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bg-brainrot · 11 days

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The Night They Slept Together

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Summary: Tav pines, and their relationship with Astarion shifts ever so slightly. (They literally do just sleep)

Tags: 2nd person POV, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Pining, light hurt and angst, Astarion is Bad at Feelings, coping with feelings, act 2, pre-confession

A/N: some light angst as Tav comes to term with their feelings but we already know where they end up, so it's okay, right? :D

Word count: ~2.1k

Your tryst with Astarion should be over by now.

It was supposed to be a one off moment of passion, a way to destress after all of the danger you’d thrown yourselves into. He’d asked so easily, you’d agreed just as readily– a quick celebratory moment after defeating that goblin camp, when your spirits and libido were running high.

The second time? Well, that was easy to write off as well. You’d just fought off an entire creche, moving through it like a pair of practiced assassins, a synchrony you haven’t felt since– well, you’re not certainly you’ve ever felt so in sync with someone. Either way, it was another easy nod to his sly, questioning look.

You’d had similar excuses for your first night in the Shadow-Cursed Lands, for the handful of midday, afternoon, midnight romps since.

It’s just a way for us to cope with the situation at hand, nothing more, nothing less, you’d told yourself.

That is, until you’d realized that it wasn’t just that. Not to you.

Oh gods, I love this insane vampire.

The night you’d realized that everything had changed.

What had begun as a distraction for you both, had turned into a poison– one slowly working its way through your system, incapacitating you piece by piece at the thought of another night falling into his arms, sinking deeper into the throes of an impossible love.

After all, what is this other than convenient? And if you continued to be a mere convenience to him, well, you doubt that this would end well for you. It’s high time that you cut off the source of this poison before it festers too far. Before it grips your vulnerable, aching heart.

That’s what you’d told yourself, but you’re finding it so much harder to cut off the source when he’s standing right in front of you, waiting for you with a smirk toying along the edge of his mouth, an eyebrow raising suggestively as his voice lowers to a sultry invitation.

You’d come by his tent to say goodnight. Maybe, ‘Good job today.’ Any excuse to see him really, but now you’re met with a challenge.

Astarion’s words don’t make it much easier either.

“Oh my dear, you look positively wound-up after today’s bouts. Care for a little… unwinding?”

His voice drips with promise, with want, with a feeling that echoes through your own traitorous core. But, like a sweet that’s overstayed its welcome, it seems too tacky, hardening into something utterly indigestible.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” you ask, eying him carefully, fighting down your own building desires.

“Why shouldn’t it be?” he asks, a raised brow lowering in uncertainty.

You hesitate, unsure how much truth you’re willing to part with. Certainly not, ‘Because I may have accidentally fallen in love with you.’ And you don’t want to shove him out of your life unceremoniously either. Just… to slow down, allow your heart time to adjust– to get over him, if need be.

After a pause that goes on for a second too long, you finally settle on, “It just seems as if we’ve already had plenty of ‘fun’, don’t you think?”

Astarion’s small smirk drops, a dark look entering his eyes as he registers your words, how they directly counter his own from your first night together. How they fall between you with the full weight of rejection. “Don’t tell me you’ve grown shy now, darling?” he says, voice a bit sharper than what you’re used to.

You’d known that trying to slow down wouldn’t be easy, but his downturned lips make you want to take back your words, dive back into the intoxicating miasma of his cold embrace. But you also know that if you don’t stand your ground now, you’re liable to fall too far too fast.

“Not shy per say,” you respond, measuring your words carefully. “Merely wondering if that’s what you want.”

Astarion seems no more placated by these words than your earlier ones. “And what makes you think I wouldn’t want this?”

Fear born of your heart, insecurity born of your nerves, damned logic born of your head– there are really so many reasons he wouldn’t want this, wouldn’t want you. But you don’t want to be too transparent, not when this adventure could all be over very soon. You say as much.

“Well, our days could be numbered.” Then your lips continue. “Perhaps there is someone else you would rather be unwinding?” The question slips out of you, an unbidden, unwelcome concern courtesy of the fear building in your chest.

“Is that what you want?” he asks, response quick, tone biting. His lips are pressed in a tight line, the muscles in his neck tense as he clenches his jaw.

Gods, you’d known your heart would lead you astray. Here you are, facing an Astarion unlike any that had made a home in your bedroll. An Astarion made of sharp edges and cutting words. Expression closed, mouth a tight line, you find his change in demeanor aggravating. You bristle at his accusation. “No, Astarion. I don’t want that. If I did, I wouldn’t be here, speaking with you. Though you’re making me regret doing that much now.”

He tilts back at your words, leaning back on the heels of his feet as if thrown off balance. “Then why did you even come over? To reject me then to–to taunt me?”

You had meant to do none of that. Really, you’d only come over out of habit, to see him, to… spend time with him. But it’s hard to say so without being entirely too forthcoming with your feelings. You wish that you could put your feelings into words, however it’s your burden to bear, not his. He has more than enough on his plate between the Absolute and Raphael’s deal.

So you shake your head at him. “I didn’t mean to reject you, Astarion. I hadn’t come here for sex at all.”

Once more, he asks the question you do not want to answer. “Then why did you even come over?”

You could lie. It’s as easy as breathing for you– it’s how you and Astarion had grown so close so quickly. You should lie, you tell yourself. But one look into his crimson, pleading eyes and the lie dies on your lips.

He looks hurt. So genuinely confused at your presence in front of him, deeply convinced that you could only be here for one thing and one thing only. And you know then that you can’t lie.

“I wanted to see you,” you say, the honest words tightening your throat on their way out, You haven’t told him how you feel, but you may as well have, with the way the words sound utterly, sinfully soft, a secret lost on the cold wind of the Shadow-Cursed night.

“You… wanted to see me?” he repeats, tone losing all of its edge, losing any of its structure at all.

You nod silently, uncertain if more words would help or hurt the situation.

To that, Astarion only blinks. His mouth opens, head tilting in that cautiously inquisitorial way, as he asks, “And then what?”

There was no ‘and then’ in your mind. Merely the need to see him, spend time with him, even after spending an entire dark, dreary day with him. But you suppose he wouldn’t understand that if you said it. So you need to come up with something concrete, a reason to be here beyond words…

“I was wondering if you wanted to share a bedroll tonight. To sleep,” you say, infusing enough confidence in your words that you can hardly note the nerves. You expect Astarion wouldn’t notice them at all.

His defenses noticeably drop, his shoulders sagging in relief, and a sigh escapes him as he shakes his head at you wryly. “Well, why didn’t you just say so, darling? I understand that not everyone has my stamina, but it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

You want to roll your eyes, defend your honor as it hangs on by a thread, but you’ve narrowly avoided disaster and you’re not proud enough to ruin that. Instead you play into the role, ignoring the dull twinge that twists through your heart. “I wasn’t sure you would be so magnanimous,” you say, giving him the slightest bow of your head. “I should have known.”

“That you should have,” he says with a breathy laugh and he sounds almost… relieved?

More than anything, you want to ask him, why? Are you relieved that my feelings have stayed silent? That this thing between us remains uncomplicated? That you don’t have to find yourself a new distraction?

But your questions stay just as buried as your feelings do.

Your damnable feelings, which seem to threaten to burst out each time his eyes linger too long, with every touch you weren’t expecting. It must be a talent, holding them in as you do now.

They stay hidden as he extends a hand to you, inviting you into his tent with a warm smile and a, “Shall we?”

You keep them dormant as you follow, tucking your head into the now-familiar red structure, narrowly avoiding the mess he’s left inside.

They almost slip to the surface as he pulls you down onto his lap, and a heat rises between you as natural as steam from a hot spring.

It’s an invitation, of course. One last effort from Astarion for something more tonight, for you to be won over by his beauty and charm. But there’s nothing to be won over because you are already his.

You wish he could tell, from your drunken declarations, from the way you’ve made a second home in his arms. Maybe he can tell, but refuses to acknowledge it– you could hardly blame him if that were to be the case. But you also can’t blame yourself for barely holding back.

Even now, seated in his lap, staring into his mesmerizing red eyes, you’re not certain you could trust a single word that comes out of your lips. So you throw every word you’ve ever known, could ever know, to the wayside. And simply kiss him.

You press your lips to his slowly, contact feather-light as you balance on his thighs. Bracing yourself with a hand on his chest, you lean in, locking your lips together fully.

They move together easily, dance partners on a familiar dance floor, to a practiced tune, but when you think of all of the things you wish you could say, an urgency rises in you– a deep-seated need to tell him how you feel, even if only through this.

So you kiss him harder, your hands holding him all the tighter. You kiss him with every word unspoken, every intangible feeling rising in your chest, every single ounce of you that he’s already won, if only he were willing to claim it.

Astarion moves to deepen the kiss, placing a hand on the back of your head, the other on the small of your back, not understanding where your desperation comes from. Misunderstanding your intent altogether.

Of course, what was I thinking? you wonder to yourself as you pull away, panting lightly. That some magical kiss could make this man realize my feelings, could make him love me back?

But you’re not in some copper novel. This man harbors no hidden feelings for you. Only a deep need to lose himself, and you happen to be the person he’s chosen to do that with.

So, despite the confusion in his face, you crawl off of his lap. Despite the way his hand trails along your side as you lay down, you don’t get back up. You merely say, “It’s getting late, we should get some rest.”

Astarion murmurs his agreement, but you can hear the reluctance in his tone, see the bewildered expression on his face as he lies down, all of his clothing still covering his body.

You could laugh at the absurdity of it all, how unnerved he is, how deeply your chest aches– gods, this didn’t go well at all. But you don’t laugh. Only a sigh escapes you as you wrap your arms around him, as you press your body to his with all of the affection you cannot contain.

His arms stumble, they falter, but they find their way around you as well. An awkward embrace from a man who has no clue how he’s arrived at this point.

It’s difficult at a moment like this to remember that you shouldn’t love this man. That there are a dozen reasons to tamp down your feelings, a dozen more to run away. This was never supposed to be more than a single night of fun.

But, face tucked into the crook of his neck, hands clutching his loose shirt, nose filled with his carefully curated scent– you can almost pretend that this is real.

#astarion #astarion x tav #fanfic #astarion fic #astarion x reader #rogue + rogue #astarion fanfiction #astarion fanfic #astarion x gn reader #astarion x gn!tav #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion is bad at feelings #spawn astarion #hurt comfort #lightly angsty #mainly pining

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roronoaswifey · 1 year

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𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑!𝐀𝐂𝐄…

pairing. portgas d. ace x f!reader

warnings/tags. explicit content, alcohol consumption, substance consumption, mentions of past cocaine consumption, sex under the influence, mentions of groupies, dubious snap of reader’s facial, ace has tattoos and a tongue piercing, and reader has nipple and belly piercings.

kazu’s note. i’ve been on guitartok for months now. sorry but i’m definitely projecting here 👁️‍🗨️

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑!𝐀𝐂𝐄…

who’s been trying for months to get you to come to at least one of his gigs. he sees you around quite often since you’re good friends with his younger brother, and figures it’s a good enough excuse to get you to see him in his element. but whenever he tries to corner you in the kitchen and shoot you an invitation, you always turn him down with a gentle shove as you make your way around him, claiming rock music simply isn’t your style.

who’s determined to make rock music your style. on days where he isn’t seen performing in front of crowds, he’s back home with his brothers, where he knows you’ll eventually be. with his electric guitar set in place and firm in his grasp, his fingers drum at the strings as the chords flow into a riffing melody. he works and practices really hard into his music, so the thin layer of sweat coating his inked chiseled body is nothing unexpected. though, what does seem to catch him a little off guard is seeing your figure leaning back against his bedroom door, closing the wooden piece behind you, arms crossed over your chest with your cup of coffee resting at your lips. your eyes tell a tale; you’re interested, and he’s all in for it.

who after a series of brutal and long months, finally manages to get you to see him perform. he’s more pumped than usually, his band mates notice, as he pregames with lots of tequila shots. he ignores the looks he gets from his stylist, focusing on the way he’s going to need his wavy hair tied back into a bun if he’s going to end this night with what he’s wanted with you for the longest. he can only smirk, the bitter taste of booze lingering on his tastebuds, setting his body ablaze in major contrast to the cool feel of the ball of steel pierced through his tongue.

who gives it his all the second he shows up on that stage. the adrenaline running mixed with the shots he took earlier has him feeling on edge, calloused fingers expertly drumming at chords as he sings through the mic, his voice roaring into the stadium. through the immense crowd, he spots you in the middle of his younger brother and friends. dressed in a skimpy black outfit, a smirk is pulled onto your lips as you bob your head to the rhythm. it’s a tune you’ve heard him practice before, so surely it stuck to you, but seeing you in person right before him made his blood run a mile a second, and god he wanted to take you backstage and make a mess out of you.

though the performance is over and he’s greeting fans and groupies, he’s now got his wife beater on with some grey sweats. he’s usually thrilled to meet his supporters, but his mind is entirely consummated by you. he wants you wrapping your arms around his neck, snuggling your soft breast into his chest, arms wrapped around his waist as you giggle and congratulate him on his show. he could care less about the groupies that always come to see him, and he’s far less interested in getting their pussies in favour of yours. he even decides to refuse the mini plastic cocaine bag he’s usually quick to snatch, since he had absolutely no business entertaining them, when he only wanted you.

rolling up papers into blunts after his gigs, slightly drained from hours of performing despite the buzz mowing at his brain. he’s finally backstage, bringing the blunt up to his mouth to lick at the paper when you show up amongst your friends, congratulating him for his outstanding performance. he knows this all, though he still thanks their support, but most of all he wants to hear it from you, wants to know what you have to say since this was your very first experience after all.

watches as you walk up to him, breast spilling in your tight top, leaning forward to snatch the rolled up spliff and placing it between your lips. you grab a lighter from your cleavage, spark it up and blow the smoke in his stunned face. “not bad.” you chuckle with low lidded eyes, before placing the blunt back into his parted mouth. your friends are long distracted, busy bothering his other bandmates, but ace couldn’t be bothered enough to care about them. not when he feels the sudden urge to pull you onto his lap, to feel the heat of the warmth of your legs straddling over him, and grab a strong hold onto your ass beneath your taunting miniskirt. the sloppy kiss he receives in consequence to his actions aren’t unexpected.

who feels his pants tightening painfully hard at the sounds you make when his jewelled fingers come to wrap around your throat, drool pooling at the corner of your mouth from the ball of steel in his tongue clashing with the roof of your mouth. he can taste the casamigos in the warm cavern, figured he shouldn’t be too surprised since he himself is quite buzzed, but wishes everyone would fuck the hell off somewhere and let him get what he’s wanted forever.

who puts you in every fucking position. from your sweaty bodies grinding into one another on the couch, to having you pressed up against the wall and pounding into your tight cunt, to have you bent over his vanity and watching from the reflection of the mirror as he pounds into you, teeth nipping at your neck. you fuck like wild animals, the bottle of tequila uncapped by his fangs and poured into your open mouth as you moan at the alcoholic taste. once he’s assured you’ve got a good fill, he’ll poor the rest of the contents on your sinful ass, watching the liquid lubricate your ass cheeks, the recoil from the forced point of contact between both your bodies only amplifying as tequila splashed between you both. the whine you let out when a rough hand comes to slap your slippery ass cheeks is incomparable to any tune he’s ever heard.

who has you pushed up against the wall, legs wrapped around his neck and rested onto his shoulders, as he eats you out like his life depended on it. you tasted so fucking good, more intoxicating than any booze he’s had in his life, and the way your acrylics run deep into his scalp tugging so harshly onto his hair as you moan and whine for more, messing up his bun and watching as the locks fall out of place. his tongue drags up and down your lips, mouth salivating as his spit drools past his lips and past your pussy onto the floor, sloppily getting his worth of fill, grinding his erection into the wall as he awaits on his sweet reward that’s bound to splurt on his face if he nibbles at your clit— “just like that.” spraying him in the face with your essence.

who pulls out his phone with a deep groan and snaps a picture with the flash on of your cum covered face, sat on your knees with his dick tapped against your pink tongue, the wet muscle wrapped all over his tip as you milk him of his worth. the pearly white droplets may have ruined your makeup entirely, but ace isn’t sure he’s seen a prettier sight than this. you, allowing him to finish his load onto your skin, in which he can’t help but stretch an arm and smear his nut on your face with his thumb, to which you so gracefully slip in the digit in your mouth and moan, which definitely hardens his dick back into place.

who’s seated on the couch, blunt pressed at his lips as he watches you bounce up and down his cock, riding and milking him for what he’s worth. he’s already on edge, can barely stand the sight of your pierced nipples bouncing in sync at your hips’ movements, so he distracts himself by bringing his mout around a bud and his large hand cups the other mound. he moans against the jewel, his own tongue piercing clashing against the pretty heart shaped diamond and his silver ring brushing against your other hardened nipple. the blunt now in your mouth, you grind back and forth as you let the ecstasy ripple through your body, smoke filling in your lungs and clouding your mind, your clit bumping against his pelvis when you lean down at a specific angle.

definitely places a drumstick into your mouth, to gag you up as he fucks into you. he doesn’t want to muffle your beautiful sounds, he honestly doesn’t care if the whole audience hears the way you crumble on his dick. he just can’t help the way he feels waves of arousal ripple through his limbs all liquidy hot, when he seems the dazed look in your eyes, jerking up from each intense snap of his hips rutting into you. your knees touch your ears, your anklet chiming right at his own ear, as he presses a kiss into your ankle. in consequence, he decides with a jewelled hand wrapped around your neck, a new angle in his rough thrusts, that he’s going to record your fucking moans one day and put it as adlibs in a track.

who pulls out and watches as his cum trickles down your fucked out pussy, staining his couch white of evidence. with two fingers, he grabs the sticky substance and shoves it back into you, eyes nearly rolling back at the broken cry you let out, body all sensitive from back to back orgasms. still, he has a mind of his own and very selfish desires, and simply cannot let you go after tonight. you’ve given him a teasing taste, and he knows he’ll be back for more.

who reaches to grab your phone and unlocks it with your face id, before punching his own number in it and ringing himself. he needs you to come back after this, he’s not sure how he’s managed to survive without you here with him this entire time, but it’s never too late to try. he wants you seated in vip, supporting him and filming him up on stage as he finally has the heart to sing the songs he’s dedicated for you, and to be able to carry you into his backstage room and fuck you yet again endlessly. yeah, sounds like a dream but as for now, he’s good with resting his head onto your chest and listening to your steady heartbeat as it lulls you both into sleep.

bonus point++ definitely gives you an personally signed autograph of his name in black permanent sharpie right above your pussy and below your pierced navel, marking your gaping cunt as his forever and always.

ignore how i barely talk abt him being a rockstar and i mainly just wanted to write smut for ace <3

#roronoaswifey.exe #kazuha’s works 📂#‘thinking bout’ series #one piece #one piece smut #portgas d ace #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace smut #x reader

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webslinger-holland · 2 years

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The Responsible One | Eddie Munson

Summary: Out of the Hellfire club, the reader is the most responsible one and basically the mother of the group. But Eddie can’t bring himself to confess his feelings.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Warning: none

Type: Oneshot

It has all started the first week of senior year. Now this was Eddie’s third time repeating his senior year, but he claimed this time was going to be different. And it was for one reason.

With each school year, Eddie picked out some little ‘lost sheep’ in the crowd to become part of his Hellfire Club. Just last semester, Eddie had found the most unlikely person to join their group. Her name was Y/n L/n.

In January, Eddie saw her coming to sit at the far end of their table. She silently sat by herself, lowering her tray of gross cafeteria food on the table. Then Y/n proceeded to pull out a D&D Monsters Manual book.

This caused Eddie to spit out the milk he was drinking from his little carton. The other members of the group turned to look at him with a quizzical look in their eyes. He’d never seen a girl that was interested in the game. He tipped his head to motion to the strange girl and all of their eyes followed his gaze.

By the end of the week, Eddie had worked up the courage to approach her and ask her if she wanted to join their club. She happily agreed to.

When Eddie received the news that he wouldn’t be graduating and he’d have to repeat his senior year once again, he wasn’t necessarily upset like all the other times.

This meant that he’d get to spend another year building his Hellfire Club. It also meant he’d get to spend more time with her.

At the start of the new year, the Hellfire Club was short on three people since three of their members had graduated in the spring. It didn’t take long for them to recruit three kids named Mike, Dustin, and Lucas. They were die hard fans of the game and they had been playing since they were little.

They proved their worth on multiple occasions, helping defeat various monsters. On Fridays, the club would wear their Hellfire shirts since they planned to play after school. This week was no different.

At lunch, Eddie lifted his gaze to stare at Y/n while he mindlessly played with his mashed potatoes. She was situated between Mike and Dustin.

The two boys had one of their first midterms coming up next week. Neither of them had studied. So Y/n was helping them out by walking them through some of the problems.

“Then the exponent goes-,” Y/n voice trailed off.

“Right there,” Dustin exclaimed as if the light had finally gone off in his head and it all made sense to him.

“Exactly!” Y/n said with a broad smile on her face. She scribbled on the piece of paper to write down the answer to the equation.

Eddie kept his gaze on his food, but the corners of his lips cracked into a small smile. He stole a quick glance towards her.

“Algebra is so much easier when you explain it. You’re even better than Mrs Miller,” Mike stated. He claimed he never learned anything from his teacher.

“Well, I’ve tutored a lot of kids. I’ve had practice,” Y/n explained.

“Speaking of tutoring,” Y/n peered around the boys to look towards the head of the table. “Do you need any help studying for Mrs O’Donnells midterm?” Y/n wondered.

While Y/n knew that Eddie’s grades weren’t the best in school and that he had failed Mrs O’Donnell’s class twice, Y/n couldn’t help but wonder if he needed or wanted any help.

“N-No thanks,” Eddie stumbled over his words. He quickly diverted his gaze by staring down at his food.

“Alright. If you change your mind, just let me know,” Y/n said as she rose to her feet. “I-I should get going. Got another class here soon,” she excused herself.

“See you after school,” Dustin called after her.

Once she was out of their line of sight, everyone turned their heads to look at the dungeon master himself. He raised his own head and looked at all of them. He shrugged his shoulders in defeat.

“What?” Eddie wondered.

“You never take up her offer to tutor you,” Dustin noticed.

“Don’t need to,” Eddie claimed. “I am crawling my way towards a D- in Mrs O’Donnells class.”

“And one bad score on your midterm could drop you even further back,” Lucas stated.

“Listen man,” Eddie began. “I appreciate the effort, but believe me, if Y/n tutored me…I wouldn’t learn anything.”

“What makes you say that?” Dustin perked up.

“It’s because he wouldn’t be focusing on the homework if you know what I mean,” Garett smirked and quirked his eyebrow.

“Shut up!” Eddie yelled.

“You like her?!” Dustin exclaimed in a quiet whisper. “Why didn’t you just say so?”

“How long have you had a crush on her?” Mike questioned.

“Ever since he saw her last semester reading a monsters manual,” Jeff interjected.

“Took him a week to finally talk to her,” Garett added since he had also been there last year to witness it.

“And he’s been gone every since,” Jeff added.

“Will you two just shut up?” Eddie demanded. He slammed his hands down on the table which caused all of them to jump and drop the subject.

There were a couple moments of awkward silence at the table. No one even dared speak up unless they wanted their head to get bitten off.

As if on cue, the lunch bell rang to signal the end of the period. Everyone at the table began to collect their things, throwing their trash onto their trays. One by one, they stood up to go their separate ways.

Finally, Eddie and Dustin were the last two at the table. They had a sort of bond. And Eddie couldn’t deny that he was closer to Dustin than the other two. There was just something about him that was loveable. It was almost like he was his younger brother.

“Hey. Listen,” Dustin said cautiously. “I know you probably don’t want to talk to Y/n because you don’t want to ruin the friendship you guys have.”

When Eddie didn’t say anything, Dustin took that as a cue to continue. He spoke softly so nobody could hear him.

“I don’t know much about girls but I’ve seen the way she looks at you. She really likes you,” Dustin tried.

“No,” Eddie shook his head in denial. “No, she’s like that to everyone. She’s just a kind hearted person. I’m no different than everyone else,” Eddie said.

“Well, if you say so.” Dustin sighed. He took his tray and began to walk away.

After Hellfire, Eddie always offered to drive the younger boys home since it was usually late at night. He’d also take Y/n home since she lived only ten minutes away from him.

The three boys clambered into the back of his van, obsessing over their last campaign session. They had just barely survived, but it was such an epic win. They couldn’t help talk about it.

Meanwhile, Eddie climbed into the driver’s seat and Y/n was seated in the passenger’s seat. He began to drive away.

He really wasn’t listening to the boys in the backseat, opting to steal temporary glances towards the person beside him. When Y/n would turn her head to look at him, Eddie would quickly look back towards the road. She smiled to herself.

Slowly, Eddie pulled up to Lucas’s house. He put the van in park and waited until he climbed out of the vehicle. All of the sudden, Y/n rolled down to window to call out to him.

“Don’t forget to study for your midterm,” Y/n called.

“Yes mom,” Lucas rolled his eyes while walking backwards. He sent her a small smile and a wave.

The van started up again. They began driving further down the street, taking a couple turns until they came to the next house.

At the Wheeler home, Mrs Wheeler was looking out the living room window. She had heard the van pulling up. She went to open the door and welcomed her teenage son home. She sent a small wave to the van as if to say thank you for bringing him home safely.

“What about that Eddie Munson and Y/n L/n?” Mrs Wheeler asked her son after she closed the front door.

“What about them?” Mike asked. He headed towards the kitchen and grabbed a cookie from the cookie jar.

“They’d make a good couple,” Mrs Wheeler confessed. She looked out the window to watch them drive away.

“They’re kinda polar opposites,” Mike said as if saying he knew them better than anyone. “Eddie is rebellious and Y/n is the responsible one of the group.”

“Opposites attract,” Mrs Wheeler claimed with a small smile. “You never know,” Mrs Wheeler insisted.

“Whatever,” Mike rolled his eyes. “Goodnight mom.”

By the time the van drove up to Dustin’s home, Dustin was fast asleep in the backseat. The two older kids turned their heads to look over their shoulder, smiling at the sight of Dustin sleeping with his mouth wide open.

“Should I scare him awake?” Eddie whispered.

“No! That would be mean,” Y/n stated. She unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the passenger door. She climbed out of the vehicle, prying open the door of the backseat.

Hesitantly, Y/n laid her hand on the young boy’s shoulder to waken him gently. He stirred in his sleep, tossing his head from side to side. He opened his eyes slowly.

“Hey Dustin,” Y/N whispered so softly. “You’re home.”

Lazily, Dustin unbuckled his own seatbelt and climbed out of the vehicle. She went to grab his jacket, throwing it over his shoulders. She then proceeded to zip him up like a mother would do for her own child.

She took his backpack out of the van. She handed it to him. She threw his cap on his head before gently pushing him towards his house. He shuffled up the driveway lazily and tiredly.

Afterwards, Y/n climbed back into the van. She buckled her seatbelt quickly. When she turned her head, she found Eddie looking directly at her with a small smile on his face.

“What?” Y/n smiled.

“Nothing,” Eddie shrugged. “You’re like the mom of the group.”

“Guilty,” Y/n laughed.

In that moment, Eddie started the van once again and drove away. The two of them sat in the most comfortable silence. The only thing that could be heard was the sound of wind coming through the cracked window.

When Eddie looked at Y/n, he saw her hair blowing in the wind as she looked out the window. Her facial features seemed to glow in the light of the moon. She looked heavenly.

Much to Eddie’s dismay, he made the turn to her house. He pulled into her driveway and turned the keys of his van. The two of them sat there in silence for a couple minutes.

Suddenly, Eddie turned his head to look at the young girl sitting beside him. He clambered out of his own car, which caused his car to rock back and forth. He hurriedly ran around the backside of his car like the insane kid he was.

He went to open her door for her. He offered his hand to her like a gentleman. She smiled at his actions, gladly taking his hand as he escorted her out of the van. He closed the door behind her.

The two of them walked towards her front door. As she began to unlock the front door, he leaned against the door frame. He watched her movements so carefully. He mentally took note of how her hands shook slightly which caused him to furrow his eyebrows in confusion.

“Well, this is me.” Y/n said nervously. She motioned to the door.

“Right,” Eddie nodded. He shoved his hands into the depths of his pockets, rocking back and forth on the heels of his feet.

She said a small goodbye before opening the door of her house. She walked into her house, closing the door in a slow motion.

“Wait! Y/n!” Eddie called.

To stop the door from closing, Eddie took a step forward and slammed the flat of his hand against the solid door. He held it open.

“W-would you still be willing to tutor me? I don’t want to fail my class again. I could really use the help…just didn’t know how to ask for it,” Eddie confessed.

“Of course I’ll help you,” Y/n said with a small smile on her face.

“Say tomorrow? Around 3pm?” Eddie suggested.

“Alright,” Y/n agreed with a curt nod. “I’ll see you then.”

Once again, Y/n began to close the door behind her. But Eddie had to ask her one more question. He put his hand out again to stop the door from closing.

“A-And maybe…i-if you want to,” Eddie said slowly. “I could take you out to dinner afterwards,” Eddie offered.

“Eddie Munson,” Y/n said slowly. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

“Would that be such a bad thing if I was?” Eddie challenged.

“No. It wouldn’t be.” Y/n said with a small shake of the head.

“Great,” Eddie said. “Then it’s a date.”

In response, Eddie could feel the corners of his lips tugging into a broad smile. He stuffed his hands back into his leather jacket pockets.

Out of nowhere, Eddie awkwardly stepped forward and leaned down to her eye height. He pecked his lips against her in the most innocent manner. It was so quick that either of them could really process that it just happened. It only lasted a second.

When Eddie had pulled away, he quickly dropped his gaze to stare down at his feet. He kicked some of the gravel with the heel of his foot. He was trying to bud the evident blush creeping up his face and coloring his cheeks.

Unbeknownst to him, Y/n was also blushing profusely at his action. She popped her lips into her mouth to hide the growing smile from forming in her face. She balanced her height from one leg to the other.

“Alright,” Eddie announced a little louder than normal. He took a step backwards so she could finally close the door. “I‘ll see you tomorrow,” Eddie said.

“For our date,” Y/n confirmed. She watched him take a couple more steps backwards, heading towards his van.

“Yes! For our date,” Eddie repeated. “I’ll see you there.”

“Bye Eddie,” Y/n said. She finally closed the door behind her.

“Goodbye Y/n,” Eddie said to nothing in particular.

As if he didn’t believe what just happened, Eddie spun around on the heels of his feet. He pondered his thoughts carefully, reliving everything that just happened.

In disbelief, Eddie weaves his fingers through his long locks of hair. He smiled to himself, scoffing at the mere idea that he had a date. He hurried to the driver’s side of his car.

Once inside, Eddie closed the door behind him. He gripped the steering wheel tightly. Then Eddie jumped enthusiastically in his seat. He cheered to himself in success. It had taken him long enough to work up his courage. Now he’s be reaping the benefits. And he had a date tomorrow night.

#eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson

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deansapplepie · 4 months

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A piece of meat (drabble)

Warnings: suggestive, mentions of sexual things, mentions of blowjobs, mentions of D’s Dick. Minors do not interact, 18+.

A/N: Initially I had thought of it as an idea dor Till THE DEAD do us part, but then I thought “why not make it into a drabble?”, I’m trying to make myself used to write small things like that. I’m not entirely satisfied with what I wrote, but here it is.

It had been so difficult to have some time alone with your archer in the last days that you were practically burning to touch him and be touched. Usually, your alone time was when the day was over and you’d retreat to your shared cell, but there had been so much work to do that at this precious time both of you were exhausted and all you could manage to do was to cuddle to sleep and share a quick kiss, that is when you didn’t sleep once your heads hit the pillow.

That’s why when you saw yourself alone with him, and deep in the woods, you surprised him by throwing him against a tree and crashing your lips on his. At first you startled him, but soon he welcomed the kiss… it is until your hands descended to the waistband of his pants and your hands started to battle with his belt.

“Wha’ are ya doing?” He broke the kiss, one hand tangled in your hair and the other on your lower back.

“Hopefully, you.” You answered and turned your attention once again to the clothing keeping him away from you.

“What am I to ya, woman? A piece of meat?” He asked you a laugh caught in his throat and that straight face that you could never tell if he was serious or joking.

“Don’t you wanna me to suck your dick, big boy?” You asked him the most innocent face you could manage to make in your face. “I can stop if you don’t…”

“I never said that!” He was fast to reply. “Do your job and I may reward you.” He squeezed your cheeks with one hand making your lips shape into a pout, before he used the same hand to put a strand of hair behind your ear and caress your face as if you hadn’t just promised him something so sinful.

“Yes, sir.” You said before getting on your knees. “Now let me do my job, and do yours that is keep watch.”

You knew in a few seconds he wouldn’t be able to watch for anything, so you were relying on your luck and thinking that if you died having a taste of him, you’d for sure do it happily.

Wanna be added to my tag list? Let me know. (Please tell me if you want to be tagged on everything or just specific series)

Everything taglist: @lilyevanstan1325

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #twd #twd daryl #daryl x reader #daryl x y/n #daryl fanfiction #daryl imagines #the walking dead daryl dixon #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl x you #deansapplepie

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skzstannie · 4 months

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"I will wait for you"

SKZ-> Felix x fem!reader

genre: fluff, hurt/comfort, almostttt s2l wc: ~2,500 cw: a little bit of blood (reader gets hurt), mentions of panic and anxiety, mentions of toxic relationship, mostly just Felix being s’cute tho

summary: a day in the life with Felix as you recover from your previous abusive relationship

A/N: Hiii! Here is the awaited part 2 for “I’ll take care of you”. I hope you all enjoy! All feedback and likes/reblogs are much appreciated!

Happy scrolling! | Masterlist

"Felix, I really don't need all this stuff," you sigh, watching him drag all the things he bought you into your room.

"That's ok, I want you to have it. You deserve it," he replies, his voice strained as he pushes your dresser into place.

As nonchalantly as his words come across, you've decided to permanently engrain them in your head.

Felix has been showering you with words of affirmation for the last few days, and that's the one he used most often.

"You deserve to have the door opened for you."

"You deserve to be taken out for lunch"

"You deserve to be treated like a princess, so please let me."

What may seem like the simplest things to anyone else meant so much to you. Your ex was your first boyfriend, so you've never experienced the love Felix has been showing you. As foreign as it all seems, you urge yourself to get used to it. You want to believe what he says.

You want to trust Felix.

After your breakdown a few nights ago, Felix convinced you to break up with your boyfriend. You sent him a short text, telling him it's over and to not expect to see you again. His texts came in quickly after, sending you countless threats. You contacted the police shortly, and they told you they'd handle it.

The next day, the police called you and informed you your ex had been given a warning and told not to bother you again. They reassured you that they do not take this type of situation lightly and to trust them. The cop told you if your ex ever gave you any trouble, give them a call and they'll take care of it.

You knew you could've pressed charges; you had evidence of the years of abuse he put you through. However, you didn't want to deal with all the extra work that would go with that. You knew your ex deserved to be charged. He'd put you through hell for so long, no one should get away with that.

But, you were also yearning for some peace of mind. You wanted to forget about him, to move on. He didn't deserve the right to take up any space in your mind. You just wanted to live your life peacefully, out of the grasp of your abuser.

Felix has practically been glued to your side ever since that night, only leaving to go to work during the day. He was quick to invite you to stay in his apartment, giving you the spare bedroom.

You explained to Felix that you had absolutely no interest in going back to your old apartment to get your things, and in response to that, he bought you everything new. New clothes, new sheets, new electronics. It was really all too much, but he wouldn't take no for an answer.

"You should start hanging up those clothes in your closet; they'll wrinkle if they stay in those bags much longer." He wipes his forehead, working up a sweat while helping you put your room together. You look to your bed, fully decked out in the nicest set of sheets you've ever seen with the fluffiest pillows resting against the headboard. The clothes are piled high on top of it, bag after bag spilling out with the varying pieces of fabric.

At the mall with Felix, he tried to drag you into all the expensive stores, telling you he only wanted you to have the nicest things, but you had to put your foot down sometime. So, with a pout adorning his face, he followed behind you through your favorite stores, stores where the least expensive thing didn't cost $150. You picked up the clothes you thought would look good on you, trying them on in the dressing room, fully expecting to be paying for your own stuff. After all Felix had already done for you, you'd never expect him to pay for your clothes.

Being the gentleman he is, though, he was able to whip his credit card out long before you were able to find yours in your purse.

You vividly remember the shy look he gave you as he'd handed his card to the cashier, batting his eyelashes at you in a silent plea of forgiveness.

"There are hangers in there already, so don't worry about that. If you need more, I have more in my room," he plops down beside the bags on your bed, peeking inside them.

"Thank you again, Felix, for all of this," you tell him, your eyes soft as you watch him get comfortable on your bed.

"You're very welcome."

~ ~ ~

You've finally finished organizing your closet, and it's honestly perfect. Color coded shirts line the rack, hung with nice white hangers, and your pants and shorts are folded in your beautiful dresser. You let out a sigh of relief and turn to view the rest of your bedroom, your eyes scan the room, and your heart thrums with satisfaction.

Everything is beautiful, from your sheer curtains covering your window to the gorgeous oak desk, your computer sitting atop it. Your gaze shifts to the sleeping boy on your bed and your features soften with adoration. Not wanting to wake him up, you crawl in beside him. He's laying crooked across your comforter, but you wiggle your way onto the corner of your bed under the covers.

You're amazed at how drastically your life has changed in just a few days. Only a week ago you feared for your safety every time you walked through your door, leaving you laying with wide eyes most nights.

Now, you've never felt safer as your head hits the pillow and you drift off to sleep.

~ ~ ~

You abruptly sit up in bed, your hand coming up to clutch at your chest. Your breaths come out in short huffs, your quick pulse matching your ragged breathing. Felix, having moved sometime during the night to get under the covers, is already sitting up beside you. His reaction is immediate, his hands coming up to softly grip your shoulders.

Images of your ex run rampant in your mind, clouding the safety you felt just hours before. Your eyes dart to the closed door of your bedroom, scared he'll burst through.

"Hey, it's okay. Everything's locked; no one can get in here," he assures you, seemingly reading your mind. "Are you okay?" he asks, his eyes frantically searching your panicked ones.

"Yea, I'm fine," you're voice is hoarse, the remnants of sleep slipping through your words. "Just a nightmare."

"Must've been some nightmare, then. You were screaming before you woke up. Scared me half to death," he tells you. Becoming more aware of yourself, you feel how your body is damp with sweat, your hair matted at the back of your head. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"It was just my ex. I don't-" you become choked up at the thought of it, "I don't really want to talk about it."

You hold eye contact with him, his thumbs running along the side of your arms. He has a look of understanding on his face, and, in this moment, you are so glad he stole your coffee that fateful day.

He's saved you. Whether he'll take the credit or not, without Felix you'd still be in the same toxic relationship. Hell, you had already given up, just accepting the fact you'd spend the rest of your life with a monster.

That man had starved you of loving affection for years, so for you to end up in the presence of Felix was a blessing.

"Can you just hold me?" your voice is weak, trembling a bit as you try to shake the nightmarish thoughts from your head.

There's no hesitation as Felix pulls you into his warm embrace, one hand coming up to grip the back of your head while the other rubs affectionately up and down your back. "Of course I can."

Eventually the two of you lay back down with you still residing in the comfort of his arms. You lay in silence for a while, but when you realize sleep isn't going to come easy, you whisper to Felix, "Are you awake?"

He hums back to you, squeezing you a bit tighter for a moment. "Yea," his voice is deep as it rumbles through his chest.

"I can't sleep." Your fingers reach up to play with the bottom of his shirt, toying with a string that's come loose along the side.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. Do you want to get up?"

You look to the clock you have on your bedside table, and it reads 6:30 A.M.

You think for a moment before deciding that, in your disheveled state, 6:30 is an appropriate time for you to get up. "Sure," you answer, pulling away from him and moving the covers off your body. "I was planning on making you breakfast before you woke up, but since you're already up, wanna make it together?"

Luckily enough for both of you, neither of you have work today as it's Saturday.

"I'd love to."

He sits up as well, stretching his arms up high while letting out a groan. Your eyes travel down to his body, stopping on his toned stomach that peaks out from the bottom of his shirt.

Of course you've always known Felix was attractive, but now that you're officially single, Felix has been looking especially good lately. However, you do have some respect for yourself, and you know you need time to heal before jumping back into another relationship.

But that doesn't mean you can't find him hot as hell.

You blink out of your trance and blush when Felix's eyes are already settled on you. "Breakfast?" he smirks, his eyes crinkling.

"Breakfast."

~ ~ ~

"Felix, that's way too much butter," you laugh, watching him throw slice after slice of softened butter into your hot pan. "We're not trying to deep fry them."

"My members and I made them like this one time, and they were good," he pouts.

You gently take the butter out of his hands, putting it down beside the stove. "I think they'll taste even better this way."

You guys continue on, and the pancakes come out tasty, topped with sweet syrup and some butter. As you're bringing yours and Felix's empty plates to the counter, your hip accidentally bumps into the sharp edge of the counter, and you cry out in pain. The dishes slip from your grasp and crash to the floor, shattering the ceramic into tiny pieces.

Tears well in your eyes immediately, your heartbeat picking up in intensity. You fall into a state of panic, anxiety sweeping your consciousness.

Your movements are robotic as you bend down, picking up the shards with your bare hands. You’re careless, and the sharp slivers cut through your palm as you hold them.

Felix doesn't let this go on long, immediately crouching beside you. He unwraps your tightly closed fist, and he gasps at the blood covering your delicate hand.

"Babe, you've cut your hand," he sighs, his sad eyes roaming your blank face.

You've tuned him out though, your anxiety still holding the reigns. You involuntarily flinch when he brings his hand up towards your face. His hand stops midair, freezing just near you cheek.

He's frozen still as he watches you with desperate eyes. Your blank stare is locked on the ground beside you, the broken pieces still littering the ground there. "You're ok, I'm not going to hurt you."

His soft words bring you out of your daze, and when you finally look to his him, you finally allow the tears to fall.

Once he sees that you're aware of him and who he is, he allows himself to reach out to you again, wiping your falling tears. He lightly grasps your elbow, pulling your crouched form into his.

Your emotions run wild as he holds you.

How could you think that Felix would hurt you?

"I will never hurt you," his voice cracks, and you feel how your shoulder dampens from his tears.

"I know Felix, I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for. Healing will take time, and I want to be there with you through it all, the good and the bad. Okay?"

You sniffle, nodding your head yes.

"Okay, good. Let's get you cleaned up." He helps you up, grabbing your hand and entwining your fingers together. He leads you to the bathroom, where he pulls out a little first aid kit from below the sink.

Looking back to you, he pats the toilet seat, silently asking if you'll sit.

You walk the few steps from the doorway to the toilet seat, and plop yourself down.

He brings your hand up towards the sink, a bottle of alcohol in his other hand.

"This will probably sting a bit, but only for a second."

He slowly pours the liquid onto your palm, and it takes everything in you not to pull away. Your face grimaces as the stinging continues, the alcohol running of the ends of your fingers.

The nice white porcelain of the sink is stained red now as your blood swirls down the drain. Felix lets the water run, swishing it up onto the sides of the sink to get rid of the residue.

He grabs the towel hanging behind him, bringing it to your palm to get rid of the excess moisture. His touch is so gentle, his hands treating you like glass.

He opens the first aid kit again, grabbing some wrap and a few bandages. "I'm gonna put these on you and then put this wrap around your hand. I think the bandages will just fall off if I don't wrap them," he explains, waiting for you to give the 'okay' for him to continue.

You hum at him, agreeing, and he gets right to work.

Just a few minutes later, your hand feels as if it's been expertly bandaged by some healthcare professional, and your heart sores with adoration as you admire the man in front of you.

"How lucky I am to have met you," you tell him, a soft smile adorning your lips.

"Not as lucky as I am," he smiles back, pulling you up from your seat to give you a comforting hug.

Your hands land on his chest, creating a slight gap between the two of you.

Your eyes drift down to his lips, his tongue darting out to wet them.

"I really wanna kiss you right now..."

"But..?" his hands grip your waist, holding you tightly.

"But, I feel like it wouldn't be fair for you or me. I need time. I need time to really find myself again," your eyes are filled with sorrow as they make their way up Felix's face. You take note of the way his cheeks have turned rosy, his freckled face tinted with the cutest shade of pink.

"I respect you, wholeheartedly, and if that's what you want, I will wait for you."

"You will?" years of emotional abuse have affected your ability to trust, but you remind yourself that this is Felix you're talking to. He's never given you a reason not to trust him.

"I will. Forever and ever if I have to."

#stray kids #skz #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz oneshots #stray kids imagines #stray kids oneshot #skz imagines #lee felix #stray kids felix #felix x reader #part 2/2 #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #skz fluff #skz angst #strangers to lovers #skz felix #felix

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dinosaurcharcuterie · 3 months

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10 days ago, I decided I would get started on that linen summer dress with the swooshy skirt I've had all the materials for since last summer. So, naturally, 9 days ago, I did unspeakable things in a text editor software to reformat this free Apex Legends Nessie pattern by Jackalodreams on Deviantadt so most pieces fit on less pages. Then I printed it at 200%, taped the pieces together and... Things got a bit out of hand.

Long story short, I've got a new purse, and it made at least three separate adults who saw it smile squeal in public.

Construction notes after the break!

I think it only took me an evening or two to make, the main thing was getting all the materials. Zipper is from a duvet, all other hardware, eyes included, are 3D printed with PLA. (Pro tip: don't size up safety eye STL files unless you have a way to size up your fabric thickness accordingly.) Patches are mostly from stash, as is the lining (just some random jersey) and belly fabric (basic double gauze). Body is a fuzzy blanket I found on clearance. Tag is a piece of cotton calico with some quick and dirty hand embroidery on it.

Getting the tag, zipper and D-ring caught in the butt seam made me fear for my little Brother sewing machine, so maybe don't do what I did there. I didn't have the patience to figure out something else, and I didn't not want to put in a tag. Still, all the fabric edges are finished, every seam is locked, the patches are sewn on instead of ironed on, so this thing, when empty, should be machine washable at 30°C.

This deceptive little beastie took an entire 400g bag of polyfill to get structurally sound, even with the pouch pre-filled with way more things than I expected would fit. It's a pretty practical size inside for everyday errands. It came out extremely squishy, to the point that I could probably use it as a pillow on a long drive or train ride. The different textures of eyes, patches, tag, body and belly go together nicely.

The shoulder strap was borrowed for about an hour from my wife's purse (thank you, sweetie!) when Hermes smiled down upon us and had us catch one market stall selling fashion straps that was several hours late in packing up and closing. (Lesson learned: drinking a can of Monster before running small errands is a good thing.) Don't have pictures of the new one yet.

It's the size of a medium-large plush, so not ideal for tiny stores while wearing a thick winter coat, but otherwise it did quite well on its first outing.

Just gotta attach the zipper pull with a jump ring, as the sewed on McGyvering I've got right now isn't the most practical.

#nessie #sewing #plushie #handbag #bag #free pattern #working from stash #mostly from stash anyway #learning new things #3D printing #apex legends #patches #it's not dumb if it brightens someone's day #it's SO SQUISHY #no I have not started that dress yet

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000yul · 3 months

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a friend asked for a quick and dirty TL of the new lunar new year official manhua oneshot (Let's Share a Meal Together) so i Tried★ it's a treat!! perfect for the new year

i forget how the siblings address each other in the official TL so i'm winging it here oops .: The movie has concluded, please leave in an orderly fashion. N: Ooh~ These two hours were well-spent. Even if they can't compare to me, this director's pretty promising. N: Hey! Watch where you're going! .: S-sorry…

N: Really now. … N: Feels like Lungmen's been more crowded than usual recently… N: Right! N: It's that time of year again.

(cover) Siblings though they may be, their tastes have nothing in common.

N: So… N: I'm thinking we should have a family dinner for New Year's Eve. CY: I don't know where you got this idea, CY: but that's fine by me.

CY: I don't think you'll find the others as easy to convince though. CY: Ling's such a free spirit you might find it hard to see her in time, let alone Dusk. CY: You don't get along with Dusk. Didn't you guys get into a fight over the bowl of noodles you cooked for her before? N: Bro, aren't you tired? (I know I am, just from watching…) CY: If you persevere every day, you wouldn't tire from something like this. CY: Nian, you should also exercise. Then in daily life, you'll… N: When it comes to martial arts, I'm pretty sure you have everyone in Great Yan beat. CY: Haha, you speak too highly. Even if that were true, if I let my guard down, in forty years there might be someone who can defeat me. N: It's just forty years. With a mortal lifespan, how many people are going to be able to match your years of practice?

CY: It's precisely because their lives are so short compared to ours CY: that the rate of their progress is beyond our imagination. CY: That's why I believe it's all the more important for us to spend time bettering ourselves. CY: Nian, if you feel like you have too much free time, how about I draw you up a training regimen… N: Wow, look at the time, I'm going to miss the next bus. N: I've rented a place in Lungmen, the address is as I said, don't be late, byee! CY: Sigh… This child is as impatient as ever…

Shangshu City N: Well, I've reached this pavilion… N: Why do all these peaks look the same… (bottle of booze) N: … N: She's not taking the bait, is she… N: (Last time Ling showed up for Second Brother's cup…) N: (I guess this doesn't compare…)

N: Open sesame, spin the bottle, whee! L: (I really don't want to show myself.) N: BOSS! GET OUT HERE, I WANT A REFUND! .: Ah…? N: YOU TOLD ME THIS WAS SO GOOD IT COULD TEMPT AN IMMORTAL TO DESCEND! N: THIS USELESS-ASS—

N: piece of… N: When did you get here? L: I've been sitting here for a while now. N: How did you know I'd be here today? L: It came to me in a dream, let's say. N: (here's a souvenir cup I got you.)

L: So what winds called you here from far away? L … I see, so you wanted to call us together for New Year's Eve dinner. L: I'm not against this on principle, but I'm afraid I can't make it that day. N: Why? L: A prior appointment.

L: Ten years ago I asked someone to brew some wine for me, and I'm due to pick it up this year, on the 30th. L: The flavour won't be right if I'm even a day early, L: and after the 30th, they're going to close for the New Year. L: It's true that this time is a big occasion for the people of Great Yan. It's a once-a-year occasion, after all. L: But that has nothing to do with us. L: Let's do it another day. N: You'll regret not having a taste of my homemade hotpot!! L: (Does she think that's a selling point…) L: It looks like little sister Dusk has a storm coming her way…

D: Who goes there? D: NIAN! IF YOU WANT TO DIE I CAN OBLIGE!!

D: You vandalised my art for THIS? N: Wow, the face you're making is ugly as hell. D: I'm not going. D: I can't believe you ever thought me saying yes was a possibility. N: You'll regret not having a taste of my homemade hotpot!! D: Do you think that's a selling point!? N: Oh, right! There's a hot new artist's exhibition in Lungmen. I went to see it and it's pretty good! Aren't you interested? D: If you like it, I definitely won't!

D: I have no interest in the artwork of others. D: Also, if you want a reunion so badly, D: one day we'll all reunite no matter how we feel about it. No? N: Again with that tired old crap.

N: One day, N: I'll make it so that you never say that again. D: Hmph. D: Get lost.

N: Oh man, in the end only you showed up. CY: Haha, well, I hope I suffice. CY: I sent word to the Sui Regulator. N: Ah! CY: I knew it'd slip your mind. N: Man! None of them can commit worth a damn!

N: Will there ever be a time where we can just go somewhere together for a day? N: Like normal people, N: Like a normal family.

L: Ahh~ L: Looks like I'm out of wine L: I should seek out more… D: What a pain. D: I should knock some sense into her.

CY: Nian, CY: Let's get a hotpot with a divider. For spicy and non-spicy. N: Were you even listening? N: No. N: Absolutely not. N: Nooooooooo.

N: Bro! I thought you could handle spice! CY: Alright, now that the shopping is wrapped up, let's head back. N: Why'd you insist on the split hotpot..! N: Brother!! CY: I just think being prepared is a good thing. (Also, I'm not as good with spice as you are.) CY: And, CY: It's not just humans who are capable of change. D: Open up, it's too cold out. D: Idiot. CY: See.

D: What? Your staring is making me lose my appetite. N: Hehe, N: Doesn't the real thing taste better than ink? D: Hmph. Whatever. N: Whoa, it started!

N: I was part of the prep for this year's fireworks show in Lungmen! N: Check out my Super Deluxe Two-Step Firecracker! D: So.. the reason you picked Lungmen was…? L: Alright, alright. L: Dusk, L: It's okay. Open your eyes and see.

N?: It's over. N: It'd be nice if more of us showed up next year. CY: Any more of us and the Sui Regulator is going to start raising a fuss. L: True~ D: I'll skip next time. N: We had such a nice mood going on, couldn't you guys at least try to not kill it? L: Yes, this is nice once in a while.

D: There's nothing special about playing house. CY: Even playing house is nice sometimes. CY: That's why we've gathered here today. CY: Happy new year. L: Happy new year~ N: Happy new year! D: … Happy new year.

N: Alright, we've mostly cleaned our plates and eaten and drunk our fill. N: That leaves one last question. N: Who's doing the dishes? N: Hey, now you're all quiet? N: Hey!!

#i love the sui siblings...#also my girl dusk got so many good faces #arknights #sorry in advance if there are any mistakes lol

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seleneprince · 3 months

Text

Magische Linten (Magic Ribbons)

Contains: Dutch expressions (as a fandom, we forgot too fast that Kerch is a fantasy Dutch and that Kaz used dutch words in the books, like "ja". We should remember it). I used the translator for this, so if there are any mistakes, please let me know. Mentions of the Wandering Isle's culture about Grisha, which includes blood and questionable medical practices. Use some ocs. Saskia is a real character in the books, if you read them, you know who she is. I simply created an oc based on her.

(This follows the plot of the first book, Six of Crows, and not the show Shadow and Bone, althought it will contain references to it because I loved it too)

"There's no way"

"Seriously, I'm not lying"

"It cannot be true"

"Yes, it is. I can vanish anything in my hands and make it appear again somewhere else"

"¿Are you a Grisha?"

"Natuurlijk niet!* It's only a magic trick. I learnt it by watching one of those men with colorful clothes in the street. I think it's called 'illusionism' or something like that"

Saskia frowned. She knew what men he was referring to, but she never heard that word before. It sounded suspicious in her ears.

"¿Aren't what Grisha do basically magic tricks too?"

"Well, technically yes, but it's not the same. Anyone can do this if they learn and practice enough, but not everyone can do what a Grisha can, no matter how much they learn"

"I'm not sure. That trick you said sounded very Grisha-like to me"

"Fine! If you don't believe me, let me show you. I swear it has nothing to do with Grisha."

Saskia didn't quite buy it. It wasn't like she was worried that the boy would hurt her, but what he said sounded very weird. Where she came from, it was said that Grisha were dangerous and the only good thing they had was their blood, which could cure sickness. She remembered briefly when a doctor took some blood out of her when she had fever, and she cried the whole process. She couldn't understand how Grisha were capable of going through that so often, and voluntarily at that. They weren't normal.

But if he said he wasn't a Grisha, Saskia chose to believe him. Her "father" told her these boys were innocent, simple-minded. Her new friend had no reason to lie.

"Oké*, but make it fast. And if you hurt me, I'll hit you"

"I barely have to touch you, I just need something small. A pencil, or a button"

While they looked around them, Saskia brushed some strands from her eyes. She hated how her "mother" styled her hair, with ridiculous ties and curls. That's when she felt one of the ribbons she wore, and had an idea.

"Here", she took one of them off and gave it to him, "Use this"

He blinked at her, surprised.

"¿Are you sure? I don't-"

"You say you can make it appear again, ja? Besides, I have many more like this, so I don't mind if you lose this one"

He stared down at the red ribbon in his hand, his cheeks blushing in a expression akin to flusterment. Like he was holding 100 kruge in his palm instead of a simple piece of silk. When his eyes met Saskia's again, there was no sign of that expression. She was silently impressed with his quick facial control.

"Oké, now let us start!"

He smiled with confidence, and Saskia couldn't help but smile in return at his enthusiasm.

The boy proceeded to turn the ribbon around in his hands, twisting it with before her eyes, until suddenly...it dissapeared. Just like that, she was seeing it clearly one moment and the next she didn't anymore. No noise or twitch that signaled where it went. Saskia's mouth was wide open.

"What the-how did you do that?! You had it in your hand, I was seeing it! How is this possible? It just...vanished"

Instead of answering, the boy chuckled at her. He extended his hands towards her wrist, slowly, and stopped right where his fingers brushed her pulse point. He became still for a moment, worrying Saskia a bit with his lack of movement. Then, with a graceful twist of his hand, he started to move his hand away, and Saskia felt something soft sliding down her wrist.

It was the red ribbon.

She couldn't hide her fascination.

"Dat is geweldig!* How did you do it? I didn't feel it getting under my sleeve, nor I noticed it was there. How can it be?", she narrowed her eyes in suspicion at him, "¿Are you sure you're not a Grisha?"

When her eyes focused on him, she saw something weird. His cheeks were blushing, which didn't make sense because it wasn't that cold in the room. They had been mostly near the functioning chimney since they arrived. ¿Was he getting sick?

"Hey, ¿are you alright? Your face is getting red"

"Ah, uhm, I...it's nothing. I was just nervous that...it didn't work out. Yup, that's it", the boy shook his head, like he just broke out of a trance, and scratched his neck as he turned his eyes away. "And ja, I'm sure I'm not a Grisha. Like I said, anyone can do this"

"Oh, oké then", she had the feeling there was something else, but she got distracted quickly. "Well, I can't do it, and I'm very smart"

He chuckled softly.

"It has nothing to do if you're smart or not. You can't do it because you never practiced. If you tried, I bet you'll do it better than me", his cheeks reddened again, and Saskia thought he looked very cute like that, "You're the most talented person I know. You'll be probably good at everything."

"Well, I wouldn't say that either," now it was her turn to blush, "I read a lot of books, and my brot-my parents teach me many things, so that's why I know some stuff."

There was a pause between them, a comfortable silence that felt unusual in them. Whenever they were together, they talked nonstop and they didn't know how to stay still. Which was good for Saskia, because she couldn't stand silences. They made her nervous and uneasy, and she couldn't afford that. Not with him.

"Can I tell you something, Saskia?"

His voice sounded low out of sudden, and his eyes were fixed on her.

"Natuurlijk*, why do you ask?"

"It's just...I really like being with you and I don't want to make you bother you."

"I don't think you can do anything to bother me, dummy. Go on, what is it?"

He looked at her straight in her eyes, smiling shyly, but with a firm determination sparkling in his orbs.

"You're beau-"

The door was slammed open, showing Saskia's "father" and another boy with him.

"Here you are, ducklings", the man's deep voice captured the children's attention, "I'm sorry, boy, we lost track of time. Saskia, say goodbye to your friend, they're leaving."

"But pappa*, we still haven't-" she stopped herself when the man gave her a significant look. She bit her lip and nodded. "Oké"

They stood up, with Saskia brushing off her skirt and the boy fixing up his jacket. They walked side by side towards the exit, with Saskia's father and the older boy in front of them.

Just when the brothers were about to leave, her friend turned back to her abruptly.

"Wait! Saskia, take your ribbon. I forgot I had it", he extended his hand towards her, with the red silk still in his fingers, but the girl shook her head.

"Don't bother, you can keep it", she pushed his hand back gently. "It's a gift."

He stared at her perplexed.

"What are you saying? Are you sure?"

"Ja. Consider it a thanks for showing me that amazing trick. I loved it", she showed him a genuine smile, and he looked away again. "And if your hairs grows, you can use it to tie it back."

He scoffed playfully, glancing back at her with another smile.

"Yeah, sure, keep dreaming. No way I'm wearing that", his face softened. "See you tomorrow, I guess."

Something warm twisted in Saskia's chest. She pushed it back where it came from.

"Ja, see you tomorrow. And I hope you bring some new tricks. Now I want to see more of them."

He chuckled. Saskia was starting to find the sound very pleasant. She thought she wouldn't mind hearing it more often, and a sense of dread assaulted her. She shouldn't be having these thoughts.

"Ik beloof het*"

And after that exchange, they bid their goodbyes, both still smiling as the distance between them grew. She felt the firm hand of her "vader*" squeezing her shoulder almost painfully. A silent reminder.

A warning.

"Didn't you hear? The Black Tips are dust now. That idioot Geels emptied the vaults to get on the Dregs' bad side, and the Brekker demon set them all packing with their tails between the legs."

"Ja, they even came up with a song for it. 'The Durstraat is on fire and the Dregs don't have no water'. I heard it when I passed by their nest."

"Cocky klootzakken*. But I guess we can thank them for riding us from those rats. One less headache to deal with."

Those were the first sentences that Diantha heard as soon as she set a foot in the Emerald Palace. She twirled her way through the gaming tables towards the bar, expertly avoiding the waving hands and listening their talks about the latest news. The fall to disgrace of the Black Tips.

It didn't catch her by surprise at all. She already heard what happened on her way to the Palace, and haven't she been busy with her last minute assignment at First Harbor, she would've likely gone to witness the whole mess in front row from one of the rooftops. However, she didn't feel dissapointed for having missed it, considering the interesting events that transcurred in First Harbor and that she got to see by herself.

In the bar counter, she found Jesse rearranging some bottles and greeting her with a nod.

"Welcome back, Krett. I take it that it was a successful inspection."

"What makes you think that?"

"Your clothes are still intact and you don't have an ounce of dirt on your face, so I assume there were no fights or accidents. Plus, you have that spark in your eyes from when you got your hands on something valuable and can't wait to show it."

She grinned. She didn't expect less from the Emerald Palace's head bartender. After so many years working behind the counter, Jesse learnt to be particularly observant with people, which allowed him to charm them into a false sense of trust as he filled their cups and pried secrets from their loose mouths. Also, he had known Diantha since she was a kid, freshly initiated into the Dime Lions after her brother, so it wasn't rare he could read her so easily.

"Well, the boss may feel conflicted with the news, but I think it'll distract him enough from the last fiasco."

"I hope so. I'm afraid he's going to be in a sour mood for the following hours, and it'll be nices to keep his attention away from us."

"Is he really that pissed about the Black Tips?"

"I guess it has more to do with the Brekker boy twerfing his plans once again rather than loosing the Black Tips."

Diantha felt her body tense, just like everytime someone mentioned him.

Kaz Brekker, the Dregs' lieutenant, and Pekka Rollins' biggest headache. His long story of crimes and blood stained hands, all in the name of profit, gave him the nickname Dirtyhands. Because there was no line he wasn't willing to cross to get what he wanted. People whispered his name in fear and covered at the sound of his lethal cane tapping the ground as he walked. Not even the Dime Lions were immune to his terrifying presence, but they knew better than to show it when Rollins was near.

She would never admit it, but Diantha was also a bit intimidated by him. Their paths had crossed only a handful times, and they only exchanged few words in them, but something in his eyes when she looked at him made her feel...very uneasy. Like he was about to lunge at her at any moment, but she didn't know when. She assumed it was due to her being a Dime Lion. They were enemies, it made sense he despised her, just like he did with her fellow gang members, surely.

She shook her head to expel any thoughts about him. It wasn't the time to divagate about whether the Bastard of the Barrel had personal reasons to hate her or not. Plus, trying to figure out the mind of someone like him would only drain her own sanity in the process.

Right now, she had crucial information to report to her already angry boss, and Saints knew how he could get if she made him wait.

Kaz Brekker had no power over her, but Pekka Rollins very much did and would gladly use it. And that was enough to push Dirtyhands out of her head at once.

"Really? You think it's wise leaving it like that, with the Black Tips still fuming and crawling around?"

"It's the right course of action. By the way, go call Jesper and Muzzen. I want them here at sunrise. And have Wylan wait for me at the Crow Club tomorrow night."

"Wylan? If you say the job is so important..."

"Just do it."

Inej crossed her arms, glaring at him with the same sharpness as her precious knives. He was sure she was considering murdering him right there.

"Are you going to give me any details, Kaz?"

"Once we're all reunited", he put on a clean shirt and buttoned it up as he walked to his dresser. "This isn't an order, Inej. It's another job, which you're free to accept or deny."

He finished with the buttons, throwing on next a grey vest with little pockets sewn discreetly underneath, perfect to keep tools he didn't want others to find out. Just when Inej opened her mouth, probably to ask something again, someone knocked at the door.

"Kom binnen*" he answered, barely looking at who entered.

It was Rotty, with a solemn expression that clashed vastly from his previous cheeriness.

"Hallo*, sir. We just received news from the Shu's cargment of gold that arrived this morning", he spoke in a rush. "The Merchant Council plan on keeping the ship docked at the port, under the stadswacht's surveillance, until further notice."

"Well, it was to be expected. That stunt Shu Han pulled made their plans a bit more complicated for the future. They'll refrain from touching the gold until they're completely sure of it", he hummed. "But why are you telling me this? That cargment of Shu gold isn't a priority now."

"Sir", Rotty stuttered, avoiding Kaz's dark eyes. "Pekka Rollins knows"

The temperature in the room went down drastically. Kaz freezed in the spot, under Inej's attentive gaze.

"And...?"

He had a feeling of where this was going. Rotty never stuttered before when he mentioned Rollins to him, unless...

"He sent one of the Krett siblings to cover First Harbor, sir."

There it was.

He felt that familiar fire at his stomach, like everytime he heard that name. He could feel the burning climb up his throat, setting his insides on an inferno.

He let out a raspy, humourless chuckle. He should have expected it. Pekka Rollins wouldn't have turn away from such a delicious, tempting treasure, not when he was still trying to plant his roots inside the Merchant Council's core. And of course, he would have sent his favourite puppet to follow the whole operation.

He knew one of the Kretts was out of the Barrel at the moment, so that only left one for the job. Her.

"Thank you for telling me, Rotty. This definitely supposes a change in our plans", he pulled out a new set of gloves and fastened the buttons around his wrists, rather hastly. "We should reconsider First Harbor's importance for us. You can leave now."

Rotty nodded and left the room almost running. Inej eyes him warily. She knew too what that information meant to him.

"What do you have in mind now, Kaz?"

He didn't answer inmediately. His gloved fingers went inside the drawer again, brushing against a worn out piece of red silk he kept hidden in there, only for his eyes to see. A trinklet from a painful dream, a reminder of what his goals were.

He closed it again with a loud thump, before walking out of the room without a single word, leaving the ribbon hidden underneath the documents once again.

(One day, she'll be hidden too, where only he could see her and grasp her)

A/N: Inspired by my discussions with @stayconnecteed about her awesome aus for six of crows and my own silly headcanons. She also happens to be the one who came up with that beautiful cover, so all credit to her. And @mrsmiroir, because we both wanted to see more of Saskia so my mind created this.

TRANSLATIONS:

-Natuurlijk niet!*: Of course not!

-Dat is geweldig!*: This is amazing!

-Ja*: Yes

-Oké*: Allright, okay

-Natuurlijk*: Of course

-Vader/Pappa*: Father

-Ik beloof het*: I promise

-Idioot*: I think this one is pretty obvious

-Klootzakkenn*: Assholes

-Kom binnen*: Come in

-Hallo*: Good evening

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callsign-relic · 9 months

Note

Hi Relic!! Could I have MTMTE Minimus or Mags (either form is good) STRUGGLING to process/act on his feelings for a gn human?? Thank you :D

Hey Monty!! Your MIND this request was so good. You say Minimus and I am THERE. You requested either Minimus or Magnus, so I tried to include proper screentime for both forms, cause who doesn’t love Magnus?

This was so much fun to write out, I hope you enjoy it :)

Warnings: SFW, GN!Human!Reader

It all started that day.

You were a liaison for the planet Earth- a representative for the human race after the dissolution of the Decepticons, in an effort to reconnect and stay on good terms.

When Rodimus introduced you to the rest of the ship, Ultra Magnus didn’t think very much of it. It was just another crew member to take care of, and he’d do his utmost to accommodate the ship for your needs as an organic.

Thankfully, you weren’t the rowdiest human around. You were reserved and mostly kept to yourself, only ever getting into trouble by the hands of one of the many troublemakers aboard the ship.

As you were a liaison, you often had to sort through documents with the ship captains and relay communications you received from earth, and vice versa. Seeing you quickly become overwhelmed with the workload, the SIC offered to assist you in preparing your reviews before your meetings, and to his pleasant surprise, you agreed.

Your days were often spent in his office, where he went over legal technicalities and loopholes within Cybertronian law. Where his nitpicking was usually met with groans- with you, it was met with wide eyes and intent listening. And after a while, your sincerity wormed its way into the commander’s spark- and feelings he couldn’t shake off soon took root.

Soon enough, these meetings became standard practice- a welcome addition to the commander’s packed schedule. He always knew when to expect you and to dedicate time to you, and when to focus his attention on other things.

Except for the day you stopped by off-schedule.

Carrying a datapad within your arms- as best as you could with the Cybertronian scaling- you read through the document onscreen as you made your way over to Magnus’ office. You had taken notes on the commander’s lessons, sure, but the legal jargon in this piece stumped you- and you weren’t sure if it was an issue from being translated from Cybertronian, or really something you were missing. Surely Magnus could take a moment out of his schedule to clarify for you, couldn’t he? Even if he couldn’t, he would at least make note of it to discuss in the next meeting before you forgot.

“Excuse me, Commander Magnus, sir?” You called, standing before the closed sliding door. A human was too small for the motion sensors to pick up on their own, as you were made painfully aware of every time Whirl decided to point it out, so you waved the datapad in the air to see if that would register.

“I had some- urgh- quick questions about this document— aha!” With a proud exclamation, you seem to wave to just the right spot within the motion sensor, and the metal door slides open with the satisfying sounds of the ship’s hydraulics. “Ah, anyway, yeah— I was wondering what section 7 meant by—“

Your expression falters in an instant as you finally take a look inside the office. At the far end of the room, you lock eyes with a small, green bot completely unfamiliar to you- standing before what appeared to be a powered-down Ultra Magnus. His mustachioed faceplate was twisted in horror, and he froze in his place just as you did.

“…Ultra Magnus…?”

Your words are met with no reply as the motion sensors of the door shut off as quickly as they had turned on— the door to the office sliding shut with a metallic thud. Dropping the datapad, you knock a couple of times, hoping either Magnus or that other bot would come over and answer. But after a few minutes of standing and knocking, you’re answered with silence, and you resolve to ask about it when your next meeting with the commander came along.

While the Magnus Armor stood slumped against the far wall of the room, Minimus Ambus stood with his spinal strut pressed frantically against the door- chassis heaving up and down as his vents output air at a rate he wasn’t used to.

He had never intended for you to see him like this.

Well, he wanted to tell you, eventually. But eventually meant after he got to know you more. After he knew you were a human you could trust that information with— after he knew for absolute certain that you wouldn’t lose any and all respect or trust in him the instant you laid eyes on him.

This wasn’t according to plan.

His feelings for you weren’t according to plan.

But, here he was, his spark spinning rapidly in its chamber— thinking he might die if even one interaction with you went wrong. And, in his optics, this interaction very much did.

Solar cycles passed, and the commander anticipated the day of your and his next meeting with dread. What were you going to say? Were you ever going to look at him the same way again? Were you even going to show up?

The final question was at least answered by the sight of you standing in front Magnus’ door, perfectly on schedule, datapad in hand. Ex-venting to himself one final time, Magnus composes himself and approaches you.

As per routine, he offers his massive servo down to you after your greetings, and you step on without hesitation. The door to his office slides open, and the commander makes his way to the desk at the very back- placing you gently upon the surface. He removes his own set of datapads from a nearby shelf and sets them down to begin, and yet…

The commander can’t bring himself to speak.

The tension in the room hung heavy to you both, apparently, as you weren’t sure what to say either. You cast your gaze down, as does Magnus, and the two of you sit in silence for one, agonizingly long minute.

“…about what happened a few days ago—“

When you look up, you lock eyes with the commander, and both of your mouths are agape as you realize you both had spoken the very same words at the very same time. While both of you are left stammering for a minute, Magnus gathers his bearings first, and speaks. “No, no, you go ahead,” he insists.

You look at him with furrowed brows, but clear your throat as you try to think of just what to say.

All the while, Ultra Magnus couldn’t shake the terrible feeling wrapping itself around his spark. The commander recalled the days after his secret was first revealed to the Lost Light’s crew- how he was first met with humiliation. He had grown to depend on the stability of your and his relationship, despite the feelings that he refused to admit were growing within him, and he would hate it if this one thing tore it all apart.

“That day… who was that?”

But, rather than ridicule, Magnus is instead met with your genuine curiosity.

Cycles of the meeting go by, and the commander recounts to you the tale of the Magnus Armor and the Tyrest Accord, and how he became its enforcer. As you asked more questions, he went on to explain that he was truly another mech entirely— and how he regretted not telling you sooner. And as he finishes, you find yourself with one final question.

“Would it be possible for me to see you like that again? As truly yourself?”

The very thought makes Magnus’- or Minimus’- spark run wild. Every part of his processor was telling him no— to politely decline, to keep his and your relationship just as it was, and he didn’t need to expose any part of himself further than he had already.

But as he gazed into your comparatively little eyes, the commander could sense no ill intent behind them. In fact, he saw that very sincerity he had fallen for so long ago.

And so, he agreed.

Standing from his seat behind the desk, Ultra Magnus’ blue optics flicker to black, and steam erupts from the seams between his paneling. The panels on his midsection open with a hiss, and you’re taken aback when a green servo emerges from the opening.

Out from the smoking depths of the Magnus Armor steps Minimus Ambus. While in his layer of protective armor he wasn’t his truest size, he was still the mustachioed bot you had only caught a glimpse of days before.

The desk’s top being level with his face rather than his hips now, the mech cautiously approached the edge- like if he got too close, you’d run off.

But you didn’t. Instead, you approach him, gazing at the minibot with wonder. “So… this is the real you?” You ask, despite already knowing the answer.

The minibot resets his vocalizer. “Yes. It is.”

Every possible outcome was racing through Minimus’ processor- and coincidentally, every outcome ended the same. With you politely rejecting his presence, and him tucking away his own feelings as he always had.

“Why do you ask?” he dares to ask, and never before had he wished to take a sentence back faster. “Does this… change things?”

“Hmm… a little.” You ponder his words for a minute, stepping up to the very edge of the desk. Minimus pulls back just a bit, terrified of the fact that he didn’t know what you were going to do next—

But you simply stand on the tips of your toes, and peck a kiss on his steel cheek.

“Just makes it easier to do that.”

And while mechs couldn’t blush, you’re pretty sure that if they could, Minimus’ faceplate would burn as pink as the very energon that ran through his systems.

#relic writes #Transformers #Transformers x reader #mtmte #mtmte x reader #lost light #lost light x reader #ultra Magnus #ultra Magnus x reader #minimus Ambus #minimus Ambus x reader #Transformers IDW #Transformers mtmte #Transformers lost light

258 notes · View notes

llondonfog · 8 months

Note

Hi!! Feel free to ignore, but I was just thinking about kid silver being adorable AND Halloween because of the upcoming event...and this thought was born—

(This is so long I'm sorry 😭😭)

So, Silver gets de-aged (bear with me here lol)—maybe due to a potions mishap or a spell gone wrong, it doesn't matter which. It's during Halloween week, so everyone's kinda frazzled due to everything being set up, etc. Lilia gets called to deal with it while Crewel tries to figure out a counter-potion/spell wears off because nobody can get in touch with Malleus, and therefore goes to Diasomnia's vice to help take care of Silver (not knowing that they're father & son).

Silver spots Lilia and yells "Papa!" while running to hug Lilia—while Lilia tries to cover up what Silver said. Regardless, he still picks Silver up and cuddles him—he's a silly old man who loves his kid, who can blame him?

Anyway, kid Silver hijinks ensue: running off with the animals on campus, taking naps surrounded by deer, birds, squirrels, etc., calling Malleus "big brother" and Lilia "papa" while around other Diasomnia students (they wouldn't say anything, because Malleus looks so endeared by the little human and Lilia glares and hisses *unknowingly* at any of them who DARE to interrupt their family).

Silver sees Sebek and looks back at Lilia. He's like, "Why did you make him so tall?? Papa, change him back, please!" *cue puppy eyes* he genuinely thinks Lilia pranked him. As much as Sebek says that he dislikes Silver's behavior, he's actually the one to take him everywhere. "You shouldn't miss so much school, Silver! I won't let you besmirch Waka-sama's good name!"

OK, but back to Halloween—Silver dresses up as a knight, or a prince. Maybe a unicorn??? DRAGON?? Any of them are cute tbh. Anyway, they end up going to each dorm to trick or treat (on Halloween night ofc) and Silver charms everyone, because he's Silver. Then, you have Lilia behind him just being the creepiest little demon fae you've ever had the misfortune to see...

As they're going to one of the dorms to get more candy, Silver sees another kid pouting at the lack of candy said dorm has, and their meager amount. Silver, despite having only a few more pieces himself, gives the kid most of his, and gives the other kid a hug. "There, there, you can have some of mine."

Honestly, you can do whatever you want with this, but I'd love to see this written out more coherently, if you want lol

I've been thinking about this for a while, and I NEED more kid Silver being cute and adorable and pure!! He deserves to be cuddled by his family and to eat candy :D

oh my goodness, this whole entire prompt was adorable and thank you for practically writing the premise into my inbox!! i'm not sure this is coherent.....or cuddly....but my mood with lilia has been in a pretty introspective place for sometime so i do hope you find something to enjoy :')

(and i did end up keeping that paragraph after so many of you seemed to like it akaldjll what do i know about anything)

for a fae as long-lived as he, the concept of time is an ephemeral thing. one does not count the years in a decade nor the decades in a century; a fae knows time by the erosion of a mountainside, by the loneliness of an abandoned settlement, or even by the chance meeting of a human wearing the face of another long since passed.

silver fills his arms, helmet askew and heavy with satisfied slumber, and lilia feels the ache of every day that has gone by since he was last able to cradle his son so tenderly in his embrace.

he may be the only fae that now minds his days by the sharpening of his son’s features, a change emerging far too quick and now, strangely, unwelcome.

beside him, serene, the heir apparent to the valley of thorns— looking most pleased himself in their resplendent costumes so artfully reminiscent of the admirable long, yet any dignified mysticism is rendered charmed by the plastic pumpkin bucket clutched in his crimson-tipped claws, brimming with brightly wrapped candy. the overflow is nearly double the amount given to the visiting children, even with silver eagerly dispensing his sugary treasures to any who asked, for no dorm had been able to resist his solemn request coupled with those adorably drowsy eyes and plastic sword when he had so politely asked for one piece more so that their prince might experience trick or treating for the first time. not wanting to be the dorm known for stiffing the fae heir on the most magic-blessed night of them all, both toddling knight and noble dragon walked away, tiny hand in careful claw, with a bounty piled high between them and matching smiles on their twin eager faces.

lilia had been so torn over which to get a photo of first, cheeks aching from stifling his laughter; the vulnerable delight on malleus’ face as silver so kindly presented him with his share of candy, or sebek’s ill-disguised fussing as silver’s sword had slipped from its sheath to drag across the ground.

what kindness to be able to share such precious memories with them once again.

what cruelty to remind him of what would disappear tomorrow morning, crewel’s antidote ready and waiting for them in the dorm.

“...i can see why silver enjoyed such a night of festivity and why he spoke on those memories with you so fondly,” malleus’ reflective tone scatters his wandering thoughts, leaving him to pull his focus back to the present with no small amount of difficulty. “I wish i could have participated in the revelry, but i understand now why you might not have invited me, lilia. the presence of their prince would have dampened any carefree spirits, and i would not have wanted to spoil the fun.”

a wry smile tugs at his lips at malleus’ inaccurate assessment, crooked and out of place, and he can feel the prince’s gaze weighty upon him with surprise, brows furrowing and lips parting with the question on his tongue—

there had been no such festivities, no happily shrieking village children for silver to scamper among, sharing in the night’s delights and trickery with all the innocence of youth.

there had only been an old fool of a general, taking it upon himself to fumble through the recreation of a human spectacle, for no other reason than he could not bear the sight of the boy’s features even mildly unhappy.

he might have wondered how far he could have fallen to find himself repeatedly affecting surprise as he opens the door time and time again to a giggling child, but he knows better now; he had always been steeped in a miserable, lonesome darkness, and to nurture the vulnerable child curled into his chest was to bask in an undeserving light.

without consent, his arms tighten around the slumbering boy in his arms, and malleus is wise enough not to comment.

“I do wonder if silver will be able to remember tonight’s events,” lilia comments lightly as they continue their walk to the dorm, seemingly apropos of nothing and unbothered by the watchful gaze of his young companion.

and he wonders which is more selfish; to wish it so, to have his son’s head filled with such saccharine-sweet dreams of a proper halloween as only a sweet and darling boy like none other deserves— or to cling to the lonely truth of the past, in which a bruised and battered soldier finds a purpose too kind for his bloodied hands in protecting that high and clear laughter of his child, delighting over and over again in the simple fact of his father opening the door.

#lettie's asks #twisted wonderland silver #twst silver #lilia vanrouge #twst lilia #i couldn't not put it in the tags after you practically gifted me a story of its own <3 #something something lilia experiencing a Regret about the loneliness of silver's childhood #and all that was stolen from him #but also that painful notion of a 700 yr old war veteran needing this human child to feel better about himself again #each of them wondering if the other cherishes those memories as much as they do (spoiler: yes.)#ah diasomnia #how you wreck me

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highfantasy-soul · 2 months

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Quick list of things I particularly loved from NATLA Episode 3 - Omashu before my in-depth overview

The whole rebellion inside the Fire Nation - love seeing EVERYONE fighting back

"I think that's what they said - I never listened." ^_^

"What makes you think we're outsiders?"

"We ARE Fire Nation, even out here"

"Irrigation, am I right?" :D

Aang darting through a crowd messing up everyone's day - just straight from the animated!

And the first tease of the cabbage merchant!!!

Our Gaang wasting NO time after the explosion to run in and help

Bloodthirsty Teo ready to recruit Aang to carpet bombing the Fire Nation - yet another example of children's morals and sense of self being warped by this war

How proud Teo is of his father!!

Sokka being able to show his interest in tinkering and engineering!!!

And did I spy some ECLIPSE glasses????

Aang's "no, I'm not going to just leave people in trouble, I'm going to stay and help them any way I can" moment

"He's done the impossible" in the most mocking voice imaginable! XD Adore that Azula isn't afraid to mock her father

And Mai and Tylee cameos!!!!

And the Yuyan archers! So many hints to the future here

Katara practicing her waterbending forms even in the background - really showing that she's taking every opportunity to hone her skills - she's not just perfect immediately

JEEEEETTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!

Honestly first thought cart-boy might have been Haru, but once he caught the Mechanist meeting with the spy, my Jet senses started tingling

Jet's combat - perfect! Katara's skills - growing!!

LOVE how there's such a marked upgrade in Katara's control from her single ball of water and big splash of last episode to her controlled twin water ball attacks

Jet's bird-whistle signal

I started giggling maniacally, knowing what was coming!!

And that DAMN piece of straw XD

Sokka saying 'No, my role is to be a warrior and protect the village' with the most heartbreaking look on his face as he sees the skills he truly loves being devalued (or the perception that their devalued) and then Sai reassuring him and his frown turning into a hopeful look on the verge of a smile. Seriously, my heart, guys

Chills every time Smellerbee throws up her hand and shouts "Freedom Fighters!" and the whole camp cheers - really you see how they're a family, a community, healing together the best way they know how

Honestly, everything with Jet is great - him actually giving GOOD advice to Katara, making him a real person rather than someone who only cares about himself - I believe this Jet actually cares about Katara the person, not just Katara the weapon

Also the fact that there's only the small hand-brush as a romantic gesture, the rest of Katara and Jet's interactions keep strictly platonic - nowhere near as charged as all Sokka's interactions with Suki and Yue

Katara's mom smiling in the sunrise D;

Zuko's annoyance at Iroh loving the city XD

And Lotus tile reference!!

Sokka's paper bird!!!

And oooohhh here comes the fighting!

Such a great choice to pit the Mechanist (Sokka) against Jet (Katara) where they're BOTH bad! This isn't a one sibling is right scenario - both their new allies are doing bad stuff! Very juicy and great plot thread/theme weaving

"To prove you're a jerk!" "Oh yeah, well I don't need proof of that!!"

Cabbage merchant tease #2!!

SSCCAARRRFF ZUUUTTAARRRAAAAAAAAAAA

"This guy - again?" *rolly eyes*

Sokka's first mad plan!! Riding the crates to the palace!!

The Zuko/Aang fight - beautiful, stunning, stylized, classic

Zuko being beaten by a woman furious that he's hitting a child

"YOU READ MY DIARY!!!!!!!!" sorry, "YOU HAVE MY NOTEBOOK!!"

MY CABBAGEEEEESSSSSS!!!!!!!

Water HAWHIP!!!!

Iroh's first firebending in the show is him using it to draw attention to him so Zuko can escape :( not to harm anyone, but to protect

Aang's little "Uh oh o.o"

This was the first episode where it ended and I thought "I HAVE to watch the next one RIGHT NOW"

Damn you cliffhangers

[Masterlist of my NATLA thoughts]

#natla #avatar the last airbender #netflix avatar #atla #natla spoilers #sokka #katara #aang #jet #the mechanist #omashu

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puffcap-factory · 1 month

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Melodies, Past, Redemption

(Yasuo x reader)

Yasuo x reader; angst, a bit of fluff, slight implication of Yone x reader in the story.

It’s somewhat more like a one-sided-love coming from Yasuo, although interpretations are left to readers.

Both characters are trying to heal from the past.

Notes:

The reader was a healer, working on the dojo during Yasuo and Yone’s training period. They were close to you, and Yasuo had grown some secret feelings towards you. But after the war and the death of the dojo’s elder, scarred with the tragedy following after, you had wandered across the land to assist villages in need, and hadn’t met Yasuo after the incident.

This story uses the same set as my previous Yone fic, since it suits well into the timeline. The order will go as follows: Part 1 Yone x reader -> current fic -> Part 2 Yone x reader

I’ll get into more fluff next time. For the sake of my heart.

I hope you enjoy! :D

•~•~•~•

You gazed down at your feet, waves gently ebbing and flowing at your fingertips. The symphony of birds' cawing harmonized with the hues of the orange sky, the sun preparing to retire for the day. Seated upon a rock just large enough to accommodate you, you released a heartfelt sigh, reaching for your treasured lyre - a gift from your mother during your childhood. She told you she had acquired it from a wandering merchant in Shurima, and you had cherished it dearly ever since.

You didn’t know why you were feeling sentimental on this particular day. Facing towards the open sea, the wind tenderly caressed your hair, its strands swaying in a melancholic dance, almost as if it were a reminder of a tragic incident from the past. Despite your best efforts to avoid spiraling into sadness, you found yourself reaching for your lyre, your fingers instinctively moving to play a certain melody – the one you had diligently practiced during your days of training in the dojo. The familiar tune that reminded you of the weight of memories and emotions. The one that… Yasuo himself had thought you with his flute.

You indulged yourself into the melody, closing your eyes as your fingers danced across the strings. The notes were so familiar to you that they seemed to flow effortlessly from your lyre. The gentle sound of the waves crashing against the shore intertwined with your music, adorning the melody with a natural, haunting beauty. Despite the rhythmic cadence of the waves, the melody held its own, each note clear and poignant, refusing to be completely swallowed by the ocean's song.

The melody flowed beautifully for several minutes until you heard the gentle splashing of footsteps on the shore – which sound seemed to stop not too far from you. Immediately, you halted your playing, opening your eyes and becoming instinctively alert. With a quick motion, you turned your head to the side to face the figure standing there, their body facing towards the sea.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to interrupt you.” He kept his gaze fixed to the ocean ahead.

Yasuo – you had not seen this man for so long. Your heart started to beat faster as the sudden adrenaline rushed in, as things you wanted to say, ask, blame, everything flooding in you all at once. Last time you had seen him, it was before he left the dojo to aid the war, disobeying his orders. Then came the tragic news of Elder Souma's death, branding him a wanted criminal on the run. And it culminated in the unthinkable - he had killed his friends... no, our friends, who chased after him, and ultimately, his own brother, Yone.

"Yasuo..." your voice was low, barely above a whisper. You stood up from your seat, facing him squarely as you held the hilt of your sword firmly, though it remained sheathed.

Yasuo noticed your stance, his face twisting with guilt that seemed to consume him from within.

"Don’t… I'm not here to hurt you, please... I would never..." His words came out in a jumble, as if struggling to piece themselves together.

Instinctively, you lowered your hand to your side in response, feeling the weight of his grief and guilt behind his words. You had known this man for so long - an impulsive, determined soul, yet undeniably kind. Despite the strict training schedules of the dojo and your busy role as a healer, Yasuo's carefree nature had a way of easing your responsibilities. During the early times, you were often tasked with catching him for skipping his training, but those moments ended up filled with shared laughter and camaraderie. It was during one of these times that you discovered his fondness for music, hearing him play the flute with skill and passion.

And, Yasuo had always been somewhat protective of you, ensuring blame never unfairly fell on your shoulders, especially when faced with Yone's questioning. Memories flooded back of the times he had accompanied you, stood up for you – his friendly teasing and banter creating a deeper bond between you two. Yone had possessed a certain warmth that had drawn you in, but Yasuo provided you with a sense of security in his own way.

“…I never believed what they said about you. I never believed you killed Elder Souma,” you said carefully, your tone colder than you intended.

Yasuo glanced at you, a little taken aback – to be honest – before turning his head to face the waves, his face showing a mixture of emotions. “Thank you, that is one person less to convince, I believe…” he said with his husky voice.

"But," you continued, your voice trembling slightly. "If you hadn't left..."

If you hadn’t left your post, maybe… Yone might still be alive.

You bit your lip, cutting off your words before they could delve deeper. You know very well you’d get nothing by pressing the matters further into the already guilty man, yet, small part of you still clung to the past – to that certain incident, the weight of it catching up to you. Glancing down at your feet, you watched the waves passing and receding, lost in their rhythm.

“…That thought also haunts me even until this moment,” he sighed. “…I know you would never forgive me for that, but, please know that… I-I’m… truly sorry.”

Yasuo was fully aware of your closeness to Yone, and to be very honest, he would feel a tinge of jealousy from time to time towards his own brother back in the days. But he would never confront you about it, nor Yone, as he silently respected his brother and the bond you shared with him. Your moments with Yasuo held their own special place inside him, filled with cherished memories. He truly appreciated the time you spent together, just as you had accompanied him through his own trials, and that was more than enough for him.

You fell into a heavy silence, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you after voicing your blame, whether deserved or not. Yone, until the end, was consumed with his own self-blaming, and you couldn't find the words to help him at that time. You also felt that you have your share of guilt of the outcome of the incidents. Although Yasuo did leave his duty, you knew there were more factors at play that ultimately contributed to Yone's death.

You mourned deeply for Yone, but you also realized that dwelling on past mistakes would not lead you anywhere. The same applied to Yasuo, you thought. Although he had not shared the details with you, rumors had flown everywhere regarding the incident. Now, after meeting him in this demeanor, you could tell very well that he was truly consumed by his own guilt. His casual, cheeky side was nowhere to be seen.

As you observed Yasuo facing the sea, his silhouette outlined by the setting sun, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy. You balled your fists as you gathered your will to speak.

"…I didn’t mean to push you further down. I’m sorry," you told him as you moved closer to him, regretting what you had said earlier. He looked at you with a sad expression still visible on his face. "There is this past we had shared, but I think it’s time we… move on from that, together, Yasuo." How easy it was said than done, you thought to yourself, but you just had to bring this up to him, trying to nudge him back up. He took a deep breath, his eyes still fixed on the sea.

“I do have my fair share of guilt, you… are not alone, Yasuo,” you continued, your voice soft but firm. You paused, glancing at him, his gaze never leaving the horizon. “…I’m grateful I still have you on my side, I really am… and I hope you still do, too.”

You knew his burden was far heavier than yours, but you just wanted to offer some comfort – in hopes you both find a way to move forward from the shadows of the past. You glanced back into the horizon silently for a moment, before you heard a low chuckle coming from his side.

“…You don’t know how much that means to me,” he said, his voice quiet but filled with sincerity. “You sure don’t change. Thank you.”

He turned towards you, and although his eyes still held a hint of sadness, his lips curved into a small smile – the weight on his shoulders seeming to lift ever so slightly. You smiled back at him – as if to shove the negative thoughts of the past down – feeling a sense of warmth in the air as the ocean wind blew gently around you. You let the silence stretch between you just for a bit, to let every moment sink into you.

“…Hey, how about we travel together for now?” You finally asked. “We seem to be a good pair for traveling.”

“Many people still chase after me, and I don’t want you to get involved. I won’t risk you getting hurt. I would never…” Yasuo's voice held a note of concern as he seemed to object to your idea of traveling together. You could sense his protective instinct, the weight of his past actions still heavy on his mind. Despite his protest, you remained determined.

“Nonsense, I thought you were strong enough to protect me?” A small, teasing smile appeared on your face, lightening up the mood. “I’ll heal you in exchange of your protection.”

He let out a small chuckle at your playful response. “I never said I was… – anyways, you have to know the road I take is dangerous, and I’m being very serious.”

“Yes, I understand it very well, mighty Yasuo,” you smiled at him, putting your hands on your hips. “Besides, I got to learn how to use a dagger for self-defense for a bit. I suppose you can help me train as well, yes?”

Yasuo sighed defeatedly, although he knew you wouldn’t back down so easily, he couldn’t help but smile at your determination. He truly wanted to protect you from harm, but he also knew the enemy chasing him sometimes were more dangerous that it had seemed – and he was not going to risk you for it, not again.

“Okay, okay…” he answered, holding the nape of his neck in resignation. “But promise me, when things get more dangerous, I’ll have to drop you off somewhere safe, okay? No objections.”

“Hey, come on…” you slightly pouted, giving him a playful nudge. Yasuo chuckled at your reaction, a sense of lightness filling the air between you.

The tension of the past seemed to fade away as slowly as the sun sank lower and lower. You could feel the bittersweetness of the past as your closeness to Yasuo was reigniting, even though the war had left scars on both of you. Forgiveness – a powerful notion, one that seemed to hang in the air between you. Despite the pain, there was a glimmer of hope for a new path, a chance to let go of the burdens that had weighed you down for so long.

Yasuo truly cared deeply for you. The memories of your past closeness still lingered in him, leaving him somewhat hopeful that you could find happiness together once more. Yet, he also knew very well that the wounds of the past ran deep, and it would take time to heal.

As the evening descended, casting a warm glow over the sea, you and Yasuo stood side by side, gazing out at the horizon. There was a sense of peace settling between you, a silent understanding of the journey ahead.

You placed your reassuring hand on his shoulders as you came up with good idea to spend the remaining evening.

“Say, you wanna play the flute alongside my lyre?”

#yasuo x reader #yone x reader #angst #league of legends #yasuo league of legends #lol x reader #yasuo x reader x yone #league of legends fanfic #league of legends x reader

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saiyanmazen · 5 months

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Your fiery nature

Another Vegebul ficlet written for the Vegebulocracy's D&D event. I would've finished it yesterday, but I've been struck down by a virus.

The prompt I used for this is obviously rage. This piece is rated somewhere between T and M. Nothing explicit or sexual, but very direct about the topic of sex.

Can also be read here on AO3.

------------------------------------

Vegeta didn't think he would ever have anything in common with the Earthlings. He knew there were similarities between him and Kakarot given their shared race, but he'd been more than disappointed by how corrupted the third class Saiyan had been by the humans. There was very little of his heritage in his blood, beside the physical attributes he reaped the benefits of.

No, there wasn't anyone on this forsaken planet that could measure up to the Prince of All Saiyans.

Or so he'd thought.

The first time he felt the strange sense of kinship was when Baldy was visiting the compound. The small so-called warrior (although Vegeta begrudgingly admitted that he was the only one he carried a tiny amount of respect for - he had at least been ready to kill Vegeta until Kakarot stopped him) hadn't turned his back to Vegeta the entire time he was there; a good instinct to be honest. The midget's fear of him was justified. The Prince was the most dangerous being in the entire universe.

He hadn't paid attention to the conversation, only watched as the Earthlings interacted with each other. Maybe it could prove useful in the future. But it appeared that Baldy said something to the woman that made her angry. Her voice rose to mind-boggling shrillness as her eyes threw daggers at the midget and her mouth spewed the most heinous things at him.

The tiny man was quick to respond, backing away in fear of her wrath, and actually turned his back to Vegeta, leaving him open to attack. In fact, the bald man backed directly into Vegeta where he was leaning against the wall. Baldy didn't even flinch when he felt himself collide with the genocidal alien, still keeping his attention on the furious woman.

Vegeta was frankly offended. Why was a warrior afraid of a person as weak as her? She practically had no ki at all.

He pushed the midget to the side, possibly through the wall, and approached the hysterical female. Her rage was no match to his and, though he'd given his word that he would do no harm to her and her family, he wasn’t going to let her behave this way in front of him. Her screeching was awful to his ears and her language some of the foulest he'd heard in his life, but he would stop her. He shouted with all his might that she better shut up right this instant.

She quieted a moment, her blue eyes zeroing on him with blinding white rage, and then she directed everything at him. Her ferocity shocked him and, even as he returned her fire, she didn't back down, not once.

He'd never experienced anything like it. No one, even Frieza, had ever spoken to him like that. But he suddenly found something in another that he could relate to: an intense and burning rage.

She was magnificent. A wildfire hidden right beneath the surface of her deceptively weak appearance. In spite of the insults he flung at her, he was enchanted by her fiery nature.

After their fight somehow came to an end (which might have ended with him walking away in anger after she'd threatened to dismantle the gravity room), he felt invigorated in a whole new way. He knew that he would never look at her the same way again.

It quickly became clear to him that it wasn't just Baldy who feared the force of her wrath. Her little boytoy lost all his (unearned) bravado whenever her temper spiked, Kakarot would immediately do his best to placate her and even the Namekian was quick to disappear at signs of her nasty behavior.

Vegeta could never act so cowardly. He stood his ground and gave back, making her rage flare to almost explosive levels. It caused a strange sensation in him, an attraction to her that he eventually acknowledged had something to do with his Saiyan genes. The women of his race had been fierce and unafraid of even the greatest warrior, no matter how inferior their strength was. And Bulma’s steely gaze and cutting words made him feel more at home than he ever had before.

He began seeking her out, goading her into fight after another, relishing the sparks flickering between them as they exchanged blows.

It inevitably became physical, albeit in a way he was unfamiliar with. Not that it stopped any of them from pursuing this new passionate dance. They wrestled for dominance every time and it blew his mind every time. It drew him even more to her, much to his chagrin.

Over the time spent together, they learned not to come to blows at every turn. It took the birth of their infant child and the death of their future son for them to find a peaceful co-existence. They still argued, often to the point that the other inhabitants would clear out for a while until the dust had settled. It was usually after they'd aggressively worked things in a physical manner.

At times they'd be forced to put their quarrels to the side. Those were his favorites. She would pounce at him at an unexpected moment, push him into the mattress, a wall or wherever she attacked, wrath burning in her eyes, and put her whole body into releasing that anger at him. She would move like a wild beast, scratch and bite at him, pull his hair and even yell at him while they both reached the peak.

She was glorious, a true Queen worth of any throne, passionate and strong in all ways that mattered. He was lucky to have found a woman whose temper could match his own if not outdo him. After all, her rage could even make a god cower in fear. And Vegeta wouldn't have it any other way.

#Vegebulocracy D&D #bulma #vegeta #vegebul #dragon ball z #vegebul fanfic #dbz fanfiction #other tags probably

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sweetlywriting · 10 months

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Normal

Johan Liebert x reader

Synopsis-You’re a college student struggling to keep up with the work of your prestigious law school, luckily an intelligent man named Johan Liebert has volunteered to tutor you.

A/N-gn reader, sfw as always, surprisingly no violence for a Johan piece lol, I’ll write another part of people like this.

He seemed very normal, but deep inside he had always struck you as an enigma.

You went to the same college. It was a old and presitigous law school and you were barely passing, having hit the lows of college. That was when you first noticed him. He was first to arrive and last to leave the class. He knew all the answers and was practically invisible. But far more importantly, after school tutoring was required after failing so many classes. You held your head in shame walking to meet your new tutor, not happy to get lectured by one of your pretentious classmates who probably bought their way in.

“You’re Johan right?”

"Yes. I will be tutoring you until the next exams"

He had a smooth coyish voice and a measured smile. There was just something about him that felt affinitic and made you want these quick criminal law study sessions last so much longer. His help really was raising your grades, but that only meant that you’d see him less. So you painstakingly circled D when you knew it was A. And it worked. Your professor shook his head and assigned you another semester worth of tutoring. This time twice a week much to your excitement.

“It seems I’m not quite as effective teacher as I thought I was.” He said sighing.

“No-“ You started to rebuke him only to see that if he knew it was working and you just acting like a school kid over some silly crush, he’d likely stop tutoring you.

“Hm? Is there some other reason for your failure this semester?” He said with a small smile.

You swallowed. Was it that obvious? It was as if he could read your mind but instead of simply telling you, he wanted you to tell him yourself in the most complicated and equally uncomfortable way possible.

“I think it’s just the administrative law that I’m struggling on.” You said with a nervous laugh.

His face flickered through emotions you didn’t recognize but he eventually put his usual smile on and brought out a administrative law textbook. Phew. You had gotten away with it but wouldn’t likely be as lucky next time.

It felt a little silly, but you had started to wear the colors that matched what he had worn to the lectures, and showing up early so you could sit closer to him, and even looked for his name on the club sign up sheets, just to see if you could catch a glimpse of him and his ever mysterious personal life. He was addictive, the way he walked, the way he talked. You had never met someone quite like him.

There was a pop quiz on Friday and some nice senior had luckily tipped you off, so here you were studying with Johan.

While you had failed so you could spend more time with him, you worked hard to get here and certainly didn’t want to get kicked out.

“Administrative law, isn’t something that usually lawyers deal with because they directly challenge a law or order created. Cases like these take a while to get resolved and have a plethora of rules.”

“What type of lawyer do you want to be?” You blurted, interrupting his sentence and tearing his eyes from the textbooks and folders and notes littered on the table.

“Hm?”

“I was just curious I mean you’re proficient in almost all of the different types you could choose whatever you find the most interesting-“

“I don’t want to be a lawyer.”

You blinked dumbly back at him. But before you ask he already responded.

“Can I ask you something?”

“S-sure”

He leaned over the table, hands on both sides of your chair as he casually moved a strand of your hair back and whispered in your ear.

“Have you ever thought of becoming something bigger? Something more . . . unorthodox?”

He slid a folder from underneath the others closer to you and you peered at the hundreds of newspapers clippings, and the crime on each one.

"I hope one day, you can understand.”

His lips grazed your ear for only a second, leaving you in a confused daze.

Perhaps not normal.

#fanfiction #monster anime #monster x reader #johan x reader #johan liebert #Johan #x reader #fanfic #monster fanfic #I love writing for him even if the characterization is hard #he’s a silly guy

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2-sleepy-for-this · 1 month

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Little Ribbon Dancer

Howdy folks! Here is a lil oneshot to get me back in the swing of things. :)

This is just a thing for @crustysoapbubbles, you requested this a while ago, sorry it took so long, I’ve been all over the place. Hope you like it! Some groovy Gangle G/t angst :D

tw ~ falling, fear, unintentional fearplay, minor self depreciation, Kinger shenaniganary Word count ~ 1k

When Gangle woke up in the morning, the last thing she expected was her bed to be like a vast expanse of fabric around her. In fact, her whole room was gigantic to her…

What kind of nightmare…

Gangle suddenly gasped. This was too real to be a nightmare, and it seemed like it wasn’t her room that grew.. she shrunk.

The ribbon character started to panic, breath quick and uneven as she looked around. The constantly worried eyes of her mask seemed appropriate for this situation.

What would she do? There wasn’t much she could do at the moment… maybe find Caine?

With trembling ribbon limbs, Gangle stood and looked over the edge of her bed. She saw the drop to the floor was long… and even though she knew cartoon physics wouldn’t let her get seriously hurt, she still felt terrified of the drop.

However.. she noticed how on the floor next to the bed there was a pillow, one of the five that she didn’t use much that had probably fallen off the bed in the night.

This would be scary… but there wasn’t another option, so Gangle walked to the very edge and prepared to jump…

Only to attempt to chicken out at the last moment. But the momentum of the running start caused her to fall anyway with a startled yelp.

Fortunately, she landed on the pillow anyway and was only mildly disoriented.

Looking around, she saw that the door had a crack under it big enough for her ribbon body to fit under.

By the time Gangle made it down the hallway of bedrooms, she was completely out of breath and tripping over her own feet. Finally, she took a moment to catch her breath, and that’s when she noticed the familiar form of a royal-looking chess piece.

Kinger seemed to be staring, dissociating most likely, and not paying attention… he would be a good help in finding Caine…

Gangle ran over to him, yelling out his name but soon realizing that he couldn’t hear her, whether from the dissociation or her size change, she didn’t know.

Regardless, she still tried waving her arms around to gain his attention… and she almost regretted it when she did because immediately his eyes were blank and looking at her in a way she thought was much more intimidating while she was the size of a hand.

Kinger gasped loudly and suddenly, staring down at her with wide eyes.

“Part of an insect collection…”

He muttered under his breath, one of his disconnected hands reaching out to grab Gangle. She let out a squeal of fear and covered her eyes with ends of her ribbon hands. She was grabbed by the giant hand and lifted up high into the air, only to a normal sized person it was only a few feet off the ground.

The grip wasn’t tight though, not to her flattened digital body of ribbon, and once the hand stopped at kingers eye level, it opened, leaving Gangle sitting in his open palm as he inspected her.

“K.. Kinger! It’s me!”

She spoke up with very little confidence, her arms practically tied together with how much she nervously fidgeted with them.

There was a pause, of Kinger being frozen and silent… Gangle knew what was coming.

A sudden scream came from the chess piece character as the hand she was on flailed at a high speed, she was wrapped around his thumb for dear life…

She squealed in fear as she was flung around while Kinger continued to scream.

“Stop! Stop- wait!”

As her tiny voice yelled, Kinger paused and brought his hand up to his face in surprise, his constantly wide eyes staring at her in curiosity and confusion.

“Oh, Gangle. You startled me…”

He sounded exasperated from the screaming. She was still shaken up from the unexpected flailing… though Gangle supposed she should have suspected that considering startling Kinger was never a good idea.

“Uh.. sorry, Kinger.. I-I don’t know what happened to me”

She sounded like she was on the verge of tears. Without her comedy mask, that’s how she always felt. Small. Sad.

Only now that was literal.

“Hm… well, maybe it was your mental perception of yourself losing your mask, causing you to feel mentally small, turning you physically small.”

He spoke with a surprising amount of sense. Gangle stared at him for a moment.

“You mean… my digital form matched my mind…?”

“…. Your what?”

Immediately Kinger went back to his own strange mental state, forgetting everything he had just said. Gangle sighed and decided not to bring it back up, instead wanting to focus on her original plan.

“Just… can you take me to Caine?… I-I don’t.. like this.”

“Right, yes, of course!”

He made his way around the circus tent, searching, while also keeping his palms cupped against his royal cape. They continued like that until eventually they spotted the AI ringmaster dusting the ceiling of the tent upside down. After calling his name once he was levitating in front of them, his boisterous voice boomed.

“Well, hello Kinger! Any particular reason for disrupting my cleaning duties?”

The chess piece held up his hands. Gangle stared up at Caine with an apprehensive look before muttering.

“H-hi… can you fix this..?”

“Well, let’s see…”

Caine inspected the tiny figure, a hand where his chin would be if he had one.

“A glitch! Simple fix, Gangle! There!”

He snapped, and suddenly Gangle was normal sized again, causing Kinger to scream again and drop her. She dusted herself off and looked down at herself. She didn’t expect it to be that easy….

“Hey… Caine… could you also… f-fix my comedy mask..?”

She asked hopefully, wanting her other face fixed if Caine had already helped her once so simply.

“Hm… No! But… An adventure will cheer you up!”

Gangle gave a saddened whine as a collection of groans sounded throughout the tent, signaling that the others had heard the unfortunate words of adventure.

Maybe next time.

——————

thanks for reading! Any more prompts for one shots are welcome! I may do a list of fandoms I’ll write for soon :)

Tag list: @da3dm @i-am-beckyu @lunar-but-little @phoenix-on-the-run

#giant/tiny #g/t community #g/t #tadc g/t #giant!kinger #Tiny!gangle #Shrunk gangle #the amazing digital circus g/t #<3 #been a while since I thought about tadc tbh #Still love it tho!

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