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nahoney22 · 1 day ago

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Stranger, Saviour

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❀ Secret Princess Series

❀ Crosshair X Female Princess Reader

❀ Word Count: 4.6k

♔ Plot: When a stranger saves you from some ruffians, you’re quite curious about him. And as he takes you to safety, soon he will find out that he is quite curious about you, too.

♔ Warnings: Safe for work, Princess reader, hidden identity, strict parents, canon-typical violence, reader is a victim of attempted robbery, moody Crosshair, fluff, light angst, flirting, first kiss.

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"We're not going to ask again. Hand over everything you have."

This was far from how you’d imagined your quiet walk into the city would end. What started as a rare moment of freedom and to take life into your own hands for once, had now spiraled into something dangerous as a Rodian presses a blade to your throat.

You were a Princess or the Princess. People often believed that being royalty meant living without limitations, but that was never the case for you. Your parents, though loving, were strict when it came to your safety. Everything was annoyingly controlled which included your want to go on outings whether to a restaurant, bar, shopping. Literally anything.

So when you asked them about visiting the city, their hesitation was predictable. They insisted on sending a troop of guards with you but that wasn’t the escape you were looking for. With frustration bubbling inside you, you had retorted, perhaps more sharply than intended, “Forget it. It’s not freedom if I can’t breathe without someone hovering.”

Therefore as the morning rolled round the next day, you felt rebellious. You snuck out.

Dressed in a simple cloak with a hood, you thought you’d be able to blend in. No fancy gowns, no glittering jewels to give away your identity. But despite your effort to stay low-key, your behaviour gave you away.

Every market stall just called to you! There were so many incredible things you just wanted to have your hands on and with each purchase you made, you unknowingly broadcasted your wealth in the process. It wasn’t long before some reprobates spotted you.

You'd wandered down a narrow alley when you realised you were suddenly trapped. A human male blocked the exit ahead, while the Rodian held his blade steady behind you.

“I suggest you both move along,” you warned, voice sharper than you felt as you clutch tightly onto your bag of possessions. They inched closer, and your confidence drained from you with each step they took.

"We only want one thing from you," the human growled, eyes on your bag. You found yourself backed against a wall, your breathing turning shallow as panic crept in.

Despite your attempts at bravery, the Rodian growled in frustration, his blade pressing harder to your neck when you didn’t cooperate quickly enough. Just as fear began to overtake you, the unmistakable sound of blaster fire echoed through the alley. In an instant, both of your assailants dropped to the ground with a thud.

You ducked instinctively, arms covering your head, heart pounding in your chest. The sharp metallic smell of blaster fire filled the air, and for a moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to look up, fearing the worst that you’ll be shot next.

“You can get up.”

The voice was smooth, velvety, but there was an edge to it. Tentatively, you raised your head, your gaze finding a tall figure standing over you. A rifle was slung over his shoulder, and a toothpick danced between his lips.

"I—I—" Your legs wobbled as you tried to stand, overwhelmed by what just happened. You stumbled, and before you could fall, a firm hand caught you, surprisingly gentle but firm.

“You’re fine,” he drawled with a roll of his eyes.

Rude much? His nonchalance almost made you scoff, as if you hadn’t just had a blade pressed to your throat moments before.

“Move along,” the man said, nodding toward the exit. You start to move before you almost trip, you glanced down at the two crumpled bodies and gasped, hand flying to your mouth.

He chuckled softly and almost mockingly, nudging one of the unconscious men with his boot. “Relax. They’re not dead. Just stunned.”

You looked up at him, finally taking in his appearance. He had a tattoo over one sharp eye, and features so defined, it was almost intimidating. His eyes, piercing and focused, seemed to size you up with each glance. You had never seen someone so striking, and your awe must have been obvious, because he raised a brow, his gaze hardening.

“You gonna thank me, or are you just going to keep staring?”

Your cheeks burned as you noticed you hadn’t said a word. “Thank you sir,” you muttered, voice weak.

Without a word, he turned and began to walk away, and you watched him go, still too stunned to move. The two men at your feet remained unconscious, and despite his reassurance, fear still kept you rooted in place.

He must have sensed you weren’t following, because after a few steps, he stopped and glanced back over his shoulder with an impatient sigh. “It’s best you move before they wake up,” he said, his tone rough but not unkind.

You sniffled softly, a little overwhelmed. Your legs felt weak, and your mind was swimming with too many thoughts. You weren’t sure what you should do, or if you could even trust this man who had just saved you. But then again, you weren’t sure you had much of a choice.

He turned back toward you, his brow furrowing slightly as he approached again. “Are you going to move, or do I have to carry you?” He said it flatly, like it was the last thing he wanted to do.

“ I can’t,” you whispered, voice shaking. “I don’t know where to go.”

He glanced at the alley's dark corners before focusing back on you. “You need to get out of here,” he muttered. “I can… take you somewhere if you want.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’d rather not but I can’t just leave you here, can I?” He mutters once more.

His bluntness should have been off-putting, but something about him gave you a strange sense of reassurance.

You follow him as he leads you out of the shadows and into the light, winding through narrow alleyways and side streets. He doesn’t look back, moving at a brisk pace. The silence hangs heavy between you, and finally, you work up the nerve to speak.

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“Somewhere safe,” he replies without breaking stride.

You huff in frustration. “And where’s that?”

He stops suddenly, and you nearly bump into his back as he turns to face you. “Does it matter?” he asks, looking you up and down with an eyebrow raised.

You narrow your eyes, folding your arms. “I’d still like to know where a stranger is taking me,” you insist, “and I’d also like to know your name.”

He studies you for a moment, his gaze lingering just a beat too long as though he’s trying to make sense of you. But then he smirks, slipping back into his aloof demeanor. “Would you rather I left you back there?” he asks, moving a step closer.

Your mouth opens to respond, but his smirk deepens, knowing he has the upper hand. “Exactly,” he mutters, pulling a toothpick from his lips and flicking it to the ground. “Come on.”

You roll your eyes but follow, still annoyed that he hadn’t answered your question. A few minutes pass in silence as you trail behind, taking in the sights and sounds around you. However you soon notice you had drifted slightly off track from being distracted when you hear him mumble something under his breath.

“What was that?” you ask, moving to catch up to him. But just as you step forward, he stops abruptly. You stumble into a large puddle, splashing murky water with who-knows-what else on your shoes.

He turns with an unimpressed glance. “I did warn you,” he says, not quite hiding a smirk.

You look down with a grimace at your drenched feet. “These were expensive.”

He sighs, rolling his eyes. “Stop acting like such a Princess.”

There’s a flicker of annoyance in you, but a thought crosses your mind. Testing his reaction, you pull down your hood, meeting his gaze directly, waiting for recognition to flash in his eyes. But his expression remains unimpressed and unchanged, his attitude dismissive, which somehow feels…refreshing. For the first time, someone treated you like just another person.

There’s a split second where his expression softens, but he looks away before you can be sure. “Are we going or not?” he drawls, already turning to lead the way.

You purse your lips, holding back a retort. Still, you step forward out of the puddle and on ahead, pulling your hood back up and moving past him. You half expect him to comment, but he just follows without a word.

Crosshair moves through the crowded streets like he owns them, his steps steady, calm, and without a backward glance. You follow, trying to keep pace, though questions run wild in your mind.

"Are we nearly there?" you ask.

“No.” he replies, his tone curt.

You want to push, but there’s something in his voice, a kind of finality that keeps you quiet. And so you continue in silence. He’s a soldier, no doubt about it. You have met many like him but also many not like him. He holds a mystery that you strangely found alluring.

Eventually, he stops at a small diner, the kind of place you would have walked right past without a glance. It didn’t stand out by all means but perhaps that you needed… “This is the ‘safe’ place?” You ask skeptically but only receive a grumble in response.

He gestures to you inside, giving you enough room to slip in first. At least he had manners somewhere.

Once inside, he leads you to a corner booth and leaves briefly to get drinks. You take in the humble surroundings, feeling out of place. It was definitely different to the grand dining rooms you were used to. But it felt somehow homely.

When he returns, he slides a drink across the table toward you, then settles into the seat across from you.

“So…your name?” you venture, trying to sound casual. You didn’t want to spend another five minutes in complete silence with him.

He watches you for a moment, as if assessing whether you’re worth answering, then says, “Crosshair.”

You repeat the name silently, trying to understand why it suits him so perfectly. He doesn’t ask for your name, but after a small pause, you offer it anyway.

If your name stirs any recognition, he hides it well. In fact, he doesn’t react at all, just takes a sip of his drink, gaze sliding away from you and out to the street.

You’re used to people treating you with deference or admiration, but Crosshair’s attitude was unfiltered. It makes you want to ask more questions, to understand him, even if he doesn’t want you to.

“So, what is it you do?” you ask, hoping he’ll give you something atleast.

“I’m a soldier.” His tone is clipped, disinterested, making it clear he’s not one to chat.

But just then, the door hisses open, and your stomach clenches as two familiar figures stride in: the human and the Rodian from the alley. You feel yourself stiffen, dread rising in your throat as you watch them scan the room, clearly searching for someone.

Crosshair doesn’t notice right away, but your tension must give you away. He sets his drink down and leans forward, his gaze cutting to you with startling intensity. “Eyes on me,” he murmurs, his voice low but steady. “Don’t look at them.”

You try, your heart racing as you focus on him, but fear keeps tugging your gaze back to the pair. It takes all your willpower to keep your eyes on Crosshair, to draw comfort from his unflinching calm.

As the two men approach your booth, Crosshair’s hand slips to his blaster, and before you even realize what’s happening, he’s fired twice, each shot precise and stunning. The men collapse to the floor with a thud, unconscious.

Gasps fill the diner, patrons staring in shock. Crosshair tosses a few credits onto the table, unfazed. He meets your eyes, his gaze steady but with a hint of impatience. “Come on,” he says, his tone firm as he reaches for your hand.

Heart pounding, you cling tightly to Crosshair’s hand, and despite your best effort to steady yourself, you can’t bring yourself to let go. The whole city seems darker, every shadow stretching out like it’s hiding something dangerous. Crosshair glances back at you as he leads you further down an alleyway, his expression unreadable, but he doesn’t let you go.

When out of sight, he finally pauses near a quiet courtyard. “Stay here,” he says firmly. “I need to make sure we’re clear.”

“No,” you say quickly, tightening your grip, the word slipping out before you can stop it. A deep-rooted nervousness tugs at your insides. Your parents always warned you that the town wasn’t a safe place a lot of the time but you’d shrugged it off carelessly, eager for a moment of freedom.

Crosshair raises an eyebrow, clearly surprised by your reaction, and glances down at your hand wrapped tightly around his. There’s a flicker in his gaze, a hint of something almost soft, like he’s unaccustomed to the gesture, to anyone holding onto him this way. But then he meets your gaze and, with an edge of gentleness, says, “I’ll come back. You’ll be safe. Just give me a minute.”

The promise in his voice is enough for you to finally nod, though reluctantly. He slips his hand from yours, and you’re struck by how cold your palm feels without his. Your anxiety twists as you watch him disappear around a corner, leaving you alone with only a handful of curious strangers occasionally passing by, throwing you odd glances.

Minutes drag on, feeling like an eternity, and with each passing one, doubt starts to creep in. Maybe this had all been a mistake—sneaking out, wandering alone, putting yourself in harm's way.

But just as panic starts to tighten your chest, you hear footsteps returning. Relief passes through you as Crosshair reappears, his gaze flicking over you to check if you’re unharmed. He gives a single, satisfied nod and moves to stand closer. The smallest smirk tugs at his mouth as if he finds your relief mildly amusing.

“Didn’t think I’d leave you, did you?” he asks, his tone as unreadable as ever, but his presence alone feels like a reassurance you didn’t expect to need.

You let out a soft laugh, though the relief is unmistakable. “Honestly? I wasn’t too sure.”

Crosshair smirks, a low hum escaping him. His gaze drops to the bag you’re clutching. “You must have something valuable in there, considering the fuss you’ve caused.”

You shift your hold on it instinctively. The last thing you want is for him to realise exactly who you are, although, somehow, you sense he’s not the type to treat you differently even if he knew. “It’s nothing.”

Crosshair lets it slide, simply shrugging before jerking his head forward. “Come on, let’s keep moving.”

“Where exactly are we going?” you ask for what feels like the hundredth time, trying to keep up with his long strides.

He lets out a sigh, finally giving in. “My ship. That safe enough for you, Princess?”

You squirm slightly at the title, but he doesn’t seem to mean it in the literal sense. “Your ship?”

“Yeah. I’m not from around here.” He pauses, then adds, “I’m a clone. Part of an elite squad.” He says, almost smug. “Though I don’t expect you have heard of us.”

“I know of clones,” you say, “but I haven’t met anyone like you.”

He chuckles, the sound low but enough to make you smile. “No one’s like me.” His tone has a hint of pride. He keeps his responses short, but as you keep asking questions, he doesn’t seem to mind too much.

As you both turn a corner, however, your heart freezes. You spot a pair of royal guards, your royal guards. One of them holding a holographic puck with your face displayed.

They’re moving down the street, stopping people andquestioning them with urgency. It’s obvious: your parents have realised you’re gone, and the city is on alert.

Your pulse races, and you quickly lean against a nearby stall, pretending to inspect some wares with your back to the guards. Crosshair glances at you with a raised eyebrow, his gaze clearly questioning your sudden interest in a basket of random trinkets.

But it’s no use. As the guards come closer, one of them notices Crosshair and pauses, squinting at him with suspicion.

“Excuse me, sir,” the guard says, lifting the puck. “Have you seen this young woman? We’re searching for her. She’s… important.”

Your breath catches, and you hold it, refusing to look up, though you can feel the weight of Crosshair’s gaze as he slowly turns his head to you. The silence stretches uncomfortably as he studies you, the guard, then the puck, and at last, shrugs.

“No,” he says with a drawl, barely concealing his irritation. “Haven’t seen her.”

When the guard finally moves on, Crosshair growls and leans down, his lips dangerously close to your ear. “Can I have a word?”

Before you can protest, his hand wraps firmly around your wrist, pulling you away from prying eyes. When he eventually stops, he releases you, turning with that intense glare you’ve come to recognise. Yeah, he looked pissed.

You pull down your hood, trying to ease the tension with a nervous laugh. “So… maybe I haven’t been completely honest.”

“You got that right, Princess.”

Okay, he was pissed. An eye twitched in annoyance, his smirk wiped off his face and set with an irritated tight line. There’s no avoiding it now. You take a deep breath and begin to explain. “I… well, I was bored. And I wanted to see the city without an entourage, just for a few hours. Maybe I kinda overdid it with my spending.”

“And caught the wrong attention.” He grunts with a deep frown. “You could’ve put me in danger. If your guards thought I was holding you against your will, I’d be the one shot first, no questions asked.”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms defensively. “I would have told them the truth, obviously. I’m not reckless.”

His eyes narrow, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Because you’ve been so honest up to now?”

You’re about to retort, but you stop yourself. Instead, you let out a sigh, reaching out to place a hand over his. It catches him off guard, and his gaze shifts to your hand, fingers wrapped around his. He’s silent, visibly shy all of a sudden.

“Look,” you say softly, eyes meeting his. “I know I messed up, and I’m sorry. I’ll pay you for your trouble if you’ll just help me get back to the palace without… you know, running into more guards.”

Crosshair’s expression shifts slightly, the hardness in his eyes softening just a little. His gaze lingers on your hand in his, a warmth rising to his cheeks, though he quickly looks away as if he hadn’t noticed it at all.

“Fine,” he mutters, clearing his throat and pulling his hand back. “But if this goes sideways, Princess, I’m gone.”

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The pair of you weave through the streets, keeping close, but there was a heavy fog and not just from the town, but from the awkwardness that lingered over you both. You felt bad, truly.

Eventually, you can’t take his brooding gaze any longer. “Are you still mad at me?”

He gives you a sidelong glance, his eyes cold. “Does it matter? Not like my opinion means much to a princess.”

You pause, a bit taken aback by his bluntness, but gather yourself quickly. “Actually… it does.” You hesitate, searching for the right words. “I… I like you.”

His gaze sharpens, a mixture of confusion and surprise on his face. “Like me?”

Realising how that might have sounded, your cheeks flare with heat. “Not like that. Just, you know… You don’t treat me like everyone else does.”

“Maybe because I didn’t know who you were,” he mutters. “And maybe because you lied about it.”

You groan, rolling your eyes. “Fine, I get it, I messed up. But I wasn’t trying to lie to you, I just…”

He cuts you off with a hand suddenly against your waist, pressing you firmly against the wall. You open your mouth to protest, and raise your hand to slap at him as your instincts kicking in, but before you can react, he catches your hand in his. He tilts his head to the side, nodding toward a nearby street, and that’s when you see them—your guards, moving in tight formation, scanning.

Your heart skips a beat as you quickly look away, trying to calm yourself. But you’re acutely aware of Crosshair’s closeness, of his hand on your waist, of the heat radiating from him as he keeps his body protectively shielding yours. His eyes stay on you, never once looking to the guards.

A tingling rush spreads through you as his gaze holds steady, unwavering. You swallow, feeling an odd thrill you hadn’t expected, and his breath brushes softly against your skin.

After a long, tense moment, Crosshair’s voice breaks the silence. “The coast is clear,” he says, his voice lower than usual, almost a whisper.

His hand slips away from your waist, and you feel an unsettling sense of cold where his warmth had just been. You swallow, finding your footing as he steps back, but the rapid beat of your pulse doesn’t quite settle as quickly.

“Thank you,” you murmur, glancing up at him. He rolls his eyes with a dry huff, crossing his arms.

“How many times do I have to save you today?” he mutters, but there’s a faint hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

You smirk back, tilting your head slightly. “Not sure. But I know you’ll protect me.”

The playful lilt in your voice makes his smile flicker just a bit wider. He clears his throat, trying to hide it, and nods forward. “Let’s get on with it, then.”

As you near the palace walls, you look around for a discreet path. “We should enter from the back. Fewer guards that way.”

He raises a brow. “Want me to stun them?”

“No!” you whisper urgently, shooting him a frown. “If they wake up, it’ll just cause more trouble. I’d rather avoid that.”

“Then there’s only one option left.” Crosshair turns and motions toward the stone wall. You swallow hard as you take in the towering height. “We’ll have to climb.”

Your eyes widen. “I definitely can’t climb that.”

He shrugs, stepping closer with a hand poised at your waist. “I’ll help you up.” There’s a certain gleam in his eye as he waits, and you suddenly wonder if he’s enjoying this just a bit.

“Admit it,” you say, a teasing edge in your voice. “You just like holding me.”

His jaw clenches slightly, and he grunts something under his breath. “Just climb.”

With a roll of your eyes, you place your hands against the rough wall, finding your footing. Crosshair’s hands are steady on your waist, giving you a firm lift, and you can’t ignore the way his touch lingers just slightly longer than necessary. As you start to scale the wall, he keeps his hands stretched beneath you in case you slip. Not like your day could get any worse, really.

You finally pull yourself to the other side, heart racing more from his touch than from the climb. Before you can even catch your breath, Crosshair’s on the wall, moving with an agile grace that’s almost mesmerising. He lands next to you with ease, dusting himself off like he hadn’t just climbed an impossible height in seconds.

“You make it look easy,” you breathe, feeling a little flustered despite yourself.

He smirks, giving a lazy shrug. “I’m just skilled.”

“Modest, too,” you quip, though a small part of you admires him even more.

He glances over at you. “Let’s get you back before you cause any more trouble.”

You take the lead, guiding Crosshair toward the palace’s quiet, less-patrolled back entrance. But before you reach it, a loud, familiar voice calls out, startling you. Your father strides toward you, his expression torn between fury and relief, surrounded by several guards.

Crosshair’s stance shifts, his body tensing as he prepares to defend himself. But you quickly step in front of him, intercepting the barrage of questions from your father.

"Who is this man? Where were you? Are you safe? What happened?"

“Father, please,” you say, holding up your hand to calm him. “I know you’re angry—I shouldn’t have left on my own, but… Crosshair saved me. Twice.”

Crosshair, his voice dry and edged with sarcasm, mutters, “Yeah. Twice.”

Your father’s gaze hardens, a mix of protectiveness and suspicion in his eyes. “You saved her? Then I suppose you want a reward?”

Crosshair’s expression remains stoic, though his eyes meet yours for a brief moment. For a heartbeat, something softer flashes across his face, but he shakes his head. “No, keep it,” he says simply, giving your father a curt nod. Then he turns to go, his smirk fading as he heads off down the dim alley.

You watch him walk away, feeling a pang of something you don’t fully understand. You stand there, rooted to the spot, your heart pounding as his figure fades into the shadows. Without thinking, you slip away from your father’s side and break into a run, calling Crosshair’s name before he’s fully out of sight.

“Is that it? No goodbye?” You, breathless once you caught up to him.

He stops, looking back at you with a raised brow and a smirk that borders on cocky. “Surprised you’ll miss me, Princess.”

You fold your arms, biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself gushing at the thought of missing him. “Maybe. Will I see you again?”

He shrugs. “Doubt it. But… for you, I might reconsider if you do something naughty again.”

His words makes the blush you were forming deepen, and you sputter, “I’m not a—”

He chuckles, interrupting you smoothly. “Oh, I think you’re a little troublemaker.” He watches you for a second longer, stepping closer. He goes to leave for the final time but you don’t let him.

“Wait,” you say softly, stepping closer. “Thank you… for everything.”

Before he can respond, you reach for his hand and pull yourself near. His smirk fades into something softer, a flicker of surprise in his gaze as you quietly bring your other hand to his face, thumb tracing the edge of his tattoo. Then, with a deep breath, you lean in and press your lips softly to his.

He stiffens at first, as if processing what’s happening. But then, he relaxes, his lips moving gently against yours, his hand resting on your waist as he holds you close. When you finally pull back, he looks at you with an expression that’s completely flustered. That cocky, sharp expression vanished into the air.

A smirk plays at your lips as you ask, “What? Never kissed a princess before?”

He clears his throat, trying to regain his composure, though you can still see a hint of surprise in his eyes. “No,” he murmurs, the words a little slower than usual. Then, with a faint, almost bashful smirk, he adds, “But I could get used to it.”

Your smirk deepens, heart fluttering as you step back. “Well, maybe I should cause more trouble then… if it means I’ll get to see you again.”

He chuckles, the sound low and warm. “Careful, Princess. I’m not sure you could handle the consequences.”

“Try me,” you reply, holding his gaze a moment longer. Then, before you can second-guess yourself, you turn and make your way back toward the palace, a lightness in your step and his kiss lingering on your lips.

As you glance back one last time, he’s still watching, arms crossed, that familiar smirk lingering. But there’s something else there now, something that makes you certain this won’t be the last time you find yourself in trouble.

Especially if it leads back to him.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼　 ҉ ✼

Please reblog to support your artists and writers 💙

♔ Part One Tech - By the Willow

♔ Part Two Crosshair - Stranger, Saviour

♔ Part Three Echo - When Stars Collide (WIP)

♔ Part Four Fives - Masquerade (WIP)

♔ Part Five Hunter - Sparks of Nobility (WIP)

♔ Part Six Wrecker - Speeding Into Love (WIP)

More Clones to Follow...

Tags: @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @jesseeka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets s @sleepycreativewriter @starqueensthings @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @lamiliani @tentakelspektakel l @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @imalovernotahater @sithstrings @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @yunggoblin @photogirl894 @the-bad-batch-baroness @lulalovez @vodika-vibes @99tech99 @moonstrider9904 @crosshairsimp

#crosshair x reader #crosshair x female reader #secret princess series #the bad batch #the bad batch crosshair x reader #nahoney22 writes #tbb #tbb crosshair #bad batch crosshair #crosshair bad batch x reader #crosshair bad batch #star wars #clone wars #bad batch

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solar4seekstron · 2 days ago

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Tf1!Megatron x Cybertronian!GN!Reader: Plan C - A Deal

Part 3

Part 1, Part 2

TW/Tags: Toxic Relationship, Trapped Relationship, Megatron is a toxic partner, implied sex, couple make out sessions, Doubledealer cameo, Megatron truly loves reader, Doubledealer gets his aft handed to him, I believe that’s all.

It’s been a few months once more. Almost a year now since that night. Since then. He Showed you many times to not disobey him even when you don’t realize it over the days. Eventually you became more “ reluctant” to his advances.

You were just waiting until you were finally with sparkling to at least get a break.

When you woke up in your berth. You noticed Megatron wasn’t recharging next to you. Megatron was sitting on the berth, his back towards you as he looked down. You’ve noticed he does this at times mostly at night as he gets flashbacks of that very day.

The “betrayal” of Optimus Prime. And the many things he went through before finding out his life was a lie.

You soon sat up without much thought. Once you fully sat up. His helm lifted up. No longer hanging down as his optics wondered a bit. Still not facing you. “Sweetspark.”

His voice is deep as always but with tiredness tinted in.

”Come…..sit on my lap. I wish to hold you before our day starts..” His voice still makes you jump. You can’t really say no. Now can you? And so you got up next to him and moved to where you’re on his lap.

Sitting on one of his thighs as his arm and cervo soon moves around your waist. You didn’t notice until now that his other cervo was holding a data pad.

He’d keep looking at it and groaned as he closed his optics. “I have to meet this mercenary named..”Doubledealer”…..after my time ruling and making a name for myself. He wants to “team up”..Psh.”

He then tossed the data pad at the foot of the berth. Rests rests his cervo ontop of your thigh.

”He really thinks I would want to have a truce with some mercenary. What an old fool.”

You stays quiet. Only looking down at your cervos on your lap as he spoke, not daring to say a word to tick him off more.

“I guess I have a meeting today. He held the bridge of his nose as he sighed and his now red optics looked down at you. You looked at the floor waiting to hear what he’ll say next.

His cervo now holds your chin, lifting your helm to look at him. “Maybe it‘ll be alright if you’re with me. Every powerful man has a partner he adores. Heh…..Megatronus did with Solus.”

He then kissed your forhelm and sighed.

His optics closed as the arm around your waist moved. His cervo going to your panel, gently cupping it. I do have the privilege of having a lovely bot in my arms. On instinct your cervo gently held his arm with the cervo against your panel.

He chucked, his dermas going to yours. Giving you a gentle kiss as he closed his optics. Whispering I love yous between them. You returned the kiss.

Soon pressing his glossa against your dermas asking for access….

You accepted…

And so a make out session commenced. Your cervos on the side and back of his helm as his own rested on your lower back and waist. You’d both continue and hold onto each other.

The only thing heard in the quiet room is your kisses and small moans.

But this didn’t last long.

The moment was actually….peaceful. But then of course. He gets a comm from Soundwave. Needing him in the throne room.

He had to pull away. His cervo moving from your chin and answered the call.

“Alright we’ll be there.” The call ends and hearing that you got up. He didn’t seem to mind as he stood up and started walking to the throne room. You stayed close behind.

As you both walked you noticed how dark the back of the throne was. He continued to walk and you see a bunch of bots in the center of the room.

A bot standing in front of them full of confidence. He must be Doubledealer. Soundwave was waiting in the dark. The three of your optics lights being your only source of bright lights. Soundwave passed Megatron some data pads.

After he looked over them a few times he chuckled. Then gives them to you.

”When I snap my fingers you pass them to me in order. Understood? Oh and stay behind the throne to catch them by surprise. They won't expect me to be noticing them. Understood?”

He whispered to you. As he stared down at you. Your face covered in the red light of his optics as you nodded. He then gave his grim.

Almost soft smile as he stand straighter and walks from behind the throne as he spoke.

“Doubledealer. You sure are brave to come aboard my ship….”

He then sits in his throne as Doubledealer then spoke. Doubledealer having a grin on his dermas. You stayed behind the throne as he ordered. The conversation lasted for what seemed like an hour. That’s when you hear his snap.

Soon you walk out from behind the throne. Holding the data pads professionally. Soon putting one in Megatrons cervo that he had out for the data pad. You stay next to him holding the other data pads as you wait for him to need another.

You tried to pay no mind as Doubledealer and a few of his mechs stared at you as Megatron spoke.

”I’ve read that in many parts of the city and so forth. While I am intrigued…..why should I trust some mech like you?…..”

the two continue to talk for a while longer as you stay there. Megatron taking data pad and data pad reading over them once more.

Doubledealer continues to speak. Sounding confident and snarky at times. You only continued to look down and kept your cervos together. Before you knew it Megatron was angry…Really angry.

Then throwing the data pads to the grown and stand up as his voice roared at the bots. You see that they were a bit startled. You watched him as he took a step down the stairs toawrds the floor. From his throne.

He continues to speak. His voice still roaring as the others back up a bit. You only watch still next to the throne as he continues.

Putting his hands behind his back as Doubledealer tried to speak for himself and the others in his team.

”Not only are you disrespecting me on my ship! You also disrespected my hospitality of even excepting you on my ship! Giving you energon.

And what do you do?! Complain and mock me for my youth and worst of all!” He picked up Doubledealer by the collar of his chest with an iron grip. Causing him to grab at Megatrons arm with his cervo. The other mechs with him watching in fright and horror.

“Hey! Hey! Wait!”

”You….keep making eyes at my Partner!!!”

He then throws him into the ground. You were surprised as well. Soundwave staying close by to watch over you. Megatron continues to yell before kicking the bot further towards his comrades.

After a moment of silence as Doubledealer try’s to stand up. Megatron makes his way to the throne and grabbed your cervo taking you with him.

As he sat down, he placed you on his thigh once more. Both of your leg between his as his cervo keeps you close resting on your thigh. His other on the arm of the throne. You know what he wanted as he spoke. So before Doubledealer and the others looked at him as he spoke.

You rested your cervo on his chest and the other around his neck. The cervo resting on his shoulder. You looked at them as Megatron continues to speak.

As Doubledealer stood up Megatron only continued to talk down to the bot. That’s until Doubledealer spoke and megatrons hold on you only gripped more tightly on you.

Your chest close to his face as Doubledealer spoke.

After the two spoke Megatron chuckled. Doubledealer said something that really pleased him and Megatron soon spoke as his cervo gently held one of yours.

”I suppose I’ve been too hasty. I suppose you can help us with my cause. But if you so think of trying to disrespect me once more. I’ll have my guards be sure to teach you and your little minions a lesson.” That last sentence is more of a threat as his voice grew a bit deeper there.

He’d then kiss the back of your cervo as his optics closed while Doubledealer stuttered as he spoke.

“Now leave…….Everyone!” Doubledealer, his team, and the other decepticons soon leave the room. Megatrons cervos still holding you as everyone leaves. Once the room is empty you felt his dermas pressed on your chest.

”…..I hope I didn’t scare you too badly sweetspark….” He places another kiss on your neck.

He’d move the cervo once holding yours to your panel. “I’d have to learn to be a bit more….patient? Though I’m sure I’ve been doing that for long enough before…” You stay silent for a moment. “Megatron when I wished to join-”

“You are just a Conjunx, or have you forgotten?”

You soon felt a chill in your body. His red optics burning into yours as he stared at you. You slowly shook your head. “No…Megatron.” You said in a whisper.

“What was that?” He asked.

“N…no Seeetspark..”

He let out a sigh. Gently leaning his helm down and pressing his dermas against yours. You returning it as one of your cervos rests on his chest once more. You two continue this as as he moves your hips in front of his.

Your knees on both side of his hips as he pulled your frame against his. Little did you two know. A certain bot….the leader with optics on you before….Luckily for him…

Megatron doesn’t notice this time.

Ugh Brian Tyree Henry what is your voice doing to me !!!???😩

Y’all have been asking for this. I hope this fordilled your hunger for some more Megatron angst and toxic relationship with reader. Haha.

As always I hope you all enjoyed this and a repost is always appreciated. And like with the last part be sure to ask either through comments or messages for a next part if you guys want one. I am full of ideas that I will continue to serve for fellow fans of transformers. If you guys want this to also get more “Intimate” in a “certain way.” Just let me know. I don’t judge I’m the one writing.

Anyway hope you all have a good rest of your day and enjoy the next post!

#transformers one #transformers one x reader #x reader #transformers #transformers x reader #tf one megatron #transformers one megatron #megatron x reader #transformers megatron #megatron

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the-artist-grimm · 3 days ago

Note

Im sorry if you already answered something similar but does the twins ever reunite with Forneus in your au? If so how does it exactly work out, does Narinder, Anthea, and Forneus share custody?

Crimson Angel AU - The Situation between Forneus and the Twins

(Anon, @gerroacarnival and @xquaserh Putting all these asks in 1 cause oh boy this is a COMPLICATED question to answer oof. I wanna preface this that while I love Forneus just going by the characters personalities/themes of this AU the reunion is not as fairy-tale happy as it is in game)

Anyway-the boys do reunite with her technically, but not in the way Forneus dreamt. Reunions are good in theory, the long lost children reunite with their ‘real’ family, hug their mother, go ‘home’ with her, start life anew, but life isn’t so simple, now is it? It’s never that easy, not when one side clings to the memory of three day old infants and a reunion she'd dreamt of for so long it just became her expectation, and the other side has no memory and complex feelings on the whole matter with this slight feeling that perhaps while their mother loves the idea of them, she doesn't actually love them.

It's messy, complicated, and no matter what, will NEVER be the reunion Forneus wanted. The second they left her embrace, she lost the chance to be the mother she'd wanted to be for them, yet never realize till too late what else died with them.

(Putting this under the cut cause it's longgggg. The Twins and Forneus's story has so little in-game text that it's become this favorite thing of mine to interpret/expand)

The Two Parents

Forneus did and didn’t have a choice to give the boys up. When Shamura appeared, the newborn, extremely premature kits were already doomed to die, so the choice to either let them pass naturally or to allow War to take them as gifts with a potential of reunion was an either damned if she did or damned if she didn’t, situation. And in her grief and desperation, she chose the option that gave the potential for hope. She gave the twins to Shamura, accepted the golden skull, and waited. Waited for her babies to come home, waited as a mother who never really ever had a chance to be a mother-one who works off feelings but no experience.

Meanwhile when it came to Aym and Baal, Narinder never told them who their parent(s) were. How could he, when he himself had no certainty as to who they were? Though his 7th Vessel, Forneus, had left service specifically because of pregnancy, he had no means of tracking how much time had passed since when they first arrived (it could've been a century since for all he knew), nor any means to confirm without doubt that the black, newborn kittens were hers even once his next vessel gave him the date-he couldn't ask them to investigate something so personal and unrelated to their cause.

Their box held only their bodies, a spider-silk cloth which was their burial shroud, and a note penned in Shamura’s hand. ‘A Gift’ that’s all the note said. No names, no clues, no nothing. While Narinder had suspicions, he could not in good conscious tell the boys of a potential mother out of risk of being wrong-of getting their hopes up for a heroic parent only to be proved that it wasn’t her, or worse, told heroic tales just to learn they were abandoned all along. Vessel 7 was heroic yes, had a sense of justice yes, but during her service her luck had made her grow arrogant, had transformed flirting into a game of hearts and people into a way to get the upper hand-for all he knew, if they were hers, they could've all along been her means of trying to easily get out of vesselship. He just didn't know.

And thus Narinder raised them from there. He tried to use the title of ‘Master’ as a barrier in hopes that, if they did have a family awaiting them, he wouldn't take their place, (it was also out of guilt for being the reason they were trapped) but he also couldn't bring himself to fully shut them out either. The moment their dead bodies healed in the gate and they started to mewl for attention his unbeating heart bled for them, and he just couldn't deny them love because he knew how much it hurt to be without.

The Twins

As centuries passed Aym and Baal were content with Narinder as their 'Master'. He who told them stories of his time above, who taught them how to fight, who fashioned them clothes from whatever scraps of cloth he would get vessels to send-he was all they had and knew. When they felt the time to sleep it was in his paws they curled up, when they got hurt training or got bored it was from he they received comfort and attention. It was his magic which allowed them to age against the Gateway's stasis, it was he who saw their eyes open, watched as they learned to speak and walk.

But that’s not to say neither did think of whoever was left behind from time to time. Baal tried to keep hope that he and his brother were taken-stolen by the Bishops, with whatever parents they’d had having desperately tried to keep War away. Aym, meanwhile, only felt anger, bitterness and resentment, for who lets two three day old kits be taken and sacrificed? Narinder himself simply tried to keep neutral on the subject, not wanting to feed into either side in hopes that'd avoid a heartbreak or the smooth transition to their 'real' kin.

The Lamb

When the Lamb appears and starts to befriend them, it's then the boys suddenly find themselves feeling the same sense of security and comfort Narinder gives them towards Anthea. As the lamb brings them toys and books catered to their interests, teaches them to read, uses the crown to show them the world above and encourage their boundless curiosities. As nights suddenly see the lamb visit in their nightgown book and quilt in hand, letting the twins snuggle into their sides as the three are cradled against Narinder's chest while reading a book, and the boys fall asleep to a heartbeat for the first time. Narinder had always been stability and security, Anthea became tenderness and warmth.

Anthea teaches them what a 'Father' is as well, and the boys realize that's what their master actually is-he's their dad and tentatively start testing calling him as such, and while it's not until just before Silk Cradle they realize it (yet don't call them Baba yet) Anthea's long on their way to feeling like a parent too.

Which then begs the question…what of the parent(s) left behind?

First Contact

Baal still wants to meet them, he's always been curious and just wants to know who they are, while Aym is still angry and wants nothing to do with them. They got a parent in their master, and Anthea's their friend and practically a parent too, so why bother with the ones who abandoned them? Narinder overhears the boys debate over it more and more, and as Anchordeep’s door opens, Narinder hesitantly asks the Lamb for a favor.

He’d heard rumors of a shopkeep she-cat who wore a golden skull, and Anthea had been the first to confirm that cat's name was Forneus. He’d never asked a vessel to do such a thing before, mainly out of not feeling close enough to ever ask such a personal, unrelated to the Bishops, task, but he wants to give the boys closure, and Anthea would happily do anything to help the kits. And thus they're sent out, and in a bit of a side quest work their way to getting Forneus to sit down and just...talk.

She explains her side of what happened, how the boys were born too soon, how she had really no choice, breaks down, and as the cats had been listening in and Aym who's now uncertain feels bad, and he requests Narinder for permission to speak.

“Save your tears for when we meet” is what he says, and that’s all that’s said through the crown.

For Aym it’s an olive branch-he’s sorta gotten an answer as to why he and his brother were sacrificed, though he's not entirely sure how to feel since well...she still gave them up, but she looks sorry so... Baal's eager and happy to hear that they were cared about but is a little disappointed at realizing that she didn't really hesitate despite the situation, but regardless, both are willing to give her a chance. They want to get to know her, and then they'll decide how they feel after that.

They, do not, see her as a proper 'Mother'. Just someone who shares their blood who they want to meet. To then Narinder's still Dad-he's still the one who makes them feel secure.

Meanwhile for Forneus it’s proof that she’ll get what was promised. Her boys are not only alive, but they’re children-they’re still children, so she'll now get what she wanted and more. They'll reunite and she'll then take her children home to travel by her side-she’ll get to raise her dear little babies just as she’d planned, and while it took so long it's going to be perfect.

She's dreamt of the boys seeing and running into her oncoming embrace crying. That they'll love her instantly and had already because she's their mother so of course that's how they'll feel. How could they not? Children ALWAYS love their parents.

The Lamb promises to help her meet them once they’re free, and every visit after, Forneus tries to get the boys to talk again-offers gifts for the lamb to bring to the Gateway, rambles on about all the things they'll do together while the Lamb browses her shop. And...well they're things, at least. Most of the toys she offers are either baby toys or things that just don't interest the boys, and some of her plans are...plans. They're elaborate-taking them to X mountain, to X landmark, traveling here and there and everywhere. Big and grand and...and never mentioning their Dad or Anthea being there.

Baal thinks it's sweet how excited she is while Aym is getting more and more unsure-but even Baal eventually admits that she's a little...loud. Forneus is loud-she's energetic and eager and while he and Aym can be too, seeing it from a stranger about them is...weird. She keeps calling herself their Mama , and calling them Zamir and Delshad despite being told otherwise because apparently those were their names (a fact not even Shamura had been given. Narinder had to name the boys himself). She keeps talking about those three days they were with her, and it kinda feels like she loves the babies she gave up and not them.

Anthea tries to tell her about them, but she usually doesn't realzie since she's busy talking to her babies and not them, it's as if the lamb isn't even there. The boys can't even try to think of trying to talk-she never leaves an opening for them to try. Eventually the boys ask Narinder to mute the crown during the Lamb's shop visits the more uncomfortable it gets.

It's like going to a family reunion and being brought to your great Aunt who last saw you as an infant at your christening. She insists on kissing your face and hugging you tight and going oh how big you've grown sweetiepie and this and that and...and you put up with it because she's family but...well she's a stranger despite the shared blood. She doesn't actually know the you of now-and you don't know her.

Reunion

When the final Bishop falls is when Forneus suddenly finds herself left in the dark. For 6 months she sees hide nor hair of the Lamb, and gradually gets worried because where are her sons? The Bishops are dead, why hasn't she been given back her babies?

(The Lamb had been avoiding her cart during crusades out of both grief and guilt-Aym's dying word of calling them 'Baba'...it broke something in them, made them realize just how much the boys had meant. They had a shattered heart and endless guilt, and having to face Forneus and explain she'd never meet her sons? It'd been too much as a grieving parent themself)

The twins were revived after 4 months but Anthea only finally approached Forneus after 6, and she was too relived to finally hear she could meet them to bother asking what'd happened. Anthea invited her to come to the cult that weekend, and Forneus happily accepted, not even noticing the tiredness in the Lamb's eyes nor the uncertainty in their tone. Even on the day she arrived at the cult, she didn't mind the lamb, not even as Anthea gave her a final warning.

"There was trouble setting them free…they’re wary, skittish, they’ve been through a lot... I know you’re excited but please be gentle when you speak to them, be calm and keep your distance please they’re so easy to startle."

Meanwhile the boys waited at the temple with Narinder, who, for the hundredth time, asked if they were certain they were ready for this. Though it'd been 2 months, the toll of dying so traumatically via turning to ash, of being trapped in the gateway, the trauma of resurrection, the fear of being alone without their parents because that's what he and Anthea were to them, Narinder had wanted them to wait as did Anthea. The boys could hardly sleep without at least one of them there with them in bed, were just starting to be ok interacting with other people, could only handle the touch of a select few and even then sometimes would just break down into panic attacks out of seemingly nowhere. They weren't ok, but the boys had insisted. This woman who claimed to love them had been kept in the dark for so long, they felt bad and wanted to try.

They felt guilty for not being ok. Even as Narinder and Anthea repeatedly and gently reminded them that it was alright-that their feelings were valid, that they could take all the time they needed and they'd be right there to support them, the boys had insisted and they just couldn't deny them their choice.

But once Forneus arrived no one got the chance to even properly introduce the boys to her-she just saw them, ran towards them for the reunion she dreamt up, swept them into her arms, and next thing she knew she had two yowling, struggling kits trying to break from her hold. In her excitement and in not listening to Anthea's warnings she'd done the worst thing anyone could've done-she was louder, bigger, stronger, scarier than them, and as the kids managed to shock her into dropping them suddenly Baal was hyperventilating, and Aym was working himself into a panic attack. And Narinder and Anthea, having two months practice in calming them like this, and having long been the twin's safe people, immediately fell into place. Narinder got Baal, Anthea got Aym, and Forneus could only watch.

Could only watch as Baal started gasping for Dad as Narinder tried to get him to breathe, as Aym started sobbing for Baba and practically tried to bury himself in their embrace, as her babies looked at her in fear and clung to someone else.

And then all she can feel is anger. She'd waited 300 years-those boys were hers. Why are they clinging to someone else?

From there it just becomes a mess, she gets into a very loud, very heated argument with Narinder especially for 'stealing' her sons which just scares the boys more, and in a very poor move tries to just grab one of them which prompts Anthea to use a show of godly power and threaten her to get out of the Cult which she does since a crowd has also formed (the Cult was ALL aware of the twin's poor mental state, and they'd all grown very protective of the community's first children despite having to keep their distance because by gods those kids deserved more than what fate had given them).

Forneus leaves angry, and Narinder and Anthea now got two kits who had been tentatively healing temporarily back at square one, and who are now gonna start having nightmares of a stranger taking them away on top of preexisting ones.

I wanna note that Forneus isn't a bad person. She isn't, but she's also not used to things not going her way. As a vessel she was 'Lady Luck', she who rarely died, who always had the upper hand, who would pop curse shots at the Goddess of Famine for fun and be the heartbreaker of her own cult able to flirt and tease and talk her way to whatever she wished. She's kind and cheerful and charismatic sure and she genuinely does want to help people and do the right thing, but there's still this...ignorance, arrogance-that she doesn't even realize is there.

Like how above in Starfall Part 1 she VERY casually mentions how she 'knows what it's like missing her own twins' and 'how 'hard' it must be for Anthea to have nothing of their family to remember them by', but the thing is...she doesn't know. She's so hooked on this idea that she WILL get her boys back that she completely has just ignored the grief that comes with loss entirely this whole time. The way she misses her sons is NOTHING like how Anthea misses their brothers-she misses them like a relative you haven't seen in awhile but will see soon. Anthea misses their brothers because they're DEAD and they know that they will NEVER see the two again, especially now. Like Forneus has not considered how she's lost a LOT of moments with her children. They're still kids yeah but they're not returning to her as blank slates-though physically and mentally 11 they've been with Narinder for over 300 years, that's a lot of time to be without her. She loves them, but kinda more-so the sons she thought she'd get back.

Thus when you've been envisioning this 'perfect' reunion the entire time only for it to not go your way...it's a hard pill to swallow. She gets disappointed/angry understandably-anyone would, but instead of stepping back and realizing she can't fault the boy's feelings she takes it out of the ones who 'took' her place instead, which then turns her into this loud scary bad-guy to the boys.

And Aym and Baal aren't to blame in this situation, like they're kids, and like with my 'great aunt who last saw you as a baby' analogy, it's not their fault they don't immediately love her. She's a stranger-one whom, the more she tried to force interactions via the crown during their imprisonment, seemed to have little interest in them personally and more in whatever children she assumed she'd be getting back. And after that disaster of a first meeting? They don't want anything to do with her she scared them that much.

As for Narinder and Anthea they both feel awful because they understand why Forneus is angry, she only gave them up because she was promised a chance for reunion (though she ignored the CHANCE part of that), but in the same breath Aym and Baal are their sons and they'll take their side first over anyone else's. And the thing is there's nothing that could've been done on their part to prevent this really either.

Anthea telling Forneus the twins had died? Anger, grief, then upon their revival a fierce insistence for the boys to NEVER go near the Lamb or Narinder again, which the twins would've been just as terrified and against.

Narinder not showing care to the kits for those 300 years? They would've gotten attached to him anyway since he was literally all they had, though they might've turned out worse emotionally because of neglect

Telling the boys to wait longer to meet Forneus? She likely would've just shown up on her own within another month anyway since by that point Anthea had just freed Heket from Purgatory and word was starting to get around about the new God of Death so this would've happened but worse.

The only way Forneus could've had the reunion she'd wanted would have been if Narinder never forced the twins to start aging against the stasis. But then there would be two 300+ year old infants, which is a whole other can of worms.

Notes/Explaination

Again I love Forneus in-game she's so adorable and my one of my favorite NPCs to visit, but I also like making imperfect characters, especially parents and their relationships with their children. And while I love the idea of her being this wonderful, sweet, amazing mother, I also like the idea of her being really flawed about it to.

Crimson Angel is about learning to communicate with your loved ones, and in this case, it needs to be her looking at things from the twins view and realizing that if they don't want her in their lives, she has to accept that. She needs to realize that she's not entitled to their love just because she gave birth to them. She also has to let go of the sons she gave up that day-those three day old infants who were perfect little blank slates, and get to know the boys they became without her. She has to realize someone else took her place in their hearts, and realize that if she wants to join them, she HAS to let the boys come to her, and that she has to work on THEIR terms.

She cannot try and force a love if she wants a chance for it at all, and must swallow her pride and listen to others who know the boys better-Anthea and Narinder, alongside the boys themselves.

She'll get a relationship with the boys eventually, but it's not going to be the one she hoped for. She's gotta work on herself first and realize her flaws, maybe get some practice with handling children via unintentionally adopting a certain fan-favorite grave spider kid after finding him all alone, and just...wait. Narinder and Anthea are the twin's primary parents, and while Forneus does eventually get to a place where they're comfortable with her, it's never going to be on the same level, and they all just gotta contend with that.

Boarders are by @/lambouillet

#I love tragic stories can't you tell? Also stories that explorer the relationship between parents and kids-cause a lot of times kids agency #in the relationship is often ignored/taken for granted-they shouldn't be expected to love someone because of blood alone #*beats characters emotions to a pulp* it's for character development I swear!#crimson angel au #cotl #ask #cotl shamura #cotl narinder #cotl aym #cotl baal #crimson angel au lore #cotl forneus #cult of the lamb #my writing

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lilacxquartz · 1 day ago

Text

Those Late Summer Nights | Chapter 20

satoru gojo x f!reader x suguru geto

plot: moving to the city from a small town was no easy feat, especially to start teaching as a jujutsu sorcerer.

a/n: part 2, aka the continuation is now in process. warning for newcomers: this is a yandere story with dark (non-con, violence) themes. read on with caution. this story does not romanticise either concept.

masterlist • ao3 • chapter directory • < previous chapter • next chapter >

20. Promise

[3 months later]

You have never been one for goodbyes, but life as it had turned out, had already forced you to do so not once, but twice already.

The first time was voluntary; when you had left your sleepy hometown and the long-haunting corrupt influence far behind. It seemed like such a good decision back then, when you at long last, had obtained that prized referral to work at one of the country’s most prestigious Jujutsu institutions. It almost seemed too good to be true, and maybe that’s because it was, because, just like everything else in your life—all of the highs had to come down—inviting the lows to linger, to fester, to… rot.

The second time wasn’t by your own choice, however, but something far, far worse. If you were being honest, you couldn’t have made sense of your situation if you tried. Forced to flee from Tokyo following an obsession that went too far, the ever-lasting consequences of summer had consumed your life to the point where you were once again left a victim of an unrequited influence out of your control.

You’ve had plenty of time to think about just how exactly it all went wrong, too, and just for a while, you were happy to appoint the self-blame. In a twisted sense, you believed that it was your fault for trying to naively infiltrate a jaded world with such fresh hope. Maybe it was wrong of you to have dreamt of a better life; maybe you should never have tried with Jujutsu to begin with. Perhaps you should have taught the ordinary future generations of today because, it wasn’t like they didn’t matter, too. They were more responsible for future cursed energy than they even knew.

…But then again, how were you supposed to know that you were going to be so entangled between… them?

It wasn’t as though you set out to ruin your own life, after all. It was out of your control from the very second you let your guard down—from the moment that you placed your trust in the two people you shouldn’t have. That couldn’t have been on you, though. Surely not.

You did suppose, however, that in some sort of twisted sense, that your return to the city (albeit against your will) could have been considered a reunion of sorts when you were met with those chilling blue eyes once more. What was once a calm blue sea guiding the way now turned out to be a violent storm—its waves dragging you into the murky depths, anchoring you within it—but not quite letting you drown, at least not yet. You instead were trapped. Imprisoned in a floating limbo, forced to endure whatever… this… all was. It was humiliating, perhaps even insulting and you berated yourself mentally every single passing day for not fighting back against Satoru fucking Gojo when he confronted you back in Osaka, but then again, that same pressing question begged your rationality once more; how exactly were you ever supposed to go against someone like him to begin with?

Someone like him, who had the entire world of Jujutsu wrapped right around his finger.

As bleak as it all sounded, as harsh as the reality reigned true; you never had a chance to begin with, did you? Whether you ran away or stayed behind—it would have likely gone this way, because… after a summer of getting to know him, you of all people knew the truth (from learning it the hard way), that Satoru Gojo always got what he wanted.

You sighed as your eyes rolled back to glare at the fluorescent-lit ceiling, the pale flickering glow straining against your eyes. It was almost comedic with how dramatically it all came undone, like it was some sort of sick joke and you were the unsuspecting punchline right at the very end. Tokyo was supposed to be your fresh start away from the monotonous flow of small-town politics and its corrupt influence, so why on earth did it follow you here, too? You did everything right, after all, you studied hard and you persevered, you earned your place in the world, and just as it all finally began to fall into place… it unraveled. It was truly as though the string that you delicately wove through the passage of life was on its last thread, destined to snap from the moment it all connected.

(There was never a chance. There was always something in the way.)

You sat up, trying to avoid the light only to catch a flash of it reflected in the sleek black tiled floors. Closing your eyes in frustration, you tried to think back to the good times. You did suppose that the city was technically everything you had otherwise fantasised it to be; loud, noisy, and bustling with endless life. It was a far cry from the watchful and prying eyes of your quaint town. There was something… special about Tokyo because you were able to simply just… disappear, as one fleeting face of many, a living ghost blurring in and out of the crowd as you had pleased, free at last.

For it to have been taken away just from the introduction of three people, was almost hilarious. It was funny how that all worked. Just three people. Three.

Shoko, bless her heart, was your first real friend who guided you into the person that you desperately yearned to be. Someone both caring yet unrestricted from the confines of a sheltered former adolescence and then, guiding you into the further depths of it all, was… them.

Ah, Suguru Geto. If only you knew, huh? You laid back down with your head now slightly throbbing with a faint aura; the beginning of a migraine. These damned lights. So brooding and mysterious he was—it was a shame that he had to turn out the way that he did—a nightmare disguised as a dream. Was it your fault for admiring him from a distance initially? Did you somehow fall victim to some sort of manipulative act, when you found his calm, almost contemplative personality to be a comfort? His suffocating presence wasn’t something you could quite predict, after all, so possessive and longing, yet somehow subtly so. To have eluded the perceptive gaze of Shoko and even Satoru was almost impressive, but unsurprising because even he managed to fool you at times. Oh, how crazy he made you feel, even for just doubting him at all.

Then there was Satoru Gojo. Ah, Satoru, Satoru, Satoru… Oh, so ever loud and energetic, Satoru… Truth be told, you found him overwhelming at first, but there was a certain quality of his that drew you in. He was good at both carrying the conversation as well as involving you within it, making you feel special when the attention landed on you for just a second and dare you say, even… validated. Just like Suguru however, he couldn’t keep up the act for very long, though, even if he did crumble last. In some ways, he was the most volatile one out of both of them, because beyond that playful facade that he let on, was something else that bubbled and simmered beneath the surface. It was hard to tell at times, but it was certainly there.

Something that wasn’t quite calm, but maybe tender. Something that was… vulnerable and whatever it was, it made him dangerous to be around.

So in the end, if you had to truly reflect, then maybe it was all three of you that were at fault.

All three of you were that were victims of losing yourself in an attempt to look for something meaningful in that endless, unforgiving city. All three of you were subjected to the quickly fleeting addiction that you could never quite hold onto, of being both seen and understood. It was no wonder that you opened up too quickly and too soon, slipping on that pair of rose-tinted glasses longer than you should have. Maybe if you took them off when you had the chance, then you too, could have been yet another passing soul in and out of their lives, but you weren’t.

You got attached and so did they, and now, for a lack of better words, it wasn’t just your life that was ruined, but theirs too. All together, the three of you floated around in an unending, aimless drift, leaving Shoko to pick up the pieces (as usual).

The migraine faded and never thankfully developed, but you still grimaced at the light that flickered all the same. He was home, but not close just yet. All of those riches that lined his pockets and he couldn’t afford to screw in a better bulb for the lights or at least opt for something warmer and less clinical. You wanted to punch that light, to let it shatter and paint the room in a much-needed night, but you couldn’t. So instead, you were illuminated and exposed, plunged into the spotlight, forced to look at the pretty little cell he had confined you to.

Such continuous misery left you wondering if your life could have been… maybe… better if you followed Suguru. In a way, you missed his pretty lies because he at least tried to offer you comfort and see you for who you truly were, but he also hurt you, so you couldn’t forgive him. Twice. He hurt you twice and yet, your mind still drifted to him at times. Why? You couldn’t make sense of it—of him—of the very same man who despite forcing you to bury your past behind and move on—surely had an issue with never letting you go, with never letting anything that ever happened to you… go.

Did this therefore make Satoru better or worse? You didn’t even know anymore. They were both equal runner-ups for the worst human being, that much was for certain. Suguru may have been involved from the start, but he was nothing like Satoru, who was always watching right from the start, more closely than you, or anyone else had ever known. Those burning blue eyes so focused yet serene, locked on you in a way that almost felt invasive. If Suguru was the storm, then Satoru must have been the cataclysm itself.

Devastating. Consequential. Unforgiving.

Indeed, you were never free.

All of the hope, all of the dreams—everything else that fell in between—none of it was ever real.

The only thing that had ever remained consistent throughout this whole experience was the part where Satoru told you that he would never, ever let you go.

The lights above you were now starting to buzz and crackle, fading in and out with every muffled thud. He was approaching. Suddenly, you regretted spending so much time reflecting on the aftermath of your life yet again, knowing that you had spent yet another day moping around, thinking of them, of him… knowing fully well that you were never truly alone.

Satoru would reunite with you every night, on clockwork, never late and always on time.

His voice was calm, always welcoming yet never inviting. You always found yourself flinching as he greeted you, wanting nothing more than to be left alone for the night. Just one night was all you asked him for—it was all you begged for at one point—for him to not talk to you, for him to not… touch you. A single night was all that you asked for, a break from having to play pretend.

“Ah, [name],” Satoru cooed, lowering an unwinding staircase that revealed a mocking glimpse of the room just above. A faint reminder of just how close the surface was, yet so inaccessible. The entrance operated on a motor, using some sort of secret code. There was a dial pad inside of the basement he kept you in as a failsafe just in case it locked him in, but try as you might to crack the code, you never guessed it right and every time you failed, it sent an alert to him. “You haven’t moved an inch from where I left you last! Didn’t I tell you about the importance of needing to stretch, even if it’s just for a minute or two a day?”

“Please just let me go,” you croaked out weakly, knowing that he wasn’t going to oblige, let alone even humour you.

Predictably ignoring your request, he walked over to you, setting down a plain white plastic bag right where you lay, strategically positioning it so that you could spot your favourite snacks and drinks poking out.

“It’s been a hell of a long day, you know,” he continued, adopting a softer tone that almost sounded hopeful, “did you miss me?”

You closed your eyes in an attempt to block him out. “You already know the answer to that one, don’t you?”

Satoru snorted a half-laugh, seeming annoyed but also amused. “You’ll have to admit it one day, [name],” he reminded, “the sooner you learn to… adapt, the sooner it’ll start to look up for you, and maybe, just maybe…” he trailed off, letting the beginning of a promise hang, “I’ll let you see your friends again, maybe I’d even let you see… him,” he paused as he said that last word, his composed demeanour ever so slightly faltering at the indirect mention of Suguru, “so, what do you say?”

You repeated the same answer you always did, “Never, Gojo,” you sighed, already expecting the worst as he took up the free seat next to you on the sofa, settling right where your head lay.

You felt a cold shocking jolt run through your body as his cold hands cupped your face, tilting your head up to meet with his longing yet intense stare. He would do such a thing on occasion, hoping that you would return even a hint of the way you once looked at Suguru before, and yet you didn’t. In your eyes, there was resentment but also, if he looked hard enough, fear.

“What have I told you about being so formal, huh?” he murmured, scoffing a little, “we’ve been over this, you’ll call me Satoru and we’re… we’re going to make this work,” he reminded you, trying to maintain his composure, “I’m not letting you go either way, so you’re going to have to drop that at some point, because like it or not, it’s not up to you how it all goes… it never has been.”

You blinked, unable to reply.

Satoru’s eyes softened for a moment, revealing a hint of internally conflicting vulnerability, maybe even traces of guilt glinting in his stare. “We’ll play pretend for as long as we have to, yeah? We’ll make all of it feel real one day.”

His words cut sharp even if it was just a reminder of something you already knew, that there was some sort of unseen force meddling in the sidelines of your life, forcing you to endure whatever life had in store for you, even if it meant pretending that it was all okay.

One thing did bother you, though.

A question that you looped over and over in the back of your mind and yet you never did dare ask him, as if afraid to hear the answer.

If he was simply fulfilling his promise to never let you go…

…Then why was he punishing you for being here?

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kryptznnn · 23 hours ago

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Can't get this off my headdd!! Katsuki having a partner with a snow leapard quirk that gives them the appearance of ofc a snow leapard and also have like an ice quirk?? How would he react to that? You can write it on how you like I just want to be fed😋😋

♡- Different

⋆༺𓆩⚔𓆪༻⋆⋆༺𓆩⚔𓆪༻⋆

➸ INTERESTS; -mha! katsuki bakugo x f! quirk using reader

➸ BACKGROUND; - (requested submission) Fascinating was probably the best word to use for you when describing what you were. For Katsuki it was perfect, you were perfect, it's as if there were so many great qualities your quirk had given you his curiosity had grown into affection. He hadn't mind watching and studying you from afar, but when he felt a distance come between you two, he took action.

➸ WARNINGS; - wc. 1.5k, fluff, romantic tension, observing lover, indecisiveness, romantic confusion, kissing, friends to lovers' kind of trope.

➸a.i; - I know this is short and im so sorry ugh, i really enjoyed writing this though, I hope you enjoy it!!

⋆༺𓆩⚔𓆪༻⋆⋆༺𓆩⚔𓆪༻⋆⋆༺𓆩⚔𓆪༻⋆

Maybe his peers were right about you prior to getting close with you. He had heard about you, your features and your quirk being the reason why you seemed that way. He knew your features and personality sounded familiar as someone from his past, but when you walked into his class, he knew exactly who you were.

Y/n L/n, he had known you prior as a child, before you had moved away after being bullied for your quirk and appearance. He never hated it though, he always found it appealing. He had always been drawn to you out of curiosity by it, looking like an exotic animal.

The way your eyes flashed with different colors, popping out as the black lining around your eyes was sharp, your inner corners and waterline dark. He could tell you had applied some makeup to hide majority of the spots and patterns that decorated your face, but he didn’t like it.

He liked being able to see your entire face, and for the most part as he knew your quirk had been in effect for as long as you wanted. As the patterns took effect onto your skin it hadn’t changed the fact that the word snow within snow leopard was literal, also able to control it.

Overtime the two of you went from exchanging small glances in class to actually speaking to one another, as your friend groups clashed. He was happy to say the least, and his friends could tell from how he acted around you. Katsuki was quiet and focused on what you would do, treading carefully and even doing as much to not curse around you, making you laugh every time.

He never really liked looking into your feline-like eyes, it felt as if he was falling into a trap or unknown territory. Even if it was something simple as you waving or smiling at him with your eyes he would look away, his head resting on his hand before smiling softly. His favorite thing about when you would laugh, or smile because your canines would poke out and your ears would flap around.

He took into deep account everything about your physical appearance, studying the way you talked, walked, and even fought in battle. He couldn’t deny you were very flexible and strong, let alone when you used your ice type powers within practice.

What he wasn’t fond of was the fact that it seemed your relationship with him was becoming distant as you began studying with Todoroki. He understood why the two of you were close and had no other reason to study with one another as you shared similar quirks, but the feeling didn’t sit right with him.

He felt as if he was running out of time with you before things had even properly begun. He cherished the small times you two spent together alone, hoping you felt the same way. The times everyone would go out as a group and the two of you trailed behind as you spoke of everyone else, good and bad. He would say or do anything to make you laugh, seeing your canines or how your patterns crinkled slightly up to your eyes, you looked pretty-

No, you looked beautiful to him. The same type of way he watches his parents interact with one another and his father showers and serenades his mother with compliments such as ‘beautiful’ or ‘gorgeous’, maybe even ethereal. He was never sure on how to show you or tell you the way he felt, or the way he wanted you to see yourself how he did.

He had always thought that repeating the same things his father did was cringey, and how you spoke of cringey stuff all of the time there was no way he could set himself up. It seemed as if it was suicide if he even thought of doing so, so when he mustered up the courage to tell you it had apparently been too late.

You cancelled on him last minute as you were supposed to train with Todoroki, again. As you always had nearly twice a week every day for the past 2 months. It drove him insane truly, he hadn’t liked Todoroki any better beforehand and now it seemed to have gotten worse. Even when you all hung out as a group you were quick to speak about what you had practiced or learned from him.

It had kept everything within Katsuki to not cause a fuss and blow up in everyone’s faces, literally. He would just leave without explanation every time, going out and taking a breather before going straight to his room and going to bed. The best part of him was that everyone knew he wasn’t going to just give up or forget about you, one thing he loved more than being stubborn was a fight, and it wasn’t hard fighting for you if he knew he was set to win.

So, when you made it known to him you were free for the day and had nothing to do, he nearly jumped out of bed. Quickly getting ready and damn near sprinting out of his room, making his way to yours. Clearing his throat and taking a deep breath before knocking on your door.

He was nervous, for some odd reason, he never had been before, not for anything. So then why was he so nervous when it came to you? You were his friend, as he was yours, and he just wanted to tell you how appealing you are to him and that you were very nice. Friends don’t do or say the things he wishes to do or say to you though, silly him or not knowing that already.

You were quick to welcome him inside, opening the door fully as you stood at its side from inside as he made his way inside. You ushered him to the small decor you had in the center of your room past the bathroom, a large fuzzy carpet for the two of you to sit on. You were quick to speak first engaging in conversation between the two of you. He had barely answered, only taking in your figure and body features as you spoke.

When you were speaking about something you were passionate about you spoke quickly, your tail moving rather rapidly behind you as your ears never perked lower. You would speak with your hands too, as if reliving the moment as you wanted him to understand it better.

He thought to himself he must’ve looked crazy just staring at you while nodding, not even smiling or laughing at your remarks. He was focused on your words and actions yes, but he was also thinking about what he was going to say to you. Thinking to be gentle and sincere with you when he began until you began to speak of your training with Todoroki.

“And it was so funny because he fell and-“

“You talk about him a lot.” He deadpanned, now cutting off your statement as he really didn’t want to hear any further of him. You stopped and looked him in the eyes now, raising an eyebrow.

“He’s my friend, and we train all of the time with one another.” You said, now looking away at Katsuki’s intense eye contact. You weren’t used to it in all honesty, usually he was quick to pull away or look away from you, now things had changed.

“I’m your friend too, right? Do you talk about me a lot too?” He asked, his hands planted behind him as he sat with his legs crossed, his eyes never leaving your as he moved in closer. You backed your head away slightly, taking in his subtle flirty tone and looked away, your ears flattening slowly as your lip perked to the side.

“Yes” you said in a hushed tone, now looking down into your lap as your tail had remained still, the patterned prints and thin fur on your face now being tainted with a shade of pink. He took in your expression with a surprised look, as he had never seen this expression before.

It must have been embarrassment, or maybe you liked him. Whatever it was he wasn’t going to let the opportunity pass, as now seemed like the perfect time to do what he wanted too. More like what he needed too, it was like a nagging feeling in his stomach and chest telling him too.

Without a second thought as you picked up your head he leaned in and kissed you. After a couple of seconds, he pulled back, looking at your shocked expression. He was going to apologize, but as he opened his mouth a split second later you had already jumped back onto him, kissing him back.

His hand was quick to make its way to the center of your back, giving you support as he nearly toppled over. You soon broke the kiss after he had kissed you back, looking at him with a large smile, your canines showing.

"I think you're a lot more to me than just a friend."

⋆༺𓆩⚔𓆪༻⋆⋆༺𓆩⚔𓆪༻⋆⋆༺𓆩⚔𓆪༻⋆

✴🕷 please do not copy, plagiarize, edit, or translate any works submitted by me. all works are originated and all other pictures used within those works are online images. thank you!! @kryptznnn

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stormyelliotwritez · 1 day ago

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heyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy :> issame, mango

so I need our big ol boyfriend logan reading his writer!boyfriend's newest book and-

what is this?

there's a big, broad-shouldered, muscular man coming in sweaty, huffing from a workout- and just- trapping his boyfriend against the wall in a heated kiss, making sure his boyfriend's out of breath (and smelling just like him, I like territorial guys okie GAHAHHA)

guess who's gonna recreate it with the author himself :>

hehehehehehehehehehe yeah, i can do that, hubby! i hope ya like it!

BOOKS IN REAL LIFE

Logan loved reading your books. He always felt an extra connection to you when he did so here he was reading your newest one. It had been pretty calm. There was some drama and someone almost died and now the main character was at home, leaning against the wall for some reason.

He read a bit further and a smirk appeared on his face. So that’s why he’s up against the wall. He reread it but this time out loud.

“He stands against the wall, not waiting for anything, just existing. Loud footsteps are heard. If he wasn’t in his own home, he’d be scared. Out of the dark doorway, his big boyfriend steps out. He walks over to him and crowds him against the wall.”

Logan chuckled. Obviously his little boyfriend wants something in real life. He started reading again.

“His boyfriend is dripping with sweat and as he looks at him, he’s overwhelmed with feelings about how his boyfriend looks like a greek god. His shoulders are broad and his muscles just look so good. His boyfriend leans down and traps him in a kiss. If it was any other man, he’d be protesting but this is the love of his life and the man he trusts.”

Logan chuckled and shook his head. You really wanted something from him. He continued reading but this time, he found himself imagining it was you.

“His breath was taken away by this masterpiece of a man. His hands were locked in his against the wall and all he could smell was him. He felt him sniff the air and then grunt. Of course, he could smell the butcher. He didn’t go there for that kinda meat though.”

Logan chuckled and listened out for you. He’d go annoy you once he was finished reading. Only a bit more to go.

“He could hardly breathe, but it was so worth it. He smelled like him now and all he could taste was him, his sweat.”

Logan put the book down and smirked. He knew you like when he kissed you like that but he didn’t know you liked it enough to write about it.

He walked out of the room and listened for you. You were in the kitchen and now you were in the… living room. He wandered that way and poked his head in. There you were, leaning against the wall which is right where he wanted you.

He walked over with a smirk and trapped you against the wall. One hand was next to your waist and the other next to your head. He chuckled and leaned in.

“Someone wrote a very intense fantasy in their latest book,” he said lowly, his breath tickling your face.

You blushed and smiled. “And you liked it?”

“Bubs, I always like them,” he smiled before his lips crashed into yours.

One hand moved to your hair and pulled at it and the other held your waist against the wall. The kiss was intense. It took your breath away just like in your book. He pressed his body against you, trying to replace the smell of the big city with his. It was working because he was all you could smell.

You always forgot how he was so much bigger than you until he had you up against a wall, covered fully by him. You knew that was right where you should be, where you were meant to be.

His hand was in your hair, combing through it, and he moaned into your mouth. He pulled back for a moment and smiled.

“Gonna make all your writings come true, pretty boy,” he said quietly.

Before you could say anything, his lips were back on yours. You could hardly breathe but you weren’t complaining. You’d be in his arms, day in and day out if you could. You two were made for each other. You fit together like two puzzle pieces.

All you could smell was him. He smelt of motorbike fuel, that laundry detergent he loved and your little garden. That’s all you wanted to smell forever. All you could see was him, his big brown eyes and his hot beard. All you could feel was his cracked lips on yours and his beard brushing against your face.

He kissed you until he heard you gasping for breath and then he pulled away. He looked you over once, your face red and your palms sweaty. He smirked and grabbed your hand. He pulled you away to you twos bedroom, that small smirk of his promising more.

This was all you’d ever dreamed of, all you ever wrote about. Everything was perfect and you loved it.

#stormy writes things #x reader #x m!reader #x male reader #headcanons #logan howlett x male reader #wolverine x male reader #deadpool and wolverine #requested #requested by hubby

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dreamyyesenia · 7 hours ago

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Always Keep Simming - An unexpected visit - it’s time for action- NOW

Colin stayed in the Realm of Magic with Deanna Colton until early morning. As Deanna accompanied him to Glimmerbrook (to save him from another attack), Raven came running to them and told them some worrisome news: The sage of mischief magic, Jenna Blackburn, had been senced around Willow Creek by the specters! Aileen had called all parties to the Goth's house asap!

Meanwhile at the Goth's Manor, Lenore Goth, vampire child of Lilith Vatore and Mortimer Goth, ate the ambrosia Aileen cooked to help defend her against Jenna!

Welcome back, Lenore!

Jenna Blackburn came to the Goth's Estate!

⬇️ Full Story below

Colin Blackburn and Deanna Colton, the new sage of practical magic, stayed at the Glimmerbrook Gardens training magic for hours. Deanna then helped him to get safely to Glimmerbrook’s outer edges. However, as they were saying their goodbyes, a figure emerged out of the woods. It was Raven Newada.

“Colin, Deanna, wait!”, he shouted, running to them. “Hey Rave, what is it?”, Deanna asked. Deanna and Raven apparently already knew each other? They had no time for explanations though, Raven seemed troubled. Raven bent over, panting for fresh air. “It’s your grandma. She’s at your place.” Colin didn’t need to know anything else. He got ready to transport himself as far as he could. “Wait”, Deanna called. She came to stand by him and Raven. “Let’s go together. Call in everyone else too”, she said. Raven nodded. “Aileen already sent a message through her wormhole generator to space. Maddox and my wife will stay to guard the Realm. I’m coming with you”, Raven explained. “Good. Remember what I taught you, Colin”, Deanna addressed Colin. He only nodded. He wished he hadn’t left home. He had walked right into his grandmother’s trap. But he still felt like this had been the right move to make. Hopefully, his intuition wouldn’t fool him, this time.

Meanwhile… at the Goth’s estate:

Lenore Goth was ecstatic. She felt like a newborn. She was power, she was a creature of the night. She was in her element. She wasn’t alive but she was corporal. Undead. She was a vampire and this was her fresh start. And she was very, very hungry.

Aileen stood ready with her freeze ray in hand. Behind her, Pandora and Blurb tried to be as quiet as possible. “I’m so excited, excited! I get to test on a witch!”, Pandora whispered happily. “Shhh, please be quiet”, Aileen warned her. Jenna Blackburn was standing in the living of the Goth's Estate, looking around confused. She was oblivious to their presence because the aliens had started manipulating her mind the moment she had appeared near grounds. Thank the watcher for the specters. If they hadn’t warned Aileen, Jenna would have broken into Aileen and Colin’s house, where the kids and Alexander would have been. Aileen took a deep breath. It was time to focus, and making sure her aim was right. And then, Aileen confronted Jenna and she freezed.

#alwayskeepsimmingsave #ts4 #simblr #sims 4 screenshots #sims 4 legacy #ts4 stories #sims 4 gameplay #sims4 stories #ts4 legacy #ts4 gameplay #the sims 4 screenshots #the sims gameplay #the sims story

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aquaquadrant · 20 hours ago

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answering this ask for @lunarcrown to give some more insight abt the story side of things!

the way i create hels players typically stems from one or two ‘defining traits’ taken from their counterparts, like very strong personality traits or characteristics. these traits then undergo two routes: amplified or twisted.

amplifying a trait is like taking something more morally ‘good/neutral’ and cranking it up to eleven. for example: instinct has impulse’s good work ethic amplified into absolute hyper-efficiency. this leads him to use and discard people as he sees fit, manipulate and cut corners, and overwork himself and others to dangerous extremes.

twisting a trait is like taking something morally ‘good/neutral’ and putting a darker spin on it. for example, impulse’s friendliness has been twisted to insincerity in instinct, that ‘fake-ness’ of someone who smiles to your face and then stabs you in the back. if his friendliness was amplified instead, it would result in an outgoing overly zealous pinkie-pie type of character who gets way too involved but ultimately means well.

so that’s the difference between amplifying and twisting. ofc, not all defining traits start out as morally good/neutral, because not all overworld players are good.

now, tango’s traits are rage (amplified from bravo’s short temper) and sadism (twisted from bravo’s superiority complex). ofc, as we saw in the fic, bravo became capable of committing atrocities and even displayed some sadistic qualities himself after spending time in hels so there’s definitely nothing set in stone. these are dynamic characters that grow and change over time, for better or for worse. and environment influences that a LOT. we didn’t get to see much of tango pre-hermitcraft in HTP but rest assured, he used to be way more destructive. he attacked atlas on sight the first time they met, and spent his days setting deadly traps for no other reason than wanting to watch strangers die.

timmy’s major trait is his utter helplessness, an amplified extreme of the way jimmy will play more passively or take the role of victim (or the butt of the joke) in certain scenarios. it basically overwhelms any other traits that would manifest in timmy, but ultimately, he didn’t inherit anything that would’ve made him destructive or violent. there just wasn’t anything from jimmy that manifested that way.

that can be true for many players. now this isn’t to say that jimmy is inherently more ‘good’ than any of the other hermits/lifers whose hels were more violent or destructive. the worse an overworld counterpart is, the worse their hels tends to be, but there are always exceptions to this rule. and some counterparts may even be on equal moral footing (as we saw, not all overworld players are good, and can have hels who are better people than them). it all comes down to which traits were transferred to the hels, and whether they were amplified or twisted. it’s… almost like genetics, in a way. there are so many traits that make up a player but a hels really only builds off one or two, and it’s random chance which ones it’ll be.

(random chance in-universe, ofc. irl, i pick the traits that seem the most fun to build a hels out of hehe)

hopefully that explains things a bit better 💃

#hels to pay au #HTP worldbuilding

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the-dork-urge · 3 days ago

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Worth loving - Rolan ||BG3||

Short little drabble. Mention of abuse.

You had been so young when you first fell for him. His ambition and drive were mesmerizing, especially to someone as lost as you were back then. Lorroakan had seemed to have it all figured out—steady, purposeful, the very embodiment of what you wanted to be. You admired him deeply, maybe even envied that sense of purpose, which only made you cling to him more, hoping that some of his confidence would become yours.

But the years had changed him. He was colder now, less a man and more a statue of what he once was, sculpted and polished yet hollow. The warmth you’d once felt from him had faded, replaced by control and manipulation that seemed to touch every corner of your life. The boy you’d loved was gone.

And yet, you told yourself you still loved him. You held tight to the fleeting moments that did feel genuine, those rare times when he touched you with something like tenderness or looked at you as though you were everything to him. In those seconds, the years melted away, and it felt like you’d found your way back to him, back to the love you’d once had.

But those moments were always temporary, slipping through your fingers like sand. You’d search for them, try to make them last, but they’d dissolve into the reality of who he had become. And each time, you found yourself trapped in the same cycle, seeking solace in him, only to be left feeling emptier, more lost than before. But leaving him? That terrified you. Without him, who were you?

Then there was Rolan.. At first, he was just another student of Lorroakan’s, caught up in the same orbit, unaware of the traps laid out before him. Like you, he’d fallen into Lorroakan’s pattern of affection and neglect, and you watched as he was praised one moment only to be cast aside the next. And then there was the violence—the way Lorroakan’s frustrations manifested in blows. You knew those moments all too well, the scars they left. Now, they barely fazed you, as if you’d become immune to them.

You tended to Rolan’s wounds in secret, hiding in the shadows, whispering reassurances as you cared for his bruises. You told him to be strong, even as you quietly pleaded for him to leave. But as the words left your lips, you realized the plea wasn’t just for him—it was for you, too. Why didn’t you leave? The answer felt like a weight you couldn’t lift: One day, it would all be worth it.

So when you lay beside Lorroakan, a man who had become a stranger to you, your thoughts wandered to Rolan. Rolan, with his curiosity, his passion, his thirst for knowledge that came from a genuine desire to understand the world. He was nothing like Lorroakan. There was no arrogance in him, no need to control others—just a quiet brilliance and a warmth that ran beneath his wit, something gentle and pure. He listened to you, not as a formality, but because he genuinely cared. His gaze, the way it drifted to you when Lorroakan was near, held a quiet promise of protection, a reassurance that you weren’t alone.

And in Rolan, you saw someone worth loving. Worth fighting for.

That’s when you realized you couldn’t keep pretending. You deserved more than to wither in someone else’s shadow. You deserved a love that wasn’t twisted into something you barely recognized. So, in the quiet of the tower, you found yourself drawn to him, his face softened, his eyes filled with a gentleness that took your breath away.

You leaned in. All the lies, the manipulation, the twisted love you’d clung to melted away in that moment. This was what you wanted—a heart fluttering with hope, a choice that was entirely yours. And in Rolan’s arms, you felt it: the warmth of a love you had waited far too long to find.

#bg3 #bg3 rolan #rolan x reader #lorroakan #baldurs gate 3 #fluff

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nametakensff · 2 days ago

Note

for the prompts - crowded area w eddie pls!

Thank you for the prompt, anon! 🥰 Have 2.1k of pure mutual fetish AU filth in which E/ddie struggles with a cold on a cramped subway carriage and S/teve is extremely into it 😇

~~~~~~

Content:

M/M, established relationship, both S/teve and E/ddie have the fetish, E/ddie gets off to his own sneezing, cold sneezing, sneezing on public transport, spray, build-ups, announcing sneezes, mess, stifles, sneezing on someone's neck/into their scarf, exhibitionism/voyeurism, embarrassment, public arousal, teasing, brief fetishy dirty talk, mentions of sneezing on someone's face, mentions of sex/blowjobs, potential contagion

CW: People unable to move away from being sneezed on and they are not happy about it, did I mention lots of potential contagion

~~~~~~

NSFW, minors please DNI!

Steve wanted to like New York more, he really did. The past couple of days with Eddie had been a wonderful blur of excitement for the most part, but something he just couldn’t get past was the subway. Endlessly bustling, crammed tight with people, leaving him and Eddie pressed right up against each other, and more annoyingly, strangers. It would leave him begging for relief at every stop, only for the small group of departing passengers to be replaced entirely by even more busy, grumpy individuals. It was their fault for rocking up in peak holiday season and staying in accommodation on what Steve now recognised as an extremely busy rail line, but still. It was a lot for a small town guy to handle.

He sighed in frustration as another wave of people piled onto the carriage he and Eddie were wedged into, muttering a soft apology to his boyfriend as the pressure behind him pressed Eddie back up against the opposite door.

He really wished they would ease up just a little, given that Eddie was already having difficulty breathing today with his nose thoroughly blocked. It would be just their luck that one of them would come down with a bug during the trip they’d been looking forward to for so long. It wasn’t all bad, of course; Steve woke up with morning wood to the sound and feeling of Eddie sneezing against his neck, and the ensuing sex had been excellent.

Eddie had assured Steve he felt perfectly fine that morning, and to be fair, he had been. It was as the day progressed that Steve noticed a steady decline in the older man’s energy and a rapid increase in sneezing and coughing – though the latter paled in the face of the former.

“You okay, baby?” Steve muttered under his breath so that only Eddie would hear him. They were now pressed directly up against one another, Steve’s face beside Eddie’s. He desperately wanted to nuzzle his cold nose into Eddie’s unruly hair. Eddie sniffled, audibly wet and miserably congested, and Steve suppressed a shiver at having the noise so up close and personal in his ear.

“I’m fi’de, Stevie. Al’bost there.”

Steve felt Eddie’s hand squeeze his wrist, about the most movement he could make with people flanking his sides, just as trapped as he was. Steve’s heart fluttered, and he moved his head back to glance at Eddie’s face. Eddie winked at him, smiling even whilst looking absolutely exhausted. His poor, pink nose twitched, so adorable that Steve wanted to lean forward and nuzzle it with his own. He wanted to do so many things, and he was going to spoil Eddie rotten when they got back to their ratty little hotel room. A blowjob would definitely be in order – him giving it, of course. Eddie could only breathe with his mouth held slightly open, nostrils swollen and full of cold. The rims glistened in the overhead lighting, slick threatening to leak out at any given moment.

Steve maneuvered his arm so that he could subtly reach for Eddie’s hand with his own and clasped their gloved fingers together. Eddie sighed in response, slumping just a little as Steve leaned forward, effectively supporting him where the door did not. Steve tried to ignore the feeling of all the surrounding bodies pressing against him, focusing only on Eddie. The sniffling next to his ear was definitely something to hone in on to pass the time; he found himself waiting in anticipation for each one, his boyfriend’s poor drippy nose at imminent danger of running down his face. It was getting to him more than a little bit; he was grateful for the thick winter coat he was wearing, though he was sure Eddie was able to feel the manifestation of his physical appreciation poking into him.

It was only a couple of minutes later when Steve felt Eddie going rigid against him. He glanced sidelong at his boyfriend’s face, heart rate soaring when he recognised the ever-familiar beginnings of a pre-sneeze expression.

“Fuck.” Eddie muttered, starting to squirm, trying but failing to free one of his arms. Steve recognised the dilemma, but realised his own arms were just as trapped. His dick was definitely interested now, had there been any previous doubt.

“Shit, fuck. I n’deed to sn’deeze, Steve.” He murmured in Steve’s ear, and Steve felt a pleasant rush of endorphins flow through him, skin erupting in a cacophony of goosebumps. He knew it hadn’t been Eddie’s intention to work him up, but rather to express frustration. He also knew that Eddie wouldn’t hold his arousal against him, and that Eddie was probably getting off on this too, despite the embarrassing threat of sneezing uncovered in such a heavily crowded space. Steve’s suspicions were confirmed when Eddie’s continued wriggling pressed his erection against Steve’s thigh, hard enough that Steve could feel it through Eddie’s own thick coat.

“It’s okay, Eds. Just sneeze.”

Eddie huffed, ignoring him, still trying to free an arm. The grumpy looking man next to them who had been giving them judgemental glances throughout the journey also huffed, and pressed himself back against Eddie, evidently frustrated with the way he was being jostled. Fucking moron, Steve thought. As if his boyfriend’s face wasn’t a crystal-clear picture of a man about to erupt into multiple sneezes.

“Fuck, fuck, f-fuck-!” Eddie grumbled, sounding genuinely concerned.

Steve leaned forward to whisper into his ear.

“It’s okay, honey. Let them out. We both want you to do that, and we’ll never see these people again. Don’t be embarrassed.”

Eddie shivered, letting out a shaky exhale that Steve recognised as arousal amidst the hitchy little swallows of air he was taking in to fuel the oncoming fit.

“You’re a bastard, Harri’gton…Hh, HH-!”

Steve smiled, keeping his face over Eddie’s shoulder and pressing his thigh firmly between his boyfriend’s legs. He couldn’t see Eddie like this, but he could hear him, and feel every single shiver and hitch of breath; Eddie’s chest expanded against Steve’s own, pushing him back ever so slightly with each gasp. He pictured his increasingly desperate pre-sneeze face, an image he was greatly acquainted with and regularly conjured up whilst masturbating, besides. In his mind’s eye, he could perfectly recreate the tortured expression, Eddie's slick, pink nostrils flaring wide, mouth dropping open as his tongue pressed up against his bottom teeth. A mask of warring frustration and ecstasy as the tickle prodded and teased, until…

Steve felt Eddie hold in his last inhale for an endless second, rib cage pushing against his own, before he rapidly contracted several times in a row with a series of perfectly silent stifles. They were expertly contained, something Steve never ceased to be impressed by even knowing that Eddie had had years of experience with seasonal allergies – probably because his quietest sneezes still startled every person in the room at any given time.

As Eddie continued to sneeze, Steve was torn between concern and overwhelming arousal. It was enough that his poor baby had such a persistent tickle in his nose, sneezing over and over whilst pressed up against him, but he would be lying to himself if he said the fact that other people were also in the relative splash zone, for lack of a better term, wasn’t getting to him. Not that these stubborn little stifles, now starting to make audibly nasal squelching sounds as the congestion built up, were splashing anyone. Yet. He suppressed a full body shiver.

Steve leaned back as much as he could to get an indulgent look at his boyfriend’s contracting features, sneezing now in regular little intervals as though operating on clockwork. He glanced sidelong at the grumpy guy who had shoved Eddie and suppressed a smug grin as he now saw the dude was attempting to lean as far away from his sneezing boyfriend as possible. It still wasn’t enough for either he nor Eddie to get an arm free, much to their mutual chagrin. Steve felt bad for enjoying this as much as he was, but not enough to stop watching it go down.

Finally, the dams of Eddie’s hard-fought resistance seemed to break, and with one particularly desperate gasp, he sneezed without restraint.

“HEHP’TSSSCHHhhtt!!”

It was startlingly loud, even over the clatter of the train and the dull murmurs of other pockets of chattering friends. More importantly, it was impossibly wet, sending a fine aerosol of glittering spray over Steve’s shoulder and onto everybody else, helpless as they were to move away. It also forced twin trails of mess out of Eddie’s flaring nostrils, threatening to flow over his lips. Steve felt weak in the knees, worried he wouldn’t be able to withstand how erotic the whole affair was.

Eddie’s eyes flew open the second after he sneezed, already heated cheeks flushing a darker shade of pink, almost matching his twitching, sore nose.

“Fu’gck, Sorry…!” He muttered, glancing apologetically at the few surrounding commuters who were peering at him in revulsion. They quickly averted their eyes, perhaps out of embarrassment, or perhaps to steel themselves and turn as far away as possible as Eddie’s face started to ominously crumple again. Steve fought with every muscle in his body not to start humping his boyfriend’s leg right there in the middle of the crowded carriage. He felt dizzy with arousal.

“Bless you, baby.” He muttered into Eddie’s ear. He wanted to nibble on his earlobe; wanted to kiss him until Eddie couldn’t hold back anymore and sneezed squarely in his face.

Eddie had no means of responding. He gasped before sneezing again, and again, and again, each one increasing in spraying intensity.

“HAhGKK’TSSSSCHHh!! HAHDD’TZZSHHHHhtt!! EHH’GSSHHHH’Uuu!!!”

Incredibly, Steve was able to hold back a moan. Those sneezes sounded awful, truly overpowering and violent. He couldn’t help but wish for a reality where they’d sprayed his bare skin, or been directed right at his throbbing, naked erection. Thoughts of fucking into Eddie as he crumpled forward and sprayed him with a similar volley of all-encompassing, powerful cold sneezes ran rampant through his mind, driving him crazy with desire.

Eddie’s face was a mess; each forceful sneeze sent the strings of congestion further down until they dripped past his mouth and over his chin. His lips glistened with the aftermath of the clouds of spray that had burst out of him and onto the arms, backs and chests of the people nearby, now desperately trying to angle themselves away and cursing in disgust. Steve felt bad for Eddie to a degree, sure he did. Would have felt worse if he didn’t know his boyfriend, know how much this derision was going straight to his dick, as was the pleasurable sensation of each sneeze that wracked his slender frame.

“Shit, shit…” Eddie muttered through lips he kept otherwise closed against the mess, getting a breath in after that incredible loss of composure.

“Eddie.” Steve said, watching as his boyfriend’s gaze started to go hazy again, yet another outburst imminent. Steve could actually physically feel the wary tension of the people around them; it was incredible how much distance from Eddie they had managed to create, as wedged in like fucking sardines as they were.

“Eddie,” He repeated, “Sneeze into my collar, or my scarf.” He angled closer, twisting as much as possible to offer himself up to his boyfriend. Under his breath, just loud enough that Eddie could catch it if he was listening (he most certainly was), he added, “Time to make a mess out of me instead, okay?”

Nostrils twitching in devilish anticipation, Eddie managed to nod, pressing his face into the soft fabric of Steve’s scarf-covered neck as best he could. He gasped and trembled, arching forward with a series of muffled explosions, the soft wool tickling his sensitive nose fiercely.

“Hhh’MPPFTtt!! MPSHhh!! Hh’MPFSHH’uu!! Hh-!”

Steve’s eyelashes fluttered in pleasure. His entire body felt incredible, every nerve singing as he continued to live out possibly one of the hottest things that had ever happened to him - fully clothed, in public, for fuck’s sake. It was making him giddy, and he had to suppress the urge to laugh at the way the bodies around him seemed to melt in relief now that he took the brunt of his boyfriend’s misery. It was a pretty hilarious situation for the sheer misfortune of it all, to be fair, and he imagined it would be something they could both laugh about in the future. The other commuters, he wasn’t so sure.

Their stop was only minutes away now. As Eddie continued to shudder against him, even his muffled sneezing sounding out in the cramped space, Steve mentally prepared himself for the short walk back to their hotel.

#this one is *so* self-indulgent omg - really loved filling this prompt gahh #s/tranger t/hings #nametakenfic #sneeze fic #sneeze fucker #snz fucker #snz kink #sneeze kink #snz fet #snzblr

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obsidianpen · 2 days ago

Text

Watching Tom work was fascinating.

The way he emitted magic, either from the tip of his wand or from his very fingertips, was nothing short of awe-inspiring. He moved with an enviable fluidity, weaving and unweaving enchantments as though he had always been able to do so, as effortless for him as breathing.

Well, perhaps not quite so easily, Hermione thought, observing him none too discreetly from over the top of her book. Tom’s brows were furrowed in concentration as he coaxed and prodded at the temperamental memory in the basin, forcing magic into and around it in rushing spells that were sometimes gentle and sometimes not. Beneath his hands and wand the memory flared, shimmered, or sparked in response.

My memory. The violated, tampered-with memory of my test…

But Hermione couldn’t allow herself to dwell too much on how Tom might go about fixing it—literally. If she so much as attempted to ponder what she, personally, would do to reconstruct it, she was struck with an instant and debilitating headache.

It had already happened twice, and her mind was still buzzing uncomfortably. Tom hadn’t been pleased when she’d needed to explain what was happening to her and why.

She couldn’t try and repair her own tampered memories… because she had signed away the right to when she’d signed the contract. She could do nothing to help him—which was a shame, really, because she was quite good with memory charms of all kinds, having cast and reversed many of her own.

Hermione could hardly blame Tom for being as furious as he was when she’d told him this. He hadn’t technically yelled at her once for signing a magically binding contract with the MACUSA (with a blood quill, no less), and it was almost worse that he hadn’t. His response at the reminder had, instead, been a glare that made her feel much too small, a frigid bout of silence that made her feel like hiding under the table, and the simple, softly spoken instructions to sit down, make herself useful in some other way, and to not distract him.

At least he let me get dressed first, she thought sourly—albeit he still hadn’t revealed what clothing he may have gotten for her, if any. She was still stuck wearing his much too large clothing, and she was starting to think that the only reason he wasn’t giving her anything else was because he liked seeing her in it.

Making herself useful, however, was proving to be difficult. Focus, Hermione told herself. She looked back down at her book, this time reading one Tom had brought about advanced warding techniques—and immediately lost focus. Again.

The broken memory in the basin flaked angrily. Tom murmured something under his breath, his eyes narrowed as he cast some new sort of magic over it, trying something else.

The MACUSA really must have done a number on my memory, for it to be this difficult to repair, Hermione lamented. But that was about as much as she could dwell on it before her head started to hurt.

Concentrate on the book—try to find some passage to convince him to alter the wards around the cottage, maybe. To let me influence them too, so I’m not trapped here.

That would be the smart thing, Hermione knew. And she was trying. But as soon as she would find herself immersed in the text before her, there would be another flash or a spark and Hermione would find herself looking up, her eyes drawn to the Pensieve and the rippling magic and—

Tom was simply too fucking attractive.

It caused Hermione no small amount of shame to find herself continuously drawn to watching him. Ogling, more like, she admitted to herself. Tom was shirtless, for one—he was wearing nothing but a pair of the same sweatpants that hardly stayed up on her, and that was all. His chest was bare, the flickering light of the magic he conjured casting shadows that enhanced every line on his torso, every muscle—and those arms. How did he have such nice arms? Which was to say nothing of his agile hands; those long, nimble fingers were mesmerizing, the way they exuded magic, the way they deftly handled his wand, and it was no wonder he was so good at—

Hermione quickly raised the book up to cover her face, grasped by the irrational fear that he might catch her staring and blushing. He wouldn’t. Tom was so deeply focused on his spell casting that she might as well have not been in the room.

Maybe I shouldn’t be in the room, Hermione realized. She wasn’t exactly focusing properly herself. I might be better off locking myself in the bedroom where I can’t see him.

She was just about to do that, had just gotten to her feet, when there was an especially bright flare of magic. Tom lifted his wand, and his face, which had been drawn in frustration before, lit up in triumph.

Hermione approached the Pensieve, and she could see at once that he had succeeded. The memory was no longer a cloudy white, furious thing, swirling like a small storm in the basin, but was calm, a languid quality to it as it ebbed and flowed, not quite liquid, not quite gas.

Exactly what a healthy memory should look like.

“You did it,” Hermione said, both deeply impressed and yet not at all surprised. “You fixed it.”

Tom wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand and looked at her, grinning. A moment later, however, and his victorious expression fell, turning to that cold, analytic stare. He looked from her to the basin and back again. His grip on his wand tightened.

“Don’t you dare,” Hermione said, as though she were in any position to issue threats. “I swear, Tom, if you think about watching my own memory without me, I will lose it.”

Tom’s lips twitched. “Am I that predictable?” he said, not denying that he was considering doing exactly that.

“Yes,” Hermione said. “You are. And if you do something to keep me out of there while you go in and watch what happened, leaving me in the dark, trust me when I say I’ll find a way to make you regret it.”

To her surprise, Tom didn’t look angered by her daring; he seemed amused. “That’s no way to thank me for my incredible prowess,” he said, nodding towards the Pensieve. “There were some very tricky spells in that memory… you probably wouldn’t have been able to break them, even if you could have tried.”

“I—yes I would have!”

“We’ll never know, will we?” Tom’s smile darkened a little, tinged once more by the rage at her past, poor decision making. “But that, hopefully, will be one of the few mysteries we’ll never get to solve… unlike this one.”

He grabbed her hand and pulled her close to him. When he looked down into the basin, Hermione could see the swirling, smooth silver of the memory reflected in his eyes.

“Shall we?” he said.

Hermione swallowed back her fear and nodded. Here goes nothing, she thought. Or everything.

Tom held her tighter, and together, they tipped into the past.

#Blood and gold #snippet #blood and gold snippet #tomione

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solar4seekstron · 2 days ago

Text

(Requested) TFOne!Sentinel x Model!GN!Cogged!Cybertronian!Reader Oneshot: I Wasn’t Offering Part 1

Part 2

TW/Tags: possessiveness, forced relationship, trapped, cogged!reader, scary Sentinel.

You were a model. Performing for many higher ups and showing off new paint jobs and polish. Posing for the media and data pad magazines.

This was something you did in order to make enough to get more energon and treats for the miners who work tirelessly for the city. Always bringing them plenty of energon and treats that they worked for.

You were good pals and on good terms mostly with the miners Elita, Orion, and D-16, who you saw every day after a day of work. One day.

On a very special night you were modeling for a live singers even of Iacon and were to pose as one of the primes. You being Prima. After the show you were still covered in gold Cybertronian jewelry and the paint of gold and white on your frame.

As well as the face make up.

You honestly loved the look. You wont lie. As you made it to your dressing room with a few others. You manager was the one to tell you you had a special visitor. And so as you made your way.

You realized you were headed to a room for VIPs who speak to the singers and dancers.

A place to hang out. You though the singer wanted to speak with you or something.

But as you made your way too the room and opened the door. You saw that it was just Sentinel there. He was laid back against the sofa as the room played soft music.

His arms placed on the top of the sofa as his cervos hang. His legs spread as he sat there without a care. At this point you had the make up of but the jewelery was still on. The singer letting you and the other models keep them as a gift.

You walked in as he then noticed you. Not sitting up but his usual smile to the city soon appearing. “Ah Y/N! The Model of Iacon! Glad to finally meet you sweetspark.”

You chuckled a bit at his words once he said “sweetspark”.

You’d stand there putting your cervos behind your back as you looked at him. “Is there something you needed Sentinel Prime?” Your voice was soft.

”Ah just Sentinel is fine babe. Now why don’t you take a seat.” He gestured to the seat next to him. But you pretended to not notice. Turning your head soon and sitting in the sofa across from him. He lost his smile for a moment and his eyes narrowed.

But it wasn’t like that before he went back to smiling. He’d then stand up and walk over to you. “You know I’ve always enjoyed your work as a model. Seeing that you’re always so well fit and such.” He chuckled.

You did the same. Flattered by his compliments as your cervos rest on your lap, as he stands before you. His cervo then gently holds your chin. “That jewelry is a cheap…..”

His helm then leaned down closer to yours as he examined them then look back at you optics to optics.

”Let me get you better ones.” You only stared at him. Uncertainty in your optics as the cervo once holding your chin then moved to the neck less laying against your chest. Gently rubbing it between his digits. “Tell me.”

His voice was low as he spoke. The same cervo moving down before holding your waist.

”How would you like to be more in the city of Iacon.”

His cervo gently pulls you a bit closer to your frame. “And be seen by my side.”

He whispered into your audio sensors. You froze for a moment. You had many other higher up femmes and mechs. Bigger and smaller then you give you the offer but that wouldn’t always land long and would go to the next hot topic in the city.

You gently set your cervos against his chest. He looked a bit confused for a moment before you spoke.

“Sorry..Sentinel. But.” You stood up creating some distance between you two. As you spoke.

”I made a promise to myself when gaining my ‘populatiry’ I would only do it to help those who want to do better on my people and the miners who work hard for us everyday. And I wont just ‘join’ anyone who just wishes to use me for status and looks like some eye candy.”

As you spoke his optics were narrow and he only sighed and took a step. He then let out a deep chuckle. “Goodness no my dear. I have no intentions of keeping you only for a few days or anything….”

His frame almost touches yours. His optics narrowed as you stared up at him.

”When I say I’ve been watching you…I mean.” Both of his cervos gently grab your waist keeping you still. “I want a model of Iacon to be…mine.” He said in an almost sinister way.

“I have seen you. Been watching you. Always taking care of my miners everyday after you work. And not to mention how hard you try to stay the way you look. I’ll admit I have a crush on you. And so.”

He then sat down pulling you onto his lap. Only sitting on one of his thighs as he then picks up an energon drink that was on the table. Your cervos on his shoulder and chest as he took a sip of his drink. Then looked back at you. “Why don’t you be a good bot and accept my offer hm?

You can live like a true ruler on my side. And continue to help your mining friends…”

You stay quiet for a moment before speaking. “And if I refuse?”

He said in a low voice once more. You only looked at him unsure. He can tell and brought your leg up moving it around his waist as he stared at you. Now fully on his lap as his cervos remain on your aft. Your cervos still in place.

”I’m afraid what I said wasn’t a request.” He said in a threatening way. His cervos grip tightens as he rests a kiss on your chest after leaning forward.

You were frozen.

Even as you lightly push against his shoulder and chest it get up. His grip only got more tighter and tighter. “I wouldn’t try it. You see sweetsaprk when I want something I expect it to be mine in less then a second. So….be a good bot….will you?” His optics looking up at you. Almost narrowed.

You knew he was threatening up. In his own way. You could only stare down at him. Did you really have a choice now? You were…shaking..Just by the look of his optics you know he’s mad.

”Shh shh shh sweetspark no need to be scared..” One of his cervos move from your aft to the tip on your thigh. Gently squeezing.

”You just have to say yes…and…Non of your mining friends have to get hurt….” You two stay still for a moment. You looked down thinking. Your cervos moving to your own lap as you grow unsure. Against your better judgment….You agreed…

The image of those miners like Elita, D, and Orion coming to mind. You’d slowly nod. Still looking down.

”Look at me.” He spoke. And so you looked at him. Your optics sad and his cervos don’t move. His optics narrow still. “Now my partner isnt sad…You always have a smile when you’re with me and….by my side.”

He places another kiss on your shoulder and the side of your neck a few times. “Now be good for me and open that chest plate of yours..”

You held in your tears. How did things move so fast for you? Slowly your chest plate opened showing your spark. He’d then open his. His cervo once on your thigh moving to your upper back. gently pressing your chest against his. You then felt a rush. Your spark connecting with his.

He’d then press his dermas against yours. The kiss was hungry and yeet still full of….love?…. You didn’t return the kiss. But he didn’t seem to care.

The kiss continued. All you can hear is the soft music and the kisses he exchanged against your dermas. Keeping your frame against his as he continued. The spark bond was completed and he leaned back with a sigh. Glad to finally have what he’s been craving for so long.

He’d then resume, kissing your neck and chest. Ignoring the jewelry as his cervos explore your frame. Your own on his shoulders. Trying to not let out a few soft moans as he assaults your frame.

He’d then pause looking at you with his optics full of lust.

“Such a good Conjunx. You're going to make everyone…and Me very, very…Happy.”

This one I was pretty excited to write about and I swear all I can hear his voice in my head when write him lmao. The writer I wasn’t fully sure what to do with at first ‘cause I don’t know if models even exist in Cybertron. But hey I hope you all enjoy non the less and hope you all have a good rest of your day.

As always, a repost is appreciated.

#transformers one #transformers one x reader #x reader #transformers #transformers x reader #sentinel x reader #sentinel prime #tf one sentinel prime

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dullgecko · 2 days ago

Note

i have the image of fabian using his battle sheet as a temporary burial shroud for riz

Part 1 - Part 2

Riz had been sitting under the tree near his dads desk for hours, his new wings hiding him from view as he tried very hard not to freak out. Pok could see that he wasn’t doing great and had kept the supply of hot drinks coming, more than a dozen empty paper cups that had once contained (admittedly fantastic) coffee sitting around his feet. He didn’t even feel jittery or ill from drinking that much that fast it was weird, but apparently he was a ‘risen soul’ now and he was in heaven so maybe coffee didn’t have any negative effects for him anymore.

Once it hit the six hour mark he had to admit that okay, maybe he did have to accept that he wasn’t getting resurrected any time soon but it was still weird. Kristen had at least two diamonds on her the last time he counted, and Fig had a spare too so they should have brought him back immediately… unless they were also dead? Fuck... maybe he’d accidentally triggered that trap and wiped out his whole team.

Riz popped his head out over the edge of his wings, scrambling to his feet and nearly overbalancing because he still wasn’t used to the extra weight as he lunged forwards to grab his dad by the arms.

“Are my party also dead!?”

“I…. don’t believe so?” Pok had nearly spilled his own drink in surprise when Riz shot up out of his depressed curl, not expecting him to be moving at all yet so soon after his death. Usually people would be stuck in a depression spiral until at least their funeral but Riz never had been one to sit still for very long if he could help it.

“But you’re not sure? Is there a way I can check? They were with me so they should have brought me back straight away.” Riz’s eyes were wide with panic and he’d subconsciously pulled back his lips to show off his teeth, Pok having to place a gentle hand on his head and give him a gentle scratch behind the ear to make him calm down slightly.

“Yeah, sure kid. I’ll give you tour of the records room and show you how to look that stuff up. You sure you’re up for it?”

“No, but I need to know or it will drive me crazy.”

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

Gorgug and Fabian had been nearly inconsolable when they were woken from their rest to find one of their party members dead. The half elf going so far as to steal Riz’s dead body out of Kristens arms and refuse to let him go until it was pointed out that they should probably find a way to preserve him until they found a way to bring him back.

Adaine had cooled his body down until near freezing before Fabian carefully wrapped the goblin in his battle sheet, not liking that Riz was going to be cold and insisting that he needed the blanket (as irrational as that was given they needed to keep him cold) as they placed him inside his own briefcase. He’d stay chilled in there for longer but it wouldn’t stop him from warming back up entirely, they’d need to periodically cool him down again until they could resurrect him in order to stop decay.

First order of business was getting the hell out of the temple. Fig had tried dimension dooring them to The Bottomless Pit but something in the building was blocking them from leaving that way so they had to take the long way out. Thankfully it was easier leaving then entering since they’d cleared most of the traps on the way in already but it still burned a good ten hours of time before they finally made it to the surface.

Now all they had to do was find a diamond that was worth enough to use as the spell component to bring their friend back, unfortunately that was going to be the hard part of this quest… and they’d probably need multiple just in case the spell failed again. Kristen still had no idea why Riz was apparently ‘unavailable’ for resurrection and Cassandra didn’t have any answers for her either, especially since all she knew was that the goblins soul had gone to Bytopia rather than her own afterlife.

#fantasy high #riz gukgak #fabian seacaster #fig faeth #gorgug thistlespring #adaine abernant #kristen applebees #bad kids

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kaylatoonz · 17 hours ago

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Ok I'm not sure if I’ll ever pick up the comic for this AU again with me slowly losing motivation to draw scu/sonic content (the trailers aren’t helping 😑).

So I’m going to give the gist of the story of this AU.

(Edit: This came out longer then I intended 😅).

Art for the AU

Metal/Metal Sonic character sheet

Amy character sheet

Bonus post one and two

context:

In this AU metal sonic or metal (for now) was not created by dr eggman he was created by a rival tribe to the echidnas, a hedgehog tribe. Metal was designed to hold and wield the chaos emeralds and then master emeralds in hopes of overthrowing the echidna tribe's war hungry reign. Unfortunately the project was proven to be a failure and later unnecessary when the owl guardians got involved. With no purpose for the robot and fears that it could be dangerous if it were to fall into the wrong hands, metal's creator sealed him away within a temple. Sentient or not, Metal’s creator had his mind fully set on never letting his tribe or anyone see his work. To keep the world safe and to make sure his failure would never see the light of the day again.

And it would have stayed that way if it weren’t for one fateful winter.

During one particularly brutal winter a pink hedgehog takes shelter within an abandoned temple. Due to the temple ruins not providing enough warmth and her curiosity of the uncharted ruins, she ventures deeper. In the Midst her exploration of the sacred ruins the pink hedgehog finds many intriguing artifacts and trinkets. One peculiar trinket caught her eyes were two golden rings. These rings weren’t like any ordinary warp rings to the hedgehog’s disappointment. The rings were more like bracelets being large in size. It made it so very tempting to try them on just for a moment. Surely it wouldn’t hurt. She hesitantly but eagerly place the rings on her wrist to admire for a moment. but when she decided she had her fill she moved to remove the bracelets only to find she couldn’t. Like any sane and rational being who was dealt with this situation she panicked. Unbeknownst to her panic awoke belated chao power sending pink sparks and bolts of energy from her quills. And that power awakened something that resided within the space the pink hedgehog was currently inhabiting. A loud rusty creaking sound jolted the hedgehog from her panic, arising a new fear that she wasn’t alone. A pair of Neon blue eyes illuminating the space did nothing to ease her fears, edging her to take cover from the being view. She tried to wait the creature out in hopes it would leave but the rattling of chains and continuous unpleasant creaking noise dashed those hopes. the hedgehog start devising a way to escape undetected until her ears picked up something. A sadly familiar sound. The rattling of chains told her that the creature was securely contained within the opposite side of the room. Normally this would bring relief but it was the sound that accompanied the chains that made her heart ache. A whirring sound that almost sounded like whining as the creature fought against the chains. It wasn’t a monstrous beast fighting to free itself to hunt her down, no it was trapped and it was afraid.

Coming to that conclusion she decides she'll try to get a better look of the creature and maybe help them. Upon closer expectation the creature was a robot and it was in fact afraid. Now the robot was even more afraid, learning it wasn’t alone backing itself into the wall it was chained to. Taking note of this the hedgehog approaches the robot as slowly and non threateningly as possible. with caution and care Amy managed to get close enough to the robot to free them from their shackles or at least she tried. It turns out the shackles were a lot harder to remove then she anticipated. She would need to find a key if there were one.

Sometime later the hedgehog had become increasingly frustrated upon realization that there were in fact no keys for the shackles. if there was one they were long gone with whatever jerk who decided to lock up the poor thing. The poor thing in question fears had long disappeared now replaced with amusement of the pink hedgehog's failed attempts to free them. Despite the seemingly hopeless situation they were in, they couldn’t help but feel content that they weren’t alone. At least for now. Unfortunately for them those feelings were short lived as the pink hedgehog growing frustration had triggered her powers which in turn caused both inhabitants to panic. The chao energy surges into the ring bracelet activating some form of ancient power. The sudden unknown power emerging from the relics did nothing to decrease their increasing panic. Just when strange power reached its peak it summoned something strange within its light then the power surge ceased. As the pink hedgehog’s eyes adjusted from the blinding light she locked on to a large hammer that she was pretty sure wasn’t there before. And judging from the confusion in the robot eyes? He didn’t have any prior knowledge of the new tool. turning her attention back to the strange new object she couldn’t help, but feel that it was calling to her. then an idea came to mind. The idea in question didn’t give the hedgehog much comfort, not knowing what the new weapon could affect her upon contact. Having no other option she hesitantly took hold of the hammer’s handle. When no negative effect followed she adjusted her hold into a tight one and lifted it. It was heavier than she expected but she managed. She then returned her focus back to the now very nervous robot who must have caught on her plan. The hedgehog could only offer a few words of encouragement and promise to be as careful as she could. The robot's confidence still waned But seeing that there were no other options, they straightened himself as if to say “bring it on”. Taking his gesture as saying he was ready, she took two confidence swings at the Shackles,Taking care to put enough force to shatter his restraints, and not his wrists. with that the robot was free. After a brief celebration the Hedgehog decided it was about time she properly introduced herself to her possible new friend. She introduced herself as Amy rose while also quickly apologizing for the rough first impression. Amy then asked for the robot name and if he would like to be her friend. The robot nodded eagerly but didn’t seem to feel inclined to answer The first question. Or maybe he couldn’t. The robot hadn’t spoken a word since they both met. This didn’t bother Amy in the slightest If he didn’t wanna talk, she would give him all the time he needed. If he couldn’t talk, then they would just have to find a better way to communicate. Figuring out if he had a name would have to be to the start. She rephrased her first question asking if he had a name. maybe she could guess it through yes or no questions maybe charades. The robot looked down solemnly and shook his head. With that response, Amy's anger towards the robot's creator deepened but she buried those feelings for now. There were more important things right now, like finding a perfect name for her new friend. Plus she didn’t wanna make him think her anger was directed towards him. So she took a breath and suggested they make a game out of it. Amy would suggest some names and see which the robot liked best. At first, she suggested some silly ones just to get a reaction which succeeded in pulling him out of his gloomy mood. Later along the line, she got a bit more serious with the names, but none seem to fit. After some time though , they finally settled for Metal. It was simple, but it felt right.

At this moment their loneliness came to an end and their bright yet tragic story of friendship began.

As the seasons passed Amy and Metal’s bond grew stronger with each trial they faced surviving together alone. They share everything, their struggles, strengths, weaknesses and even their hopes and dreams. Amy dreamed of one day exploring other worlds, going on adventures and meeting new people. While Metal was content with things staying just the way they were, by Amy’s side. But making Amy happy meant the world to him. If it meant a little change to their status quo Metal would do anything to make Amy‘s dream come to fruition. The only problem lied in the lack of rings. During his time spent with Miss Rose, he came to learn that rings were a form of currency and a way they travel between worlds. And Rose didn’t have much access to them. There weren’t many ways to make rings while staying in hiding so Amy mostly scraped by throughout her life.

This way of life for his friend never sat well with Metal. how was she ever to achieve her goal if she never took what she deserved. If Amy couldn’t reach her goal Metal decided he would do whatever it takes to help Amy get what she wanted. or at the moment what she needed ,what she needed was rings, and he knew just where to get them. The arena.

In the past Amy had mentioned that some chose (or were forced) to partake in battles against opponents to win rings. Sure, Amy had warned him of the dangers and their unsavory practices but Metal would be careful. Besides, he was built sturdy and he was confident the fighters in the arena were inferior to his power. In way he was right, he was victorious in battle and got the rings he need but at a cost. He had greatly underestimated his opponents leaving him a bit worse for wear. His condition was not preferable but he got what he needed and Amy joy would be worth it. Unfortunately what Metal got was in fact the opposite. Amy flipped out when metal return not even paying mine to the pouch of ring he held. Which led to an argument between friends. Amy was furious, how could Metal do something so stupid and reckless. With how damaged metal was, Amy doubted she could repair him. The chance of finding someone who could was just as slim as finding some who wouldn't try to take him apart. Metal on the other hand had grown frustrated that she hadn’t acknowledged his prize and only greeted him with rage. When Amy finally took notice of the pouch of rings she softened and her fury subsided. She was touched that he went this far to do someone special for her but reaffirmed that what he did was extremely stupid and dangerous. If he had died in that arena she would have never known. She tells him that she would rather have him then some dumb rings and make him promise not to do anything like that again. Metal nodded, feeling warm at his friend’s care and concern for him. He knew how much he needed her but he never considered how much she needed him or cared for him. Before they moved on from the topic, Amy made it clear to him that they’re not using the rings for her. They would be using the rings to find someone they could trust to repair him. Metal shakingly nods seeing how stern Amy was with this demand.

This is where team sonic comes in.

After some trial and error they eventually find themselves on earth. Metal’s condition grew increasingly dire with each world they traversed. With each venture Amy grew more determined to save her friend, despite the hopelessness. Fortunately, her strong resolve paid off when she ran into one of the Wachowski bros, Sonic. unfortunately upon Sonic's first encounter with Metal mistook him for a banged up badnik looking for trouble. So he attacked Metal which led to a misunderstanding when Amy came to defend her friend. She made it clear that she wouldn’t let Sonic do any further harm to her friend. If he dared to try again he would have to go through her and her hammer. At that moment Amy brought some clarity to the situation, that Metal wasn’t a threat. Upon realizing this sonic was quick to apologize. He even offered his help, vouching for his little brother Tails who was the best man for the job to repair metal’s damage (and the one’s he caused). Not having any other options, Amy took on his offer despite Metal’s grievances. As promised, Tails was able to repair metal to the best of his ability (though there would be some kinks to work out, Metal was an ancient piece of work). When the looming threat of the possibility of losing her friend and sonic proving to be trustworthy she decided to properly introduce themselves. Sonic in turn reintroduced himself and his brother’s tails the fox and knuckles the echidna. Sonic also proudly claimed they were the trusted protectors of Green Hills and earth. This piqued her interest and excitement, past transgressions ALMOST forgotten. She was meeting heroes who probably had all kinds of cool and exciting adventures. She wanted to know everything and Sonic was happy to oblige. Metal was not happy he did not like nor trust these.. “heroes” And wanted nothing to do with them. He hoped Amy would follow suit but she was too enamored by the blue idiot’s stories.

As Amy spent more and more time with team Sonic (mostly sonic) she grew to be closer to the gang. This closest in turn made Metal feel more and more out of place. He started to notice some things that he never felt when it was just him and Amy. he noticed how his fingers could never quite intertwine with Amy’s as perfectly as they did with Sonic’s. He noticed that he could never enjoy a meal with Amy like Sonic. And that he could never make Amy feel special in the same way Sonic did. Metal slowly grew to envy and resent Sonic for simply existing. These unchecked emotions eventually lead to an outburst and misunderstanding between Sonic and Metal. The incident drove a wedge in Amy and metal’s friendship(at least in metal’s eyes). Leading to Metal wander off alone to sulk. He was vulnerable. Vulnerable enough for a certain doctor robotnik to take advantage of him. Offering twisted promises that he could refine Metal, making him no longer inferior to Sonic. If this could make him do all the things Sonic could do and more he would do whatever it took to get Amy to smile for him. And only him.

#sonic movie 3 #movie amy rose #amy rose #sonic the hedgehog #sonamy #knuckles the echidna #miles tails prower #movie sonamy #metal sonic #metamy #sorry if there’s errors

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