#if you split them up i will blow up this entire building

[pyotrkochetkov]

Martin Nečas and Andrei Svechnikov meet for the first time

[please-destroy]

It Only Takes A Moment

Natasha Romanoff x Shy!Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

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“I feel like shit.” 

Natasha commented out of nowhere from the sofa across the room. 

You startled at her unexpected statement. Your cereal-filled spoon froze halfway to your mouth. You’d never had a one-on-one conversation with Natasha since you joined the Avengers six months ago.

Then, you noticed Clint shuffling bleary eyed towards the fridge. Your shoulders relaxed.

He yawned, rubbing his face as he regarded Natasha assessingly. You were perched at the breakfast bar, unobtrusive as usual.

Natasha was on the opposite side of the large space, feet curled beneath her on the tiny sofa. 

A purpling bruise on her cheek and a split lip were the painful remnants of her last mission. She looked pale too, tired in an almost chronic way, despite the empty coffee mug next to her.

“You look like shit, too.” Clint decided at last with a lazy grin. 

Natasha smirked back, obviously satisfied with his teasing response. You remembered your cereal and took another spoonful. Curiosity always burned inside you when you watched the two of them interact. You’d never had a mission with either of them before. You didn’t understand the lightness of their back and forth.

As you chewed on your breakfast, eyes roaming over Natasha’s injured face, you felt concern build inside you.

Clint gave you a friendly nod as he stacked a pile of snacks in his arms and left the room.

A steady silence returned in his wake. You were unbearably shy around Natasha as a rule. Something about her calm confidence and unreadable expression made you feel nervous. 

You knew the other Avengers just thought you were quiet.

Natasha was staring absentmindedly out the large window, her coffee long since finished. You followed her gaze outside, glancing up at the pale yellow sun that was still new in the sky.

You watched Natasha’s mouth twist into a subtle grimace of pain as she lifted her hands to try and tie her hair back in a ponytail.

You felt certain as you watched her that her injuries were more than just a bruised cheek. The worry bubbled inside you.

Eventually, Natasha gave up, letting her hair fall back down around her shoulders in a loose curtain. She looked entirely unlike herself. Until today you’d never seen her hair out of a braid.

You slipped off your bar stool and cringed at the way it squeaked on the tiled floor. You hesitated as you put your dishes in the dishwasher. Every day usually followed the same pattern. You knew Natasha was paying no attention to you, expecting you to leave the kitchen and go back to your room. 

When you turned instead to the coffee machine, you felt Natasha’s eyes flicker back to you. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up.

.

When you walked over to her, fresh cup of coffee in hand, it was the first time you’d ever surprised Natasha. 

You handed her the mug with a wordless smile.

Natasha’s answering smile was soft but her eyes held a subtle confusion. 

‘Thank you.’ She breathed, blowing automatically on the hot liquid. 

Nerves fluttered inside you. You forced yourself to speak.

‘Are you really okay?’ You asked, as your worry escaped you.

For a brief moment, shock rendered Natasha silent. Her head tilted to the side as she stared at you.

You didn’t know where your bravery was coming from. A burning embarrassment began to build inside you.

Natasha’s expression softened suddenly. She hesitated and then started to speak. 

‘I’m okay. Just had one of those missions.’

You nodded in response, your eyes lingering automatically on the painful looking bruise. From the things you’d overheard about the mission, you knew she was underplaying it. You bit your lip. Natasha watched you silently. 

‘Can I help with your hair?’ You asked at last, in another worried burst that you couldn’t seem to control.

A slight flush caught Natasha’s cheeks. Something like shame flickered in her eyes, gone a moment later.

Your breath caught. She was more human than you’d realised. More beautiful too. 

‘Thank you.’ Natasha replied quietly. ‘I think I’ve hurt my shoulder.’

You nodded again, moving to stand behind the tiny sofa. You lifted her hair tie from the side table and slid it over your wrist. 

You felt Natasha’s body freeze at your first hesitant touch. 

You knew she was expecting you to tie her hair back in a quick ponytail. Instead, hardly daring to breathe, you tried something different. 

Natasha’s breath hitched when she realised what you were attempting. 

You started carefully, twisting pieces of hair together.

‘You don’t have to braid it.’ Natasha whispered after a moment, her quiet voice burning with a sudden rawness. You found yourself wishing that you could see her face. 

‘You like it braided.’ You answered simply. 

Natasha held herself impossibly still as you tried your best to replicate her usual braid. You noticed the light goosebumps raised on her skin.

Eventually, you tied the last piece, your fingers lightly brushing against her neck. 

You moved back around the sofa to face her. 

You weren’t sure if it was the flushed cheeks or your imperfect braid that made Natasha look so young. Her gaze searched yours, her eyes vulnerable.

‘It’s not very good.’ You apologised quietly. 

Natasha shook her head.

‘It’s good.’ She countered simply. There was a raw, raised scar on the back of her hand. You wondered how you’d never noticed before.

Natasha nodded to the space next to her on the sofa. She smiled suddenly, a flash of her usual cool confidence.

‘Do you want to watch some TV?’

You nodded, feeling a warm rush at the familiarity of her tone. A barrier had fallen between you. 

As you settled on the sofa, Natasha switched on the television. The daytime show was familiar, often left playing in the background of the room. 

Natasha touched the end of her braid as she watched. Her gaze stayed on the show, a picture of relaxed attention. 

You couldn’t say the same for yourself. Her light joke to Clint played in your head. The bruises, the scars, the pained movements. 

 After a few minutes, another question fell from your lips. 

‘Was it scary?’ You asked suddenly.

You watched Natasha freeze momentarily, a difficult emotion filling her eyes. You watched her blink the feeling away. She didn’t reply. 

You turned your gaze back to the television, stomach twisting for what she didn’t share. 

Eventually, you settled back against the sofa cushions, finally beginning to relax in her presence. Natasha sipped the last of her coffee.

Your usual shared silence returned.

You hoped you hadn’t ruined everything with one question.

The show ended and a commercial break began.

‘It was.’ Natasha murmured unexpectedly. Your head turned towards her.

‘It was scary.’ She whispered into the air.

This was not Natasha. Not the person everyone else saw. This was someone else. You saw her entirely for the first time.

Unspoken sympathy filled your answering gaze. 

You took her scarred hand in yours and rested it on your lap.

[teaboot]

How do Canadian schools teach about indigenous Canadian history and culture? -a curious USAmerican

In my experience we learned about colonization at the same time as we learned about the formation of Canada. At first it was "European settlers came and pushed out the indigenous population", then in the higher grades we learned more about the how and the why.

For example, how carts full of men with rifles would ride around shooting Buffalo, then leaving the meat on the ground to rot, because "a dead Buffalo is a dead indian", which was so fanatical it almost wiped out wild Buffalo entirely

Also how Canadian settlers were lured in with beautiful hand-painted advertisements for cheap, beautiful, fertile land that was unpopulated and perfect, if only you'd sail over with your entire family and a pocket full of seeds- only to be met with scared, confused, and angry lawful inhabitants already run out of ten other places, and frigid winters, and rocky, forested, undeveloped dirt.

also, smallpox blankets, where "gifts" of blankets infected with smallpox were intentionally given out

And treaty violations- Either ignoring written agreements entirely, or buying them out at insanely low prices and lying about the value, or trading for farming equipment that they couldn't use because they weren't farmers.

Then in the first world war, where they told indigenous peoples here that they'd be granted Canadian citizenship if they enlisted

To Residential schools, which was straight up stealing kids for slavery, indoctrination, and medical experiments

But we also covered the building of the Canadian Railway in which Chinese immigrants were lowered into ravines with dynamite to blow out paths through the mountain for pennies on the dollar

And the Alberta Sterilization Act, where it was lawful and routine procedure to sterilize women of colour and neurodivergent people without their awareness or consent after giving birth or undergoing unrelated surgeries

But I'm rambling.

We kind of learned Aboriginal history at the same time as everything else? Like. This is when Canada was made, and this is how it was done. Now we'll read a book about someone who lived through it, and we'll write a book report. And now a documentary, and now a paper about the documentary. Onto the next unit.

And starting I think in grade 10 our English track was split between English and Aboriginals English, where you could choose to do the standard curriculum or do the same basic knowledge stuff with a focus on Aboriginal perspectives and literature. (I did that one, we read Three Day's Road and Diary Of A Part-Time Indian, and a few other titles I don't remember.)

There was also a lunch room for the Aboriginal Culture Studies where Aboriginal kids could hang out at lunch time if they wanted, full of art and projects and stuff. They'd play music or videos sometimes, that was cool

And one elective I took (not mandatory cirriculum) was a Kwakiutl course for basic Kwakwakaʼwakw language. Greetings, counting to a hundred, learning the modified alphabet, animals, etc. Still comes in handy sometimes at large gatherings cause they usually start with a land recognition thanking whoever's land we're on, with a few thanks and welcomes in their language.

And like- when I was in the US it was so weird, cause here we have Totem poles and longhouses and murals all over and yall... don't? Like there is a very distinct lack of Aboriginal art in your public spaces, at least in the areas I've been

My ex-stepfather, who was American, brought his son out once, and he was so excited to "see real indians" and was legitimately shocked to learn that there weren't many teepees to be found on the northwest coast, and was even *more* shocked when we told him that you have Aboriginal people back home too, bud. Your Aboriginal people are also named "Mike" snd "Vicky" and work as assistant manager at best buy.

If you'd ask me, I'd say that the primary difference is that USAmerica (from what I've seen, and ALSO in entirely too much of Canada) treats our European and Aboriginal conflicts as history, something that's tragic but over, like the extinction of the mammoths, instead of like. An ongoing thing involving people who are alive and numerous and right fucking here

But at the end of the day, I'm white, and there are plenty of actual Aboriginal people who are speaking out and saying much more meaningful things than I can

So I'm just gonna pass on a quote from my Stepmum, who's Cree, that's stuck with me since she said it:

"You see how they treat Mexicans in America? That's how they treat us here. Indians are the Mexicans of Canada."

[fluffypotatey]

okay so:

the year is 2021. the month is june. the new season of hermitcraft, season 8, has just started, and everything is great! the hermits are all messing around, having fun, building insane things within the first week of the server being active, and generally having a good time. everyone's collected themselves into little factions, pranking each other, and it's all the fun, lighthearted, mostly-vanilla content hermitcraft is known for.

and then the split between minecraft versions 1.18 and 1.19 is announced. the delay of new terrain, and especially of new mobs like the warden, considerably disrupt several of the hermits' plans. but it's fine, they'll figure something out, they're professionals, and it mostly goes unnoticed.

about two weeks later, on november 9th, grian turns to mumbo jumbo in one of his episodes, and asks the famous question that would seal hermitcraft season 8's fate:

"mumbo, is the moon... big?"

suddenly, the fans panic. they search back through videos and streams, and realize that the moon had been abnormally large and stuck in a full-moon phase since october 30th. the Moon Big event has begun.

this is where the roleplay really starts. once the moon's size has been brought up, the hermits start a weird combination of scrambling to figure out why the moon's growing, and how to stop it- but also of ignoring it, hoping it won't be a problem, hoping someone else will deal with it. the moon keeps getting bigger, more hermits start realizing it's going on, and a creeping sense of dread starts to grow. but it's fine. it's fine, right? they do little plotlines like this all the time. they'll figure something out, the moon will go back to normal, and we'll laugh about it when this is all over. it's fine.

and then, blocks start flying away. just floating up out of the ground, and falling right back down! like for a moment, a square meter chunk of dirt has decided it's a ballerina and leaped out of the ground! but it's fine, right? the blocks are coming back. no lasting harm is done. they're going to fix it all... right?

the moon gets bigger. it's growing every day- local hermit weirdguy joe hills measures it every stream. the blocks start flying higher. gravity starts getting... weird, with players getting the slow falling effect at random, and being lifted off of the earth themselves. the players form cults and rituals and whatnot to try and appease the moon, convince it to leave them alone, making plans to escape. nothing works. things keep getting worse, and the moon keeps getting bigger. but it'll be fine. these storylines never leave lasting harm, or at least they never have before. they'll be fine.

and then the blocks stop coming back, just floating into the sky forever. the players have the slow falling effect more than they don't now. the moon is now so big it's visible even during the day, and fills the entire sky at night. they start planning their escapes in earnest, and say their goodbyes. some hermits jump into a void hole in the overworld (it was the centerpiece of their village). some flee to the End, some to the nether, some just fly with elytras and hope they can get far enough away in time. one brave hermit, tango, flies himself to the moon in a futile attempt to blow the whole thing up before it can crash.

but in the end, the moon crashes into the server, and everything they'd built was destroyed. and the whole time, there'd been nothing any of them could've done. season eight was over, a full six months before anyone had expected it to end, and season nine wouldn't start until about three months later. and im still not okay about it.

(here's a cool animatic of the moon's crash! honestly i dont think you need too much hermitcraft knowledge to get the gist)

(also the moon crash happened on the day before my birthday lmao.)

….

holy shit

[triptuckers]

discoveries - remy lebeau

Request: yes! "Your writing for gambit is so good omg 😭❤️ single handedly feeding me rn!! I was wondering if you would write Gambit with a S/O that has one huge tattoo? Lol I got a sea serpent tattoo last year that crawls up from my arm and onto my chest and it’s my absolute pride and joy!! I’m so curious what Remy’s reaction would be to that 👁️👁️" Pairing: remy lebeau x x-men!reader (reader has the ability to manipulate plants and tree roots and use them as shields/weapons) Summary: when you get hurt during a mission and remy takes care of you, he finds out about your tattoo Warnings: mentions of fighting, violence, injuries (reader gets injured), blood, dizziness, tattoo's, angst Word count: 1.6K A/N: anon getting this request made me realise yes I do need a new tattoo (I'm literally broke and unemployed). enjoy!

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

being part of the x-men meant you always had to be ready. even if you were spending a cozy afternoon with remy in one of the gardens of the mansion. apparently the newest set of power hungry villains didn't care if you had the day off.

it's how you find yourself - after complaining about it a great deal - strapped in on the jet less than twenty minutes after you got all but hauled inside the mansion by beast.

remy is sitting next to you, long legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankle, hands tucked behind his head.

'don't fret, chéri, we'll be in and out in no time.' says remy.

even though you had been dating for a short while now, it still made you blush when remy called you nicknames. and he knew it. he's smirking at you now, noticing your reddened cheeks.

'that's what you said last time, and we were there for an entire day cleaning up messes.' you say.

remy merely shrugs. 'I've got a good feeling about this one.'

'alright you lovebirds, can we focus? I'm taking her down.' says scott from the front of the jet.

once you all get out of the jet to assess the situation, you can feel remy's presence next to you.

'bet I can take out more than you, chéri.' he whispers in your ear.

'you're on.' you say.

you and remy are instructed by scott to take care of the villains on the ground while the others get the people trapped in the surrounding buildings to safety.

as the team splits up, you and remy run towards a small group of people who randomly shooting around, creating panic and chaos.

at first, you thought they were just low level criminals, but then you notice the kinds of guns they carry.

'remy!' you yell.

you're quick to manipulate the soil, making tree roots shoot up from the ground that knock remy out of the way but gently lower him to the ground behind a few upturned cars.

'that's sentinel tech.' you say once you catch up with him.

'merde.' he says, shaking his head. 'how do they always get their hands on that? ready to take them out?'

'let's go.' you say, flexing your fingers and making the soil beneath your feet rumble slightly.

remy winks at you before taking off.

the two of you work together to get take out the group currently focusing all of their fire on you. as long as the others got all the people in the buildings to safety, they could point their guns at you all they like.

you and remy move quickly through and around the group with practised ease. while you're focusing on the fight, you can hear remy make witty remarks.

'hey, chéri!' you hear him call.

as you crush a guy's windpipe by wrapping roots around his neck, you quickly shoot him a glance.

'I'm up to seven!' he says, holding up one of his cards, which is a seven of hearts.

'get your head out of the counting, remy!' you say, dodging a blow from your next attacker.

'you got less than gambit?' you hear him say somewhere in the distance.

'I got nine!' you shout.

you hear him curse, then you hear two short explosions before remy appears in your line of sight with a smirk on his face, holding up a card with the number ten on it.

'showoff.' you say, but you smile.

remy winks at you before taking off after a few men who had the sense to run away.

as you follow him, you fail to notice one guy wasn't entirely knocked out. you're too late to notice him. he quickly gets close to you and slashes a knife through your side.

you yell out in pain as your knees threaten to give up on you. you quickly turn around to throw a sharp wooden dagger at him, but your aim is off.

from the corner of you eye, you see a flash of purple and moments later a sharp card hits your attacker square in the forehead, making him crumble to the ground.

you distantly hear someone yell your name as you sway on your feet, a wave of dizziness taking over you. you blindly reach out for something to steady you when your hands find something warm and solid.

remy has caught you in his arms. he's worriedly looking down at you, then notices your side.

'oh, merde...' he says, gently prodding your side.

you suck in a sharp breath at the wave of pain spreading from your ribs. as a reflex, you tighten your hold on remy's arms.

'j'excuse, chéri, hold on, gambit's gonna take care of you.' he says.

before he can say anything else, a shot narrowly misses him. remy quickly throws a handful of cards with his free hand that isn't holding you up.

'cyclops!' he yells. 'I need backup! we got one man down!'

you can hear remy's voice both above you and in your earpiece. you hear scott's answer as remy reaches down to pick you up.

as another sharp burst of pain shoots through your body, you glance down. one of your sides is soaked in blood. the knife had ripped a large gash through your uniform.

you frown at it, you loved your uniform. and now it's ruined. you look up to remy, who is holding you into his arms as he runs toward the jet. he's talking to you, but it's like you can't understand him. you close your eyes to fight off the dizziness, but remy lightly taps your cheek.

'non, mon amour, you can't close your eyes. keep them open for remy, yeah?' he says.

mon amour. that's a new one.

you weakly nod at him.

you see a flash of red as scott runs past you.

'beast!' says remy. 'we got medical supplies on the yet?'

'yes!' comes beast's instant reply. you reach up to take the earpiece out, the sound is too loud and harsh to bear. you're so comfortable in remy's arms, who is trying the best to keep you steady as he runs to the jet as fast as he can.

you hear remy talk to beast as he enters the jet and gently lowers you onto a chair. he reclines the chair so you're more comfortable.

'I'll be right back, chéri.' he says with a kiss to your forehead.

you can hear him rummage around somewhere behind you as you're fighting to keep your eyes open. the pain in your side had shrunk down to a dull ache, but you could tell blood was still coming out of the wound.

remy comes back, carrying a bag of medical supplies with him.

'this ain't gonna be pretty.' he says as he moves closer to you.

'just get it over with.' you say.

'you just keep talking to me, yeah?'

'sure.'

'bien. here we go.'

remy reaches into the bag and gets out a pair of fabric scissors. he hesitates briefly. the two of you hadn't been dating for very long. not much had happened besides the occasional make out session. you'd seen remy without a shirt when you would play basketball with the team, but remy had never seen you without a shirt. suddenly it all felt too quickly.

'it's okay, love.' you say, bringing him out of his hesitation. 'I trust you.'

he nods at you before carefully cutting your uniform off of you. when he has cut away the biggest part of the top half of your uniform, his eyes fall to your body.

not the wound, but rather the other side.

a tattooed serpent that slithers from your rib cage over your shoulder and disappears into the sleeve remy hadn't cut off.

instead of checking the wound, remy trails his fingers softly over your tattoo. you watch as his eyes follow the pattern of ink. you would have thought you were shy and nervous to be sitting here shirtless with remy. but you loved your tattoo. the design is beautiful, and it means a lot to you.

'so that's what you've been hiding beneath that suit of yours.' he murmurs.

'you like it?' you say softly. while you loved your tattoo, there had been different kinds of reactions from people who saw it.

'chéri... it's beautiful.' says remy, soothing your worries.

'I almost feel bad for having to cover it up.' says remy, reaching out to get out the medical supplies.

'don't worry, you'll get to look at it plenty after I've healed.' you say.

'really?'

'yeah, of course. if you'd still have me with a giant scar on my side.'

'I'm with you til the end, mon amour. now let's get you fixed up.' says remy, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek. 'in the meantime, tell me the story how you got it, hm? need you to stay awake for me.'

'alright.' you say softly, and you start telling the story of how you got the tattoo as remy works on cleaning the wound and bandaging you up.

when he wraps the binding around your chest, you can tell his hands linger on your tattoo, tracing its outlines.

you close your eyes and lean back as remy secures the bandage. you feel how he lightly taps your forehead, then presses a kiss to the tip of your nose.

'all done, chéri.' he says.

his voice sounds close, and when you open your eyes, you see his face right in front of you.

you smile tiredly at him. 'can I sleep now?'

remy smiles back at you. 'oui, mon amour.'

'stay here?'

'always.'

you feel how remy gently traces your tattoo again as you drift off to sleep.

A/N:thanks for reading! everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. please do not copy, translate, plagiarise or repost my work! some of these are requested by other people and I spend a lot of time and effort on my works <3 much love, marit

[bengiyo]

Hello 👋

All of your favorite horniest sex scenes?

Hello! I've been busy, so this has taken forever to get to!

I don't always need the guys to bounce around on each other and gyrate enthusiastically for it to out as horny. Oftentimes, I find myself more drawn in by the building desire between the characters, and the explicit acknowledgement of release. I like when the sex feels like it's also revealing something to us about the characters. I've highlighted many of these before, but it's fun to revisit.

Ghost Host, Ghost House Episode 4 Couch Scene

I will never get over this scene, and especially the director's cut of it. These guys knew they liked each other almost instantly, and it was so rewarding to see them reach a place where they could express that. Bonus points for discussing the logistics of gay sex.

This show has been on Gaga and YouTube for a while, but it's also now available on Viki!

La Pluie Episode 6 Floor Scene and Episode 7 Bed Scene

I liked this scene so much that I wrote about it. Again, there's a lot of anticipation between these two, and you can tell how far it's built up because Patts has to dial it back down when Saengtai wants to stop. It's especially important to me because Saengtai does blow Patts in the next episode. If you're on iQIYI, there's an extended cut of that at the end of the video lists.

Mood Indigo: The Post-Funeral Scene

These two are so horrible for each other, but damn are their sex scenes compelling. Theirs are the kinds of scenes only possible between two people you know can never work long term. I was so glad that we got back to Haruhiko in Playback, and the first thing he did was blow Rio in a car. If you haven't seen the Novelist, and you're itching for hornier BL, it's right there.

The End of the World With You "You're Soaked"

From the same team as The Novelsit, we got to experience baby's first fuckboy in this incredible show. Again, I love when we get scenes with couples who aren't ready to work, because they're allowed to have raunchier sex. They get to amp the intensity of the physicality because they need to give a reason why someone was so caught up and missed the warning signs. I actually love the car scene later as a more romantic intimacy scene, but we're focusing on horny here.

Jack o' Frost Birthday Sex

A common theme here with the Japanese offerings is that people are allowed to have more interesting sex scenes right before they split. This is true even in Jack o' Frost. We get a really great oner from the leads that precedes their breakup and Ritsu's accident. I think this might be my favorite of this list because the actors have to build the entire scene together since there aren't any cuts.

Gameboys 2 Bed Scene

Cairo and Gav are one of my favorite pandemic couples we got on screen, and I was quite relieved for them when they finally got to have this moment. We also confirmed they switch, and I love that.

Wedding Plan: Namnuea Showing Off His Stamina

No list for me would be complete without including them. I really loved seeing two gay men go at it after clearing out all of their misunderstandings. They had already had sad goodbye sex. It was thrilling to see them having enthusiastic, athletic sex. This also leads directly to one of my favorite emotional payoffs for a closeted character of all time.

Kiseki: Dear to Me Reunion

The second couple stole this show, but damn if I didn't love the way these two played out sex across multiple years between their characters. These two really suffered, and I really love the way Taro Lin and Hsu Kai captured the changes between these two as Bai Zong Yi grew and matured. This really was a solid sex scene.

Love Class 2: Sungmin and Joo Hyuk

I just really wanna thank them for reassuring me that if Korea wanted to, they could deliver.

Sleep With Me Jeans Scene

I am not a lesbian, but I share their beliefs. This scene was so good. I loved that these two, who have different kinds of disabilities, were able to have a very fun sex scene. I really like when it's clear both characters want to be there.

Only Friends: Boston and Top in the Car

Despite my eventual disdain for this show, I was impressed with Neo and Force for giving this incredibly selfish sex scene between their characters. This entire scene is about injured egos, and it's a standout scene from this show. We won't discuss the rest of the show here.

Thanks for the ask!

[grandline-fics]

Hi there! I really like your writings and I wanted to request about strawhat crew reactions to over power reader, (if its too much you can just do the monster trio reaction) even better when they didn't think the reader would be so strong. you can make the scenarios however you like! thank you and stay safe muach ���

DESCRIPTION: You’re so much stronger than they thought

WARNINGS: none

CHARACTERS: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji

WORDS: 1,274

A/N:  Thank you for the request and hopefully you like what I came up with for this. I tried to make each scenario different so hopefully it works.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST

———————

LUFFY

Luffy glared as he raced through the headquarters of their current enemy. He had dropped his guard for a moment and in that time the entire crew had been split up into fights by the different henchmen. While he had every confidence in the strength of the others and knew they would win, he couldn’t help but worry for you. You were newer to the crew but in that time, Luffy couldn’t help but feel more protective and aware of you compared to how he felt of the others. He knew that being a pirate was a dangerous life and in a way that was part of the fun of it all but he just didn’t want to see you hurt. 

It didn’t help his worrying to see that your opponent was the Boss’ right hand man, someone Luffy could sense was just as dangerous as the Boss. He’d done all he could to end his fight as fast as he could but it was hard to stay focussed and not put himself at risk. Luffy stumbled slightly as he ran through the building, feeling one injury in particular throb painfully. After he rescued you he would track down Chopper and get patched up. At least that had been the plan. 

Around him the building began to rumble as the sound of distant impacts drew closer and louder. Luffy slid to a halt just as the wall to his side burst into pieces and a body slammed against the floor in a bloodied heap. Luffy tilted his head to the side and lightly rolled the person over, eyebrows raising in surprise to see the henchman he’d been worried would hurt you lying in front of him. Had Sanji or Zoro finished their fight and helped you? 

No that didn’t seem right. None of the injuries matched his crewmate’s handiwork. This was different but he knew whoever was behind it was strong. Behind him he heard someone approach and he turned to see you slowly climbing from the holes in the wall. You’d been ready to land another blow to your opponent just incase your last attack hadn’t done the trick. You were glad to see that he was defeated but you were surprised to see Luffy there. “Hey, Luffy. You finished your fight too?” You asked with a smile while dusting yourself off from the debris. “Come on, we should find the others and get out of here.” Luffy looked over your slightly bruised and cut body and grinned happily. It seemed you could look after yourself just fine. 

ZORO

“What the hell is this?” Zoro asked as he sheathed his swords and stepped towards where you were sitting in the middle of a destroyed battlefield, your opponents and rubble cast around. You looked up from your spot to smile in greeting to the swordsman before looking around at what you’d done. “You took them all out?” He asked, unable to keep the surprise and slight disappointment from his tone. 

“Well I was going to leave half for you but I got bored of waiting and I could only toy with them for so long.” You told him with a light shrug while trying not to feel too guilty about your actions. You honestly hadn’t intended to do it all on your own. When you and Zoro had teamed up to deal with the enemy on this side of the base you hadn’t expected him to get lost the second you took your eyes off of him. You weren’t too worried about his wandering, knowing he’d get to where he was meant to eventually. Zoro looked at you silently, taking in your relaxed words. 

You hadn’t been on the crew for very long and any previous fights they’d been involved in you hadn���t really stood out to him. Yes you dealt with your opponent but he hadn’t seen you do anything on this scale before and part of him wished he had seen you go all out like this first hand.  For one thing you looked completely unharmed, maybe a scratch or two but nothing ultimately serious or painful. For another he could see by the destruction around you both and the injuries on the unconscious group you were clearly powerful. He couldn’t help but scowl and drop his hands back to his swords, he really wanted to find someone to fight, he’d been looking forward to this. You watched Zoro and lightly bit your lower lip as you fought a smile. 

“Were you hoping to protect me from the enemy?” You teased lightly, deciding to try and distract him from his annoyance at not getting to fight. As expected he tensed and looked at you in disbelief. “That’s so sweet! I promise the next enemy we find you can have them all to yourself and I’ll be your swooning ‘damsel in distress’ okay?” You asked with a grin that grew when he lightly shoved your shoulder. 

“Don’t be an idiot, it’s not like that.” He muttered, looking away from your face as you laughed. “Besides you can’t ‘let me’ have the next enemy. I’ll cut them down before you even know they’re there.” Zoro declared while scratching the back of his neck, now sensing just how dangerous you were going to be both on and off the battlefield. 

“Sounds like a fun challenge, Zoro.” you grinned.

SANJI

Sanji stood in shock as he stared out from the railing of the Sunny. Where a line of Marine ships had once been with the intent on blocking their path and taking them down was now reduced to destroyed hulls, floating rigging and debris as the officers on board clambered to stay afloat or make the attempt to swim for dry land. Every Marine no longer paid them any mind as the Sunny sailed away from them. It had been over in a matter of minutes and you were the one responsible. 

When the ships had first appeared you’d asked Luffy to throw you over and you would take care of things. You’d just joined the crew and dealing with the annoyance of a Marine blockade seemed like the fair thing to do to earn your keep. Sanji and a couple of others were about to protest, about to say that it wasn’t down to just you to deal with them but Luffy being the impulsive Captain that he was believed in you and tossed you through the air without a second thought. His faith in your was quickly proven when you destroyed the ships in your way like it was as easy as swatting an insect. When the last vessel had crumbled, Luffy stretched his arm across to pull you back to them.

While it was a positive to have another strong member on the crew, Sanji hadn’t been prepared to see just how powerful you were. He cleared his mind from the shock and approached with his usual flirtatious smile on his lips. When he’d first met you he’d been taken by how attractive you were and now that he’d seen how physically strong and capable you were, he was already falling harder for you. “That was a wonderful sight! How lucky we are that you’ve joined our crew because if you were to leave us now, I’d be like those ships back there; completely broken.” He grinned at you. 

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at the overly sweet and somewhat cheesy declaration from the cook, knowing that his heart was in the right place. You looked up at Sanji with a bright smile. “Don’t worry I’m not going anywhere any time soon.”

[mechanicalpiper]

Hey so I know your busy doing important things (And hearts out for whatever your doing) but I just had another idea come to mind that maybe you could put in a catalog for the future!

"Villain has just been defeated in a long battle by Hero and has decided to try a bit of seduction to win the day. However, Hero is Touch Starved to hell and back and cries at the slightest nice touch/caress"

Bonus points for some heart clenching fluff

Yours truly!

Cooper

You ever procrastinate so hard you start and finish an entirely different project?

By FAR the sappiest and most hurt/comfort-y I've done and was stupidly fun to write. Enjoy :3

Snippet #8

The sounds of strike after strike rang out through the empty city street.

Hero and Villain were once more locked in a tense brawl- nothing new, of course. It had become second nature to them by now- when you spend almost every other day scrapping with the same person for years, it's not hard to get used to it. Hell, with how familiar the two had gotten with each other's fighting styles by now, it was easy for either of them to just let their mind wander while they brawled if they just weren't feeling too up to it that day.

Hero was certainly having one of those days.

They semi-consciously blocked Villain's strikes and threw blows back, less like they were brawling for the safety of the city and more like they were doing a boring day job. An entirely different focus was on their mind... one that had stuck around for a while now. A thought? A worry? A feeling, or the lack of one? Hero couldn't tell by now.

They quickly ducked out of the way just in time as Villain threw a kick at their head, knocking them out of their train of thought and back into full consciousness.

Yeah, fuck, they were fighting Villain. Almost forgot.

Villain certainly took notice of their sudden attention. "Oh, THERE you are. C'mon, can't you at least focus? It's so much less fun when you zone out like that."

"Whuh-? Pff, fun? I'm here to stop you from committing murder, not for a little playdate." Hero grumbled back at their rival, still not fully back at attention.

"Hm. Certainly not the attitude from our first battle. Losing your touch, maybe?" Villain taunted back.

"You wish."

"I don't think I need to. You seem to be dulling just fine without help."

"Still sharper than you. I was winning without paying attention! You couldn't beat my subconscious, how do you expect to beat the rest of me?" As Hero shot back, a tiny smile began to form on their face. Wow, it's been a while since they've bantered in combat like this... it felt nice to just speak with someone, even if that someone was Villain, of all people.

"PFFFF. Winning? The only reason you're not bleeding out on the concrete right now is because I'm having fun with this. I spared you there, y'know~" Villain taunted, a confident grin on their face.

"Yeah, riiiight. How about you actually do something threatening before making simple empty thr-"

Hero was cut off by a sudden feeling- they brought a forearm up to block a strike from Villain, but instead of the expected punch, they felt a grab.

A... grab?

Hero froze in place for the slightest moment.

It was only a split second, but it felt like ages, as if their brain was desperately trying to to cling onto the brief moment. The slightest sensation.

Villain's touch was soft.

Yet, despite everything, the moment was still over far too quickly. Hero hardly even considered why Villain would go for a grab in the moment- by the time they processed the fact it was an attack, it was far too late.

Villain turned around to throw Hero against the concrete wall of the building behind them.

They let out a yelp of pain as they slammed backwards into the wall. After the touch, the motion of being thrown, the hard hit... Hero was far too disoriented to get back into action, let alone stay balanced. Unable to stand up, they just slid down against the wall with a small groan of pain until they found themself at a sitting position, defeated.

Villain let out a small, cocky giggle, stepping closer to Hero to look down at them.

Hero, while still rather disoriented, looked up to see Villain towering over them. ...Wow.

"Is that 'threatening' enough for you, sweetie~?" Villain taunted once more, looking down at the defeated Hero with cocky confidence. God, they loved the feeling of the weakened Hero looking up at them. Always felt nice to win against them.

Hero was already ignoring the pain.

Their brain latched onto that one word- one Villain didn't so much as emphasize saying, like it was nothing special.

Sweetie??

A pet name. A pet name??? Villain called them a pet name??? Sure, they've heard of it being used for taunting before, and really never thought much of it, but- but something about it felt so, so different. When was the last time they were acknowledged like that? Was there a last time? Why did just being acknowledged feel so good? Fuck, they shouldn't like this, they were beat up and lying against a wall with their arch nemesis towering over them, taunting them, but- but not k-killing them? It shouldn't feel... c-comforting, should it?...

...'Sweetheart'...

Villain just looked down at Hero, their cocky expression switched to mild confusion. They certainly didn't react like they were in much pain... Hero's face wasn't that red before, was it?

"Hm. Losing focus agai-"

Hero shook their head 'no' almost instantly, cutting Villain off in mild surprise. They were definitely paying attention, alright, but...

Villain slightly cocked their head at Hero, thinking for a moment. The pause was only a second or two, though. They were quick to get back to teasing, assuming they were simply overthinking a weird reaction.

"Hmmm~" they muttered, crouching down to get level with their defeated rival, keeping that same smug, satisfied look.

"See? I could've taken you out like that aaany time I wanted~"

Hero looked off to the side, as if trying to hide from the other's gaze- Villain's confidence only grew seeing the embarrassment they wanted out of Hero.

At least, what they saw as embarrassment. While that certainly was an aspect of it... it wasn't why Hero's attention diverted like that. Their thoughts weren't the feelings of humiliation and defeat Villain assumed.

An entirely different focus was on their mind.

A thought?

A worry?

A feeling, or the lack of one?

It could be any of them. It could depend on the circumstance. It could technically fall under every one of them, with the right logic.

Hero didn't know nor care.

All they knew is what it felt like right now.

It's a fear.

A fear of this. This emotion.

The first time in memory they've felt so... acknowledged, so strangely comfy- the only time they could have this feeling was when their nemesis was using it to taunt them. The only thing they were ever really seen or known for is their protection of the city. The Agency was obviously impersonal and corporate, other Heroes saw them as an antisocial business partner, the citizens of course only liked them for the protection, and they had nobody else outside of that despite their years of previous efforts.

The only value others saw in them was the tangible benefit they provided. The only value they saw in themself was just that. They so, so badly wanted this feeling of comfort, but they so, so deeply believed they didn't deserve it.

Believed the only way they could ever be worth loving is when it was a punishment like this.

All Villain saw was Hero looking off to the side. Zoning out again? They mumbled something to themself, leaning down just a little more.

Hero didn't always used to do that. It had them worried, honestly. It only began somewhat recently, but it was absolutely constant.

Villain felt bad. Yeah, their public motive was always money or power or whatever evil plot they had for the week would accomplish, and while those certainty were good benefits, they weren't the reason they did it.

They did it for Hero.

They weren't joking when they said they were messing with them for fun earlier. It started as just a want to fight, but the second they came across Hero, they couldn't keep themself away. At first it was simply their fighting style being fun, as Villain justified it to themself. Then the wit in their banter was more entertaining than others. Then they provided the biggest challenge. Then... well, Villain couldn't deny a sense of warmth when they were around Hero.

They had so much personality, so much energy, but as time passed it felt like they got less so. Villain was almost scared to watch it. Not because it was more fun to fight them, but rather... well, they had to admit to themself they just didn't want to see Hero so thoroughly unhappy. So sapped of life.

Villain took one hand and gently swooped it under Hero's chin, turning their head back to face them and lifting their chin a little. Hero flinched a little, but didn't pull back.

"Hey. Pay attention, sweetie."

Hero's breathing got slightly quicker. Shallower. Starting off subtle, it ramped up.

Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, hOLY SHIT, HOLY SHIT.

The feeling of Villain's hand was the best thing they'd ever felt. In their life. They didn't know anything could be this soft, any temperature could be this comforting and warm, that any grip could be so firm yet gentle, that any gaze could be so powerful yet soft- they were completely hyperventilating, tears welling in their eyes. They didn't want to trust it, but they wanted the comfort too badly to treat this rationally. They'd never felt anything so unbelievably wonderful. They wanted it so, so bad.

Villain couldn't stop themself from gasping. They certainly weren't expecting that reaction, but seeing Hero just break down like that, they were absolutely overcome with the heat of the moment need to just... protect them. Comfort them.

Only a moment later, the two simultaneously fell into an impulsive hug.

Villain squeezed Hero tightly against them as Hero buried their face in Villain's shoulder. Hero completely stopped thinking about their doubts- only one thing mattered right now, and that was Villain. It was so unbelievably comfy, warm, happy, soft, safe... years of built up serotonin was flooding out all at once, and it only got better as Villain brought one hand up from the hug to run it through Hero's hair.

They'd never been this much of an absolute mess. They'd never been this happy in their life.

Villain just continued holding Hero tight.

Minutes passed. Neither wanted the moment to end.

But finally, after what felt like years, Hero's breathing finally began to get deeper again. Villain let out a relived sigh, though didn't quite let go yet, allowing Hero's tears to dry and breathing to fully steady. Villain stayed patient as Hero got calmer and calmer until their desperate squeeze against Villain finally relaxed.

Hero felt the safest they ever had, and Villain couldn't be happier. The idea that they were rivals didn't even cross either of their minds- it just felt so right.

"...How're you feeling?"

Hero answered in a quiet, vulnerable, satisfied whisper, more emotion in their voice than Villain had ever heard.

"...n-needed this."

For the first time in ages, an entirely new focus was on Hero's mind.

A thought?

A worry?

A feeling?

They were certainly leaning towards it being a feeling.

That feeling was love.

[familyvideostevie]

october eighteenth

day eighteen: james potter somehow, you end up in the flat of the guy across the street who walks around naked in front of the window all the time | 18+, mdni, a bit of accidental voyeurism?, some exhibitionism, smut, fem!reader | 4k detailed content warnings: fem!reader, hooking up w a stranger, dirty talk, oral (m receiving), fingering, p in v sex, a little rough but not really

Having a bicycle is convenient and also annoying as fuck. It gets you where you need to go but you don’t really have room for it in in your flat, so you chain it up outside with the other bikes on the block. When the weather is going to be bad you lug it indoors and keep it in the hall so it won’t rust too badly.

And apparantly it’s going to storm tonight, which you remind yourself over and over throughout the day. But even still, you manage to forget about the bike until you hear the rumble of thunder after work. You run down your steps in hastily shoved-on sneakers and no coat, spilling onto the sidewalk and making a beeline for the rack, lock key in hand. The October sky is a dark, menacing color, the sun practically gone, and you hurry to twist open the lock and tug your bike free and —

It won’t budge.

“What the fuck?” you mutter. You tug a few more times but it doesn’t slide out. It looks like there’s a chord wrapped around the body of it and…the bike next to it is chained to it. The idiot who locked up their bike locked yours, too. “Are you fucking serious?” you say to the empty street.

You really should just go inside. But you don’t want to leave it out here and ruin the seat and now you’re pissed. So you wait. You hope whoever owns this stupid bike will come down the lane and you can yell at them and go inside, but the wind just blows and you shiver without your coat and maybe no one is coming.

Thunder booms again and you’re about to give up when the door to the building directly across from yours flies open and out walks —

Oh fuck. It’s your naked neighbor.

Here’s the thing. Your street really isn’t that wide and it’s all walk-up townhomes split into flats. And yours is on the second floor and has a gorgeous window that looks out onto the street and the entire time you’ve lived there, the guy in the second floor flat on the other side of the lane has never gotten curtains. He has an equally large window and he walks around naked all the time.

You’ve seen him many times and you bet the entire neighborhood has, too. He’s gorgeous, tall and lean with glasses constantly perched on his nose even when he’s not wearing anything else. The dark, messy hair on his head is…pretty much the same as what he’s got down below. You don’t mean to look, you really don’t, but the man fucking walks around his living room with no pants on most evenings when you’re watching TV. He’s practically in your direct line of sight.

And now he’s walking towards you. Fully clothed. Not in a hurry, either.

You’re a big girl. You can do this. He probably has no idea who you are. “Oi!” you yell. “Is this yours?”

He picks up the pace when he sees you pointing to the bike. “Yeah?”

“You locked it to mine!”

He looks a bit surprised. “Oh,” he says. “Did I really? Sorry, that’s incredibly dumb of me.” He does sound genuinely apologetic.

“Yeah, it is,” you say. You’re cold and it’s going to start raining any second. You try to maintain your composure as you finally see him up close. He’s got a nice voice, which is annoying, and lovely eyes. He’s so handsome up close you have to swallow a laugh when you realize you’ve already seen his cock. This is absurd.

“Uh, let me free you, then.” He undoes the lock and you tug your bike free just as the first raindrops fall.

You turn around and head back to the door to your building without another glance at naked neighbor. “Thanks, bye!” you call.

But then you get to the door of your building and reach in your pocket and…you don’t have your keys. Well, you have the one to your flat, but not to the front fucking door. You’ve got your phone and maybe you can call your downstairs neighbor? Wait, no, she works night shifts and she’s already left. Are you seriously stuck out here in the rain? The very thing you were avoiding with this whole venture?

“Fuck!” you yell. This whole thing is so fucking stupid.

“You okay?” You whip around to see naked neighbor unmoved from the bike rack. His shoulders show the drops of rain.

“I left my keys inside,” you say. “Automatic lock.” The reasoning betrays the fact that you live alone, no flatmate or boyfriend, or anything.

He winces in sympathy. The rain picks up. Fuck, it’s cold.

“Fuck, indeed,” he says. He looks back at his door and then at you. “Look, I promise I’m not a murderer or anything, I’ve lived here for three years and you can call one of my mates to verify, but do you want to come to mine? Just until the rain stops or you can get ahold of someone to let you in?”

You know he’s not a murderer because you would have have seen evidence of it by now. You’ve seen the mates he says you can call, two tall boys and sometimes some girls, as they come over to play video games or for drinks. You think he plays some kind of sport with them because he showers most nights when he gets home and then walks around naked.

God, now you’re sounding like a serial killer.

“Fuck it,” you mutter. “Sure!” He looks a bit surprised but jerks his head at his door and you both haul your bikes as fast as you can into his building.

The entryway is a narrow hall with a staircase up. “You can leave it down here,” he says, resting his bike against the wall. “Horace is on holiday so we can block the path.”

He leads you up the stairs. “I’m James, by the way,” he offers. Finally, a name to the…body. “Like I said, I’ve lived here for a few years.”

“Me too,” you say. You tell him your name. You try not to stare at his ass too much.

“Nice to meet you,” he says. “Sorry about the bike, honestly. And the rain.”

Your agitation is simmering but you’re cold and wet and your bike is wet anyway after all that and you wish you were in your own flat so you could have dinner and watch it rain but you’re here. And this stupid handsome man — James — looks just as good with clothes on as he does naked and you can’t stop thinking about how he walks around with his dick out all the time and you can never tell him you’ve seen.

“Who chains their bike to someone else’s?” you say once you reach the landing. Both of you are dripping a bit.

James laughs. God, even his laugh is nice. Some people really have it all, don’t they? “I wasn’t paying attention, I guess.”

Idiot.

He unlocks his door and you drip your way through it and see the big window immedietly. Not a curtain or blind in sight.

“Let me get you a towel, neighbor.”

He toes off his shoes so you do the same as he pads down the hall to some room. You look around. Posters, photos, not much decor. He for sure doesn’t have a girlfriend, based on this flat.

James returns with a large towel which you take and sling around yourself, wringing your hair out as best you can. You shiver. He puts the kettle on, a towel draped across his shoulders. “How do you take your tea?”

You tell him as you wander closer to the window. You can see your flat pretty much perfectly. Your couch, your TV, your kitchen. You left the light on. You wonder if you’ve ever walked around naked in your flat. No, but almost certainly in a towel. Does James recognize you? Has he ever looked?

You shiver again, but it has nothing to do with the rain. You wish you could get out of these wet clothes. Wait, what? No, you’re in a stranger’s apartment. Your clothes stay on.

“Blimey,” James mutters. You turn and find him watching you. “Nasty out there.” Oh, he’s watching the rain. Obviously. Why would he be looking at you?

“Yep.”

“You can stay as long as you need, but what’s your plan to get back in?”

You sigh. Standing in the middle of his living room feels awkward so you sit on one of his barstools, instead. “I don’t know,” you admit. “The girl downstairs works nights, so I can’t call her. I could call the building guy but he’s a bit…strange.”

James perks up. He’s got incredibly long lashes. “Is it that old dude? With long hair and scary teeth?” He makes a face and brings his hands to his mouth like pincers.

You laugh. “Yes, that’s him.”

“He does this building, too. Nasty bloke.”

“He is! One time he told me that my sink kept leaking because I used it too much and that I should wash my dishes less.”

James laughs again. He seems like a guy who laughs a lot. “Classic.” He slides you your tea and you wrap your hands around it for warmth.

“Which unit is yours?” he asks lightly.

“Um,” you say. “It’s just across from you. The one with the light on? That’s me.” He looks over your shoulder and his face does something funny before he looks back at you.

“Hm,” he says. “Nice place.” He rubs the back of his neck. You do not look at how his arm flexes. “Just by chance, what’s your wifi network?”

You sit up straighter and tell him. Weird question, but okay.

He winces. “Right, so it’s yours I’ve been using for a month since mine went out.”

“You what?”

James rubs his eyes. “I keep forgetting to call to have it fixed!”

The agitation you felt when you realized your bike was tied to his returns. “You’re the reason why I can’t bloody watch anything! The signal keeps getting interrupted!”

“You should put a password on it,” he mutters.

“And you should put up some fucking curtains instead of flashing the whole neighborhood!” It’s out before you realize what you’ve said. James’s eyes go wide and you snap your mouth shut. Fuck.

He blinks behind his glasses. “I guess I do walk around, uh, unclothed a lot.”

“Yes,” you hiss. You take a too-big sip of your tea and start coughing. Why does your entire body feel hot? You were shivering just a second ago.

James hurries around the counter to pat you on the back. His touch makes your skin tingle and — oh, fuck. Your nipples are hard. Why didn’t you put on a fucking bra before you ran outside? This shirt is thin as fuck and wet.

“Woah,” he says. “You okay?” You catch your breath and grit out a yes. He removes his hand and his eyes travel up and down your body very quickly, though they linger on your chest. You pull the towel tighter around yourself.

“Sorry,” he says.

“For me choking on your tea?”

“No.” He rubs the back of his neck again. It seems like a nervous tell. “For the, uh, flashing.” Your eyes go to his crotch. He’s in grey sweatpants and you can…see the outline of his cock perfectly.

Oh my god, you think. This is really happening to me.

“Um, it’s fine,” you say without thinking. “I don’t mind.”

“Oh?”

“Wait, fuck, no, I —”

James takes a step back into your space. “You…don’t mind? Does that mean you’ve seen something good?” His tone has changed from the flirty banter to something deeper, something a bit more intense.

Your shirt is damp and you’re locked out of your flat for god knows how long and James is hot. So, fuck it. You deserve a little fun.

“I might have,” you say, meeting his gaze and puffing out your chest a little, pulling the towel away. His pupils dilate. “I think I need a closer look to be sure.”

He licks his lips and then walks away from you and sits on the couch, flicking off the overhead lights as he goes. It’s now dark in the flat aside from an occasional flash of lightning. You’d forgotten it was raining entirely.

Even though he started it, he looks surprised when you follow and drop to your knees in front of him.

“Here?” he says. “I was going to snog you first and then take you to my bedroom. Which has curtains.”

You palm the outline of his cock through his sweatpants and he hisses.

“Here is fine,” you say. “We can snog later. I want that closer look, first.”

“Blimey.” He runs a hand through his hair, already looking a bit wrecked. “In front of the window?”

You nod and he lifts his hips and kicks off his sweatpants. He’s got no underwear underneath. “It’s dark in here.” In truth, it kind of turns you on to imagine someone watching you two right now. Your thighs clench as you study him. His cock is thicker than you’d thought, his dark hair a riot at the base. His balls hang heavy, his tip leaking a little, well on his way to being what you’re sure is painfully hard.

You spit in your hand and wrap your palm around him, stroking him root to tip. James groans and tilts his head back. You brush your thumb over the slit at the head and scoot forward on your knees so you’re closer. Thank god he’s got a nice rug.

“What’s the verdict?” he asks.

You look up at him. Lightning flashes and his gaze is steady even as his breath hitches. Without answering, you run your tongue along the bottom of his shaft, tracing his most prominent vein. “Results are promising.”

Then you really go for it. You start with the tip, knowing you won’t be able to take all of him, at least not for very long. You use your tongue to trace the mushroom shape of his head, jerking the rest of him as you work. You pop off with a wet sound and run your tongue up the length of him a few times.

James’s hand winds in your hair but doesn’t tug too hard, doesn’t force you. It’s like he’s anchoring himself. You make sure to pay attention to his balls, too, sucking on them, which makes him moan loudly over the rain.

“Fuck,” he says. “God, just like that.”

Your hand strokes what you can’t fit but you want to try to take all of him at least once. He sees what you’re doing. “Are you sure? Gonna take all of me in that mouth?” You’re sure as hell going to try.

You go as far as you can and feel him hit the back of your throat. You gag a few times, struggling to breathe, before pulling off.

“Can you do that again?” he asks. His thumb presses into the corner of your mouth. “Look so pretty like that.”

This is your favorite part of blowing someone. You might be the one on your knees, doing the work, but it’s James who is at your mercy. So you do it again. Spit runs down the sides of your mouth and you feel tears in your eyes, but the sound he releases makes you feel powerful.

His hips jerk, which takes you by surprise, and you move back with a pop. “Fuck, sorry, sorry,” he says. He wipes the corners of your eyes with his thumbs.

“It’s okay,” you say, voice rough. You could blow him for ages just for the look on his face. You expected him to be a bit more vocal, a bit more aggressive, but maybe he’s holding back.

“This is nice,” he says. He brushes hair from your face. “You sucking my cock, and all.” It’s a filthy thing to say but he sounds genuine as he says it. “And you look gorgeous doing it.” His words go straight between your legs. “But I really want to fuck you. Can I fuck you?”

You nod. “Yes,” you say. “Yes, yes, please.” James stands, his cock fully at attention and slick with your spit. He pulls you up, too, holding you close enough that you feel him hot and hard against your stomach. His hands frame your face and then he’s kissing you, not at all sweetly, but dirty and messy right away. It’s all teeth and tongue and spit as he licks into your mouth. You moan into it and he walks you backwards. You grip his elbows for balance but trust that he’ll get you where you need to go.

He doesn’t stop until the backs of your knees hit a bed and you fall backwards with an oof.

James is already tugging off his shirt and then he’s entirely naked. As beautiful, maybe even more so than you remember from seeing him through the window. The light on in the bedroom means you can see him even better, the definition of his muscles, the dark of his hair. You flop back on the bed and take a breath. From this angle you can see his window — and sure enough, he’s got curtains that cover it.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” he growls. You sit up and pull off your shirt and he genuinely sighs when he sees your breasts. You lift your hips to get off your pants and underwear and he lunges into action to help you, tugging them off your ankles and tossing them somewhere on the floor. You shuffle back on the bed and he settles on top of you, bracing himself with one arm as he leans down to kiss you again.

This kiss is slower, deeper than before. He takes his time with you and you let him. Your skin on his feels incredible, warm and welcome but your arousal is throbbing between your legs. He hasn’t touched you yet.

“James,” you pant. “James.”

His lips trail down your neck, nibbling as he goes, one thumb circling your nipple.

“Hmm?”

“I need—”

“Ah,” he says, pulling up. His eyes are entirely dark now, glasses askew. “Poor girl,” he coos. “I’ve left you wanting, haven’t I?”

Now this is more how you expected him to behave. You nod a bit too eagerly.

He keeps his face over yours so he can watch your reaction but he drags one hand down your body, caressing everything as he goes until he reaches your inner thigh.

“If I knew you were watching me,” he rasps, fingers ghosting over your cunt. You squirm, bucking your hips. “I’d have put on a show.”

“I wasn’t — oh — watching,” you protest. He drags his fingers through your folds and presses his thumb to your clit.

“Sure,” he purrs. “You can from now on, if you like.” He drags his tongue up your neck. “Watch me and know I’m thinking of this.” He circles your clit and your legs fall open even more. “This sweet, wet cunt. God, love, you’re soaked.”

You are. James sounds pleased with himself.

“Don’t tease,” you grind out.

“Me? Tease?” Without warning he pushes two fingers into you, which stretches you deliciously but it’s not enough.

“James,” you whine.

“What, baby?” He sounds ragged even though you’re the one getting finger fucked.

“Less foreplay, more fucking.”

His eyebrows touch his sweaty hairline. “You sure?” he says. He pulls his fingers away and grabs your hip. “I don’t mean to sound like an asshole, but —”

“I can take it,” you assure him. You feel a bit touched that he wants to make sure you’re ready, that he can go from dirty talk to concern in a second.

He holds your gaze for a second. “Okay,” he says, finally. He moves off of you to open his nightstand drawer. You take some deep breaths. You’re so turned on you might combust. James finds a condom and puts it on as you watch. He settles back between your legs, spreading them a little more. And then he just looks.

“James, what are you doing?” Your entire body feels hot, feverish almost. You need him to fuck you, now.

He’s smirking. “Sorry,” he says, not sounding sorry at all. “You’ve just got such a pretty cunt.”

He’s might not be a murderer but you think he might kill you just the same. He lines himself up, leaning over you again so close your chests brush.

“Is this okay?” he asks. The position is a but more intimate than you’d expected for a hook up. You thought he’d fuck you from behind over the kitchen counter, or something, but you’re a little too desperate to care at this point.

“Yes,” you hiss, canting your hips. And just like that, he’s back to smirking. He runs his cock through your folds a few times and then presses into you, eyes on your face to watch for any wince. But he needn’t worry — you were right about being able to take it. The stretch is delicious as he keeps going, every inch of him pressing into your walls until he bottoms out.

“Fuck,” he hisses. “Fuck, baby.”

He lets you settle for a few moments. You press your knees into his hips. “Move, James,” you gasp. “Move.”

James slides out halfway before thrusting back in. His pace becomes steady but it’s not enough.

“Harder, James, I—”

The rain is background noise, the thunder barely registering over the smack of your flesh and your combined panting.

“Harder?” He snaps his hips and you groan. “If you say so.”

And then he pulls out. You whine, coming up to your elbows to see where he’s gone but he’s off the bed entirely, standing at the edge. He tugs you to the edge by your hips, grabbing one of your legs and hoisting it up into the air onto his shoulder. He presses your other knee towards your chest and then his cock is back inside you and he’s absolutely pounding into you.

The angle is delicious and all you can say is a series of broken yeses.

“Yes, yes, yes, James, oh my god, yes—”

“Better?” he pants.

You can barely reply. “Oh god,” you gasp.

“God, you feel so good—”

He’s hitting the right spot every time, the curve of his cock dragging as he thrusts, his balls smacking against you.

James looks gorgeous like this. He’s glowing, hair sweaty and chest glistening, his muscles rippling from effort, his glasses…on?

“I’m blind as fuck, love,” he says, grunting your name, “and I want to see you come on my cock.”

You didn’t realize you said it out loud. You fist the sheets with one hand and circle your clit messily with the other.

“James, I’m—”

“Me too,” he pants. “Me too. God, you’re so tight, you feel so good—”

“James, James, James—”

He’s everywhere. Inside you, hands on your legs, his name in your mouth. You reach for him and manage to circle his wrist with one hand. He picks up the pace somehow and you snap, back arching off the bed and cunt spasming around him. Your mouth is opened in a silent scream as the waves of pleasure run through you, your nails digging into his skin as you hold on for dear life.

James’s thrusts get sloppy and he pounds into you once, twice, three times, and then shudders, your name a broken moan from his throat. He releases your legs and bends at the waist, hands on either side of your head. His cock is still inside of you as he kisses you sweetly and sloppy.

You wrap your legs around his waist and catch your breath.

“Nice work, neighbor,” he says against your cheek.

Laughter bubbles out of you. “We should do this more often.” You clench around him because you can and he hisses.

“Give a guy a few minutes to recover, love,” he chuckles. “Then I’m all yours.”

Maybe it’s alright if you don’t get back into your flat until the morning.

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here! promptober masterlist, find all fics under #fvspromptober23

[k-nayee]

Dusk Till Dawn JJK

wc: 2.5k a/n: Song Inspiration: Dusk Till Dawn by ZAYN; recommend you listen while reading!!

Traveler M.List

ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ

Your chest heaved as you sprinted alongside Yuji, the chaos of Shibuya shaking the building around you.

The sound of curses and distant screams was muted, the only thing driving you forward being the desperate pounding of your heart.

Every step you took was filled with the nauseating fear of being too late.

And then you saw it.

Nanami.

Your heart stopped, dread freezing your veins.

There just a few feet ahead, you spotted him—his tall figure slumped, his once-immaculate suit burned and tattered.

Mahito's grotesque hand rested against his back, and in that instant, the world around you seemed to fall away.

The battle—the roars of curses, shouts of sorcerers, crashing debris—all of it became drowned out by the thundering pulse in your ears.

“Kento!” you screamed, voice cracking with desperation as your body surged forward.

But it was too far. You were too far.

His gaze shifted from Yuji, and for a fraction of a second, his weary eyes found yours.

Time slowed.

No—it wasn't just your imagination. Your cursed technique activated, a reaction so instinctive and desperate, that you barely registered it happening.

The world around you stilled even more as if caught in a slow-motion reel.

It was your family’s technique, passed down through generations: Temporal Shift; allowing you to manipulate time enough to switch places with someone in the midst of an attack—taking their place, absorbing the blow.

You could feel the familiar tug of your cursed energy rippling through your veins, gathering strength as it coiled, ready to launch you forward.

You could save him. You could—

Tears welled in your eyes. You couldn’t breathe, the weight of the moment crashing down on you.

Even shaken your resolve remained steadfast, though you weren’t sure if it was from determination or the sheer hopelessness of the situation.

Nanami's eyes widened in horror, the shock clear on his face as the cursed energy around him seemed to flicker.

He knew what you were about to do. But there was no time to protest.

No time for words.

Your lips pulled into a trembling, broken smile. There was no need for goodbyes. This was your choice.

You had always been willing to protect him—no matter the cost.

And so, with a soft breath, you whispered the word that sealed your fate.

“Switch.”

Chin up and shoulders squared, you saunter toward Nanami and Haibara’s table.

“Oh Nanami-kun~” you call his name, and for a split second you thought you saw him tense. 

You put on your best shy expression, shifting your weight from foot to foot and batting your lashes.

He looks up with a blank expression blank.

“I was wondering if you’d um...help me study for the upcoming test?” you ask, your voice softer than usual, practically dripping with sweetness.

Nanami blinked at you, clearly not expecting the request. But before he could answer you heard a loud whisper from behind you.

“Why is she acting like this?!” Gojo practically hissed, loud enough for the entire room to hear. “She never asks us for help like that!”

“Yeah, she’s never this cute when she’s begging us for anything,” Geto chimed in,  voice equally obnoxious.

Your eye twitched, fists balling up at your sides.

“You two are ruining my chance!” spinning around, you land two solid punches on both of their heads with a satisfying thud.

“Ow!” Gojo whined, rubbing the side of his head with an exaggerated pout. “What was that for?!”

“We were just trying to help,” Geto added, wincing slightly as his grin remained in place.

You glared at them both. “You two never get this treatment because you don’t deserve it!” you snapped before turning back to Nanami.

Clearing your throat you give your most charming smile. “So would you help me? Please?”

He blinked at you, expression still impassive. “No.”

“Well that was disappointing.” You sigh deeply as your shoulders slump in defeat. Quickly shrugging it off with a playful pout, you wave a hand at Gojo and Geto. “Let’s go losers.”

Gojo raised a finger ready to protest. "Actually we wanted to stay—"

You didn’t let him finish.

With a swift move you grabbed him by the collar, dragging him out of his seat, ignoring his indignant squawks of protest as you choked him slightly in the process. “Nope. You’re coming with me.”

Geto quickly raised his hands in surrender and followed after you with a laugh smile. “No complaints from me, I’m good.”

You pause at the door, glancing back at Nanami one last time. “I’ll try again when you’re in a better mood Nanami~”

You flash him a weak smile before looking over at Haibara, who had been silently observing the whole ordeal. “Oh, and hey Haibara! Sorry I didn’t say hi earlier.”

Haibara just smiled, waving your apology away with a casual gesture. “Don’t worry about it. Wouldn’t want to interrupt your budding relationship anyway.”

Both you and Nanami froze.

Heat rushed to your face as Nanami’s head snapped toward Haibara. “What are you—”

“Wait—really?!” You practically shouted, heart leaping in your chest as you stepped forward. “He talks about me?!”

Haibara, realizing his mistake, stammered nervously under Nanami’s murderous gaze. “Uh I mean—well—n-not exactly! I might have been mistaken! Haha, I don’t know what I’m talking about...”

But it was too late. The damage had been done. You were already too far gone, completely starry-eyed and grinning from ear to ear.

Practically floating on air, you offer a faint farewell as you continue to drag Gojo, still ignoring his pleas for mercy as he weakly flail to escape your grip.

“Now why do you let her do that?” Geto mused with a raised eyebrow as the Limitless Curse user struggled in vain. “You could just turn on Infinity.”

“Because she’d just hit me harder,” Gojo whined as you tugged him through the door.

You paid them no mind, your thoughts too consumed with Haibara’s words.

Nanami talked about you. Even if it was just a small passing comment, it was enough to keep your heart racing for the rest of the day.

You were so going to try again later.

════════════════*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═════════════════

The mission had seemed simple at first—just another exorcism in a quiet town far removed from the chaos of Tokyo.

It had been long and tiring, but it seems the curse that had been terrorizing the area was finally dealt with. 

You, Nanami, and Haibara stood amidst the rubble of what had once been a bustling street.

Now all that remained was to clean up. Though your mind was already on other things.

You had your phone pressed to your ear, chatting with Gojo about the snack run you two had planned after the mission. “No no trust me, Gojo. They have the best dorayaki in the area. You just need to—”

“Focus,” Nanami’s stern voice cut through your conversation. He gave you a withering glance, his usual look of disapproval that came whenever you let your guard down.

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Oh come on Nami-kun. We already took care of the curse. Why so serious?”

He didn’t answer but his brow furrowed, the tension in his shoulders unrelenting.

Typical Nanami—always so on edge, never allowing himself even a moment of ease.

You give him a playful glance, but before you could say anything else something flickered in your peripheral vision.

Your face contorted in a flash of confusion, then fear. Your instincts screamed and a cold sweat broke across your skin.

Haibara noticed the shift in your expression first. “Hey what’s—”

You didn’t even have time to finish your sentence before the Grade 1 curse ambushed.

It came out of nowhere, its grotesque form twisting in the shadows, lunging at Haibara with deadly intent.

His brown eyes widened in shock, too slow to react as the curse’s blow landed upside his head with a sickening slash, knocking him down with a thud.

“Haibara!” Nanami yelled in panic.

Your heart lurched as you saw the curse’s next attack winding up, its malevolent energy aimed straight at the fallen sorcerer.

There wasn’t time to think—only time to act.

"Switch!" you shouted, your cursed technique roaring to life.

In an instant you felt the familiar pull of energy shift between you and Haibara.

The world seemed to blur for a heartbeat, and then the curse’s attack struck you instead.

The force of the blow hit your side, white-hot pain searing through your body as you absorbed the impact.

You collapsed, the wind knocked out of you, but at least Haibara was out of danger.

"Dammit!" Nanami’s curse technique activated in a flash, slicing clean through the air as he moved to exorcise the curse.

His strikes were shar and precise, fueled by barely restrained fury as he tore into the creature.

Haibara, regaining his balance, joined him, and together they finished off the curse.

You lay on the ground, clutching your side where blood oozed from the gash.

“Are you okay?!” Haibara rushed over to you, his voice trembling with panic.

His face was pale and you could see the terror in his brown eyes—terror that, if it weren’t for your intervention, he would have been the one lying in your place.

Nanami appeared at your other side, his face set in a hard line, though his hands shook slightly as he reached out to check your wound.

“I’m fine,” you muttered through gritted teeth, wincing as they tried to help you up.

“Fine?” Nanami’s voice was low, but there was an edge to it that made you falter. “You call this fine?”

*.·:·.☽✧✧☾.·:·.*

Back in the infirmary, the antiseptic smell hung in the air as Shoko patched you up before leaving to tend others.

You were sore but relatively lucky—your cursed technique had softened the blow, though the pain still pulsed dully through your body.

Haibara sat at a chair nearby, his face still pale as he absentmindedly touched the new scar that ran along his jawline.

Nanami remained standing with an unreadable expression.

Gojo and Geto had stopped by to check on you earlier, their usual banter lightening the mood as Gojo teased you about how reckless you always were.

“What luck you have,” he’d said grinning, “being able to switch places like that. Almost unfair.”

They’d left soon after, leaving just you, Nanami, and Haibara.

Suddenly He spoke, voice soft and shaky. “Today was...a wake-up call.”

You look up in confusion. “Haibara?”

He glanced between you and Nanami, his lips pressing into a tight line before he exhaled deeply.

“If ____ hadn’t been there, I would’ve...” His voice cracked and he swallowed. “I’m stepping away from the Jujutsu world.”

The weight of his words hit you like a punch to the gut. Haibara was always the cheerful one, the one who saw the good in things.

For him to step away...it was serious.

 Haibara stood slowly, walking over to your bedside with his head low.

When he finally lifted his gaze to meet yours his eyes were filled with unshed tears.

He give a deep bow, his voice thick with emotion. “Thank you...for saving me. I owe you my life.”

You wave off his gratitude, trying to play it cool despite the lump forming in your throat. “You don’t owe me anything. Just...don’t forget about us okay?”

Haibara’s expression softened, and to your surprise, he bent down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

The gesture was affectionate, almost like a farewell. He leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Nanami may seem cold... but he’s a softy. Talks about you a lot.”

You blink in shock as heat rushed to your face. Haibara gave you a pointed look, a teasing smile tugging at his lips.

You tried to hold back a grin but it was impossible.

Chuckling softly, he turns to Nanami, offering a firm handshake and a brief hug.

With one last nod Haibara left, leaving you and Nanami in the quiet of the infirmary.

For a long moment neither you nor Nanami said a word. The silence between you was heavy.

You absentmindedly pick at the blanket on your lap, trying to think of something—anything, to break the tension.

“So...” You forced a weird smile. “Nice weather we’ve been having this week huh?”

Nanami’s eyes darkened. 

"How could you be so...so irresponsible?" His voice was low, trembling with barely-contained anger.

Your smile faltered. "Wait...what?"

Nanami’s fists clenched at his sides as he took a step closer, his brows furrowed.

"You weren’t even supposed to be on that mission in the first place. You—" His voice strained as he tried to keep his emotions in check. "You put yourself in danger. You could have—"

You sat up, your frown deepening. "It was a good thing I was there. Everything turned out fine didn’t it? Plus if I hadn’t bee—”

“What if you died?!” He cut you off, his frustration boiling over as he stared at you with wide teary eyes.

You fell silent, mouth half-open, the words dying in your throat.

“What if you didn’t make it in time? What if Haibara died? Or you?” His usually neat hair was disheveled as if he was barely holding it together.

Nanami took a shaky breath, his gaze dropping to the floor as he continued. “I—I wouldn’t have been able to...”

The room seemed to still, his words hanging in the air like a weight pressing down on your chest.

You hadn’t expected this. You hadn’t realized just how deeply it had affected him.

Without thinking you reach out and grab his hand, your fingers intertwining with his.

He look at you in shock, his wide hazel eyes filled with vulnerability.

Before he could say anything your other hand gently cradle his face as you lean in and press a soft kiss to his lips.

When you pulled away, his face was a deep shade of red, his lips trembling in disbelief.

“Stop worrying so much Nami-kun,” you offer him a gentle smile and tilt your head playfully. “You’ll never be alone. I’m right here babes.”

With a wink, you lift his hand and wrap your pinky around his. "From dusk till dawn yeah?"

Nanami’s breath hitched, his heart pounding in his chest as he stared at you.

Slowly, his hand tightened around yours, eyes softening as the tension began to melt away.

"Yeah," he whispered. "From dusk till dawn."

One second you were standing several feet away, your feet skidding on the rubble-strewn ground, and the next—

You were there.

In his place.

Mahito's hand was now on you, the twisted grin on the curse's face shifting as he blinked in mild surprise.

The sickening energy from his Idle Transfiguration seeped into your skin, and in that split second, you felt the inevitability of it all.

No your eyes were still on Nanami, who stood frozen where you had been just moments before.

But you didn’t look at Mahito.

Burns of his half-obliterated body was nothing compared to the raw horror that filled his chest now.

The world was moving again—too fast, too harsh—and yet you held on to this fleeting moment to simply smile.

For him, you’d smile one last time.

And then—pain.

“Well...that was the wrong person,” Mahito mused, his grin widening. He tilted his head, eyes gleaming with mock innocence. “Oops. Oh well.”

[nico-the-newt]

Enemies to Lovers - Ellie Williams x reader

summary: you and Ellie had hated each other the moment you stepped foot in Jackson. Others disagree.

warnings: swearing, Ellie's a bit of a dick, mentions guns

You could honestly say that you had no idea how it happened. One moment you were scanning through the old, abandoned supermarket with Jesse for supplies, laughing at something stupid he had said. And suddenly, in an instance, you found yourself being ambushed by a hoard of runners.

Patrol had started off as it usually did when you were grouped with Dina, Jesse and Ellie. The four of you were walking down the old, dirt road to the abandoned supermarket that Maria had assigned you to patrol. As usual, Jesse and Dina were being coupley and affectionate - arms wrapped around each other, hands linked, noses bumping, as you and Ellie grumpily walked beside them, shooting each other looks and making snide remarks. The pair of you had had a strained relationship since your arrival in Jackson two years before. You thought she was rude and cocky. She thought you were obnoxious and demanding. In fact, the pair of you despised each other so much you weren’t even aware that you were very similar - personality-wise.

You still cursed Jesse for forcing you on patrol with Ellie. He and Dina had some sort of weird idea that you and Ellie secretly liked each other, enemies to lovers, as Dina put it. You had laughed in their faces.

“Not if she was the last person in the world,” you had scoffed, but that did not change their minds in the slightest.

When you finally arrived at the old building, you were extremely tired and grumpy. Ellie had spent the first ten minutes of the walk complaining about how late you had been that morning (she had arrived twenty minutes early to patrol just to give you a hard time), which sparked an argument that lasted for the rest of the trip. You could tell Dina and Jesse were completely  over the pair of you and it secretly made you pleased to prove them wrong.

“Jeez, look at this place,” Ellie sighed in admiration when you entered the supermarket. You couldn’t deny that you shared her admiration. There was something so beautiful about the place being covered in vines and sunlight streaming in through a big hole in the roof, lighting up the entire store. You wouldn’t let that be known though.

“‘Jeez, look at this place’” you imitated in an annoying voice that sounded nothing like Ellie.

“Hey, what’s your fucking problem, man!” Ellie exclaimed, storming towards you.

“You are-!”

“Okay!” Dina called, coming between you and Ellie before the shoving and arguing began again. “This place is pretty big - why don’t we pair up and split off. Ellie and I’ll look on this side, you guys look on that side.”

Ellie shot a scowl at you, which you gladly returned, but you followed Dina’s orders nonetheless and trailed off after Jesse.

“You and Ellie need to chill,” he said, after a period of companionable silence.

“Ellie needs to stop being an asshole,” you grumbled, causing Jesse to let out a laugh.

“You’re just as much of an asshole as she is,” he chuckled, shaking his head  in amusement and slipping a bottle of disinfectant he had found into his bag.

“No one is as big of an asshole as Ellie is,” you said pointedly. “Except maybe you~”

“Oof, low blow,” Jesse grinned, placing a hand over his chest in mocked hurt. “However will I get over that one?"

“Please, you’ll get over it,” you had laughed, finally starting to feel at ease for the first time that day. Unfortunately, the feeling had left as soon as it came due to a loud crash coming from the loading dock behind you.

“The fuck was that?” You muttered, instantly grabbing your gun and pointing it in the direction of the loading dock.

“Dunno,” Jesse hissed, drawing his gun too. When there was no other noise after a few minutes, you both slowly started edging your way towards where the original sound had come from. You practically hear your heart beating out of your chest. A cold bead of sweat dripped down the back of your neck and you almost found yourself holding your breath. However, the anticipation was all for nothing, as when you had poked your head around the corner, there was nothing there but old, dusty boxes and a rusty hand truck.

“Nothing,” you shrugged, a frown crossing your brow. “Weird.”

You stepped back towards Jesse, unaware of the runner that had been coming up behind you until its hands were grasping your shoulders and it was trying to bite your neck off. You didn’t even have enough time to be scared as several gunshots went off and caused our ears to ring like crazy and your vision to fog over.

“Come on!”

Jesse grabbed your arm and dragged you away from the area and back into reality. It was only when you could hear again and actually heard the screams and groans, along with the sound of rabid footsteps behind you, that you finally found control of your legs once more and began to run. Jesse and you crashed through a door and into a small office at the back of the store. Jesse pressed his body up against the door and you quickly copied, as there was nothing to barricade the door with. This is how I die. We’re gonna die. You couldn’t stop these morbid thoughts from bouncing around in your brain as you used all your body weight and strength to push against the door, despite the fact that the strength of the infected easily overpowered you and the door had begun to come off its hinges. You were certain they were about to break the door down completely, and was preparing for the worst, when you suddenly heard a series of gunshots outside, followed by some grunt and yells, and finally, silence. The pressure you had been fighting off against the door had stopped, though you and Jesse remained pressed against it for a few minutes - neither of you sure if it was actually safe. It was only when you heard Dina anxiously yell for the both of you that you realised it was over and cautiously moved back from the door - just in time for her to practically kick the door down and throw herself at Jesse when she realised you were both still alive. You closed your eyes and leaned back against the desk to catch your breath, completely oblivious to Ellie’s presence looming towards you at speed. It was only when she practically shoved you over and cupped your face to see you for herself that your eyes flew open and you stared at her, confused but not disliking the feeling of her hands on your face.

“You fucking idiot!” She exclaimed, letting go of your face and wrapping you in a hug. You were surprised at the contact but didn’t care and hugged her back, simply grateful to be alive and not bitten. And that Ellie was hugging you

“It’s okay. It’s over,” you sighed, rubbing her back comfortingly and raising your middle finger towards Jesse and Dina when you saw them smirking at the pair of you.

“Enemies to lovers,” Dina mouthed with a smug smile.

Part 2 can be found here:

[girlnadian]

Summary. A part of Wato had been expecting Ken to just pop up. She thought that as soon as she deleted the server, they'd be there, right by her side as if nothing happened. They aren't, though. Even with the End Barrens gone, Wato doesn't see Ken again.

Notes. spoilers for watos 100 days video. a fucking ghost possessed me on my 36 hour trip and i banged all of this out while on planes or waiting for planes. i miss kenwato so bad. banner from here

3.8k words // read on ao3

For as long as Wato has known them, Ken has been someone who just disappears. She's used to it—being suddenly unable to reach them for days at a time, only to come back to their shared world one day and find Ken there, with petals in their hair and wearing Wato's colors like they never left. Wato knows that, so she shouldn't have been surprised when they didn't stick around in one place for an entire hundred days, and she shouldn't feel so sick to her stomach when she doesn't see them again immediately after.

That cottage is the closest thing either of them has to a home world, even if it sits abandoned more often than not. Ken and Wato are both busy, constantly, flitting from project to project and slinking back into the world when things get too bad anywhere else. It's the first place Wato wants to go after the End Barrens—the world is green and alive and beautiful, but it's still just her.

<Wato1876> Ken?

No response. Wato gives it ten minutes and then tries again.

<Wato1876> Did you make it out?

No response. Wato's tail thumps nervously against the mattress of her bed. She never saw Ken leave the server, but even if they were online when she wiped it, it should have just kicked them off. They should be here. Ignoring her outright isn't like them.

(There had been something of an argument, and Wato had grappled with that for months on her own. She thinks of Ken and imagines their laugh and It's poetic, isn't it? but she knows they didn't mean it. Ken has never been cruel on purpose. They couldn't have known. She never saw a leave message, but she never saw anything else from them either. She just wants to–)

<Wato1876> Im not mad

<Wato1876> Ken. Please

Wato gives it half an hour, and then she crawls under her blanket. When she falls asleep for the first time in a hundred days, she does it still alone and she doesn't dream.

Wifies hasn't seen them, either. He asks Parrot for her—nothing. Wato reaches out to Avatar, but no one has heard from Ken in months. Weren't they with you? The dread that's been building in the back of Wato's throat starts to become an acidic sort of panic. They should be here. They have to be somewhere, but even with all four of them trying to reach out, no one gets a response.

<Wato1876> Are you okay?

<Wato1876> I just want to know that youre okay

She just wants to see them. She wants to hear their voice (It's poetic, isn't it?)—she did nothing but miss them and miss them day in and day out and they should be here. The End Barrens are gone. Wato reminds herself over and over, pacing the wooden floors of Ken's bedroom: the End Barrens are gone. She should have checked who was online, but she had been so desperate to rid herself of the whole experience—there's no way something could have gone wrong, could it? She's deleted servers with people online before. No matter how many times she replays the process in her mind, she can't fathom what would have been different, but she had been so dazed–

(Ken's room is always so messy. Wato carefully steps over diagrams and blueprints that have fallen to the floor, and stops the restless swishing of her tail so she doesn't accidentally blow any papers under the bed, but she can't bring herself to pace anywhere else.

She crawls on top of Ken's split-colored sheets to sleep, instead of under them, because she doesn't want to disturb anything.)

Four days after leaving the End Barrens and with no word from Ken, Wifies visits. That confusing knot of emotions gets pulled so tight that Wato nearly throws up.

"Hey," Wifies smiles apologetically. "Sorry to drop by unannounced."

When Wifies comes in, he brushes past her in a way that knocks their shoulders together, and Wato fails to stifle the full body shudder at the contact. If Wifies notices, he doesn't say anything. He scans the house, ears swiveling before he smoothes out the motion. Wato's ears flatten against her head.

"Just me here," she confirms. Wifies gives her a look she can't read—that seems to happen a lot with him. She loves him dearly, but sometimes she feels like she never lands right with him. (Ken is better with him.) She turns to let Wifies deeper into the house, and her feet carry her without thinking about where she's going. Wifies follows behind her until she sees the lemon-and-lime decorations of the room.

"Did something happen?" Wifies asks. It's quiet and soft—What happened to Ken?

Wato winces, and then forces a shrug.

"We got… separated, early in the challenge. They still haven't turned up," Wato knows that her voice shakes. She hopes Wifies doesn't call it out. "I'm… I'm sure they will."

The server's only been gone four days, she tells herself. As long as she doesn't think about all the days without Ken before that, it isn't that long. Wifies frowns, like he knows something is wrong but isn't sure what to make of it. Wato isn't doing a good job at reassuring him, she realizes. Four days isn't long for Ken to be gone.

(She's known Ken for so long. She tries to remember their laugh but it's always overlayed with the screech of an Enderman pinning her in place. It's poetic, isn't it?)

The way Wifies is looking at her makes her want to shy away, but she doesn't. His eyes are a duller purple than she imagined, and nothing screams at her, but she still has to force herself to look at him directly. He's solid around the edges. He shifts his weight and the floorboards creak under him.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Wato asks.

She only does it to get them out of this room and away from the conversation, but when she hands Wifies his cup fifteen minutes later it remains a firm weight in his hands. Wato releases a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. As worried about Ken as she had been, she sort of… forgot: she hadn't seen anyone else yet, either.

They chat and catch up; Wifies doesn't say Ken's name and so Wato doesn't, either. Wifies waves idly as he leaves, and Wato walks up to Ken's room and lays on top of the sheets and tucks her tail against her body. She doesn't dream, and Wifies comes back the next day. They busy themselves with idle chatter and discussion about escape room ideas, and Wifies waves idly as he leaves, and Wato walks up to Ken's room and lays on top of the sheets and tucks her tail against her body. She doesn't dream, and she stops messaging Ken every day, and she doesn't hear from or see them.

Ten days after leaving the End Barrens, the door to their cottage creaks open. Wato jolts up like she's been shocked, ears pricked towards the entrance so hard it aches. There's a beat of silence, and the footsteps that follow are paw-pad soft. Someone who's naturally quiet, not someone who's trying to be.

Wato wants to call out, but the name gets caught in her throat even though she'd recognize the cadence of those steps anywhere. She doesn't need to—the door to Ken's room swings open, and mismatched yellow-and-green eyes stare back at her in the low light.

Ken's eyes are wide and startled, and it occurs to Wato that she should be embarrassed about being caught curled up in a ball on their bed. Ken's mouth opens and then closes, and then they turn and disappear down the hall.

"W-wait," Wato makes a mess of the sheets in her haste to scramble up. "Wait! Ken!"

A door slams shut. It's not the front door, though—Wato gets out into the hall and realizes the door to her bedroom is now locked.

Ken is gone in the morning.

<_Kenadian_> im busy

<_Kenadian_> you dont have to wait for me

Wato waits anyway. Any work she has to do, she can do from the cottage—she isn't anywhere near building stages. She lets Wifies and Avatar know that Ken is back and declines Wifies' offer to visit further.

Now that she's seen them (it was them, she's pretty sure—they moved the door and she heard their footsteps), the fact they're avoiding her is startlingly more obvious. There's a fragment of Wato's chest that wants to be angry about that, but every time she replays that brief glimpse in her mind all her frustration turns back into clawing, lonely desperation. She didn't get a good enough look at them, but she thinks… When was the last time she saw Ken wide-eyed like that? It wasn't just surprise; they looked scared.

She tries to be mad, but she thinks about the End Barrens and what it did to her, and then she thinks about Ken. There hadn't been food, she remembers, and then she thinks about Ken. Wato had at least been able to death reset, but Ken hadn't died or returned to spawn once. What were they doing all that time, without a way to eat or regain health?

She doesn't bother texting them to ask, because she knows they won't answer. Ken comes back three days later, and this time Wato makes sure she's in her own room. There's a small tuft of unnatural yellow fur caught in her bed frame—Wato picks up the reminder, soft and physical between the pads of her fingers, and nearly sobs.

Ken always comes back at night, but Wato is never asleep when they do. Sometimes she stays up near the front door just to see them, and on the third time she does, Ken mutters a greeting (It's poetic, isn't it?) before vanishing up into their room again. Every time, Wato trembles with the barely-restrained urge to grab by the shoulders just to prove she can—she doesn't know what she'd do after that, though.

It's weird and tentative. Wato wouldn't even really call it peace. Ken is constantly skirting around the edges of her vision, and Wato doesn't turn her head for fear that if she looks at them directly the illusion will shatter. (She catches them in the morning light, once, on their way out—she notices how thin their wrists look. Ken has always been small, but have they always looked like that? Does Wato look any better?) Instead, her eyes are always just behind them, so she can see the way they interact with the world and remind herself that she isn't imagining them. She doesn't sleep in their room anymore, but she doesn't need to—those same yellow tufts of fur end up all over the cottage again. Ken takes cups out in the morning and leaves them out. They're tangible enough things that Wato doesn't feel like panicking every time Ken is out of her sight, and it's enough, for a little bit.

"Were you looking through my blueprints?"

She catches them in their makeshift kitchen, which is just where the furnaces are. Ken's tail puffs, flicks to the side, and then smooths out again. A few months ago, Wato would have laughed at them for being surprised by her voice. It's the first time she's addressed them directly in… a while now.

Between tufts of fur and moved cups, Wato notices the papers detailing her next project being shuffled like someone was flipping through them. She isn't upset, it was just…

"It looks good," says Ken. "I was just curious."

It was just unexpected. Sharing blueprints is something she wouldn't have thought twice about, before. Ken is always curious. Wato is the one who wants to wait in one place.

"Just good?" Wato asks. She sounds, unwittingly, like she's talking to a nervous stray, but only because Ken is treating her like one in kind. Ken has never called her puzzles just good. This is their art as much as it is hers—they always have something to say.

Ken hesitates. Their tail sways restlessly behind them. Say something, Wato wants to beg. I know you have thoughts. Say something. Don't leave me here.

"It looks good," Ken repeats. Wato supposes good is better than poetic.

Eventually, Wato can't procrastinate with just blueprints and small mockups anymore. She needs to start doing full prototypes, which comes with two more, slightly uncomfortable truths: she needs to leave her server with Ken to start building, and she needs playtesters. Normally, she wouldn't even have to ask Ken—often, Ken would just show up to whatever server she's building in unannounced and then refuse to explain how they got the IP. Now, though, when everything Ken offers her is through murmurs… She's not sure.

"You should just ask them," Wifies says. "If you aren't sure."

The void is easier to stomach than the End Barrens. Wato forgoes a dirt block in her design and replaces it with netherrack. She'll have to give the player a pickaxe to mine it, but if it's a wooden one that shouldn't allow them to get any blocks they aren't supposed to.

"I don't know," Wato says. "Maybe they just need to rest some more."

Not that Wato knows what Ken has been doing, outside the time she sees them at the cottage. It's been weeks, nearly a month, and Wato hasn't explained the End Barrens to anyone—Ken hasn't asked and Wato hasn't asked them either, and Wato doesn't even know how she would explain it to someone who wasn't there and didn't see what it was like.

"Are you just talking about the escape room?" Wifies voice drops, What happened to Ken? and Wato fumbles.

"What else would I be talking about?"

"I get the feeling," Wifies talks slow, like he's choosing his words very, very carefully, "that you two aren't talking much at all."

Wato erects a wall of bedrock. A voice in her head reminds her to be cognizant of the wall thickness, because there's access to a boat in a later room. People think they can get away with two, it says, but you actually need three layers to stop someone from phasing through.

"It's complicated," Wato settles on. It's ultimately not more complicated than the fact she created escape rooms for Wifies' evil creator who was also Wifies, but it sure feels that way—and isn't that so telling. Maybe Wifies thinks the same thing, because he raises a brow.

"I'm only making a suggestion, but it kind of sucks—watching you two like this."

Wato winces. Wifies is right, but…

Ken is back now, but it's so, so fragile. Wato imagines the conversation playing out, and she imagines saying the wrong thing, and Ken leaving and being gone for good this time. If Wato couldn't even convince them to stay with her before, how would she do it now? Is she even ready to share something like this with Ken again?

She thinks about saying I'll ask soon, but she doesn't want to make a promise she can't keep, especially not to Wifies. "I'll think about it," is what she settles on instead. As if she hasn't been thinking about it for months and months already.

Ken must realize she's started building. Wato can see that ever-present and rampant curiosity in the back of their eyes, but they don't say anything. Wato finds herself more and more unsure of what to make of things the longer it goes on. It hurts more to realize that they want to ask but won't—why? Why put them both through this? Why hover if they won't commit?

Wato climbs up to Ken's room and sits on their bed. Their blankets are rumpled and one of their pillows has fallen on the floor. She places herself on the edge of the mattress and waits.

She's banking on the idea that Ken even comes back tonight, but it seems like luck is on her side. The door to Ken's room swings open, and mismatched yellow and green eyes stare back at her in the light, wide and startled.

"Wato?"

"I started building a new escape room," she says, which is—okay, maybe not the most elegant start to the conversation, but the words tumble out as soon as she sees them. Ken furrows their brow and one of their ears flicks.

I need playtesters next. You're the best one I know. Wato imagines herself saying it. She can hear the words in her head in her voice, but they don't make it into the air. Ken stares at her for a long moment, before both their ears fall.

"That's… good, I–"

"Don't you want to be there?"

That isn't what she meant to say at all. Ken freezes, but Wato keeps talking—"Why don't you want to be there?"

"I do!" Ken's voice raises a pitch. They sound helpless. "I always want to–"

"No you don't. You don't always want to be there."

Ken hasn't moved, but Wato stands and starts to pace, shoes scuffing against the hardwood floor. She can feel their eyes tracking her, back and forth, until she asks again, "Why weren't you there? Where did you go, Ken?"

I missed you. I thought about you constantly. I miss you right now, where did you go? Were you okay? Are you okay? Wato doesn't ask and Ken doesn't say—Ken will never fold and Wato will always be left to pick up their discarded cards and try to make a hand. They just watch her. Wato inhales sharply, and Ken in kind makes a wet, choked-off noise.

"I didn't…" Ken tries—she can tell they're trying but she's so tired of it. They keep twitching like they're moments away from fleeing, and if they left again Wato would have no way to stop them again. She can't keep chasing the lie of permanence forever.

"Just go if you're going to go," she bites out. The words feel like a punch to her—she doesn't look at Ken to see how they take it. She turns towards the wall with no clue how long they stand there struggling, and she lets Ken disappear down the hall and then out the front door.

_Kenadian_ has left the game.

Wato doesn't make it to Ken's bed; she sinks to her knees on the floor and lets sobs wrack her body until exhaustion overtakes her.

She gets Parrot and Seawatt to playtest for her, instead. She thinks about asking Wifies, but she doesn't feel like enduring his concerned looks when he notices Ken isn't around. It goes smoothly, if dully. There are no sequence-breaking ways to glitch out of the map, and it's impossible to eliminate cheesing but it doesn't seem obnoxiously easy.

All she needs to do is decorate the winner's platform. No one is coming to playtest, so she doesn't bother checking the user list until paw-pad soft steps come from somewhere behind her. Part of her figured she'd never see Ken again—most of her still imagines this will be the last time.

"I didn't think you'd want to see me again," Ken says. Wato pauses. "After I left, and I laughed at you while doing it—I didn't think you'd…"

Ken swallows. "Leaving spawn was a bad idea. You were right."

"What happened, Ken?"

Ken laughs, but it's rueful and strained. Wato finally turns enough to see them run a hand through their hair.

"I just kept walking," Ken says, "I couldn't eat, because there was no food, so I just walked and walked. No structures, just dirt and Endermen and sometimes water, but never any fish—and I was just on half a heart, forever, and I couldn't die because dying would send me back."

"You could have come back," Wato argues. "Ken, I wanted you there—I wanted you to come back so bad it killed me."

Ken's expression twists up. Their chest heaves, and Wato's vision blurs in turn.

"I was too stubborn, I guess. I just– I just kept walking, and I never accomplished anything, and I was so tired but I had to keep walking. I couldn't come back empty-handed after how I treated you, and if I got to the Nether I could travel through there to get back to you faster, but," Ken's tail coils around their leg miserably. "I didn't make it. I was– was basically starving to death the whole time, and I couldn't regen health, so even falling a couple of blocks felt paralyzing. I don't know."

"Ken–"

"I want to be here, Wato, I promise. I didn't think it would—it was supposed to be a stupid challenge. I saw all your death messages, and when you got the Nether, and when you– you– but I didn't– I'm sorry. Wato, I'm sorry."

At the first sign of tears, Wato lurches forward. Ken hits the floor and Wato goes with them, burying her nose in Ken's soft hair and squeezing her eyes shut. Ken's claws dig into her back, but they're real and alive and here.

"I just wanted to know you were okay," Wato croaks. "It was just… the same thing every day, waiting for something to happen, and it was so lonely. And then the server was gone, but you still weren't there–"

"I'm sorry," Ken whines. Wato tucks their head under her chin. "I didn't want to upset you."

"It was so, so lonely," she echoes, again, a little hollow. "Did you hallucinate, too?"

Ken sniffs, "What?"

Despite everything, Wato laughs. "I started to– I guess I just couldn't handle being on my own, so I started hallucinating. I thought Wifies was there—don't tell him. I haven't told him."

Ken's hair is wet with her tears, but they only press in closer. Wato idly starts to run a hand along Ken's ears—she only realizes now how unkempt their fur is, and when she reaches a hand up to her own ear, it feels the same way.

"I won't tell," Ken promises. "I'm sorry, Wato."

"It's okay," and she means it. She can't remember the last time she felt this okay. Ken remains a warm, shuddering weight in her arms—and it's okay. It's okay. Wato squeezes them tight one more time before pulling back to look at their face.

"Let's just go home, alright?"

She'll finish the winner's platform later, but she'll probably ask Ken to do a run-through of the room before she finalizes it. For now, they reconnect to their server; Ken takes Wato's hand and pulls her into their house. Wato crawls into Ken's bed and Ken settles in next to her, curls their tail around her leg and presses their face into her shoulder as their chest rumbles with slightly uneven purrs, and it's okay. They're both okay.

[lexicorp]

Transformers Earthspark: Another Place, Another Prison

Got another chapter where it switches from Megs to Star, although they don't actually interact again yet this time lol. This one ended up being pretty long, and I split a section that was originally in this chapter off into its own. Cuz i hadn't planned Meg's section in my first outline, but it felt p necessary to add.

Megs is a bit salty, Prowl kinda wants to do a moida, Optimus is an optimistic bean, and Starscream is fucking tired of all this shit-

I swear dude it is getting increasingly hard to decide on screenshots for these chapters-

Previous Chapter: A Broken Boogeyman

First Chapter: The Need For Read

Next Chapter: Settling Into Circumstance

Chapter 8: The Illusion of Freedom

Once they had finally managed to tranquilize Starscream through his absurd amount of flailing, Megatron had carried his mangled frame to the medbay. Arcee was seen to by Wheeljack first, of course. Megatron had found himself on auto pilot as he watched and waited until he could finally release the seeker from his periodically tense hold. 

Soon enough, Elita-1 took Arcee to a separate room to lie down, and Megatron carefully approached to place Starscream on the medberth. Leaked Energon dripped from Megatron’s servos and spotted the ground. He stared down at it. Then back at Starscream.

“Are you alright, Megatron?” Optimus’ servo was suddenly upon his shoulder and he flinched.

“Ah– Yes. Yes of course…” He responded with a gentle brushing away of the attempt at comfort from the sentimental mech. Megatron’s gaze flickered only momentarily to address the question before falling back upon the air commander. The sparking, practically entirely severed, crushed limb. The scorched, leaking chasm in the wing. Every dent, crack, and burn.

“Would you like to be given a quick check at least? You took quite the blow yourself–”

“No.” Megatron snapped a bit too forcefully with a hand raised to silence him, then in-vented in a practiced means at cooling his nerves. “Starscream requires such attention more than I, at the moment.”

Wheeljack shrugged as he turned back towards the medberth with newly acquired materials. “Alrighty then. Might I ask y’all what ol’ Screamer did ta get this banged up?” 

“How about you focus on your work instead of bothering yourself with such details, medic.” Megatron forcefully kept his tone as monotone as he could. He often tired of how needlessly talkative the Autobots could be. There was no reason to talk about such things after it had already been done. How would describing just how Starscream had severed his own ped from his frame, in some insane act of desperation, possibly aid in repairing it? 

Prowl looked as if he was ready to berate him for the comment for some reason or another. He was only stopped by Optimus inserting himself between them with his more softly toned criticism, “I know you are concerned Megatron, but do refrain from lashing out at your team. Perhaps you should take a seat, and we all may discuss the past hour’s events.”

Megatron’s optical ridge furrowed as the frown deepened on his face. He had hardly lashed out. These mechs could be so sensitive. Even so, he knew Optimus was right. Perhaps it would be good to discuss it, to some regard. There were a good deal of things to consider, in a matter of building upon what the future would hold as a result. That must have been what Wheeljack had meant all along. Megatron’s anger had always been quite a volatile thing to balance. 

“Fine.” He inevitably relented to join Optimus and Prowl at a cluster of crates used in place of chairs. 

“Yeesh, I’d bet we could cut this tension y’all got goin’ on with the dullest knife in the bottom of my tool box.” Wheeljack commented ridiculously, but at least he was finally beginning the patch job as he should. Then, as the mech actually gave more precise focus to his work, he hummed and tapped at a few select places on Starscream’s chassis. The most noticeable being the odd red cracks extending down from the optics. “This ain’t any of your doin’ I reckon.” As he tested it with a scalpel, Starscream tensed and a reactive crimson light shone dimly from somewhere within his broken cockpit. 

Megatron’s eyes widened, “Leave that be.” He ordered, but then remembered again that it might be better to give more explanation. “...He seems to still be connected to the effects of the more chaotic side of the Emberstone. It would be wise not to test it, as we do not know what exactly triggers the episodes.”

“Did you know about this?” Prowl questioned in a rather accusatory tone.

“Only recently.”

“That is soon enough to inform your team of the obvious threat! How could you just let such a thing linger, and wait until it explodes on us?” Prowler’s stance was practically revving to jump from his seat, as he leaned forward just enough to gesture a servo in Megatron’s direction around Optimus.

Optimus of course, raised his hands placatingly to diffuse the growing situation. “Megatron informed me about what he had seen as soon as he could, Prowl. We simply underestimated what it could entail.”

Prowler immediately reeled himself in to assume a more professional posture, “I see… Well. I must admit, Optimus sir, that I also find it a bit strange that we brought such a clearly volatile Decepticon here to be repaired. Would it not just be a waste, when as soon as he’d come back online he’d no doubt cause us continued trouble? If we cannot keep him contained in the brig, and we cannot nullify whatever power he has harnessed, then it would be the most effective solution to simply terminate him.”

Megatron clenched his fists and glowered his optics. “Effective…?” He breathed in a near whisper at the absolute gall of the proposition. As an infamous Decepticon trapper, was that how this mech had orchestrated his operations during the war? Execution merely based on fear? Or an overt disregard for the lives of their enemy if they outlived their supposed usefulness, or tipped some untold scale of risk? Optimus would never allow such a thing!

Then again, the Decepticons had carried out such orders towards Autobots during the war as well. The realization made his shoulders slump as a more somber air replaced his anger. There…could be some logic in Prowl’s query, he supposed. He was certainly no mech to judge the thought, after all. 

Regardless, Megatron would not allow what he’d just witnessed to be left to become yet another regret to haunt his processor. Starscream was not beyond redemption. He was sick. There had to be something they could do. Megatron couldn’t simply toss Starscream to the Pit this time. He wouldn’t. 

“We do not terminate our prisoners.” Optimus started with an assured lilt in his tone as he kept Megatron in the edge of his vision. “Instead, we must determine an alternative approach.”

The plainly obvious statement left both Megatron and Prowl staring at the Prime silently. To Prowler’s credit, he seemed to be having a thousand thoughts running through his head in some effort to piece together the answer. Megatron only found his own thoughts rather blank. He wasn’t sure what they could do. What would be the best way to handle Starscream’s erratic nature? Not to mention the strange affliction the seeker had given himself. Who would Starscream possibly be swayed by? 

…The Terrans?

Finally, Prowler spoke up as he realized that it seemed they were all waiting for someone else to make the next move. Although only in an effort to gain some clarification from his leader. “Which would be…what, sir?” Perhaps he had become more hesitant to voice his own choice of action.

Optimus pulled a servo to his chin in a contemplative gesture, “Hm, I admit I am a bit unsure in that regard.”

“Well, if ya ask me, the only other place we really have in the matter of alternative accommodations would be with those Malto’s.” Wheeljack contributed whilst still amidst his tinkering. An admittedly impressive feat. “Now I know it may seem a bit risky to let our con commander here ‘round the kids, but I’m sure we all know how capable they can be.”

“Oh, yes, perhaps some access to the outdoors could aid Starscream after being cooped up for so long. Like what I was telling you earlier, Megatron!” Optimus motioned to him with a flick of his antennae and a grin as if he alone had come to that revelation. Megatron couldn’t help but give a small, fond smile at the mech.

Prowler took in a long breath, oddly similar to Megatron’s own methods at stabilizing himself, and realigned his previously lost optics to be flat, and rather resigned. “I will trust your judgment.” Then he stood with a new pace of determination on his faceplate. “However, if we will indeed be proceeding with such a course of action, I will insist on precautionary measures.”

“I’d expect nothing less.” Optimus watched his tactician rummage through their supplies, with a newfound gleam of hope in his eyes. Then, he turned his attention to Megatron, “What do you think? Do you believe this approach could work?”

He hesitated a moment as he pondered over his words, “Well… the thought did come to my own mind, in passing. Starscream had shown some strange fondness towards the Terrans… at least Hashtag, to my knowledge. Despite what he had done. She had been able to bring out something within him once. I do not doubt it possible again.”

Optimus nodded and followed Megatron’s wandering gaze towards the seeker. Wheeljack had just about finished smoothing out the patch on the wing, and was now arranging to replace the cracked cockpit. Did repairs always take this long? 

“I will contact Bumblebee to get him up to speed on the new arrangement.” Optimus announced as he took to his peds and made his way towards the door.

“Hm, yes.” Megatron ceased his anxious tapping and stood to join him. “I will call Dorothy. She will no doubt have some grievances to be quelled about the idea.” 

The medbay door closed behind them, and they each took to their own spot in the hall to make their calls. Megatron placed a digit to his helm and sent the signal to Dorothy’s cell. His comm played a little rhythmic tune of sorts as he waited for a response. It was just as mundanely aggravating as the concept of elevator music. He should really disconnect that silly feature.

Finally, Dorothy’s voice came through with her signature greeting, “What’s up Megs?”

“Hello, Dorothy. There is something we must discuss as a result of a recent development. Regarding Starscream.” Megatron was relieved to hear his friend's voice, yet also knew just how precarious this conversion was bound to become.

“That right?” She of course quickly caught on to the anxious air. 

“Yes, he had tried to escape, and…it was quite the spectacle. He was just about ready to die before allowing himself to return to his cell. I admit, it was rather startling. So, we have come to the decision that perhaps time elsewhere could serve him better.” Megatron tapped his finger against the railing as he attempted to filter his thoughts, and prepare for her response to them. “Under the supervision of you and your family.”

“Really now? Are you honestly telling me that the best idea you’ve got, is to send that maniac here, around my kids? Megs…”

“I know…But I do believe your children to be the exact influence he needs. As it has been, his mental state has only seemed to worsen which only aids to increase the danger he poses. We can’t simply send him back to the brig where he just may as well do something foolish.”

“You’re worried about him.” They both remained quiet for a moment. He wasn’t sure if he could admit it, but she understood as she so often did. Dorothy sighed, obviously still unsure, but willing to relent nevertheless. “Okay. If you’re sure. I’ll discuss it with the rest of them. But you’ll have to promise me–that bot won’t ever be allowed to hurt any of my babies again. Got that? You have a plan, don’t you?”

“Yes. I promise.”

***

Everything ached. That wasn’t exactly new. Although the lingering pain in a peculiar corner in his spark was certainly…something.

Starscream groaned as his systems struggled to come back online with at the very least, adequately functional sensors. Sound was garbled like a horribly received connection that he needed to internally adjust until it could make any form of sense. When he tried to begin onlining his optics, it was revoltingly bright, and he had to once again filter through his settings to find something tolerable. 

Where was he? 

What had happened?

…Why couldn’t he move? 

A gripping fear suddenly strangled his spark as he realized that he couldn’t bring his servo to his faceplate, and his wings felt far too cramped as they were pressed against some constricting surface. 

Starscream pulled at the clamps holding him firmly in place. Not again. He was not going to be those humans’ robotics projects. He desperately cycled his optics to try and make sense of his surroundings. He could hear the steps and chaotic chatter of those vermin all around him. There was equipment beside him. What were they going to do this time? Whatever it was, he wasn’t going to lay there and take it. 

An oddly large shadow loomed over him with extending servos. Mandroid’s voice echoed in his audials, “Struggle all you like. But it will not change your fate.”

Starscream yanked painfully against the brace on his wrist until a burst of energy allowed him to break it and throw a punch at the offending silhouette. He wanted to shout some deserved obscenities at the pest, but his voice box wouldn’t work. When his fist connected with metal, he assumed he’d simply been blocked, which infuriated him. That fissure in his spark stabbed through his frame, and he began to shake ridiculously. What was that? Wait. His free servo was stuck again. And his digits were being individually bent in some odd pattern, for some reason.

Then, he started to hear a voice he hadn’t heard in quite some time, calling his designation. “--Scream, Starscream! Hey, c’mon, what’s goin’ on in that crazy processor of yours? Calm down will ya?” Wheeljack? Why was he here?

Starscream blinked. Something wasn’t right. He tried his best to steady his vents as he focused on the ridiculous sensation the mech insisted on inflicting on his servo. Eventually, he could finally make out the white, red, and green overseeing him. As well as a second pair of Autobots across the room. Prowl, and the Prime. 

Right. This was the Autobot base. Not G.H.O.S.T.'s.

Well that was embarrassing. 

Starscream’s wings twitched, as much as they could given his position. Wheeljack looked some type of determined. A reflexive response no doubt. Prowl looked a mix of surprised and appalled, it was actually quite hilarious– except that Prime’s stupid face ruined it. He didn’t need nor want that self-righteous mech’s pity. 

“Ya with us there Screamer?” Wheeljack asked more directly as he finally began to release Starscream’s servo. 

He stared at him, confused and a bit annoyed. Had he not already given them a response? What sort of question was that?

Ah, apparently it would seem as though his vocalizer was still on the fritz. Starscream raised a servo as indication that he needed a moment as he recalibrated his voice box. This was pathetic. 

When he only managed to sputter beeps and clicks, red sparks flared off him angrily a moment as he punched his chassis until the words could be forced out. Wheeljack chastised him for it, but frag him. “WHAT–” Starscream adjusted his volume– “What, is going on here?” Had they really brought him to their technician after he’d almost escaped? That seemed absurd. Perhaps they’d implanted a remote explosive somewhere in his frame.

“Well, I fixed ya up, added Prowl’s little boot, and those two got a deal for ya. Sorry ‘bout the restraints.” Wheeljack began to release him from the medberth. None of this was answering his question. “We weren’t sure if ya’d go immediately ballistic or somethin’ when ya woke up.”

Prowl crossed his arms. “I’d say we were certainly right to do so.”

As Starscream stood, he just about stumbled with a wave of disorientation, but skillfully used it to transition into a snarky servo to a tilted hip. “Of course.” He glared at them until he noticed how one of his peds felt heavier than it should, and lifted it to complain. “But what on Cybertron is this, for?” Then he remembered Wheeljack’s previous statement and straightened himself with an air of guarded curiosity. “And what is this about a deal?”

“That,” Prowl gestured to the ugly, boxy device attached to Starscream’s ped, “Is insurance. All you need to know, is that if you try anything with that power of yours, that device will render you imobile.”

“It tracks your sparkbeat, power surges, fun stuff like that.” Wheeljack listed on a pair of digits, which Prowl didn’t seem too happy about. “I promise it won’t blow up or nothin’!” Coming from this mech, such a promise hardly meant anything. 

“Yes, you have my utmost confidence, Wheeljack.” Starscream rolled his optics tiredly, then kicked his ped in a display of his distaste for the accessory. “It is entirely impractical. How do you expect me to transform with this blasted thing?!”

“Exactly.” Prowler crossed his arms with an expression void of any sympathy. Primus did his faceplate look punchable.

Starscream whined with a slight slump to his wings, before the Prime interjected himself to continue the dreadful conversation. “In regards to the deal, we have decided that you will no longer be staying in the brig.” Starscream perked at this, although couldn’t help but be skeptical. “Instead, you will stay with the Malto family.” 

That was not exactly what he was expecting. 

Starscream stared blankly at them a moment before remembering to speak, “...What will such an arrangement entail, exactly?” Surely it was some new scheme of theirs to pacify him. He didn’t trust it.

The Prime seemed oddly surprised by his response, then took a step forward, an action of which Starscream forced himself to not reactively back away from. “Well, given your obvious distress, we thought you’d benefit from the opportunity to have access to the outdoors. You could perhaps learn to appreciate what Earth has to offer. Observe how well a family made of transformers and humans can function. My hope, is that it could be your own path towards redemption alongside Megatron!”

Starscream’s faceplate scrunched in disgust at the mention of his former leader. “Redemption. Right.” Although the prospect of appreciating Earth would be laughable.

Prowler sent him a discrete glare with narrowed optics. The Prime only looked like a kicked cyberdog. Perhaps they were hoping he’d get on his knees to praise their ever expansive mercy. That he should thank them for such an offer. As if it even were one. This wasn’t a deal. It was an order. 

He in-vented steadily before preparing them a smile, and arranging a loose, confident posture as he strode towards them. “That sounds just wonderful.” He crooned in a disguised taunt as he slid by Prowl, then practically danced around the Prime. “I promise to be on my best behavior! I am truly honored that you all have decided to permit my grand exit from your lovely accommodations. Such a gracious act, that I will make certain not to let go to waste, I assure you!” Starscream led the way out of the medbay with the two bots trailing behind him. 

“You’d better not.” Prowl commented in a cute little threat as he split away from them. 

“What he means is,” The Prime began as he caught up by Starscream’s side, “This could be a very important step in us truly being able to trust you, Starscream. Which would in turn lead to the possibility of your true freedom, and permanent alliance with the Autobots, if you so choose.”

Starscream scrutinized the mech from the corner of his optic, and held his servos behind him professionally. If they actually wanted his alliship as the Prime proclaims, they would have accepted his offer back at the Titan. They’d only pulled this out of their afts now out of newly realized necessity, after the rather explosive display he’d given them. They didn’t care. They just wanted to control him. All it was is a new, creative way of containing him. They couldn’t con a con.

“Yes, I’m sure that is what he meant.” It was clear sarcasm, and yet he aligned his vocalizer to imitate pure sincerity. Well, as much as he could. 

The Prime actually looked a touch annoyed with partially lowered optical lids. How amusing. “I do urge you to take this seriously. You realize the risk involved in this.”

Starscream scoffed in half feigned offense with a servo to his chassis. “Of course I do. Do you take me for a fool?”

The Prime hesitated as if an affirmation of the rhetorical question floated just behind his intake. Rude. Regardless, they eventually came upon their first destination that consisted of a trailer, and those two Autobot femmes. That was foreboding.

“Ready when you are Optimus.” The one he recognized to be identified as Elita-1, reported stoically. 

With the uncomfortably upbeat Arcee adding, “So we’re really doing this? Y’know– you and I really should have a rematch sometime Screamer! You can’t pull a cheap shot on me twice!” She apparently saw it appropriate to approach him and throw her arm around his neck to pull his helm down close to hers. She prodded his chassis to emphasize her challenge, but the energy she exuded was beyond confusing. “I. Will. Destroy you.” There was a painful pause as her touch lingered. “But that's fun for another day!” Then she finally broke away from him to flip into her alt mode beside the trailer. 

Starscream hadn’t realized just how tense he had become until his wings flicked back into place and he chuckled anxiously. His blasted vocalizer cracked again. “Oh yes, fun! I– look forward to it…” He examined the situation before him and regarded the open trailer with contempt. Especially when the Prime began leading him towards it. “Is this–” He gestured to the metal box– “Really necessary? Surely we could simply walk-”

“Nope.” Elita-1 slapped a servo to his arm and yanked him down to be shoved inside. What was with these femmes in tossing him around! And who designed this blasted trailer! It was like being stuck in a fragging compactor.

“Apologies, Starscream, but without access to your alt form, this is the most efficient means of transportation.” The Prime said stupidly as the trailer was tilted to be adjusted onto his frame.

Starscream was sealed inside this absurdly small containment for obviously no more reason than their own amusement. His wings were pulled in tightly with mere centihics between him and the walls. There was absolutely no, fragging, way, to get comfortable in the slagging thing. The walls were too close. The most he could do was have one knee lifted halfway with one servo placed upon it while he leaned at an awkward slant so he didn’t ram his helm on the top. He felt stupid. It was too slagging cramped in this mistake of manufacturing.

Primus Starscream wished Skywarp and Novastorm had destroyed it when they’d had the chance. He was certainly going to make it his first act of justified pettiness on these Auto-glitches, to blow it into melting slag the nano-klick he got his missiles back.

[andromeda3116]

going back and rereading order of the stick from the beginning, and like. god, the first 250 comics or so are just. not good. they don't fully suck, but they are so generic. and so early-2000s. but once you get to azure city and start to get the lore, it's like.... okay. we might be onto something here. and then the battle for azure city starts and it's like... shit, we're definitely onto something here.

and then you get to don't split the party, and while it's got its weak points, you hit the soul splice arc with v, and it's like. holy fuck this is good. how the fuck. this was a gag-a-day comic strip about a dnd adventure, how did it come to this? the fact that that arc is all about how one of the good guys descends into madness -- using characteristics that were originally one-off jokes -- and ultimately ends up committing the most Evil act in the entire story, and it's completely in-character, and then has them reach the very bottom, hit their "what you are in the dark" moment, and go back, thus seeding the possibility of their redemption --

shit.

and then it only gets better from there. everything past don't split the party is phenomenal storytelling, world-building, and characterization, and we're coming up on the final battle, and i'm just like -- there are several shoes that are still waiting to drop, and i legitimately cannot tell how this is going to end. i mean, the oracle said that elan would have a happy ending, which means that the world isn't going to be destroyed, and he wouldn't be happy if he, haley, or roy died, so probably at least those three are going to make it, but beyond that...?

this started off as a mediocre early-aughts dnd-based stick-figure comic and turned into a legitimately incredible fantasy tale

shit, and this isn't even starting on redcloak, especially if you read the prequel story, start of darkness. like, he is the poster-child for the sunk-costs fallacy, but at this point, what will it take to convince him to turn on xykon? he loathes the lich, is using him for his own purposes, but he truly believes that he needs xykon to accomplish his goals. but the good guys need him to turn on xykon! they need him to join them, or else all of this is for nothing!

i feel weird recommending it to people because it's like. the first 250 or so comics are mediocre at best, but you can't skip them. early on, there's a lot of casual sexism and a lot of casual homophobia, as was normal at the time this was published. it starts off simplistic, making a lot of cheap dnd jokes. it doesn't start to get impressive until the army shows up at azure city around strip 415, but after that, it will start to blow your fucking socks off.

but you can't skip the first 400 strips! you have to read it from the start! and you'll read them going "is this really what you're recommending?" and i'm like YES!!!!!! just wait for it! the payoff is so fucking worth it!!!

[nebulablakemurphy]

Moves & Countermoves (Part 6)

Summary: No one ever wins the games, even fourteen years later, Y/N is still playing.

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Peeta is down by the river, camouflaged in the rocks after Cato slashed his leg and left him for dead.

“Ah ha ha,” Chaff smiles when he spots Haymitch with an entire pitcher of rum. “So this is how the Capitol treats it’s favorites.”

“Had to steal it off the cart.” Haymitch chuckles allowing his friend to slip in between him and Y/N.

“Steady now.” Y/N teases, a hand to his back until he’s seated.

Chaff knocks her shoulder with his own, “what’s the matter, baby?”

Y/N has nothing but love for her husband’s best friend. However they are two peas in a pod and when they get together…there goes all the liquor. Back home in twelve, Haymitch has been known to have a drink or two, still able to enjoy his wife and children. This place brings it all back, the horrible things he’s done, everything he failed to do. If he wasn’t drunk, he’d surely lose his mind.

“I wanna send Peeta medicine,” Y/N explains.

“Sponsors leaving you high and dry? Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Not the sponsors, Haymitch made him a deal.”

“Who am I to disrespect this poor boy’s dying wish?” Haymitch quirks a brow.

“And his wish is to-”

“No parachutes. Save Katniss.”

“Katniss,” Chaff drawls.

Two of their tributes have formed an alliance. Rue and Katniss hatching a plan to blow up the career’s stash; lightning fires to draw them away.

“This green stuff is gonna smoke like crazy, as soon as it’s lit, move on to the next one.” The girl on fire warns.

“Ok,” Rue agrees, “we need some kind of signal; in case one of us gets held up.”

“Like what?”

“Here, watch this.” Rue lets out a tiny melody, which the birds rings back.

“Mockingjays.” Katniss realizes, “that’s brilliant.”

“We use them back home to signal the time.” Rue says, shifting the backpack on her shoulder. “If we hear that, it means we’re ok and we’ll be back real soon.”

“We’re gonna be ok,” Katniss pulls her in for a hug, running a hand over her hair. “Hey, I’ll see you for supper.”

————————————————————————

For once in her life Y/N is grateful for the Capitol broadcasting the action only, in the viewing room. A split screen between Rue lighting the fires, the careers chasing smoke and Katniss making her way to the cornucopia.

Clove and the others leave a single boy behind to keep watch. As the red haired tribute from five lily pads around explosives to steal food, the watchman catches her in his peripheral. Taking off after her into the woods.

Katniss lines up her shot, missing the corner of the apple net by just a hair. She takes a step closer, a few calming breathes later the tip of her arrow pierces the bag and out tumble all of the apples.

She’s blown back by the force of it.

“Oooh,” Chaff winces.

After a moment Katniss gets her bearings, heading back to Rue.

The boy keeping watch pays the price, Cato snaps his neck before giving him a chance to explain.

Rue is well on her way to light the last fire when she hears the explosion. Katniss did it. Then the trap set by the careers falls, she tripped the wire, a weighted net.

“Shit.” Y/N covers her mouth. Katniss…please hurry.

“Come on, Rue,” Chaff says, under his breath. “Work your way out.” He coaches, as if she can hear him. She does try, just like he taught her, but the net is too heavy.

When Katniss finds the final fire unlit, she whistles their signal.

“Get her out.” Haymitch rocks back slightly in his seat.

“Get her out.”

“Get her out.

“Get her out!”

The people of the viewing room echo. Y/N turns her head as the room builds to a collective chant.

“Get her out. Get her out. Get her out.”

It isn’t unheard of for spectators to voice their call to action. Though they are more concerned with the entertainment value than the life of the child.

When Katniss gets no response, she races toward the pile of sticks and leaves meant to start the last fire. Still no Rue.

“Katniss! Katniss, help.” Rue calls from beneath the net.

Katniss cuts her loose, Rue safe in her arms. “I’m here, you’re safe.”

The viewing room cheers are short lived. Marvel sends his spear flying, only to be met with Katniss’ arrow. When the cameras pan back to Rue…the damage is clear and irreversible.

Y/N excuses herself. She cannot watch, she cannot pretend, she cannot breathe. Scrambling into the nearest private room with the curtains drawn. Pushing them back with little care before realizing that it is occupied.

“You look ill, dear.” The Capitol woman gasps. “Come, sit down.”

“I’m so sorry to barge in like this.” Y/N apologizes, it’s not anyone she knows.

“Never you mind that, the pleasure is mine. Let me get you a drink.” The woman begins waving down a waiter.

Y/N grabs the ice bucket, “can I throw up in here?” Doesn’t matter, it’s coming up.

“Oh my stars, you poor thing.” She fans the victor as best she can, while continuing to wave one hand out of the privacy curtain. “Must be something you ate.”

“What can I get for you?” The waiter asks.

“Some water, to start and a fresh ice bucket.”

“Yes, right away.”

The woman takes great pleasure in ‘nursing’ Y/N back to health. With water and something close to a bland cracker.

These people are not inherently bad, Y/N realized that years ago. Conditioned in their belief and out of touch, but they are not evil. I don’t hate them…I hate what they do.

It’s not long before Haymitch is tearing back curtains to find her. Letting out a sigh of relief when he does.

“Haymitch, what a pleasure.” The woman holds out a hand.

“Great to meet you, love the dress.” He kisses the top of her hand, using it to guide her toward the exit, “give us a minute, will you?”

“But of course.” The woman is awestruck. The victors of district twelve, in her private room! Hailing over everyone who is anyone. Mouthing, “they’re in there,” motioning toward the fabric that separates them.

“I need you to listen to me.” Haymitch whispers, kneeling in front of Y/N. Wiping away any remnants of vomit and tears.

Y/N nods.

“Katniss gave that little girl a proper send off, you know as well as I do, the gamemakers and Snow aren’t happy about it.” She created a martyr.

Again she nods.

“I’m gonna talk to Crane, see what I can do for damage control.” Keep Katniss alive.

“Ok." Don’t let them kill Katniss.

“We’re gonna get you a mint and then I need you to walk out of here like nothing is wrong. Can you do that?” He tips her chin up, holding her gaze.

There is worry in his eyes, guilt and sadness. Her husband is afraid and he needs her. “Yes.”

“Good,” Haymitch gives her a reassuring smile, taking her into his arms.

————————————————————————

Katniss receives a parachute of bread a while later. After the silence is louder than the cannons and the artificial sun has set.

Haymitch is still negotiating, Y/N figures he must’ve sent it. Until she sees the note attached, from district eleven.

Y/N makes her way over to Seeder, sitting alone in the opposite corner.

“It was for Rue,” she older woman explains before Y/N can get a word out. “My district spent days scrounging up the money, the sponsors finally came through. We had enough to send some for Thresh too.”

“You could’ve sent him both.”

“My people wanted Katniss to have it.” Seeder informs her.

“I know she…appreciates their generosity very much.”

The answer is dry, rehearsed. Y/N is young and still does not understand. “I knew a girl once, she was kind and brave. She played the games and never let them play her. For the first time, I thought there might not be a victor. Because she was lying there, bleeding out and her partner was there, bleeding out…nobody was killing anybody,” she pauses. “Haymitch had to fight like hell to get you out of that one, they wanted your family-”

Dead. “I know,” Y/N stares down at her hands.

“I saw something that day, and I see it in her.” Seeder motions toward Katniss on the screen. “A good, genuine person with heart. They tried to snuff it out of you, beat it out of you; but I still see you. You hold onto your heart and you never let anyone take it from you.”

“Thank you,” Y/N blinks back tears.

“Attention, tributes, attention. The previous rules allowing only a single victor have been…suspended. Two victors may be crowned, so long as they both originate from the same district.”

All hope is not lost.

Part 7

Series Taglist: @praline357 @flowercrowns-goodvibes @justheretoparty420 @avocadotoastwithegg @officialjellydoughnut @whoreforfictionalpeople @treehouse-mouse @emo-markie @spilled-mi1k @magical-spit @greaser9902 @jessicamellarky @yourebuckingkiddingme

[savemeafruitjuice]

Tickletober Day 17- Raspberries

This is a Rise fic! Maaaybe was self-induglent.. just a little. (It's just Leo being bullied, really)

@smiley-star Lee Leo :)

Lee: Leo

Ler: Mikey

TW!: SWEARING!

Leo bounced his leg on his bed, tapping his fingers on his arm. He had felt jittery today, like he had drank three cups of coffee, even though he had been forced to cut down after staying up for almost a full week straight sometime last month.

To be fair, Donnie did that all the time, but Raph just wouldn't let another brother with that degree of a bad sleep-schedule slide.

The blue-themed turtle sighed, instead tracing over the lines of his palm. The slightly tingly sensation calmed him down a bit, until that same feeling returned in his stomach. After a second, the slider realized what it was. A lee-mood.

The turtle groaned quietly, choosing to ignore it for the time being. Everyone was tired, having had a crazy run-in with some mutants last night, and no one would want to deal with whatever he wanted. It wasn't a priority.. it could wait..

"LEO!"

He flinched, body pausing before turning around on his bed to face the doorway. It was Mikey's voice, which was weird, considering the youngest would usually greet everyone at their own doors. "Yeah? What is it?" He listened for a response, but none came. "WHAT?!"

"COME HERE!"

Leo sighed, tightening the drawstring on his hoodie to hide his face, which was probably flushed from his newfound.. mood. He left his room, feet shuffling on the ground as he made his way to the source of the voice. Walking across the lair, he immediately paused at the entrance of his brother's room.

Mikey was sitting on the floor, arms crossed over his chest. Next to him was a paint splatter, covering the majority of what looked like the youngest's most recent artwork. "Aw, Mike.. your painting.. are you okay?"

The box turtle shook his head, pressing his arms harder around himself. "No! All day, no one has wanted to hang out, and was asleep for the entire morning! I had to eat breakfast by myself, so I went to paint to feel better, but then I spilled a bunch of stupid red everywhere!"

Frustrated tears were building up in the smaller's eyes. Leo quickly went to sit down next to him, holding his arms out to comfort him. Mikey sniffled, flopping into the elder's hold. "I'm so sorry, we didn't mean to leave you alone like that-"

"No.." the younger interrupted, resting his head on his brother's shoulder. "It's not any of your fault.. I'm just.. overwhelmed." Leo nodded, squeezing him into a hug. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Mikey nodded. "I just have a lot of energy built up.. could I.. uhm-" he paused, the elder nudging him to continue. "try tickling you..?"

The question was so quiet, Leo was almost convinced he had made it up, but the words rang clear in his mind. "Oh! Uh- sure, Mikey." A smile crept onto his face. It was weird how his lee-moods always seemed to sync up with his brothers, but that wasn't his concern right now.

Mikey smiled back, although it was a little shyer than the slider's. He hugged his brother tight, mumbling a "thanks" before reaches for his hips, latching onto them gently. "Just tell me if it's too much."

Leo squawked, arms jolting down, though he didn't push his little brother away. "DEHEheal!" The box turtle pinched at the joint for a few seconds, then carefully pushed on the taller's plastron to lay him down, sitting on his thighs. Mikey giggled, then rolled up the blue cloth of his hoodie. Leo only had a split second to realize what was going on, watching his brother's head lower, before being plunged into a fit of loud laughter. "HAHAHAH! AAHAH! MIKEHEY!"

"Whahat? I thought you agreed?" Mikey smiled, blowing another raspberry against his belly. "I can stop if you want." The slider bucked, whining at the offer. "NAHAH! Heheh, nohoHOHO! IHI-AHAH! IHIhit's SNRT- OHOHOKAHAay!"

The younger smiled. "Alright then, hang in there, Lee~" He took a deep breath, eyes gleaming mischievously at the anticipation on the elder's face.

Leo's eyes had squeezed shut, blushing at the nickname, only for them to shoot open wider than before at the horrible tickly feeling on the side of his ribs. "HAAAH AHAH! MIHIKEHEHEEEY, NOHOT THEHERE! HAHAHAHAHAH!" His arms shot out to push at the younger's head, but the other just pushed his hoodie higher up, taking his arms with it.

When Leo opened his eyes, he learned that the clothing article had been pushed over his face as well, and he was trapped in a sea of blue as Mikey blew raspberry after raspberry on his plastron. He kicked and squirmed, trying to sit up to stop the tickling, soon lost in his own laughter as his thighs were lightly scribbled on.

"FUHUHU-AHAH! SNRT- IHI CAHAHAN'T SEHEHEE! IHI-AAHAHAHAHAHAH! SNRT- NAHAHAH, PLEHAHAHA!"

The orange-themed turtle cooed, scooting down on his knees which effectively stopped the moving from those limbs. Instead, the slider's hips bucked, and he once again tried to pull his arms out of his sleeves, too overcome with ticklishness to escape.

"Y'know, I think I want to try something.. Of course, if you're willing." There were a couple seconds before the elder had processed the question, the turtle trying to suck in as much air as he could when the fingers at his legs stopped moving. "WHAHaha- SNRT- WhahaHAHat is ihit?.."

Mikey's grin was that of pure evil.

"Oh, I was just wondering how much a raspberry on your thigh would tickle.."

"Euhuhughhh bohohoy.."

-----

Errm I may end up doing a part two to this? Possibly later in the month, or maybe a fic later on. We'll see I guess. Have a great day!