#I kept looking at it trying to tweak things. I need to get a more consistent rendering style

[am-i-interrupting]

Across the River | Viktor x Jinx’s Older Sibling

Chapter 5: Defying the Laws

Summary: After the explosion and disappearance of Vi, you take your little sister across the river to Piltover. You struggle to keep the two of you afloat but manage to get Jinx to the academy. This is where she procures an internship that changes your lives.

Five months into her assistant career is what it took before Jinx saw the beginnings of Hextech. Jayce had been the one to offer to show her what Hextech looked like in practice after realizing that she’d only been practicing in theory.

Viktor shocked his head with a small smile when Jayce brought out the stabilizer they’d made those many years ago. Now tweaked to better preform than it once had.

Jinx was the one who laid the orb into the contraption. It slipped from her fingertips and caught in her long nails before she gently let it plop into place.

Jayce turned the dial and it sparked to life before the room engulfed in blue for a moment. It twinkled out as things began floating.

“Turn it off,” Viktor said almost as soon as the room went back to its natural coloring.

“What?”

Viktor gestured towards Jinx’s. Her eyes were wide but not in the excited way more so in the hallowed, haunted way.

Her breathing was labored. It huffed out harshly. Like she’d been running for miles without a break.

Jayce quickly shut off the device. While Viktor and Jayce landed in their original places with grace, Jinx fell to the ground.

Her knees took the brunt of the fall as her hands came up to her head. She stared off into space.

“Jinx,” Jayce said softly as he approached her, his hand extended.

“No,” she said, voice cracking, “no.” Her head tipped forward against the ground. “It was a mistake.”

Jayce’s hand pressed against her shoulder. She bolted up and jerked away like he’d just slapped her. Tears were prickling at her eyes, waiting to fall.

“It was a mistake,” she repeated right before they fell.

She kept repeating the words to herself like a mantra.

“Go get her sister,” Viktor told Jayce.

Jayce looked between the two of them. Viktor gave a soft nod, a silent “I’ve got her.” Jayce bolted out of the door.

“I didn’t mean to,” Jinx said.

Viktor slid down into the floor, using his crutch to make sure he didn’t topple. Slowly, he placed it on the ground.

“I was just trying to help,” she said, a sob beginning to tear through her. “I was going to save them.”

Viktor sat with her on the cold floor.

The door to the shop didn’t normally open unless someone was getting something fixed or picking it up. It certainly never chimed open followed by hurried footsteps of someone who’d been running.

You looked over the automobile you were working on and saw none other than Jayce Talis looking frantic. Immediately you were on your feet.

“Jinx,” he said, “she needs you.”

“Kash, I’m gone!” you yelled as you ran to the door.

“Wait—“

“Jinx,” was all you said.

“Go,” Kash said, granting his permission. Not that you needed it.

It felt like it took forever to get to the Academy. Only when you were anxiously waiting in the elevator did you ask what happened.

“I don’t know,” Jayce said. “We were showing her some stuff with Hextech and she just started freaking out.”

“Shut up,” Jinx said in a quiet voice despite Viktor not saying a thing. “I was trying to save you!” Her head whipped around to behind her shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” Such a stark contrast to the yell that had just ripped through her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. It was a mistake.”

It was then that the door opened. Viktor didn’t turn to see who it was though from the sound of the footsteps, Jayce was certainly there so the other pair were bound to be you.

“Hey,” you said as you dropped to your knees next to Viktor and Jinx. “What’s wrong?”

“They won’t stop yelling,” Jinx said.

You extended your arms to her and she leaned into them. You cradled her close. You took out the pins in her hair and her braids fell down.

“You did nothing wrong,” you told her.

“I jinxed it,” she said through sobs wracking through her body. “I always do.”

“You don’t jinx anything.”

She kept muttering. You began to rock her. Softly shushing her before you began to sing.

“Dear friend, across the river

My hands are cold and bare

Dear friend, across the river

I’ll take what you can spare”

You continued on as Jinx’s sobs slowly began to fade.

“Mom,” she said.

She curled her arms tighter around you and stuck her face between your neck and shoulder. She didn’t care that she got axle grease on her skin. Your purple blue hair covered her face in a blanket of security.

She shaking it joined your soft singing.

“I ask if you a penny

My fortune it will be

I ask you without envy”

Viktor raised his head and looked up at Jayce. Jayce met his gaze.

There was clearly much neither new about their assistant. Much to learn. Careful waters to tread.

What had happened to this young woman? What had happened to the both of you? Why such an adverse reaction? So many questions and no answers.

It took a while before Jinx’s breathing went even and her eyes fell closed. Her hands that had a death grip on your clothes went lax.

“Show me what happened,” you said.

Viktor and Jayce shared a glance. Inhaling deeply, Jayce picked up Jinx from your grasp. He walked over to a small door that led to their break room of sorts. Inside was a couch that he laid her on.

Viktor stood and walked over to the stabilizer. He waited until Jayce clicked the door shut to begin fiddling with the dials.

The same series of events happened as the first time earlier in the day.

“Good job—“

One, two, three explosions.

“Claggor!”

A hand pushed you. Just as something few where you had been. The space now taken up by your friend. His goggles were knocked off his face. Blood splattered against them as you were thrown through the hole in the wall.

You fell down. At a rapid speed. Your head smashed into the pavement. Something was coming toward you from above. You tried to move out of the way.

Your world went dark.

Your eyes closed. Your jaw clenched. Your hand came up to block your face. You fell against a floor of tiles.

A hand was placed atop your own. Slowly you let it guide your hand away from your face.

A muffled voice surrounded you.

That hand was still on your own. You let it guide you to a firm surface. Up and down it went in a slow, steady rhythm. Your fingers twitched, something bunched beneath them.

You tried to focus on that rhythm. The feel of the soft. . . fabric(?) beneath your hand.

You found yourself wheezing out breathes in harsh huffs. You tried to steady it but the sharp burning behind your nose did nothing to help. Your leg curled up beneath you. You could feel the pain that should be long gone given the several year old scar but it never vanished.

“Breathe in,” a thickly accented voice instructed. “Breathe out. Good. Repeat. Breathe in. Breathe out. Very good.”

You followed the demands of the voice you distantly recognized.

When your eyes opened, you were faced with tiled floors. A pair of legs bent at the knees right beside yours. A white vest and tie against a red shirt. A long, dexterous artist’s hand pressed against yours.

“Are you back with us?” A different voice asked as the accented one continued on.

You nodded slowly. “Yeah, I think so,” your voice felt thick on your tongue. “Whatever that was, don’t show it to Powder again.”

“Powder,” the accented voice, which you now processed as belonging to Viktor, repeated. His voice curled nicely around the name.

You shook yourself. “Fuck. Jinx. Don’t show it to Jinx again.” You took a few more steadying breaths. “Whatever else you’ve been doing with Hextech, sure, but not that.”

“Can you explain what just happened?” Jayce asked.

“That,” you pointed to the contraption, “killed our family.”

Jayce and Viktor looked at each other, both with furrowed eye brows.

“How did. . .” Viktor’s voice trailed off.

“Wait a second,” Jayce muttered to himself. “There were four suspects, two boys and two girls. One with. . . blue hair. Did Jinx steal my prototype?”

“We’ve all stolen from a lot of people,” you said as you stood up. Viktor’s hand steadied your calf and thigh when you wobbled a bit. “I don’t keep track of from who.”

You brushed past Jayce and went directly to the room that held your sister.

“Stolen from a lot of people?” Jayce repeated.

Viktor grabbed his crutch and stood up, accepting Jayce’s offered hand. “You don’t know what it’s like in the Undercity,” Viktor reminded him. “You go home. I’ll stay with them.”

“Are you—“

“Go, Jayce,” Viktor said, a rare authority ringing in his tone. “I’ll stay with them.”

Slowly Jayce gathered his things and headed home for the night. Viktor knocked on the door with soft raps before he opened the door.

You were sitting in the floor, holding Jinx’s hand that hang from the couch in yours. It draped across your shoulder. You looked up at Viktor and then looked away.

He took a seat in the plush chair across from the two of you. He sighed as his aching bones relaxed just the slightest.

“When I was eight, I tried to steal food from some riverside restaurant. I wasn’t fast. I got caught,” he said. “I was ten when I attempted to steal again. It was after my parents died in the mines.”

“Are you trying to make me let my guard? Admit to something I’m not even sure she did,” that was a lie. You did know but no need to tell him that.

He shook his head, his lip went inward a bit as the edges tilted down. “No, no, I’m simply telling you I understand.”

You exhaled through your nose and leaned your head against Jinx’s arm.

Silence came between the two of you. It wasn’t harsh. It wasn’t kind. It just was.

There hasn’t been much silence in your life ever. Not in Piltover. Certainly not in the Undercity. It was nice.

Viktor broke it, “She called you mom. You’re not. . .?”

“No,” you said, voice barely above a whisper, “no. She doesn’t really remember our parents much but mom always smelled like axel grease, she sang that song, and we have the same color hair. When she’s out of it, sometimes she gets confused.”

He hummed. “How often is she ‘out of it?’”

“Often enough that I’m used to her talking to people who aren’t there. It’s rare that it gets this bad though,” you told him.

“And do you?”

“No,” you answered. “What happened happened when she was pretty young. I was lucky enough to be old enough to understand when everything happened, all the time. I guess that’s a benefit to being the oldest.”

“How much older are you?” he asked.

“About eight years, give or take.”

“Your family?”

“All dead. Mom and dad died during the battle at the bridge. I was thirteen, Jinx was five? Vander and. . . our siblings died in an explosion when she was ten.”

“That must have been difficult.”

“I don’t want your pity.”

“You don’t have it,” he said. “I understand. I don’t have siblings but my parents died when I was young. For about a year I was by myself before I was taken in by a man but that didn’t last,” he told you. You met his eyes, golden like honey. “She’s lucky to have you.”

“I think it’s the other way around,” you said.

“It can be both.”

“Thank you for staying with her,” you said. “A lot of people don’t.”

“Of course.”

He said it like it was so easy. Like it was nothing. Like you hadn’t had people yell at you when you were on the streets and she started muttering to herself that you needed to take her to her parents and get her evaluated as she started hitting her head.

He said it like it was simple.

Maybe with him it could be.

[lilliancdoodles]

Life is like the ocean, it goes up and down by @tastytoastz (Click for better quality, master post of all my art for this fic)

[s4bbatical]

Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want | Part 1. (Rivals Declan O'Hara x Reader 18+)

masterlist (part 1,2,3,4) Warnings: Profanities, sexual tension, alcohol and cigarette use.

Author's note: I'm not exactly staying on top of the timeline of rivals, bare this in mind as you read. Of course with any self inserts, it's an AU with a bit of tweaking. No smut involved in this chapter, just fluff until I post more parts. AGE GAP (22!Reader). Thanks for reading.

━━━━━━☆━━━━━━

It was your first week at the Corinium. You were a fresh-faced journalist straight out of Washington State University who had accepted an internship at the independent commercial television station in the county of Rutshire, England. Far from home and comfort, you strived to be the best at what you were asked to do. The pay was good, and the idea of being in another continent where anything was possible kept your drive at an all-time high. You were practicing your decorum quietly to yourself at your desk, fiddling with your pen.

"Already going mad, are you?" Your co-worker and new friend Seb asks, grinning as he puts down his homework on your desk.

You laugh awkwardly, crossing your leg over the other as you lean back to look up at the ginger. "If I have to hear Tony Baddingham cuss out another person because Declan O'Hara is too stubborn to take his lead," You quip, closing your own folder of paperwork. "I think I'll start drinking more." You exasperate, recalling the sudden outburst from Tony's office a mere five minutes ago. Seeing Declan O'Hara riled up was never a great sign, but you couldn't help but run your eyes over his sculpted arms when he took off his blazer in frustration.

"I think you need to start drinking more in general, y/n. You're in England now. We all have a problem." Seb comments, half-sitting on your desk. "You should come with us to Bar Sinister. It's owned by Basil, Tony's brother." He says, crossing his arms.

You raise a brow. "I thought we were assigned to get dirt on the next guest on Declan's and have it in by Monday. Wouldn't that cut into our research time?" You query.

Seb laughs. "You Americans are such workaholics." He shakes his head. "Come get a drink with us!" He pleas, hitting your arm lightly. "Those reputations aren't going anywhere. Besides, we're all going, you'll be the odd one out if you don't."

"All of you?" You say, looking across the room at Declan O'Hara. He's speaking to someone on the phone in his office, the blinds open enough to allow you for a peek. God, what a man he was.

"Yes, all of us. I can't speak for Tony or Declan, though." Seb hums, the feeling of disappointment washing over you. "I'd like to see you there, though." He adds, the both of you sharing a lingering gaze before he gets up and walks away.

If you didn't know any better, you'd think your colleague was flirting with you. You didn't mind it, really. Seb was attractive, and only a year younger than you. Unfortunately, you just had a taste something a little more aged. Everyone seemed to want to fuck each other in this office. You barely managed to avoid the claws of some of the older men yourself, not that you were complaining-- besides the fact none of them were Declan O'Hara.

You decide to stand up, grabbing ahold of your folder before boldly heading over to Mr. O'Hara's office. You slowly knock on the ajar door to get his attention before you step in.

"-We'll discuss this later. Goodbye." Declan says into his phone, hanging it up when he notices you. "Y/n, hello. What can I do for you?" He asks, putting his hands behind his back as he leans back in his chair.

Many things. You think to yourself, trying to look away from his stretched out torso before speaking. "I was just wondering if I could help you with anything else before I leave today Mister O'Hara? I just noticed you seem a bit stressed, maybe I could take something off of your plate if possible." You say, smoothing out your skirt.

He chuckles lightly, leaning forward to take a sip of his whiskey on the rocks. "Call me Declan, love. No need for so much professionalism." He sighs, your heart skipping a beat at his words of endearment as he runs a hand through his hair. "I'm 'fraid not. Tony's up my arse, and my wife's trying to throw this ridiculously expensive party for my son's birthday which also happens to be New Year's and..." He notices your glimmer of concern in your eyes, staring into them as if he got distracted. "I uh," He shakes his head. "Don't worry about it." He says, waving it off.

"I'm sorry, that does seem like an awful lot." You say, your cheeks reddening from his stare. "You don't deserve that, you know. The way Mister Baddingham treats you." You mutter, toying with the folder in your arms.

Declan chuckles, pulling out a cigarette and popping it into his mouth. "Try telling him that." He says wryly, lighting up the smoke.

"Well Declan, there's a group of us going to Bar Sinister later, if you'd like to unwind. God knows we both need it." You try to joke, laughing awkwardly as Declan gives you a look. You clear your throat, straighten your spine. "Sorry, just a suggestion." You mumble.

He laughs genuinely this time, inhaling his cigarette again. "You're funny, y/n. I thought it would be intolerable hiring an American journalist-"

"Hey!" You interject, gasping playfully.

"But!" Declan holds a hand up, stopping you from speaking further. "You're quite lovely to have around. I enjoy your presence." He says, smiling at you. "I hope you consider a permanent placement in the future."

Your face lights up, a big smile on your face now. "Thank you Mister- Declan." You correct yourself. He laughs again. "But I would have to become apart of your personal board to get approved for anything like that." You add.

"Well," Declan says, putting out his cigarette in the ashtray. "I hope you don't mind if I consider that possibility y/n. You have a lot of potential, and I admire your drive." He admits, clasping his hands together and putting them on his desk.

"I am very flattered, Declan. Thank you." You say, looking down before meeting his gaze again. "It's been a pleasure working for you." The undertone of your words hint at something beyond, causing Declan to tilt his chin up a bit to analyze you.

There was something about you that had caught his attention since you first set foot in Corinium, and he couldn't seem to shake his mind from it. It was like a guilty pleasure he could never acknowledge out loud.

The phone rings. Declan nods towards it, signaling for the conversation to end. "See you tonight, y/n." He finishes, taking the phone off it's mantle as you feel heat beginning to simmer in your abdomen, nodding before leaving his office and closing the door behind you.

You have a wide grin on your face as you make your way back to your desk, hastily returning to your work in order to keep the evening free.

-

Much to your surprise, it was karaoke night at the bar. There was a good mix of random patrons and recognizable faces taking turns singing out ballads.

You and Seb were sat at the bar, him sipping on a Guinness as you had a vodka soda. Classic American, he commented when you ordered it.

“You gonna go up there?” You ask Seb, gesturing towards Freddie Jones who was pouring his heart out on the mic.

“Mm, possibly. What’d you reckon I sing? I’m tone deaf but maybe if everyone gets drunk enough no one will notice.” He jokes, earning a fit of laughter from you both.

“I love The Cure if that’s any help.” You suggest, finishing your vodka soda.

Seb quickly gestures for the bartender to bring over a bottle of wine. He notices your curious expression, shrugging his shoulders. “Company’s paying for this shite, not me." He explains. "Also, The Cure? I like 'em, but they’re not gonna translate with these guys.” He says, drinking his pint. He pours you a glass of wine as you glance around the space, trying to spot Declan anywhere.

“What about Last Christmas? You know, by Wham? It’s almost Christmas after all.” You say, already pouncing on your glass of wine.

“I do like that one, maybe I’ll do it yeah.” Seb says nonchalantly, finishing his Guinness. “I’ll go right now, actually.” He suddenly gets up, walking through the crowd.

You grab the wine bottle itself and take a swig from it, feeling the alcohol flush out your face. You hated how it made your cheeks red like you were ashamed to be plastered.

You finally see the man you were waiting for enter the place, scanning the room before his eyes landed on yours. You give Declan a timid wave, causing him to walk over as Seb began singing on stage. “You made it!” You exclaim, returning to pouring the wine into your glass so you seemed classy in front of your inappropriate work crush.

“Yes, sorry. Had to stay later at the office to do more flawed research.” He jests, nodding towards the bartender who already knew his regular. Declan referred to finding dirt on his guests as flawed research, mainly so it didn’t seem so inane in conversation.

"You're very dedicated to your work, I'm surprised you have time for any of this." You say, allowing yourself to speak more freely now that you were definitely tipsy.

"My wife would say the same." He sighs, taking a sip of his glass of whiskey.

You take another sip of your glass, trying to conceal your distaste at the mention of his wife. "Is she not very pleased with you, Declan?" You ask, causing your boss's face to harden. "I'm sorry," You quickly add. "That's personal I shouldn't have said that, that's so stupid of me-"

"Y/n." Declan says, putting a hand on your arm. You feel your body burn up at his touch. "It's okay, really. It's actually relieving to know you don't know anything about my martial problems. Everyone does." He says dryly, taking another sip of his whiskey. "She's not too keen on me being obsessed with my job. She compares it to cheating on her, which I find rather hypocritical considering..." He trails off, smiling at you. "Forget it." He raises his glass, clinking yours. "To you, for being an amazing intern." He slams back his glass, putting it down and grabbing ahold of the aged bottle of whiskey to pour himself.

You smile awkwardly, raising your glass before taking another sip of your wine. You piece it together in your head, realizing that his wife must've committed adultery; just like almost every other married person you've worked alongside so far. "Jesus, Declan. I'm sorry." You mumble, hearing Seb's singing end in the distance.

"Please, don't apologize. It wasn't your fault." Declan says, a look of yearning in his eyes.

"If I were her, I'd never do anything of the sort. If I was with someone like you I'd cherish it everyday." You say, finishing your glass of wine.

Declan raises a brow, chuckling heartily. "And someone would be very, very lucky to have you y/n." He replies, the two of you locked in a stare.

You were definitely drunk by now, and wine always gave you an edge to flirt with whomever you found most attractive in the room. You place a hand on his arm, finally knowing what it was like to feel his muscles through the thin material of his button up. "You deserve better, Declan." You say, rubbing your thumb along his bicep. You watch as the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile, placing his hand over yours on his arm.

"How'd you think I did?" Seb asks, returning the bar and interrupting the moment between you and Mr. O'Hara. You pull back, turning yourself to face Seb.

"You did great, Seb." You say, pressing a kiss on his cheek, causing his face to go as red as his hair. "I think I'm gonna give it a shot, show the English what talents an American has." You grin, unable to make eye contact with Declan out of embarrassment for trying to flirt with a married man. However, the commonality of cheating on spouses here still gave you a sliver of hope as you walked towards the stage, a mask of confidence due to alcohol consumption.

"What song are you gonna do?" Seb asks, following in suit.

"You'll see." You say. You walk up to the host, whispering a song in their ear. They nod, giving you a thumbs up as you get on the stage.

Head Over Heels by Tears for Fears starts to play, causing the entire place to riot with excitement. You grin madly, grabbing ahold of the microphone as the lyrics begin to play. You watch as Declan makes his way through the crowd, standing between Freddie and Seb to watch you perform.

"I wanted to be with you alone And talk about the weather But traditions I can trace against the child in your face Won't escape my attention."

You dance along to the music, singing freely like no one was watching.

"You keep your distance via the system of touch And gentle persuasion I'm lost in admiration, could I need you this much? Oh, you're wasting my time You're just, just, just wasting time..."

You now make eye contact with Declan O'Hara, singing the chorus. Everyone's dancing around, paying no mind to where your attention was.

"Something happens and I'm head over heels I never find out until I'm head over heels Something happens and I'm head over heels Ah, don't take my heart, don't break my heart Don't, don't, don't throw it away..."

Declan watches you in admiration, realizing you're singing directly at him. You look away for the rest of the song, only returning your gaze when the chorus comes up again. When the song ends, you give a little curtesy, putting the mic back on the stand as everyone cheers madly.

"That was brilliant, y/n!" Seb exclaims, holding you in an embrace. You laugh, hugging him back. "Thanks, Seb."

"Seb, can you do one with me?" Daysee asks, causing Seb to pull away from you. "Course, what're you thinking?" The two of them walk away, leaving you be to earn compliments from the rest of your colleagues.

"You have a great voice." Declan says, causing you to turn and face him. "Great song, too." He adds.

"Thanks, it was a personal choice." You say, the next song starting up. Dreams by Fleetwood Mac starts playing, Seb and Daysee's choice. "Fuck, I love this song." You exclaim, looking over at the stage as your friends begin to sing along.

"As do I," Declan says. "Care to dance?" He asks, causing your gaze to return to his outstretched hand.

You smile. "I'd love to." You place one hand on his shoulder, the other in his hand as he places a hand on the small of your back. Your breathing becomes more shallow as the two of you rock to the music, staring into each other's eyes.

You didn't know if you were simply too drunk to acknowledge the reality of the situation, but you couldn't help but wonder if Declan was starting to like you a little more than just an intern that was great at her job.

The space between the two of you becomes insignificant, your head slowly leaning onto his chest as his hand moves down to your lower back, staying at the top of your skirt. You close your eyes as the two of you rock in sync, hearing his heart beat rather triumphally. Your stomach is full of butterflies, and the heat between your legs is almost unbearable as he rubs small circles on your lower back.

He smelled like Tom Ford cologne and Marlboro Golds with an undertone of whiskey, the scent of him nearly more intoxicating than the alcohol itself. You feel his chest vibrate as he quietly sings along to the song, causing you to pull your head back to look at him. You both start singing along, your faces merely inches away from each other.

"When the rain washes you clean, you'll know You'll know You will know Oh, you'll know.."

The song ends, everyone erupting into applause as you register the proximity of you and Declan, taking a step back as you notice the stares of your colleagues.

"Thanks for the dance." You mumble, looking down at the ground. "I uh, need to find Seb he's my ride." You say abruptly, leaving Declan stunned on the dancefloor as you hurriedly approach your ginger colleague. "Can you drive me home now?" You ask, putting a hand on his arm.

"Uh, yeah. Sure. Do you need a ride too Daysee?" He asks, the blonde shaking her head.

"'M alright. I'll see you lads on Monday." She says, grinning as the two of you grab your coats from the bar stools.

"Goodbye, Declan." You say, making eye contact with the brooding man who simply looks at you.

"Goodnight, y/n." He responds, inhaling his cigarette before looking away.

You feel a pang in your chest as you look at Declan for another moment, expecting more. He says nothing else. Seb leads you away from the bar, allowing you to let go of any longing between you and Mr. O'Hara.

Declan knew it was wrong to think of you in any other light outside of work. Even if Maud had cheated on him before, with the tendency to keep going at it, he still couldn't shake the guilt away just yet. He retreated to disregarding you as a means to hopefully make you both forget about the whole ordeal, as if he wasn't thinking about what it would be like to have his hands underneath that tight pencil skirt of yours.

He groaned and ran a hand through his hair, lighting another cigarette. The holiday season was about to be a real hassle, and he was afraid of asking Santa for what he really wished for this time around.

-

guys... i finally did it... declan o'hara i want you so bad. i think im just gonna write a part two to this maybe three, and leave it at that. if you have any requests pweaseee leave them for meeee this show has me in a CHOKEHOLD.

much love as always, isabel

[marvelobsessed134]

Need you, love you

A/n: Loosely inspired by Ptolemaea by Ethel Cain one of the best songs to ever exist. The plot doesn’t really have anything to do with it but you should listen while you read 🤭

Pairings: Dwayne x Fem!human!reader

Warnings: smut, dub/non con, dom!dwayne, sub!reader, cannon au takes place in the 80s and he’s a vampire obviously, dark!dwayne but is that really a warning?, knife play, blood, possessiveness, vampire stuff idfk, kidnapping, mentions of a toxic household, loss of virginity, and I think that’s it let me know if I missed anything.

A young pretty girl like you should not be out at this time of night, walking on the now closed boardwalk. The lights turned off, the only thing illuminating the wooden boardwalk being the dim street lights and the lights from the rides that are still kept on.

You ran away from home again, hating how your parents would scream and fight all night while you were trying to sleep. It’s become so unbearable that you sneak out at night just to escape the house. It’s peaceful and quiet out here on the boardwalk after it’s closed for the night, so you come here often.

Little did you know, you were not alone. A tall man with long dark brown hair had hidden himself in the shadows as he followed you carefully. He loved the way the little white night gown hugged your body, the way your fuzzy white slippers adorned your felt delicately. Your hair cascading down your back. He’s been watching you for a while now, ever since the first time he saw you on the boardwalk with your family. Quiet, shy, young, meek. It’s become routine for him to stay out here late at night even though there’s no humans around for him to feed from. His senses, his mind, his body, has been filled with you. And you didn’t even know it.

He stood in the shadow of the alleyway as you walked past, his breathing getting heavier and more aggressive. His cock pressing up against his leather pants. He couldn’t take it anymore, he needed you.

So right when you walked past he grabbed your arm and dragged you in the dark alleyway. You tried to scream but he covered your mouth with his rough, large, hand. He leaned down to whisper in your ear, “don’t scream. Or else this will be a lot more painful than it needs to be.” You gulped and nodded, tears forming in your eyes.

He backed you against the brick wall and uncovered your mouth, taking your chin in between his thumb and index finger to tilt your head up looking into your tear filled eyes.

“You’re so fucking pretty you know that? I’ve been waiting to get to you for weeks now.” He husked causing your panties dampen. You tried to mentally cut yourself out of the feeling, you should not be liking this. But getting a closer look at the man in the pale moonlight, you saw how beautiful he is. Strong jawline, beautiful bottomless brown eyes, long brown majestic hair, plump lips, muscles for days.

“Who are you? What do you want from me?” You asked once you snapped yourself out of your thirsting.

“Dwayne. And I know your name is Y/n. Very pretty name for a very pretty girl. And all I want is you, that’s all.” Your brows furrowed in confusion. And he chuckled a bit, “I think you’d be the perfect girl for me. You’re everything I want in a woman.” That made you blush a little bit. No one has ever said something like that to you.

You gasped when he pressed his large bulge against your front and opened his switchblade knife. Your eyes widened in fear, “Shh…it’s not gonna hurt that bad trust me baby.” He put his knife under the strap of your nightgown and sliced it easily, making it fall and expose your breast. You quickly tried to cover yourself but he was quick at holding your hand down.

He did the same to the other side, now your nightgown pools at your feet and you’re left in just your panties and slippers.

The brunette groped your breasts, tweaking your nipples and toying with them, putting them in his mouth one by one making you gasp and moan at the new feeling. “So soft, so sweet.” He murmured against your skin.

Dwayne pressed a kiss to the valley of your breasts before moving his hand down to your wet panties. “So wet already? Such a good girl.” He sliced your panties off with his knife and now you’re bare, slightly chilled from the night air.

He worked you with his fingers, rubbing your clit making your knees buckle, then entering two digits inside your cunt, pumping them in and out and curling them to rub that sweet spot. You moaned and cried out, gripping his shoulder as he made you feel this brand new feeling of euphoria. “I know you’re close, cum for me.” The man growled and you clenched around his fingers, releasing your juices all over his hand.

“Holy fuck, so good.” He moaned, licking his fingers clean before making quick work of undoing his pants pulling his large cock out. It had to be about ten inches, it was huge. Your eyes widened and you tried to run away but he roughly grabbed your arm and pulled you back against the brick wall holding your shoulder firmly not letting you get away. He rubbed his leaking tip against your entrance before thrusting inside of you.

You gripped his shoulders as tears ran down your face, looking up at him through your blurry vision. Dwayne continued to thrust into you, hitting your spot every time, gripping your hips so tight there would definitely be bruises in the morning. “So fucking tight oh my god.” He growled getting more and more aggressive.

“Wait- Dwayne- too rough please stop!” But he didn’t even slow down, continued to fuck into you as if you were a silicone sex doll from the adult store a couple doors down. The brunette growled as fangs emerged from his mouth and his face vamped out. You screamed in both pleasure and fear, trying to get away, but he was so much stronger than you. He quickly leaned down to your neck and bit you, causing you to scream out as blood dripped from the broken flesh. He drank you like you were his last meal, until you became unconscious, but still alive. He would never kill you. Dwayne came inside you not long after and transformed back into his normal state, putting his leather jacket on you, zipping his pants back up, and carrying you to his bike. Leaving your discarded garments behind.

You poor thing,

Sweet mourning lamb

There’s nothing you can do

It’s already been done.

[okay-j-hannah]

Part 4: Ollie's Catnip

Teen Wolf : Multishot

Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Word Count: 10.4k

Warnings: series rewrite, season 1 {aka 2011}, slow burn, friends to lovers, usual teen wolf levels of violence and gore, heart conditions, lightheadedness, an unwanted kiss, forced kiss, terror, near werewolf attack

Request: This just came from my own head 😊

Part 3: Blue Handprints

Part 4: Ollie's Catnip {You Are Here}

Part 5: Mieczyslaw

Monday had rolled around quicker than you were expecting. After a week of being sick and a weekend of hanging out with your friends, you want to get back to a regular schedule.

The deep claw marks imbedded in your shoulder were healed, but left puffy, red marks that would soon scar terribly. Seeing as you already had a surgical scar on your chest it wasn’t a big deal.

What was bothersome was that it started to ache. Like a bad knee on a rainy day, your shoulder was tweaking something awful. You were massaging it in your classroom as others began filing in for the infamous chemistry test.

A few friendly faces welcome you back and ask if you heard about the incident with the janitor and supposed serial killer.

You wave them off and wait for your friends to appear.

Allison walks in with Lydia, and they sit in front of you. “Hey, how are you doing?”

“I’m fine. Although I haven’t seen Scott since Wednesday so that’s another story.”

Lydia reapplies her lipstick and adjusts her necklaces, “We’ll conquer that bridge when we come to it. Remember, you don’t need him. He treated you badly and he has a lot of making up to do before you even suggest the thought of talking to him again.”

Your eyes widen ever so slightly, “That’s pretty harsh.”

“Just because you decide to hang with the dog toys on the side doesn’t mean you can’t support your girls in avoiding them!”

You look to Allison, “I haven’t told him anything besides that you’re hurt. And that you’re looking for an explanation. I won’t tell him anything more unless you want me to.”

“No,” she shakes her head, “No, that’s fine for now. I want him to stew in it for a while.”

“Oh trust me…” you flip your pencil between your fingers, “He’s been simmering in those thoughts all weekend. The poor boy is crushed.”

“As he should be,” Lydia flips her hair, confidence radiating off her. She would ace this test without batting an eyelash. “He’s the one that’s been miscommunicating and hiding things from you. You don’t need that kind of stress added to your life.”

You frown, eyeing the scribbles and carvings on your desktop. The boys were still hiding a number of things from you. The foggy trip to the forest on Saturday didn’t help much. But the drunken memory of Stiles kissing your hairline and making wolf jokes brought a smile to your face.

Wolf jokes… it was the full moon that night, wasn’t it?

You rub your left shoulder again as Stiles walks in to sit beside you. He waves to you and takes a passive stance in his seat – tapping his pencil in his hand and bouncing his leg like it was the pedal keeping his life support on.

He hadn’t spoken to you the rest of the weekend. Nothing about the drunkenness. Nothing about the flirty touches he kept initiating. Nothing about how those senior boys tried to take you away.

“How was your Sunday?” you finally try and say.

“Fine, I had to come up with an excuse why my dad had one less bottle in his liquor cabinet,” he watches the pencil flying around his fingers, “I had to convince him he had one too many drinks while trying to solve the current investigation.”

You nod slowly, “Has he done that before?”

“Yeah, so it wasn’t that hard for him to believe.” There was a rather sad smirk on his face as he says it. “Anyways, how’s the bump on your head? Rocks punch hard I hear.”

You laugh, “Thanks to your kiss it hasn’t bothered me at all.”

“You remember that?” he winces, trying to hide the pink blossoming across his nose. “You remember anything else?”

You wonder how much you want to embarrass him. “You certainly had some wandering hands…”

“Oh, god,” he drops his pencil and buries his head in his arms atop his desk. “I was hoping that wouldn’t come up.”

“It was just some harmless arm tickles,” you shrug, amused by his reaction. “And you helping me to the car. You know as far as being wasted goes, we weren’t blackout drunk. I remember everything pretty well.”

He takes a deep breath and rubs hard at his eyes, “I was worried sick all yesterday thinking you’d be mad at me.”

“Why would I be mad at you?” you laugh again, “We’re friends; I was leaning on Scott and holding onto his ankle most of the night. Friends are allowed to be close.”

“Yeah, but you told me how you like Andrew and I was worried that you’d be upset about me doing what I did when you were probably hoping that it was Andrew that was doing what I did because you want to go on a date with him… and I wasn’t sure how you felt about me being close when you weren’t in some kind of distress from your heart because so far the only times I’ve touched you has been when you were about to faint or your heart is racing or you just went through a traumatic ordeal, and seeing as being drunk and having a breakup bonfire with your friends is none of those things… I thought maybe you’d be mad at me for, you know… touching you.”

His eyes were boring into his desk, leg back to bouncing like his life depended on it. You were smiling a sweet smile. He was so adorably endearing.

You wait until you see the honey of his eyes before saying, “I’m not mad, Stiles.”

He looks to you as if waiting for a long-winded reply like his, but he settles back into his desk and whispers, “Okay.”

“I would tell you if I didn’t like how you were touching me.”

He whips his head to you again, expression open and pink as he lingers on your warm gaze and soft smile. His throat bobs as Scott enters the room and makes awkward eye contact with Allison.

He sits on Stiles’ other side, giving him a blank nod as a hello. You lean forward and put a hand on Allison’s shoulder as a little silent support.

Mr. Harris starts class right after. “You have 45 minutes to complete the test. 25% of your grade can be earned right now simply by writing your name on the cover of the blue book. However, as happens every year, one of you will inexplicably fail to put your name on the cover, and I’ll be left yet again questioning my decision to ever become a teacher.”

You finish writing your name, peeking to see Stiles doing the same in a much more frantic manner. You share a smile with him as he finds your laughing gaze.

“So let’s get the disappointment over with. Begin.” Mr. Harris starts his stopwatch and the class simultaneously open their testing booklets.

You’re quick to start answering the first multiple choice question. Being someone that spends a lot of time at home, your study habits are perfection. It was a breeze knowing the answers to the entire first page.

As you flip to the backside, you notice Allison sending looks toward Scott. You follow her gaze and notice your friend having a strange, tweaky reaction to different things in the room. He kept jerking his head in different directions and squeezing his eyes shut as if to stop them from seeing something.

You share concern with Allison as you wonder what is ailing him.

Less than a minute later Scott was running out of the classroom with his backpack. Stiles was quick to follow him soon after.

“Mr. McCall!” Mr. Harris yells from his desk, “Mr. Stilinski!”

You probably would’ve followed too if Mr. Harris wasn’t currently giving a lecture about teenage delinquents and how that was a record for disappointment during an end-of-term test. But Stiles was out there with him – he probably didn’t want more attention than that. Scott was already hurting enough.

You attempt to continue the test and take deep breaths to control the random spikes in your heartbeat. Nothing unusual.

~~~

Scott was dripping in the locker room showers, the only thing having calmed him down being the forgotten inhaler in his backpack. Stiles stood back, consoling him on the panic attack.

“I looked at her, and it was like someone hit me in the ribs with a hammer.”

Stiles bites his lip, “Yeah, it’s called heartbreak. About two billion songs written about it.” And unrequited love, he thinks miserably.

Scott bangs his head against the tile wall, gripping his hair and trying to control his breathing, “I can’t stop thinking about her.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Stiles mumbles, thoughts swaying towards you. “Well, you could think about this: her dad’s a werewolf hunter, and you’re a werewolf, so it was bound to become an issue.” He could feel you smacking him on the arm, “That wasn’t helpful.”

“You think any of that matters when I feel about her like I do?”

“Dude,” Stiles lolls his head around, “I mean, yeah you got dumped, and it’s supposed to suck.”

Scott hangs his head, rubbing at his ear as he recalls, “No, that’s not it. It was like I could feel everything in the room, everyone else’s emotions. Anxiety, nerves, hunger…”

“That’ll be the test.”

“There was something warm, like love and a feeling like someone was going to be sick.”

Stiles perks up, “Who was the one feeling love?”

“It’s hard to pinpoint it,” Scott winces, “Maybe the extra heartbreak I’m feeling is because I was feeling it from Allison?”

“It’s got to be the full moon,” Stiles shrugs, “So we’ll lock you up in your room later just like we planned. That way the Alpha, who is your boss, can’t get to you, either.”

“I think we need to do a lot more than lock me in my room.” Something changes in Scott’s eyes. He stands with a new kind of assertiveness.

Stiles starts to ramble as per usual, “What, you mean because if you get out, you’d be caught by hunters?”

“No. Because if I get out, I think I might kill someone.”

“Shit,” Stiles mumbles, screwing up his face and folding his arms. “Is this that whole the Alpha wants me to kill my old pack so I can be a part of his bullshit?” He backs away from the menacing gleam now in Scott’s face. “We’re not going to let that happen. The Alpha has already targeted each of us. I’m not going to let him sway you into doing it yourself.”

“I wonder who will be the first.”

Stiles does not like the condemning tone to his voice as he says that.

~~~

You were heading to the library after school, keeping your backpack on your right shoulder. Consoling your two heartbroken friends and avoiding the hostility between Lydia and Jackson had given you a different type of exhaustion.

But nothing a healthy dose of scientific research for your chemistry project couldn’t fix.

Having memorized the layout of the library, you knew where to look for microbial research. You select a textbook and go to the front desk to check out a school Chromebook – which happened to be the latest donation for student use that year.

You were even more surprised when you went for the couches and tables. Stiles was sitting there doing his own kind of research.

“I thought you were taking care of Scott?”

Stiles seems just as surprised to see you. There was a frantic second where he tries to shuffle around his doodle pads and books. “Uh… yeah, he sort of got tired of me ‘yapping’ at him all day.” He has a funny side smile as he laughs.

“Breakups are hard,” you nod, sucking in your lips. “What are you doing here?” You lean across his table, trying to read his research upside down.

He gets fidgety again, scratching his head and making a low sound in his throat. “Nothing! Just a little hobby.”

“Wolves?” you ask, finally pulling one of his books towards you. “I didn’t know you had an interest in… wildlife.” You snicker as he yanks the book back.

“Ha ha, yeah very funny. I do just so happen to have an… interest… in w-wolves.”

You struggle to take him seriously, “And why wolves specifically?”

His throat bobs and his eyes wander for a second, “… because they say Derek is a serial killer. But you told me that the video store manager was killed by a wolf, not a human. So I’m sort of seeing if it’s possible all the murders were done by a rabid wolf and not a man… or a mountain lion.” He says it so quickly that you’re not sure if it’s his ADHD or him trying to cover his tracks.

You itch to touch your left shoulder, “What have you found out?” You sit across from him and look eager – almost heartened that he was taking your eyewitness account so seriously.

He seems resistant for a second before losing the rigidness in his shoulders. He melts forward into the table as he speaks to you in a hushed voice. “I was looking at their hunting patterns. Wolves are very endurance based predators. They don’t need to sneak up on their prey or have the element of surprise. They’re willing to travel for miles until they find an opportunity to strike.”

“So once you’re a target you’re pretty much screwed,” you smirk – but you’re unnerved at the fact Stiles wasn’t sharing your amusement.

“Right,” he plays around with his papers, “And they’re very smart with their targets. They use visual cues, their hearing, and scent to identify the perfect prey.”

You watch his speckled face as he explains, “What makes the perfect prey?”

His warm sappy eyes find yours, “They go for the weakest or sickest of the herd first.” His voice is almost solemn as he says it, “They seize the advantage in a hunt by going for a more vulnerable animal. They are smart enough to weigh their options for the peak outcome.”

“I didn’t know wolves were so clever.”

“Clever hunters,” Stiles scoffs. “And brutal killers. They don’t have the skillset to kill their victims quickly. Their prey usually die from shock or blood loss as the pack starts tearing them apart like a mob.”

You shiver unexpectedly, “Lovely research, Stiles. I’m going to have those recurring nightmares from the video store again.”

He was watching your amused face with something hollow. He looks sad… and worried. “Sorry, I’m being morbid.”

“It’s been a strange couple weeks,” you say, flipping through the index of your textbook, “While you’re here, do you want to meet about our science project?”

“The one that isn’t due for another month? Yeah, sure,” he finally smiles, warming up at your particular quirks.

You find the page on Escherichia coli. “Well, we’re going to need a few weeks to let the bacteria grow in the petri dishes.”

Stiles makes a face, “Bacteria?”

“I want to test some food handlers rules. There are many ways to cook and defrost different meats – how do we know which is the best to kill any unwanted bacteria?” You smile wide, “We plant some foodborne illness in meat, freeze it and defrost it in different ways before cooking it. We’ll swab them before and after cooking to see what bacteria grows.”

“What bacteria were you thinking?” Stiles folds his arms, stomach starting to feel a little queasy.

“E. coli,” you beam, “It’s a coliform bacterium that can cause food poisoning and diarrhea.”

Stiles swallows hard, “And you thought my research was lovely…”

“Come on, I know Mr. Harris would sign off on us getting some E. coli samples and we can conduct it in the lab. And after we can have steak for dinner.”

“I am not eating any kind of meat that you had stuffed full of a diarrhea bacteria!”

You laugh and miss the look of marveling in Stiles’ gaze. “Don’t you have lacrosse practice today?”

He watches you take notes with your pretty handwriting, completely forgetting about his research. “Yeah, actually. I have to hit the lockers in about ten minutes.”

“Hopefully that’ll be good for Scott,” you sigh, still giving most of your attention to your notes. “It might help him get some pent up feelings out.”

Stiles was very against that idea, pulling on his sleeves and starting to bounce his leg. “Maybe. Hey, speaking of Scott. When we were at the forest with him… there was something you said…”

“We both said a lot of things that night,” you snicker, “Kind of happens when you’re intoxicated.”

“No, it was something that I didn’t think much about until I remembered it the next morning,” he bows his head to try and get into your eyeline as you continue to write. “Can I ask you my personal question of the day?”

You laugh at the use of that question since you’ve become closer friends, “Sure, Stilinski.”

“You said you’ve never had anything past a situationship before,” he looks at your bright eyes with a slanted brow, “Because they get scared about you dying. What does that mean?”

There was a shiver in your eyes, but you remain steady, “I don’t know, Stiles – we were drunk. I probably just meant the inevitable. Everyone dies eventually.”

“Sure,” he says quietly, registering your evasiveness immediately. “Especially in this town.”

You shake your head, going back to your E. coli notes. “I almost wish it was the mountain lion, so we’d at least know it was dead and gone.” You flip the pages of your textbook, “I’m going to sit with Lydia today.”

“You’re going to watch?” he sounds lighthearted at that.

You smile, “Yeah, I want to support my boys. And, you know, Allison isn’t going to be there like usual.”

Stiles nods, staring at you longer than he should’ve. He couldn’t help admiring the natural rosiness to your cheeks when you weren’t sick.

“You worried about your heart?” he asks, starting to pack up his own research. “It’ll be loud and wild.”

“Maybe a little,” you say, “But everyone knows, and they can help if I feel faint.” You watch him stand from the table, “I’ll see you out on the field.”

~~~

Stiles was on a high. Scott was made captain, and he was now on the first line. Thank god for pinkeye.

“Are you not freaking out? I’m freaking out,” he has a stupid smile on his face, bouncing as he walks.

Scott was still brooding, “What’s the point? It’s just a stupid title. And I could practically smell the jealousy in there.”

“You’re still smelling everyone’s emotions?” Stiles stops them in the hallway, “Like from the test this morning?”

Scott is mumbling as he says, “Yeah, it’s like the full moon’s turned everything up to 10.”

Stiles, in his usual fidgety manner, awkwardly brings up, ��Can you pick up on stuff like, I don’t know, desire?” He looks down the hall and his eyes warm into that sweet brown color.

It wasn’t registering in Scott, “What do you mean, desire?”

“Like… sexual desire.”

“Sexual desire?” Scott deadpans. He was dealing with a breakup and this guy has the audacity to ask him about sexual desires. His mind immediately pinpoints a moment when he and Allison were kissing on the bed. It made his blood boil.

Stiles was still talking around it, “Yeah, sexual desire. Lust, passion, arousal.”

After a huff of contempt, Scott peers down the hall and spots what Stiles is after. “From (Y/N)?”

Stiles looks toward the double doors at the end of the hall and gulps at your standing figure. You’re talking to Andrew and Danny, shocked at something they’re saying. You look towards the boys and wave, giving two big thumbs up. Apparently the lacrosse team had told you the big news about the recent promotions.

“What?” Stiles says quickly, waving back at you, “No, in a general, broad sense, can you determine sexual desire?”

Scott was experiencing a strange combination of anger and amusement, “From (Y/N) to you?”

“Fine, yes!” Stiles says louder than he means to, “From (Y/N) to me.” He bares his teeth a little in frustration, “Look, I need to know if I have a chance with this girl, okay.” He looks to you again to see Lydia appear to take you away. “I’ve been obsessing over her since getting back from winter break. She’s all I can think about!”

“Why don’t you just ask her? We’re all friends.”

Stiles twitches, “Well, to save myself utterly crushing humiliation. Thank you, Scott. I don’t want her pulling out the ‘I just see you as a friend’ line. I think I’d have to switch high schools.” He pulls on his uniform, “Please, can you just go up and ask if she likes me? See if her heartbeat rises…”

“Her heartbeat is always all over the place,” Scott rolls his eyes, “Hence the medical condition.”

“I don’t know,” Stiles grounds out, flailing his arms over his head, “See if pheromones come out or something!”

Scott turns on his heel and walks away, “Fine.”

Stiles is left in shock and pink tinging his cheeks, “I love you. I love you! You’re my best friend in the whole world.” He grips his lacrosse stick tight enough to hear the leather handle squeak.

At the end of the hall, talking with Lydia, you mutter something that sounds eerily like ‘Andrew.’ Scott didn’t let it bother him, “Hey, (Y/N), can we talk for a second?”

You play with your jacket, noticing the off color to his eyes before saying, “Yeah, of course.”

Lydia rolls her eyes, “I’ll save you a seat on the stands.” She flounces off smelling of heavenly perfume.

You lead Scott off to the nearest empty classroom, arms folded as you ask, “Are you okay?”

“I just needed to ask you something,” he says with his head bowed, sounding hurt as he continues, “Do you… do you know if Allison still likes me?”

You tilt your chin down, frowning slightly at the puppy-dog eyes he was giving you. “Of course she still likes you. I told you it was going to take a long time for her to get over you. That’s probably why she isn’t here cheering on her friends.”

“Friends…”

“I mean, yeah she’ll always like you as a friend,” you say sincerely, “I don’t think she could ever hate you.”

Scott wasn’t liking the answer. He was glowering again, all puppy-dog erased from his eyes. His hands were curling into fists as he says, “Just friends.”

You sound timid as you continue, “She doesn’t want any animosity between you, but yeah… maybe cooling off as just friends could ease the tension.”

He takes a step forward and the room feels three degrees colder, “You’re saying I should just forget all about my feelings for her?”

You take a sudden step back, your heart beginning to leap in your chest. Scott did not look like the friendly version of himself you had grown accustomed to. He was being dark and menacing, an edge to his voice that you did not like.

A hand going to your chest as it usually did to somehow contain your heartbeat, you say, “For the time being, maybe. Just see it as you’re taking a break. When you see her again…”

“Then I need to take my mind off of her somehow,” he says, creeping his way toward you – almost like he was stalking.

You were being backed into a wall, “Scott, are you okay? You seem a little off.” Your shoulders hit the wall, “You’re scaring me.”

He takes a long sniff and cocks his head to the side, “Scaring you a lot, actually.” He invades your personal space – to the point where you can feel the angry heat radiating off him. “Your heart is racing.”

You gulp and Scott eyes the pulse galloping in your neck. “What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to distract myself from the breakup. You said you would help me.” And his hands snap to your face, holding it in place as he crushes his lips to yours. He is stronger than you were expecting, pulling you to him with rigid arms.

You try to flail away, but Scott’s hands land on your upper arms, pining you between him and the wall. He kisses you hungrily – angrily – as he goes in for more and more. Your muffled cries of defiance are smothered in his mouth. It was bruising and intense, way more than you were ready for.

When he eventually pulls away you are quick to smack him across the face. Shoving at his solid form before running from the abandoned classroom. You sprint for the farthest restroom and find it empty.

You lean against a sink before looking in the mirror. Your hair was ratted in the back and the swollen red of your lips was a giveaway. You were just realizing you were crying when the alarm of your watch finally registered in your brain.

Your heart was still pounding in your chest and before long you’d be lightheaded.

It took nearly twenty minutes for you to calm down. Sitting on the dirty tiled floor, head between your knees, and tears running down your nose. You wonder what had gotten into Scott for him to take advantage of you like that.

Scott wasn’t that kind of guy, right?

You had received texts from both Lydia and Stiles before you made it outside. Lydia asking where you were and Stiles asking about your heart. He had gotten an alarm on his phone too.

Scott had told him it was because you were thinking about him… that you had confessed that you did, in fact, have a crush on Stiles too.

Lydia could see the closed, distraught look on your face as you climb the bleachers. “What happened? Have you been crying?” She touches the redness under your eyes.

You push her away, holding yourself and whispering, “I just had a moment. I’m fine.”

It wasn’t enough for Lydia, her manicured nails tilting your chin towards her, “Have you been kissing?!”

You rub at your lips, “Not by choice.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks with a sudden lowered tone. The usual façade of the flirty popular spring fling queen was gone. “Did some guy…?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you whisper again, eyeing the field and rubbing up and down your arms. “Let’s just enjoy the game.”

Lydia was still staring at you, “(Y/N), we need to report this.”

“No, it was an accident,” you say defensively, “He didn’t mean to.”

“Who?”

“Noone, Lydia please,” you start to feel your eyes water again, “I promised Stiles I’d be here, and I don’t break those promises.”

A huff escapes Lydia, “That’s ridiculous. That idiot friend of yours would understand you leaving because somebody assaul…”

You hiss at her, “Stop! You’ll send my heart rate sky rocketing.”

She purses her lips, yanking her bag towards her and flushed with anger, “Fine. At least let me help hide the evidence. You don’t want anyone else questioning you.” She extracts a make-up wipe and a calming chapstick. “And then you’ll tell me what little bitch did this and we’ll set the dogs on him.”

You crack a tiny sad smile, “Thanks, Lydia.”

“We’ve got a whole lacrosse team that would be on your side.” She folds her arms and crosses her legs, tapping her floating foot in the air. “Jackson and Andrew would stand up for you.”

You watch Scott get pummeled to the ground, jumping back up like nothing happened. “I’m not sure I want the lacrosse team knowing.” Andrew stands as goalie, fending off all the incoming pitches. “I’m not even sure what happened.”

An overenthusiastic player in jersey #24 waves at you emphatically. He’s practically on his tiptoes as he grovels for your attention….

You know instantly that it’s Stiles.

You return his high energy with a small wave and in return his points to his chest, right above his heart, and gives you a thumbs up in question. He’s asking about your heartbeat.

After a second of appreciation, you give him a hesitant thumbs up before wrapping your arms around yourself again. Stiles grips his lacrosse stick nervously – Scott was going in for another try.

Only it ends with him clipping Andrew in the helmet, slamming him to the ground. You stand with Lydia, gasping at the sound of the impact. You’re fumbling down the bleacher stairs as everyone huddles around Andrew.

You hear Stiles’ voice as he confronts Scott. “Dude, what the hell are you doing?”

“What? He’s twice the size of me.”

“Yeah, but everybody likes Andrew. Now everybody’s gonna hate you.”

You speed across the grass, avoiding Stiles and Scott as he says, “I don’t care.” You catch his eyes and flinch away, skirting to the other side of the goalpost and to the fallen Andrew. He had a bloody nose but was probably safe from a concussion.

Stiles was stuck on the fact that you had flinched away from him and Scott. Why would you run away like that? He watches your crouching figure console Andrew, pushing your hair behind your ears.

There was still a redness to your eyes and a chapped swollenness to your mouth.

And Stiles was putting two and two together. He was slack jawed and turning to the retreating figure of Scott. Disbelief was the only way to describe what he was feeling.

Disbelief and full blown rage.

But he was more worried about you.

As they were carting Andrew away, along with most of the players and Lydia bickering with Jackson – you were left by the goalpost shaking and quiet.

He was gauging your response as he nears you. “(Y/N)?” He lifts a hand to your arm and you flinch out of his touch. It disappoints him – a punch to his gut. “What’s wrong?”

You gulp, avoiding his eyes, “Uh… it’s nothing. I’m just worried about Andrew.”

He frowns, tensing his jaw, “Did… Did something happen with Scott?”

You’re gripping your arms as you shake your head, “I told you it was nothing, Stiles. I j-just had a heart rate spike and I don’t feel so well.”

The evasiveness was getting to Stiles. He grinds his teeth, “(Y/N), I have a feeling your spike had something to do with Scott.” He wishes you would look at him, “Please, tell me the truth.”

Your eyes were starting to water, “Don’t make me say it, Stiles. I haven’t even processed what’s happened,” you run your fingers through your hair, blowing out a shaky breath, “I don’t want to think about it.”

God, he wants to touch you again. He wants to hold you. “I think I know,” he whispers, rage broiling in his veins. “That son of a bitch.”

You sniff, looking towards the sky to avoid letting the tears fall. It was stabbing a knife into Stiles’ heart.

“Lydia’s my ride home,” you say, your voice cracking, “I have to find her. I’m sure she’s still… fighting with Jackson.”

“No,” Stiles says instantly, “Absolutely not. I’ll drive you home. Just let me change real quick.” He starts stripping his uniform immediately, throwing his gloves with a little more force than was necessary.

You shove your hands in your pockets, still shaking regardless of how warm the spring afternoon was. “That’s kind of you Stiles, but…”

“If you say not to worry and walk away, I swear to god I’ll freak out,” he tosses his jersey and shoulder pads on the grass. “I see it as my privilege to escort you home. Please? It’ll make me feel better about leaving you knowing you’re safe.” His pleading made his eyes warm and syrupy. Your favorite shade of brown.

You reluctantly look at him with your red eyes – it seems to develop worrisome wrinkles in his forehead. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeats, hopeful, “Okay. Let’s go.” He avoids touching you, much to his dismay, and leads the way to the parking lot.

“Don’t you need to put your stuff back in your locker?” you ask quietly.

“Nope,” he says frankly, “This is more important.” He walks beside you, giving you some distance.

You can’t help the smile that wants to appear, “Thank you.”

He holds open the jeep door for you and throws his stuff unceremoniously in the back. He’s racing out of the parking lot, tension evident in his shoulders as he sneaks quick looks at your cowering figure.

You’re huddled against the door, holding your arms again.

Stiles has his usual hand on the wheel and the other on the stick shift. His chest was tight and painful as he tries to think of something to say, “I’m not going to ask you if you’re okay again because I know you’re not. And I can tell you just want to sit and think but I got to admit it’s freaking impossible for me to sit still and be quiet. You’re scaring the hell out of me, and I just want to help. I just…” he moves the hand on the stick shift to the edge of your chair. “I want to make you feel better. I’m not good at this. I’m not good at much… except maybe talking when I’m nervous…”

You silently move your hand to Stiles’. He’s quick to grip your fingers and gasp a sigh of relief.

“Oh, thank god,” he laughs awkwardly, “I can do this. Is this helping you feel better? If it is, you can hold my hand for as long as you need. I’ll hold your hand all night if that’s what it takes… I’ll hold your hand…”

“Stiles,” you say, quietly amused. “Please stop talking.”

“Sure,” he says, zipping his lip with his free hand. He mouths silently, “No more talking.”

The rest of the ride was quiet, except for the rumble of the engine and the incessant tapping of Stiles’ thumb against the steering wheel. He sometimes lifts your conjoined hands to change gears. Other times he subtly moves his thumb up your index finger, perhaps trying to be soothing.

You watch things fly past the window as you near your house. The shakiness of Stiles’ constantly moving hands was almost therapeutic. It distracts you to feel his fingers dance around your hand. You wipe at your eyes as the jeep stops in your driveway.

Stiles jumps out of the car and bangs his hip on the headlight as he runs for your side. He curses terribly and opens your door, “M’lady,” he pants in pain.

You slide out, tears smeared beneath your eyes as you say, “Thank you, Stiles.”

As he shuts the door you contemplate for about three seconds before going in for a hug.

Your arms wrap around his shoulders as you place your tearstained face near his neck. He returns the hug timidly, careful with how he’s touching you. He keeps his hands near your shoulder blades, at the top of your back.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “I’m going to try and figure this out.”

Your sniffles cause him physical pain. “I’ll see you later.”

He waves you off, stewing in his new plan to contain Scott’s rabid werewolf side and to get his full revenge in payback for treating you like this.

~~~

After a nap and an ice pack for your swollen face and oncoming headache, you feel more clearheaded. Oliver, the gray cat, has his front paws perched on your knee, searching for more pats to the head.

“I just don’t get it,” you say, speaking to your cat as if he were your therapist. “I understand that he’s going through a breakup, but that doesn’t give him the right to act like a jackass.” You hold the icepack to your temples, “There must be something else going on – or maybe that’s just something Scott is capable of, and I didn’t see it.”

Oliver chirps at you, butting his head into your palm.

“I know, Ollie,” you say, “I don’t need anymore stress added to my life.”

With your mom helping dispatch with a call in the forest and your dad managing the firehouse that night, you were grateful to be home alone with your problems. It was a shame they had to work so much to maintain the debt from your medical bills.

But they never complained.

The moon was full and bright like a flashlight through your window. You thought about texting Allison but thought better of it.

You were, however, texting Lydia to keep away from filing a police report. You had no idea she was so invested in your care. She always seemed slightly aloof and as if her priorities were centered around high school popularity.

But maybe she had her own set of secrets like everyone else in this town.

You continue to talk with Oliver as the moon rises in the sky. It’s dark and chilly outside and you can hear the rustling of budding branches. It gives the night a strange ominous tone. It prompts you to the open window to peer at the darkness.

Oliver purrs and finds a spot at the foot of your bed to curl up.

The ache in your shoulder reappears as you gaze at the moon. “I think I need to go back to sleep.”

There was a sudden howl on the wind, loud enough that it sent a chill through your bones. You quickly slam the window shut, staring at your scared reflection in the glass. “You need to calm down, (Y/N).”

But there was something moving in the distance that caught your attention. Something fast and on all fours. Something animal… but…

You squint your eyes, pressing against the window to look past neighbor fences and thick growths of trees. There was some kind of creature running through yards and… straight towards your house.

The breath leaving your lungs was shallow as you realize – this thing was coming at you. You watch it reach your yard and stop. It stands and all you see are yellow eyes, sharp teeth, and a furry face.

You make eye contact with the creature and panic, gasping aloud as you back away. “Oh my god…”

Blood was pumping in your ears as you flounder. Where do you go? What do you do? You scramble to find something useful, a strange clawing coming from the walls below.

Where was your phone?

Your eyes dart to your bed and you pounce. Hands frantically searching beneath pillows and sheets, Ollie grumbles and jumps off the bed. Panting, you find the cellphone under your blanket, rolling off the mattress and running out of your room.

That thing knew you were in the bedroom.

There was a louder sound of clawing and splintering wood downstairs. The squeak of metal told you that the front door had swung open. The silence that follows makes you even more terrified. You thought something rabid was entering your house, but instead it was deadly quiet.

You cross the hallway and to your parents room, closing the door as quietly as possible. Speeding towards their ensuite bathroom, you lock yourself in. You think about your options – your parents? 911? Stiles? You don’t want to sound paranoid.

You decide to text your mom, “Are you coming home soon?” and then texting Stiles, “SOS.” You weren’t going to risk talking out loud if there was a tweaking madman entering the house in search of you.

There was the familiar creak of the squeaky floorboard in the hall that usually signaled that your parents were up and about. Whatever that thing was… it was moving past your room and further down the hall.

Your phone begins to buzz with a call from Stiles. You quickly decline, stopping the buzzing sound. You do the same with the next call he tries to make.

A steely cold burrows in your skin, ears trained for any sound coming from outside. You sit on the bathmat, holding your phone so it puts an eerie light across your face. Stiles resorts to texting you.

“I’m already on my way.”

“Are you okay? What’s going on?”

“Why aren’t you picking up your phone?”

“I’m right down the street.”

You tap out a reply, your breath shaky against your knees as they’re pressed to your chest. “There’s something in my house.”

You hear something from your parents bedroom.

“Are you somewhere safe?” Stiles replies. “What is it?”

You move your thumbs quickly, “It’s right outside the door.”

Your phone continues to buzz with frantic replies from Stiles, but you’re preoccupied with the slow, terrifying turning of the doorknob. It squeaks metallically as it’s manipulated. And after a few tries the creature stops.

The door then rattles with a sudden roar of noise. Scraping hands bang against the wood, the panels straining under the force of whatever is on the other side. You scream as a howl penetrates your ears.

The same howl you heard outside your bedroom window.

Fear envelopes you as you scramble to the far wall, screwing up the bathmat and knocking the shampoo bottle off the side of the tub. You resort to dialing 911 as the door bends under the hands of the growling creature.

“(Y/N)!”

Another voice comes from downstairs and you’re afraid to reply, “Stiles!?”

Heavy footfalls are coming up the stairs as the creature hesitates in its assault on the door. You pull at the collar of your pajamas, choking on your breath as your heart fails to oxygenate your body.

The voice of Stiles is so near, you fear for his safety as the creature howls again. But what Stiles says puts you into more shock.

“Scott, calm down buddy. You don’t want to do this,” he sounds full of fear, “This isn’t you, man. Snap out of it!”

You gasp for breath, clawing at your own chest as your heart works in overtime. You can barely register the things you hear on the other side of the door.

A different growl was sounding and (what you hope isn’t) Scott turns toward it. Stiles was encouraging the action.

“Go after the howls, Scott. Go join your other werewolf friends! Get out of here!”

It turns into Stiles banging on the bathroom door – with much less force than whatever power Scott possessed.

“(Y/N)? (Y/N), open the door please. It’s just me – Scott left with Derek. I promise it’s safe now.” He must’ve checked his phone because now he was speaking with a new level of panic, “Hold on, (Y/N). Just try to breathe! Focus on your surroundings – ground yourself!”

He was jumping and searching for those emergency bathroom keys that were sometimes left on the molding above the door. Thankfully your parents never took chances and kept those keys there.

Stiles was cursing himself for fumbling the key in the lock, forcing it open. He fell to the floor with his momentum, slipping on the tile to get to you.

“Holy shit – oh my god. (Y/N), you need to breathe.” He kneels beside you and puts a hand over yours holding your chest, “Just take a breath, please.” Your lips were turning blue from the lack of oxygen. Your eyes were fluttering shut.

Stiles was rubbing your hand against your chest, wrapping his other arm around your shoulders and shaking you into him. “Stay with me, (Y/N). You can’t pass out while you’re not breathing.”

You gasp something shallow, but it was the first breath he hears you take, “That’s it… god.” He puts his head against yours, “You can do it, take another.”

He holds you as you start to take more shallow breaths, each getting stronger by the second. The darkness creeping into your star-spangled vision became clearer; and the tingling in your hands and feet lessen.

Stiles is whispering quiet praises to whatever power helps you breathe evenly again. He holds up your wrist and watches your heart rate lower out of danger.

You rest against his chest, your head laying against his collarbone. You sound out of breath as you say, “You have… explaining to do.”

He chuckles solemnly, your head bouncing against his chest, “Remember that thing that wasn’t exactly mine to tell?”

“Scott?”

“Yeah,” he says, “Something happened when we found Derek’s dead sister in the woods… Scott was bit.” He was grateful for not looking at your reaction, just holding you close as your heartbeat steadies. “He was bit by a werewolf.”

You weakly smack his arm, “Bullshit.”

“Not even a little bit. Our friend is a werewolf. And so is Derek,” he says, “That’s why Derek has been invading – he’s trying to help Scott take control.”

“I don’t believe you,” you say, still sounding out of breath. Your head was aching with the lack of oxygen.

Stiles takes a deep breath, making you rise and fall against him. “Derek isn’t the serial killer attacking everyone. All those kills were done by the Alpha – that’s the big bad wolf that bit Scott and is trying to make him a part of his pack.”

“An Alpha?” you want to laugh but know it would send you into a coughing fit.

“Yes, and on the full moon the Alpha has more control over Scott. The moon has been messing with him all day, which you witnessed firsthand.”

That gives you a shiver, forcing you up from the ground, gripping the bathtub for support.

“Woah,” Stiles gets up with you, hands hovering at your back, “Take it slow.”

“You’re telling me the reason Scott has been snapping at everyone and shoving his tongue down my throat is because of the full moon?”

“Shoves his what down your what?”

You stand straight and nearly blackout until you hold onto the glass shower door. “Where is he now?” You start stumbling out of the bathroom and towards your bedroom, the perfect view of the front yard.

Stiles slips on the tile to follow you, terrified you were going to fall again.

Looking out the window, bathed in moonlight, you spy two beings on the edge of the street – heading towards the forest. Glowing eyes, pointed ears, furry faces, and snarling fangs. They were disappearing into the night.

What you saw before the home invasion was real.

“Was Derek bitten by the Alpha too?”

“Uh… no,” Stiles says, looking at you like a bomb about to go off. He was waiting for the outrage. “He was born a werewolf. He just wants to kill the Alpha for killing his sister. Scott is his link.”

You flex your hands, getting the feeling back in your fingers, “You were already on your way when I texted you. How did you know I was in trouble?” You could hear the audible breath Stiles took, the sound of him scratching his shaved head.

“To make him a part of his pack, the Alpha wants Scott to get rid of his old pack. Me, Allison, Lydia and Jackson… and you.” He takes a pause, “I knew he’d go after one of us under the control of the full moon.”

“You were doing research on the hunting habits of wolves today,” you whisper as the memory appears, running your fingers through your hair.

Stiles tries to focus on how beautiful you look in the moonlight. Beautiful and alive. Thank god Derek showed up.

“You’re right. And I knew wolves take their time with their targets…”

“The weakest and sickest of the herd,” you whisper again. “He was wearing me down today. He cornered me and… it was like he could smell the fear on me.”

Stiles swallows hard, his hands balling into fists, “Yeah. He was making a plan who to pick off one at a time.”

You fold your arms, nodding thoughtfully, wishing the headache to go away. “As far as secrets go… that is one hell of one.”

Stiles wrings his hands, “Yeah, you can see why we don’t want to rope too many people into it.”

“Who knows?” you ask, still debating your options.

“Derek and myself,” he sighs, watching your closed off stance. “But who else knows about werewolves? The Argents do.”

Your brow furrows, still staring out the window, “Allison’s family?”

“Her parents and her Aunt Kate,” he nods, “They’re werewolf hunters. Have been for centuries and it’s part of the reason they moved here.”

“Allison?”

“As far as we know, she’s clueless about the whole thing. But now that she’s spending so much time at home because of the breakup… I think her aunt my have a little too much influence.”

Your fingers dig into your arms, “Interesting.”

Stiles lets the silence hit for a few seconds before inching towards you more, “Interesting?”

You feel the hurt start to creep into your chest. The kind of aching hurt that only comes from feeling betrayal and an overwhelmingness to hide. “I think you should go, Stiles.”

He stands straight, “What?”

Tilting your head over your shoulder, you mumble, “I’ve heard enough and I would like you to leave. My mom will be home soon.” You stay where you are, feeling in need of a long sleep. “I need time to process. I need time alone. Thank you for coming for me and telling me the truth, but I want to be by myself now.”

He bites his tongue, “Are you sure?”

“Goodnight, Stiles.”

“(Y/N), listen to me. It was scary at first for me too,” he sounds nervous, “I know it’s a shock, but…”

“Please leave, Stilinski. I won’t ask again.”

He huffs his frustration, “Okay, I get it. Will you at least tell me when your mom gets here? Just so I know you’re…”

“My mom is on the same dispatch call your dad is tonight. When he gets home you’ll know my mom is getting home too.”

It was quiet after that, Stiles taking a few steps back and grinding his teeth. He was almost out the door when he says, “I’m glad you’re safe, (Y/N).”

Minutes later you watch the blue jeep drive away. An hour later you’re still standing at the window, basking in the cool moonlight. Two hours later your mom enters the driveway.

And you’re finally able to step away and lower your arms – lightheaded from your locked knees.

“Oh, hello sweetie,” Angela says at the door, Ollie at her ankles. “Why are you still awake?”

You let the exhaustion show, “I couldn’t sleep. I wanted to wait until you got home.”

Your mom pouts, walking to you with open arms, “I could use a hug too.” You embrace and feel the knots of tension in her shoulders.

“Long call?”

Angela holds you back by the shoulders and inspects your tiresome complexion. “There were another couple deaths in the forest. It’s being ruled an accident for now, might’ve just fallen in a bonfire because they were drunk.”

“Died in a fire?” you say with a gruesome wince.

“Yep,” your mother sighs, “It was nice seeing your dad though. Fire department was called too.” She ponders your expression, “Why can’t you sleep?”

You lick your dry lips, “My heart has been all over the place. It’s hard to relax.”

Brows knitted, Angela puts a hand to the side of your face, “You feeling stressed at all?”

“You could say that. There’s been drama in the friend group.”

She nods and kisses your hairline, “I’ll make us some tea. Let me put my things away and we can hang out on the couch.” She’s satisfied with your small smile, leaving for her bedroom.

It was just dawning on you that she might see something when she yells…

“Hey, what are these claw marks in my bathroom door!?”

You rub harshly at your tired eyes, “Um… Ollie got into the catnip again?”

~~~

School had gotten strange the next week. It was already tense with Scott and Allison’s breakup, but now that you weren’t talking to the boys… it had felt very estranged. Both Scott and Stiles had tried to contact you, but you still need some time.

The bombshell of the things going on in Beacon Hills was a lot to take in.

It made your little secret seem minor in comparison.

You were sitting in the lunchroom, picking at your meal with your other friends. Jackson had been tense with Lydia the last few weeks and you could smell another breakup coming. His mild jackassery was starting to get on your nerves as he ignores you and the girls.

“He seriously started sending you pictures of you two together?” Lydia sneers, “What kind of move is that?”

“He’s trying to get back together with you,” you say a little melancholy.

Allison plays with her necklace, lost in thought, “It felt like he was trying to make me feel bad for breaking up with him.”

“He is completely clueless,” you sigh, “Most idiots in love are.”

Lydia squints her eyes at you suspiciously, “Speaking of idiots in love. Do you care to explain why you’re also ignoring dork #1 and dork #2?”

Your eyes momentarily shift across the cafeteria to where Scott and Stiles were eating. Stiles was shoving a chicken tender into his mouth with his usual amount of grace. The rest of his tray held macaroni and cheese… a painful memory of him telling you about the gourmet mac and cheese his mom used to make.

“Nothing just… some weird things happened.”

“Like dork #2 confessing his obvious feelings for you?” Lydia continues. “I don’t blame you for rejecting him. He’s a little weirdo.”

You snap your head to her, “You mean Stiles?”

“He’s been drooling over you since you started school,” Allison agrees, “Scott used to tell me about it.”

You shove your lunch tray away, “No! I wasn’t aware anyone was harboring any feelings for me.”

“Well, if we stick to that topic,” Lydia purses her lips, “Andrew Wickstrom is also a harborer of feelings.”

“And maybe two others on the lacrosse team,” Allison chuckles.

You shake your head, closing your eyes momentarily, “No, in fact Scott came onto me.” You rub at your temples, listening to Allison hold her breath.

“Excuse me?”

You look to her, sorrowful in how you say, “He cornered me and kissed me.”

“What!?”

“It was quick and only the one time. He said he was just trying to get his mind off you. I slapped him and everything,” you say with a little more urgency, “And obviously he’s super regretful because now he’s trying to get on your good side again.”

“What a little shit,” Lydia curses.

Allison was even more visibly upset than before, “I can’t believe that.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, “I didn’t want to tell you, but you deserve to know. Scott wasn’t himself that day. He’s been really wrecked.”

“That’s not a good enough excuse,” Allison mutters.

“Has he apologized at all?” Lydia asks with an edge of rage.

You shrug, “I haven’t exactly given him the chance to. That’s why I haven’t been talking to them.” You look to Allison with slanted brows, “I’m really sorry, Allison. I tried to make him stop.”

She shakes her head, snapping herself out of whatever fogginess had invaded her mind. “It wasn’t your fault. I don’t blame you.” She looks toward the boys before standing, “I need the bathroom.”

You nod, giving her space, instead watching Jackson stare down someone from across the cafeteria. Lydia was looking at him too with some semblance of impatience and frustration. In a nonchalant move, Jackson steals the green apple from your forgotten tray.

“How are you two?” you whisper to Lydia.

She scowls, “He’s been a little cozy with Allison if I’m being honest,” she picks a tomato from her salad. “We don’t talk much anymore, just the occasional make out and quickie in the car.”

You refrain from grimacing, “What is going on with everyone?”

“With spring comes all new drama,” she smiles derisively, “Springtime fever as they call it.”

Jackson suddenly stands and leaves them to gossip. Lydia follows him with her eyes, a moment of hurt flashing through them.

“I don’t think I can take much more drama,” you sigh with a fake smile, “My heart can’t take it.”

Lydia looks to you with genuine sympathy. You had grown to love the moments when she was real. “Then it’s a good thing we’re all taking a break. We’re the perfect girl squad. No boys allowed.”

You smile a little wider, “I’d like that.”

Your last period after lunch was gym, which usually consisted of you doing things for Coach since you had a doctor’s note banning you from raising your heart rate. While everyone was in the locker rooms changing, you talk with Finstock.

“I don’t care what they do today, Westbrook,” he groans, his whistle swinging around his neck, “I’m too busy drawing up plays for the game tonight. Bring out the basketballs and jump ropes and freaking hopscotch, I don’t care. Hell, let them use the pools to swim laps.” He scratches at his crazed hair, “Just make them do something for the period – and don’t come looking for me. Thanks, Westbrook.”

You blow out a whistled sigh, “No problem, Coach.” You roll out the cart of basketballs and volleyballs, a couple jump ropes dangling on the side. Your classmates start to trickle out in their gym attire.

Using your loudest voice you announce it was going to be a free workout period – they’re free to use the pools or the gym as long as they’re engaging in a sport of some kind.

Allison voices her wish to swim and Jackson is quick to agree, leading the way back to the lockers. Scott doesn’t say a word, just mindlessly follows them at a distance.

You watch many hands go for the gym equipment, a basketball falling to the floor. You catch it as it tries to bounce away.

“Hey, Westbrook!”

You look up to see Andrew holding his hands up for the ball. A smile on your lips, you pass the ball, pleased it lands right in his hands.

“How are you?” he asks, walking up to you. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

You push some hair behind your ear, “Oh, just some post sickness keeping me away. I’m all good now.” You put your hands in your pockets, his lovely curly hair in ringlets against his forehead. “How have you been?”

“Not gonna lie,” he spins the basketball on his index finger, “I’ve missed seeing you at lacrosse and keeping Finstock in line in economics.”

You fold your arms, watching the ball spin, “It is good seeing you. I didn’t get a chance to talk to you much last practice – how’s the nose?”

He puts the ball under his arm and leans down to your height, “How does it look?” he grimaces comically, “I don’t dare look – I bet it’s grotesque and crooked and completely messed up.”

You giggle, clamping your index finger and thumb around the arch of his nose, “It looks fine to me.” You wiggle his face around and shove him away, noticing the adorable dimples coming out on his cheeks. “I’m glad it wasn’t something worse.”

“Yeah, McCall was in a funk that day.”

“That’s one word for it.” You sigh, “You going to show me some moves?” You gesture to the basketball, “Any three-pointers?”

He smiles bright, dribbling the ball, “If I make a three-pointer… how about you go on that date with me?”

Your cheeks feel warm as you try to contain your smile, “It’s a deal. Shoot straight, Wickstrom.”

He winks at you and goes for the three-point line outside the black arc surrounding the basket. He dribbles the ball twice before bending his knees and taking aim. With an arm extension, the ball flies in a smooth arch right into the basket.

Andrew holds his arm in that shooting pose, turning to you with a flush growing across his nose, “Nothing but net.”

“Jokes on you,” you say in a sweet voice that was feigning confidence, “I would’ve gone out with you even if you hadn’t made the shot.”

He laughs, walking up to you once more, “Does Friday sound good? Seven o’ clock?”

You say, “Sounds perfect.”

Before he jogs off to join the shirts and skins game being created on the sidelines, he looks at you with his warm expression. “Are you coming to the game tonight?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I might have a girls night…”

“I thought you had to help Finstock being his TA?”

“Oh, no – that’s just during school hours. I’m a regular fan in the stands during games.” You rub awkwardly at your arms as you say, “Things have been tense with some of the lacrosse players.”

He nods, his face suddenly serious with understanding. “I get it. I’m not saying you have to come… but I would love to see you there. Do what’s best for you.”

You take a genuine sigh of relief, “I needed that.” You nod your head towards the team huddles, “Now go earn your gym credit.”

“Finstock isn’t here, Westbrook,” he shrugs, already backing away.

“But he’s left me in charge; I could still fail you.”

He winks again, “You wouldn’t do that to me, sweetheart.”

You laugh as he retreats, but you know what he says is true. You were just glad to be moving on to perhaps a semi-normal relationship with someone that didn’t tangle with werewolves or supernatural hunters or murder investigations.

Stiles was sitting on the bleachers with a couple other kids not wanting to play the games. Each on their phone or reading a book or talking with a friend. Stiles was sitting between the benches, his legs hanging over the side.

He had a deep scowl on his face and twitchy fingers rotating his phone in his palm. He watches your exchange with Andrew with heat in his stomach. He was furious at the entire situation.

Upset that you hadn’t explained your distance. Angry that he hadn’t told you the truth sooner. Mad at himself for letting Scott loose on the full moon. Irritated that his life was consumed by Scott’s problems to the point that he felt like a major comedic side character. One that doesn’t usually get the girl.

But most of all furious that the guy you decide to date isn’t a bad guy at all. Andrew is kind and funny and supportive. He’s such a good guy that Stiles couldn’t be mad at him. And that made him even more mad.

~~~

Taglist: @assassinsasha23 @tasty-book-fans @lovelybaka @the-fandom-queen @runs-with-sciss0rs @iamaslytherin0 @n3muru @bethsvrse @taylorbrooke-0912

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Addiction

Like Martin Luther baby I had a dream and wrote it down 😭😭 Hope you guys enjoy it🥺🫶🏾 Also heavy inspired by (THIS)

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In moments like these Trinity really sat and wondered if this was something healthy. Her husband was always on her case about being healthy, always trying to get her to eat the right meals and to throw away her sweets. One thing about Trin, she had a sweet tooth; addicted to things that made her feel good even if it wasn’t good for her and Jonathan was always there to put her in check and keep her in line.

But this…. Jonathon encouraged. When he found out about it, he pushed her to keep doing it and she really wondered: was this healthy for my marriage? But then again, did it matter? Did it matter when the moment was everything she’s ever wanted and more? It made her feel good, and she was always addicted to thing that made her feel good.

"You feel good baby?" Alexis whispered in her ear drawing her back to reality. Once again, Trinity found herself back at her best friends house. Both of them stripped from clothing and in her bed.

Alexis leaned against her headboard with Trinity’s back pressing to her chest. Alexis’ hands were trailing up and down her body in a sensual manner, massaging the coco butter scented body oil into her skin. Trinity let her head fall backwards to Alexis’ shoulder and nodded her head.

Alexis caressed Trin’s breast with one hand and finally let other hand slip two fingers into her. A small moan slips through her lips and her hips moves to chase Alexis’ fingers as they started to create their own pace.

Sweat inked their skin from the foreplay already, they burned for each other and it sucked for Alexis when her best friend was always on the road because she always miss having her in this element. She tries to savor each and every moment but she always gets lost in the moment, her priority always being that she made Trin cum for her.

The squelching noise could be heard in the room as she continued to thrust her fingers in Trinity. Her other hand tweaking and pulling on Trinity’s nipples to further the stimulation of pleasure running down her body.

Trinity’s moans were louder now and Alexis let out her own moan of appreciation. "This my pussy?" Alexis asked softly in her ear.

"Yes baby." Trinity moaned out, bucking her hip against Alex’s hand. Her eyes were damn near glued to the back of her head with the sensations that were flowing throughout her body because fuck.

"Alex." Trin softly called out and Alexis didn’t really need the warning. She knew, she always knew with the way her walls her clenching against her fingers.

"You gonna cum for me baby? Mama making her pretty pussy cum?"

"Yess, gonna make me cum." Trinity whined out, "F-fuck, don’t stop… please." She begged and she never would.

"M’not even gone for 10 whole minutes and look at you." Another voice rings out into the room.

In the midst of them being lost in each other, they didn’t hear the front door open and close. Missed the heavy footsteps that treaded up the stairs nor did they sense the extra pair of eyes watching them.

Alexis’ eyes slitted up to her door, where Jonathan stood leaning against her doorway. Her fingers never ceased their pace, Trinity let out another moan and arched her back as she felt herself cum.

"There we go mama, let it out." Alexis whispered, her eyes never leaving Jonathan’s as she slowed down her thrusting to let Trinity ride out her high.

Jonathan kept his gaze on Alexis while Trinity tried to catch her breath. His only problem with this picture was Alexis was almost trying to assert her dominance to him and he just couldn’t have that.

"You looking for sum’ Lexie?" He questioned, pushing himself off the door to walk towards the two.

Alexis felt the shivers run up her back, the slow steps that Jonathan took to them were calculated, he was trying to get her to fix herself but it was too late, being with Trinity always flared the dominant side of her. "No." She whispered to him, she didn’t want to challenge Jon today, not when she just got them back.

Jon stood in front them, and a smirk took over his face, raising an eyebrow at Alexis almost amusingly. "Just eager to put hands on Trin huh?”

“We missed each other.” Trinity stated, turning her head to face her husband.

Jon smiled sweetly at his wife, her head was still leaned back against Alexis’ shoulder and Alexis’ arms were still holding her tightly. The small affection between the two pulled on his heartstrings, something he wasn’t going to admit out loud yet because of how complicated everything was between the three of them.

“And what about me?” He asked tilting his head to the side at the girls.

“Missed you too baby.” Alexis cooed, tilting her head up at Jon and puckering her lips for a kiss.

Jonathan smirked, leaning down to press his lips against hers in a slow kiss. “I thought I told y’all to wait for me?”

“It was me Jurdy, I started it. I couldn’t help it.” Trin confessed and in retrospect, Trinity shouldn’t have been okay with seeing her husband kiss another women, her best friend no less but she was okay with it. More than okay with it when all three of them being together made her feel a euphoric feeling that she’d never felt before.

“Wanna show you guys something I bought on the road for you.” Trin stated with a smile sliding off of Alexis to go retrieve her ‘gift’, pushing Jon to take a seat in her place. “Just wait here and I’m gonna go get it.” With a quick kiss to her husband she was quick to leave.

Showing back up to the room to find Alexis in the same position she was in not too long ago and she smiled at the scene in front of her. Jonathan caught her gaze and was whispering in Alexis ear.

“Look at what she bought for you Lexie.” He whispered huskily in her ear as he continue to thrust his fingers in and out of Alexis. “Come give her some love Trin.”

And it was as if her foot had a mind of its own, walking towards the two and crawling on the bed to add herself to the equation. Alexis tilting her head up to look at Trin and tried to appreciate the outfit that she had on for them but Jonathan’s fingers pressed against her spot which caused her to loudly moan.

“Feels good huh baby?” Trin whispered, a small smirked on her face as she reversed the gesture back to Alexis.

Alexis nods her head and Trin closes the spaces between them. This moment was the only moment that mattered to all three of them, no matter how unorthodox this seemed to anybody. Their desires for each other was something that could’ve been only described as sweet, something so good that you can’t walk away from it.

Jonathan, Trinity and Alexis found themselves lost in each other like an addiction and it wasn’t something they were looking for a remedy for any time soon.

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👀 ya’ll just as gay as me or am I a problem? Lol ENJOY THOUGH

[mistressroxielove]

Hey everyone~ I'm back, and this time with a new fixation!

Long story short, I've discovered the new Fairly Oddparents reboot, absolutely loved it and was inspired to make this AU idea for the show! With a slight reimagine/redesign of the characters as well. And the first one I decided to do was Peri!

Here's some more info about my AU:

Fairly Odd Parents AU/Rewrite

Au Name: FairlyOdd Brother

Summary:

Perri (previously known as Poof) recently graduated from Fairy Godparents School and is eager to start granting Wishes for his very own godchild! Only problem is that with his lack of experience Jorgen is weary of giving him an assignment and keeps finding excuses/reasons to not give him a godkid. Realizing it might be a 1,000 years before they give him a chance to be a Fairy Godparent, Perri decides he needs to be a little bold and perhaps, bend Da Rules, to get his foot in the door so to speak. And his answer comes to him from a new neighbor in his human home, a family with a sweet shy 10 year old girl who is absolutely miserable. Perhaps Perri might be able to offer this girl a little comfort and fun as her new Fairy Godbrother!?

(Basically the same premise of the show, except Perri’s first godchild is Hazel, and through a technicality in the rule book, becomes her god brother instead of her godparent.)

ALSO please note this AU is more of a slight reimagine of the original show, meaning I did tweaked / changed some of the characters personality to match the new story I made for them. Nothing majorly different, but again just a heads up before you read on. Hope you like it~

Name: Hazel Wells

Age: 10

Sex: Female

Physical Description: 

Basically the same as the show's design, I slightly changed her shirt to become a sweater with a turtleneck. I sorta did that by accident when drawing her, but I ended up really liking the look and thought it matched the semi new personality I gave her so I kept it. 

Personality: 

-Hazel is a very sweet and kind person with some quirky interest, more or less similar to the canon version of her in the show

-The big difference between my Hazel and the shows is that she’s much more shy and awkward than in the actual show

-Feeling very out of place in a new city/school with her brother off at college and her parents working much more than usual has left the poor girl more shy and anxiety ridden than usual. 

-She still likes rocks and manga like in the show, but in her old school she was bullied and made fun of for her interest, so she’s more shy/embarrassed to admit what she likes

-But she still tries to be a good person and do the right thing whenever she can, just again she hindered by her shyness and fear of being bullied and made fun of, just wants to fit in and be an average kid

Other fun facts:

-Was bullied a lot in her last school, her parents and teacher tried to help her but despite their best effort it did little to stop the problem. It wasn’t until her older brother Anthony started to walk her to and from school that helped deter the other bullies from picking on her. Though Anthony meant well for helping his little sister, his method of helping her did little to teach Hazel how to actually stand up for herself and how to deal with bullies in general. Now without him around and her parents busy with their work, she is unintentionally thrown into a new situation with no social skills on how to defend herself from other people or how to even make any friends (she didn’t really have any of those back home). But perhaps with the help of a certain periwinkle fairy she might be able to learn to socialize and how to defend herself from bullies, and hopefully become just an average kid with friends and learn to thrive in the new city. 

-Essentially Peri is the one to teach and encourage her to be more bold, as he’s the one to really get her to make wishes freely and to try new things and to teach her to not be afraid of anyone or anything, slowly with his help she becomes more and more like the canon version of Hazel in the show. As Peri ends up being a good role model to her.   

Short summary of how she ended up with Peri:

Moving into a new city feeling all alone. Since her parents are excited to be here with both of them finally getting their dream jobs, Hazel tries to act ‘mature’ about the situation and tries to put on a brave face for her parents. But in reality is having a hard time in her new environment, as she finds herself in a new school and too shy to make friends, let alone talk to anyone. The only person talking to her is Dev who is supposedly ‘famous’ or something. (she doesn’t recognize him and doesn’t really acknowledge him, much to Dev’s surprise). 

If that wasn’t bad enough her parents are working much more at their new jobs and have essentially left her to be watched by the neighbor next door, a strange though friendly guy named Peri. She and Peri get along okay, and she’s mostly pushed through with the reminder that her brother will be visiting this weekend, and surely once she talks to him she’ll know everything will be just fine.

But things fall apart when being watched by Peri she gets a call from her brother stating due to the weather he won’t be able to visit this week and won’t be able to come up until at least his next break, Which is a couple months away! Distraught by this news Hazel prepares to pack up and leave to try and somehow get to her brother on her own, only to be stopped by her ‘babysitter’ who tries to reason with her and talk her out of it. Despite his usually persuasive ways she’s simply too upset to think straight and in a fit of frustration wishes she could just fly to Anthony. Which, similar to the actual show's first episode, causes Peri to turn her into a fly!  

The part of the episode happens similar to the original first episode, with Peri trying to get Hazel home before her parents come back from their work. He eventually does but again similar to the first episode Hazel gets stuck in a venus fly trap as Peri tries to get her to wish to turn back into her original form. After the talk with the ant Hazel realizes her mistake and finally wishes to become human again before her parents could discover what went wrong.

After the commotion, Hazel goes to Peri’s apartment to question who he is and what the heck just happened. Peri tries to deny it but during their conversation he realizes that technically speaking…..Hazel did have good and caring parents. They weren’t the reason why she was sad and miserable, she was miserable because her brother wasn’t with her anymore and she desperately missed him. And technically speaking, there was no rule or need to ask Jorgen or the fairy council to become a kids Godbrother. He only needed their permission to be a Godparent. And besides……..he more than understood the feeling of missing a big brother.

After talking and realizing just how miserable this poor girl was, Peri decides to take a gamble and formally introduce himself to her as her new Fairy Godbrother! In similar fashion to how he introduced himself to Dev in the original show. Making a promise to take Hazel from being a shy and scared girl into a brave and bold kid with lots of fun and magic along the way. 

Hazel, after the smoke and glitter shimmers away for the first time, feels pure joy at the sight, and for the first time feels confident and even excited for the future, and what this city and the people have to offer her! 

Sooooo ya, tell me what you guys think! Any questions or suggestions for the AU I would love to hear, good to be back!

Previous - Next

[catmeme]

my goal with plushies has been to make a perfect cat. i've done 5 different pattern tests so far, each one getting a bit closer than the last! this was the first one, made from a 1980s mccall's sewing pattern. her name is Lumpy and she's big and cuddly.

the second test was Scrappy Cat 1, made from a shrunken down version of Lumpy's pattern. the head shape doesn't really read "cat" to me so most of the following tests have just been focusing on getting the head shape right.

test three was Scrappy Cat 2! getting closer to a more kitty like head shape. i wanted the snout to have more definition instead of the head being sort of bullet shaped.

test four ended up being Plaid Puppy. i tweaked the shape of the head and it looked more like a lil dog than a cat, so i gave her some floppy ears and kept it. she's one of my favs.

test five started out with the same head pattern as puppy, but a slightly shorter snout. i ended up with this blocky headed thing that didn't look like a cat or dog.

i scrapped that head and started test 5.5, trying to replicate the head shape of a beanie buddy cat i have, which gave me Space Cat! not perfect yet, it needs some tweaking to make it fit better with the pattern of the body, but still the closest i've gotten so far!

i've already made some adjustments to the pattern and started cutting out the fabric for test six, hopefully that one gives me a perfect cat! we shall see

[thatguythatdrawsalot]

Weiss - Atlas Design Critique.

Wow, I’m back to do two things useful with my RWBY Archives, talk about Weiss’ canon look in Atlas, and redesign her. I’m gonna talk about her actual look first, as the character notes on her dedicated page made me… hate the look much more. It was already in my top ten least favorite designs in RWBY but NOW it’s in the top five. RWBY Archives

I’ve been wanting to know why they thought it was a great idea for Weiss to wear a restricting-looking dress in the North Pole. Why does she choose to look like a wealthy princess when she is no longer tied to money or her family? The book gave me an answer I was not expecting… they just wanted to make her look like a wizard. I HATE IT. It’s bad enough that Weiss just summons, but this has to be some animation trick. They didn’t want to animate Weiss fighting like a ballerina anymore, so it was best she stuck to just summoning and only uses Myrenaster as a glorified wand. You might as well dress Weiss in whatever way you want cause all she does is stand and point… and whenever she does try to fight it looks janky as hell.

No way did they think Weiss could fight in a dress, Maria and Cinder could, but no way can I see Weiss fight like THIS anymore. 

Hair

Now I don’t wanna disrespect the modeler cause I’ve seen their Artstation account. They modeled the Gods’ dragon forms, Winter, and Jaune! Models that look good! But the hair… they struggled and the backlash was hard cause they tweaked her hair again for Volume 8. I’m surprised they chose to change it when the people in charge should’ve changed it before Volume 7 even aired. It just tells me their standards are low and don’t give a crap about the product unless they need the fans to say something. The huge mass on top of her hair was so jarring I was convinced Weiss just took Blake’s chopped hair, dyed it, and applied it to hers. 

Primary Color - White?

Blake is wearing more white than her, The Ace Ops are wearing more white than her, and Jacques is wearing more white than her- Weiss’ colors are perfect if she was representing the color blue and her name was something like Azure. The tiny reds don’t make an impact, wouldn’t surprise me if people didn’t know there was red inside of the dress. The super blue for her puffy jacket can’t be found anywhere else to balance that color, and her whites are then covered by grays. It’s like too many colors, what else can I say other than SHOWING what they could’ve done in the choice of color placements.

Positives?

This is gonna sound like an odd positive but I think she looks downright gorgeous in Ever After. The whacky princess look standing next to the Red Prince was amazing. It made me wish Weiss was the ‘Red Queen’ for The Ever After, similar to how Neo was ‘The Mad Hatter’ and Jaune being ‘The White Rabbit.’ It really could’ve tied in well. 

Redesign

I miss redesigning a character; I kept in mind that White is primary, the tiara is no longer a staple to her design since she is no longer tied to wealth or even the heiress, and that her Volume 6 leggings and scarf stay intact. Why make accessories to protect her from the cold, but when she gets to a colder place she ditches them for a boob-window and bare legs that can make anyone freeze to death up in the north??? Side note; It’s not perfect, I’m not saying mine is better than the originals or anyone else’s this is just how I would’ve designed her or at least kept in mind to make a priority for the design. I also wanna say, yes, this outfit does look similar to another redesign of Weiss that someone else has made. I drew the design first before I went to Google to check if the look did look similar to someone else’s and I was like “Oops.” It wasn’t the intention, just coincidence. I didn’t steal.

Conclusion

It looks like the Atlas designs had a very huge backlash by just how BAD they were, as it now affects the girl's presumed Volume 10 looks in Vacuo, they have Weiss in white, ditched the chunky braid, and kept her in a presumed combat skirt than a restricting dress.  Either A.) The original character designer for team RWBY finally took constructive criticism to get the girls back to themselves B.) They no longer design the girls and Viz Media put in a new artist for the team or C.) Vacuo designs were much easier to make than Atlas.

These options can be wrong too these are just my little theories, end of the day we got a design for Weiss that just shouldn’t have made it into the show. A design that didn’t represent white, displays wealth when trying to distance herself from her family/company, a huge animation restriction, and overall one of the worst outfits I’ve seen put on Weiss Schnee.

But of course it’s just my opinion. If you love this design or hate the design, please share your opinion. I’d love to hear it! :D

[whumpy-wyrms]

The Last Lab Rat #17: Close Your Eyes

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content: lab whump, captivity, clones, drugging, dehumanization, nonsexual nudity, murder mention, restraints, experimentation, mind control, noncon body modification, eye whump, medical whump, winged test subject whumpee, creepy scientist carewhumper

teehee Dew finally gets ice cream in this one yay

(if you can’t read this because of the eye whump, here’s an eye whumpless summary!)

— 

Anton was up late into the night, getting his test subject’s new clone ready. As Dew slept, Anton had injected him with something that’d make sure he wouldn’t wake up in the night during this ordeal. He didn’t want Dew awake and watch another clone come to life. He didn’t want Dew to watch Anton set another version of him free.

The cloning machine was on the other side of the lab anyway, so Dew would hardly be able to see it from his room. Still, it was a necessary precaution. Dew was already going through so much pain; he didn’t need more stuff to worry about.

Anton was far too familiar with making clones. He’d spent five years of his life alone in his lab with nobody to experiment on besides himself and his clones; he’d grown familiar with the process of making and breaking multiple versions of himself. He’d grown used to not viewing these things as real people, because they weren’t.

The process was always the same. Inject a DNA sample into the machine, and wait a couple of days. The clone would come out with all of the memories of its original, it would… most of the time be an exact copy. Of course, Dew’s clone couldn’t be an exact copy of him now, not with his wings, so Anton had to do some tweaking. Make a clone of the old clone; a copy of a copy. Easy enough. No harm, no foul.

In the early days of making clones of himself, there was a recurring problem Anton had noticed. There were too many times where a new Anton would see himself standing before him, lab coat bloodied and hair disheveled, and know right away what its pathetic life would be used for. There were too many times where the clone would fight back, try to outsmart him and escape.

He needed a way to keep himself safe— from himself— so he implemented something into the machine that sedated when they first came out. It kept them weak and docile, lessened the shock of being a test subject, and kept them unable to fight back. It’d come in handy now, as well.

The machine whirred to life, lights lighting up and beeping. Anton didn’t miss that sound in the slightest. It brought him back to his darkest times, times he honestly wouldn't mind to forget completely, if he hadn’t already.

After a few moments, the clone was ready. Anton swallowed his nerves and walked up to the machine.

“Hello,” Anton said, helping the new Dew step out of the machine.

“Hi,” the clone said, looking up at Anton with wide, curious eyes. It stood in front of him, calm and relaxed. It wasn’t wearing any clothes, but it didn’t care. It just stared ahead. So innocent. So blissfully oblivious to the horrors just under its nose.

“Do you know your name?”

“It’s Dew…” The clone looked around, curious eyes dancing across the strange and unfamiliar laboratory. Though, it didn’t look scared. It turned its gaze back to Anton. “Where am I?”

“Don’t worry your silly little head about that,” Anton said, patting the clone on the head. “Put these on.” The scientist handed the clone some folded up clothes, and stepped away.

It felt wrong, to Anton. This wasn’t the Dew he had grown familiar with the past couple months. It didn’t have top surgery. It didn’t have wings. It was just a lie made to keep his friends at bay. All Anton saw when he looked at this thing was all his hard work gone. This clone wasn’t the real Dew, and for that, he despised it.

Anton shook those thoughts away. Of course this wasn’t the real Dew, that was the point. The real Dew would be safe with him, here. He never needed to think about clones again after this.

After the clone was dressed, it started looking around again, expression noticeably more dazed than before.

“Woah, what’s that thing?” It said, looking closely at a giant cylindrical tube-like vat of green fluid. It was tall, going up all the way to the ceiling, and the glass looked very thick. There was nothing inside of it besides a bright green and glowing fluid that was mesmerizing to look at. And even though the rest of the lab was dark, this lit up the area around them well enough.

“Nothing. Follow me.” Anton grabbed its arm and swiftly led it out of the lab before it could ask any more questions.

“What’s going on?” It asked, catching up to Anton’s pace.

“I’m taking you home.”

“Oh. Who are you?”

“…It doesn’t matter.”

“Oh.” Besides the pair of footsteps, there was a long silence as they walked up the stairs. “This place kinda reminds me of the strongholds in Minecraft… Hey, I’m kinda cold.”

“We’re almost there.”

Anton led Dew’s clone to his car and sat it in the passenger seat, put its seatbelt on, and shut the door. It had stopped talking now, seemingly too tired to ask anymore questions. As Anton drove, he couldn’t help but periodically glance at the dozy, docile thing sitting next to him, looking out the window at the dark forest. It had no idea what was happening. It was almost cute.

“I’m sleepy.” The clone yawned. The repetition of the trees going past the car was almost hypnotic.

“I know. Just relax. It’ll be a long drive.”

“Okay,” It said softly, resting its head against the cold window. “G’night…”

Anton gave a bittersweet smile, and watched its eyes flutter shut as it drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

In around four hours, Anton would be dropping this clone off at its house. He would wipe its memories of the night, and it’d live its life as Dew, its friends none the wiser.

He just had to drive back to Dew’s old house. It was easy.

Anton had tried to ignore the horrible feeling in his gut, his memories of the gory and grotesque scene his lab rat had caused in that room, only a few days ago. He had tried to forget it, tried to focus on the fact that his test subject had escaped, and what had to be done about it. The murder could be easily taken care of; disposed of, cleaned up, and forgotten about. It was in the past. It didn’t matter anymore.

And yet…

Visions of Dew’s bloody and broken corpse flashed through Anton’s mind. The way his favorite little lab rat was lying lifeless on the carpet, blood pooling under the limp and stiff body that was littered with stab wounds, knife only inches away from the scene. The way the light in the poor guy’s eyes was gone. Just like that.

The way Dew was dead.

Dew was dead. Not the real Dew, of course, but that didn’t matter. Anton had seen a Dew’s bloodied corpse laying in front of him, and it sickened him.

He had tried to ignore it. There were more important things to worry about than his feelings— than those horrible feelings of sadness and grief flooding through him at the sight of his test subject, dead on the ground. More important things like the fact Dew had escaped, and needed to be brought back home. The fact he had to punish Dew for disobeying.

But how could he possibly punish someone who was hurting so bad to the point he drank one of Anton’s vials, or shot himself with one of Anton’s inventions? How could he possibly hurt someone worse than they were already hurting? He couldn’t.

Of course, Dew knowing he had been cloned and that there was nothing to do to escape his life as Anton’s test subject was probably punishment enough. It was obvious now he felt completely hopeless; Anton had stolen each and every ounce of hope the man had left by replacing him with a clone and threatening his friends.

So Anton didn’t punish him for escaping. He didn’t punish him for his obvious disobedience and attempts to get out of experiments— too caught up thinking about if Dew had grabbed any other vial, any other invention, it could’ve been so much worse. He didn’t want anything bad to ever happen to him. So he’d been kind, comforting. And it seemed to have worked. Dew was content here, he seemed to finally accept things, which was all he really wanted.

Anton arrived at his test subject’s old address. The clone was still fast asleep, and it took a few light nudges of its shoulders to wake it up. It was alert now, as normal as it could be, acting like the spitting image of Dew. The two of them got out of the car and it questioned him, but Anton was quick to hit it with a quick blast of his memory eraser. He left it by the curb of its house, and drove around the corner out of sight. Memories of that night left its mind, and it stood alone in front of its house. Shrugging its shoulders, it walked inside, out of sight, and Anton began his ride home.

. . .

The scientist had been preparing for an experiment all morning, and Dew had no idea what it was.

Anton had agreed to take a few days off and let Dew rest, giving them both a much needed break and start experiments again once he was ready. Of course, he’d never be ready, but if it was going to happen anyway, it was best to get it over with, and Anton seemed to be itching to start again.

It had to have been almost lunch time by now, and without Sasha to keep him company, Dew spent the morning curled up in his room, drawing and listening to music, blocking out the rest of the world and hoping whatever Anton had planned for him wouldn’t be too agonizing.

Without anything to be hopeful about, that was all he’d been doing lately. That was all he could do, now. Anton didn’t seem keen on letting him outside anymore, and Dew was too petrified to ask.

Dew could’ve spent more time with Anton the past few days. He’d thought about the birthday party he threw him, and their time spent outside together, playing with animals and flying, and when they had watched Dew’s favorite show together upstairs— the last time he had interacted with Anton before he’d ruined everything with his stupid escape.

The truth was, Anton had been fun to be around sometimes, and at this point, Dew wasn’t afraid to admit it. He’d been scared before, when he still held on to the possibility of being free, but now? If he really was stuck here forever, maybe it was in his best interest to use Anton’s friendliness to his advantage. Dew hated the man, but at least he wasn’t cruel. At least he was trying to keep him happy.

If Dew was really going to be a test subject forever, as depressing as that sounded, he should make the most of the rest of his life.

So he sat on his bed, waiting apprehensively for Anton to finish preparing his torment and bring him into the lab. As he doodled in his sketchbook, he heard the scientist’s footsteps coming towards his room. He put his sketchbook down, brought his knees to his chest, and stared at the door.

“Okay Dewey,” Anton walked in, smiling menacingly, yet giddy with excitement. “It’s all prepared. Let’s go.”

Dew slowly stood up, hospital gown already on, and stared incredulously at the scientist as he pulled out a long chain.

“W-what is that?” Dew asked, taking a nervous step back.

Anton sighed. “The past two days you have hurt yourself using the things in my lab. I don’t know if I can fully trust you in there unrestrained anymore. And this experiment has to go perfectly, I don’t want any more delays, okay?”

Of course. Dew had lost all of Anton’s trust, it only made sense for him to be extra restrained in the lab. That didn’t stop his heart from racing, though. “O-okay.”

Anton smiled and clicked the chain around both of Dew’s wrists in front of him, then the two of them headed into the lab. Dew ignored the sinking feeling in his stomach. This was his life now, and he had to be the best test subject he could be so that Anton would be nice to him. He had to be good. He had to.

He hopped up on the operating table, and was told to lay down. Anton placed a pillow behind his back so his wings would be cushioned semi-comfortably. Dew was thankful for that, at least.

As Anton started messing with the restraints on the side of the table, Dew looked up at him with teary eyes. “What are you doing?” he asked meekly.

“You’ll have to be restrained for this one,” Anton explained, tightening the straps around Dew’s legs. “Can’t have you moving around too much. This too tight?”

“N-no.”

Dew weakly protested as Anton tried grabbing his arms. The scientist shot him a look, and he meekly complied, allowing the scientist to spread his arms flat against the table and strap them tightly in the restraints. Dew shuddered as Anton gave the straps an extra tug just to make sure they were secure.

Anton took out his tape recorder and pressed record. “How are you feeling?”

“It’s cold,” Dew whimpered, goosebumps running across his skin.

“Don’t worry.” Anton ruffled his hair. “I’m sure you’ll forget all about the cold after we begin.”

The scientist began rummaging around the tray of tools, and Dew’s nervousness got the better of him. “W-what are you gonna do to me?” he asked.

Anton looked up, a giddy smile creeping across his face. It made Dew’s stomach drop. “Eyes are fascinating, aren’t they?”

“Um, what do you mean?” Dew mumbled.

“Eyes. They’re so fascinating, so complicated and intricate. We rely on our eyes to see the world around us, but… what if there was more? What if there was a way to see beyond the threshold of reality? I want to test something I’ve been working on for a while now, and I think I’ve finally figured out how to do it.”

“You mean— test on my eyes? You’re going to experiment on my eyes?”

“Yes! I won’t tell you the exact details though, I want it to be a surprise.”

As much as Dew wanted to behave as well as possible, he was beginning to panic. “N-no! No, Anton, y-you can’t! They’re my eyes! Please—”

“Remember that one time you asked me to give you night vision?” Anton joked, nonchalantly waving around a long syringe. “Don’t you want this?”

“No!” Dew screamed, but quickly realized that resisting would only make things worse. That’s right, he had to behave. He took a deep breath, trying to calm down, and looked back up at Anton. Maybe they could talk this through? “Wait— wait. Can’t you j-just test this out on a clone instead? What if something goes wrong?”

“I would, but that’s why you’re here, silly.” Anton booped his nose. “And nothing will go wrong. I’ll make sure of it.”

“No— c’mon, Anton! I th— I thought we were friends!”

Anton furrowed his brows, looking at Dew with a sad expression. “I need to do this, Dew. You’re my test subject. This is what you’re here for. …How about, after this, I’ll get you some ice cream? How does that sound?”

“B-but— Ah!” Dew yelped and squeezed his eyes shut when he saw Anton’s hand come towards him, only for him gently taking his glasses off. Still, that was not a good sign.

Dew peaked an eye open to see Anton picking up a giant, blurry needle.

“Wait— wait wait wait wait WAIT!” Dew cried, imagining all sorts of horrible things Anton could do to his eyes, and knowing this would probably be the worst thing he’d have to endure so far. He struggled against the restraints fruitlessly, only tiring himself out. “I— I’ll do anything, anything but this! Please!”

Anton sighed. “C’mon Dewey, be a good test subject.” As Dew continued pleading and blabbering as if his life depended on it, the scientist took out a roll of duct tape.

Dew’s eyes went wide. “Wait! Wait wait wait, please! Please n—”

“Stay still.” Dew’s breath hitched as he was rendered completely motionless. A chill ran down his spine as the scientist put a strip of duct tape over his mouth, smoothing it out with his hand. Dew glared at him, and Anton ruffled his hair, smiling. “There you go.”

He was eerily still as Anton prepped the syringe. Dew whimpered into the gag as Anton brought the needle closer, grabbed his arm, and injected a strange fluid into his veins. Dew only hoped it would ease the horrible pain that was sure to come.

“This’ll just make you feel a little groggy. A small sedative, that’s all it is. But I need you awake for this, can you stay awake for me?”

Dew nodded, already feeling drowsy, as tears fell down his cheeks.

“Good. Let’s get started, then.” Anton said, snapping on black rubber gloves.

The scientist picked up a small glass bottle that was filled with a very bright blue liquid. It was neon teal and glowing bright, with small bubbles swirling around inside it. Anton took an eye dropper and filled it with the substance. Then, Dew hazily heard a command to keep his eyes open, and he realized he was unable to close them no matter how much he wanted to.

The scientist was smiling to himself and saying something into the tape recorder, something Dew was too dazed and terrified to make out.

His chest heaved as he watched Anton’s hand slowly approach his eyes. He quickly turned his head away, only causing the scientist to wrench his head back with a rough hand entangled in his hair. Dew wanted nothing but to squeeze his eyes shut, but he couldn’t.

His eyes burned with tears. Everything felt like a hazy dream, far far away and yet so real. A wave of terror flowed through him. Anton held the eyedropper above one of Dew’s eyes and squeezed it, causing a couple of drops of that glowing blue liquid to fall into his eye. 

No no no NO NO NO! Dew couldn’t move. It felt like his eye was on fire. Something was coating his entire eyeball inside and out and he couldn’t get it off of him.

Anton repeated the process with Dew’s other eye.

Anton looked down at his test subject. “Hey, hey, don’t cry, Dew. Stop crying.” His tears dried up immediately after.

Dew could only watch in horror, his vision blurry and pained, as the scientist picked up another object and brought it towards him.

Dew’s vision was fading, and so was his consciousness. He hoped that only implied he would fall asleep soon. Yes, sleep, that sounded nice. Dew tried to relax as the room went dark, as he let Anton do whatever he wanted to do to him. He felt himself drift off, succumbing to the drugs. He barely heard the scientist’s voice anymore. He was so, so tired.

Right as Dew was about to close his eyes, he felt a sudden sharp sting on the bottom of his face. Anton had ripped the duct tape off.

“Wake up, Dewey.” It was the scientist’s voice, shaking him and his mind awake. That’s right. Dew was supposed to stay awake.

Anton loosened the straps enough for Dew to partially sit up, and held a cold flask of liquid to his lips. “Drink this.”

Dew moved his head away groggily. “W-w-why are you doing this?” Dew sobbed. “M-my eyes! What did you do to—”

“Shhh,” Anton said. “You’ll find out soon. Now drink.”

Dew didn’t have a choice but to gulp down whatever strange substance Anton had just given him. It tasted juicy, a strong sour, yet empty and cloudy at the same time. He all so suddenly felt lightheaded and dull, thoughts sizzling out into nothing. His head felt foggy, and he felt far, far away.

Dew didn’t know what happened after that.

. . .

In situations like this, during experiments like these, it was easy for Anton to get carried away, fueled with the excitement of creating something new. It was easy to be blinded by the power he held, and forget all about how his poor test subject felt. Experiments like these were what fueled him, what reminded him of why he still did this in the first place. Testing the limits of the human body, creating things nobody ever thought possible. This was why he loved science.

Not a single ounce of hesitation went through Anton’s mind when he took out a spoon and brought it to his test subject’s face. Right now, Dew was completely out of it. He wouldn’t remember any of this, which was a huge relief. At least he wouldn’t feel what was about to happen.

Anton brought the spoon closer to Dew’s glossy eyes. And…

Whatever was in that glowing blue liquid seemed to have worked, creating a link between the eye and the brain, no optic nerve needed. He was holding his test subject’s left eye in his hands. His eye.

It was easy to assume there was no coming back from this. Dew may as well have just lost an eye. But Anton was sure he’d be able to pop it back in place eventually, that was part of the experiment, after all.

He held the slimey, squishy, disgusting thing in his hands. It stared back at him, brown eye wide and still and petrified. It disgusted him. It made him feel sick to his stomach at the thought of permanently making Dew lose an eye. But the thought of this experiment being a success outweighed any guilt or remorse he felt, replacing it with the exhilarating thrill he’d been searching for. He held the eye between his thumb and forefinger, giving it a slight squeeze, just to see how it felt. If this experiment went right, everything would change.

He talked into the tape recorder as he prepared for the next step. An injection here, a bit of lasering there, he worked quickly and meticulously, lost in his own world. Once he was ready, he popped Dew’s eye back into place, and repeated the steps with the other one. One last injection with another strange substance, and Anton stepped back to take a look at his handy work. If all went well, things would start happening any minute now.

And he was right.

All of a sudden, Dew started writhing against the restraints, screaming at the top of his lungs. The straps keeping him restrained to the table pulled taut, and Anton was glad he decided to make them extra tight this time. Feathers flew everywhere as he flapped his wings in the midst of the struggle. The sound of nails scraping against metal filled Anton’s ears, but that was nothing compared to the screams. Anton hadn’t hurt such visceral, gut-wrenching screams in a long time. It made him feel sick, but he couldn’t stop watching.

All too quickly, something bubbled its way to the surface of Dew’s skin, bursting out of his forehead with a pop. There was minimal blood, to Anton’s surprise and relief, and he was almost sad that it had happened so quickly.

And then, eerie silence. Dew collapsed down against the table, limp and heavy, erratic breathing turning deep and calm.

Anton approached him slowly, heart pounding through his chest. On the center of Dew’s forehead was an eye. Wide and bloodshot, staring directly at him.

. . .

A few hours later, Anton watched his test subject stir awake, unrestrained and laying flat on the table. He was at his side in an instant, ready to provide painkillers or sedatives or even comfort if needed.

“Dew? Are you awake?”

“Y-Yeah,” Dew said, still feeling groggy. He looked around and started to panic. “I… I can’t see anything—”

“There are bandages covering your eyes, it’s okay. You’re okay. Just calm down.’’

“W-what did you do to me?”

“We’ll talk about that later. First, tell me how you feel.”

“I…” The lack of sight caused Dew to panic as he remembered what was happening before he blacked out.

“Dew,” Anton said, putting his hands on Dew’s shoulders. “Calm down. I’m here. Everything is going to be okay.”

“Y-you— my eyes!” Dew cried, twisting out of Anton’s grip. “What did you do to my eyes?!”

Anton swallowed thickly. This was not going well. “I’ll tell you later. Are you in any pain?”

“I-I… kinda? Everything’s still- still weird. Like, numb, almost. What did y-you do to me?”

“Hm, okay. That’s to be expected.”

Dew flinched in surprise as he felt the scientist grab his arm. “H-hey, what—”

“I’m just giving you something to help you relax. Stay still.”

Not being able to see only caused Dew to focus harder on the injection, unable to drown it out. Dew tensed as he felt a needle enter his skin, and choked back a sob when he felt the sting of the contents entering his body. But, like always, it was over as soon as it began.

“There, that wasn’t so bad,” Anton said. “I should check on your eyes. Try to relax, okay?”

Dew nodded, and Anton peeled the bandage off slowly. He sucked in a breath the second light hit eyes, and he batted the scientist’s hand away.

“Too bright!”

Anton winced. “Sorry.”

“Wait—” Dew lifted his hands up to his eyes and peeled the bandage off. He slowly peaked out, and breathed a sigh of relief when he realized he could still see. Thank fuck. Anton dimmed the lights, but everything still hurt to look at, so Dew covered his eyes again. “I-I can see fine, but- but it hurts.”

“We might need to keep those bandages on for a few weeks, while they heal, and just while your brain and body gets used to… a new eye. “You can handle that, right?”

Dew’s heart skipped a beat. “A— a what?” He squeaked.

“Another eye, Dewey.” He heard it in his voice that Anton was smiling wide. It made him shudder. “I made you grow another eye. On your forehead.”

“What?”

“That’s not the only thing, don’t worry. There’ll be more changes in the coming weeks, which is why the bandages have to stay on. It’s gonna be great.” Dew flinched as he felt the scientist’s hand gently ruffle his hair.

“O-okay.” Dew nodded, numb to it all. A new eye. He didn’t want to think about it. He was just thankful his vision wasn’t gone completely, a few weeks of darkness wouldn’t be too bad.

“Oh yeah!” Anton exclaimed, putting a cold bowl of something in Dew’s hands. “Ice cream, like I promised.”

“Th-thanks,” Dew said. It was vanilla, not his favorite, but he realized he didn't remember the last time he’d eaten ice cream, so he’d take what he could get.

Once Dew was done eating, Anton gently lifted him up and started walking to his room. He wrapped his arms tightly around Anton’s shoulders as a way to balance himself, disorientated from not being able to see and afraid of being dropped. He felt the scientist gently petting his back, probably trying to be comforting. Dew was carried up the stairs, through the door, and gently set into bed. He put his knees to his chest and reached a hand up to itch at his bandages, but Anton quickly stopped him.

“Don’t touch your bandages.” Anton reminded him, holding his wrist away from his face.

“They’re really itchy,” Dew said. “Do I really have to keep them on?”

“Yes. Your eyes need to heal.” Anton sighed. “I don’t wanna do this but… I don’t know if I can fully trust you either.”

“Do what?”

Dew flinched as he felt something rough and scratchy brush against his wrist that the scientist was holding, wrapping around it tightly. “Hey! What are—” He weakly pulled away, but Anton was stronger.

“Calm down. It’s just so you don’t mess with your eyes while you sleep. I can’t risk this going wrong.”

Dew looked down and allowed Anton to tie both of his wrists together behind his back. “There. That’s not so bad.”

“Easy for you to say…” Dew grumbled, flopping into bed. He curled into a ball, and the scientist tucked him under the covers. He thought he must look so defenseless like this, eyes covered, body restrained, completely unable to see anything coming. He hated being this vulnerable.

Anton petted his head softly, and smiled when Dew leaned into it. Dew wasn’t his clone, but he was still as cute as ever.

“Goodnight, Dewey.”

Dew heard the scientist leave the room and close the door. The click of the lock echoing through his ears. He heard footsteps get farther and farther away from his room, and assumed Anton had already turned the lights off and left the lab. He was alone.

Dew laid there on his bed, unable to move his arms that were restrained behind his back. He was still groggy from the drugs, dozing in and out of consciousness while he tried to focus on anything else but the incessant itching of the bandages and pain in his eyes. But it was dead silent in his room and he wasn’t even able to turn his music on. Unable to see, move, or hear anything, Dew was left to wallow in his own mind until he drifted off into a deep sleep.

. . .

Now that it was late at night, and Anton was by himself, the events of the day had caught up to him. It must’ve been so scary for his test subject, painful as well. Anton had to admit he was a bit blinded by the thrill of the experiment for a moment, and didn’t stop to think about how Dew was feeling. He could tell how much he was hurting, such a distressing and risky experiment would do that, he should’ve been more careful.

Anton felt disgusted with himself. But it’d be okay. Dew would forgive him eventually, and they’d move on, like they always did.

“Hey Anton, are you okay?” Sasha asked. They seemed to always see right through him.

“Yea—” No, he had waited long enough, it was time to tell his friend the truth. “No, I mean… Dew’s back.”

“...What?”

Anton fidgeted with the hem of his sweater. “I brought him back. Your guys' escape plan failed. I’m sorry.”

“Oh…”

“Don’t feel bad. It was inevitable. And there was no way he could live a normal life out there with his wings. I’m just… trying to protect him.”

They were quiet for a moment, then, “Can I see him?”

“He’s asleep right now and… I think it’d be best to leave him alone for now. After the experiment today… he needs time to heal from it. I can’t have anything interfering with the results. Though… maybe after a week or two, some enrichment would be good for him. I know you two are friends, it’s not right to keep you apart.”

“Will he be okay?”

“Yes. Yes, I think so.”

“Well, that’s good. Tell him I said hi?”

Anton smiled. “I will.”

“G’night, Anton.”

“Goodnight.”

— 

eyes are so strange and wacky am i right

taglist:

@whumpinthepot @shywhumpauthor @whump-me-all-night-long @whump321 @fuckcapitalismasshole

@sorry-i-spaced @theelvishcowgirl @catnykit @tettlod @delicateprincepaper

@rejectedbytheempty @mijajaj @anothertawogsideblog @creppersfunpalooza @toyybox

@parasitebunny @bottlecapreader @thecareandkeepingofwhumpees @inkwell-and-dagger @vidawhump

@thepotatoofnopes @labwhump @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @whumping-valentine @whumpsoda

@silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @lumpofsand @cepheusgalaxy

let me know if you want to be removed or added to the taglist!

[creativity-deficient]

Random Tweek Tweak hcs bc im thinking bout him yet again :)))

-Has an undiagnosed anxiety disorder, made worse by the increased use of Methamphetamine over the years and mistaken for adhd (canon/implied canon), which I do like to think DOES have as well. He is also on the autism spectrum.

-Has mild Seborrheic dermatitis, a skin condition that causes red and flaky patches of skin and usually flares up due to stress. It starts mainly on his head/under his hair as a kid but worsens in his teens years. Also has dermatillomania (a skin picking disorder), as well. Both of these become a lot worse in his teen years, with the addition of meth induced skin sores and hormonal acne to boot, but do become a lot more manageable for him as an adult. Still however, he does have some faint scars from all the picking and scratching over the years.

-Small tubby lil guy :) (sorta?? implied canon??), below average in height and considerably pudgy compared to most of his peers (genetics/stress eating). Loses a lot of this weight in his teen years due to health issues, but does gain a lot of it back as an adult. Also has a pudgy baby face that he never quite grows out of, even as an adult.

-His eyes a blue hazel, a rare eye color

-Sometimes snaps and hums to calm himself down.

-Enjoys baking as a casual hobby, though he’s still an amateur and doesn’t know how to make much. (implied canon)

-Once joined every school club because he had an anxiety attack and couldn’t decide what to pick

-Habitual nail chewer, again something he usually does due to stress. Nails are very short and stubby because of this

-Bandages on his fingers due to burns, skin picking, and nail biting

-Chronic ice-chewer

-Never learns to tie his shoes. Kept tripping over his laces before finally taking them out. Untied laces to laceless shoes to crocs to socks with sandals to velcro shoes pipeline

-Also never learns to drive, too much stress. Forever in his passenger princess era ✨

-Lowkey a backseat driver, though not in a “know it all” type of way. He mostly just freaks out the entire time.

-Can not sleep in the car because he’s afraid the second he closes his eyes, they’ll crash.

-Doesn’t know much slang/internet lingo and has absolutely no idea what his peers are talking about half the time (pretends he does and usually just ends up looking stupid 😔)

-Has a fear of rubberhose cartoons, as well as those weird old stop motion Christmas movies (he just finds them unsettling)

-Told about the secret family recipe as a teenager by his father, and is reasonably freaked out about it. Is forced to keep his mouth shut about it and suffers through major withdrawals before his parents are eventually exposed and arrested for the distribution of meth/counts of child abuse. Spends most of his high school years in therapy and rehab, though it’s all made easier with Craig by his side

-He and Craig try breaking up their freshman year of high school, both of them feeling like they need to try new things for a bit. It lasts about a week before they get back together.

-TERRIFIED of scissors and refuses to let anyone come near him with them. Grows his hair out long as a teenager before finally caving in and shaving it off as a young adult. He now keeps it managed, but Craig is the only person he trusts to do so.

-Did once try to cut his own hair in middle school though, and he spent weeks looking like a train-wreck before finally letting his mom fix it.

-His relationship with his mom is considerably better than his relationship with his father, and though he never quite forgives her for what she’s done, the two of them are able to reach some sort of closure with each other in Tweek’s older age

[worriedvision]

If you're still taking requests can I ask for one?

Al-haitham or Diluc snaping on the reader, someone has been sabotaging their investigations + missions and putting the blame on the reader without them noticing. Eventually all comes crashing down and finally they take it out on the reader who was innocent all this time.

When the truth comes out and the one who sabotage their work is arrested, the damage was already done. They just broke the reader with those awful words.

Gender neutral reader, angst with no comfort at the end. Doing this with Alhaitham bc I want to hurt him even more lol.

--

Alhaitham realised that, at the start of his plan, someone seemed to take the pieces of evidence he needed to fully convict one of the Sages kept disappearing. No matter how he hid them, it kept being taken away. At first he couldn't figure out who could have possibly had the time to do this, nor the motive, until he started to think of something he didn't wish to.

Your father was the Sage in question.

You were close enough to Alhaitham to know about his routine, any changes, and you had the opportunity to tweak things to work your way so you could stop your boyfriend from convicting your father of his wrongdoings. He didn't want to think of the possibility of you being responsible for this, but there were no other leads as to who could be doing this.

When he confronts you with his evidence that you were taking any leads he found, you were rather offended.

"I wouldn't do that!" You retort, taken aback by the accusation.

"Just give me the evidence you've taken, and I won't take action against you." Alhaitham sighs out, you looking at him with concern. "If you insist on covering for your father, I'm sorry to say you'll be prosecuted."

"With what proof?" You groan out, Alhaitham staring through you. "You don't have any proof that I've had anything to do with this. I wouldn't dare cover for my father, and if he did turn out to be a bad guy I wouldn't try and hide evidence."

"Cyno, you may carry out your work." Alhaitham states coldly, walking past you as the General Mahamatra walks in, apprehending you and taking you to a holding cell.

--

Turns out, Alhaitham's hypothesis was incorrect.

A month had passed, and Alhaitham had forgotten about you. He figured you must have done it, the evidence magically not leaving the spots they were held in. This relief, unfortunately, was short lived.

The evidence, suddenly, all left. Not a single scrap was left. You were still in your holding cell, getting used to the solitude as you waited for your sentencing. Cyno didn't take any sides, the lack of evidence proving neither side to be the correct one.

You get informed that this will be put onto your criminal record permanently, Alhaitham's ordeers, and you knew this would be the end of your career. Of course, your father never came to your cell, and you slowly started to realise that Alhaitham must have had a hunch about your father being a bad apple in the Akedemiya.

Alhaitham managed to discover who had taken the evidence - a group of eremites recruited by your father to take away any evidence that he was a bad man, for a hefty sum of money. After the arrest, he only remembered you when he escorted the eremites responsible for the crime to their holding cells, Cyno opening the cell doors to lock them up before swiftly releasing you for the crime you were wrongly accused of.

You didn't even want to turn to look at your ex. While you never really broke up with words, his actions led to the end of this relationship of yours. He had ruined your professional life by being so adamant it was you who had taken that evidence, and you knew him well enough that he would look at you as if it was your fault.

Alhaitham knew he couldn't fix what he had caused, watching you leave without looking back once. While he wanted to call out to you, to tell you he realised he was wrong and he would be happy to support you by letting you life rent free in his house, he knew you couldn't keep living in Sumeru with people thinking you attempted to cover for your father. You had to deal with the fact your father was not a good Sage, and he had abused his positions. You and Alhaitham both knew you would be lucky if you found work anywhere with that on your record, and Alhaitham only had himself to blame for jumping to his first conclusion with no proof backing him up.

[flightfoot]

Fics with major Alya focus that Alya fans should read

So it's hard to find fics where Alya's a central character, where she has a character arc, focus, development of her own to a significant degree, so I figured I'd rec some fics that Alya fans might appreciate! She's not necessarily the main character in all of them, but if she isn't the MAIN main character, then she's still a major character (and almost certainly POV character) in her own right in the fic. I'm only reccing completed fics for this, btw. If anyone knows the tumblr name for any of the authors involved, let me know!

Also I have a blog dedicated to Alya at alyappreciation, so check that out if you're interested!

---

In Direct Opposition by @generalluxun

Alya Cesaire is a brand new student to Francis Dupont, to Paris even. The first student she meets is one Chloé Bourgeois, and Alya is determined to make a friend. Things advance Chaotically. Her new 'friend' is definitely a handful, and suddenly Paris has a supervillain and two brand new superheroes! Alya finds herself balancing a lot of things, trying to live up to her ideals and those of her icons. And then reality seems to contradict itself. As time progresses it seems to happen more often. Becoming a hero, battling villains, staying alive, working through friendships. Something is lurking, tweaking events at times, changing them, and no one seems aware. Alya will need all her wits to get to the bottom of this. Her investigative mind can only get her so far though, and then she needs to rely on her friends. This is not a foe you can beat head on.

---

Alya's Guide To Surviving A Magical Terrorist Which You Can't Remember by PumpkinPatchworkQuilt

In a world where the fight against Hawkmoth is kept secret from the public, one Alya Césaire sets out to bring the whole thing to light, (and possibly win a journalism award while she's at it)

---

Hold Me By Both Hands by @angelofthequeers

“I know he said never to take you back,” Plagg mutters. “But he’d change his tune if he knew.” He looks Adrien straight in the eye and, more serious than Adrien’s ever seen him before, says, “There’s someone you gotta meet. He’s been looking for that book for ages.” How differently might the events of season 2 have gone if Adrien had also known of Master Fu from the start?

---

Vantage Point by @ashes555

Most of the time, with more information, life get easier and things make more sense. But Alya discovers that sometimes, knowing everything is just plain complicated.

---

Trust by bi_skyes

They thought that because they believed Lila’s lies, they would not be trustworthy to Ladybug anymore. They thought wrong.

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Closure by bi_skyes

After the events of “Trust”, Alya tries to find closure.

---

Lean In by Rachelea3

Marinette spills her secret, and Alya does the only thing she can do.

---

Alya Cesaire Should Be Allowed To Swear by @stripesandblossoms

Akuma attacks don't stop just because Alya is no longer a Hero, but that's fine, because she can still help clear civilians from the danger zone. Even celebrity-friends like Adrien Agreste.

---

Justifying the Means by @ashes555

When the worst happens, Alya finds that she may be willing to do the unthinkable. Is any sacrifice to big to make for her friends?

---

Accidents Are Also Miracles by @liiinerle

After some turbulent days that end with five people knowing her secret identity as Ladybug, Marinette loses faith in her ability to keep herself hidden. Wracked with doubts and insecurities, she pleads with Alya to take over as Scarabella, and tries to disconnect from heroing altogether. Along the way, she starts to date Kagami. Hard as she tries, though, she can't stop worrying - especially not once Monarch takes a particular, and personal, interest in her. At the same time, Alya tries to adjust to her new role while she works to uncover who Monarch really is, and makes some realisations about her own wishes. Kagami struggles against a controlling and abusive parent, and a girlfriend who seems bent on destroying herself - with or without Monarch's involvement. And in the meantime, Alix keeps popping her head back in with offers to help (because cool though time travel is, she misses hanging out in her own time). [Contains some spoilers for early s5 episodes, but otherwise diverges significantly from the plot of the season.]

---

Alya's Amended Guide For Internet Safety (The RPF Remix) by @redrikki

Alya hadn’t meant to fall down the Ladynoir fic rabbit hole. It just happened. She didn't mean to make Ladybug to read fic about herself either. That just kind of happened too.

---

You Are Just A Grin by Midnightdemonht

Oblivio was the only one to need a second separation, even after the butterfly was torn away.

---

the best laid plans (of bugs and bakers) by @mexicancat-girl

Paris is buzzing with the appearance of a new ladybug-themed hero, Scarabella. Alya decides to use her second hero identity to help her best friend Marinette. A bit of her flirting with Marinette is bound to make Marinette's crushes jealous and finally ask her out! Her plan is fool-proof…! Except when it's not. Not enough people are talking about Scarabella flirting with Marinette. How can Alya properly help her best friend if the news can't be bothered to cover Marinette's budding romance with Scarabella and only posts things about Marinette with Chat Noir?! So Alya puts her all into her plan, upping up her flirting each time she appears as the newbie hero Scarabella. This totally does not backfire in any way.

---

Radio Silence by @into-september

When an inexplicable change between Marinette and Adrien brings the two closer than ever, Alya is left on the outside of a secret too confounding to be about cheesemaking or puppy love. [No S4 AU]

---

Creative Lies and Destructive Truths by @azuriteartist

Alya and Lila are two sides of a never-ending fight. The fight between truth and lies, between honesty and deception, between justice and personal gain. And now they have the powers to elevate that fight to a city-wide level. Can Alya stop the deception before it destroys the city? And can Lila stop the truth before it destroys her?

---

The Investigation by @11jj11

Adrien and Marinette are finally dating-- which is what Alya has always wanted... but yet this sudden transformation in their relationship overnight? Things aren't adding up. They are suddenly so much closer than they ever have been before, Adrien is apparently a flirt, Marinette is no longer a stuttering mess, and not to mention the nicknames that came out of no where. Alya is happy for her friends, but she knows there's something more going on, and the reporter in her is going to get to the bottom of it.

---

Cat Naps by BookGirlFan

Chat Noir doesn't care if he dies temporarily. Alya's starting to think he doesn't care if he dies permanently. Marinette's way too stressed for this, so it's up to Alya to find out why Chat Noir's willing to let his cat naps turn into the long sleep.

---

Where were you the first time you were possessed? by @zanzquest

It should be an easy assignment: write about the first time a ghost took over your body to make varying degrees of mischief. There’s just one issue: Alya hasn’t been possessed yet.

---

Is it chill that you're in my head? by @bringthestorm

Alya stared at the picture plastered across the homepage of every single tabloid and news site, whispering every curse she could think of under her breath. SHOCKING SECRET ROMANCE BETWEEN LADYBLOGGER AND PARISIAN SUPERVILLAIN REVEALED!!! the headline announced, casually shouting the words she had been dreading for all of Paris to read. --- Alya had always assumed that someday Paris would discover that she had secretly been kissing their most wanted vigilante, but she had never thought it would happen so soon. As the domino effects of her relationship with Ladybug go spiraling through her life, Alya turns her sights towards the one responsible: the elusive superhero Hawkmoth. AKA Someone outs Alya and her girlfriend so she retaliates by deciding to take down Hawkmoth 

---

Lady and the Fox by @ck2k18

Marinette and Alya, known to their subscribers as “Ladybug” and “Rena Rouge,” have a popular cooking vlog using their parents’ kitchens. While moderating comments, Alya realizes that their viewers assume the two anonymous hosts are a couple, and it causes her to look at her relationship with Marinette in a new light.

(punch punch) fall in love by @mexicancat-girl

One day, Sabrina walks up to Alya. Alone. No Chloe in sight. Sabrina wants to learn self defense. Alya agrees to teach her. Alya ends up getting way more invested than she originally thought she'd be, because Sabrina is a quick learner and sometimes her smile makes Alya's insides go weak.

---

When I Grow Up by waltzofthewifi

-I want to be a superhero." The class stifled laughs. "But superheroes aren't real!" Someone called out. A look through Alya's life. One-shot.

---

disconnected by just_an_ordinary_fan

Lady Wifi believes she might be the only one who does not want to obey Hawkmoth's orders. When she sees another akuma hesitate in the battle, she finds she might not be entirely alone.

Walking that Mile by @nomolosk

Nino and Alya wake up in the wrong bodies. Several things result from this, including, but not limited to, identity reveals and a better understanding of what their respective best friends are going through.

---

(may we write it all down) in cursive light by @sunfoxfic

Since retiring as a journalist, Alya hasn't been involved in an interview in several years. But now that her identity is out, that's about to change.

---

Strangely Familiar by @sunfoxfic

Alya Césaire’s life is perfect. Indeed, between the success of the Ladyblog, how well she’s doing in school, and the fact that she’s a superhero who has never bore the weight of a crisis of epic proportions, her life almost couldn’t be better. Almost. But Alya has always been a go-getter, and so she’ll chase after that perfect life if it kills her. Which is how she ends up rushing to move out of her father’s apartment and in with Marinette, Adrien, and a complete stranger: Nino Lahiffe. And in fact, her life does seem perfect — she and Nino are fast friends. They spend a lot of time together and get to know each other really well. But in the end, fortunate situations will bear unfortunate truths, and she learns things about herself that aren’t quite comfortable. Like I said, though: Alya has always been a go-getter, and she won’t let new feelings deter her from chasing after her perfect life.

---

Trust your instincts by @ultrakart

Alya has the instincts of a fox. Nino finds it hilarious.

---

Foxy Lady by WizardlyMagik

In which Nino finds himself unexpectedly attracted to Rena Rouge, tries and fails to tell his friends and get some advice, and desperately attempts to hide it from his girlfriend. (Who in fact, is planning to use it to her advantage)

---

No One Can See Us Here, Alone; or, The Behaviors of Binary Stars by artEngine

"Yeah, about that," Nino turns to fall in step with her out the door, "Hows about we take a small break from the quests? Chillax, enjoy our money and things?" "You say that now," Alya eyes him from the corner of her vision, "but would you still say that if I told you this special quest was to find a hidden genie for three free wishes?" "Dude. Yes." "Fine. Look, I promise to chill if we go on this quest. Okay?" Nino narrows his eyes down at her pleading expression. This dialogue is suspiciously familiar. Somehow, he gets the feeling that this time will be different. And for some reason, he listens to that feeling. "You're lucky I like you," he concedes. Alya hip-checks him with a winning smile. "That I am." : : A series of Alya and Nino's exploits as a part of the 10,000 gamers who found themselves trapped in Akihiko Kayaba's VRMMORPG game, Sword Art Online. For AU April with the Miraculous Fanworks Discord. (Knowledge of and/or interest in SAO or ALO is not required to enjoy this fic)

---

well somewhere along the way in our words i must've gotten lost by @noirshitsuji

Beelya where Queen Bee visits the Césaire house after Alya writes an article about her fighting Mr. Pigeon alone. Normally Chloé would like the publicity but Alya had titled it ‘The Birds and the Bees’. After that she ends up coming back to complain about her mother. And her father. And about the fact that her oldest friend seems uncomfortable around her. Her visits becomes weekly, then almost nightly. (Don’t forget to include Chloé redemption (and some “Bee Movie” jokes).) * Alya isn’t quite sure how she ended up here, in a place where she isn’t even surprised Chloé would seek her out to talk about her dad, where she wouldn’t even mind her doing so, where she would expect it, where she would– (–thud. She might be in trouble.)

---

Me, My Best Friend, and Her Cat by @ladyofthenoodle

Ladybugs aren't known for being particularly sneaky. Good thing this Ladybug has a fox in her corner, watching her back. (And giving Ladybug's love life a nudge along the way. Maybe more than a nudge. In Alya's defense, Ladybug can use all the help she could get.)

---

Best Laid Plans by @captorations

Alya Césaire had always known she was going to be a superhero one day. She even had a rather unique plan to protect her secret identity, and it worked like a charm. But tricksters have to be careful, lest they end up tricking themselves.

---

Outfoxed by @captorations

Lila Rossi is not a Miraculous wielder. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t have power. Alya was under her spell, along with so many others, until the day Lila unknowingly overstepped herself. Freed at last, the true Fox recognizes magic when she sees it, even if it doesn’t come from a source she understands. She is none too happy about this pretender abusing her natural gifts to make fools of Alya and those she loves. Alya Césaire might need an enchanted necklace and the aid of a tiny deity to cast illusions, but she swore to use her borrowed abilities for the greater good long ago. There is none better suited to facilitate the liar’s downfall. And maybe she’ll help her best friend sort out her increasingly complex love life along the way.

[peanut-with-wifi-access]

FNAF SECURITY BREACH RUIN DLC SPOILERS

My theory for how the Daycare Attendant works

—·–-–·—

Eclipse was the original Theater Animatronic for the Superstar Theater. Capable of switching between three different personas/appearances with different AIs, so three AIs in one animatronic, what could go wrong? Anyway, the personas are as follows.

Eclipse, caring and kind, strict on certain rules but not overly stingy. Generally a pretty positive presence, likes making sure kids are both safe and having fun.

Sun, the ADHD embodiment of energy and happiness who cares more about having fun than following the rules and staying safe.

Moon, the mildly mischievous yet quiet embodiment of following the rules and keeping safe at all costs. Cares far more about following the guidelines than having fun or being risky.

The main gimmick of the Theatre shows was that Sun and Moon would get into an argument about something due to their contrasting personalities, and then Eclipse would come in at the end and give a solution that makes them both happy.

Eventually, Fazbear Entertainment started work on a Daycare area. To cut costs, they attached it to the Theatre, called it Superstar Daycare, and made Eclipse, Sun, and Moon work as The Daycare Attendants.

This... Didn't work very well. Eclipse tried his best to do both the plays and the Daycare, but Sun and Moon kept popping out at the wrong times, scaring the kids in the daycare or messing up shows cause they kept getting confused.

Fazbear Entertainment eventually (after a bunch of complaints from angry parents and Eclipse themselves) just let a staff bot run the Theatre and put Eclipse in the Daycare permanently. However, they were still stressed out often. Sun and Moon were struggling to adjust to their new roles, and Eclipse had trouble playing the mediator while also trying to watch a hundred kids.

Due to all this stress, They were the first to get infected by the virus. Glitchtrap took one look at Eclipse and decided to lock him away, while tweaking bits of Sun and Moon to make them more useful.

Sun became overly anxious and stressed out constantly, desperately wanting to make sure everyone was having fun, whilst also trying to keep them safe. His demeanor became frantic and panicked, easily lashing out when things went wrong and constantly yelling.

Moon, meanwhile, lost all care for safety, and instead believed that once the lights went out, the children 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 be asleep, or they're naughty and need to be punished. He doesn't know how fragil humans are, but as long as the kid is laying down and isn't moving, that means they're asleep, and Moon can go get the other kids to sleep too.

Without Eclipse as a mediator, these two quickly grew to despise eachother, believing that the other must be kept away at all costs.

Thanks to Cassie though, the virus is gone, and Eclipse is back, and now they just need to clean up this mess.

"Goddamn, what happened while I was gone?!"

"Uhhh, sorry..?"

"I don't think a "sorry" is gonna make him less mad at us."

"You are correct."

[worldseer]

Indulgence of Sweetness (Kar'niss x AFAB!Tav)

Warnings/Content: AFAB! Tav, Spoilers for BG3, NSFW, monster fucking, oral (female receiving), breeding kink, detailed description of genitalia, detailed kissing, Kar'niss is a giant spider person, OOC(?)

Word Count: 3k

Masterlist: Coming soon! Author's Note: Caved and decided to put this on here to show that I can in fact make good content. I wrote this for fun mostly on a Discord server. And I spent too much time thinking what it would look like, if you catch my drift. I also tweaked a few things about it so it's easier to read and more cohesive. Enjoy the filth! Tags: (comment to be added to taglist)

~

The darkness of this place was suffocating, dreary, and unkind. From what you heard, just beyond the darkness lied monsters eager to kill, maim and eat. Kar'niss, the strange and broken man he was, was able to be convinced to come with your party with the protection of his lantern. He unnerved you at first, the exoskeleton and long thin legs that carried his drider body. It was uncomfortable to look at them for too long. His speech and personality was also concerning, since he spoke in a broken sort of form and rarely referred to himself. It revealed his mental state, how he was. . . not all there. But he was still definitely there. He was. . . strange. But you had to admit, a part of you was curious about him. You had heard of driders, what they did and how they came to be. A part of you wanted to know more, but you kept your prodding questions to yourself. There's no easy way to suddenly ask all about a creature's culture and anatomy after all. . . especially when they seemed like touchy subjects.

Time still passed in this dark place, and shadows grew darker as a form of night swallowed the lands. With his lantern to protect, Kar'niss thought it best to settle for a makeshift camp. The others didn't seem too enthused, but there was a difference between sleeping on rough dirt and being torn apart by terrible creatures. Besides, who was going to argue with the drider who had lived most of his life in this place and remained unscathed?

Stress left you frustrated, naturally. With how this whole quest was going, it was no wonder that you needed some form of relief. Seeking sleep was of no use, your mind was far too active. Tiring yourself out wasn't useful either, considering that most of your muscles throbbed with pain and soreness. No, nothing was working. You needed something to help calm your mind. . . and your gaze moved down to the sleep trousers you wore. "Fuck. . . maybe just one will help," you mutter to yourself, pulling your pants off and shivering as you were exposed to the chill in the air. You were already getting wet, as if your body agreed that this was the best form of stress relief you could perform at this time. Or maybe your body was trying to give you a sign that you needed to find someone to take care of your needs. Your fingers circled your clit slowly, your breath catching. Gods. . . it had been a while since you last got off. And you were too cowardly to ask anyone in your party for a "favor". . . especially now. They'd all likely complain that in the middle of a dark land was definitely not the time and place to get it on. Your hand would do for now. It worked before. . .

A shuffling outside of your small tent snapped you away from the daze of pleasure, and a familiar hissing voice moved in the air. "A sweet scent. . . a sweet, succulent scent in the air. . . is it a gift, your Majesty? A gift for us?" Kar'niss quietly whispers. A clawed hand touched the tarp of your tent, and you scrambled to pull the blankets of your bedroll over yourself. The same clawed hand moved the tarp, and the hungry expression of Kar'niss came into view. However, his expression dropped as soon as his many eyes trained on you. "Oh. . . True Soul. . . Apologies, to you and her Majesty- I smelled a sweetness. . . Have you smelled it?" he says, his voice quiet and tentative now. You blinked a few times, "Uhm. . . Not that I know of." If he was referring to what you thought he was, then this turned into a much more awkward situation that you first thought.

Kar'niss turned his head, his long spider legs moving him forward as he sniffed the air. A shaky sigh left him as he closed his eyes, his form trembling. "The scent. . . it lingers most here. . . fills the air. . . so so sweet, just like her Majesty. . . oh so sweet. . ." he whispers, almost looking to be drooling now. His pedipalps twitched with what looked to be excitement. Kar'niss seems to disregard the invasion of privacy, seeking with his nose the source of the "sweet scent" he speaks of. His legs lower himself, moving closer to the ground. . . and closer to you. He inhales deeply, his face close to the blanket that was covering your indecency. His eyes finally open, and they move to be trained on your face. "It comes from you. . . True Soul. . . The scent. . . oh please, show me what smells so delicious, so sweet and pure~. . ." he purrs, almost begging with a pleading expression. It's. . . oddly cute, and alluring. You figure it's time to let the cat out of the bag, so to speak. Perhaps this was best to never tell anyone. . . take it to the grave, so to speak.

With a shy tone, you say, "I was. . . tending to some self relief and. . ." You move the blanket, exposing your still wet pussy. Kar'niss looks absolutely stunned, eyes now zeroed in on the slick folds and your clit peeking out. A growling sort of exhale leaves him. ". . . True Soul . . . you. . . smell. . . so. . ." he says, lips twitching and hands reaching out for you. However he stops himself. "What am I. . . what is. . . what is happening to me? I feel. . . hungry. . . but. . . not for food or blood. . ." he asks himself. Rarely he had ever referred to himself til now. It was as if his mind was clearing, or perhaps some long lost instinct brought back some sanity. How funny, that exposure to a wet cunt could bring back sanity to a man. "Forgive me- I shouldn't be here. . . you seek rest, True Soul. . ." But before he leaves, you find yourself grasping his arm, an arm that is defended and tough with a grey exoskeleton. He pauses, looking at you with surprise. ". . . You can stay, Kar'niss. . ." you whisper, and you see Kar'niss' eyes move over you. He swallows, and finally rests his spider body on the ground of the small tent. He takes up half of the space, but you don't seem to mind his proximity. Kar'niss looks at you with cautious eyes, silently asking permission and confirmation. It was almost cute, and you just nodded to reassure him again.

Maybe it was lust, a need for touch and attention. Or maybe you were curious of the drow drider. What ever the reason, you wanted him here and wanted see what he would do. Kar'niss let out a sigh as his eyes move to look at your pussy again. "It has been. . . long since. . . I've seen. . . such a quim like yours. . ." he admits, his hands reaching for you again. Warm, tough exoskeleton presses against your calves as Kar'niss gently grasps you, as though he was hesitant to touch, like he could corrupt and taint you. He continues, "So long since I . . . felt the wetness. . . the warmth. . ." He leans closer, clawed hands almost pulling you towards him and his eyes moving to look at your face. The many eyes of Kar'niss are dark, but you can see his irises are a rich brown in color. He stares for a moment, then his gaze moves down to your lips. His lips part, scarred and dry, "So long since I have. . . tasted another. . . Can I. . . May I taste you, True Soul?" His breath is warm against your skin, a stark contrast to the chill outside. His eyes move to yours again, and he looks as though he may beg and plead just to kiss you.

Curiosity mixed with need and loneliness was a cocktail of emotions that you never expected to feel, especially now with Kar'niss. But hey, you live life once, right? You wordlessly nod, and a shuddering breath leaves Kar'niss. "Forgive me-" he whispers, then presses his lips against yours. It's. . . surprisingly nice. His lips were a bit dry, but he was careful. Tentative, even. As though he didn't want to overwhelm you with his neediness. His hands moved to your shoulders now, pedipalps grazing the skin of your legs. After a moment, he pulled away but not far. His nose bumped against yours as he whispered again, "More. . . please let me have more. . ." A slick, blackened tongue moves from the inside of his mouth, wetting his lips. In a moment of boldness, you flick your tongue against his. Kar'niss growls lowly, but you know it's not to threaten. It's want. He takes it as an invitation (which it was), and pushed his tongue past your lips. He tastes bittersweet, like the darkest sort of chocolate or cranberries. A lingering taste of iron could be tasted as well. What surprised you most was that his tongue was dexterous. . . and long. It swirls around your own, making your mouth feel full as he seems to try all he can to navigate your mouth and taste every flavor it had to offer. The mingling taste of your spit and his was dizzying. He barely let your tongue move into his mouth, likely to make sure he didn't accidentally bite or cut you with his sharp teeth. When he finally moves away, a "Hah~. . . " sort of sound left him as he exhaled. His tongue was still slick with saliva, and hung low slightly past his chin. Something that could only be described as lust filled his many eyes. His tongue moved again, licking a stripe up your throat. "More. . . I want more. . ." he purrs, and trails down your body. Wet saliva created a sheen on your body as he tongue moved over your warm skin.

You didn't stop him, especially when he hoisted your thighs over his shoulders, and pressed his face into your folds. He inhales deeply and groans loudly. He stays there a moment, inhaling your scent over and over as if he can't get enough of it. "Oh yes. . . So perfect and sweet. . . I need this pussy-" he growls, and you nearly scream from the feeling of his warm, wet tongue pushing right into you. He laps and devours, claws careful not to break the skin as he holds you still. His tongue explores and fills your greedy and wanting warmth, soft and whining moans leaving Kar'niss as he tastes you. It's as if you're the best thing he's ever tasted. . . His tongue eventually pulls back so he can lick through your folds. Kar'niss pauses, clawed thumb pulling the hood of your puffy clit back and grinning. "Ah. . . So pretty. . . wonder what this will make you do if I just. . ." he whispers, and begins to suckle on your clit. His eyes close and he moans with you, cycling between licking and sucking on the tender bud. The sounds of slurping and moaning are so lewd and loud that you're surprised that no one has woken up or heard it. But then, he suddenly pulls away when you're about to cum and looks ashamed. You would've complained, had you not noticed his expression first. ". . . Why. . . why do I feel so. . ." he whispers, and then grunts. Kar'niss covers his face with his hands as he pulls back, and you notice a slickness between two plates slightly above where his pedipalps were. A hidden slit, as it were, where a heavy slick bubbled and leaked. Was that. . . precum? Kar'niss suddenly looks embarrassed. "Don't look at me! Don't look at my shame! I didn't mean to-" You move forward, pulling Kar'niss' hands away from his face. "Whoa- hey! It's alright. . . what's going on?" you ask. Kar'niss looks away, one of his hands moving to attempt to hide his face once again, "I'm. . . aroused. . . I want to. . . I want to breed. I need to. . ." "Breed?" "Yes. . . breed. . . My kind gets very. . . excited when we are uhm. . . Sorry, True Soul . . . I do not mean to overwhelm you, especially with. . . carnal desires." "Oh . . Are you holding yourself back?" "Quite literally. . . I. . . know my anatomy. . . intimidates those who are. . . not my kind. . ." " . . . Show me." Kar'niss looks startled, "W-what?" "Show me how aroused you are. . ." With a shaky inhale, there's a squelching noise and you look down. From the hidden slit, what you can only assume is his cock moves out at a sluggish pace and stands proud. It's almost sticky looking, with precum beading and running down the shaft. The head is pointed, and the shaft curves with slight differences in thickness. It's long, just like his tongue. . . and grey in color. It's pretty, in an odd way. For a moment, you wonder how it tastes . . . and if it would all fit. It twitches in the cold air, seeking attention from you. Kar'niss looks away, his hands covering his face in shame. Before he says anything bad about himself again, you grasp his cock. A choked gasp leaves him as you experimentally pump him. Precum dribbles continuously from the tip, coating your hand in mere seconds. It's stickier than whatever is keeping his cock lubricated, like warm caramel. You lift your fingers to your mouth and taste it, and Kar'niss looks like he may implode from the sight in front of him. Sweet. Like pure melted sugar. You look at Kar'niss, deciding it would be too cruel if you didn't allow him to indulge his desires and leave him hard. He doesn't seem like the type to just- go and deal with this himself. . .

"Do you want me?" you ask, and Kar'niss nods silently with a great eagerness. You move closer to Kar'niss, and his arms wrap around you. He's warm to the touch, warmer than you expected. His pedipalps guide your legs to wrap around his "hips" as he "sits" on the ground, his cock touching the inside of your thigh. Another shaking breath leaves Kar'niss, "Let me breed you, True Soul. . . please. . . I can't hold myself back. . . I promise to be gentle, to be good, just please. . ." Oh he was too cute. . . You move so the tip presses against your opening, and Kar'niss lets out a strained noise. It's a slow stretch, but due to the lubrication on his cock, it feels nothing but natural and painless. Smooth, the entire way down. You take him, and his cockhead hits perfectly against your cervix. He moans, "Oh Gods- oh my-" He gasps before speaking again, "MMMMmmmm. . . I need to-" Kar'niss holds you like a vice, and his pedipalps act like another set of arms, guiding your hips as he thrusts at a slow pace. It's like he's afraid to pull out and be too far away from being buried in your warmth, almost grinding instead of actually thrusting back and forth. He huffs and puffs, his face pressed against your neck. "So. . . warm. . . so. . . tight. . . Hah~! Mmm . . . Forgive me, True Soul, forgive my selfishness. . . I don't deserve such a perfect pussy to breed-" he whispers against your skin, his pedipalps guiding your hips faster. Your orgasm washes over you with surprising timing, but he doesn't stop. Instead, he growls lowly as you clamp down on him. "More- more- gotta prepare-" he mumbles, his sharp teeth brushing over your neck. His grip tightens as he thrusts faster, gritting his teeth now. You're surprised he's going so fast and not yet cum, especially since he seemed to have been going through a very long dry spell.. He whines, growls, gasps, every kind of erotic noise tumbling out his throat. It's primal, instinctual, and natural for him.

His sounds mix with yours, and he shakes as he continues to fuck you hard. A second orgasm comes and goes quickly, and you're overstimulated as he brings you a third. It's only then as you clamp and gush on him for a third time that his hips finally stutter. "Have to. . . make sure. . . your quim. . . takes me well. . . must. . . satisfy. . . my love. . ." he groans, then thrusts harder. You're too far gone to understand what exactly he means by that. All you want is him, nothing else mattered. His sharp teeth dig into the soft flesh of your neck, keeping a grip on you. After a moment he pulls away and licks over the mark he made, looking proud of himself. "Yes. . . mate. . . finally. . . mate. . ." he coos, the words quiet as he nears his climax. It's overwhelming, but all the more rewarding when he finally cums. It triggers your fourth orgasm once he cums, and it only seems to intensify his own orgasm. His mouth opens in a silent scream at first, then an almost broken, crying sound leaves him as his cock throbs inside of you. It throbs several times, each time filling you with a rush of hot cum that definitely needed to be spent. A satisfying and comfortable warmth fills you, so much so that you fear it will leak out. It feels thick inside you, slightly heavy; it's oddly satisfying to feel inside you. One of Kar'niss' hands moves behind him as he gently pulls you off of his cock and down on your bedroll once more. A sticky, white and gooey substance covers Kar'niss' hand once it's back in view, and he spreads it over your spent pussy. "Don't worry . . . it's only my webbing," he mutteres, taking note of your confused face. You twitch as Kar'niss pushes the strong webbing slightly into your core, plugging his cum inside of you. He lathers the rest over the opening of your pussy and looks satisfied. "There. . . Now it's sure to take. . ." Take . . . wait a minute! Take?! You didn't even think about that. . . was it possible? You couldn't ask now! You'd have to ask Gale later- Your thoughts were interrupted as Kar'niss tenderly kissed your forehead. "Thank you, my love . . . Rest easy, you're tired. . . I will protect you from harm, as your mate. . ." he whispers, and quietly leaves your tent. You momentarily wonder if now Kar'niss would keep you here forever. You knew what "mate" implied. . . Hopefully you didn't end up breaking his heart by the end of all this. . .

~ Bonus: "So first you lick a spider, and now you fucked one? . . . I'm starting to think you have some spider kink." "I was horny and stressed, Gale! And he was very endearing!" "You slept with a drider. A horny. . . drider. That is something that happened. . . Look, I know we're friends, but know that I am extremely worried about your decision making." ". . . Also I think he made me his mate-" "I- What- TAV!"

[anime-owo-kage-san]

Huskerdust & Crymini Family scenarios I imagined out of boredom:

(Some of these are just dialogues from shows that I tweaked to fit the characters’ personalities)

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

(Angel was worried for Crymini, but he didn’t want to keep hovering over her. So, he decided to just go to a club with her and stay far away, so she doesn’t feel suffocated. But, he ended up approaching her and stepping in anyway when a 10 foot shark creep, kept hitting on her. After punching him unconscious, Crymini, who was actually uncomfortable the whole night, drags Angel outside of the club to talk.)

*Now sitting outside the club*

Crymini: “Look… Angel. Don’t take this the wrong way but… I kinda don’t want you to be my friend…”

Angel: “….”

Angel: “Uh yeah, Mini. How the fuck else am I supposed to take that BUT the wrong way?”

Crymini: “No! I don’t mean it like that! You’re a total badass! I love that about you but….. Back ‘topside’… My dad wasn’t around, but I had my mom with me, who was really young…. She doesn’t really act like a mom. More like, an annoyed older sister forced to babysit, and let’s me do anything as long as I leave her alone.”

Crymini: *hugs her knees* “When I got older, I started going out to late night parties, drinking, skipping school and trashing neighborhoods… Still, she didn’t really care. I don’t even know if she’s aware I’m down here now. So… what I’m trying to say is…”

Angel: “Rather than a ‘friend’, you want someone to give you advice on what could be better for you? And preferably it’s someone who you know, experienced shit worse than you? You need someone who can tell you not to make the same mistakes they did?”

Crymini: *nods her head* “Yeah… Sorry.”

Angel: *holds her shoulder* “Don’t be.”

Angel: “Now… If that’s the case, then listen to me when I tell you this, toots. Please don’t go back in there. I know you can handle yourself, but that don’t mean you have to be in the same place as that fucker. Let’s go back to the hotel?”

Crymini: *smiles, then gets up to pat her clothes down* “Yeah. Let’s go. This club was shit anyway. And the food…. Speaking of, can you cook? Husk’s food has no taste at all, and I don’t want to eat anything from that smiley freak.”

Angel: “Sure thing, sugah. White sauce pasta?”

Crymini: “Sounds good.”

.•.•.

(Crymini invites a guy over at the hotel, finding him cool at first. But, when she leaves the room to get some snacks and comes back the guy turned out to be a creep trying to get in her pants. He starts chasing her around the hotel all the way back downstairs.)

Crymini: “Gross! Get the fuck away from me!”

Guy: *continues to aggressively chase her around*

Husk: *just walked through the door, back from buying fruits for his cocktail drinks, and sees the commotion.*

Husk: *races his way in between them and separates them with his wings*

Husk: “The fuck is going on in here!?”

Guy: *freezes in place* “… Uh—“

Crymini: *points at him while hiding behind the wing* “HE tried to put his lips on my face!”

Husk: *whips his head towards him* “Her face!?”

Guy: “Hang on now—Ow! Ow! Ow!”

Husk: *pins his arm behind his back and leads him out the front door* “Well, Mr. I don’t give a flying fuck who you are, it was nice having you over. But, it’s getting late, so I think you should see yourself out, excuse my foot”—*kicks him in the back, out the door.*

Husk: *slams the door shut and locks it*

Guy: *knocks rapidly* “Hey wait! I think I dropped my phone in there!”

Husk: *looks in the middle of the room and sees a hellphone on the floor*

Husk: “Yeah, just a second.” *walks out the room and comes back in with a meat tenderizer*

Husk: “Here it is. I found it.” *smashes the phone into bits, then picks it up*

Husk: *walks back to the front door and opens it*

Husk: “Oh no, sorry kid. Looks like your phone case wasn’t effective.” *dumps the phone shards into the guy’s hand, and slams it shut again, before he could say anything*

.•.•.

Angel: “You know, Mini…. You’re the only person that ever got me to actually feel my 30’s.”

Husk: “My back magically fixed itself, from the amount of times I had to run or fly over to wherever the shit you got yourself into is.”

Crymini: “You’re welcome then. Thanks to me, you’re either maturing or your bodies are reverting to your youthful years. Aren’t those redeeming qualities?”

Husk: “Well, if you’re interested in having ‘redeeming qualities’, why don’t I tell the princess you’re ready to join in on tomorrow’s activity.”

Angel: “Yeah~! We might become partners for a teamwork thing, Mini!”

Crymini: “What!? Nooo! Come on! Don’t!”

.•.•.

(Crymini, when she was younger and alive, created imaginary pseudo-parents, to help her get by, and pretend everything is okay. Sometimes even in hell, she pretends too, but it’s not frequent anymore. Although, everyone in the hotel knows about it, because of the awkward moments where Crymini wouldn’t let anyone sit on the chair or space next to her because she says her parents are sitting right there.)—(personal headcanon created because of the plush toy boyfriend thing Crymini might have.)

Crymini: “Hey, Charlie… Can I tell you something?”

Charlie: “Of course, Crymini. What’s on your mind?”

Crymini: “I told you about my pseudo-parents, right? And how they listen to me whenever I can’t take it anymore living with my mom… How they make me feel like I’m not alone…”

Charlie: “Yes. I remember.”

Crymini: “I know those two aren’t really my parents, but they’re the best thing that ever came to my life. I don’t want them to disappear because I did something wrong. If I…. go back to being a reckless bitch…”

Charlie: “Oh, Crymini.” *puts a hand on her shoulder for comfort* “That won’t happen. Those two love you, no matter what you do. They won’t just disappear, when you fall back to old habits. They’d stay and help, because they want you to be a better person for yourself.”

Crymini: *feels better, but looks away awkwardly*

Crymini: “…. I was… talking about Angel and Husk.”

Charlie: “So was I.”