#Four-Button Fighter

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Halloween prompts year 2 day 26

Robins look of utter rage fills Danny with adrenaline as he puts the petal to the metal to escape the stabby birds vengeance.

Danny wasn't too worried, after all the car he stole was the Batmobile and he was pretty sure Boy Wonder couldn't hurt the car without being grounded or something.

Whatever. He didn't really even plan to keep the car anyway.

He just needed a way to get them to Amity. Sam and a few other kids had gone missing after she lead a protest against the GIW over the anyi-ecto acts and thier treatment of ghosts and Tucker disappeared a few days later after he got back hacked while trying to find where they took her.

Danny wasn't stupid enough to go in as either Fenton or Ancients forbid, Phantom so he needed help. Unfortunately his track record for asking for help usually ended with him being talked over, talked down to, ridiculed, ignored, ect. So naturally he had to take things into his own hands as usual.

Thus stealing the Batmobile and doing the metaphorical equivalent or hitting a bat flavored hornets nest with a stick and hoping he doesn't die the rest of the way.

He is from the Midwest and this situation was awkward enough to activate his hospitality instincts so he offers to take music requests over the com lines (much to Red Robins bafflement). They of course have noticed a lack of Oracles involvement by this point and Danny informs them of his heavily modified Amazon fire stick and that he used it to not only knock Oracle out of the game -mostly to keep her from hacking into the batmobile and giving him a one way ticket to juvie- but also give him what was pretty much an hologram version of an instruction booklet for the fancy car hes driving.

Yeah, he doesn't know any of the bypass or security codes, but now he doesn't have to wonder that all the buttons do...and if they'll eject him.

Eventually they make it out of Gotham, the bats are miffed and tired. The sun is coming up and the fuzzy fighters break off to return to thier city.

They're likely going to use the trackers in the vehicle to find it once Danny parks so they don't end up chasing him all over the continent.

Good. All according to plan.

Except he waits a day after returning to Amity and hiding the car.

Then two.

Then four pass by without so much as a wing beat.

After five days Danny decides he can't wait anymore and goes back to Gotham to steal more bat themed items. That jet looked rather nice...

In the meantime the bats are flummoxed as to why they can't find this kid

Turns out large amounts of ecto radiation renders most tracking useless. Who knew?

Eventually Danny has a whole collection of expensive bat things and he, on the verge of a breakdown, drives back to Gotham in the GAV (bear in mind hes 14 and has no license throughout all of this) uses the GAV to kidnap Bruce Wayne. He apologizes profusely but explains the situation and that he really needs Batmans help but he seems to be refusing to get involved. So naturally he has to kidnap his sugar daddy to force his hand.

[lotusbxtch]

The Best Ride in the Galaxy (one-shot)

Pairing: Poe Dameron x f!Reader

Summary: You have a thing for Poe's flight suit. He decides to be a cocky asshole about it. Sexy shenanigans ensue. Word count: 2k

Warnings: Explicit 18+, MDNI! Mostly porn with a little plot // Established relationship, thigh riding/dry humping, vaginal fingering, swearing, name calling, use of pet names (English and Spanish), dom!Poe, brief light violence (slap to the face), Poe uses a Spanish pet name (bebita) which is probably not canon but idc it's hot, no physical description of reader besides being AFAB and being taller standing than a sitting Poe, Poe makes a corny joke, Poe being a cocky smug asshole comes with its own warning, no use of y/n

a/n: This picture of Oscar & his thick-ass thighs, and @for-a-longlongtime mentioning how Poe-coded it was, inspired this fic in its entirety. A little over 24 hours later and here it is! This is my very first posted fic, so please show it some love, send it to someone who might enjoy it, and feel free to give (constructive) feedback if you wish! If I missed any warning tags, please let me know and I'll add them in. Big big thanks to @for-a-longlongtime for beta-reading and cheering me on, it means the world to me.

You run outside as soon as you hear the X-wings land, your heart in your throat. 

It’s been 7 days, but when he left, Poe promised you it wouldn’t take more than 4 for his small band of rebel fighters to complete the covert mission. Of course he insisted on going with them; he’d been stir-crazy as of late, the endless strategy meetings and arguments amongst leadership boring him to tears. He jumped at the chance to get back into the pilot’s seat. You paced restlessly those last 3 days, imagining the absolute worst had happened to him, with no way of knowing if he was even alive.

So when you rushed out to the tarmac and spotted him climbing out of his X-wing, immense relief flooded your body, followed quickly by a potent swirl of both anger and anxiety. He spotted you, his eyes lighting up, jogging towards you with that brilliant smile.

“Hey good-lookin’,” he crooned as he approached, “didn’t miss me too much, did you?”

What he didn’t expect was for you to slap him straight across his face.

You surprised the both of you - Poe was staring back at you, open-mouthed and silent, a rare occurrence; you were staring at him, anger flashing in your eyes, your palm stinging slightly from the impact.

“Baby, I know you weren’t keen on me leaving,” Poe stammered, “but this seems a tad bit–”

“I THOUGHT YOU WERE FUCKING DEAD, YOU ASSHOLE!” you snapped at him, loudly enough for the people around you to look around for the source of the outburst. “You told me four days, Poe, and it’s now DAY FUCKING SEVEN.” You turned and started storming back to your pod, Poe on your heels.

“Bebita, I told you it was a small team,” Poe tried to explain while keeping up with you. “We hit some hiccups in the plan and had to hide out a bit longer than we thought. If I’d tried to contact you, it would have given away our position. You know how these missions go.”

You angrily punched in the access code to the door of your pod. “Yes, I know, which is exactly why as co-general you’re not supposed to be out in the field putting yourself in harm’s way.” The metal door slid open, and you walked forward, not even looking back at him. “I don’t care if you got bored playing politics, that doesn’t mean you get to go rogue and get back in the cockpit.” Slamming your hand on the button to slide the pod door closed, you finally turned to face Poe since slapping him. You let out a shaky breath as your rage subsided. Your stomach was morphing into a simmering pool of nerves and regret. 

“Look,” Poe said, “I just… getting cooped up on base listening to those talking heads was making me crazy. I miss flying and I saw the opportunity and took it.” You knew what he said was true, but it didn’t make it any easier on you. Taking a moment to compose yourself, you scanned his body for signs of injury, until you realized… he was wearing his flight suit.

Fuck. That damn flight suit always did things to you. Obviously he had to wear it for functionality’s sake, but god, it was almost like he was made to look good in them. His shoulders looked so strong and broad, and the unisex, utilitarian cut of the orange suit somehow did nothing to hide the curve of his ample, round ass, one of your favorite features of his. You felt your mouth water as you drank the sight of him in, arousal slowly kindling in your belly.

That suit was your weakness, and the cocky smile slowly dawning on his face let you know he knew, too.

“I mean,” Poe smirked,  “at least you get to see me in your favorite outfit of mine.” Walking slowly away from you to give you a clear view of his rear, he turned and sunk into the chair in your room. You followed, magnetically drawn to him while simultaneously being flustered that he caught onto your ogling. You crossed your arms and put on your best annoyed face.

“I’m sorry for slapping you, but I’m not sorry for being mad,” you said, pursing your lips and looking away. “And trying to seduce me with your stupid uniform isn’t working.”

It was, in fact, working too well. Your breathing got shallower as you tried to ignore the gentle heat filling your body from your center outwards. Poe’s smirk deepened.

“It’s a good thing you’re not a covert operative because you are the worst at lying,” he said, grabbing your thighs and coaxing you closer to him. You acquiesced, trying and failing to look irritated, the desire plain as day on your face. Poe ran his hands slowly up and down your legs from your hips to your calves. Sliding his palms back and around your ass, he squeezed and your breath hitched. You looked down and those liquid brown eyes were staring up at you, twinkling with mischief. “I know you better than that, sweet thing,” Poe teased. “You absolutely cannot pretend that me wearing this suit doesn’t make you cream your panties.”

You fought to control your traitorous body, breathing slowly through your nose as Poe lifted the hem of your shirt and planted soft kisses on your belly, right above your pants. “Fuck you, you cocky asshole,” you tried to spit viciously, but it came out sounding slightly strangled instead. This Maker-forsaken stupid man and his stupid bubble butt and this stupid suit, you thought, your fingers weaving into the curls on his head. 

Poe’s smile only turned even more predatory, like a cat playing with a mouse. “Oh, I would, baby” he whispered, nipping your torso lightly, “but I haven’t showered in days. How about this instead…”

Suddenly Poe grabbed your hips, pulling you down into his lap and forcing your knees to buckle, your legs on either side of his thick thigh. His right arm wound around your lower back, holding you in place while his left hand snaked up your neck and into your hair. He pulled you in for a slow, soft kiss, which snapped the final tether preventing you from melting for him like he knew you wanted to. You surged forward, kissing him deeply, licking into his mouth and tasting the minty aftertaste of the gum he always chews while piloting. He groans, biting your lower lip, then sliding his tongue along yours. This draws your first moans out from somewhere deep in your chest, and his eyes quickly darken when you begin grinding on his thigh.

“Oh, you like that,” Poe crooned, lips turning up into a smirk. “So fucking eager for me. So desperate to cum.”

“Fuck you, Maker-damn it,” you pant, burying your face into his neck, the smell of sweat, jet fuel, and him invading your senses. “This stupid suit is going to be the death of me.”

Poe smiles wickedly. “Why don’t you take a ride on the best pilot in the galaxy before you die, then, honey?” he purrs into your ear. You roll your eyes at his cheesy line until you feel him flex the thigh you’re straddling, creating the most delicious friction against your clothed core. You let out a breathy moan and clench your own thighs around his, starting to rock your clit against his ridge of muscle through your clothes. Slick starts dripping out of you with each roll of your hips against him. Poe moves your arms to brace on his shoulders, then slides both of his hands onto your hips to help you ride him.

The pleasure in your core starts to ratchet up, and you grind yourself harder into Poe’s thigh, throwing your head back with a moan. Poe leans to your ear, kissing and lightly licking just behind and below your earlobe, that spot he knows drives you wild. “That’s it, baby, ride it out,” he whispers into your ear. “Use all that frustration to make yourself cum on my leg.” You mewl, circling your hips and chasing your high. Your pussy contracts around nothing, and suddenly all you can think about is how much better it would feel if Poe was inside of you.

“Poe,” you whine, “I need more.” Your slick is soaking through your underwear, the smell of your arousal filling Poe’s senses. He groans, his cock painfully hard in his flight suit.

“What do you need, bebita?” he says, kissing your forehead sweetly while gripping your hips like a vice, a contrast that has you moaning wordlessly. “Tell me, and I’ll give it to you.”

“I need you,” you beg, “I need you inside of me, I need you to fuck me, please.” You can feel your clit throbbing, almost painfully. Poe moans into your neck. “Baby, I told you, you do not want me to unzip this suit,” he chuckles. “But I think I can still help. Lean back a little.” You comply, and watch with glazed eyes as Poe stares right back at you, slipping his middle and ring fingers into his mouth to get them wet. A shudder rips through your body when he slips both digits past the waistband of your pants and into your underwear. He groans loudly when he feels your slick folds.

“Fuuuuck me, baby, you’re absolutely drenched,” he breaths out. “Is this all for this dumb orange jumpsuit I’m wearing?” That cocky smirk reappears as he laughs at his own joke.

Letting out an annoyed breath, you huff, “it’s for you, idiot. You fucking drive me crazy. You’re the only one that’s ever gotten me this wet. Now fill me up before I lose my ever-loving mind.” 

Poe lets out another chuckle. “Yes, ma’am,” he quips, and then quickly slides the length of his fingers into your cunt, forcing a moan from your lungs involuntarily. He rocks you forward again so that you’re sitting directly on his fingers, with his palm cradling your pussy. “Fuck yourself on my fingers,” he commands. “Take what you need from me.”

You do exactly that, rising and falling on his thigh, swirling your hips over his soaked digits, your clit rubbing against the meat of his palm deliciously. He adds another finger, stretching you out and making you want to scream. Your hips speed up as you desperately chase your high. The wet squelching and slapping sounds of your pussy on Poe’s hand echo in the room. Poe’s panting fills your ears and your wanton moans fill his. You invade his senses in every way possible, and he can feel his dick pulse with every thrust of your hips against his thigh.

Suddenly, you start feeling the knot in your core tighten as you rocket ever-closer to your orgasm. Poe moans as he feels you clench. “Fuck, that’s it, honey, I can feel you getting close,” he whispers. “Give it to me.” His hips start lifting up, grinding, pressing his length into you as much as he can.

“Oh Maker, Poe, oh fuck,” you cry as your walls tighten. “You want me to fucking cum for you?”

“Fuuuuuuck yes baby, that’s all I want,” Poe pants. “Fucking cum all over my fingers, soak my hand, honey.”

The filth pouring out of his mouth finally snaps the knot in your stomach, and you nearly scream in ecstasy as your release shatters and blooms through your body. Poe moans your name as a rush of your slick coats his hand, and you feel him bite your shoulder as his body tenses. Sated, you slump against him, his hand still pinned under your body, both of you sticky with sweat and panting for breath. Poe uses his free hand to softly cup the side of your face, pressing kisses slowly and gently across your cheeks and nose.

You sigh as he carefully extracts his hand. Just as you peer down at him, he closes his eyes and slips his fingers into his mouth, sucking every bit of your essence off. You shudder in pleasure as you watch him. He locks eyes with you, and you lean in to kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips.

“Feeling better?” Poe asks, the warm molten brown of his eyes having returned. You sigh and giggle a little. “Yes, thank you,” you murmur quietly, “but I wish I could have made you cum too.” 

Suddenly Poe looks sheepish, something that’s a rare expression for him.

“Well, uh…” he starts, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck and averting his eyes. You pause, perplexed. He glances back at you, then down at the floor, and then back at you again. Poe clears his throat before he finally speaks.

 “I… actually did…”

You freeze silently, and then erupt into laughter. “Poe Dameron!” you screech. “The ‘best pilot in the galaxy’, commander of the Starfighter Corps, co-general of the entire fucking Resistance, fucking JIZZED in his pants like a teenager???” You start tittering uncontrollably, much to Poe’s embarrassment. “Shut the fuck up, idiot,” he grouses, which only makes you cackle even louder. He sighs, annoyed but begrudgingly satisfied.

“At least this suit needs to be washed anyway,” he mutters, mostly to himself, and you laugh so hard you start crying.

Tag list (it's here y'all!): @for-a-longlongtime @nerdieforpedro @lu62 @purelyoscar @clemdango04 @survivingandenduring @reggiesfilthylittlesecret @beezusvreeland @alltheglitterandtheroar @campingwiththecharmings @qveerthe0ry @agentjackdaniels @dizthemonster @beezusvreeland @queerponcho and anyone else who was interested!

EDIT:

Oh, you were looking for a part 2 to this one-shot? Well it’s your lucky day — Poe was being a total menace, so indeed there is now a part 2!

[simpforrooster]

a very important meeting.

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x f!Reader

summary: you're on your way to your office when you get stuck in the elevator with the most annoying naval aviator.

t/w: cursing, some sensual material ahead, getting stuck in elevators

The elevator doors open, revealing a fighter pilot inside. Your stomach drops to your feet as you take in your worst nightmare. For a split second, you consider turning around and hiking it up 8 flights of stairs, but resign and join the pilot. 

He watches you settle into the opposite corner from him. You pull out your phone, deciding to ignore him during the quick ride up to your office. 

Bradley Bradshaw clearly has other ideas. “Hey, y/n,” he taunts. 

“Hi, Chicken,” you reply, not looking up from your phone. 

“It’s Rooster,” he corrects, those brown eyes staring a hole through the side of your head. 

“It’s cute that you think I care,” you tell him, sliding your phone into your work bag. The elevator numbers climb up past two. 

Three. 

Four. 

Five. 

Six. 

The sound of the elevator stopping between floors sends a new kind of dread through your body. The elevator lurches, throwing you into Bradshaw. His strong arms wrap around your waist, steadying you. You don’t miss the way he keeps them on you a second longer than he should. 

“Is there a reason you’re blushing like that?” he asks, his voice low. 

“Other than the fact that this is my worst nightmare, nope.” 

Rooster grins. 

“You’re insufferable,” you tell him, pushing him away from you. He answers you with his annoying laugh that you secretly love. 

Rooster reaches around you and presses the emergency button. Never taking his eyes off you, he tells the attendant about the mishap. Fear overtakes you as she tells Rooster it may be a few hours until they can get the elevator working again. 

“Guess we better get comfortable,” Rooster says. He slides down to the ground and pats the spot next to him. 

“You don’t have to pretend to like me right now, Bradley,” you say, sitting opposite of him. “This is torture enough.” 

A strange look passes over his face. 

The two of you barely tolerate one another, and it’s been this way for years. You can’t pinpoint exactly what caused the tension between the two of you. You also can’t pinpoint exactly when that animosity turned more toward flirting. Or when you looked at Rooster one day and decided that he was probably the most handsome man in the Navy. 

“You’re nervous,” he murmurs. 

“I'm stuck in an elevator with you, of course I’m nervous. What if I hurt you?” you say, trying to lighten the mood. This makes his lip pull up in the corner. 

Rooster stands, coming over to where you’re sitting. “Well, I’m nervous for a whole other reason. What if I kiss you?” He takes his hand in yours and pulls you up.

“You don’t mean that,” you whisper. 

“Oh come on, y/n. I flirt with you all the time.” Rooster takes a small step toward you. 

“No, you argue with me all the time.” 

He takes another small step, and your back hits the wall. “Riling you up is my favorite pastime. You’re so hot when you’re mad.” 

Did he just call you hot? 

“Don’t get my hopes up, Roos.” From this angle, it’s hard to ignore the height difference between the two of you. 

“Ah, so you admit all this between us has been flirting?” he smirks, bracing himself against the wall, his large hand just on the outside of your head. His other hand slides around your waist. 

“I don’t know what to call it,” you whisper. 

“You can call it me wanting you,” he says. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you.” 

You don’t believe the words that are coming out of his mouth. He can’t mean them, can he? It must be the stuck-in-an-elevator-with-nothing-else-to-do talking. Those brown eyes seem to stare straight into your soul. There is nothing you want more than for him to kiss you right now. This man you’ve seemingly hated. 

But you know he’s right, all that hatred was actually flirtation. 

You’ve never seen him out with another woman. He’s never taken one home from the bar. Hell, you’re pretty sure you’ve watched him toss a phone number the second the girl turned away from him. 

At this realization, you can’t remember the last time you flirted with anyone who wasn’t the man in front of you. 

Hangman doesn’t count, he’s the resident playboy. It’s not your fault if you flirt back. 

Bradley leans in a little closer, searching your eyes for any hesitation. When he finds none, he leans in juuuust a little more. 

“Just tell me to stop,” he cautions. 

You absolutely don’t want him to. Craning your face up to take him in, he takes this as full-steam-ahead. 

As he crushes his mouth to yours, you would have been a fool to stop him. You’ve never kissed anyone like this. Kisses of urgency, longing, and honestly, breathtaking. It’s as if every other man you kissed was only practice. Bradley must feel the same way because you cannot mistake the groan that just fell from his lips. The sound buzzing against yours deliciously. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he murmurs in your ear. Bradley presses his body into yours, tightly tucking you in between him and the elevator wall. His erection presses into your lower half, and if his bedroom performance is anything like his kisses… 

Your hands slither up his chest to grip his t-shirt. He smirks against your lips before changing direction and claiming your neck. 

“You taste every bit as sweet as I thought you would,” he says. “My fantasies don’t even come close.” 

A whimper escapes your mouth before you can grab it, letting him know just what his words are doing to you. He chuckles against your neck, that mustache of his feeling exactly as you thought it would. 

He’s not the only one with fantasies. Bradley’s hands reach for the top of your jeans, pulling you to attention. 

“Bradley, there are cameras in here,” you say. There’s no way you’re having sex with Bradley for the first time in an elevator. He just ignores you, pulling your mouth back to his, offering you hungry kisses. 

“You’ve never called me that before.” He pulls back just enough for the words to leave his mouth, and then he’s back to his ministrations. “I do not care.” 

“I do, my dad probably has access to them,” you say, killing that erection immediately at the mention of your admiral father. 

“Fuck,” Bradley concedes, dropping his arms from around you. He puts as much distance between the two of you as he can, his eyes promising more to come once this elevator is fixed. 

Rooster punches the emergency button again. 

“Sir, the crew is working as hard as they can to get the elevator operational.” 

“Let them know the admiral’s daughter is also stuck in here, and she has a very important meeting to make,” he responds, never taking his eyes off of you. Bradley drops his left eye in a flirty wink, that smirk on his face as equally delicious.

masterlist.

[httpscomexe]

Fic where reader is a mutant and she’s put in a cage fight with Logan

The Leopards Claws

Summary: You’re forced into a cage fight with a familiar face, and he recognizes your spots…

(Find what I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Pairings: Logan Howlett x Hybrid!Reader

Word Count: 1411

(I might make a part two)

“You can’t cage a tiger.”

A little something of a famous saying that your ring master also says. A lot. But it always makes you laugh, since you weren’t a tiger. God he’s so stupid.

You think to yourself as you’re pushed through a crowd, two men gripping your arms, a muzzle on your face like you’re an animal, which, you basically are.

You weren’t sure what to call yourself. A human that was diagnosed with vitiligo before she was born only to find out they were leopard spots and the deformations on your tail bone and head were actually a long tail and cat ears. So yea, you could call yourself a hybrid, mutant, whatever. But you were also a cage fighter. Not by choice, of course.

“Now for the next round, people get ready for the fast, the stunning, and the tricker of a show, Batemans pet Leopard!” You’re shoved into the large cage, and you fall to all fours, your teeth bared and your claws extracted as you hissed at the men who just tossed you in.

“Shut it kitty.” You growl deep in your throat and stand pack up, fixing the small outfit they had you wearing, they wanted as much as your skin exposed as possible to show off your leopard spots, and God was it annoying. But what was more annoying was the cheering of the crowd as you looked around the arena, some of the viewers with whiskers or spots painted on their faces. It was annoying, really. You weren’t exactly an idol.

“And for the competitor!” The announcers voice bothered you the most, and you look up at him in his seat, smirking as you see the eye patch on his left eye, covering where his eye used to be before the first time you escaped the cage. Fucking dick. “The fierce, the hated, and the worst, Wolverine!” Your ears drop immediately. Wolverine? Your head snaps to turn around at the sound of the gate opening, and people toss Wolverine into the cage, he tried to turn back around, banging his fists on the metal cage yelling profanities before turning back towards you. I thought he was dead… You tell yourself, and your lips part slightly, your fangs exposing past your bottom lip as he approaches you slowly, his own claws extracting slowly while yours retract back into normal nails. You couldn’t fight him, he saved you.

“Shit!” You scream as he lunges at you with his claws, and you avoid him like a cat avoiding a fucking cucumber. “Wolv-“

“Uh oh! Looks like we have a FUCKING pussy!” The crowd breaks into laughter, and you leap up onto a high post, looking down at where he can’t reach you.

“Fuck, fuck, shit, fuck, fuck me…” You groan as he stares at you.

“Get the fuck back down here.” He growls at you. “I don’t wanna be electrocuted and I don’t think you do either.” He shouts, and the guards press the button on their taser as a warning, little sparks jumping out of the wires. The crowd going quiet as they watch.

“Come on kitty, you’re supposed to be a leopard, not a pussy!” One of the viewers yell, and you turn to him, hissing and showing your fangs, then you feel a yank on your tail before you’re pulled back down to the cold concrete ground, Wolverine is on you in less than a second, but you crawl back out, your leopard agility making you fast.

“W-“

“Shut the fuck up and fight…” He growls, swiping his claws at you again.”

“Wol-“

“Shut the fuck up!” He shouts, lunging at you and you fall to the ground, him on top, but just as his fist is about to collide with your nose…

“Logan!” You whine, covering your face with your hands, and he freezes.

“How the fuck do you know my name…?” He growls, staying quiet so the guards don’t hear.

“You’re Logan… you don’t remember me…? You- you died, how are you here? Our daughter missed you, she…-“

“Daughter…?” His claws slowly retract, and you feel his body becoming less tense.

“You don’t remember them…?”

“Hey! You’re supposed to be fighting!” One of the guard shouts, and Logan shoots them a look.

“I’m not the Logan you know…” He growls back down at you, lowering his fist.

“Please… please don’t fight me…” You watch the way his face contorts, from anger, to confusion, to some other emotion. He didn’t wanna fight you from the beginning, and he sure as hell didn’t want to now. He confirmed it as he stood up, and helped you to your feet. “They don’t have guns, just tasers…”

“I know… stay put.” He says lowly, then moves to the wall of the cage.

“Hey, what’re you-?” His hands grip the cage, his fingers gripping it with all of his strength, then he pulls it away like nothing, bending the entire cage which snaps in some spots before he tears off a section big enough for him to walk through, and the men and women in the crowd begin screaming, but you stay put. “Shit!” The guard sticks the large taser against Logan’s chest and Logan only grumbles, his face turning into anger before he grips the device, ripping it out of the man’s hands and slamming it over his skull, creating the most bone cracking disgusting sound you’ve ever heard.

His rips through people easily, tearing open their skin with his claws and kicking their skulls in with no effort but all good results as they fall to the floor, going through them one by one before they were all dead. Except the announcer, who you’ve kept your eyes on the entire time… crouched behind his table…

You know you were told to stay put, but you couldn’t help it. You leave the cage as Logan tears through more bodies, and you creep up to the balcony where the announcer was, only standing when you were behind him, and he turns around to the sound of your claws extracting and being dragging across the wall.

“Wait no…” He chuckles in fear, putting his hands up in defense. That stupid fucking smile on his face as he tries to talk to you, but all of his words go one ear and out the other. His voice shaking only fueling you.

Then you grab him by his throat, lifting him to his feet before slowly dragging your claws from the horizon of his forehead between his skin and his scalp all the way down to between his collar bones, leaving a deep cut of your claws in place of his skin, blood leaking down your hand and his chest, seeping into his shirt.

“Fuck you…” You hiss, landing a kick on his stomach and you watch as he falls to the floor beneath you, and Logan’s eyes meet yours from below as his three claws find their way into the last man’s throat, and you hop down, of course, landing on all fours.

You’re a cat after all, but just as you’re about to say something..

“You look just like her.” He says suddenly, his hand coming up to brush hair from your face.

“Like who…?”

“Like my Leopard…”

“Your leopard…?”

“It’s a long story.” He tells you, his hand moving down to find yours, your fingers lacing. “Is her name also Charlotte…?” He asks quietly, and you nod, a tear dripping down your cheek.

“Is yours?” He nods as well, and you have the overwhelming need to hug him, and you do, throwing your arms around his neck and standing on your toes to reach him, your tail looping around his leg as much as it could. “What happened…? To her…” He takes a deep breath, his arms wrapping around your waist…

“I lost everyone… including my daughter…”

“Do you wanna stay with me?” You ask without thinking.

“Are you sure…? You don’t mean that…” He pulls back slightly, his hands moving to your shoulders.

“I mean it… I mean… You look just like my Logan…” You stare into his eyes, your own hands moving to cup his face. And you could see the hurt in his eyes.

“Your Logan…? and he?”

“Mhm…”

“Shit…” He chuckles, a little in pain but also partly at the opposite ways your lives turned out and he squeezes you a little, holding back tears.

“I’d love to come with you…”

🏷️: @malavera @brushworth

[irislunace]

Siciria Analyzes The Most Complex Stick Figures Known To Man (part 3)

ooki, so here's part 1 and part 2 (Blue and Red)

This one is for Yellow :D

Also, I am thinking of ending this after 5 parts (after this we'll have part 4 Green and part 5 TSC)

...depending on factors I might keep going after part 5? Like maybe Purple or something? But uhh anyways...

SPOILERS AHEAD

-

Okay, so Yellow is essentially the resident "nerd" of the group. He likes redstone, command blocks, strategy games, and coding. He canonically has glasses as well (when his face is visible), and he is quick to implement his ideas, especially during battle.

Examples:

He was quick to throw his staff at the minimize button because he understood where Greenscreen was getting his power from.

He was quick to begin making a plan to escape the piglins (whereas Blue froze instead - check part 1).

Yellow is someone that can understand what needs to be done and do it efficiently.

But, er, sometimes...

...he can get carried away. His inventions and mind can get away from him sometimes and cause consequences for him and his friends. Prime examples of this are the lucky block episode - (he literally got POSSESSED because he took apart a lucky block and used the glowing magic orb thingy to make gifts for his friends) and the Actual Short: Upgrade, where his invention essentially destroyed their house.

But now I kind of want to talk about more recent occurences with Yellow. As most of us know, there was a comment on one of Green's vids that said that Yellow had lackluster acting, and another one saying he was useless in the skit, both hearted by Green. In my opinion, the "useless" portion is fine (the comment was probably talking about Yellow's role in the skit), but Green could have responded better to the one about lackluster acting.

And this got me thinking - Yellow's probably really insecure about this kind of stuff. He is already the least popular out of the Color Gang (and Purple, Chosen, Dark, King, and Corn Dog Guy) - I'll explain my theory as to why in a second (hehe).

AND...I've also been seeing a few comments and fanfictions saying Yellow is the "worst fighter" or "least athletic" of the group??? These mostly stem from his kind of unconfident fighting stance in this scene...leading to him getting clapped (even tho everybody got clapped without the weapons).

And now my theory as to why Yellow is liked the least.

In my humble opinion, all four of the fighting quad had roughly around the same in the beginning. Of course, Second is the main character, and he lives up to that title, so he'd obviously have way more fans. But each of RGYB have different personalities that appeal to different segments of the audience.

But we obviously don't like it if our favorite character isn't having screen time or any contribution...and we also don't like it if another character that isn't our favorite is getting more screen time. Like Yellow in Animator vs Animation.

He's the one who hacked into Dark's computer and brought Alan's cursor to the Outernet, and kept a level head while everyone else was freezing.

And he's the one being wanted by Rocket Corp, while the other three were cast aside. He has a larger role in AvA than Red or Green or Blue, and I think many of us kind of dislike him for that. Heck, when I first watched the Showdown, I disliked it slightly as well.

-

I know this one was less of a character analysis than the other two, but I really wanted to talk about this with Yellow. Feedback and additions are appreciated!

[mooselybased]

What's this?? It's the Dad Squad from The Adventure Zone: Dadlands, all together in a single platform fighter moveset! Enter Briquette Hoggins, Chip Hugginsbee, Guy Ferrari, and Coach Red Ruffinsore!

I wanted to include a law/chaos meter mechanic in this, so here's how this one works. You play as one dad at a time, and each of the four special moves will swap you to the corresponding dad. Landing hits as a chaos dad (Briquette or Chip) will raise your chaos but drop your law. Landing hits as a law dad (Guy or Red) will raise your law but drop your chaos. Most standard attacks are themed after one type of dad (grill, vacation, car, or sports), and landing hits themed to your current dad will give extra meter. You can spend meter by holding down the special buttons for powered up versions of those attacks. Spend chaos for stronger neutral or up specials, and spend law for stronger side or down specials.

Now for the moveset itself. The down special swaps you to Coach Red Ruffinsore, who let's out a piercing toot on his whistle for high damage but practically no range. Spend law meter to chain together several whistles with no cooldown.

The side special swaps you to Guy Ferrari, who will drive forward a good distance in his Hyundai Elantra. Spend law meter to instead drive Yvette the Corvette, which explodes for massive damage at the end of the move.

The neutral specials swaps you to Chip Hugginsbee, who will toss a snack from his backpack in a lofty arc. Spend chaos meter to instead whip out just a gun, for a faster and more powerful projectile that shoots straight forward.

The up special swaps you to Briquette Hoggins, who fires a cut of meat from his chest cavity straight down, giving him a small bit of air in the process. Spend chaos meter to instead summon Chokey the barbecue spirit, which propels Briquette faster, further, and in any direction.

The Dad Squad's finale has them reach into a Continuity Obliterating Recurrent Neutrino (or, C.O.R.N.) Hole, extruding them through time and space. Briefly, all four dads, and fractal copies of them, will spread horizontally across the stage, moving and attacking in unison.

To those who made it this far, thanks! This was my 29th moveset concept in this series, and I'm planning on taking a break from this once I post the 30th one. Lemme know if you have any guesses as to who it might be, and I'll see y'all then!

[mi-dori]

☆Outworld's Beauty☆

●Prompt: In which you trained the earthrealm champions to fight in the tournament and Lord Liu Kang decides to bring you along; however, you saw the beauty of Outworld the minute you stepped out of the portal.

●Warnings: Nothing too explicit, just reader being a flirt.

■MK1■

For countless years, Earthrealm and Outworld participated in a tournament called Mortal Kombat which was founded by Outworld's late Emperor, Jerrod and Earthrealm's protector, Lord Liu Kang. For many tournament, Earthrealm came out victorious because of the champions that fought hard and well to protect their realms. Earthrealm's power was respected by Outworld though there were some who wished to conquer Earthrealm.

Alas, the tournament was slowly approaching. Lord Liu Kang had chosen his fighters and his taste was...interesting to say the least. Johnny Cage, an actor, Kenshi Takahashi, a young man fighting to restore his clan's honor, Kung Lao, a farm boy who dreams big and Raiden, another farm who's contented with his life. Lord Liu Kang saw much potential within them all, and took them to the Wu Shi Academy to prepare and that is where they met the most interesting individual, you.

As a young child growing up, you visited the Academy and watched as the monks trained every day. As you grew older, Lord Liu Kang vouched for you and the monks took you in and trained you, thought you everything you needed to know. Of course those monks were ancient as they had all passed away, passing their teachings and skills onto you who was now the martial arts master of the Wu Shi Academy and also the teacher to the earthrealmers.

Training the earthrealmers required not too much work, as three out of four of them took their lessons seriously. Cage was the one who pushed your buttons. Despite all of that, Lord Liu Kang deemed them ready and as the final test came to pass, Raiden became the choosen one. He vowed to fight for earthrealm tirelessly and to honor your teachings and honor you as his teacher.

The trip to Outworld was quick yet it felt very tiring. As you all stepped out of the portal, your eyes landed on a woman in blue. Her beauty made her stand out among the others there. She looked rather elegant to say the least.

"Are those-Empress Sindel's daughters? Yes." Lord Liu Kang knew the question you were about to ask as he had noticed your gaze lingering on the younger daughter.

"Princess Mileena," he greeted, bowing and so did the rest of you. Mileena and Liu Kang exchanged small talk, introducing the blue one to be Kitana, her sister. Raiden looked at you, noticing how mesmerised you were by Kitana.

The princesses took you all to the Palace where the Empress awaits. You sat in the carriage with Liu Kang, Raiden and Mileena while the other three sat with Kitana. "Do you recognise everyone here, Raiden?" You asked, noticing the way he peeked out of the carriage.

"Yes I do but those beings..."

"The six arm beings are called Naknadans." Mileena answered for him. That was strange... you didn't remember the monks telling you about them.

It took a little while to reach the Palace. The royal guards escorted you all inside, to where the Empress and Princesses sat. Lord Liu Kang bowed, introducing everyone.

"And this is y/n l/n. The teacher to my champions." With a proud smile, Liu kang pointed to you. Sindel let out a pleased hum before Kitana spoke.

"I hope you've trained your warriors well, Y/n."

The way your name rolled off her tongue sounded like music to your ears. "I did. I am quite confident in Raiden, the champion choosen to fight."

"You seem nervous young man," Sindel stated.

"I'm a stranger in an unfamiliar land, here to compete against it's greatest fighters. Yes, I am nervous."

"As you should be." Sindel was quite confident in her champions as well. You wished Raiden good luck before stepping to the side. And so, the first round began. Raiden won without a sweat and so he did for the rest of the rounds. When he seemed to catch a hang of it, Sindel dismissed the tournament until tomorrow morning, inviting you all to the evening's banquet.

The banquet was astonishing, food and beverages were served like it was the oxygen needed to survive. Kung Lao stuffed his face like a pig, receiving disgusted glares from General Shao and his right hand.

You let out a tiring sigh, hearing Cage flirting with Kitana, though you couldn't blame him, you would've and will flirt with her as well. "You're ten thousand years old?!" He asked in shock.

"My, you certainly aged quite gracefully princess," you hummed, tasting the wine.

"Hey that's supposed to be my line!" Cage protested. With a wave of your hand, you dismissed Cage, noticing the way Kitana turned her attention to you.

"Well aren't you quite the charmer?"

"I have my ways with pretty ladies though I must say, pretty is an understatement when it comes to your beauty."

"Oh really now?" Kitana's interest in you spiked. 'How can someone who look so innocent be so damn charming?' She thought.

"Your beauty is ethereal princess." You sighed, a sly smiling carving your lips. Kitana let out a small chuckle.

"Thank you y/n. It truly means alot."

Cage watched with his mouth agape as you and Kitana threw flirty comments back and forth. This was supposed to be his thing not you yet he couldn't bring himself to stop you, not when you looked so happy talking to Kitana.

[jasmines-library]

Spinning out.

WHUMPTOBER DAY 14. Prompt: Water inhalation. Fandom: Top Gun (Maverick daughter reader x Bradley Bradshaw)

Summary: When a mission goes wrong and you and Rooster are sent into a tizzy, forcing you to eject, you run into a sticky situation when your lifevest fails to inflate.

Warnings: Drowning, Water inhalation, Near death experience, minor ptsd.

Word count: 2K

Notes: I'm sorry. (Side note, this can be plationic or romantic.)

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER WORKS

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

The sun was just rising above the skyline as the familiar rumble of the jet started up. Shortly after that came the weightlessness as it soared into the sky. It was supposed to be a simple mission, take down a couple of fighters that had stepped over the territory line, then return in time for a drink down at the ‘Hard Deck’. 

You would never not admire the way the world looked from up here as you soared between the mountains towards the ocean, leaving the base as a tiny grey speck in the distance. It took your breath away. 

“How’s it looking back there, Viper?” Rooster asked from the front of the jet. The com crackled in your ear.

“All good, roo.” You replied, glancing down at the multitude of buttons and screens.

Rooster has been your best friend since you were young. You had grown up with each other and worked your way through Top Gun to follow in your parents’ footsteps. He was the Goose to your Maverick. Literally. Although the two of you were only young when his dad passed, you had seen the way that it broke him, much like the way it broke your dad. And although you would never completely be able to understand Roosters grief, you stuck to him through thick and thin. 

Once you were finally old enough to join Top Gun, your dad was hesitant. He had lost his best friend. He wouldn’t lose you too, though it was all you knew. It was all you had wanted to do since you were 6 years old and playing with model planes in the garden with Brad. And so, there you were; strapped tightly to the chair of a plane hurtling through the atmosphere as your best friend’s RIO. And you couldn’t think of anything better. 

Time passed nonchalantly as the fighter edged towards the opposition. Although it was a standard mission that you had done hundreds of times you still couldn’t help but form an anxious knot in your stomach, especially when the other jets came into view.

“Bandits ahead.” You informed the Phoenix and Bob who were cruising along besides you.

“Copy.” 

You watched the small dots dance across the green screen. The triangle of fighters heading straight towards the four of you. “Heading straight towards us.” You told Rooster, who nodded abruptly and began to manoeuvre the plane to the right. 

“Taking evasive action.”

The jet swerved as it raced past the enemy, before setting in line behind them. They broke apart, scattering around you. 

“Shit.” Cursing, you tried to adjust the monitors to locate the plane that had slipped from view on the monitor. “I’ve lost one of them. Bob, anything.”

“Negative.”

As Rooster flew, you kept a keen eye out for the third plane which had vanished within the clouds that obscure your view. 

Thanks to his skilled training, Rooster managed to take down one of the enemy vessels without an issue. The second one was trickier, with both pairs of planes making a beeline towards it as it raced away, You could feel the force on your body making it harder to move as Bradley urged the plane forwards. You could see the two dots inching closer together until they were nearly aligned.”

“Rooster, I can’t get the shot.” Phoenix called out over. 

“Copy. Just give me a moment.”

Narrowing his eyes, Rooster placed his thumb over the missile, twisting the jet so that he could get a clear shot. When the lines finally aligned and the control panel let out a happy chirp, he pressed the trigger down, launching the missile which hit its target and sent it careening into the water. Phoenix congratulated your partner as you continued to search the sky for the missing plane. Though seemingly it was truly out of sight. After deciding that it may have retreated, and receiving the go ahead from Maverick to return to base, you reeled back around and began the journey home.

“I’m glad I can bring you back in one piece Y/N.” Brad sighed from in front of you. “Now there’s one less reason for Mav to kill me.”

That was when the monitors began blinking, and the third dot reappeared on the scanner.

“Break! Break!” You yelled as they locked onto your jet, launching a missile towards you. Quick on his feet, Rooster swerved. 

“Bandit found!” He called out over the comms as you moved to fiddle with the switches, although the frantic movement made it hard to move as it sent you sliding around. 

The enemy was suddenly coming up in front of you, causing Bradley to break hard. “Shit!”

When it pushed in front of you, the force which it left with, shoved your plane harshly, causing you to slam into the side of your chair. 

“Jet-wash!” He cried out.

There was no time to react as the force sent your plane spiralling. Lights flashed frantically in the cockpit as the high pitched alarm screeched. “Both engines out!” 

Without the aid of the engines the fighter jet was forced into a tizzy, twisting as it spun out of control. At some point the motion had slammed you into the glass of the cockpit. You cried out painfully.

“Viper!?”

Your body screamed at you as you tried to move but the force of your body as the jet rapidly dropped in attitude was too much to allow you to move. 

“Eject!” You told him, craning your head to twist towards the two loops that hung in between where the two of you were stationed.  “I can’t reach the handles. You have to eject!”

Eyes wide and frantic, Rooster reached behind him , fumbling for the fabric. When his shaky hands wrapped around them, he gave them a sharp tug and then the two of you went tumbling from the plane and hurtling towards the bottomless ocean. 

Rooster groaned against the heavy pull as his parachute opened. He watched anxiously for yours to fly open, letting out a breath when he saw it fly out behind you and your fall slow. But something was wrong, because when you hit the water, you didn’t come back up. 

Your arms flailed frantically as you tried to keep yourself afloat, but you had hit the water hard and every movement you made with your legs sent agony across your body, and without the aid of your life jacket, which failed to inflate, the parachute which quickly absorbed the water began to drag you down. You took a gasping breath as you heaved, trying to keep your head above the churning water, but it w as no use. You vanished beneath the surface of the water.

It was dark. And cold. And your lungs burned for air that wouldn’t come as your  lungs filled with water. You twisted, struggling within the fabric and rope which had wrapped itself around your body, tangling around you like you were a fish caught in a net. Your eyes stung with the assault of the water as you stared blankly at the inky green above you. Your movements slowed as your energy began to deplete, and soon you knew nothing but the dark and icy water.

~

Rooster watched in horror as your head disappeared below the water and you didn't resurface. Struggling against the water, he swam as fast as he could. The heavy weight of his parachute slowed him down, trying to drag him towards the same fate as you, but he pushed himself forwards. He had to keep going, he had to get to you. Barely registering the loud humming of the helicopter above, he swam to the green ink that leaked from your suit and began to dive down. The resistance of his life jacket tried to pull him back towards the surface, but he could see you now. Your hair floated around your face, drifting as you lay motionless in the water. Your skin was pale and your lips were turning a shade of blue. He could see the chute wrapped around your ankle and the def

He outstretched his hand until his fingertips brushed yours, but then he was yanked back harshly by the buoyancy-aid. Cursing loudly, he dived back into the icy water, propelling himself forwards. When he finally managed to wrap his hands around yours, he pulled you towards him. His lungs burned and tiny air bubbles escaped from his nose. Fumbling, he struggled to unclip you from the parachute, but after finally freeing you from the binds, your body floated up with his easily. 

With a hard kick, Brad resurfaced and took a gasping breath, sucking the air greedily into his lungs and allowing the life jacket to do its job.

You lay morbidly still across his chest. Lips chapped and an ugly shade of blue. Bradley called out, crying your name and begging for your response but you said nothing. Did nothing. Not even your chest rose and fell. The helicopter settled above the water and soon there were hands on him, parting your lifeless body from him. He struggled against them, ignoring the pleading of the medics and the rescue team. He needed to get to you, but you were just too far away. 

~~

Maverick watched you anxiously from where you lay on the bed, hooked up to a line of machines. There was a cannula attached to your right side, so he held the left, bringing it up to his lips and placing a gentle kiss to it. Maverick would never forget the moment that he heard the alert come through on the radio. His body tensed and his heart stopped in his chest as though he had been gripped by one massive, icy hand. He refused to leave your side. Not even to sleep and that was because every time he closed his eyes, he was hit with the image of Goose, lying lifeless in the ocean. It was too similar; too much of a sick coincidence spat out by fate. But this time it was different. The two of you had clawed your way back. Rooster had been in a state when he returned; frantic and rambling. Mav hardly made him feel any better after yelling at him. The pilot’s stomach sank at that thought. Unmeaning to hurt the boy, scared he yelled at him- words he would never have said. The thought was relentless as it echoed in his head. 

You began to stir, blinking heavily against the fluorescent lights. Maverick sat forwards from where he was slumped in the armchair. He greeted you with a gentle smile as you turned to face him. 

“Hey kiddo.”

“Hm?” the noise you made was groggy as you shuffled. Your entire body ached like you had been bit by a truck. 

“Oh kid…” He cooed, tracing circles on your palm. “I’m so glad you’re ok.”

You nodded, scanning the room. “Brad?” Your voice was hoarse. 

“He’s…” Maverick didn’t have the heart to tell you that he had warned the boy away. But he was saved when the door peeled open and the tired boy pushed his way into the room. He had a small cut on his cheek and a blanket shawled around his shoulders. Bradley also shivered slightly. He stopped dead when he saw your eyes on him. 

“Y/N.”

You smiled. “Hey, Roo.”

Maverick watched the two of you intently. His daughter and his best friend's son. He saw the way that his features softened around you and the way that your eyes glistened as you listened to him chatter away. It was a moment of tenderness that brought a proud grin to his face and in that moment, Maverick knew that as long as you two had each other, you would always pull through.

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

<-DAY 13 ⛤ DAY 15 ->

Taglist:

@senjoritanana

@deans-spinster-witch

@amaryllis23

[angel-of-the-moons]

Hiii, how about writing some fluff about Poe teaching reader who’s a new pilot for the resistance some of his tips on flying? The rest is up to you. I’m missing Poe as well :,)))

Baby Wings

Poe Dameron x Reader

TW/CW: Nothing!

A/N: I might consider writing this on my tablet because lord help me, typing these out on a tiny phone screen is not good for my hands! 😩

💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫

You couldn't stop the butterflies from fluttering inside of your belly as Poe Dameron--the Poe Dameron--leaned into your cockpit to point out the controls of your new X-Wing.

You had just been appointed to his squadron as a fledgling pilot. You had originally been a smuggler that the Resistance hired routinely, and apparently, a flight maneuver you performed in a dogfight with a few weequay pirates got Poe's attention.

If you could fly like that in an old hunk of clunk freighter, how would you do in something designed for finer maneuvers, for dogfights?

How good would your skills be against the First Order?

Your senses were currently buzzing as everything Poe invaded the cramped space. The smell of oxidized metal, or smoke and ozone from patching up hull breaches and walls to the base; the smell of sweat and cheap juice he'd downed before spotting you in the hangar and rushing over to offer his "expertise".

He wasn't looking at you, he was practically laying on you, actually; as he supported his weight on the console with one hand and pointing out the dials, buttons, levers and latches you'd need to memorize to control your new fighter.

His face had thin rivulets of sweat trickling down his gloriously almost-olive skin, his dark raven curls falling around his face, clumped with excess sweat. His suit was soaked too, the orange having dark stains from the moisture his body was sweating out thanks to the damned heat of this Force-forsaken planet.

But honestly, you sent a silent prayer to whomever was listening for the heat, because you hoped--like some foolish schoolgirl with a crush on a galaxy-famous athlete--that Poe would get sick of the heat and tear off the top half of his suit to cool his heated skin.

You were so absorbed in staring at him, that you had almost entirely forgot to listen to him. You only realized your brain lapsed when he turned his head to smile that trademark grin of his, wrapping up his last sentence.

"...and then that's the yoke, obviously. Don't need to tell you that. Got it?"

"Wh--oh! Y-yep! Got it, commander..." You cough awkwardly, four fingers fiddling pointlessly with the controls.

"Kay, theeeeen..." He smirked at you from the corner of his eyes as he turned back to your control panel. "...repeat everything I just told you. Y'know... So I know my impeccable lessons stuck."

"I, uh--well, uh. This is the..." You began to blubber out, trying to find something you did know and give a quick, half-assed explanation on what it did.

Poe barked out a hearty belly laugh, "Don't even bother, darlin'... If you were paying attention... You'd know that I squeaked in a line about me being the former Emperor of Kashyyyk. And, as handsome as I am, unfortunately, I feel ike the wookies might have an issue with me wanting to claim the throne. ...If they even got one."

Your face flushed with color and you buried your face into your hands, "Stars, I am so sorry. I-I really was trying to pay attention, I just..."

"Got lost in all this--" He leaned back to gesture to his messy, sweaty form. "--primal, god-like, drop-dead gorgeous attractiveness?"

From the bottom of his ladder, you could hear BB-8 tweet out a response that called Poe out. You swore you could make out "nerf-herder" and "Hutt's armpit" in-between his refuting whistles and beeps.

Poe leaned back on the ladder and frowned at his round companion, "Hey, you little womp-rat! I will have you know a lot of people find me handsome!"

BB-8 once again doubted that claim, your abilities once again picking out few choice words such as; "drunkards", "a blind quarren" and "brain-dead jawa".

You need to laugh at their bickering overpowered your embarrassed, darkened cheeks and you titter and snort at what little you could pick ou.

Poe looked at you with a playful scowl, "What're you giggling about?"

You cover your mouth and point down at BB, who tweeted as he spun in a circle.

Poe looked between you and BB, his jaw going slack as his amber eyes looked to the both of you in disbelief.

He finally looked back at you for a final time, pointing at you.

"You," He pointed down at BB-8. "Can understand him?"

You rub the back of your neck. "W-well sort of... I spent a lot of my childhood working in a droid repair shop, and--"

Poe clapped, whooping happily, "Oh, I knew I liked you! Finally, somebody else who can hear what this little metal butterball is shouting at me! You'd be surprised at how many people don't understand droids!"

He leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, "...Sometimes I think they're the lucky ones."

BB-8 twittered and shrieked a response, beeping rapidly in an irritated manner, making Poe laugh once again.

Finally, he leaned into the cockpit once more, winking at you.

"C'mon, darlin'... let's go over this again so the info soaks up into that pretty little brain o' yours. And if you do a good enough job on the pop quiz... maybe we can hit the local cantina!"

[rotdistressxox]

devours my ask that you answered very loudly

M SO HAPPEY !! I LOVE KENGAN !! i might seem a bit silly sending in an ask so soon one after another but I'm absolutely inlove with ur writing and it's so scrumdiddlyumptios..

can i ask for a somewhat continuation of the last ask but..said S/O reveals that they fight to music they play in their head..it's up to you the genre to music but as for the characters..i gotta get my cakemaster9000 agito..

I will be appearing like that one embarassing memory every now and then so..can i be 🪡 anon?

HAAAIII HELLLOOO OMFGGG!! You're so nice I'm gonna cryyy. Yes you can be my little 🪡 anon ♡

Don't mind me while I look through my Playlists teeheee

Continuation: Kengan Men with an 'Experienced' Fighter S/O

First part here

Cakemaster 9000 / Kanoh Agito

• "Hey Kanoh, I need to tell you something..." You tug him by the cuff of his black suit.

• He gives you his attention, and all you can do is hope that he understands.

• You tell him that the secret to your fighting skills, is fighting to the rythym of songs.

• Surprisingly, he's not surprised. He's been watching you a while and noticed the pace of your every movement was like a time signature.

• Is well versed in music and happens to like classic rock and older metal.

• You knew this though. The songs you fight to are more on the heavier side of metal. Not too distant when it comes to genres. You show him the songs and he quite enjoys them.

Ohma Tokita

• Now that the secret was out, you let him watch you train to music. You have to let him dj tho, even if he doesn't know how to use music streaming apps yet :,)

• Once you told him, his mind instantly blanks. What does music sound like again? Has no idea how complex and Layered music and its genres are because he's never ever been a music person.

• "Huh"

• Zero thoughts, no thoughts at all in his head right now.

• You roll your eyes and pull out your phone to show him a few songs. Mostly alternative music. You have to explain rhythm and beats to him.

• He pretends like he understands, but he really doesn't.

• You give him an example by shadow boxing to the beat of a song. He kind of gets it now.

• "You get it now?" "I guess. It seems kinda dumb"

• Fine. Turning on a metronome, you started counting at 6 beats per second. "One two three four five six" you cross punched and jabbed while counting out loud.

Raian Kure

• Once he heard the counts, he was sort of impressed. He'll have to use it sometime (insert fight with Inaba Ryo)

• "You fucking WHAT-"

• He shakes you by the shoulders as he deafens you with his yells of disbelief.

• All this time he thought this was just stupid, stupid, luck that you had on your side. He was about to burst a blood vessel.

• You smack him upside of the head otherwise he would hurt himself with his rage.

• He's mad at you for a few days, won't let you touch him or anything. Was he really that wound up about fighting to music?

• Not really. You confront him about his unreasonable behavior and for the first time in forever, he's up front about his inner feelings.

• "I'm kinda pissed that you didn't tell me about it sooner" he crosses his arms averts his eyes.

Gaolang Wongsawat

• "I didn't know what your reaction would be-" "Shut the fuck up and kiss me with those lips of yours"

• Blinks. Blinks again. Blinks a third time. Is he hearing this right?

• Chuckles before his facial expression turns into horror. How could he be this stupid? Or was it you that was stupid? He honestly didn't known

• "Gao? You okay?" He stands up and drags you to the palace training grounds.

• "Spar with me while you sing" he unbuttons his shirt a little and gets into an orthodox boxing stance. "Okay?"

• (Insert Dam that River by Alice in Chains)

• You two come out of sparring sweating. You were pretty sure another button popped off of his shirt but you weren't complaining.

• "I see it now" he wipes the sweat from his forehead. "How did you come up with such a method?" He panted.

• "I think I started dancing too hard to music and punched a hole in the wall"

• He actually l laughed this time, catching you off guard. "How idiotic" "Hey!" You punch his shoulder and he grabs your hand.

• He actually likes to hear you sing now. It opens him up to a new world besides the National Anthem for Thailand and traditional songs.

[itstheghostofmypast]

MOOT GAME: " make up a trope for your moots and their biases. doesn’t need to be romantic. can be crackfic/funny/anything you want ^ㅇ(๑>◡<๑)ㅇ^ "

Okay- so, first of all, thank you so much Anon, for this ask and I'm sorry I responded to late, but I had to take my time with this one.😭💖.

So here it goes, (i know i said i'd do two biases, im sorry guys, i love yall too much and i get too invested the word count was killing me)

1) @edenesth

Park Seonghwa- Rivals to Lovers

Here me out, he owns an old book shop across the street, he's been there longer than you too. This was his turf, his town, his people, people who loved to read in his cozy library, with its olden print books, worn out pages, read through by generations of the same family.

All was great until one spring she shows up, with her whole pastel plus minimalistic vibes, all with the cutesy trinkets and plants, with warm lights- he noticed some books too, but they were only for show- in conclusion it was a horrid place.

A horrid place where most teens would go to after school now, no longer going to his bookshop, where they'd gossip, read novels or mangas, or even look at pretty pictured magazines (the safe kind, mind you he kept nothing nasty). What's worse was that the older folk began to go there, too! Especially because of how nice she was to them, so polite and so pretty and - ANNOYING.

He even went to 'inspect' the place, with a sour mood and an ill intention, though he was greeted with a burst of sweet aroma, one that had his stomach growling and his inner foodie, begging him to pick at least one of the many pastries or have a cup of steaming, delicious coffee. What came next was worst, her, with her gentle smile and angelic features.

"Hello! Welcome to Spring Avenue, how may we help you today?"

"You're taking my traffic."

"I'm sorry, I don't understand."

"Of course you don't."

With that he had walked out, starting a cold war, between the two. Ironically, she was a pacifist, never a fighter, but boy, did he piss her off, he knew all those buttons that would have her steaming like a hot latte.

The war had begun;

It all began when he put a " 10% off sign on Mangas, Fashion Magazines and Manhwas" that took a god chunk of her traffic.

In retaliation, she launched a "Friendship campaign, any customer that brings a friend gets a cake slice free."

Spend 2 hours reading here and leave with a borrowed book/novel of your choice."

"Buy a coffee and get a cookie free."

This continued throughout the season, so did their rivalry, to an extent that led their divided customers sense the tension. And like usual, highschoolers are escapists and this little feud of Seonghwa and her's was a problem they'd like to avoid, from her cafe they could see their beloved bookshop owner Seonghwa scowl at them, and if they were leaving the bookshop, the kids could feel the uneasiness in her smile that she give them once they'd pass her by.

"Congratulations, you're in loss." She sighed, closing the file, earning a scowl from the cafe owner, "Hey, I'm just here to check your bills, loss, and profit stuff, don't shoot the messenger."

"Alexia, come on." She whined, this was her dream, she'd put in her life's savings for this, "What should I do, Lexi?"

"Gosh, maybe not give out stupid discounts four times in a month?" Alexia sighed, rubbing her face, leaning back to stare at the bookshop across the street, "San said he knows the owner, maybe you guys could do a collab, instead of trying to each other's traffic."

"Who's San?" She asked her best friend, slash account manager and Public Relations officer- wait, was she dating!?

"Oh- uh- hey would you look at the time?" Alexia got up, grabbing her disposable coffee cup and bag, "Tell you what, you ask the bookshop owner dude about this? Okay? I'll get back with the details on Monday!" She called out as she walked towards the door, ignoring the cafe owner's questions about this San, "BYE LOVE YOU!"

That's how she found herself standing Infront of his bookshop that evening, still debating if she should go in or not? Was this idea even worth it, the guy was rude, annoying, stupid, incredibly handsome and sweet with kids and- the hell.

"Can I help you?" His deep voice came out of no where

She almost jumped out of her skin, only to turn around and spot the man she had been hating for the past ten months, standing there in all his angleic glory, with that ugly sweater and that overly comfortable scarf, not to mention his hair, his undercut had grown, quiet well too, perhaps he really was blessed with good genes.

"I uh..." she trailed off, pouting to herself, thinking of how he'd react, maybe he would make fun of her, or insult her or even go as far as to tell the town about her poor business management skills.

"Are you still open?" his question had caught her off guard, staring at him quietly wanting to see if this was a trick, only it wasn't, for when she nodded, he had looked around and then asked if he could...get a cup of coffee from there.

Of course she had said yes, why on earth would she say no to a customer, she needed the business. Unfortunately, that one cup of coffee, turned into two, then three, well- not as unfortunate as she would like it to be.

The two, mind you, who still didnt like each other, began to learn a lot about each other. He learnt how she was genuinely a sweet, caring and gentle person, her persona was indeed not fake but very real, this is who she was. She on the other hand, learned that he had inherited this business from his family, and he was an avid reader- sort a geek, a cute geek, a cute geek that could eat a whole chocolate cake with three mugs off coffee like it was nothing.

It wasn't until the third week of him visiting her cafe, that when he had stepped out to go there, he had bumped into her. She had almost fallen, but he was quick, gripping her wrist and pulling her into his chest, only to laugh when she mumbled an excuse, though he was glad she couldn't hear how his heart was hammering against his chest, wanting to stuff itself in the breast pocket of her coat.

That day she had asked him if she could check out his book shop, because she had been looking for old English bakery recipes and she couldn't find it anywhere, not any store around or online. Of course he had taken her to the right isle, in the right section in no time, this bookshop was his life and collecting and sifting through books was his passion, that day he had seen her passion, she had sat there, on the floor the entire night, reading book after book, mumbling to herself as she noted down recipes. He had sat next to her, helping her jot down notes, bringing her coffee- well not as good as hers, but good enough. At one point he had even ordered them a late night snack, well snacks, because he's a growing boy. He had closed the shop with the two inside, even pulled out a blanket and some cushions from the lounging area so she could comfortably work- she was a passionate girl and ironically he had realised something that night, only it turned into a full blown epiphany in the morning.

Next morning she had woken up right next to him, her head on his shoulder, his arm wrapped around her as the blanket was draped over the two, they had fallen asleep while reading- oh my, he really was pretty up close.

Though the two pretended nothing had happened, nothing had changed, however, everyone around them had noticed, the highschoolers would giggle when he'd come to her cafe for a cup of coffee, or how the older folk would pat him on the back when she'd step into the bookshop calling him out for help, with her little, "Hwa?"

Neither really knew how it happened, but one night while closing up he had waited outside for her, telling her he'd drop her home, even though she lived close by. Slowly this had become part of their routine, he'd often talk about the latest manga or an issue to the Star Wars comics or whatever on earth he'd talk about, but she'd always listen. Always smile and laugh at his jokes, while he'd readily accept any test recipes she'd try, telling her that his stomach was like a blackhole.

But when do the two get together? Simple, on New Years Eve, when he had to close his shop but she had decided to leave her cafe open, wanting to cater to all those who were celebrating the arrival of the new year with their loved ones, she knew Seonghwa had to go home anyway and she didn't want to spend the night alone since her family was out of town. What she did not expect was a few minutes before the strike of midnight, the cafe door chimed open as she turned to greet the customer, only to freeze at the sight before her- Seonghwa entering with a bouqet of origami flowers, smiling at her as he slowly walked to her;

"I- I know you don't like plucking flowers or bouqets, so I made you these."

"You...made these?"

"Ofcourse."

"W-why?"

"I...because I..." but before he could finish his sentence his ears picked up the count down, causing him to quickly place the flowers on the counter and as soon as the fireworks rang in her ears, it was as if she could feel the burning warmth in her body, taking a second to process how his lips were on hers, his hands cupping her face as her hands instinctively went up to grip his coat, pulling him even closer. Who knew that one day she'll end up opening a cafe that also served as a bookstore, who knew that one day, her little, evil, handsome rival bookseller, would be the New Year's kiss she never knew she needed, the man she never knew she needed, the lover that she was blessed to have.

2) @yessa-vie

Jeong Yunho- Neighbors to Lovers

No, she was not the new tenant, he was, and for some ungodly reason he was also extremely ill-prepared to live alone. Like any other weekend, she was leaving her apartment to go to the cafe to sit in peace and finish her novel, but God had other plans. She had opened the door to come face to face with a tall, good-looking man, though the smile he wore scared her- he was one of those extroverts.

No, he was not mean at all, nor was he the manipulative kind, Jeong Yunho really didn't know how the pre-installed dishwasher worked, that's why he had come to her that fateful weekend, about to knock on the door but she had beat him to it, opening the door before he could, earning a sheepish smile in return- who knew his neighbour would be so gorgeous, who knew purple could look so good on someone?

"Hey, I- I moved in across the hall, apartment 19, lol, I guess we're neighbours, huh?"

She had only nodded meekly at his question, pulling her satchel closer to her person, not because she didn't like him, no, but because she wasn't much of a talker anymore, not so confident either and also- because regardless of how good looking this stranger was, he was still a stranger.

"I'm Yunho- Sorry to bother you, I know you must be going somewhere, but I- I uh- I wanted to know if you know how to operate the dishwasher?"

That's how she found herself in his apartment, leaving the maindoor wide open, so she could escape if something were to happen, but to her surprise he was just a regular idiot, one who thought the dishwasher was a rack used to dry the dishes- men.

That night Yunho met an angel, one who seemingly had her life planned out, held together well, while he was still trying to build something out of his- data analyst or not, living alone was not the easiest thing to do, yet, she seemed so nonchalant about it.

Overtime however, she noticed how he would come over to ask her for help often, sometimes it was the 'fridge isn't working right' other times it was the 'how much water do you add to rice while boiling it?' Honestly, she would've told him to piss off if it were anyone else, but it was her polite neighbour, her sweet polite, new neighbour who would pass her by in the corridor every morning, smiling at her and wishing her a good morning- even if she wasn't a morning person.

Ironically, he continued to ensure they cross paths, only because he wanted to get to know her, to talk to her, he really needed a friend, and since moving here meant Mingi and him could no longer hang out 24/7, he really needed another person to talk to, someone who was not Hongjoong from the finance department.

Ironically, she did not protest or tell him to get lost, instead she's quietly help him whenever he'd approach her, giving him a shy smile then going back to her apartment. That purple door tempting him to go back and knock on the old wood, wanting to know what Narnia like secrets she hid behind.

She let it be, truthfully, she wanted fo befriended him, but during these little adventures, she realised she had begun to neglect her book, the same book she had a deadline for, the same book she had been working on day and night, and now this puppy pops up and takes all her attention?

So what does she do? Simple, she starts to create some form of distance, leave before he'd be awake, come back home later too, also even if he did come to knock on her purple door, she wouldn't be there to answer it, so technically she wouldn't feel guilty right?

Wrong, instead God had punished her with a severe writer's block, one so bad that she had missed two of her deadlines, and according to her publisher, she was on her last chance. That's how she found herself at the very cafe where she would find solace, now on the verge of tears, staring at the laptop in pure agony, maybe this was payback for leaving him unattended and ignoring him or maybe she was never meant to be a writer.

A fresh cup of coffee was placed next to her hand, causing her to quickly pull back and look at the stranger, only her panicked eyes met a softer, more timid gaze, a gentle smile gracing her presence.

"Hey... you looked like you needed the juice." He smiled, gesturing towards the chair, as if asking for permission to sit down next to her, to which she nodded.

"I uh..." she paused. Should she even be asking him how he's been? Does she have the right to do so, or are they just neighbours- well, at this point, two strangers living across each other.

"I read your books by the way," he began, giving her a gentle smile, as he felt the way she had tensed up, honestly, initially he thought she was like that because his presence made her uncomfortable, but he soon realised it wasn't him, but she usually was this tensed all the time, this nervous and unsure, which made no sense to him because she was one of the most well functioning person he had met in the city, and he was glad to have moved in next to her, "It's great, the plotline is amazing and the details- you really captured the essence, I particularly liked the world you created, honestly, when I moved here I thought everyone wore those 'blockers' too. To not...feel stuff you know," he turned to look at her, only to catch her staring at him, a small chuckle escaping him when she cleared her throat, averting her gaze, "You were the only one who was nice enough to help me, even for the stupidest of tasks...it means a lot."

She stared at him in awe and disbelief. She had been trying to avoid him for almost a month now, couldn't he tell? Or was he just playing dumb- I mean he totally could be dumb, he didn't know a toaster comes with settings, just thought the numbers were there for the appeal.

After that the two began to "spend time together", it was strictly casual mind you, nothing personal, though he would drop by more often than usual, sometimes after work, sometimes on the weekends- to have dinner with her, he'd bring dessert, or to watch a movie with her, he'd bring the snacks- no, nothing domestic at all.

Or so they thought, because a few months in, he had come over by swinging the door open, yes he had the keys and she had his keys, only to find her standing there all dressed up.

"Where are you off to? What about movie night?"

"Oh no..." she gasped, "Yuyu, I forgot to tell you I had a date tonight." A date? Why? With whom?

"Wait, why?"

"What do you mean why?"

"Why would you go on a date when we- I mean...isn't it weird? Shouldn't you be more focused on your book, instead of this temporary romance?"

"Temporary romance?!"

"W-wait, I didn't mean it like that. It came out wrong-"

"Out."

"W-what?"

"I said get out!"

That happened a week ago, she had been avoiding him for a whole week, she had been ignoring his calls, his texts, his knocks- no he didn't barge into her apartment, it took him a great amount of time to get her to open up to him and he idiotically clowned himself. So he decided to go to the next thing, go to the official reading of her book launch.

He waited there at the back, listening to her intently, taking in each word, who knew he would ever fall in love with, her neighbour, the same girl who had helped with the dishwasher, brought him dinner at night, spent time teaching him the usual ropes of living alone- who knew the very same girl had changed the plot of the book, basing it on her life, expressing how the shy, depressed protagonist, who thought dying her hair purple would make her feel better, realised that the only thing that would make her feel better would be a companion, a tall, handsome man, with a heart of gold- it was not that she needed a man, no, she just needed a friend, and she had finally found one, the inspiration to her writer's block, the Chandler to her Monica, the- HE DIES!? 

He gasped, appalled at the way she had ended the story, where at the end, on his deathbed the man tells his beloved how she never needed him, but he needed her to function, to live through each day- bloody hell.

He waited for them to leave when he finally approached her, somewhat upset-no, he was very upset, as she stopped cleaning up to look at him, raising a questioning brow, "What?"

"I can't believe you!"

"Funny, Jeong, I should be the one saying that."

"What!? You killed me!?"

"What?"

"I come here to declare my undying love- no I come here to tell you how much you mean to me and apologise for never asking you out but getting upset when someone actually asked you out and you KILL ME IN YOUR NOVE?"

"First of all, I accept your apology, secondly, the protagonist was DEFINITELY NOT YOU, I made him up WAY BEFORE I met you."

"Oh..." he stared at her then looked around the almost empty bookshop, maybe he should just leave-

"So...Will you ask me out properly now or...'l"

"Move in with me."

"Too fast."

"Was worth a shot." He smiled when she let out a small laugh shaking her head at his antics, "Take me to dinner, Yunho." She smiled watching him lean closer then pause, as if asking for her permission,  "Can I...?" His question was answered when she gripped him by the lapels of his coat, pulling him closer to crash her lips against his, smiling when he wrapped his arms around her, pulling back only to press his forehead against hers,

"We move into my apartment..."

"What? Mine's great-"

"Yunho, have you seen the window and the balcony on mine?"

"Your apartment it is boss."

3) @jaehunnyy

Choi San- Bestfriends to Lovers

Idiots, these two were complete idiots who were utterly in love with each other but were also too blind to realise that - why? Simple, because both feared that confessing to the other may ruin the long-held, deep bond.

A bond that had developed at the ripe age of childhood, middle school, to be more accurate. The day he had come to school, bored out of his mind, staring outside the window, wondering if he could jump on the closest tree to escape this prison. What he had not expected was an angel to come and sit beside him, well technically, the teacher had made her sit next to him, and he hadn't noticed her until she poked his shoulder lighter, causing him to jerk back and gasp, earning a few chuckles from the glass as the teacher just sighed in defeat.

"Wh-Hello."

"Do you need help with that?" She asked, pointing at the math equation in front of him. He looked at his notebook and remembered that's what they were supposed to me doing- damn that was a lot of daydreaming.

"Yeah, I guess...do you... know how to solve it?" He asked the new girl, too afraid to make eyecontact.

"Here, I'll show you." Turning to face him, she pulled his scribbled notebook closer.

"I'm San by the way."

That day onwards, a nice and quiet introvert at the back of the class finally began to crack open. From time to time, you'd hear him whispering to her, talking about some anime or a film. Often, he'd be telling her about his cat, Byeol, and how pretty she was. During break you wouldn't see San next to her for the first five minutes, no, he'd be sprinting across the campus,jumping down the stairs to go to the canteen to get her something to drink with her lunch, or a sweet snack, regardless of how many times she'd say 'it's fine.' During self study hours, she wouldn't be studying, no, she'd be busy tutoring her athletically gifted friend, he was...a little dumb, but that's okay, he was hardworking and she'd tell him she'd help him where he'd get stuck, explain and tutor where needed- especially in math.

As they grew older, he grew into his body, his self-esteem issues slowly subsiding, his feelings for her deepening, yet, never enough to tip the scale, at the bring of an edge but never enough to flow out he had to keep it all under control, because that's just how San was, patient and calm, he would never take a step if there was an ounce of the doubt when it came to how she felt about him. Though watching her spread her wings into the beauty she was, well, was somewhat problematic for him. Especially when she'd come to him, smiling like that, greeting him with the gentle voice of hers, asking him if he liked her haircut.

"What do you think?"

"It's...very nice."

"Just very nice?"

"You'd look pretty to me even if you were bald."

Conversations like these would have her heart hammering against her ribcage, and she'd pray to God that he couldn't hear it. She'd pray for it when he'd be walking home side by side, his shoulder bumping into hers, or his hand brushing against hers, when he'd take her bag from her, clicking his tongue at how heavy it would be,

"You trynna' build muscles like me?" He'd ask, though he was still very fragile, he'd only started going to the gym when he noticed how the 'basketball team captain', had decided to ask her to 'help tutor him too', though she had politely declined.

"Hmm? Of course not, Advanced Math books are just big like that..."

"Why do you do this to yourself, dove?" A nickname she had gained over the time, one used only by him.

"Because I wanna teach one day, I love teaching, I want to make sure people realise subjects aren't difficult or they aren't dumb, it's just that they're not taught properly."

Yup, he was smitten, on his knees, begging for her please ( he was also an idiot).

Ended up in college with her, though in a different major, like hell the now 'mountain of a man', no longer the kitten-like fragile boy, was going to major in math- business was a way better option.

This wasn't a bad situation, though they rarely had a few classes together, she'd still make time to see him, to text him as soon as class would end, but he'd already be standing at the exit, waiting for her with a coffee in hand and a dimpled smile, reserved just for her.

In no means was Choi San an extrovert, but somehow along the line he had met one, who later claimed that his MBTI had changed to an introvert too, though he doubted that notion- Jung Wooyoung.

Boistorous, noisy, obnoxious but a genuinely nice person at heart, Wooyoung was his companion in his major's classes, he was also the first person to know about San's little secret, since San trusted him enough to know, though Wooyoung assured him he had figured it out as soon as San introduced him to her as his "bestfriend".

"You're an idiot." Wooyoung snorted, taking off his shoes as he walked into the 4th years tiny apartment.

"What? Why?"

"You really think I didn't know?"

"How did you kno-'

"You can be bestfriends with a girl since childhood, unless a) one of you confessed to the other and got friendzoned but still chose friendship or b) neither of you confessed but are secretly crushing over the other."

"Wow, should've been a psychologist instead of a business major."

"What can I say, Sannie? I am a man of many talents."

Things progressed like this for a long time, Wooyoung watched from the sidelines how the two would basically act like a couple that was not a couple- almost everyone at campus thought they were a couple and Wooyoung was basically the third wheel. Not that he minded, and San appreciated him for that, he was glad Wooyoung's relationship with his dove was platonic- borderline sibling-like.

But Choi San was a fool, one that Choi San, at the fresh age of 25 wished that perhaps he'd be able to take the next steps, but something at the back of his mind held him back, were his personal desires as important as this friendship?

Which is why he stood there watching his best friend get ready for her date, her date with Wooyoung. After a conversation he did not like, but what could he say? He was too afraid to even confess, and well, Wooyoung wasn't a bad guy, and technically, he was his friend.

"I'm gonna ask her out, Sannie." The brunnet sighed, before taking a sip of his coffee, humming at the bitterness, perhaps this bitterness was sweeter than the bitter taste that had developed in San's mouth at the statement.

"W-why?" The bigger man with the fragile heart whispered.

"Because...I like her...I'm sorry but...I gave you time, so much of it and...I just wanted you to be the first one to know...if she says no, we'll all still be friends, but if she says yes...San, I won't hold back."

That had led to her first anniversary with Wooyoung, then the second and finally a day before their third anniversary San had texted the couple how he wouldn't be able to make it to their anniversary party because he had work that day and he wished them the best.

What he did not expect was someone knocking on his door at 2 am, opening the door to find a tear stained Wooyoung, only for him to punch the taller man in the face, watching him stumble backwards then wipe his eyes and sigh, "I swear- if you weren't such a great guy, I would've stabbed you."

"What the F*CK WOOYOUNG?"

That night was the first time he had seen Wooyoung cry, cry about how when she read the message she had become a mess, one that even Wooyoung couldn't fix, begging him for forgiveness how she made a mistake, how even though she was happy with Wooyoung, her heart belonged to someone else, someone who she thought she could move on from since he never confessed, since he never liked her back the way she did, and though the text was a confirmation of that, she couldn't bear lying to Wooyoung, to give him only half the love of what he deserved, knowing he deserved someone who would teach him the true meaning of love, because she was a teacher with only one student in mind, the idiot of a man- Choi San.

That night San couldn't sleep, not a wink, he processed the words over and over again, so did she like him? Should he confess to her? Now? Wouldn't that make it awkward? Or should he wait? Would that be a mistake?

Though his questions were answered in the morning when the doorbell rang at 7 am, making the sleepy man sigh as he stumbled to the door with blurry eyes, opening it still half asleep, only the slap he received woke sobered him up quickly,

"OW- WH- WHY ARE YOU JUST LIKE WOOYOUNG!?"

"SHUT UP! DONT TAKE HIS NAME! I HURT HIM BECAUSE OF YOU!" Never in the many years of knowing her, had she raised her voice like that.

"I-"

"NO! LISTEN TO ME!" She yelled before shoving him inside so she could continue yelling inside, "I like you- and you- you d*ck you could tell him you liked me but you couldn't tell me!? All those horrible dates you watched me go to, but you couldn't stop me?! You knew you liked me yet you let Woo ask me out!?"

"I- I didn't wanna ruin what we had..."

"San, I- what if I had married Woo? Huh? Then what? When you already had half my heart, I-"

She couldn't finish her sentence though, because the next thing she knew, he was smothering her with all that pent up love, his lips pressing against hers with a ferocity she had ever seen in her gentle Sannie, wanting to claim what he was too scared to touch before.

He only pulled back when she lightly pushed him back, gasping for air, looking up at him all flushed and pink, her swollen lips just enticing him even more,

"W-what was that?" She breathed out.

"Never say you're marrying anyone but me, I would've ruined the wedding even if it meant being thrown out."

"You're an idiot Sannie."

"No, I just had a teacher who could teach me math, but couldn't teach me how to love properly - guess she was learning too."

[usafphantom2]

The Story Of The Soviet Pilot Who Defected To Japan With A Secretive MiG-25 Foxbat

September 6, 2016 Military Aviation, Military History, Russia, Troubled Areas

Image credit: Alex Beltyukov

OTD in 1976, Viktor Belenko, “stole” a MiG-25 and landed in Japan.

The then Lieutenant Belenko was a pilot with the 513th Fighter Regiment, 11th Air Army, based in Chuguyevka, Primorsky Krai, in the east of the country. When he brought his MiG-25 “Foxbat” to Hakodate he gave the Western intelligence officers the opportunity to give a first close look at one of the most secretive airplanes of those years: a supersonic interceptor featuring a powerful radar, four air-to-air missiles and a top speed above Mach 3.

In order to assist the American experts in evaluating the aircraft, Belenko brought with him the pilot’s manual for the MiG-25 “Foxbat”, expecting to assist American pilots in evaluating and testing the aircraft. Even if the Japanese government didn’t originally give full access to the plane, the Americans were later invited to examine the aircraft extensively: the MiG was dismantled for such purpose and later returned to the Soviet Union.

In his “MiG pilot” book (1983) John Barron claims that Viktor Belenko’s defection was completely voluntary and was the result of Belenko’s distrust on communist regime.

The MiG was delivered to Japan without the missiles, which were to be introduced in the Belenko’s training later on. The mission was launched earlier than initially planned, because the KGB was about to stop Viktor Ivanovich Belenko from defection.

Although pilot defections during the Cold War were not a rarity, what made Belenko’s defection unique was the fact that the MiG-25 was largely unknown in the West. This is the main point to bear in mind when thinking about Belenko and, unfortunately, this fact is often forgotten.

The ideological background for the events which took place in 1976 is deeply rooted in the beginnings of the post-war period. As the Cold War was in progress there were many incidents and crises which closely led to a confrontation between the two superpowers. One of these events was Francis Gary Powers’s U-2 spy flight on of May 1, 1960.

Power’s U-2 took off from USAF Peshawar Air Base in Pakistan for a GRAND SLAM mission, to investigate the Soviet missile and plutonium production plants. Targets were Sverdlovsk, Plesetsk (ICBM sites) and Mayak – a plutonium plant.

The U-2 was a plane designed to fly well above the Soviet air defense Surface to Air Missile systems. Its operational ceiling was out of the range of the Soviet interceptors and missiles but Powers’ flight was expected, all of the units and surface-to-air defenses were put on alert. The MiG pilots were ordered to ram the aircraft if necessary. The U-2 was eventually shot down by an S-75 Dvina missile near Degtayrsk in the Ural region. Because of high g-force Powers had no chance of reaching the airplane’s self-destruction button and had to eject.

What is interesting is the fact that SAM crews did not know that the plane had already been shot down because the MiGs’ IFF transponders were not updated (May 1st is a national holiday), therefore several Soviet aircraft were also shot down by S-75 rockets.

The political consequences of the spy flight were severe.

Shortly after the incident the Americans created a cover up story for Powers’ failure. NASA had announced in a very specific press release that the pilot, having lost consciousness due to the problems with the oxygen equipment, had strayed into the Soviet territory with his autopilot engaged while carrying out a weather flight.

On May 7, Khrushchev announced that Powers had survived the crash and, nine days later, on May 16, 1960, during a Four Powers Paris Summit meeting with Harald MacMillan, Charles de Gaulle and Dwight Eisenhower he called the U-2 incident an act of a “deliberate aggression.”

Eisenhower refused to apologize for the incident, claiming that the U-2 flight was not of aggressive nature, having only a purpose of ensuring US safety. The meeting collapsed. At the time, Eisenhower was a proponent of so-called Open-Sky Policy, according to which both sides would allow for reciprocal reconnaissance flights over their territories. Khrushchev did not agree. Powers was sentenced to 7 years of hard labor in a Gulag, but he was exchanged for a Russian spy Rudolf Abel on the famous Glinecke Bridge in Potsdam, connecting West and East Germany.

Gary Powers incident sparked the development of the American Oxcart programme, with the goal to design the SR-71 spy plane, which in addition to flying high, also flew very fast, out of the range of the Soviet missiles’ operational envelope.

What is more, a D-21 drone reconnaissance system was developed, to be carried by SR-71 as a parasite. The drone would be dropped, fly over the Soviet Union, return over the Pacific and drop the reconnaissance materials on a parachute.

Both these designs led to the development of a Soviet countermeasure – the MiG-25, known in NATO code as the Foxbat.

MiG-25 take off

The main reason for the importance of Belenko‘s defection cannot be understood without going deeper in the aviation context of the event. The Cold War was the time when both sides used the nuclear armament as a psychological weapon. Therefore ways to deliver warheads were some of the priorities in the development in the field of military industry.

One of the ways to deliver warhead to its target was to use the strategic bomber. The bombers in the US – the B-52s – were subsonic, and could have been easily intercepted by the MiG-21, which was capable of reaching speeds of Mach number up to Mach 2 and altitudes of 60,000 feet.

Problems began to emerge when the B-58 Hustler was designed. This plane was capable of flying with the same level of performance as any MiG-21, which for the Soviet designers meant they had to look for a better countermeasure.

The Strategic Air Command of the United States Air Force at the time was into creating a nuclear-powered bomber of infinite range. The project had been dropped in 1964 when North American aviation announced that it could build a bomber capable of attaining speeds of Mach 3 throughout the entire length of its mission.

Secondly, after the failure of U-2 spy plane, launched the Oxcart program, which lead to the development of Mach 3 strategic reconnaissance aircraft, SR-71.

That put the Moscow designers on alert, and an assignment was given to the design bureaus of MiG (Mikoyan and Gurevich) and Sukhoi to develop a countermeasure.

The surface-to-air missiles were considered insufficient. The aim was to develop a single-seat interceptor capable of attaining extremely high speeds and altitudes.

New problems for the Soviet scientists emerged, such as thermodynamic heating, leading to immense development of the Moscow research institute, TsAGI – transliteration of the Russian abbreviation which stands for Центра́льный аэрогидродинами́ческий институ́т (ЦАГИ) – Central Aero-Hydrodynamic Institute. Mikhail Gurevich was the leader of the MiG-25 project.

According to Discovery Channel’s TV series Wings of the Red Star many Western experts argue that the Foxbat was inspired by the North American Aviation A-5 Vigilante. The design programme for MiG-25 was founded in 1958. The basic design of E-155 which later became MiG-25 was the work of Artion Mikoyan.

The E-155, the prototype of what was to become Foxbat was propelled by two large turbojet engines designed by Tumansky. The prototype itself was designed in the period of 1961-1962.

No aluminum, so popular in the West at the time, was used for construction. Steel and nickel alloys were used instead, with limited use of titanium on leading edges and places where heat loads were expected to be high.

The aircraft had to be light, to that extent that weight was traded for strength. The G-load it could withstand was only 5 g, two times less than other fighters which were designed to fight in close combat.

The maiden flight of E-155 was made by famous MiG test pilot, Alexander Fedotov on May 1, 1964.

The MiG-25’s mission as an interceptor required development of fire control system which would be able to work at the speeds the plane could reach.

The radar on the plane, RP-25 Smerch, designated in the NATO nomenclature as Foxfire, 1,100 pounds in weight, was the largest device of this type at the time. According to Barron, the radar was very powerful (600 kilowatts), as

“[Belenko] also dared not touch the radar switch because the impulses from the MiG-25 radar were so powerful, they could kill a rabbit at a thousand meters. Hence, it was a crime to activate the radar on the ground.”

Its purpose was to burn through any jamming systems known at the time and to provide a stable lock-on allowing the pilot to use the air-to-air missiles that Foxbat was carrying.

Also in May of 1964 the XB-70 aircraft was made a research airplane, and presented to the public in Palmdale, California, after being canceled three times (in 1959, 1960 and in 1961). At same time, the U-2 missions were still a danger, so as the SR-71, US Air Force ultimate Mach 3 spy plane. For these reasons the development of Foxbat was not canceled.

Mikoyan left his design bureau in March 1964 for health reasons. Never had he an opportunity to see the MiG-25 enter service dying in December from the heart attack.

In March 1965 the first public announcements of the plane’s performance were made, which was that it completed 150 kilometers closed circuit flight at the speed of 1,400 miles per hour.

The Foxbat made its first public appearance at the airshow organized in connection with the celebration of the 50th anniversary of the October Revolution on Jul. 9, 1967 on the Domodedovo airfield. When three MiG-25s appeared in the sky the show announcer referred to them as “Interceptors capable of Mach 3”.

Both the Western experts and Russians were puzzled, as even in the Soviet Russia there was almost no information about the MiG-25 available to the public whatsoever, up until 1972.

Mig-25 side takeoff

Besides being an interceptor, the Mig-25 was also a high altitude reconnaissance aircraft. It was operated in the conditions of direct radio communication with the ground and was capable of taking photographs of whole United Kingdom within one flight.

The West had an opportunity to see what the aircraft was capable of in a proxy war between Israel and Egypt.

Four MiGs, referred to as X-500, were shipped to Egypt in fall 1971. The Egyptians were forbidden to come close to them, and even though the aircraft had Egyptian markings, they were flown by Soviet pilots and serviced by Soviet crews.

When one of the Israeli F-4 Phantom fighters tried to intercept the MiG reconnaissance aircraft at Mach 2,5, the MiG simply accelerated to Mach 3.2 and disappeared.

The MiG-25 engines were capable of producing 12,500 kG each. The design assumptions of the construction were not to create a good close combat fighter, but to propel it throughout the airspace as fast as possible.

In the late 1960s the USA developed the F-15 which was a fruit of the vague understanding of what MiG-25 was. That understanding was based on the speed and altitude records Foxbat had broken (see below).

The Western experts assumed that it was faster in straight line than expected. They also thought that it was made of lightweight, modern composite materials and that it was powered by modern turbofan engines. It was also believed to have a long-range and good close air combat capabilities.

As a result of that, American engineers designed the ultimate fighter jet, which was very complex, and due to that – quite costly. In the beginning of its existence it broke many of the climb records established earlier by hte Foxbat.

It was late 1972 when F-15 entered service, and it was long until 1976 for the MiG to remain a mystery.

On Sept. 6, 1976, when Viktor Belenko defected taking off from the Sokolovka airbase and landing in Japan, the Western perception of Foxbat changed.

It turned out that the airplane was heavier and simpler in construction than expected, hence it had shorter range. It was far from being a close combat jet with its rugged construction. It also had very poor low-speed capabilities.

As Peter Ustinov of the Wings of the Red Star TV series summarizes: “MiG-25 was indeed an extraordinary machine, but not the one the West had imagined.”

Nevertheless the simplicity of Foxbat could not stop it from breaking many world records, nor could the Americans at the time.

MiG-25 front left

The prototypes were made lighter and their purpose was to break several records. As it is stated in the classification of FAI (International Aeronautical Federation), Foxbat belonged to the category C1 (III) which specifies jet powered aircraft with unlimited take-off weight.

The records broken by Foxbat were of various nature.

They included: speed record on a 1,000 km circuit by chief MiG test pilot Alexander Fedotov: 2319,12 km/h on Mar. 16, 1965; the Foxbat broke several time-to-height records, for example climbing to 20,000 m in 2 minutes 49,8 seconds. The MiG-25 also set several absolute world records that still stand. Absolute world altitude records with 1,000 kg payload, and without payload: 35,230 m and 36,240 m respectively were also set.

Air-to-air_left_side_view_of_a_Soviet_MiG-25_Foxbat-E_aircraft

As already explained, the West had almost no knowledge of MiG-25 whatsoever until 1971, and very poor knowledge by September 1976 when Belenko defected.

It was a great surprise, and present for the Western experts when Belenko flew a brand new MiG-25 to a Japanese airfield.

At first the Soviet officers at Sokolovka airbase, where Belenko was stationed, thought that it was navigation systems problem that occurred and lead to the event. The defection, however, was preplanned and premeditated.

Several authors say that Belenko, had been an aviation enthusiast from his earliest childhood.

He received his flight training in order to become a flying instructor and devoted most of his time to learning and perfecting his flying craftsmanship.

He got a job as an instructor in Amarvir Pilot School, flying Sukhoi Su-15 planes, always being a top notch airman. It was in the beginning of the 1970s when he heard about a MiG-25 for the first time.

Almost immediately, wanting to learn about the new plane, he asked for transfer to flight training on Foxbat in 1972. The unit he applied to was Rostov, near Iran, but he was soon moved to the far east, to Sokolovka, the 530th Fighter Regiment.

The permission for transfer given by the commander being an exception in those times was justified with the Belenko’s great interest in the modern air technology. His records were flawless, so he was selected, and he was appointed a party secretary of the squadron.

Belenko’s training program progressed without any trouble. After the individual flights program ended the group flights began. The group flights started at the end of August and were to be conducted for one month.

On Sept. 6, 1976 Belenko walked his child to the kindergarten and went to the base to fly.

The weather conditions were good for flying – the cloudiness was of about 7/10 with the lower cloud surface at 1,500-2,000 meters and upper at 5,000 meters. Take-off was to take place at 12:50.

Soon after the take-off Belenko reported engine problems and separated from the group. He dropped to an altitude of 50 m above the sea, so no problems that usually occur in a low-level flight were present. He was flying low, so the radars could not track him. The direction the plane was going was eastward. Directly towards the Japanese archipelago.

Getting closer to the shore Belenko climbed to 6,700 m, waiting for the reaction of the Japanese air defense.

370 kilometers from the island he was finally spotted by the radars. The Japanese at Chitose airbase scrambled a pair F-4J fighters to intercept him. Knowing that he had been detected he descended again but he soon entered the clouds, experiencing difficulties in navigation.

At 13:52 he spotted an airfield and attempted a landing, but had to abort it and go around because of a Boeing 727 airliner taking off. According to his assessment, the airstrip was a bit shorter from what he had seen on military airfields. He made a long landing, overshooting the runway and rolling about 240 meters beyond the threshold.

After getting out of the cockpit he spotted the name of the airfield. Unfortunately it was not a military base, but civilian Hoktado strip. Nevertheless, Belenko was in Japan, which was his main objective. Just after getting out of the cockpit he made a warning shot and warned the Japanese not to come close to the plane because it was secured with explosives (at the time the Soviet Air Force used to secure the MiG-25 from getting into the Western hands by using explosives and self-destruction system).

He also asked the personnel to cover the aircraft in such a way that the Soviet markings were not visible. Then, he asked to be put in contact with the US Air Force representation. The airfield was closed down for five hours. Belenko asked for a political asylum.

The time between the afternoon of September 6th and 7th was very eventful.

The media showed a large interest in the incident and disseminated the news all across the Western world. Aeroflot sent a delegation, but they were not allowed to see nor to come close to the Foxbat.

Diplomacy was a major problem. In order to justify keeping the pilot and plane on the Japanese territory the authorities accused Belenko of illegal border trespassing.

The plane was moved to a hangar and afterwards was transported to military airbase in Hyakuri, located 80km north from Tokyo. On Sept. 19 a C-5 Galaxy cargo plane was brought from the US in order to transport the MiG-25; eleven experts from Wright-Patterson AFB were brought in order to examine the aircraft.

Also 64 Japanese experts took part in the examination. The aircraft was partially dismantled and transported in escort of F-4J and F-104J fighters.

The examination included infra-red photos of Foxbat with the engines working at full military power. It was essential for western air-to-air missiles designers to know the heat spectrum of the engines, so that they could develop missile guidance systems according to the characteristics of the Foxbat engines.

The diplomatic struggle went on. The official statement of the Japanese was that the plane would be returned to the Soviets but no sooner than Oct. 5, 1976. Due to the fact that samples of materials were taken from the wings the Foxbat could not go back by air.

It was dismantled again and sent back on a container ship in parts, in 13 containers. The Japanese secured the containers so that the Soviet personnel would not do the review of the plane in the daylight.

But the Russian methodology was unknown to the Japanese. The personnel had opened the containers with crowbars and it turned out that some equipment was still in the hands of the West. The Soviets asked the West to pay for the missing aircraft instrumentation and avionics. The Japanese in a reply asked the Russians to pay for transport and formalities.

Belenko’s family was detained and KGB started an investigation. A personal diary in which fuel calculations were carried out was found in Belenko’s flat.

It was also found out that the pilot was in Moscow a week prior to the deception.

All these factors suggested that the incident was a long preplanned operation of the American intelligence as Belenko could have met a US agent in Moscow.

What is more, the Soviet pilot very often used the confidential library of the airbase, more often than other pilots. It was supposed that he might have been taking photos of the MiG-25 manual.

After Belenko arrived he was isolated from the third parties.

He got a political asylum in the USA, where he started working in an aviation company. Afterwards, in many interviews, like in one for Full Context magazine, he said that the main reason behind the defection was to get away from the communism.

He received American citizenship and opened his own company. He got married to an American woman, with whom he had 3 children. According to Barron’s book his family life in USSR was going towards a bitter end – a divorce – so he fled to the US.

After publishing this article we received an email from one of our readers who provided some more behind the scenes details. Here’s what he’s written to us:

Actually, they did, and Russia was totally unaware of it. It was rolled into a hangar, dismantled, and flown to Area 51 by C-5A Galaxy, where it was totally examined, taken apart, reassembled, and flown by Victor Belenko against our first line fighters of the time. It was then disassembled, crated, loaded back onto the C-5, and flown back to Japan, where it was placed on the dock to await a Russian freighter’s pick-up.

We expected to find high tech alloys used for the wings, but the rust through the paint revealed they were steel. Where we expected high tech electronics, we found vacuum tube electronics.

You must remember that Russia builds for durability, and survival under war-time conditions. Just like their AK-47 Automatic rifle…bullet proof, easy to manufacture, and repair under war conditions. Which is easier to construct, and repair during wartime..high tech, or low-tech items? You’ll find the inside of Antanov’s giant aircraft made the same way, especially loading ramps, which are hollow, with an aluminum thin covering and internal ribs, with a reverse dimple texture. Hydraulics actually glass jars !!

Area 51 was the site of many Russian MiG tests, obtained from many different sources. we had a number of pilots versed in, and trained in MiG operations and evaluations.

Yes, Japan DID allow the removal, and testing, by us, of Belenko’s MiG 25..but it was highly secret.

About Jacek Siminski

Standing contributor for TheAviationist. Aviation photojournalist. Co-Founder of DefensePhoto.com. Expert in linguistics, Cold War discourse, Cold War history and policy and media communications.

@TheAviationist.co

[thebluester2020]

The Stranger [Pt.1]

Summary: You were a citizen of Natlan. In the nation of the Pyro Archon, you were constantly greeted by bloodshed and violence. A life that kept the finely tuned forces of the nation in balance until it completely shattered with the arrival of the Fatui. And you had the newly arrived Harbinger to thank for that...but, one fateful night it seems, you just happened to stumble upon a man who could possibly throw the Fatui out of your homeland entirely.

Warning(s): Wholesomeness sprinkled around, Il Capitano is a bit of a liar here, eventual smut, Imagined Natlan(?) (Obviously the nation isn't out yet so I'm using my imagination as to how things are + how the people function lol), good ol' angst at the end.

Note(s): I adore fics where the Fatui are kinda shady so I decided to add my two cents in. I didn't want to risk making this too long so I'll make a part 2 to this eventually! (Im also trying to get back into the swing of fanfic-writing so excuse any errors y'all!)

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

"You don't belong here."

Those were the first words you said to the imposing figure whom you had found hidden away in the depths of a charred forest in Natlan. A nation where the earth pulsed with the lava that flowed just underneath the surface and volcanos oozed lava just about everyone one could see. Symbols of Natlan's fiery beating heart that those from other nations were too fearful to touch much less come close to at least...aside from the Fatui.

They arrived in your homeland about four months ago, led by a mysterious leader who was said to have been a monster in battle. Who wielded his weapon as easily as his own limb and tore through the battlefield as fiercely as a rampaging Fire Bull. It was the Fatui's 4th strongest Harbinger, Il Capitano, and you wouldn't deny that hearing the best warriors of Natlan describe him like that...it sent a fearful shiver down your spine.

If there was anything this nation prided itself on, it was the chaotic change and the delicate art that could be found in war.

An outsider mastering that art better than the residents of your own nation? You weren't much of a fighter yourself, you could just about swing a sword but you weren't on the leagues of those who were renowned fighters or those who regularly participated in duals, but...with the arrival of the Fatui and hearing how they've ransacked and pillaged villages?

Tearing apart families and using people's weaknesses to the cold against them.

You wanted to help.

This is how you found yourself in the present now, peeking out just a little from behind a tree as you watched the stranger practice his swordsmanship now suddenly regretting the words that escaped your lips recklessly. Although, it seemed like the stranger hadn't paid you any mind.

You stepped out from your hiding spot a little more, your eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You don't belong here." You repeated.

It was then that the stranger ceased his practice, the act of him plunging his sword into the rocky soil making you jump a little. You expected him to say something back to you, maybe some words of trying to shoo you away or that you were interrupting his practice but...as you shifted a little underneath the awkward silence. You took the opportunity to look the stranger over.

The stranger was tall, big enough to give the large bulls of this land a scare. He had broad shoulders like a great oak and wore rather simple clothing despite training with a weapon, a black button-up with some black pants, his outfit similarly colored to his otherwise dark navy hair before...it was all topped off with that strange mask he wore on his head, one that didn't reveal his features and made it seem like his face was nothing but an empty black void.

You cleared your throat. "Who are you?" You finally asked.

You could've sworn you heard a shocked gasp from the man before his head slowly tilted to the side. "...You don't know who I am?"

You raised your brow. "Am I supposed to?" To which the stranger cleared his throat but he shook his head.

"No," He answered before he plucked his weapon from the ground and went back to battling one of the trees.

His swordplay was magnificent, his weapon was about as big as he was yet he wielded it as efficiently as a thief would a knife! You pitied the poor soul who had the unfortunate luck of coming across the stranger in battle. "You wield your weapon well." You complimented.

No response.

"Graceful, effective. You should be a part of Natlan's warriors rather than fighting against a tree, you could possibly thwart the invading Fatui."

Once again, he stopped, sparing you a glance. "The Fatui won't leave."

"Not with that attitude and you fighting in a dead forest."

The stranger let out a heavy sigh as he plunged his sword into the ground once more. "The Fatui are mightier than you think, they've bested Natlan's best warriors with ease."

"And you could help stop them!"

The stranger scoffed, shaking his head. You were certain that he may have thought of you as a too-hopeful fool but, what else was there in be in these times of strife? Where Fatui were spreading further and further out? You were just lucky enough that they hadn't happened upon your village yet! But...it was only a matter of time, and quite frankly? With your village being composed of nothing more than elderly folk with their grandchildren. You were searching for any way possible to be able to try and protect your village.

You sighed. "Look, we- we don't have time to lose ourselves to hopelessness. Everyone who is a skilled fighter-"

"Needs to help?" The stranger finished for you, crossing his arms. "If you believe helping or thwarting the Fatui is the right thing to do then you forget one of the teachings of the Pyro Archon."

Your jaw dropped a little. You weren't a devout priest but you understood her words well enough! "Okay Mister Know-It-All, what am I forgetting?"

"The Principles of Change." He said. "Chaos who begets fire and war. For she is the instructor of the two as to how to best enact her will."

You flushed as one of the teachings came to mind all of a sudden. But...although change was indeed chaotic. That didn't mean that it had to be at the loss of countless lives and the awakening threat of your people possibly being turned into nothing but slaves for the Fatui! You'd rather die than see that reality happen.

You dared to place a gentle hand on the man's forearm. "Chaos working to forward change doesn't have to bring needless death. Please." You begged. "You could help, save countless people even!" You felt any semblance of hope for keeping your village safe shatter when the stranger walked away from you, the rest of your words catching in your throat before you looked at your feet, gulping down a round of tears that threatened to surface.

You sighed. "...Alright then," You said, looking back up to see the man tearing his sword from the ground before he began to walk off. "I-If you change your mind, come find this forest again and head west! You'll find my village!"

You were certain your words fell on deaf ears.

.

.

.

It had been a few days since you had last visited the forest. On some nights, you were certain you could hear the faint sound of a sword colliding with a tree but you never went to investigate. Instead of focusing your efforts on trying to make sure that your village was as safe as possible when you'd go out for food and supplies, you'd always take a more confusing path back just in case someone was following you. When you talked at the market about your village, you simply said that you lived a solitary life in the mountains in hopes that, if someone did check, they'd be met with disappointment.

It seemed to be working so far.

Things were as peaceful as could be- "Hm?" You hummed aloud at the sound of someone knocking at your door.

As you walked through your house, you grabbed a dagger off of a nearby weapons rack, holding a hand behind you as you went to the door. "Who is it?!"

"Me," A familiar voice that you thought you'd never heard. You nearly dropped your weapon as you rushed to open the door.

At the sight of the stranger, you nearly beamed ear-to-ear. "Y-You're here! You came."

"Simply because I need a place to rest my feet for a while, your village was the closest." The stranger said as he had to bend down a considerable amount just to fit through your door. Thankfully, he left his weapon at the front door as he wandered through your home, the sight of such a large man trying to maneuver and avoid bumping into things could have almost been considered comedic had it not been for the-

"Blood?" You wondered aloud when you spotted it on the back of his cape.

"...Fatui enemies."

You smiled. "Ah, well, seeing as there's only a little. I'm certain you handled yourself quite well." When the stranger had finally taken a seat in your living room, on one of the larger pillows, he had quickly taken off his cape before he folded it.

"Hopefully you would have considered my offer? Of trying to push back the Fatui?"

"No," He said. "Besides, the forces of Natlan's warriors are weakening. No matter how strong you may think I am. I won't be able to change anything on my own."

"Well...then what if I help?"

You pouted when he chuckled. "Absolutely not, you couldn't even sneak up on me. What could you do against an army?"

"I never said I had to fight them front and center! I could learn to use a bow-" Suddenly, the stranger pulled you closer by your arm, staring you down before he looked you over. You couldn't pinpoint why but...whatever made you begin to blush by him looking you over, you didn't exactly dislike it.

"I think...you're better off here. Keeping your house warm and village safe, there's not many safe places. The last thing I'd want is for my one safe place to disappear."

You gently shook your arm from his grip as you looked away in embarrassment.

"Oh please, I'm not some housewife...besides, I don't even know your name."

"That's because my name isn't important. It's a shameful name that...I wouldn't dare curse you to hear." You raised your brow, not important? You wondered why. "But, I would like to know the name of the beautiful person who owns this place."

"Oh!" Your eyes widened, a soft smile gracing your features. "Y/N...but, it really isn't a shame that I can't know your name. Much less see whose behind the mask."

"I've done a lot of things but the last thing I'd do to you is defile your eyes by my face."

You crouched down beside him, chuckling a little. "You have a bit of an attitude but, I doubt whatever you look like could scare me."

He looked away "How flattering."

A comfortable silence fell between you two. You were still curious about the stranger who currently sat in your house, who had managed to find your village despite only meeting him once a few days ago. But...you supposed it was fairly easy to overlook things. After all, it was rather easy to become lonely in a house that you shared all on your lonesome.

.

.

.

"So...where are we going?"

"Foraging."

"Foraging for what?"

"Things,"

"Things like what?"

A smirk crept onto your lips when the stranger only groaned in response to your endless questions. Yet, you found no malice in it. The two of you had been growing closer as of late, at the start of every day. He'd leave for a few hours to train in the forest, commanding you not to follow him while assuring you that he would be back later. So far, he hasn't failed to live up to his words.

But...as of recently, the three days or so, he'd been coming home with gits. Sometimes it was flowers, other time money for you to buy things that you've been eyeing for a while or food! When he'd come back from his training, the two of you would talk about the day and what you'd both experienced. You'd have dinner prepared and he'd have a gift for you, as well as a story to "keep you entertained" as he'd like to put it.

It was rather domestic.

Each time the man brought you a gift, the foreign warm and full feeling in your chest would only grow.

"Do not be so nosy," He said, gently nudging you with his own body. "You'll enjoy foraging these flowers, I think they'd look nice in your home."

"Our." You corrected, causing him to slow down a little before he looked down at you.

"Our?"

You nodded your head. "Technically, right? You always return back there, did you even have a home before you met me?" You teased.

Immediately, the man looked away again with a grumble. "I did and do...but your home is closer. I...like it." From that comment alone, you could've sworn that the warm feeling in your chest...as well as your fondness for the man who you didn't even have a name to put to yet, the feeling grew just a little bit more.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Link to Part 2

[awkwardauthorwrites]

Fighter

Based on this request: Can you please write one Sebastian sallow X Reader. where the reader is known to be the most powerful dueler in the school, so the school sets a match between her house and another house but no one knows before the match she had a fight with seb making her lose all focus during the match causing whispers between the students knowing she never lost one before, and seb regreting the fight immediately after seeing her getting hurt and unable to focus and try to make amends after she loses despite her pushing him away.

Word Count: 3.4k

Themes: fluff, angst if you squint really hard, bad flirting written by a tired yours truly. Fem!Reader

Warnings: Potential spoilers for HL. As always, characters are in their seventh year and aged up to 18+. Physical violence (after a quick search, apparently the only form of fighting in a duel is magical, which means you can’t punch someone if you’ve been disarmed. There was however, no date to indicate how long this has been around, so I’ve taken some liberties). Also like one real swear word and a couple of everyday british insults I throw around daily

Also, if anyone’s curious, here’s the song I was listening to when the duel started

Y/N twirled her wand nervously between her fingers as Natty, Poppy and Imelda continued to speak excitedly from around her. She half-listened to them, throwing in a smile or laugh every-so-often when it called for it but her attention was elsewhere. More specifically, it was across the room watching the brunet man in green robes talk to a younger, animated Gryffindor next to an obscenely large blackboard. Y/N narrowed her eyes at Sebastian, who continued to talk to an overly-excited Lucan Brattleby as the latter collected money for the bets that were being placed tonight. 

Her eyes drifted to the board, satisfaction swelling in her once more as she looked over the tournament bracket which had eliminated more and more students until there were only four left standing, including her and Sebastian. She was due to duel Leander Prewett tonight, who sat on the other end of the hall from Y/N and occasionally looked over her way with a smug look on his face as if he had already won. He never did forgive her for calling him out back in fifth year and reminding him Sebastian was a better duellist. 

“Are you even listening to us?” Imelda waved a hand in front of Y/N’s face.

“Not particularly,” she offered her friend an overly sweet smile, knowing how to push her buttons. “Leander won’t stop staring.” The girls all looked at Leander in unison and Y/N didn’t have to watch Imelda to know she was sneering at him. She never did quite get over him badmouthing their house, or Sebastian (even though she would never admit it out loud).

“He’ll soon be sulking when he has to go up against you,” Natty nudged her gently, a grin on her face. “There’s a reason everyone has lost to you so far, you are a force to be reckoned with.”

“How positively Slytherin of you, I’m starting to think Imelda and I are bad influences,” Y/N laughed and shook her head. “I suppose Y/N the Invincible does have a nice ring to it.” 

Her gaze trailed to the opposite end of the room again as Natty and Imelda dove into a conversation about which title would be best for her when she won the Crossed Wands tournament, her wand still spinning in between her fingers. She caught Sebastian’s eye this time, her movements slowing as they stared at each other from across the room. He hardly acknowledged her before turning away and facing Ominis, who had come to support them both in tonight’s semi-finals. Sebastian had not long finished his duel against Charlotte Morrison and it came to no surprise that he had won.

“Are you both still fighting?” Poppy asked her quietly, trying not to attract the attention of the girls who sat with them. 

“Apparently,” Y/N sniffed in annoyance and looked away from Sebastian as he laughed loudly at something Ominis said to him. 

“What even happened between the two of you?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.” Y/N wasn’t being obtuse, she truly didn’t know how things had escalated so badly between them. Those who knew they weren’t speaking were surprised - Y/N had always come across as patient and understanding, and more than forgiving to those who didn’t deserve it. Only the people closest to her knew how quick she was to react behind closed doors.

She sighed and rolled her shoulders, itching for the duel for Leander so that she could release some of the pent up frustrations that had been brewing within her for the past few days. She supposed it was a little unfair to take her annoyance at Sebastian out on Leander, but every time the latter smirked at her she felt the guilt ease a little. Prick, she watched as he pretended to flex his muscles to the group of Gryffindors he was sitting with. As if she hadn’t already beat him in the very same tournament last year or the year before that.

“Duellists, take your positions!” Lucan called out. Poppy, Imelda and Natty all squeezed her arm in reassurance and wished her luck before making their way to the doorway of the bell tower clockyard where the gate would keep them safe from any errant spells.

“Good luck, Y/N,” Ominis grinned at her as she neared him and Sebastian. “I’d say I can’t wait to see you thrash Prewett but well…” She laughed and let him grasp her shoulder. “I’ve got a lot of money on you.”

“No pressure then.” Her eyes wandered to Sebastian, who was standing next to his best friend. He looked away as he caught her gaze, hands stuffed into his pockets.

“Come on, Ominis. We need to get behind the gate.”

“Are you not going to wish Y/N good luck Sebastian?” Ominis tilted his head in his direction, a small smirk playing on the corner of his mouth. Prat. Sebastian looked at her from the corner of his eye and let out a quiet sigh. 

“Good luck, Y/L/N.”

“I’ll see you in the finals, Sallow.” She watched as he rolled his eyes at her words and turned to leave without another word, tugging Ominis in the right direction gently. 

“Are you ready, Y/N?” Lucan asked her, his eyes darting between her and Sebastian’s retreating figure. Lucan, like everyone, was more than curious to know what had happened between the pair, but was smart enough not to ask her directly - there was a reason he organised her duels instead of battling against her. He couldn’t help but grimace as he looked over to Leander to check if he was ready, Y/N was going to eat him alive if he kept on sneering at her like that. “No funny business,” he looked pointedly at Y/N, who gave him an innocent smile in response, and turned to walk behind the barrier and closed the gate.

“You can give up now, Y/L/N,” Leander called out to her, “no harm in conceding.”

“I thought you Gryffindors loved a good fight. Not quite a victory if you win by default, is it Prewett?” Y/N laughed as Leander snarled and shot a disarming charm her way. She didn’t even need to deflect it with protego, she simply stepped aside and let the spell fizzle against the wall behind her. “You’re going to have to do better than that if you want to finally beat me.”

“Shut up!” he snapped, sending a barrage of spells her way. Y/N flung a quick shield up, gritting her teeth in concentration as a range of charms and jinxes were flung at her. He didn’t give her a chance to retaliate, going full on offensive due to his anger at her. Her shield finally shattered as he shot another disarming charm at her, a smug grin on his features as it clattered uselessly and rolled away behind her. “What are you going to do now? Can’t fight without a wand.”

“Can’t I?” Y/N smirked at him and levitated him with a wave of her hand.

“You’re not supposed to use your abilities!” Leander protested, legs flailing as he hovered midair.

“Oh, I’m not. It’s called wandless magic, Prewett. Something you’d be able to do if you actually paid attention in class.” With that Y/N cast a summoning spell on him, pulling him right up in front of her before punching him square in the face. Leander spluttered as he fell to the floor, one sleeve of his robe holding his now bloody nose. 

“You hit me!” he looked over at Lucan, who looked just as stunned by her decision. “Surely that isn’t allowed?”

“I…” Lucan looked at a loss for words. “I don’t know! No one’s ever resorted to physical violence before!” Lucan looked up at Sebastian, who just shrugged at him. 

“Disqualify her!”

“Don’t you dare!” Imelda, Poppy and Natty all glared at Lucan, who looked very uncomfortable with everyone watching him for an answer. Y/N shook her hand out and took the opportunity to grab her wand as she waited for Lucan to decide if she was disqualified or not. She wouldn’t apologise for resulting to physical violence (I literally just set him on fire, how is punching him any worse) she would be rather annoyed if she was removed from the tournament. She and Sebastian had a running tally over the past few years on which one of them was the best duellist in the school, and if she lost to him this year because of this…he would never let her live it down. If he decided to speak to her, that is.

She looked over at him as Lucan took a moment to deliberate her fate with Leander still whining in the background on how she might have broken his nose. He was already staring at her, arms crossed, and an expression on his face that she couldn’t quite read from this distance. Her stomach flipped uselessly as she refused to break eye contact with him, silently challenging him to look away first. She watched as Ominis muttered something to him, presumably asking what was going on, and he replied without looking away. 

She raised one of her eyebrows, silently questioning him if they were still arguing. He gave her a flat look as if to say what do you think before finally breaking away and turning to speak to Ominis. Y/N felt her eyes burn in frustration as she turned her back on him and instead watched the pendulum for the clock tower swing back and forth slowly. How was she supposed to fix things between them when she didn’t even know what she did wrong? She knew she wasn’t guiltless in their fight - they had both snapped some particularly awful things at each other - but she didn’t know how to approach him so they could settle this. For all of the good qualities Y/N could list about Sebastian (and there were many) he was as stubborn as a mule and refused to see when he was in the wrong.

“The fight will continue!” Lucan called out, breaking her from her thoughts. “Just…maybe don’t do that again, will you Y/N?” Leander protested loudly at allowing her to continue, but the noise was drowned out by the loud cheers coming from the group that had come to support her. She watched in amusement as Poppy pulled Lucan into a hug and his face went an impressive shade of red that revealed the colour of his robes. “I suppose I need to add that going forward all duels will be fought with magic only, and no physical contact will be tolerated.” He looked up at Sebastian again, who nodded in confirmation - not that he would ever lay a hand on her (or any woman for that matter). 

Y/N couldn’t concentrate as the duel picked back up and barely managed to protect herself from yet another disarming charm that Leander shot her way, as if he weren’t already aware that she could do wandless magic. She was thoroughly distracted by her silent interaction with Sebastian, the words from their previous fight clouding her judgement. She couldn’t believe this had all come from a stupid, simple misunderstanding.

Y/N felt her wand fly from her hand moments before she flew backwards and she collided with some of the training dummies Lucan had tucked into the corner of the room. She clutched at her stomach as she rolled into her knees, wincing slightly as pain lanced up her side. There was a loud ringing in her ears from the blast, and she could barely hear Leander cheering from the other end of the hall, boasting on how he had managed to beat one of Hogwarts top duellists.

“Y/N!” Her vision swam as someone in a green cloak pressed a Wiggenweld potion to her lips, their hand resting lightly on her back as more people crowded around them. “Give her some air, back off!” She would recognise Sebastian’s voice anywhere.

“I’m fine, give me a minute.” She tried to shrug him off, but only succeeded in tilting to the left haphazardly. She felt Sebastian grab her elbow before she could hit her head again and pull her towards him, her head coming to rest on his shoulder as the room spun around her. “Why are you helping me?” She could hear Natty and Poppy shoo everyone off to give her some space and there was no mistaking Imelda’s angry voice from the other end of the room, berating Leander for his abysmal showmanship.

“Do you think just because we had a stupid argument I would stop caring for you?” Sebastian gently touched the back of her head, looking for signs of a welt or a bump. 

“I was horrid to you.”

“I wasn’t exactly the nicest myself,” he murmured. Y/N waited a couple of more minutes for the dizziness to subside, her fingers fiddling with Sebastian’s sleeve as she listened to his thundering heartbeat.

“Your heart is beating so fast.” 

“Yes well, I did just watch you get flung thirty feet across a room as if you were a ragdoll.”

“I’m okay,” Y/N tilted her head to look up at him with a small smile. The potion had made its way through her body and it no longer hurt every time she breathed. “You worry too much.”

“I think I worry about you just the right amount,” he scoffed, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I’m going to have a conniption one of these days because of you.”

“Won’t that be a sight,” she teased, laughing quietly. She could feel him chuckle silently beside her and let her eyes slip closed once more. 

“Did the potion not work? Do I need to take you to Blainey?”

“No, no, I’m fine. I’m just enjoying the moment.”

“Here in my arms, you mean?”

“No, you prick,” she rolled her eyes at him and gently flicked his knee. “I meant without everyone breathing down my neck to see if I’m alright.”

“Ah, well, I think they’re a little scared of your reaction to be honest. No one’s ever seen you lose a duel before.”

“I can’t believe Prewett beat me,” she groaned, burying her head in the crook of Sebastian’s neck. “As if he wasn’t insufferable before. I shouldn’t have let myself become so distracted.”

“I saw the change in you when the duel picked back up; what were you thinking about?”

“You.”

“Me?” Sebastian looked down at her. “Don’t tell me you got hurt because you were too busy thinking about our fight.” He groaned as she shrugged casually and took her head in his hands gently. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“For the fight or because I got hurt during a wizard duel?”

“Both,” he replied seriously, brushing some hair from her eyes. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to approach you and apologise all day. I was going to do it before our duels but I let my pride get the best of me.”

“I’m well aware of the pitfalls of Slytherin pride, thank you very much.” Y/N took his hands from her face and held them between her own. “I’ve been doing the same thing. I tried to get here before your duel with Charlotte so I could apologise, but I was too late. You looked even more annoyed that I missed your fight so I stayed away.”

“We make quite a pair.”

“Don’t we?” Y/n smiled coyly at him before sighing loudly (and rather dramatically, Sebastian thought). “Leander fucking Prewett. I’ll have to go into hiding from the shame. Will you avenge me?”

“Of course,” Sebastian laughed at her theatrics, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “I’ll fight valiantly in your honour.”

“To the death?”

“If you want.”

“Hm.” She pretended to think about it, tapping her chin lightly. “No, not to the death. I couldn’t bear it if your pretty face was sent to Azkaban.”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way to talk them out of sending me there. You already have once.”

“On second thought, maybe I’ll let you rot there for the rest of your life just for the sheer audacity.”

“You’d miss me and my pretty face too much,” Sebastian grinned and pulled her closer until she was sitting between his legs. “If it helps, I think you’re rather beautiful too.”

“I didn’t say I found you beautiful.”

“Not directly to me, no,” he leant in so he could whisper in her ear, “but you girls aren’t as quiet as you think you are when you start discussing which wizards in the school are attractive. For the record, I find it a little offensive that you think I would be so smug about it.”

“Aren’t you?” Y/N pulled back so she could read his expression. “Anyway, you know you’re attractive, you don’t need me to tell you.”

“No, but it would be nice.”

“In your dreams, Sallow.”

“You? Constantly, yes.” Sebastian grinned at the blush that came to her cheeks and couldn’t help but press a sweet kiss to her face. “As much as I enjoy flirting with you while we sit here, I should probably let the girls come and check on you now.”

“This was you flirting? I never would have been able to tell.” She shot him a sly smile and let him pull her to her feet slowly, taking note of his hands that hovered cautiously in case she showed any signs of her previous lightheadedness. Y/N would deny it if anyone asked - especially Sebastian - but she may have clutched onto his toned bicep as they stood, feigning a slight wobble so that he would wrap an arm around her waist to steady her.

“You don’t need to fall to my feet, darling, you already have my attention.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“I think you meant to say dashingly handsome.”

“You’re alright.”

“Would it kill you to compliment me one time? I did just technically save you.”

“From Leander,” Y/N scoffed. She watched as he pretended to look put out with her and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “My hero, however will I repay you?” she batted her eyelashes at him playfully, and Sebastian could feel his heartbeat pick up at the smile that she was giving him, which was anything but innocent. He couldn’t help but look down at her lips, wondering if he would get a smack from her for even daring to take a glance.

Y/N was more than aware of what he was thinking, she had practically seen the words well I can think of a few things as he looked down at her mouth. A part of her was aware that their friends still lingered in the room after clearing everyone out, but she didn’t really care who was watching as she stood on the tips of her toes and pressed her lips to Sebastian’s softly. She felt his arms tighten around her, pulling her closer as he kissed her back.

“You both disgust me.” Y/N heard both Poppy and Natty shush Imelda rather loudly and felt her face flush as she reluctantly pulled away from the kiss. Sebastian followed her, chasing her lips so that he could continue to kiss her, much to Imelda’s displeasure. With a red face, Y/N pressed her face to Sebastian’s chest, laughing quietly as she heard Poppy explain to Ominis what the fuss was about. 

“We need new friends,” Sebastian muttered in her ear. Y/N didn’t agree as she turned to look at the group watching them. Despite Imelda’s protests, all three of the witches had large grins plastered on their faces, and even Ominis looked happy for them (if a little red in the face at their public display of affection). Sebastian pressed a sweet kiss to her temple, muttering a request for them to sneak away together to continue their session away from prying eyes and as Y/N took his hand so that he could lead her away she found that she didn’t even care that she had lost the duel to Leander. Besides, she could always get him back next time.

[yaut-jaknowit]

BRO I LOVED THE SIZE KINK YOU WROTE BASED OFF OF MY POST😩🙏🙏 literally been constantly reading it i’m so obsessed. I literally have so many mlm ideas from angst to nsfw so I can spam your inbox if you want (or dm’s if you wanna be moots)💀✋

BUT LIKE- imagine male reader soldier x male yautja where the reader had been off radar for a few months with their mate worrying only for the reader to return with new scars and a mechanical arm because he lost his real one during war😩

And then on god the yautja would be pissed asf because he was worried the reader was dead 😭✋

Return to Him

Pairing: Mai'tuiudh (Male Yautja) x Male Reader

Word Count: 2063

Summary: Four months isn't a long time to be away from home. Yet, everything that has occured during that time made it seem like years. Years since you last saw Mai, your beloved. You wished to see him, to ensure to him you were alright. Just a bit beaten up and newly scarred. This Yautja isn't liking the unfamiliar feeling of worry. That doesn't stop him from feeling that way. Nothing would.

Author Note: This one made me think a bit. I'm not used to these kinds of requests or prompts, not complaining though! Loving the prompts! Also, to those who requested something. It's going to take a little bit to get to those. Christmas time is very busy. I have three families to visit and my brother came into town after moving away four months ago.

I'm so glad you enjoyed that! I was a little worried since it was out of my knowledge. You can do whatever you want. I don't mind being mutuals. I will let you know that I'm bad a responding though, lol. I'm up to anything you want within reason, of course! Throw them at me.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

Masterlist

Ao3

A ding behind him made the Yautja whip around in his chair to find a disappointing screen. Mai snarled lowly to himself and banged a fist against the armrest. He had set up a diagnostic to search through your government’s database for anything on you. It came up empty handed, nothing new about your location.

He felt his spine bristle at the thought. Where were you? A few buttons were harshly pressed on his dashboard. The ship you sometimes called home hummed louder before changing directions. Mai abruptly stood up and marched out of the room.

If your government doesn’t know where you were then, he was going to search for you personally. Earth may be large, though not as massive as Yautja Prime, that wouldn’t stop him. This Yautja wasn’t going to coward away at a challenge. It was in his blood to hunt. That’s what made him, well, him. He was a fighter and would never think about backing down from a challenge.

Though, it would take time to reach earth without eating up his low fuel reserves. To hide away from detection from your government’s space program, he flew into Neptune’s gravitational pull. His ship was pulled in and forced to orbit. Mai had to play smart, be a hunter without distraction. That’s the only way he would be able to find you without getting caught. That would ruin the double life you live. One Mai’tuiudh will never understand. The Yautja shook his head, tresses swaying as he passed through the short hall to the sparing room.

To pass the time, Mai’s going to work off some pent-up steam. Your time away from the brute has caused some unnecessary stress on his weary bones. He needed to relieve himself of it.

His muscles rippled, fist meeting reenforced leather. Mai’s mandibles pulled close. A hunter’s focus craved into his face. Eyes keen and moves precise. The hit was probably harsher than it needed to be against an unalive object. Yet, Mai’tuiudh didn’t care. If that’s what helped relieve the stress within his bones. Then, that’s what needed to be done. He needs to a take stop at his mother ship anyhow for supplies and whatnot. Check in so no one thinks he’s dead.

That would mean he’ll have to leave for about two weeks. Space travel wasn’t always the quickest, especially with low reserves. Plus, Mai will be forced to make rounds around the ship. He may not be an important figure; it was customary to check in hunting brothers and sisters. Find out who’s dead and who lives. Everything that make’s living as a Yautja, Yautja.

.

When your feet hit dry, dusty soil, you cringed. Dust from the vehicles stopping behind you blew over to you. It forced you to close your eyes and hope for its quick pass.

Once it had left, you carefully made your way to the back of the unsuspecting black SUV. The driver was swift to hop out, scrambling after you. “Sir! I can-can get th-hat for you,” the rookie stated and attempted to move past you. Your uninjured arm shot out and stopped him taking another step.

Without a single sound, you stepped up to the tailgate and simply opened it. The rookie shifted his weight frequently and arms straight at his side. His eyes were on you though, flickering all over the place on the view before him.

On the other hand, you slung the mildly heavy bag on your shoulder. It pulled at the muscles on your other… arm. Your face scrunched up at the sudden pain but not a noise made it past your lips. Years of training and all make a fine soldier. You just got to beat the human out of him.

The rookie stood there, eyes watching as your tired, used body limbed past him. One of his arms hesitantly reached to grasp at you but one side stepped easily dodged the rookie. He just stared at your leaving form, gaze dipping down at the unmatched color on your right hand. Then they were locked onto the back of your camouflaged jacket molded to your shape.

Your apartment’s door slammed heavy behind you, the noise causing you no disturbance. Even the headache swallowing you barely increased at the sound. Instead, you let your bag slide off of your shoulder and on the ground. It made a soft noise, the only one in your quiet apartment.

It hadn’t been that long since you’ve last stepped foot in here. Not longer than four months. Yet, with all that has occurred within that time frame, it felt like years.

One thing after another happened out there, facing the enemies your country makes you fight. The demons. All for what? Losing amazing people or causing unnecessary trauma and bodily harm on the soldiers that defend this nation. You sighed, shoulders sagging before shuffling into your room and flicked on the light.

Nothing had been moved. Light dust had settled on everything you owned. The room was still in the state as long before. Clothes thrown haphazardly on the floor; bed unmade; empty glass of water on your nightstand; one curtain open will the other was drawn to the halfway point.

Wait a minute. You rubbed at your eyes with an uninjured fist. The bed. It was in a different position than you last remember. What you remembered was the long body pillow was across the top of the bed, against the headboard. It had been moved to be parallel with the long part of the bed. At first, you were on verge of freaking out. Your brain taking a few extra seconds to realize what that could mean.

One: someone broke into his apartment, acted like a complete fool, and slept in your bed. Or two: Mai slept in your bed, to probably smell your scent. You did leave without much of an explanation. The base called and you were shipped off that same day. A single message of you being safe was all you could get out to him. Mai’s probably searching for you or waiting close by. It all depends on if he found out what you were doing and where you were.

With a heavy sigh, you stripped yourself down to just your underwear. A chilling breeze washed over your skin, causing you to shiver. You simple tipped over and landed face first on the bed. The sheets were cool to the touch. A deep breath brought a faint scent of Mai to your noise. Your body relaxed completely at the scent. Next, you were out like a light bulb.

Through deadened sleep, the slamming of your porch sliding glass door snapped you groggily away. Your head shook to rid away some of the tiredness still within your bones. The blankets that once covered you had been kicked off sometime during sleep. You were on the verge of getting to check what had made that noise. That something had different plans.

The door to your bedroom was forced open, crashing into the wall. It probably left a mark that you could worry about later. Military or not, you were exhausted and currently in pain. You just stared through the darkness at what had made that noise.

Heavy, familiar pants could be heard before you. It took a long moment for you brain to realize what that could mean. In the meantime, the blob form standing in your doorway launched at you.

Large, calloused hands wrapped around your wrist from what you could feel. The heavy frame pinned you on your back, arms pinned above your head. Heat rolled over you. The calming smell of him filled your lungs. Something warm and felt like fingertips grazed over the naked skin of your chest. You didn’t fight, not just because of the exhaustion. No, it was due to the fact you knew who it was.

As you longed to bring the Yautja into a kiss, your arms were trapped. That’s when you finally noticed the pain burning in your right shoulder. “Mai, let go please. You’re hurting me,” you demanded and started to wiggle underneath the fully armored male. An extra added fifty pounds from his armor and biomask.

The Yautja reeled back his mighty head, tresses slapping against his armored chest. Then, Mai quickly lifted his body weight off of you. The air around you tasted strange. Not in a bad way. It unnerved him nevertheless though. Mai tilted his head, biomask scanning over your frame.

Multiple new injures, most fully healed. Where had you gone?! Then, Mai caught sight of something that wasn’t normal, that wasn’t there before. His hand grasped at the metal attached to your right arm.

It was cool in hold. The gears inside pitched a high noise as they moved within. Mai brought his face close and took in its smell. The skin on upper, inner mouth crinkled at the horrible smell. Not that you could see though with his biomask.

Since he had released you, you brought a hand up to his face and shivered at cold metal. “Take it off,” you ordered of him. Mai listened without hesitancy. The tubes connected to his biomask hissed as they were disconnected. It was ripped from his alien face thrown off to the side on the bed.

Without another second apart, you wrapped both of your arms around him. All of your strength was used to keep him like that. Not that Mai’tuiudh was complaining. Not with you in his arms. Instead, he buried his mandibles in the crook of your neck and licked. Mai groaned at your missed taste. Your last message to him had him… worried. A feeling that wasn’t very Yautja. That didn’t stop him from feeling that way without you being at his side.

To be honest, it felt like the fullest of hunting grounds with you in his arms. Your warmth against him; hearing your heartbeat; smelling you. He wouldn’t let you go, even if this position was making his back due to the strange angle and added weight.

Mai pulled his head back to stare you in the eye through the darkness. “What happened to you?” You knew immediately what he was reference towards and turned on the light on your nightstand. This lit up your newly marred skin to him. The scars were a fresh pink. Mai’s pupils narrowed down and scanned over them, hands coming up to stroke them.

“Careful, they’re still sensitive,” you said, sounding distant. The memories were still fresh but you didn’t want to think about them. Your hand carefully caressed a tress as a distraction.

Next, he motioned with his head towards your metal right arm. Before he could ask about that one, you beat him to it. “I’d rather not go into detail. Let’s just say I lost a fight,” is what you told him. You still couldn’t believe what had happened. Your arm gone. Missing. Replaced by metal.

Anger dribbled into Mai’s system as he stared down at you. “Why did you leave?” he hissed out and forced himself all the closer. You sighed, head falling to the side.

“I was summoned for an operation. It was sudden. I had little time to get ready, let alone send that message to you,” you explained and relaxed your sore arms. Mai changed his position. He forced your legs apart and shuffle closer, bottom of your thighs resting on top of his. His chest to yours, face reburied into the crook of your neck. A growl vibrated your ribcage.

Sharp claws bit into the flesh of your skin. The pain barely noticeable over the already existing one. “Worry isn’t something a Yautja feels.” Mai paused to somehow shift even closer into your body. “You made me worry if you were dead or alive. Don’t do that again.” He stopped again, the gears inside of his mind working. “You know what, you won’t be given an opportunity. You’re staying with me, all the time.”

“What?!” you shouted and wiggled against him, but unable to escape. “You can’t do that Mai! I have a life here, a job, all that stuff.”

It was like he wasn’t listening to you. “Mine,” he snarled into your skin and tightened his hold. There was a chance of freedom at the moment. You were stuck for better or worse.

[thathomestar]

dragon's dogma 2 thoughts so far, roughly 7 hours in:

out in the field, performance is mostly fine. it dips for me sometimes but it stays around 60 fps for the most part. being in the big city is rough, there's like 150 npcs all walking around doing their own thing and it makes the game chug, on my pc it drags it down to 30 fps average, sometimes 20 fps at the lowest points. they really need to clean that up.

i've just been playing fighter so far, and i'm enjoying the new combat system. it feels a lot looser than dd1, the soft lockon from dd1 is even softer. getting staggered and stunlocked by enemies is a real threat, you take much longer to recover from getting knocked over than you did in dd1. the revamped heavy attack button being more used for dealing decisive high damage hits on staggered or stunned enemies is such a good idea.

they swapped the buttons for block and special sword attacks and that kept throwing me off at first lol. perfect parry timing feels about the same as it did in dd1. you can actually use your heavy attack while mounting a monster without instantly jumping off, it's great. my pawn is an archer and honestly i think she does more dps than me sometimes, she's come in clutch so many times already.

the main kicker i've been feeling is the how they treat your health pool. in dd1 you could just spam consumables to cure your health back to maximum at any time, but they've changed how it works here in dd2. now, whenever you take damage, you lose a tiny bit of your max hp. whether a mage casts a heal or you drink a potion, you can't get all the way back up to full until you rest at an inn or a campsite. so now you play a longer-term game of "do i go find a camp and rest to full or do i go fight this ogre at 50% max hp". i enjoy being stupid so i tend to not rest until i absolutely have to lol.

you can actually preview which vocations have what augments now, which saves a trip opening up a browser and searching for that info. you do have to unlock warrior and sorcerer as well as the other new vocations, but warrior and sorcerer was literally "go to a cave, kill some goblins, get the stolen weapons back, ok you're good to go now". took like 30 mins after reaching the big city.

i have encountered every single microtransaction item within the first 5 hours of playing. they mostly either cost gold or rift crystals, and are relatively cheap. i got a camping kit for free for reaching the first oxcart. i got the harpy lure for free by helping a random person out and about. i've gotten four wakestones already. the microtransactions are stupid and so obviously mandated by some dinosaur executive but you're an even bigger moron if you think any of this stuff is meaningful or locked-off content.

uhh what else. turning your lantern on and off is nice and quick. your pawns actually talk amongst each other now. i don't know how different the inclination system is yet so i don't know if doing the d-pad pawn commands changes them. those commands seem to actually work properly now though. ran away from a fight and told my pawns "to me!" and they actually disengaged the fight and ran with me, so that's nice. don't like the music as much as the first game so far, we'll see how it fares once i actually fight a monster bigger than a cyclops.