#Jasper Dent

[honeyszyr]

finished aftg and i hunt killers trilogy

A little crossover with my traumatized boys

[w0rm-3nthus14st]

idk im tired man

[arcticmist0324]

The real question I have about the United Healthcare/Mangione case is if the Monopoly theme is intentional and if he (or whoever the mastermind is) has read Barry Lyga’s “I Hunt Killers” trilogy-specifically the second book Game.

[jasperfrancisdent-archive]

best thing I’ve received from someone on Easter honestly, super excited to read

[arithespacealien]

The I Hunt Killers fandom keeps dragging me back, screaming and clawing the dirt-

I regret binging the I Hunt Killers trilogy so quickly because now I seriously miss these kids haha

Howie is so tall he changed the composition of this drawing. Amazing. 

[blackjack-tempest]

I’m so excited to have a physical copy of the prequels!! Fave trilogy of all time! I may or may not have talked my brother into reading them just so I have someone to rave about it with lol🫢

[dyxtd21]

The Ancient Attainment:

(Chapter 6)

(Monday 1st, June, 20XX, 7:30pm)

"Ladies, gentlemen, non-binary and LGBTQ community folks! Welcome to tonight's game show: The Quantum Quiz Sho-"

The TV was turned off and a low growl escaped from an ominous and enigmatic shadowed figure. He was currently sitting down on a tall office chair and he looked severely unhappy, which was a statement. He seethed with anger.

"Can you believe it?! They cancelled me on just the first season of the show! How could they?!"

The voice of the figure yelled out in anger as he threw the remote, and it forcefully hit the screen of the TV, breaking it.

He heard a shuffle of footsteps and a deep voice speaking up behind him: "Nice throw, Silica~"

The figure, known as Quantum Quattro Silica, turned his office chair around and was met with the only figure he deeply respected: Red Jasper, the spy, and agent.

Red Jasper's appearance was charming and alluring. Tall, athletic, with a nicely fitted suit, shirt, trousers, solid Oxfords, a watch, and his gun, which was always by his side, holstered on his left hip. Red Jasper was a gemstone, and his unique feature of his appearance was his whole colouration, which was a dark red. Everything about him, including his attire and gun, was dark red, but he looked as if he would be everybody's type, which he was. In addition, Red Jasper's gemstone, a square-cut, was located on his upper back.

Quantum Quattro Silica, on the other hand, was tall, at 7'0", and lean. He wore a lovely 1960s suit, trousers, solid Oxfords, and a tie. The coat ends of his suit were elongated, up to the back of his thighs. Like Red Jasper, he, too, was a gemstone, which was trilliant-cut and on the back of his neck, and he, too, had two unique features:

His flat TV screen for a head. Unlike anybody else with a human-like head, Quantum's was the appearance of a flat TV screen. His head was able to showcase anything and everything which, currently, was showcasing his "face", with the lack of a nose and eyebrows, of course. His "face" consists of a wide, unsettling smile filled with sharp, pointy teeth and piercing, wide, unblinking eyes. In addition, Quantum was able to turn his head in a 360-degree angle, like an owl.

His whole coloration. Quantum's whole coloration was a light blue with silver accents here and there. This color palette looked pleasing to some.

Red Jasper was one of Quantum's creations, meaning that Quantum was a one of the Elites, a 2nd high ranked gemstone. They had more power, more abilities, more influence, and they were able to create other gemstones of their kind, a trait which was only severed for the Elites and no one else.

Red Jasper took a seat opposite Quantum.

"So, you're still upset that they cancelled you?"

Quantum's right eye twitched as Red Jasper just said that. The nerve of Red Jasper.

"Being upset is an understatement. I'm fucking seething with range!" Quantum said with an angry tone.

As if on cue, Quantum's TV head started to glitch out, and small sparks began to fly out from it, falling on the carpeted floor and causing small fires.

Red Jasper, seeing this and seeing that Quantum was stuck glitching out, rushed to action. He took steps to where Quantum was seated and placed both of his hands onto Quantum's shoulders. He then spoke in a soft and soothing voice.

"Deep breathes, Quantum. We'll figure things out and we'll make them pay for cancelling you and your show."

After he heard Red Jasper's soft and soothing voice, Quantum immediately stopped glitching out and returned to his normal self.

"You're right. We'll make them pay for cancelling me and my show. Nobody, and I mean nobody, cancels the great game show host, Quantum Quattro Silica!" Quantum spoke in a high pitched voice and letting out an evil laugh, with his unsettling smile filled with sharp and pointy teeth widening more creepily and menacingly.

The fires from Quantum's sparks continued to grow. Red Jasper saw this.

"We should put these out." Red Jasper said in a nonchalant voice, as if he was used to fires and putting them out, which he was.

Quantum merely scoffed and waved his hand around in the air. A sign of 'let it go'. Seeing this, Red Jasper stopped and stayed put.

"Let them be. This isn't my office anyway." Quantum said with a mischievous tone in his voice.

"Besides, I have a wonderful plan in mind. I heard that Bixbyite is back. This means opportunities." Quantum continued as he began to stand up and circle Red Jasper slowly. He then touched Red Jasper's hair. Red Jasper didn't mind the touch. He knew his place whenever it came to his creator.

"So, you know then? Bixbyite isn't the only one who has returned. His creations also have returned, but there are...others who have returned." Red Jasper said as he watched Quantum circle him, touching his hair, while the fires kept growing.

"Who else? Pietersite or Mystic Topaz?" Quantum spoke with an unbothered tone as he turned around and took some papers of the office desk, throwing them in the fire.

"No, Zebra Jasper. Along with his romantic partners, the hot-shot lawyer, Pyrope, and the imperfect perfect dualed criminal, Ametrine." Red Jasper revealed to Quantum.

When Quantum heard the name 'Zebra Jasper', he froze in place and began to get angry but tried his best to surpass it. He turned his TV head in a 90-degree angle to look at Red Jasper without turning his whole body.

"Zebra Jasper... this could get risky, but I do want to see him kneel before me after I defeat him. I want the same power and influence as he has. What about his partners? Pyrope and that Ametrine one?" Quantum asked.

"Well, it's an interesting story. Pyrope has been invited by the one and only millionaire playboy, Bruce Wayne, to a charity gala of his and Ametrine...last thing I heard, he was trying to get caught by Two-Face and get information from him." Red Jasper explained and answered. The fires burning even higher as of now, but they didn't harm both Quantum nor Red Jasper.

"I see, and this is what we shall do. I shall go after Pyrope. He's tough, but he's nothing compared to an Elite, and I'll get information from him about Zebra Jasper and his plans while you shall go after Ametrine and stop him from getting any information out from Two-Face, understood?" Quantum asked Red Japer.

Red Jasper nodded, and he easily jumped out of the window, running to do his duty. Quantum let out a small 6 he watched the fires continue to burn. After a while, he turned and walked out of the office, whispering to himself:

"Prepare to have your final cheer and applause, Zebra Jasper. You don't know what's about to happen..."

[pboogerswbb]

SO IT GOES - chapter 14

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, sexual language, arguing and emotional abuse, ANGST (I HAVE NOT PROOFREAD THIS GUYS OK) Wordcount: 5,8K A/C: SHE'S BAACK, thank you for being so patient and understanding because this has been a long time coming. I'm sure you guys probably feel the same when i say my life for the past couple weeks has been consumed by hoops so i've been writing less. i'm back on that grind tho. in 24 hours paige's last game as a husky will be over and my god, i can't even put into words how badly i want this for her, for all of them. she's earned that natty and i truly believe that we can get it. i have her to thank for all of this - each and every one of you. i love writing and i never thought so many people would enjoy my writing. it's completely transferred my dream of writing a book someday from a childish fantasy to reality. seeing all of you enjoy my writing has CHANGED MY LIFE and it's all thanks to you and this blonde basketball player. i'm so grateful for her and she deserves everything. please Lord, give it to her <3 i love all of you ty for bearing with me.

flashbacks are in italics, as always

-

Before London

The dents on the pillow have formed a pattern on my cheek, pressed tightly on the light pink cotton. It takes me a moment to remember the reason behind the burning of my eyes, or why my cheeks feel wet. Oh right. My memory soon returns, the tightening in my chest reminding me of my brother’s silhouette narrowing in the airport as he walked away. Perhaps I wouldn’t have been so upset, but it was a hard day. A day I just wanted to be over. My wedding day. Or what would’ve been if it hadn’t been for that day in February, where I finally mustered up the nerve to pack my bags.

My joints ache again, and instinctually my arm reaches for Paige, for comfort, for the person who had become my home. But she’s not there. I can’t feel the weight of her anywhere on the couch. Opening my eyes, I look around adjusting to the afternoon light.

“Paige?” I mutter, sitting up and rubbing my tired eyes. The humming of the AC is all that answers my call. Confused, I wrap my cardigan around me tighter, tip toeing on the cool hardwood, looking for any sign of the blonde. I check the kitchen, the bathroom - no one. The bedroom door is ajar, an ominous sign of something coming. The gentle drizzle outside taps against the window, taunting me. 

“Baby?” I ask, my stomach stirring already. The uneasy silence responds again. Pushing the door open, I reveal an empty room left just as I did this morning. Until my green eyes travel to the bed, a cream coloured card placed neatly on the sheets. I’d recognise the card anywhere. Still, before I can think my feet walk to the edge of the bed, eyes welling up before my mind comprehends what’s happened. 

“Paige?” I cry out again, my voice shaking and weaker than before, eyes staring at the wedding invite laid out on the striped cotton of the sheets. I couldn’t tell why I called out her name, I knew she wasn’t there. That she’d be far gone, furious. It’s what Paige did, hid the big emotions with anger and a temper.

My shaky hands reach for my phone. Texts from Trey, Lala, my brother telling me he made his layover. None from the person I missed. I stand there, staring at the wall, calling over and over. Must have been five or six times before I give up and throw the phone on the bed. Screw this. 

Sliding my slippers on, I hurry out the flat, making up the flight of stairs until I’m behind that all too familiar door above mine, knocking on it urgently. My body works as if on autopilot, I’m not thinking anything through. I’m not even sure what I’d say if she opened the door. What was there to say?

I’d love to tell Paige there was no reason why I never told her I was engaged. That it was just a minor detail I had forgotten about. But considering all our conversations surrounding my life and Jasper, it only dawned on me now that not telling her had been a calculated move on my part. Frankly, because, as much as it scared me to admit, I felt ashamed. Paige thought so highly of me - selfishly I enjoyed it. If she knew I was about to marry the man that treated me like shit, I’m sure she’d never think of me the same. Maybe she might even realise she could get away with treating me like that too. I knew if I showed my true self, she would never be with me. She would never love me. No one could ever love me. This I knew as surely as I knew the sun rises in the east and sets in the west.

-

My watery eyes glance at the clock on the wall. 5:48PM. He’d be home any minute. I rub my chest in circular, smoothing motion. Like my mom used to. Calm down Zari. With shaky hands I keep throwing clothing after clothing into different bags, yellow, beige, red fabrics flying around the room. There’s no time to zip them up, I had to leave. I knew if he showed up I’d become aware of how truly weak I am. I’ll never get away unless I leave now.

I carry three bags downstairs, overflowing with makeup, photo albums, everything I deemed important. The set of plates I spent a fortune on seemed irrelevant right now. I lean over the small notebook on the table by the front door, tears wetting the page. I flip a new one.

Gripping onto the pen like a lifeline, I scribble the words that were true.

We weren’t made for this Jasper. I’m sorry.

Lower lip trembling, the memories of this very notebook fill my head. The way the loving, gentle notes of a young happy couple turned bitter and violent so suddenly. I didn’t understand what happened. Jasper was always kind, gentle, patient but the moment we moved in together, it’s like a new Jasper appeared. Narcissistic, manipulative, controlling, gaslighting. I knew all this - I knew he was all those things. Still, I loved him. More than anything.

As I slide the gold engagement ring off my slender finger, the sound of a key sliding into the lock interrupts my thoughts.

“Hey Zari, I got some Chine-” Jasper murmurs, suddenly stopping when he sees the scene. It doesn’t take him long to put the pieces together, the last omen the engagement ring sitting pretty on the side table.

“What is going on?”

I quickly wipe tears away, wanting to back down, to fold. I wasn’t sure I was brave enough for this.

“J-Jasper,” I sob, watching him reach for the notebook.

“You’re leaving me?” He asks, brown eyes quickly welling up. Suddenly my heart throbs with pain.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble, sniffling.

“B-but the wedding. What about the wedding?” The curly haired man asks, his voice uncharacteristically vulnerable. Suddenly flashes of the early days, the innocent crush, the tension of the small touches and the hidden giggles overwhelm me. How could I leave this man. I loved him. I always would. There was no denying it.

“Jasper,” I gasp. “W-we both know that we’re not happy.”

“I’m happy,” he exhales, turning to me with sad eyes, hands reaching out to mine. I flinch, pulling away. 

“No, Jasp-”

“You’re afraid of me?” He asks, shocked and sad.

Yes.

“No, darling. No,” I reassure him, reaching for his hands. “I just don’t think this… works.”

We’re both crying, my thumbs soothing over his soft skin.

“No,” Jasper whispers, shaking his head. “No, no, no, no. Izara, no,” he sobs, getting on his knees in front of me, wrapping his arms around my waist, head leaning against my lower stomach. He’s clutching to me like he might die without me. It makes me feel sick. Guilty.

“Jasper,” I cry out, grabbing his arms. “Please get up.”

“You can’t leave me,” he answers weakly, wetting my sweater with his tears. I take a deep breath, looking around the house we’ve shared together, realising that even with all the good, there was always so much more bad.

“No Jasper, get up,” I muster all my strength to say this, pushing his hands off me and taking a step back. Suddenly, the tears stop, his face changes from emotional to cold, detached. He gets up from the floor, rubbing his jaw in the way he did when he was furious.

“Huh,” he nearly chuckles, looking at the floor. “Of course, you think you’re better than me. Think you can do better.” 

“No, Jas, that’s not how I think. I’m jus-”

“Shut up bitch,” he spews out. “All fucking females are the same. Nothing’s good enough.”

I’m taken aback. I had never heard him talk like this.

“You really think anyone’s ever gonna want you?” Jasper asks, his words like spiders weaving webs into my brain. “With your nagging? No one’s ever good enough for you. Nothing is. You just think everyone needs to do whatever you want.” 

“That’s not true,” I say, but barely believe it myself. Maybe he’s right.

“Really? Who would put up with you?” He says condescendingly. “Who would love you?”

I’m silent, ears ringing but not loud enough to blur out his words.

“Go ahead, leave. You’re gonna come crawling back when you realise no one else will stick around.”

He’s looking for a reaction, growing more and more frustrated when I don’t give it to him. I merely stare at the wall blankly, tears falling down my cheeks.

His anger is rising, jaw clenching and the veins in his neck throbbing. “I loved you when no one else would. Me!” He screams, spit landing on my face as he does, his hot breath on me. “I’m the only one that ever will!”

The front door bursts open, Kiran panting and out of breath. I had called him in a panic. Told him I’m finally leaving Jasper. 

“Oi, get off my sister you knob,” Kiran yells, grabbing Jasper and pushing him against the wall by the stairs.

“Kiran!” I yell, grabbing his jacket but he shakes me off, holding onto the collars of Jasper’s shirt. 

“Been waiting for this day since I met you,” Kiran scoffs, keeping Jasper against the wall with ease. He was much stronger. “Never wanna see your face again, yeah? Stay the fuck away from us.”

“Kiran,” I command with authority, finally getting the attention of my brother. His hazel eyes flicker to me, the grip on Jasper’s collar easing.

“Let’s just go,” I say weakly, grabbing one of the bags that had fallen on the floor. Wordlessly, Kiran lets go of the curly haired man panting, back flush against the wall as he watches my brother pick up the rest of the bags, opening the door for me. One more time I glance at Jasper, wondering if he’s right. I wasn’t easy. I was a handful, high maintenance. But a lifetime of being alone and unloved was better than spending each day afraid of my own fiance.

-

The arena is buzzing with scrambling and rushed footsteps, the media team gathered in the tunnels going through what needs to be done today. Trey’s been talking the past 15 minutes, going back and forth from describing the details of his weekend to what questions I should be asking what players. I don’t hear him, staring at the pale brick wall and picking the skin of my lips. I haven’t slept, the heaviness of my eyes reminding me of how exhausted I felt. My body felt tense, shoulders aching, all the seams of my clothes itching against my skin making my heart pound.

I had been knocking and knocking behind Paige’s door, but there was no answer. She hadn’t replied to my messages or calls, and I had barely seen a glimpse of her as we travelled to DC, and those few times she had been avoiding my gaze like the plague - acting as if I didn’t exist. That’s exactly how I felt. Like I finally got proof of what I’d feared. That Jasper was right.

“And then I thought, Zari. Zari?” 

I don’t hear, face blank and the dark circles underneath my eyes visible.

“Hey,” Trey pulls on my sleeve, my head snatching to him. “You okay?”

“Sorry,” I mumble, rubbing my face exhaustedly. “What were you asking?”

He looks at me for a while, face filled with worry. “Uh, just if you got that interview with Satou done?”

“Oh, yeah,” I hum with a smile, though it physically pains me to lift the corners of my mouth, lower lip trembling with the idea of how the blonde was behind that brick wall I had been staring at, preparing for the game against the Mystics. Maybe if I stare for long enough she’ll sense me, come out, and let me explain.

“Thank you Zari,” Trey says softly, “let’s head out, game gonna start soon.”

“Uhh, I need some water first,” I mumble, waving the rest of the team away. In reality I didn’t care. I just wanted to stay behind to catch Paige. To make her listen to me. God, why didn’t I just tell her?

The Dallas Wings finally exit their locker room, one by one coming out in a neat line, making final adjustments to their jerseys or hair. Paige is the last one, closing the door behind herself. Suddenly I fix my posture, opening my mouth to talk. 

“Paige, can you help?” Satou asks before I have the chance to say anything, her sports bra strap somehow twisted around her jersey.

“‘Course,” the blonde smiles, as if nothing had happened. No dark circles, no shaky hands. She seems like herself, like my absence had no effect on her. Meanwhile the devastation of not having her around was making me hurt everywhere, unable to eat or sleep. 

Without even glancing my way, she walks over to the taller girl, fingers working to untangle her. I stare and stare, but no words come out. There’s nothing I can say. I feel like a scolded child who had come back home after failing a test. My green, tired eyes watch Paige, her ponytail flicking off her shoulder as she chats easily with her teammate, without a worry in the world. There, on her long neck where I’d kissed many times, is a bright red mark.

My heart drops, alarm bells going off in my mind. Suddenly it’s becoming very clear why she hadn’t been home all night, why she hadn’t picked up her phone no matter how many times I called. Because she had been too busy wrapped up in some other girl.

“Zari! Was that interview okay?” Satou asks with a bright grin, Paige still working to release her jersey, pretending as if I’m not there.

My eyes well up, tears threatening to spill as I stare at the two girls. Swallowing loudly, I bury the shakiness in my voice and put on a fake smile, slightly too perky to be real. “Yeah, it was perfect. Would you excuse me?” 

I push past the girls, biting down on my lower lip. The moment I’m out of sight, the first tears slip down my cheeks. I need to find a bathroom - anywhere to fall apart in peace.

-

“And another three for Bueckers! Unbelievable!”

The crowd is on their feet as I jog backwards on the court, sneakers squeaking against the hardwood. 29 point game. Ever since the breakthrough game against Seattle Storm I’d been a different player, dropping at least 20 points each night. Chris had finally understood what I needed to be coached. Tough love. It’s what Geno did to make me great. It’s what I needed.

“And the Wings win, defeating the Mystics on their home court!”

I jog back to Chris, my teammates ruffling my hair to congratulate me on another great game. Me and Arike had quickly become an increasingly efficient pair, already being praised all over. The chemistry between us had grown immensely and I truly felt like she was already a sister to me. I had become comfortable wearing Dallas colours, the jersey fitting me just right.

But even with the adrenaline pumping and the crowd roaring I could feel the tightness in my chest and the stirring in my stomach. I could feel it, Izara’s eyes on me, watching for every move. It killed me not to look her way. It wasn’t a punishment or some sort of childish game (though I was known for the silent treatment I gave to those who upset me). I just couldn’t sort through my emotions. Hurt, anger, betrayal, confusion - all of those had been stirring in my mind all night, made their way into my dreams and haunted me even while I slept. It all concluded only to a single question: Why didn’t she tell me?

I had all of this wrong from the start. We were never what I thought we were. It never meant anything to her. That was the only answer I could find. That me, Paige Bueckers, who would die for this girl was nothing more than a rebound. Just something to get her mind off things until she returned back to England, just an experiment until she’d go back to Jasper. Normally I wouldn’t have minded. I get to love on a pretty girl without attachment for a few months before getting the chance to get sick of them? That would’ve been heaven to me even just six months prior. But Izara was different. Izara was everything.

“Paigey!” Aaliyah smiles wide as she approaches me, wrapping me into a tight, sweaty hug. 

“Liliiii,” I grin, resting my head on the taller girl’s shoulder. She had hit me with a nasty block, making me tumble down hard in the second quarter but all was forgotten now. It was strange not sharing a jersey or a team with her, but playing against her was nearly as much fun.

“Baby rookie!”

“Yo I’m older than you,” I groan, pushing her off me. She laughs, wiping the sweat off her arms. 

“That was a good game,” Lili laughs, squeezing my shoulders. “Looks like you’ve been in the weight room finally.”

“Bro,” I groan, shaking her off lightheartedly. “You wanna come to dinner later? Whole team’s going.”

“Sure,” Aaliyah smiles looking at me for a while. “Look at us huh,” she sighs, smoothing over the Mystics jersey sitting on her body.

“Crazy huh,” I repeat almost sadly, the nostalgia of our days playing at UConn together, the ease of it. 

“Who you think Geno was rooting for?”

I scoff. “The Wings, I got him a natty,” I say like it’s obvious. Aaliyah rolls her eyes, grinning slightly.

“Whatever, I know he missed me last season.”

“We all missed you,” I chuckle, sitting down on the bench behind Chris. The taller girl follows me, taking a seat beside mine.

“So, I heard you got a girl?”

My cheeks flush red, a lump in my throat growing at the reminder of Izara. I chew on my lower lip before kissing my teeth, leaning back.

“Uhh, where’d you hear that?”

“KK told me, said you’re in love,” Aaliyah chuckles, poking my bare knee. I smile, of course she did.

“It’s a little, uh, complicated I guess,” I mumble, looking around to make sure no one was in earshot. “Ion know if I’m made for that shit right now.”

“Ion know if you’re made for that at all. It takes work,” Lili laughs, throwing her head back to chug some water. “And talking. You’ve never been good at that.”

Immediately, my eyes glance away onto the court, my head turning to avoid her words. I open my mouth to protest, but stay quiet. She’s right. Even yesterday, even with how much I cared for Izzie, I had no desire to hear her out or to talk it through. To me it might as well be over. 

-

“Miss, we’re here,” the cab driver wakes me from restless sleep, my head leaning against the window. I rub my eyes, glancing at the view of the very familiar front doors of my home building in the scorching afternoon sun. The early flight back home had been just as awkward as the 24 hours before, me and Paige doing everything to avoid each other. It’s funny, it seemed as if we were just as bad at hiding our wrath as we were hiding our relationship. If you could even call it that. I suppose it never was.

Everyone seemed to be aware of the tension between us, Amanda, my assistant producer offering to do content with Paige for me, Arike trying to make it better and get me to come to dinner with the team. It seemed everyone wanted to make it right for us. Even Twitter was filled with rumours of our falling apart based merely on a video where Paige walks by me without touching, or even glancing my way. I never even realised what a rare occurrence that was.

As I step out of the cab, Paige’s one pulls up to right behind mine. I watch as the blonde girl climbs out, grabbing her bags from the trunk while my driver lifts the heavy suitcase for me. It seemed ridiculous, the entire way our cars trailing one another yet we refused to take the same one. I suppose I better get used to it, that this is what it will be like for the rest of the season in Dallas.

I lift my sunglasses onto my head, pushing back my dark curls. Paige is in basketball shorts and a UConn T-shirt, clearly nostalgic from getting to see Aaliyah yesterday. I watch as she lifts the strap of her bag over her head, letting it fall onto her shoulder before adjusting her glasses. The shirt is tight on her arms and upper back, the muscle weight she’d gained in the past couple months already apparent on her slim build. I liked to think I had something to do with that, with the way I was feeding that girl on the daily.

My green eyes practically stare, the cab driving away though I barely notice. Still, she won’t budge, won’t look my way. As if I don’t exist the girl grabs her bags and walks into the building, the red mark on her neck faded but still a cruel reminder of how unlovable I actually was.

Holding back tears I soon follow after, giving Paige enough time to get inside before entering the elevator. I press on the fifth floor, adjusting the cream coloured sweater hanging loosely on my body, revealing the tan on my right shoulder. I couldn’t believe she was acting like this. I thought I meant more - she certainly had made it seem so. Like I meant everything. And she gave up this quickly?

Anger seethes beneath my skin, bubbling and replacing the sadness. Who does she think she is to treat me like this? Just sleeping with some other girl? Not even letting me explain? Not being mature enough to tell me it’s over? She at least owed me that. I needed her to look me in the eye and tell me.

The elevator doors slide open on the fifth floor. My floor. But I don’t step out, my finger reaching to spam the button with the large six on it, impatiently tapping my foot waiting for the elevator to move again. 

The moment the doors open again I’m stepping out, my suitcase getting yanked with me. I beeline to Paige’s apartment, pounding on the wood of her door. No answer. She was pretending to not be home. As if I just didn’t see her five minutes ago.

“Paige!” I yell, overcome with anger enough to forget all my inhibitions or to care about the other neighbours. “Paige Madison!”

I keep knocking on the door, my knuckles turning red against the wood. “Paig-”

Finally it opens, the blonde standing there dumbfounded, a towel hanging off her waist and her upper body only covered in a sports bra.

“You crazy?” She says, only irritating me more.

“Now you listen to me okay Paige Bueckers,” I start, brows furrowed in anger. “I do not know who you think you are, but you can not treat me like this. I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. I really am. But you didn’t even give me a chance to explain! What, you just throw me to the side that easy? Make me think I actually matter and then at the first adversity you run and go fuck some other girl like I’m nothing to y-”

“Woah, woah, what?” Paige asks, tightening the towel around her waist. “Whatchu talking bout some girl?”

I scoff and cross my arms over my chest, nodding towards the tall blonde. “You think I’m stupid too? Everyone can see your neck.”

“My neck?” 

Paige’s brows furrow as she touches the skin on the red mark, rubbing it, eyes widening in realisation. “This is from my bag, the strap made it red.”

Suddenly I feel dumbfounded, stupid even. My ears turn red as I look around, a nice older couple from upstairs making their way down the staircase slowly. Paige and I smile awkwardly at them, the blonde sighing and nodding her head.

“Come inside Iz,” she sighs.

Exhaling loudly, I shake my head, still way too angry. “No. You’re lying. You weren’t home the other night, I tried knocking. Or were you just ignoring me? Like you’re some sort of child?”

“I was at Rike’s and Lala’s.”

“Bullshit.”

“Ask them,” Paige says matter of factly, grabbing her phone from the side table. “Go ‘head.”

I don’t even touch the phone, mostly because I don’t want to be proven wrong in front of her. So I divert.

“Why are you acting like this?” I ask, annoyed.

Paige chuckles bitterly, rolling her eyes and grabbing the door. “I’ma go shower, Ion got time for this.”

A jolt runs through my chest, making my hand grab the door handle. I knew her enough to know her annoyance was only covering up for the hurt I caused.

“Paige,” I sigh, looking up at her with pleading eyes. “I’m sorry. Please, let me explain. Please.”

The blonde throws her head back, looking up at the ceiling. She takes her time contemplating.

“I dunno,” she mumbles, almost like to herself. “Not much you could say.”

“Let me try,” I offer softly, begging to God she’d look back at me.

“Ion like being played with,” she suddenly replies, voice breaking just enough to hear. “Don’t wanna be a rebound or something. Some sorta experiment or some shit like that Iz, I just, I don’t want that.”

���It’s not like that, just let me come in Paige.”

Finally, the blonde lets go of the door, turning her back on me and walking into the bedroom. I step in, dragging my suitcase with me. Enough adrenaline pumped through my veins that I couldn’t feel the exhaustion in my body.

Soon she emerges, sweatpants replacing the towel around her waist. I stand awkwardly by the entrance, as if I hadn’t been nearly living in this apartment the last month or so. Wordlessly, I follow the taller girl into the living room, both of us taking seats on the opposite sides of the couch.

The silence that falls upon us is filled with tension and regret, the steady hum of the AC and quiet sounds of the road somewhere below making its way inside. She still won’t look at me, and it’s breaking my heart.

“Paige-”

“You were engaged?” She interrupts me.

I swallow, before nodding. “I was.”

Paige licks her lips, nodding too. “You left him?”

“Couple weeks before I flew in.”

She takes a deep breath, mulling it over in her head.

“And I was just sumn fun to do, right?”

“Wh- no. Why would you think that?”

“Just sumn to fuck around with,” she adds sternly, not interested in answering my questions. I’m quiet, chewing on my lower lip.

”No, Paige-”

“Some sorta experiment before you got back to your straight girl life in London?”

“Fuck you.”

I get up from the couch, heavy steps walking towards the door, my heartbeat loud in my ears. It’s making me dizzy, the blood rushing all over my body.

“You’re just leaving ‘cause you know I’m right,” Paige follows me, her voice angry.

I turn to her, tears burning in my eyes, pooling over my dark bottom lashes turning them wet and black. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to find out!” I yell. My voice sounds strange, strained, angry. I never yelled. But something about it felt almost good. It was liberating to not think.

“Find out what?” Paige spews back, blue eyes watching me standing by the front door. The distance between us felt a million miles away. “That I mean nothing to you?”

“That I’m unlovable!”

-

The truth crashes into us like a wave against rocks on a shore, leaving only silence in its wake, as if we’re both drowning beneath it. My blue eyes lock into her green ones as they suddenly fill with tears. A tender pain pulses in my chest as Izara breaks down in front of me, crouching on the floor as her petite hands cover over her crying face. But she can’t hide the sniffles and quiet sobs escaping her mouth.

Guilt washes over me. What was I thinking? Why did I say any of that? I dig my blunt fingernails into the palms of my hands, trying to distract myself from my heavy conscience. Did she really feel like that? It was hard to believe that Izzie, perfect, mature, funny, kind, generous Izzie could ever feel like that about herself. It made no sense to me.

“Hey,” I mumble. My voice now is soft and comforting, a stark contrast from before. I walk over to the crouching girl, sliding down the wall onto the ground right by her. The anger I felt for the past few days simmered away as quickly as it arrived. “Izzie.”

My fingertips reach for the skin on her arm, brushing against it gently. Finally, Izzie lowers the hands covering her face, lifting her gaze to look at me. Her face is puffy and red, long dark lashes wet.

”Why would you say that?” I ask, my heart breaking at the thought that she really feels this way.

Izzie laughs in a self-deprecating manner, shrugging. ”It’s true.”

I shake my head. ”It’s not.”

”See, that’s the problem,” Iz sighs, running her hands through her dark hair and staring at the floor. ”You put me on a pedestal. You think too highly of me. I’m not that person. I’m not the person you think I am.” Her voice is breaking, words coming in between deep breaths to calm herself down.

”You gotta gimme a lil more credit than that,” I say.

Izzie shakes her head, wiping the snot off her nose. ”I just fooled you like I’ve fooled everyone. But Jasper knew. Yeah he was awful but I deserved it. Because I’m awful too.”

”Whoa, no Iz, don’t say that baby. Never say that.”

”It’s true,” she cries softly, green eyes staring at her own hands. ”I’m controlling and particular and I don’t know how to compromise and I can’t handle change in plans or routine, I need to plan the foods I eat a week in advance for crying out loud!”

”And I love all those things about you,” I’m quick to reply because it’s true. ”Iz you’re not a bad person.”

”I am.”

”No, Jasper just got you fucked up ma, that’s not you at all.”

”He’s the only person who ever knew all of me,” she sniffles, wiping her dark hair off her face.

”Then show me Iz,” I plead, eyes locked on her face. ”I wanna know all of you.”

Izara shakes her head, finally glancing at my eyes. ”No, you’ll hate me.”

”I could never hate you,” I mumble, heart aching so badly I can’t help myself when I wrap my arms around the girl and pull her onto my lap. She lets me, resting her head in the crook of my neck as she sobs into it. I hold her like that, rubbing her hair and back, comforting her on the cool floors of my apartment. My faded grey UConn shirt becomes wet with Izzie’s tears but it’s okay. It’s the least of my worries.

”I mean it Iz, I just wanna know you,” I reassure her, whispering into her hair. ”Could never push me away baby.”

”I’m just scared,” she finally admits, pulling back to look at me. Our gazes meet, and I feel a strange jolt of something stronger than I've ever felt for anyone rushing through my body. It feels strange, but good, whatever it is.

”I’m sorry I didn’t tell you Paige. I was just scared that you wouldn’t want me like that. I’m just someone’s damaged goods-”

”Don’t say that shit. I want you, Ion care about your past. Wanna make this work with you.”

Izzie swallows, licking her lips before leaning in for a gentle kiss. I feel as if I can finally exhale, tasting her salty tears on her lips.

”Me too,” Iz murmurs against my lips. ”I’m done being scared.”

For a moment far too short we merely kiss, making up for the lost couple days until Izzie pulls back again.

”Wh- what will we do when, you know, the season ends?”

Oh right. The dreaded question that had been haunting me ever since I realised I couldn’t bare life without her.

”We can do long-distance for a bit, money isn’t gonna be a problem so we can just fly back and forth, right?” I suggest carefully.

Izzie’s listening to me wide eyed, hanging onto every word.

”And then, I dunno, Linda really likes you. I’m sure you could get your job back next year. I mean if you want.”

”Yeah, maybe,” she nods. ”She does like me.”

Who wouldn’t?

I smile down at the girl, a grin growing onto my face at my thoughts. ”We could also just run away and get married. Getchu that visa ma.”

Izara laughs (and I think finally), slapping my arm playfully.

”You’re such a lesbian,” she giggles and I nod proudly.

”So are you mama,” I grin. ”With the way you’ve been eating pussy I’ma say just as much as me.”

”Paigeuh!” She gasps, sitting up on my lap. ”Besides, no one loves eating pussy like you do.”

”Mm, that’s right,” I smirk, pulling her into a kiss. Izara giggled against my mouth, the vibrations sending jolts to my heart. ”Lemme eat you.”

”Stoppp,” the pearls of her laughter echo around the apartment as I kiss on her neck, nibbling it playfully.

With a struggle, I get us both up from the floor, carrying the girl to my bed with ease. She pulls me on top of her with a needy whine, kissing me lovingly. I hold her carefully, like she’s made of frail porcelain, my hands brushing against her sides.

Izzie pulls away to breathe, fluttering her green eyes at me. I feel like I could burst. The idea that she genuinely felt unlovable broke my heart. I had to convince her otherwise. Make her see what I saw. My sweet, beautiful, kind and hard headed girl.

”Paige?” Iz whispers, her nails brushing against the back of my neck causing goosebumps to rise.

”Yeah baby?”

”Am I your girlfriend?”

Time stops, much like my heart, a shaky exhale involuntarily spilling out. 

”D-do you want to be?” I ask carefully, my voice hoarse.

”I don’t want to force you in-” she stutters

”I want you to be my girlfriend Izara.”

-

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[signedaiko]

Hi do you mind if I please request a oneshot where tfp Wheeljack thinks that the human reader is uptight and just no fun, but that's only because she goes adult mode around the kids especially in dangerous situations, but she's actually a total nerd and very chaotic. And he develops a crush on her.

Seasons Changing

Wheeljack X Reader [Prime]

In which Wheeljack finds you're just like every other strict bot, until he gets you alone.

Song - September by Sparky Deathcap

Reader is: Female | Cybertronian | Autobot. Romantic.

Hidden beneath the crumbling red rocks of Jasper, Nevada, a bot that'd spent the last few decades racing across space as the war came to a dwindling and depressing close found himself bunkered in with a conglomerate of Autobots. 

Some he knew well, some he'd never heard of. 

"Wheeljack! Watch where you're stepping!" Once again, you'd turned from your datapad that had your servos practically dented into it from many months of use just to nag at him. 

Another Autobot gone soft; all you did now was read Earth fiction, old Cybertronian articles, and tell him off since he'd landed here. 

"Yeah, yeah, the kids aren't stupid. They can dodge, too." He groaned under his breath before sitting down away from the kids, resulting in a whine from Miko, who'd been trying to teach him to play some rock on her new guitar. 

"Kids shouldn't be dodging anything; they're kids." You corrected him before setting your datapad down in between the two of you to get up. 

Wheeljack glanced down to catch a glimpse of whatever you were reading, finding some pre-war article on quantum engine engineering. He never got how someone so annoying could be interested in cool things. 

Ushering the humans back onto their elevated space so they wouldn't be in danger of moving mechs, you took the chance to apologize to Miko for interrupting her lessons. 

Normally Wheeljack would be out for a mission, but the boss insisted he stay back with you in case you were needed elsewhere. 

Ratchet was also busy working on one of their larger projects: expanding the range of the ground bridge. It meant they needed someone to distract the kids and watch them as much as possible, and so the two of you were left alone. 

Well, as alone as you can be with a bunch of teens and Ratchet. 

"Hey! You and Wheeljack still at base?" Arcee's voice broke in through static, likely interference from the base, lighting up your comms. 

"We are. Need something?" You pressed a servo to the side of your helm to respond, standing up to alert Ratchet you may need to use the groundbridge. 

"We found some locations worth investigating. Our team is splitting into two, but we need you and Wheeljack at the third. Prepare for anything." Your comm beeped, informing you of some coordinates, just as she hung up. Somewhere in the snowy mountains of Northwest Territories, Canada. 

"Looks like we're needed elsewhere, Wheeljack. Let's get going." You turned to wave him over, which resulted in him getting up with a groan. You couldn't think of the last time you saw him do anything but frown. 

With a few digits punched into the machine and Ratchet calculating the rest, the green and purple swirls of the ground bridge ignited into a vortex, which you led the way through. 

Your temperature indicator quickly dropped by the double digits, from 35C to -20C in a matter of a few minutes. As cold as you remembered space being, you'd been subjected to such a warm environment for so long that it took a while to adjust. 

Wheeljack, on the other hand, had only been in Jasper so long and immediately pushed past you into the several feet of snow, nothing but tall pines and thick brush surrounding the two of you. Any trees had their branches thick with ice and snow, making them look as pure white as the rest of the landscape. 

It was so quiet you could hear your own spark pulse. 

"There should be a strong energon signal somewhere around here. We're looking for some kind of mine." Wheeljack had already pulled out the signal detector while you slowly warmed your engines up, hot steam escaping your mouth in an exhale. 

"Yeah, I'm picking up a few right now. Looks like they'd even defend a place as desolate as this." Wheeljack turned the reader off so no one would pick up on its signal either. 

If there was defence, the longer you were out here, the longer they'd have to notice your trace energies. 

"What are we waiting for? Let's break in!" Much to Wheeljack's surprise, you ran ahead of him, sword in hand, as you sliced through branches to clear a path. 

"Whoa! Wait up! What are you doing?" Wheeljack yelled out after you as you charged ahead in the direction of the signals, watching as you broke into a con-made clearing where two Vehicons guarded the entrance to a dugout cave. 

In a moment, you were on top of one with your sword, plunging it into their chassis. 

Wheeljack had no choice but to engage as the other one aimed in your direction, slicing its gun in half, which resulted in the explosion blowing its arm apart. You were already off the Vehicon and running into the cave, which forced him to kick the vehicon he was attacking down and slice its helm off in one swift sweep. 

His mask engaged, covering his mouth as he chased you into the cave, muttering under his breath. Just a moment ago you were as calm as ever, and now you were running ahead of him with no regard for the dangers.

This was when Wheeljack didn't do the buddy system; bots are just too complicated. 

When he caught up to you, you were in the main chasm of the dugout hole, surrounded by stashes of energon, though they varied in colour from mostly green to blue. 

More vehicons, which appeared to be working, turned to the two of you, and before he could react, you were already running at the two closest to you. 

The wrecker had worked with many before, but not many that'd throw themselves into a fight as casually as you did. Even as he bashed two vehicons helms together while making a sword swallowing act out of the third, his optics kept glancing your way. 

If he didn't know any better, he'd say you were a wrecker at some point, too. 

With your combined efforts, you were able to pile the vehicons into a corner and tie them together with some chains, left to the cave on your own. 

"Arcee, we're all wrapped up here. What do we do?" 

It took a couple of minutes before you got a reply, which Wheeljack spent looting the corpses for anything good. 

"Jeez, already? You two comm Ratchet and get as much energon back to base as you can; we'll see you there in a bit." 

Looking to Wheeljack, you pointed to the blue crates of energon, which he offered a thumbs up to. With his mask retracted, you could see his frown was a lot closer to a smile, which was the first of its kind. 

You were able to contact Ratchet, who opened up a ground bridge for the two of you, and Wheeljack got to lugging through crates while you took to collapsing in the cave entrance. 

You wouldn't want humans to find any evidence of this or for the wildlife to interact with the toxic substances in the crates. 

As you two grabbed the last few crates, Wheeljack stopped you before you went back to base for good. 

"Hey, what was up with all of that?" He gestured with his helm back to the pile of vehicons, to which you shrugged. 

"I mean, why act out like that? Aren't you supposed to be Miss-Don't-Do-That or Miss-Wheeljack-Stop-Screwing-Around?" You took a moment to consider what he was referencing before laughing in realization. 

"Oh god, that's right! You've only seen me at base!" He only stared at you with narrow optics, which eventually softened; he'd come to like that laugh. 

"No, Wheeljack, this is me. I just really want the kid to know they're safe. Can you imagine how scared they are, surrounded by a big wad of sentient metal as a small, fragile organism?" 

Thinking about Miko, Raf, and Jack had you worrying again, and you pushed forward to the portal. 

"If you want to know more, you'll have to stop begging to go on missions alone." You disappeared into the swirling lights, leaving Wheeljack on his own in the cave. 

"Yeah, right." The mech mumbled under his breath. He could take this crate of energon, get on his ship, and leave anytime he wanted; no femme was going to change that. 

Yet, he found himself chasing you through the portal, without a second thought.

Author's Note - I tried so hard on this you don't even want to know! I hope its what you were looking for <3

Words - 1,405

[arcticmist0324]

I am absolutely buzzing in excitement about new I Hunt Killers content in anno domini 2025.

[bird-in-the-space]

Echoes of the Unknown

You fall ill despite the energon in your possession. Emily convinced you to have you checked, and seeing no better option, you agree. You then end up meeting other kinds of robots, robots who were friends with humans.

Warnings: you being seriously ill, possibly infected wound, running away, getting chased, and losing consciousness.

Chapter 8

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

Something was wrong. Sleeping helped regain some strength but your headache and upset stomach were worse than ever before. You did not even dare to eat more of the energon, fearing it might cause the stomach pain to become worse. You felt weak, incredibly weak. Even the bruise beneath your arm began to ache more, and you now regretted hitting yourself in the chest with a rock because the dents now made it uncomfortable. 

When the morning came, you didn’t even have the energy to transform into the robot form when Emily came to check on you. She noticed immediately that something was not right with you and you explained how you were feeling right now. 

“(Name). This is serious. Maybe we should check with a mechanic to get that bruise batched up and see if that blue stuff and the oils are actually causing you to have some kind of food poisoning,” she said. 

“But would they know how to fix me? I am a car that can turn into a robot,” you questioned, still in your car form. 

“Exactly, you are a car made out of metal and car parts. You can stay in your car form while a mechanic can look into you and see what’s wrong,” Emily replied, taking a sip from her coffee. 

You groaned. The idea of someone opening you and looking at your insides did not appeal to you at all. However, she made sense. 

“I can ask my uncle to take a look at you. He’s a mechanic at the local repair shop,” Emily stated. “I’m sure he can at least provide an insight what might be wrong wih you as the car expert, or at least patch up the bruise and dents,” she added. 

“You have relatives everywhere,” you commented. 

“Jasper is a small place,” Emily smiled. “I’ll go dress up and grab something to eat, then we’ll go,” she walked back into her house. 

You groaned as you felt like shit with your headache and aching joints. 

After Emily dressed up and had her breakfast, you drove through the streets. Luckily, you had enough energy to drive to the repair shop where Emily’s uncle worked. Your speed was slow. You just didn’t have the strength and energy to speed up.

“Hey, just to avoid any of those robots who might recognize you. How about we find a new look for you?” Emily asked. 

“Maybe. But do you really think adding paint makes me unrecognizable?” you questioned skeptically. 

“We’ll we gotta try at least. We never know if you don’t do it,” she said as you arrived at the repair shop. 

You opened the door for Emily as she stepped out. She then closed it and looked toward you. 

“Okay. I’m gonna go see if my uncle is free to take a look at you,” she explained. 

You hummed in response, struggling to stay awake. 

“It won’t take long. Now, stay put,” Emily then walked into the repair shop and talked to a man you assumed to be her uncle. You had met her family a few times, but she still had relatives you never seen before. 

You tried to rest your mind while waiting. However, you soon started to feel paranoid. You felt exposed and like something was going to happen. 

You suddenly heard an engine and used your rear mirror to look behind you. You felt the blood in your pumps go cold when you saw a familiar yellow car standing some distance away from you, and this time there was also a blue bike. You saw a boy in a helmet look your way from the top of the bike and another smaller boy inside the yellow car. You had a bad feeling. Why were they looking your way? 

You then heard the doorbell and saw Emily walk toward your way. 

“Alright, my uncle said he has time. So, let’s get you into the shop,” she said, standing at your window. 

“Uhm… Em,” You said when you saw the two boys run toward you, or Emily specifically. 

“Emily!” the taller boy said, catching Emily’s attention. 

“Jack! Raf! I haven’t seen you since the summer break. How are you two?” Emily greeted them with a smile. You felt nervous. It was not shocking that she knew the two. You only regognized the little boy, Raf, having met him before. You were more nervous about the yellow car and the blue bike that now stood away from the repair shop, like they were waiting for something.  

“Good. How was your summer?” Raf asked, thought a bit awkwardly. You noticed how he looked toward you, or the symbol on your steering wheel. You began to feel more anxious. Did he know you were a robot? 

“Oh! It had been a wild one. You won’t even believe half of the things that happened,” Emily replied. 

“Anyway, Emily. Nice new car. Where did you get it?” the taller boy, Jack, asked. 

“Oh, it was a gift from my dad. He got lucky and gave it to me as a graduation gift since I already have a driver’s license, and I am more than happy with this girl,” Emily answered, then looked at the dents on you. “But as you can see I had a little accident on the road. I just asked my uncle if he take a look at her,” she explained. 

“Okay…” Jack said though nervously. Raf nudged him on the side and Jack then looked at the symbol on your wheel. You struggled to stay calm. They definitely knew something. 

“Emily. This might sound weird, but this is a not the kind of car you should have,” Jack suddenly said. You silently gulped. He knew. You called it. 

“What are you talking about? I had this car for two months now,” Emily replied with a raised brow. 

“It’s a… bad type of car. You know… maybe we should talk about this somewhere else, away from that,” he motioned at you. You felt too scared to be insulted. 

Emily scoffed. “Jack. I don’t know what you are talking about. We can talk about bad car brands some other time because I need to get my girl fixed. So, if you excuse me,” she opened your door and sat on your seat. 

“You have to trust me. You should not be inside this thing,” Jack insisted. 

“First of all, do not call my girl a thing. That’s rude. And second, I’m busy, we can’t talk about it later. Now step to the side,” Emily said as she put on the seat belt and you slowly drived away from the parking lot. 

You tried to keep calm and enter the repair shop, but when you saw the bike and the car move on their own, you hit the engine and quickly drove to the road. Emily yelped as you then speeded as fast as you could from the yellow car and the blue bike. 

You saw the two boys quickly run to the vehicles and chase after you. 

“Wow! (Name)! What’s the matter? Why are you driving away?” Emily asked.  

“We are being followed!” you exclaimed as you moved the rear mirror to show the yellow car and the blue bike following you. 

“I’ve seen that yellow car before, and they moved by themselves when those two boys weren’t there,” you explained. 

“You think they’re robots? But why would Jack and Raf be with them then?” Emily looked behind you. “I don’t know but I am not risking it to find out if they are friendly!” you said as you tried to speed up. 

You tried to drive away from them, making turns and trying to get them off your tail. You managed to to lose them for a moment, but the yellow car caught up to you quickly. It was fast and clearly trying to block your way out of town. Due to your current condition, you were not able to go fast.

It was a chase through the town. 

“I can’t lose them,” You uttered as the car and bike were high on your tail. 

“(Name)! If they are with Jack and Raf, then maybe they are friendly, unlike those who tried to hurt us,” Emily explained. “They could help you,” 

“I don’t know about that,” You said. 

“Let me try to talk them first. Pull over to the hidden alley street. I’ll confront them,”  she said as you then drove quickly into the street and out of their sight. You parked in a hidden corner and Emily jumped out. 

“Stay here. If they do something, I scream,” she said. 

“Okay,” you said even thought personally you would not let her go on her own.

Emilia stood calmly in the middle of the alleyway, watching as the yellow car and blue bike turned and stopped at the sight of her. She did not feel much fear, especially when Jack and Raf were with them. They got out of the vehicles and run to her. 

“Emily, are you okay? You didn’t get hurt?” Jack asked worriedly. 

“I’m fine. The better question is… why are you two following us?” she pointed at him. 

“And Raf, aren’t you a bit too young to drive on a car like that?” she pointed at the younger boy. 

“Well, isn’t it obvious we thought you were getting kidnapped,” Jack explained. “Wait… did you say ‘us’?” he asked. 

“You know your car is a con?” Raf questioned. 

“Oh, I don’t know much about these cons you are talking about,” Emily said and then sighed.  “If they’re the bad robots. I can assure you it's not like that.” she explained. 

“What?” The boys looked at each other confused. 

“Let me guess. These are also robots who can transform into vehicles,” Emily pointed at the car and the bike. “I also know that they’re from space,” she added. 

“The real question is what are you two doing with them and are they bad robots?” she looked at Jack and Raf. 

“Well…” Raf struggled but then the blue bike started talking with a female voice. 

“We’re not here to hurt you. We got concerned when the boys confirmed you were with a Decepticon,” the blue bike explained. Then the yellow car started beeping, which Emily couldn’t understand. 

“A Decepticon? So they’re the bad bots?” she questioned. 

“Yes. These two are Autobots. The good robots who are at war with the Decepticons,” Jack cleared out. 

“Aha. Well, now it makes sense” Emily nodded. 

“I can assure you that (Name) is not a Decepticon,” she said. 

“(Name)?” the boys question. 

“It’s complicated to explain. Do you remember my friend (Name) (Last name), a quiet person, seems sometimes pissed off, you two actually met her last summer when she came to spend it with me after the summer camp?” she questioned. 

“I think I remember her.. didn’t you once come to the fast food place at the time?” Jack asked. 

“We did,” Emily nodded. 

“Oh, you actually brought her along to a family gathering. She was really nice” Raf said. 

“Good. Now have you heard about the news about the tragic accident in the summer camp I went to?” she asked. 

“Yeah, some camper fell from a cliff and passed away,” Jack explained. 

“Yeah. That’s how it seemed, but that camper was my friend (Name),” Emily said. 

“What?” the boys looked at her shocked. 

“Long story short, we went to investigate strange sounds that came from the Lynx Wood mountains. (Name) fell when the mountain started shaking. She survived the fall and found one of these Decepticon mines,” Emily explained. “She was then found, but then this alien machine showed up and caused her to switch bodies with the con,” 

“How… how do you know that?” Jack asked. 

“She told me and because she is now a giant purple robot,” Emily replied. “I’ve been trying to help her and now she’s fallen sick,”  

“She’s sick. Where is (Name) now?” Raf asked. 

“She’s hiding. I wanted to see if you wished her harm,” Emily looked at the yellow car and the motorcycle. 

“Well… if this con is really your friend, then maybe Team Prime could help her,” Jack suggested. 

“Jack. How do we know she’s telling the truth and it's not a Decepticon trick?” the blue bike asked. 

“Well, blue bike. If you must know, me and (Name) nearly got smoked yesterday when we went to look for this thing called energon and found one of the Decepticon mines,” Emily said with her hands on her hips. 

“You went to a Decepticon mine?!” Raf asked. 

“Yeah. We wanted to try to find energon because (Name) hadn’t had it since the day she was turned, and that was two months ago. We thought oil could help as a fuel but it had only made her sick,” Emily explained. 

The yellow car beebed. 

“That is a long time being online without energon,” the blue bike stated.

“I am telling the truth,” Emily said. 

Jack then turned toward the blue bike. “Arcee, I know Emily. She never lies unless its for a good reason and you saw the con only trying to run away. We should help them,” he said. 

The yellow car beebed again, and the blue bike sighed. 

“Fine. If you come with us, we can help your friend,” she said. 

“Alrighty then. You better not hurt her,” Emily turned toward the alley where you were hidden. 

“(Name)! It’s alright! They’re friendly! They want to meet you so come out!” she called out. 

You reluctantly drove out of your hiding spot and toward them. The yellow car and the blue bike suddenly transformed, causing you to back away a second. 

“It’s okay. Show them,” Emily assured and then you transformed. 

You then stared at them with caution. The boys and the robots seemed surprised to see your face. 

“Uh…Hi…” you said awkwardly. 

“That voice. It is really you (Name)?” Raf looked at you. 

“Hey, Raf. Long time no see,” you said. 

“Well, I guess we can now believe you,” the smaller robot said. 

The yellow robot said something. You didn’t understand since it was a series of beebs and whirls. 

“So what say you? We’ll take them to the base?” Jack looked toward the blue robot. 

A sudden pang of pain struck your head. Your vision became blurry and you started to feel dizzy, causing you to sway from side to side. 

“(Name). What’s wrong?” Emily asked worriedly. 

“I don’t feel so good,” you uttered. 

You then lost consciousness. Emily yelped as you slammed against the road, passing out. Her voice vanished from your ears and you were embraced by darkness. The last thing you heard was Emily pleading with the robots to help you and one of them talking about a ground bridge.

[izzyyaps2much]

Chapter Two - Shadows and Spotlights

Red Threads // A Jasper Hale Fanfiction // Wattpad

The morning dew never failed to fog up my window.

I wiped it down like I always did, knowing it wouldn't clear completely. Even if it did, it's not like tomorrow morning would be different. This town never changes. But something about today was.

Dad was unusually chipper, of course, he was. To an outsider's eye, he seems to be the same but I noticed. Ever since Bella came, he's been wanting to give off a good impression. Waking up early in the morning, cooking us breakfast. It made me chuckle how the old man seemed so giddy to befriend his own daughter. He's been doing quite a lot recently.. A lot more cautious, too. I sigh looking at Bella give Dad a hug... well almost? I could still feel the tension between them. I guess Bella hasn't gotten used to Dad yet.

He tossed me the keys to my truck, a blue Ford F-150 he got me for my eighteenth birthday, and handed Bella a newly released sequel to the book she'd brought along with her last night. She immediately lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. Who knew my little sister turned into such a bookworm?

I laughed, turning to give Dad a hug. "Don't forget to eat lunch, old man. I'll cook you double if you forget again!"

Before I could head out, he lowered his voice, clearly not wanting Bella to hear. "You sure you're gonna be okay, kid?"

There it was. Dad wasn't one to say much when he was worried. He usually just hovered around, giving a few looks, and waited for me to express my concerns but this time... I guess he was quite nervous.

"I'm gonna be fine, Dad. Look, nothing's gonna happen. Me and Bella are safe. Forks High is safe."

Ever since the so-called animal attack at my old school, the one that killed our principal, he's been on high alert. That's how he got Mom to let him transfer us here actually. That's why she was unusually quiet about it. I guess even she knew when to back off.

Dad gave a tight nod, a small cough escaping his throat.

"Hey! We're gonna be late!" Bella called from the car.

"Coming!" I waved goodbye. "We'll be back in one piece don't worry!"

—

Bella stared out the window, earbuds in, already in her own world. I hoped she didn't feel too out of place though. I mean, she's been gone for years, but me and Dad always kept the door open. Still, it's weird how different we turned out.

She got Mom's lighter features, brown hair, pale skin... I was more like Dad. Darker hair, sharper eyes, and a sharper tongue as well. Personality-wise, we couldn't be more different. Bella was all quiet sighs and internal monologues. It was like looking at a cute little puppy.

Suddenly, a dog or maybe something bigger darted across the road. I slammed the brakes, heart in my throat.

Bella shot me a look. "What happened?"

I cursed under my breath, grabbing my right hand. My index finger flared up again, like a needle piercing straight through it. It had been aching since last night, but this was way worse.

"I think I hit something," I muttered, stepping out of the truck.

No body. Just an empty road. But weirdly, there was a dent on the side of the truck.

Great. First week in Forks High and I'm already seeing ghosts or possibly damaging wildlife. And in this town, especially where animals were practically protected royalty, I'd be crucified.

Bella climbed out behind me, eyes flicking to my hand. "You're bleeding?"

"No, just... cramps, maybe? I was painting a lot last week."

She reached for my hand, and I instinctively pulled back. Her touch made it sting worse. What the hell?

"You okay?" she asked again, clearly not buying it.

"Yeah. Just a passing dog or something. Nothing major."

She didn't look convinced but got back in the truck anyway.

The rest of the drive was painfully quiet. When we pulled up to Forks High, the place was buzzing. Students swarmed the front steps, groups clustered on wet pavement like it wasn't freezing out.

A voice called out as we passed, "Nice ride."

Bella smiled slightly. "Thanks."

I clocked how people looked at us. Like we were aliens. I guessed Forks didn't get a lot of transfers.

"You're Dawn and Isabella Swan," A guy popped out of nowhere. "The new girls!"

He was tall, kind of nerdy-cute, with wide eyes and a little too much confidence. "Eric. Eyes and ears of this place. You need a tour guide, lunch date, shoulder to cry on? I do it all." He offered a hand out, which I didn't take.

I laughed, raising a brow at his shy retreat. "Generous offer. My sister might take you up on it."

Bella side-eyed me. "I'm more of a suffer in–" "Guide her," I cut in. "She's shy, she needs someone to show her around."

Eric beamed. "Sure thing!"

I watched them walk off toward gym, Bella shooting me a glare. I mouthed You'll be fine and turned toward my own hell: AP Chemistry.

I had no clue why I was even in that class. I wasn't bad at chem, but I wasn't great either. Someone probably made a mistake. Hopefully.

As soon as I walked into the room, my finger pulsed again. Sharper this time. And I swear someone was staring at me. Like, really staring. But when I glanced around, only the teacher looked up.

"Ah! You must be Ms. Swan. I'm Mrs. Moore," she smiled. "Why don't you take a seat next to Jasper and Alice at the back. They'll help you catch up."

My gaze followed her gesture, and I froze.

Two students sat there like they belonged in an oil painting, not a public school lab. The girl had short black hair styled in messy spikes, like she walked through a wind tunnel and made it fashion. She was impossibly graceful, almost pixie-like. The guy next to her... there was something sharp about him. Pale skin, honey-blond curls, jaw clenched like he was in pain.

Then he looked at me.

His eyes were black. Not dark brown. Not hazel. Pitch black, like tar under moonlight. I couldn't move... I could barely breathe. There was something ancient in that look, like staring down a cliffside you didn't realize you were standing on the edge of.

My heart skipped. No, it tripped.

I forced my legs to work, walking slowly down the aisle and sliding into the seat beside them. The room was full of quiet scribbling and the low hum of a Bunsen burner, but I felt like all the sound had drained out by the time I was in front of them.

"Hey," I said, more casually than I felt. "I'm Dawn."

The girl smiled immediately. "I'm Alice." She had a bright voice. Bubbly. Friendly. Like wind chimes.

"Nice to meet you," I said, holding out my hand. She reached out instinctively, but the moment our hands almost touched, she hesitated. Her smile faltered, though not entirely, but just a tiny flicker. Her eyes went distant and a bit confused. As if I had disappeared right in front of her.

I waited for a "nice to meet you too," but it never came.

Instead, she blinked and let go quickly. Her smile came back, but it never quite reached her eyes like earlier. I tilted my head, a little thrown off. Nonetheless, I ignored it.

Alice turned back to her notes and began explaining where the class had left off, guiding me through the lab instructions. Still helpful, still sweet, but there was a stiffness behind it. Like she was trying to focus through a migraine.

I noticed her sneaking glances at me every so often, her expression tight. Curious. Intrigued. Though still she looked as if she tried her best to be cheerful.

And the guy beside her. Jasper.

He sat to her left, perfectly still, arms folded like he was keeping himself from doing something impulsive. There was something rigid about him. Alert. Like a soldier trying not to twitch. He hadn't said a word. Not to me, not to Alice. Just occasionally turned pages or moved a beaker as needed. But his eyes... those seemed to be the only parts of him that moved. Flicking toward me, then away, then back again like he couldn't help it.

I caught his gaze once and for some reason it didn't feel like looking at a stranger.

It felt like I'd walked into a room I wasn't supposed to be in, and he was trying to decide whether to speak or vanish.

And yet, weirdly, I wasn't scared. Just... confused.

He was beautiful. No getting around that, but in that strange, carved-from-marble way that felt unreal up close. There was a shadow to him. Like he carried tension in his veins instead of blood.

I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and tried to focus on Alice again.

"You smell... sweet," she said suddenly.

I blinked. "Sorry?"

"Sorry," she laughed quickly. "That sounded strange, didn't it?"

"Kind of," I said, laughing a little too. "Is that a compliment or a warning?" I joked around, expecting her to jest back.

But instead her smile flickered, and there was silence between us after that.

"I'll write while you pour?" I offered. "You probably shouldn't trust me near glass."

Alice laughed, a little too quickly. "You're fine. Here, just place that bottle into the tray when it's done mixing."

It was strange. I heard a lot about the Cullens. Ever since they moved from Alaska two years ago, they've been the favorite of small-town gossip. Though I wasn't one to really interact much with the people around, it was impossible to hear nothing about the Cullen family. I was at the diner once, waiting for Dad, and I heard something about them being adopted. That doesn't explain why they all look so beautiful, though. Were Mr. and Mrs. Cullen just extremely selective with their kids?

We were midway through the lab instructions when Alice handed me one of the labeled flasks, her fingers brushing mine by accident.

The contact was brief—but immediate.

Alice flinched like she'd touched a live wire. Her eyes snapped wide, then went utterly blank. Like someone cut the lights behind them. I barely had time to register it. My fingers jerked instinctively away, knocking the beaker on the edge of the table. It shattered on impact.

"Shit—sorry," I gasped, already reaching to clean it.

But then—

A sharp sting flared across my finger. A thin, shallow line, like a paper cut—but worse. It burned, like hot scissors through paper threads.

Alice blinked hard, snapping back to herself.

I barely caught the way her hand trembled as she reached for a cloth. "Dawn–" she said, too fast. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, it's nothing." I said, my hand covering my finger.

But I looked up—and Jasper wasn't okay.

He'd gone completely still. Rigid.

His eyes were on my hand. Unblinking.

There was something about the way he stood, like he was balancing on the edge of a cliff, waiting for a signal to jump.

Alice's head snapped toward him.

"Jasper," she said quietly.

He didn't move.

"Jasper," she repeated—firmer now. Her hand shot out, latching onto his wrist.

Something passed between them in that second—some silent conversation I wasn't privy to.

He shut his eyes, jaw flexing like it hurt to breathe. His lips twitched once.

Then he exhaled sharply and turned away.

"I need to go," he muttered, already walking out.

Alice watched him go, lips pressed into a thin line.

She turned back to me with a polite smile. "I'll clean this up. Go see the nurse, okay?"

I nodded, too weirded out to argue. My finger was still bleeding, but at least it was wrapped in a napkin now.

As I stepped out of the lab, I could still feel it—the strange static that buzzed through the air when our hands touched. The scissor-sharp slice. And the way Jasper looked at me, like I'd cracked something open he wasn't ready to face.

I didn't know what it meant.

But something had changed. I just didn't know what.

—

Alice caught up with Jasper just outside the science building.

She let out an exasperated sigh, not speaking for a moment. Just staring at him.

"I can't see her," she finally whispered. "I..." She looked disheveled, a slight terror in her eyes.

He didn't answer.

"I mean it," Alice continued. "Not just her future. Nothing. Like she doesn't even exist on the map..."

Jasper let out a slow breath through his nose. "Then maybe that's why."

"Why what?"

"Why it felt like something snapped." He furrowed his brows, clenching his jaw.

She blinked. "What do you mean?"

He didn't elaborate. He just kept walking, hands shoved deep in his pockets, expression unreadable.

—

By the time I got to the cafeteria, it was packed. I spotted Bella sitting at a table surrounded by a cluster of juniors, laughing politely at something someone said.

After what happened in AP Chem, I was sure something was wrong with my finger. But the nurse insisted it was fine; she said it was just a shallow cut, nothing serious. Still, she let me rest for a while in the office, which was why I was late.

I scanned the room for an empty table, hoping to quietly blend in. That hope shattered when I caught sight of a pale hand waving me over.

Alice.

She sat with the rest of the Cullens. Which was undeniably the most striking group in the room. Together, they looked more like a casting call than a group of high school students. The cafeteria buzzed around them, whispers flowing like current through water.

"Dawn! Over here!" Alice's voice rang out, clear and cheerful.

Heads turned. A few students glanced between her and me, whispering. Even Bella looked up, surprised. She offered me a small, closed-lip smile, the kind you give a stranger at a family party. I gave her one back, equally uncertain.

As I made my way across the room, I heard a girl near Bella mutter, "Wait—who is she? Why is she sitting with them?"

"That's my sister," Bella smiled, calmly looking over.

"You didn't tell us you had a sister," the girl replied, laughing awkwardly. I don't know why but the way she said that kind of bothered me.

I slid into the seat beside Alice, settling between her and another blonde girl who gave me a slow once-over, arms folded across her chest like I'd just stolen her seat.

"Hey," Alice said, leaning in slightly. "Is your finger okay?"

I glanced at the bandage wrapped around it. "Yeah. Still stings a little, but I'll live."

She nodded, hands neatly folded in her lap, but I noticed how she didn't reach for me again. Not even a reassuring touch on the arm. She looked steadier than before but not exactly at ease.

"I wanted to apologize," she added. "About earlier. I... had a migraine. And Jasper... he's just really sensitive to blood."

I glanced across the table. Jasper sat rigid, jaw clenched, eyes fixed on anywhere but me. He didn't look up, but I could feel the apology in his nod. It was subtle, almost reluctant.

"Happens," I said, shrugging.

But it didn't explain everything.

Alice smiled, a little too brightly, as if trying to smooth the tension. "Oh! And this is Rosalie, Emmett, and Edward," she said, gesturing to each of them.

Rosalie was the one glaring at me like I'd spilled coffee on her jacket and Emmett offered a charming grin.

"Wait—there's two Swans?" he asked, amused. "Are you a senior here?"

"Technically," I said. "I transferred back recently. My old school had... issues." That was putting it lightly.

Rosalie raised an eyebrow. "Weird. Haven't seen you in any of my classes."

"I was in the nurse's office most of the morning," I replied, not bothering to elaborate.

Emmett laughed. "Lucky. I should try that sometime."

Rosalie rolled her eyes and gave his shoulder a light smack.

Okay. So they're definitely a thing.

Alice chuckled, then added, "Edward and I are juniors. The rest are graduating this year."

"Oh, I didn't realize," I said. "You were so good in AP Chem, I thought you were a senior for sure."

Alice beamed at the compliment, but there was something behind her eyes. Like she was watching me too closely, studying the way I moved, the way I spoke. Like she still hadn't decided what I was.

Jasper still hadn't said a word. His shoulders were tense, posture straight-backed and unreadable. He didn't look at me once. But I could feel it—something between him and Alice. A kind of friction. A tension I didn't understand.

Edward, meanwhile, barely seemed present. His gaze drifted toward Bella's table, brow faintly furrowed.

The longer I sat with them, the more I realized how... off everything felt. Polite, sure. Welcoming, even. But just beneath the surface, there was a current of something else.

Everyone at this table knew something I didn't and they weren't sure if they wanted to tell me.

It didn't feel like a secret, exactly. More like a weight hanging in the air—unspoken, but thick enough to notice. The way Alice kept smiling too much. The way Jasper refused to look up. The way Rosalie looked like she wanted me gone before I'd even sat down.

Even Emmett, with all his charm and easy laughter, kept glancing at Alice and Jasper like he was waiting for something to snap.

Maybe it was just me. Maybe I was still stuck in my head about what happened earlier, the weird sharpness in my finger, the way Alice had flinched like she'd seen something that wasn't there.

I tried to shake it off.

The bell rang a few minutes later, and everyone began clearing their trays and standing. I felt Alice's hand brush my shoulder—gentle, but brief.

"You should sit with us again tomorrow," she said, voice light but a little strained. "If you want."

"Yeah," I said slowly. "Sure."

Jasper was already halfway out the door before I finished speaking.

The Cullens drifted out in a loose group, sleek and quiet and just a little too graceful. I stood there for a second longer, holding my tray, watching them disappear down the hall like shadows stretching under sunlight.

Something about them didn't add up. Not in a bad way. Just... not normal.

But then again, I hadn't felt normal since I walked into that chemistry lab. Since that moment my skin met Alice's. Since the bottle shattered, and the air felt like it had split around me.

I looked down at the thin bandage wrapped around my finger.

Still sore.

Still strange.

I told myself I'd ask questions tomorrow. For now, I just needed to get through the rest of the day without cutting myself open again.

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter as much as I did ^3^!!! 

[barrylyga]

From YA to Adult: Jasper Dent's Next Chapter!

It’s happening, y’all! Bridekiller, the first chapter in the next phase of the life of Jasper Dent, is real!If you've been reading my newsletter, you've already seen some pieces of the story, but now I'm here to tell you that it's done -- bar some revising -- and it's headed your way! Some of you may recall that I hinted that the “adult Jazz” series might be forthcoming as a self-published endeavor. It’s actually tricky, it turns out, to convince publishers to publish an adult series based on a YA series! So, yeah, I was going to self-publish it in order to circumvent that problem and get the story to you. But then a publisher stepped in and stepped up!I will have more details soon, but in the meantime, rest easy: Jasper is still alive and kicking, and soon his tale will continue!Speaking of his tale… I’m happy to report that people are still finding Before the Hunt and enjoying it. Over on Goodreads, Barbara gave the anthology five stars and devoured the entire series, saying in part:I enjoyed these books so much. My only regret is the fact that I finished reading them.Thanks, Barbara!If you’ve enjoyed Before the Hunt, consider dropping a review on Goodreads, Amazon, etc. And if you haven’t picked up your copy yet, here are some convenient links for ya:➡️ Allstora ➡️ Amazon | Kindle ➡️ Barnes & Noble ➡️ Bookshop.org ➡️ KoboIn addition to the news about Bridekiller, I’ve also been making the interview rounds again. Over on Shelf Awareness, I spoke with Siân Gaetano about Before the Hunt. And I guested on the Geek Freaks podcast, where I talked about writing in general and comic book/super-hero stuff in specific. Be sure to check it out! (This link will take you right to the beginning of my segment.)(This piece comes from my newsletter, which goes out monthly. For more stuff like this, and to get it first, sign up here!) Read the full article

[dyxtd21]

The Ancient Attainment:

(Chapter 2)

(Monday 1st, June, 20XX, 5:00 pm)

The day seemed to pass by quickly, and it was unnoticed by Zebra Jasper nor Ametrine, who was pacing back and forth, awaiting for someone to arrive, as was Zebra Jasper, who was seated down. Both of them didn't care that the day went by too quickly since for them and their kind, they were all immortal, and they would see the next day again and soon, continuously.

"Where is that bastard?!" Ametrine yelled quite angrily. A part of him didn't like when others were late, and if they were...well, that's another story. As for Ametrine's appearance, he was tall, at 6'5", and with an athletic body. Like all gemstones of his species, he looked extremely youthful, as he was in his 20s. He wore a 1940s attire, complete with a sport coat, slacks, button-down shirt, and a sleek Porkpie hat. His gemstone was oval-cut and on his right hand. However, those weren't his most prominent features.

His first prominent and noticeable feature was his whole colouration. Just like his namesake and gemstone kind, his colouration was a combination of two colours, purple and yellow. However, his colouration was split horizontal, with the purple colouration on his upper part of his body while the yellow colouration was on his lower part of his body, splitting just right at his hips.

His other prominent feature, which was hard to notice, was his nature. You see, Ametrine had only two, dualed, personalities, between politeness and...sadism. He was extremely dangerous whenever he felt sadistic. Many have tried to tell the tale, but... many have failed and met their downfall at Ametrine's hands.

In all honesty, citizens of Gotham City compared Ametrine to Two-Face but in a more flashy and upgraded manner, which was something that Ametrine despised, and yet, his pride and ego didn't.

That son of a...indecisive and dualed two-bit ain't nothing like me. We're so opposites. Ametrine thought one day as he heard the whispers and discussions of him being compared to Two-Face.

"Relax, Am. He'll appear. Take deep breaths, my dear." Zebra Jasper clarified as he tried to relax and sooth Ametrine with his deep and smooth, velvety voice. Ametrine gave out a low growl but, nonetheless, took a deep breath and exhaled, relaxing in the process.

Zebra Jasper was a gemstone just like Ametrine but only different and...intriguing. He stood at the height of 6'4" with an athletic physique, and just like Ametrine, he looked like he could be in his youthful age of his 20s.

His most unique feature was his clothing attire. He was dressed in a typical 1920s-1930s mob boss/mafia style with the addition of suspenders and a fedora, which was covering his whole face except his mouth. This made it hard for others to see his face and eyes.

Moreover, his other unique feature was his whole colouration, which was an alabaster white with jet black stripes, equivalent to a zebra's.

Zebra Jasper also had a commanding, enigmatic, and a sex appeal aura surrounding him, but nobody couldn't blame him. He did look charming and attractive to many, which made his business dealings and other jobs extremely easy and paired with his "grey" morality, he was always battling and choosing different sides but mainly, he enjoyed staying on neutral grounds, doing everything only for himself.

Zebra Jasper was also one of the Elites, a second high ranked gemstone, which, in the gemstone hierarchy, means that the Elites have far more power, more abilities, and are able to create other gemstones. These set of characteristics are only for the Elites, however...there were some lower-class gemstones who broke the rules and created gemstones by themselves or together. They were severally punished.

"You know? I had a thought..." Ametrine suddenly spoke out, snapping Zebra Jasper out of his thoughts.

"And that is?" Zebra Jasper tilted his head a bit to the right, interested in what Ametrine thought of.

"Putting a bullet through that two-timing, split bastard's hea-" But before Ametrine could finish, Zebra Jasper interrupted him darkly.

"I do not think that's a good idea, Am. We don't want the whole city to know about us and our species now, do we?"

"I guess not..." Ametrine replied slowly.

"Good. Now, that's settled, leave Two-Face to Pyrope. He knows exactly what makes Two-Face tick." Zebra Jasper stated while looking at Ametrine.

As if on cue, Pyrope opened the door to Zebra Jasper's hideout, which was a lovely furnished warehouse, and stepped inside.

With a stoic, calm but authoritarian voice, Pyrope reported:

"I have good news and bad news."

[popatochisssp]

The Court AU has me DEAD!!! If you’d be willing, what sort of outfits would they wear? I’d love to draw them!

Anon, I had so many tabs open looking up medieval-type fashion and armor, we're talking like 30+, felt super awesome finishing this and closing them all 😌

Anyway--

Sans (Undertale): What’s black and blue and white all over? Why, him of course! His jester’s motley features a black-and-white diamond pattern, offset by bright, rich, royal blue—a mark of his service to the king. He doesn’t wear one of those silly hats, though…because he wears a silly hood instead! Less chance of falling off, you see. When not in costume he tends toward simple tunics, of decent material and often still in blue.

Papyrus (Undertale): Almost never out of full plate armor, even in downtime, he has to dress for the job he wants and that means being a shining metal bastion of knightly glory at all times! …Though he does often remove his helmet and hold it by his sword at his hip, or fasten it to his steed’s side. He’s a very handsome skeleton, it would be cruel to deny the people the chance to see their hero’s face!

Sky (Underswap Sans): Soft blues and yellows, as a squire only lightly armored—greaves and pauldrons, a mail shirt beneath his tunic if he’s expected to go into battle—but he considers even that much armoring to be overkill for what he’s doing. Still, his Captain insists, and it makes his brother feel better, so he takes care protecting himself. He has some nicer finery to wear about court, as a nobleman, but tends simpler for anything that might be dirtied or torn in training.

Paps (Underswap Papyrus): Rich green and earthy browns, his clothing tends to be without ostentation—no embroidery, no gold buckles or buttons, or anything especially elaborate. He may be noble but he’s a scholar and a recluse and prefers not to stand out much. Still, the fabrics of which his clothing is made are always fine, as coarse or stiff materials quite put him off. Mostly cottes—long belted tunics—with the occasional robe over, if it's cold.

Jasper (Underfell Sans): Blacks and browns, sturdy plain clothes which can stand up to considerable wear and tear. Often wears a short diamond-quilted gambeson and some leather armor (vambraces and greaves), but always has a sword belted to his hip and a cloak made of dire-wolf’s fur draped over his shoulders. If ever he should need to acknowledge his denounced family name, he does have some finer clothing stored away somewhere—in red—and a shiny gold signet ring with his family crest on it.

Pyre (Underfell Papyrus): Usually in half plate armor, dark metal heavily scratched and scorched, dents meticulously hammered back out. He also wears a tattered red cape about his shoulders that billows quite majestically behind him when he rides or runs into battle. He will occasionally dress down in laced tunics and breeches, still in red and black, fine but not too fine as to raise suspicion about his heritage. Should all that ever come out, he does have a suit of pristine night-black armor he’s been dying to inherit and a silken cape to pin about it with a golden clasp of the family’s crest.

Mal (Swapfell Sans): Mostly black but flaunts his privilege and royal ties with purple accents wherever possible. Brigandine armor with a fine gold-plated gorget and pauldrons and a few other ornamental trappings—he is the Empress’ personal guard and must in some capacity be as elegant. Very fine doublets and tunics for his (rare) downtime, often with gold threading, but not fond of most jewelries.

Rus (Swapfell Papyrus): Dark colors and crisp whites, noble yet eccentric, he has a lot of fine doublets and other such court-wear but tends not to actually…wear them. He can mostly be found in loose-fitting cottes, baggy sleeves often penned up by leather armlets to keep them out of his paints. He has a fur-hooded cloak for travel or cold weather, but he rarely leaves his rooms, much less the castle, so he doesn’t don it often.

Slate (Horrortale Sans): Dark browns and off-white cream, simple rough-hewn clothing showing signs of wear and occasionally odd stains. He works in the stables, with animals, and being around animals so much makes it difficult to keep clean. He has a somewhat decent dark blue cloak that he’ll wear into town for errands, or in polite company—it has a hood to conceal the great jagged hole in his head that tends to make the squeamish or timid flinch away from him.

Papy (Horrortale Papyrus): Still hasn’t quite shaken the habit to be armored, even when it isn’t necessary, but he’s cut down from full plate to chain mail only, much lighter and easier to move around in—which is vital when hurrying to the training field for an accident, or running to meet a wounded knight at the gates. He wears a simple tabard over his mail, blue with red edging (the Queen’s colors), and keeps a pouch of bandages and other aid supplies belted to his waist instead of a sword.

Ash (Undergloom Sans): The livery of the king’s court, gray and gold, but dyed into fabrics suitable for common folk. He still wears gray when not performing at court, tunics so thickly woven they could pass as a gambeson and often paired with hooded cloaks, but he keeps his golds set aside until needed to keep them in good condition. He takes equal care of his shiny brass sackbut (it’s a horn, with a very funny name but an instrument nonetheless) so it always plays well.

Yrus (Undergloom Papyrus): Off-white and tan linens, loose and breathable for hot work in the kitchens, sleeves rolled up and pinned at the elbows to keep them from getting in the way. Always an apron about his waist, occasionally with food stains after a long day’s work but these he quickly tends to as soon as he’s able. He has nothing in the way of real finery but tries very hard to make sure what he has is clean and presentable.

Brick (Horrorfell Sans): Fine brocaded doublets of rich red and shining gold thread, as a duke and brother to a king, he does have to dress the part a bit. He wears more jewelry, especially rings, but nearly always still has his dire-wolf fur cloak over his shoulders. When called for executions, he dresses down quite a bit, in simple black cloth with only a leather pauldron over one shoulder to help brace the weight of his axe before he swings.

King (Horrorfell Papyrus): Half plate armor essentially at all times, even formal or polite occasions—he’s the owner of a stolen throne and all too aware that it could be stolen from him the same way he got it. His breastplate is scaled and his pauldrons are elaborately spiked, but it’s all black. The only pop of color on him is his crown, the same worn by Asgore and Undyne, gold and sharp, with rubies inlaid.

Merc (Horrorswap Sans): Chain mail over a finely-made kaftan and beneath a traveling cloak, the latter two with signs of wear from a long journey. His head is notably absent of a crown—left behind in the kingdom he fled—but a new one awaits him soon, of flashing silver and blue stone, depicting the phases of the moon. When fully established in his new kingdom, he may begin dressing as a proper king again, draping himself in the blue and silver finery of the land that sheltered him.

Ell (Horrorswap Papyrus): Browns, greens, and blacks, he wears light leather armor—really just a breastplate and vambraces—and a thick woolen cloak about his shoulders. He has no need of greaves for his shins, legs lost to an accident in the wilderness, but supplanted by magical prosthetics, living blackened wood provided by his land when he called upon it for aid. …Not that he’s fully accepted that it’s his land, keeping his crown of twisting copper and emerald tucked away in a saddlebag instead of on his brow. Maybe someday…

Pitch (Horrorswapfell Sans): Rich purple and verdant green, amidst a sea of black—he favors very fine fabrics with open lacing at the chest. Still not especially fond of jewelry, but wears considerably more decorative leather braces on forearms, shins, and even the occasional full-chest corset. (He has some chronic pain and the extra pressure and support in certain spots helps.) He wears considerably more plain clothes for knight-training purposes and when traveling wears a black cloak with a cowl that comes down over the hole in his face at a point, as the beak of a raven.

Nemo (Horrorswapfell Papyrus): Usually in half plate splint mail armor for his patrols along the wall, but favors rusty oranges, brown and black for the tunics and boots and breeches he wears out of it. Often carries a lantern, and always has tinder in a pouch on his hip. Beside his pouch is a war-horn in case an alert would need to be called, loud enough to make everyone come running if it’s ever sounded.

Sunny (Gastertale Sans): A cavalierly styled courtier, at first having made do with graciously lent clothing and now being able to buy his own in a whole variety of rich colors—yellow, blue, magenta, and on. His aim is to look at home in court, which means he must dress as other courtiers do, so he has doublets and fine tunics and many, many fashionable capelets with embroidery and stylish pins, as well as a few equally chic plumed hats. The other courtiers look to him now for the latest fashion trends and he couldn’t be happier.

Aster (Gastertale Papyrus): A bit more subdued in style than his brother…though only a bit. He favors black frocks, almost as a cleric would wear, but beneath them, elegant doublets in greens and yellows as vibrant as anything his twin wears, with fine silver filigree work in his buckles and pins and clasps. He’s the pinnacle of restrained class and taste and it’s no wonder at all that the king should respect him so highly if his care in thought is as his care in appearance.

Spectr (Transcendtale Sans): Deep, dark black from head to toe, most prominently a long hooded cloak with two eye-lights glowing in the darkness. He always wears gloves and never lets his hood down, as he’s not especially fond of his metal bones and doesn’t really wish to be seen. It’s difficult to see in the daytime, but at night he’s trailed by faint wisps of ghostly light in all colors of the rainbow, such a strange sight that many a drunkard who’s seen him has poured out their bottle presuming they’d had quite a bit too much.

PapAIrus (Transcendtale Papyrus): Full plate armor, of course, but as he’s now some sort of spectral entity, it (and he!) glows and is slightly see-through. Being ghostly has washed out his colors quite thoroughly which is unfortunate—mostly all white with hints of silvery blue—but on the up-side he seems able to change his appearance some by will alone, donning or discarding his helmet at will, manifesting a majestic cape for himself out of the ether, and so on. It seems a fair enough trade to him!

Xanth (Ascendswap Sans): A man at court now, he’s donned an eye-patch and abandoned the trappings of prospective knighthood, fully embraced courtier fashion…if a bit ‘eccentrically.’ He favors bright yellows and spring greens, flowing garments of fine cloth layered beneath and over leather vambraces, gorget, and tasset. All these are elaborately, intricately designed and certainly make the similarly intricate gold jewelry (with multicolored gems) that he wears at wrist and neck stand out, but it’s hardly in fashion… Still, the mystic’s thinking is often inscrutable.

Piper (Ascendswap Papyrus): Unlike his brother, very fashionable and eye-catching, in rich amaranths and brilliant turquoises, with even the occasional lavender. He has many fine embroidered doublets, threaded liberally with gold, and wears many pieces of gold jewelry as well—necklaces, bracelets, pins, and brooches. When showing the birds of the crown at court or bidding them on a royal hunt, he wears the livery of the crown-proper—royal purple and gold—and always has a thick leather falconer’s glove on his left hand.

Carmine (Underfell Fruition Sans): What’s black and white and red all over? Well, newspapers haven’t been invented yet, so it’s him, of course! He’s no jester so he hasn’t a motley to wear to work, but he is a performer and does dress in the livery of the king, which is red and black. The material is a bit finer than he’s used to, but being that he’s no longer wearing rags and rotting in a hole, he’s quite pleased with it and doesn’t mind the bright colors that help him attract the eyes of many comely nobles at court. Off-duty, he sticks to loose, somewhat open tunics—red still very much preferred.

Tank (Underfell Fruition Papyrus): Laced linen shirts, not especially loosely fitting due to his largeness in the chest and shoulders but he hasn’t burst any seams in awhile so the measurements must be somewhat correct. He’s fond of white and a true connoisseur of red, all shades from dark to very light. He keeps an array of small carpentry tools—hammers, chisels, things for measuring—in a roll on his hip, a dedicated apprentice to the core.

Vi (Swapfell Fruition Sans): All black, pourpoint armor beneath fine silk doublets but almost disappointingly plain otherwise—no embroidery, no ornament, or stitched pattern, or brocade. Over this he wears a cloak, equally fine and with at least some ostentation, a bit of silver stitched decoration that matches the intimidatingly clawed silver gauntlet he wears upon his left hand—a symbol of his wealth, if not his status. These flashy items are for matters of court only, as he has a much more nondescript hooded cloak and less identifiable sharp implement which he uses for matters of stealth and misdeeds when it is important that he not be recognized.

Hunter (Swapfell Frution Papyrus): A prince in princely attire…mostly. He happily flaunts the color purple but proudly wears it with the black of his old family name, and drapes himself in silk tunics, fine (mostly decorative) pauldrons, capes and capelets. He tends to show off a bit more of his chest than seems appropriate for a man of his station, and seems to wear his elegant silver jewelry in ways such that the eye is drawn there, and…other places, but few question the whims of royalty. His pewter crown is heavy and inelegant and he’s talked much with his brother about how angry people would be if he had it melted and recast into something more stylish.

Kohl (Descendtale Sans): Plain, rough tunics, in black and dark brown. He wears a heavy fur-lined gabardine as it gets quite cold in the dungeons, though it’s uncertain where he managed to get such a nice garment. He keeps a knife on his belt, large and jagged-toothed, and though he hasn’t had need to use it yet, the threat of it tends to keep most prisoners from attempting to bring him harm.

Bram (Descendtale Papyrus): He’s traded in his full plate armor for a comfortably fit leather jerkin, accompanied by matching gauntlets to protect his hands and torso (inasmuch as they need protection, without flesh) from the thorns he trims back every day. He mostly wears black and white and brown, all things closely fit to his body, less they snag overmuch and need to be replaced too often. His clothing is simple but well-suited to his work, and he wears it nicely.

[rocksinmuffin]

I am so happy to see that we can request now for Steven Universe. I am a sucker for big buff Jasper. My fav lesbian crush. Anything with her would make my heart soar (pretty pls 👉👈)

You like to think that you’re a decent driver.

Sure, you make mistakes here and there, but for the most part you are attentive, cautious, and able to avoid hitting pedestrians.

Until now.

In your defense, this was not a case of you not paying close enough attention and accidentally striking a jaywalker. The road was completely clear as far as the eyes could see; just long stretches of pavement and nothing else as you drive along the backroads on a way home from a friend’s house. Then suddenly there was a flash of something orange and the crunch of metal as your car hits what you hope is just a deer.

Your hands are shaking as you stop the car, activating the hazard lights even as you begin to hyperventilate. You take a few seconds to steady your breath, hands clenching the steering wheel hard enough to drain the color from your knuckles. Eventually, you realize you cannot delay the inevitable forever. With a deep breath and an overwhelming feeling of dread, you step out of the car.

“Please just be a deer,” you beg as the door shuts behind you.

The first thing you notice is the damage to your car. It looks more like you drove into a steel beam than any living thing. The whole front of your car has a nasty dent, your front bumper and hood nearly caved in from the impact. You’ll be lucky if the engine isn’t damaged beyond repair.

Then you see the woman just a couple feet away from you, sitting up on the ground and rubbing at her shoulder and grumbling something you can’t quite hear.”

“Oh my god, are you okay?!” You rush over to her, hovering over her to try and assess for the damage. “We need to get you to a hospital!”

“I’m fine,” she glares up at you, eyes sharp and bright as a harvest moon.

“You were hit by a car!”

“Yeah? And?” She stands up as if to show you just how in-affected she is by your failed attempt at vehicular manslaughter, easily towering over you at her full height. “If anyone needs medical assistance, it’s your vehicle.”

She’s not wrong. Looking at her, she doesn’t have a single scratch on her. No bruises or blood or any evidence she was hit. She’s all muscles and long hair and otherworldly beauty.

You shake that last thought from your head. Now is not the time to be thirsting over a big beautiful woman. Your body is just still high from the adrenaline rush of thinking you killed someone and the relief of realizing you didn’t.

“I… Can I at least give you a ride home? Even if you are okay, you shouldn’t be walking after an accident like that.”

She looks down at you, eyes narrowed like she’s stepped in something unpleasant as she makes her decision. Finally, her annoyed look splits into a toothy sort of smirk that has you audibly swallowing.

“Yeah, okay,” she says with a shrug. “Granted your car can still run,” she finishes with a nasty little chuckle before walking over to your passenger door and letting herself in.