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quetzalpapalotl · 1 year

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reverse hot take meme: tell me why I should care about Prowl?

I assume you’re talking about IDW1 Prowl. Truly I love him. I love how everyone is so passionate about him whether they love him or hate him. Mmm this was a fun ask and it got long, so under a cut it goes!

He seems like a good character to me, because I can always see where he’s coming from, even if he’s what we call an awful person. I think Prowl is the Phase 2 character with the most cohesion across his different writers. I know that may sound strange, Barber, Roche, and Roberts write him with a different flavor, yes, but I think they all have the same core understanding and just focus on different things according to their respective genres.

For example, JRo’s Prowl feels way pettier and more emotional than Barber’s, which fits with how Mtmte puts a lot of focus on interpersonal flaws. However, I’d argue Barber’s Prowl is just as petty, I mean *point to the whole ordeal with Spike on Earth* or like, he’s willing to let Caminus die so that Starscream doesn’t try to rule all the galaxy which while Starscream did wanted to control the Colonies, he would not start a war against the cosmos again, he knows better than that. Prowl’s motivations are influenced by the fact that he hates the Decepticons and he can’t let Starscream win, but he’s able to rationalize his actions so he can keep telling himself he’s entirely reasonable.

But you asked me to give you specifically reasons to care about him, so I will argue he’s a lot like Megatron (and oh, Prowl would flip a table if he heard me, that’s so fun):

Both Prowl and Megatron are people extremely Machiavellian and willing to do anything for their specific vision of the Greater Good and both are lacking in self awareness and won’t admit to their actual motivations or that their methods are antithetical to their supposed goals. There are both convinced they are the only one that can do what needs to be done. To Prowl’s credit, he’s far less vainglorious, while Prowl does want credit, he doesn’t need a whole cult to worship him. Prowl wants influence rather than power and unlike Megatron he doesn’t actually like violence. He’s actually quite disgusted by it, which is part of the reason he needs other people do it for him.

But both run on paranoia, spite and a need to be war. They both need the war to give them meaning. Again, to be fair to Prowl, I think he actually does genuinely want the vision he claims to want, but anything else will mean he was wrong and all the things he did was maybe not as justified so he has dug himself into a hole of keeping the war running until he gets his desired ending or his whole idea of himself falls apart. While Megatron will use this unrealistic vision to have an excuse to keep on fighting because fighting is what gives him meaning.

Okay yeah, they’re not exactly the same, but they do have neat parallels and you like Megatron, right?

Prowl feels deeply tragic to me, because while he was always kind of a prick, his pre-war self really did seem to operate on a belief that rules and order are good. He had a lot of ideas of the old Cybertron internalizes, yes, but he does attempt to make things better for everyone. He prevents Sentinel from eradicating the Decepticons, he tries to stand against corruption, tries to keep Orion in check. Yet everything still goes to hell, so he sort of goes “fine, if everyone is going to make compromises I will too, except I will do the right ones because I can tell what they are” and now he’s trapped in a cage of his own doing and he’s aware of it but too deep in his own head to change even when he wants to. There’s some delicious irony because more than anything Prowl wants to be understood, but he won’t value anyone’s input over his own.

He's interesting, there's a lot to chew about him. He's a good character. This is fiction so I think that more important than anything else you can say about him. Thinking about Prowl is endlessly entertaining, he's so full of pathos and irony.

Also fun fact: he's Barber's favorite character dasfhgjsa, I believe that, Barber has such fun playing with him. I think JRo also mentioned him being a favorite at some point(?)

#be grateful i skipped the comparison between eugenesis and idw1 prowl #quetzal rambles tf

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threadsun · 1 year

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Anonymous Asks: "hello how are you?, good night!, I just wanted to ask for a small request (if you still do for everyone, if not the ones you choose from SDJ), a few headcanon from your past request of them as supernatural creatures?"

Oh yes!! I loved writing this one~

Content: brief implications of eating humans

Jean - Siren:

While his singing voice is obviously magical, he also has the ability to persuade people just by speaking. It’s something he can choose to do, though when he’s very emotional it can come out by accident

His teeth are… very sharp. Like “made to tear through flesh” sharp

He has wings. They’re soft and it’s easy to hurt them, so he won’t show you unless he really trusts you. It’s a big sign of love if he lets you touch them

If you want to make him melt immediately, just gently pet the feathers right where his wings meet his back

When he gets flustered or frustrated, his wings ruffle up and he squawks a little bit. Don’t mention it because it’ll only make him more agitated

He’s very musical, and not just with his voice. He has a knack for picking up just about any instrument and knowing how to play it

He can pretty much get whatever he wants in life just by asking, so being in his good books is very useful

He’s used to people trying to get close to him so they can use his powers, so he’s pretty wary of new people. You’ll have to prove your pure intentions to get close to him

Preening is one of the ways he shows his affection. If he likes you, he’ll fuss with your hair a lot

He always has the faint smell of an ocean breeze around him

Joseph - Werewolf:

If you think his human form is big and hairy… you should see his wolf form. He’s twice the size of a normal human, all muscle and fur and claws and teeth

His growl is so deep and guttural that it strikes fear into the hearts of even the bravest people

But really, he’s just a big dopey puppy!

All he wants in life is scritches behind the ear, tummy rubs, and maybe someone to play fetch with

His instincts can make him very possessive and territorial. If he’s claimed someone or something as his own, he’ll kill anyone who tries to take them from him

He can be kinda clumsy sometimes, it’s really cute to see this giant wolf-man trip over his own paws when chasing something

He does the whole angsty “you should chain me up, who knows what I’ll do when I turn?” thing, but then he just spends the whole full moon digging holes in the park

Werewolf cock. Do I need to say any more?

He’s like the biggest, warmest, fluffiest couch ever when he lays on his side in wolf form

His tail doesn’t lie, even when he does. You can always tell how he’s feeling because it’s so expressive

Shaun - Vampire:

No one knows how old he is. He makes up a new answer every time he’s asked. He’s actually only a few decades old, he’s just too embarrassed to say that to people

It took him a few years to adjust to the fangs. For a little while he had a slight speech impediment because of them

He still loves cheesy vampire horror movies, but now he finds them even more entertaining. He absolutely does the whole “I vant to suck your blood!” thing

He’s a smart man. He knows there’s plenty of people who want to get their blood sucked by a vampire. So he can get his fill consensually

He fully leans into the vampire aesthetic. Everything he owns is dramatic and old fashioned and bat themed

He’ll make whatever the vampire equivalent of dad jokes is. All. The. Time. Just an endless stream of awful vampire puns that make you groan

Different vampires can turn into different things. He can turn into mist, and he’s endlessly disappointed that he didn’t get the ability to turn into a cat

He’s got a bit of a neck obsession. And a thing for biting

If he really likes you and trusts you not to be freaked out by it, he’ll talk about how sweet your blood smells

He’s very careful about not turning people by accident. But if he really loves you and you want to be turned then he’ll make it a very romantic experience

Ian - Dragon:

He’s got the cutest pink-orange scales up his neck and across his back and stomach and hips and thighs. He’s very embarrassed about them

His tail is quite small, as are his wings. They aren’t useful for anything, and that’s also a major source of embarrassment for him. He’s very vain, please don’t make fun of him

His teeth are just pointy enough to be noticeable if you’re looking closely at him

He gets very possessive and also defensive about his hoards. Mostly he hoards manga and various other nerdy things, and don’t you dare look at them he will hiss and flap his wings and get very annoyed

When he cares about someone, they become part of his hoard. He’ll curl around them for comfort and try to scare other people away from them

The further he gets from his home and hoard, the more nervous he gets. He gets really bad social anxiety because of it

Sometimes when he sneezes, a little fire comes out

He likes his meat very very rare

If you scratch his scales gently, he’ll absolutely melt. They’re always kinda itchy, so it feels really nice when you do

He runs really hot. Like… fire-hot. It makes him great to cuddle in bed on a cold night, he’ll instantly warm you up!

Nick - Sylph:

He’s taller and stronger than the average human. He’s also a being of air, making him weak to fire, water, and earth

He loves heights, but he’s afraid of fire and water and has very bad claustrophobia

He can turn invisible at will. This makes it easy for him to go wherever he wants without being seen

He enjoys feeding your vanity. Compliments, admiration, generally encouraging you towards self-love and possibly an inflated ego

He’s large, but very light. He can walk on air like it’s land, and he enjoys floating around you when he’s spending time with you

If he really takes a shine to you, he might take you into the air with him. It’s incredible, he’ll hold you and you’ll feel like you’re flying

He can turn into clouds or light at will, so you never need a flashlight with him around!

He can get very protective when he cares about people

He can control the air temperatures around him

He’s quite vain himself, so compliments are one of the best ways to get to him

Jack - Faerie:

He’s not the tiny little dainty winged fairy a lot of people might imagine, he’s a faerie

He looks like a regular human, there’s only the smallest differences that make it clear that he isn’t. He’s got a few too many teeth and not quite enough fingers and toes

He’s actually quite pleasant. He doesn’t want to lead you into ruin or anything like that, he just wants you to take care of yourself! He wants to teach you selfcare

The thing is, he can’t lie outright. He cannot say something untrue with the intention of making someone genuinely believe it’s true. He can joke, but he can’t lie

But, uh… nothing is stopping him from misleading people. From saying things that lead them to their own incorrect conclusions. He can and will do that to get what he wants

He’s very unassuming, with his bright smiles and cheerful demeanour! No one would ever suspect him of manipulating them

If he takes a shine to you, he’ll do everything in his power to keep you by his side. He’ll try to convince you to stay with him forever

He’s got all sorts of little tricks up his sleeve

Be wary about taking food from him…

His word is his bond. If he makes you a promise, then he’ll do anything in his power to keep it

#swwsdj #something's wrong with sunny day jack #sdj jean #sdj joseph #sdj shaun #sdj ian #sdj nick #sdj jack #sdj headcanons #18+ only #sunshine

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witchysethharper · 3 months

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Fall From Grace || Self-Para

Seth's hunted by hellhounds and has his soul sent to hell.

Trigger Warnings: death

Seth made a lot of mistakes tonight. His first one being that he didn't plan well and absolutely had to get dog food for Circe this evening so she had breakfast tomorrow morning. That was absolutely his bad procrastinating on it and convincing himself he had enough for the week until he looked in the near empty bag. Tonight also happened to be early on in heat week and nearing a full moon. Whatever, right? He'd drive down to Krovs Town, get the food, and then drive back up. Town ought to be quiet this evening with many of the residents tucked in and entertaining themselves with a partner in heat. What could possibly go wrong?

The menacing growl that reached his ears sent a chill up his spine. He froze in place, grip tightening on the opened door of his trunk where he'd just packed up Circe's food. What little noise on Market Square faded away underneath Seth's heart thundering in his ears.

He didn't think about the hellhounds. Or that today –– right fucking now –– his time would be up.

It wasn't like Seth hadn't been seeing these hell beasts day and night for the last month or so but this... this felt different. The chime of the town clock striking the nighttime hour cut through the moment of silence with an ominous, booming chime augmenting the cold dread settling in his bones.

He slowly and carefully shut the trunk of his car before turning around. The few random pedestrians and drivers running some last minute errands didn't see what Seth did –– three massive, monstrous black dogs with glowing red eyes and dripping maws right there in the middle of the street. Each of them haunched and prowling towards the young witch that was their prey. No one else heard the low snarling of the hungry beasts that didn't disappear after Seth shut his eyes and opened them again. They wouldn't until they finished their hunt.

Seth did the first thing he could think of once he momentarily regained control of himself –– he bolted. Charged down the sidewalk passed confused citizens that went about their evening once he was out of sight. He thought he'd come to terms with this, mentally prepared for this moment to inevitably happen no matter whether he ran or stayed still, and yet he kept running as fast as he could down the barely lit street. It didn't matter how fast he was, the hounds were faster, and one managed to clip him across the back with claws. Seth needed distance –– just enough so he could make a phone call –– so he teleported himself as far down Oymyakon Street as he could and slowed to a power walk while he pulled out his phone and dialed the very first person he could think of.

"C'mon, pick up, pickup, pickup," he muttered, frosty mist leaving his mouth as the phone continued ringing what felt like endlessly. A little spark of hope fluttered in his chest hearing Shade's voice before realizing it was just the cambion's voice mail message. Truthfully Seth didn't know if this was better or worse, wanting to actually talk to Shade one last time but also not wanting this to be their last conversation. He didn't plan on this happening now so he was unprepared once the beep signaled him to start his last words to his best friend.

"Uh... fuck. Okay. Hey. Hi. Hey, Dempsey, hey. It's Seth, um..." He slowed down his pace a bit so he could talk more than breathe heavily into the phone. Silence. The hounds hadn't caught up to him yet but he knew they would. He maybe had a few minutes. "Fuck, it's fucking cold out. Anyway, uh, I'm not sure what you're, like, doing right now or whatever but I wanted to let you know... that... it's, uh... time. Got the hellhounds on my ass and motherfucking..." He clenched his fist and grimaced as he remembered why he'd come out here in the first place. "Fuck, sorry, I, uh, I left my car in Market Square outside the pet store. Had to get Circe food so she doesn't starve. It's in my trunk if you could somehow get that up to her tonight or tomorrow morning, please." He turned into an empty alleyway, knowing that he couldn't outrun this moment. Eventually those hounds would track him down and tear him apart and it'd more than likely be painful as fuck.

"But, um, that's not why I was calling. I just... I wanted to hear... your voice one last time, and..." He choked on the words now as his eyes and throat burned as he reached the brick wall end, hearing those dogs howling not too far away from where they'd picked up Seth's scent again. "I wanted to say thank you for... everything. For helping me with car shit and cooking and making me laugh and putting up with me in general for all these years. And for trying to help save my soul in the first place. I'm just... really fucking glad to have met you and had you in my life, everything good and bad and in between with us. And..." Seth looked up now, seeing the hounds approaching him through the blur of brimming tears that threatened to spill. He rushed his ending, not at all wanting the last thing on Shade's inbox to feature the sounds of him getting mauled. "Fuck. Okay. Gotta go. Take care of yourself, a'ight? L-Love you."

His hand shook as he hung up and this time the beasts didn't leave him any time to process his fate. He was cornered and they struck one by one, the first one lunging at Seth so hard he bounced back against the brick wall before hitting the ground. His glasses knocked off his face and fell beside him, one of the lenses cracked from the impact. Claws and teeth tore into him, breaking through his winter layers and muscle and bone. Blood sprayed over the bricks and concrete and Seth cried out, falling still on the cold ground pooled in his blood. Darkness swarmed his vision as he drew his last breaths.

Then everything went silent before the roar of hellfire enveloped him.

#p: fall from grace #self para #death tw

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kirby-universe-4162 · 22 days

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The Vigilante Squad - The Hero Sigils - Chapter 1

Taranza was a responsible king. After the death of his best friend, Queen Sectonia, and the birth of the blooming DreamStalk, he was the only one able to step up properly as King. His duties were enough to distract himself from his grief-filled mind. He kept himself busy– especially with the princess involved.

Gaiakon, The Leafan Princess, was formed after Haltmann’s takeover. With her bravery, she was able to save Planet Popstar out of the clutches of Haltmann’s Access Ark– or this is what her people, the leafans, chose to believe. She knew she had no part in saving Popstar, though her efforts in doing so were real– since she used to be a leafan herself. Stealing the helmet that controlled Star Dream, she wished to strengthen herself to be able to fight back, sadly she didn’t wear it long enough. Only her physical form was altered, not her powers. She tries to make it up to the leafans every day by being the protector of both Floralia and Green Greens. To date, she’s been educated by Taranza to become a proper princess, and she was very close friends with Magolor.

Magolor had kept his secrets close and his weapons closer. He prefers to be called Hunter, knowing very well about the multiple universes and the different timelines of their own. Ever since he fought his own MistleTree Crown, he knew far too much about the dangers of the Master Crown to follow his dream of building this silly theme park as a kid– how could he now, knowing that he’s simply one of the few that survived while many others fell? He could have died over and over again, suffering endlessly under the Master Crown’s wrath; however, his mind was strong enough. ...Perhaps some poor souls weren’t so lucky.

He continued his new career as the Crown Hunter until he met one who didn’t harbor any malicious intent. It wasn’t like the rest of the “Crowned Souls”, instead of fighting a mindless shell full of hatred and destruction, it was a gentle one with its own mind and feelings, cowering at Hunter��s presence, so he spared it for now.

Nowadays, he relies on his close friend and former business partner Taranza, hired as the head bodyguard for both the king and Gaiakon.

Thanks to their efforts the cruelly bejeweled prison the Sky People were oppressed in, was restored to prosperity, thanks to Kirby, the darling hero of the cosmos, Dedede the King of Popstar, and Taranza himself. The land was known for the pure light of the Sunstones and the beautiful petals of the Miracle Stalk and thanks to the Princess, they were able to bring great joy to others and entertainment for all.

Until that one fateful day…

One day, Taranza accompanied Gaiakon just outside the Lor Starcutter, inches away from the exit of Floralia. “Hunter, are you ready to escort the princess to Popstar again?” Taranza asked hastily, “The Princess wants to visit her home very soon.”

Gaiakon hopped a bit, face beaming, eyes lighting up with happiness.

“Don’t rush me,” Hunter scolded, “I’m almost done; I just need to finish packing, and I’ll be able to let her on board.”

Hunter was nervous, though he had no right to be. He knew Gaiakon wanted to see her people and friends again as usual. Her being gone for months on end would be upsetting at best for the citizens of Floralia, but spring was coming, and they knew better than to throw a fit over the young princess. ‘Autumn was just around the corner.’ they would tell themselves.

Oh how wrong they were.

The journey down to Popstar on the Lor was smooth and quick. The planet was beautiful– especially Dreamland, Hunter always enjoyed his time there the most, and visiting Kirby was always a delight. As he dropped off the princess he didn’t take long to visit the Pink Puffball. Fish with him, racing him in tracks, and of course: plotting pranks. For the first time in a while, the sad song that played in his head swapped with a joyful one, and all it took was a bright smile from a childish pink puffball. He believed in the depths of his soul that no matter how rough things were, his best friend was always there to make sure he was okay.

Oh how wrong he was.

The Princess’s people, the leafans– were always excited to see her. Their population grew without her, causing her to count more and more. She spoke her native tongue, teaching him words and commands in case they caused trouble and she needed to speak the common language. She played with them, she cuddled them, she pruned them, and made sure they were safe. Despite her yearning to become the hero they believed she was, she finally trusted herself to accept the fact that she was in fact someone to look up to. Because of her guidance, she indeed was at ease, assuming that they could take care of themselves.

Oh how wrong she was.

As if a sheet of fabric was torn, they were stripped away by what those two loved the most. Void Termina was born, and it was only a matter of time before they discovered Planet Popstar and the beautiful Miracle Stalk was challenged. Despite the tools that were given, Popstar had little chance to survive against the aggression of Dark Matter. For the first time in a long time, they finally grew clever. Kirby was the first to get taken away, and as his loyal allies tried to get him back, they fell as well.

Without the King along with his most devoted subject, their valiant and loyal knight, and their kind hero, chaos and destruction struck like lightning, and despite Hunter’s heart shattering while he watched his dearest friend getting snatched away from him, he had to wipe his tears and find the Princess, and leave with the Lor as swiftly as he could. Somehow, Floralia was still above them, but– how? The Sunstone. Darkness can’t handle light embedded with positive matter, and as such Floralia was guarded thanks to Taranza’s eight watchful eyes and the brilliant light of the Sunstone. So be it. They needed to hide there.

Despite Hunter’s best efforts, he was only able to save the Princess, two of her little subjects, and a few dozen waddle dees. Hunter, Gaiakon, and her two scared leafans were the only known survivors to escape the falling Planet Popstar. Once the gargantuan stalk was about to fall, they saw the rings of Popstar shatter like glass. Only for the darling plant to muscle through and hold itself together. Was it the raw strength or something else keeping it together? No one knew for sure, and it hardly mattered, they were safe.

How many survivors were they able to find once the smoke cleared up?

Hopefully many. Hopefully many.

Was it even possible to find and save Kirby and his closest allies?

Hopefully so. Hopefully so.

#kirby #kirby oc #gaiakon #magolor #taranza #kirby au #taranza x oc #dark taranza #majaway #dark taranza x oc

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lxlxthh · 2 years

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brainhot of the day: nanami kento

tw/cw: overtime, misogynist!supervisor (idk if appears), abuse of power, alcohol, profanity.

ceo!nanami x fem!reader/scretary

wc: none

nanami doesn’t know what’s happening in his company until someone tells him over drinks appetizers.

today is like any other for (y/n), clocking in the right time but getting out after hours of overtime. the supervisor of her department has the habit of putting her overtime.

a week turned into 2, which turned into 3 and then turned into 3 months. she lost birthdays, dates, nights out with friends just because of that.

the reason she won’t stop working? money. they pay her so fucking good just to work as a secretary for an asshole supervisor.

and just like any other friday night of overtime, (y/n) finally clocks out and as she walks down the dark street she go into her favorite bar which it was already common for her to be there on fridays.

(y/n) almost could remember the familiar faces and just as her luck there is always a empty seat at the end of the counter. “one shot and dry martini, please.” she orders. still in her formal attire, she puts her bag and blazer hanging on the chair.

(y/n) could feel someone gazing next to her by the corner of his eye. she takes a glance around the place, disguising her sight, she could see he didn’t want to be there with his friend who is flirting endlessly with the girl on his lap. “here miss” the bartender says, (y/n) mumbles ‘thank you’ loud enough for him to hear, he also gives her the shot alongside a small plate with the lemon and salt, (y/n) dips the salt in the lemon she had squeezed and puts the misture around the shot. as she’s waited for 13 hours she drinks the shot as if it was the best thing she did in her life and she smiles while scrolling the social media.

“so what does a beautiful lady like you is doing on a place like this?” the blonde man asks her and (y/n) turns to face him, that gave her a chance to scan him. ‘handsome, looks rich, big body…” that’s what she thought.

“if you want to fuck, then i apologize. you could be my coworker for all i care but i don’t wish to get fired even though i hate my supervisor.” (y/n) beams as she drinks her martini.

“fair enough.”

“nonetheless, thank you for the compliment.”

he nods but he faces her fully when he hears his friend kissing the girl. “may I ask why do you hate your supervisor?”

(y/n) scoffs “the story is not only a bit long but also boring, i hope i can entertain you.”

“i know you can better than this idiot behind me.” he points to his back with his thumb and that sole action made her chuckle.

“as you wish, but first what’s your name?”

“nanami kento, yours?”

“(l/n) (y/n), should we order some peanuts?”

“the story must be interesting…”

“you’re gonna judge.” just like she said, (y/n) begins to tell the story ever since she started working at the company and nanami understanding her complains he asks.

“are you the only one having the problem?”

“i don’t think so, one of my coworkers had his an appointment to go and my supervisor didn’t let him clock a bit earlier since he had already came early.”

“i see… where do you work again? i don’t know if i asked you.”

“oh no, but i also didn’t tell you, i’m sorry. it’s called JJK Enterprise.” nanami was stunned, how could a problem like this happen under his own nose unaware.

“have you ever thought telling your boss?” nanami asks curious as for why no one had told him.

“i did but i heard he has a full schedule, besides he hasn’t been back to the company for bout 3 months, i think he went make contracts with other companies abroad.” that’s true, nanami was indeed away for business purposes.

“what’s the name of your supervisor?” he asks almost gritting his teeth but he clenches his cup of beer. “we’re you also working overtime today?”

she nods and tell the supervisor’s name.

nanami knew she was telling the truth by the tired look on (y/n)’s face and her attire was indeed perfect for her job.

she doesn’t ask anything about him but his age, his job, where did he came from, nothing much as she thought she was never going to see him again.

WRONG. she was very wrong.

monday comes again and as always she clocks in to start working. it didn’t last 20 minutes when someone called her to meet THE boss.

and it was no other than nanami kento. the hot and rich guy with big body.

they both greet each other with a ‘good morning’ but both stood in silence as no one knows what to speak first. does he apologize for hiding? does she apologize for not fucking her boss as she feels she went against his order? none one them knows, but since she doesn’t like the silence they’ve been doing for a long time she speaks laughing:

“at least my job is safe.” it didn’t took a second for nanami also start to laugh.

“i wouldn’t have fired you just because we fucked.”

in defense (y/n) throw her hands in the air by saying “you’re the boss, you make the rules.”

nanami proceeds to speak but suddenly stops, “i forgot what i was about to say.”

“did my beauty made you speechless?” (y/n) quickly shuts her mouth with her hands and nanami starts to laugh again. “oh my god, you’re my boss. i can’t flirt with you. i’m so sorry.”

“it’s ok, but soon you’ll be my /personal/ secretary i also fired the supervisor, you may have today and the next as your days off and start working the day after tomorrow…”

before you could say anything, nanami holds your jaw with his left hand making you turn your face to face him.

“and be ready tonight, i’m going to take you out to eat in a nice restaurant and then you may thank me later.”

#jujutsu kaisen fic #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #jjk sfw #nanami x y/n #kento nanami #nanami fluff #nanami sfw #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen sfw #nanami flirt

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fairestwriting · 3 years

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Hello! I was wondering if you could do headcanons for diasomnia (separate) dating Jade and Floyd’s little sister? Thanks for reading and have a good day!

so like a contest on who can be the most insane, your brothers or your boyfriend

+ ko-fi link, if anyone feels like financially supporting my writing

Malleus Draconia

They seem happy for you when you break the news, full of pride. Floyd puts an arm around your shoulders, look at you, his little sister about to be queen! Jade congratulates you on your relationship, but following it with a warning that it might attract unwanted attention, because of your boyfriend's status...

Things start feeling strange soon though. They make sure to let you know they're both excited to have Malleus over and... get to know him. What, why are you looking at them like that? They mean it! They won't do anything bad, they promise!

When Malleus is over it's... god it sure is. The twins aren't one bit afraid of him, and he's not one bit afraid of them, their terrifying auras just condense into something weird. At least it's mutually entertaining.

Jade serves dinner and Floyd circles around Malleus, bombarding him with questions. He's like a child at a recently-opened amusment park, never really seeing a dragon fae like Malleus in real life. Jade scolds him when he gleefully asks if he's ever burned someone when breathing fire, but just for the crudeness in his tone -- He's actually curious about it too.

Malleus will be pretty amused by everything? It almost feels like a normal, lively dinner. He doesn't mind all of the questions, it's refreshing to see people that just don't fear him at all. But, even then... you just have this bad feeling that won't leave. Like if the situation called for it, the three of them would break into an all out fight, ruining your entire home in the process...

When Malleus is gone, Floyd praises you for having such a fun boyfriend, patting you on the head while Jade nods along, agreeing that everyone had a wonderful time tonight, and he was welcome to come back whenever he wanted.

So, it actually went really well, you sigh to yourself in relief, glad none of your worries about the situation actually came to be. You thought Jade and Floyd might get overprotective, threatening Malleus in a million different ways--

Then, as Floyd rambles about how much fun he had, you hear him insert in a comment about how he wanted to see how long Malleus would last if he tried to squeeze him, and you think that maybe this didn't o as perfectly as it seemed.

Well, it was still pretty good, either way -- They’ll pester Malleus with questions everytime he comes over, though, and you might not get any alone time at all.

Lilia Vanrouge

You break the news, your brothers immediately look at you like they'd bitten into a lime. Displeased, strained expressions.

They know Lilia, he's powerful and a vice dorm leader, the sort of person Azul would want them to keep tabs on, so they had followed him around a couple times... and what they think about Lilia is, well, that he's like when you bite into a piece of candy and taste something bitter and savoury instead. There's just something so wrong about him. His smell is all off.

Floyd whines about it. Why pick Lilia? He's so weird, and not even the fun kind! He looks just like defenseless prey and yet he's not, that's just disturbing to him. Jade places a hand on his shoulder, adding that he should give their sister's boyfriend a chance, if she's chosen him then there's definitely some sort of... appeal to him that they hadn't seen yet. Well, that's what he says, but you can tell his smile looks plastic. You're immediately exasperated.

Lilia's arrival isn't really met with a warm welcome. It's you and Jade at the door, him visibly faking the politeness as he leads your boyfriend into your home, and Floyd stays in his room, refusing to come out until the food was ready.

Jade and Lilia's initial conversation is uncomfortable. Just small talk and polished greetings, and yet you can tell Jade is at his wits’ end talking to him. Why does Lilia bother your brothers so much? Even them can’t fully understand it, honestly.

Things lighten up when you’re eating, Floyd comes along and while he’s glaring at Lilia, who you know is deliberately acting oblivious, the whole time, Jade’s food is very good, and he’s still curious about the fae even if Lilia makes him uncomfortable, so conversation flows a little better.

When it’s time for Lilia to go, they both exhale heavily -- And looking straight into your eyes, tell you to never bring this guy over again. Date him if you want, just don’t... let him set foot into your home when they’re there.

Silver

Silver? As in the guy from Diasomnia they care the least about? Okay, sure, but like, why?

Jade feels neutral about it, if only a little disappointed. Floyd will complain about him looking so boring, what the hell do you even see in this guy? He just doesn’t look too fun to mess with, and that was the main thing they were looking forward to when you started dating someone.

Floyd tells you to get a cooler boyfriend, while Jade shrugs and says you’re welcome to bring him over anytime, if you wanted. Emphasis on if you wanted, he doesn’t particularly feel like interacting with Silver either.

You have a very normal dinner when Silver comes over. Floyd asks him some crude questions about how it’s like to serve Malleus, Jade serves dinner and asks about your relationship, how you met and such.

If he happens to fall sleep, Floyd is going to doodle on his face like they’re kids at a sleepover. And Jade will just watch, grinning as he fake-complains about how he shouldn’t treat their dear sister’s boyfriend like this.

After the introduction dinner, you ask them what they thought about Silver, and you receive a double shrug. They don’t really feel any particular way about him. He’s just some guy. Not worthy of much attention in that he isn’t someone they feel like they have to protect you from, and isn’t that fun to mess around with.

They check up on you every now and then when Silver comes over, but they don’t care if you leave the door closed. If you do, Floyd is going to barge in anyway, and linger around to get under your skin.

Sebek Zigvolt

I feel so bad for Sebek dear god.

So he knows you’re a Leech, right? He was likely aware of the risk that came with dating you, especially if you two wanted to be serious about it, he’d have to talk to your absolutely fucking terrifying family at one point. He’s willing to do that for his lady, of course!

Doesn’t mean it’ll be fun for him, though.

When you tell Jade and Floyd you’d been dating Sebek, they’ll grin wide -- Now that’s a fun Diasomnia member. They’re gonna make his life a living hell.

Sebek will come into your house with the mindset that he needs to do this properly, just the way he approaches everything else, but even he feels a heavy dread settling over his chest when he’s being greeted by the visibly excited, grinning twins.

They have a kind of good cop, bad cop scheme going on when Sebek is there. Floyd will pester him until he’s about to explode, asking questions at the pace of a machine gun -- Mostly rude ones about Malleus -- to see his reaction, while Jade lightly scolds him, smirking and doing nothing about.

They somehow find out that Sebek doesn’t like bitter flavors, and get together to make their dish as bitter as their and your palates can stand, then tease him endlessly about visibly not liking it.

They just... turn your boyfriend into a whole toy. You can ask them to stop all you want, but they won’t do it.

It’s just a mess. If you take him to your room, one of them is gonna stand by the door and tease you about how they won’t let you keep the door closed yet, what if Sebek isn’t as serious about chivalry as he seems to be? You never know!

Needless to say, they do like Sebek. Just... in the way that a cat likes toying with a mouse before it kills it. Jade tells you eagerly about how he’d love to have Sebek over again when he’s gone.

Don’t humor him. They will not grow out of bullying your boyfriend, he’s too earnest for his own good.

#twst #twisted wonderland #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #twst headcanons #twst imagines #twst x reader #malleus draconia #lilia vanrouge #silver twst #sebek zigvolt #malleus draconia x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #silver x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #lis writing

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my-writings-and-musings · 3 years

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Can I please have a short story of the prompt of the human reader being used as a sheild, and the human has a communicator allowing the bots to trace their signal? And can I please have ratchet, tailgate, cyclones, and drift for this?

I have headcannons for now because I'm spread really thin lately, but I hope you like it! Also I love this prompt in particular because every bot on the ship needs to be told how special and wonderful they are, and what better way to show them than by shouting their praises at an enemy with ample swearing?

Part One: Here!

Part Two: You're Here!

Ratchet

·Your relationship to the medic had allowed some of the restraint he needed for his high stress job to rub off on you, but that's also true of his testiness, so when you reach your breaking point it's quite the sight. The bot that kidnapped you for a ransom learns the loud way just how passionately you adore your grumpy bot when they crack another joke about Ratchet's age and you simply lose it. Held back by your chains, you crack that the bot who kidnapped you couldn't accomplish what Ratchet has if they had a billion years to do so, and what right do they have to insult when they look the way they do? "Call him old all you want, he looks better now than you ever have and ever will!"

·Perhaps it's the fact that the tiny human just insulted their appearance of all things, but the bot is frozen at the communicator, and somehow that makes you angrier. It's clearer to you now than ever before why Ratchet hurls wrenches at the bots that annoy him; nothing would be more satisfying than the "thunk" of a well aimed projectile at this jerk's head. As it stands you're willing to settle for using your words as the only weapons you have. Laughing bitterly, you ask your captor if they're only able to win an argument with bots that can't fight back, which would explain why they need you as a shield AND the corpses they keep as company. The last dig actually gets them moving towards you with a threat, but when they refer to Ratchet as your "rusty old paramour" you get a renewed burst of rage and go off once more.

·"Are you seriously trying to insult Ratchet of all bots?! Do you have any idea what he's capable of?! How many lives he's saved?! What have you accomplished lately, huh?! Besides EXTORTION?!" Feeling a tad bit flushed, it's impossible not to go all out in your tirade, especially because it feels so darn good after suffering in silence for so long. It doesn't hurt that you have so much material to work with either. This raging jerk is living in a corpse filled lair and kidnapping humans to ransom them off for cash, and they're going after one of the greatest medics the Autobots ever had? Cutting them down to size should be classified as doing the universe a favor! If you weren't so incredibly frustrated, and dangling from chains, you might have found this enjoyable.

·"Seriously! Ratchet does more good for the universe in a week than you could do in a lifetime! Plus, you think age is holding him back?! The bot walks right off the battlefield after carving up bad guys like you, only to waltz into the medibay to patch up everyone else, on a daily basis!" Though not impressed, it does appear that your captor is rethinking some things, and perhaps actually realizing they've made a pretty formidable enemy. Had that not been such a flagrantly obvious fact you'd have been satisfied. Instead you just keep going, your intense love for your docbot mingling with your frustration to pour forth in a never-ending stream of loving threats. Only a total power outage cuts off a tangent about how Ratchet's age has not impacted his ability or endurance in "other areas" of your relationship either...

·The darkness is broken by flashing lights and the crackle of energy weapons firing all around, and you just manage to catch some familiar colors flashing through the dark before a very welcome red and white frame swoops in to carefully slice you out of the chains with a laser scalpel. There's just enough time to catch a smile overflowing with emotion before you're taken into gentle hands, and as Ratchet takes you back to the ship you get a glimpse of your very roughed up kidnapper being cuffed by the remaining crew. Your partner takes you straight to the medical bay, fussing over you all the way and asking a thousand questions about your wellbeing, but without any of his usual gruffness as he does so. In fact, he's probably the softest you've ever seen him. The smile never once leaves his face as he insists on getting you fed and rested and to bed where he pulls the covers over you himself.

·In the aftermath he almost seems to melt in your presence, losing most of his grumpy persona every time he's with you no matter how long or difficult a day he's had. Though you obviously don't mind, a couple bots let you know that when you were kidnapped he was the closest to losing control anyone had ever seen him. He'd been shouting and cursing until you had interrupted the latest communication with your captor, at which point he'd been so shocked others had needed to rush in and take advantage of the prolonged signal. Evidently, hearing you defend him as you did had rocked his world in the best possible way. Between working a stressful and often thankless profession, and not ever hearing you shout in such a way before, he's been touched to learn he could be loved by someone who appreciates him as you do. It's enough to keep even the worst of grumpy days from affecting him.

Tailgate

·Truth be told, your greatest concern when you were kidnapped was for your tiny SO, as his propensity for panic could result in some very unpleasant anxiety attacks while he and the others try to rescue you. That worry on his behalf turned to fury when your kidnapper refused to stop mocking the little bot for everything from his size to his age and even for supposedly choosing an organic solely to be taller than someone. It's enough to make you see red, and your limit is quickly reached as a result of the cowardly bullying. Your explosive bout of rage is a scream of frustration that quickly morphs into an unstoppable tirade that pulls no punches. Has this big jerk been planning this for any length of time you ask, because if so, you know a couple of sparklings that could think of more mature insults!

·"Really?! You make fun of bots for being short?! He's also blue, you want to pick on him for something arbitrary, why limit yourself?!" You know it's not the smoothest insult, but darn it all, you can't bring yourself to think straight with all this rage. This bot needs to hear what an absolute creep and bully they are, because seriously who gloats like a real life cartoon villain? When they leave the communicator and try to get in your face you're only further incensed, channeling your tiny partner's courage as you wish beyond the telling of it you could punch the jerk into silence. "If there's gonna be insults, how about I open the floor to some genuine digs? Because your ugly mug is a GOLDMINE of material, okay?! Seriously, does Unicron ask YOU for beauty tips?!"

·There's sputtering in response, which you just take as a go ahead to tear them apart, because at this point you're not sure if you can really stop. After all, record shattering hideous face aside, what does this bot actually have to offer? Tailgate has saved millions! Faced with multiple varieties of death, he took out the guy hellbent on committing species wide genocide, and he doesn't even brag about it! You rub that in your captors face with all the pride you have for your partner spurring you on, hoping that you get a chance to tell Tailgate what a source of inspiration he was in these moments. At the very least you'll have to tell him how your captor froze at the enraged shouting. "Plus, Tailgate has actual friends! People LIKE him, unlike you, who I'm guessing doesn't entertain often based on the corpses you leave lying around!"

·A last ditch attempt to shut you up with a few lame threats just gets you laughing, in part because you can't believe this bot ever thought they were going to succeed at this. "You didn't even bother to check up on who you're making an enemy of, did you? I doubt it, because if you did, you'd know Tailgate has made paperweights out of bots much tougher than you!" Perhaps it's a little macabre, but it's endlessly satisfying to see your captor flinch as you describe what an absolute powerhouse your partner is, particularly how he uses his small size to levy his strength in the most destructive ways possible. It's delightful enough that, as you begin to brag about the benefits of his size relative to yours and his strength working together in more intimate settings, only something like an earthquake stops you.

·Chained as you are, there's no way to get a clear look at your captor as they attempt to flee, but thankfully the ground stills just in time to let you see the cavalry arrive. Lost Light bots pour in to stop the automated defenses from doing much at all, and in a brilliant blue and white blur your kidnapper is punched full to unconsciousness by what might as well have been a meteorite. It's only when said force of nature runs to free you and a tearful blue visor meets your eyes that you recognize Tailgate. The minibot gets you down in a hurry and embraces you in as tight a hug as is safe, talking a mile a minute about his worries and how sorry he is you had to go through all this. After assuring him he doesn't have to beat up your captor any further, you let him carry you back to the ship, getting nuzzled all the while.

·In between far more frequent cuddle sessions from the absolutely enamored Tailgate, you get pulled aside by a couple bots who just want to let you know what an impact your brave speech had on the minibot. While inconsolable during your kidnapping, to the point of swapping between rage and tears every few minutes, he'd been visibly awed once he heard you go off in his defense. That makes you understand everything far more clearly; this bot has been unsure of his self worth for so long, so hearing you face down a much larger foe because you love him so much that their taunting him drove you to frenzy... Knowing he's loved like that changed his entire worldview. You can see it in his visor every time he looks at you, and feel it in every buzzing hug, how grateful he is to have found someone who loves him.

Cyclonus

·Dating a bot capable of triggering enemy surrender with a glance requires a strong will, mostly to endure the endless questions from bots confused as to how you got Cyclonus to ask you out, but today you find yourself facing a whole new level of irritation. Though the bot that kidnapped you is obviously no match for your towering partner, they still mock the big mech through radio like they're some kind of badass, taunting him for debasing himself and growing soft by dating a fleshy. Regardless of how hard Cyclonus has worked to open up to you, hearing the personal jabs makes something within snap and go nuclear, resulting in a war cry your partner would be proud of as you rattle your chains for emphasis.

·"Can you just CAN IT with the insults?! We all know that if this fleshy wasn't here as your shield, you'd be fleeing to the other end of the galaxy!" You waste no time getting right to the heart of what's so infuriating about your captor; their spineless and cowardly nature is so obvious beneath the sneering mockery it makes you literally sick. Seeing how completely they freeze at your jab just proves your point in your mind. What, were they just expecting you to be quiet forever after dealing with THEM for the past few hours? Was the idea of resistance that surprising to them?! The calm maturity you picked up from Cyclonus is matched only by the capacity for righteous fury learned from the same source, and it's the latter that breaks out in glorious fashion.

·"Oh, what, nothing to say? No moronic insults for someone who can actually talk back? Do you need your debate opponents to be silent so you can think of a rebuttal?!" Your almost sarcastic jab actually earns you a demand to be silent, but it's so lacking in authority you can only laugh, despite not feeling any less furious with the situation. It's bad enough to be kidnapped and chained up, but by someone this incompetent? Being a tiny fraction of their size doesn't make you feel any less embarrassed for having been caught by them. It's enough frustration to make you snap again when they start coming in close, especially as another insult is levied at Cyclonus for having chosen a human so unpleasant due to his age and miserable attitude. The words are little more than kerosene on your already burning anger.

·"Do you really think you get to accuse Cyclonus of having a miserable attitude, you inept excuse for a kidnapper?! I'd rather have a conversation with these corpses than you! Not to mention, Cyclonus isn't limited to insulting people whenever he talks, unlike you!" The tirade is perhaps nonsensical with how passionately you begin to praise your partner's command of verse, but you're far too lost in your genuine adoration to care, especially as you begin to relay how wonderfully enticing his singing is to you. Every time your captor tries to command silence you just jump to yet another feature that makes your heart flutter, riding on the high of how incredibly good it feels to rub it all in their flustered face as you go. An attempt at describing his passionate grasp of verse around specific topics is stopped only by a door flying off its hinges in a burst of shattered metal.

·Security forces do nothing as a hulking purple figure enters through the smoke of considerable destruction, and your captor is left paralyzed with fear as they're hefted up by a clawed hand, one you're so relieved to see you can't help calling out their name. Cyclonus is content to toss the criminal to the rest of the crew as they arrive, and actually smiles once he beholds you safe. Freeing you of your bonds, he doesn't drop the chains until they're wrapped about your captor for some poetic justice. After that, you're carried to the nearest private spot on the ship and embraced without hesitation, the giant arms that have held you before almost shaking as he whispers how grateful he is to have you back. For an instant he sheds genuine tears when you hug him in return.

·Though the intensity of his emotions isn't as extreme as when he rescued you going forward, the big bot is far more open about his feelings than ever before, even showing them in full view of others. Surprised but not at all displeased, you are however quite thrown for a loop when someone recounts how incredibly worried he was during your kidnapping, in that he had to be convinced not to go after you alone and gouged some unfortunate furniture as he listened to the communications. Yet the moment you started your tirade, he was shocked to a whole new kind of silence. It's obvious that he hadn't even been able to process it at first, but now is fully overwhelmed and grateful for your love as he never was before. Hearing himself defended by someone he adores more than anything changed his perspective of himself, as well as his outlook on life, for how could he not see the beauty of a universe that had given him you?

Drift

·Sort of an interstellar hippy in his own way, Drift has taught you a lot about remaining calm through meditation, saying that a clear mind and control over anger is key to surviving high stress situations. The same philosophy is what he instructed you to use when others mocked his past, as he claims to be used to it and doesn't want anyone angering you on his behalf. This doesn't stop you from simmering in your current situation, dangling from chains as you might be, and admittedly being kidnapped tends to shorten one's fuse. Perhaps that's why you explode so dramatically when your abductor opens up the communication line just to mock your partner by claiming he hardly should be upset by an organic dying, considering his past, and that this current "relationship" is probably just a redemption stunt. That final mistake sets you off on a legendary tirade.

·"Are you KIDDING me?! You want to talk about STUNTS you wannabe kidnapping loser?! Do you have a projection disorder or something?! Because unlike you, Drift doesn't actually have to PROVE anything!" Never in your life have you wished to be the same height as the bots to this degree, granted though it's only because you want to strangle this jerk purely for the satisfaction of throttling them. Drift has worked to be better, and jabs about his past hurt him deeply, despite what he says. What right does this loser have to use that against him? You're so worked up fear isn't in your catalog of emotions when your captor tries to threaten you with physical harm. All you see is an overhyped grifter who got lucky, and you make that abundantly clear.

·"What, are you going to try threatening me, really? Am I supposed to be afraid of bluster now?!" The sight of a tiny organic growing red in the face with rage actually seems to give the bad bot pause, in part because you're so flushed they have to wonder if humans have a secret explosive ability that you're presently charging up. Admittedly you do feel like you might pop, but that's only because it's impossible to unleash all of your anger in a way that's truly satisfying, and you're left with spouting all the very justified insults that spring to mind. One particular thing that galvanizes your anger; how is this jerk pretending they would stand a chance against Drift?! The bot may be a literal ray of sunshine to you, but you're well aware of what he can do to enemies, and you doubt your kidnapper is in the dark about your paramour's combat prowess.

·"Would you be playing the big tough bot if he were anywhere near here?! Or if you didn't have me as a shield?! Because I doubt you'd last a moment in a one on one!" You shout, your tone of vitriol somewhat humorous considering that the point is a very valid one. While not afraid of Drift in the slightest, you know being on his bad side can be fatal in impressively short order. Perhaps that's why his soft approach to your relationship is even better. It's so special to you that in your current state you can't help but brag aggressively, going on about what a wonderful bot he is and that this loser could never hope to best him in combat or personality. Seeing them rethink it all just adds fuel to your fire, but before you can really get going on how Drift's gentle mannerisms extend to the bedroom you're interrupted by a cacophony of unfathomable origin.

·One of the entrances to the room you're in is sliced open by what you swear has to be ten swords at once, but as soon as it's down and the wielder charges in, you see only two held by a very angry looking Drift. Though accompanied by ample backup, he's an army of one as he reduces the security to pieces and almost dices up your captor. Only some obviously difficult self control lets him immobilize the bot instead. Not wasting time, your partner leaves the bad guy for the others to hurry to your side, his expression beaming with unmatched happiness and relief as he cuts you free and catches you in cupped hands. Shameless kisses and a million questions about whether or not you're hurt are your prelude to an open embrace. Never minding public affection in the past, he's still at a new level all the way back to the ship and in the days that follow.

·It's impossible not to go an hour without a loving nuzzle against your forehead, and whenever you aren't looking Drift is in the corner of your eye with an absolutely lovestruck expression on his sweet face, to the point you halfway imagine there could be hearts in his optics. Rodimus himself tells you in confidence that the unshakable ninjabot was barely able to keep himself steady after your kidnapping, obviously holding back a hurricane of pain and grief within his spark, but that changed in a flash as soon as he heard you. Accustomed to being derided, he'd been unprepared for such a passionate defense from anyone. Hearing you shout his praises had nearly driven him to tears. The pain of his past and the exclusion he faces for it has worn him down, to the point he often believes himself to be irredeemable, but you've made him have hope for himself for the first time in eons. Your love makes him see what he's done right, and from now on, he fully intends to give you and himself more to be proud of every day.

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buginateacup · 2 years

Note

For the ship ask game, metromind? :3c

Hmmm, (you did this on purpose. I know you did. You could have had me gush about Roxanne but you chose violence.

...I can respect that.)

For Metro Mind I kind of feel I'm capable of shipping it if its written well, but I don't personally ship it so I'm going to answer both sets of questions.

Ship It

What made you ship it? Again, it would have to be written well but I think you could do endless really great things about "Last two left" (sorry Minion). Spending years feeling stuck in the roles they've let other people push them into and the connections they can build from that and a whole lot of Feeling Alien and their brains and thought processes working very differently from the humans of Metro City. There is fertile soil there if you're willing to plant a seed

What are your favorite things about the ship? They are both actual useless himbos and get stupider when they are around each other which is endlessly entertaining.

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship? I think Megamind is 100% into Metro Man but Metro Man doesn't think of Megamind as his own person with thoughts and feelings at all so it would always be a very onesided relationship. Not to mention the massive power imbalances and literal years of trauma Megamind was put through as a result of Wayne adopting the "Hero" Personality years before either of them were developed as individuals means I'd rather see them in therapy and Metro Man having to do a proper full on Harlequin romance "Grovel" with a capital G before I would be willing to ship it. This is not to excuse Megamind's actions, but Metro Man never shows a single second of empathy or remorse and everyone's favourite blue boy deserves better.

Don't Ship It

Why don't you ship it? Because I don't see canon!Metro Man as ever showing a hint of understanding as to the trauma he put Megamind through. His upbringing as a superpowered rich kid with adoration heaped on him from day one means I think he lacks any kind of sympathy or empathy or critical thinking skills and he straight up rich white kid fake dies his way into a gap year. He shows no desire for things to change and no remorse for how his actions impact people good or bad. and without that I don't see what Megamind is getting out of the relationship any more than he is getting anything out of the people cheering for him at the end of the movie. Plus I genuinely do not like Metro Man. I understand him. I think the burnout was masterfully done and years ahead of its time. But I do not like him. He's a self absorbed dick and I simply do not have the patience for that bullshit. And I do think once Megamind gets to distance himself from the Battle of Good and Evil he is going to realise he is better off without him too. All of which means if Megamind and Metro Man were ever together it would be just another imbalanced encounter and another act of self flagellation for Megamind (I can't have this because its real I can only have this as punishment).

What would have made you like it? One Helluva grovel! I need to see Wayne in twelve years of therapy, apologising to Megamind and for Megamind to say "Thanks but I never want to see you again" for five years before they are willing to get one incredibly awkward coffee together as acquaintances and let it grow into a slow friendship then onto a very gradual romance with some very upfront discussions about what kind of bullshit they put each other through before I would consider it.

Despite not shipping it, do you have anything positive to say about it? I think there are some incredibly well written depictions out there. And definitely I have my own fics written where they do get together (or are together) in a poly trio/quad with Roxanne and Minion. It can be done! It is Interesting. I will definitely give you that. Just not for me. Also Himbo!Wayne is excused from all of this. He's doing amazing sweetie.

#ask meme #Bug throws a metaphorical amp at Wayne's head for several paragraphs #thanks Lara #sorry if I hurt you bby #Himbo Wayne is friend-shaped #Metro Man can suck a dick #the dicksucking cannot form part of the apology #he needs to use his words #I can't believe you didn't want me to talk Megarox #is this punishment for the last chapter of Topsy?#I'm working on it I swear #Metromind

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lover-of-trash-and-people · 3 years

Text

shadow and bone rewatch s1e6 while drinking mid-range scotch

I wish I have a face that is as unlined and pretty as Ben Barnes' when I'm 39

Arken you dirty dirty liar

the face Alek is making at his lies that he knows are lies firstly because he knows the art of lying so well and also because he can read people very well

okay Ivan is kind of a bad bitch with his smirk at Arken's lies

alek's eyes narrowing and his little smile when Arken says 'im an entertainer' bitch I love this show

*grabs hand, pulls up sleeve, and discovers Arken's hand is full of marks indicating successful passages through the fold* 'well, that is certainly entertaining' I love this man with all my heart

him screaming is so fucking hot, is that weird for me to say

Nina being the Darkling's spy is quite interesting

Ben giving the Darkling crazy eyes when Arken owns up to his guilt is so cool

also wtf is Arken a fool trying to negotiate with possibly the strongest man in the world

kind of loved the darkness literally eating him

also love Alina learning to use her powers better when she is alone than when she is with anyone else, wish we got to see the cut in this season as per the books, ah can't have everything I guess

the camera pan to Jesper's gun at his side, amazing

god Jessie is literally so beautiful I need to see her bring Alina to the peak of her power so bad

netflix you better renew this series to let the plot run to its completion

HOW THE FUCK DID THEY CAST THE CROWS SO PERFECTLY

INEJ FUCKING TREMBLING JUST THE TINIEST BIT AS SHE BOWS SLIGHTLY TO ALINA SGSHSBSJJSJSSJ MY TWO QUEENS

'And where is my Summoner?' my little Darklina heart ouchie I really wish you hadn't used and manipulated her like this Alek it was incredibly fucked up especially considering you actually caught feelings

'Ivan and I won't fail you' oh Fedyor my baby, my angel, you don't deserve what is coming

Helnik literally recreating Titanic lmao stop this is a joke

I too would jump off the raft if I came to consciousness to see a gorgeous woman with magical powers with her hand on my back

omg but why is ryevost so pretty though

'I know exactly how she felt. The King's soldiers treated me the same way... I'm not myself today.' why must you do this to me, why must you fuel my darklina soulmates agenda idiocy

I don't quite think I have a problem with the Zoya Darkling relationship as much as I have a problem with the line they chose to reveal it to use with.

my drink's over and I don't know if I should have another, considering that it's 7 am

the tenderness with which he looks at Zoya and takes her hand and then when he says 'I shall relax when I have Alina' makes me believe more that the man that is reduced to tears time and again in front of Alina could in fact be the master manipulator I know him to be

god I can't wait for Zoya's character arc

'I speak six languages, it's part of my job' why is Nina literally the fucking coolest

Alina blinding the oprichniki was so hot, I can't wait to see more of her power and her ruthlessness

I know I've said it before but good god is Jessie Mei Li gorgeous

HER LITTLE SMILE AMONGST ALL THE PANIC AS SOON AS SHE SEES MAL, THE AUDACITY OF THIS SHOW TO MAKE ME FEEL THIS WAY

THE SCORE COMING IN AT THE RIGHT MOMENT, THEIR HANDS MEETING, HER SMILE AGAIN DHDHSBSNSNSNSNAN IM IN PAIN

REALLY?! YOU'RE GONNA GO DIRECTLY FROM MALINA TO HELNIK WITH NO CONCERN FOR MY HEART?

I simply cannot get over Calahan's accent lmao it's really funny

'im not afraid of you' he says to the insanely gorgeous girl with magic

HIM HANGING HIS HEAD IN DEFEAT TO INDICATE NINA HAS MADE VALID POINTS YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND I CAN'T BREATHE

'You're just a man. Like all the others.' she says and then forgets her train of thought looking at him as he strips. god I love this

not sleeping all night and then scotch is not a good idea, I think

'I promise not to ravish you' 'I hate the way you talk' her hand on his chest, his hand gripping hers, my fucking heart feels like it's about to explode

good god these shooting locations and sets are so beautiful

Alina throwing the flask at Mal and Mal going 'OI!' I fucking can't, I guess I am a

simp for childhood friends to lovers, give me more of that banter and childhood friend energy, I am thriving

wow it literally seems like they took book! Mal sl*tshaming book! Alina and made show! Alina sl*tshame show! Mal, hmm, interesting

'They would have split us up!' MAL'S LITTLE SMILE AT THIS, and the 'You wrote me letters?' Mal's nod, the Malina yearning stare, the Malina hug, 'thank you for finding me' 'always. I'll always find you.' NO MALINA YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND YOU HAVE MADE ME ABSOLUTELY FUCKING FERAL

I understand they had to split time between my ravkan babies and the crows and that is why there were several aspects that were sort of not reflected on enough but Alina's training at the Little Palace, Alina's cut, Mal's personality, a teensy bit of backstory for the crows, maybe one lockpicking scene from my boy Kaz

random note: we have far too many idols and paintings and pictures and whatnot of Hindu deities in our house apart from the specially designed temple (we are Hindus, so maybe it's not that weird but it's a little weird)

Kaz's cane is a literal star, it's so beautiful my heart wants to explode

'Why would Heleen get the Crow Club?' *literally fucking gets up and walks aways instead of answering the fucking question* I LITERALLY CAN'T BREATHE I'M LOSING MY MIND

'I know that voice' WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT TO MAKE ME FIGHT FOR PLATONIC SHIPS IN FANDOMS

'We won't starve' omg get you someone who packs food for you when you go on the run together hiding from your ex who wants to capture you and use your powers as a weapon against your consent

Mal looking surprised at her summoning sunlight, Alina looking cautiously at him waiting for him to disapprove or run for the hills in fear or smth like that, 'I'm sorry it took me this long to see you... But I see you now' my dumb little shipper trash heart ouch

they really said we're gonna feed you this part asian couple as the protagonists in this show in 2021 and guess what I'm eating it's really tasty I'm very satisfied as a south asian

NINA'S LITTLE SMILE WHEN MATTHIAS WAKES UP WITH HIS ARM AROUND HER

'I can feel how much you hate sleeping next to me' 👀👀👀 BITCH SAID IMMA SPILL THE TEA AND THEN SHE DID

it's 8 am and guess what I'm getting another drink my parents have c*vid and are in govt qu*r*ntine centres there is nobody to supervise or stop me

I too say 'Why do you have to say things like that?' to my pretty crush when she flirts with me

Nina smiling at Matthias bragging about his conservative ways is my aesthetic

'No, it's not natural for someone to be as stupid as he is tall and yet, oh, there you stand.' MY FUCKING QUEEN

Matthias laughing uncontrollably at Nina saying something which isn't even that funny is a whole ass vibe

Kaz Brekker saying 'The Black General' ooh fuck yeah

YESSSS STEP OUT OF THAT CARRIAGE ALL SEXY BLACK GENERAL

isn't alcohol supposed to like kill germs? well, the amount in my system definitely will

I love my crows so much (always but this time particularly for setting that alarm in the stolen carriage)

ooh Polina recognising Inej by the knife yesss let's go writers

this Ivan Jesper showdown is all I needed from life and yet did not know about

Ivan taking off his cloak was, um, sexier than I wanted it to be

I just realised how thirsty I am going to sound in this post

'Has no one told you that keftas are Fabrikator-made and resistant to bullets, hmm?' 'Oh, I do love a challenge' LITERALLY EVERYTHING

im sorry to be pointing out flaws in a perfect show and adaptation but the line delivery on 'You robbed me of my brother, now I'll rob you of your life' from Polina was kind of weak

'You're a-' *gets knocked out with the back of a gun* LMAO we love the hints

got excited at the prospect of kaz v. zoya until I realised they will not be letting the opportunity of kaz v. darkling pass up

my goodness is Amita Suman a splendid actress

I AM NOT KIDDING WHEN I TELL YOU I SQUEALED WHEN I SAW DARKLES EMERGE OUT OF THE SHADOWS IN FRONT OF MY BABY BOY KAZ

THERE BEING ACTUAL FEAR OR ATLEAST DOUBT ON KAZ'S FACE, THE LITTLE BACK STEPS AS

THE DARKLING WALKS TOWARDS HIM, AAAAH I CAN'T

THE DARKLING STOPPING AT KAZ SAYING 'SHE FLED ON HER OWN' AND THE HINT OF TEARS THAT WE SEE IN HIS EYES

'IT WAS PRETTY CLEAR SHE WASN'T INTERESTED IN BEING A CAPTIVE ANYMORE' YOU TELL HIM, KING

*ACTUAL FUCKING TEARS IN THE DARKLING'S EYES AS THE SHADOWS APPROACH*

NOT ME YOWLING LIKE A HYENA THAT THIS CHILD OUTSMARTED THE MOST POWERFUL MAN IN EXISTENCE WITH A FAKE MAGIC TRICK

'Are you sure you added enough cloves?' literally warranting a wide ass smile from my queen Alina making my entire fucking day

for some reason, no matter how much I push it from my mind, Ben Barnes dressed up as the Darkling, dancing to 'push it' keeps coming to mind, it's absolutely ridiculous

I got somehow distracted with interviews but good things came out of that as it gave my body the time for the booze to kick in

and I would just like to say that I love Leigh for all she has given me

Alina is so fucking compassionate, I have no much love for her. I can feel her guilt and her sorrow as Mal talks of Mikhail and Dubrov

don't particularly like how the stag plotline is woven in, could have been executed better

'You're afraid you might start to like me?' *flaps furs like a bird's wings in frustration*

'I DO like you' my fucking heart you idiots

the sexual tension is so palpable and the moment is so intimate I simply cannot

OMG SHE FUCKING FELL

that moment where you think he might let her fall despite having read the books and he doesn't and he tells her his name I- <3

YOU DARE TRANSITION FROM A HELNIK SCENE TO A KANEJ SCENE YOU REALLY HAVE NO MERCY FOR MY HEART HUH

people have talked about this endlessly but Freddie's little jaw tic after he says Inej because Inej is wounded and he can't physically bring himself to help her I fucking cannot

THE MUSIC PICKING UP AS KAZ LOOKS TO THE DARKLING'S CARRIAGE I CAN'T WITH THIS SHOW ANYMORE

and now for one of my favorite scenes in television and cinematic history, David Kostyk throwing a book at Jesper Fahey without even knowing who he is merely because he opens the door of his carriage and says hello to him before getting knocked out by Kaz Brekker while trying to run away

Immediately followed by another, the scene with David Kostyk raising his finger to put forward his point in front of the Darkling and the Darkling trying to let him know he doesn't have to before obliging is one of my favourite scenes in the world

also sir please stop being devastatingly attractive in your glorious appearance with your face and your black kefta and cloak because all that comes to mind is Ayesha Erotica's Emo Boy and I'm afraid that is terribly inappropriate.

'No, you look great.' *literally looks down from embarrassment or blushing* MALINA RIGHTS?

THE LOOK ON THE DARKLING'S FACE BEFORE HE SAYS 'NO ORDINARY TRACKER, NO ORDINARY GIRL' BITCH IM OUT OF BREATH

'ORPHANS OF KERAMZIN, REUNITED.' 'ADORABLE.' HE FUCKING SNEERED IRL I FUCKING CANNOT

GOD IT'S SO GOOD

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ruby-whistler · 3 years

Text

hi, here's a short (long) analysis of this song which you should at least give a watch in my opinion! you might not like it, but you also might, so i say give it a shot.

anyways, here's my personal interpretation of the lyrics i (co)wrote. ani might have a completely different one, but you know.

beforehand, i need to point out that the first half of this was written before c!wilbur's revival and the second one was written after.

so, starting with the title

my motivation for it was c!wilbur's general role in shaping the narrative of the server, as well as cc!wilbur often joking around about scripts and other plot elements.

another thing was a clip of him talking with philza about how he thought the server's storyline was becoming very scattered, and i got the idea that maybe when c!wilbur comes back, he might try to rewrite the plot to his benefit as he has done time and time again.

hence, the idea for the song was born in my mind as i was falling asleep one night, because that is the only time i get good ideas.

the first half

"history, history, s'told by the winners, made by the sinners"

this was a reference to wilbur quoting the famous line "history is told by the victors". the reason i chose to use this set of words is because although the winners (wilbur) are the ones telling the story, the people who actually make the impact are often flawed, and genuinely invested in the cause (rest of l'manberg).

while c!wilbur knew the cause of l'manberg was false, he let the "sinners", or people he considered lower than him, since he was the one "telling" the story, win the war for him and make history as he altered the finished "story" in his own favor.

"so lie that you'll free them, s'long as you lead 'em"

this one is pretty self-explanatory. wilbur promised the revolution freedom in return for total loyalty to him, his power, and his country.

i'd also like to point out the use of "you" in this song - this was written, once again, before the revival; it was however expected that dream was going to bring wilbur back at some point. and i'm pretty sure ani doesn't know this, but writing this, i intentionally made the "you" wilbur is singing to be dream.

in essence, wil's telling his newfound ally about how powerful he is due to his abilities to "rewrite the script" - picture this being your usual villain monologue song after a dramatic return, since wil's always had a knack for the theatrics. keep this in mind for the rest of the explanation of these lyrics.

"the ink doesn't dry 'till time blows by spin a silver web and they're comply"

i absolutely loved this lyric, i couldn't stop gushing about it. ani came up with this one completely, so i don't know whether or not it has any deeper meaning, but i wanted to point it out because it sounds hella cool. the second part is about c!wilbur spinning lies until people would listen to him and do what he wants.

"smiles in the mirrors, reality's a game"

this line was meant to give an idea of just how screwed wilbur's perception of the world and people around him is, in that he treats everyone's lives as a narrative, as a symphony, as something that belongs to him and is free for him to play with.

smiles in the mirrors can be taken in a lot of ways, but one interpretation i like is that wilbur and dream as characters are parallels in their actions, but no one realizes it because the narrative paints them in different lights and the tragic hero and puppeteer respectively, when it's moreso the other way around.

"with help from the spinners we can shift all the blame"

spinners are the people wilbur uses to "spin" the tales for him. and, well, he's always been very good at shifting the blame and making himself out to be a victim.

seeing as he's talking to dream, in this line he is also reassuring him that he has people on the outside that can help them "rewrite" the current narrative and shift the blame away from dream and wilbur, in order to change the public's perception of them, which is at the time overwhelmingly negative.

"and if the world hunts you down out your mind and around we'll set their precious world adrift, adrift"

this is the most obvious pointer that wilbur is singing to dream. he is directly telling him that since the people of the smp have "hunted" him (or would, if he were to escape), and have hurt him mentally and physically in the prison, wilbur would work with him to destroy their lives and their world as they know it for their mutual gain.

it also brings forth his views of possession and power; in essence, he sees himself as in charge of the lives of everyone in his story, hence finding their realities fragile and fully his own to mess with. he finds it amusing that he has full control over something so "precious" to them, and mocks this sentiment in the last line.

"and if you don't like what's shown and you feel like no one's grown just, rewrite the script!"

this was the first lyrics for the song, which ani wrote, after i proposed the idea. this begins a trend in the song where wilbur will alternate between talking to dream and the viewers themselves.

here he is directly addressing those who don't like the way the smp has been since wilbur has stopped writing, and who call out the lack of character development in certain people's stories. he is reassuring them that now that he's back, he will rewrite it to be more entertaining - for him, that is.

the second half

alright, now we're going over what i myself wrote the day wilbur was revived after getting a surge of inspiration.

"screams, broken voices poor writing choices"

this starts off with revived wilbur's opinions on the new storyline he has come into. the first line refers to the torture dream is going through in prison, and the second is him simply commenting on how he finds the plotline inadequate after his return.

"dreams of redemption caught my attention"

the interesting thing about this is that wilbur, as has been shown before with eret, doesn't believe in people's redemption.

this line insinuates that even if there was any chance of the circumstances changing and dream getting better, now that wilbur was back, he wan't planning to let that happen, as he finds it one of the aforementioned "poor writing choices".

it caught his attention as something he finds interesting - since he's always had a twisted fascination with people's hopes and goals, finding ways to use them to his advantage - but in the end, naive, since his outlook on the world has always been quite cynical.

"train wheels screech on the rails in the end, my world prevails"

this was an attempt to shove a reference to the stream i had just watched into the song. the train stopped in limbo, and it came to get him back out to the world of the living.

the second line is him boasting that he knew all along that his efforts to gain people's loyalty would would pay off in the end, and hence his "word" prevailed even over death.

"i've got tales in store, of loss and of war it's a shattered world for me to restore"

see, this entire sequence is quite the oxymoron, and it's meant to be confusing, showcasing once again just how twisted wilbur's outlook on the world is.

he finds the story "shattered", which is a reference to cc!wilbur saying he prefers more centred stories than what the dsmp is right now. he is promising to fix this, finding it another game for him to play, another puzzle for him to solve, however, his definition of "restore" is proven by the previous line to be a contradiction at its core.

he has plans from his time in limbo, and just like all of his stories so far, they're tragic and traumatizing to the people playing in them. he plans to perpetuate war and conflict in order to make the story more lively and dynamic, while using loss as a tragic element to push the "characters" in their lives further towards development.

in the end, the way he's planning to "restore" the world is by rewriting the narrative in such a way that it wouldn't stagnate, or work itself out naturally, but continue endlessly for him to write and control.

"villains and heroes, traitors and moles when push comes to shove they'll burn the world for their goals"

the second part of the first line was meant to be "interchangeable roles" instead, but we switched it out so it would be easier to sing.

it's talking about how after all, it doesn't really matter to wilbur who the villain or hero is, as long as they are part of the narrative that he has power over.

"and if i harness the flame their hope will blaze all the same no time for interests to conflict"

this is confirmation of the previous point that he can use people's feelings against them and in order to perpetuate his own "interests". as long as he can make people think he's helping them, even if their goals are different, there won't be room for them to truly conflict.

the people on the dream smp all burn with hope and passion and human emotions he can exploit and use in favour of himself and his story, and even then they won't get any weaker. he sees them as an endless fuel source he can take from, essentially.

"so when you're blue and betrayed by all the choices you've made just, rewrite the script."

the last lines of the song, and here he is speaking specifically to the characters in the story. all of them have made mistakes and been "betrayed" by their choices to trust others, which left them or others grieving or hurt.

wilbur is in essence mocking this, by pointing out, once again, how simple it is for him to "just rewrite the script", and take all of their "blue" away - while also making it clear that he only plans to use this power to take further control by driving those he sees fit further down their path of revenge and villainy.

epilogue

thank you all for reading, whoever did! this song was truly a passion project for me to work on, and i loved coming up with deeper meanings to the lyrics, by using my own personal interpretation of the character. i get that this is not everyone's interpretation, but i like it. i also really can't wait for what wilbur's up to now that he's back. either way, have a nice day!

#dream smp #rewrite the script #fansong #fansong analysis #c!wilbur #long post

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puttingfingerstokeys · 3 years

Text

A little something I whipped up for @heamatic with her Shinnok in mind.

No timeline alignment stuff here, just pure gift work based on a thread we’ve got on my RP account @bastardsunlight. Ft. Shinnok being creepy because that’s kind of his thing. Shinlao, because we haven’t come up with a ship name and I am appalled at our laxity.

Also like, I can’t believe I’m saying this but neither writer is in any way under some fucked up impression that this is a good, safe, or non-toxic ship. We use the term to describe people who are involved IN SOME WAY. That way is not necessarily healthy.

This story features no NSFW instances.

The dimly lit corridors of the Bone Temple are familiar passageways to Kung Lao as he moves effortlessly toward the audience chamber where he will soon be needed. Shinnok does not often offer his time, but today, he evidently feels generous. It is therefore his favorite creature’s duty to attend as well. Lao has long since stopped thinking of himself as a monk or even a former one, though his spiritual power is still formidable. That life is behind him. Netherrealm is—if not his home—his territory.

Emerging from a massive double door at one side of the infernal hall, he surveys the emptiness of it, the cavernous opulence of the mad god’s particular tastes. Deeper, under vents in the floor—Shinnok appreciates the screams of his captives—is the dungeon proper, though the audience hall very much resembles it. The high pillars are of dark reds, shining obsidian, and shot through with veins of other colors difficult to distinguish in the Stygian light of the realm of dishonored dead. Everything is bone and sinew and suffering here, fire and brimstone and ugly deception.

“You have kept me waiting, little one,” purrs the Elder God of Chaos from his throne. It is, naturally, constructed of bones—not all humanoid. He leans to one side and regards Kung Lao with those inscrutable eyes characteristic of his kind. “Do you wish to bring punishment down on yourself?”

“No, master,” responds Kung Lao, approaching the dais and then ascending to within reach of the massive entity’s long arms. If Shinnok wishes to pull his guts out and toss him back down like a used doll, he may do so from anywhere; why inconvenience him?

“Yet you offer no explanation…” The Elder God’s finger came out and lifted Kung Lao’s chin before sliding down his neck, over the pretty young man’s Adam’s apple, and down to collar bone and chest. He has left this one alive, appreciating the responsive heat and goose flesh of living skin. It bruises so prettily.

“I offer no excuse, my lord.” Kung Lao meets his eyes with an impertinence he loves and hates and oh he has made the right choice in this one. He had known the moment they met upon the field of kombat that Kung Lao would, indeed, make an excellent addition to his collection.

“You are wise beyond your years, it seems, if a bit pert.” Shinnok retracts his hand and waves it about. “Well, get on with it. I’ve better things to do.”

Quan-Chi materializes presently, late as well, though his arrival receives no acknowledgement whatsoever. His dark lord spares not a glance, instead watching the retreating back of the foolish monk who exchanged his own freedom for the life of his friend. Sentiment is worthless in Netherrealm and soon, the arrogant boy will learn this, if the old soul sorcerer must show him the way with his own two hands. His fists clench with the thought, imagining themselves about Kung Lao’s throat, squeezing until something breaks. The pleasure that arises from the thought sends a shudder down his spine.

Meanwhile, Kung Lao, unaware of this contemplation—or if he is aware, he cares so little, he doesn’t bother sparing the man, if a thing like Quan-Chi can be called a man, a single glance—turns to descend the dais. An oversized bone arm which has sprouted from the stone and bone floor of the mad god’s receiving hall offers itself, open-palmed, to the fallen monk. Kung Lao accepts it gracefully, laying his hand in the much larger one, knowing he has not displeased his lord on this day. The dry, brittle-feeling digits wrap gently about the young man’s hand as he makes his graceful retreat to discharge his duties.

Quan-Chi scowls at Kung Lao’s back until Shinnok actually turns his attention on his favored sorcerer—really the only sorcerer who will competently serve him with true, deep loyalty. It really is pathetic to watch, but sometimes a whipped dog is better than no dog. Shinnok has not even had to whip this one. He’s done it of his own accord.

A strange Netherrealm native (as native as anyone can be in a realm of dishonored souls and demonic constructs born of the mad god’s fits of rage), it had been he who had approached the Elder God of rot and chaos to serve him. If Lord Shinnok could be said to be grateful for anything, he might have chosen that moment when Quan-Chi’s power had drawn him to his lord and master’s prison and set about events which would eventually free and embody him. Of course they have greater plans, but for the time being, this will do.

This will do very nicely indeed, he considers, regarding his little pet’s taut backside as Kung Lao makes his way through the hall, the bone arm now sliding along with him, digging a furrow in the ground which seems to knit itself together just a few feet behind the abomination which now has its hand on the curve of Kung Lao’s lower back. Every sensation the bone arm feels, he also feels and the warmth of living flesh is delightful; he wants to grasp it hard, make the boy squeal with pain, make him bleed a little. Just a little.

Perhaps later.

“You have some… news?” Quan-Chi has been scheming—he is always scheming—to manifest his dark, mad god in Earthrealm and he clearly believes he has hit upon something. Shinnok can see it in the sparkle of the man’s eyes. Oh how he loves me, contemplates the Elder God with absolutely no reciprocity of that feeling.

“I do, my lord,” responds the sorcerer, bowing to one knee and standing to deliver his findings. Shinnok listens patiently, mind elsewhere as it must always be. He is chaos incarnate. There is little order to be had in Netherrealm beyond his absolute rule. Not much can hold the attention of an Elder God, in general, but Shinnok in particular has always allowed his mind to wander where it will. Aside from grand machinations of upset and overthrow which delight him endlessly, there is almost nothing of such magnitude in all of existence—no single object or concept which can so fascinate him. What could possibly be of such import that he, a deity, might need to focus his energies on it for any length of time? The boy, some part of his thoughts remind him sweetly. You’re quite captivated with your new toy, aren’t you? Ah but toys come and go. He will tire of this one… eventually.

That boy is now crossing the threshold of the temple’s audience hall, the doors gliding open before him. The dry heat of Netherrealm has ceased to move him and he walks out into it, ushering in the first petitioner, wondering if his lord and master will listen to this one, or slay it on sight. Any creature, demon, or lost soul who is bold enough to approach the Bone Temple and beg favors of the lord of the Realm is desperate, addled, or too cocksure for their own good. An obliteration by the death god is permanent, it is nothingness, non-existence. Somehow, that void is more terrifying by far than the screaming, burning, howling dimness of Netherrealm.

The first demon in line—he is first by virtue of having killed his way up the queue; the corpses of those before him are littered in pieces here and there as a testament to this, all still twitching and flailing as the death he grants is only pain—is a truly imposing figure, easily ten feet in height, with massive, twisted horns like a ram and a maw full of jagged teeth. His eyes ablaze with contempt. This expression does not soften when it lays its burning gaze (with all four eyes) upon the pretty, behatted monk—Kung Lao may not think of himself as a monk, but they do—but rather hardens to something bordering on obscene. The thing licks slavering lips with an exaggerated motion, clearly aiming to upset the small, soft-looking mortal, who does not respond, only gestures to the hall.

“The master will see you now,” he says in a neutral tone that betrays nothing. “Please, follow me.”

As they enter, the beast’s three-toed feet hit the ground much harder with each step than might actually be necessary, as if to emphasize his weight. Shinnok leans back upon his throne and assumes a semi-attentive posture. There is no real reason for him to pretend he cares; even the pretense is worthless, but for now, it entertains him. Some of the denizens of his realm wait the Netherrealm equivalent of months, even years, if Shinnok is indisposed and simply does not care. Lately, he has been taking more audiences, but then he has only lately had a… secretary. Kung Lao moves swiftly ahead of the demon, braid swinging tantalizingly behind his shapely back. The boy is an hourglass, upon close inspection, broad of shoulder, narrow of waist, and thick of hip and rear-end. The demon is inspecting.

“This is far enough,” instructs Kung Lao. “What are you called?”

The demon splutters with indignation. How could they not know him, the greatest general of the northern armies of Khadul, the god-king of the demons, the true creatures of Netherrealm! He has severely overestimated his importance, a grave error in the Bone Temple. The silent hall rings with its silence. An audience chamber ought necessarily to have an audience, but Shinnok prefers the cavernous immensity. It reiterates just how small his petitioners truly are. He eyes the demon, but has yet to speak. A bone arm sprouts near Kung Lao and it makes a twirling motion with its forefinger.

“Lord Shinnok bids you speak,” says the shapely boy through plump lips that look like they ought to be bruised and bloodied and used, in the creature’s foul opinion.

“I will speak,” he snarls, reaching out toward Kung Lao with the intent to brush past, “but with the lord of this Realm, he in whose temple we stand, not you, little slut. There are things I would do with you, yes, but speaking… it is not one of them.” The demon’s laughter rings out boldly into the hall, bouncing off the skulls and femurs and ribs and myriad other bones which make the walls, floor, and ceiling. Quan-Chi flinches minutely, though more at the brazenness of it than the sound. Shinnok is a statue. The bone arm has dissipated, crumbling like ash and ruin, leaving Lao alone. His lord is watching.

“No,” says Kung Lao, the syllable sharp and clear as a pretty bell rung in a mausoleum—and equally as incongruous next to the obscene, guttural speech of the demon. “No,” he repeats, “you do not speak. You bark like a mangy cur begging for scraps. Heel.”

He rushes the demon with lightning speed as it swings for him. There is a brief moment when it seems he might make a try for the beast’s sizeable testes, which swing visibly behind the scant loincloth one might say he is “wearing”. The idea occurs to him and a strange flash of melancholic amusement jolts Kung Lao’s spine before he disappears beneath his hat in a flash of red light and lotus petals. The creature, having never encountered this particular mortal, looks baffled and squats to examine the hat. Quan-Chi’s mouth opens to warn the beast of its insolence in his master’s presence, but a sharp gesture from said master silences him. His face heats with rage. How dare the boy show off this way? He will be punished—perhaps disemboweled or flayed. How delicious that would be!

As the as yet unnamed demon reaches toward the object to pick it up, the flash occurs once more and the deadly piece of headwear flips upward, turning vertically, its far edge held by the owner, the only man in any realm able to master such a strange weapon. The creature barely has time to cry out as Kung Lao draws the hat up its entirety, bisecting the thing and spilling its steaming insides along the floor. Midair, Kung Lao flings the hat, hard, toward Shinnok. Once more, Quan-Chi blanches, but the mad god catches it easily and holds it, bottom facing downward, toward his knees where he sits. This, he thinks, is the most fun I have had in millennia.

Kung Lao’s form plummets toward the gory mess he has made and for a brief, shining moment, Quan-Chi thinks perhaps he will fall and snap his neck and that will be that, one last escape attempt with the final spark of the monk’s spirit left to him. Lord Shinnok has no need of a broken doll. Of course this is a flight of pure fancy. Shinnok will find a use for that beautiful body, even broken.

Alas, rather than crashing to his death—or maiming, at least—Kung Lao’s body dives into a circle of blood, red light, once more accompanied by a flash and flurry of lotus petals. It takes only half a moment for him to repeat the trick, falling out of the hat and into his lord and master’s waiting lap. Shinnok allows the hat to settle upon Kung Lao’s head and once more tilts his chin upward so that their eyes meet.

“Far too impertinent,” he scolds, shaking his head, running his thumb over his little doll’s full, perfect, soft lower lip. Kung Lao is flushed with the pleasure of his accomplishment and hasn’t a spot of blood on his person. “Who are you to decide who I do and do not address, hmm? Is this not my domain?”

“His master would pretend it is not. One cannot serve two lords and you rule this Realm.” This is not a question, nor is it simpering. Kung Lao speaks cold, hard facts. “I merely saved you the trouble of hearing a dog bark.”

So bold, Shinnok thinks. I must curb this. But he does not punish his little favorite. The unpredictability delights him. Quan-Chi senses this misplaced delight and recedes from the receiving hall unseen, glowering over his shoulder and now hellbent on perfecting his machinations to bring his master to Earthrealm.

#violence #cc #cw #mortal kombat #kung lao #shinnok #shinlao #gift work

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master-sass-blast · 3 years

Text

Winter Stay-cation.

*insert pithy quip here*

Summary: A massive squall hits New York City. The snow, combined with a deep freeze, brings the city that never sleeps to a standstill once the police issue travel bans. Fortunately, you and Piotr know how to keep yourselves entertained during your impromptu stay-cation.

Pairing(s): Piotr Rasputin x Reader, Nathan Summers x Wade Wilson, and Ellie Phimister x Yukio.

Rating: G for fluff.

Word Count: 3.4k.

Set after “It’s Truly Magical.”

A/N: The movie quote from Day Five is from Alfred Hitchcock’s “Rear Window.”

Taglist: @marvel-is-perfection, @chromecutie, @girl-obsessed-with-things, @super-darkcloudstudent, @dandyqueen, @leo-writer

“—continuing into the middle of next week, if not longer. Expect heavy snowfall and temperatures below freezing, with windchill taking things below zero over the weekend.”

“Good grief.” You shake your head as you watch the weather report on the morning news. “It doesn’t get that cold when I fly full speed.”

Piotr, your husband, hands you a cup of coffee and shrugs. “January is ugly month.”

You smirk into your mug. “Bet this doesn’t compare to Siberian winters.”

“Not really,” he admits with a chuckle.

“The Chief of New York City’s Fire Department has issued a statement reminding residents to be careful when using their fireplaces and to monitor children and pets.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you quip, “Don’t use fireworks as kindling, we got it.”

Piotr snorts.

“In addition, the Police Department has issued a travel advisory in light of the predicted precipitation and sub-zero temperatures. All none-essential travel is restricted until the cold snap passes.”

“Groovy. Tell that to half the city.”

Piotr grins, shakes his head again, then turns the TV off. “Looks like we will have to keep ourselves occupied here this week.”

You cast a disparaging glance outside –where the snow is already up to Piotr’s knees—then say, “Like we were going anywhere else.”

***

Day One

There’s an upside to when the “deep freeze” hits. It’s already winter break, meaning there’s no coordinating classes, figuring out how to pick up students that don’t live at the mansion, or having to get up at the balls-ugly hours of the early morning in the stupid, frigid cold.

The two of you wake up at your leisure, around nine o’clock. You laze around in bed for a bit, snuggling and chatting and smooching, then head downstairs for breakfast. You wind up setting up shop at the dining room table, catching up on grading and filling out end of the semester report cards.

“Can you check these for me?” Piotr asks, handing you a stack of essays from his art classes. “I already made content-based marks; I am just not sure about English grammar.”

“Fun fact: most native English speakers aren’t sure about their grammar, either,” you joke with a smirk.

Piotr snorts, then checks his computer clock before standing. “Is about lunchtime. I was thinking soup and sandwiches?”

You nod. “Sounds tasty.”

“Would you like anything in particular?”

“Surprise me.” You make a contented hum when Piotr leans over the table to kiss you, then smile as you watch him head to the kitchen.

You really are the world’s luckiest woman (a sentiment you feel even more keenly when he comes back with a fresh cup of hot cider for you).

***

Day Two

“We should clean.”

The two of you are sitting on the couch. Your laptops sit on the coffee table, displaying the completed efforts of uploading grades to the online gradebook that the school uses. Two mugs that once contained coffee sit next to either laptop.

You look up at Piotr. You’re tucked against his side, head leaning on his shoulder while his fingers trace designs on the sleeve of your sweater (which is technically his sweater, but that’s neither here nor there). “Huh?”

“We should clean,” he repeats as he scrubs at his face with his free hand. “House could use it.”

You crane your neck to look over his shoulder. “We don’t really have that many dirty dishes.”

Piotr snorts, then raises an eyebrow at you. “When was last time we vacuumed? Or deep cleaned bathrooms? Or washed windows?”

“We can see out the windows just fine!”

Piotr grins and shakes his head. He stands, holding his hand out to you. “Come on, myshka. Clean home, clean mind.”

“I’ll have you know that my mind is nothing but dirty, and I’m offended that you would dare insinuate otherwise.”

Piotr laughs and helps you up. “We can start upstairs and work our way down.”

***

Cleaning with Piotr isn’t so bad. He carries his fair share of the workload, does things to their proper doneness, and is a firm supporter of blasting tunes while cleaning.

“Take! Me! On!” You bounce up and down in time with the beat while you clean the sliding glass doors in your bedroom that lead out to the balcony. “I’ll… be… gone! In a day or two!”

Behind you, Piotr laughs. He’s hauling out a trashbag from the bathroom –no doubt filled with the sheer amount of crumpled paper towels it takes to get the place sanitary again. “I see you are enjoying yourself.”

“Absolutely not. I’m suffering endlessly. I’m going to die any minute now.” And then, to prove you point, you flop to the floor dramatically (taking care to use your powers to cushion your landing).

Piotr lets out a choked gasp, then clutches at his chest. “You keep scared me!”

You look up at him and laugh. “You know I can catch myself! You’ve seen me do that before!”

“Changes nothing!” He lets out a ragged breath, hand still pressed over his heart. “I could have heart attack.”

You giggle, then lift yourself off the floor with a swirl of wind. You land nimbly on your toes before him and wrap your arms around his waist. “Aw, now who’s being dramatic?”

“I fail to see how concern for your well-being is dramatic!”

You suppress a grin, opting to pop up on the balls of your feet and kiss him instead. “I’m very sorry I scared you, baby.”

“Is okay.” He kisses you gently, then gazes down at you with a rueful smile on his lips. “What am I going to do with you, myshka?”

“Dance with me?” You flash him an impish smile, then start bouncing in time to the music again.

Piotr chuckles, then takes your hands in his and bops along with you.

The two of you dance around the room –well, as much as what you’re doing can be called dancing. You sing the lyrics of the song to each other, not sticking to any particular key or tempo.

You laugh when Piotr lifts you into his arms, bridal style, then squeal in delight when he spins the two of you around.

It’s perfect.

***

Day Three

You wake up to the sound of Piotr’s phone chirping –because, even on vacation, he still keeps a daily morning alarm.

He groans as he comes to, then laughs when you roll over him and shut off his alarm for him. “Well, good morning to you, too.”

You set his phone back on his nightstand, then straddle his hips and plant your hands against his brawny chest. “You’re not making me clean today.”

Piotr smirks up at you, bushy eyebrow raising in challenge. “Oh?”

“We’re spending today in this bed,” you continue. “Just you” –you tap his chest—“and me, and as few clothes as possible. Sound good?”

He pretends to mull it over, even has he takes off the shirt he’d been sleeping in. “Are we allowed bathroom and meal breaks?”

“I’ll allow it.”

“Ah, very generous. Thank you, benevolent myshka.”

“You’re very welcome.” You giggle when he grins –then let out a delighted yelp when he rolls suddenly, pinning you between him and the bed. You sigh as he kisses you, eyes fluttering shut. You arms wind around his neck, holding him against you while his hands smooth down your body.

***

Day Four

Cabin fever starts setting in between the third and fourth day. There’s only so many chores you can do, only so many papers you can grade (and you’re out of papers to grade, which doesn’t help your case), only so much sex you can have before you’re gonna start losing your mind.

Fortunately, Piotr is well-attuned to you and your mental states –meaning he notices that you’re getting twitchy before you dip into pyromania to keep yourself entertained.

“We should do something fun today,” he says during breakfast. He spreads some sour cream over his plate of blinis, then adds cottage cheese and sausage meat. “Perhaps play some video games. Ellie has been pestering me to play some multi-people games with her and Yukio.”

“Could be fun,” you say before stuffing your mouth full with Nutella-covered blini. You swallow, then ask, “What did she want to play?”

“Ah… she had two. I think… Falling Guys and Among Us?”

A slow, wicked grin stretches across your place. Fuck yeah. “Let her know we’re in.”

***

Piotr, unfortunately, turns out to be none too good at Fall Guys.

“No!” He wails, then flops back against the couch when he gets thrown off a platform and into the slime. “I could not run away!”

“You have to anticipate the enemy’s movements,” Ellie says over Discord. She’s already qualified and is spectating you and Yukio. “Predict their strategy, then counter.”

“I think it is less strategy and more ‘giant hands do not play nice with tiny controller,’” Piotr grumbles good-naturedly.

“Or maybe you got your butt kicked like a scrub,” Ellie fires back.

“I never contested that,” Piotr chuckles.

“Alright,” you say, eyes glued on your pink and yellow striped player. “I’m almost there, there’s plenty of slots left –no, you fucking pigeon! Let me go!”

“Language,” Piotr murmurs between bouts of laughter.

“It’s always a pigeon!” Ellie groans. “Fucking skyrats.”

“Language, NTW.”

You qualify for the next round (no thanks to the damn pigeon, who qualifies, too). Egg Scramble is next, and you wind up facing off against Ellie and Yukio for the win.

“Damn it!” There’s the sound of something hitting the floor –most likely Ellie throwing her controller—when she and Yukio get booted out. “Yellow always loses!”

“Is that it?” you ask while the loading screen plays. “Are we at the final round yet?”

“There’ll be one more,” Yukio says. “To finish whittling down the competitors.”

Sure enough, there’s a round of Tip-Toe –which you get through by the skin of your teeth—and then you and eight other players are sent to the finale.

“Okay, Hex-A-Gone. You’ll want to just hop from tile to tile,” Ellie advises you while the level loads. “It makes the tiles last longer.”

“Don’t be afraid to drop a couple levels at first,” Yukio adds. “You can carve out one of the lower levels, meaning anyone that falls above you will have further to go and will be more likely to get out.”

“I appreciate it, but don’t expect any miracles,” you say, laughing self-deprecatingly.

Piotr kisses the top of your head. “You can do this, myshka.”

You follow the girls’ advice; you let yourself drop down two levels, then start hopping from tile to tile to start carving out the platform.

“One guy’s already out!” Ellie announces. “You’ve got this!”

“Shit! I fell!”

“That’s okay,” Yukio reassures you. “Find a decent mass of tiles and hop, don’t run. Make them last.”

“The pigeon grabbed another player,” Piotr marvels, shaking his head.

“Yeah, well, they both died, so fat lot of good it did them,” Ellie mutters.

You keep going, bounce from brightly colored hexagon to brightly colored hexagon.

“Only four left!” Ellie lets out a whoop. “Holy shit, you’re gonna make it!”

“Don’t jinx me!” you laugh as you dodge another player’s attempt to grab you. “Don’t jinx me!”

“Three left –two! It’s just you and one other guy!”

“You’ve got this, Y/N!” Yukio cheers.

You dive for a clump of tiles –and miss. “No!” You groan, then laugh as your character plummets into the pink slime. “Damn. I’m never going to do that good ever again.”

Piotr wraps an arm around your shoulders in a conciliatory hug. “You did wonderful job, myshka.”

“He’s right. That was really good. The winner fell a few seconds after you, so it was basically a coin toss as to who was gonna get the crown,” Ellie says while the winner’s animation plays on screen.

“Yeah! Great job!” Yukio congratulates you.

“Wanna do another round?” Ellie asks as she flicks between skins and accessories for her avatar.

Yukio laughs lightly. “Baby, we were going to get lunch.”

“Oh, right.”

“Perhaps we can try other game after lunch,” Piotr suggests. “‘Fall Guys’ is okay, but makes me too dizzy.”

“Yeah, sure. Text me when you guys are done eating.”

***

Among Us doesn’t go much better for Piotr, if only because he doesn’t adhere to the strategy of the game. He does his tasks without fail –which usually leaves him alone, and thus a prime target for killing or pinning a murder on. He’s also a terrible liar, which makes it easy to tell when he is the impostor.

You laugh as Piotr’s little red spaceman goes floating into space. “I honestly feel bad.”

“I don’t,” Wade says (he and Nate hopped on the Discord call when Yukio sent them an invite). “Pay for some acting classes, Chrome Dome! Give us a challenge, at least.”

Piotr starts grumbling in Russian, but it gets cut off when the round starts up again.

(You all still wind up losing because Nate’s the other impostor and racks up bodies like nobody’s business.)

“I’m still waiting for when Ellie and Dad get the impostor role together,” you comment as the defeat screen flashes on your laptop screen.

“What, so we all die in five minutes?” Wade grumbles. “So we can suffer the agony of betrayal and not honoring trust again?”

“It’s just a game, Wade,” Nate sighs. “And I apologized already.”

“Is our relationship ‘just a game’ to you, Natey? I gave you an alibi –and then you shanked me in the shower like rejected prison bitch!”

“Language, Wade,” your husband pipes up, voice world-weary. “Please.”

You all start another round once Wade calms down –which, admittedly, takes a while and a great deal of coaxing from Nathan. You grin when you see that you’re an impostor alongside Yukio –then giggle to yourself when a plan pops into your mind.

You start stalking Piotr around the map. You fake doing tasks alongside him, acting as his shadow as he treks around the map. On the corner of your screen, you watch your kill timer wind down, then wait for the right moment once it runs out, and—

Downstairs, in his art studio, your husband lets out an indignant scream when your character murders his.

You fall back onto the bed and cackle.

***

Day Five

The squall rages on outside. The world is practically buried in snow. It’s a sea of white outside your bedroom windows, blinding and sterile.

You peer at the swaths of snow blanketing every inch of ground, every tree branch, and every shrub, then nestle further under the blankets. “Ugh. I don’t even want to get out of bed today.”

Piotr chuckles, then wraps an arm around your waist. “How come?”

“Have you seen what it’s like outside? It’s disgusting!”

“I thought you liked snow.”

“I do. That’s how you know it’s bad.” You sigh as you eye the fat, fluffy flakes falling from the sky. “I wish I could, like, go outside. Go to a store or something. Leave the house.”

“Is not safe to drive yet.”

“I know, I know.” You sigh. “Is it bad that I miss the color green?”

“Nyet. Is normal.”

You smile, just a little, when Piotr kisses the back of your head. You roll over to face him. “Can we build a blanket fort today?”

He raises an eyebrow. “What… here? In bedroom?”

“Yeah. We can make it look all pretty, and snuggle in bed, and watch movies, and have sex…”

“Bozhe ty moi.” Piotr snorts, then takes a moment to study your face, your eyes. “You really want blanket fort?”

“Kind of, yeah. I just… I want something new to look at.”

The corner of his mouth turns up in a soft smile. He presses his lips against your forehead. “Alright, myshka. Let’s make fort.”

***

“When a man and a woman see each other and like each other, they ought to come together. Wham. Like a couple of taxis on Broadway.”

You let out a content, relaxed sigh, then wriggle closer to Piotr.

The fort, admittedly, is simple –but you don’t mind. While you were taking a shower, Piotr assembled the whole thing, just to give you a little surprise.

He’d brought up a couple floor lamps from the main floor, then clipped some fairy lights to them before draping the largest quilt in the house over top to make the room. He’d pinned some throw blankets to either side of the quilt to make the sides, then made the bed and assembled the pillows so the two of you could have a nice, cozy, comfy den to watch movies in.

The recurring, delighted thought of ‘he made it for me; he made it for me because he knew I wanted one’ loops around in your brain like a bumblebee drunk on fermented crab apples. You grin, then loop your arms around Piotr’s neck and kiss his cheek.

He grins, cheeks flushing ever so slightly. “What was that for?”

“You made me a blanket fort.”

“You asked for one.”

“Yeah, but you made it for me. You could’ve just waited until we could both work on it.”

He shrugs, lips curving into a soft, pleased smile. “I wanted to see look on face. You were very happy.”

“Correction: I am very happy.” You kiss the tip of his nose, then his lips. “I love you, Piotr.”

“And I love you, Y/N.”

***

Day Six

You know it’s bad when you wake up before Piotr.

You look over at your husband, who’s still slumbering away next to you –and sawing some logs, no less—then out at the winter hellscape outside, and decide there’s only one thing for it.

You’re channeling your inner Great British Bake Off contestant and demolishing the kitchen.

***

Piotr comes downstairs around ten in the morning –which is a miraculous amount of sleep in time for him—but by then, the damage has already been done.

There’s a cake cooling on the counter (you’d found a box of cake mix in the back of the pantry and decided to use it as a warm-up. The mixer is working overtime on a double batch of sugar cookies –plus there’s already chocolate chip cookie dough chilling in the fridge.

You look up from the cookbook you’d been perusing –you were thinking pie next—and flash your husband a slightly sheepish grin as he gapes at the kitchen. “Uh… good morning?”

“Myshka…”

“I made cake.”

“I can see that.” Piotr drops his heads into his hands and makes a noise somewhere between a groan and a laugh. “Why?”

“Because being trapped inside is stressing me out and I want to cope by eating my weight in desserts.”

Piotr sighs, then lifts his head. He eyes the mixer, then the increasingly sheepish expression on your face. “How much is that?”

“In the bowl or in the fridge?”

“Bozhe ty moi.”

“Look, the way I see it, we can share—”

“You have that much correct. We do not need five million cookies.”

“Excuse you, I’m only making three million. Also, do you know where the lard is?”

Piotr’s face scrunches up. “Lard? Why—”

“I wanna make pie.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “We already have cake. And goodness knows how many kinds of cookies.”

“But those aren’t pie.” You smile impishly at him. “Plus, like, pie has fruit, so it’s good for you. You like fruit. Think about how good it’ll be to eat something with fruit after all the cake, and the cookies…”

“Or I could just eat fruit.” He sighs, resigned and slightly frustrated, when you bat your eyelashes at him. “I will check pantry.”

***

Day Seven

“—as of today, authorities are lifting the ban on nonessential travel—”

“Yes!” You launch yourself into the air, twirling around and pumping your fists before landing lightly on the couch once more. “Finally!”

Piotr laughs and shakes his head. “What, is staying inside with me so terrible?”

“Absolutely not.” You crawl across the couch and into his lap, then give him a loud smooch. “I have enjoyed every single day of your company. However, you’ve got about fifteen minutes before I start repainting the walls out of sheer boredom.”

Piotr bursts into raucous guffaws. He puts a hand over his eyes, shoulders and stomach shaking with each laugh. He sighs, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes as minute giggles slip past his lips. “Well, we do need to restock on food. And flour and butter, since someone decided to open bakery yesterday.”

You pointedly ignore the pies and full cookie jar sitting on the kitchen counter. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He snorts, then pats your thigh. “Get dressed, myshka. We will go shopping.”

“Fuck yeah!” You zip up the stairs.

Downstairs, you can hear Piotr start laughing again.

#sass writes #piotr rasputin x reader #colossus x reader #nathan summers x wade wilson #negasonic teenage warhead x yukio #heavy on the fluff #because this year has been a shitload of angst #and quite frankly im done with it #deadpool fanfiction #x men fanfiction

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anakin-danvers · 4 years

Text

to wish upon a star

Rex x gender neutral!reader

Request: “For a fic, from prompt list #2, "Look! A shooting star! Make a wish," with any character you want to write from the Star Wars prequel trilogy? (Not entirely sure who you write for, do I'll leave it up to you.)” as requested by @valkyriesandbrokenhalos

Description: While on a mission in your home world, you take the time to enjoy the night sky. To your surprise, a certain Clone Captain decides to join you.

Word count: ~2.2 k

Warnings: Fluff. This is pure and utter all fluff. Some drinking! Tinyyyyy bit of angst if you squint to see it. Also, first time writing for our boy Rex so please be kind!

A/N: I decided to do Rex for this fic after a suggestion from @acnini (also special shoutout to her for beta reading 💖)! I hope you all like it, especially you Aro! Thank you for participating in my celebration! 🥳💗

P.S. I have another Rex request I am working on which will most likely be a part 2 for this!!

tags: @acnini , @catsnkooks , @kaminobiwan

—

Sitting in a dinner hall in a table full of tipsy clones was not what you imagined you’d be doing when General Skywalker told you to pack your bag for the mission this morning. But here you are, in your home planet, eating delicacies you’d only dreamt of as a child.

Music bounces off the walls, not loud enough to hurt your ears, but definitely loud enough to make it hard to think. You look around, feeling a bit overwhelmed with the setting you are in. Usually, you wouldn’t be attending these sorts of things; your position as an engineer for the 501st allowed you to stand on the sidelines, focus on your job and nothing more. But this is a special mission. The meeting General Skywalker has is with none other than the head of foreign operations of your home world Elzu.

The small planet could have been as beautiful as Naboo, were it not for the exploitation of natural resources by the government. By the time Elzu joined the Republic, it was drastically divided. Those who had been part of the group exploiting the resources are still the ones in power now. The rest are left to fend for themselves, many immigrating to other planets in search of a better livelihood. Your parents were part of the latter group, taking you and your siblings to Coruscant when you were about 9 years old. Thanks to their sacrifice and hard work, you now have the job you have.

So when General Skywalker asked if you’d be willing to join him and the 501st to the meeting as a point person for all things Elzu, you were hesitant. Elzu held many bittersweet memories, and you’d only been back a handful of times since your family had left all those years ago. General Skywalker had sensed your hesitation, and asked if instead you could help by giving him a list of the customs of the planet. However, as you were writing the list, you thought back to all the ways Skywalker and the 501st had helped you get to where you are, and knew that the least you could do was help with the trip in person. Though now that you’re here, you’re starting to wish you’d just stuck to the list.

The boisterous laugh of Fives rips you from your thoughts. You blink a few times in an attempt to refocus on the present. You turn to look at Fives, who’s sitting at your table, in an attempt to see what he’s laughing at. When your eyes travel around the other clones in your table and settle on a rather flustered looking Dogma, you have an idea of what Five’s source of entertainment currently is.

In spite of your otherwise uncomfortable feelings, you can’t help but smile. It was rare that the clones of the 501st were so at ease while on a mission. Seeing them all gathered in the main dinner hall enjoying good food made you happy, especially knowing this type of mission would be one of a kind.

The eating and socializing continues, and though you converse with the clones around you, you mostly stay quiet. After deciding you’d had enough to eat, you excuse yourself and walk out of the dinner hall.

You hate to admit it, but the palace you’re currently in is gorgeous. The large and intricate structure was built from different Elzian resources, Elzian marble being the most predominant. As you mindlessly walk down the hallway, you stay close to the wall, the smooth walls leaving a cool sensation on your fingertips. You keep walking around, not really knowing where you intend on going. That is, until you spot a sliver of the night sky.

Your feet make their way to the landing deck on its own. It isn’t until you feel the cool night breeze on your skin that you realize just how hot it is inside. Letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, you step out onto the seemingly unused landing deck. You almost gasp at the sight; the height of the deck makes you feel as if you’re in the sky.

If there was one thing you’d always miss most about Elzu, it’s the sky. It’s easy to forget that there’s even a sky in Coruscant due to the endless bustle of traffic. But that isn’t the case here. No, here, the sky is clear, the stars densely decorating it to look like the most royal of sparkling gowns.

You take a seat directly on the landing deck, sprawling your legs out in front of you and placing your hands on the durasteel ground. Maker, you can almost reach out and touch the stars, pick them like the fruit of a tree, with how close they seem.

“Beautiful night.”

If you weren’t sitting, you would have jumped at the sudden voice behind you. However, as the initial shock leaves you, you recognize the voice, a deep honey voice you never get tired of hearing.

Footsteps approach you, and you can feel them under your palms. They stop as two white and blue armored legs appear next to you. Your eyes follow the legs up to their owner’s face, the brown skin and blonde hair of your favorite person making the feeling of a thousand pairs of wings erupt in your stomach.

“Rex.”

“How are you, nau?”

At the sound of his tone, you know he can tell you’re not feeling your best. You also know there’s no point in trying to convince him otherwise.

“I’m doing okay, given the circumstances,” you say.

Lightly dropping his helmet to his side, he takes a seat next to you. You look at him as he mimics the way you’re sitting, legs spread out in front of him, hands on either side of him. And honestly, you can’t help but admire just how beautiful he looks.

Your eyes move from where you see his legs brushing your own, landing instead on his face. You find him looking at you, concern etched onto his features.

“You know how I feel about this place, Rex. It doesn’t hold the best memories,” you finally say.

“I know,” he simply says.

He knows. Of course he knows. He knows because he’s been by your side when you’ve had a few too many drinks at 79’s and spilled all about your childhood hardships. He knows because he’s been by your side when you try to discreetly get information on how the less fortunate of Elzu are holding up with the war. He knows because he’s always been there, with you.

Relief washes over you when you realize you don’t have to explain all the feelings caused by being on Elzu. Bringing up your legs to hug them to your chest, you look up at the sky again, the smile from earlier returning.

“Have you ever heard of shooting stars?”

“Shooting stars?” At his question, you nod. “I haven’t, nau.”

“Well you’re in for a treat tonight.”

His brow raises, and a faint smile paints his face. “Is that right?”

You nod again. “Elzu is known for its shooting stars, sometimes called flying stars. The people of Elzu believe they’re the souls of beings who have passed all around the galaxy as they make their way to their final resting spot. Legend has it they grant wishes.”

Rex laughs lightly, not in a mocking way, but rather in a surprised way. For someone who’s usually surrounded by so many facts, Rex doesn’t expect you to be so invested in old tales.

“Hey, I’m being serious!” you say, a laugh coming out of you as well. “I used to make a wish every night when I was a kid.”

Rex won’t ask what you wished, you know that. He doesn’t want to impose, pour salt on the wound that is already being constantly poked at while being here in Elzu. But either way, you continue, part of you needing to tell him what you wished for all those years ago.

“I’d initially wish for childish things; a new toy or the chance to taste one of those many pastries they have inside. But then the guilt would creep in, and instead I’d wish for the star to bring my family and I stability. Not riches, those weren’t necessary, just stability. Food on the table, a roof over our heads, shoes on our feet. And the next night I’d do the same again: wish for something childish then scrap it for a worthwhile wish.”

As you finish, you don’t know what you expect Rex to say. You don’t know if you even expect him to say anything. And initially he doesn’t, he sits there next to you in silence looking up at the same sky you’d stare at endlessly as a child.

“Ca’tra.”

You turn to look at him, the word foreign to your ears. For the most part, you knew the phrases of his native Mando’a he’d speak around you. Nau, for example, was what he called you, a nickname of sorts. He’s told you it means light, a nod to the way you two initially met during a blackout on a ship you’d been working on, a flashlight in hand as you bumped in face first to his chest. But ca’tra you didn’t know, so you waited for him to continue.

“It means ‘night sky’,” he explains, and you make a mental note to add that to the list of Mando’a words you have written on your data pad. “I often gazed up at the night sky back in Kamino growing up. It brought me calm whenever I’d feel...uneasy.”

“Ca’tra.” You test the word in your mouth, hoping you pronounced it correctly. At his smile and nod, your heart blooms with pride.

“And though we have no word for shooting star, we do have ka’ra, which means stars.”

Another word to add to the list, you think.

Your eyes go back to the sky, and almost as if on queue, you see the flash of light that filled you with hope as a child.

“Look! A shooting star! Make a wish,” you say, closing your eyes to mentally make your own. You wish for progress in the war with as little casualties as possible, you wish for his safety. A whisper of a thought adds another part to the wish: I wish for Rex to stay by my side.

You open your eyes slowly, glancing over at Rex to see if he’s done with his wish. Only, you don’t find him with his eyes closed as you’d had them. He’s not even looking up at the sky. No, he’s looking at you.

For a split second, you forget how to breathe at the sight of his beautiful eyes on you. Taking a small breath, you speak.

“Did you make a wish?” You don’t intend for your voice to be a whisper, but with the way he’s looking at you, you don’t manage anything else.

Rex nods. “Yes, I did.”

You want to ask what it is, but know that the way wishes come true is by keeping them to yourself.

“Well,” you say, your hand seemingly moving on its own will as it lands on top of his. “I hope your wish comes true.”

“I hope so too,” he responds.

You turn back to look at the sky, your hand still on Rex’s. And maybe it’s the glass of Elzian wine you drank, or the fact that you’re looking up at the night sky you spent your whole childhood wishing under, or even the drunken state Rex causes you to be in regardless of the amount of alcohol in your system, but you think you know what Rex wished for. Well, you hope you know what he wished for.

As if to put your mind at ease and to confirm your thoughts all at once, Rex moves his hand so that he’s now holding yours. The cool feeling of the durasteel you both are sitting on makes for a sharp contrast to just how warm his hand feels on your own. Before you have time to process his actions, he hits you with another jolt of electricity when he softly squeezes your hand.

You don’t have to look at him to know he’s smiling, because you’re smiling too. You’re smiling the smile that only appears whenever Rex is with you, by your side, safe.

And as the two of you sit under the night sky, you don’t feel the guilt you’d expected to feel at the last addition to your wish. It’s a bit selfish, you admit, wishing for something exclusively for you. But you don’t, can’t feel guilt when all you feel is warm, kind love with Rex by your side.

When the next shooting star paints the sky, you once again wish for Rex to stay by your side, nothing more, nothing less.

#all I want is for rex to hold my hand while we look up at the night skyyyyy #hope you all enjoy!#chasity reaches 100!🥳#captain rex x reader #captain rex imagine #captain rex x you #captain rex x y/n #captain rex fanfic #captain rex fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #star wars fanfic #captain rex reader insert #userkarina #usernobie #chasity's work #my work #gender neutral reader #anakin-danvers work

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ahgaseda · 4 years

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dreams and desires | mark (got7)

↣ info: sexy, explicit

↣ a/n: a two can keep a secret drabble

↣ song: listen to “love is madness” by thirty seconds to mars

you are insane, my desire, a violent daydream, you are crazy, a perfect liar, said you’d save me...

Mark stopped the car on the gravel path, near the break in the trees. He didn’t say a word and neither did she as they both watched the sun go down over the coast.

He finally turned to look at her, seeing the sky painted between her lashes. Mark never imagined she would be here, in his car, by his side. Never had he laid eyes on a girl so beautiful.

She turns to him then, feeling his stare. He knows why she’s here. It’s no secret they’re both angry and hurt and desperate to get revenge.

But Mama always said vengeance was like holding fire in your hand and expecting the other person to get burned.

She didn’t care. The minute their parents revealed their engagement, she was on the path of retribution. And Mark was on the road to self-destruction.

Mark thought he would drown himself in alcohol, drink away his sorrows until he became numb to his pain. Maybe he would drown himself in her instead.

She felt her blood boil at the memory of their engagement party. Her father had given her no indication he was taking the next step and the announcement nearly knocked her off of her feet. He had no right to surprise her like that and he certainly had no right to disrespect her mother, resting in her grave.

Mark remembered how the two of them stood in the crowded hall, the party in full swing. Everyone was alight. Smiles in every corner. The newly engaged couple accepted congratulations endlessly.

But Mark stood there with his soon to be stepsister, unmoving, and with no joy to be found on their faces. And to rub salt in the wound, their parents never even looked for them among the sea of people.

She drifted to him, eyes full of tears and the words that fell from her mouth nearly broke his heart.

“Please, get me out of here.”

That was how she ended up in his car, next to him on a bluff in the middle of nowhere about to make a really bad decision. He knew he would take her anywhere she wanted to go.

He was relieved not to be alone.

He was glad someone shared in his wrath. And his hurt.

It was selfish, but Mark didn’t care. He had forgotten how it felt not to be lonely.

Mark reached over, taking her hand in his. He wanted to give her some gesture of solidarity. To let her know all those emotions colliding inside of her were no different in his own chest.

Without a word, she unbuckled her seatbelt and crawled into his lap.

Mark pushed his chair back, slipping his hands over her hips and guiding her to straddle him. She took his face between her palms and kissed him hard, like only he could save her.

Which wasn’t far from the truth.

The windows fogged over. The car rocked softly on the bluff. Bass steadily thrummed. Anyone who drove by could tell babies were being made.

Sweat and moisture made her hair cling to her neck. Still mostly clothed, she rode him with abandon.

Mark ripped her shirt just enough to bury his face in her breasts. His hands were heavy on her hips, kneading and pulling to match her rhythm.

This was self-indulgence, plain and simple. She felt empowered to be riding him. Mark thrust up to meet her, refusing to submit.

If only their parents could see, she thought. If only they knew what they had driven their kids to do.

Mark growled against her neck. Fuck, she made him so hard. He would take pleasure from her body night and day, if he had his way. She made him forget his pain.

Their lust was all-consuming, almost as powerful as their need to spite the ones who hurt them.

She rode him harder, finally making noise in his ear. Mark felt her nails dig into his skin and he hissed at the sting, though he would never make her stop.

Reckless, a little voice sang in her head.

Mark groaned when she met her end on top of him, cursing at how tightly she clenched around his cock. He gave her little time to catch her breath and grasped her waist to drill inside of her.

She howled with sensitivity, begging for him to find release, and Mark moaned in ecstasy when it finally came. She cradled his head to her chest, humming little nothings as he kissed between her breasts.

“Mark,” she whispered, tugging on his hair until he looked into her eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Turn on the AC. Crank up the music. And join me in the back seat.”

Mark nodded, never taking his gaze from her as she clambered off of him. He did as told and followed her without a second thought, mouth watering at the sight of her on her back with legs spread.

He made himself comfortable between her thighs and kissed her again, slipping his tongue inside her mouth.

Love all this anger out of me, she wanted to say.

Fuck all the pain out of me, he would have replied.

It was the start of an ill-fated secret and a dangerous addiction.

i never said that i would be your lover, i never said that i would be your friend, i never said that i would take no other...

Hey there, beautiful! If you enjoyed this, please leave a like or reblog or follow me! Or maybe buy me a coffee so I can keep writing? Or check out my masterlist here for more stories! Thanks for reading :) - Katya

This work is fictional and for entertainment purposes only, but is licensed and protected under a creative commons attribution-noncommercial-noderivatives 4.0 international license. Any instances of plagiarism will be dealt with accordingly. Do not re-post or translate without my permission.

#mine:drabbles #got7 smut #mark smut #mark tuan smut #mark scenario #got7 scenario #mark imagine #got7 imagine #mark tuan fanfic

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thelordofdarkreunion · 3 years

Text

Magnificent Scoundrels- The Arrival

Here we finally have it. All of the governments meet for the first time. If you want to see more of one particular person or group, or just have any cool ideas to throw in, ask away! Enjoy the story!

Mass Effect Galaxy

The Citadel

It had been rather the hectic week (and month) for the entire universe. Everyone had scrambled for information; the fight to find out exactly what to expect from their sudden new neighbors. Agents had been sent out, intelligence had been collected, reports had been made, and, out of the blue, one government, the Citadel Council, had invited most of the major players from the various galaxies to the negotiations table. Reactions had… varied. Greatly. But, in the end, all of the invitees had arrived on schedule.

Commander Shepard was quite glad the Council had taken his suggestion to beef up the Citadel Fleet seriously. The different governments had each arrived with their own starship or, in many cases, starships. The starships were as varied as the governments themselves. The Galactic Assembly had arrived in several plain metal, box-like starships, led by Adam Vir’s Omen. Respectable. Nothing the Fleet couldn’t handle.

The government from Quill’s home galaxy had shown in one rather small ship. He still didn’t know the government’s name. Curious. He quietly vowed to find out.

The United Federation of Planets had, too, arrived in a small fleet of their strange, saucer-strapped-to-engines starships led by James Kirk’s Enterprise. Once more, sensible. Respectable. Easily handled.

So too did both the Frontier Militia and Interstellar Manufacturing Corporation arrive. They had been directed to opposite docking bays, considering their history. A wise move. Someone had their head firmly on their shoulders.

Thomas Drake had led a small collection of luxury ships, his clients, into their docking bays. No problem. No military threat.

The UNSC had arrived in two ships. Blocky and boxy, they too were directed to their places without incident.

The New Republic arrived in a motley collection of ships in various shapes and sizes. One minor bureaucratic hassle later, they were docked.

It was, perhaps unsurprisingly, the last two that were a problem. Three massive, kilometer long Star Destroyers had heralded the arrival of the Galactic Empire. The largest ship in Shepard’s galaxy was the Destiny Ascension, also a kilometer long. It was the long held belief that no one could match it, as the requirements for building something bigger would be astounding. Now, the Empire had three such ships, each more powerful, with larger guns, internal fighter hangars, and enough troops inside to pacify a planet.

The next arrival had blown everyone else out of the water. The Imperium of Man had shown up in a six-and-a-half kilometer floating cathedral. Shepard had seen nothing like it, and didn’t quite understand why anyone would build a starship like that. It was as if someone had taken a gothic basilica, made it starship-sized, then slapped on an unholy amount of guns. Shepard didn’t know what was on board, either. Matter of fact, he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to know what was on board.

What’s more is, due to their large size and masters’ temperament, the Imperial ships would not and could not dock. So now they hung threateningly over the Citadel, turbo-lasers and lance batteries pointing menacingly into space. Shepard did not at all envy Matriarch Lidanya, captain of the Destiny Ascension, or, for that matter, any of the other fleet captains of the different governments. Tangling with the Chimaera or the Watch Eternal, the flagship of the Empire and the Imperium’s dreadnought respectively, was a daunting prospect.

So far as yet, no one had killed each other, a situation that Shepard fervently hoped would remain in place. Currently, he was standing outside the security gates, lounging next to various members of his crew and a very amused Adam Vir. Security was another hassle. The Council, quite reasonably, wanted the members of each delegation to surrender their weapons at the customs area. The delegates, also quite reasonably, did not want to go unarmed into unknown territory. Things had come to a head after the Imperium of Man had shown up with a cadre of heavily armed and heavily armored troopers who looked positively excited at the prospect of going full rock-and-roll mode against everything moving. Citadel Security had tried to disarm them, the Tempestus Scion bodyguards had almost shot the Turian security officer, Cain had calmed things down, C-Sec had once more tried to disarm them, the Galactic Empire had pointed out that their black-armored Death Trooper bodyguards would also not be surrendering their weapons, C-Sec had called for Spectre backup, both Shepard and Cain had convinced everyone else to let the bodyguards keep their weapons, abielt under the watchful eyes of armed C-Sec agents, and Peter Quill and Adam Vir had a massive laugh at the commotion.

Currently, Thomas Drake and his employers (the Merchant’s Guild, remembered Shepard) were going through security with little hassle. The generally old and quite calculating-looking members of the Guild had no weapons, and Drake and his armsmen were being remarkably compliant. They went through quickly, and Drake slid up to Shepard and Vir.

“So… how many weapons did you manage to smuggle in?” asked Shepard conversationally. Drake sniffed.

“Enough to kill, oh, at least everyone within sight,” replied Drake as if he were talking about the weather. Shepard grunted, then turned towards the security checkpoint to watch the New Republic diplomats enter.

“You mind telling me how?” he asked. Drake gave one of his devious grins.

“A good magician never reveals their secrets!” Vir rolled his eyes in response. Security was, unfortunately, or, depending on your point of view, fortunately, not quite perfect. Vir had been allowed to take his Iron Eye suit through, Cooper any other Pilots coming through were still wearing their Pilot Suits, Master Chief was in full combat gear (so, his normal clothing), Drake had god-only-knew-what on him, and almost everyone was allowed to retain their sidearms.

That wasn’t even including the super powered people now walking around the flowing streets of the Citadel. Shepard had known of super soldiers (indeed, several of the Scoundrels themselves could be considered as such), but people with what could be considered superpowers were a little more unnerving. There were biotics where he came from: individuals who could create and manipulate mass effect fields using their bodies. They had super powers, in a sense. But some of the people here… Along with the New Republic came an unassuming man wearing a simple black tunic and knee length black boots. Shepard knew, with information from Solo, that this was Luke Skywalker, the last Jedi, someone who could move things with their mind and do all sorts of other ridiculous things. With the delegation from Quill’s galaxy came a blond haired woman wearing a blue and red jumpsuit; a superhero, if he’d ever seen one, an ebony-skinned, dark-haired diplomat who, despite his laid back attitude, simply screamed ‘deadly!’, and Thor, the literal Norse god of thunder. How, precisely, was one supposed to fight something like that? Just go up and politely ask a lighting god to stop? Unlikely.

He was snapped out of his reverie by a nudge from Vir.

“Hey. They’re starting the tour,” he said, and pointed to a Council diplomat leading the delegates through the Citadel, narrating like a tour guide as she did. Shepard almost laughed aloud at the sight of the various groups walking together, from stark uniforms to over-elaborate dress robes. He gave a nod to his crew members, and they hefted their weapons and slowly followed the tour. Vir talked as they walked.

“You know, this is great,” he started with an excited grin. “This place, all these species working together, talking together, living together… it’s, well, great. I said that already, didn’t I?” He barely paused for breath, then continued. “The GA has a space station for diplomacy, a… neutral ground, for lack of a better word, but nothing like… this.” He gestured at the false sky, the massive open areas, and the breathtaking architecture. “I’ve never seen anything like this before.” Garrus Valkarian chuckled behind them and Shepard gave a rueful shake of his head.

“Adam Vir. Never change,” he said as he straightened out to follow the tour. They walked slowly, following the delegates at a safe distance. Vir dropped back as Sunny slid up to him.

“What do you think?” he murmured. She glazed, amused, at some of the diplomats and bodyguards giving her wary looks. The Drev were by far the biggest and tallest race here, something she was endlessly entertained by.

“They seem nice enough. The Citadel Council shouldn’t be a problem. Most of the more diplomatic ones should be fine as well.” She gave a low chortle. “I’m not even afraid of the Imperium. Cain ought to put in a good word for us.” Vir smiled back.

“True. But, just in case, have Kanon stand by.” Sunny nodded.

“Don’t worry. The Drev clan will be ready to go.” And with full weapons, too. No one thought spears were a significant enough problem to warrant disarmament. More fool them, then.

The members of the Merchant’s Guild were barely listening to the guide; their looks instead shrewdly appraising everything in sight. Martin Crossgrow turned to Drake, lips pursed in calm consideration.

“How much do you think it would cost to build this place?” Drake didn’t hesitate with an answer.

“Fifty to seventy-five quadrillion Federal credits to build a station exactly like this. Thirty billion to build a warhead powerful enough to blow it all up.” Crossgrow gave a low, humorless laugh in response, and turned to one of his immaculately tailored colleagues.

“You see, this is why I hire Drake. He knows what he’s talking about.”

Outwardly, Commissar Ciaphas Cain was an epitome of calm. Inwardly, he was roiling. There were just so. Many. Xenos. Everywhere. Walking openly in the streets as if they didn’t have acare in the world, eating, shopping, even mingling with humans. Even the supposedly pro-human Galactic Empire was being led by a tall, blue-skinned humanoid alien wearing a neatly pressed Admiral’s uniform. The Imperial delegation, of which he was security chief, was being escorted by even more xenos. Of course, since he was security chief, if anything went wrong, he would have to deal with it. Wonderful.

“Hello, Ciaphas.” The voice broke his thoughts, and he turned to face one of the robed diplomats he was assigned to protect. A rush of emotions and memories was brought to the surface: an undercover cabernet singer with a beautiful voice, stinking tunnels filled with genestealers and untrustworthy criminals, a figure in golden power armor massacring her way through hordes of enemies.

“Amberley?” he asked, flabbergasted. The diplomat threw back her hood, revealing a familiar face, framed by blond neat blond hair. Amberley Vail, Inquisitor of the Ordo Xenos, smiled up at him.

“Surprised to see me here?” she asked.

“Uh… yes, actually,” replied Cain. Vail laughed.

“Did you really think diplomats would be sent to a meeting this important without… oversight?” Cain’s stomach turned to ice. HIs palms started to tingle, a sure sign that something was wrong.

“What do you mean by that?” he inquired tentatively. Vail subtly nodded to another robed diplomat.

“You remember Rasmus, don’t you?” The robed man turned, face hidden beneath the robe and a neat black beard, and nodded once. Of course Cain remembered; how could he forget that horrible business? More memories flashed through his head. An insane governor, selling his soul into eternal damnation for the promise of pleasure, hacking his way through living shrubbery, Jurgen and Amberely hot on his heels, and, of course, Inquisitor Rasmus Vekkman fighting an unholy abomination with strange, archaic weapons. Vail nodded once more and gestured to another delegate.

“And of course, we need to complete the triumvirate of Ordos Majoris. You’ve never met her, but that’s Inquisitor Melflic Aetius of Hereticus,” finished Vail. Cain was fairly certain his blood had frozen in his veins. One Inquisitor was a problem. Three though… That was three individuals with unlimited authority and the full backing of the Imperium of Man. Three Inquisitors on the same mission was completely unheard of. Apparently, his thoughts did not register on his face, for Amberley continued.

“On the Watch Eternal we also have a regiment of Tempestus Scions.” Cain was only saved from stopping short, jaw hanging out, by his long-learned masterful control over his emotions. Scions, also known as Tempestus Stormtroopers, were the deadliest and highest-trained normal human soldiers within the Imperium. Now there was an entire regiment of them aboard the starship hanging in orbit above the Citadel. He stopped short for a moment at Vail’s next words. “And a full Deathwatch Kill-team,” she stated nonchalantly. The Deathwatch was something else entirely. Made up of Space Marines, eight foot tall genetically engineered, power armor-wearing transhuman super soldiers, the Deathwatch was the Inquisition’s specialized anti-alien group. Cain could understand Scions. Perhaps an Inquisitor, and a small group of Space Marines. But now there were three Inquisitors, a full regiment of Scions, and, by what he inferred, a very beefed up and probably quite veteran Kill-team. Oh dear Emperor, this is going to end badly.

“Anything else I should know about?” he all but hissed at Amberley. She pursed her lips, considering.

“I suppose. You are our chief of security, after all,” she replied, her eyes full of mischief. And what a terrible idea it was to take that job, Cain fumed. “There’s also an Assassinorum Execution Force.” Is it even possible to be any more surprised? ‘Cause if it is, I’m about to win an award. Cain knew little about the mysterious and highly lethal Officio Assassinorum; hell, most citizens didn’t even know it existed. What he did know, however, was that it trained some of the most potent killers in the galaxy. That’s all he ever wanted to know, for people who went polking into the workings of such organizations rarely returned alive.

“Do you mind telling me exactly why there are so many deadly groups here?” he muttered, conscious of drawing too much attention. Vail smiled again, but this time there was nothing in her eyes save the coldest ice.

“Of course, my dear Ciaphas. It’s simple. All of these xenos better be honest and on the level. Or else.”

And there it is. Sort of a cold war situation going on; every faction is trying to be as diplomatic as possible and present the best face possible, but if something goes wrong, their all dropping in their most elite soldiers. Next story we’ll go over more reactions and explore some of the people and groups I didn’t cover here. If you have any comments, criticisms, concerns, questions, or requests, feel free to ask!

#magnificent scoundrels #story #my story #writing #my writing #fanfic #crossover #mass effect #warhammer 40k #guardians of the galaxy #star wars

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