#Fell Star COG

[anxietytwist]

𝐁𝐞́𝐥𝐚

“𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐲”

𝗦𝗘𝗫​‣ Intersex 𝗚𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗘𝗥‣ N̴͎̙̈́o̴͕̊n̴̦̆b̶̰̄̄i̶̧̿̌n̷͓͍̈ḁ̴̄r̴̪͒́y̶̙̆̀ 𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗡𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗦‣ They/Them 𝗢𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡‣ Just 𝟷 dude . . . 𝗠𝗔𝗚𝗜𝗖 𝗗𝗢𝗠𝗔𝗜𝗡‣ Blood

💚𝐀𝐬𝐨𝐥

•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•

↓𝑽𝑬𝑹𝒀 𝑳𝑶𝑵𝑮 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒇𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒖𝒕↓

•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•

⟪Info on Forms⟫

◈ In 𝗠𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗹 form they're often seen with their 𝟹 eyes, 𝟺 arms (𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯), & tail visible. They have 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘸𝘦𝘥 𝘯𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘴 & 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘱 𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘩. Their body type is 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘦. ~ 𝟕' tall

◈ While in ��𝗮𝗿𝗯𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿 form they wear 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴/𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴/𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘵𝘴/𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘴 instead of “traditional” clothing (very similar in appearance/aesthetic to the “Annihilation” movie 🅧 🅧 🅧 ).

【Their 𝟹 eyes/tail/horns/wings/𝟺 arms are visible; their legs become digitigrade with 𝘱𝘢𝘭𝘮-𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 “feet”, & their teeth become double rowed. | Their pupils become slits & their sclera turns dark. | Their spine/joints grow sharp bony protrusions. | Their hair grows, flowing around them like a cloak. | And their hands/feet turn black with dark veins branching out/upwards; their claws change becoming more like 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘴.】 ~ 𝟏𝟒' tall

◈ The best way to describe their 𝗔𝗯𝘆𝘀𝘀𝗮𝗹 form is “𝘈 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦”.

【Their 𝟹 eyes/tail/horns/𝟺 arms are visible & their lower body becomes a 𝘩𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘥𝘢𝘭 & 𝘵𝘢𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘤 in formation. | Their neck becomes 𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥, & the inside of their mouth/throat changes vaguely resembling that of a 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘴𝘦𝘢 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘭𝘦, & their tongue grows barbs like a 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘴𝘦. | Their hair transitions into a mane extending down their neck. | Their mask becomes an organic part of them that can be “𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬/𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥” when showing their true face. | And their body grows plants formed like armoured scales, feathers as sharp as quills, soft fur-like moss, & whip-like tendrils.】 ~ 𝟒𝟐' tall

𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘: ALL forms have double-jointed limbs, no visible outer ears, are able to move/rotate their head like an owl, & have velvet on their horns

●┈•┈●┈•┈●

𝗤𝘂𝗼𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗲𝘅𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗺𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀➔

“𝘔𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘥. 𝘍𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘺, 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 & 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵.” “𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘭 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘢𝘭, 𝘢𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘱𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵. 𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘭𝘺 & 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘱 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘥𝘦.” “𝘔𝘺 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘫𝘢𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘢𝘭𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘴, 𝘦𝘯𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘴.”

•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•

⟪Modern Fashion⟫

𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙙𝙖𝙮

Dark academia in aesthetic. Light armour & a long hooded cloak for 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐚𝐧 to hide under. Always paired with their mask.

𝙁𝙤𝙧𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙚𝙖𝙧

Ornate & dark robes/jumpsuits/gowns with golden embellishments. Again paired with their mask.

𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙠

“Baroque” style (with wispy shadows obscuring their eyes)

𝙃𝙖𝙞𝙧

Their 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘵-𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘩 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 is often restrained in some form of braid (with plant life growing throughout)

•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•

⟪Final Notes⟫

◈ They keep their top eye closed (but their mask does have a hole for when they DO decide to open it)

◈ Whenever crying their tears are always 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 (just like their blood)

◈ After the heartbreak of burying too many of their mortal “companions”, they slowly began to emotionally distance themselves (& while they DID still “care” for their followers they NEVER truly allowed themself to ever get that close again ... for fear that another loss may finally break them)

◈ They often absent-mindedly scratch at the scar on their chest (especially when thinking/stressed)

◈ All of their movements are like that of a dancer, graceful & fluid (even while fighting they almost float through the battlefield)

◈ They harbour no mercy for those who disregard the lives of others & even less so for those who purposefully target those who are too weak to defend themselves, especially children (no punishment is too great for them to inflict, including binding their very souls to them) ☠️

◈ During their days as a 𝗛𝗮𝗿𝗯𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿, they allowed anyone that accidentally crossed into their territory to pass through/safely be escorted out if their paths physically crossed (& those who surrendered/hesitated during the battle were allowed to leave ... so long as they apologized)

◈ Proper manners have ALWAYS been important to them, even before they were widely expected by society

◈ 𝐁𝐞́𝐥𝐚 abhors cursing, they prefer to express their upset with more “creative” but “polite” language

◈ Before their “death” they were extremely bored/apathetic, little did they know all they really needed was a child to care for (& a cute man who CAN absolutely wreck them) 🥰

◈ Because of their boredom they spent A LOT of their time trying out different hobbies (+ some parental experience when they were “raising” 𝐋𝐮̈𝐫𝐢), though none ever gave them the lasting oomph they were craving (at least they know how to do lots of cool/useful things now ...)

◈ Before they died they kissed 𝐀𝐬𝐨𝐥, they had meant it as a thank you at the time (it ended up being MUCH more than that ... especially since it was both of their 𝟷ˢᵗ kisses EVER) 😳

◈ They despise the 𝗢𝗿𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗼𝗳 𝗦𝗼𝗹𝗮𝗱𝗻𝗶𝘁 (primarily because of their hypocrisy & refusal to just leave them alone) & during their last fight they felt nothing but hatred, though by the time of their defeat, they surprisingly felt some genuine respect (towards 𝐀𝐬𝐨𝐥 at least ... fuck the rest of them)

◈ During their escape they ate 𝐀𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐬' arm 💪😋

◈ They really loved their 𝘣𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴 & 𝐋𝐮̈𝐫𝐢, they miss all their babies dearly (though they do get to see him again at least)

◈ 𝐁𝐞́𝐥𝐚 is horribly touch-starved; primarily because they've been without companionship for so long that contact began to always = combat, but now that they've experienced gentle touches again they're really greedy 🥺

◈ Just like with touch, 𝐁𝐞́𝐥𝐚 has missed simply spending time with people they “like” (they're like a cat that follows you around because they just want to be in the same room as you ...)

◈ They're a huge romantic at heart ... a “guilty pleasure” of theirs is reading trashy romance novels (+ love showering 𝐀𝐬𝐨𝐥 with sappy romantic gestures once they're together ... especially if it flusters him) 😘

◈ ...

●┈•┈●┈•┈●

𝗚𝗿𝗶𝗺𝗼𝗶𝗿𝗲: “𝘈𝘯 𝘦𝘺𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘦, 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦-𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴/𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘵.” 🅧

•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•

𝐼𝐹: @justpked

•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•

Picrew used:

[bohemianblasphemy]

MGG prompt. 🥺 Reid’s favorite holiday is Halloween and he’s disappointed when his plans fall through for the evening so you invite him to hand out candy at your house, and once he arrives he’s very into your Halloween costume, and you end up not passing out any candy. 😉😉

I love me some Spencer Reid 🥺✨ spooky smut coming your way!!

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Contains: Unprotected sex, Spencer fucking you in your costume, Reader receiving oral, fishnet ripping… fun stuff!

“What do you mean you’re not doing Halloween this year?” You were shocked, leaning over Spencer’s desk as he was sitting in his chair.

“My plans fell through… so it’s just sit in my apartment and watch some horror movies that night.” Spencer shrugged, but you could see the disappointment behind his expression. He LOVED Halloween- come October and it was the only thing he’d talk about. You hated seeing him sad, especially during his favourite time of the year.

“Hey, I have an idea.” You said, the cogs in your head turning.

“Come over to mine… we can dress up and hand out candy, watch some scary movies. I don’t want you to be alone…” you said softly, hoping that he would take you up on your offer.

Spencer’s eyes had a spark of excitement from your offer- not only because of Halloween but also because he could spend time with you.

“Y-yeah! I’d like that a lot…” he gave you that goofy smile he always gave when he was excited, making your heart flutter at the sight.

“Great! I’ll um… text you the address, you gotta wear a costume though… or you’re not being let in.” You teased, making him fidget in his seat.

“Oh I will be, don’t you worry.”

- - -

The few days to Halloween rolled by as Spencer and yourself had finalised your plans for that night.

You stood at your bathroom mirror, applying the final touches to your makeup - the pink and blue eyeshadow blended to perfection, bringing your elvira costume together with the tall wig and long black dress that showed off your curves perfectly.

The timing was impeccable as you heard the doorbell buzzing, your favourite boy genius had arrived on time. You eagerly made your way towards the door, opening it to see Spencer… in normal clothing.

“Spencer I told you to dress up!” You said to him, a bit of disappointment in your voice. “What do you mean? I am dressed up…” Spencer smoothed over his shirt.

“I’m an existentialist.”

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you couldn’t help but laugh. He was such a dork, but you couldn’t help but admire him for it.

“Besides, it looks like you’re the star of our Halloween night…” Spencer smiled softly, his eyes running over you as he admired your costume.

The soft blush on your cheeks was undeniable, smiling sweetly at him. “Thanks Spence… come in.” You pulled the door open wider, watching him walk inside and take in the surroundings of your home.

He saw the giant bowl of candy, meant for any trick or treaters who were to pass by the house but couldn’t help but take a piece for himself.

“Got a lot to choose from…” he smiled as he unwrapped the piece of candy, putting it in his mouth and chewing slowly.

Smiling at him, you nodded. “Whoever comes to the door is gonna have a hard time choosing…”

There was undoubtedly tension between you both, you had no problems speaking when you were at work together but now? The air was just full of unspoken feelings and longing…

“Uhm… i have some movies that we can watch, if you’re wanting to watch something…” you turned around, trying to break the silence that surrounded you both.

“I have Halloween, The Lost Boys, Scream, The Thing- take your pick.” You handed him the DVDS that you had in your hand, he takes them and momentarily grazes his fingers on yours, making the flush on your cheeks burn brighter as you watch him go through the selection of movies.

“The Lost Boys first?” He grinned, seeing the smile on your face.

“My favourite… yes let’s do it.”

The doorbell rang, hearing a muffled “trick or treat!” From behind the wood.

“I’ll get the door… you pop the movie in yeah?” You looked to him as you grabbed the candy bowl.

“Yeah of course.” He looked as you turned around, admiring the way that you looked in your costume as you answered the door to the trick or treaters.

In that time you took handing out candy and closed the door, Spencer had taken a seat on your couch ready to watch the movie, waiting for you to come sit beside him.

Upon your return, Spencer smiled up at you as you sat down. Ready to watch as he pressed play.

The movie plays, the title card with the aerial shot of the carnival in Santa Carla is in view and you focus on the screen- Spencer, trying to get avert his eyes to the screen was looking at you, he couldn’t get over how you looked in that outfit…

He felt bad for not watching the movie, but he enjoyed watching you. He could see the excitement in your eyes as the vampires on their bikes driving off through the sandy dunes and smiled softly at your reactions.

You could feel his eyes on you, knowing that he wasn’t paying attention- but you couldn’t help but love that he was watching you instead of the movie.

You turned to face him, A dash of confidence building up inside you.

“Spence?” You whispered, locking eye contact with him.

Spencer’s eyes went wide and he swallowed hard.

“I-I um…” he stuttered, not being able to look you in the eye. His nervousness settling in as he looked toward his lap.

Using your index finger you pulled his chin up, making him look at you.

“Do you like what you see Spence?” You whisper, your sweet tone sending a shiver down his spine.

Of course he did, he couldn’t keep his eyes off you in your costume.

“Yes…” he whispered, watching you move closer toward him. The gap between you both was agonisingly thin, his pupils blown with desire for you.

Leaning in further, you could feel his shallow, shaky breaths on your lips- feeling his needy desire for you buzzing off of him.

“Do you want this? Do you want me?” You said quietly, smiling at the hitch in his throat.

“Yes… god yes.” He whined, there was nothing in that moment that he wanted more than to have you… to take you.

Taking that opportunity, you moved forward and captured his lips with yours, tasting the lingering candy on his tongue.

Spencer couldn’t help the soft moan that came from within him as you kissed, his slender fingers coming up to your cheek but pausing within an inch of you.

“Can I touch you?” He asked, watching as you nodded. He pulled you into him, his other arm snaking around you and holding you closer as he kissed you once more.

Your hands reached his chest, slowly unbutton his shirt and splaying it open to reveal his torso.

“Pretty boy…” you praised him as you pulled away from his kiss; watching his chest rise and fall shakily at your touch as your fingers ghosted along his warm skin toward the button of his pants, a tent evidently filled the space in front of his zipper.

“W-wait-“ he panted, gently taking your wrist. Leaning forward he encapsulated your lips again. “I-I need to taste you, please.” Spencer’s voice was yearning.

“Hmm…” you replied, a smirk appearing on your lips. “I think that can be arranged.” Spencer watched as you stood up, extending your hand to him.

Taking your hand, he followed you down the hallway to your room. Closing the door behind you Spencer took your waist, walking you backwards to the edge of the bed and lay you down- splayed out for him as your split of your black dress bared your fishnet clad legs.

Spencer looked down at you, in awe of how beautiful he thought you looked in your outfit as he sat down on his knees by the edge of the bed.

His long fingers traced along your thighs, feeling the flimsy material of the tights. He took his bottom lip between his teeth, hands tracing further up your legs to your pelvis.

With a shaky breath, he traced lightly along the front of you- your body quivering for more.

“Can I?” He whispered, looking up at you for permission. After seeing you nod, he didn’t hesitate to dig his fingers in the tights, ripping them open to reveal what lay beneath them making you gasp.

“Spence those were my good ones…” you giggled softly. “I’ll buy you another- fuck I’ll buy you 10 pairs… they look so good.” He praised you, moving closer to where you wanted him most.

So beautiful.” Spencer was in awe as he played with the elastic of your underwear and pulling it to the side, admiring your glistening cunt.

Placing a few kisses to your thighs, he traces his lips up to your pussy- flattening his tongue against you before bringing the tip of it to your clit, swirling around the sensitive nub.

The taste of you was going to be the death of him, moaning at how good it felt- something he could never get enough of.

“Spence….” You breathed out, your hands reaching for his brown hair and pulling at them- eliciting a sudden moan from him as he continued his assault with his tongue.

Your noises filled the room, each going an octave higher as he you reached your peak, the grip on his hair getting tighter as you came hard on his lips and tongue.

Spencer looked up at you, his lips wet with your desire and his eyes filled with want.

Your eyes followed him as he stood up. Starting to fiddle with the button of his pants and letting them fall to the ground at his feet, leaving him in his briefs.

All you could do was stare- your eyes raking over his form, seeing the tent that had formed under his briefs.

He watched your eyes and smirked slightly as he toyed with the elastic, hooking his thumbs under the material and pulling them down setting himself free.

Him standing bare before you was a sight for sore eyes. “God Spencer…” you whispered, admiring him as you went to take off your costume- but he objected.

“Leave it on… please.” He pleaded. “I wanna take you like this…” he said shyly as he took a step over to you and crawled on top the sheets, hovering over you.

He looked over you, seeing you eye him from below in awe- the yearning to feel you overwhelming as he positioned himself at your entrance, teasing you with his tip.

“C-can I?” He whispered, his face coming down a few inches from you as you nodded enthusiastically. “Yes Spencer, please…”

Slowly and steadily, he started to move himself inside you- a gasp falling from his lips he moved his hips, listening and watching as your mouth fell open; the most heavenly sound that has ever hit his ears falling from your lips- calling his name and your fingers digging into his shoulders.

His thrusts became faster, more desperate. The eagerness to please you, to feel you- to make you cum the only goal on his mind.

“I-is this good? Please tell me it feels good-“ he was panting, desperate to hear you praise him. “Sp-Spence you feel so good- so good f’me…” you couldn’t help the shuddering words that came out, ecstasy building up in your core.

A small whimper rolled out of Spencer at your praise, whining as he continued rolling his hips into yours. The pressure of his orgasm was building up inside him quickly.

“I-I’m not gonna last.” He whispered, another whine following his words.

“Let go Spencer, please…”

Spencer’s thrusts became more erratic as he watched you fall over the edge- calling out his name as you came hard around him, clenching yourself around his cock.

His breathing became jagged as he felt himself twitch inside you, his orgasm hitting him like a tidal wave as his cum coated your walls.

“God you’re- you’re so beautiful, so perfect…” he watched as you glanced up at him with half lidded eyes and parted lips that had messy red lipstick all over them, basking in the after glow. His hair stuck to his temples, making you giggle as you unstuck it from his head. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted that, wanted you…” you smiled, touching his cheek gently as though he was made of glass.

Spencer leaned into your touch, his pupils blown with admiration. “Me too…”

There was a silence between you both, before he piped up once more.

“Definitely the best Halloween I’ve had.” He smiled at his own sentence, making you giggle as he lay down beside you- giving soft touches as he held you close- content with being there in that moment with you.

[papaya-twinks]

Another perv!lando with innocent!reader ask since ur in ur freak era (so real me too):

Reader telling lando that she's scared it will hurt when she does it for the first time and perv lando telling her that one way to help with that is by sleeping with his fingers (or his dick) deep in her to stretch her and she accepts bc lando could never take advantage of her right??

U don't have to do it if ur not comfortable with it xx

Warnings: dark fic, 18+, smut, cockwarming, perv!lando

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

A/N - SWND ME MORE DARK LANDO FICS PLS PLS PLS

“Lando,” you giggled as he carried you into the bedroom, laying you down on the bed. He chuckled, pressing soft, wet kisses to your neck. Your lips never left his as he moved on top of you, only breaking away so he could throw his hoodie and shirt off. You’d both gone on ‘platonic’ dates for the past three weeks together, five dates in total. Lando had told you they were platonic. He was your best friend, after all 

“Lando,” you paused, hand on his chest as he worked at removing your dress. You’d never had sex before. You wanted to, with Lando, more than anything, but you’d heard from your friends that it hurt, before. Lando had told you it would be cool, and, like, the ultimate show of your friendship. “Hmm?” he hummed, seeing the seriousness in your eyes as you looked to him. “Is it gonna hurt?” you asked, a frown creased across his face. 

“What, sex?” he raised a brow, looking at you under him. He wanted nothing more than to just rip your dress off and fuck you til you saw stars, but it was evident you didn’t want to. For fucks’ sake. You nodded, confirming his question. “It doesn’t hurt if you stretch the girl a bit,” he shrugged. “How d’you do that?” you frowned, still a bit new to the whole sex thing.

“Well,” Lando said, an idea forming as the cogs in his brain turned quickly, “the girl needs to sleep with the guy, but he has his dick in her, so she gets used to it,”. It would be obvious to anyone but you that that was the biggest piece of bullshit ever. “Okay,” you said, somehow the sentence making sense to you. 

“So I need to sleep with you?” you repeated as he nodded. “Okay,” you said, letting him tug your dress down, leaving you in your bra and panties. “So pretty,” he mumbled, pressing his lips to your neck, before moving the duvet back on the bed. You let him lay you down on the mattress, his lips still on your neck as he slid in beside you. 

Lando wrapped his arms round your waist, lifting you onto his chest, your head on his shoulder as he watched you. “Are you gonna go in?” you asked as he tugged his joggers down. “Yep,” Lando nodded, his cock springing, hard against his abdomen. It was a risky idea, doing this, but you were oblivious, as always. 

Your gaze fell to his length beneath you, springing gassing your thigh. Fuck. That was supposed to fit? But then again, you remembered the whole reason you were with Lando right now, so he could help you. Lando watched the flicker of reluctance on your face before you relaxed. “Ready?” he asked, pumping his length a few times. 

“You’re my best friend,” he said quietly, pressing a kiss to your jaw as he pushed the head into you. You frowned, a small squeak leaving your lips as he pushed into you, sliding his length inch by inch into you, a deep groan leaving his lips. “Get comfortable,” he said, “and go to sleep,”. You nodded, closing your eyes, the unfamiliar sensation between your legs was kind of unsettling, but you forgot it. 

Lando waited, his breath slow and steady as he heard your own breaths slow down, your eyes closed as you slept, moving once or twice to adjust to his size. The next morning, you awoke, after Lando, who was holding you to his chest, your legs wrapped tightly round his waist, his cock still buried inside of you. It didn’t hurt or stretch as much as it had before, thankfully. 

“Morning,” he said, still somehow resisting the urge to just slam his hips into you. “Ready to try sex, then?”. You nodded, watching as he lifted you, still not quite pulling out. “Slept okay?” he asked, running a hand through your hair. “Yeah,” you smiled, nodding. 

“Kept me warm, you did,” he grinned, the usual banter from your friendship shining through. You giggled at his words, letting him turn you beneath him. You were doing this to, as he said, prove you were a good friend. You gasped as he moved his hips slowly, your body moving with his thrusts as he sped up, holding onto your hips. 

“Oh you’re such a good friend,” he said, his tone borderline condescending at this point as he moved to slams, your body bouncing either each movement. “Lando!” you gasped, holding onto him. This was a whole new level of pleasure for you, and you liked it. Definitely looking forward to proving your friendship more with Lando.

The knot in your stomach built up as he slammed into you, a grin on his face as he gasped. “Such a good friend,” he cooed, “my best friend,”. Those words were exactly what you wanted. The knot in your stomach unraveled as Lando’s cum shot out into thick hot ropes inside of you, your eyes squeezed shut as you held onto Lando. 

“Good girl,” Lando muttered, “such a good friend for me,”. 

[bigasswritingmagnet]

Stop. Talking.

Fandom: Girl Genius Pairing: Gil/Tarvek/Agatha Summary: Tarvek and Gil are perfectly happy sharing Agatha. They're getting along really well these days. Except...for some reason, all of a sudden, Gil just can't seem to stop insulting Tarvek. He's not even trying to do it! It's just like when he was trying to propose to Agatha-

Uh oh.

AO3 link

‘The consorts are fighting again.’

Agatha didn’t look up from the clockwork spread out on the workbench in front of her.

“They do that,” she said, distractedly.

‘In my experience, such restlessness is usually caused by particular needs going unfullfi-’

Without looking up, Agatha picked up a small death ray from a nearby stool and pointed it at a particularly pretty mosaic on the wall.

“What is my rule?” she asked, using her free to hand to rearrange the cogs.

‘My presence and opinion are unwelcome in the bedroom,’ the castle said, quickly.

“Correct,” Agatha said, and set the death ray back down.  “Don’t worry about it. Bantering is how they communicate.”

‘It seems a little one-sided for bantering…’ the castle said, uncertainly.

.

Gil’s plaintive calls fell on deaf ears as Tarvek stormed down the hallway.

“It was a compliment,” Gil insisted, hurrying after him.

“It was not,” Tarvek snapped, white-faced. “My family practically invented the art of devious, backhanded fake compliments so believe me, Holtzfӓller, when I say that that was an insult.”

Gil winced. Tarvek only made that particular nominal slip-up when he was really, really mad.

“Well, it was supposed to be a compliment!”

Travek entered his study and slammed the door shut so abruptly Gil nearly walked right into it. Gil opened the door and immediately ducked as a letter opener sliced by, directly where his ear would have been.

Gil stared in shock at the letter opener—apparently having been sharpened more than Gil felt was necessary for merely cutting paper—vibrating half-buried in the wood of the far wall.

“Were you trying to—”

Stars burst in his eyes as something heavy slammed into the back of his head.

“Ow!”

Rubbing the back of his head, Gil turned around and had just enough time to dodge volume 2 of the Encyclopedia Horrifica (which covered chanting, ominous through corn)

“Get! Out!”

“I’m trying to apologize!” Gil protested.

“No, you’re not!” Tarvek shot back. “You’re explaining to me why I shouldn’t be angry! That is not the same thing!”

“I—! Okay, fine! I’m sorry that you thought my compliment came across like an insult!”

He managed to avoid volume 3 (cosh through dzyzxs) but not volume 4, 5, or 6 (all of the letter E), which knocked him straight off his feet. Before Gil could rise, Tarvek slammed the door shut again. This time, Gil heard him lock it.

.

Agatha’s tongue stuck out in concentration as she picked up the fragile blown-glass bulb with the tips of her gloved fingers. Slowly, she lifted it up and set it in the gap between two pipes, holding it in place with one hand. With the other, she turned a dial, fraction by fraction, slowly increasing the pressure on the seal that would lock the whisper-thin—but extremely necessary—bulb into place.

Gil burst into the room with a crash of the door.

“You have to talk to Tarvek!”

Agatha didn’t even flinch.

“What did you do now?” she asked, keeping her eyes fixed on the task at hand.

“Wh-! Why do you think I did anything?” he demanded, indignantly.

“Because when he starts it, you have no problem finishing it. You only ever come to me when it’s your fault.”

“Wh-! You-! That-!” Gil sputtered.

“There!” Agatha said, as the pressure gauge clicked green. She locked the mechanism in place and stepped back, tugging off her gloves and looking at Gil.

“So. What did you do?”

“I gave him a compliment!” Gil said. “And he got mad at me!”  

Agatha gave him an I do not believe you look.

“We were talking about that big conference with the neighboring city states, and he made a couple of suggestions that were, y’know, Tarvek level sneaky.”

“Mm-hmm…”

“And I said…I don’t remember exactly what I said, but he asked me what I meant and I said we all know you’re a devious underhanded weasel, but this is the best double-crossing you’ve done since Sturmhalten’. And he—” Gil paused at the look on Agatha’s face. “What? It was a compliment! He managed to outplay the Other! That’s impressive!”

“He was also outplaying me!" 

Gil scoffed.

“Well, yeah, but I wasn’t talking about that.”

“You didn’t specify!”

“Why should I? We forgave him for that, he knows that!”

Agatha shut her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“He’s sensitive about it.”

Gil snorted.

“Yeah, no kidding.”

Agatha pointed back at the door.

“Go apologize.”

“But I didn’t do anything—!”

“You know what he’s like! He expects double meanings and power plays everywhere, all the time! You gave a compliment; he heard you trying to dig in the knife by reminding him of what he considers one of the worst things he’s ever done.”

Gil opened his mouth, outraged. Gil considered what Agatha had said. Gil closed his mouth.

“What is with you lately?” Agatha demanded. “It’s like every time I turn around you’ve said something stupid enough to make him go storming off—Gil?"

Gil had gone pale.

“Oh no,” he whispered.

“What? Gil, what is it? What’s wrong?”

Gil did not answer. He was staring into space, gazing at some unseen horror. Agatha took him by the shoulders and shook him.

“Gil!”

“It’s pathological,” he said, hoarsely. “It has to be. I thought it was just you, but no, this is, this is just what I’m like—”

“What are you talking about?” Agatha exclaimed. He lowered his head slowly to look at her, his eyes haunted and hollow.

“I’m in love with Tarvek.”

Agatha stared at him for a moment...then she put her hand to her mouth and let out a soft gasp. “Oh, it is pathological.”

“This is all my father’s fault,” he snarled, fists clenching. “All that work he put into protecting me and making me physically stronger and faster and he didn’t do anything that could save me from my own big fat mouth!” He collapsed forward, head on the workbench, arms flung over his head.

Agatha put her hands on his shoulders, patting reassuringly.

“I’m doomed,” Gil wailed.

“No, no, you’re not. Come on, Gil, you weren’t thinking about it before, but now that you know—”

“No!” Gil said, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her. “Don't you understand? Tarvek and I hated each other for years! It took dying to get us to have a civil conversation, and now—!”

He clutched at his face, his imagination dancing nightmare scenarios before his eyes.

“I’m going to ruin everything,” he moaned. “I’m going to destroy everything we’ve built. You’re going to have to choose between us. When we have dinner he’s going to ask you to ask me to pass the salt because he won’t even want to talk to me enough to–Ack!”

Agatha spritzed him with the squirt bottle again.

“Stop that!” she said.

“You stop that!” he said, blinking water out of his eyes. “What is that?”

“It’s von Zinzer’s. He uses it when I start talking about dismantling the town for parts. Now listen to me.” She set the bottle down firmly and put her hands on her hips. “You are not going to ruin everything. You managed it with me, you can manage it with him.”

“Are you joking? We had to be trapped in the castle and almost permanently die about ten different times before you could trust me! And then we had all the–" Gil waved his hands around in a gesture that quite succinctly managed to sum up the overlay, his father freezing the town, two years of Agatha being missing in time, the collapsing empire, Martellus, Paris, England, god queens, inter-dimensional disasters, exorcism engines, and Martellus again. "–everything before we could be together!"  

"You and Tarvek were mad at each other for years, and it took you two days in the castle to get over it."

"By dying!"

'If you think it might help, I could always kill you again,' the castle suggested.

Without looking away from Gil, Agatha picked up the death ray and shot out a light.

"Gil, relax. You're overthinking this. Give Tarvek time to cool off, then go to him, and tell him you love him. No big explanation, just 'I love you'. You can do that, can't you?"

"Yes," Gil said. "I can do that."

He straightened up.

"I can do that," he said, confidently. Then he sagged "No I can't."

"Gil."

"I'll just start babbling! You know me! I'll open my mouth to say it and explanations will come out! Can't you tell him for me? He likes you." 

"He likes you, too!"

"But he doesn't love me!"

Silence.

Gil swallowed hard, his eyes going overbright.

"I can't tell him," he whispered. "Not when he doesn't...and he doesn't."

Agatha sighed, softly.

"Gil..." She picked up her gloves and began whacking him with them. "Are you joking? After everything you two have been through together? Of course he loves you! That's why he doesn't stab you when you're an idiot!" 

Gil caught the gloves and pulled them out of her hand.

"You don't know that!" he insisted.

"I absolutely do! You, me, and Violetta might be the only people in the world who really know Tarvek, and I hear the way he talks about you when you're not there–" She grabbed the gloves back and punctuated her statement with three solid whacks. "So I am telling you! With confidence! That he loves you!"

She pointed at the door.

"Now go think about what you're doing to say to him. Plan it out. Give him time to cool off. And then go tell him how you feel, or so help me Gilgamesh Wulfenbach, I will tell the Jӓgers you want their help."

.

Gil waited two days. Not because it took Tarvek two days to stop being mad at Gil, but because Gil was sure his nerves would eat him alive if he waited any longer. Tarvek had stopped leaving the room when Gil walked in, and Gil would just have to hope that that would be enough.

Tarvek was in the library, flipping idly through a book on poisons and occasionally making corrections in red ink. He didn't look up when Gil cleared his throat.

"I'm busy."

"I need to talk to you."

"Write me a note."

"Would you please just—" Gil sighed. "Just hear me out?"

Tarvek, every motion extremely pointed and deliberate, set the pen aside, slid the bookmark between the pages, shut the book, and gave Gil his full attention.

Gil's palms began to sweat.

“And let me actually finish, before you start yelling at me.” Gil said, and winced internally. No, that was much too rude, now Tarvek was narrowing his eyes and bristling. Quick, quick, the speech! You practiced the speech! What was the speech?

“The reason I've been so rude lately is because you—” No, no, no, no, you are NOT starting a love confession with it's your fault I'm insulting you. “I know I’ve been acting like an idiot lately—”

He paused, expecting Tarvek to make a comment, but Tarvek just raised his eyebrows.

“The thing is,” Gil said. “The thing is, I…” He took a deep breath. “I’m—”

“You’re in love with me,” Tarvek finished for him.

Gil’s jaw dropped.

“You knew?”

Tarvek snorted.

“Of course I knew. I knew months ago. It was so obvious.”

“It wasn’t obvious to me!” Gil blustered.

“Really? You didn’t notice that you’ve been acting exactly like you used to act around Agatha?”

“Eventually!” Gil sputtered. “So all of this being mad and throwing things at me, you were just winding me up?”

“No,” Tarvek said, plainly. “You were genuinely insulting and I didn’t see any reason to let you off the hook just because I knew why it was happening.”

Gil stared at him, and Tarvek’s mouth curled up into a smirk, the cat construct that ate the mutant canary.

"And I was winding you up."

Gil stared, speechlessly. Tarvek tossed his book onto the cushion beside him and stood. 

"Actually, I was kind of hoping you'd take longer to put it together—it’s fun watching you flail around.”

“I take it back,” Gil said, flatly. “I hate you. I hate you forever and ever and ever.”

Tarvek put his hand on the back of Gil’s head, and kissed him.

It was a very, very good kiss. Gil was relieved to find he enjoyed it exactly as much as he enjoyed kissing Agatha, which had been a concern, but then Tarvek put his arm around Gil and pressed in close and opened his mouth against Gil’s and that was about it for any sort of higher brain function for Gil for the remainder of the kiss.

“Um,” Gil said, finally. “You’re. Very good at that.”

“I am,” Tarvek said, sweetly.

“I still hate you.”

“Sure you do.”

[justpked]

you’re like if edging was a person instead of concept

you arrive with an overwhelming aura

then right when it gets good

you fade into existence

I respect it so hard

Errr... Hi. I'm alive. I'm sorry for disappearing without a word. I tend to do that a lot, now that I think about it... I should really stop doing that.

So, you guys remember when I told you all I forgot my password.

I wasn't kidding. Like literally.

I forgot my password and email address to my COG account, Dashingdon account and a lot of other things. So my access to Fell Star for my Dashindon account is forever gone, but I'll make a new one with the new update. And to make things worse and to top it off about my loss of memory, my laptop finally broke down after serving its life for seven long years.

It lived a long, good life... but the only problem is that it took some files I didn't save yet, with it. Of course, fret not, Fell Star is still alive and going. I managed to get some of the stuff back, but had to adjust new scenes for the upcoming 2.1 Chapter.

It's already at 346k words, I lost 200k+ words, dammit, and I'm not done editing it yet. I told myself no action for the Gem Path, yet, here I am, sitting at my new computer I had to buy to work on this project. I least I was able to buy a computer to play some BG3-

So, er, yeah. Hi. I'm sorry for not keeping you up to date and disappearing. I'm a very forgetful person. I should really write my passwords and email addresses down on a piece of paper or something.

Thank you for your kind messages of asking if I'm okay. I'm okay. I think. I managed to break out of Covid but I was sick for two months. Like damn, my immune system is horrible. Let's hope I don't get sick again. ^^'

Christmas is coming up, huh... I might be dropping something on that special day.

Let's embrace the sins again, huh? I did promise y'all something. I should at least post something, after my time gone.

[mintmatcha]

the pursuit of silence (and all the noise along the way)

nanami kento x reader

part one: potential (and the lack there of)

CW: cisfem reader, Space AU (vaguely Star Wars. Vaguely), reader has a cybernetic limb. slow burn.

JJK AU MINORS DNI

Out Station, Hosnian System, Core Territories

When you first arrived, the station's constant thrum would keep you awake. The slow, thrusting drawl echoed through your metal cot as the craft perpetually spun, the sound of gears and cogs drilling down to the marrow of your bones to eat at the edges of your mind. Night doesn't exist in space, not in the same way it does on solid ground. There's no physical marker for rest, no sun to rise to mark another day, so everything always trudges forward, with heavy, uneven steps.

 When you were young, the visitors to your planet's surface had told you that space was eerily silent, marked only by the sound of your vessel and your own thoughts.

"Nothing like here," One man -Simmons- had promised. He had tucked himself away into your Sun Dome, waiting for the thunder to calm itself, "Nothin' like this eternal rain."

He had left later that night, leaving only stories about the Inner Rim and an uneasy feeling in your stomach.

"Don't that sound make you wanna go crazy?" he said as he headed towards his ship, "Don't you ever want silence?"

It was funny, how you had never noticed it before, the tap-tap-tap that bore down upon the plexiglass. A frog born into boiling water: you didn't know you were being cooked in it all until someone else told you this wasn't normal.

You've been chasing that silence ever since.

You thought you had found it when you joined the station. Promises of flights to places you've never heard of, adventures you could never dream of: you didn't even bother to pack a bag before jetting off and leaving the rainy planet's surface behind. There, beyond the atmosphere, it was- stretches of ringing, perfect quiet.

Then you arrived and the noises never stopped. It was nothing like the storms you had grown up with, no rhythm, no comfort. Gone was the devil you knew, traded for another nightmare of soot and gears. 

Nothing changed. Maybe you did. The hourly chimes, the rattle of cargo leaving and arriving, the sighs and snores and sex sounds of fellow pilots that shared the dorm: you learned to live with it, allowed yourself to become a part of the drum. In fact, a part of you found comfort in it, like a cosmic lullaby, rocking you to sleep as the stars spun around you.

The sudden sharp, violent clanging of metal on metal is not a part of that lullaby.

You jolt from sleep, clutching at your side for where your blaster usually is, driven only by panic. It takes a couple bleary blinks for you to gauge the scene and realize there's no threat. A pink haired rookie is smiling up at you, his cybernetic limb still clutched against the steel of your bed frame.

"Nine!" Pilot 501-G grins, "Scared ya."

"Stars and Makers, Itadori." You soften your tone, but still kick away his hand. Your own prosthetic isn't as advanced as his; while his is covered in thin synthflesh, the metal of yours is exposed, covered only by sheets, "I just fucking fell asleep."

The younger man laughs, backing away from the wall sheepishly. The glimmer in his eye is what keeps him looking young, despite the scars that cut through his lip and over the bridge of his nose. Someone is snoring a couple bunks over, practically gagging on their own spit. Every now and again, the sound stops and Itadori’s head snaps to look in that direction, concern dripping from his features. You’ll tell him later that it’s just G’hil: he’s been snoring like that for years.

"Sorry, sorry - I thought it was funny!" He better be sorry - you're the one in charge of training his ass, "But they're looking for you, so you gotta get up."

You rub the grit of sleep from your eye. "Who could possibly need me? I just fucking landed--" you check your watch- “Four hours ago.”

"One of the guys with the offices," he shrugs, "They told me you'd know where to go."

You do, unfortunately. Only one commander gives instructions to the G Group. With a groan and stiff back, you throw yourself from the bed. As you slide into your fly suit, Itadori dips his head to the floor to avoid watching you dress. In a few months, he'll lose his modesty too; it's hard to stay pure in such a confined space.

Once you're dressed, you both head into the bustling halls. The paths divert and wind, dipping into ladders for the deeper parts of the station. Itadori still gets lost most days, so he follows you as you wind your way towards the loading bay. 

"Are you going on a mission?" he asks.The recycled air is extra stuff today and you swear it tastes like the slop dining served last meal. 

"It’s an assignment," you correct, "And probably."

"Dammit." Itadori kicks at nothing, practically skipping, "They make me clean engines when you're gone."

"Good, it'll beef you up a little bit."

The boy gawks at that, squeezing his biceps to prove he doesn't need any more. You laugh and mimic him, flexing your own muscles as you walk. He flexes harder then, bicep so coiled you fear he might hurt himself. The ball of muscle is bigger than you expected, easily larger than yours, but you blow him away with a raspberry anyway.  

“Okay, okay, Shrimp.”

“Maker, please don’t call me Shrimp-- I’m afraid it’s going to stick!”

He has a point. Nicknames have a funny way of gaining traction around here. As you both wind your way into the main level, the activity picks up. More bodies are roaming the narrow halls, rushing to-- well, you aren’t quite sure. The Station is 45 levels top to bottom with a couple hundred employees on hand at all times, some of which are stationed to pilot hypermatter crafts to places that need it. Other people did a variety of boring, overly scientific sounding jobs- stuff that went immediately over your head when they explained it to you.

“Itadori, we'll fly when I get back, okay? I'll take a cruiser and a couple credits and we'll get a good dinner. Something nice." You bump your hip against him and he almost staggers into an officer. "Something fresh."

"Real Caf?" he asks, "Not the powdered stuff?"

You’re not sure ‘real’ Caf exists, but you promise him anyway.  "Sure, whatever you want."

Itadori pumps his fist in the air with a woop. He goes to continue, then pauses as his eyes flit down the hall. Staggering out of an unknown room is a familiar face, much less bruised than you last saw it.

"Hello, hello," you croon, hands on your knees like you’re calling for a loth-cat, "Look who's out and about!"

"Ha, ha, very funny." Haibara hobbles on a crutch, the wood tucked under his arm's cast. His leg is set straight with chunky plaster, basically paralyzing his right side. The few people who pass clear the way around him, but a round little R2 Droid drives straight into his good leg and almost bowls him over. The round faced brunette wobbles and swears, waving it off with his good arm. 

"Do you know how hard it is to not have an arm and a leg?" he exclaims.

You and Itadori share a look, then gesture to each other's cybernetics.

"Yes."

"I know very well," you agree, "I have no sympathy. Don't steal an X-wing next time."

Haibara groans, sounding as pathetic as he looks. He’s actually a couple of years older than you, but he looks softer than Itadori in the face. “I just wanted to try it out. If they didn’t want joy riders, they shouldn’t have refueled here!”

“That’s awful logic,” you tease, clapping his shoulder. Unlike you, Haibara came into the station without any flying experience and has not proven himself to be a fast learner. Why he thought he could borrow an X-wing without the experience ending in disaster is beyond you. “Surprised they didn’t fire your ass. Thank god for unions, huh?”

He shoots you a deadpan look. 

"And I was coming here to tell you good news, Niney." Haibara leans on his crutch,  nose in the air, "But now I won’t.”

“Aww, Hai.”

“I won’t! Don’t give me those pouty lips!”

You bat your eyelashes for effect. 

“Ugh, be glad I like you,” he says so sweetly, “You-know-who is here." 

All humor immediately evaporates from your body. Both men notice and have polar opposite reactions: Haibara glows with a chaotic grin while Itadori sobers.

 "Oh, god," you whisper. A tightness has gripped your ribs. Maybe it's dread, maybe it’s panic. “The you-know-who?”

"I don't know who," Itadori interjects. 

“There’s only one you-know-who.”

"Oh, god."

"I don't know who!" Itadori says again.

Haibara throws his head back to laugh, then grimaces in pain. Good, he deserves it.

"Who's you-know-who?" Itadori stresses, looking between his two superiors. You throw a hand over your face to hide your expression, but Haibara continues.

"Niney-Nine, our fearless leader, our beloved pilot-” Haibara’s grin is consuming his whole face. If he wasn’t already stitched and taped up, you might punch him, “--has a crush."

"You have a crush? What?" Eyes snap to you, "On who?"

Crestfallen is written all over the poor kid's face, but you can only focus on your own burning cheeks. Oh, how your body has betrayed you. 

"Shut up.”

"She won't even talk to him." Haibara continues, "I try to call her over to talk to him and she shrivels up like a bug."

He brings his good arm to his chest and sticks out his tongue, then roughly mimics scurrying away in the air. Itadori’s jaw is slack, enthralled by his antics. 

“It’s nothing,” you insist, “He’s not even cute.”

It’s not nothing. Oh, you wish it was, but it’s not. You have the type of crush that makes your knees buckle and jaw ache and you haven’t even spoken to the man directly. Once, he nodded your way, just the hint of a smile on his lips, and you spent the following afternoon locked in a shower stall, shamefully jacking off to the memory.

Dread rises in your throat like bile.

"Oh, please! You're so smitten! It's crazy!” he turns back to Itadori, “She’s so smitten. Makes this dumb little face-" Haibara makes his eyes wide, “Once, she went to Coruscant to watch his speech-”

"We're leaving." You start walking, pace crisp enough that Itadori can barely follow, let alone your injured copilot, "Bye, Hai!"

"Oh, come on!" The linoleum squeaks under the rubber stopper at the end of his crutch, "I know for a fact that it'd go well if you just talked to him!"

"Goodbye!" you call back. You’re better than this. A stupid crush isn’t going to dominate your life, especially not one this unrealistic.

You click the heels of your boots against the floor with purpose, marching forward and away from that mess. 

But Itadori doesn’t have the sense to read the air. “So, who is it-?”

"Itadori," you warn.

Silence only lasts another couple of steps.

"You should ask him out," he continues, "You're really great. I know any guy would be-"

“Don’t,” you warn, a bit harsher than you really should, “Not now, Shrimp.”

As you arrive to where you need to be, a room marked ‘superior’, Itadori chews on his lip and hesitates, shuffling his feet unhappily. He’s still bright eyed and full of adventure, just like you used to be, so he must be upset about missing another ‘mission’. 

'Hey," you elbow him again, softer this time, "I'll probably just be toting cargo to the Outer Rim again. There's no reason to be sad or jealous or whatever." 

"I'm not jealous of-" Words fail him, then the rookie relents and retreats, "You're right-- have fun on your stinky old rocket."

 He waves you off, still a little down. "Still sounds better than sitting here."

You ruffle his hair. It’s unwashed and sticky enough that it stays in place when you pull away, so you wipe your palm on his shirt. Itadori steps back with fake offense, but his smile is returning.

“Sorry, shrimpy,” you say, “I’ll see you soon.”

You turn the door handle, then pause. “And take a shower, for Maker’s sake.”

.. . . . . . . . .

The office is essentially just an overlook of the bay, with ships and droids constantly twirling about. Today, no large freighters are reloading, so the space is rather barren, filled with only pilots and fuelers passing the time.  At the intercom, a tall, thin woman stands. Commanding Officer Mei Mei tilts her head with the coyest of smiles, like she's barely containing a secret. She greets you by name, a strange familiarity she holds with all pilots she deems worthy.

"Senior Pilot 333-G, reporting for duty," you say.

She wastes no time. Her eyes bore into you from behind the thick plait that covers most of her face.

"You're from a single biome storm planet, right?"

You hesitate to answer. Mei Mei is nice enough, but there's always an insidiousness behind it all, something you can’t quite put your finger on, but your gut can taste. Like the predatory bird, she perches herself against the edge of the table, primed to strike the moment you’re most vulnerable.

"I am, indeed," you admit. 

"And you've flown on your planet?"

It's where you learned, in between storms and pressure pockets, on the laps of men that promised to take you away and never did. "Many, many times."

"Good." She claps her hands together and turns back to her makeshift desk. The same papers are scattered around its top, in the same position as always, a charade that works on most. It’d probably work on you too, if you didn’t know how often she disappeared offsite. "It’s settled then. You'll be transporting our visiting senator back to his home planet."

Your heart stops for a moment. Neurons connect.

"Who?" you ask, even though you know better.

The OutStation is a part of multiple trade routes, so it isn't uncommon for senators to make appearances. Most of the time, it's to file complaints about efficiency or lost shipments (with piracy at an all time high, you can't blame them), but a certain senator seems to visit more often than others.

"That would be me.” The man in question stands up from his chair on the other side of the desk and you wonder how you didn't notice him before. Every hair on your body stands on edge as you process his presence, a Loth cat with its hackles raised. 

“This time of year, the storms can knock out the Nav and landing systems."  He adjusts his cuff link and smooths the sleeve back into place, always the picture of grace. Senator Nanami Kento, with perfectly coiffed blonde hair and chin never below parallel with the ground, adjusts his glasses and you catch his steely gaze directly. This time, there’s no hint of a smile, just a thin drawn line on his peach slice lips.

Your mouth goes dry.

It's not that you don't like the Senator. Oh. Quite the opposite.

He’s You-Know-Who.

You’re not sure where you gathered the absolute gall to develop feelings for the man. It certainly wasn’t a logical decision. The men you usually go after are in your league: other pilots passing through, engineers that can’t remember your last name, strangers who understand the game and how to play it-- it’s always people who see the Outer Rim Hick written across your face and treat you as such. You have no business falling for a man who dresses in ironed long coats, white collars that are never dirtied, with  a neck that’s never been burnt by the sun.

It doesn’t help that he’s simply attractive. Not a special kind of hot, with caveats and conditions, but genuinely, truly beautiful. It’s the kind of attractiveness that makes people kinder and life easier and you wish you were immune.

"Senator, I-" You're sweating. Your eyes won't leave where you've planted them on the floor. His boots are polished leather, so shiny you can see your warped reflection. It’s better than looking at him. "Wouldn't it be better to use an official transport? Or Haiba-- 299-G?"

Haibara grew up on the same planet as the Senator, so the two have been close since their teenage years. When Haibara left, Nanami went to work, climbing the political ladder. Their home planet used to be a bit more like yours, desolate and unknown, but in the past ten years Prixiyi has transformed into a vacation destination. The change is controversial amongst the citizens, but it undeniably has made the planet a gem in the eyes of the galaxy.

Maybe that’s what made you like him in the first place, that ability to rise. 

"There's no official transport in this sector and Haibara is currently… out of commission. I need to go home as quickly as possible and finish some work before the tourism season begins." Senator Nanami leans back, turning away to mutter over his shoulder. "Besides, I'd prefer to make it back in one piece."

Despite yourself, you blossom into a smile. Haibara doesn't have a very good track record of keeping his craft in the sky. It's a bad joke, but coming from him, it's everything.

From the corner of your eye, Mei Mei gives you a sideways glance. That immediately sobers you. Don’t forget yourself: you’re a grunt performing a job, not some schoolgirl with a crush. This isn’t some sort of fanfiction; there’s no reason to get excited.

“I just need someone with experience dealing with the hazards," The Senator reiterates. 

"I'll rise to the occasion, sir." You nod to both of the people in the room. Besides, you aren’t some rookie flyboy anymore: you, for better or worse, are considered a proper pilot. As an adult woman, you can swallow down a childhood crush for a couple hours.

Then, maybe, you can go home and masturbate about it.

“Wonderful,” Mei Mei says it in a way where you doubt she really thinks it's wonderful at all. She waits a moment, that crisp smile still pulled tight, "Well?"

There’s the moment, where your guard is down and the soft belly of your emotions is exposed. “Uh-”

“Our darling-” she stresses that word and the man in question seems stiffer, if that’s even possible- “darling Senator said as soon as possible. Start moving.”

You don't wait for any further instruction. In a bit of a scramble, you turn on your heel and leave, careful not to let the door slam. The lack of sleep is still tight in your muscles, but you push through and head towards the bay. There was no instruction of exactly where to go or what you’re flying, but that doesn’t matter.

As long as you know who is onboard, it’ll be a nightmare.

Masterlist | part two

[1eaf-me-alone]

— 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙿𝚒𝚕𝚘𝚝 —

𝙼𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚞𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝙻𝚊𝚍𝚢𝚋𝚞𝚐: 𝙵𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝙴𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

[Lyney x GN!reader ~ Collaboration with @perpetualcynicism ~ Masterlist/ introduction for the fic is here.] …Episode 1

Though it was technically an orphanage, the House of the Hearth was hardly a welcoming place.

Where there should have been laughter echoing through hallways resounded empty silence, broken by occasional clipped footsteps on cold stone. The lights were bright; it took some time to accustom oneself to the glaring white walls, which were decorated only sparsely with old oil paintings of long-dead men and women who stared down passing children’s necks. It was a place for business, for accommodation, not for living in. 

A woman clad in a white suit walked at a brisk pace down one such corridor. Her heels clicked sharply against the floor. She turned a corner into another corridor, this one longer, darker at the end. A painting, large and framed in polished dark wood, hung on the wall at the end of the corridor. It depicted a young woman of pale skin and frosted eyes. A long crimson cape draped from her shoulders; her ashen hair was pulled in an intricate rose behind her neck and fell in a curl across her collarbone; her lips were pulled tight, pursed forever in mild disapproval. The lift of her chin spoke of elegance and an air of superiority. A dark headdress was carefully composed from fine black lace and veiled her eye, its frame shaped into the tapering spines of a butterfly’s wing. 

Beneath the painting, spiralling gold lettering named its subject La Signora.

The white-clad woman pushed on one of the black diamonds hanging around the painting’s throat. The shape slotted inwards. At the same time a low click resounded from within the painting, like the inner workings of a huge clock were turning, slowly, behind its surface. A polished black screen took the diamond’s prior position. The woman pulled off one of her gloves and pressed her fifth finger to the screen. A moment passed before the device retracted back into the painting. A pinprick of cold blue light flashed in the painting’s veiled eye: the woman stepped back and waited as the light travelled up and down her face. A mechanical voice spoke out, Authentication process successful. Welcome, Arlecchino.

The painting began to rearrange itself like a puzzle. The surface shifted in small blocks and pulled backwards to reveal a doorway. All the while, the quiet whirring of cogs sounded in the background. The sound fell silent; Arlecchino stepped into the passage, and the painting closed behind her. 

For a moment, she was in darkness. Then, one by one, a row of red lights flashed on to dimly light the path into the gaping mouth of a cavern, bloody stars glimmering in the Abyss. Behind her, from where she’d entered, stood another painting of the same woman; but unlike the cold composure of its counterpart, this La Signora was clothed in a dress of scarlet flame, and her headdress was like the antennae of a moth who longs for the firelight. Her eyes, although hidden behind the headdress, seemed to burn like hot coals on the back of Arlecchino’s neck. 

Arlecchino clenched her jaw and walked on. In the centre of the cavern, surrounded by dancing hellfire butterflies, stood a white coffin: the remains of the moth who had strayed too close. She walked to its side, traced her hand lightly along the cold stone.

“My friend,” she began, the usual harshness of her voice softening by a touch, “I will bring you back from your slumber. I swear this on the Hearth.”

On her back, behind where her heart was beating with the strength of her vow, smouldered the fiery, crimson glow of the Moth Miraculous. 

Taglist:

So far: @d-a-r-k-s-w-a-n, @lunavixia, @lumiconic, @apotatouwu, @catarinarose;

@wolfkitty42, @kaedear, @mellowberrie, @motherscrustytoenailclippings, @ishouldstopdaydreaming;

@sketcheeee, @scarifiey, @astolary, @reixcalliope, @imliquidesmooth;

@princessofenkanomiya, @haystack4854, @bananasquash, @sofa-overlord, @honey-lemonz;

@signedbyhira, @just-a-ghost-named-echo, @theday-dreamer17, @carillonkh, @karma-gisa;

@kithewanderingme, @mycatateit, @academiq, @lazy-sanns, @smexycaterpillar;

@cridtiins, @ruee-bearr, @lizzy-harper, @ladyel1x1r3l0p3r.

Comment beneath the masterlist if you want to be tagged with chapter updates. (Disclaimer: updates will be very slow!)

[aliensupersyn]

I Solved One of the Great Mysteries of the Heian Era

This reads as a sort of storybook. The pages here all describe Sukuna's rise to power as a divine force in jujutsu society, but it's scattered throughout different chapters. Here, I piece it together for your reading pleasure. I made this discovery while writing my Yuji cog analysis.

Sukuna vs. The Fujiwara Clan

Uro recounting her defeat by Sukuna's hand.

Sukuna sees himself as a divine arbiter who bestows judgement on humans, who he deems to be beings below him. As a divine figure, he condemns humans to misery by his hands. Sukuna's title as the "disgraced one/the fallen," and his talent to forgo a barrier for his domain expansion reflect his defiled divinity. Gege describes Sukuna's domain expansion as a truly divine technique, which adds even more grandeur to his role as the strongest sorcerer in history. Sukuna's undefeated reign of terror ultimately defines his status as a divine sovereign of jujutsu sorcery.

Sukuna's rule of might defines strength as a destructive force. Comparing yourself to and relying on others only makes you weak, according to Sukuna.

Sukuna figuratively acts as a curse; he will never stop spreading misery upon humanity for as long as he lives. He sees his destruction as a divine and just cause. His strength acts as proof for his righteousness.

As the symbol of the greatest force in the history of sorcery, Sukuna enforces a schism within jujutsu society. In the Heian era, and now in the modern era, Sukuna spurs the rule of might. By threatening carnage, he forces sorcerers to come and meet him in battle to test their strength and knowledge against his own. To avoid the calamity Sukuna threatens, sorcerers must either kneel to him or hope to defeat him. In the Heian era, most of the sorcerers likely chose the former after failing to succeed at the latter. After armies of sorcerers died against him, jujutsu society was forced to praise him as their divine sovereign.

This panel revealed that Uro led the Sun, Moon, and Stars squad.

Here, Kashimo reflects on Sukuna's slaughter of Uro's squad. It's also suggested that Sukuna has weathered an army of Angels. Imagine them stacking Jacob's Ladders on him. No wonder he was able to tank Yuta's with no effort.

Here, you can see the outcome of the calamitous battle that Kashimo was reflecting over in the above page. After their defeat, sorcerers began worshipping Sukuna as a God and praying to him for good fortune. His strength had earned him a divine status among the most powerful of the golden era of sorcery. You can also see that they thought of Sukuna as a monster, which resembles another member of the current cast.

The Yorozu panel reveals that Uro once led the Sun, Moon, and Stars squad that Sukuna slaughtered. The second and third pages above describe Uro's squad as powerful sorcerers who challenged Sukuna and died. Yorozu also once challenged the Fujiwara clan and they made her one of their nobles*. Uro detested the very same Fujiwara clan who apparently subjugated her.

Even in a new life, it's not Sukuna that bothers Uro, it's the Fujiwara clan for killing her.

After her squad's defeat, presumably, the leader of the Fujiwara clan used Uro as a scapegoat to appease Sukuna. Her execution would signal to Sukuna that she acted against his wishes and on her own. These events would explain why in Yorozu's reflections and flashbacks, the Fujiwara clan still remains as a supreme power. Sukuna likely accepted Uro's execution as penance for them challenging him.

Yorozu was supposed to be preparing for the harvest festival being held in Sukuna's honor. There, they would pray to him as a God; Yorozu effectively fell in love with a monstrous deity figure. Given her insect theme, there's grounds for a connection between Yorozu, Sukuna, Mothra, and Godzilla.

After he annihilated Uro's squads, Sukuna became the supreme divine sovereign of jujutsu society in the Heian era and sorcerers were forced to worship him to avoid his ire. To stress his divinity, sorcerers prayed to him for a good harvest as if he were a God. The Fujiwara clan likely executed Uro, a leader of some of the forces that challenged Sukuna, to appease their new divine sovereign. The fealty that was pledged to him likely made Sukuna extremely bored. He wished to spread misery, but his opponents had all lost the will to challenge him and instead begged and worshipped at his feet.

The choice between challenging Sukuna and worshipping him pervades even the modern era. The Jujutsu High political leaders feared Sukuna and his fingers. Even without a real body, Sukuna's cursed energy alone enforced fear and awe into jujutsu society. All sorcerers understood that his return would mean another schism; they would be required to either join him or foolishly challenge as a powerless upstart. Throughout history, sorcerers made binding vows with Kenjaku in order to one day challenge Sukuna, as Uro's squad once did. Others knew better and instead attempted to create a jujutsu society that worked to contain Sukuna in his cursed object form.

Notes:

The manga isn't very specific about what Yorozu's status was, just that she was some type of noble in the Heian capital.

Yorozu and Sukuna being Gege's Godzilla fanfiction is adorable and makes me like her so much more.

Uro's horror in these two pages suddenly make much more sense. Sukuna slaughtered all of her comrades.

Regarding the Kashimo page: I'm simply taking Kashimo's comments "to have achieved so much!" as some form of reaction to the narrator. It could be a metatextual reaction, or he could have learned about this war somehow.

Short post, but I didn't see anything else outlining this little story, so here it is.

[anemiaanemona]

Rye Catcher.

Character: Boothill.

Warnings: SFW, gn reader, reader is sick with unnamed lung disease, Boothill lore in its worse way, established relationships, angst, character drama, little man problem, guilty feeling, good ending.

Picture: Leonardo AI, Meitu.

He didn't have any news for you.

He tried to write at least a single line, but he neither had any mood nor desire to do it. His thoughts were all about vengeance and the exact way he would execute his filthy plans.

How long would you wait for him? How many winters were you ready to spend alone waiting for someone as craven as him to knock at your door? He thought of himself as a beetle, crushed by the bottom of someone's shoe: his wings were all broken and he was left laying on the ground, looking at the sky and living through a never-ending moment in which he fell asleep and woke up, fell asleep and woke up time after time…

Fell asleep and woke up…

He was thinking about you only. He knew you worried about him, and it pained every cog of his mechanical heart. He couldn't keep calm with you being so far away from him, yet he felt relieved that you couldn't see him playing the main role in the masquerade of sins he got involved into against his will. 

He was watching you through every star and moon that you could see from your planet. He was touching you with every raindrop and sun ray, taking care of you with every breeze of zephyr. He was killed by his thirst for revenge. He couldn't recall the last time he smiled. He missed the sound of your laughter – lighthearted, childish, and naive. 

His worthless, rotten, mendacious lips were blaspheming the Aeons as they let his family perish, they put him through all the horrors of loss, they left you fighting your terrible lung disease, the name of which you withheld from him. Even in his dreams he was doomed to see you hunching in stifling cough and spitting blood, your teeth and lips always painted with pinkish shade. Even in his dreams he was doomed to press the little body, that felt like a rag doll, to his chest, as if all the might he had put into his farewell hug was able to revive it. 

Hatred took its toll. The civilization was corrupted. Wolves lived with sheep, tormented, and ravaged the Planets. He tried to eliminate the evil root, but he could see it growing and prospering with every day. 

He lost his meaning of living. Greed took over officials, the Space was enraged by irrepressible hunger for treasures. They inflicted violence over others, preyed on those less fortunate. 

Did you remember how the two of you used to lay in a field of rye next to each other, engulfed in the moment of tranquility and appreciation? Did you remember how your fingers used to play with his hair, light from the mighty and torrid Sun? Oh, the laurel and the gold of his life, he didn't have any news for you. He promised to bring you white lilies once he came back home. In exchange, he wanted you to bring him joy of your recovery.

A soft smile touched his exhausted lips, and zephyr caressed his pale face. With a bouquet of white lilies in his hand, Boothill knocked at your door and heard a familiar, lovely bustle behind it. 

[machathemorrigaesystem]

SILVA TENEBRIS LOREDUMP

(MAC'S FORGEWORLD)

Silvra Tenebris was a tomb world of the Szaregon dynasty. It was awoken during the early age of the imperium, slowly awakening over time. The awakening quicking during the era indomitus when explorators of the adeptus mechanicus invaded the planet. Once on the planet, the mechanicus forces invaded and scoured the planet. During their invasion of the planet, the mechanicus forces had a rebellion led by a known heratek. During this rebellion, Techpriest scavola sided with the heratek rebellion and killed Fuastinius in on one combat. Due to the fallen leader, the mechanicus forces suffered a skishm, with Lector-Dogmatis Videx dumping all the mechanicus forces on the planet and leaving, thus leaving the new leader Scavola and the remaining forces, which includes Xenobiologis Tiresus, Subdomina Khepra, Quartermaster Rho, Prime-Hermeticon Captrix, and Magos Dominus Reditus. The focres now lead by Scavola managed to establish an alliance with the Necrons of the tombworld. 

They eventually dubbed themselves “The Court of the cog”, with Lord Szaregon and Lady Tech-aquisitor scavola as its leaders, using the mechanicus leaders to supplement the court members that fell during the original invasion. At some point, during interrogations with a void dragon C’tan shard, the shard spoke of an accession beyond flesh, even beyond Magos Dominus Reditus’s ascension. One techpriest, Madoc Fuego, decided to speak with the shard personally, and both disappeared for a long amount of time. After the period of time was done, a machine spirit calling itself Machina Furem emerged, showing a hybridization of the C’tan shard and the techpriest. The machine spirit however, also speaks of memories that was not Madoc Fuego’s, perhaps suggesting it is several techpriests and the C’tan shard. The machine spirit shown extreme interest in learning, so Szaregon and Scavola treated it as their child, and it learned all that the Court of the Cog could teach it. The machine spirit eventually figured out how to open temporary webway portals, and subsequently the Court of the Cog purged the world of the Flayed ones and the Destoryers.

However, not all would be well, as eventually  Lector-Dogmatis Videx returned with a full fleet to perform an Exterminautus on the Heratekinca of the World. The court of the cog used hybrid Necron-Mechanicus tech to create a defense system that woud assult ships with bolts of Guass, and trace the beams with Necrodermis, thus ensaring and webbing the ship. The ships were then siphoned of motive force, thus stunning them. This meant that the exterminuatus fleet were ensared and pulled onto the planet, wrecking them. Lector-Dogmatis Videx’s forces were attacked and subsequntly defeated. Lector-Dogmatis Videx was captured and brought before Lord Szaregon and Lady Scavola. They decided to punish Lector-Dogmatis Videx by stripping him of his augmentics and wiring him into a vox system. 

Some time after, a large shard of the C’tan Maldogoth emerged, and began a schism in the Court of the Cog, thus starting the War for tenebris. During the War for tenebris, forces lead by Maldrogoth began to use necron biotransferanse technology to capture and convert forces of the court of the cog to his side. Maldrogoth eventually seized the artefact of the Court of the Cog, but in a last ditch effort, the court of the cog split the artefact into 8 shards. Madrogoth seized 4 shards, and began to create a large device dubbed Maldrogoth’s Grasp, emplaced at the north pole of the planet, and connected to the core of the planet. Maldrogoth’s forces began to work on the tombs of the planet, carving strange pathways into the planet, and using scarabs and tomb spiders to carve sections of the tomb. When the carving was done, Maldrogoth used Maldrogoth’s Grasp to ensnare the star of the system, and drag it into the planet, and the purpose of Maldrogoth’s wrath was revealed; the star was ensared and forced into the planet’s core, desabilizing the planet, and the carved sections shifted, enlarging the planet and allowing every tomb to be powered by the star. The maldrogoth shard reveled in this, as it meant that it could use the newfound power to power Maldrogoth’s grasp even more. With more modifications, Maldrogoth’s grasp became even more powerful, allowing it to breech the webway and the warp, ensnaring all neabry ships and pulling them onto the surface of the planet, where tehy are scrapped for technology. The maldrogoth shard was distracted enough during the modifactations to Maldrogoth’s grasp that Prime-Hermeticon Captrix was able to assiante it by pushing it into the star core if the planet, however due to the nature of the C’tan shard, this did not kill it, but instead made it comatose. 

In current times, the Court of the cog are mostly defeated, lying hidden in inactive tomb sections, hoping that machina furem coud organize an effort to purge Maldrogoth’s forces. 

Due to the horrid atomosphere generating constant storms, and the high gravity of the enslaved star, hover technology doesnt work on Silvra tenebris, thus the mechanicus of the forge world adopted achhranid like patterns to their bodies and vehicles. It is not suggested to fly on Silvra tenebris, as the constant storms and dense atmosphere make flying difficult and dangerous. Due to the reshaping of the planet, large pillars of blackstone emerged along the coastlines and beaches of silvra tenebris, much akin to basalt pillars. 

Over the years, many factions have come to or been grounded on silva tenebris, making it a constant battleground. It is of interest to those who know about, as it holds many secrets and technologies on it. 

The factions under Machina furem regularly come to the planet to save the planet, but so far it has been to no avail. The factions include the Mechancus cult of the Machinasiah, which believe machina furem to be the omnisaih, the Adeptus soroitus cult of the Order of the Blessed cog, which are akin to the Machinasiah cult but also are mostly fanatical electropreists, using both augments of electropreists and arcoflagelants to create electrified zealots. The chaos cult of The Lord of Technology, which worship the warp nature of Machina furem. The Tau cult of Fio’Tek-O, which have learned the lies of the Etherals and decided to side with Fio’Tek-O. 

Live doc link:

This is the setting for my Warhammer 40k DnD 5e campaign!

[lets-try-some-writing]

I don’t remember where I heard it but I remember there being a theory that Knockout used to be a seeker and something happened to him and then he became a car as result because they couldn’t save his wings. Part of his narcissistic tendencies are more a part of him in the earlier days convince himself that it’s fine he doesn’t have wings anymore. And that starscream alluded to them now having the means to get back his wings on the nemese when he asked why knockout was a car.

Idk.

I like the theory though.

I would like to hear your take on it when you have the chance.

I've heard this same theory. I personally don't subscribe to it, but I like it all the same. I will gladly expand upon this little idea, at least a bit.

Clipped Wings

Knockout was originally a helicopter unit, search and rescue to be exact. He enjoyed his function, had no issues with it, and loved flaunting his wings whenever possible. He took great pride in the fact that he was capable of flight, of course it also helped the fliers were held in high esteem, but even so.

Most of his youth was spent gallivanting about, only learning medicine because it was better than being drafted into the army. He had no desire to have a machine gun strapped to his frame, it would ruin his whole aesthetic. And so he took to learning cosmetology and frame reconstruction as his primary fields of interest. And while he didn't know it at the time, it would come in handy later.

Once the war began, Knockout needed to choose sides. And so not having a ton of hope or trust in the Autobots, he joined with the Decepticons. He was immediately drafted as a field medic, a task he didn't enjoy but knew to be necessary if he wanted to climb the ranks and land in a more cushy position. And so he worked hard, flying out into the battlefield and tending to the injured Decepticons he stumbled across as best as he could. However war was brutal and a stay Autobot missile shot Knockout down during a mission. Medics were able to save him, but his wings were completely decimated and his alt-mode made effectively useless. In one fell swoop the thing be prided himself in most was stripped away from him before he could even come to terms with it.

He was shunned after the loss of his wings, his personality being too intolerable and his previous snark coming back to bite him as the Decepticon troops never left him alone. Unable to fly he became an easy target, one that guards looking to pick a fight relentlessly abused. Knockout tolerated it, spending every waking moment not at work on the ground with the other medics studying to try and find a way to return himself to what he considered his 'perfect form'. It was a very dark time for him. He hated himself, his frame, and everyone around him with a passion. In the end he pioneered an alt mode change and altered his T-cog alignment to allow him to take on a ground alt just so that he wouldn't be shunned for being useless anymore.

Even after he adjusted his frame to make it so that he could be an effective Decepticon again, he never forgot the feeling of the wind and the skies. Many a dark cycle he would sit out watching the stars on some cliff or watchtower and shutter his optics just so that he could pretend the air was once again his domain. His scars ached more often than not, and transformation never felt comfortable, almost like he was walking in someone else's frame. He was born for the skies, not the earth. He hated that a foolish war had stripped him of his greatest gift and glory.

He felt like every optic was boring into him at every given moment, staring at the scars he had long seen fit to cover with armor and flamboyant paint. He always felt judged, berated, and useless. And so to compensate he threw himself into his least favorable personality trait to cover everything else up. It was all to protect himself, at least that is what he always muttered to himself in the dead of night. His pleasant traits were locked away where they couldn't be used against him and he played into his narcissism, using it to craft an indominable persona that none dared to tamper with.

It was his defense, his perfect wall to keep others from seeing just how deeply he had been hurt by the loss of his wings.

He hated to admit it, but part of the reason he even associated with Starscream was because the Seeker had what he did not. Starscream had his wings and he understood. Both of them hid their pains behind walls of terrible personality traits. In a way they were the same, and while never voiced, both acknowledged this.

[fiveredlights]

You'll be pleased to know I didn't stay up til 4, i just woke up at 6.30 and promptly fell back asleep for 5 hours after reading this last chapter. I've done a couple comments on ao3 now but old habits is infecting my brain so I need to come yell here too.

That website was so cool i can see why with all your coding of various elements of this fic youre switching your degree! a massive good luck for that!!

Matt and Callan have kidnapped me so I understand why you struggled so much to get them to behave. They feel so real as characters that I'm now so sad I can't read more fics about them. Mattlan is now one of my top 5 rpf ships and they don't even fulfill the Real Person requirements there. I wish them both the best in their future red bull/mercedes adventures and championship battle that in my head has to happen.

Max and Daniel are perfect in this. I love your characterisation of them both so much and I hope they have a long and happy life together where Max continues to move the dog statue even though Daniel knows its him now, and Daniel refuses to get rid of it.

Congratulations on finishing this, it'sso good.

As always, I hope your surgery recovery is going well (I have no idea what the recovery time is but completeing this so soon after surgery is such an achievement) and I can't wait to see what you do next, whenever that is.

firstly, very glad that you didn’t stay up haha. im really glad you like the website because i honestly could not sleep tuesday morning because i was laying in bed like “oh my god i hope someone got in oh my god i hope it works”…

now with the website out i've already got cogs turning to try and keep doing these interactive pieces of media because they're my favourite thing. especially because i think it works so well with the social media format. but it's also like i think i've already hit my peak, i legitimately do not know what else i can do that is in my current scope.

matthew and callan. who knew when i went on name generator dot org dot uk that this is where they would be? not me! (also i do find it slightly funny that out of the three main original characters two of them are variations of each other. matthew. matteo. didn't really realise until the last chapter. maybe i'll throw in a mattia to complete the trifecta.)

you made me laugh out loud when you said "Mattlan is now one of my top 5 rpf ships and they don't even fulfill the Real Person requirements there." because this is exactly how i feel. it's maxiel. then mattlan. and they truly only exist in my mind. and it's little bit scary that i'm like the canonical source for it, i'm the one holding the sword. but in true matthew and callan fashion i'm so confident in their abilities to just show up in places they're not meant to be in (see movie star maxiel universe. they're red bull drivers there. so at least in one universe everyone got their wish for them to return to red bull together!) they'll probably annoy and haunt the fuck out of me until i write a proper story for them so i wouldn't worry about not seeing them again.

max goes to extreme lengths to move the dog statue every time daniel comes back home from a race. like daniel could be dead on his feet in desperate need of a hot shower and his own bed but he's not going to bed until he finds this damn dog.

(and thank you for the well wishes on the surgery, i can finally eat real food again so i'm much happier. i literally don't want to see soup or mashed food for like two years. you don't know what you miss until it's gone 💔)

[dewystars-of-the-valley]

Dewy Petals Farm - SDV Sebastian x Female!Farmer (SFW)

Slow burn, Fluff, Grumpy x Sunshine Trope, Sebastian/OFC

Cross-posted on AO3: Dewy Petals Farm - SDV Sebastian x Female!Farmer

Summary:

The new farmer is weird, like really weird. They find random shit in the dirt, will pull a diamond from a fish's mouth, and can make Sebastian blush. Sebastian doesn't want to blush! 

Everyone around Pelican Town is falling for our sweet farmer, but no one in the same way Sebastian is. Or are they?

Ch. 1

It had been weeks since he had truly relaxed. Even his nightly smoke couldn't cut through all of the tension that had settled in his neck. His most recent client had worked him to the bone testing both his patience and his patience. It was some ass wipe with a rich dad who wanted to “set his start-up tech firm apart from the rest” in Zuzu City. The city of tech start-ups. The kid had every demand in the book without an ounce of understanding. 

In the past month he had missed the change of seasons, apparently, as the scent of spring new growth surrounded him. He had been ignoring everyone for weeks and had hundreds of texts from Sam and Abigail. He scrolled to the top and started scanning for anything of actual substance. As usual, there wasn't.

---

Sucks ur clients such a dick

Abs is shunning u bc u cancelled again

U up for a game?

Sorry cant tonight

Practicing pool with the new girl

Getting pretty good

Prepare to lose biotch

---

New girl?

That was last Friday. Damn he hadn’t looked at these for a while. Come to think of it that must be what his mom had been nagging him about lately. Introducing himself probably. She always wanted him to be more social. He was just quiet, not inept. But the new farmer. What kind of person would move to Pelican Town? 

“OOF” Clang!

His neck twinged from swinging around so quickly. He rubbed it as he snuffed his cig on a nearby rock. He kept telling Maru to ask for help with that damn telescope. 

“Maru? You good?” 

“Maru?” he grew concerned the longer she didn’t answer. 

As he breached the tree line he was met with what must be the new farmer in a shadowed heap in the moonlight. She moaned as she righted herself and started picking up the objects scattered around. A shiny stone tumbled to meet Sebastian. He picked it up and tried to figure out what to say to a stranger who just fell down a hill outside your house in the middle of the night. 

“You just moved in, right?” Well that was a choice. 

She shrieked and fell back with a big rusty cog in her hand. A very frazzled face covered in dirt looked back at him. They stared silently at each other for a moment. 

“Uhhh. Yeah. Oh, thanks. And sorry. Yeah. Thanks.” She shuffled forward on her knees to take his offered shiny rock. She took a moment to cram the rusty cog and what looked like a shovel into her knapsack. Neither looked like they could fit but she somehow forced the latch closed regardless. She looked down at the shiny rock and then back at Sebastian, still standing awkwardly with his now useless hands in his pockets. 

“Do you like quartz?” She asked holding the shiny rock up. 

“Uh, its not bad. Yeah.” Really killing it with the dialogue tonight, Seb. Is exactly what Sam would say if he could see him now. Thank every star that Abi wasn't watching this. 

She held it out between them until he took it and then swung what had to be a dangerously heavy bag onto her shoulders. 

“Thanks for taking that. I had no room.” She smiled lopsidedly. “I’m Poppy, by the way.” The two stood in awkward silence for a moment. Sebastian searched for something to say. 

“So, out of all the places you could live, you chose Pelican Town?” Oh, no. “That-”

“Well, it’s my Grandpa’s farm, so…” the smile had slid away and she was looking everywhere but at him. “Sorry! I must’ve scared you with all the noise. Oh, I hope I didn’t wake up Linus.” She looked over her shoulder towards his tent. “He says someone throws rocks at his tent at night. That’s not you right? If it is, like dude, you should stick to smoking for stress relief if that's the alternative. Usually I am all for getting off the death sticks. But Linus?!” She finally looked back up at his face and at the same time seemed to realize the tangent she had been on. She froze. 

“I am so sorry, and sorry for interrupting your evening! Bye! Good night!” She turned and ran away, swaying with the force of her bag and the speed of her turn. Before Sebastian could form a word she had disappeared in the night. 

He stood still, a little confused, a little amused, and a little bit worried about his weird wild acquaintance up the hill. Who could be throwing rocks at his tent?

Masterlist

[actorsmask]

That was the moment I knew

Title from The Moment I Knew(Taylor’s Version)

Love wasn’t something new to the Fool.

Blythe saw love everywhere. They see it when watching Hook and her father interact, see it in the way Bronya and Seele look at each other when they think no one else is, see it in how the Landau siblings all banter and make jabs at each other with no real malice, see it in how Sampo admires the Silvermane Captain from afar while scouting out the city for escape routes.

They also felt love themself, just like any other person. They love Hook, finding it endearing whenever she leads around The Moles and runs up to them with stray cogs or with a fun story from a recent endeavor of hers. They love Natasha, appreciating all the times she comforted them during small hiccups and treating their wounds, for acting like a mother. They love the Landaus, for considering them as family and for being so welcoming and helping them find things to enjoy. They love Sampo, for taking them in in the first place and helping them through one of the hardest times in their life. They just loved Belobog, loved Jarilo-VI. Love wasn’t something new to them at all.

So why the hell were they currently on a rooftop in the Overworld with Sampo and freaking out about it?!

about love?!

“Well to be fair, the love you’re feelin right now is in a waaaaaay more different category than the love you feel for Belobog! Ya know, that stuff is because they’re family! This love that you feel for that Hatsu is romantic love, my dearest sibling~!”

“Shut up. I didn’t ask you, prick.”

“Oh really? Kinda seems like you did Blythey!”

“Did. Not.”

“Then why did you ask if we could talk on the rooftop with the best view of the stars, which is where we always talk about things bothering us? You even brought snacks to distract yourself!”

“I was just hungry!”

“Yeah, hungry for a distraction that is. Listen, you expect good ol’ big brother to take you in for over 6 years now and not pick up on some habits of yours?”

“... Go fuck yourself.”

Damn it, Blythe couldn’t deny that. They didn’t know what else to do about this, the last time they felt love in this kind of way, it didn’t end well for them. What were they supposed to do??? It’s not like the two of them are on steady footing right now…

”Soooo…” Sampo drawled out, twirling his dagger around with his hand as he looked at Blythe. “Who was so interesting to my usually ever reclusive—“ “How am I reclusive?” “—sibling who has never shown an ounce of interest in pursuing a romantic relationship, suddenly abandons that mindset and freaks out over it like a girl in highschool?”

“For The Laughter, you had to give me a comparison like that?” The look Blythe gave Sampo made him laugh out loud, tossing his dagger up before catching it and pointing it at them. “Sampo Koski never lies, my dear sibling! And you never answered my question, so spill it already!” He put his dagger away and leaned his chin on the palm of his hand as he waited for the other to answer.

Said other was already fidgeting with the necklace dangling around their neck, clearly hesitant to tell him who they fell for. Sign #1 it was someone that would make Sampo doubt their taste in people.

”Awfully quiet there—“ “It’s the guy I told you about a month ago. The purple hair with green eyes that I nearly killed.”

…

Blythe didn’t dare to turn their head and look at Sampo, already able to see the look he’s probably giving them right now in their head. It stayed like that for a hot minute until they turned to look at hi— Yep, he was giving them that look that said ‘really?’

The now very surprised and caught off-guard brother sighed and shook his head, staring at Blythe to gauge whether or not this was a joke, and the look on their face told him everything he needed to know about this situation.

“So you mean to tell me that you fell in love with the man that has harassed you in the past, has attempted to kill you, shot and cut you multiple times, and is currently freeloading in your apartment because he got himself injured and sick because he doesn’t even have a stable job???”

“… Well, when you put it like that…”

Sampo sighed and rubbed his hand across his face before looking back at Blythe, raising an eyebrow. “You sure this isn’t some sort of coping mechanism? Your good ol’ big brother here thought you were doing rather well inside that red head of yours!”

“And I am, don’t worry! I just… I don’t know how I fell in love. I was sitting on my couch one day and was thinking about him, I got that fluttery feeling in my stomach and how my chest squeezes tight. I get flustered every time he barely grazes my arm with his hand and—“ Blythe yelped in surprise when Sampo suddenly shoved a cookie in their mouth, making them glare at him as he shrugged and ate his own.

They rolled their eyes and ate their cookie as well, taking a sip from Sampo’s water to spite him, to which he just chuckled and ruffled their hair. This was a regular thing for the two of them to do, sit under the stars and catch up on everything that’s happened. With Sampo bullying Blythe of course, what sibling relationship would one be without banter?

“You didn’t need to shove a cookie in my mouth.” “Weeeell, you were starting to ramble! And your big brother doesn’t need to hear every detail ya know, just need the gist!” They rolled their eyes again as they playfully punched him on the shoulder, making him laugh again as he sighed and lied down, pointing a cookie at them. “So?”

“So what?”

“So what do you wanna do about this? Your feelings.”

“…”

“Knew it. You don’t know what to do, right?”

“Yeah…”

Blythe deflated like a balloon and lied down as well, staring up at the stars. The twinkling circles in the sky had been able to be seen more clearly ever since the Stellaron was sealed, so it was a much more enjoyable experience now. And it made for the perfect spot to wallow in their feelings with some good company.

“You know everything already, so you should know how complicated it is right now… Things have started to finally loose tension and I suddenly garner feelings for the man I nearly killed,”

“Both of you tried to kill each other.”

“That’s besides the point! Even if it somehow does work out, what if—?”

They stopped talking and groaned, running a hand through their hair then down their face, clearly tired of thinking. The Laughter must be doing this to them, why else would they suddenly find themself in a situation like this?

Sampo noticed how they went silent, glancing at them and seeing that distant look in their eyes, a very familiar sight to him. He sighed and sat up, looking at them.

“Because what if it turns out like your relationship with Maeve?”

“… mhm…”

Blythe looked away and turned to lie down on their side, staring down at the roof tiles and dragging their finger across the lining of them. They pretended not to notice how Sampo moved closer until he ruffled their hair again, humming softly and leaning into the comforting touch.

”I’m scared of that happening again, even if it’s been more than 5 years, I still… Is that weird of me?”

“Well, I think it’s perfectly normal to be honest with ya. With what you told me, and the state you were in when you wandered into the Tavern, I’d say it’s a wonder that you’ve already healed a lot!” Sampo pulled Blythe’s head onto his lap, leaning back on one hand as he used the other to play with their hair to give some comfort. Another habit picked up over the years.

A sigh was heard as Blythe hugged Sampo’s hand, looking down this time at the city. A lot of the lights in the buildings were off save for a few, creating a gentle ambience. ”So it isn’t dumb?” Sampo smiled and shook his head, poking their nose teasingly. “It isn’t, quite valid actually.” They sighed again, this time in relief when he said that.

The two of them remained in a comfortable silence for a while, sometimes with Blythe occasionally breaking the silence when humming a random song that came to mind. Sampo decided to ask again,

”What do you wanna do with your feelings, then?”

“…”

Blythe stayed silent again, not looking at Sampo and not moving to do so. Just when he thought they wouldn’t give him an answer, they sat up and looked him in the eye.

”I-I don’t… Know what to do. One part of me wants to try and pursue these feelings, then the other part of me is telling me to give it up. How could the two of us even date in the first place?”

“But?”

“But… The part telling me to try is louder than the other saying to give up. I don’t know why, but I just… After seeing how the two of us are getting more comfortable with each other, I…”

Sampo smiled and pulled them into a hug, ruffling their hair again before pulling away and smirking at them. “Well, good ol’ Sampo Koski will be here to support you if things go wrong! Always a spare room for you back at base.” This made Blythe hug him again, a big smile on their face.

”Thank you…”

“No problem, Blythe. Just tell me if that Hatsu guy does anything weird to ya, I’ll be sure to teach him a lesson if he does!” They laughed and nodded in agreement, even if they’d be able to defend themselves, it would be nice to have support.

Blythe doesn’t know what the upcoming months will be like. Will they be happy? Will they be sad? If they ever acted on their feelings, would Hatsu reciprocate? They don’t know at all, but they’ll laugh through it all, laugh it all away. Then when they’re alone, they can go seek solace in the arms of the family they earned.

If only they knew, that at the same time, Hatsu was in bed clutching his heart with a blushing face. Just now realizing why it felt like he was having a heart attack every time Blythe showed him the slightest bit of kindness.

I hope you enjoyed this! I don’t really know how to write Sampo, so pleaaaaase forgive me if he seems OOC

I didn’t read back on this much other than to change spelling errors, so sorry if it’s also inconsistent

But I hope you liked it! Who knows I might make another part where Hatsu is actually in it

@/4a-t5u is the Hatsu acc!

[seraph-of-sizes]

Broken Homes of Different Sizes pt4

Borrower Lyney and Lynette, Human Freminet (Slight au with borrowers existing, everything else is the same as canon)

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

Freminet stared at his knuckles where they sat pressed against the wall before him. The almost echoing noise had left him a little stunned.

There were tiny people on the other side of this thin sheet of sheetrock. Suddenly it dawned on him that his knock had probably terrified them. He had knocked on their house.

All of the myths about Borrowers he had read came rushing through his mind and immediately was followed by guilt.

Slowly, he knocked again, far softer than his locating knock. “Sorry. I-I let my curiosity get the better of me. I didn’t mean to frighten you… I-I’m going to bed. I promise not to bother you again.”

He stood for a moment in the silence before stepping away and moving the bookshelf back in place.

He debated with himself, should he try to sleep after that? What if they tried to esca- 

“No.” Freminet hissed at himself, smacking his face gently. “You’re not on a mission, they’re innocent bystanders.”

Sleep it was, if his brain was ’going under’ his mission protocols. He needed to be rested if he wanted to speak to them again… if they ever appeared to him again that is. He sighed and walked up the stairs to his bedroom, each step reminding him of the long day he was winding down from. 

Though even in the warmth of his bed he was restless, every small noise sent him reeling as his mind made up every scenario. Anxiety at being watched by someone made his attempts to sleep fail at every toss and turn. Eventually he buried his head under his covers like a little kid and fell into fitful sleep.

A soft ticking eventually woke him up, and he groaned softly, smacking his alarm clock before it had a chance to ring. He leaned up and sighed, rubbing his eyes, shaking his head, anything to get the fuzzy feeling of too little sleep out of his brain.

A moment of consideration later, since he didn’t have to report to the Hearth for a week, he headed to his hobby room. 

“Well… hm.” Freminet sighed at the slight disarray he had left everything in. The overhead light was dimmed, as to not be overwhelming while he was trying to see tiny details. With a yawn he began to organize everything back to its proper places, finally ending with a cup of caffeinated tea and a previously abandoned automaton.

He had been so excited to find his favorite set of goggles underneath a pile of spare cogs, and fired up his tig welder to continue his work on the machine in his hand. It resembled a cat, the black iron he had been given as payment for helping a child get their toy from the ocean’s depths formed its body. Its eyes were a teardrop and a star. The eyes glowed purple or gold depending on which annihilation energy it was channeling. 

After a long weld, Freminet moved his eyes away to rest them, following a shadow from the welder’s light. As his eyes adjusted, they widened.

Standing on his desk was a borrower, a different one than the one from last night. The little person was clad in red and black instead of blue and black. Plus they didn’t seem to have a tail or ears like the other one.

Suddenly Freminet remembered that he was practically hunched over his desk, probably looming over the borrower like a storybook monster. He almost threw himself back in his chair, turning his eyes back to the metal in his hands in embarrassment.

The silence stretched for an awkward moment before Freminet noticed the borrower changed their stance from one ready to bolt, to one of slight curiosity. 

“I’m repairing one of my clockwork toys.” He watched the borrower jump at the sudden conversation. “I sell them to a local toy shop as prototypes. I-I’ve always liked working with machines. Machines don’t hurt you emotionally, they don’t feel, they just follow orders.” He bit his lip to keep from letting the emotions hit him too hard from his own words.

“D-did you mean it?” The voice had a slight rasp, but sounded masculine. Then again, voice was never a smart way to determine anything, since his own voice was slightly effeminate. 

“Um…” Putting his trailing thoughts to the side, he glanced at the borrower fully, taking note of smaller details, like that tophat the borrower wore, as well as the soft gold of neuma that hung around them like an aura. “I s-suppose so? That’s really just how they’re made though. Programming isn’t my strong suit…”

The borrower stared at him, an almost incredulous look on their face. “No, I meant last night… Would you really leave us alone? You don’t seem like the type to keep us as pets. Right?”

Freminet stared blankly for a moment, trying to recall what he had said. Oh… “O-of course not!” He shook his head at the thought of trapping the two he had met so far. “Sorry- I’m… um, I meant it. I like reading fairytales and borrowers are kind of common in them… not to say you aren’t real! Just that- uh… I’m sorry if- that you have to move because of me. I’ve read how it’s usually difficult, and um, I’d feel bad if you got hurt.” 

The borrower seemed to mull over his words, and Freminet realized how much he wanted them to believe him. This was the longest he had talked to anyone outside of his missions. He was worried they would actually leave and then he would have to return to normal, as if they had been a dream.

“If you promise, on your Vision, that you will never harm me or my sister…Maybe we’ll consider staying.” Freminet swallowed as the borrower crossed his arms, completely serious. Vision Oaths were largely outdated, since most people knew how to get around the cracking ’punishment’. All it took was cutting off one’s elemental draw from the vision and the oath could be made without repercussion. Though, judging by the borrower’s expression, they didn’t know about that yet.

But Freminet didn’t do well with true lies anyways, better at spinning half-truths and embellishments. “I swear it upon my vision.” The comforting chill of Cryo wrapped around him at his oath. It was comforting, to make a promise he would be certain to keep.

“Okay.” The borrower took a deep breath, making Freminet raise an eyebrow. “I’m Lyney, my twin sister is called Lynette.”

Freminet nodded, mouthing the names to commit them to memory. He then slowly took off his goggles, straightening his hair and peering down at the borrower. Lyney. “I’m Freminet. It’s nice to meet you.”

Introductions out of the way, the two sat in silence, watching each other. The air began to grow awkward the longer the silence stretched, so much so that Freminet nearly yelped when Lyney broke it.

“So,” The borrower eyed the mechanism in Freminet’s hands. “What is it, exactly?”

Freminet smiled. “Well it’s a prototype as I said earlier. A… trial robot essentially.” He hummed, trying to think of a way to dumb it down. “Most of the small meka I make have some aspects of combat built into them, such as small scale weaponry, or in this one’s case, Arkhe compatibility.”

“Are they why you come back covered in blood?” 

Freminet froze, his eyes widening and panic gripping his heart. Oh he had not been mentally prepared for that question. “Not really…” He forced through the sudden hoarseness, ignoring how he let his emotions slip into his tone. “I don’t like to bring work home with me…”

“Mhm.” He watched as Lyney crossed his arms, expression one of contemplation. Eventually the borrower’s stance relaxed and he walked up to the mechanical cat. 

Freminet swallowed roughly, did that oath really earn the borrower’s trust that easily? He was practically close enough that if Freminet moved even slightly, he would be touching the tiny guy…man? Boy? 

Freminet frowned. “How old are you?”

The borrower turned to look up at him, an eyebrow raised at the sudden topic change. “I think in years, Lynette and I are 23.”

“Oh.” Freminet stared in shock. He was expecting maybe 20, 21 at the most. “I’m 19…”

Lyney was silent before a laugh broke the silence, the borrower practically in tears. “That’s a good one! I almost believed you!”

He could feel his face turning red. “I am, though. I wasn’t joking.”

Lyney stopped laughing, eyes widening as if he had realized something. “S-sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Freminet smiled pacifyingly. “I get that a lot during missions.”

“Your missions… are they bad?” Lyney asked, almost too quiet for him to hear.

Freminet chewed on his cheek as he mulled over his words. “Well… I think it’s nuanced. To most people, it would be considered bad, it’s certainly illegal. But,” The blonde sighed, fiddling with his machinery. “It’s for a good reason. There’s a lot of…human trafficking in Fontaine. Kidnapping, uh…people being taken from their homes and sold like objects…”

“Oh.” Lyney’s face seemed pale. “Is that- you’re killing the people that do that? Right?”

“I used to.” Freminet whispered, that was his darkest secret, the blood that stained his hands was already putrid while still moving through those monsters’ veins. “But not anymore. Father said that if I wanted change to occur I can’t get myself locked up in the Fortress of Meropide, so now I infiltrate them and break all of those that are kidnapped out, and turn in all evidence to the Marchesse Phantom.”

“I can respect that.” Lyney crossed his arms and looked up at him. “I don’t know if you remember, but we came to your house from one of your missions. It was an old human that had a bunch of girls chained to a wall behind a bookcase. Well, he had also caught Lynette, kept her in a cage as a ‘pet’.” Freminet nearly reeled back at the rage in the way the tiny man spat out the word. He remembered that mission, he had accidentally knocked over a few bookshelves in the scuffle. 

Guilt hit him as he realized his carelessness could have killed Lyney’s sister. He made a mental note to look for captured borrowers as well when on missions from now on.

“When you knocked the loud stuff over, the cage she was in was knocked into the wall, and the impact bent the metal enough that she could escape. We then found your bag and decided to get out while we had the chance.” Lyney finished. “Now that we know you’re a good person, and you’ve vowed not to harm us or keep us as pets, we’d like to be friends. I owe you my sister’s freedom after all.”

“You don’t owe me anything.” Freminet shook his head. “I’m happy to have company, I’m actually normally not good with talking to other people. Just… being my friend would be enough.”

“Lyney!” A soft hiss made the two look towards the wall paneling, and they noticed Lynette peeking out of the darkness of the walls, her ears folded back as she glanced between the two boys. “What are you doing?”

“Making a new friend.” Lyney replied cheekily. 

“Mhm.” Freminet nodded. “I’m sorry about scaring you last night, it’s nice to meet you.”

Lynette stared silently before her eyes drifted to the machine in his hands. He watched as her ears moved to face forwards again, and he nearly laughed as her hand went up to them as she stared.

“It’s a small meka I’m making, I love cats.” He explained softly, watching as the borrower’s curiosity seemed to get the better of her as she stepped out of the walls completely. Lyney grinned as he pulled his sister into a tight hug. Freminet watched as they seemed to have a conversation too quiet for him to hear, and he contentedly continued to work on the clockwork cat.

“What’s its name?”

He glanced over at Lynette who had spoken up. “Um… it doesn’t have one yet.”

“You should choose one.” Lyney chuckled and moved closer to where Freminet’s hands were, the blonde almost frozen as the tiny man clambered over his arms so he could see what Freminet was doing.

“Brother, you’re going to give him a heart attack.” Lynette sighed, and Freminet nodded in agreement, making the girl smile. “See? He agrees.”

“How are you so comfortable around me?” Freminet asked softly, his brows furrowed as he fought to understand the pyro user’s thoughts. “You practically just met me, I’m still hundreds of times your size, I’m younger than you, I just… don’t understand.”

“You made an oath on your vision.” Lyney shrugged. “And you actively save people from being stolen by others. Plus we’ve lived here for years now, we’ve kind of watched you grow up.”

Lynette sighed, glancing up at him. “What my brother is trying to say is that you remind him of another human we trusted to know about us. And he has older sibling syndrome, so he-“ 

“Lynette!” Freminet glanced at Lyney and snorted at how red his face was. 

“Okay, I think I understand.” Freminet smiled. “Thank you.”

The twins exchanged a look. Lyney grinned and Lynette nodded, the two turning to look up at Freminet. With flourishing bows, tophats to the sides. “You're welcome.”

The next few hours were mostly spent in silence, Freminet working on his meka and the twins exploring his workshop openly. He kept an eye on them, especially once they were on the floor. He had made a promise, he intended to keep it.

“And…done.” Freminet grinned as he used a spark of neuma to activate the meka cat, watching as the programming he had installed booted up. It was a protection unit, originally meant to protect homes against invaders, but Freminet had altered it a little to protect people instead, specifically the twins.

“Oh it’s moving.” Freminet blinked as he realized Lynette had scaled the desk’s leg and was pulling herself onto the table. His heart stopped as he watched her feet trying to find purchase to pull her up the rest of the way. He moved a hand to hover beneath her and froze as she slipped, her eyes widening only for a wheeze to erupt from her as she landed in his hand.

“Lynette!” Freminet looked to the ground and saw Lyney standing, looking up at him in fear. “Is she alright?!”

He nodded, lowering his hand down to Lyney, only to freeze as the young man leapt into his hand, bee-lining to his twin, uncaring that he was in Freminet’s hand.

“You got the wind knocked out of you.” Lyney shook his head as he helped Lynette lean up. “Relax, hold it… now breathe.” Lynette followed Lyney’s words and Freminet watched in awe as she flopped back onto his hand, her own over her heart.

“I fell.” He blinked as she looked up at him. “You caught me.”

“Mhm.” He nodded. “Are you okay?”

The woman glanced at Lyney, a slow blink, then back at him. “Yes. Can you… lift us up?”

Freminet’s eyes widened, but he nodded. He was aware of every movement of the twins, and he was suddenly very glad for his thick gloves. His chest was tight and he slowly pulled his hand from the floor, steadying himself so he wouldn’t fall too. After a moment that felt like an eternity, he placed his hand on the table, laying his head down to see the twins better.

“Thank you.” Lyney smiled at him as he helped Lynette off of his hand. “This is why I trust you.”

Freminet blinked before nodding, not trusting his voice as tears began to well up in his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Lynette asked, moving closer to his face. “I’m okay, you caught me. And more importantly, you let me go.”

“You almost got hurt, I- I was scared.” He found himself admitting. “Is everything that dangerous to you? If I hadn’t noticed, if I had bumped the table, you would have been really hurt!”

“Ah.” The twins exchanged a look. 

“That’s just the risk of living near humans.” Lyney explained softly. “Borrowers like us that choose to live in cities, we’re less likely to get…eaten or drown, or starve. But we have to move quickly around things, and avoid being seen. No matter where we are, yes things are dangerous if we’re not careful.”

“Lyney’s right. It wasn’t your fault, I shouldn’t have tried to climb that far without any climbing gear.” Lynette shook her head. “I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“Okay.” Freminet leaned back so he could wipe at his eyes. “Just be careful alright? We’ll have to work together on stuff so I don’t scare you or hurt you by accident. And I can build some things to make getting around easier, I mean I know how to make a grapple, since it’s similar to my dive hook…” He smiled as he pointed to the meka cat standing at attention on the table.

“And this meka is your bodyguard, it’ll make a loud noise if I get too close to you when in guard mode. It’ll also attack anything that isn’t you two. Or me.” The twins turned to look at the mechanical cat, the machine turning to them as well and making a low rumbling series of clicks, imitating a purr. Freminet grinned from pride at the mechanic working as he had intended.

“For… us?” Lyney asked in confusion. “Aren’t those meka to protect the Court?”

“Well I made this one, not the Fortress. So I get to decide who it’s for.” Freminet smiled. “But to enable any commands it does need a name.”

The twins looked at each other before Lynette smiled. “What about Rosseland, Lyney?”

“A wonderful name, Lynette!” Lyney grinned, the two laughing at some inside joke Freminet wasn’t privy to.

But, “Rosseland it is then.” He smiled as he altered the activation protocols he had installed, replacing the placeholder name [-] with [Rosseland]. “Alright, Rosseland, perform a system check.”

The meka cat stood up straight and a series of clicks came from the internals of its machinery. Eventually the noises stopped and a single meow came from the voicebox.

“Alright, looks like everything is good.” Freminet grinned as the twins looked at his machine in awe. “I’m already in its system for voice activations, so I’ll have to train it for your voices.” He hummed as he glanced at Lyney. “Lyney, we both use neuma so it’s already attuned, I’ll have you go first.”

“Alright.” Lyney stepped closer to the meka cat.

“Rosseland, lay down.” Freminet watched as the meka did as told, laying down. “Okay now say, it’s name then ‘activate voice learning neuma’.”

“Okay.” Lyney nodded. “Rosseland, activate voice learning neuma.”

“Voice Learning Activated. State your name.” Lyney and Lynette flinched at the low pitched mechanical voice.

“Lyney.” The borrower replied.

“Name registered as: Lyney. Repeat phrase: My vision is {Vision Element} and my Arkhe Alignment is Neuma.”

Lyney glanced at Freminet. “Does it mean Pyro?”

“Yes.” He nodded.

Lyney turned back to Rosseland and continued the back and forth with the questions for a minute. Eventually the meka made a series of clicks, then meowed three times. 

“Alright, you’re registered.” Freminet grinned. “That worked better than I thought it would.”

“It’s my turn now, right?” Freminet nodded as Lynette approached.

“Yes, but hold on, if you apply ousia right now, it will go into sleep mode.” Freminet gestured the twins forward. “See this thing on Rosseland’s neck? It’s a power diffuser. When you press it, any Arke energy will be dissipated. Make sure if you activate guard mode that you don’t apply the opposite Arkhe energy without pressing this button.”

The twins nodded, Lyney reaching up and pressing the button, the gold glow in Rosseland’s eyes fading back to black.

After a few minutes of getting Lynette through the voice learning questions it was done. The twins were then told a few more commands Rosseland could perform, such as retrieval, and time-telling. After they were clear on everything, Freminet felt his face burn as his stomach growled.

“Hungry?” Lyney teased, yelping as Lynette smacked his arm.

“I am actually,” Freminet ignored them. “I have some ingredients for Fish and Chips. If you want to meet me in the kitchen, I’ll be happy to get some for you two as well.” Freminet offered, slowly cleaning up his workspace. The twins nodded.

“Sounds good, we’ll be there when you have it ready.” Lyney smiled. “Thank you.”

“Thank you.” Lynette smiled, the twins walking back towards the walls, disappearing into the woodwork. 

Freminet took a deep breath and materialized his dive helmet, placing it over his head and screaming out his anxieties from all of the conversation.

[thicctails]

created this goob 1 quintillion minutes ago so I'm going to bullshit lore for him

Deimos had, at one point, been one of the most feared Cybertronians in the known universe.

A Shifter born in the deepest pits of Kaon, Deimos was a relentless, bloodthirsty bounty hunter, following in the footsteps of his older half-brother, Makeshift. His refusal to take sides, unparalleled dedication to his hunts, and his ability to mimic the form and voice of any bot he encountered made him a force to be reckoned with.

However, even the brightest stars burn out eventually, and after a mission went wrong, Deimos was left near fatally injured, and was forced to flee into unknown space. Eventually, he crash landed on Earth, and as a final act of desperation, scanned a damaged Jeep Compass and fell into a deep recharge while his body attempted to heal.

His poor choice of altmode and untreated injuries left the once awe-inspiring bot with a nearly destroyed T-Cog, trapping him in vehicle form with only the barest amount of consciousness. He rotted away in a scrapyard for many years, long forgotten by most humans.

Then, one day, a young man named Mike, who was tired of being driven around by a loud, reckless, sentient car who answered to the name Smokescreen and being badgered by equally annoying everyday objects given life, purchased him for dirt cheap, intending on fixing the vehicle up so that he could have a ride that didn't talk back when he wanted to change the radio, unaware that he'd just acquired the bitchiest, snarkiest, most headache-inducing bastard that ever smashed into our beloved blue planet.