#i did it because my friend wants to drag me into extreme raids

[a-wild-things-rambles]

oh em gee if i spend small amounts of money i can improve shit things that get in my way <- finally caved and got some Ethernet cables n the wall plug things and now has a stable internet connection

#did i do it because it will help online work/working from home #no #i did it because my friend wants to drag me into extreme raids #and im not letting him down by disconnecting midway and taking 5 min to reconnect once we stop insta wiping

[lemonsystemmm]

I feel like I should talk about my experience as a past Aspenfrosten fan, because some of the shit that happened was wild.

The frist thing was when toybox banned me from Aspencord for starting a "raid' (I was just messing with some pro Endo servers with a friend.)

The second is how they will drag your name through the mud for not being the same about privacy. Example:

The next is Exploit threatening people in brassys discord as well, all that we want is to be left alone by their system and community.

Lastly the mods that she has had have been horrible (Msit-Elta'ji'kw for example.) accusing us of parading around my source, and calling us racist because of my source. From what I know he has left the server, but what he did was horrible.

Aspen has done many of the things she says she against, she isn't the one being attacked she is the attacker. It's been extremely annoying because you'd think a older system like that would know better to leave this stuff alone, but apparently not.

Tldr: Aspen and most of her past and current mods have been horrible, sending threats, accusing people, and general mistreatment of everything.

#traumagenic system #did system #plural system #system stuff #anti endo #pluralgang #endos fuck off #actually plural #plurality #endos dni #brassy #brassycord

[goldenteaset]

You know, on the matter of Granblue's Dearest Friend event, since you wrote about it

I did like it a lot, but I think I liked the concept much more than the execution. It felt a bit dragged out at times and the ending by contrast felt extremely rushed and was overall a bit confusing.

But I'll be the first person to admit that I lost my mind when they told us "Yeah, it's gonna be a high school event and Belial and Lucilius will be there"

Just. Unforgettable. Iconic. Incredible.

Also it was fun to look into the meanings of their name and go full insane conspiracy theorist, I remember going a bit off the deep end back then

I'll also freely admit that I'm a bit deranged and deep in withdrawal, so whatever crumb of Belial they're willing to throw me, I'll eat it up, but he was undoubtedly the high point of the event

He and Lucilius, who fits surprisingly well into a high school setting, his entire "I'm gonna kill God because life sucks" mentality is peak 14 year old

But the one moment that elevated the event for me, is etched forever into the inside of my skull and permanently altered my brain chemistry is the Oribe raid battle where he pulled out his belt to beat you with

It was so unexpected and yet so fitting and perfect and to this day I think about Belial proper using the many, many belts he wears with every outfit for things other than keeping his pants just barely on his hips

Not necessarily just for hitting people, but also tying them up, I could even see him using them as a makeshift leash to drag his hapless victims around with. The sky is truly the limit

I'm sorry for bringing that into your inbox, but I felt the need to confess my sins

Anyway, big fan of your work <3

It's more than okay, nightmarenoise!! I'm really hyped, in fact. :D

From the top: I fully admit I'm that weirdo who loves when a story ambles along, but that aside I agree with you about the ending! The writers didn't need to use Lyria and Vyrn as apologetic mouthpieces "not going to Auguste this year". The ending would've worked a lot better if they hadn't done that, I think.

...Though speaking of that ending, if it turns out that Dearest Friend was written out of chronological order with "something else" (read: whatever's planned for Belial), I'd believe it.

The names! God I wanted Oribe to be a "shining prince" ("Akihiko") so badly, but it works on an ironic level. Maybe he's like that with his girls?

At this point I'm also in withdrawal but cooking frantically, so I understand. ^^; The crumbs are quite enjoyable but am excited for something more filling. (And it'll happen! They gave us Adam and Caro almost back to back...)

"I'm gonna kill God because life sucks" mentality is peak 14 year old I've been clapping like a seal at this for the past few minutes, thank you for the joy~

THE BELT. It was truly a life-changing moment! I always wondered why, besides accessories, he had so many, and then suddenly we knew! He could even try to pick a belt that matched the lover's taste... *v*

The entirety of that "All three of us, together~" combo still turns me into a squeeing mess (and the times he's been around Lyria after that haven't helped), but The Belt absolutely did leave a strong impression! "You need a spanking and I'm the man to do it", and then lo, he did...

Thank you again! Both for the ask and being a fan~ :D

#asks #granblue fantasy #belial gbf #nightmarenoise #thank you!

[dreamxloki]

Happier

summary: reader has been trying their best to move on from their breakup with tom. until a couple of weeks later, they bump into each other...

warnings: slight angst, fluff

a/n: this is officially the second part of traitor !! hope y’all enjoy !! reblogs are appreciated <3

<y/n pov>

Seeing him in a relationship straight after coming out of ours was majorly painful. To see him move on that quickly, proved to me how actually weak and pathetic I truly am. Did I even mean anything to him?

I haven't seen or talked to tom since the breakup. It wasn't because I didn't want to, it's because I've been too busy crying my eyes out over countless of nights. I know I'm supposed to be moving on and forgetting about him. But what is there to forget about him? He is the most perfect, handsome gentleman a girl could ever ask for. Well, that's at least what I thought.

I just wish I could at least see him once more and tell him how I really feel. Maybe even talk some actual sense into that lying backstabbing dick!

Ugh, boy were my emotions all over the place.

Days went by and soon those days turned into weeks. I have finally distracted myself away from any sad thoughts I had about Tom. I spent more time around my friends and family, finally being able to enjoy life again. Even though I rarely left my apartment anymore. But anyways now all that was left to feel about tom was pure anger.

At some point during the week, I must’ve raided my kitchen a lot since when I checked my cupboards this morning to look for some breakfast, there was barely any food left. So I had to physically drag myself out of my apartment to the supermarket to restock the supplies. Though it was nice to be actually getting out again. Instead of being cooped up in that apartment all day.

I decided to walk to a close by supermarket since I didn't really feeling like driving or going anywhere too far. I just wanted to be back in my cozy apartment as soon as I could be.

I quickly chucked on some leggings and a sweater. I didn’t felt like getting to dressed up since I was only going to the grocery store. I then slipped on some sneakers and headed out the door. I decided to put my air pods in, so I could at least listen to some music while walking there. So I put on my favourite vibes playlist and begun walking to the supermarket.

I was about half way back to my apartment until someone rudely bumped into me and make me spill my still extremely hot coffee all over myself. I gasped at the sudden hot contact of liquid on my skin. Which made me drop the bag of groceries. I let out a groan of frustration.

“argh.. you asshole !!” I said while trying to detach the soaked t-shirt that was now sticking to my chest.

"oh my god, i'm so sorry let me help you with that". a familiar voice said.

I slowly look up to see someone who I fully wasn't even expecting on seeing, a tall handsome young man.

Tom.

I let out a breath that I didn’t even know that I was holding. Once he realised it was me. All we could do was to just stare at each other blankly. and awkwardly.

All of a sudden I started to panic. I needed to get out of there asap. So I bent down to pick up the dropped groceries and quickly put them back in the bag. I soon see Tom’s frame appear in front of me again. He started to help pick up the groceries.

“oh my, let me help you with these..” he quickly said. Once all the groceries were picked up and put back safely in the bag, I let out a breathless smile and then started to walk away.

Tom quickly ran up ahead of me to make me stop in my tracks.

"y/n. wait. please hear me out okay?". Tom said in his sweet calm voice.

I slowly travel my eyes to look back up at him. Finding it extremely difficult to maintain eye contact.

"what is there to hear out tom? we broke up months ago, I've moved on and you obviously have as well now. So why can't we just leave it at that?". I said trying my best to push past him.

"see this is exactly why I left. you never let me explain.. you’re always the one to speak first". Tom said in a huff.

I bite the inside of my mouth and blankly stare at him. He had a point. But yet he wants to explain? Fine. I’ll let him explain.

"okay fine. explain to me then tom. why were you hanging out with taylor so much? and well needless to say, BEHIND. MY. BACK. during our relationship? and weren’t you the one to say ‘no lies and no secrets?’" I said trying my best not to lose my temper. Even though I could hear my voice slightly breaking.

It seemed like he wasn't expecting me to actually say that. His whole expression changed for a moment. But then changed once more when he realised he needed to start explaining now before I ran off from him again.

"y/n look." he started off slowly. I could feel his hands coming up to my shoulders and holding them lightly while looking directly at me.

I could feel my eyes watering up a-bit. I was not prepared to bump into him today. I planned on to get my groceries and then enjoy the rest of the day with some good old television, without any worries. But no. Tom had to show up out of nowhere and ruin that for me.

I was still waiting for him to speak up, So I was the one to come out with the next bunch of words. Which I very knew well that I was keeping in for way too long.

"Actually, you know what tom?, how about you hear me out first?". I say looking at his gorgeous blue eyes.

ugh.. y/n control yourself

He gave me a blank stare back and lifted his hands off my shoulders while giving a light nod.

^^^ Start the song now if you like! ^^^

We broke up a month ago.

I started to say. Also while trying to avoid any eye contact, knowing saying any of this while looking into his eyes will make it way harder then it already was.

Your friends aren't mine, you know, I know.

"where is this going y/n?" Tom asked curiously.

You've moved on,  found someone new..

Tom lets out a shaky sigh. Feeling a bit guilty inside. Knowing what he did, hurt me immensely.

One more girl who brings out the better in you.

Tom started to feel his heart break more and more with everything I’m saying to him.

And I thought my heart was attached. For all the sunlight of our past.

"y/n.." before tom could say much more y/n continued on.

But she's so sweet, she's so pretty. Does she mean you forgot about me?

I could feel my voice breaking at that last sentence. But I needed to stay strong. Get all these emotions out and let Tom know what i've been needing to say.

I could tell Tom was desperately wanting to say something but he couldn't seem to find the words to what he wanted to say.

Oh, I hope you're happy, but not like how you were with me. I'm selfish, I know, I can't let you go.

Tom grabbed my hand intertwined it with his. I shivered at the feeling. I missed his touch so much. More than I even realised.

So find someone great but don't find no one better. I hope you're happy but don't be happier..

I could see the tears twinkle down Tom's face. He really feels extremely guilty.

And do you tell her she's the most beautiful girl you've ever seen? An eternal love bullsh*t you know you'll never mean. Remember when I believed you meant it when you said it first to me?

"Please y/n. stop this." Tom said in almost tears. While also squeezing my hand a little bit more tighter than before.

I just kept spilling my feelings out. Not caring if he wanted to stop or not. He needed to know. And I needed these feelings out and free.

And now i'm pickin' her apart. Like cuttin' her down make you miss my wretched heart.

Tom moved towards a bit more leaving a small gap between us. I could feel the same butterflies I would get when we were together.

But she's beautiful, she looks kind, she probably gives you butterflies...

"She's not you y/n". Tom suddenly said.

His sudden words make me stop in my tracks. I finally look back up at him, to already seem him looking back at me.

"Then why did you leave me for her?" I say. I could feel my stomach tighten at the heartbreaking words.

"Because i'm an complete idiot y/n. I thought I could get over you straight away. But I couldn't, you have never left my mind since I.. left. and well.. I- I still.." his voice lingers for a bit.

"I still love you y/n. and I don't think I have ever stopped loving you from the first moment I saw you. you mean the whole world to me and I was stupid to ever let you go." He said sweetly while keeping amazing eye contact.

I smile lightly at his words. Suddenly it felt like the whole didn’t exist around me anymore. I couldn’t think clearly anymore. Yet, I wasn't sure if I was even thinking at all.

I stood up on my tippy toes and brung his lips to mine. Kissing him passionately. His lips felt soft. Just how I remembered them. As our lips moved in sync, it felt like there was nothing else in the world but us. It felt magical. It also made me realised how much I’ve truly missed him.

After breaking apart from the kiss I leaned my forehead against his and closed my eyes just taking in the moment.

"I broke up with taylor this morning." I hear tom whisper. I slowly opened my eyes and look at him removing my forehead from his.

All I could do was look at him and give him a small smile. We stayed silent for a few minutes until we decided to head back to my apartment to unpack the groceries and talk things through.

Did this mean we were starting over? I goddamn hope so.

#Spotify #foryou #trending #hiddlestoners #tomhiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #fanfic #hiddlesarmy #fluff #angst with a happy ending #tomblr #happier #dreamloki

[elizabethrobertajones]

Just saw some art that reminded me of my own Stormblood dragoon experience. So, Frog hit 70 Dragoon out in the Azim Steppe while doing the MSQ. I think I hadn't quite unlocked flying yet. But you see, you only need access to the Azim Steppe to get to the 70 job quest because it's not gated behind any higher level area. So I tootled up to it probably still wearing like level 63 gear or something, started the quest, and got all the cutscenes out the way, started the fight, and got absolutely murdered.

Then my brother pointed out it would be a lot less hard if I finished the MSQ (he was always nagging me to do that for some reason) and collected at the very least some 69/70 dungeon gear and quest stuff for Dragoon so I could actually do the fight without being auto attacked to death. And like, eh, not like you need better gear than what I had to continue doing literally anything other than the 70 DRG quest. So I nodded and got on with doing that. But I did really want to get that quest done so I pretty much just waited until I had Castrum Abania upgrades and 68 quest reward gear and tried it again, and did actually beat it after much travails, learned the meaning of friendship and love etc, as you do.

So in Frog Canon, like, the order of events that unfolded as Bounding Frog, warrior of light, was fighting the Stormblood war on two fronts, was this:

Estinien leaves Ishgard and heads directly for the great big hole in the ground that he stares ominously at in a mid-Stormblood cutscene

Despite ominous pronouncements about what he has left to do, he gets distracted and travels all the way to the Far East after deciding maybe the hole in the ground at least is someone else's 70 raid series problem, and I guess he hit a dead end investigating that.

Frog encounters him in the Azim Steppe having his hot girl summer literally at peace, blissed out, free of all burdens save his newfound purpose

Estinien is like "What are you doing here anyway?" and she's like "Ummmmm we're kinda kicking the Garleans out of every single province at once because the twins have absolutely no concept of moderation I guess?"

Estinien looks at Orn Khai and says, "Oh no. Listen, small and extremely ambitious friend I have adopted. I have another, smaller but even more ambitious friend who is doing stupider things. Can you wait here for like. A week. I'll be back, I have all the aetherytes between here and Ishgard unlike some people."

Estinien teleports back the nearest aetheryte in Gyr Abania he has and stealthily follows Alphy around until he needs to do a big damn hero moment uncredited.

Estinien teleports back to the Far East and sits on a rock sharpening his spear and looking moody for a few hours

He and Frog do the 70 job quest together

He's like "cool so did you finish the war so we can hang out?"

She's like "no lmao I still have to liberate Ala Mhigo. Wild, right?"

Estinien slowly drags his hand down his face.

He returns to Gyr Abania to appear in the appropriate cutscene after the Stormblood quest is complete

He returns to the Far East to hide in Kugane until Krile comes to get him for the next time he canonically appears and this whole thing explains is why he is SO resentful that anyone would dare try to pry him out of just sitting down for FIVE MINUTES.

#I feel bad I did that to him #but at the same time he's the one who chose to be on two continents at once #it is very important to me that I hold that it happened this way #Estinien really did not get a moment of peace #I am just glad that I unlocked just about the most complicated sequence of movements #stormblood spoilers #ffxiv

[lokiessnyx]

Review Of Savage Lands #1

You know I am beginning to understand book burning. Yes it is truly that bad.

I saw this book the other day and I saw that a reviewer I liked gave this book four stars and I decided that I would try it. From the second chapter I realized what a big mistake I made.

We start the book with our main character obviously bexelely. I must warn you that I cannot be bothered to write her ridiculous name properly. So bexly is about to steal supplies from trains to give to the poor with her best friend Caden. Now she makes sure to tell us that she is not doing it for the poor people, no she does it for the thrill. Now that's fine, not everyone has to be a paragon of goodness.

Now we are made to believe she is so great at doing this, and I just wonder how she has never been caught. For the two times raiding we see her be an idiot, waste time, and nearly get caught the first time and actually get caught the second time.

Now she gets her best friend in trouble since his father is someone important and he gets mad at her. They have some boring teenage romance angst going on between them. Now though I do agree that Beatly is an idiot, I'm not going to excuse Caden caught she did not drag him away unconscious, he agreed to help her so it's also on him.

Now the second chapter is where I encountered the second problem.

I knew I was different from most girls around here. My Russian and Irish roots gave me pale skin, but extremely dark and sharp features. “Unique” and “stunning” were words I heard the most, along with “intimidating.” I had a lot of male attention and interest, but most guys stayed away, like an invisible line had been drawn around me. Either they were scared of me or didn’t want to cross the most formidable cadet at the school.

--Chapter 2.

Our main character was a vain brat and for some reason everyone is in love with her and she makes sure to let you know that. Not only does she repeat how slim and inhumanely beautiful she is, other people do.

“Sergiu?” I gagged. “Are you serious? Gross. Plus, haven’t you heard the rumors about him?”

“His kink is beating up prostitutes he’s screwing, and he won’t date anyone because he thinks he’s above everyone?” She shrugged. “Yeah, but think how riled up Caden would get if you flirted with him. Might finally get him to act. Because Sergiu would fall over his tongue to get to you. All men do.”

The men really took it personally, proving sexism was still alive and well. Not just because I was a slim, petite-boned girl, but it seemed to piss the boys off that I was pretty too. As if that was the reason they lost their concentration. As if someone who looked as I did shouldn’t be able to outmatch them.

-- Chapter Three

I wasn’t the kind of girl who enjoyed getting dressed up in torturous outfits and shoes, and I was rarely on my best behavior with stuffy, boring people. I’d rather be in my cargo pants and tank hanging out with Caden, drinking palinka.

-- Chapter Three

Of course she is not like other girls.

“Yes, she is.” Vale chuckled, stepping up to me. “Most grown men, fae or human, pee their pants when we show up.” He pressed the gun I’d briefly held into my temple while the healer dressed my wounds. “You are a spirited one. Gave me a little rush, human.”

--Chapter 8

“It’s only been six days since her capture; she is still healing, but don’t underestimate her,” Sloane added, pushing me forward toward them.

--Chapter 9.

Even the people that hate her kind and want to enslave her are complementing her. It's annoying every time it happens cause its just a waste of page. Like we know girl.

Back to the narration. So she is in her fight academy or something where she is getting her butt kicked because she did not sleep well. The guy she is fighting with that for reason want to sleep with her calls her a hoe and says she slept with him years ago and the class is all fascinated with all this tea but Berdly wont allow this blow to her ego so she gives this wonderful comeback:

“Honestly, you were so incompetent in bed, I’d be surprised if you can even get yourself off.” My voice went low and husky.

There was a beat.

“Oooohhhh, dammmnnn!” A few guys laughed, covering their mouths in shock.

--Chapter 3

What a middle school insult like if you ever said that as a comeback in my class you would have been laughed at and mocked. Like its so lame. This class must be starved for comebacks if that comeback warrants ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh and dammmmmmmmmmnnn. See how annoying that is and that leads to me third problem with this book. The author's exclamations. She stretches out words needlessly for no reason and for me of all people to notice it. It was done a lot.

Anyway, she beats him up because she is so wonderful and sees Caden randomly leaning on a wall looking mad about Berdly sleeping with that guy, and leaves. Her best friend comes up and the interaction goes like this:

Random friend whose name I do not remember: Oh my gosh girl did you really sleep with that guy. You are soooo much better than him.

Berdly: I know right.

Friend: So spill the tea, what's going on with you and Caden. He looked so pissed with Aron saying those stuff.

Berdly: Oh, we're just friends and he doesn't like me and it's not like we almost kissed yesterday or something.

Friend: Omg girl. I have the perfect plan for you guys to get together. So at the party tonight---

Berdly: What party?

Friend: The one Caden's dad is hosting for the official visitor.

Berdly: Oh I don't care about stuff like that at all. I'd rather be drinking with the boys.

Friend: Whatever back to my plan. So you know Caden was just angry at you for sleeping with another guy who is a jerk and treats you like crap, I want you to go flirt with that guy that beats the woman he sleeps with and Caden will be so jealous and confess to you. This will totes not go wrong at all. Also did I mention that you are beautiful.

After that horrible exchange we cut to Bexly dressing for the party while Caden's mum tells her that she is beautiful and there was time when woman had a choice to marry refuses to elaborate and leaves.

She gets to the party and she notices Caden is drinking and she immediately assumes it's because of her because of course everything revolves around her. They have a then boring melodramatic conversation where they almost confess their love for each other but are conveniently interrupted by Caden's father who takes them to meet the visiting official after a while. We then have a truly disgusting paragraph about the man's wife.

“Yes. We do.” Lazar[visitng official] twisted to peer behind him, flicking his head at the figures. His stunning wife, Sorina, stepped forward, silent and demure. She used to model, prostitute, and work in adult movies before he pulled her from the trenches and made her rich and pampered. He treated her similar to a second-class citizen, and probably reminded her at every turn he could send her back into poverty’s cruel embrace. She smiled and did all the right things but was vacant and dead behind her eyes. I wanted to feel bad for her, but she made her own bed…

Really Bexly. A woman who lives in the dregs and poverty and probably was forced to sell her body for money find a man who marries her and shares his riches with her. He treats her badly but she can't leave because she is will return to prostitution and poverty and it's her fault not the fault of the system you live in or something. The system that Bexly benefits her. This is the moment when this book became truly bad to me.

Caden's Dad then reveals he plans to marry her off to the visiting official's son [the one who beats the woman he sleeps with]. Bexly is horrified at this but I could only think that well, you made your own bed.

Caden gets pissed off and leaves. Bexly then realizes that the reason she is being married off is because Caden's Dad want her to be the woman who will take control over the official's land. Bexly mentally swears to put everything she has learned to good use and she will made him proud and this was the one moment I sensed something good in this book but it is promptly thrown away a few lines later.

Bexly still feels overwhelmed by this and run away from the party in heels. I have to give her that though, running with heels *shudders*. She meets up with Caden drunk and lo and behold he confesses his love to her and we have this interaction that had me wondering what in the Romeo and Juliet was I reading:

“Why?” he snapped back to me. “We should probably start learning not to. You’ll soon be confiding in your husband.”

“Stop.” My lip lifted in a grimace. “Don’t even start that shit. You think I want this? You think this is what I dreamed of? The man I wanted to spend my life with?”

“Then refuse.”

“Refuse?” A barked laugh tore at my throat. “Like it’s so easy.”

“Why not?”

“Don’t make this sound as if it’s simple. I have nothing, Caden. Nothing.”

***

Caden froze, not moving away, but not moving closer, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Brex, don’t.”

“Why?” Pain and desperation rang in the single word like a bell. “Don’t you want to kiss me?”

His chest moved violently up and down. “More than you know.”

“Then please, Caden.”

Agony flinched his cheek. “I can’t.”

Rejection filled my eyes, shattering my chest as if ice cracking open.

He grabbed my cheek, his warm palm cupping my face, his eyes wild and desperate.

***

“That’s why I can’t.” Both his hands slid along my jaw, drawing me closer to him, his mouth skimming mine. “Because if I get a taste of you, I will never be able to let you go. And seeing you with Sergiu…it will destroy me.” He leaned his forehead into mine, torturing me with the proximity of his lips, his hot breath against my mouth.

***

He inhaled sharply, like I was breaking him down. His mouth skated over mine, landing on the corner of my lips, kissing me softly. “I can’t. Kissing you, being with you, will destroy me. I must do the right thing.” He drew back, tearing my heart from my chest, gutting me, bleeding out my hope. “Ask anything else from me, and I will give it to you. But this I can’t. I won’t come back from it.”

---Chapter Six.

Like we get it guy, smooching our lovely MC will destroy you. Anyway she decided to take advantage of this moments and decides to go raid the Trains again. He's reluctant but she guilt-trips him.

At this point I was only reading to see the Warwick guy the summary mentioned. I mean a good love interest can change a book. So I continued on.

So once again we see how much of brilliant thief she is. She waste time, ignored her lookout and only left at the last moment when the guards were already upon them. They run, Caden escapes and our main character gets shot.

Would have been a wonderful ending but the Fae save her with magic or something and she lives. She attacks some of them, she gets her butt handed to her but then her captors who loathe her kind go on to say how wonderful she is.

At this point, I just gave up. Like no man, Warwick or whatever is worth the irrational rage I feel when I read another line. So this is the first Dnf of the year which I dropped because it was straight up bad.

If the writing was at least beautiful or something at least that would have made the book more bearable but no it reads like a mildly edited first draft.

Lets hope I have better luck with the next book I read.

1 Star.

#book blog #book review #savage land #bad books #onestar #rubbish #rubbish book #Febuary books #Febuary #But to be honest it feels good to hate something abit #Letting it out is fun #Review #2023 Books #Ran out of tags

[rendevousz]

freak

avengers x teen!fem!reader

summary: you get captured during a mission and the team saves you.

warnings: language, violence, brief misogyny, torture, **NO sexual assault (because as i was proofreading, i only implied most of the torture scenes because i didn't want to write it in graphic detail and i realised the vague wordings might be misinterpreted as sexual assault which IT IS NOT, just clearing it up), and also again, my inability to write good endings

word count: 4589

notes: i just rewatched iron man 2 so that explains justin hammer LMAO also ooc justin hammer because even tho mans evil, he gets extremely um.. cruel here but anyways i hope you enjoy this!!

you were 13 when you first met the avengers and 16 when you officially joined. you grew up as one of HYDRA's experimented children and the team had found you when they raided the base that you were in.

a small, sickly-looking kid you were, sat against your cell wall, hugging your knees. 13 but you could probably pass off as a 10 year old due to how malnourished and miserable you were. burying your head in between your knees, you covered your ears as the loud gunshot noises filled the whole place. the metal door of your cell slamming open against the wall had you whimpering, hands above your head in fear.

every time the door slammed open, guards would come drag you out for more experiments so it was an instinct for you to cower in fear at the sound.

"last room in the west hall, i found a little girl."

you heard nothing because you were covering your ears, preparing yourself to be forcefully dragged by the guards to the experiment room. but it never came.

"hey," a soft voice called. you were violently shaking at this point, breathing heavily as you tried to calm down. "hey, it's okay." the voice called out again and you felt them touch your shoulders.

your head immediately jolted up, flinching away from the stranger's touch. your eyes met a blue pair as you backed away into the corner in fear. "i'm sorry! i'm sorry, i didn't mean to." the man apologised. you slowly looked up at him, observing him. he had on a full black outfit, a quiver of arrows slinging on his shoulder and he was holding onto a bow.

"don't be scared. i'm here to help," he states with his hands out, as if to calm you down. "that's what they all say." you hissed through gritted teeth and a tear-stained face, glaring at him even though that could've been a very wrong move had it been with an actual HYDRA guard.

despite the strange feeling of being safe around this man, you didn't let your guard down. that's exactly what those scientists said seven years ago. trusting kind-looking men got you into this hell you never thought you would ever escape from and you weren't going to make the same mistake again.

"clint," a red-headed female, also in all black, entered through the open door of your cell with her pistol up. at the sight of the weapon, you broke your glare towards the man. your breathing quickened and you went back to your original position before the archer came; body pressed up against your knees and covering your ears with your palms.

"i'm sorry! i'm sorry! i'll come! please don't use that on me again," you whimpered, voice muffled as your face was hidden against your knees. the woman freezes mid-walk, looking at her friend with a bewildered expression.

"nat! put that away!" clint whispered harshly, eyes glaring at the pistol in nat's hands. nat's jaw dropped in realisation, a small gasp leaving her lips as she immediately put away her weapon.

she slowly makes her way to you and clint puts his arm out before she could get closer. he looks at her with a worried expression as he shook his head, as if telling her that she can't get too close to you. nat nods understandingly, crouching down a distance from you.

"hey," she spoke softly. "i promise you that we're not here to hurt you." you kept your face hidden from her, still hugging your legs tightly. nat sighs before sitting down.

"here, let's introduce ourselves. i'm nat and this right here is clint." you hear her speak and when you slowly lifted up your head, you saw the both of them sitting down in front of you, seeming to have made themselves at home in your pathetic cell. "what's your name?"

name? you had never been able to use your name before. you always kept your own name deep in your heart despite no one ever using it, afraid you would forget it if you stopped thinking of it. the only name they ever called you here was 'number five'.

"y/n," you whispered, still doubtful about these people's intentions. you almost burst out crying when you said your name out loud. that was the first time you introduced yourself with your actual name and not the number you were given ever since you were captured.

nat must have noticed this because she immediately spoke up, trying to distract you from your consuming thoughts. "y/n...that's a pretty name for a pretty girl like you. how old are you, y/n?" she asks again.

you contemplated once more but decided it was fine. you knew you were probably going to regret trusting these two strangers but what could be worse than what HYDRA has been doing to you for years?

"13," you muttered, looking down at your lap. you were now timidly seated cross-legged, playing with the tattered hem of your shorts. you heard a small gasp from one of them and looked up to see clint with his jaw dropped.

the two adults were both thinking of the same thing. how could you be 13? you were so small and sickly-looking, they didn't even think you were older than ten, let alone an early teen.

"i know you're scared and you have all the reasons in the world to be, but i promise you, we're here to help. we'll get you out of here, only if you trust us. will you trust us?" nat says. your mind was conflicted. you were either going to finally get out of this hellhole or you were going to be taken somewhere even worse than here. but could anywhere really be worse than here?

you decided to take a leap of faith and trust these two strangers. that decision had to have been the best decision you've ever made in your life.

you were now 18, an official avenger and you had the most amazing family you could've ever asked for. they were a bit on the crazier side but could you really have a normal family when said family consisted of superheroes? but you weren't complaining. you loved these people.

they were the ones who took care of you when you thought you had no one. having been a HYDRA experiment, you had abilities the normal human didn't. said ability being shapeshifting and healing. that's why you became an avenger. your shapeshifting ability was essential during missions where you had to sneak in and you being able to heal others was crucial when medic wasn't able to be there on time.

you pretty much came along to every mission despite the adults saying you don't have to. you knew they were only doing that to protect you from dangers of all those missions but how could you not when you had such abilities? they'd be much better with you helping.

that was why you were here, in bulgaria, fighting alongside the team. well, just steve, nat, clint, bucky and tony.

justin hammer had managed to get his hands on a type of out-of-this-planet weapon that tony was also trying to retrieve, and he had big plans with it. hence why the avengers had to come where hammer had wrecked havoc in; sofia, bulgaria. he had upgraded his robots with the tech used for the stolen weapon.

with evil robots attacking the whole city, it felt like you were living the story that wanda told you of what happened in sokovia before you met the avengers.

an hour passed before all of the robots had finally been taken down and you all knew you had to get to hammer before he activates more robots to distract you guys and uses the weapon for bad things.

"tony, have you located hammer?" steve's voice sounded in your ear through the comms. you had just finished healing the nasty gash on clint's side, nat's cut on her forehead and the bruises all over bucky. you were feeling significantly weaker now, from the amount of healing you did. you stumbled slightly when you walked and bucky immediately held onto your arm. "doll, are you okay?"

"i'm fine, buck. nothing i haven't dealt with before," you told him, gently removing his grip on your arm, walking back to the quinjet.

-

"no, absolutely not. we are not sending y/n right into a death trap. she's not even strong enough right now, she just finished healing us."

you were all back at the compound now and planning a second attack on justin hammer.

"it's not a death trap, buck. and i know you're worried but she's the only choice we got. y/n, all you gotta do is sneak in as one of his henchmen and provide entrance for us. once we get in, we'll take all his guards down and get that weapon from hammer and we won't have to worry about his world domination plans anymore. it'll be over as soon as it starts and she'll be back safe with us. sound good, y/n/n?"

"yeah, sure." you agreed, already having a person in mind that you were going to change yourself to.

-

the plan had gone just as steve wanted and they managed to raid justin hammer's building, tony stealing the very item that could've aided in the massacre of millions. justin and his henchmen managed to escape the building before the avengers could catch them.

"well, that was anticlimactic," tony scoffs, already making his way to the quinjet. "but good job, y/n. you saved the day once again."

he expected to hear a laugh from you, like you usually did, being the only one who ever responds to him after missions. but instead he was met with silence. "kid?" still no answer.

"y/n, where are you?" steve panicked, finally realising that you were the only one who hasn't responded in a hot minute. "y/n/n, this isn't funny." he breathed out.

"she's...she's gone."

-

"well, well, well," a voice spoke right as you woke up from your slumber. you squinted, noticing that you were in some sort of dark room with only one light bulb right above you. "what do we have here?"

a figure walks right in the light and you could barely make out justin hammer's ugly face with how dizzy you felt. "if it isn't the little freak." he states condescendingly, smirking down at your helpless position, both wrists and ankles cuffed onto the metal chair you were sat on. you struggled against the restraints, trying to get free but to no avail.

your breathing quickened, your current vulnerable state reminding you of your later years in HYDRA. they had started off experimenting on you on a metal gurney but as you grew older, you realised that what they were doing to you was bad so you started fighting back. that ended you up on a metal restraint chair instead of the gurney, strapped to the chair with cuffs on your wrists and ankles.

this felt like deja vu. the same panic you felt, the same breathing difficulties, the same amount of effort put into trying to get out of the restraints. "you should know, princess, that that doesn't work." hammer chuckled, a fake pout on his lips as he crouched in front of you, a rough hand on your cheek. you instinctively jerked away from his touch, to which he paid no mind to because he had expected that. he then grabbed your chin harshly, turning your head up towards him. you glared at him.

"you think i didn't know what you did? snuck in as one of my men using your freaky powers? not to mention useless. imagine having powers but not being able to use them to even escape from mere humans," he laughs in your face, harshly letting go of your chin, throwing your head backwards. "you tell me where stark planned to bring the weapon and i'll let you pretty little thing go."

"no."

before you could even comprehend, his fist came flying at your face and your head dropped to the side at the impact. your left cheekbone was throbbing and you could already tell you were gonna have a black eye. despite the pain, it wasn't something you weren't used to. you were an avenger, after all. getting decked in the face was practically in the contract.

he grabbed your chin once again, pulling your head upwards to face him. "you're gonna tell me where it is or i'm gonna make you regret it."

you looked up at him with a bored look. he punched you again. and again. and again. until you could taste the blood on your tongue. "think you wanna tell me now, sweetheart?"

"never. not to someone like you."

the man seemed to get a kick out of beating you up because he punched you again in the face. your whole face was pretty much numb now and the metallic taste in your mouth intensified. you smirked at the man before you, chuckling darkly.

"sure, beat up the helpless girl. that's the only way you can beat me, right? when i'm all tied up? what a man,"

his hand was around your throat within a second and he forced you to look him in the eyes again. "sweetheart, you're a girl. tied or not, you're still weak. not even with that useless power of yours."

taking advantage of how close his face was to yours, you gathered as much bloody saliva in your mouth before spitting it in his face.

it was very much the wrong thing to do because after he wiped off his face, he left the room and two men came in, various tools in hand for their fun with you.

-

"stark! my buddy! how's it going?" justin hammer's face appeared on the screen in the conference room, where the avengers were having a meeting about your possible whereabouts.

"where is she?!" wanda growled, standing up abruptly.

"what ever do you mean?" hammer smirked, feigning innocence. "you know what we mean. where is she?" steve spoke authoritatively, trying to control his anger at the sight of the man's face.

"i'll tell you where your thing is if you tell me where my thing is." he smiled wickedly. this caused wanda to get angrier. "y/n is not a thing! and the weapon was never yours in the first place!" vision held onto her to calm her down and it worked because she sat back down, though still glaring at the screen.

"oh she's not a thing? seems like it to me, though." he smirked and the team frowned, not understanding what he meant until they heard screams and justin's smirk widening at the sound. what a sick bastard. "what are you doing to her?!" bucky screamed, knocking his chair back as he stood up.

"i don't know, you tell me." he chuckles, and the screen changes to the live footage of you in the restraint chair with the two men in the room.

you were no longer fighting back now, just sat limply with your head dropped to the side. the first hour with them, you had been fighting back like you did with justin, despite the restraints, but now entering the second hour, you were too exhausted for anything.

your left eye had been swollen shut, you could barely breathe through your nose, your cheeks were throbbing like hell and your bottom lip was busted. your head was the only thing that moved freely when hit so the men seemed to find satisfaction the most when they punched you in the face. though that didn't stop them from inflicting pain on other parts of you.

"let her go, she's just a kid!" sam exclaimed, his grip on the edge of the table tightening to control his anger. peter and wanda were crying looking at the awful state you were in, clint, tony and bruce were silent in shock, steve and bucky were getting increasingly angry as the abuse continued.

"are you going to tell us where stark is keeping the weapon or have you not gotten enough?" one of the two men was heard asking, pulling your hair back to make you look up at him. you look at with your half-opened right eye, breathing heavily. "my answer's never gonna change no matter how many times you ask."

he scoffs, stepping back before the other man swings a bat right at your stomach. the air was immediately knocked out of your lung. the men laughed as you coughed up blood profusely. this caused wanda to get more hysterical.

"well, looks like she wants more. i'll call back when she's had enough. toodles," he waves his fingers at the camera with a sinister smirk before abruptly ending the call.

the room went silent after the call, save for bucky and sam breathing heavily from the anger they felt. bucky then turned to steve, pain could be seen on his face. "you said she would be safe."

"i–i'm sorry, buck. i didn't know he was gonna take her with him." steve was still frozen in shock, the image of you on the chair now permanently ingrained in his brain. in everyone's brains actually.

"guys, gear up, he's in colorado."

all heads turned towards natasha and she looked back at them with a 'what?' expression. "you were tracking him down the whole time?"

"um, duh? now come on, gotta save our girl."

-

you awoke to a stinging sensation on your inner forearm. after your bloody coughing fit, they proceeded to beat you up again and you were knocked out then. now you were slowly regaining consciousness but you were starting to prefer being passed out. your whole body was in pain and the fact that you couldn't even move made it even worse.

"oh, lookie here. sleeping beauty is up." you were met once again with justin hammer's ugly face. he was sitting on a chair perpendicular to your left side. you couldn't wait to get out of here so you didn't have to keep seeing his face every time you woke up. your inner forearm was stinging even more now so you looked down at it. you gasped at the sight.

"how'd you like my artwork?" he chuckled at your reaction. there on your arm, obviously carved out with the bloody knife that the asshole was so proudly holding on to, was 'FREAK'. carved out big and bold. on your skin. "pretty fitting, eh? freak? because, you know, that's what you are."

the blood was seeping out through the cuts and it stung even more now that it had been exposed to the air. the asshole moved his chair to your other side. "what should i write on this arm?" he feigns a thinking expression, looking up thoughtfully with his thumb and pointer finger on his chin.

"please, i–i don't know where tony put it. i really don't." you cried, tears now flowing freely down your face without a shame.

he looks at you with amusement. "what is this? are you...are you giving up already? can't take anymore?" he smirks and you sigh, closing your eyes. you just awoke but you were exhausted. so, so exhausted.

he takes out his phone, the smirk now permanent on his ugly face. "stark! kid's finally had enough. wanna tell me where the weapon is now or do you want to find her body at the bottom of the ocean?"

you couldn't even be bothered to react to his statement. the pain all finally registered and you were tired. tired and in excruciating pain.

"kinda busy right now, can you call back later?" you could hear tony's voice sound from justin's phone and the man beside you laughed. "i see you don't care for the girl. what could possibly be more important than saving her?"

"i don't know, you tell me." a voice said from behind you two and before you knew it, hammer was knocked off the chair he was on. you weakly turned your head just in time to see a metal arm force hammer up onto his feet before wrapping around his neck. "don't you fucking touch her again."

"y/n!" you heard wanda's voice as she entered the room with peter. more tears flowed down your face at the sight of them, stinging when they rolled past the cuts on your face but that didn't matter. your family was finally here to save you.

you saw the red mist of wanda's powers surround your cuffs before they clicked open. "oh, bubs, i'm so sorry." she cried, both hands hovering around your face, hesitating to touch you in fear of hurting you. her eyes fell onto the words carved out onto your skin and her mouth fell open before covering it with her hand. "i'm so sorry we couldn't get to you sooner." peter's voice cracked and you could tell he was emotional.

"it's okay," you told them, giving them a small smile, the biggest one you could give in your current state.

tony, sam and steve entered the room to see bucky relentlessly beating up your captor and wanda and peter standing by you as you cried.

"cupcake, we're here now. don't cry, you're safe now." tony came closer and despite knowing that you were because your family was finally here, you couldn't help but let out all the pent up emotions you've kept throughout your time of captivity.

sam had a go at justin once bucky was done and steve had to physically pry them both off of the sick bastard so that nat could cuff him and bring him back to the jet.

"y/n/n, i'm so sorry. if i hadn't–"

"it's okay, stevie." you cut him off. truthfully, you only did so because you knew he was going to giving a long-winded explanation justifying his actions and your headache couldn't bear to hear lengthy sentences. but you also didn't think it was in any way his fault so he didn't deserve to be beating himself up for this. shit happens, anyway.

"let's get you out of here, doll." bucky says, cringing when he sees the blood on the floor of your chair, as well as on your clothes. he quickly reaches to lift you off the chair but stops when you let out an ear-piercing scream of pain. "doll, i'm so sorry! did i hurt you?!" bucky questions in panic.

"y–you didn't, they did. it...it hurts everywhere," you cried, feeling hopeless that you couldn't even bear being carried by someone, let alone get up by yourself. their hearts broke when you said that. you never really cried much in front of them and you were known to withstand pain well because of how much shit HYDRA put you in as well as your powers being healing, meaning you had a higher pain tolerance than most people.

"it's okay, bubs. i got you. let's get you home, alright?" wanda's calming voice broke you out of your breakdown and red mist surrounded your whole body, wanda moving you with her powers. you were thankful of that because it didn't cause any more pain to your body.

maybe hammer was right. maybe you are just a freak with useless powers. wanda floated you into the jet and she set you down on the bed. "y/n, oh my god!" clint cried out once he sees you. you looked much worse than you did on hammer's camera footage during the call an hour ago. "kid, i'm so sorry."

"clint, take the wheel. bruce doesn't have all the resources needed. she needs to be treated ASAP." nat tells her best friend and he nods, taking the wheel and immediately taking off once everyone had boarded.

you were laid on the bed, right eye slightly open as bruce examined you. exhaustion hit you like a truck and before you knew it, you blacked out.

-

"how is she, doc?"

"pretty banged up but y/n, as i already knew, is a strong girl. lots of internal bleeding, broken bones, bruises and scars but she'll be fine. you can check her file later if you want," doctor cho tells tony outside of your room. "it's fine, can we see her?" he asks on behalf of the whole team standing behind him.

"yeah, of course! she woke up five minutes ago. i'll be off now, call me or my team if you need anything." she bids goodbye and left the group of superheroes.

steve slowly opens the door and there you were in bed, staring up at the ceiling. "hey, y/n/n," he greets sheepishly, feeling as though he had interrupted your alone time of blankly staring at the ceiling. the team trailed in behind him and soon your bed was surrounded by the avengers.

"hi, cupcake."

you looked away from the ceiling and turned your head towards tony. "oh, hey tones." you smile as sam helps you sit up while the rest sat on chairs all around you. "how you feeling, bub?" nat asks, eyes flickering down to the bold scarring of letters on your forearm.

"as okay as i can be." you answered truthfully, pressing your inner forearm closer to your body so the team doesn't see the letters carved onto your skin. you already know what you are, you didn't need the rest thinking so too.

"you're not a freak, bubs."

you look up at wanda. "i'm sorry, i didn't mean to read your mind. but they were awfully loud. you're not a freak, y/n. and you're not useless too. that bastard may have carved out that word onto your skin but the scar will fade. it's not permanent. you know why? because that's not what you are." she tells you, taking off her jacket to wrap it around you because you felt self conscious of the scars all over your arms where the team could see.

"yeah, doll. you're an amazing person and your powers help us so much. i mean, you saved millions just helping us get the weapon back from justin hammer. if you hadn't, well, who knows what could've been happening right now?" he places a gentle hand at the side of your head, stroking your hair.

"yeah and who heals us when we get really hurt during missions, huh? i mean, if you hadn't healed that stab wound i got during that mission in new mexico, i probably wouldn't even be here at this moment." clint tells you and you roll your eyes at him. "you're exaggerating."

"i am not!" he laughed and you playfully rolled your eyes once again.

"y/n/n, i'm really sorry for—"

"i don't wanna hear it, stevie."

"but–"

"no. it's not your fault. shit happens." you brush him off. "lang–"

"you say language to me, i'll blame this shit on you even when it's not your fault. try me, rogers." you glare at the blond super soldier. he raises his arms in surrender, leaning back on his chair as the team laughs.

the team continue to entertain you and you couldn't help but smile at the sight in front of you. these were the people who would drop anything for you and were willing to dropkick any asshole in the face for hurting you. justin hammer never had a chance against your family to begin with.

taglist <3

@amourtentiaa @rqmanoff @abitofeverythinggg

#avengers x reader #avengers x teen!reader #bruce banner x teen!reader #bucky barnes x teen!reader #clint barton x teen!reader #marvel x teen!reader #natasha romanoff x teen!reader #sam wilson x teen!reader #steve rogers x teen!reader #peter parker x reader #tony stark x teen!reader #wanda maximoff x teen!reader

[tarosin]

the great adventures of y/n tommy tubbo jack and ranboo - how y/n made friends with everyone

this is an extra to the great adventures series

requested: yes/no

warnings: cursing

tommy

you were actually friends with tommy when he was streaming to a few viewers, and you even watched as his channel grew. eventually he asked you to mod for him, as he knew he could trust you and because had experience being a twitch mod. he was also the reason you began streaming. as for how you met, you were in the same classes as him in highschool, and since you were the ‘quiet’ person in the class, they sat tommy next to you. honestly, you hated him when you first met him and the feeling was mutual. you didn’t want to sit next to the rather loud teenager and he had no one to talk to anymore as his friends were on the other side of the room.

“do you ever talk?”

“heh?”

“i said do you ever talk...do you always do that”

“do what”

“that fucking HeH.”

“are you mocking me simons?”

“noooo why would i do that...”

“it’s y/n.”

“right, yeah, yeah, i totally knew that.”

“great now please leave me alone i’m trying to work.”

“loser.”

“the fuck did you just say?”

“nothing.”

it was that moment tommy decided he was going to make you just like him, and a few years later that’s exactly what he did. by year 11 you and tommy had grown extremely close. the last day of school arrived a lot earlier than expected, everyone was extremely stressed, no one knew what to expect or what was going to happen. you found yourself hanging around with tommy a lot more as you had no idea if you would both be going to the same college, in september you received a text message that made your night:

tommy: college sent out emails telling you if you were accepted go check

*2 minutes later*

tommy: well?

y/n: i got accepted

tommy: me too

y/n: call me right now

tommy: i’m about to stream..have you ever considered streaming?

y/n: absolutely not

tommy: make an account and stream after me i’ll raid you..make me mod you know how people can be

once college started up, you were slightly nervous the two of you would drift away from each other. however this was far from the case, although you both did different subjects and he was only in on wednesdays, the pair of you would hang out together a lot more. he would be in your streams and vice versa, you would either be in his tiktoks, or you would be the one filming them.

“y/n make a tiktok we can be mutuals.”

“please god no.”

you spent so much time at his house either talking about random things, playing whatever game you could find, or streaming. he dragged you to every meet up he went on, allowing you to meet people such as niki, phil, and, wilbur. you didn’t know this, but he would constantly bring you up in conversations with dream, which eventually lead to you joining the smp in october where you would later be able to meet the likes of jack, technoblade and jschlatt. the only person you didn’t seem to see on the server was his other friend tubbo.

ranboo

you had become friends with scott after being his first twitch mod and when he noticed you started streaming, he was extremely supportive, always raiding your stream once he ended his. today you found yourself bickering with scott because he wouldn’t let you in mcc despite the fact you were ‘the best minecraft player.’

“y/n, i watched you die in minecraft 7 times last night within 5 minutes.”

“oh i’m sorry mr perfect, let me in mcc.”

“no.”

“fine i’ll make my own.”

and that’s exactly what you did..well you tried your best.

you started your stream as soon as scott ended and had him call you on discord after explaining to your chat what you were about to do.

“scott final chance let me in mcc, i’ll settle for access to the practice server.”

“fine.”

“REALLY?!”

“absolutely not!”

“fuck you, ill be in it one day!”

you left the call telling chat you didn’t need that negative energy in your life.

you really have scott to thank for you making friends with ranboo, scott made a tweet explaining what you were doing on stream which caught ranboos eye.

Smajor1995: after not making it into mcc again my good friend @y/n has decided to take it upon themselves to make their own on stream!! ill also be in the stream (if they answer my calls) *twitch link*

ranboo joined your stream and was instantly met with you yelling at scott (again) to let you in mcc.

“IM YOUR TWITCH MOD!”

“i will ban you from mcc!”

“you don’t have the nerve... so he left the call this is bullshit watch me land this water bucket clutch down this ravine so we can find axolotls and build an army.”

*you died*

you pulled your hood over your face before sinking down your chair taking a deep breath.

“FUCK!”

you calmly got back up and looked into your camera.

“i was so close, so very close.. HEY CHAT SCOTT SENT ME A LINK TO THE SERVER!”

a few minutes later you were able to get onto the server, only to be kicked less than a minute later. the reason you were banned being ‘i watched you fail the water bucket clutch down a ravine.’

you continued your build on your server and just spent the rest of the stream talking about anything that crossed your mind, that was until you decided to copy ace race. once finished, you looked into your camera and pulled your microphone closer to you.

“so this is race ace, so scott doesn’t sue me, and basically it’s going to be this course, but i’m going to change a random section practice it every day, not tell anyone it changed. of course i’m going to tell my team we have to win, oh fuck i forgot scott was watching my stream..it’s okay he didn’t hear me he’s too busy planning how he can rig the next mcc.”

ranboo found himself enjoying your content and even noticed you in his chat multiple times.

“just a minute chat i’m just sending an important dm to my mods.”

that’s when you noticed chat paused for a minute after you sent a message, it confused you for a minute before realising ranboo made you a vip on his channel and you decided to do the same for him on your channel, from there you added each other on discord. the pair of you made friends extremely quickly, you were constantly part of his streams as you would call him on discord not realising that he was streaming.

“hi y/n, by the way i’m streaming”

“i just wanted to ask if you knew how to break into a house?”

“....why”

“i locked myself out by accident and my parents are asleep come help me.”

“you are in the uk.”

“okay? catch a flight.”

chat honestly loved you and your friendship with ranboo. the pair of you only met a few weeks ago and you were already acting as though you had known each other for years.

jack

you and jack met for the first time on the smp, which would have been fine, however you met during lore and your characters weren’t exactly the best of friends. once lore had ended, everyone said their goodbyes and left the call. a few moments later you received a discord message from jack asking if you were available to call any time soon. since you were back in lockdown, you had plenty of free time. you arranged a time and date a few days later you called jack, where you had your first proper interaction out of character.

“hello jack!!”

“oh hi y/n i just thought it may be a good idea to get to know each other, well you know considering we’re both on the dream smp.”

“yeah, yeah, i understand what you mean.”

the pair of you ended up getting along with each other, it was slightly awkward for the first 5 minutes of the call, but that was expected since you hadn’t really met jack before and were anxious to call him. however, after that the conversation started to flow and you found out the pair of you had a lot in common making it easy to come up with things to talk about. it ended up feeling as though you were catching up with a friend you hadn’t spoken to for a while.

“has anyone told you your accent is really strong.”

“so is yours, y/n, what the fuck is that supposed to mean.”

“it means your accent is strong, duh.”

jack asked if you’d like to stay in call and join him on the smp whilst he streamed, and you gladly accepted the offer as you really didn’t want to do your college work, and you were enjoying your time with him. a few minutes into the stream jack had killed you several times.

“JACK STOP KILLING ME!”

rather than answering you he just sat laughing. he then went on to attempt to mute him microphone, he failed. however he didn’t realise this, so you sat listening to his plan on how he was going to kill you again. this time you were prepared, you sent a message to tommy telling him to log on along with your location. few minutes later tommy was by your side and helped you kill jack several times for revenge.

“Y/N...TOMMY!!”

“you didn’t mute your mic, so i told tommy you were bullying me.”

“im gonna go...BYE JACK, BYE Y/N, ILL SEE YOU SOON!”

“i can’t believe you.”

“hey you’re the one who didn’t turn your mic off.”

“how did you know?”

“i had your stream on my other monitor.”

“ayeee you watch my streams?”

“...i’ve been a sub for 4 months.”

the two of you stayed chatting and playing for another hour. the pair of you were already so close and you had only met each other the other day. this was just the start of your friendship, soon enough you were in a laugh and the stream ends challenge on his stream, however due to lockdown rules this was done over discord leading to you accidentally leaving the call several times.

“and they’re gone again!”

*4 minutes later*

“SORRY JACK IM BACK!”

“stop leaving y/n!”

“oh i’m sorry, let me just go yell at my wifi to stop cutting out!”

a few seconds later you could be heard faintly in the background screaming at your wifi as it would continue to buffer. as soon as restrictions were over one of the first things you decided to do was go to jacks and stream a laugh you lose where there was a punishment if you were responsible for losing the last heart. however everything was apparently hilarious in person as you would constantly laugh, meaning you were responsible for losing the last heart.

“y/n give me your phone.”

“no.”

“you lost let me tweet from your account”

“fine..”

soon enough your fans and friends with your notifications on received this twitter notification

“y/n: jack is so cool and funny he is also really tall i am not”

tubbo

tubbo was actually the last person you met and made friends with, your community were convinced for some reason that you both didn’t like each other and that’s why the pair of you didn’t talk to each other. this was far from the case you were both waiting for the right time, tubbo was an extremely busy teenager and you didn’t want to interrupt him, and tubbo knew you were currently in a stressful position since you had recently joined the dream smp, also you were still meeting people so he didn’t want to stress you out. this doesn’t mean he didn’t want to be your friend, he actually asked tommy since he had been your friend for at least 4 years what would be the best way of getting to know you.

“mate they hated me when we first met, just talk to them or something. you could have met them the last time i went up to visit you, but they ended up not feeling too good and went back to the hotel room.”

“when are you next coming up?”

“how about next week, and i’ll bring y/n, i really don’t understand why you’re nervous tubbo, it’s y/n they wouldn’t hurt a fly..well hmm.”

“see you next week then!”

a week later tommy dragged you to the train station.

“uh tommy where are we going?”

“...on a train.”

“no way, really? oh my god!”

a few hours later you finally got off the train.

“ill go with my dad to check into the hotel room, do you want to come with us or?”

“i think i’ll go for a walk and stretch my legs.”

“right okay, meet you at the beach later”

you spent a few minutes walking around the beach picking up any rocks and shells that caught your eye, little did you know it would result in you meeting tubbo. once you finished putting your new collection in your pockets you noticed a small crowd of people walk up to someone asking for pictures assuming it was tommy you walked over to the boy, it wasn’t tommy it was in fact tubbo. at first you stayed silent not wanting to really cause attention to yourself. you only spoke up when some people started to make inappropriate comments towards him.

“oh sorry to be a pain guys me and tubbo have plans with tommy in a few minutes, we should go so we’re not late. bye guys.”

you smiled and waved as they walked away. you looked over to tubbo, you could tell he was still pretty anxious about what just happened and honestly if you was in his position, you would react the same way.

“we should probably move from here incase they come back and see you’re still here, are you okay?”

“im feeling better now it’s over..thank you”

“oh it’s no problem i’m, y/n btw.”

“wait you and tommy were still meant to be on the train.”

“the train was actually on time, tommy went to check into the hotel i wanted to stretch my legs, i also wanted to collect some rocks.”

“did you collect enough or did you want more?”

“im not going to say no if you wanna go collect some with me.”

the pair of you walked around keeping each other close incase the people from before returned. half an hour later, the pair of you sat on a bench close to the beach so you could show tubbo everything you decided to pick up, he ended up keeping a rock he liked to have as a memory. tubbo wrapped an arm around you as it was getting cold whilst you watched the sunset.

“tubbo i think tommy forgot about me.”

“you can spend the night at mine, i’ll send him a message to let him know.”

“are you sure?”

“of course!”

“this has to be the most unsafe thing either of us will ever do, we hardly know each other and now i’m staying at yours.”

tommy sent you a message explaining that he didn’t forget, there was a problem at the other hotel and they had to go find another one, but you’ll be fine to stay at tubbos for the night. the pair of you spent the entire night learning as much as you can about the other person. it had only been an evening but you already knew the pair of you would be great friends.

taglist:

@dumb-chaotic-bi-energy @uselesssapphickitten @l0ver0fj0y @etheriaaly @xx-smiley-xx @hawarun @kylobensgirl @cawcaw-pretty-thing @reverse-iak @renleicrashed @c1loudee

#mcyt x reader #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt writing #mcyt imagines #mcyt imagine #mcyt reader insert #mcyt fluff #mcyt x platonic reader #mcyt x y/n #mcyt x you #tubbo x y/n #tubbo x you #tubbo x reader #tubbo imagine #tubbo fluff #tommyinnit x y/n #tommyinnit x you #tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit fluff #tommyinnit imagine #jack manifold x y/n #jack manifold x you #jack manifold x reader #jack manifold fluff #jack manifold imagine #ranboo x y/n #ranboo x you #ranboo x reader #ranboo fluff #ranboo imagine

[titan-fodder]

Prima Vista Part I

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~ 9.7k Warnings: dubious consent (because of alcohol), just copious amounts of sex, oral, squirting, 69ing, college shenanigans, obnoxious frat boys, terrible fashion choices A/N: At long last, here we have the beginning. Massive thanks to @pleasantanathema and @whats-her-quirk​ who have been cheering for me since I told them I wanted to right a “little college AU” for a “little collab” June and I have been planning for a while. Also, I don’t know where I’d be without Lauren’s fraternity knowledge, so extra thanks for that, babe. I hope everyone has as much fun with this fic as I did.

God, you hate frat boys. 

Their sense of entitlement, all their fucking house pride. Brother this, brother that. It's annoying. Add in the factors of being an athlete on top of it, and they're downright insufferable. 

So it makes absolutely no sense that you're at a fucking Pi Kappa Alpha party. 

Your friend, Hitch, dragged you here (naturally), and it wasn't like you could really object considering she's the only real friend you have on campus. You study together and switch off between dorms to watch movies and bitch about classes. She's the complete opposite of you in many different ways, but you soul-bonded over biology and that was that. 

Unfortunately, Hitch decided she would leave you to your own devices almost immediately, opting to skip over to a game of beer pong and flirt with a boy in her statistics class. You have no idea why considering he has a fucking bowl cut, but she's been talking about him for weeks now. 

The party is filled with loud music and too many people with red solo cups. There's no way they're all of age, so you're already paranoid that the cops are gonna raid the place, but there's nothing you can do besides leave. It's a tempting thought. 

Before you can, though, there's an uproar in the kitchen, and curiosity gets the best of you. Moving from your place against the wall, you make your way over to peek in and see what's going on. A large group of frat boys, what you think are sorority girls, and whoever else wants to join are raising their cups to cheer. An especially loud voice rings out above the rest, "One win down, eleven more to go!" 

Claps and supportive shouts are nearly deafening. 

"I think we can do it! Do you think we can do it?" 

More cheers, more hollers. 

"Let's hear it for UC lacrosse!" 

You have to cover your ears this time. Should have known this party was to celebrate the win earlier that day. 

When the crowd parts, you see the ringleader, Erwin Smith who is very well-known on campus for three reasons: he will talk your ear off about history if given the chance, he's irritatingly gorgeous, and he will fuck any pretty girl with a pulse. 

Again—you fucking hate frat boys. 

To ease your bad mood and possibly encourage you to have some semblance of a good time, you shuffle further into the kitchen to grab a drink. You feel a little exposed, not dressed like many of the other girls who are either in rompers or the classic sorority chick outfit (giant college shirts that cover their shorts). You are in a crop top, torn shorts, and a floral cardigan. Not your best outfit, not your worst. 

There's no way you're touching any of the pre-poured cups or the jungle juice, opting for an unopened can of mediocre beer. 

You feel someone approach you from behind, glance over your shoulder to see nothing but a broad chest covered by a fucking hawaiian shirt. 

Craning your neck, you're met with another familiar face, one Mike Zacharias known as 1) Erwin's best friend, 2) one of the tallest guys on campus, and 3) the best lacrosse player on the team. 

You haven't spoken a single word to him but that doesn't stop him from grinning at you, flipping shaggy hair from his face, and chanting a low, "Shotgun, shotgun, shotgun!" 

"Are you god damn joking me?" You ask with a raised eyebrow. 

"Hell no!" 

"I have shotgunned a beer literally once in my life, and at least half of it ended up on my shirt."

"That's alright," Mike's smile shrinks to a smirk. "We're all about getting chicks wet in Pike." 

Face falling, you scoff, "Yeah, okay, I'm leaving." 

You sidestep him, cracking open the beer, but he follows close behind you. It makes a little bit of fear spike in your gut—everyone knows the horror stories that accompany many fraternities—but you're mostly just annoyed. 

"Hey, what's your name again?"

Again. As if you've actually formally met before.

"Why do you care?" 

Mike does not hesitate when he answers, "'Cause you look like you're having a shit time here, and I'd like to change that."

You roll your eyes, let your head loll over your shoulder to look at him again. If you're being honest with yourself, he's kind of extremely hot with his undercut and flippy hair, not to mention the stubble that's grown out just enough to make you think thoughts for a split second.  

"A noble cause," you quip. "Truly." 

He chuckles, watching too closely as you take a sip of your beer. 

"So? Name?"

After too big of a swallow, you answer him, and light green eyes brighten a little. 

"Oh, you're Hitch's friend, right?" 

Of course that would be your only identifier on campus. Hitch is insanely pretty and very outgoing. It makes sense that people just know you as her tag-along. 

It doesn't stop you from feeling slightly offended, though. 

"Yeah, and you're Erwin's friend, right?" 

"Among other things," he snorts. "Mike Zacharias." He holds out a massive hand that you eye before taking, figure you shouldn't be too much of a bitch and make a bad impression on the most highly regarded frat at the college.  

"I know who you are, dude. Not many people don't."

"Aw, flatterer." 

That grin is back on his face, lopsided and far too charming, and you definitely need to get away from him before you down a couple more beers. 

"Freshman?" He pries, and somehow you wind up at the staircase, leaning against the wall and praying he'll just stand beside you instead of caging you in. 

He does, and you let out a breath of relief. 

"Sophomore."

His eyebrows shoot up for a second. "Fuck, you've made it through a whole year flying under my radar?" 

You give him a wholly unimpressed look. "Wow, you really know what to say to a girl, don't you?" 

"That came off as shitty, sorry. I just mean, like, you're super cute. Feel like I would have committed you to memory if I'd seen you."

Your face heats up probably more than it ever has in your life, but you still snap, "We haven't had a single class together, I never go to your games, and this is the first Pike party I've been to."

Mike nods. "Ah, that explains it. Just haven't given anyone a chance to notice you." 

"Sure, let's go with that."

Another several sips. You hiss at the taste, and Mike laughs. 

"Can't handle beer?"

"Can't handle shitty beer."

"Ouch. Want me to grab you something else?"

He really doesn't seem to understand the warnings all girls have heard over the years. That, or he just doesn't care. You don't know him well enough to pass that kind of judgement.

"Uh, no. I always make my own drinks at parties."

"That's understandable." Except it isn't. He doesn't have a clue. 

"Well, you can go grab one, and I'll just finish this one for you. Don't want it to go to waste."

It's your turn to smirk now. "That desperate to swap spit, Zacharias?" 

"Like this?" He laughs through his nose. "Nah. But I can think of other ways."

"We've been talking for literally two minutes."

"I'm perfectly capable of making decisions in two minutes."

"Not any good ones obviously."

Tilting his head, Mike thinks out loud, "Can't tell if that's an insult aimed at me or yourself." 

"Take it however you want. I don't really care."

His eyes glint with amusement. There's no way you're escaping this any time soon. 

Long, thick fingers close around the top of your can, and he gently tugs it out of your hand then keeps those eyes locked with yours as he takes a sip. 

"Gross." You try to keep the teasing tone from your voice. 

"Just go get another drink."

You actually listen, mostly to get away from him but also because you could go for something easier to stomach. 

A game of King's Cup is going on in the kitchen, a five obviously being drawn because everyone suddenly pantomimes holding a steering wheel. It's surprisingly fun to watch, so you post up next to the counter after mixing orange and pineapple juice with rum. 

"Four's whores!"

"Categories! Different beers!"

"Seven heaven!" 

"Ayyy, waterfall!" 

You shake your head as everyone drinks for way too long. Some people are already swaying in circles where they're sitting. Others are simply red-faced. 

"Wanna play?"

"Jesus! You came outta nowhere."

Mike looks too smug for your liking, but doesn't say anything, just crushes the empty can in his hand and throws it into the trashcan next to the back door, all gooseneck and perfect arch. 

"Let me guess—you're reigning champ at beer pong."

"Nah," he waves you off. "That's Erwin and Nile. King's Cup however…"

"King's Cup isn't even a competition. It's just flipping cards and getting fucked up." 

"Well, yeah, but it's still fun."

You let out a heavy sigh, eyes still trained on the game going on, then concede, "Once this one is over, I'll play. Just to get you off my back." And because he won't have the chance to talk to you for the duration of the game. 

"Excellent."

You manage to finish your drink by the time the round ends, have to rush to make another as Mike strides over to the table and steals the two seats that have been vacated. They're right across from each other. You don't know if you'd prefer that or just sitting next to him so he can't stare at you.

Sauntering over, you plop down and place your drink in front of you. The guy to your right is quick to introduce himself with hooded eyes and a self-assured smile. You give him basically the same treatment that you've been giving Mike, making him pout and turn away as a freckled girl deals out the cards. 

It's fast paced, and you find yourself drinking more than you'd planned. Mike picks you as his buddy (of course), and the guy next to you makes everyone drink for nearly thirty seconds straight when he pulls an ace. 

Still, you find yourself laughing as people scream and curse. You catch eyes with Mike often, and as you finish your second drink, he begins looking very attractive. More attractive than before. So attractive that you allow him to pour your third cup. 

"If you roofied this, I'm gonna be real upset with you," you tell him just before taking a sip. He added more rum than you did, but that doesn't surprise you. 

"Hey, one of Pike's virtues is being a gentleman."

As soon as he says it, about seven people around the table shout, "Pi Kappa Alpha!" like some kind of sports team, and you roll your eyes so hard it hurts. 

You're drunk after this game. And, then you make another drink and get plastered. Meandering around the rest of the party, bodies begin to blur together, the music fades in and out, and you barely know what you're saying to Mike anymore as he follows you close behind in the same state. For every drink you've had, he's had two, and now he's walking around with a cup full of jungle juice nodding at his brothers, smiling at all the girls who look at him.

His room is downstairs unlike most of the others, right at the end of the hallway. It makes it far too easy to end up inside, but as soon as the door closes and his huge hands find your hips, your world disappears entirely. 

*

The first thing you feel when you wake up is a nauseating pounding in your head. The second is a very large body behind you. 

God dammit, you think, trying to recall the events of the night before. 

Pi Kappa Alpha. Hitch left you, so you hung out with… Mike Zacharias? From the lacrosse team? 

Frowning, you try to look over your shoulder, but all you can really see is a head of hair. However, you can feel the coarseness of his beard against your bare shoulder, and that's enough to solidify that it is indeed Mike behind you. 

Shifting some brings more of your physical state to your attention—your naked chest under the blanket, the way your legs are pressed together, your pussy between your thighs… swollen? Jesus, what did he do to you last night? You can also feel something dry and crusty on your stomach which is both disgusting and relieving. At least he had enough sense to pull out. 

Luckily, his arm isn't wrapped around you which makes it much easier to sit up on your elbow. It takes you a while to locate your clothes around the room from where you are, and even then, all you can find are your shorts, shoes, and bra. You peer around, trying not to groan at the headache threatening to make you black the fuck out all over again, but that pounding as well as the nauseating churning of your stomach is making it difficult. 

You slide out of the bed, basically crawling to the little pile of discarded clothes. As you fumble with fastening your bra, you glance around one more time in search of your shirt and cardigan, but it’s no use. What you do see, however, is the obnoxious Hawaiian shirt  Mike had been wearing the night before, and well… You’d rather not leave the Pike house topless, so…

Snatching it off the floor, you slip your arms through the giant sleeves and somehow manage to button up about half of it. Then, you’re flying out the door, desperate to be in your own dorm, curled over your own toilet, in your own clothes. 

Oh, thank god his room wasn’t upstairs, you praise, trying to remember the way to the front door. There are numerous bodies and tipped over cups to navigate through, and you cringe at the various odors that assault your senses. 

You see the door from across the room, so close and getting closer as you try not to trip over anything, but as you pass the kitchen, you hear a smooth, familiar voice greet, “Good morning,” in a smug way. 

Erwin is leaning against a counter, smirking over a steaming cup of coffee. He’s wearing only sweatpants, his hair is a little mussed, and for a split second, you understand why he pulls so many girls. 

Still, you roll your eyes and continue moving—a classic DNE situation, but the frat boy doesn’t seem to get the message, instead calling out, “Nice shirt!”

“Fuck off, Smith,” is the only thing you utter before leaving, slamming the door behind you. 

*

Mike easily catches the frisbee that spins directly at his face then quickly throws it back to try and catch Nile off guard. It works, and the brunet curses and has to go running after the flying disc. 

A few girls watching from the nearby fountain clap and yell his name, wriggling fingers in a wave as if he can actually see that far away. Mike gives one wave of his own hand then turns back to the grass where Nile is jogging back to his place.

“You did that on purpose, you asshole!” He spits.

Mike shrugs his shoulders, yells back, “Get better at frisbee, and you won’t have this problem!”

Nile throws the plastic so hard that it flies off toward the fountain, making all those girls scream and dive for cover. 

“Yeah, I’m not getting that,” Mike shakes his head. Nile drags his fingers down his angular face before setting off on yet another trek, apologizing profusely then standing around to flirt like usual.

Blowing hair out of his face, Mike considers joining his brother, but before he can, he sees a familiar figure turning on the sidewalk, about to pass the fountain and head toward Hartley Hall. 

His feet are moving before he really registers it, glad his long legs can carry him quickly even at a walk. Mike calls out when he’s a couple yards away, and you turn to him, eyes growing wide before you start to move faster. 

He can just barely make out the words, “Nope. Not doing this,” and chuckles, catching up the rest of the way.

“Hey, chill, I just wanna talk.”

You turn to look at him, head tilted up, squinting against the sun, and Mike has never been more thankful for his height because you look so god damn cute all small and irritated with him. 

“What is there to talk about? I don’t even remember anything.”

“Yeah, neither do I,” he says, lacing fingers together behind his head. “Shame.”

“Whatever.”

Mike tries and fails to hide a snort, nods at Nile as you both pass him and the gaggle of girls surrounding him. Mike has no doubt his friend will get at least one phone number out of it, if not all of them. 

“Did you at least have a good time before you blacked out?” He ventures.

You shrug your shoulders, hitch your backpack up a little higher. “Maybe. But, if I was just around you the whole time, probably not.”

“Aw, come on! What did I ever do to you?”

“You need a list?”

Mike nods. “Would probably help.”

“For brevity's sake, I’ll just say that you started the night trying to get a literal stranger to shotgun a beer and ended the night fucking said stranger and… Not holding back, apparently.” Mike frowns, about to ask what you mean by that, but you elaborate before he can. Voice dropping, you question, “Do you have any idea how fucking sore I’ve been for the last few days? What the fuck do you even have hidden in those stupid shorts?”

“I’d be happy to show you again.” He grins sideways, and when you shoot him a venomous look, he figures it’s time to change the subject. “Anyway, I may have done that and more, but you’re the thief.”

“Excuse me?”

Mike tries to sound nonchalant as he accuses, “Stole my shirt and everything." Honestly, he's a little upset that he didn’t actually get to see you wearing it. 

“I—”

“That’s my favorite shirt, you know?”

You laugh. Finally. “Are you serious?”

“Absolutely.”

“That shirt is fucking heinous, okay? You’re lucky I didn’t burn it.”

“Does that mean I can have it back?”

You make a little noise in your throat, something between a grumble and a growl, but you check your phone and tell him, “Fine. My next class isn’t for another couple of hours, so just…Follow me.”

It takes immense effort to not skip to your dorm like a little kid, but Mike is excited. He’s not gonna try anything weird, but just seeing your space? He’ll be able to get a better feel for you. So far, all he knows is that you live and breathe sarcasm and can’t handle your liquor well. It’s enough to get him a little more than interested, but it’s not enough to go off of.

The two of you gain a few looks as you make your way through the shared study space of the dormitory, heads turning, eyebrows raising in recognition. No one should be all that surprised; it’s not like Mike and Erwin haven’t frequented a lot of these rooms. 

You lead him down a hallway, and Mike looks at all the little dry-erase intro boards hanging outside of every door. He’s a little surprised to see that the one by yours isn’t blank. Your name is written in bubble letters, surrounded by little hearts, and when you catch him looking at it, you’re quick to tell him, “Hitch.”

“Ah. Of course.”

He follows you inside, staying by the door to not invade too much of your space, but he doesn’t even try to be subtle as he looks around the small room. Pennant for the college hung up over a cork bulletin board that’s a mess of photos and sticky notes. Cluttered desk with just enough of it cleared to fit a laptop. Tiny succulents on the window sill. Double bed covered in a quilt. And there, in the open closet, Mike catches sight of his shirt—pastel pink and littered with palm trees. 

After dropping your backpack on your bed, you step over to the hanging clothes and grab it, muttering, “Ridiculous,” as you hand it over.

Mike laughs as he slings it over his shoulder. “You know what’ll make you hate it even more?” You quirk an eyebrow, probably doubting that anything could, but your entire face falls when he informs you, “I have matching shorts to go with it.”

“No you do not.”

“Definitely do.”

“That should be a crime. You should be arrested.”

He chuckles, has a retort on the tip of his tongue, but something catches his eye—a bookshelf tucked away in the corner by your bed overflowing with novels and knick-knacks. Mike sees a particularly thick paperback, recognizing the black background and small desert picture on the spine.

“Bro!” He walks over, plants a hand in the middle of your mattress, and reaches for it. “Is this fucking Dune?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“This is, like, my favorite book, dude.”

“Seriously?” You sound just as disbelieving as you do disinterested. 

Mike begins flipping through it, scanning over highlighted passages as he nods. “I have the whole series back home, but I only brought this one and Messiah with me to college.”

He straightens up but keeps a knee on the edge of the bed, and you plop down to sit on it, watching him closely as he continues to look over the notes scribbled in the margins. 

“I had to read it in high school," you tell him. "Then my cousin gave me a lot of the books after I talked with him about it one time. I haven’t gotten around to reading them, though.”

“You really should,” Mike urges. “I mean, I know you probably have a shit ton of reading for classes, but if you ever get the chance, you should at least read the next two.”

“You some kind of closet nerd, Zacharias?”

“Kinda,” he admits, putting the book back on the shelf only to grab a worn copy of Fellowship of the Ring. “I mean, Erwin and a few others are well aware, but I don’t really broadcast it.”

“Not good for the cool guy image?” 

“Nah, people are just more interested in other things,” he mumbles, eyes fixed on the tiny print.

“Mike Zacharias,” his gaze flicks to you as you laugh quietly. “Lacrosse god and big fucking geek.”

He closes the book and uses it to lightly hit you on the top of the head with it. You half-heartedly smack him right in his abs only to push against the muscle harder and ask, “Jesus Christ, what do you have under there?”

“You know, that’s the second time you’ve asked what I have under my clothes,” he points out, a little too satisfied. “Better watch out, or I’m gonna start getting ideas.”

You huff, but your hand is definitely still on his stomach, unmoving but warm through his shirt. Mike told himself he wouldn’t do anything weird once he got here, but you’re already on the bed and touching him, and he’d kind of really like to have this particular experience while sober, so he very slowly takes your wrist and moves it away. 

It makes you look up at him, a question dancing in your eyes as your lips part. Mike makes sure his own stare conveys everything he’s thinking, wishes he could just transplant his thoughts into your brain so that he can put you a little more at ease around him. 

You’re onto him, though, tugging your hand from his grip and blinking a few times. He figures you’re about to point to the door and tell him to take his fucking Hawaiian shirt and leave. 

Instead, you pull on the fabric covering his ribs so that he loses his balance and has to catch himself before crashing into you. It puts his face level with yours, and you take the opportunity to kiss him—hard, desperate, and a little confused judging by the way you’re frowning. 

Mike grunts, holding himself up with the arm on the side of your hips then uses the other to slide under the thigh closest to him and pull you further onto the bed. He’s straddling you in no time, up on his knees so that he doesn’t crush you. 

Hearing the sound of shoes hitting the ground, he tugs his shirt off over his head, and then he’s curling over you again. Your mouths grow slick with spit. He slides his tongue past your lips, and you arch into him, fingers tangling in his hair. Mike pushes you back down so that he can strip you down to your bra and panties then takes the time to rid himself of his shoes and shorts.

“Oh, fuck,” he hears you breathe, and when he glances up at you, he finds you staring at what he knows is an intimidatingly large bulge under his boxer briefs. “It makes sense now—the soreness.”

Mike chuckles, slots his forearms on either side of your head and mutters, “Yeah, sorry about that.”

You lick his lips and he bites yours, bodies clashing together as he grinds himself against your covered pussy. Eventually Mike is able to snake a hand down your body, making sure to brush over your ribs so that you squirm beneath him. Fuck, he already loves the way you squirm. And, when he moves your panties to the side and teases your little hole, already wet just from making out, Mike discovers that he loves the way you moan too. 

He’s slow as he pushes a finger in, groaning when you clench around it. Pumping it in and out, he gently works you open and wonders if he was courteous enough to do this the other night. He hopes he was. 

You spread your legs for him, start bucking into his hand, especially when he hits that special spot inside you. 

“Fuck, fuck, fu—” You grab his face, bringing it close to yours again so that you can muffle curses against his lips. 

When Mike adds a second finger, your jaw drops, and you start to tremble. 

“Too much?” He asks.

You shake your head, stutter a breathy, “N-no. Just—ah—slow. Go slow.”

He moves to suck on your neck, promising, “I will.”

Mike waits until you’re dripping into his palm and spread about as widely as you can be underneath him. Then, and only then does he shimmy out of his underwear and question, “Condom?”

“Bookshelf,” you huff. “In the jewelry box.”

When he opens it, a little ballerina spins, and Mike has to laugh at the ridiculousness of it. “That’s twisted.”

“Shut up.”

He grabs one of the gold packages and tears it open, then rolls the latex over his cock and discards the wrapper somewhere. 

Mike only gives you his tip first, sits right inside your entrance so that you can squeeze him and get used to the feeling before he pushes in any more. You barely shift your hips back and forth, like an experiment. It’s just enough for Mike to see slick coating the end of the condom, and he nearly starts drooling.

He presses in a little more, appreciates the way your eyes roll into the back of your head, then adds one more inch.

“Jesus Christ.” Your breaths are coming in short gasps, words slurring together. He’s not even halfway in, and you’re already fucked out. 

Your cunt is spasming around him, and Mike tries to get you to relax more by lightly rubbing your clit with the pad of his thumb. 

You leak around him, pussy slowly but surely opening up a little more so that he can slide in further. He gives a few shallow thrusts that make you whine, then reaches up to grab one of your pillows which only sends him deeper. 

“God dam—”

Mike lifts you and shoves the pillow under your hips, smiles in a way he’s pretty sure you hate, then jokes, “Better to fuck you with, my dear.”

“In...sufferable…” The annoyed tone is lost when you cry out. Mike buries himself as far as he can without hurting you. He isn’t quite balls deep, but you feel so fucking good that he doesn’t even mind. 

Starting a steady rhythm that has every upthrust dragging over your g-spot, Mike watches through foggy eyes as your mouth opens and closes, chest rising with stuttering breaths before you exhale and moan. He dips his thumb between your folds to gather a little bit of slick and return it to your clit. The circular motion makes you arch again, and Mike abandons the little bud for just a moment so that he can unclasp your bra and pull it off. The sight of your tits bouncing in time with his thrusts almost does him in, but he holds back, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment to gather himself.

You’re just clamping around him so perfectly, pussy drooling and creaming on his cock, and Mike is not a quickshot, but for you—

He pulls out all at once, flips you so that you’re on hands and knees, then spreads you open to lick into you from behind. 

“Holy—” 

Mike’s cock is throbbing where it bobs against his stomach, but he can ignore it for the most part, focused on eating you out, sucking at your messy lips then dragging the flat of his tongue over your hole. He moves his face back and forth, wants to leave his mark on you in the form of stubble burn between your legs. 

“Mike, Mike, fuck, please.”

He’s positive you can’t actually hear him when he teases, “Please what?” right into the crevice of your ass. 

You growl, push against him, and swallow enough pride to beg, “Please fuck me.”

Biting his lip, Mike straightens up enough to watch his fingers disappear into your pussy. One, two, then a third that makes your messy entrance stretch for him. He lowers his face again, feather light licks around your sensitive hole, and when he twists his wrist so that he can tap on your spot, you come immediately. 

A mixture of slick and squirt drips from your cunt and soaks into your quilt. Mike pushes more out as he continues to finger fuck you, humming at the way your arms give out and you fall against the mattress. 

This is the perfect position for him. He replaces his wet fingers with his cock and ruts into you quickly, chasing after his own impending orgasm. Pretty little whimpers fall from your lips, fuck drunk as you babble, “Oh, god, Mike, Mike, fuck…”

He’s gripping your hips too tightly, pulling you back against him, shoving his cock deeper and deeper until he finally comes with a shudder and a low groan. 

Mike pants for a few seconds, then leans down to press a few kisses to your spine, but instead of the usual happy sighs he gets from most girls, you just roll your shoulders and mutter, “Stop that.”

He does, then pulls out, takes a second to stare at your pussy—worked open from his size and still dripping. It would make a very pretty picture, but Mike wouldn’t dare try that with you. 

You roll onto your back, a huff of air leaving your lungs as you scrub a hand over your face then tilt your head to him. It looks like you have something to say, but you just chew on your bottom lip, eyes moving from Mike to the door.

And, he can take a hint. You don’t have to say it. 

With a self-deprecating snort, he pulls the condom off, tying it then tossing it into the trashcan by your bed. 

“Yeah, okay,” he nods. “Let me just…” Mike tugs his clothes back on, kindly tosses you your top so that you can cover yourself like you obviously want to. 

He makes sure to grab the Hawaiian shirt that brought him here in the first place, tossing it over his shoulder then striding to the door. 

Chancing one more glance at you, you force a smile and try to pad his bruised ego. “Don’t worry, it was good. You were good. It’s just not gonna happen again.”

Mike fights a smirk, raises a hand in a wave, then steps out.

Not gonna happen again, he chuckles to himself. Yeah, right.

*

You don't understand how this keeps happening, how you keep ending up in bed with Mike fucking Zacharias. 

This time you had gone to the disgusting bar right off campus, got one whole drink in your system before the familiar trio walked in. They were all in khakis and pastels—Erwin in blue, Nile in yellow, Mike in pink. Again. 

You actually slammed your head down on the bartop because despite how basic he looked in his light polo, Mike was still hot. 

Is still hot. 

Back at the Pi Kappa Alpha house, you're a mess of limbs on his bed. You take immense pleasure in tugging his shirt off, and once his arms are free again, he's lifting the hem of your little skirt and mouthing over your thong. 

You're more than tipsy after a couple more drinks but nowhere near as drunk as you were the first night. It hadn't taken much convincing from Erwin for you and Hitch to play pool with them, and when Mike had come up behind you to help you line up your shot, you knew you were a goner. 

While he's busy between your legs, you take off your shirt and bra. Green eyes flick up as soon as you toss both articles on to the floor, and without any hesitation, Mike reaches up to grope your tits. 

He's clumsy and distracted as he tongues over the warmth pooling in your underwear, squeezing plump flesh and pinching your nipple so that you whine and push your hips further into his face. 

Mike groans, just as drunk if not more so. He's messy as he kisses your thighs, nearly rips your thong when he pulls it off of you. 

His tongue feels good, too fucking good as he laves over your entrance, soothing an ache that isn't quite there anymore but definitely was a few days ago. 

"Taste so fucking good," he grumbles, slurping and sucking and making you squeeze your thighs around his head. 

"Okay," you pant. "Okay, okay." You grab him by the hair and lift his head from you, stomach flipping at the sight of the bottom half of his face absolutely covered in slick. 

God dammit, why is he so sexy? 

Your mouth waters, and the thought of possibly giving him head this time crosses your mind. You're just inebriated enough to stay relaxed, didn't drink to the point of throwing up, and he has gone down on you the last two times so... 

Lizard brain taking over, you sit up, tell him to flip over, then start making your way down his body. 

Mike grabs you before you can turn to face him, fingers digging into your thighs and pulling you down to sit on his face. 

"Fucking—I'm trying to blow you, for Christ's sake."

He moves his head just enough to tell you, "So? You can do that while I do this."

And, he's not wrong. It just means that you're gonna get distracted. 

For a while, all you can really do is control your breathing and undulate on top of him, but eventually you fall to your elbows and lick up his shaft from base to tip. 

Mike really does have a nice cock—a beautiful cock—bigger than you've ever taken in terms of both length and girth, and veiny in the perfect way. Even his balls make your pussy throb, large and round, the right just slightly bigger than the left and now dripping with saliva as you lower your mouth further and further onto his cock. 

The feeling of his tongue buried in your cunt is making you delirious, eyes rolling, muscles going slack as you gurgle around the tip hitting the back of your throat. 

Mike groans into you, his legs starting to shake, and you assume in your half aware state that he's trying to not just skull fuck you into oblivion. 

You know you're making a mess, both on his face and on his cock. The fingertips that have been holding you open shift, one of them slipping into your clenching hole, and your hips begin to move on their own volition, riding what he'll give you while moving your tongue back and forth. 

You've only taken about half of him, doubt you can take any more. He's hot and heavy in your mouth, and when you pull off to breathe, you can taste pre cum on the back of your tongue. 

It triggers something in you, makes you raise up and clumsily turn around so that you can work him inside of you. 

Mike groans a long, "Fuuuck," and immediately starts thrusting upward. 

You're lucky you're as wet as you are, but the burn that comes with getting so stretched out still makes you hiss. You brace yourself on his broad chest, feeling the dampness of sweat forming a sheen on him, and your own body starts to feel too hot. 

You had wanted to ride him to feel in control of the situation for once, but you quickly realize it's not gonna happen, Mike gripping your hips and moving you how he sees fit. 

He's raw this time, a thought that should scare you, but he feels so good even through the discomfort. Every vein and ridge hits all the sweet spots inside of you, the flared head of his cock smooth as it presses just where you need it to. 

You're squirting again—he just seems to be able to fuck it out of you. It's not the high you're looking for, but the release in pressure still feels divine. 

Mike seems to enjoy it too because he looks down at where you're connected, swears at the way you gush on his cock, then starts swiping fingers over your clit so quickly it almost hurts. 

More fluid leaks from you, and Mike breathes a low, "Come on, baby, come on, 'm gonna fuck you dry tonight." 

Hearing him talk like that—his hand rubbing over your overstimulated clit, his thick cock threatening to split you in two—causes heat to travel up your legs and down your arms until it settles in your stomach and floods you. 

You cry out, stars and tears behind your eyes as Mike keeps going, taking everything he can from you until he's laying in a huge wet spot in his bed. 

He lifts you just in time to shoot cum upward on your chest, white splattering then dripping down in strands to pool on his stomach. 

You stare down at him, mouth hanging open and find him looking up at you with the same expression. 

It's hands down the best sex you've ever had, but you're not about to tell him that. Instead, you dismount him like the fucking horse he is and stand on weak legs, actually have to lean on the bed for support. 

"Just stay the night." His voice is deep and full of gravel. It's entirely too hot. 

"Absolutely not." You shake your head, grab your shirt and his boxers then ask, "Where's the nearest bathroom?" 

"Down the hall on the right, but you don't have to sneak out the window or anything. Just use the front door if you're tryin’ to run away."

You can't help but snort. Stupid. "I'm not trying to escape, dummy. I just need to pee." 

"Oh. Right."

You slip out of the room, hoping it's late enough for everyone to be asleep, but you have no such luck as the door to the bathroom opens and fucking Erwin steps out. 

He hums, looking you over for a moment as his lips lift on one side. 

"Don't say anything," you grit through your teeth. 

He holds his hands up in surrender, chuckles, acting all innocent. "Wasn't going to."

You squint, not believing him for a second, then move around him to get to the bathroom. Before you can shut the door, you hear him mutter, "Another one bites the dust," and consider running out and strangling him.

*

"Please please please come with me to this game," Hitch begs, her hands clasped together, imploring eyes wide and doe-like. 

"No. You have plenty of other friends to go with. You don't need me there."

"But, I want you to be there. It's gonna be such a good match. Rival schools and all that."

You roll your eyes. "Hitch, in all the time you've known me, have you ever seen me give a single fuck about sports?" 

"No, but you'll finally get to see Mike and Erwin and Nile play."

"All the more reason not to go."

"Do you not like them or something? Why wouldn't you like them? Everybody likes them!" 

She doesn't know, and you don't want her to. She had been too caught up with that Marlowe kid at the party, then was kept busy playing pool with Nile to see you and Mike slip out of the bar together. 

It's the only secret you've ever wanted to keep from her. You will take it to the grave. 

"I just… I just don't, okay? I get a… Sleazy vibe from all of them."

You really don't. Not exactly. You're not a big fan of the 'fuck-every-chick-on-capus' mentality, but most college boys think like that. Only difference is these three can actually achieve it. 

Hitch crosses her arms over her chest and gives you a look you've seen on your mother's face many times, usually when she has a point to prove. 

"You know I'm just gonna keep bothering you until you come to one, so why not just get it outta the way?" 

And, there's that point. 

"Ugh." You know she's right, and you really can't put up with this all semester. "Fine, but I'm gonna bitch the entire time."

Hitch squeals and claps, bouncing where she stands. "Yes! Wouldn't have it any other way."

You dress in school colors, put your hair up so that it won't be on your neck as the sun beats down, then take Hitch's little hatchback to the field. You try to talk her into sitting toward the back of the crowd that's gathered on the bleachers, but she just pulls you to the front without acknowledging your request. 

Even with the helmets, you can easily make out who's who, mostly because of their size. Mike and Erwin are doing some kind of pregame ritual where they hit their sticks together, shout something, and chest bump. It's the most alpha thing you've ever fucking seen and makes you question why you ever thought screwing one of them was a good idea. 

To be fair, you never really did think it was a good idea. It just kind of happened. Three times. 

But, it needs to stop. 

You repeat that thought to yourself as you watch Mike sprint across the field and launch the ball into the goal several times. You repeat it as he dances around his opponents with ease, quick footwork until he can throw them off. You repeat it as he stands on the sidelines and takes his helmet off to shake out sweaty hair and squirt water into his mouth. 

And, none of it really helps. Mike is pretty incredible on the field, especially with Erwin and Nile backing him up. Everyone in the stands is screaming, yelling their names and chanting. It's a little contagious, you have to admit. You get as far as clapping but refuse to actually cheer. 

At some point, Erwin jogs over to the bleachers and waves his arms for everyone to get louder, and they sure do. Even through his helmet, you can see his sparkling white smile, and your own lips curl up as you shake your head at him. Unbelievable. He has all these people at his beck and call. 

Erwin has to get back on the field, though, fueled by the crowd like the other nine players. They end up pulling ahead of the other team and finishing the game eleven to seven. 

Naturally, Erwin announces a party at the Pike house, and naturally, Hitch drags you to it. 

This one is even bigger than the last. It offends every one of your senses—too loud, alcohol permeating the air, bad drinks, worse dancing, and strangers rubbing against you as you pass them. 

You give up on your beer before you’re even halfway through with it, just set the can on one of the counters and start milling around. You’d rather be anywhere else but here. Your head hurts from the game earlier, baking in the sun and not drinking enough water. Should’ve taken an Advil… And some Benadryl. Hitch wouldn’t have been able to bring you here if you’d been unconscious. 

All of the lacrosse team is there, flanked with guys who won’t stop slapping them on their backs and girls who won’t stop batting their eyes and squeezing their biceps. It’s comical, really, the fairweather trend. There’s no way this would be happening if they’d lost their last three games. Instead, the team would be getting harassed and pestered, not so subtle comments about practicing more and replacing members. You’ve seen it all before. 

Leaning against a wall, you watch it all unfold. It’s probably the most entertaining thing at the party other than the group of sorority girls dancing on a table. Things are getting out of hand already, and you would prefer not be here for the aftermath, but just as you're about to leave, Mike breaks away from the group and strides over to you.

“Hey, didn’t expect to see you.” He takes a sip from his cup, smiling around the rim.

You use your usual excuse: “Hitch,” and he nods. 

“Right. Did you watch the game today?”

Crossing your arms, you mumble a, “Yes,” that Mike can’t hear but can definitely see.

He beams then asks, “You gonna tell me I played well? ‘Cause I did.” He’s all cocksure and giddy, and it makes your body run hot in a few different ways.

“I don’t think you need anyone else fawning over you,” you say with a condescending laugh.

“You mean you don’t want me to flex for you?”

“I’m leaving. Right now." When you push past him a little too roughly, it causes him to drop his cup, and your shirt is suddenly plastered to your chest and stomach. The white isn’t discolored, which leads you to believe, “Fuck, is this just straight vodka?”

“No, Christ,” he cringes at your wet state, looking genuinely apologetic. “It’s just water. Sorry.”

You scrunch your top up to wring it out, wondering what he’s doing drinking water instead of liquor, but you’re not about to pick on him for staying hydrated. 

“It’s fine. I was about to leave anyway.”

He’s quick to stop you with a, “No, don’t. Just… change into one of my shirts or something."

Narrowing your eyes, you contemplate how many ways this can go wrong, how much you should not allow this, and even go as far as accusing, "You're just trying to get me in your room again."

"You wanna stay in a wet shirt?" Not really. "Come on."

He jerks his head toward the hallway, and you end up following him, grumbling the whole time because you swear to God if you end up on your back for him again, you're going to be very upset with yourself. 

Mike beelines it for his dresser as soon as you're in the room, much quieter than the rager outside. He digs around in it, flipping all the way to the bottom then pulls out a heather gray tee. 

"It'll probably still be a little big, but it's from high school, so you shouldn't drown in it."

He tosses it to you then, to your surprise, turns back to the wall to give you the privacy to change. You eye him the whole time, peeling off your top as well as your bra since it soaked through. His shirt still covers your little shorts, and you assume you look a lot like one of those sorority girls, but it's good enough, has that super soft feeling from being worn too much. 

"Thanks. You can, uh… You can turn around now."

Mike looks over his shoulder, like he's making sure you're decent, then turns around fully. 

"I was trying to get outta there anyway. Spilling a drink on you was a good excuse."

You open your mouth, choking on a scoff, then ask, "Did you do that on purpose?" 

"No! It really was an accident. I'm glad it was just water, but I still feel bad."

You're squinting at him, but now you're curious about something else.

"Why'd you wanna get away from the party?" 

Sighing, Mike shows a tired smile. "Honestly, I'm still worn out from the game. I'm already sore and covered in these god damn bruises. I just wanna relax."

"If you're covered in bruises, I can't imagine how the other team feels. You smacked the shit outta some of 'em."

"So, you were watching."

"I may have glanced up once or twice," you lie. "Anyway, why don't you just hide out in here?" 

He shrugs his shoulders. "Erwin insisted I show my face, and I didn't want him to give me shit about being a recluse."

You can relate. It's why Hitch drags you everywhere. You wouldn't even leave your dorm for classes if you didn't have to. 

Still. "Dude. You're definitely not a recluse. You're fucking everywhere. All the time."

"So? I can get tired too."

He's got a point. 

"Can we just chill in here for a while?" He asks you. 

"Why do you need me to chill? You basically just said you needed a break from social interaction."

"Yeah, but not all social interaction," he corrects with a small grin. "Please? I've got movies and video games, Zelda and shit."

Again, the contemplation kicks in, all the pros and cons. You know very well what this can (will) lead to, but you also want to escape the party. And, if Hitch whines about you leaving, you can tell her you were there the whole time. Not like it's a lie. 

"Fine, but I have some stipulations."

"Oh, do you?" 

"I do."

Mike waves a hand for you to go on. "Let's hear 'em then."

Holding up one finger, you tell him, "You have to let me snoop around your room—" he laughs. You lift another finger, "—and we are not, under any circumstances, having sex."

"Deal." 

You tilt your head, taken aback at how quick he is to agree. "Wait, seriously?" 

"Seriously. Go ahead. I'll pull up Hulu."

You hum, still suspicious, but start making your rounds, taking in photos from what you assume to be the high school soccer team he played on, then a fishing trip with Erwin, a middle-aged couple with a dog, and some pinned up tickets to sporting events he's attended. 

He has a bookshelf against a wall, textbooks at eye level, but the top and bottom shelves are filled with sci-fi and fantasy novels that make you smile. His TV is fairly large, big enough to see the picture from his bed which is also sizable and draped with a plush comforter. The last thing that catches your eye is his closet, halfway open and full of jerseys and Polos. A few different pairs of shoes sit at the bottom, but pushed all the way in the corner are a few boxes of fucking Magic the Gathering cards. 

"Oh, man. You really are a closet nerd. Like, literally."

"Huh?" Mike looks over at where you're kneeling, realizes what you're looking at and actually sounds self-conscious when he admits, "Yeah, uh, I wasn't joking the other day." 

"I've never played—too technical for me—but my friends in high school did."

"There are baseball cards back there too if that makes me any cooler."

"It doesn't," you say bluntly before straightening up and reaching to shut the door to his room. Plopping down on the floor next to him (where he was smart enough to sit), you add, "But even I can admit it's kind of endearing."

"Oh yeah?" He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, that stupid lopsided grin on his too-handsome face. 

"Don't get cocky, Zacharias." 

"You wouldn't let me if I wanted to."

Both of you agree to a Batman movie, and you make yourself comfortable, kicking your sandals off and leaning against the bed behind you. You're a little too aware of Mike's body beside yours, but you're able to ignore it for the most part, keeping a few inches between your arms and legs. Of course, he still brushes against you when the movie ends and he takes the time to stretch. His shoulders roll, making his shirt strain over his back, and when he holds his arms out, linked at his fingers, you can't help but take a quick look at his bulging biceps. 

"Fuck, I'm gonna feel like garbage tomorrow," he complains. You can see the bruises littering his arms, some of them thick lines while others are almost perfectly circular from where he was hit with the end of a lacrosse stick. 

"You have any classes?" You ask. 

"Just my ten o'clock and three o'clock."

You make a noise of acknowledgement then fall silent. You're not sure how to hold a conversation with him that isn't sarcastic or snippy since you haven't actually done a lot of talking in the first place. 

"Sucks," is all you can come up with. 

"It's alright. I've probably dealt with worse."

"Probably?" 

"Well, nothing really comes to mind, but I'm sure I have."

You should get going. It's late, and you have a nine AM tomorrow. Plus, the longer you sit next to Mike, the more ideas pop up in your head. Dirty ideas. Ideas that will leave you disappointed in yourself. 

"Well, I'm gonna head back. This has been…" You're unsure of what word to use, don't want to get his hopes up by saying 'fun'. 

Mike figures you out and offers, "Tolerable?" 

"Yeah, we can go with that. I'll get your shirt back to you sometime soon."

Mike chuckles and gets to his feet. "Just whenever you can." He grabs your wet top from the ground and holds it out to you, then reaches for the door as you slip on your sandals. 

You feel him close behind you, close enough for his chest to push against your back when you straighten up. His arm is pressing into your side, hand curled around the knob and twisting it, but he's unable to open the door as you let your head fall against it. 

"God dammit." 

"Hm?" You can tell he's leaning down because his breath falls just over your ear. 

"I said we weren't—"

He cuts you off, "But, you want to."

He's too hot and too smooth, and you can’t stop yourself from turning around and breathing, "Yeah, I want to." 

It's different tonight. Mike takes his time undressing you, kissing and sucking your neck, your collarbone, your nipples that pebble against his tongue. It's unnerving even as you squirm and moan. 

He eats you out lazily, flattening his tongue against your folds then dipping into your slit so that he can slip into your twitching hole. 

When he adds a finger, you immediately grind down on it, silently begging him to work you open enough to take his cock, but he doesn't move any faster, apparently content to just drive you insane. 

You're nearly begging by the time he turns you on your side and moves to lay behind you, hiking your leg up and pushing most of his length inside of you in one faultless motion that makes you choke and sob his name. 

That stretch is back, delicious as it is painful as he splits you open. His thrusts are the same slow pace, cock dragging against gummy walls as he drapes an arm over you to toy with your swollen clit. 

It takes you both longer than usual to come, but when you do, your whole body trembles against him, and you have to suck in several deep breaths until you feel like your lungs start actually filling with air. 

Mike paints your back with warm cum, groaning right in your ear as he rubs against you, his cock sliding easily up and down your skin and making more of a mess. 

That unnerving feeling blooms in your chest again, crawls up into your throat. 

Tonight had been too casual, too natural. The way you hung out and watched a movie was already a little strange. Him fucking you from behind, holding you tight against his body, was too tender. And, now, after he leaves to grab a wet towel and uses it to clean your back, you find yourself searching for words again only to come up with passionate—intimate. 

And, words like that scare you.

[ n e x t ]

#miche zacharias x reader #mike zacharias x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #aot fanfiction #attack on titan fanfiction #mels prima vista #mels frat house

[wtfevenismypage]

Observer, Not Profiler

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

Summary: You’re similar to a profiler, but you can tell almost anything about a person just from a single glance. What they had for dinner, if they took a bath or shower, their name, favorite color, if they lie, even if they’re good in bed. You’ve been running from the government ever since you got caught hacking into their systems and since then you have been diagnosed with Extreme anxiety, anxious tics, and paranoia. But now the BAU need you’re help in Identifying killers.

Warnings: panic attacks, Strong language, mentions of murder and rape.4

A/N: I have no fucking clue what I’m talking about when it comes to the fake profiling, if it’s possible, or if trauma is how it’s caused, plus I’m exhausted so just roll with it please

“We have less than two days to find this guy before he kills again. What the hell are wee gonna do?”

Everyone sat in silence, contemplating and thinking about Derek Morgan’s words.

Sighs are heard all around before A youthful genius speaks.

“What if we brought someone else in? A-another profiler? Hotch, what about that girl from a few years ago, her friends said she could tell anything about anyone from a single glance? What if we brought her in?”

Aaron Hotchner rushes to his computer, frantically typing things into the screen and looks at the rest of his team.

“That should fish her out.”

Running from the government was difficult. You couldn't be in one place for more than a year, Never make friends, stay quiet, change your numbers and any personal information every six months, and if you see the police... Run.

You’ve lived like this for six years, ever since you were fifteen.

The reason you’re running is simple, yet hilarious.

Your best friend told you to hack into the governments to see if birds really do spy on us for the government. Of course you never found an answer because they already kicked you out before getting to it.

Then they came for you, at least ten swat cops raided your house, held a gun to your head as they searched the rooms.

When a group of profilers came in, and watched as you told them what they ate for lunch the day before, when they showered last, when the last time they had sex was, and shocked faces spread all around as you did the same with the swat cops, even though they were covered.

You’re currently watching you’re small T.V in horror, watching the news come unraveled.

“This woman has brutally murdered thirteen people, please, if you know anything, don’t hesitate to call us.”

Your face was plastered all over the news, every channel had your face on it.

You’ve never killed a single person. The closest you ever got was kicking a CIA agent in the groin and banging his head against your knee, but that hurt you more than it hurt him.

The woman speaking was a blonde woman with blue eyes, she has a petite stature that tells a lot more than any normal human would think.

Jennifer.

That had to be her name. She was an interrogator when you were originally taken in. 

Her face as you told everyone about the last time she had sex was hilarious. 

It was even better when it was confirmed to be true.

You frantically run around, grabbing a bag of runaway essentials and an apple before rushing out of your apartment and running as fast as possible, trying to get as far away as possible from this old life.

The street was littered with cops, they were practically on every street corner, talking to everyone they can see.

Panic and stress fill your senses quickly, causing you to break into a run down an alley way.

Yet of course, a few cops see you and chase you, because they’re cops and they see everything apparently.

You keep running, even when you feel like you can’t run anymore you keep running because if you get caught you’ll see them again, you know you will.

You’ll see those profilers.

They’re still chasing, but you start to slow down, unable to speed your slow jog to a run.

One of the cops tackle you to the ground, pinning your arms behind your back before shouting a slur of words.

But you can’t hear anything over the ringing in your ears.

you were caught. They think you murdered someone. Multiple people even.

A single tear rolls down your face as they cuff you, lifting you to your feet and dragging you away.

The team stared at you from behind the two-way mirror, watching as you twiddle your thumbs and stare confused as your head jerks to the side quickly.

“What’s up with her head?”

“Anxious Ticking, she was diagnosed with extreme anxiety and minor Paranoia soon after being caught. Anxious ticking is a system of these. she’s been looking over her shoulders for six years, so it’s no wonder she has these symptoms.”

Spencer answer’s Morgan’s question while looking at the young girl.

He was so intrigued by you. Another child genius like himself, hacking into the government at 15, and you could tell anything about anyone just by looking at them, yet you didn't like being called a profiler.

He was truly puzzled by you.

Your head tics to the side again, and you feel a red heat smack itself on your cheeks.

You knew they were watching you from behind the mirror, you just didn't know who they were. And ticking was always your biggest insecurity. You hated doing it in front of other people.

The door clicks open and you jump in your seat. You look up to see who it is.

A dark man with thick black eyebrows, he has a little beard and mustache, just covering his chin and upper lip, his build is lean and muscly, but not super muscly.

“Derek. Y-Your name is Derek.”

He nods with a kind smile, sitting down in front of you.

“Your name is Y/n.”

You nod and look down at your wrists, which are chained together with handcuffs.

“I didn’t... I didn’t hurt anyone...”

You whisper out with a shaky breath and tears in your eyes.

He nods knowingly, leaning back on the chair he’s in.

“We know you didn’t. We had to get you out of hiding somehow. This was the only way.”

You stare at him for a long time, shock moving in with the fear in your stomach.

“W-why? So th-that you could a-arrest me for hacking into the- the gov-government?” 

He looked at you, concern shielded by confusion as he stands, walking around you to the coffee machine. Your head swivels around, following his every move  with your eyes, making sure he doesn't hurt you.

The rest of the team watches as Morgan speaks, asking you about your age.

“tw-twenty one. I’m... I’m twenty one.”

They were in awe as they watched your eyes study Morgan, you travel all over his body.

“Y-you’re thirty three...You’re name is D-Derek and you’re thirty... three.”

“How the hell does she do that?”

Everyone looked at Reid, hoping for an explanation.

“It could be an effect of a traumatic childhood, often times children learn to just pick up behaviors but there have been a few very rare cases where they learn to pick up more than that. It’s dependent on their intelligence and education though. I’ve never seen a case like this though. It isn’t just looking and getting their name magically, it’s studying everything and narrowing it down.”

“Cool party trick. But shouldn't we be asking about how she hacked into the government at 15?”

“Well for one, she’s terrified right now, she wouldn’t tell us if we asked her. Morgan’s trying to get her to calm down right now. And two, if she was skilled enough, she could hack into the government. The techies of the government should have caught her as soon as she made her first attempt. I don’t understand how she made it through all of the firewalls and blocks.”

The team continued to watch as your wrists painfully slam together twice, causing the coffee cup in your hand to splash onto your lap. An embarrassed blush crawls up your neck as you apologize three times.

 Reid writes this down under your tics. So far he had head-jerking and wrist bumping.

“She doesn’t like when people watch her ticking. To her it’s embarrassing. Reassure her that it’s alright, chances are someone or multiple people have put her down about this.”

Spencer informs Morgan through the ear piece while you rub at the now warm spots on your legs.

“It’s alright, don’t apologize for it, it’s a natural instinct, we’ve seen it before.”

You turn to the two way mirror, once again made aware of the other people watching you.

“I... Ho-how many people are... Wa-watching?”

You ask, voice shaking in a low whisper that you only wanted him to hear.

“There’s six people out there, the rest of my team. You saw three of us six years ago, but two people since then have resigned.”

You nod at his words, feeling tiny again as your wrists slam together again.

There was Jason, he seemed scary, a serious look was on his face but his words were kind, he tried to calm you down.

Next was Derek, He was emotionally charged, he yelled at you every time you moved, but it was only in fear that you were going to hurt anyone else.

Then Elle. She was so kind despite carrying a gun, she held a normal conversation with you as if you were a scared girl, and not a criminal like everyone else treated you.

Next was Aaron, He scared you the most. he held a gun to you the entire time and spoke to you like you were scum, he treated you with confusion and sent tears to your eyes.

Lastly was the nameless genius. You never were able to figure out his name, you knew that he was a genius as you were, but you couldn’t tell a single thing about him.

“Is Elle there? can I talk to her?”

You speak, a small smile creeping onto your face. He chuckles and smiles, leaning forward in his chair.

“Unfortunately Agent Greenaway has resigned.”

The smile falls as you begin twiddling your thumbs again.

“W... What about the long haired man? He was very t-tall, and skinn-skinny... He-he’s smart... very smart... Am I... Am I able to talk to him?”

Derek thinks for a moment before standing up.

“let me check with the team.”

He walks away, through the door and leaving you alone in the room.

“She wants to talk with Reid.”

Morgan states as he walks into the room with the rest of his team, looking at Reid who looks pretty terrified.

“She doesn’t know his name.”

“Well it has been six years.”

“She has an eidetic memory. And it would be difficult for anyone to forget any little detail from the day she started running.”

“So should we send Reid in?”

“It’s up to you Reid. She doesn’t prove to be a threat.”

Reid stands up and looks at the girl with tears in her eyes one last time before slowly stepping into the room.

You jump at least three feat when the door clicks open, staring at the new man with wide eyes. He apologizes and sits down in front of you.

“Yo-your name is... It’s... I can’t... I can’t read you. I can’t ev-even tell how old you are...”

His eyes widen as he smiles a little bit, trying to calm your nerves.

“I’m Dr. Spencer Reid.”

You smile a little at finally discovering his name, you’ve been thinking about it ever since you got away.

“Dr. Spencer Reid.”

The tears that cloud your vision finally fall, dripping onto the table.

“I’m sorry. I-I don’t know why I’m cry-crying...”

You stutter out, looking down to wipe your tears away.

“No need to apologize, it’s understandable considering the amount of stress you’re receiving right now.”

“Um... Am I... Am I going to jail?”

He doesn’t answer for a moment, thinking about what to say before scratching his head.”

“No I don’t believe so, There was no big harm done with the hacking, so The worst you’ll have to deal with is quite a bit of questioning. No, what we brought you in for is help. We understand you have the ability to profile people with a single loo-”

“No.”

You speak in a loud tone which causes Reid to jump a little, and the rest of the team is put on edge at your sudden tone.

“I’m not... I’m not a pro- a profi... I’m not one of you.”

You curse yourself in your head for yelling, you really didn’t want any of this attention.

“I understand that. I’m sorry, You are able to identify anything about a person by just looking at them, and we need your help with that.”

You look at the mirror, staring at your own reflection for a while before asking a question.

“I don’t have a choice do I?”

His lips stretch into a thin line, his cheeks puffing out where his lips end, and he shakes his head.

“Of course you have a choice. You can say no, and you’ll be free to live your life, or you can help us, we’ll pay you a respectable amount, make sure you have a place to stay for a few months, and make sure you can see your friends again.”

Tears flowed down your face freely when he said you could see your friends. Your friends were your entire life before this. After your parents kicked you out for being an athiest, you lived with your best friend since the age of 13.

“I... I’ll help... I’ll help.”

He genuinely smiles, holding his hand out with a small item in his hands.

“Go ahead and unchain yourself, when you’re ready the rest of the team and I are right outside and we’ll brief you.”

He drops the key in front of you before standing, awkwardly waving, and then he walks out leaving you alone in the room.

You try to pick the key up, but seeing as both hands are chained underneath the table, so you sit awkwardly, your gaze switching between your hands, the key and the door, but you can’t call out for Spencer, the panic in your lungs are taking all the air, not letting you speak. 

“Should someone help her?”

“No. I would like to see how she gets out of this.”

Hotch tells Morgan before watching you kick the other end of the table, bouncing the key towards you.

It slides into your lap, which you quickly thrust your hips up to get to your hands, and you get yourself out of the cuffs.

Your fist quickly comes into contact with your forehead, another new tic.

You look at the mirror again before walking to the door and grabbing the knob, twisting it open and looking inside.

Your eyes flashed over the six people multiple times, identifying their names and ages. Some from memory, and others from your knowledge.

“Thank you for agreeing to help us. If you’ll follow us please. Dave, I want you and Morgan at the crime scene again. JJ, set up a press conference. Reid And Prentiss, You two and I are working on victimology with Miss Y/n.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fan fiction #spencer reid x y/n #dr. spencer reid #dr spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid x you #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #aaron hotchner #penelope garcia #emily prentiss #derek morgan #jennifer jareau #david rossi

[thatphatoven]

The Little Mechanic

Childe x female mechanic reader

Prologue

A mechanic from Snezhnaya reunites with a childhood friend.

AN; The prologue is a bit confusing since two stories were told at the same time; I did that to make it more interesting and wanted a flashback with your fellow companion. Also, this is my first story that I'm playing around with, so some parts might change, but that really depends.

word count; 1,328

Unedited 

The cold misty morning nipped your skin as the sound of chirping played their familiar melody. Huffing, you leaned forward, gripping the straps of the hefty leather backpack. On the right side of your hip, dangling proud, was the purple electro vision swaying back and forth with your steps. Liyue ruins were bizarrely calm at this hour, with the lack of destruction from the Fatui or the abyss order itching to kill whoever was there. Only nature at its finest reclaiming territory. Grinning, you leaped the last couple of steps; to be greeted by the vast land of mountains as the wind dance around you.

Liyue was definitely different from Snezhnaya.

Instead of the endless snow from Tsaritsa, Rex Lapis gifted Liyue with beautiful forms of rocks, along with historical battles hidden deep in these ruin lands. Anyone greedy for riches only dares to explore these areas, but not you. The badge of a hammer stitched on your newspaper cap tells a different story. You were just a nameless mechanic shooting your shot in a bustling nation. Though not everything comes cheap. Living accommodations were hard enough to pay, but haggling for overpriced supplies was another finance. Besides, why waste time on that when the remains of an old society are available for you to seize.

"Must we walk all this way?" Wheezing, a little blue mage pushed himself to the last step. Leaning forward, the wand in his hand carried half of his weight as he pants in exhaustion. "Sorry, but you know how badly I want to see the view," you spoke. Unclasping your bag from your back, you handed him a bottle of water. "stay hydrated, midget" "I can't have you dying on me now, or I'll have to drag you back to the inn. "

"I hate you."

You smiled at his words as he chugged the remaining drops of water. Meeting Gever was an accidental blessing. Aside from being a full-time mechanic, once in a while, you did some odd commissions from the adventures guild to earn a quick buck, like Lan's request to locate the unseen razor or typically clear out a hilichurl camp. After a yet failed attempt searching for the sword, you witness a hoard of abyss mages hovering over a chest. Doing their usual chants, and rituals one particular was chanting away from the group. How odd.

What was more abnormal was that it didn't have a shield to protect itself. His steps were also off from everyone else; somehow, though, he manages to keep up. Deciding it was time to leave, a blonde-headed girl trek towards them while catching their attention. Startled, they all pointed their wands in her direction, preparing her demise. Throwing shards of ice and water at her, she began her attacks with boulders of rocks as her protection. That abnormal abyss mage watched from its spot. Its body trembles at the sight of its comrades meeting their faith. Suddenly he ran, his little legs pushed forward to your direction, not knowing another human was there, instantly slamming into you.

"Stay back, or I'll hurt you" it pointed the end of its wand at you.

"Hey, greasy! You lost your hearing?" snapping out of your daze; you looked at your companion approaching. "Seriously though, it would be better leaving me back in the inn so that I can be safe from everyone," Gever complained. "If I did, then who else can help me carry all of the chaos circuits?" "Maybe that Guhan nerd?" he grumbled, kicking a pebble out of annoyance.

"He'll bother me with questions and bring that exorcist with him; I can't add more baggage when you fill the entire bag." "And beside the inn will probably send me to the millelith for hosting a little fugitive." "Let's just get this over and done with." sighing, he trek ahead of you, with his shoulder sagging. You followed behind, shaking your head at his actions.

"Hurt me?" crossing your arms; you stared at the abyss mage with boredom. "Don't take this as a joke, you-you stubborn weakling!!!" the mage stomped his feet on the ground, gripping tightly on the staff. "If I remember correctly? I'm not the one who ran away from battle" "Well, uh, because I'm not prepared to fight" "Alright."

You shrugged and turned around from the harmless being and began your journey back to Liyue. "W-wait!" he cried. Dropping on his knees, he wailed, "I know I shouldn't trust a stranger, but also a human. I'm just weak and extremely terrified of being alone." "If you can tell, I can't create a shield, and my chants are weak against a slime nevertheless a magicless civilian." staring back at the field of destruction, the young adventurer stood triumph looting the chest the mages possessively guarded. The fight was an exciting show, especially how a visionless traveler was able to use the power of Geo, but it was the way she played with bladed caught your attention. It wasn't the skill she controls that scared you. Instead, it was the locked-up memories from the past that resurfaced.

The afternoon fell on you and Gever, and the entire time, the little mage complained.

"My feet hurt" "I'm not carrying you."

"Can we take a five-minute break?" "We had one a minute ago."

"Just to let you know, I can't use any cool spells to protect us" "Yes, you told me this before we left."

Shaded under a sunsettia tree, both of you were sitting outside the abandoned laboratory munching on the fruit. The ruins in front of you were notorious for their scrapes and the abandoned research lab for the eleventh harbinger Dottore. The fluid of a sunsettia landed on your blue overalls as you stared at the entrance. Something wasn't right. Signs of other lives indicated you and Gever wouldn't be exploring alone. The path had fresh shoe prints of not only two adults but also a child. If you also look close to the doorway, it was slightly ajar.

"let's go," adjusting the backpack on your shoulders. You helped Gever on his feet as he started his new list of complaints. "Are you sure I should go in? What if a ruin guard squishes me?" "Then I'll replace you with Xingqui" "You are a cruel mechanic." He stuck to your legs as you entered the domain. Whoever was here definitely assist you in lighting the area. Vines covered the walls, with the occasional branches hampering your path. Sounds of the machinery moved in beat, stopping every second only to start again. Once in a while, you pause to loot crates digging for good resources. It was the sound of laughter that made you froze. "We're gonna die!!" Gever, he exclaimed in a whisper. His grasp on your leg tightens much more, frantically searching for the source. "Ignore that; maybe it's just a ruin guard oil that needs to be replaced." You went back to your mini raid. More on edge, the little mage closed his eyes and began his count to ten.

"Teucer!"

The chaos circuit once in your hand fell, now laid on the ground. Your eyes widen at that voice; it held so much mischief and love—Ocen blue eyes. Yes, those innocent pupils that carry the world just for you and him. Shuddering, you grabbed Gever arm and pulled him back to your arrival. If he was here, then more pain will emerge. The mage appeared to be more relieved at your sudden decision. Why was he here? The Fatui long gone don't roam this area mainly for there are way too many active ruin guards alive. The entrance was close, bits of lights shone beneath the door.

"Big sister (Y/N)!"

A cheerful tone paralyzed you. Suddenly more footsteps joined the young boy, a small gasp escape the male behind his brother. Turning around, your eyes met with the same baby blue eyes from all those childhood years ago.

#genshin imagines #genshin childe #genshin #gi #genshin impact x reader #childe #genshin tartagalia #tartaglia #childe x reader #female reader #fanfic #snezhnaya #liyue #childhood friends #ajax #lumine #reader is female #reader is not traveler #reader insert #abyss mage #zhongli #paimon #tartaglia x reader #x reader #series

[shurelyasreverie]

Hi! Could you do a oneshot where the reader (male) is thrown to the ocean by some people because he looks like a girl due to his shoulder length hair, the reader doesn't know how to swim but Pyke saves the reader, teaches him how to swim, becomes his friend and he protects him? Have a nice day!

I'm really sorry this plot isn't specifically what you requested! Your request just gave me an amazing plot idea and it sort of took a life of it's own, I hope the final product is still okay with you!

Pyke x Reader: To the Depths

Word Count: 1806

Warning: Physical and verbal harassment based on gender stereotypes (feminine), violence, drowning and swearing. Please read with caution.

Only when you felt the salty wind against your cheek did you fully register where you were. Hauled up to deck by your own mates, their hands everywhere on your body, their grip strangling all your limbs. They laughed as you thrashed against their hold, trying to stand up but they forced your knees onto the splintered timber.

You should've known this was going to happen. You could do your duties as efficiently and quietly as possible, avoid conflict with everyone on this godforsaken ship, and they'll still find a way to make you bait if they wanted to. Pirates were pirates after all, they thrived off destruction, stooping lower than the low for some short-term gain.

“C'mon, won't you give me some attention, lass?” A pirate asked, twirling a lock of your hair. When you jerked your head away he immediately spat in your face in retaliation. Multiple pirates pinned you down.

“We'll take 'em to the depths, aye?” Another suggested to the crew and they cheered in agreement. A pirate searched through your pockets, searching for any valuables and you squirmed. Through teary eyes, you managed to see a figure passing in the distance, a small sliver of hope.

“Captain!” You screamed. The crew stopped. The captain stopped in his tracks and started walking towards you. Looking down at your pitiful form, he regarded the rest of the pirates.

“What's this, then?” The captain looked at one of the pirates leading the harassment. In response, he hesitated, stuttering to explain himself. The captain tutted and you started to wiggle free from some of the hands that were on you.

The captain smirked, his expression darkening.

“You've got t' send the princess off properly!”

The crew cheered as the captain retrieved a ball and chain and your heart dropped. Panic rose within you, making you feel nauseous as you tried harder to run but all hands were on you, pushing your back into the ground. Your limbs were pinned to the floor as the captain approached you, attaching the chained cannonball to your ankle. Through your tears of fear, there were tears of rage. You screamed not only for your innocence but also at the world for your unfair treatment. You screamed at the crew who had wronged you. All of them you damned to hell as they threw you overboard.

You sunk deeper into the sea. You weren't able to get a proper breath of air before entering the waters, your throat was already burning. Reaching down, you pushed at the chain, hoping it'll slip off of your leg and let you swim free. Eyes stinging at the salt, you could see brief lights and movement all around you. The seas of Bilgewater were known for its thriving creatures that attacked and ate many. Hopefully one would take pity on you and feast on you before you ran out of oxygen. It'd be quicker anyway.

But you continued to sink, deeper into the abyss. The waters so dark you couldn't see ahead, the pressure making every limb hurt. Your head was pounding, your pulse was slowing, white spots were fielding your vision. As numbness started to prick at your extremities and spread further up your limbs, you gave up and let your consciousness fade.

You were certain you were on the way to meet your maker. The weight on your ankle had disappeared, you felt a pressure on your chest, lifting you up. Water rushing around you, the pressure of the sea was starting to alleviate, you sensed the world was becoming lighter as you faded further into darkness.

The next sensation you ever felt was a pounding on your chest. Not the pounding of your heartbeat but hands on your ribs, forcing a pulse back into you. A rush of water exited your lungs and you choked it out, turning to your side to cough as you gasped for air. Yet when you finally opened your eyes, you weren't at an unfamiliar looking spirit realm, instead you were back at the all-too familiar docks of Bilgewater.

Looking up, you noticed a man sitting cross-legged, watching you with glowing blue eyes. His lower face obscured by a red bandana, yet when he spoke his voice didn't sound muffled at all. Instead it was deep and gurgling, encompassing you, as if you were back in the abyss.

“Thought you'd never wake,” he stated and you stared at him.

“Did you-” you choked as your voice came out raspy. You coughed up some more water but the man seemed patient enough, waiting for you. “Did you save me?”

He nodded.

“Why?”

“The depths ain't a place for the livin',” he responded.

“I'm only living thanks to you,” you admitted. Not knowing what else to do, you held out your hand to him. “(Y/N).”

The man took your hand, shaking it firmly but he didn't reply and looked out to the docks. It was fully night, the line where the sky ended and the sea begun had blurred. You frowned as you went through what you thought would be your final memories. How you were engulfed in darkness, warmth absent and the pressure crushing.

“How did you save me?”

There was a low, rumbling chuckle in response. He took his time, calculating his answer. The man seemed nonchalant but you noticed his eyes cautiously dart to you occasionally.

“I didn't do any savin', I just put you back where you belonged, with the livin'.”

“But how?” You tried to pry. “You only have your harpoon, possibly a hunters knife. How did you reach me in time?”

“I was already in the depths.”

Your head tilted in confusion trying to piece together his ambiguous answers. Was he implying he wasn't even alive? A human just like you? But you looked at his scarred face, how his eyes glowed. How the very essence of the abyss seemed to emanate around him. Perhaps he wasn't so human after all.

Sighing, you stood up, trying to shake off your nerves. You thanked him for his aid, checking your pockets to possibly give him some gold out of thanks. But it was only then you realised, everything you owned was back on that cursed ship. Any change of clothes, the few valuables you had, were all in the quarters you shared with the crew. Without a doubt they would have raided all your belongings and taken everything.

By now the shock had started to leave your body. The cold of the depths had left you and now you were only burning with rage. You didn't deserve any of this. Only a day ago you were living a tolerable life. You thought you had the respect of the crew and captain, rations were decent and the work wasn't so strenuous. Now you had nothing.

“I'll make them pay.”

“Hm?” Your rescuer looked at you with raised eyebrows. You hadn't even noticed that the words escaped your lips, but you looked at him with pure intent. All these years you tried to take the peaceful, high moral ground. Your unfortunate social standing meant you had no choice but to take a life aboard a ship but you tried to maintain a moral code, you tried to give those who wronged you the benefit of the doubt. No more.

“My crew,” you spat out the words. “I did everything by the damn book. I helped them out, I did my part.”

“You a pirate?” he asked. The tone in his voice changed, cautious, a hint of hostility.

“In the loosest sense of the word,” you huffed. “I was on a pirate ship, I helped a crew and worked for a captain but don't group me up with those bastards.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “They wronged you?”

“Who do you think threw me overboard?” You seethed.

“You want them dead?”

The simple question made you hesitate. You had never condemned someone to such a fate before, let alone multiple. The word “dead” held such a strong grip on you, especially now you had such a close experience to it. But you remembered how you were dragged out onto the decks, the jeering faces of the entire ship as they wanted to see you gone. How they strung you along for so many months, using your aid until they deemed it more entertaining to throw you overboard. They used you.

“Yes.”

Like a judge that had slammed down the gavel, you made your verdict and decided the sentence.

“I see,” the man stood up. “And what're you willin' to give for that?”

“Everything,” you replied. Admittedly, you had nothing left to give right now, but you were determined to build yourself back up. For the entire ship to feel just a fraction of the pain you felt. For them to pay for their crime against you and all the crimes they've committed before.

The man looked out thoughtfully. He took out one of the many daggers strapped to him, offering the handle out to you.

“The name's Pyke.”

You felt the name had a special importance, since he was reluctant to tell you before. You almost felt proud that he told you, it was a symbol of trust. You reached to take the knife, fingers curling around the handle.

“A tavern down the docks takes payment in work. You can stay with 'em, they're good people,” Pyke instructed. “I'll find you in the morning. You've got a lot to learn.”

“Thank you,” your were stunned. “But why?”

“Why?”

“Why're you helping me?”

“They've got a debt to pay. All of 'em” Pyke replied. “You're a rare one. Good people ain't easy to come by, even less willin' to do what I do, I'll take 'em when I can.”

“Who are you?” You asked.

“You know me as Pyke.”

“No, more than that. Who – or what – are you?”

“You'll figure out soon enough,” he chuckled, his glowing eyes turning into crescents as he grinned through the bandana. He jerked his head towards his dagger that was still in your hands. “You'll need to learn how to use that well.”

“I already know a couple of tricks,” you admitted. Pyke sent an approving look as you attached the blade to your belt. “And just how exactly do you plan to eliminate an entire crew and their captain?”

Even though you could only see half his face, you could tell how his smile changed. How it became sadistic, wild, his eyes shining with the green light you thought you only saw in the monsters of the sea.

“We drag 'em to the depths.”

#fanfic #fanfiction #imagine #oneshot #lol #league of legends #league of legends imagine #league of legends x reader #lol x reader #pyke #league of legends pyke #pyke league of legends #pyke x reader #x reader #self insert #y/n #drama #shurelyasreverie

[junquisite]

Blind Date

WORD COUNT : 1.3K

GENRE : Fluff,  Wookjin/ Nine X OC

WARNING : None

NOTE : This is my first Onlyoneof fic so like..enjoy!

There are a lot of ways a blind coffee date can go for you. Mostly it is meeting someone you have never met before, smiling awkwardly in the beginning and hopefully it gets better and more comfortable and if all goes well, you find yourself with a second date, probably a dinner date.

For Bora, it went NOTHING like that. 

It started normally - a Saturday morning filled with her best friend raiding her closet and making her try any cloth combination she deems fit until choosing the one she actually said she wanted to try - a simple knee-length beige one piece and a cardigan around her shoulder lest it gets chilly in the evening. She reached the cafe with regular messages from the same best friend on her phone about how she’ll probably sweep the guy off his feet because she looked so pretty.

It was a blind date. Her first one at that, set by an office friend that she gave into after about 4 times of being asked. 10 minute passes and she just assumed he was late. She ordered herself some water when the waiter came.

20 minute passed. Then 25. Then 30. Eventually she could feel the stares of the staff and people pitying and there was only so long she could wait for a date she knew she had been stood up for. 

As soon as she pushed her chair back though, the chair in front of her was pulled back and a young man bowed at her as he rushed out, “I’m sorry i’m so late, you had to wait too long didn't you?” he said as he sat and signed at her to sit too.

She took the seat and stared at him. Okay so it was not as much as a blind date per se, she had seen the picture of the guy she was supposed to meet and this extremely handsome idol looking DEFINITELY younger guy was not him.

“Who are you?” was what she asked first and he gave her a shy smile.

“Jung Wookjin. I know I had no right to come and sit here but I was here to meet with someone who had to cancel out and it looked like you were stood up too so I thought maybe we could bond over our broken hearts.”

She stared a bit at him, utterly confused and trying to understand why he was here which apparently made him uncomfortable as he started fidgeting.

“If you want to leave I will understand.” he said as he looked sideways and a giggle escaped her lips. He looked so cute, pouting slightly like that.

“I’m Kim Bora.'' The smile she got at her response made her look away. She wasn't used to sitting in front of cute men, she was bound to turn red.

“So how old are you Bora-ssi?”

“Aah im 24, you?” she asked and he smirked at her.

“I'm turning 22 soon, can I call you Noona thne?” she nodded as she sighed in relief when the waiter came to take their order.

The slight awkward conversation took a turn for the better with every passing second until they looked out and saw it was getting dark. They decided to leave then and as they walked towards the subway station, Wookjin grabbed her arm to stop her.

“Noona.. Why don't we have dinner too? I mean there is this restaurant nearby that I have heard alot about and I would like to try but I have never had anyone to go with and you are here now but of course you don't have to say yes-” his rambling stopped when she started laughing.

“I'm hungry anyway, lets go.” she said as his eyes gleamed with happiness, and during the whole small walk of 5 minutes, he went on and on about the reviews of that restaurant.

The dinner date too, went effortlessly smoothly as the coffee date had gone. They were not even halfway done with dinner when plans for the next date were made - to watch a movie the next day only they both apparently have been wanting to. By the time dinner ended, plans to meet for lunch during their breaks on monday were also made since their offices were nearby.

Phone numbers were exchanged amidst laughter and giggles over stories, incidents at works and even university life popped up. It was fun - Wookjin was fun, Bora realised as time passed. He had this really bright personality and the way to tell even mundane stories as if they were the best thing that ever happened. And the way his whole attention was on her when she spoke, asking questions and wanting to know her- it had been a while since she had felt such a connection with someone in a short span of time and any doubts she had before of maybe she was moving too fast went out of the window by the time they left the restaurant.

It was nighttime and slightly chilly as she wrapped the cardigan around her tightly and rubbed her hands. It was cute how he grumbled slightly and she turned to ask him what was wrong.

“Your cardigan makes everything tough Noona. I could have offered you my jacket when you would have complained about the cold weather but no, you brought the cardigan.” he whined as he glared daggers at the cardigan around her. His whiny tone along with his comment made her laugh so hard she was almost sure there were tears in her eyes.

His little giggles at her laughter and pinkish cheeks did not escape her eyes and she stood up on her tiptoes to pinch his cheeks.

“You’re so cute.”

“I'm not cute Noona, I'm not supposed to be cute!”

Even the way he complained was endearing to Bora as she dragged him towards the subway station.

Half an hour later, he was standing in front of her apartment building as he had insisted on walking her home even when she insisted she could go and it was a safe area.

“I had fun today Noona.” he said as he smiled shyly at her. 

“Me too. I'm kind of glad my blind date didn't turn up.” 

“Im happy too. Can I confess something before we end this date?” he asked and she nodded, curious about his confession.

“My friend did not bail on me, they were running a bit late and I was the only one who cancelled because I wanted to sit with you. I didn't want anything that might happen between us to be founded on lies.”

Well that..doesn't really change anything but is still news for her. It was also slightly flattering to know this and he had already said about 10 times that it was not out of pity why he came to sit with her. And the fact that he was not only adorable, intelligent and interesting but also mature? 

“I.. it's alright I suppose? Although I feel bad for your friend who you cancelled on because of me.”

“He’ll be fine.” he said with a huge smile which made her smile in return.

After a few seconds of simply looking at each other, Wookjin was the first to look away. After clearing his throat and with a clearly red face, he looked at her and said, “So I uhh-- will get going Noona.”

It was a spur of the moment thing. She had not planned for it to happen at all but something about his red face made her want to tease him even more as she pulled him down from the lapel of his jacket and left a small kiss on his cheek.

The result was satisfactory - his face turned even more red, which she did not knew was possible, and he stuttered out incomprehensibly for a few seconds. It was cute, just like everything else about him as she had come to realise.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Wookijn-ah?” she asked as he nodded quickly and then finally looked up at her with the biggest smile on his adorable red face. 

She really was happy her blind date stood her up.

#onlyoneof #ooonet #onlyoneof nine #wookjin #jung wookjin #onlyoneof scenarios #onlyoneof imagines #onlyoneof scenario #onlyoneof imagine #onlyoneof fluff

[royalty-of-fandoms]

Short Dorlene fic: A Game of Cat and Mouse

Words: 561 (it's short ik)

Marlene hadn’t thought this hard in weeks. She hasn’t needed to, classes were easy for her this time of year. But something had gotten her thinking. Ever since Lily and James had gotten together things had become clear between the group. Obviously she was happy for them but part of her was jealous.

A few years back she remembered the Dark Arts teacher mentioning patronuses, or rather the symbolism in. The lesson itself had bored her to sleep but she’s glad she remembers at least some of it. 

Her professor had told them that in almost all the cases, couples who were meant to be soulmates shared a patronus with one another. And while that's cute and all. Her and Cas don't.

Marlene waits for Cas outside of the Herbology room. She finally forces a grin when her partner walks out of the room. "Hey Cassie. Anywhere else you gotta be today?"

Cas returns the smile, "Not now. You didn't have to wait for me."

Marlene waves her hand and loops her arm through Dorcas'. "You know I've been thinking-"

"Well that's a first."

Marlene glares up at her partner, "I think. Not always very well, but I do."

Cas laughs, "I was kidding Marls. You have brilliant thoughts."

Marlene didn't miss the extra words that Cas muttered, "Most of the time."

Marlene drives a sharp elbow into their side. That only makes Cas laugh more. Marlene continues what she was going to say, "As I was saying before that extremely rude interruption. I've been thinking about Lily and James."

"What about them? Did Lily mention anything to you?" Cas looks down.

Marlene shakes her head, "No, nothing like that. Don't you think it's lovely that their patronuses match?"

Cas opens their mouth to say something before dragging Marlene down into one of the window seats. "Where are you trying to go?"

"Do you remember what they said about patronuses and their…. Their soulmates?"

Cas sighs, "Has this really been bothering you? Marls it's nothing! Just because we don't have the same ones doesn't make us amazing. Maybe not soulmates but I'm fine with that as long as I'm with you."

Marlene huffs, "I know that. But ours are complete opposites! All we were ever told as children was that the cats catch the birds."

Cas takes Marlene's hand, "I was told differently. My mom always loves to tell stories and this one has always been one of my favorites. Do you want me to tell you?"

Marlene nods, her hair coming loose. Cas reaches forward to fix it. "My mum always told me that the cat and bird were friends. And that when the cat went out to hunt, it would chase the bird. The bird and cat played tag games of tag until the cat would finally win. I suppose she may have just told me because I cried over the birds my cat dragged in but it stuck with me. I really don't think just because mine is a raven and yours is a cat that we aren't meant for each other. I can't speak for you but you complete me Marlene. I wouldn't trade anyone for you even if theirs was a raven too."

"God I love you Cas." Marlene whispers.

Cas grins, "There's the Marlene I know. Come on, let's go raid the kitchens for tonight."

#*happy wiggle* #i enjoyed making this #dorlene feburary event #harry potter

[kondo-hijikata]

My most knowledgeable Kondou knower, can I ask you what makes a Kondou RP blog an actual decent Kondou RP blog? What does it take to get this man on paper correctly? What are your tips (if you'd not mind to share!)

*blush blush* you flatter me. D: I can rattle off some info but it’s important for me to toss out the disclaimer: writing is based on interpretation so if anyone happens to disagree with what I lay out here, please go on with how you want to write and ignore me. Why am I saying that? I know how easy it is to see some random post on writing or characterization and feel demotivated. I’m majorly MAJORLY salty about how modern media snubs him and pushes him aside, so if you’re interested in writing Kondo’s character, I’m already supporting you.

As with any character, it depends on what universe/series you’re writing for but I think all the Kat-chans I’ve encountered can fit into some of the same qualities and share the same historical background.

- He is an ideal samurai through and through. That means he’s loyal to the core of his very soul to the Tokugawa regime and sticks to his convictions. He will die for the shogunate. He will send his soldiers to die for the shogunate. Protecting the Tokugawa is his number one priority.

- He has great pride in being a samurai and honoring what it means to really be one because of his roots. Though his father was well-off, he still hailed from a farming family which was the lowest societal class. Before the Edo era, shogun Toyotomi Hideyoshi banned the ownership of swords and other weapons from anyone who wasn’t a samurai. When you’re living in rural areas though, the government can’t protect you from thieves and the like, so farmers studied kenjutsu to look after their own lands and possessions. Kondo was dedicated in his practice and while his father was away, he (as a teenager) and his brothers stopped thieves from raiding their house. His talents were noticed by Kondo Shusuke from the Shieikan, who was looking for an heir. Shusuke went on to adopt him and therefore taking him from the lowest class to the highest. Amazing, incredible. You’re doing great, sweetie!

- At this point in the Edo era, samurai were said to have become lazy as there were no wars to fight in. Kondo rejected this and was dedicated to being what he believed was the ideal spirit of bushi. He was respectful in how he spoke to superiors and other samurai.

- He went through several name changes throughout his life. He was born as Miyagawa Katsugoro. Upon adoption, he took the name Shimazaki Katsuta. When he succeeded in taking over the Shieikan, he was known as Kondo Isami. Toward the end of his life when the Shinsengumi returned to Edo, he was known by the aliases Okubo Tsuyoshi and Okubo Yamato to protect his identity from Shinsengumi enemies quickly closing in on the east.

- He could be good-natured around his friends and had a sense of humor (yes, I’m talking about the good old fist in the mouth) but don’t mistake this for stupidity or naivety. He was extremely knowledgeable about politics and current events. He could debate and wasn’t intimidated to call out anyone on their bullshit. He had the ear of Matsudaira Katamori and even the shogun at one point.

- He was a born leader with magnetism who was capable of inspiring and commanding the respect of those around him. The first members of the Shinsengumi had sworn loyalty to him as their teacher at the Shieikan and stayed at his side for most of the war. Even after Nagakura split from the group much later citing disapproval of Kondo and Hijikata’s “egos”, he went on to build a grave to honor them.

- Speaking of Hijikata, a lot of media today portrays him as the main decision maker with Kondo as some frivolous figurehead who doesn’t know left from right. Pshhh, no. If Hijikata somehow could know his popularity succeeds Kondo’s in this age, I wager he’d be ridiculously upset. Kondo lived to serve and protect the shogunate as Hijikata lived to serve and protect Kondo. He was instrumental in forming the Shinsengumi and absolutely had say in many things, but that didn’t make Kondo irrelevant or incompetent.

- Kondo was a warrior. He killed his enemies, and a lot of them. I can sit here and romanticize about how he was a nerd as a kid who loved reading or how he practiced calligraphy at night in Kyoto, but it can’t be forgotten that he was a soldier fighting a war. He’d seen some shit. He’d done some shit.

- Let’s talk about the Roshigumi! Hundreds of ronin were rounded up in the east by Kiyokawa Hachiro. They would march to Kyoto to stop anti-Tokugawa forces (lookin at u, Choshu) in their tracks. Upon arriving in the west though, Kiyokawa was like “lmao jk yall. we’re actually opposing Tokugawa and now we all have to walk back to the east and have a battle in Yokohama.” Kondo, ever loyal to Tokugawa, refused. He and his Shieikan men stayed behind and troublesome Serizawa did too since he had no place to go. Serizawa refused to acknowledge Kondo as the leader, so they compromised on having both of them lead. We all know what happened there, Serizawa did a lot of terrible things. Kondo had to clean up his messes and make excuses for his behavior, while trying to make a name for the Roshigumi and gain enough rep to be noticed by Matsudaira. Eventually, he did gain that attention and from there, Matsudaira went on to rely on Kondo’s expertise and his men to keep Choshu down. Like his adoption into the samurai class, this was no easy feat and I’m immensely impressed that he managed to do this.

- HE’S NOT AN OLD MAN. ffs, another thing most modern media would have us believe is that he’s a decade or more older than Hijikata. Kondo was born in November 1834. Hijikata was born in May 1835.

- He was said to be average height (around 5′4/167-ish cm iirc?) with a very athletic build from all the training.

- The last Tokugawa shogun Yoshinobu (*HISS*) and naval commander Katsu Kaishu (*DOUBLE HISS*) expected Kondo and his Shinsengumi to either die off or disband after they fled Kyoto. When he showed up with his men in the east, they didn’t know what to do with them. Katsu then ordered Kondo to change the group name from Shinsengumi to Kouyo-Chinbutai and take Kofu castle where they were severely outnumbered. Basically, he was giving them all a place to die. They’d managed to get some promises of recruits which never showed up, lost the battle, and needed to retreat. The group then settled temporarily in Nagareyama.

- Though there’s no official confirmation, he was executed for a crime he very likely didn’t commit: the assassination of Sakamoto. A member of the Mimawarigumi claimed responsibility for it years later. Sakamoto was a legend in his home of Tosa and people were understandably infuriated at his murder. Kondo was the scapegoat for it. He surrendered himself at Nagareyama to allow the remaining soldiers to escape. Hijikata wanted to surrender himself at the same time so he would die with Kondo, but Kondo insisted he keep carrying their banner and leading the group. I’m not crying, you’re crying.

- His sexuality and relationships are wide open to your interpretation. His marriage to Tsune was arranged, like many were in that time period. He had concubines in Kyoto, Miyuki being the most famous. These are broad statements I’m making here that can’t speak for every person but.... Same sex relationships (marriage/procreation) weren’t accepted because the point of that was to produce children...but same sex relations (physical and emotional connection) among men were rampant. There’s historical evidence from a letter Kondo wrote that he was perfectly aware it was going on in the Shinsengumi. Shinsengumi members went on to say Kondo and Hijikata were two halves of one whole. Again, Nagakura built them a joint grave. You decide. I already have. lmao

- Whether you romantically pair them together or not though, Kondo was the most important person in Hijikata’s life and vice versa. They had an indestructible bond, not even severed by Kondo’s execution. Hijikata fought on to clear Kondo’s name after his death.

WOW THIS GOT LONG......

The tl;dr here is, if I were writing Kondo in rp, these are the qualities I would give him: committed to living his life under bushi code (which has likely been overly romanticized compared to reality but hey), committed to serving the Tokugawa, can be friendly with his closest friends but a little colder with soldiers/others he isn’t close to, knows how to fight, knows politics, knows how to debate and hold his own. Genuinely likeable by nature, has the respect of his followers, has the respect of Matsudaira after proving himself. Has fierce loyalty from his men and even after some leave the group, they won’t let anyone drag his name. Strong-willed and stubborn on political issues he backs. Reflective and thoughtful in down time. Reliable to those who depend on him. Quiet and calculating in groups but absolutely willing to speak up when he disagrees. And never ever ever forgiving of the Satcho coup, or anyone who supports it.

#kondo isami #long post #LONGGG FREAKIN POST #historical #i just...i love him so much #kazenofuji #asks

[thebluestbluewords]

9 for the OTP questions? Choose any ship you’d like!

Thank you nonnie! Sorry for taking almost a week to get to this, hope you enjoy :)

Number 9-- Pirate AU: Who is the pirate? Who is the member of the royal family who did not sign up for this?

(There are two not-fics below-- rotten four as is my brand, and mal/audrey)

There’s two ways I could go with this:

either THIS is the Maldry rivals-to-friends-to-lovers fic, where Mal is a dashing pirate who is young and rebellious and was kicked off of her ship by her mother, who wants her to attend the young lady's academy on the mainland and educate herself in the ways of “proper” society so that they can infiltrate the rich ships better and get the reputation as the gentlewoman pirates that they deserve. Of course, in this fic Mal meets Audrey along the way, and hates her immediately. Seriously, this girl likes PINK and PRINCESSES but also NOT PRINCESSES because she is NOT INTO GIRLS and it’s INFURIATING.

“Mal,” says Evie, who is Mal’s best friend from the pirate ship who is actually delighted to be attending the princess academy and is learning new ways to hide knives in her fancy dresses every day “Babe.”

“Fuck off,” says Mal, who has known Evie since they were six and had a falling-out so dramatic that they sailed on separate ships next to each other for four years afterwards.

“You’re so gay for her.” says Evie, who is already hooking up with Mal in their free time because it’s easy and comfortable and they both enjoy it well enough. “I know that look, Mal Bertha.”

“There’s no look,” says Mal, sulking.

“Just ask her out with all of your dashing pirate charm.” Evie says. She has not stopped applying her lipgloss throughout this conversation, and it’s not as distracting as it should be for either girl.

So Mal goes out and picks up a new pair of boots with less bloodstains than her old ones, and rents a boat (renting is like stealing, except it’s only for a while. It’s practically borrowing, really, except for how Evie has drilling it into Mal’s mind after a few too many incidents with lost books that BORROWING happens when you’ve ASKED FIRST) and decides to turn on the full pirate charm

Audrey is not impressed, and does not break up with her boyfriend, Chad Charming, over this attempt at wooing. She is a princess, and in NO HECKING WAY did she sign up to be….harassed!! By a pirate no less!! Everyone knows who her mother really is, no matter if she’s here under an “education decree” from the “crown prince” for the “children” of the exiled *former* smuggler’s community by the coast.

….Mal steals a boat, and tries again. Only this time with kidnapping.

Audrey is impressed with the dedication, if nothing else. She may not like a pirate, but she can appreciate a girl who will dedicate at least six hours of her life to plotting and stealing a whole finishing vessel from the coast. And cook her a lobster dinner on it.

Mal is delighted by this turn of events. Evie is thrilled that she finally has time without her best friend where she can FINALLY decorate their room the way she wants. Audrey is reluctant at first, but eventually comes around to the idea of dating a bad girl.

….and also there’s a bit where Mal gets dumped in the water and Audrey, despite Not Signing Up For This Bull Crap, has to jump in and save her. From about two feet of water. Because Audrey was being a reasonable person and taking her shirt off so that she could get the full benefits of the sun. Make that vitamin D.

Mal is so gay that she walked off the side of the boat when it happened.

The OTHER answer is that it’s a rotten ot4 story, and Mal is an evil princess who gets sent away to live on a pirate ship for a year by her mother, who wants her to become more evil and also learn some leadership skills. The other three are the pirates who are supposed to teach her their wicked ways of stealing and drinking and cruelty.

Unfortunately for Maleficent’s plans, the shipping journey doesn’t go exactly according to plan.

Mal does not fall overboard this time, but what DOES happen is that the OTHER wicked princess on board the ship is too perfect for words, and when it’s revealed that actually, Evie is the famous pirate princesa espelho and NOT another wicked boarding school member, Mal has a full blown gay crisis.

“Well YEAH,” says Jay, who is also dating essentially pirate royalty. “She’s like, basically the coolest person you’ll ever meet, aside from me. What, did you think she was one of us regular wicked school brats?”

“I don’t know what I expected,” Mal tells her pillow, which she is burying her face in during said Gay Crisis. “She’s too good to be true.”

“Nah.” Jay says, mouth full of ye olde cheetos or something. “She’s pretty lame sometimes. You should ask her about what her room looked like when she first got her own ship. All dark and gloomy.”

“WHAT” shrieks Mal, who has been working on changing her bunk to the darkest, deepest corner since she first arrived. “She THREW OUT a room that was dark AND gloomy in favor of what?”

“Better lighting for her makeup tutorials, mostly.” Jay says, not paying attention anymore. “I think she might also have a full journalism setup there too. She won’t tell me anymore, not after what happened with the caustic tar.

Mal is horrifically curious about the caustic tar now. “What was it made from,do you know?” she asks, because she’s still working on how to cohabitate with other people peacefully despite growing up running around an evil academy since she was a child.

“Nothing important,” says Jay casually, throwing a ball at the ceiling.. “She had some boards replaced, scrubbed off all the skin on her palms fixing the parts of the door she didn’t want to replace, and then made a very cool liquid version of the tar for spraying on fabric to get natural wear and tear patterns on new garments.

“Sick.” Mal says, and before she can make any other comments:

“There was the matter of the handprints though,” Jay say, still extremely fake-casually. .”they were weird, you know, because Evie had them on her back for weeks, with the tar and all, and they were definitely dainty. Almost like some girl kissed her around the neck while there was still tar on her hands.”

Mal throws a shoe at him, knocking both the ball and the boy out of the way, and shoves past to find Evie.

Because the roles are already a mess for this (I am very small and very tired place just roll with it as I am not editing this before I post) Mal runs into exactly the pirate royalty she doesn’t want to see.

“What the fuck are you doing in my room?” asks Carlos, who is basically a tiny perfect decoy in this world. His mother had a monopoly on the exotics trade for a good few years when he was a child, and would tie him to the mast and make him cry for mercy as a way of luring other ships hoping to rescue a nobleman’s child closer. It worked disturbingly well, and now at sixteen, Carlos is both a pirate elite and terrified of falling into the water.

Mal pushes past, because she is as always a little bit of an asshole, and goes off to find her OWN pirate princess to date. She doesn’t need any stupid boys who just look at her like she’s dumb when she doesn’t know an anchor form a bowline. She doesn’t need to know. She’s going to be managing her own crew eventually, and they’ll do all of the heavy lifting aspects of it all. Mal is simply going to chill out and wait for the princess to come to her.

Of course, because this is a pirate story, this is when another ship sees the school experience boat, and decides that the best experience for the young baddies to have is explosions. Lots of them.

First hand, even.

The pirates (Evie and Jay and Carlos included) get to stations.

Mal, confused and distressed by this turn of events, is about halfway from transforming her whole shit and dealing with the dragon claw marks later, decides to wait in the hold. She is not getting paid for this experience, and it’s so beyond her ability to control what other ships do, mom.

Mal might have a few mommy issues in addition to the princess issues. A balance there.

“Fuck” Mal says, instead of dictating a letter to her mother like she should when entering a potentially life-threatening situation. “Now I’m never going to be able to talk to her.”

Mal does not die, Evie does not die, neither of them actually manage to steal anything in this story except for each other’s hearts, and then they talk at length about their feelings and how they should become a mean fighting team.

The next pirate raid (intentional), they’re ready. They’ve practiced all of their cool two-person moves together, and they’re ready for this.

Two minutes into the battle, Jay gets taken by the unwitting second team and disappears. Mal, predictably, flips her shit when this happens.

Aaaaand now it is late and I’ve written up enough of a piece of a fic I won’t write for this hour. Hope you enjoyed one or both of these ideas, nonny.

(the second one ends with Evie and Carlos dragging Mal along on an adventure to get Jay back, where Mal learns how not to be useless on a ship anymore and she and Evie bond as people and they keep Carlos and Mal in turns from having a nervous breakdown as they get their boyfriend/BFF back and then they all realize that ACTUALLY they work best as a foursome and do that)

#my fic #descendants fanfiction #disney descendants #mal bertha #maldry #malvie #rotten four #I'm just....writing all over the place tonight #I did not proofread this and I did almost fall asleep writing it hope it doesn;t show