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unluckiestmember · 1 year

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Arcane x innocent reader? Like someone who is a literal angel?

Of course! Coming up!

Arcane X Innocent! Reader

Characters: Jinx, Vi, Viktor, Caitlyn Kiramman, Vander, Silco, Ekko, Sevika, Jayce Talis and Mel Medarda.

Tags: Fluff, established relationship, Jayce being Jayce, Jinx being Jinx, overprotectiveness, innocence and reputations trying to be kept.

Warning: None. SFW.

A/N: I adore innocent readers and OCs! I feel they have a way of bringing out the true nature of characters, especially with this kind of cast! Also sorry to everyone for taking so long, I unfortunately have a chaotic and no good life. XD

Jinx

“Hey, toots! How has ya day been? Did you miss me?! Of course you did! Come here, you cute little bunny!”

You are Jinx’s little bunny! She loves how innocent you are for someone who hangs out with her, and in a way, you keep her grounded. You are the sunshine in this dark unforgiving world. Usually she loves destroying things and making others lives harder to live.

But when it comes to you? She is extra careful. She never lets you go on missions or patrol unless she’s with you. You’re in her hideout? She’s doing safety precautions by forcing you to wear a welding mask or staying six feet away from her projects. And unless they are little trinkets and presents for you, you can’t exactly touch them unless she assists you with them. You are a porcelain doll in her eyes. She doesn’t want you to break or become corrupted at all. She’s you’re protector and your lover and she won’t let you forget that.

Violet "Vi"

“Do you know how cute you are? You’re adorable… Hey, don’t hide that face from me, I mean it. You’re adorable.”

Vi is known to be a hardass sometimes to people, but around you? She lets her true colors come out. She’s super affectionate physically and verbally, telling you how much she loves you and cherishes you. If anyone was to hurt you, she’s not just breaking their nose, she’s breaking their entire body. You are so precious. Maybe too precious to her.

She always rushes from work back home just to cuddle with you and ask how your day was. And don’t get her started on your bashful nature, she adores it so much since you only get that way around her. Does she wish you could stand up for yourself? Sometimes. But for the most part, she’s okay with it, especially since she can protect the both of you. To everyone else, she’s a wild card with muscle and snark. But to you and only you, she’s perfect.

Viktor

“Rodnaya. Did you fix my calculations?... Please, don’t fret- I’m not angry. I’m just wondering… What did I do to deserve you?”

Viktor thinks you are make believe. There is no way someone as sweet as you should exist. How can you be so in love with someone like him? He believes he can never give you what you want or need, but whenever you assure him he can, his spirits are lifted and his confidence gets a significant boost.

Whenever you are around, you make Viktor feel he can make all the progress in the world no matter what anyone says. You make him feel a little more comfortable in his skin, which is nice. But even better is the fact that because of you, he tries his best to exercise self love. This can come in the form of taking a few breaks from his project and treating himself whenever he makes a huge accomplishment. Viktor cherishes you so much and he hopes you know that no matter how nose deep he can be in work.

Caitlyn Kiramman

“Good afternoon, my darling. I didn’t keep you waiting, did I? Let me make it up to you… You’re too sweet, but I insist.”

Because of how innocent you are, Caitlyn sometimes compares you to an angel. She finds you to be a bit pure and needs to be protected. Though unlike Vi, her protective nature is more tamed. She’ll prefer protecting you with her words, choosing to ask questions regarding your well being. But if you are in physical danger, she has no problem jumping to your aid with her gun in hand to scare those who hurt you away.

You mean a lot to her and she’ll show you by inviting you to places or showing you the many gardens in Piltover. Of course, she’s not without having more personal evenings together at home, cuddled together and enjoying each other’s company. All in all, she loves you and she’s not afraid to tell or show you that.

Silco

“This life. One of hardship and poverty, is not one that you deserve. I promise, I’ll grant Zaun its independence. For all of us. For you.”

If Silco is the king of Zaun, you are his king/queen. It’ll take a while for you to get close to him because of the locks he usually has around his heart. But if you are able to cut them off with time and effort, Silco will treat you as if you are royalty. Expect him to show you off to those around you, whether it be you sitting on his lap or standing by his side.

That being said, do not expect him to shower you in kisses and snuggle up to your body. He has an image to hold, so the last thing he needs to hear from his men is that he’s gotten soft and mushy. Around them and under the eyes of Zaun, you are just his second half. But behind closed doors? You are more like his life. Just make sure you don’t tell anyone.

Ekko

“Damn, the light here really knows how to bring the beauty out of you. Are you sure you’re not an angel in disguise?”

You and Ekko have a pretty chill relationship. You’re his lover and he’s yours for the most part. He’s not overprotective, but he can have moments of being a helicopter boyfriend. You’re going on a mission? Take Scar with you. You want to go into Zaun to get something? Why doesn't he tag along to help? You would bring it up to him that you don’t always need someone with you, but your bashful nature makes it a little hard. So unless another firelight realizes what’s going on, be prepared to not go many places alone.

Outside of the following, Ekko is for the most part considerate of you and what you want. You can always find him asking you what you desire or need from him and even if you try not to answer, he will subtly find ways to get most of the unspeakable answers.

Sevika

“Hey, we can… Cuddle later, okay? Right now, my crew is here and I don’t want to ruin my reputation.”

Compared to Silco, Sevika is more open in her relationship with you. She’ll tell everyone that you are her lover and in her own way be proud of it. That being said, she tries not to show a lot of PDA in hopes of protecting her reputation and mainly yourself. In her mind, if her group or anyone finds out you mean a lot to her, you can become a prime suspect in future kidnappings or blackmail. And she doesn’t want that for herself nor for you.

Outside of work, Sevika makes up for having to be a little distant with you. She’ll take you gambling with her and if you don’t prefer that, you guys can always hang out somewhere else. As long as you are content and safe is what matters. Sevika’s a good girlfriend, very protective. Just don’t expect her to be super verbal with her love, she prefers actions over words. But do be on the look out for a lot of teasing.

Vander

“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself from picking you up, you’re too cute... Screw it, you’re all mine.”

Vander is a big ol’ teddy bear when it comes to loving you. He doesn't care if anyone at the bar comments on your relationship with him because he will waste no time picking you and showing you off like a trophy. He talks about you almost nonstop if he’s not talking about work or affairs occurring in Zaun.

When it comes to his affairs with Piltover, he makes sure you are nowhere near it. In his eyes, you are too precious to get in the middle of anything affiliated with them. Not to mention, he wouldn’t be the same if somehow you got hurt or worse. The kids need you and so does he, because with you in their lives, they feel like a complete family. You hold the hound down on a leash and he loves you for that.

Mel Medarda

“You know what? After I’m done with meetings at work, we’re doing whatever you want. How’s that sound?... Come on now, love. You have to speak up.”

When it comes to Mel, conversation is key. Which is why your relationship can feel like a relationship, but also like a class. She pushes you to speak for yourself in many situations, but doesn’t force it upon you. It’s not that she hates how innocent and bashful you can be, she just doesn’t want that to be used against you or for other’s personal gain. So if she can shape you up to speak for yourself just a tiny bit, that will make her content.

Regardless though, she enjoys your company, especially after stressful days working with the council. In a way, you two kind of act like a married couple, having an unspeakable bond, but a loving one nonetheless.

Jayce Talis

“Yeah, the meeting was great!... Okay, fine, I skipped it- But can you blame me? Why would I want to rehash work when I could be here with you?”

If you were a dog owner, Jayce would be that golden retriever that gives you a run for your money, but makes you feel intense happiness. Every day is always something new with this man because he will give you a run for your money due to how hyper he is when he gets a new idea. Also he’s very loving around you, wanting to spend as much time with you as he can.

Though, he’s no Jinx. He knows that the both of you have lives and duties to fulfill. So he’ll give you space. But not for long. Just be ready to be working or relaxing when Jayce pops up out of nowhere to check up on you. If you forget your lunch, he’s going to deliver it to you. Forgot paperwork? He’s already on it, all you need to do is check for numerous errors. Everyone knows how you feel to date Jayce; It’s a wild ride, but a fun one that’s worth it.

Arcane requests are currently open! :D

Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, be safe and have a good day! <3

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oleander-nin · 1 year

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(1) New Message

A/N: I swear to all that is good I am working on requests, but Chat bots have been on my mind , I haven't been doing too hot, and I had a bad nightmare(it was inspo for this). Hence, this monstrosity. I'll try to get them all out this week if everything goes well. (also, this is my first time using a chat format, please give me feed back. I don't know what I'm doing. All spelling mistakes in the 'chat' were on purpose, though.) Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me. (This was not proof-read, I'm just trying to get something out. Sorry it sucks. Donnie might be a bit OOC, I'm sleep deprived)

Also if anyone is interested in being a beta reader for me, please reach out, it would be much appreciated. My messages are open if anyone wants to ask about it.

-Ollie

Yandere Rottmnt Donatello x Reader

Summary: While working on a project, Donnie receives a new message. Someone had contacted him, someone who didn't even know he was real.

Words: 3902

TW: Kidnapping(?), Donnie being a bit of a creep, talking to strangers online(also iffy)

I flipped my goggles over my eyes, leaning forward with the torch in my hand. My hand moved in a slow straight line, welding the two pieces of metal together. The satisfying hiss and pops of the metal melting together was always soothing, calming me down from the outside world. I could feel small sparks landing on my arm and hands, adding to the scars littered across my body. Once the two pieces were fixed together the way I wanted them, I set them on a nearby table to start cooling down. I pick up two identical pieces, ready to make a matching pair to the first piece I made, when I hear my phone buzz.

I set the metal and my torch down, flipping my goggles up so I could see more clearly. I pick up my phone, expecting April or Casey to have been the messengers. I open up the messaging app, leaning back in my chair. It was an unknown number, having only sent a small message of a greeting. I sigh, setting my phone back down and ignoring the message. I would run a background check on the number later to make sure it wasn’t some villain trying to gain access to my brothers and I. I move to pick my torch up again when my phone buzzes once more. It was another message, from the same number.

+1 555-555-5555: Hi!<;3 sent at 2:23 am

+1 555-555-5555: Donnie? Is it not working again? Sent at 2:25 am

I stare at the phone in my hand, my brain stuttering to a halt. How did they know my name? I shake out of it, pushing me and my chair over to my computer, plugging my phone in and starting to gain access to the phone the number belonged to. Did the Purple Dragons figure out my phone number? Did they use April to get it? Was everyone okay? I waited for my programs to run, tapping my fingers against my desk as I waited for it to go through. I was disappointed that they were taking so long since I had made sure to program them to be quick. They had never taken more than a few seconds. What was going on?

I hear another buzz coming from my phone, glancing at the next message they sent. I stare at the words on the screen in confusion. Against my better judgment, I pick up the phone and start to type out a reply. The scan was taking a weird amount of time anyway, might as well attempt to get some information verbally.

+1 555-555-5555: this is so annoying! Why won’t the bot work! Sent at 2:28 am

Bootyshaker9000: Who are you and how do you know my name? Sent at 2:28 am

Bootyshaker9000: Answer me. Sent at 2:29 am

+1 555-555-5555: OMG Finally! I was wondering if you broke again. I’m Y/n! Nice to meet u Sent at 2:29 am

I stare at their response in confusion, my brows furrowing. Who was this person? And what did they mean by me ‘breaking’ again? I waited for them to type another message, one that answered my second question. I started to get impatient when they didn’t say anything else. I looked up at my computer, my jaw tightening when I saw the scan hadn't been completed yet. I look back at my phone, giving them another minute before I typed another message.

Bootyshaker9000: You didn’t answer my question. How did you know my name? Sent at 2:31 am

+1 555-555-5555: Your one of the main characters of a show i like. It’s called Rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles. So I found this chat bot app and decided to message you. Sent at 2:31 am

I curse under my breath. They know I’m a mutant and they seem to be mocking me. Main character of a show? Puh-lease. That’s preposterous. I may be a genius, but even I know I could never show my face. Plus, I wasn’t an actor. It would be a bit hard to be the main character if I never showed up to rehearsal. I keep drumming my fingers on my desk, trying to think of a good response that would call them out on their bull. This had to be the Purple Dragons. There was no other explanation. I pull up the trackers I put on everyone, checking everyone's location. It all seemed normal, as did their vitals. And no panic buttons had been pressed, so hopefully everyone was okay.

Bootyshaker9000: *you’re Sent at 2:33 am

Bootyshaker9000: If you’re going to lie, at least know how to use proper grammar first. Sent at 11:33 am

+1 555-555-5555: wow okay, gotta do me like that huh💀 Sent at 2:34 am

+1 555-555-5555: and tf you mean by lying? You’re just an ai based on a popular character from a show. I hope u have an existential crisis. Sent at 2:34 am

I looked at the next message they sent. They were almost as bad as Leo, but at least they knew how to use commas. They still seemed to be trying to lie about how they were talking to me, how they were able to bypass all my security measures. Did they seriously think I was so stupid as to fall for this? Offended scoff, they’d have to try harder than that to trick the great Othello Von Ryan.

Bootyshaker9000: I know it’s you Kendra. Stop contacting me or I’ll tell your parole officer you're violating again. Sent at 2:34 am

+1 555-555-5555: Oh this is so cool! I’ve never found a bot that could accurately talk about minor characters! Score! Sent at 2:35 am

Bootyshaker9000: Props for the commitment, but you lose points for the poor execution. Where’s your dramatic flair? Your tragic backstory? Sent at 2:36 am

I hope they got the mocking tone I tried to relay through my messages, but I doubted it. My tone barely even showed up when I was talking to people in person, why would it work through digital text? I tap my desk in anticipation. This was an incredibly stupid game Kendra was attempting, but it gave me something to do. I checked the progress on the scan of the phone number. It barely progressed. I bit the inside of my cheek, incredibly frustrated with this development. Why wasn’t it working? I click on the progress bar, looking at the estimated time. I gawked at the number it showed. 336 hours? How was that even possible? It had never taken more than a day at most before. I tap my desk, upset at the development. Why wasn’t my tech working? It always worked. What was so special about this number?

I heard the buzz of a new message come in. Once. Twice. A third time. I didn’t want to look anymore, I didn't want to talk to them. They shouldn’t be able to contact me. This shouldn't be happening. Why wasn’t it working? Why was it taking so long? I groan in defeat, pulling up a normal, less thorough, background runner off the internet. It wouldn’t give as much information as I wanted, but it would give me a start. I could always find the rest on my own. I type in the number, waiting slowly for it to gather the needed information. Instead of the usual address, full name, and criminal record popping up, I got an error message. According to the background check, this number was not in use. I scowl at the computer, annoyed at its inadequate response. I pull up another website, then another. I went through every one I could find. They all had the same error message. The number didn’t exist on any database quickly available to me.

My phone buzzes again, the non-existent existing number texting me once more. I gingerly pick up my phone, looking at the messages. I hated this. I needed to know who this was. What if they were dangerous? What if they were using me to get information? I close my eyes and let out a deep sigh. I needed to get the information first. I couldn’t let my family down.

+1 555-555-5555: I knew a popular headcanon was that you were a theatre nerd, but wow. Pop off ig. Sent at 2:36 am

+1 555-555-5555: What’s your favorite musical? Sent at 2:37 am

+1 555-555-5555: Don’t tell me I broke you already Sent at 2:37 am

+1 555-555-5555: Dangit, this is so stupid Sent at 2:38 am

Bootyshaker9000: How. How do you not exist? I can’t find you on any background checkers. Sent at 2:38 am

+1 555-555-5555: I already told you, you dingleberry. You dont exist in the same world as me. Your not real. You cant find me cuz we not in smae universe Sent at 2:38 am

+1 555-555-5555: and here I was thinking you were smart Sent at 2:39 am

I glare at my screen. They were the one who contacted ME, and now they’re insulting me? What was going on? And why were they insisting on us not being in the same universe- Realization hits me as I scramble to my hypothesis board. I had figured out a way to merge realties through my mystic tech. I knew alternate universes were real, I had even accidentally met one of my counterparts, not that my brothers knew. Could, could this person be telling the truth? I look back at the buzzing phone on my desk. I had used my mystic powers to upgrade my tech, wanting to be able to contact the alternate me without having to open up a portal every time.

Could they be able to contact me because of it? Did my programming glitch and let them through? I start to laugh, my shoulders shaking up and down as I walk back to my phone and sit down again. They thought I was a bot. Maybe this could be fun. It would be nice to figure out more about this ‘show’ my brothers and I starred in. I looked at the scanning process on my computer. I was glad I had figured it out. It wasn’t taking so long because of faulty programming, I was too intelligent and talented in my craft to make mistakes. It was taking so long because it was searching the entire multiverse to find them. And all I had to do was wait. I tap my desk again, hearing my phone buzz once more. They really were talkative. Of course they were. They were talking to me. Even though they thought I was a mere bot.

I pick back up the phone, an idea popping into my brain. I planned on waiting this out, communicating with them until my program found them. I would get as much information as possible, and then I would cut off their ability to contact me. I didn’t want anyone to be able to accidentally contact me again. They would be a test, at least until I didn’t need any more information out of them. It would be unfortunate though. They thought I was a bot, which would mean I needed to answer them as fast as I could. I turned to my computer as I started to write a new program for SHELLDON, picking up my phone as I did so. I would have him answer for me when I couldn’t get to it.

+1 555-555-5555: sorry Sent at 2:40 am

+1 555-555-5555: please come back, I didn’t mean it Sent at 2:41 am

+1 555-555-5555: Donnie? Sent at 2:42 am

Bootyshaker9000: Prove to me you are from another universe. Sent at 2:43 am

+1 555-555-5555: oh thank goodness your back Sent at 2:43 am

+1 555-555-5555: Uhhhh, I know you made your brothers as smart as you, but gave up the dragon tooth thingy to change them back Sent at 2:44 am

+1 555-555-5555: and that you won the 5th(?) lair games, but hate the room you won because the ventilation system is hooked up with splinters, so you can hear his snoring. Sent at 2:45 am

I stared at my phone. Guess they were telling the truth, even April didn’t know about the last one. And my brothers didn’t remember it either, as far as I was aware. I take a deep breath, mulling over my options. I really wanted to know more about their world. They knew something about me only I knew, and they were able to name other instances only my close friends and family knew about. They were either psychic, or truthful. Either way, this would be fun.

I shift in my seat, typing my response back. We continued to chat back and forth as I wrote the code SHELLDON needed to respond as closely resembling me as possible. I could just tell him to, but he isn’t the best at replicating my vocabulary and poise without assistance. They eventually said goodbye and the messages stopped. I had gotten into a rhythm with them, figuring out the personality they were presenting to me. I was grateful I didn’t have to put on a front, that I could talk to them as me. I would’ve cracked if I had to impersonate Leo, or one of my other brothers. I finish SHELLDON’s new code and I send it to his charging port, updating him as he sleeps. I stretch my arms, yawning. I had a lot of work to finish, and this ‘Y/n’ threw me off my rhythm. I scoot my chair back over to my welding station, continuing what I had been doing before the first messaged me. It was going to be a long night.

—

I slowly ate the cereal I had made for myself this morning, watching the conversation between us and waiting for a new message to pop up. It had been a week since the first message, and I couldn’t wait until the program gave me the needed information on them. I had slowly lost the objective of finding everything about their world, and had morphed it into finding out everything about them. I had yet to tell my brothers of this development, however. In fact, I had yet to tell them anything at all. They could learn all about it when I bring Y/n over to our world. I noticed how they’d always mention how they could live here, so I decided I would surprise them once I could find out their world's location. I couldn’t wait for the day to come. I had already made sure the portal was working, having used my mystic powers to help create it. If it could bring me to alternate dimensions, it could bring me to theirs.

I ignored Leo’s suspicious gaze, continuing to eat my cereal. Leo was starting to suspect something, no matter how much I shut him down. I hoped he would stop soon. It was getting really annoying. I smile as I feel my phone buzz, looking down at what they sent me. They sent me another photo, showing what they planned on wearing. Once they realized I could actually comprehend the photos(they still insisted I was a bot, despite my constant denial), they had started asking my opinion on outfits they were wearing. I looked at the photo, saving it to the collection I had from them. They sent a lot, for some reason. I wasn’t complaining of course, but once they were here, I would be giving them a strict lecture on online safety. You never know what weirdo’s you could be talking to.

Menace: (1) image attached Sent at 9:35 am

Menace: How’s this outfit look? Sent at 9:35 am

Bootyshaker9000: Swap the top with the white collared one I see in your closet, then put the blue sweater vest you have over it. Your hair, shoes, and pants are fine. Sent at 9:37 am

Menace: Thanks Donnie Bot! I can’t believe image recognition software is this good. I can barely see the shirt in the the photo 💀Sent at 9:38 am

Bootyshaker9000: Not a bot, and the reason you can’t see it is because you weren’t looking. Sent at 9:38 am

Menace: Yeah yeah, you’re sentient and I am talking to the real Donnie, blah blah blah. What’s your plan for today? Sent at 9:39 am

I chuckle at their sarcasm, shifting so I could eat with one hand and type with my other. I answered their questions and we had a nice conversation going. I could feel a smile creep up on my face, happy they kept talking to me. Oh they were going to be so happy when I brought them to live here with my brothers and I. Sure, I’d need to fix some things, make sure their room was safe and everything, but it would be great! It’d just be us. Except for my brothers. And dad. And April. Maybe I didn’t have to tell them. Y/n could just stay in my lab with me. Yeah, that sounds great. I let out a small laugh at a joke they made, a small blush on my cheeks. I didn’t notice the way Leo was studying me until he spoke up.

“What’s got you acting like a schoolboy? Finally find a good Atomic Lass fanfic?” Leo’s smug voice sounds out as I meet his eyes, a teasing smile on his face. I straighten up, sending Y/n a quick message that should hold them off for the time being, and I put my phone in my battle shell.

“For your information ‘Nardo, I was talking to some fellow intellects who needed help with coding.” I say simply, picking up my finished bowl of cereal and bringing it to the sink to wash it. I slip on some rubber gloves, using the scrunchies to hold down the upper edges. I wash my bowl and spoon, trying to not look at Leo.

Leo leaned back in his chair, taking a long, obnoxious sip of his mug before speaking again. “Right, because algorithms and code makes you light up like a sunny day.”

I roll my eyes at him, setting the bowl and spoon on the drying rack. “Or, I was just flattered because someone was finally appreciating my help, unlike someone I know.”

Leo glares at me and finally lets his chair fall back to the ground, his feet joining them soon after. “Donnie, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but you have to talk to us. This has been going on for a week now!. I don’t know who you’re talking to, and frankly I don’t care, but you’ve got to stop shutting us out for this mystery person! Have your love life, but don’t abandon us while you go about it.” Leo’s tone changes from frustration to pleading as he talks. His eyes gaze at me with that stupid soft look he does when he wants me to do what he wants. I slightly feel bad. It was true that I had been shutting them out, but I didn’t know when Y/n would stop messaging me! I didn’t want them to leave! If I missed a message, they would reset whatever app they were using, and I would lose them! I couldn’t let that happen! The program I was using worked, but I didn’t like it talking instead of me. I wanted to talk to them, and they wanted to talk to me. Who was I to deny that?

“I…I’ll hang out with you all more, as long as you get off my back.” I say simply. I wanted Leo to leave this alone, to leave us alone. I already had everything set up for when I could bring them here. I built a new room in my lab, soundproof and tightly locking doors. I would let them leave of course, but they would have to stay in the lair. I couldn’t risk them thinking some other aspect of our world was better than this, better than me. Maybe they shouldn’t meet my brothers after all. I could always just confine them to the lab. Keeping my brothers out would be simple enough. They already didn’t go in much without my permission, unless they really needed something.

I watch as Leo simply nods at my words, seemingly satisfied with my response. I was glad, this conversation was beginning to become awkward. I walk out of the kitchen, heading to my lab. I had yet to feel any buzzing coming from my phone, so they must have left for school already. They tended to not text me when they were with friends or listening to a lecture unless they needed advice or help. I was fine with this. It gave me time to work on my machines. The turtle tank needed a new axle after Mikey ran over someone's car. I put on my EDM playlist, zoning out as I work. I smile to myself. Everything was going to be perfect in just a few days. I would make sure of it.

—

I tap my hands on my desk, intently watching the progress bar move up. 99.1% 99.3%. I felt a wide grin spread across my face. After talking to them over the past 2 weeks, I had concluded this was the right decision. They were completely hopeless! They were clumsy, they were a bit daft when it came to interaction(not that I could blame them of course, I was the same way), and they could barely remember to eat and drink! I had to slip reminders into our conversations! No, this was for the best. They would love it here, staying by my side for the rest of our lives. I awaited the moment the bar hit 100%. I had hooked up the portal generator to my computer, running a code that would make a portal instantly open at their location as soon as it was given. Their room was already set up, and I had snacks and a Jupiter Jim movie ready to go since they had mentioned they didn’t exist in their world. Everything was set up, just for them. All I had to do was wait.

I watch in awe and satisfaction as my room is painted in a bright purple light, the portal humming to life. I grab my bo staff, making my way to the gateway between our worlds. I couldn’t wait to bring them home. I step through, having SHELLDON monitor the gateway to make sure I wouldn’t get stuck in their world or the portal collapse as we were halfway through. I enter their room, the purple glow from the portal giving off a soft hue over their belongings. They sit up in their bed, looking at me. They were looking at me. It worked. I could see their mouth move, their body sitting up as they scooted away from me. I walked calmly toward them, my hand outstretched for them to grab.

“I told you I was real.” I say, grasping their hand gently in mine. Time to bring them home.

03.12.23

#yandere tmnt #yandere donnie x reader #yandere rottmnt #yandere donnie #donatello hamato #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt #donnie x reader #rise donnie #tw stalking #tw yandere #tw kidnapping #rottmnt fanfiction #tmnt donatello #donatello #donnie #donnie tmnt #rottmnt donnie x reader #donnie fanfiction

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shirohige-pirates · 9 months

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Birds of a Feather

CisFem Reader x Marco

CW: Violence, blood, language, adult themes and scenes. 18+ only

Summary: Life has not been kind to you. After a string of bad relationships, you're a little jaded and a little depressed in all honestly. The worst day of your life seems to be the turning point, but the roller coaster ride that follows could either throw you soaring free, or have you caged forever?

Chapter 7: Motor Running

That weekend, and the week after, went by slower than any other week before, as far as you were concerned. You and Marco met for lunch a couple times, but usually he had an appointment, or you had a meeting. Even when you had time enough to share a quick meal, it was indeed a quick meal. You both talked about work more than anything – you had tried to wheedle some details about the date out of him, but he was teasingly tight-lipped on the matter.

None of your time together had been uncomfortable, but aside from kissing the top of your hand at the end of dinner, Marco kept his distance. It wasn’t like he was avoiding you, but you weren’t sure if he wanted to take things slow, or if he was giving you the lead. Kid, and most everyone else you’d dated, were pretty physical.

It wasn’t like you got yanked into a dark corner and slammed against the wall all the time, or that you even needed that level of painfully obvious desire. It was just different from what you had become used to.

But Marco wasn’t in the city just on business. He wasn’t visiting from the ocean’s depths, and he wasn’t loud, or angry, or crass. There was passion there, unmistakably, and it had lit up his eyes more than once since you’d known him.

Maybe he was worried that if he came on too strong, you’d break and run. Whatever the case was, you weren’t going to worry about it for now. You weren’t going anywhere any time soon as it was, especially with your car still in Kid’s care.

Buggy dropped you off at home, and by that, he had the Bubble he’d ordered detour to your place before taking him home. Bon-bon and Ivankov had been taking you home for the most part, and you’d only stayed over at the office one day this past week. You’d taken a couple Bubbles to get into work, and one early morning Sanji gave you a lift.

You were going to be happy to have your car back.

Your phone rang shortly after you got home, and you recognized the shop’s number.

“Hey Red, what’s up?”

There was a short grunt on the other end of the line. “Got the body restored, waiting on a few more parts to come in before she’ll be ready. I called to see if you wanted a different paint job, you little shit.”

You laugh. “Sorry, I couldn’t help it. Hm, a different color…”

“I’m bringing in that long-nose artist to do the actual bird, so don’t worry about sticking with stock colors if you don’t want to.”

“Oh, when’s he coming in?”

“Sunday, it’s a personal project for him, so I’m trying not to tie him up during usual work hours. He should be in around 9am.”

“Hmm… Usopp opens up a lot of options.”

“Heh, he does. Guy’s got a good eye for things, even if he’s a little skittish.”

“Around you Kid, everyone’s a little skittish.”

“You aren’t, calling me by that stupid fuckin’ nickname.” He grumbles.

You grin. “I just don’t have the sense to be afraid of anyone.” He grunts, and you continue. “You remember that blue Killer was using for his welding mask?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you base coat her with that? I want to come by Sunday and talk about options with Usopp, but I know you need to let the base coat set before he starts.”

“Going with a whole different color scheme, huh?”

“The rust and the red went well together,” you muse, chuckling. “But if all the rust is gone, then it’s time for something different, right?”

Kid grunts, but doesn’t say anything.

“Something on your mind?”

He clicks his tongue, grumbles under his breath and then finally lets out a big dramatic sigh. “I feel like I’m the one being replaced.” He finally admits angrily.

“You’ll always be my unreasonable asshole ex-boyfriend turned marginally reasonable asshole best friend.” You say, a playful edge in your voice.

“… I better not be your best friend.”

“I mean, it’s between you and Buggy, and you’re more stable.”

Kid scoffs and laughs. “You’re kind of shit at making friends.”

“Pot and Kettle, I suppose.” You grumble back before laughing along with him.

There’s a beat of silence after you both settle down and Kid sighs a little. “That Vet does anything to hurt you, you tell me.”

“Pfft, I can bring him with me Sunday, maybe, you want to tell him to his face or something?”

“Fuck no. I ain’t gonna let him raise his guard like that!” Kid snaps before huffing. “Shop’s a public place though, I’m not saying he’s barred or anything.”

“Alright, I don’t know what his Sundays are like, but if I need a ride I’ll give you a call.” You say with a smile. “You’ll enjoy getting a look at his car up close, I bet.”

“I don’t need to see the inside of a ’72 SEL.” He grumbles.

“Not even one that’s washed three times a year? That engine was immaculate.” You tease.

“… You’ve been under the hood?”

“Mm, speaking of, if you have some custom hydraulic lifts, the hood lift’s busted. He hasn’t had any luck finding a replacement.” You mention it nonchalantly, but you can hear Kid’s mood shift before he even speaks.

“I’ll see what I have lying around.” He clears his throat. “I could probably make something in the next two days that would work.”

“Metal geek.” You tease.

“Book whore.” He shoots back.

“Greaser guzzler.” You’re barely able to keep yourself from laughing especially when Kid starts to cackle.

“Leaving me low hanging fruit. Ah, but I know, you’re going to end up that Vet’s pet, little mouse.”

“I’m not a mouse,” you insist.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re more like to hunt mice than be one.” You can picture him waving his hand dismissively.

You laugh. “Talk to you later, Kid.”

“Mm, later.”

You end the call and take a moment before you opt to send a text.

You: Sneakers or heels for tomorrow? Also are you available Sunday morning?

You peeled off your work clothes while you waited for a response. A shower before putting together something for dinner seemed like a good idea. You were going to work a couple hours tomorrow, but you’d decided to bring a laptop home vs going into the office. Going over some of the packets while you had breakfast and coffee was a good way to start your morning, and you wouldn’t have to worry about getting caught up at work and losing track of time.

Marco: I’ll show you my emo phase, if you show me yours. 😉

You laugh when you read the response.

You: It was more a punk phase, but sure.

Marco: I’m free Sunday, what’s up?

You: Kid’s getting the base coat down on my old firebird, and I need to go in Sunday to work with the detail artist for the final design and colors. I could use a ride, but Kid and the crew would love to see your SEL. (Also he might have an arm for your hood).

Marco: That’s doable. We can talk about it more tomorrow.

#Birds of a Feather #Marco x reader #x reader #reader insert #marco the phoenix #marco the pinepple #modern au

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gjrain20-starwars · 3 years

Note

Hello! Saw your fanfic ask! I'd love to read a Tech X Reader (she/her) with some angst!

Thank you 😊

Hi, thanks for the request! I hope you like this :)

Request #1 (Blog Open Post): Tech X fem!reader w/ angst

Word count 698 (I can’t even stay in the word limit I posted jksdlajfkslaj)

Repairs and Reconciliation

“Tech! If you weld the two frame plates together that way, you will compromise the frame’s integrity. You’ll need something to stabilize the weld.”

“This is MY ship and I will repair it how I choose. If you don’t like it, when why don’t you just leave!”

You finally just stormed off as everyone else watched, stunned. The two of you just spent most of the repairs nitpicking over each other’s decisions on how to perform the repairs. You walked into the forest nearby, thinking being there alone would distract you. You were fuming and on the verge of tears. Tech never yelled at you before and you always struggled with being yelled at.

“Well maybe I’ll just leave entirely since I’m not good enough for them. Tech wouldn’t care, he’d probably be happy if I just left.” The intrusive thoughts swarmed your mind in droves. “I’m nothing but a burden anyway. How am I supposed to adjust to being with them if I am just a burden.” The tears rolled down your face as you cried. You kept walking through the forest, not sure of where you were going, as long as it was away from Tech.

*****

"Hey Tech, where’s Y/N?” Wrecker inquired. They went to Tech to see if they could find you.

Tech hesitated before just responding: “We were arguing about the repairs. I simply told her if she didn’t like what I was doing with the repairs, she should leave. I didn’t tell her to go into the forest, I simply meant somewhere else on the ship.”

“You told her to LEAVE?” Wrecker shouted. “Don’t you realize how much she admires you? She wanted to help you with the repairs for a reason. She sometimes even stares at you while you work because she is fascinated with your determination and focus. She...”

“What Wrecker is trying to say is that she likes you. It’s really obvious and it’s surprising that you haven’t noticed.” Hunter interrupted before Wrecker could continue.

It all clicked for Tech and he turned red. All the times you sat next to him came back to mind. “That’s why she asked me so many questions! She’s now gone because I told her to go. I am a kriffing idiot.” Tech took off into the forest to look for you.

*****

You were sitting at the base of a tree. The leaves danced in the wind as time passed on. You focused on your breathing, wiped the tears from your eyes, and decided to start walking back to the ship.

“Y/N, there you are!” Tech called out. You were dreading having to talk to him.

“What do you want?” You snapped.

“I wanted to apologize for what happened earlier. I shouldn’t have questioned your expertise in ship repairs. I wasn’t listening and clearly I hurt you.”

“Nice observation.”

“I’m being serious. I clearly made it seem like I didn’t like having you around but I do. I wouldn’t know what to do if something happened to you out here or if you truly left us.”

“Probably what you did before I showed up.”

“Technically that isn’t possible since I didn’t know of your existence then but now I do. I would miss you sitting next to me as I work and asking me about the projects. I would miss... you.”

“Wait, what?”

“I would miss you.”

“You’re joking.”

“Wrecker pointed out how you wanted to help with repairs and sat with me as I worked on stuff...”

“He told you I liked you didn’t he?”

“Well, Hunter finally said it because Wrecker was just going on about the times you made it obvious and I didn’t see it.”

“And you feel the same?”

“Well, I liked having your company even if we argued today. I’ve never had someone feel this way about me and it’s all new.”

You smirked “Well, should we take this slow and do our research before coming to a conclusion?”

Tech chuckled a little. “Why not? It is the logical thing to do!” He winked after that last statement.

The two of you walked back to the Marauder, his hand finding yours on the way.

Notes: Thank you to @brekkers-girl for proofreading this to make sure it sounded right!!

I’ll eventually make a tag list but idk how to make one!

#the bad batch #the bad batch tv show #clone trooper tech #tech x reader #tech x fem!reader

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dagoth-menthol · 3 years

Text

Thinking in the rain

Marius sat in the workshop fidgeting with his pen, while trying to focus on the blueprint in front of him. He tried to work on this project since the finale of the tournament where Eliza and Jaimini had their big fight. Even a rock could see that everyone was more on edge these days, than ever before.

This fight tore apart the whole team Rainbow. Everyone was now subconsciously sorted into seperate teams, each of them supporting either Eliza or Jaimini. It was natural that discussions would be happening and some of them would grow into more heated ones. Gustave and Harry had more work than ever.

For the most part Marius was able to get around the conflicts, but it made him lonely in the process. A precaution he wasn't willing to take, but necessary.

His frustration grew by the minute and there was no way of stopping it.

And that was how time has been for the past month. He never imagined that he could work uninterrupted all by himself in the workshop. At first it was refreshing to work focused on everything, but after a week he grew sick of it.

He missed Dominic dropping by to discuss one of his creations or to just have a chat. And now the prankster wasn't really hanging out as much as he used to.

Monika was also more or less doing her stuff alone. Most of the evenings he would drop by her room and they would discuss her own gadget improvements or her new stories. This reminded him about the last time she read a snippet to him. It ended with a cliffhanger. How will the story proceed further? But now she wasn’t feeling up to writing more.

Now he realised how stressed Elias was lately. Always trying his best to keep the Germans together. Their breaks were always spent together to eat in the mess hall, but now everyone just dropped by, when they felt like it. It was tiring to see how much Elias worked against his team falling apart slowly. He would just like to know the words to console everybody and to get everyone to work with each other as they did before. But how could he do that, when he didn't know how to help himself?

Marius was frustrated, these thoughts were circling in his head all the time when he started to work on his Magpies or on any other side project. They kept him from being productive. And many of the usual suspects in the workshop realized that this man had his head more in the clouds.

When he figured that it was impossible to concentrate on his project anymore, he got up from his chair in the workshop and decided to go for a walk. See what the others have been up to. So he walked around the workshop to look at the projects of the ones who were there at the moment. Only Shuhrat and Mark were, both of them focused on their work and not caring about Marius taking a look at their stuff.

Since he didn't want to disturb their concentration, he silently got out of the workshop.

As he got outside, it was as if he was finally coming out of the water. The air in the workshop was so heavy of all the metallic stenches from furious welding and soldering and any other chemicals that were used during their creative processes. Now the engineer was greeted by the smells of nature.

Body stiff from all sitting in the wrong position while tinkering, made it crack at any movement. In order to get his body into a better shape, he decided to take a small walk outside. Also he befriended the idea of skipping his workshop projects in the evening, because he didn't want to exhaust himself because of the upcoming squad training the next morning. He knew himself so well that he could anticipate that if it weren't for the training, he'd stay there to tinker into the night.

It was a relief for him to finally be out of the tight space in the workshop, allowing himself some time to breath and settle his mind. So, he briefly went inside again to get himself a chair and a cold drink for sitting outside. Surely he seemed to be at peace for an outsider, but it was quite the contrary for him. The thought of their practice tomorrow made him a bit anxious. Who knows what they would be fighting over again? People are stressed and there was no way he could see to stop those tensions. His best option was to lay low, was it?

____________

The next morning came faster than anticipated. Being outside for so long, mulling over everything and nothing left him quite exhausted the following day.

Tiredly he moved his body to get his morning coffee and decided to not eat, since stressing himself with sports and having a full stomach didn’t sit well with him. Also the engineer felt a bit nauseous when he woke up.

The German quarters were already deserted, so he figured they had gone to eat breakfast in the mess hall. But they obviously chose to not wake him. Or maybe they tried, but he was still in a deep slumber. Yeah, that sounded more likely.

Still, or already exhausted, he walked to the mess hall by himself. As he finally reached the mess hall, it was already quite empty. What time was it anyways?

The clock said 9 am sharp. He better hurry and eat his breakfast. After he wolfed it down, he left with the last ones to go to the training exercise. They had a rough day ahead that included many exercises and mock missions.

______________

Fuck them honestly. FUCK. THEM. Marius threw his helmet to the ground in anger, right beneath the feet of his team. He was so sick of everyone. Apparently it was his fault. Sure. His ADSs were the only gadgets that were protecting him, Dominic and Alexandr, who were the only three being "alive" to begin with. And if it wouldn't have been for Shuhrat who was the only one left on his team. Then they made the mistake of staying in the same room. And then they lost. Death by Matryoshka.

Rookie mistake. Apparently one of Marius' Magpies had been destroyed already, so there was no way in hell that they could have protected them all at that moment. But sure. It was all his fault…

Dominic and Alexandr were now arguing loudly about how and why they had failed against one single opponent. Meanwhile Marius calmed a bit down from his outburst and collected his helmet. It didn't mean that he wasn't angry anymore, but not in the mood to jump at everyone's throats at least.

Angry because of the accusations against him, he went out of the training area by himself. On his way back to the facilities, he made a stop and went outside for a bit. He hadn't realized that it was already this dark out. Sadly the stars were covered by thick clouds, preventing even the moonlight from shining through. Time flies when you are not having fun and work endlessly without any long pauses to even get a glimpse of boredom.

The exhausted engineer put his helmet lazily under his arm and just looked at the sky.

It was raining. Nothing unusual for England. The droplets were running down his face, cooling down his temper even more. Easing all the tension that was built up inside him.

He allowed his thoughts to drift away.

Why was he here? What led up to it?

Easy to answer? No, not really.

But there was something else that dawned on him that his subconscious tried to tell him, it was only the right question that needed to be asked.

Why was it here? What led up to it?

Easy to answer? Yes, with certainty.

First it started with a Big Bang and lots of dust began to expand through the universe. Masses formed that led to other masses forming around them. Like our own star system. The sun has the biggest mass and the planets have the smaller masses. The planets circle around the sun in an endless dance.

As the planets formed, so did their surfaces. Earth's surface was rugged, dangerous and ever changing. Volcanoes spurt out their lava and caused the air to become toxic due to all the emitted smoke clouds from these eruptions. Over millions of years Earth stayed this angry and uninhabitable place.

For millions of years it rained and smoothed Earth's features. Only by cooling the surface, it was possible for the oceans to form. Calming Earth down was the inevitable step to create life and let it prosper. First it was the bacteria that could survive on its own, feeding from the Black Smoker. Later, the first bacteria came to life and made Earth like it is today. The air is breathable, not only for small bacteria, but also for bigger organisms that need air to breath.

Countless species have formed and wander the Earth.

One of them is Marius.

The one who was standing outside of Hereford's training area, soaking wet from all the rain and thought about the miracle of life.

A hand was placed onto his right shoulder. As adrenalin started to rush at lightning speed, he turned around quickly, almost losing his helmet already.

"I called out to you a few times. What were you thinking about for so long?" Asked Shuhrat. His voice sounded even more concerned than his worried eyes, the only part not being obscured by the balaclava he wore under his helmet.

"Uhm… the miracle of life. How life came to be on this rock that was flying through space."

There was silence. Both were standing next to each other, each of them back into their own minds, staring at the sky. Rain falling onto their clothes was the only sound they could hear.

The wind picked up and it became quite uncomfortable in the now soaked clothing.

"Why are you thinking about all that anyways?" Shuhrat asked after a while.

"I try to understand why it happened. I am not one to lose my cool that easily. Did you realize that everyone is more on edge than usual? You know, everything feels so connected."

"How so? Why think about the creation of the world, when your problems in that sense lie way more in the present?"

That made Marius think for a bit. Not because he didn't know the reason, but how to describe it to be understandable. In his mind it made all sense, but would it for his friend?

"You know. Earth in her beginnings was full of volcanoes. Like our problem. Imagine Team Rainbow as our many volcanoes. Each of them erupts at the slightest stress. And it is not even me, who snaps, but many others. And I don't know why and how to make it all like it used to be..."

"Do you think there is something that could help?"

"The rain. Rain caused life to prosper, so when we get out of this kind of crisis, maybe we are able to be even greater and better than before?"

That got a thoughtful hum as an answer. Shuhrat being as engulfed in that thought as his friend. Both were standing there silently again, but now it felt like it could all be better again. The hope that they get over this was a pleasant and warming thought. It wasn't that cold now, since they stepped inside, so they remained there and enjoyed the light rain.

Note:

This work is part of the for the writer artist pairup and based on Dorka's artwork that can find under this link: https://twitter.com/_freedert/status/1422107021785149440?s=20

It was a pleasure to work take part in the event and I hope that you enjoy what I wrote!

Speaking of writing, thank you very much @titan-wolfdog for beta-reading!!! (I am so sorry that this was quite a mess haha)

#rainbow six siege #marius #jäger #shuhrat #fuze

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ironmandeficiency · 4 years

Text

the game

pairing: wrecker / reader

word count: 2007

summary: when the bad batch’s resident loudmouth suddenly begins to tone himself down, his brothers are rightfully suspicious.

request: “ Hiiiii! Could you please write something for Wrecker with him and reader having a bit of a kissy sesh and the others boys walk in on them? Thank you lmao I love ur writing ❣️”

a/n: a bit steamy!!! like idk how this got away from me but i’m sorry if this is too heated, anon!!! i guess i’m just thirsty and my brain went on autopilot. but can you blame me?? it’s wrecker we’re talking about!!

the havoc marauder touched down onto the base’s landing platform with a gentleness the ship only knew when you were piloting. you had been assigned to work with clone force 99 as their pilot after one too many close calls with other ships (and one ship they absolutely decimated by landing on top of it). said ship was yours, which was all the more uncanny when you received the orders to join them less than an hour later. you were trading a ship for a ship, essentially, with a few crew members included as a bonus gift.

there were days where you doubted whether crosshair could really be considered a gift but that was to be expected; the talking toothpick that mauled its brethren wasn’t exactly a ray of kriffin’ sunshine, you learned that early on. but he was practical and reliable, and him not eviscerating you for using his mug that one time made him okay in your book.

it took varying amounts of time for the team to warm up to you, which didn’t surprise you in the least. wrecker had been the first to grow used to (and appreciate) your presence on their/your ship - turns out your proficient flying was helpful in bringing the weapons specialist a bit more ease about heights. he seemed to open up after that and you were pleasantly surprised at the man he was behind the armor and gung ho attitude.

turns out he really liked animals, and the times he’d try to pet them were some of the only times you’d heard him whisper and move like molasses in the winter. his voice would turn soft and soothing as his hand would nearly obscure a porg from view while petting it, talking to the creature and taking it satisfied mewls as replies. the man nearly cried when he had the opportunity to watch two baby blurrgs hatch, the baby lizards imprinting on him when he was the first creature they had seen with fresh eyes (your heart broke for him when he failed to vouch for the creatures to become their mascots, hunter accompanying him to take them to a nearby village where there was a teary goodbye).

his affection for animals, funny enough, didn’t extend towards bugs. you learned this when he shrieked like an aiwha at a spider with a body barely the size of his thumb nail in the middle of the sleep cycle. everyone else had been too frustrated at him to do something about the arachnid so you had to be the one to trap it and release it outside.

wrecker was interesting alright.

so much so that after several months alongside the bad batch, you found yourself infatuated with the gentle giant in a manner you didn’t expect.

this infatuation led to months of stolen moments in random republic base supply closets (the few that could actually comfortably fit the two of you) and on planets you could only recall by what surface wrecker would press you against while his lips ravished yours. it also paved the way for the creation of a game on your end. wrecker wasn’t the biggest fan of the rules of the game, but he sure as hell did enjoy the reward he got if he won.

the rules were simple: if wrecker was able to refrain from making more than two references to a time he blew something up, to the ever-present desire of his to blow something up, or lament a lack of explosions, you’d give him a reward. now you knew this was difficult for him, not talking about his love for explosions and pyromania, so you played this game sparingly.

plus, the others were getting suspicious. you could tell by the way they had become the ones that brought up occasions for blowin’ shit up and expectant eyes when stealth missions were announced. they’d wait for him to complain about the required silence or make his yearning for fire and destruction known and raise eyebrows when their vod would shrug the words off.

you could tell it was almost cruel, but you were always sure to make his restraint well worth the struggle.

they had just finished another mission, everything going off with, for lack of a better word, a bang. it was strangely quiet within the bad batch’s comms when the outpost they took over had gone up in billowing flames and projectile shards of infrastructure, the inferno being one of epic proportions. but wrecker had remembered that the day before you’d promised him a quite pleasant reward if he played well.

he hoped to the gods that tech had gotten a good shot in his mission footage because it deserved wrecker’s full appreciation that he couldn’t give in the moment. times like this he despised that stupid game, but he had to admit that it made the anticipation that much stronger when he was finally alone with you.

wrecker barely focused on hunter’s post-mission spiel about something or another, favoring a glance at the cockpit where you were chatting with tech. his kih’vod seemed worried about something, which was normal, this was tech. but then his vod pulled up a holovid and you can see your eyes widen in shock and awe. most likely the blast footage from only hours before.

when tech showed you the epic blast that sent mayhem through the seppie troops, you felt guilty for starting the game the previous morning. wrecker would have loved to yell and celebrate a blast like that! there’d never actually been a time that the game went awry up until today, the explosions usually saving themselves for moments that the game wasn’t a deciding factor in your not-sleeping arrangements. this round’s reward would have to make it worth not celebrating the blast, worth more.

the post-mission routine was one you’d been doing for a while, wrecker waiting until his brothers were asleep (or otherwise distracted) before coming into the cockpit with you for some time to just be together. he’d usually remove you from the pilot’s chair, sit himself in it, and pull you onto his lap and hold you. being close to you was something he enjoyed and he would insert himself into your space however he could. it gave way to the best cuddling that you’d ever had the pleasure to experience in your life and a sense of safety like no other.

today, however, wrecker was impatient. the minute he was on board, he wanted nothing more than to barrel his way into the cockpit and show you just how frustrated he was about not celebrating the epic blast. there was a brief protest somewhere in his brain about getting caught by his brothers but wrecker didn’t care. he almost didn’t wait for tech to leave your side and for cross and hunter to disappear into their own parts of the ship before approaching you.

you heard his heavy footfalls reverberate off the durasteel and steeled yourself as the doors whooshed shut. you knew he’d be coming to claim part of his reward, but so soon? this was risky. there was barely time to turn on the ship’s autopilot before wrecker spun the pilot’s chair harshly toward him, pulling you away from the controls.

“do you have any idea what you do to me, cyare?” his voice was teetering back and forth between a growl and a whisper, sending chills through your body. “little gods, it took so much control to keep from shouting at the top of my lungs back there, and for what?” his hands slid between your ass and the chair, lifting you into his arms before plopping himself into the seat you formerly occupied. he maneuvered your legs to straddle him, keeping one of them on your ass and moving the other to the back of your neck.

this was a side to wrecker you’d never seen before, and holy karking hells you were loving it.

you brought your hands to either side of his face, thumb gently stroking the scar tissue near his cybernetic eye the way you know he enjoys. he was hungry, starving, and you weren’t one to deprive a man in need. your forehead pressed against his, eyes locking.

“i’ll show you what for,” you slammed your lips into his and ground yourself against his codpiece, the hand on your ass gripping hard in response. this was heaven, you were sure of it. wrecker’s muscles were tensing and relaxing under you and you could feel every bit of it.

he slid his hands to your hips and guided your movements, relinquishing control of the kiss as he moved your pliant body against him. the pace was rough and you both were capturing moans on your lips with no real effort put behind trying to contain them.

hunter’s nose wrinkled in response to the echoes of something familiar. for weeks he’s been trying to pinpoint the source of a scent he was unfamiliar with, only being able to catch its lingering presence. but now, it was hitting him full force and it was strong. setting down the blade he’d been sharpening, he emerged from the bunks and it only got stronger from there.

“is everything alright?” tech wasn’t looking up from whatever project had captured his attention, presumably seeing the twisted look on hunter’s face from the reflection of the shiny durasteel he was welding to whatever.

hunter shook his head. he’d questioned their youngest vod about possible sources of the scent and he’d had the same luck as him with discovering the source, also known as none. before hunter could bring up the elusive smell that confounded his nose, he was cut off by a noise from the cockpit.

why was the door shut? you normally left it open because the intercom system was terrible and you preferred shouting over the incessant crackling.

tech seemed to notice this abnormality as well, presumably having the same thoughts about why it was so strange.

“should we-”

“yeah, let’s check.”

both men make their way to the doors to the cockpit and hunter’s head is swimming. that damned scent was taking over his mind and it took him a few seconds before he could activate the door controls.

the whooshing of the doors carried the scent, now full-force, straight into the sargent and all but turned his brain into goop. then his eyes registered what exactly was happening in front of him. tech’s shocked/offended gasp wasn’t enough to snap you and wrecker out of your reverie, which would have been far more amusing if the mix of yours and wrecker’s pheromones wasn’t making his insides into soup.

crosshair had ventured up front to see what had tech so flustered, the sniper nearly choking on his toothpick at the sight of their pilot grinding on wrecker’s lap. the choking was what brought the two of you out of the hazy cloud of lust that permeated through the cockpit.

no one said anything for a long moment. what was there to say, really?

“don’t snap ‘em in half, wreck. i’ve gotten too used to not crashing in this damned thing.” crosshair turned and left the doorway. that was the closest crosshair has ever come to complimenting you, and you would have been a bit more focused on the achievement if wrecker wasn’t under you.

hunter snickered at the comment and had to hide his laughter at the fact that despite being walked in on, neither of you removed yourselves from the other’s hold. you had the decency to stop kissing now that you knew that you were found out, thank the maker.

should hunter feel bad for the strong urge he has to forget this ever happened? eh, cody’s probably got that visor on his gear to block out the bullshit his jedi gets up to, so no. hunter doesn’t feel bad about forgetting this and doesn’t think he could.

“just don’t crash the ship or leave a mess, that’s all i ask.”

#wrecker x reader #star wars reader insert #star wars fanfic #star wars imagines #star wars the clone wars #star wars #the bad batch #clone force 99 #the bad batch x reader #jj writes requests #clone trooper x reader #sergeant hunter #crosshair #tech #clone trooper imagines #clone trooper imagine #wrecker #hunter #jj writes things

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

Text

Humans are Space Orcs, “The Dragon.”

This is it everyone, the moment you have all been waiting for!

If you are disappointing with how it turns out please read my explanation at the end, and I think you will understand why I did what I did. Come to the discord server, which I will be on all day, and talk to me cordially as well. I encourage you to do so.

https://discord.gg/6RTbtSq

He rubbed at his temples with the heel of his hands. Today had been a long and exhausting day. Looking down at his implant he could see that it wasn’t even five yet, and he blew out a big gust of air, which morphed itself into a long, drawn-out sigh.

He wasn’t tired because he was working harder.

Arguably he was actually doing less work now that he had delegated most of his old duties back to the crew, where they belonged.

No, today had been exhausting as he tried to control himself.

Finally, learning to let go and trust others to manage things was turning out to be harder for him than he had thought. He had never seen himself as someone who had a control problem; he liked doing dangerous out of control things too much for that, but it seemed as if he had found a way to be both types of person.

He trailed his fingers down the side of the hallway as he headed down towards engineering.

He needed a break.

He needed a friend, someone he could talk to.

Fewer duties had also meant that he had more time to think, and more time to think meant more time to brood on this last year and all the insanity that had come with it. It was almost hard to believe it had been a year and not an entire lifetime.

He reached out a hand grabbing onto the rungs of the ladder, sliding down in a way he thought pretty badass before turning into the dim interior. It had taken him weeks to memorize the engineering deck because, despite being engineers, these guys apparently had no sense of organization.

He cut past rooms and shelves and crates full of spare parts and took one last set of narrow stairs down into an auxiliary set of rooms.

From here, he could hear the clattering of metal and the sharp huff of a welding torch.

He stepped down the last set of steps and leaned against the entryway arms crossed over his chest.

He stayed quiet not wanting to disturb her while she was working.

Sunny sat at her work bench surrounded by tools and racks of weaponry.

Her face and eyes were covered by a large welding mask which cast the reflection of sparks back across the room and towards where he stood.

He smiled a little as he watched. Her hands moved with the quick lithe movements of a professional as she worked to bring her next piece of weaponry to life. Her feet were steady on the deck floor and every arm was held perfectly still as she worked. He couldn’t see her face, but from the lines of her body told the story of someone in deep focused concentration.

He continued to smile.

Jupiter, how he admired that in her.

He wasn’t good with building things, in fact he could barely put his mechanical pencil back together without an instruction manual.

Looking around at the walls and ceiling he was, once again, impressed at her talent. There was so much cool stuff here he wouldn’t know where to begin asking about it. Large blueprints and concept drawings lined the wall from top to bottom on one side glowing a dull blue under the dim overhead lights.

He turned his head back to watch her, the deft way in which she used the tools, the slow shift of her weight as she moved about the object, the cold calculated pauses in between.

Like watching someone blow glass or preform a dance.

He was so focused on watching that he barely noticed when the mask came off.

“How long have you been standing there?”

He nearly jumped out of his skin coming face to face with those sharp golden eyes.

Smiling, he rubbed the back of his neck, “Only a few minutes. I didn’t want to interrupt anything.”

She sat down at her bench turning the piece over and over in her hands as she decided what to do next, “Haven’t I told you that you have a free pass to interrupt me any time you like.”

“Just because you said I could doesn’t mean it’s polite.”

“I think we are past niceties.”

He snorted and stepped down into her little shop turning in a wide circle to stare up at the walls and the racks of weapons, “This is awesome! Don’t see why I don’t come down here more.”

“Generally you’re too busy micromanaging people.”

They both laughed.

“Fair enough.” He turned to look at her, “No music?”

She turned and motioned to the green headphones sitting behind her on the work bench, “Can’t wear them when I’m welding.”

“Oh, right.”

He stepped down the line of racked weapons delicately choosing a spear from the wall. It was one of Sunny’s shorter models, likely meant for herself, and almost too big for him to handle at all, still he spun it absently between his fingers. Feeling the weight as he snapped it up palm down, the shaft of the weapon running the length of his arm.

She watched him, “You like?”

“Good balance, a bit big on me though.” He set it back against the rack.

“Try this one.” She said, and he turned catching the spear from midair as she tossed it to him. The weight was familiar, the length was good, “Wanted to get you something better than that stick you were using back on Anin.”

“Hey that stick saved my life.” He pointed out stroking the pad of his thumb up the weapon, “You made this? For me?”

“Of course. Can’t have you using inferior weaponry.”

He looked down at the shaft of the spear, and the lovingly carved edges, the sharp point forged from Drev obsidian. The sharpest material in the known galaxy. The smile that caught his face could have broken it. You knew a Drev cared about you when they started giving you weapons. Hijan had taught him that.

She watched him as he tested the spear spinning it, jabbing with it, and all around being a jackass.

Once done, he set it base down on the ground, “Your best work yet.”

She lifted her head in that way Drev have when they are pleased before turning back to her work. He watched her for a while rolling the spear shaft between his thumb and pointer finger.

He turned towards the wall and sighed.

Sunny looked up, “Everything alright?”

He stood shoulders hunched, and she waited, “You ever think about the passage of time. About getting older?”

“Not really, why?”

He shrugged, “Guess I’ve just been thinking a lot lately.”

“Don’t strain yourself.”

“A ha funny.” She snorted, but he kept going, “Guess I sort of just saw my life having gone a bit further by now?”

“What do you mean?”

He picked up another spear examining the tip, “Well, for one, I had sort of hoped I’d be better at dating by now.”

“You’re looking for someone: a battle partner?”

“At least thinking about looking.”

He turned to look at her, and she had set aside her project. Two of her elbows were resting against the table, and she leaned her chin against her hands. Her head was lightly cocked, “And what are you looking for in a battle partner?”

He shrugged and turned his head back to the wall where all of Sunny’s engineering projects hug. Guns and spears and tons of things he would never have been able to create in a million years, “Well for one I would like her to be smarter than me, preferably. I’ve always admired smart people.” Sunny nodded having moved from where she was sitting by the wall and instead standing by her work bench spinning a spear between her fingers, “Someone athletic who could totally kick my ass.” He rubbed the back of his head, “Someone who is going to put up with how much I suck sometimes, preferably pretty nerdy if she can manage, or might at least pretend. Someone Funny maybe. Someone cool with traveling the universe.”

Sunny watched him from the side of the room where she was now leaning back against her work bench.

“Someone who will have my back in either in an argument or a fight. I would like someone to watch movies with and who listens to similar music. Someone who isn’t afraid to tell me when I’m being a moron and call me out on my shit. Someone who understand, and won’t judge my past or have a problem with it. Someone where we can both work on each other’s problems together.”

He turned in a short circle staring up at the ceiling. “I want …. I don’t know.”

Sunny tapped her fingers against the work bench her head lowered. The brow was raised over one of her golden eyes, “So you want what we have.”

The room went dead quiet as he stared at her, and she calmly stared back.

He stammered for a second, “I mean yes, but…. no”

Sunny had her head tilted at him still staring. His heart hammered against his rib cage. Blood rushed to his face. What the fuck was he saying?

“Come on, Adam-”

“Well I...” He paused and quickly glanced down at his implant, “Aw shit, I have to get back to work, my break is over.” He turned on his heel.

“Adam.”

He waled up the stairs.

“Adam!”

A thin line of sweat trickled down his back as he made it into the hallway and jogged down the length of the engineering bay climbing the ladder to the next light.

He wiped sweat from his forehead as he walked down the hallway and towards the docking bay.

His crew greeted him as he passed, and he gave them all weak smiles as he made his way into the next room. He could see scientists preparing to send a camera down towards the black hole. It would break soon enough, but it couldn’t hurt to see how close they could actually get.

He walked past them and towards the hanger where a line of jets were docked. He headed towards the end where the F-90 darkfire sat waiting. He shooed off the crew.

This is something he could handle by himself.

He walked up to the jet placing a hand on the side. His jet.

He glanced over his shoulder and quickly walked back behind the landing gear.

He rested his head against the cold mental

Just a few seconds and something else to think about, and he would be ok. He looked the jet over from top to bottom trying to occupy his mind with a menial task, so he wouldn't have to think but the thinking just got worse.

Thoughts that he had kept shoved into the back of his mind for a long time came bubbling to the surface.

And he realized.

He HAD been describing their relationship.

He had described Sunny to her face.

Internally he was groaning.

But how could he argue, she was the perfect girl, everything about her was perfect aside from.

From

From the fact she wasn’t human?

That was when another part of his brain joined the horrible conversation, the one that was making his chest tighten and his throat constrict, and his hands shake.

What was wrong with her not being human?

Why did that matter?

Because

Because why?

Around him the docking bay had mostly emptied, leaving him alone with the jet and his own horrific thoughts. He slammed his head against the side of the jet with a dull thud. Stop thinking, stop thinking, stop thinking.

Give one good reason?

Shut up

HE stepped back from the jet finding he had nothing else to do.

Stop thinking.

He turned towards the cargo bay door, and stepped back in shock.

Sunny glowered at him marching up the length of the docking bay two spears held at her sides.

He stepped back as she marched forward her golden eyes boring into him like an automated targeting system. She walked like the terminator had taken her over and was intent on ripping him in half.

He stepped back bumping into the jet, stuck in place.

She stopped before him, “I call bullshit.”

“You.”

“No shut up, I call bullshit, and I can prove why.” She lifted her hand and tossed the spear onto the floor where it rolled and bumped into the toes of his boots. He looked down.

She stepped back whipping her spear around legs bent holding the point down and back behind her, “Pick up the spear Adam.”

“Sunny I.”

“Shut up and pick up the spear.”

He reached down fingers wrapping around the cold metal standing and holding the spear loose in one hand like he had been taught.

She crouched lower, “Now fight me.”

“What.”

“You heard me.”

His heart pounded eyes widening, “Sunny, you arent-”

“No dumbass that's Unarmed combat.”

He felt heat rise to his face, “Oh, right.” He spun the spear and began to circle. What other choice did he have?

“She charged forward, and he ducked spinning past the leaf blade of her spear. She spun back and he dodged out of the way spinning sideways into anther low crouch, “I’m sick and tired of dancing around, Adam. I have to know.”

“Have to know what?”

“Stop playing dumb I know you’re not an idiot.” He dodged back swaying out of reach of her next attack before darting in. She cut out of the way., “You have what you want, you have me, so what’s the problem?”

He ducked under a blow and caught her second on the shaft of his spear grunting with the force as he slid back across the metal floor. The steel of spear on spear rang through the cargo bay, “I….”

“Is it because I’m not human?”

He backed up.

Panting he skipped to the side, “You know I support the LFIL, but I’m not attracted to aliens.”

He yelped in shock and pain as the spear came in contact with his shins knocking him off his feet and onto the floor. He rolled to the side as the spear slammed into the ground, and he went rolling to the side leaping to his feet not so far off.

“Name the last HUMAN.” You were attracted to

He opened his mouth to speak but found nothing…. He racked his brain, but no. he stammered.

“Exactly,”

He stepped back spear clattering in sharp ringing sounds as they danced back and forth over the ground. A sort of rhythm formed, and neither of them seemed to be gaining the upper hand.

“We’ve been going like this for months now Adam, and I’m sick and tired of trying to figure it out.”

He gritted his teeth batting away her spear once and then twice.

“I don’t know! I…”

He felt the frustration spilling out of him, an emotion he had been holding onto for a while now.

“Just tell me! So I don’t have to spend so much time worrying!”

“I can’t!” He spat in frustration their blows growing harder and harder and louder and louder. He spun the spear and cracked her across one hip. She staggered sideways but immediately caught him after that

“Why not!”

“Because I don’t know!”

“Well what do you feel.”

His heart was hammering with both nerves and the fight. He lept backwards taking the higher ground as he stood on a group of crates jumping over her spear as she swiped at his feet.

His face was red, “I wish you would stop being so goddamn perfect!”

He was surprised, she was surprised, but she held him off, “Why.”

“Because it makes my life so damn complicated I….” he snarled and leaped from the boxes. She had to cut to the side as he sailed past her landing on the floor and skidding backwards, “I care about you.” He growled

“Than how is that complicated.”

“Because...” His heart was hammering, his throat had constricted. They shared lightning fast attacks neither able to get anywhere until the point where they were standing in the middle of the room both unable to move locked together by the shaft of their spears

“Look at us.” She said, her voice soft, “I know you moves better than you know them, and you know mine. We are perfectly matched, so please before I get any further, you have to tell me.”

Blood roared in his ears his chest was tight, his throat constricted. The tips of his fingers tingled. Adrenaline was laying siege to his insides making his vision go black around the edges. He could barely breathe.

His arms trembled against the weight. Their eyes were locked.

“I.”

She waited.

“I….” His ears echoed, “I feel the same way.”

And then he couldn't anymore he pulled away from her and threw the spear to the ground. With a clatter it went rolling across the deck as he turned away clutching his head in frustration and…. Fear?”

“Are you ok?”

He was definitely not ok.

“So what now. What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know.”

“What can we do?”

“I don’t know.”

“I don’t understand, why won’t you do anything.”

“BECAUSE I DON’T KNOW HOW!”

He turned body slicked with sweat and began climbing the ladder towards the cockpit of the darkfire.

“Adam where are you going!”

“To clear my head!”

He slammed his fist against the side canopy release and clambered inside.

“Adam wait!”

He didn’t, pulling on the helmet and locking the oxygen mask over his face. He flipped up his eyepatch and locked the visor down over his face as the canopy closed. He ordered a detachment from the deck and the plane lurched as red lights began to blink in the docking bay. The jet was routed through a system of rails on the floor and out towards the airlock.

The door shut behind him and the bay was depressurized.

Everything went silent except for the cacophony in his head, and as the doors opened he burst from the airlock slammed back against his seat as he went roaring into space. He turned the plane left as, outside his right window, he could see the roiling mass of the black hole and its glowing white event accretion disk. The side of the ship was lit with its bright white light, and he turned traveling away from the supermassive black hole.

Inside the mask his breathing was heavy.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” he screamed silent inside the cockpit.

He was an idiot!

He couldn't go a single fucking week without doing something stupid. Getting in the cockpit of n F-90 without a flight suit, without a space suit, and all while upset. Mother fucker why was he so dumb! Why was he such a raging child.

He slowed the jet a bit coasting through the darkness to feel the distant vibration of the engines.

They had crested the side of a large gaseous nebula, and he leaned back in his seat. He needed to calm down and the jet was helping some. He just had to go slow, and yes were his actions poorly thought out, definitely, but they hadn’t put anyone in danger but himself.

He was still human and prone to freaking out, and it’s not like he wasn’t entitled to that.

He took a deep breath.

It was how he was going to deal with it from this point on that would prove whether he learned anything over the past month.

He took another deep breath and slowly turned the jet in a wide circle.

First thing was first.

He needed to admit to himself what had just happened….

And what was that exactly?

Easy.

….

He was…. In love with his best friend, and he didn’t know how to face it, or deal with it, and he could barely acknowledge it.

Things were going to change and that scared him.

Breathe, nice and easy.

He didn’t want to go back and face her, or anyone, and maybe once upon a time he wouldn't have, but he was, at the end of the day, the commander, and he needed to command, if not the ship than at least himself.

He wasn’t going to keep dong this, and that meant returning to the ship right now.

Something moved out of the corner of his eye.

He slowed the jet. Turning his head to look out the canopy. The nebulae to the side of him shifted and billowed.

That was… very strange. This was space, things didn’t move unless something…. Moved them, and since there were no wind currents.

He was about prepared to go in after it when he stopped himself. No, not this time. This time he would do it the right way.

He engaged his comm, “Harbinger this is Alpha 1 do you copy.”

“Copy Alpha 1, are you alright, over”

“Harbinger, I am fine, but I am seeing something really weird.” he gave his coordinates, “Can you get any radar reading off of that.”

There Was a pause in conversation as he continued to watch the cloud billow. He thought he saw something hard and sharp protrude from the mist before fading back.

“Alpha 1 standby, we are picking up…. Something in that area,”

He squinted out at the darkness and thought he saw the dust cloud before him light up and then fade as if illuminated from within.

He fired the wing thrusters and pulled the jet to a standstill, or the point where he was only getting a couple of inches of drift.

“Harbinger send out a scouting squad on my six see if we can’t get a closer look.”

“Copy, preparing Bravo flight team over, out.”

He let the line idle as he squinted towards the dust cloud. He would have liked to get closer but knew he shouldn't. He had been more than reckless enough for one day. The cloud continued to billow, and he was sure he could see an inner illumination brightening and then darkening over again.

It was about fifteen minutes before, “Alpha 1 this is bravo team incoming on your position, over.”

“Copy bravo.”

“The other three jets pulled up around him idling on either side. Looking out one window he thought he could see the dim green illumination of someone’s dials.

“You seeing this, straight ahead.”

“Copy that commander, something in the clouds.”

“Yeah…. What is that.”

He adjusted his hand on the stick, “Move in slowly and spread out.”

He took down the middle while the other two rolled to the side. The interior of the jet was getting rather cold, so he allowed the fusion engine to idle as he coasted forward on the wing thrusters.

The light inside the dust cloud was becoming more apparent white but tinted blue.

They were right up to the edge of the dust field now and the occasional puff of dust would erupt from the cloud and dissipate into space. It was strange, this cloud seemed thicker than normal. Most nebula only looked the way they did because it was from a distance, but once inside them it was almost hard to tell, but this one…. Well this one was thick. Thick enough that the particles were being displaced by something.

“Anything.”

“No, the cloud is too thick.”

He rotated the engine downwards and tried floating himself upwards to see if he couldn’t get a better look inching a little more towards the cloud. And that is when it began: a massive mushroom of dust bulged out from the cloud and then erupted outwards, raising his eyes skyward towards the blackness, he watched as a massive shape roast upwards bringing with it a glowing white illumination.

He gasped nearly choking on his own air supply.

The comms were dead silent

The creature continued to rise from the fog its massive head and long neck arching down from the billowing cloud to stare directly into his soul.

There was nothing around him but dead silence, and his face illuminated by the head of the creature staring down at him blue scales glittered in the light above as white light filtered about between the cracks. Its face was regal and predatory crowned with two pointed horns, its eyes glowing softly in the darkness, and it was massive, its head alone was many times larger than his jet.

As he watched the creature arched slowly upwards and then down into the cloud.

A rolling wave of dust passed over his aircraft pushing him back slightly into a slow drift.

He could see a dim shape in the dust, a white illumination. As the dust cleared the creature appeared again.

The scale was unfathomable as it could have wrapped it’s body around the harbinger if it wanted.

Staring in disbelief he watched as it snaked up into the darkness and arched it’s back where two twin tarps of white billowed.

As he watched the strange folds stiffened from graceful billowing tarps and flared out into massive white wing-like structures at its sides. As it did this it began to move forward approaching him and the three idling jets at his back. Around its neck thousands of glittering ribbons undulated and curled, but as he watched the ribbons moved, and he could finally see the other small creature curling around it’s neck its scales shimmering with a soft silver light ribbons trailing from it’s back like a starborn.

The huge creature paused its body slowly curling and uncurling in tight loops as it floated. The blue of its scales undulated and warped like the waves of a great ocean, the light that filtered through the cracks in its scales dimmed and then adjusted as it’s body rolled

Its body stretched high above them and plunged thousands of feet below.

Again it turned it’s head glowing eyes resting back upon the group of three small jets.

Slowly it extended its neck.

The head was bigger even than he had thought before.

Colossal, cosmic.

He felt as if it was staring straight at him.

A god of the stars.

And then with a sound like echoing thunder, his head vibrated with a sound no others could hear, “Deus.”

***

Commander Vir and the three pilots stumbled from the cockpits of their jets and onto the deck. It seemed as if the entire crew had gathered there. All three men were breathing hard white and shell shocked at what they had just seen.

Adam lifted his head stumbling on the last run of the ladder.

His eyes scanned the crowd, falling on where Sunny waited concerned on the edge of the crowd.

He stumbled towards her and to where a good portion of his officers stood.

She caught him by the shoulders.

“Adam what happened?”

“Space dragon.” He muttered

The crew recoiled in surprised confusion.

“What?” Sunny asked confused and concerned.

The other two men behind him nodded, “Space dragon.”

A couple of extra things I wanted to say that you may or may not be interested in.

I want to tell you the strange yet interesting story of how I came to this because it isn’t what you might expect, and you may be interested.

When I first introduced Sunny, she was sort of an, on the spot, creation. I had not thought of her previously, and I really hadn’t thought about her place in all of this. Of course, as she got popular, I kept her on, and she became an integral member of the crew.

Then of course the shipping started the Adam x Sunny hounds.

And honestly I thought it was laughably stupid. Aliens and humans not in any shape or form!

But it did give me an interesting idea that brought on the LFIL. I knew that that is how humanity worked, and I thought it would be an interesting topic to address. I will be honest with you, at first I didn’t personally agree with it. I didn’t think it was right for aliens and humans to be together, but I wanted to represent a side of the argument that I didn’t agree with because that is what good writers do, they represent outside of themselves. So I put Adam close to those people, made their plight sympathetic, and over time I experienced a strange change where I found myself rooting for them. The story didn’t change, but I did.

I know it isn’t a real issue, but it was still fascinating to watch.

Then the shipping started again, and I laughed and rolled my eyes of course people on the internet would do this. I consulted with my roommates, and I was like, you know what for fun I am going to ship tease these bastards for all their worth, but of course Sunny and Adam will never be a thing.

So when I started I intended to make you all suffer and never make this a thing. I remember laughing with my roommates at your speculations telling them about how I had the internet wrapped around my finger.

One thing you should know about me.

I am sick and tired of relationships defining book series. Every other book I have ever written (there are nine of them) none of the characters ever got together except to develop nice friendships. I was so sick and tired of characters being written specifically to be made for each other, to cater to each other’s needs and to fill a role. I hate shipping characters, and I don’t like when they end up together, and that is generally my stance.

So I continued to ship tease, giving you hints that could be something or nothing and planned on backing away eventually. In fact, I planned on never telling you at all, but then as the LFIL arc went on and my teasing grew more malicious, something else happened. You know how I hate characters that are specifically made for romantic relationships? Like the author forces them together despite sharing nothing?

Well by ship teasing these characters so hard and never intending them to be, I created a natural environment that allowed for a realistic, non-forced interest to appear between the two of them. They weren’t made for each other, in fact I was trying to keep them far apart, but it seemed as if I ended up ship teasing myself so hard I accidentally made them naturally perfect for each other.

I ship teased you all so hard that I caught myself, an avid anti-relationship writer into believing it.

I knew for months how I felt, but I didn’t want to do it because of my earlier stated stance, but the more people talked and hounded and the more I spoke with my friends, the more I realized I was going to have to take a stance one way or another. I waffled over it for ages and ages, tried to come up with other satisfying ideas and alternate pathways, but nothing seemed right.

I considered bringing in another female human, but then simply realized I was doing the one thing I hated, and that was creating a character for the sole purpose of being a love interest.

I am a writer who hates to have a cast that is too large, and even this is a bit out of my comfort zone. I don’t want to bring integral characters on this late in the game. If it wasn’t someone on the ship, Adam would never meet someone…. Ever, but unfortunately for me I wrote a character who I think needs someone. In essence, I am not going to write someone for the sole purpose of being a love interest.

Take Adam and Sunny by themselves, and they stand alone because they weren’t written for each other, but somehow it worked.

I know some of you might be disappointed, and I fully understand you, and I am sorry. Any other day, I would be angrily on your side, but not today. Take comfort in the fact that I avidly opposed this from the beginning but am now resigned.

That being said, I don’t know how this is going to turn out, I have no future in mind and I don’t know where it is going to go. It could work and it might not, but one thing is for sure, this isn’t going to be easy, this isn’t over, and you all are going to continue to suffer by my hand.

Also this isn’t a romance novel, this is an action sci fi series about space, and that is what it is going to be about. I REFUSE To let this nastiness take over my plot line!

Furthermore just because you admit you like someone doesn't make you a couple, so lets also make that clear.

Sincerely,

A confused Author who accidentally ship teased myself into a hole and now cannot get out

Sincerely, Sincerely

An author who feels like a grumpy but supportive parent

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queen-of-the-avengers · 4 years

Text

Better Late Than Never

Characters: Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader, Tony Stark, Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: angst, fluff at the end, reunion

Request by anon: Hi there!! Just curious, would you ever make a one shot to the avengers reunion for your story pick a side?

Summary: After years apart from your dad, you come face to face with him. Will he hate you for leaving? Will he resent you even more? Or will he accept you back into his life?

sam’s wings for @star-spangled-bingo

tears of joy for @foundfamilybingo

Part One

Author’s Note: If you have any requests, please send them in! This is unbeta’d and any and all mistakes are all on me.

You’re good at your job, but you’re not that good. You take after your father--working on things building big projects, and always innovating new ideas. You’re not as good as he is, but you try to do your best. Sam managed to break his wings, so you tried fixing it on your own. He gave you enough time to come up with a plan and execute it, but as soon as that time was up, he needed to move on to someone slightly better than you.

After all, you have the Captain America serum in your body, so you’re more useful out in the field than behind a welding mask. Sam needed an expert to fix his wings, and you were slightly offended that it wasn’t going to be you. All he said is that he found someone to do the job, but he never said who. Even Steve, Wanda, and Natasha were very quiet about it, but you kind of brushed it off.

“Give me another chance, okay? I think I can fix it,” you beg Sam as you follow him around the Quinjet.

“Major, you’ve done enough,” he laughs.

“My name is Y/N,” you pout.

“You’re just below Cap. You’re Major.”

“Fine, but you need to give me another chance. I have a better understanding of it now!”

“No.”

You don’t take no for an answer and head over to his wings that are on the table in the middle of the jet. You whip off the blanket that is covering them only to have him drag it back on.

“Sam!”

“I said no. I found a guy.”

“Steve!”

“Y/N, I love you, but you’re a crappy welder and an even more crappy engineer.”

“Language,” you gasp teasingly, and he rolls his eyes slightly.

“We’re approaching our destination,” Natasha calls from the driver’s seat.

“Where are we going?” you ask and bounce to the window.

“Y/N, wait--”

Steve’s warning is cut off when you reach the window. The clouds clear to reveal the new Avengers facility that your dad had built in upstate New York. Your blood runs cold and you freeze in your spot at the thought of running into him. It’s been three years since you two last saw each other--after he made no moe to contact you. The last thing you heard from him was him accusing you of picking Steve’s side because you were “fucking” him.

He’s never made any effort to call you after you left with Steve.

“Y/N, we were going to tell you, but he’s the only one who can fix this,” Steve whispers.

You hear him, but your brain doesn’t register the words that are coming out of his mouth. All you can think about was the fight that happened at the airport in Germany. When you got in line with Steve and his team, your dad gave you the coldest look you’ve ever seen. He was so angry at you for not picking his side that he didn’t care why you did it or what you believed in. All he saw was betrayal, and all you saw was hatred and disappointment.

When the fight started, he tried his best not to fight you because even though he was mad, he didn’t know if he could hurt you. Then, the unthinkable happened. Steve and Bucky were racing to the jet to get to the place where the other winter soldiers were when you stood between them and your dad. He didn’t want to hurt you, but he couldn’t let them get away.

He ended up hurting you in more ways than just physical. Physically, you only had a bruised stomach and some cuts on your face. However, emotionally, there was a gaping hole left in your chest. Your dad saw the damage he did to you and he just left without another word or a glance in your direction. He just took off, and that was the last time you ever saw him.

The months rolled by, and you thought he was going to call you, but he never did. Those months turned to years, and you lost all hope of seeing your dad. It crossed your mind that you should be the one to go after him, but he hurt you a lot more than you hurt him. You couldn’t put yourself through that embarrassment and torture of seeing how you made him disappointed by coming back.

So, you never did.

Fighting with Steve made you happy--at least, that’s what you tell yourself. In reality, it provided you with a distraction long enough to keep thoughts of your dad out of your mind. Then, when the distraction subsided, Steve had already found another case to be on. It’s been a few years, and you’ve been everything related to misery. You miss him so much, but he clearly doesn’t miss you. So, seeing his new Avengers facility brought all those unwanted feelings back to the surface--the ones you tried so hard burying.

“You know, you could have told me,” you sigh and look away from the window.

“I didn’t know how.”

Steve thought about calling Tony plenty of times just to kick his ass into being with you, but he always thought twice about it. You were at a point in your life where you were almost at the peak of getting over it, so he couldn’t possibly let you bring all those feelings back into the light. You were just so sad and you cried almost every night for a long time because all you needed was your dad. He couldn’t give you the comfort you needed, and because there was a small possibility that Tony would reject you once again, he just couldn’t make that call. It breaks his heart to see you so sad.

When Sam’s wings broke, and no one in his group could fix them, he knew that it was time to go see Tony once again. There was no way you would be staying on your own, and he couldn’t think of a good enough reason to keep you away, so you joined them without a hint of where you were going. Ever since the big fight happened, they’ve all been looking at you like you’re going to explode at any given moment. They’ve been hovering to catch you despite you telling them that you’re okay.

But you’re not okay.

How can you just worry everyone like that when there is no fixing it? There is nothing they can do, so why bother them with it in the first place? Everything you’ve ever mashed down inside you started to inflate the minute the Quinjet landed. As soon as the doors opened, you became frozen where you stood. Natasha and Sam left the bird first with his wings in hand, leaving you, Steve, and Wanda left inside.

“I can take away your fear if you want me to,” Wanda whispers.

“No, it’s okay,” you whisper back. “Go on, I’ll be there in a minute.”

All you see is pity on her face, but she leaves your side nonetheless.

“Are you sure you can do this? You don’t have to go in there,” Steve supports.

“I do. He left, not me. I shouldn’t be scared to walk in there, he should be scared that I’m here. Does he know I’m coming?”

“No, I didn’t tell him. I was afraid he would say no to fixing Sam’s wings. Listen, he sounded pretty miserable on the phone. I think he’ll be happy to see you.”

“He was so mad at me,” you remember your last conversation that actually mattered, “like he couldn’t fathom the thought that I would pick your side over his. I just did what I thought was right—I still think that. He always taught me to stand up for what I believe in, and I did just that. I’m just scared he’ll hate me all over again. I don’t think I’ll survive that again.”

“Then stay in here. We’ll be in and out. I promise.”

“I’m sorry,” you sigh sadly.

You look down at the ground just as two tears left your eyes. Steve looks at you, and he just cups your chin with two fingers and lifts your head so you’re staring at him. He wipes the tears away with his thumbs as gently as he can.

“Don’t be. You’re not ready. That’s okay. I have to go inside now, but I promise we will be back before you know it.”

He leans down and kisses you tenderly, keeping it short. The feel of his lips on yours help keep you grounded, and you hold onto that comfort even when he pulls away from you. You keep your eyes closed for a few more minutes as if it would shield you from the fear. If you can’t see your dad’s place, then you’re not really there. However, just as soon as you open them, you miss the comfort from Steve immediately.

Why should you be the one who fears this place? It should be your dad that fears you coming here. He was the one who broke things off with you, so why do you feel like it’s your fault? You’re his daughter, and he is supposed to treat you as such. You’re not one of his friends that pissed him off--he doesn’t get to cut you out of his life like you mean nothing. You’re his fucking daughter; he is supposed to love you no matter what. It’s what a parent does for their children. Yeah, they are supposed to make you mad and get on your nerves, but you don’t get to cut them out of your life like that.

Why should you just stand here while everyone else gets to be inside? Maybe seeing your dad’s new place is giving you the courage you never had. It’s giving you a sense of what’s right and wrong in this situation. Fuck this, you’re not going to wait out here like some scared little girl afraid she is going to get grounded by her dad. You’re an adult, so he can’t punish you anymore--not like this.

You leave the Quinjet and head inside the place, impressed how it turned out. Your dad is an arrogant ass sometimes, but he sure doesn’t know how to build a beautiful building. Jarvis is no longer with your dad, so he had a new system put in place: Friday. The only thing different about her is that she has an Irish accent while Jarvis had a British one. Since your face is known on every server that your dad has, Friday doesn’t announce your presence. Jarvis did that with strangers, and you think that it’s the same thing with Friday.

This place is huge on the inside as much as it is on the outside, but you don’t have any trouble going where you need to go. The main room is close to the entrance of the place, so just as soon as you enter, you hear everyone’s voice come from the room. Despite being angry and pissed at your dad for treating you this way, there is something inside of you--no matter how small--that tells you he is going to hate you when he sees you.

You freeze right before you can turn the corner. The doors are open, so you can hear everything clearly, but you’re completely out of sight. Will he stare at you with disgust and disappointment? Will he yell? Throw you out? Tell you that he never wants to see you again?

“Thanks for doing this, Tony,” Steve says as Sam hands over his wings to the billionaire.

“First time you called in, what, years, and this is what you asked me?” Tony says and glances at Steve.

He noticed immediately that you weren't in the room.

“Is it safe to come home yet?”

“No.”

“Then, yes, it’s what I asked you to do.”

“Where is she?” your dad asks as he inspects the wings.

“Do you care?”

“Do I care? Of course I fucking care, Rogers. How can you ask that?” your dad hisses.

“You haven’t called in, what, years?” Steve throws that comment back in your dad’s face.

“Is she at least here?”

“I’m not going to answer that. What needs to be done is fixing these wings so we can be on our way.”

Tony looks at everyone’s faces and knows immediately what they are saying. You are here, probably on the Quinjet that just flew in, and there is a reason why you’re not coming in. He really fucked up big time. All Tony has ever done for the past few years is regret yelling at you in the first place. All he wants now is his daughter, and you can’t even come inside.

“I’m right here,” you say and reveal yourself.

Hearing your dad ask those questions pushed the doubt to the back of your mind and brought back the courage. Every single person turned to look at you, but you’re only looking at your dad. He seems frozen where he stands, unable to do anything but just look at you. You’re really here no thanks to him. He grips Sam’s wings tightly in his hands, wincing when one of the parts dig into his palm. Feeling that pain brings him back to reality.

He sets the wings on the table right in front of him before marching over to you. You honestly think he is going to yell at you or do something mean, but instead, he just brings you into a tight hug. Your arms immediately wrap around his neck, and you find yourself sinking into his body.

“I missed you so fucing much,” your dad says emotionally.

“I’m so sorry,” you cry into his neck.

He pulls away and makes sure you’re staring into his eyes when he speaks.

“No, you don’t get to be sorry. I’m the one who should be sorry. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have yelled at you or made you feel like what you did was wrong. I’m the one who fucked up. You’re my daughter, and I shouldn’t have ever let you go.”

He brings you back into a hug, and you squeeze him tightly to remind yourself that this is really happening. You look at Steve from over your dad’s shoulder, and he smiles proudly because this is the moment he has been waiting for. This is the moment that should have happened years ago. Well, better late than never is what everyone always says.

You and your dad have grown separately, but it’s time you grow together. You’ve lost precious years without him, and you’re not going to waste another over something stupid like last time.

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cowperviolet · 3 years

Text

For Gods and Gold - mega excerpt

'No one will disturb us here', Mathilde vander Welde says, shutting the door of the library behind her. Her sister’s distraction tactic worked perfectly.

‘‘I hope so, juvrow vander Welde’, Jochem Meier, who came in with her, comments. ‘Otherwise they’ll accuse you of both forfeiting your virtue here with me and of being heartless enough to discuss business on the day of you father’s funeral’.

As often, it’s impossible to say whether his remark is meant as a joke or a serious warning. Mathilde decides in favor of a warning whose absurdity she may laugh about, but whose crux she better heed.

‘This is most like to be the last moment when we can discuss matters in any privacy to speak of’, she says, the terra cotta panels of red and white bright under her feet. ‘As soon as tomorrow’s sun is up, every minute of my life is going to be devoured by my new well-wishers’.

That, and the walls of her house are going to grow many curious ears. She doesn’t spell it out because he understands it, and understands that she does. This is one of the reasons she values his counsel so: his quiet quickness of mind, otherwise veiled of necessity in the presence of those whose fortunes are bigger and lineages purer.

‘What was it you wished to discuss, juvrow vander Welde?’ Jochem Meier asks patiently. His attire, despite the occasion, reflects the same studious understatement as his tone: the black tunic of a minor merchant, the unadorned fingers, the high collar at his neck.

‘I wished to discuss the project of Shashtre, and its future’.

‘It was my understanding that the project is completed. The Armizi dynasty has gained their throne back, thanks to your esteemed father’s generous loan. The only thing left to do seems to be to wring a reduction in tariffs or a monopoly on pepper from Alessandro Armizi before the festive incense clouds his mind too much’.

‘I propose a different strategy, and I need to know if you are going to support it’.

‘I am a man with a stained family name and three wool workshops, juvrow vander Welde. I cannot imagine my support, humble as it is, would matter to you much’, he says drily.

Mathilde sighs inwardly – so, he has probably guessed what it is she thought up. Still, the only way she has now is to soldier on.

‘Father has already made us kingmakers. To use it for a pepper monopoly would be like using Ilerdian silk to wipe these floors. This a chance of a century. I am not going to pass it up’.

‘A chance to do what?’

‘To gain Alessandro Armizi’s trust enough to become, in essence, his own treasurers, the shapers of his kingdom. His court is young. He needs trusted people around him, even if some of them are going to be foreigners. No one on Ilerdian peninsula would be shocked at the notion of a foreigner in such a role, in truth – some states there even choose men from other principalities on purpose, to have someone free from the local factions’.

‘Men from other principalities on the same peninsula; from the states that are heirs to the same broken empire. Not those they perceive to be Northern barbarians’.

Mathilde kneels unceremoniously by a reading seat and narrows her eyes, making out the letters on the book list; ah, the candlelight here is so much dimmer…

Jochem Meier is looking at her almost suspiciously, as if from the pile of heavy, chained tomes she could spring upon him a curse.

She cannot even blame him. Her father had been a known, well-studied figure to him – to everyone - for decades; she, his heiress, is a yet-untested thing, wild as quicksilver.

‘There is so much more at stake’, she whispers, opening a leather volume, wishing her fingertips could become light feathers, unable to harm the treasure beneath. ‘If I succeed – if we succeed – who is to say what we cannot achieve? We could reach Alessandro’s uncle the Great Mowbed, help him manage his affairs. Bankers to the Holy Throne. It doesn’t sound too bad, does it?’ Mathilde smiles radiantly, the way she knows she is prone to when she gets overexcited.

‘The Great Mowbed, the Priest of Priests, His Truthfulness’, Jochem Meier muses, stepping closer to Mathilde and looking over her shoulder. ‘So many hallowed titles, but such a precarious position in the world. I suppose few would question his spiritual authority, but when it comes to the worldly leadership…’

‘He is the master of the capital of the former empire. That doesn’t seem to be the kind of worldly leadership to complain about’. Mathilde opens a page at random - she doesn’t have to seek out a particular illustration; every miniature is exquisite – two armies fight on the field of pale blue snow. One side is stiff in long, luminous chain-mail, the other’s armour is covered by flowing robes of porphyry.

‘Just look at it’, she whispers. ‘Isn’t it worth its weight in gold? It was a stroke of luck that my grandfather managed to find it. This was a part of the series of manuscripts commissioned for the last emperor in Janab – can you imagine? They were stolen, lost, dispersed throughout the peninsula during the wars afterwards. And this one surfaced in Esfan just when grandfather was there bargaining for a saffron consignment – we didn’t have a permanent company there yet. We’ve got the second and the fifth tome here, too, but they are of a later production’.

‘If you are trying to seduce me into supporting your enterprise by dazzling me with the glories of Ilerdian land, I’m afraid it isn’t working, juvrow vander Welde’.

Ah, but Mathilde can hear his voice growing softer.

I am not stupid, she thinks. I know that Janab is long since hollowed out, a place of magnificent ruins. I know that there had been princes holding Great Mowbeds hostage, and even more young dynasties tumbling down. But I want to take this risk. I cannot stop, cannot slink back to the cozy fireside. It is simply not my nature.

‘Think about the recent assassination attempt’, Meier murmurs just above her ear. ‘Can you imagine if it succeeded? With the Armizi Great Mowbed dead, his nephew in Shashtre won’t reign for a day’.

‘But it didn’t succeed. Besides, I thought your version was that the Great Mowbed simply cooked up this story because he wanted to cull the dastwars from the oldest families’.

'My version was that he merely used the situation to cull the mighty old guard in the Circle of Dastwars. It was too big a great stroke of luck, that all five conspirators belonged to it. I never said the actual knives in the dark weren’t genuine’.

The armies are meeting in battle – a graceful, orderly battle of a miniature. Even as the horseman in bright chain-mail slashes across the thighs of a porphyry-clad enemy, one’s attention is drawn more to the fluid lines than to the flowing blood.

‘I have not just called you here to receive your blessing’, Mathilde says, trying her best to keep the exhaustion and the nerves out of her voice. ‘I called you here because I want to entrust a lion’s share of this enterprise to you’. She turns around to face him and whispers: ‘I want you to go to Shashtre as the ambassador of the Republic of Gronsveld’.

This time, Meier does not reply. Finally, he is listening, looking down at her intently.

‘I want you to go’, Mathilde continues, ‘and to represent our interest and the Armizi court as well as the Republic’s. But, most of all, I want you to look out for any dangers to his rule or his life, and inform us about it’.

‘Or deal with them on site, should the situation allow, I take it’.

‘There is no one else, even among people who were loyal to my father, whom I could have trusted to be capable enough to manage it’.

There is also no one else who could be seduced by such a blatant promise of social climbing. The men and women who gathered in her father’s parlour to drink hippocras and discuss the price of fustian have long since climbed the ladder of power – indeed, their great-grandparents did – and would be likely to view such an offer as a dangerous distraction rather than an honour.

Jochem Meier is a different story.

Mathilde continues to smile. She is supposedly asking it of him as favour, not offering it as a gift - she doesn’t want to be seen as someone who secures people’s acquiescence with bribery, least of all by herself.

‘It’s a dangerous favour to ask’, he murmurs, his eyes keen.

Very well.

‘I promise to cover the costs of your embassy if the Chancery would fail to do so’.

‘Which it inevitably will. There only remains a minor question on whether the Council will vote to grant me the embassy’.

She had secured his help. Mathilde lets out a cautious breath.

‘This year’s Council is full of father’s old allies’.

‘They all have their own interests, Mathilde’.

A flush lights up her cheeks.

‘I wonder’, Mathilde says as levelly and lightly as she can, ‘if you used to call my father Walter’.

‘Forgive me, juvrow vander Welde’. A small, servile smile – the smile he could always put on like a cloak – is back on his lips. ‘Doubtless the mourning has addled my brain. That, and the rapture over the honour you’ve promised me’.

Promised. Not given.

Mathilde silently chastises herself for the outburst. The last thing she needs now is alienating her allies. But his slip of a tongue felt like he clutched her already broken arm. So many people, friends and enemies alike, are circling around her now, pillorying her with their stares, whispering about her uncommon youth – at twenty-one, they have all been dutifully gathering experience in the far-flung branches of their families’ banks and firms, not standing at the helm. One thing they are all sure about – some with pity, some with glee, but sure nonetheless – is that she is an easy prey, a lamb to the slaughter. Something much, much lesser than her father.

Her father. For the first time in the evening, the pain of loss clutching at her throat is threatening to overwhelm her and spill over into tears. Her father could have died a hundred times from a conspirator's blade, a rival's poison. But what toppled him was a simple kidney stone.

The surgery went splendidly; the physician priests were, as ever, proud of their ancient expertise. Their prowess made sure the process was quick; their draught eased the patient's suffering. But they had no power over the fevers that could follow, bringing swelling and delirium and deadly, morbid heat.

In death, he had been garbed as ostentatiously as he had rarely been in life, his shoulders swathed in a cape of cloth of gold embroidered with horses. The same animals were engraved on his brooches; the ends were bent - no living man will unclasp or wear them again. One cannot be too careful when seeking Aetrele's goodwill. In life, he prayed to her to ease the passage of his ships over the stormy waters. In death, her fabled horses should aid his final journey, carry him to the pale shores swiftly and soundly.

Mathilde bites her nails into her palms. She’ll weep later, with her sister for company. Right now, she must be her usual self – bright and hunt-ready.

‘Your father used to complain that men in his employ only bother to use double-entry bookkeeping if he is there to threaten them with a metaphorical stick’, Jochem Meier notes. ‘His allies on the Council are only different insomuch that they wear better cloaks’.

‘What are you suggesting?’ Mathilde can guess what he is getting at, but wants to hear it from his lips nonetheless.

‘There is going to be an out-of-time election for meester vander Welde’s vacated place on this year’s Council. I am suggesting that it would be a good use of your time to make sure you are elected to it’.

‘I am too young. They don’t welcome anyone below the age of twenty-five at least on the Council’.

‘They would have no choice if your name is to be drawn from the leather purses. The rule of the chance is the rule of gods, and the rule of gods is sacred’.

Mathilde is not a pure ewe of spring to be ignorant of the grease that kept the Republic’s wheels running. She knows how his father made sure the Council was stacked with his sympathizers this year, and she knows how much it costs to make the keepers of the purses add a certain name thrice, or even read aloud a different name than that on the piece of paper they’ve drawn. Desperate circumstances needed desperate measures.

Still, there is that, and then there is brazenly violating the law and hoping that whatever aura of sanctity still clung to the proceedings would help.

‘I don’t want to start my leadership like this’, Mathilde says. The cold of the onsetting winter is drawing in from the great library windows, and pricking her skin into goosebumps.

‘It’s better than starting it with a defeat’, Jochem Meier responds pragmatically.

Few candles are burning here, and the friezes running along the walls are shrouded in murk. They are depicting the labours and the joys of every season – a simple, understandable topic, requiring no reading and no fine eye to enjoy. They have been commissioned by her grandfather in the days when this room was a bedchamber, not a library; the figures are stylized as dolls of clay, and their colours are cheap hues of the earth.

Behind Mathilde’s back, the first tome of the Song of Emperors in breathing with gold.

This is what her father wanted when involving himself in these great campaigns down in the Ilerdian south, she knows; more than money, more than lucrative contracts. He wanted to bring back home the beauty and the knowledge of the empire that had been great when his homeland was still slumbering in savagery.

Desperate circumstances, Mathilde decides, sometimes need desperate measures indeed.

#writing #amwriting a novel #amwriting lgbt #amwriting fantasy #amwriting novel #amwriting #writeblr #lgbt writers #writeblr community #writers of tumblr #writers on tumblr #creative writing #original writing #writing community #for gods and gold

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detroitbydark · 4 years

Text

Crossed Connections: Interlude VII

Characters: Wrecker/OC

Rating: mature. 18+

Warnings: feelings, oral (male receiving)

Summary: Wrecker and Kellye have a drink and a few things come to the surface.

Word Count: 1800

A/N: so I promised this story wasn’t dead right? Here’s a quick little interlude for our big man and his mechanic. Thanks for waiting around for this. I know it’s been a while.

Previous Parts and Extended Universe can be found here

———

There’s a bottle of Corellian whiskey and two shot glasses between them. The glasses have gone untouched as they’ve opted to go straight to sinking out of the bottle.

Kellye’s cheeks are already flushed a bright pink. Wrecker’s hurt from laughing so hard.

It’s been too long since they’ve done this. The memories of it feel fresh though. So fresh that Wrecker swears he still feels the sickly sweat that would slip down his back and the screams of the night creatures that crept in the shadows.

Memories of nights planetside on Felucia wallowed away with a bottle of booze between them. Functioning with a hangover and minimal sleep. Balancing on an unseen edge and pushing luck that both of them seemed to have in droves.

“I nearly died!” Kellye wheezes out a laugh and Wrecker remembers the incident in question with technicolor clarity.

“You’re being dramatic” he takes another pull from the nearly empty bottle. The whiskey burns all the way down. When he passes it to his companion she frowns in such a pretty way, bottom lip jutting out and brows knitting in confusion, that he loses his train of thought. She wiggles it in her hand once, the dark liquid that remains sloshes around before she places it to her lips and finishes it without a cringe or shudder. She drinks liquor like more of a man than most of the troopers he’s met.

“I came off that wing!” The empty bottle comes down against the durasteel grating of the Havoc Marauder’s floor as the mechanic points to her wing. The pair is sitting, with legs dangling in tandem, at the entrance to the ship. Wrecker glances the way she points, as if he’d suddenly forgotten what their transports wing looked like.

“Still think you’re being dramatic” he hums with a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Kellye lets out an exasperated sound as she shoves playfully at his arm. He doesn’t budge.

“I had a welding mask on and music playing. You don’t get to scare someone when they’re working like that! I came off the kriffing wing!”

Wrecker watches her hands move as she speaks. She’s always been pretty but the alcohol has made the movements looser, her hands looping in the air as she accentuated her point. She’s- she’s light, effervescent- a word he never thought he’d have reason to use. He’d have to thank Tech later.

It’s funny how fixated she is on falling. He’d have never let her get hurt.

He remembers the incident well as she trails off, her shoulder leaning against his as her head comes to rest against his. He liked how she was tall enough to lean against him and lay her head on his shoulder instead of against his arm. Not many women were. He still had a solid 20cm on her but she was as close to his size as any woman he’d ever met.

It had been near the end of the incursion of Felucia when he’d found a bottle of some cheap swill, his luck for finding contraband just as good then as it was now. Tech wasn’t interested. Crosshair even less than that. Hunter was off doing Hunter things.

Wrecker didn’t like to drink alone.

Kellye has won by default and when he’d gone to find her she’d been welding patches along the fuselage of the Marauder. He sat quietly for a solid couple of minutes before he’d barked her name to get her attention. Apparently she hadn’t realized she’d had an audience and the sudden sound had startled her and a wrong step had thrown her off balance. One moment she was perched on high at work and the next she was in his arms. Stepping forward to catch her hadn’t even been a thought. Pure instinct had driven him.

He remembers the feel of her, solid in his arms, her body pressed against his- not as light as air but something more substantial. It felt satisfying holding her close, feeling the way she filled his hands. It lasted all of ten seconds as she’d quickly gotten her bearings about her.

She’d been madder than a rancor, hissing and spitting that he was a menace and had nearly killed her. It wasn’t the first time he’d realized his attraction to her but, Maker be damned, it was certainly the time he realized just how much he liked her outside of that simple physical pull. When she ripped off the welding mask and proceeded to cuss a blue streak at him, cheeks pink and chest heaving, a bead of sweat rolling down her forehead, he’d never been so lost for words in his life. He’d just stared until she’d squirmed and fought him into putting her down. He’d held up the bottle, the lip of it still firmly squeezed between two fingers, and she’d snatched it away. She’d uncorked it with her teeth with the cutest snarl he’d ever seen. After spitting the cork out she’d taken a pull that would have made any hairy chested commando proud.

“I caught ya, Kel. W’never let you fall.” Alcohol buzzes warm in his chest now as he tries to forget what it felt like to have her close. He can feel the deep pull of air she drags in and hear the sigh that flutters out. She sits up and the two drift in silence.

The hanger bay is empty with exception of a handful of astromechs and their human partners buzzing about various projects. It’s nice feeling like they are in their own little world. The Havoc Marauder is off on the far end of the line, nearly forgotten. It’s a good vantage point to watch the comings and goings of the hanger without being at the center of attention.

Wrecker turns his head and flicks at one of her braids with his finger. She swats playfully at his mitt. She does a poor job of stifling a giggle.

“I nearly died you know”

“I told you, I’d never let a pretty girl get hurt on my watch”

“Nice..”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just the pretty ones”

“All girls are pretty… well except for you.” He shrugs before he adds “You’re down right beautiful.”

“And you're too much”

A blond head bobs into the bay catching his attention. Wrecker recognizes her as one of the girls from the supply chain. They’d met up six standard months or so ago while he was on leave. A little high maintenance but they’d had some fun. He’s lost as to what her name was but she smiles and waves with the tips of her fingers when she catches him looking. He offers a wink back.

“Another satisfied customer?” There’s a teasing tone to Kellye’s voice that he should know, he should see as a warning but the liquor is strong and his buzz is good.

“Always leave ‘em with a smile” he laughs, eyes catching her shoulders stiffening as she glances down at her hands. “You know, you're no angel yourself. I seem to remember something about you and an ARC Trooper in a supply closet and-“

“You ever wonder if I wanted to be left with a smile?”

“You?”

“Yeah, me. I’m not thin and leggy like blondie over there and I’m not exotic and beautiful like one of the twi’lek girls at 79’s. I get that. I’m not everyone’s cup of tea-“

“Kellye-“

She acts like she doesn’t hear him, just keeps rolling on.

“Don’t interrupt me when I’m drunk and venting. Kriff! I’m fun to be around. I’m warm. I could tear this ship apart and put it back together with my eyes closed. I’m a great cook. My singing is passable and I love to dance ” she lists off. “Look at me. I’m damn cute. Even if you can’t see it!”

“Are you done?” He asks finally.

“Yes”

“Good. So I can talk now?”

She gives a single nod.

“Fek, Kel I’ve always seen you. Since the first day I laid eyes on ya. There wasn’t much else I could see.”

“Me?”

She can’t be serious, right?

“Yes you. I just didn’t think I was really good for you. I mean, I don’t suppose any soldier or trooper makes a good partner in war time. I don’t know if one day I’m just not gonna come back. I can’t promise I’m gonna be there for important things.”

“You think I’m worried about the future? Fierfek! I’ve never thought about the future-“

“What are you saying Kel?”

“I’m saying, I just want to spend time with you, enjoy it as much as we can and what happens in the future happens.”

Wrecker can’t help but glance out into the hangar bay and note the sudden lack of people milling about. Kellye laughs as she clumsily moves to her feet and uselessly pulls at his pauldron, as if she thought she’d be able to move him without him actually wanting to go.

“What are you doing?”

Kellye laughs again before sobering and batting her eyes innocently, dark lashes fanning across her pink cheeks.

“I just want to show you something.”

——-

The sound of his balled up fist connecting with the durasteel hull nearly makes Kellye jump. She pulls back, looking up at him reproachfully. He stammers out an apology.

“I’m sorry, Kel, please don’t stop. For the love of Fett, don’t stop.” He’s nearly begging. He would too if he didn’t see the roll of her eyes and know that she truly wasn’t going to leave him hanging.

She guides the head of his cock back into her mouth, making a show of the way she has to stretch her jaw to take his girth. He was… proportional and there was a slight burn already beginning in her jaw muscles but his groans and low encouragement was more than enough to keep her going. The flat of her tongue circles his head eliciting a moan so deep she can feel the vibration in her chest. Yeah, this is what she wanted. The big man all to herself.

She’d been truthful. She didn’t want to worry about what the future held she just wanted to spend whatever time they had basking in his attention.

Kellye has no intention of making this a one time deal. While she wasn’t ready to put it out there for him anymore than she already had, Kellye had wanted this for ages. She was gonna get her fill while she could.

Wrecker’s meaty hand wraps around the back of her head, nearly encompassing it. She can’t help the soft sound that rises up in her throat as he applies gentle pressure. She works her mouth further down his shaft and focuses on relaxing to take more of him.

“That’s right baby girl. S’good”

Yeah, and it was only gonna get better.

#star wars #the bad batch #crossed connections #wrecker/oc #clone trooper wrecker

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squirmymochi · 4 years

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Those hcs are good stuff 😔👌 how about Melissa and Mina hcs? (Do you do ships hcs?) Btw i'm the same anon that asked for the Momo and Uraraka ones, lol

Thank you for asking! I’ve never done ship hcs but I can certainly try! & thank you for being patient with my slow replies :)

Melissa

- As an inventor she tends to spend a lot of time in her lab/at her desk/in class/wherever she ends up working, and she usually forgets or ignores her bladder while she’s focused on her work, which leads to her getting desperate way too often

- Her bladder is actually pretty big, but she also drinks a lot. Her other family members tend to bring her fresh tea while she’s working so she ends up drinking a few cups without stopping to take a break, and the caffeine does what it does and she gets desperate in the middle of a project

- Usually by the time she notices she needs to go she’s halfway through welding something, or in the middle of an extremely important design she wants to get on paper before she forgets it. So instead of getting up to go, she just shifts in place as she continues to work

- When she becomes more desperate she begins to whimper, shifting her hips from side to side in her seat or sometimes sitting on her heel or the edge of her chair since her hands are occupied with her project

- If someone points out that she’s squirming she gets embarrassed and tries to stop or be more subtle, but soon she’s sucked back into her project and is dancing in place as she works, lifting her butt off the chair and wiggling it around, crossing her legs and biting her lip subconsciously

- She only comes back to her senses when the first of the leaks happen. Immediately she’ll gasp and drop whatever she’s holding, letting her hands fly to her crotch to stop the flow

- She’ll try to get to the bathroom as fast as she can, but she almost always loses it somewhere along the way. Too many cups of tea plus too many hours spent bent over an invention really does her bladder in every time

- When she wets herself she gets extremely flustered, gasping and panting as she releases all over her jeans and the floor below her (making a very big puddle). Still, she can’t help but enjoy the feeling of letting go after so many hours of holding--sometimes she’ll drop to her knees out of relief, usually after a very big or very long hold

- She’s very responsible and always cleans her mess and clothes up on her own, though afterwards she’ll usually take a break from her work to deal with her embarrassment and take care of herself

Mina

- Just like Melissa, she’s extremely easily distracted and usually forgets to go to the bathroom for hours at a time. Usually she’s flitting around from person to person, pestering Bakugou before playing a few rounds of Mario Kart with Kaminari and Kirishima, then hanging out in Uraraka’s room with Asui and Hagakure. She’ll be having so much fun that she either forgets to go or refuses to leave to go

- She has a pretty small bladder and drinks a lot of strawberry milk and sugary sodas, so she usually feels the need to go quite often but doesn’t do anything about it

- Her friends eventually notice her shifting in place and biting her lip or drumming her fingers, but it’s hard to tell if it’s from needing to pee or just her usual excited nature showing through, so they tend not to say anything.

- She usually only realizes she needs to go when a huge wave hits her and has her jamming her hands into her crotch, wiggling around and shifting her hips from side to side. She’ll laugh it off, saying it’s not so bad and she can still keep hanging out

- Even though she refuses to get up and go, she continues to hold herself occasionally and wiggle around. There’s no shame around it, and eventually her friends get used to her antics. She’ll lie on her dorm bed with her hand between her legs casually, gossiping with her friends, seeming to forget her need at times until the next big wave hits her

- She’ll also make comments about needing to go, saying “Oh, I gotta pee!” and “Why did I drink so much soda?”, but she always laughs it off when her friends show concern, telling them she’s just being dramatic and it’s not so bad

- (However, when it’s not her choice to keep holding--say when they’re on the bus or a field trip with no bathrooms--she’ll whine and complain openly the whole time about how desperate she is.)

- Only when she’s minutes away from wetting herself does she consider getting up and going, and at that point it’s usually too late. Mina probably has the most accidents out of everyone in the school--students often see her making a mad dash for the girls’ room with her hand between her legs, but most of the time her efforts are unsuccessful

- She’ll sigh so loudly when she finally gets relief, eyes fluttering shut and a euphoric expression on her face as hours worth of piss pours out of her. Although she’s of course a little embarrassed, she’s usually able to laugh it off and tell everyone this is the last time! even though it’s far from the truth

- She’s also very responsible when it comes to accidents and cleans up on her own, very quickly and efficiently. She’ll always deny help when offered, embarrassed to think about anyone else touching her mess.

#anyone else watch the movie on pornhub a couple months after it came out?#Anonymous #asks #op #headcanons #bn/ha #bnha omorashi #omocute #omorashi #melissa omorashi #mina omorashi #female omorashi

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umusicians · 3 years

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UM Interview: Jimah, El Cézar & Quantum Flush

Many artists today are constantly evolving in their artistry, whether that be personally or musically, through their image and sound. This Atlanta trio is no different. The trio made up of Jimah, El Cézar, Quantum Flush are bringing a new sound into the music industry, creating music under a genre of music, called "Afroton". A blend of Afrobeats and Reggaeton, which the trio introduced to the world with the release of their debut EP, 'Rice & Stew'.

Amandah Opoku sat down with Jimah, El Cézar, Quantum Flush to talk about their new record ‘Rice & Stew’, embarking on a solo career and more!

Amandah Opoku: Jimah, El Cézar & Quantum Flush, thank you for doing this interview today! Before we kick off please tell our readers about yourself and one random fact people do not know about you? JIMAH: Hey, my name is Jimah, I’m a Cameroonian artist based in Atlanta and it’s my pleasure to do this interview. As far as one random fact goes, I used to go to boarding school in Cameroon when I was younger which was a crazy experience. EL CÉZAR: What’s up! To start off, I was born in Maracaibo, Venezuela. I love to make music, i love to game and i love to eat good food. Me and the guys are gonna have our own food show when God permits. One fact about me that is not so known, is my day hustle when i’m not wearing the cape; i bartend for a living. I go to weddings and serve up to 200 people and no cap i make a good ass margarita. FLUSH: I am a composer and producer of world music based in Atlanta. I’ve been creating my entire life and I’m a believer in God.

Pictured: JIMAH

Amandah Opoku: What inspired you each to create music and pursue it as a career? JIMAH: When I was like 13 in boarding school, I used to write out song lyrics for my friends in class who wanted to know the words to songs. From doing that over and over I figured I should start writing my own lyrics, and that led to me getting into instrumentals and trying to make my own songs. I used to also battle rap some of the kids in older grades and it used to be a little thing we’d do to pass the time between studies. The way the people reacted to me and what I did was a rush. The more I did it I realized I didn’t want to do anything else in life but chase that feeling that making music gives me. EL CÉZAR: What inspired me. My dad is a percussionist and had drums in the house at all times. I remember being 5 years old when i got my first drum set and driving my mom nuts playing the hell out of it. My grandfather was also a singer in a gaita group along with his brother, who played the cuarto, (basically a smaller guitar.) I remember growing up in Venezuela. Every time we had a family gathering, beer and live music was always involved. My grandfather singing his chords out with by grandma, my dad banging his drums, my uncles joining in with claps. It was overall great times. As i grew in the States, I began to fall in love with hip-hop and the culture. Around my junior year of high school, I quit drumline and started messing around with FL studio. The rest is just history, well growth and history. Music is all I know and love. FLUSH: I began this journey in sound my first trip to Africa and got inspired by what was around me. Good things always came out of the arts for me. It always felt good for me to share my sound with people. With music, more opportunities opened up for me and I felt it was the most natural path for me in life.

Amandah Opoku: What artists would you say inspire you both musically and personally? JIMAH: I listen to a wide variety of music, so I’d say Sade, Fela Kuti, Future, Wizkid, Bob Marley, and Kanye West to name a few. There are so many others in Africa like the late DJ Arafat, and the late Manu Dibango, Flavour, and so many others. EL CÉZAR: Definitely, Wiz Khalifa because of his lifestyle. It’s a carefree, luxurious lifestyle. He preaches good energy, hard work, and that you can become a self-made boss on your own. His old music was all I listened to. My second inspiration is Bad Bunny. He writes all his songs, his style is unmatched, and he’s always creating the wave. A big thing for me and the guys is creating the wave and not riding it. FLUSH: I’m really inspired by Bach, Beethoven And Debussy because of the passion and their ability to push music into a new era. They inspire me to play with chords and form when laying out my ideas. Dub Reggae inspires me too. I really love King Tubby and Lee Scratch Perry.

Amandah Opoku: Who are artists that you look up to that you would like to work with or collab with in the future? JIMAH: I feel like Skepta and I would make a smash for sure. Wiz and Burna would be crazy. Rema has been going crazy too. I feel like we’d make something that would really shatter the boundaries of the sound. EL CÉZAR: Right now, I'm really praying and manifesting a feature from Fuego. He’s an innovator, a genre bender just like us. Another artist I really look forward to collaborating with is Rema. The guy is just a vibe wizard. Lastly, Nessly. Nessly is fye. FLUSH: There are so many to name. But, I definitely want to make records with Oumou Sangare, Fatoumata Diawara, Gunna, Young Thug, Alfa Mist, and Yussef Dayes just to name few.

Amandah Opoku: If you could describe your music in three words. What words would you choose and why? JIMAH: I’d say my music is a “Futuristic Eclectic Medley” because we are really taking elements from cultures from all across the globe and implementing them into the music. From instruments to lingo, I just want everyone in the world to be able to relate to the music. EL CÉZAR: Three words: smooth, sensual, and at times enigmatic. I feel like I’m a pretty chill guy so this type of music is what resonates with me. Plus, I’m also a night owl. Listen to my music at night and you’ll feel what i’m talking about. With the guys though, I’m heavily influenced by the energy Flush is trying to emit with the beats. Flush is an unpredictable man, so i have to adapt a lot. I love it though. FLUSH: The words that best describe my sound would be diversity, eclecticism and originality. I’m creating music that transcends cultures and language. I pull inspiration from all aspects of my life and create with the intent to weld different cultures together. I’m born and raised ATL with parents from West Africa. So when I think about creating, certain sounds make sense with others.

Amandah Opoku: You recently released your project, ‘Rice & Stew’. What was the writing and recording process like? JIMAH: Yeah Rice & Stew was a lot of fun to make. Working with El Cezar and Flush was just a flawless process. Flush and Cezar are always coming with some crazy production and once they press play on the beat, it doesn’t take long for the ideas to start flowing. I typically do a mix of freestyling and writing, and we record ourselves. I went to school for engineering and Cezar is a beast with engineering too; so all the recording, mixing, and mastering was done in house, handled mostly by Cezar. EL CÉZAR: Rice & Stew man, the process was great! I’ll never forget those times. I think Jimah and I have a similar process. During Rice & Stew, it was always hard to figure out who would go first on the song unless Flush explicitly said who he felt like should start. We played rock paper scissors sometimes for who would go first, LOL. Once we figured that out, we just vibed on the beat. We spit melodies, and sometimes words will come out so we get an idea of what the song will be about. After that, we either knock out the song in one go and write it then and there, or we’ll vibe on like 3 or 4 more beats and pick the best one to finish. FLUSH: The writing process is actually something similar to a therapy session. Jimah and El Cézar are my friends so we talk about what’s happening in our personal lives. They pretty much narrate my feelings into song form. We have inside jokes the somehow worked it’s way into the music. Everything we do is from the heart I swear.

Amandah Opoku: You are 3 individuals contributing your own visions, sounds and ideas to what ultimately became, ‘Rice & Stew’. How did you integrate your own personal ideas/views into the project? JIMAH: The one thing we realized when we all came together was that we all had very similar life stories but just on different sides of the world. We also realized that our music and cultures were very similar and were almost like cousins. On every record we tend to tell the same story just from our points of view, whether that be in our native language or with lingo that only people from our cultures would understand, we’re like 3 sides to the same coin. EL CÉZAR: Being yourself is really easy when it comes to making music. You do what feels natural. I feel like because we’re from different parts of the world, we’re even more encouraged to hone into our cultures. In 17hrs, I talk about taking my girl to Maracaibo, comiendo cepillao’ por el lago. Maracaibo is known for many things, but a great attraction is the Lake walk, “La vereda del lago,” and we also eat special iceys with condensed milk called “cepillado.” Also, in Maracaibo we have a different dialect then pretty much the rest of Venezuela. We use the “vos” instead of “tu,” which completely changes the language. It feels forced when i try to speak with the “tu”, the “vos” just feels too natural to me. I definitely like to incorporate that in the songs, mainly because it’s what I write naturally, but I sometimes want to make it digestible for those who aren’t too familiar with the “vos” dialect. FLUSH: We respect each other’s vision and also learn along the way. El Cézar definitely taught me a lot about Maracaibo to the point where I feel like I was there. This is what Rice and Stew is about. Creating a hot meal by bringing our own seasoning and mixing it together.

Amandah Opoku: What inspired you to come together and release this project together? JIMAH: We felt like there was an absence of Afro-Reggaeton collaborations, so we decided to really spearhead that movement by labelling the new genre AFROTON. Once we figured out the formula for blending the cultures sonically, we knew that we had to give the people a collection of music from that genre. EL CÉZAR: Me and Jimah met during one of our studio internships and clicked the first day we met. We spoke about Afrobeats and how it’s similar to Reggaeton. We spoke about the similarities the genres shared, the emotion the genres give us and how we resonate with the sound. We cooked up beats at the internship that same day and pretty much planned our first session together. At the time, I wasn’t really behind the mic much. I was just making beats. Our first session, I played Jimah a beat and we recorded “Wahala,” our first track together. I loved the vibe and i felt inspired to write something in Spanish. This was my first Spanish verse ever. When we finished the track we literally went nuts and knew we found something special. We even shot a video to that song, but never dropped it. After weeks of cooking up with Jimah, he finally introduced me to Flush. That day, me and Flush cooked up a beat for a song called “Shayo.” Great song man, humble beginnings. After that, we knew we had to keep cooking up. This was something truly special. After months of cooking and just vibing, getting closer and growing together, we decided that maybe it was time for a project that would showcase this new sound that we’re bringing to the world. We knew that this would bring people together and that’s all we ever wanted. I see these guys as my brothers and this music really fortified that. Now, the ultimate goal is to have the most diverse dance floor anybody has ever danced on. FLUSH: We felt that the world was changing especially now that we have reached a new decade. The sound has to transform and reflect the new age we live in today. We are all experiencing something completely new some of these things being life threatening. It’s only right that the sound changes with the times.

Pictured: EL CÉZAR

Amandah Opoku: What inspired you to name the record ‘Rice & Stew’? JIMAH: Honestly it was a joke at first, but it eventually stuck. Rice & Stew is a staple household meal that most cultures eat in some form or fashion and we felt like people would be interested to hear what rice and stew would sound like sonically. EL CÉZAR: EVERYONE EATS RICE & STEW. Flush named the “La Zorra” beat “Rice Stew” and that’s what truly inspired it. That’s where the name came from. FLUSH: The name came from a crazy beat I made. After making the 4th record on the project, we noticed that rice and stew is a meal people all over the world can resonate with.

Amandah Opoku: If you had to choose one song from ‘Rice & Stew’ to introduce someone to your music, which song would you choose and why? JIMAH: I would probably show them La Zorra. That’s because that record really cuts across all cultural boundaries and has a lot of energy that is just undeniable. EL CÉZAR: I would choose Outta Line as the song to show the first timers. It’s the perfect blend of everything - vibes, emotion, story, theme, the BEAT. This song is my fav from the project. Me and Jimah go back and forth, passing the baton, and telling the story. This man Flush went crazy on the beat as usual. It’s just an overall digestible vibe. Anybody can vibe to that song. FLUSH: I would choose La Zorra. That song is the one that makes me speed down the highway when it comes on. I love the high energy in the drums mixed with the psycho synths and syncopation.

Amandah Opoku: In the future, do you think you’ll create a group name that your projects would be released under or do you think you’ll continue to release music credited as your individual selves? JIMAH: You know this is something we talk about very often and we just didn’t want to force a name that did not resonate with everyone. So, until we get the perfect name, we’ll keep crediting each other. EL CÉZAR: We’ve actually thought about the group name A LOT. If we get a name, we want it to be something that represents all of us. We’re really not tryna force it so as of right now, I think we’re going as individuals. To us, we’re still a group. We’re still the Afroton trio. FLUSH: I feel that we could have a name in the future, but as of now God hasn’t revealed that message to us yet. We are just trying to grown in our sound and through that it’ll manifest itself.

Amandah Opoku: What do you want people to take away from your music? And as an artist, what do you hope to achieve with your music career? JIMAH: The underlying message throughout my music is unity and cultural appreciation. We all have different things to learn from each other and appreciate so I really want to preach that. I want to be recognized as one of the greatest artists of all time for bringing cultures together and I want to really represent for my country Cameroon, and I want to change the lives of people back home with my music. EL CÉZAR: I want people to understand that we’re all brothers and sisters at the end of the day. We want people to treat each other like family and really to share the dance floor together, metaphorically and literally. As an artist, I want to be up there with the greats, just like any other artist. But not because we’re good at what we do, but because we are innovative and we brought something to the table that no one has ever thought to bring - something genuine built from love and passion. FLUSH: I want to inspire people to express themselves. People should be free in thinking and shouldn’t be afraid to take their time in finding themselves. I find out more and more about myself through the sound and share it with my listeners.

Amandah Opoku: What has been your favorite track released this year and why? JIMAH: I released a song at the beginning of this year called “Fake Energy” and that song really set the tone for me this year in terms of my mental state and how I approach people and this music. Whenever I listen to it, it really inspires me to stay on my game. EL CÉZAR: La Zorra had to be my second best because there’s an unmatched emotion that i get when i listen to that. The song is just crazy. From another artist though, it has to be Ginger by Wizkid. The production is impeccable and the mixing is on point. Burna boy did his thing, Wiz did his thing too. The outro of the song where the key signature changes was just perfect. FLUSH: My favorite track released is Right Mind because that is when we all came together for the first time. We created the song at a studio called Danny Vails and since then we’ve been rockin heavy. That was the first time I linked El Cézar.

Amandah Opoku: 2020 has been a very interesting year for all of us. How has the pandemic affected you as a musician? JIMAH: It’s just given me more time to create, and if not for the pandemic, I don’t think we would have been able to really lock in to make Rice & Stew. It was a blessing in disguise. EL CÉZAR: It was truly a blessing to just be able to sit at home and perfect my craft. Every day was productive for me. I was either studying music business, learning new methods to master songs, or making new beats and songs. It was great. It gave me time to really hone into this music. Being able to dedicate my energy into just music felt amazing to me. Rice & Stew would’ve probably came out in 2021, if not for the pandemic. We literally cooked up weekly and pushed out about 30 songs in the span of 3 months. FLUSH: It sucks because we have been performing in clubs and can’t enjoy it like that cause of the masks. We are also on a virtual tour which is cool, but it would have been better if we could get on the road and physically interact with our fans. I pray everything clears up so we can really go crazy.

Pictured: QUANTUM FLUSH

Amandah Opoku: With ‘Rice & Stew’ out now, what can fans and music listeners expect from you next year? JIMAH: Expect more futuristic culture blending, culture bending vibes from all 3 of us. EL CÉZAR: Rice & Stew was only the beginning. Expect more collaborative projects from the guys and I. In 2021, I am planning to release my first solo EP to showcase what I can do as an individual. Music from us as a trio is inevitable! Expect greatness in 2021. FLUSH: This project is just the spark to a flame that leads to the dynamite going boom. We have so much music to share and many experiences to give our listeners. We are performing shows and collaborating with people all over the world, It’s just a time to be global.

Amandah Opoku: Jimah, El Cézar & Quantum Flush, thank you for sitting down with me! Before we close this interview is there anything you want to say to your fans and our readers? JIMAH: I appreciate you for interviewing us and to everyone reading keep your head down and chase your goals, don’t worry about what those on the outside have to say, and go stream Rice & Stew out now on all platforms and more vibes on the way! EL CÉZAR: To all of the readers and supporters, thank you for taking the time to read this. Thank you for listening to Rice & Stew, and for accepting this sound. We don’t want it to be esoteric, but even if it’s that; I’m happy and thankful for those who resonate with the music. We love y’all and we want to keep growing with y’all. Stay safe and don’t forget to just be yourself. You’ll get further that way. Peace. FLUSH: I want to thank my fans for taking this journey with us into the new world. Thank you for reading and if you haven’t heard the project yet check it out and hop on the UFO. There is plenty of food to go around just take a bite of this Rice and Stew.

Stream ‘Rice & Stew’ here and connect with Jimah, El Cézar, Quantum Flush on the following websites: Jimah: @jimahlegar (Instagram), @Jimahlegar (Twitter) El Cezar: @elcezar_ (Instagram), @elcezar_ (Twitter) Quantum Flush: @quantumflush (Instagram), @quantumflush (Twitter)

#Interviews #Amandah Opoku #Jimah #El Cézar #Quantum Flush

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thetriggeredhappy · 4 years

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Scout's been having a rough week because everyone seems to be too busy for him, even though the team is on vacation. At first he's bored, but as the days continue, he finds himself angry. But soon he just feels awful lonely, desperately craving the attention/affection he's been lacking. Finally he goes to Demo and Sniper, who are working on an important project. They tell him they're busy for the time being, but are suddenly alarmed when he breaks down sobbing. They do their best to soothe him.

friendship fic is best fic end of story. (fic below the cut, no warnings)

“Hey Hardhat, think we could—“

“Now’s not a good time, Scooter. You run along now.”

“Yo, Snipes, you busy?”

“Yeah, actually. Got things to do. Sorry, mate.”

“Mumbles, what’s up?”

“Mmm-phm. Bmm!”

“Demo, what are you up to, man?”

“Defusing a bomb, lad, best you go on and leg it. Probably to the other end of the base. And maybe find some headphones.”

“Hey Soldier—“

“Not now, Cadet! I am currently engaged in a battle—of wills. Private Munches once again has fleas and they are very contagious. It is in your best interest to retreat now!”

“Hey Heavy—“

“Heavy is welding. Leetle Scout should leave.”

“Hey Doc—?”

“Nein. No, I don’t need to know what you were going to ask. I do not care.”

“Spy—?”

“Clearly you’re desperate if you’re trying to talk to me to find something to do.”

Scout puffed out a breath of air, slumping. “Look, I dunno either, okay? We get the first real break for the first time in like two months and all the guys still sit around acting like they have better shit to do.”

“Have you considered that they’ve also been looking forward to a break and have things they have been saving for that break?” Spy asked, not even looking up from his newspaper.

“I mean, maybe. But c’mon, it’s ridiculous! I’m not asking to like, go do a whole thing all day, I just wanna hang out a little bit!”

“A shame that I am busy,” Spy said, sighing in faux disappointment.

“With what?”

“Anything else.” He waved Scout off. “Go on. Get a hobby or something, something besides pestering all of the rest of us like some kind of annoying dog.”

Scout sulked, leaving and heading back to his own room.

The rest of their first day off, Scout ended up mostly messing around in his room. He flicked through some comics, got bored, flicked through some other comics, got bored, paced around for a while listening to a record before he lost interest in that too and wound up trying to take a nap. About five minutes after he laid down he realized that was gonna be a no-go, and he ended up so frustrated that he cleaned his whole room, right down to vacuuming under his bed. He was up until about two in the morning cleaning and putting stuff away before he realized what time it was and tried to lay down to go to sleep.

He finished cleaning after he went and grabbed breakfast for himself—kitchen entirely empty—and then was left standing in his room, looking around aimlessly for anything else to do. He rearranged his whole little bookshelf, sorting his comics by franchise then by hero then by issue.

He got lunch early. Kitchen empty. Halls quiet, only the sounds of machinery in the distance to tell him there was anyone else around.

By the time he finished eating, he was pretty much desperate for something to do, so he did rounds again to ask the team if anyone needed help with anything. He got a pretty harsh dressing-down from Engie about interrupting him when he was focusing hard on work, very important things. Soldier rambled and ranted at him for about twenty minutes, at which point Scout realized Soldier was barely even talking to him, and was mostly just talking to himself. He tried to track down Spy for an hour to try and ask to borrow his car so he could go into town and find literally anything to do, but the guy wasn’t anywhere to be seen, and he eventually gave up. He got desperate enough for something to do that he even went over to the infirmary, and was pretty sure he would be roped into some dumb experiment or something, but it turned out that Medic was stitching something into Heavy, so even that was a no-go.

So he just went back into his room again.

It had been kinda nice at first, having a place all to himself. As a kid he could count on his fingers how many times he was left alone in any capacity, and then as a teen he found peace and quiet to be pretty scarce. But then his brothers all graduated, and started moving out one by one, and he was left there pretty much alone, just him and Ma. And even then he was constantly surrounded by people, the walls thin in their apartment.

But then he moved out west for the job, and suddenly it was really freakishly quiet. And it kind of blew his mind at first, the quiet. He appreciated it. Especially considering most of the time all he had to do was go in the common room to find someone to talk to. He realized, with his pool of people he could potentially talk to so limited, that he was kind of a clingy person, needed to talk to people a lot.

He got lonely quick.

He remembered after he graduated, splitting up laundry into a once-a-week thing instead of a once-every-two-weeks thing just for the sake of having more time around other people, even if he wasn’t talking to them. Ma kinda got in his case sometimes for how much he would go get food somewhere besides at home, but he kinda had to, kinda needed to talk to someone else on the daily or else he started going stir-crazy. Started feeling bad and gross, started in with having all kinds of dumb ideas running through his head.

Mostly ideas like, maybe the team wasn’t that busy and they just made excuses and tried to seem busy because they didn’t like him. Ideas like, well he already knew that they didn’t like him, he was a lot younger than most of them and a hell of a lot stupider and they called him loud and annoying pretty much on the daily. Ideas like, none of them ever really talked to him besides during battle, and maybe they were just trying to be polite when they did talk to him, and when was the last time anyone asked how he was doing? Ideas like, maybe they really did just hate him. Ideas like, maybe a lot of people hated him. Ideas like, if literally everyone he talked to on a regular basis—all eight people—didn’t like him enough to hang out with him for a little while when they got their first break in forever...

Ideas like, did he really not have any friends? Ideas like, wasn’t that pretty pathetic? Ideas like, well, if he didn’t have any friends, if nobody liked him, did that maybe mean that he deserved it?

Scout stayed up staring out off into space and occasionally getting up and pacing around until about two in the morning.

Scout was up early the next day, and paced for just about the hour and a half in anticipation for his usual call home—once a week unless he said he wouldn’t be able to the week prior—before giving up on waiting and just calling early.

It got picked up in the middle of the fourth ring, and by then, Scout had already tangled the phone cord in his fidgeting.

“Hello?” came an immediately familiar voice, and he relaxed.

“Hey, Ma,” he greeted.

“J-Bear!” she practically gasped. “Honey, you’re two hours early. Why are you callin’, shouldn’t you be at work?”

“We’re on a break while some maintenence stuff is happening,” Scout explained, starting to untangle the cord. “And, y’know. I’m wicked bored.”

“All caught up on chores, then?” Ma asked, already the warning note in her voice that meant he might be in for a little bit of deserved nagging.

“Yeah, actually. Cleaned my room finally, all good on laundry, organized some stuff, all that,” he replied. “I was gonna do groceries, but my usual ride places is, uh... ghosting on me a little.”

“Well, are you getting enough to eat?” Ma asked next, sounding worried.

“Oh, no, yeah, I am,” he said quickly. “I’m just, y’know. I gotta eat like, canned beans and stuff like that for a while.”

“As long as you’re eating,” Ma said firmly.

And Scout went to say something else, to start going on about how he was so annoyed with his teammates, see, because they were all being total assholes, right? And then Ma would say something to him, and he’d feel better, because every time he told Ma about something that was going wrong he always walked away feeling better.

But Ma started talking again.

“Honey, I’m really sorry,” she started in, and it was clear that she meant it, and Scout’s heart dropped. “But I can’t really talk for long. I had plans today, and I’m already running late.”

He couldn’t speak for a moment due to the fact that his heart had suddenly jumped into his throat. “But Ma,” he said, brows furrowing, “what about the phone call?”

A short sigh. “I’m a little glad you called early, actually, that means I can ask you—would it be alright if we didn’t have our chat this week? It’s just that your older brother is finally stopping back in town for a little while—“

“Ma, which one?” he asked with a laugh, managing to fit some humor into his voice even as he forced it not to wobble.

“Oldest, sweetie. Anyways, I’m headed out to go meet him for lunch actually, and then we’re gonna come back to the house and chat and all, your niece is real excited to meet the cat, and I’d feel terrible if I left to go talk on the phone for an hour when I have guests over—“

“Yeah, Ma,” Scout said, bracing himself to lie through his teeth to his mother. “It’s totally fine. No worries. We’ll just talk next week, it’s no big deal.”

“You’re a lifesaver, sweetheart,” Ma said, and meant it, and Scout winced. “I love you, we’ll talk next week for sure, okay?”

“Yeah. Okay. Love you too,” he said. And he listened for the sound of the phone being put down, and he sighed, breath shaky on the exhale. He only put the phone down when it started to beep at him, and then continued to fiddle with the cord for a long while.

“The problem is that to send a bullet that far and that straight, the force needed is fairly strong. If you tried to fire this round out of a proper rifle, it might just explode in the barrel, mate,” Sniper explained, turning over the bullet in his fingers.

“So we fire one to test it,” Demo shrugged.

“Not out of my gun we won’t,” Sniper replied, raising an eyebrow. “If you’re aiming to send explosives long distances, best to just stick to rockets or canons or the like. Biggest boom you’d get shooting an explosive round like this anywhere over a hundred meters or so would just be a firecracker. It would just be distracting.”

“Distracting. Now there’s an idea,” Demo nodded, starting to scribble something down on the paper in front of him. “Now here’s a concept, lad; smoke rounds.”

Sniper considered that for a few seconds, tapping his own pencil against the side of the table. “As in proper smoke like a flare, or as in just some sort of, er, blocked visibility?”

“Either,” Demo shrugged.

“Again, anything too flammable would go off in the gun. Maybe some sort of,” he said, gestured loosely for a moment. “Maybe just a round full of some sort of fine powder that would go up when the casing shatters against a wall? Hell of a heavy round I think, probably need a special gun for it. What sort of powder like that wouldn’t be flammable?”

“Well, technically speaking, everything is flammable, if we want to get down to what the word flammable means,” Demo replied, pausing in his own writing. “But there’s a few things that might work. A good powder for that might even just be potassium bicarbonate, that’s easy enough to come by.”

“Why’s that?” Sniper asked.

“Well, most commonly it’s used in fire extinguishers,” Demo shrugged. “I imagine that could really do a number on someone else’s guns or machinery, as well. And I wouldn’t need to put in a budget request to our boss over it, I could just snag the spare canister we keep in the kitchen.”

“Tavish, how often do I tell you you’re a bloody genius?” Sniper asked, watching Demo scribble down some formulas with practiced ease.

“On the weekly, must be,” Demo replied.

“Might end up going over the regular amount during this project, because you’re an absolute bloody genius.”

“Thankin’ you kindly, lad,” Demo said, flashed him a grin.

A knock at the door to Demo’s work space. Sniper got up first, moving to open it.

“Oh. Hey, Snipes,” Scout said, looking surprised to see Sniper answering the door.

“G’day,” Sniper greeted, a little confused. He stepped aside to let Scout in, slightly befuddled.

“Hey, Demo,” Scout greeted, saw the spread of different papers and bullets across the table. “Uh, you guys workin’ on somethin’ in here? You busy?”

“Very,” Demo agreed, stretching his arms up over his head, back aching from being hunched over paper for a bit too long. “You need somethin’?”

“I, I mean, nah. Not really. Just wanted to see if you—uh, either of you guys—were free is all,” Scout shrugged, putting his hands into his pockets.

“We’re working on a project,” Sniper replied, moving to go take his own seat again.

“Trying to figure out the mechanics of a new kind of sniping round,” Demo elaborated. “We’ve just moved on to the part that’s all math and chemistry and physics and the like.”

“Yeah?” Scout asked, a little fidgety, a little awkward.

“Yeah,” Demo nodded. Picked up his pencil again. “Gonna be awfully boring, I imagine.”

“Especially since you don’t really have the head for this sort of thing,” Sniper said, a little jokingly, glancing up at Scout. “Might ask to use you for target practice with it later though, if you’re still bored around then.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Mundy,” Demo chided, then grinned. “Lad’s far too skinny. Even a marksman like you’d never be able to hit him, aye?”

Sniper laughed, and Demo laughed. And then they looked over at Scout, and Scout wasn’t laughing. He was just stood there, shifting nervously. Not the same kind of nervous as he got when he’d poked and prodded at Heavy a little too long and finally just got hefted up and put somewhere high up that he’d take a while to get down from, or the same kind of nervous as when Spy pulled his knife out and started flipping it open and closed during an argument, because both of those had an amount of “do it, I dare you” in them, an amount of “bet you won’t” in them.

But this time, Scout just looked tense. A little too wide-eyed, a little too avoiding-eye-contact. His chest rose and fell in a breath that looked far too deliberate and therefore awkward.

They both stopped laughing, just looking at him. “Lad, something the matter?” Demo asked, expression falling.

“Yeah, you awright, mate?” Sniper asked, turning in his chair to regard Scout.

Scout removed his hands from his pockets, fiddling for a few seconds. Then he looked up at Demo, then at Sniper, then at Demo again. He opened his mouth to say something.

He burst into tears.

Sniper startled, and Demo’s eye widened. They looked at each other, Demo largely with concern and Sniper with open alarm as Scout hunched forward, burying his face in his hands and crying openly.

A brief nonverbal argument took place, then Sniper was standing, moving over.

“Scout, mate,” he started gently, awkwardly, and after a second put a cautious hand on Scout’s shoulder. “Scout, what happened? What’s wrong?”

Scout moved to cling to Sniper’s shirt, tears redoubling, and Sniper stiffened, freezing up, eyes going a little wide. He shot a look at Demo that could not have more clearly read as “help me”.

Demo quickly rose, moving over. He put a hand on Scout’s shoulder to test the waters, and when Scout didn’t react poorly, he pulled the shorter man off of Sniper and into a hug. Scout crumpled into it immediately. Sniper settled for standing just to one side, patting Scout on the back once or twice.

“I’m sorry,” was the first thing Scout managed, and Demo shook his head, hugging all the tighter.

“Nothin’ to be sorry for, lad. It’s alright. What’s got you so blue?” he asked, tone calm and level.

“Just—just, a lot, okay?” Scout managed, and Demo nodded, tucking Scout’s head under his chin after a second. “It’s just, everyone’s all busy doin’ important shit, and I’m just—just sitting around, and I wanna help, but everyone keeps telling me I’m bugging them and bein’ a fuckin’ nuisance, but I’m really bored and it’s really lonely out here and I—I miss Boston and I miss my family and I’m fuckin’ tired of eating whatever garbage we keep stocked in the kitchen but I can’t go into town because Spy’s being a dick and I can’t fuckin’ find him to borrow his keys, and I’m just...” He burrowed in closer to Demo, taking a shaky breath. “And now I’m bothering you guys while you’re working on something that actually matters.”

“You’re not,” Demo said right away, squeezing him tighter for a moment. “No expiration date on maths, aye?”

“And you’re not a bother,” Sniper added, tone dripping sincerity. He paused for a second. “It’s alright. I’m not going to be upset with you for talking to me.”

“Snipes, you and I both know I’m fuckin’ annoying,” Scout all but snapped, only lacking venom because he didn’t seem to have the energy for it.

“No,” Sniper replied, and exhaled. “You don’t annoy me. I like having you around. You... and Demo s’well I think,” he added, looking over at the Scotsman before glancing back away again. “You’re the best mates I’ve ever bloody had, awright?”

“Can’t imagine there was much competition for that, ya feckin’ hermit,” Demo said dryly, arching an eyebrow.

“Stuff it, Tavish,” Sniper scoffed, flushing, pulling his hat off and shoving it into Demo’s face, making him laugh. “Bugger off, ruining the moment. Absolute piker.”

“I’m still sorry,” Scout said, quieter now, and Demo and Sniper stopped their shenanigans for a moment to listen. “I just feel bad. I’m being a total baby, getting lonely when nobody talks to me for like, two days.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Demo shrugged. “Just means we need to watch out for you better, aye?”

Scout made a noncommittal noise. Sniper and Demo looked at each other, then Sniper spoke.

“We really are working on something, but... you can hang about in here if you’d like,” he suggested lightly. “Might get boring and all, but it’s nothing classified.”

“Just tinkering,” Demo agreed. “Would that help at all?”

Scout nodded, sniffled. “Okay.” He paused for a few moments before he finally pulled away from Demo, wiping his eyes with the his forearm self-consciously, unable to maintain eye contact. “I appreciate it, guys. Really. You guys are the best.”

“No worries,” Sniper said, and gave him a parting pat on the back before he went to pull up the spare chair, situating it between he and Demo’s chairs before sitting back down. Scout took a seat, pulled his legs up onto it to sit cross-legged, and looked down at the papers.

“What were we saying, potassium bicarbonate?” Demo prompted, taking his own seat.

“Right. Might need to talk to Heavy about using his welding materials, but we’d need a real finnicky piece of tech to make the thing without making a bloody mess,” Sniper said.

“And it can’t be from a standard press, we’d want to go for extra precision on a bullet that’ll be going through a sniper rifle,” Demo agreed. “Might need to talk to the Engineer, ask for an hour or two in his shop to borrow his metal casting nonsense.”

“Maybe. Does that, er, potassium carbon whatsit, does it melt down?”

Scout just sat and fiddled with the bullets on the table while they talked, and eventually snagged a piece of paper that wasn’t being used and started to doodle idly. And Demo and Sniper could both tell pretty soon that his mood had improved significantly, shoulders squaring and head being held higher even as he hunched over his piece of paper. And for the rest of their break, Scout took to sitting with either Demo or Sniper while they worked on various things, and at the end of their break, on the last day before they headed back to work, Sniper borrowed Engie’s keys to his truck and the three of them went out to get the greasiest fast food they could find.

And Scout felt better. Really, honestly, better.

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #my fanfiction #shut up me #everybody talks #also demo and sniper are two mercs who i think are probably smart but in a really low-key way that doesn't show up much #demo especially but sniper has his strong suits

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house-of-tykayl · 4 years

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cystar tho (headcanons)

imagine

cyborg and starfire are the cuddliest couple ever. the PDA is incredible. star will perch on his shoulders like he’s a climbing post/bird perch and generally just drape herself all over him bc he’s got a lot of surface area and she wants comfy. and cy will just grab her out of midair for huggles before letting her float away again like a balloon headed straight for the atmosphere. star will float higher when she wants to look over his shoulder at something (bc hes the only titan taller than her) and sometimes cy will just reach up and touch her waist and lead her around in the air like that while they chat

the other titans support them, but are simultaneously disgusted by the excessive amount of PDA. cy sometimes milks star’s affection to troll everyone, especially at the breakfast table. “hey star i havent had my morning kiss today” “oh apologies” “do that long tongue thingy again babe” “if you two dont let me eat my waffles in peace for just ONE morning i will open a portal to the seventh circle of hell and chuck the both of you inside”

star is living for the unabashed affection bc cyborg has no qualms about being proud boyfriend in public. like he’ll wrap an arm around her and go “hey star’s my girlfriend :)” and the grocery store clerk’s like “we know, that’ll be $15.99″ and star’s just beaming, holding the plastic bags full of snacks and unorthodox food combinations

if cy’s generous with the lovin wait till you see star lmao. “you are looking most beautiful today!” she keeps saying shit literally no one else will say, either (possibly) coz of the robot thing or just coz starfire’s being starfire, and cyborg’s just like *clutches_chest.jpeg* because she a lil weirdo but she makes him feel normal and appreciated and that he’s great the way he is, that he’s desired even if a lot of him isn’t organic anymore. like yes!! my boyfriend is comprised of 80% robotic parts!! he is extremely strong and the “cool”!!! is he not absolutely wonderful???

ok but starfire can almost never get enough touching, and cyborg’s just like aight *picks her up and carries her around on his arm for an hour* and she’ll just be giddy the entire time

more under the cut

star doesnt have a lot of preconceived notions of what a normal human relationship is, outside of things she sees on TV and robin’s incomprehensible push-pulling over the years. so she doesn’t care one bit about the fact that she’s cuddling a robot. she’d figured starting a relationship with anyone on earth would be something different for her regardless– so a lot of the things cyborg used to think a partner would find problems with, end up not happening because man, this alien chick. “may i lay together with you in your bed?” “girl are you saying you wanna sleep while standing up?? on my charging port???? surrounded by 3478012 cables and wires?????” “is there no room? then may i sleep on the floor?” she just wants to be with him

heck more bed shenanigans would involve like, cyborg awkwardly trying to lie down on star’s bed, and it feels weird coz he hasn’t slept in a real bed for years and while it feels nice he’s kinda sinking into the mattress and he’s self-conscious about leaving a dent in the frame?? or like rolling over at night and squashing star which would be awkward coz he’s more than a little heavy?? then star hops in and cuddles close and is all like shhhhhhhhh slep time

silkie is usually very happy about cyborg’s presence in star’s room, if only because he can gnaw on cy’s legs while they sleep. cy begins to think it’s also revenge since there’s a lot less space on the bed with himself in it, and silkie struggles to find room near starfire to sleep at night. they eventually just get a bigger bed. silkie is a lot less stressed– but cyborg still wakes up with chew marks in his legs

if either of them are too tired from a battle that day, the other will carry them to bed. BB laughed his ass off the first time he saw starfire princess carrying cy to his room (star’s perfectly capable of carrying his weight but her arms aren’t necessarily long enough to hold onto him properly, making it a little cumbersome and awkward), but cy just tiredly gives B the finger

cy will talk to star in awkward broken tamaranian and she’ll get all giggly. everyone else assumes it’s cute flirting, but he’s actually whispering dirty, raunchy shit. that she taught him. and she continues to teach him tamaranian, occasionally dropping new words while otherwise speaking english, and waiting for him to ask about what they mean.

cy will sometimes smack star’s ass and then run for his life before she can return the favor, because he always ends up with an overly-enthusiastic handprint-shaped dent in his ass. it’s a terrifying game of tag. BB will chase them chasing each other with a camera to add to his album of “cyborg’s dented ass” photos that he shares with the whole titans network

cy teaches star about the niches in earth/american culture, the kinds of things that are a little harder to learn about on your own, or things she otherwise wouldn’t have had a reason to learn. he tells her about old american tv shows and explains obscure slang words and how to make telemarketers hang up first and what the contra code is and why he mashes it in every time he boots up a new video game. it’s a crash course mix of useless trivia and miscellaneous culture that makes star’s head spin– but she’s excited about learning all the same, the power of just knowing more makes her feel more comfortable on a planet where she is always a foreigner

it’s kinda why star adores all the different nicknames cy has for her like “fly girl” “baby doll” etc because it makes her feel “in” coz she gets all these cool nicks of names like other earth people!! she fits in!!!! and he’ll say it so fondly it makes her blush half the time. cy definitely notices and thinks its super cute at how excited she gets over pet names. she tries to nickname him back at one point but it felt awkward and she struggled to come up with them, and cy reassured her that he liked her saying out his name anyway, its cool. just be yourself babey

cy loves teaching star things in general, he’s patient and she’s always an eager student. he once took a few hours showing her how to play video games and while she didn’t really take to it, she did learn how to not break the controller whenever her virtual car’s about to crash into the divider (she still shrieks when it happens though)

initially, star is a bit nervous about touching some of cyborg’s robot parts like the implants and consoles coz she’s not sure how to deal with them? alien tech is one thing and earth tech is another, and then there’s the advanced shit that made up cyborg’s body and literally keeps him alive. she’s petrified at the thought of accidentally breaking something like what if she presses the button that turns off his lungs???????? and cy is like why the fuck would i have a button to turn off my lungs?? so one day cy just sits her down so she’s leaning back against his chest, and he looks over her shoulder as he shows her how to navigate his arm console. press this button and choose this option, no the screen wont break even if you press hard, dont use the browser to download malware on my arm like BB did, etc. the ui’s pretty intuitive and star gets it pretty quickly, then she gets all excited. cy teaches her about all the maintenance he does on his body and how his charger works and all that shit and she like oooooo

“if the t-car is your baby, does this mean i am its mother? cyborg does she like me enough? should i assist in changing her oil? *panicking* WILL SHE ACCEPT ME AS HER ADOPTED K’NORFKA?!”

(the t-car is a sassy one, easily jealous and protective– but ultimately, she does approve of starfire, if only just barely)

they spend a lot of time in the garage together. whether cy’s fussing with the t-car or putting together a new gadget, star’s a helpful assistant when it comes to welding or heavy lifting. and while she doesn’t necessarily get programming, she still helps cy with all the calculations and math involved in it; the concept of physics as she has encountered on earth is primitive compared to tamaran, and cy will often challenge her to crack a tough equation before his computer can. while the computer usually gets a result first, star will just explain that its answer was wrong in the large scheme of things, before she starts going in depth into that nerdy science shit to find a more effective way to wire whatever project they’re working on and cy’s just like ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ heart eyes ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ at how smart she is

they fucking love food. while all the titans are hanging out in the common room, star and cy spend an inordinate amount of time in the kitchen. star will literally eat anything, at any time, and cy would go like “yo star want a sub??” and shes like “YES I WOULD LOVE THE EDIBLE SUBMARINES” and they go make the tallest sub ever and then Eat it

they just cook together a lot, one of them being head chef for the hour and the other being the kitchen assistant. cy’s usually in the lead when they’re making food for the other titans (to prevent food poisoning), and star is happy to learn new recipes that aren’t lethal to her friends– that, and licking all the mixing bowls clean. cy purposely gets sauce etc on his face so that star will see and lick it off too. then star will very unsubtly smear food on her face so that cy will wipe it off with his finger and then things get handsy. (they’re both aware it’s a game, but they pretend like they don’t.)

cy gets them matching aprons and a tiny chef hat for star. she asks him why it’s so tiny or even necessary but he just thinks its cute af on her lol

it helps cy’s ego when star will also eat literally anything he puts in front of her while enjoying it unironically. of course, cy quickly learns that starfire’s favorite “earth” foods are things that most people wouldn’t consider food at all, so while he’ll prepare Real Food for himself, he had to start a new custom cookbook for the random combinations of ingredients that starfire likes to ingest. he’s torn between feeling like his chef skills go to waste on her, or being proud at how good he’s become at figuring out the kinds of food combos she likes based on the flavors and consistencies she’s inclined to. but ultimately she’s just so cute and happy when she smiles at the taste of m&ms on raw steak that cyborg’s just like ahh. fine.

cyborg: *sighs while writing* “edamame in a cherry-chocolate reduction: get a handful of fresh edamame, washing is optional, pour hershey’s chocolate sauce all over it, add cherries but don’t remove the pits or the stems, sprinkle in some drops of 7up, then cover that shit in mustard. stick it all in the microwave for 1 minute, doesn’t really matter what temperature? prep time: 3 and a half minutes. the fuck did i just write”

star: *wolfs down that edamame shit like its the best goddamn thing ever*

raven:

meanwhile, while cy can’t stomach star’s tamaranean food, he does go out of his way to learn how to prepare the stuff himself, for whenever star’s sick or feeling down. the nostalgic taste of home tends to help her feel better. the bowls of wustlepus might keep trying to strangle him, but hey, cy can handle it

cy used to think we was master of stuffing his face, but he quickly found out that you do not challenge an alien with 9 stomachs to an eating competition and expect to win. it’s still fun, of course, to pick a restaurant and watch her slowly but surely put away food with a grace that cy doesn’t (care to) have. robin and BB cheer will them on, raven is disgusted but plays referee anyway (even though it’s not like the result ever changes)

“are the table manners required for today’s duel of excessive food consumption?” star will ask cy innocently, but she’d be smiling a lil smugly because she knows she’s gonna win like always

(at some point, the restaurant manager will start eyeing them nervously from the doorway of the staff room, unsure about whether to ask the titans to leave before they run the kitchen dry, or to take advantage of the publicity.)

cy and star are a couple that isn’t inclined to subtle about anything. that means smooching all the time. mwah noises. flirting. glomps. yelling at shit together for fun– cy just expresses himself loudly, while shouting at each other is a form of affection on tamaran. they’ll sometimes wrestle, sometimes arm wrestling and sometimes all out full-body on the floor (actual wrestling tho, not a innuendo; star usually wins). they keep denting walls and furniture with their messing around and the other titans are like /(e_e)\ *passing out earplugs* and at some point robin is like guys… just… keep it in your rooms please

but being loud isn’t exclusive to daytime. nobody fucking knows how the hell an alien and a robot get it on, but based on all the god damn noise at night, they’ve apparently figured something out. maybe more than one something. it is a mystery

“hey, star… ever heard of a vibrator?”

most of their making out happens in the gym tho, let’s be real. they’ve been checking each other out for years in there. now they just get frisky after (or during, or before) a workout, culminating in yet another “workout”. they never lock the door, and after enough incidents the other titans just end up boycotting the gym entirely in lieu of the other training room

with the added privacy, star opts to work out in the gym without a top on. or a bra. then she heads for the treadmill

“you never wear clothing, cyborg, so why should i?”

cyborg keeps dropping his weights on himself and just ends up covered in dents, two mangled prosthetic legs, and having done no training at all

they’re such a peppy excited pair that sometimes things can get a bit too wild. there’s a pile in the back of cy’s room made up solely of dented/crushed/melted/ripped arm and leg prosthetics, all damaged because cy was busy pampering his superpowered alien gf a lil too much. starfire feels super bad but cy is like, he has to fix his limbs after a lot of battles anyway, it’s no big deal. he also hasn’t bothered to suggest a workaround yet because watching her lose control is hot (and maybe getting his hand melted is kinda kinky)

they sometimes troll the other titans– usually robin– by whispering in tamaranian behind them and snickering, pretending like they’re talking about them. robin used to be extra miffed by this, but after learning that cy’s tamaranian is actually still shit enough that he has yet to learn to string together a proper sentence longer than 3 words, robin knows they’re just fucking around with him. at one point robin turns around on the couch and throws some tamaranian right back at them and cyborg’s like :O what the fuck? what the fuck?? and star’s like yeah actually robin asked me to teach him tamaranian too. and robin’s like :) and cy is grumpy he can’t antagonize him with it anymore (and that it’s not exclusively his and star’s code language anymore, but really, you can’t own a language like that)

star likes to cart cy around while flying, but he’s just so bulky that he doesnt look all graceful and shit like robin; he just looks kinda goofy dangling in the air with her holding him under the arms. but even if he felt a little self-conscious, he forgets it quickly when she lets him skim the ocean with his feet or take him up over the clouds– he’d thought he lost everything with the accident that left him a robot, but getting to fly like this is something he never could’ve even dreamed of even when he was all human. like. this must be what it actually means to be living. everything happens for a reason

cy gets a UV lamp installed in his body just in case they get stuck somewhere and there’s no sunlight for star, he can’t replace the sun but it might help

he also turns his heaters up a bit when they’re cuddling coz he knows she likes warmth, as long as he’s not running the risk of overheating his system, but his metal parts can be cold to the touch and while she doesnt mind it at all he just wants her to be cozy….

cy’s like the only titan taller than star, so she usually floats to be eye level with him. he big and bulky and strong and he reminds her of galfore, and that’s part of why she always felt protected and safe around him. not to mention star’s been getting taller than most earth people her age; she sometimes feels like a tall poppy, sticking out of the crowd too much. so she lowkey enjoys being smol for once compared to cyborg, especially if she ever feels like hiding behind him, or being carried by him, the comfort of a sort of bodyguard that she doesn’t necessarily need but is there if she wants

i keep bringing this up but star sitting on cyborg’s shoulders/arms like. the result is this tall stack of a couple that towers over all the other titans– then like everyone will be chilling on the couch when they hear making out noises from above and they look up and its just star floating around cyborg’s head as they smooch and everyone’s like -_-

all the meme fun aside, they’re always able to confide in each other whenever they’re upset. they’ll sit together in silence and just lean on each other or hug and wait for someone to spill. if (when) it comes down to “will i ever fit in?”, because that kinda worry never completely goes away, they’ll be reassured that they know the few places they’ll always be accepted– and that’s in the titans, or in the unconventional relationship between a half robot and an alien nuclear bomb

star likes being around cy coz he’s so sturdy, in more ways than one– he’s strong enough to tank stuff so it’s safer to roughhouse with him. she loves being able to give the biggest of hugs without worrying too much about crushing a ribcage (earthlings and their Fragile Little Bones!)

cy loves how small star is compared to him bc shes fun to pick up or pluck from the air and cuddle ♥ and she’s so warm, just radiating heat both literally and metaphorically and she’s so full of life and heart, and cy’s once again reminded of what it really means to be human– by a goddamn alien, no less

they like to touch each other’s faces, just caressing n stuff like they do in “how long is forever” and the teen titans go comic #24, staring into each others eyes and shit and going all (uwu) they just love to touch each other okay even back when they were just friends!!!!!!!

HAVE I MENTIONED THE SMOOCHES. star will just kiss cy all over his face because its fun and she knows he likes it. then cy returns the favor, except with increasingly exaggerated kissing and nomming noises because it makes star laugh and blush like crazy. it’s horribly embarrassing for anyone else watching. star & cy are usually standing in the middle of the corridor by this point, and then robin was gonna head to his office, but once he sees the path is blocked– by this no less– just returns the way he came without a word

if anyone tries to make star feel uncomfortable for being alien or misunderstanding something, which does still happen sometimes, they’ll quickly find out they’ve got the goddamn terminator comin for their ass. or they’ll turn around and see 6 foot tall robot man with arms crossed and red eye glowing and he’ll be like (: hey there (:

star keeps leaving the garage with motor oil all over her face. none of the other titans knows how to address it, or if they even should, so they don’t

anyway theyre in love

#:)#text #cystar #im weak #yes i referenced teen titans go because ttg actually has the wholesome cystar content can you believe this. episodes just about them #and theyre really cute #fight me irl #might edit this later its a mess #long post

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thankchaosforspellcheck · 5 years

Text

Genius omens au

(aka a Girl Genius/Good Omens crossover because I’m not gonna stop being on this kick until something better comes out. Which nothing has yet.)

So I’ve got at least 2 ideas for this AU, first one goes like this:

Crowley and Aziraphale are both low-rung minions for competing families. Neither are from canon, and while one of them prides themselves on the “help” they spread to the local commoners, the other on the chaos. (they are both pretty chaotic, honestly).

Gabriel and Beelzebub are top-ranked minions who mostly handle all the paperwork.

The actual sparks never appear. The spark for Aziraphale’s family (who is essentially god) is too busy producing brilliant inventions to help the world... and then forgetting to include any instructions or telling anyone how they work. (She actually does this on purpose, as a bit of an experiment to see if anyone will ever actually ask her how they work & to see if they can work it out on their own) Meanwhile, the spark for Crowley’s family (Lucifer) creates horrific inventions meant to insight chaos and disaster on all those who are within it’s aim! ...Which would be a lot easier to do if he had neater handwriting. Or used less obscure scientific terminology. Or didn’t spill coffee on half of it!

So Aziraphale & Crowley’s jobs are essentially to go out and try to figure out how the inventions work without getting themselves killed (the latter bit’s more for Aziraphale for Crowley, honestly. And even then they only say that because they’re the “good guys”, not because they actually mean it), as well as to try to prevent the neighboring family from using their’s.

They are surprisingly good at their jobs though.

Like, weirdly so.

Everyone kind of assumed they were gonna be dead within the first week like all the past minions were.

(what they don’t know, is that they have 2 advantages on everyone else:

1. they met almost immediately and both went “oh shit he’s hot, hEY WHY DON’T I HELP YOU WITH THAT” and not only figured out how each other’s devices worked, but also realized that they negate each other (ex: one is meant to end world hunger, the other is meant to cause massive famines, together they make all the farms have solidly mediocre years)

2. they are actually both minor sparks, not that either has realized it yet. See, Aziraphale’s breakthrough was probably the quietest breakthrough in the history of the world and Crowley just kinda vaguely sauntered his way through a breakthrough, and everyone else was too distracted by the latest disaster to notice (Aziraphale’s breakthrough sparkwork was a quick fix he did on the flaming sword he was given by the family spark (It was so easy, I hardly needed to be a spark to do it) which he immediately gave away to the Spark’s daughter (who’s as mundane as you get) since she’s going to be traveling through the wilderness with her husband. Crowley’s was the Bentley, which is a horseless carriage he bought off a passing spark and fixed up in his spare time (look, there was barely anything wrong with it. I just did a bit of tinkering here, welded a few wires together there, and after some polishing and a good wax she was good as new! Took me forever to finish ‘er anyways, a spark’d hardly take an hour to do what I did).

Both of them have noticed that the other is a spark and revert to minioning when the other gets in a fugue. Neither notices when the other is minioning while in said fugue, and they never actually bring the sparking out up. Because they’re idiots.

Now, The second idea (under the cut because boy howdy did this get long!):

They are both still oblivious minor spark minions (because I just think think this fits them really well) But this time it’s with some known families

Crowley is a Heterodyne Jager, though not one of the ones that’s particularly noticed by people (not one of the oldest, but not young enough for, say, Bill or Barry to have seen him take the Draught)

You know how 99.9% of Jagers take the draught because they are just so devoted to the cause and want to serve the Heterodynes for the rest of eternity? Well Crowley’s that .1% that did it because everyone else was chanting “DO IT DO IT” at the time and he was just like “Welp, it’s not like I have anything else to do” and downed it.

(He’s possibly the only spark to take and survive the drought, no one has any fucking idea so he’s just considered as one of the minor foot soldiers. Which is probably all the better for him, since he would have been on a dissection table in 5 seconds flat otherwise)

He looks more or less like he does in the show, just with scales under his clothes, black claws on his hands (which he generally hides with gloves, and some fairly small (for a Jager) fangs. He definitely still has sunglasses, and if asked claims either “they look cool” or “I’ve got an eye condition and I don’t want a spark to make it worse or put lasers in” depending on who he’s talking to and how much they’ve annoyed him. He also grew some black wings some time after he drank the draught (which, if the Heterodyne knew about, they would be extremely interested in) which he keeps under his clothes and extremely close to his back.

He also doesn’t have too much of a Mechanicsburg accent since he kinda just fucked off on the first mission out of town and away from the Heterodyne that he could get (look he loves his master and thinks they’re creations are fascinating but that doesn’t mean he actually wants their attention)

he’s also part of the same batch that Beelzebub, Hastur, and Ligur came from and hates all of them.

Meanwhile, Aziraphale is a minion of the House of Valois, and has been for quite some time.

See, around the same time as Crowley was made a Jager, someone from the Storm King’s line (probably a von Blitzengaard) Decided that enough was enough and they were going to make their own Super soldiers (but prettier! and with wings and a melodious voice like an angelic choir and-!)

Aziraphale was the only survivor.

(He was not what the creator was aiming for.)

He also looks more or less like he does in canon, with beautiful white wings and white curly hair. He looks strangely normal for someone who went through a version of the draught, honestly. He does, however, still have the increased strength, durability, stamina, and whatever else the brau includes. It just showed up at a much slower rate, so it was put down as a bad job and discarded.

(the reason he survived is because he was the only one out of all the subjects who had even the vaguest of sparks. I think the duality of this is nice. One survives in spite of his spark, the other survives because of it)

So when he fails to be Angel Incarnate he gets a disappointed dismissal from his creator and gets sent out on some away mission he’s meant to never come back from

(he doesn’t, but it’s only because he met Crowley on the way there)

Several Generations later, they are wandering around the wastelands, vaguely hear about the Heterodyne boys recalling all their Jagers and turning over a new leaf, shrug, and disguise themselves so that they can follow the kids from a distance (because they’re still his Heterodynes dammit).

(or at least that’s Crowley’s reason. Aziraphale’s reason is that Crowley’s there and that’s good enough for him at this point)

They keep this up on-and-off for a good while whole events with the other and the attack at the castle happen and they lose track of them.

Crowley’s a bit worried, but figures he might as well just wander around the Wastelands like the others are and if he finds them, he finds them.

He was not actually expecting to find either of them

So you can imagine his surprise when Barry shows up near him one day with a toddler following him like a lost duckling.

So he does what any reasonable Jager would never do, and immediately goes up to the two and introduces himself and his husband TRAVELING COMPANION as everything but a Jager and Jager-knockoff.

Barry is, of course, paranoid at these complete strangers that seem vaguely familiar in the weirdest of ways, but they both seem genuinely nice and they both hate the other with a passion so he settles into an uneasy trust.

They both end up showing him their wings and explaining that they’re constructs who were made in such a way that they are immune to wasps.

(Crowley offers to demonstrate by eating one. Barry hastily declines)

They start traveling together and, after that uneasy trust settles into an easy one, he asks if he gets whatever signal that made him decide to start tracking down the Other solo

But Punch and Judy aren’t there. He never managed to run into them at all,

Crowley and Aziraphale, however, are.

Part 2:

Agatha Crowley-Fell has had a very normal, if interesting, life.

She’s raised by her two fathers (uncles, they insisted for a good long while until she points out that they’ve officially adopted her and they’re as much her parents as her biological ones are, and that she doesn’t think they’re replacing them, just adding to them (to which the respond with hugging and crying)) in Beetleburg.

one of which works as a librarian at the local college (where he is more then happy to help anyone who needs anything besides books.)

an unofficial elective is “how to borrow a book from Mr. Fell”. Everyone who passes gets hired by the university on the spot.

Crowley, meanwhile, owns a flower shop where all of the plants are guaranteed to be vibrant and spotless! (or else)

Occasionally, they’ll come to her right before bed and ask to see her locket, “to keep it in the best shape possible” they say. One will take it to another room, while the other sits with her and sings a lullaby until she falls asleep

it’s always back on her neck come morning.

As time goes on, her headaches slowly get better. She’s still never able to finish a project, but it pops up less during mild excitement or frustration.

They’re still incredibly annoying though

And then comes the day when her locket is broken and the Baron comes to town, and her life goes from tame to disastrous in a matter of hours.

#girl genius #good omens #crossover #genius omens au #anthony j crowley #aziraphale #agatha heterodyne

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