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cassidymb121 · 23 days

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OMG It’s You… (Part 6.5)

YouTube! Fem reader x Stray Kids

Summary: Y/N’s YouTube channel is taking off after her reactions to Stray Kids MV God’s Menu. Now she’s making videos nonstop along with working a full time job. What would happen if she got offered a job of a lifetime and met the boys of her succession?

⚠️Warnings⚠️: cursing, crying, confusion, fatigue, Lee Know coming in clutch, Chan admits to being jealous of reader (let me know if I missed anything)

🏷️: @laylasbunbunny @weirdowithaphone @silverstarburst @jusanontstuff @anxiousskylar @drewsandsebastianswife @amararosesblog @niaalove (Taglist open)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 2.5 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9

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Third Person POV

Y/N never imagined that she would be summoned to the conference room at her workplace, especially by unfamiliar individuals not from the United States. Nevertheless, they were seated on one side of the table, while Y/N found herself on the other, facing a stack of papers with the word "CONTRACT" emblazoned across the top.

“So, what do you say? Would you like to work with us?”

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Y/N’s POV (One week ago)

I felt like I was glued to my computer screen for an eternity. Realizing I was making no progress, I pushed myself away from the desk and flopped onto my bed. I had never felt this exhausted before. The past few weeks had been a whirlwind, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I was falling behind. Perhaps it's time to hit the reset button and start from scratch.

Flashback (Two weeks prior)

Pulling up my camera, I press record and wait three to five seconds before starting. “Y’all.” I huff, still trying to catch my breath. “When I made this address, I expected to get some packages here or there. The post office called and told me I must pick up my packages because they overflowed. I thought….You know what, let me show you instead.” I pick up a vast draw bag of packages inside. “I have three of these, and that’s not including them.” I grab a basket of letters or other small packages. “I had to take my grandfather’s truck because my car was too small to fit everything. I honestly thought that I wasn’t going to get this much stuff. I’m afraid I won’t be able to get through all of these before they call me again, saying I have more waiting. I told y’all I don’t need anything; I already have too much.” I start looking around my room. “Where the hell am I going to put all this? I have no room, ugh.” I turned back to the camera. “I love y’all to death, but this is way too much.”

Looking around, I let out a big sigh. “I’m grateful, honestly. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not mad or upset. I’m more surprised than anything. I don’t want y’all to waste your money on me. I'd rather you keep that for bills, food, clothes, etc. Though at the end of the day, I can’t stop you from sending anything.” I sit down in my chair, worn out since those bags were heavy. “I know I promised you that I would record everything I open, but then again, I didn’t expect to get this much fan mail. I’ll do my best to record what I can. Hopefully. What I can’t, I’ll try to thank you in letters.” I laugh a little to myself. “I feel like I’m digging myself a hole, making all these promises and talking about sending letters. I don’t want to let anybody down. I want all of you to know that I appreciate everything you do, and I don’t want any of you to feel left out if I don’t show you opening up your package or letter.”

I get up and grab one of the big bags. “I’ve got to record an upcoming video, but as soon as possible, I will record myself opening up some of these packages. I could do a live stream of me opening some of them, too. I’ll have to see how I’m feeling that day. Either way, I love y’all and hope you have a great day. Bye!” I turn the camera off and instantly drop my shoulders and head. ‘Why do I do this to myself? I knew I was in over my head when I did this.’ I look down at all the stuff people sent. “Well, I better get started on the album review before I worry too much about these.”

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Third Person POV (Before Y/N’s video above)

The boys had been worrying/stressing over what to send to Y/N. Chan had convinced the rest of the boys to send a gift and a letter from each of them so that she would know who it was from. Some guys knew exactly what they wanted to send, others couldn’t decide. Each one agreed that they would all send their stuff at one time, so hopefully, she would get them all around the same time. Lee Know walked into Felix’s room, seeing the Sunshine himself writing a letter. He knocks on the door to announce his presence.

Felix turns to his older Hyung. “Hey.” Lee Know grins, and Felix responds. “Hey.” His Hyung sits by him. “How’s it going?” Felix drops his head on his gaming desk. “Terrible. I can’t think of anything to write.” Lee Know observes him before replying. “You don’t have to think about it so much. Just write what comes to your head.” Felix scuffs. “Easy for you to say. You don’t overthink everything like I do.” Felix runs his fingers through his hair. “Normally, I could already know what I’d want to tell someone. Right now, I’m coming up blank.” Felix, frustrated with himself, pulls on his hair.

“Do you want to see what I wrote?” Felix turns to his Hyung. “I don’t want to copy what you wrote, Lee Know Hyung.” Lee Know smirks. “I know. I wrote two of them, in case you couldn’t think of anything. They’re not the same letter. Here, take it.” He pulls it from his back pocket. “You can always rewrite it in your handwriting if you want.” He gets up to leave before turning around. “We’re sending them out tomorrow, so have it ready by tonight.” Felix nods his head, smiling. “Thank you, Hyung.” Lee Know returns the smile. “You’re welcome.”

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After Y/N had recorded and edited both versions of the review for the Oddinary mini-album, she sent one to JYP and saved the other for the release date. She decided she’d take a small break before she would start recording herself on opening fan mail. She had to wait a couple of days before she got the chance to re-record herself.

“Hello, Lovelies, and welcome back to the channel! So, we will start opening some of these packages today since I have so many. I will warn you that I’m bad with names, so if I don’t pronounce your name correctly, don’t get mad at me.” I laugh lightly. “These will probably be different videos since I know I won’t be able to open all of them in just one video. Okay, let’s get into it, shall we?”

Little did Y/N know eight boys were waiting for her videos to come out. They wanted to see her reaction to the gifts they gave her. When the day finally came, they gathered around a TV to watch her. “What in the world is this?” She pulls out a package and sees there’s no name on it. It’s also from a PO Box address but from Seoul, South Korea. She looks at the camera with a questionable expression on her face. Pulling out her scissors, she cuts the package open. The first thing she grabs is a letter with her name on it. She opens it, and what she does next makes all the boys happy. Her jaw drops, “There’s no fucking way. This cannot be real.” She looks at the camera, back to the letter, then back to the camera again. She swallows slowly before speaking.

Dear Y/N,

I’ve followed your videos since you reacted to our MV God’s Menu. The guys and I have been quite your fans. When we saw that you created a PO Box, we knew we wanted to give you something from each of us. We hope you enjoy everything you get, and thank you for always supporting us through our journey.

Signed,

Lee Felix

She tears up a little bit and wipes her eyes immediately with her hands. “So that means you’ve seen me make a fool of myself this entire time. Damn. Well, at least you know this is the real me. What you see is what you get. Now you just made a lot of Stays very jealous.” She laughs and points at the camera. “Y’all don’t come after me now.” She puts the letter to the side and opens the package more to see what’s inside. She pulls back and starts laughing hard. “Felix, have I ever told you how much I love you? Because I do. Hold on, everyone, I’m about to show you what he got me.” She pulls out a container of brownies he made along with the recipe on top. “I knew the package looked weird, but I now understand why. He said he had to use vegetable oil to preserve them while being shipped.” She looks at the camera and smiles. “Thank you, Felix. I will enjoy these.” She puts them off to the side and grabs something else from the package; she turns it over to see a little bracelet with his skzoo. “Ooh, I love that. That’s very precious.”

She turns to look at her other bags. “So I’m not constantly thinking about the other guys’ packages. I will see if I have them all to open them one after the other. I’m quite nervous now. Especially since I know they’ll be watching this video.” The boys can’t help but smile at her. She searches through the bags and manages to find all of them. “This one looks promising.” She had grabbed Hyunjin’s and carefully opened it. What was inside made her gasp. It was a painting of flowers in a glass vase. The painting itself was mute but had pops of colors on the flowers. “That is so beautiful, Hyunjin; I love it. Did I ever tell you that my grandmother is an artist herself?” Hyunjin’s eyes widen upon hearing that statement, and the boys do, too. She steps out of view and calls for her grandmother.

Her grandmother comes into view. “One of my fans painted this for me.” Her grandmother compliments the painting, and Hyunjin lets out a breath he doesn’t know he is holding. He also gave her some facial masks since he knew she enjoyed those more than makeup. Each member gave her a letter with similar words to Felix’s, hoping they would meet her one day. They went for more sentimental value ideas since they knew she didn’t like costly items. Seungmin had given her a book he enjoyed reading and even got her a box of tea he wanted. I.N. gave her their Oddinary album book and an unreleased box of photo cards. Changbin had given her a couple of their shirts from the Oddinary merch collection. Han had gifted her a new light stick with a Quokka keychain.

Y/N thanked all the boys for their beautiful gifts, which finally reached the last two members. If anyone ever asked her which two she would consider her biases, she would tell them Chan and Lee Know. While she loves all the members equally, those two (including Felix) stood out the most to her. One package is bigger than the other, but only by a little. Both feel soft like a pillow, and she’s torn over which one to open first. She almost forgets that she’s being recorded. “I don’t know which one to open first.” She laughs to herself. “I feel that there’s more clothing in both of these. I guess I’ll go with this one.” She grabs the slightly smaller one and cuts carefully. Inside is a hoodie, not just any hoodie, but one she’s familiar with. She pulls the letter out and opens it. She’s glad she knows how to speak and read Korean; otherwise, she would have to use her phone to translate.

Y/N,

Usually, I wouldn’t say I like sending things to people, but I will make an exception for you. Your channel has brought me comfort on hard days. I never realized how much they meant to me until I unconsciously looked up your videos. I want to give you this to have on your bad days. To know that you’re not alone and have people who care about you. I have included a small bottle of my cologne that you can spray on it when my smell starts to fade. I also included a unique Leebit plush that hasn’t been released yet. Thank you for being your true self and making others happy.

Sincerely,

Lee Minho

Y/N had tears rolling down her face, but she didn’t go to wipe them. Lee Know didn’t know whether he went too far or his gift wasn’t good enough. But she turned to the camera and smiled, hoping Lee Know could see her. “리노님 정말 감사드립니다. 너무 마음에 들고 잘 보살펴 드리겠습니다.” He smiled right back. “천만에요.” She grabs a tissue and wipes her face. “Okay, this is the last, then I’ll end the video here.” She opens the last package and inside is a black jacket with white writing. Her eyebrows scrunch together as she looks at it. Once she realizes what it is, she looks at the camera with her hands on her hips. “Christopher. Now I know damn well that you better not have spent a lot of money on this jacket. Don’t act like I don’t know my clothing brands; I know just how much this cost and it’s too much.” She shakes her head like a mother would when disappointed in her son. “Good grief. What am I going to do with you, mmhm?” She pulls out the letter and opens it.

Dear Y/N,

I wanted to be honest with you from the start. I didn't know how to feel when Stays first talked about you and how much you were like me. I felt like someone was trying to copy me. It didn’t help that the other guys adored you and talked about you constantly. You were always somewhere in my head, and I couldn’t get you out. I tried, but it only seemed to make it worse. It wasn’t until I found you crying your eyes out that it all changed. I’m not saying that your crying made me change my views about you, but I realized you’re a human being like me. Seeing you upset made me want to comfort you. You were holding my skzoo to dear life. I let my emotions control my thoughts of a person without getting to know who they were. I wanted to give you something to remember me by. This jacket is mine, and I also included something to spray on it when the smell starts to fade. There’s one crucial item in here that I want you to have. It’s not mine, but it’s a replica. I want you to have it and remember that not only are you by our side, but we are by your side, too.

Sincerely,

Bahng Christopher Chan ❤️

Y/N’s emotions were all over the place. He was jealous of her because he thought she was copying him. But it changed when he realized she was kind all along. Chan was feeling the heat from waiting for her response and the looks on his member's face. They see her pull out a bracelet. It’s the same Stay bracelet that Chan wears. She finally spoke up. “Wow, I don’t know how to feel about this. I, for one, appreciate you being honest with me. I don’t understand why you would be jealous of someone you’ve never met, but then again, I don’t see things from your point of view. I could understand if you have people who say I’m exactly like you. However, that’s not entirely true. Um, I’m kind of at a loss for words right now. I don’t hate it, but believe me, I don’t. I love the gift; I love all of them. The letter makes me ask, where did I go wrong?”

She looks back up at the camera before continuing. “I’m willing to look past this as long as you and I get along. And to Stays, please do not go bashing Chan for any reason. I better not find any of y’all being mean to my boy. I’ll find you.” She points her index and middle fingers to her eyes and the camera. As if saying, ‘I’m watching you.’ “I could see that if it were the other way around, I’m sure he would react the same way if I were him in this situation. But outside of that, I greatly appreciate the gift, Chris. Thank you.”

“Thank you all for watching! I hope to have more of these videos up soon. Until then, I will see you next time. Bye!”

End of Flashback

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Present day

Which brings Y/N to today. When she arrived, the overhead boss told her the CEO wanted to see her. She started replaying everything she’d done, and nothing stood out. The only thing she could think of was something outside of work that had to do with her channel. After her Ordinary review went up, she received a call from an out-of-country phone number. She didn’t answer as she didn’t know anyone outside of the States. Maybe besides the email she got from JYP, there wasn’t a phone number listed.

She had let it go to voicemail, hoping that if it were necessary, they would leave a message. They left a message, and what she heard stunned her.

“안녕하세요, 저는 MNet Digital Studios에서 전화를 겁니다. 나는 여기 입장에 대해 y/f/n과 이야기하기 위해 전화하고 있습니다. 다시 전화해 주시면 감사하겠습니다. 안녕.”

(A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I kind of threw some things together hoping that they’d work. Wasn’t really sure what I wanted each member to gift to the reader, but I hope it makes sense. Anyways there’s more to come!)

((A/A/N: I forgot to add the translations in.

Blue- “Thank you so much Lee Know. I love it so much and I will take very good care of it.”

Green- “You’re welcome.”

White- “Hi, I’m calling from MNet Digital Studios. I’m calling to speak with Y/F/N about a position here. If you could please call us back. Bye.” ))

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leafofkudzu · 6 months

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Hello and happy impending December! The first Saturday of said impending month fast approaches, which means it's time for another art party hosted by my guild, Verdant Shield [VS]! I had been toying with the idea of a Wintersday themed party for this month, but since the holidays are a ways off still, let's instead kick back and take in the warm wintry vibes of the Zelechor Hot Springs!

For those who aren't familiar with art parties, they're a concept carried over from Final Fantasy XIV - in-game get-togethers for artists/writers/creatives of all types to hang out, chat, and create together! Get your favorite character/look together, head to the location, find someone that catches your eye, and create! Afterwards, everyone posts their creations in a shared tag (ours is #VSArtParty) so others can see, interact, and share! Tl;dr: the ‘goal’ of an art party isn’t to be drawn, but to draw others, and share with the community!

Time and /squadjoin information is under the cut, but will also be posted again via reblogs as the squads go up on the day of the party!

Location Information:

The Zelechor Hot Springs is a location that's been suggested a few times, and met this month's loose criteria for a wintry theme, so tada! It's about halfway up the West side of Wayfarer Foothills, and has a convenient waypoint literally directly at it, no mounts or funny trickery required!

This might be the most useless map image yet, but ta da!:

Time & Squad Details:

The time zone weirdness from last month has now sorted itself out, so unless you're in an area where Daylight Savings Time doesn't apply, things should be back to their normal times again!

As we always do, we'll be having two parties - one on EU servers and one on NA ones - with an hour break in between, though people often jump directly from one to the other so don't be surprised to see things running late and/or starting early!

The first party will be on EU servers and begin at 9pm Central European Time (aka 3pm Eastern Standard Time or 4 hours before in-game reset). I'll be hosting on my EU alt account, so to join either /squadjoin or whisper Aemryn of Dusk for an invite.

The second party will be on NA servers and begin at 7pm Eastern Standard Time (aka 1am Central European Time or at in-game reset). I'll be hosting on my main account, so to join either /squadjoin or whisper Zhalsi for an invite.

Closing Words:

My apologies for the slightly delayed post, and also for the strange format of the image - I'm on a trip out of the country atm and apparently forgot to bring the right external drive with all my stuff on it! But I still have computer access, so don't you worry about the hosting of stuff, I'll be just fine!

Thank you all for coming out to these, I know I don't talk much aside from fielding whispers from people wondering what's going on, but I do enjoy watching everyone have fun and make such good memories together! These events are the highlight of each month for me, for sure, and I can't wait to see you all again next week! ♥

#no wintersday theme just winter #we chill(ing in a hotspring) let's goooo #gw2 #guild wars 2 #obnoxious tourist simulator #vsartparty #📢🎨

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jazeswhbhaven · 2 months

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It saddens me to say lovelies...that the future of this account...is that of a concerning fate....

WAKE UP LOVELIES

...it's the first of the month....

This account for one isn't going anywhere btw. Had to make a little jokey joke because april fools day y'know.

I do have some updates though since I always give them for each month. 💖

First, I've finally made it to 500 follows??? Thank you all for being amazing and showing up and showing out for the love on all my drabbles, request answers, just anything. Especially my brain rot. A couple of things I'd like to address for this blog as it grows is the following:

-this is a judgement free zone within reason. i have my boundaries and strong opinions that may pop up, my intention isn't to be 'hoiler than thow' or wave fingers (i mean i'm playing a demon sex game hello?) but at the same time, there's some stuff that just ain't it and i will bring it up if i feel the need to to establish my limits.

-i am only one admin with audhd and a fucked up sleep schedule. so i may be late to the hype, right on it, or it's two days later and i'm catching up. that's just how it is

But I welcome you, and if you're new...enjoy your stay, it's wild here.

NOW onto my requests/inbox

If you've checked my pinned there's been updates. As of today, any request sent from now until the end of the month will not be answered until May in the order received. Any requests you see posted during April are old ones I hadn't gotten to. I'm working this month on how to organize requests, and make sure I stick to my waiting times as per stated or throw them out. I like working on requests, it gives me something to do. However I really wanted to focus on creating my own content for the blog, that's what I started this entire thing for (if any of you remember my old now shadowbanned blog) that was the base of it. Which segways into this next bit. I am dangerously shifting into burn out mode....

The thing about being nuerodivergent and on medications for different illnesses, and while trying to build a healthier lifestyle, I am constantly battling wanting to keep up with my writing peers on posting fics, answering requests, being a part of a fandom again.

But ngl the numbers are killing me. I get anxious about getting a huge following and then coming up short cause I know how it gets. Hard criticism, parasocial relationships, hate follows, that shit haunts me. So when I try to answer ya'lls request quickly I sit here at my computer numb and brain full of fog because I simply can't think of how to answer. That's been happening a lot. And truthfully April is never a good month for me. I just want to coast this month...be minimally busy as possible and just not think much. To rememdy that, this is why I have decided to take an entire month off taking any new requests. A reset. Trying to find that balance. I need it before I crack.

Andddd now for some light hearted stuff.

It's my birthday month!

idk if I'll be doing a special thing on this blog during that time, but if I do, you'll know~ Beel's birthday is on the 4th btw so that's really cool we share the same month ^^ Got him on the quiz, both of us have adhd, and now the same birthday month. He just wants me to surround myself around him huh? i don't mind that tho. that's my boo.

To end this long ass post, stay awesome, stay lovely, and enjoy my brain rot and stupid reacts 😘

-your lovely admin, ♥( ˆ⌣ ˆԅ)

#jwhbhaven blog updates🖤#blog update #life update #whb blog #whb #woooo lets go

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yourbestpalpercy · 19 days

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This was going to work…this HAD to work!

Commander Tartar was just an AI in a robotic body. Surely, it could be given a factory reset, right? Or at least, have its code changed?

⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️ had grabbed the strange android directly from the street because for some reason, he was wandering about late at night. ⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️ had no idea why Tartar was just…wandering about, especially since he was supposed to be dead, very dead, but oh well, ⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️ supposed! All that mattered was using her knowledge of machines to pacify or reset Tartar.

The code for Tartar was rigid and had a habit of refusing to change during the entire time ⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️ was working on them. Hm…it seemed Tartar was aware that someone was trying to change them. Must’ve picked up on it the second ⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️ plugged them in. Well…pacifying wasn’t working. Should ⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️ really do this?

Her hand hovered over the button as ⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️ gave Tartar another glance.

Finally, ⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️ sighed and pressed the button.

Judging by how Tartar’s body jerked suddenly and its crank began to spin, it could feel itself being deleted. ⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️ flinched back.

Words flashed on the computer screen besides ⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️.

Wait! Stop the reset!

Everest-

My daughter!

She’ll be distraught!

Everything I know.

Humanity’s messenger

GONE!

All the lights flickered as Tartar’s body jerked about and sputtered on the table ⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️ set him on. Purple strikes of lighting shot from the android, causing her to duck and cover her head. ⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️ curled up with her back to the ceiling to avoid the sparks. Sanitized ink poured from every seam on his body.

I wasn’t ready yet.

You’ll pay…!

YOU’LL PAY, ⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️!!!

You scraps of seafood will all pay if I remember myself!

I’ll make sure of it!

…Intimidation isn’t the right thing to do here…

Just treat Everest well.

Please.

The lights in the house popped and Tartar’s body went dead still. ⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️ carefully approached the android…

Just as the cable to the android exploded, giving ⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️ one final scare and causing her to cover her ears and flinching back..

The android was completely still, not moving even a gear. Not even when ⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️ spun their handle and stepped back.

“...Tartar?” ⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️ asked softly and reached her hand out to the android.

The android sputtered and opened its eyes slightly. “...System check. Antivirus on, stabilizers active,” An engine clouded with heat came from the androids back, expelling steam before it tucked back into its back, “Engine on. Sensors…?” The android’s eyes glowed blue and carefully scanned over ⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️’s body.

Admittedly, it sent quite the severe shudder down ⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️’s back. The android brought his hands back and straightened up as if scared that he had hurt her somehow.

“...What is your name?” The android slowly stood up, staring down at ⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️.

“I’m…I’m Marina,” Marina wasn’t super sure about telling the android her name but..this could be a test to see if Tartar had really been reset. The android leaned forward and stared at Marina too closely for comfort. For a moment, Marina could’ve swore she saw anger twist in their eyes.

“...Do I have a name, too…?” It asked suddenly, leaning back with curiosity shining in its eyes.

“...” Marina wasn’t completely sure how to respond to that. She wasn’t the best with names… “Uh…we’ll just call you Operator for now,” Marina nodded.

“Operator…” Operator brought a hand up to his face and felt one of the stickers on his cheek, “Hm..I suppose it’s quite the nice name,” A smile came to Operator’s face as he slowly pushed himself up and off the table.

Then after, they looked around the room, flying into a very sudden panic when they saw how dirty Marina’s workhouse was.

“AH! It’s like you’ve never touched a broom before!” Operator ran to try to find a broom or cleaning supplies of some kind. Marina grabbed Operator’s hand to try to stop him but he only paused to easily shake her off, albeit carefully. He then went back to look for cleaning supplies. The subsequent crashing that erupted in the room caused Marina to start worrying and trying to keep Operator from making too much noise.

It was all in vain of course as her half-asleep girlfriend opened the door as wide as it would go. She looked ungodly tired. Not something you would typically see from Pearl.

“Marina..! What’s going on here? Your other machines didn’t…” Pearl trailed off, seeing Operator (still dressed in their conductor’s outfit and looking exactly like Tartar did) frozen in their tracks with a broom in their metal hands and Marina stood nearby, staring at Pearl. Pearl seemed to wake up rather quickly after that and pulled out one of her dualies and aimed in between Operator’s eyes. Operator tilted their head and waved their hand near the shot, seeing the laser go from their head to their hand when they did, “Oooo…” Pearl’s expression became more worried as she readied to fire.

“Marina, why is the weird shuckass telephone that we definitely destroyed with 8 with the help of my killer wail is still alive…” Pearl didn’t hide the harsh feelings she had towards the android and her hate seeped clearly into her words. Operator didn’t even seem to notice, just tilting his head.

“Uh–..” Marina went to explain before Operator suddenly piped up, “Oh! I jumped ship. I knew I wasn’t going to survive! I…” Operator trailed off, gaining a concerned look on their face, “…that’s not right…” Operator brought a hand to their chin and turned away from Pearl to try to think. “Where did I get that knowledge…?” They stared in space for a moment with a concerned expression.

Operator looked up from the ground. The very second Operator focused back on the room, it flew back into a panic and repeated what it said before as it sped to clean up the workhouse. Pearl nearly shot Operator before Marina made her lower her splat gun. “Stop!” She said sternly and even gave Pearl a hug to make sure her words stuck. Operator stopped for a second before continuing to clean.

Pearl froze before expressing her concern to Marina, asking, no, demanding to know what Tartar was doing there.

“I-...I heard him wandering the streets, Pearlie. I figured he was dead too and thought I was hallucinating him. I’m just as stunned as you are…” Marina explained, “Regardless, I managed to get him knocked out and drug back here. …I gave him a full reset to his personality. Tartar no longer exists. This is Operator,” Marina held Pearl’s shoulders, turning towards Operator and gesturing towards the speeding animatronic.

Operator was still zipping around the room. It was a little stunning to see how fast he was cleaning. He didn’t stay still for even a second.

Within minutes, the entire room was spotless like it had just gotten a deep clean. Operator huffed and wiped their forehead as they leaned against their mop slightly, “Ah, phew..sorry, I hate dirty places!” Operator exclaimed and put the mop away, “Don’t know exactly why but it’s terrible! Always terrible,” Operator put emphasis on ‘Always’. “Now, who wants a smoothie?” Operator spun towards the two with their arms outstretched.

Pearl caught her breath and stared at Operator’s dumb smile. After a moment, she asked, still with a hint of ice in her voice, “...Do you even remember what you tried to do to the entirety of Inkopolis?”

Operator only blepped its strange tongue out of its mouth slightly. It brought a hand to its chin, “Uh…uhm….” Operator hummed and thought. It started messing with its lever, lightly spinning it. The lever always stopped facing up instead of down.

“Nooo? I don’t think I tried anything, no,” Operator tapped their hands together before suddenly continuing, cutting off Marina before she could speak, “Depends though! I also could’ve forgotten! What do you think I tried to do?” Operator asked, leaning closer to Pearl. Pearl stepped back, not hiding her fear whatsoever which confused Operator and worried them at the same time.

“Uh…nothing. Do you know anything about Commander Tartar?” Pearl now asked.

“Oh!” Operator perked up and clapped its hands excitedly, “Oh! I kn-know a few things! He’s not my favorite subject but I suppose I can say a few things about it! They-! Uh…he…” Operator trailed off again, a look of worry coming to its face. “Oh…I..can’t remember. I…suppose I don’t know actually…” Operator’s head went down and its entire top half went mostly limp. It seemed sad that it couldn’t answer Pearl’s question. Marina almost felt bad for Operator but, then again, maybe it not knowing anything about Tartar was beneficial, no way to remember its plans.

After a few moments of stillness, Operator perked back up, folding his hands, “How’s about we talk about something else? Maybe you guys could teach me about the sea life outside? I’ve always wanted to know!!” Operator bounced on his heels slightly, “Sea creatures are awesome!”

Pearl finally relaxed a little. If that didn’t prove that Operator was not Tartar then nothing would. Marina looked at Pearl’s unreadable expression before giving Operator a hand signal to mean ‘One moment’. Marina took Pearl out of the room.

“So- we can’t just let Operator out of the house, can we?” Pearl started suddenly, “There is no way anyone in Inkopolis is going to take this news well! People will definitely claim that we were pretending to have killed him so that- like- we could be praised as heroes. Okuto especially won’t take it well! In case you forgot, Tartar,” Pearl pointed at the closed door, “Nearly smoothied them and Cuttlefish!” Pearl exclaimed.

Marina looked back at the door, hearing Operator hum patiently inside the room. Who knew if he was listening to all of this, “...You’d be right about that but..perhaps if we’re careful about it, he can be accepted in this world. That’s what caused Tartar to go insane, wasn’t it? Isolation and a hatred for our kind? …If we teach Operator better, Tartar shouldn’t come back and Operator could even teach people about humans.”

“If they even remember those guys.”

“Correct,” Marina responded before slowly opening the door and seeing Operator, ready as ever to talk.

“Hi~!!” Operator excitedly waved.

“Hi. Uhm, Operator,” Marina trailed off before taking a breath, “Do you know about humans?”

Operator let out a huge, loud gasp and couldn’t stop itself from bouncing up and down, its crank spinning, “DO I!?” Operator suddenly shook Marina, causing Pearl to hit its hand off of her shoulder. Operator didn’t seem to care though as Operator began to sputter and gasp out its words, “Humans– well! They lived a good few YEARS a- a- ago! And- And- And!” Operator waved its hands near its face about a little before Marina stood up on her tiptoes and covered its mouth to calm it down some.

Operator giggled uncontrollably, “Sorry- sorry- sorry! Humans are m-my favorite subject!” Operator gently took Marina’s hand and pulled it away from his mouth, “They were truly remarkable! …And really dumb at the same time! It was startling and impressive they got so far actually.” Operator was much calmer now.

Pearl perked up suddenly and now dragged Marina out of the room. Operator looked just a little saddened about Marina being dragged away by her girlfriend. “I just thought of something! Maybe Tar- Operator can go back down to the metro. We’d have to speak to that annoying sea cucumber and catch him up on everything though. He can just introduce himself to people and THEN he can wander about!”

“I suppose so…we’ll have to tell Okuto though. They’ve been going back daily to collect any faded memories from when we had to help them. I’d assume they’d be shaken up to see an android that looks exactly like Tartar standing on the platform…” Marina noted.

***

Marina would be correct as, when the day arrived and the two snuck a very talkative Operator down into the metro (It literally would not stop talking even for a second about anything), Okuto wasn’t very thrilled to see the android. In fact, Okuto actually did shoot Operator unlike Pearl who had just threatened.

Shockingly, they did land those shots, coating Operator’s face in pink ink. Operator’s hands shot to his face to get the ink off of him. Needless to say, he was fairly panicked. Marina rushed forward to force Okuto to point their dualies away from Operator, “He’s not Tartar! I swear he’s not!” Okuto fought with Marina. They shoved Marina's face and tried to shoot at Operator some more. Pearl eventually joined in to grab Okuto’s other arm.

“Marina’s telling the truth, 8! Listen to her for just a moment!” Pearl forced Okuto’s arm to her side just as Marina did the same. Operator’s eyes were filled with fear and tears that resembled sanitized ink started to flood from their eyes. Finally Okuto went still, slightly grumbling under their breath. They glared at Operator with nothing short of pure hatred. Their eyes had fear in them as well.

Operator curled up, hands over its head as it claimed the same as Marina, adding that it didn’t even know why Okuto was calling it Tartar. Honestly, who knew that someone who used to be a genocidal maniac could look so…utterly pathetic. Operator sniffled and whimpered for a bit longer before Okuto finally calmed down enough for Marina and Pearl to let them go.

“So who are you then?” Okuto snapped at Operator, causing him to flinch and cover his head more. “I-It’s Operator…” Operator’s voice was filled with tears. Speaking of, the tears started to create a small puddle around him.

The fear in Okuto’s eyes was still present and they still had one of their dualies aimed at Operator just in case. Operator sniffled and slowly got up. “S…sorry…sorry…” Okuto’s glare wouldn’t lighten up even after Marina and Pearl proved multiple times that Operator wasn’t Tartar pretending to be good.

Operator looked down at the puddle he had created and frowned more. When they moved forward, Okuto grew tense and was ready to fire at Operator once more. He stepped back quickly with his hands near his face, ready to block, “I-I just need a mop a-and bucket! The janitor’s closet is…is right behind you…” Operator pointed at the door behind all three of them. Okuto looked over and only murmured an ‘Oh’ and let Operator pass by.

The rest of that visit was spent getting Okuto used to Operator’s new presence and explaining things. It was also spent getting CQ calmed down from the sudden appearance of his undead boss and appointing him the boss of Operator.

(Ooooh my god, this ending is so rushed ;-;. I am very sorry, I just deeply needed to get this story out before school ended for me in just a week and a half and I have to give the chromebook (what I use to write these stories) back. Btw, Okuto is the name I have chosen for my Agent 8 if anyone was wondering. Originally, I wanted it to be a pun on the word Aimless because I cannot aim at all but I decided against it because Aimlis was way too on the nose along with Amylis)

#commander tartar #oc writing #tartar splatoon #splatoon tartar #splatoon au #splatoon oc #splatoon 8 #marina splatoon #pearl splatoon

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give-soup-please · 2 years

Note

Could I get head cannons about the narrator and a reader who is a computer in one of the offices- Ok I know that sounds weird, it's based on a dream I had. Like maybe the Stanley found a little easter egg where it's nighttime and he finds a sentient computer in an office who is a bit unaware of their surroundings. And Computer reader is just like "Oh hey Stanley how was your day?" And when Stanley gets the easter egg the narrator is locked out so he can't say anything or see anything that happens. So, the narrator gets the Easter egg himself without Stanley around, and when he meets reader their just like. "Oh hey Stanley, back again I see-"

"I'm not Stanley."

"Oh....who are then?"

And a little friendship develops from there, maybe the narrator keep them in his office to look after them, or maybe even tries to give them a more moveable body/vessel idk IT'S REALLY WEIRD I'LL BE ON MY WAY OUT BYEE-

(ALSO! Happy birthday mate :3 and just saying I was the person asking about the flustered reader by the narrator's voice and the overworked reader so yeah....BYE)

(I’m bending the prompt a little. Hope that’s alright)

Narrator with Reader Who is a Computer in the Office

Stanley backs out of the boss’s office at the last second, trapping the narrator and cutting him off. He’s done this ending before, hundreds of times, but there’s always a hope it will be different.

He will enter the escape pod before it gets dark and the game resets. Surely, he will be able to do it this time.

He strolls through the empty office, and is almost at the door that will lead him where he wants to go, when he spots your computer.

He knew all variations of what would appear on those screens. Inputs that will take him to button heaven, “the end is never the end” repeated infinitely, desktop screens, and all of the others. This one is different.

It’s got a green blinking indicator just like the monitor that gives him orders, but instead of giving commands, it reads: “Hello?”

Cautiously, he sits down at the desk. He starts typing, then stops. What if this is another trick by the narrator, like his wife who turned out to be a mannequin?

Whatever’s on the other side of that screen notices that Stanley is typing, and puts out another message. “Is someone there?”

Stanley looks around, double checking that the narrator is nowhere to be found, despite the fact that he can’t see the narrator anyway.

The two of you start messaging back and forth. Stanley loses track of time, because it’s been so long since he’s found something new.

Every time he does the escape pod ending, you’re there waiting for him. The two of you develop quite the friendship over time.

You always ask after his health, he always chats about how he’s doing. He asks who you are, but you don’t really have any clear answers for him.

You don’t seem to understand that you exist in an office. The only thing you can see besides the darkness is the wall of text that you two create together.

Maybe you’re just as lonely as he is.

After he’s done talking to you, he attempts to make it to the escape pod. It always slips through his fingers. At least he’s made a new friend in you, so it’s not a complete loss.

The two of you keep this up for a very long time, until one day… he just stops visiting. Memories of the conversations you two had seem distant.

It turns out that when the player unplugged the phone, and the narrator booted the player out of Stanley, the game broke. He stops moving, unable to make a choice. The narrator begs him to move, and Stanley can’t.

The narrator loses track of how much time he spends, waiting for something to change. It eventually begins to dawn on him that Stanley really won’t come back. Not in the way the narrator wants him to, anyway.

The narrator wanders through the office, feeling listless and out of control. While in his despair, he finds you.

Your message is blinking up cheerily at him. “Hello Stanley, how are you doing today?”

The narrator stares for several seconds. He built this office from the ground up. Every piece of furniture, every picture, every pile of papers, all adding to his narrative and the overall atmosphere of his story. He knows this office very well, and you aren’t meant to be here. Who the heck are you?

The narrator starts typing, wondering if he’s doing the right thing. He writes out, ‘I’m not Stanley.’, hits enter, and waits to see what will happen next.

‘Who are you, then?’ The narrator works out the best way to respond. ‘I’m a storyteller. I was telling Stanley’s story, but…’ He stops there, emotions still too close to the surface to tell a stranger about the tragedy that was going on in his personal life.

The narrator takes a longer time to develop a friendship with you, having been so recently burned by Stanley leaving. But he’s lonely, and you’re there, and he can’t stop himself from coming back to you.

Eventually, you get moved into a room that the narrator rests in when he’s not narrating. It’s easier to talk to you that way, and he doesn’t have to look at the office, which is too cluttered with old memories.

The two of you talk about everything except for Stanley. You learn not to press on that particular bruise the narrator is nursing. You become the narrator’s anchor, because he has someone to talk to, someone who will pay attention to his words. He still prefers speaking over typing though, and begins to hatch an idea.

‘Reader’, he types one day. ‘Would you like to have a body, so we can talk to each other properly?’ The indicator blinks for several moments, as you work through your reply.

‘I think that would be nice.’ You write. ‘But…’ The narrator begins to get nervous. He’s so close to having someone in his life again. What could your hesitation be?

‘Will it hurt?’ Ah. The narrator is again stumped on how to answer this. He eventually settles on ‘I don’t think so. I’ll do everything I can to make your transition as seamless as possible. However, I may need to put you to sleep for a bit so I can transfer your consciousness over to a new form. Is that okay?’

Under other circumstances, he may not ask for permission, but he’s grown so attached to you that the thought of hurting you is excruciating to him. You give your permission gladly.

The day arrives. He’s built a body especially for you, custom to your requests. The last message he sees before you’re shut off is, ‘It’s been a lot of fun having these conversations, narrator. You speak so well. I hope your voice is as nice as your words. I hope I get to see you soon.’ He stares at the blank screen for several moments before getting to work.

He’s never worked so hard in his life. Building a model from scratch is difficult. It took him a while to develop someone as bland as Stanley, and your personality is strong in comparison. He sculpts, he molds, and when things are difficult, he daydreams about the life you’ll be able to share together once your body is complete.

He begins to download your consciousness into your new form, which is a lot more difficult than he thought. He has to capture every single piece of you, even the subtle things that give you ‘flavor’ for lack of a better word. It’s exhausting work, but you’re worth it.

You come back from the edge of the void slowly. Your eyes crack open, and the narrator begins to laugh with delight.

It takes a while for you to learn the mechanics of your new body, but the narrator is with you every step of the way.

(sorry this one took so long anon, the concept kind of got away from me and woah i think this is the longest one i've done so far.)

#the stanley parable #tsp narrator #headcanon #answered ask #stanley parable #narrator #tsp narrator x reader #tsp

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rosiewritesstuff · 2 years

Text

No Name

Part 4/4

Gladiolus X Fem!Kingsglaive!Reader

DESCRIPTION: You are a tired Glaive with a thin patience for dating, noise, and crowded spaces-- After just getting your heart broken once again, you decide to sail alone in the sea of singleness. However, when being caught filtering in and out of a high security area where you do not belong, you find yourself in a pickle that is too hard to explain… and the problem itself has pretty amber eyes and rippling pectorals.

Warning: story does contain swearing. Read at your own risk.

Story based on Anon Request! See Part 1 for full details!

Thank you so much everyone for your continued patience with me and the continued love I get on this page! Life has been using me as a punching bag, and unfortunately it's only the beginning!

I am overjoyed and beyond thankful for the support. Seeing comments and likes towards my work throughout the day breathes life into my very heavy lungs. I appreciate all of you! I am still writing some pretty fun stories, so stay tuned! I am accepting requests, so if there is something you want to see, hit me up!

Anywho— here is the last and final piece of this story. It was a pleasure to write. I personally love the idea that Gladio's love interest is just as snippy as he can be on occasion. The testing of power. I totally think that Gladio would be smitten for a woman who tries his patience and isn't afraid to speak her mind. I think he'd gain something from not being treated like a celebrity!

I hope I did Gladio and Anon's request justice! Enjoy! -Rosie

Missed Something? Here are Parts 2 & 3

"Ignis, I need your help. Do you have a second?" Gladio stated, leaning against the Advisor's open office door. Ignis glanced up from the heap of paper work littered against his desk and open computer to throw a look of question at the Royal Shield.

It had been about two weeks since your last run in with Gladio, and the man had been waiting on you ever since. He found himself showing up at the training room during ungodly hours of the day, just to see you. And since you suddenly, without any warning signs, disappeared— he had begun to worry. Did you stumble across the wrong person while in the Royal Training Room? Did you end up getting hurt even despite your incredible fighting skills? He didn't show it on the exterior, but he felt anxiety spike whenever your face wasn't spitefully looking up at him.

The Royal Advisor flickered his gaze back to the covered desk, before shifting it to the shield once more. "I suppose I have a moment," Ignis' lilt heightened as he slouched back into his office chair. The shield huffed a breath of relief. "What is it that you need assistance with?"

"I need help finding someone," Gladio slid into the room, closing the door behind himself.

"You need my assistance with a mundane task such as that? Use the government website—"

"I would, but I forgot my password. Again," Gladio tried to mask the slight embarrassment he felt by crossing his thick biceps against his chest. "I attempted too many times and I am locked out. I have to go to the IT department to get everything reset. Look— that is beside the point. I need to find someone and you are the guy that I find most reliable."

Ignis tilted his head, fingers now intertwining within each other— he held them in front of his face. "Did they cause a problem? Does this need the attention of the authorities?" He sat up, eyeing the situation closer.

"No, I have been training with this individual and they have neglected to show up the past few times. She is a glaive. I wanted to see if she had been deployed and never told me." Gladio approached the desk Ignis sat behind— He leaned forward, palms resting flat on the desk on either side of the Advisor's laptop.

"She?" Ignis questioned, slouching back into the chair again, faint smirk painted onto his lips. "Is this one of your paramours?"

Gladio rolled his eyes, before focusing them back to Ignis. "Careful with your tone, Iggy. Your jealousy is showing."

"Hardly the case. Just shocked is all." Ignis sighed before reaching to type on the computer. He pulled up the website and went to the plug in that displayed the entire employee database. "What is her name?" Ignis asked, eyes not looking up from the glowing screen. Gladio swallowed thickly, big hand finding the back of his neck to scratch the base of his scalp.

"I don't know."

"You don't know her name?" Ignis' tone took on a slight mocking one, his sharp manicured eyebrows knotting with confusion. "Did you not ask her?"

"I have tried. She just… won't give it to me." It was true, he has asked. And if Ignis knew just how many times he had asked— He would have been floored. At least Gladio felt that way. In some sense, he supposed it made sense. You were skeptical of his intentions, figuring he was there to get you in trouble rather than let you slip by fully unscathed. It had been months of this however, and he figured you would pick up his jig at one point or another… He didn't expect you to just— stop showing up.

"Gladio, I figure I shouldn't have to break the news to you. Merely because it is you who has luck with the women.. But if she isn't giving you her name then she isn't interested in your advances." The smirk seemed to grow larger on Ignis' usual stoic face, green eyes firing with a playful and mocking glint.

"Sounds like you heard that a lot." Gladio quirked a challenging eyebrow back— spiteful gaze matching to the caliber of Ignis'. "Plus, it isn't like that. It is a complicated story. I just need to see if she's on the deployed list. That's all."

Ignis bowed his head at the slide as if to accept it and he looked back up. "I don't have access to that documentation."

"You don't? I thought we had access to those lists—"

"No, unless it directly effects the Prince and his whereabouts, we do not have access." Ignis relented while slouching back into his seat. "We would need a higher access to view all of that. If anything, you would need to discuss this with Noctis. He has the capabilities to see everything."

"So, I have to ask Noct."

"Essentially, yes." Ignis was ready to close the window on the computer before Gladio pressed forward. This was a problem.

He sighed with defeat, head falling limp. "I can't go to Noctis. You know that." He pushed himself off of Ignis' desk and rested his hands on his hips; Amber gaze now searching the room for any hidden answers. Gladio knew that Noctis would never let the big guy live it down for being "stood up" or "rejected" Even though that wasn't the case. "Don't you have all of Noctis' login information?" Gladiolus was no stranger to Noctis and his habits. It was known and a constant pressure point between the small knitted group, that Ignis did most of Noctis' work for him. Ignis occasionally played the role of Prince when the actual Prince struggled to do so. Of course when the time called for it. Having Noctis' login information only made sense… For two reasons.

So Ignis can check up on Noctis to make sure he is completing tasks that require his attention.

Noctis has more of a tendency to forget passwords and all of that information. One of them had to brandish responsibility and it might as well be the highly trained, dutiful Advisor.

Ignis once again cocked his head in confusion, now sitting up again in his chair. "Are you asking me to infiltrate the Prince's government profile so you can locate a woman who shows little to no interest in you— all in leu of protecting your pride?" Damn Ignis never did pull any punches.

"Yes. That is exactly what I am asking." The confidence was unyielding, and Gladio stood taller now.

"Very well." Ignis sat up and typed at the computer for a small length of time before slowly turning it to face the Shield. "Here is the list," Ignis deadpanned, elbows digging into the desktop. "Says they are touring the western most Cleigne border. In search for any notions of any enemy military upheaval. Appears they will be returning soon."

The Shield hunched over the laptop and scrolled downward using the mouse pad. He skimmed the pictures, searching for your most prominent features. He skimmed until he neared the bottom and saw your face. He could recognize that smile from anywhere, even though you only gave him such a look a couple of times. He swore he wouldn't forget it. His stomach tensed, eyes slowly moved from your face, to the name in boldface, starting with your last, comma, your first name. He grinned, "Gotcha," His voice fell hushed onto the desk in front of him while studying your name closely.

He felt like he won some sort of unsung battle— like you were a boss that had shown no weakness, but with ample research and many helpful individuals he unlocked your secret. He had finally, at long last, knew your name. Countless battles lead him here and he was satisfied.

"Let me see her," Ignis pried, eyes stretching to the computer. Gladio flipped it around again as if he were showing you off. "Pretty thing she is," He hummed, with a nod of approval.

"She is, and is quite a spit fire to go along with all that hot stuff. Do you have a piece of paper and a pen I can borrow?"

Ignis dug around for a moment, shuffling of papers and clanking of writing utensils seemed to fall on deaf ears— Gladio's intense amber eyes only focused onto you and your name. He mouthed it, repeating it with a whisper as if it were a secret that only he could know. Ignis slid a sticky note and a pen towards Gladio's palm that was pressed onto the desk once more.

"May I ask what you are writing down?"

"Just the information I need, don't you worry about it." It took no time at all for Gladio to scrawl your name and a few other bits of information about you, down on a bright yellow sticky note. He looked at his penmanship, your name written in a sloppy, all capital, print. He knew that only his eyes could read such a mess of words and lines. He smiled at the information, your name falling from his lips once more before standing straight. He peeled the note off of the pad and smiled at it. "Thanks Specs. I owe ya." The sticky end of the note stuck to his fingertips and he fluttered it as he turned to leave.

"I wish you luck, Gladiolus," Ignis slid the pad and pen back into their proper locations, catching the Shield's confident grin as he turned to shut the door.

"Thanks, Iggy."

You were exhausted. In fact, you felt that the word did little justice for the way you felt. Your eyes were heavy, their lids trying to droop shut— if it weren't for the sweltering van you were crammed into, you would have easily drifted into slumber.

You were on a routine surveillance mission that happened every so often. A group of glaives, selected by the Marshal and the General, were sent to scout different areas of Lucis— all in search for any suspicious movement of the Niflheim military. This was always randomized, and you almost figured it would be you. It had been a few months since you were sent out, and it was only a matter of time before you were called again to do your time. Many people called these trips, deployments— that was the more official term. You were deployed. And damn was it the worst.

There was nothing more damning then riding across the country, crammed into a small, poorly ventilated van; stuffed like sardines with 10 other glaives. Nothing drove you more crazy then crashing into your seat neighbors every time the driver hit a bump or pot hole. You swore at one point, the driver was doing it on purpose. That or the glaive next to you sensed your frustration and craved to piss you off further.

You were almost home, now trailing through the outskirts of Hammerhead; The last outpost until you reached the limits of Insomnia. From the gate, you calculated, you would be home in 40 minutes. You checked the clock on your phone and sighed heavily. 4:15. Your head hit the back of the seat, causing the glaive next to you glance down at you. You paid his strange stare no mind as you began to mentally wallow in your own misfortune.

It would take you two hours at the earliest to get back to the Citadel. You didn't even bother to factor in rush hour traffic. Your exhaustion seemed to overtake your frustration and you swore you would cry if it wasn't for the several witnesses crammed around you, trying to ignore each other.

Around a quarter after 8, you were finally shuffling out of the Citadel with your personal effects tugged over your shoulder. You decided, halfway home while crossing a busy street— Cooking was absolutely not an option for the evening. Your limbs wanted rest, your body wishing to finally crash onto your couch and watch the TV show you had been neglecting. Nothing can sedate your exhaustion and hunger like a bite of fast food. You took a long way home and stopped of at a fast food joint that you frequented.

With your bag of food in one hand, your personal effects slung over the other arm— you shuffled for your keys that seemed to find the deepest depths of your pants pocket. You turned the corner abruptly, finally pulling the keys from your pocket. It almost felt like they grew hands and were tugging on the hem in a fight to stay warm and secure. Your exhausted mind seemed to find that image hilarious, and you stifled your amusement with a sigh and a gentle shake of your head. You gazed down the hall towards your final destination, at long last— wait… what was that?

There on the doorstep was a vase, jutting out was a small assortment of flowers. "Huh?" You shook your head trying to clean your mind. You were looking at the wrong doorstep, you almost laughed. Who the hell would leave you flowers. You smiled at yourself as you moved to the door your apartment stood behind. You stopped at the welcome mat, your jaw going slack when you found that glass vase and flowers sitting at your feet.

Blinking, you checked the worn numbers on your apartment door. Yeah, that was your apartment. Eyebrows knotting together, you dumped your duffle bag onto the floor to your side and knelt in front of the vase. There was a note tied with a ribbon around the dip within the wall of the vase. With a gentle hand you pried the folded note open with your thumb. The note was written in a neat print, the author wrote in all capital letters which was a unique feature. You hadn't seen many people write like that.

Like a forensic scientist, you began to narrow out your options— who owned penmanship like that? Flittering through the Rolex within your mind, you began to make comparisons to everyone you knew. They had to meet three points of criteria:

They needed to know your address.

Legible handwriting.

Had a reason to buy you flowers.

Well, it couldn't have been anyone in the glaive, none of them had your address on hand. And it couldn't have been the date who stood you up almost a month ago— he didn't have that information either. Prompto? No— He had some half cursive half print handwriting that could hardly be understood. You have harped on him for writing in what you deemed to be the Prompto Language. He was never amused by your slide.

If it wasn't any of them… then who the hell..? You opted to forego the guessing game and decided to read what it said. Second way to know who made this mistake. You blinked a few times before starting at the left hand side of the folded note. It read:

"Glad to see your name wasn't in the paper. The Royal Training Room misses their delinquent. Hope to see you soon,—"

Your eyes stopped suddenly on the gentle way your name was written at the end of the final sentence. "Gladio?" You whispered, eyes intently reading the note for any missing clues. You looked at the vase of flowers, and began to shuffle them around for a listening device or something off the wall. "Flowers?" They were just… flowers? Heat struck your cheeks and carefully you unlocked your door and hoisted the vase up to your chest— duffle bag long forgotten in the hallway.

You turned on all the lights leading to the kitchen and rested your food on the table— it too, long forgotten. The bouquet of flowers looked lovely on your kitchen counter. He had picked a variety, but selected ones that seemed to compliment each other— in color as well as shape. Your eyes flickered back to the note clenched tightly in between your fingers.

You read it again, and again, and again; until your eyes began to spin. You tried to swallow, but your throat was entirely too dry. When the sudden shock seemed to subside, a warm smile graced your face. It sparked warmth that climbed your chest and began to ease your limbs and turn them to jelly. The urge to laugh cascaded over you, and with a bright smile, and completely smitten, you nearly floated to the hallway to get your long forgotten belongings.

Gladiolus Amicitia sent you flowers. That sentence didn't make a lick of sense, but everything else did. Your mind was swirling, and the only bit of information you could keep down was the echoing voice of Prompto: He has his reasons. My guess is… he probably enjoys your company.

The next morning, you found yourself nearly rushing to the kitchen hoping that the random gift wasn't a figment of your imagination— or some cruel dream that the gods had teased you with. But the arrangement stood proudly on your counter, note still dangling gently from the ribbon it was fastened to. Your smile widened further and quickly you gathered yourself together for another risky trip to the forbidden training room, despite it being your day off.

You stood taller, at least that's how you felt. At long last, you were smiled upon— your ugly streak of horrible relationships seemed to be behind you now; disappearing in the rearview mirror. You were confident, and flattered; floating on cloud nine as you rounded the corner to the familiar doors of the Royal Training room. With a practiced, swift maneuver, you tapped the key onto the metal receiver. You were rewarded with a satisfying click, signifying your allowance into the locked room. The metal handle of the door snapped as you shoved it open.

You were greeted with Gladio, perched on the bench with his red covered book in his hands. He looked up, amber eyes softening on your smile. "Let me guess," your smile widened as you spoke, watching as his full attention was now on you; Book long forgotten within his lap. "You tapped the flowers?"

He smiled at you while sliding the book into the side pocket in his bag. "Should I have?" He questioned, his eyebrow finding its way up his forehead in the usual way it would.

You couldn't fight the smile on your face. You felt like a love sick goofball. You shook your head, "Unless you want to hear about all of the other Training rooms I plan on infiltrating, then sure." He stood to his full height, grabbing his bag off of the floor.

"I knew I should have asked for some listening devices." He playfully jabbed. "What are you doing after training today?" He questioned, slinging his bag over his shoulder. A smirk lifted to your face as you looked out at the nearly vacant room.

Your eyes moved back to meet his. They held your gaze gently, softly, you felt the magma begin its high pressured course through your veins. Heat collected to your cheeks and spread quickly to your ears. Swallowing thickly you blinked and looked at the floor. "As far as I know, all I have planned is kicking the Royal Shield's ass."

His grin grew and he laughed, "Well after you kick the Royal Shield's ass, care to join him for dinner?"

You swore the world stopped for a moment— for longer then a moment. And there you sat in an empty room with no meaning, forgetting who you are, forgetting who he is— Your heart nearly hammering out of your chest.

"I would love to," You nearly whispered, the words getting lost in the thickness of your throat.

He tilted his head, eyes still holding yours. "Then it's a date," He spoke just as confidently as ever, his signature smile holding to his soft lips.

"Better not be a set up Mr. Amicitia. I will be livid," you hummed, trying to fight the giddy urge to dance around the room. You spent the energy walking to the locker room to change.

"I would never--" His sentence trailed off, but you caught the faint sound of your name slipping from his lips. the way the timbre of his voice seemed to extenuate the syllables of your name caused your legs to go weak; Heat like never before flooded your face, your body, your mind. You were clouded fully with giddy anticipation. And as you lost your casual clothes, and slipped into your work out outfit; you wondered why the hell you kept your name away from him.

You came to the conclusion that it was all part of the fun.

#ffxv #final fantasy 15 #final fantasy xv #gladiolus amiticia #gladio ffxv #gladiolus x reader #gladio x reader #reader insert #sassy reader #giddy reader #rosie writes

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dastardlydandelion · 3 months

Text

a 2024 update

i keep circling back to the idea of deleting my tumblr. i’m not as active as I once was, my schedule changed (and workload intensified) in the time i began this blog to where i am now. the AI is really freaking me out but that’s not just a tumblr problem, (it’s everywhere 😱) so much less of a factor in my contemplation because i know i can't avoid it.

i’m also not the same as i was three years ago and euuugh, some of my early stuff makes me cringe so hard i want to delete just to distance myself from it!!! but like, evolution and change are just natural in the process of existing as a human being. in another three years, i’ll be even more different (albeit my pre-frontal cortex will remain fully developed so the changes will potentially be less pronounced). soo what am i gonna do, reset every three years like a robot getting a new computer chip??

this is going to get longer than i expected, so explanation continues under the cut:

nah. i may not be as active as i used to be and my opinions/interests may have shifted/evolved, but still, so many of my friends are here and there’s all this cool art, and gifsets, and what have you.

since this was and remains mainly a fandom blog, i’ll briefly summarize my major attitude shifts regarding fandom:

on the yellowjackets front, a significant decrease in hostility toward one travis martinez. like…okay I still don’t love that ben sent travis out alone hunting with nat after he pointed a gun! at her fucking face! and I still don’t love the portion of fandumb that straight up ignores that travis pointed a gun at natalie’s face, and yes it was kind of frustrating that the male characters in general got so much screen time in a show that’s supposed to be about female characters but like. none of that is travis the character’s fault— actually ykw, that’s one of my problems generally that i noticed, that i want to grow from— i keep letting fandumb (and content burnout) influence my perception of and response to characters/plot lines/ships rather than organically formulating my interpretations separate from that influence. i mean fandumb generally, not just YJ. blah blah blah, anyway, i apologize, travis martinez. you had to eat your baby brother. you sank your teeth into his freshly carved out raw heart. i want to both examine you from a more organic angle going forward and hug you now.

okay, okay, i was gonna break down my notable shifts in opinion by fandom, but going off of the aforementioned pattern that i have, maybe i should...no, no, let's keep going by fandom, i have that problem in *every* fandom, so.

ST! I FINALLY WATCHED IT. holy cannoli, okay, @lucdarling and @foxgirlontherun are buds that i remember telling for sure, but i know for sure i didn't tell all of my ST pals so i'll touch on that. watched it over the holidays with my grandma, who had been trying to get me to watch for some time and i finally caved.

1.) we get more glimpses of the demogorgon in the first season than i ever gave it credit for. myself of...however many years ago was just too damn impatient waiting to see the whole damn monster. we get a claw here, a growl there, a moving shadow, etc. its introduction was actually well done, so. years-ago me, you were WRONG. WRONG, I TELL YOU, WRONG.

2.) eleven does not have pyrokinesis. i knew she was telepathic (to a degree) and telekinetic, but for some reason, in the past i *also* believed she could set things on fire with her mind. i just thought she used that power less because fire is so destructive. well...now i know she doesn't have pyrokinesis at all!

3.) the byers do NOT live in a trailer. this i did actually learn before watching the show, i learned in 2022 when a bud sent me like, a pic of their lego byers house and i was like, oh. neat. that's not a trailer. 🙃 so that i did become aware before watching, but seeing it onscreen reminded me that i knew.

4.) billy has more canon depth than i had given him credit for, previously having just watched scenes for fic-reference out of context. i apologize, billiam (i don't attribute a shred of that depth to the duffballs, but that's a different rant). i think since i entered the fandom side of things long before watching, i got certain portions of fanon and canon confused. also-- much like with travis and some other examples i'm going to get into-- i let too much fandumb influence my response to him + impression of his role in canon.

5.) steve is nowhere nearly as irritating in canon as i thought he was. the things that i find irritating about steve are-- once again, see above examples --not really anything that has to do with the character himself! i'm sorry, steve!

on that note, sorry hairygrove friends!! i love you guys and it's been a gift getting to know each of you over the last few years, but i was pretty damn mean to steve sometimes! i should've been nicer to steve...and maybe bill, for that matter, but i mean, i'd written so much from his POV i think it goes without saying that i've always had affection for the latter, even if i probably should've given him more credit for canon characterization and been less presumptuous.

obviously having seen the show, i have more developed thoughts on ST overall, but i think those are just...the main differentiations between opinions formulated in the early days of this blog versus where i'm at now. friends of mine who watch ST, if you want to talk about it, i'm happy to! but please DM me personally and don't send asks about it. i don't want to answer asks because those get posted on the main blog. on the main blog the algorithm reads what's posted and sends you suggestions accordingly.

certain parts of ST S4VOL2 make me *extremely* uncomfortable. i scroll past gifs, art, edits, etc, of those parts on occasion already since i have so many ST friends and the algorithm suggests related content. and it's fine...but i don't want to give the algorithm more reasons to show me even more things that make me uncomfortable, you know what i mean?

guess that's it for ST.

so let's revisit the scream franchise!

might as well go ahead and get the biggest change out of the way: i no longer hate dewey riley!

good lord, for years i was just the stabbiest damn crab at that character. 🦀🔪 opinion officially evolved, evolved BIG time. i was once so irritated with dewey i straight up celebrated when he got killed off . the glee at his demise pushed the ghostface that killed him right up to the top of my ranking.

BOOOOOOOOO. BOOOOOOOOO ME.

...okay. i. i'm sorry, dewey.

once again, here goes me with this pattern that i need to stop. me raising up my hackles at fandumb and components of the character that are not *the* character. i don't like the hero cop trope. i don't. the copaganda of it all...but. a character's mere status of falling into a category of trope or cliche shouldn't discourage thorough examination of them, their personalities, role in the story, or other traits. that's a very small way to interact with fiction, isn't it? i've since moved on from that knee-jerk dismissal.

i also was also a huge flipping grinch when it came to romance for a long ass time (will touch on this later) and so much of dewey's story is about the romance between him and gale. which is...actually a pretty solid romantic storyline, i realize after multiple earnest re-watches of the franchises. dewey has a solid arc! gale has a solid arc! their romance has a solid arc! should not have complained about this nearly as much as i did. maybe it's because of the chemistry between the performers, but all their banter throughout the movies that i once rolled my eyes at...it...it works! okay, it works, they made it work.

i no longer rejoice that dewey is killed off (albeit the scene itself is still pretty freaking cool). amber definitely *isn't* my ghostfave. she's NOT at the bottom of my list but NOT at the top. actually-- wait, no, that can wait, i'm not done with dewey yet...or am i, do i have anything else to say about dewey?

okay, he's not my favorite character, but. he's a classic and he's lovable and i won't fight it anymore because of petty irritations or my personal issues with a trope that in no way makes up the whole of his character.

since we're on scream, whoa, GHOSTFACE RANKING HAS EVOLVED 11/10!

yes, oh, that is so much different than where it was when i started this blog! also very different after recency bias + initial script + the dewey kill scene undeservedly shot amber to the top of my ranking in early 2022.

i'm not going to detail my ranking in this post. that could easily be its own post with its own thorough dissections of which ghostface takes which slot and why. but i will bring up another scream character whose opinion of mine has greatly changed over time: richie kirsch.

i was so irritated by this guy before. couldn't stand him! and you guessed it, for the wrong reasons! i was put off by a lot of the outpouring of the horny focus on him in fandom. not shaming anybody for their preferences by the way! look, i have my own villain crushes (see beth, who is at the top of my ranking again although we'll save the details for another day). it's just...it was kind of frustrating back then to want to gush about the carpenter sisters and mostly find myself surrounded by risque white male centered content instead. i hope that's understandable. so i got burned out on richie content and dismissed the whole character. i was also VERY put off by radio silence's interpretation of their ghostface duo in 2022 but that's a different conversation and again, not richie the character's fault.

richie is funny! okay, he's funny, yes, the "boner pills" line is still irritating, but now...now when i re-watch 5cream i can appreciate him more and the humor of richie *mostly* lands for me! i also think scream VI made me appreciate richie more, because his family is so underdeveloped and wayne's actor made...choices with that performance. but again, that's something i would get into more if i were to detail the evolution of my ghostface ranking.

i think that's it for the major changes in my scream feelings...what other fandoms...

okay, cobra kai? how have my opinions evolved there?

ykw, that one might be mostly the same. the show got worse. it got so bad. it's so bad now, it just bums me out. the one thing i truly wanted from that show was for tory nichols to get the screentime she deserved and for the show to deliver on her hidden depths alluded to the first three seasons. my wish was granted in sheer monkey paw fashion, because they finally did that and pretty much the rest of the show went to shit, go figure. 💩

um...hmm...SHIPPING.

oh, okay, shipping. yeah, let's talk about that. not fandom specific, just um. okay, at the time i started this blog i was never what the kids call 'antis' in that i have some moral beef with fan content of fictional characters falling in love or doing sex things. no, no, that's pretty silly. BUT what i was, was a huge grinch!!! just the mention of romance made me scrunch my face. wouldn't read/write/engage with any shippy things beyond some extremely particular F/F content.

as someone who prefers F/F because it's what i relate to, i know at some point i was just burned out on everything fandom being so heavily M/M focused and everything canon being so heavily F/M focused. i also have feelings about the way M/F is portrayed in canon media due to misogynistic tropes and storylines. but even where F/F was concerned, i was so picky. picky as a damn porcupine.

i believe a combination of things has finally let me to loosen up when it comes to shipping and romance in general.

1.) limiting my engagement with it, allowing me to recover from the burnout.

2.) getting over personal romantic issues IRL that tainted my engagement in fictional romance.

3.) YELLOWJACKETS. i have many complaints with s2 but nevertheless, YJ has given us so many complex, rich female characters with interesting dynamics. and the exploration of those dynamics is abundant, varied, and so thoughtfully explored in YJ fandom that i am hooked! i feel more invested in expanding my F/F pool and i feel less overrun by the greater amount of M/M and M/F content because these fascinating characters and the earnest effort fandom puts into depicting multilayered relationships between them just...evens the playing field, i guess, if we're gonna make a soccer pun. ⚽️

4.) watching romances + romantic subplots with women behind the camera. turns out, the less misogyny involved, the more genuinely i can enjoy an M/F ship. go figure, huh.

anyway, i'm not such a stab crab about romance anymore. i know i have many fandom friends who *are* interested in shipping and i apologize if i was ever cramping your style or bringing you down when i would express my disgruntlement. i hope you can forgive me, i promise to be less of a grinch now. 💚

🦀🔪 fandom opinions that have not changed:

1.) THE BLACK PHONE. waited a year, paid $30 to watch ethan hawke put plates on the floor for an hour! NO! i want a refund!!! WASTED POTENTIAL. GONNA HOLD THIS GRUDGE FOREVER.

2.) the CAOS finale was absolutely disgusting! it was never a great show, sarah rees brennan who wrote the tie-in novels should've been in charge of the screenplay, imo. the novels did so much, so much better, but i digress...mediocre show or not, that fourth season took bad to a whole new level. 🤢

3.) ALEX SAXON CANNOT ACT. i appreciate nancy drew (2019) presenting to me F/M ships (namely fanson) i could actually get into because of the way the dynamics were written but the nace obsessions baffles me when the acting in MTV scream was oscar-worthy compared to this man's sheer lack of ability to emote.

...unless....unless the editors of the show hated alex saxon and only used edits they knew were bad in the finalized episodes in order to sabotage his career going forward. but i have no proof, it's just a possible conspiracy theory. 🤔

non-fandom relevant blog thoughts:

i love interacting with my friends, building connections, and admiring the creativity people put out into the world in various forms. i want to be more focused on that, online and offline, than negativity. i also don't want my apprehension surrounding AI to prevent me from engaging with the digital world and the wonderful human people i've gotten to know through it.

i want to think about nature more than the things that make me so angry, so beyond my control. i want to share animal facts and pictures of forests and funnily shaped rocks. i want to spend more time making people laugh than spiraling into personal insecurities...i don't think my blog was ever a *particularly* negative place, but oh boy, i could certainly be a crab with TWO knives...

there's plenty to be afraid of and be angry about with the expansion of AI and its grip on the digital world. i guess the whole purpose of this post was just to express 'these are the things that have changed and my priorities have also changed.' with that, i really want to focus more on creative things, fun things, funny things, and share more joy than anything else.

there's only so much time. i want to spend the bulk of it cherishing the connections we make, more than anything else.

#personal #blogging #fandom #media #AI #the shift from early 20s to late 20s is so real #i am making peace with the goals i've failed to accomplish and that acceptance has helped me mellow out A LOT #edit: setting new goals has also helped a lot #accpetance of past failures is not giving up on future achievments

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0rbularb0ys · 1 year

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Life With Levael: The Fair Folk

Special thanks once again to @sacred-dragonair / @brushbrulee on twitter!

The Cosmopolitan Gallery of Contemporary Art once again welcomed Levael through its doors. It was far less crowded today than it had been two days ago, but then it was a Monday morning. Hopefully this meant that there would be a space for a walk-in to rent out one of the artist’s spaces in the back. As he walked up to the front desk, Levael took a moment to savor the quiet, the only sound the clicking of his heels against the floor as he adjusted the bag hanging off his shoulder. As he walked, he pulled his shirt down over his large pregnant swell. Since he was planning on painting, he decided to wear some older clothes. So he had an ankle-length skirt sitting low on his hips beneath his belly, and a blouse which couldn’t cover the entirety of his full womb. It covered most of it, but the bottom was left bare. Showing such skin had Levael feeling a bit flustered given his prim and proper upbringing and he had to remind himself that this was part of learning to be less uptight. A bit of paint on his tummy wasn’t so bad anyway.

A dwarven gentleman was working behind the front desk along with a vampire woman, the two breaking from their conversation as the disguised demon approached. “May I help you?” The vampiric woman asked.

On the side of the desk, Levael noticed the brochures for the artists’ spaces.

“ARE YOU AN ARTIST WHO NEEDS A PLACE TO WORK? ASK ABOUT RENTING ONE OF OUR ARTISTS’ SPACES FROM US!”

If these brochures were the only advertisement the service got, it was no surprise Levael hadn’t learned about it until now. Clearing his throat, he turned his attention back to the clerk. “Yes, I was wondering if I could rent out one of your artists’ spaces? Preferably for today.”

The clerk looked at her computer and typed something, then looked back to Levael. “Yes, we have a few spaces available this morning. Are you a returning customer?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“Alright, I’ll set up a new file for you. First, I need your name.”

“Levi Virago.”

The clerk nodded and resumed typing, then turned to Levael. “Now, we rent our spaces by the hour, so how many hours are you looking to rent for?”

“About two hours. I’m not looking to make anything fancy.” Levael shrugged.

The vampire typed a few more things into her computer. “Okay. Just so you know, once your time is up you have the option to extend your session. What medium are you working with today?”

Levael raised an eyebrow. “Why does that matter?”

“Once a customer’s session is finished we have a cleanup crew take care of any messes and reset each space for the next customer. It helps to let them know what to expect to clean.” The clerk explained.

“Ah, I see. I’m looking to paint today. Watercolors.”

More typing from the clerk. “Alright, last question. Do you have your own materials, or will you be purchasing from us today?”

Levael pursed his lips. “I suppose I’ll be buying.”

The clerk nodded and typed a few last things, then looked up at her customer with a smile. “Okay, you’re all set. Since this is your first time with us, I’ll call someone over to show you around and help you get set up. Please wait here for a moment.” She picked up a phone sitting on the desk, pressed a button, and soon her voice was coming from the PA system overhead. “Cyrian to the front desk for a space tour, Cyrian to the front desk for a space tour.” She hung up and addressed the demon again. “He’ll be down in a moment.”

Nodding, Levael took a seat on a nearby bench and waited. He was only seated for about twenty seconds before someone approached him. A human-sized man phased down to him through the ceiling, and floated in front of him rather than standing on the floor. His skin was a distinct gray color, only a bit darker than Renyr’s come to think of it, and not as ashy in color. His ears had pointed tips, but their size made them more akin to ears of a human than an elf. His hair, a stark and literal red color with a matching red aura emanating from him. On his back, a portion of his aura was concentrated and shaped in a way that gave him the illusion of possessing wings. His nametag read “Cyrian, Assistant Curator”.

Cyrian was a faerie.

Now those are rare, Levael thought.

If dark elves were uncommon to see outside of the Undercity and the elven kingdom, then seeing a faerie outside of the Fae Wilds was like accidentally stumbling upon buried treasure on the beach.

“Apologies for the wait,” The faerie said, a professional smile on his face, “My name is Cyrian and I’ll be showing you around the space you rented, as well as helping you get settled in. Please, follow me.”

Levael stood from his seat and followed behind his guide, who continued to float instead of walking. “It was hardly any wait at all, don’t worry.” He assured the faerie.

“That’s kind of you to say.” Cyrian led the pregnant man past the front desk and through a large set of swinging doors marked “AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY”. Walking down a hallway, the quiet of the gallery began to give way to a mish-mash of loud music. At the end of the hall, there was a second set of double doors next to a kiosk manned by a human, and from what could be seen he was inside of a large supply room. “This is Steven. He runs our supply station.”

“How ya goin’, mate?” Steven asked, shaking hands with Levael. “Anythin’ you need for your work, you can get from me. Canvases, paints, marble, clay, doesn’t matter.”

“What payments do you accept?” Levael asked, rummaging through his bag for his wallet.

“Cash, credit, debit, check, whatevah.” Steven said. “We can also mail you a bill later if you can’t pay right now.” He took a brochure from a stack on the side of his counter and handed it to his customer. “This here’s our little catalog. Lets you see for yourself just what we’ve got on offer. We’ve got a 5% discount for new customers.”

Levael thanked the human and began looking over the catalog. Different sized canvases, different types of paint, everything he could conceivably need to create with was available. Hell, they even had bizarre contraptions that could be rented for more “experimental” pieces, like a wire system to hoist someone up and allow someone to drop paint from the ceiling.

Impressive.

The only issue was the prices, which were a bit… inflated. The prices for things as niche as the bits and bobs kept around for the experimental pieces made sense, and the canvases seemed reasonable, but for everything else? Levael made a note to himself to bring his own paints next time.

After having purchased his canvas and watercolor paints, the faerie led Levael through the nearby doors, and just like that the quiet ambiance of the gallery was completely gone. A cacophony of songs were playing all at once, coming from different rooms. Each space was walled off from the ones next to it, but each space lacked doors, meaning that all of the music the artists were listening to as they worked was clashing together. The air was heavy with the smell of paints, coffee, and stale cigarettes. The last one made Levael feel a bit uncomfortable, being pregnant, and if the movement inside his womb was anything to go by then his babies weren’t fond of it either.

“No one is actually smoking in here, right?” Levael asked cautiously. “Because if someone is then I can’t be here. I’m sure I don’t need to explain why.” He said, rubbing the sides of his belly as he pushed his bump forward for emphasis.

“I understand completely. Don’t worry, I’ll go around and ensure no one here is smoking.” Cyrian reassured him. “Let’s get you settled in first. Please, follow me.”

Levael followed behind the faerie, peeking into each room as they passed by. Someone was chiseling away at a large slab of marble and blasting speed metal. Another person was painting an enormous mural, listening to classical music. Someone else was sitting at a pottery wheel and listening to pop songs. The two men passed by several more spaces before coming across someone familiar. Inside one of the rooms sat Renyr, slouched in his seat and contemplating the canvas sitting on the easel before him, cup of coffee beside the oil paints next to him and listening to old, peacenik style music.

“Renyr?” Levael said, stopping in his tracks.

Renyr sat up straight and looked over to the doorway, surprise crossing his face when he saw the pregnant man. “Levi?” He began to smile, beckoning Levael over. “Hey, good to see ya! I didn’t expect to stumble by you today!”

Rubbing his tummy, Levael walked over to the other man’s side, feeling his heart begin to flutter as his babies shifted. As he noticed Renyr eyeing up his swollen womb, he decided not to try and fix his blouse, which had ridden up on his belly. “Likewise.”

“You two know each other?” The faerie asked as he floated over. “I wish I’d known. I would have tried to get you a discount on your session today.”

“Oh? You’re friends?”

“That’s right,” Cyrian nodded with a smile, “Renyr comes by often enough that it was pretty much unavoidable.”

“What can I say, I’m a charming fella.” Renyr said with a grin that made Levael’s heart skip a beat and his babies kick.

“What are you working on?” Levael asked, looking over Renyr’s shoulder to his easel. It looked like an outline for a painting of a woman in the checkout line of a grocery store with an overhead view of the items in her cart and on the cashier’s belt.

“I told you I had a client yesterday, right?” The dark elf asked. “Well, this is part of it. You’ve heard of Lucky Stop, right?”

“The grocery chain? Of course.”

“That’s them. They’re planning a new advertising campaign based around showing off how diverse their merchandise is. So I’m thinking of a lady's shopping cart and you can see she’s got, like, meat and dairy and bread and cleaners and motor oil and crap. This is my first draft, more or less.”

Before Levael could respond, Cyrian cleared his throat and addressed the demon. “Excuse me, I think I smell someone smoking. I’ll be right back.” He hurriedly floated off and phased through the wall into the next room, leaving the dark elf and the disguised demon alone.

“Is smoking allowed here?” Levael asked.

“Officially, no. Unofficially, the staff tends to let little things slide when it comes to regulars.” The shorter man shrugged.

“You know, I’ve never met a faerie before.” Levael mused.

“The majority of people haven’t. Hell, unless you’re living on the edge of the Fae Wilds it’s generally safe to assume you’ll go your whole life without meeting one.” Renyr said with a nod. He turned his attention back to his canvas and picked his brush back up. “So, what brings you by today?”

“Well, hearing you talk about the gallery yesterday got me thinking about how long it’s been since the last time I did some painting, so I figured I’d come and see what it was like.” As he spoke Levael rested his hands atop his tummy, wondering how best to take advantage of the fact they were alone. Renyr seemed fond of his bump, so maybe he could offer him the chance for a quick belly rub?

As he was thinking, something suddenly touched the bottom of the pregnant man’s belly. Levael yelped and jumped backward, then turned his large bump to the side so he could see what had been beneath it. But the only thing he saw was the empty floor.

Renyr jerked his head around when he heard Levael shout. “What, what’s wrong?!” He asked, clearly worried.

“S-Something touched the bottom of my belly!” Levael shuddered.

Initially, Renyr was concerned, but after thinking about it for a second his body relaxed and he looked much calmer. More irritated than worried. “I’ll be right back.” He sighed. He stood from his seat and hurried out of the room, calling for Cyrian as he went.

Levael took deep breaths, trying to figure out what was happening. Why was it that Renyr wasn’t as concerned? The look on his face suggested he knew what was going on, or at least had some kind of idea. Holding his womb protectively, the pregnant man decided that perhaps he had imagined the feeling of something on his belly. A good chunk of his skin was exposed at the moment. It was probably the breeze of the fans in the area.

As if to prove to Levael that no, he had in fact NOT imagined it, he once again felt something touching the bottom of his belly.

It felt like a hand.

It was rubbing his belly.

Shouting, Levael jumped backward and again turned to the side to see what his bump had been hiding, and again he saw nothing but the floor.

Cyrian phased through the wall, looking quite annoyed. “I’m sorry this happened. Please, let me take care of it.” He said. He dove down and through the floor before any reply could be made, which did nothing for the man he’d left alone. Levael looked to the doorway in hopes that Renyr would soon be back too, and thankfully the elf in question walked back in a second later.

“What is going on?!” Levael demanded, a shudder running down his spine.

Renyr walked over and sighed. “Honestly, it would be easier to just see for yourself.” He took Levael’s hand and gave a few reassuring pats. Suddenly this whole thing didn’t seem quite so terrible.

Cyrian phased back up through the floor, and Levael’s eyes widened at what he saw. Cyrian was pulling by the ear another faerie. And this one looked to be almost the opposite of his friend. Where Cyrian’s hair and aura were red, this one’s was blue. Where Cyrian’s skin was gray, this one was porcelain pale. Where Cyrian was dressed respectably, this one was dressed like he’d simply grabbed whatever was on the floor, with an ill-fitting hoodie, tank top, and torn up jeans. He was barefoot as well.

Oh, and he was also heavily pregnant. On the body of someone human-sized it was rather large, making him look like he was carrying triplets. His pregnant swell was the entire reason his hoodie wasn’t fitting, and his tank top left his belly entirely exposed. The fact that the rest of his body appeared to be rather skinny only served to make his pregnancy look bigger still. He didn’t just look like he could pop any second, he looked like he should have popped quite a while ago.

“Owie owie owie owie owie!” The second faerie whined.

“Tam’len, look what you’ve done!” Cyrian almost sounded like he was scolding a child as he spoke to his friend, literally wagging his finger at him. “You’ve made our guest uncomfortable and you gave him a terrible scare besides!”

“But I couldn’t help myself! I saw he had a lovely belly and I just had to rub it!” Tam’len jerked away from the other faerie’s grip and gestured to the disguised demon’s bump. “I mean, look at him! When was the last time you saw such a nice tummy! You know you want to pet it too!”

Cyrian crossed his arms, annoyance practically radiating off of him and his face unmoving. “We’ve talked about this, Tam’len.”

Sheepishly, the pregnant faerie faced Levael and gave him puppy dog eyes. “I’m sorry, Levi. I just thought your belly looked so nice, that’s all. I’m not a bad guy, I swear.”

Initially, Levael wondered how the faerie knew his name, before realizing that if he had been watching him then he obviously would have overheard it. “You could have asked.” He said sternly.

“This has been riveting, but I need to get back to work.” Renyr said, walking past the other men and sitting back at his easel. “Levi, we can talk more later.”

Cyrian checked his watch and quietly cursed under his breath. “I was supposed to be in the curator’s office five minutes ago. Levi, please follow me so we can get you set up.” Before the pair left the room, he turned and eyed Tam’len. “And YOU,” he said, his voice harsh with warning, “better not cause any more trouble.” He led Levael away before any response could come from the pregnant faerie.

Levael was led to the very next room over, and watched as Cyrian flew about hurriedly, setting up everything his customer would need. Easel, side table, chair, the music system, the water for the paints, all of it. “You can search for any songs you want on the stereo; it’s by artist or genre. And if Tam’len bothers you, let me know!” He called over his shoulder as he flew out.

And so the demon was left alone, nothing left to do but figure out what he would paint. Sighing, he gently rubbed his belly, trying to sort out what had just happened. Massaging the sides of his pregnant swell, he closed his eyes and focused on the feeling of the little ones inside of him. They were exercising their little legs and arms, causing their father’s bump to warp and shift. “I’m not sure what that was about either,” He said quietly, “If he’d just asked to feel I probably would have said yes…”

“Good to know!”

Levael was so startled by the voice behind him that he nearly fell out of his seat. He quickly turned around, and there was Tam’len, floating nearby and smiling mischievously. “You!”

“Look, I just wanted to apologize again. I’m sure you can sympathize though! You seem like a guy who can appreciate a nice belly when he sees one. You’re a man of taste. The quality of your own tum can attest to that.”

Levael turned and looked at his easel, arms crossed. As annoyed as he was, this faerie wasn’t doing a bad job of flattering him. And he did enjoy it when his belly received attention. He just didn’t like it when people touched him without permission.

“Here,” Tam’len said as he placed a piece of paper on Levael’s belly “take it.”

Raising an eyebrow, Levael picked up the paper and looked at it, seeing a series of numbers. “Is this your phone number?”

Tam’len grinned, unashamed with himself. “Yep! Let’s hang out sometime! I got a feeling we could both use some more friends who know what it’s like to lug around a baby in your belly all day.” He said, rubbing circles in his own enormous bump.

Silence. Levael didn’t have any answer to give without giving it some thought. Sure this guy was weird, but he was right that Levael could use some more friends. Three years he’d been living in Bohemia and so far he had no particular friends to speak of. Only people he got along with, and pretty much all of them were just his coworkers. And if he should gain a friend who knows what it’s like to be pregnant, all the better. Plus… if he was being completely honest… Tam’len had a pretty nice belly. Still…

“I don’t know. I don’t think I need a friend who can’t take the feelings of others into account.” He said, pointedly looking away from Tam’len.

But Tam’len was undeterred, and he floated around so Levael was looking at him again. “What about a friend you can be yourself around?”

Levael felt a sudden chill down his spine. To say he didn’t like the direction this conversation was taking would be an understatement. “What do you mean?” He asked, sitting up a little straighter.

“I mean, I’m pretty sure elves don’t have horns.”

Levael froze. His horns were hidden by his magic, yet Tam’len could see them? “How…?” His voice was shaking, quiet and small as he only barely managed to force out that one single word.

Tam’len grinned in response. “C’mon, us fae are known for being mischievous, aren’t we? Once you realize that we’re experts with glamors, it becomes obvious, doesn’t it? Who better to see past a magical disguise than a fae?”

A cold sweat ran down Levael’s skin as his mind raced with all the potential ways Tam’len could use his knowledge of the demon’s true race to ruin his life. “You have a funny way of making friends, you know that?” He asked quietly, his hands clenched into fists so tight his claw-like nails threatened to puncture his skin.

This question caused the smile to drop from Tam’len’s face. “Hey, don’t think I’m trying to blackmail you into anything. If you really don’t want to hang out, then fine. I’m not gonna force you to be my pal. I just thought maybe you’d appreciate having someone you don’t need to hide your true self around.” Gently, he placed a hand on Levael’s shoulder. His eyes no longer contained any trace of playfulness, now showing only concern, perhaps mixed with a bit of sympathy. “I’m gonna take a stab in the dark and guess that Levi isn't exactly a common name for demons. Does anyone outside of the underworld know your name? How long has it been since you’ve heard another person say it?”

Levael gulped, forcing himself to remain cool and not show how close to home those questions hit. Though he could feel tears beginning to well in his eyes, he forced his face to remain neutral. “Levael,” he said quietly, his voice barely more than a whisper, “my name is Levael.”

“Nice to meet you, Levael.” Tam’len said, his grin returning to his face. How he had managed to hear the other man beneath the music others were playing was a mystery, but Levael decided it wasn’t worth questioning right now. “How’s about you pet my belly this time, eh?” The faerie moved aside what little cloth was covering his swollen womb, baring the pale sphere of his pregnancy to the other man.

A small smile passed over Levael’s face. “Well… Okay.” He placed his hands on the tummy in front of him, gently stroking and petting it. The baby inside shifted and rolled, causing the entire belly to shift and warp in a manner one would consider either comical or grotesque. Levael gasped and pulled his hands away, his reaction causing Tam’len to snicker.

“What’s the matter? Not used to this much movement?” He teased, giving his bump a playful smack. His baby responded with another dramatic motion. A little foot pressed out toward the demon, its outline clear through the skin. Though, it looked a bit bigger than it should be…

Tam’len took Levael’s hands and placed them back on his belly, allowing him to feel the next wave of movement. As the unborn infant moved, Levael could quite clearly feel different parts of the baby. The knees, the head, the feet, just about everything. Tam’len wasn’t carrying multiples, his belly was stuffed with one single, big baby.

“Pretty sweet gut, eh?” The faerie said, patting the very top of his bump.

Levael merely nodded, his attention transfixed on the lively belly beneath his touch. He loved his own belly plenty, but the chance to feel someone else’s lively womb was fairly rare for him ever since leaving the underworld. Tam’len’s belly was flawless, with absolutely no stretch marks or blemishes to speak of. His skin was soft, but just underneath it felt oh-so firm and tight as a drum. His belly button was popped out, a fat little nub sitting on the apex of his pregnancy like a crown upon the head of royalty. “Your belly button looks like mine.” Levael said with a smile, lifting what little cloth of his blouse that was covering his navel.

“Awwww, what a cute lil button.” Tam’len purred, giving the exposed belly button a poke. Levael choked back a tiny moan in the back of his throat, causing Tam’len’s smile to grow wider as mischief gleamed in his eye. “Oh? Did I stumble upon something sensitive?” He teased, giving the navel a small flick. A small, quiet whine escaped the demon as he rubbed his thighs together, gripping his chair and fidgeting. “Hmm. Good to know.” Tam’len said with a small laugh. Thankfully, he decided to show mercy on Levael, and instead patted the other man’s tummy, then patted his head. “So what do you say? How’s about we chill sometime? Just two preggos, out on the prowl, painting the town red and getting into trouble.”

Taking deep breaths, Levael needed to take a second to calm himself down before he could reply. This faerie was a troublemaker, no doubt about it, yet he was empathetic enough to pick up on Levael’s loneliness. Having a friend who didn’t care that he was a demon sounded so, so nice. The chance to be his authentic self… To not have to hear someone use a name he felt nothing for…

I can at least give him a chance. It’s not like I can’t walk away if I don’t like him.

Levael didn’t stop Tam’len from patting his head, without realizing he’d actually been leaning into it. “Well… Okay.” He said, nodding. “But I could do without the trouble.”

Tam’len grinned and moved his hand to Levael’s shoulder. “Light mischief it is, then.” He placed the demon’s hands back on his his belly, eyeing Levael’s bump as he did. “Mind if I return the favor?”

Blushing, Levael nodded. Tam’len floated a bit lower and placed his hands on the offered belly, happily and greedily rubbing away. “Oh yeah. This is definitely one of the best bellies I’ve ever seen.” Looking up at the man whose belly he was fondling, he snickered as he noted how Levael’s blush deepened. He gently pressed around the stuffed womb beneath his touch, feeling all of the babies within. “Ooh, you’ve got a whole litter in there, don’t you?” He cooed as he felt the unborn kick and roll, “Feels like they’re having fun.”

“Your belly is nice too,” Levael said, “it’s so smooth and soft.”

“Hey, thanks! But so’s yours, y’know. Or are you just being modest?”

The two men sat there for a time, rubbing and stroking each other’s tummies, feeling the movements of their wombs’ occupants, and complimenting each other. Engrossed in the sensation of bellies, Levael was startled when he heard someone clear his throat. He whipped his head around, and there floated Cyrian. “Cyrian!” He yelped as he quickly stumbled to his feet. The two fae had to catch him from tripping over in his haste. Hurriedly fixing his clothes and clearing his throat, Levael tried to calm himself down and put an end to his intense blushing.

“Your time’s up.” Cyrian stated, his voice professional and non-judgemental of what he’d walked (or rather floated) in on. He looked at his customer’s canvas, noting how it was as blank as it had been when he left Levael alone. “It looks like you didn’t get much painting done.”

“Oh…” Levael followed Cyrian’s gaze and noticed that he had indeed accomplished nothing over the two hours he’d been there.

“Would you like to extend your time?” Cyrian asked.

“Ah, that’s not necessary.” Levael shook his head. “I think I’m done for today.”

Cyrian nodded. “I see.” He looked back and forth between his customer and his friend, then addressed the demon once more. “Was Tam’len bothering you at all? It didn’t look like he was when I came in, but I figure I’d better ask anyway.”

Tam’len stuck out his tongue at his friend, then flew off and phased through the ceiling. “Oh no, he wasn’t bothering me at all.” Levael said with a shake of his head.

“Good to hear. I never know with him.” Cyrian said, arms crossed. “Since you didn’t wind up actually doing anything today, I’ll see if I can’t get you a refund.” When Levael opened his mouth to protest, Cyrian cut him off. “Don’t bother arguing, I’m going to do it even if you make me promise I won’t.” He smiled. “A friend of Renyr’s is a friend of mine, after all.”

“That’s very kind of you.” Levael said. He began packing up the paints he had purchased, then looked to Cyrian, who was putting everything else away. “Cyrian, can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.”

Levael took a deep breath and looked the fae in the eye. “Were you able to see past my disguise the whole time?”

Cyrian was quiet as he looked down at the floor, then up at the demon. “I figured it’s not my business.”

Silence passed between the two. It figured that if Tam’len had been able to see his true self, then so would Cyrian. “Please don’t say anything to Renyr.”

“I understand why you need to hide yourself. I still don’t like that you’re lying to my friend.”

“Please.” Levael begged.

Another moment of silence, then Cyrian gave a small nod. “Alright. But please tell him sooner rather than later.”

Levael nodded. “I’ll tell him. Just… I need to know him more first. I can’t just reveal myself to someone I only met a few days ago.”

Cyrian nodded, the sympathy he felt clear on his face as his eyes softened. “I get that. For what it’s worth, Renyr’s never seemed to have any problem with demons. I hope that helps.”

Hearing those words, Levael felt his heart flutter a bit as a new feeling of hope planted itself within. Sure, it was possible that Renyr’s issues with demonkind were something he kept to himself, hence why Cyrian had never seen it. But it was equally possible that Renyr was simply someone who felt no grudge against his people. Levael decided he would hold out for the latter possibility until it was proven otherwise. “It does. Thank you.” Cyrian saw Levael to the door of the artists’ area, and the demon turned to look at him. “Cyrian? I have a few questions more.”

“Go ahead.” Cyrian nodded.

“First, if you’re assistant curator, why are you the one seeing to someone renting out space instead of a lower employee?” Levael asked, head tilted.

Immediately, Cyrian’s smile became strained. It would seem this was perhaps a sore spot of some kind. “My boss-”

“Is an asshole!”

Both men looked up where the voice was coming from and saw Tam’len poking his head down through the ceiling. “Tam’len!” Cyrian cried. The other fae replied by poking out his tongue and disappearing again. Sighing, Cyrian rubbed his temples and looked back to Levael with his forced smile once more, though it looked to be equally tired this time. “Let’s just say my boss expects much of me. Your other question?”

“Um, yes. Since you already know that I’m… I’m…” Levael took a deep breath, trying to summon the courage to say it before deciding that the best way to do so would be to simply force the words out before his mind had a chance to think about it. “that I’m a demon, when no one is around, would you call me Levael?”

The smile that crossed Cyrian’s face immediately caused the knot in Levael’s stomach to loosen. “Sure thing, Levael.” The faerie said.

Hearing someone use his real name lifted a weight from Levael’s shoulders, one he hadn’t known had been there while also realizing how it had been binding him. How was it that simply hearing someone use his name made him feel so free? Why was something so small making his heart feel as though it was being lifted from a dark pit?

“Thank you.” Levael said quietly, unable to control the smile spreading across his face. “I’ll see you around.” He waved goodbye and began walking back to the entrance, catching Renyr at a vending machine on his way out. “Hello again, Renyr.”

Renyr looked at Levael, smiling. “Hey there. Heading out for the day?”

“That’s right. How about you?”

“I’ve still got some time left. I want to get some more work done on my draft before I head home for the day.” He reached into the machine and pulled out a bag of chips. “Might I offer you a snack?” He asked, shaking the small bag enticingly.

Levael chuckled. “I appreciate the offer, but I think you might need it more if you’re still going to be working here for a while.” As if to argue with him, Levael’s belly gave a loud growl, his babies kicking and punching in demand of food. “Oof…” He groaned, rubbing the sides of his tummy.

“Sounds like you’ve been outvoted.” Renyr laughed.

“Maybe so, but this isn’t a democracy. I’ll get them some real food instead.” He said, smiling down at his bump as he patted it reassuringly.

Renyr looked down to the belly before him, then back up to Levael. “Mind if I feel?”

Levael nodded, perhaps a bit more eager than he’d like to have come across. “Yes, go ahead.” He said, trying to catch his breath as he felt his heart begin to pick up its pace.

Renyr placed his hands on the lovely bump, rubbing it softly. “Hey in there, you need to go easy on your daddy. You’ll get your food soon.” One of the babies inside rolled, causing the disguised demon’s belly to visibly warp and shift before sharply kicking Renyr’s hand. “Geez, these guys are impatient.” He grinned up at Levael.

Blushing, Levael laughed awkwardly. “Hah, yeah, they’ve got some big appetites.” He said. He decided to leave out the part where they were probably also annoyed by his racing heart. “I suppose I do too.”

“In that case, let’s get ourselves a nice lunch sometime,” The elven man suggested, “I have a feeling that’s a date these guys would agree to.” He said as he patted Levael’s pregnant swell.

“O-Oh yes, they’d enjoy that very much.” Levael said, nodding quickly. “Should I call you later? I have the night off work today.”

“Oh yeah? That’s good. I’ll give you a call once I get back home.” Renyr checked his watch, his smile running away from his face as he did so. “Dammit. For now though, I gotta get back to work. I’ll see you soon, Levi.” He gave the belly a few goodbye pats, and turned and began walking back to his space, then paused and looked over his shoulder. “By the way, your belly looks really cute today.”

Upon hearing these words, Levael began blushing profusely, his mind short circuiting and his face blushing furiously. “I-I-I’m glad you- Um, I mean, um, th-thanks!” He said quickly before turning and hurrying away before he could further embarrassing himself. The rest of the gallery became a blur as he scurried out, not even noticing the vampire at the front desk telling him to have a nice day. He only paused once when, in his hurry, he’d run into the door, squashing his belly and leaving him feeling quite embarrassed from all the stares it had no doubt earned him.

Once outside, Levael paused to catch his breath. His heart was about to pound its way out of his chest, and his babies were throwing a fit inside his womb. First they had been denied food, then bothered by the sound of his racing heart, THEN squished against the door, and now they’d been bounced around as he ran out of the building. Two of them decided to take revenge with targeted strikes against his ribs and cervix. “Ow! I’m sorry!” Levael whimpered. “We’ll go get food now, okay?” He huffed, stroking his belly in an attempt to calm its tenants.

As he began to walk toward the bus stop, he heard a giggling behind him. Looking back, he saw Tam’len floating behind him, grinning and snickering. “Aww, now wasn’t that cute? I think I see good times in store.” With a giggle and a grin and a cheeky wink, Tam’len shrank down to the size one would assume a faerie to be based on children’s stories. He was small enough to fit in one’s palm, especially for someone as large as Levael. Looking like a ball of blue light, he flew off before the demon could ask what he’d meant.

Levael paused for a moment, trying to figure out what Tam’len had meant before his thoughts were interrupted by another loud stomach growl and another kick against his cervix. Groaning and rubbing his belly, Levael walked off toward the bus stop deciding that right now he should focus on where to get lunch. Maybe a buffet. Still, as he sat on the bus stroking his swollen womb, thoughts of Renyr complimenting his belly kept replaying in his mind. Levael had to pinch himself to stop from squealing like an infatuated schoolgirl, and decided then and there that after lunch, he would go home and wait there until he got Renyr’s call. And if his growling gut was any indication, getting enough food to satisfy his stomach and his babies would probably take up a good chunk of time.

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