#I mean yeah I could’ve dug out my tablet

[nickivi]

Found my Apple Pencil, can finally color again!

[the-odd-job]

Up in Flames chapter 5 - She Wolf (Ashes Part 2)

Warnings: Major Character Death, Chose Not to Use Category: Other Fandom: Transformers Relationships: Megatron/Sunstreaker, Megatron/Sideswipe, Sideswipe & Sunstreaker Characters: Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Megatron Additional Tags: Dubcon, Mechpreg, Sticky Words: 3477

( Previous )

There was a ping at their door, but they barely had the time to glance up before it had already opened. Megatron loomed in the doorway, and he probably wasn’t trying to do that, but with his size and demeanor it was practically unavoidable.

Or maybe he was trying to do it. He was having plenty of success if that was the case.

Not that the twins were cowed. Sideswipe was lying on his front on their berth, playing a game on the datapad in front of him, and he didn’t lose the light caress of a smile he wore almost permanently despite the tyrant’s glowing red optics passing over him. Sunstreaker sat next to his twin, his art tablet in his servos, and his work unfinished.

He narrowed his optics at Megatron for the goddamn interruption. He was in the middle of something for frag’s sake. “Your ship, huh?” he grumbled. March in whenever he felt like, sure, why not! Not like they didn’t have anything better to do than entertain a particular despot.

“Mmm, so you do learn,” Megatron intoned, stepping inside and letting the door close behind him. Sunstreaker would have said it turned the already dimly lit room that much darker, but honestly, with how poorly lit the hallways were too, there wasn’t much of a difference even with the door closed.

It wasn’t like their species strictly needed the light, but sheesh, it would’ve sure improved the mood of the place to not have dark nooks everywhere.

“What do you want?” Sunstreaker asked, saving his painting before subspacing his tablet. Something gave him the feeling it would be in the way, and he’d rather it didn’t get destroyed.

“What did you have there?” Megatron asked, taking the step from the door to the edge of their berth. Sideswipe ever so casually moved to one side of the berth, out of the way. Megatron glanced at him briefly, but his primary focus rested squarely on Sunstreaker. 

Who frowned at him, but he wasn’t the type to be ashamed of the things he did. What reason did he have to be, anyway? “I paint,” he answered simply, because nothing said that should have stayed a secret. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t good at it, too. If someone wanted to see his work… Let them marvel.

“You? That is a surprise,” the tyrant asked, just… Standing there, looking down at him. One of his optical ridges arched, probably in surprise, although Sunstreaker couldn’t tell how feigned or real it was.

He took offense, either way. “Yes, me,” he snarled. “What the slag is that supposed to mean?”

“I merely didn’t take you for the creative type. Consider my assumption corrected.”

Ugh. Whatever. Sunstreaker rolled his optics, but there was a question Megatron had smoothly not answered. “What the slag do you want? If it’s not something worthwhile, get out.”

“I think you can guess,” Megatron rumbled, and now he moved, coming onto the berth and pushing Sunstreaker down onto his back while at it. 

Sideswipe said nothing and did nothing, but Sunstreaker could feel his curl of amusement, and growled at that as well as the treatment Megatron was giving him. “You think you can just walk in when the frag you please, and frag me when the slag you please?” he hissed at the tyrant, bringing his legs between the two of them and kicking with full force.

Megatron probably saw that coming, though, and merely intercepted his pedes before they could make contact with his chassis, and from there it was an easy thing to spread Sunstreaker’s legs and position himself between them.

And then they were there all over again, with Sunstreaker’s thighs spread wide around the tyrant’s hips. He… Couldn’t say he exactly minded the position. His engine revved, but it was just out of anger, not from anything else. Certainly not.

“With how into it you are,” Megatron said, and Sunstreaker bared his denta at him—at the truth in those words, “I think the answer is yes.”

Bastard. Primus damned Pit reject–

Whose servo had come to cup his valve cover. 

That was unfortunate with how much it managed to distract him from his internal chewing of both Megatron and Sideswipe, who had upgraded from just amusement to outright giggling in their spark. And his smile, even on the outside of his frame, had fragging widened pretty noticeably.

Even if he didn’t remove his optics from his datapad.

So. Right. Megatron’s claws were digging into the seams of his lower panel again, a clear threat. What had happened to his cover last time? There was no reason why that couldn’t happen again. 

But as last time, he had no reason to retract the damn cover. No Autobots to hold secrets from, and frag, what was it but a little pain and a trip to Hook? It was the principle of things.

He stared the tyrant in the optic and kept the cover closed. Megatron didn’t look surprised by that, and didn’t waste time trying to coax him into cooperation either. The claws dug in, and the panel was torn away. 

Sunstreaker’s hips jerked at the sting, but he didn’t avert his gaze any more than Megatron did, and he made no sound. What a fragging staring contest it became, with Sideswipe silently chortling to the side and Megatron’s thick, thick digits slipping into his valve with little fanfare.

But it could’ve been his spike too, and without preparation he would have definitely felt that. As ever, though, Megatron was courteous enough to finger fuck him first, and Sunstreaker… Didn’t make particular effort to keep his hips from pressing back into every thrust of the warlord’s servo.

“As I said,” Megatron growled, “Into it.”

“Slag right off you self righteous little prick,” Sunstreaker snarled back, shoving his hips onto the digits penetrating him. Megatron rumbled in amusement, but took that as a sign that he was ready enough, and the digits were replaced by a spike with minimal delay.

And as he already well knew, it was a spike with enough girth to pulverize the unprepared. Sunstreaker wasn’t unprepared, though, and his back merely arched as Megatron pushed into him, taking his fragging time with it until Sunstreaker’s vents were blowing hot air. Impatient, he reached down and caught the tyrant’s hips, but Megatron took no heed of his demand and kept his pace agonizingly slow.

He was going to glitch at this rate. 

“The frag’s gotten into you?” he grumbled, jerking his hips towards Megatron, but to a very limited effect. “‘Face me, you slagging wussie. Or did you forget how, all of a sudden?”

“So demanding,” was the growl he got in return, but finally Megatron shoved all the way inside. From his first set of calipers to the very last, there was the stretch and the fullness caused by a spike that could provide some fantastic results when used correctly—like Optimus had never known how to do.

And apparently Megatron had forgotten how to, too. Sunstreaker’s engine roared in utter frustration when Megatron didn’t get it going right away, just circled his hips in a way that yeah, didn’t feel bad, actually felt pretty nice–

But it wasn’t what he fragging wanted.

“For Primus’ sake, let me show you how it’s done,” he growled, shoving at Megatron’s shoulder, hard, in what he thought was a clear enough indication that he wanted to swap places. Somewhat.

He honestly hadn’t expected it to work. Megatron didn’t exactly seem like the type to take requests in berth—or anywhere else, for that matter—but the tyrant humored him. That was all it was, because his field flared with amusement he made no effort to contain, but whatever. It got Sunstreaker what he wanted, that was good enough.

Namely, Megatron rolled them over without ever removing his spike, until he was on his back and Sunstreaker atop him, straddling his hips.

There. That was better.

“Well?” Megatron spoke up, raising his optical ridges at him—challenge, if he ever saw one. “How is it done?”

Sunstreaker’s engine rumbled in annoyance, but he would fragging well teach the damn mech a lesson. “You don’t deserve this,” he hissed before he pushed himself up on his knees, relishing in the drag of Megatron’s spike across all of his primed sensors—then a drop down, his back arching as the tyrant’s length struck deep, colliding with his ceiling node in a fucking good mix of pleasure and pain.

Rinse and repeat, but faster, and frag, maybe Sunstreaker hadn’t ridden a spike a hell of a lot in his lifetime, but Sideswipe sure had. Sunstreaker recalled those memories now, planting his servos on the warlord’s chestplates and using the damn mech’s damn spike without a trace of care for Megatron himself.

Return the favor, no?

But it didn’t matter. Megatron’s engine was revving with his own arousal, because as much as Sunstreaker did this for himself, as much as every rise and every drop, every twist and jerk of his hips was for him… It wasn’t as if it wasn’t going to feel good to the owner of the spike as well. 

A bit of a downside, but he could live with that if he got his overload out of this.

Of course, Megatron just couldn’t let it go on like that, couldn’t let him have the say. His servos found their way to his hips, and though they at first only rested there… They soon tightened their hold until it was testing the integrity of his armor, and having his hips caved in to grind against the joints underneath… Well, that would be a smidge unpleasant.

That wasn’t relevant, though, because long before he would’ve gotten crushed to that extent, Megatron had already overpowered him by the grace of his larger frame, and there was little Sunstreaker could do to fight the grip even if it wasn’t yet denting him all the way. Megatron took hold of him like that until Sunstreaker was snarling all over again, suspended a little above the tyrant’s hips.

Megatron spoke up before he could say anything, “I think I got the point.”

Had he really?

He had, if what he did next was anything to go by. Because Megatron raised him, and didn’t just let him drop down, but slammed him down onto his spike, and Sunstreaker couldn’t silence his groan at the sheer violence of the move. 

And it only repeated. Megatron showed all of his strength by maneuvering Sunstreaker’s frame like he weighed nothing, up and down, fast and hard, until the ached in the best fucking way. “Yesssss,” he hissed through clenched denta, loving every savage entry into his frame. His digits flexed and clenched against Megatron’s chestplates, and pits but he wished he still had his claws that he could’ve sunk into the gaps of the tyrant’s armor–

But he would just have to make do with some assisting tools.

Sunstreaker reached for his subspace in a flash, pulled out one of his knives before anyone but Sideswipe would’ve had the time to react—and Sideswipe didn’t react–

And fragging buried that thing in one upward thrust through Megatron’s throat and as deep into his helm as he could push it.

Sideswipe didn’t react.

Megatron growled, a sound coming from both his vocalizer and from deep in his frame, vibrating his plating and Sunstreaker’s armor and insides by extension. Sunstreaker shivered, but didn’t tear his optics from the warlord.

Megatron removed one of his servos from his hip to bring it up instead, taking a hold of the handle of the knife Sunstreaker had abandoned, and pulling it out in one simple motion. He showed no signs of pain despite the gush of fluids that followed the blade out of the hole it had made. “If that was an attempt at damaging me, it was rather pathetic,” Megatron rumbled, tossing the dirtied knife to the side—towards Sideswipe, who caught it midair and stored it in his own subspace.

That didn’t matter. What mattered was Megatron’s smoldering optics on him and his claws digging painfully into his hip. “Maybe it wasn’t,” Sunstreaker returned in a snarl, then struck, digging his digits into the wound the knife had left behind.

Still Megatron didn’t react in any way that would have suggested pain, and Sunstreaker’s spark pulsed just that bit more urgently. Megatron did react by grabbing his wrists, both of them, and flipping them back around until it was Sunstreaker whose back collided with the berth, his servos swiftly pressed to either side of his helm by the tyrant. With Megatron firmly between his legs still, he found himself rather thoroughly pinned, and… What? At the mercy of the mech he had just stabbed? A mech not known for his forgiving nature?

His vents blasted searing air, twice so when Megatron began to move, and now, now he was going at it for real. More than that, even. The thrusts, they were on this side of pain, not pleasure, and he shouldn’t have liked it, he really, really shouldn’t have liked it…

But Sunstreaker arched into every brutal invasion of his frame, barely silencing his vocalizer from producing sounds that wouldn’t have been as much those of pain as they should’ve been.

Megatron didn’t say anything, though. The tyrant’s optics bore into him and his engine was growling, and some of it might’ve been anger, but he didn’t speak. What did that mean? That Sunstreaker got away with his actions? This time?  

“What do you plan to do with the sparkling?” he managed to ask—gasp—between one thrust and the next, staring hard at Megatron. His gaze was met with a burning one that focused just that bit further with his question.

All remained silent but for the clash of their frames and the roar and rev of their engines for a good while before Megatron grunted and seemed to decide he might as well answer. How nice of him. “I may as well take this chance to see if it could become a worthy heir. I had never planned for it, but opportunities are made to be seized.”

Heir? And what would he receive? A faction?  

No, that couldn’t be it. “Cybertron?” Sunstreaker asked, just one word, but he was sure they both knew what he meant.

Megatron wanted Cybertron for himself, that was what the whole war was about. If he managed that… Would it be what he gave his heir, once the time came to switch the powers that be?

“I will mount the Prime’s head on my wall,” Megatron growled, and now there was true hatred that dripped from his voice and field, “and build a new world free of the corruption of the Primacy. That is what I will leave behind.”

He punctuated his words with a thrust even harder than the rest, and Sunstreaker came, overload hitting him without warning and arching him off the berth. Charge crackled across his plating and arced into Megatron, and with a deep rumble the tyrant was pulled over the edge too, his release only lengthening Sunstreaker’s. His valve was greeted with increased wetness, and here he was again, destined to drip before he’d cleaned himself out. 

They were both venting hard in the aftermath, but Sunstreaker wasn’t thoroughly distracted from the topic at hand. Neither was Megatron, if the calculating look in his optics was anything to go by.

Sunstreaker met his gaze, as he had at every damn point of this meeting. “How can you be sure they’ll be deserving of that much?” Not everyone was fit to rule a whole damn planet, and frankly, passing the rule to your creation just because they were your creation seemed a bit foolish. 

Megatron inclined his helm and acknowledged that. “I can’t, and I will lose no sleep if they aren’t to be the next ruler of the Cybertron I’ll build. But I will give them the chance to prove themselves.”

So that was it. That was the future Megatron had planned for Sunstreaker’s sparkling. It was… He couldn’t say he wouldn’t have considered it a possibility, coming from Megatron. Couldn’t say he wouldn’t have hoped it was what Megatron wanted of it. 

What could the Autobots have offered it? What could he have offered it if he’d turned Neutral and went on the run? The Autobots would have demonized it, there was little doubt on his mind about that, and the life of a vagabond Neutral was a life of hardship. What could either of those have given it?

What were those futures in comparison to what Megatron was willing to offer it? To stand behind him as the next successor to Cybertron’s throne, be groomed for that role from the beginning, and if he proved worthy… It would be Sunstreaker’s sparkling that became the next leader of their species. 

The Autobots, though, they would aim to take all of that away from it, because it was Megatron who was the sire—Megatron who could provide those things to it. If the Prime won… What was there for him and his brother, nevermind the sparklet? How would the Autobots treat them, if they didn’t outright demand their execution for their desertion and the events that had led up to it? 

Megatron was the future. At least for the sparkling. But what about Sunstreaker? Starscream had said he’d be cast aside, Megatron had said he had the option to stay if he wanted a part in the sparkling’s life, Onslaught had suggested he would meet a worse fate if he was no good as anything more than a carrier… 

It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. He’d never needed anyone’s help in his whole fragging life, and that wasn’t going to change. Whatever Megatron thought would happen to him would only happen if Sunstreaker allowed it, and if he didn’t… He’d find a way out of it. He always did. He would carve his own path through life, damned be the war, damned be the factions, damned be the ones who struggled for the leadership of their kind. They were all irrelevant if he so chose.

Would he choose that?

Or would he rather have a role in his sparkling’s life, even through the future its sire was willing to give it?

That… He would need to decide on later. He wasn’t ready to dedicate himself to any course of action yet, not before he saw more of how things were going to unfold from here on out.

Megatron was looking at, studying his expression. There wasn’t likely to be much to read, but his thoughts having reached a conclusion, Sunstreaker nodded his understanding of Megatron’s words. Heir, if it became worth it.

Leaving the Autobots had been the right choice. They could have given it nothing but judgement and misery.

Megatron nodded back at him, and just like that, they seemed to have reached an understanding—a common goal of sorts, both of them looking to provide the most to their little accident. They could agree on that much.

And that was all. Sunstreaker shuddered when the tyrant pulled out of him, leaving him pouring fluids onto the berth. Megatron cleaned his spike with a few motions before tucking it away and inclining his helm at him—them, because his optics flicked to Sideswipe too. “It was a pleasure.”

Right. “Have that throat fixed,” Sunstreaker smirked, pushing himself to sitting. Megatron glared at him, but something… Something gave him the feeling there wasn’t a hell of a lot of real emotion behind it.

With that Megatron left the room, leaving them alone again. Sideswipe finally put his game away and rolled to sit on the berth too, resting his arms on his knees. “This is pretty good,” he said, tilting his helm. He didn’t need to say what he was referring to.

It had never been too big of a gamble to leave the Autobots, and really, staying just hadn’t been a real option, but this… This confirmed the rightness of their actions. If Megatron had spoken the truth anyway, but what reason did he have to lie? It wasn’t as if Sunstreaker had the power to do anything about whatever the tyrant had planned for their offspring. The scale just wasn’t positioned that evenly. 

“About the war, though…” Sideswipe continued, more quietly. And… Yeah, that was a bit of a problem. Everything would be fine and dandy if Megatron won, but if the Autobots did instead?

What then?

“Should we fight anyway?” his brother went on to ask.

Should they? For the future of the sparkling? Really complete their defection and turn against their former comrades? Kill them? For Megatron’s victory?

No doubt that would have pleased the tyrant greatly, but…

Pits.

“I don’t know,” was the only answer Sunstreaker had.

( Next )

[kellanswritingblog]

Day 4 of @rqgfemslashweek: Alternate Universe

One of the Good Guys

Modern AU where Azu is an investigator who is looking into a series of break-ins and stumbles upon a world of vampires. Sasha, who is a relatively new member of this undead community, has been using her recently acquired darkness and stealth powers to make a tidy profit as an, uh, antiques acquirer. When Azu doesn’t strike her down immediately, Sasha has to find out more about this stranger that spared her, and she and Azu wind up an unlikely tag team trying to figure out who is actually behind these thefts, and if either of them can keep their humanity in the process.

This is an idea I had a while ago, but never actually got around to writing. Hopefully I’ll sit down and write the rest of it, but for now, here’s a small snippet!

I wanted to focus on how, when Sasha was worried about turning into a lich, they all reassured her that she would still be a good person, no matter what, and to see how she would maintain her morals when actually undead.

In the whole story I have more or less planned, it is shippy between Azu and Sasha, but this chapter here is not.

Azu didn’t know where she was.  She’d been in a fight, she remembered that much, but then there was nothing, save for the small apartment that surrounded her.

A familiar yet shadowy figure stepped into the room, and Azu sat bolt upright, ready to fight.  Her gun was gone from her holster, so she started to reach for a lamp in case she needed a weapon, but she was interrupted before she got too far.

“Calm down, I’m not going to hurt you,” the dark stranger said.  “If I’d wanted to, I would’ve done it while you were passed out on my couch.”

Azu glanced around her and noticed that she had indeed been sprawled out on a comfy couch, several blankets tossed over her sleeping form until she discarded them in her terror of waking up in an unknown locale.

“Right.  Okay.  Who are you?  What am I doing here?”

“You got knocked out.  So I dragged you back here.  You’re big, you know that?”

“I saw you… at the museum.  You’re a thief and a…”

“I’m a vampire, yeah.”

“Right,” Azu said again, trying to parse out the stories from the truth.

“Name’s Sasha."

"Azu."

"I know.  Do you want some food?”

Azu drew back slightly.  “Do you mean… blood?”

With a sigh and a roll of her eyes, Sasha replied, “No.  I popped out and got a bunch of takeaway.  Didn’t know what you might like, and I don’t really remember how much living people eat anymore, so I just got a few things.  I figured you’d be hungry.”

“I am, yeah.  Thank you,” Azu said cautiously, hoping the rumble of her stomach wasn’t too loud.  She allowed Sasha to lead her to the kitchen, where nearly two dozen boxes of takeaway food were placed on the counter.

“I hope it’s enough,” Sasha added.

Azu couldn’t help but chuckle.  “You’ve been a vampire a long time, then?  Because this is a lot of food.  Like you said, I’m big, but this is enough for several days’ worth.”

“Oh.  Well, you got leftovers then.”

Azu noticed that Sasha didn’t answer how long she’d been a vampire and decided not to push it.  Even though she was kind enough right now, she didn’t want to risk the ire of someone with some strange abilities, undead or otherwise, especially while in their abode and weaponless.

Instead, she picked up a box of Indian food and followed Sasha back to the living room, where she sat on the couch and dug in.

“Do you… can you… do you want some?”  Azu questioned as she noticed Sasha watching her intently.

“No, no, I can’t eat that stuff anymore.  Well, I can, but it’s not pretty.”

“Fair enough.”  After a moment, Azu froze, and moved a hand to her neck.  “You didn’t… bite me, did you?  Is that why you’re not hungry?  You drank my blood?”

Sasha sighed again, but this time there was a faint smile on her lips.  “I don’t just drink random people’s blood; you never know where it’s been.”

“Where do you get your blood, then?”

“Blood banks, mostly.  It’s all vetted and tested.  And that way there aren’t people or corpses showing up with bites on their neck.  We vampires already get a bad rap, we don’t need any more people coming to look for us.”

“Makes sense.”

Azu finished eating, then closed the takeaway box and set it on the coffee table.  She leaned forward toward Sasha.  “I don’t understand what’s happening.  Why did you rescue me?  How did you even know where I was?  What’s going on?”

“I mean, you saw me at the museum.  You saw me… acquiring some antiques for some… appraisal…”

“You were stealing from that fancy gem exhibit, yeah.”

“If you want to put it like that,” Sasha chuckled.  “But you saw me as a thief and a weird monster, but you didn’t strike me down.  You could’ve shot me, you could’ve screamed, but you didn’t.  I wanted to know why.”

“You weren’t the person I was looking for.”

“That’s it?”

Azu nodded.  “I didn’t know much about vampires, didn’t know for sure if they were real, but it’s hardly the strangest thing out there.”

“Well… thanks, for not shooting me.  So, I followed you?  I was curious.”

“You were following me?  How?  I didn’t see you at all.”

Sasha smirked.  “I’ve always been good at hiding.  Since turning undead, I’ve just gotten better.  Don’t feel bad.  Nobody sees me coming.”  She continued, “When the Hunters caught up with you and questioned you, I saw them hit you, and I had to do something.  So, I lured them off, and then came back to get you.  What are you looking for?”

“I’m trying to figure out who is stealing priceless ancient artifacts from across the city,” Azu explained.  There wasn’t much use in hiding her mission, was there?  "Some of them are important to Aphrodite, and we want to recover them."  She gestured to the pink insignia on her chest.

“And yet you didn’t try to stop me?”

“You were stealing gems.  There was a group of people stealing a stone tablet on the far end of the wing.  I think it was clear which thief I was tasked with finding.”

Sasha let out a heavy sigh.  “Mortals are looking for them too, then.”

“Who?”

“Don’t know.  But they’re nicking a bunch of important things and leaving dried out bodies around.  It’s bad for business.  There are more Hunters running around town now than there ever were before.”  She hesitated.  “I want to help you.”

“Help me?”

“Yeah.  I can help you on the case.  I want to stop them too, most vampires do.  They’re not subtle; more people are going to be looking into what they’re doing, and that means it’s more likely some innocent vampire is going to get caught and killed in the process.  I want to help stop them.  I can’t do it on my own.”

“I don’t know…”  Azu pondered.  After getting knocked out twice, once in the museum, and once by the group of Vampire Hunters that came to question her on the street, though, she figured it couldn’t hurt to have someone watching her back.  “You know what, sure.  Why not?”

Sasha beamed.  “Alright.  I’m not used to being a good guy.”

“Bad guys don’t generally offer to help cops track down a bunch of murderers and thieves.”

“Doesn’t make me a good guy, though.”

Azu smiled.  “We’ll see about that.”

[waltzofthewifi]

Kota Chapter 4: The Hatzi Family

Beginning | Chapter 3 | ToC | Chapter 5

Every once in a while, Hawkmoth did something good.

In fact, as Lacy put away her notebook after the students were finally allowed back in the classroom, she was fine with the super villain. Anything to put off that dreadful math test.

"It's nice," Alya said. "Hawkmoth usual waits until after the hardest class to akumatize someone."

"Don't tell me you're actually thankful he akumatized the janitor," Marinette replied.

"The janitor gets more respect for his work, I get an extra day to study, what's the problem?"

"I'm with Alya," Nino said. "That test is scarier than he is."

"I feel sorry for Carapace though," Lacy admitted. "I mean, he and Rena Rouge just arrived, and he was immediately blasted with trash?"

Chloe made a face. "I can't imagine how smelly he is now."

"Well he doesn't smell now," Alya argued. "Ladybug fixes everything, remember?"

"Besides, it's Chat Noir you have to feel sorry for," Alix commented. "Taking a mouthful of rotten food like that."

"Or Adrien, who spent an akuma day stuck at home," Kim added. "Just missed the whole thing."

"You sound like you enjoyed watching the heroes being beaten around with trash," Marinette noted.

"Of course not. The fun parts were when the heroes were winning. Did you see the backflip Ladybug did?"

"It was so cool!" Alix agreed.

"It was actually pretty bad form," Lila pepped up. "My PE teacher in-"

"Bad form?" Chloe snuffed. "She leaped off of a flying broom. Rossi needs to show some respect."

"I thought it was pretty cool," Alix admitted. "Of course, everything Ladybug does is cool."

"I don't understand why you were watching her," Lacy replied. "Hiding is a thing, Alix."

"But-!"

Lacy swung her bag over her shoulder and grabbed her coat off of the chair as Alix finished zipping up her backpack.

Lila was still talking, and Alya seemed enraptured (Lacy could've sworn a second ago she was annoyed at the bad form comment too, but any traces of that were gone).

Next to Alya, Marinette seemed put down by the focus on Lila.

One person. Wasn't that what Ladybug said?

"Hey Marinette, me and Alix are spending the afternoon at my place studying. Want to come?"

Marinette brightened at the suggestion. "Sure! Let me just text my parents so they know where we are!"

.

Lacy tapped her pencil against her paper, trying and failing to focus on the study sheet.

She, Alix, Marinette, and Nathaniel were sitting at the table, faces scrunched in concentration as they studied for the test. Alix and Marinette had both improved a lot during their study session, and Nathaniel was doing well too, but Lacy was struggling to make sense of the numbers. It didn't help that she couldn't focus, that every time her eyes met the paper her mind wandered away.

Still, even if she could focus, math was math.

Marinette finished working on a problem with Alix and glanced over at Lacy. "Any progress?"

"Nope," Lacy replied.

Marinette scooted her chair over and looked at Lacy's paper.

"Can you tell that this isn't my thing?" Lacy asked.

Marinette chuckled. "Is it anyone's?"

"You seem to be doing fine," Lacy commented.

"Doesn't feel like it." Marinette leaned forward on her elbows and wiped at her eyes. "You know what? I think we all need a break."

"Seconded," Alix said. "I'm grabbing a snack. You still have those ice creams?"

"Top shelf of the freezer," Lacy replied. "Grab one for me?"

"Sure. Marinette, Nath, you guys want one?"

"Sure," Nathaniel replied.

"Yes please." Marinette pushed her tablet away. "So, how's your family adjusting to Paris?"

"We're getting there, I think," Lacy said. "It's still weird how commonplace akuma attacks are. I mean, just the other day the Eiffel Tower collapsed and people shrugged it off as no big deal."

"Well it happens all the time," Alix said, coming back to the table with the ice creams. "The first time it was all people could talk about, but now it's nothing."

"I remember when I was akumatized it was still so new," Nathaniel recalled, taking his ice cream from Alix. "It was hard, those first couple of months, because not a lot of people understood just how convincing it all is. But now everyone knows someone's whose been akumatized."

"Poor Mr Ramier's been akumatized about forty times now," Alix added. "And a few months ago he was sent back in time by an akuma, or so I heard."

"Have you met them yet?" Nathaniel asked.

Lacy frowned. "Who? Mr Ramier?"

"No, Ladybug and Chat Noir," Alix finished.

"Oh. I met Ladybug briefly the other day - she crashed through the wall over there. Haven't met Chat Noir yet."

"Have you tried taking pictures of them?" Marinette questioned. "I know you how much you love photography."

"Oh, I, uh-" stay away from Akuma fights as much as possible "haven't really gotten the chance."

"Well if you get any, you'll have to show us," Marinette said.

"Yeah, your pictures are always so good!" Alix added.

Lacy felt herself blush. "Thanks."

"How did you get into photography anyways?" Marinette asked.

"Well, my dad took me to take climbing lessons," Lacy said. "I was very hyper as a child, and originally he put me in dance, but then he started noticing that a lot of the older girls had developed image problems. Because of the competitiveness around it, you know? So he tried to get me in a sport where that wasn't such a problem. And I loved it so much I wouldn't stop climbing for weeks. And of course, being up high all the time, I started asking to borrow Elisabeth's camera and take pictures, and that developed from there."

"That's really cool," Marinette stated. "Did you ever do climbing competitions or anything?"

"No, not really. It's more of a hobby than anything. Something to release all the excess energy."

Nathaniel took the last bite from his ice cream. "Alix keeps trying to get her to skate."

"I think it'd be fun," Alix said. "After all, you're one of my only friends who can keep up with me."

"I hope you know how exhausted I am afterwards," Lacy replied.

"If you practiced with me, you wouldn't get so exhausted," Alix pointed out. "Proper practice and exercise is important. You've seen what happens whenever someone like Lila tries to do anything athletic."

"And you never get injured?" Nathaniel questioned.

"Nope, never."

"Liar."

Marinette and Lacy both chuckled.

With all the ice creams finished, Lacy picked up the trash and walked to the kitchen to clean up.

"Anyone want anything else? Dad keeps plenty of food."

"No thanks," Marinette said. "That ice cream was good though."

"Should we get back to work?" Nathaniel suggested.

"I think I'm studied out," Alix admitted. "Let's play a game instead. UNO?"

"I'll grab the cards," Lacy agreed.

It took her ten minutes to remember where the cards were. In their old place, they had a closet for games, but they had condensed it into a drawer and she had no idea which drawer. Eventually she found the cards, and the four started a game.

Lacy ended up grabbing a bag of candy to snack on as the four played, and she was just getting up again to grab a soda when the door opened.

"I'm home," Elisabeth called out.

Lacy smiled and went to greet her stepmom with an obligatory hug.

"Hi Ms El," Alix called from the table.

"Hi Alix, Nathaniel," Elisabeth replied, walking to the table and dropping off her work bag. "And, I don't believe we've been introduced?"

"Marinette. I'm in the same class as Lacy."

"She's the designer I was telling you about," Lacy supplied.

"Yes! You've done some really cool designs, haven't you?"

"From what Lacy tells me, so have you," Marinette replied.

Elisabeth chuckled. "One or two. But I think I prefer working with designers over being one." She yawned, stretching her arms out as she did so. "Oh, I think I need sit down for a while. Your father should be here soon. Let me know if you four need anything."

Elisabeth affectionately patted Lacy's head before heading up the stairs.

"Your stepmom is so cool!" Alix said.

"She seems really nice," Marinette agreed.

"She is," Lacy replied. She sat down again, before remembering her soda in the kitchen and getting up to grab it. "You sure you don't need something to drink?"

"We're fine," Alix said. "Now are you going to play or what?"

.

The four of them had just finished their first game when Lacy's dad arrived with dinner.

"I didn't realize we'd be having so many over," he said. "Or I would've brought more."

Lacy chuckled. As usual, her dad had brought home more food than any of them could eat. The Hatzi family, after all, were social butterflies - someone almost always had someone over.

"Here, let me help you with that," Marinette offered.

Lacy's dad waved her off. "I can handle it just fine. You four just focus on your game."

"Actually Marinette just finished wiping us all out," Lacy said.

"Is there any game you don't win at?" Alix asked.

Marinette sighed dramatically. "Just matters of the heart."

Lacy chuckled and Alix rolled her eyes.

With the stubborn assistance of Marinette and Lacy, food was on the table within a few minutes.

"Elisabeth, honey! Dinner's ready!"

"Perfect timing." Elisabeth joined the group, hair wet and donning soft pajamas. "Oh good, you three are staying for dinner. We need some extra mouths for all the extra food that miraculously makes it's way into our home." Elisabeth gave her husband a huge welcome home hug before turning back to the teenagers. "Speaking of miraculous, wasn't there another akuma today?"

"Got us out of our math test!" Alix said.

"That's why we came over here, to get some studying done," Marinette added.

The two adults sat down at the table, and the six of them dug into the meal.

"Thank you for letting us stay for dinner," Marinette said. "I know we hadn't asked, but time slipped away and-"

"It's no problem," Lacy's dad replied. "We like having a few extra people for dinner. Besides, it sounds like your parents have been feeding Lacy well whenever she's at your place."

Lacy nodded. "Her parents are super nice."

"So did you have any school today?" Elisabeth asked.

"No," Marinette said. "We spent the whole day holed up in our safe spots."

"Or at least some of us did," Lacy said. "Alix here wanted to see the fight."

"It wasn't just me! Alya and Nino followed me!"

"Yes, because Alya is such a good rolemodel for survival instincts," Lacy commented.

"Were any of you injured?" Her dad asked.

"No," Alix said. "Though I saw Chat Noir take a mouthful of trash."

Elisabeth made a sour face. "Yuck."

"I think you can relax, Lace," Her dad commented. "I'm not one to encourage reckless endangerment, and you should be in hiding, but the damage is undone, right?"

Lacy nodded. "Right. Yeah. I'm just still not used to it."

Could she ever be? After witnessing so much damage in New York, after losing so much... the idea of a reset button was foreign. She was always afraid that it was too good to be true, that if she or her friends ever got hurt-

"I wonder if Ladybug's powers undid the nasty taste Chat Noir must have had in his mouth," Elisabeth wondered.

Marinette and Alix both snickered.

"I hope so. He made quite a face when he was hit," Marinette commented.

"Yeah, he was all like-" Alix gave her best imitation of his face, scrunching her nose up and sticking her tongue out, causing everyone to chuckle.

"I think Chat Noir has a more refined palette than trash," Marinette said when she stopped laughing. "He has visited my parents bakery a few times."

"I don't blame him, it's a great bakery," Elisabeth commented. "My coworker brings in food from there all the time to share. Best part of my work day."

"Marinette brings food for us all the time too," Nathaniel said. "It always brightens up the day."

Marinette blushed a little. "Oh, thanks. My parents love sharing, and so do I! That is, when I don't trip on the way to school and drop them all."

"Yeah, and then Alya gets all the left overs," Alix commented. "I think that's called favoritism."

"It is," Marinette agreed. "What can I say? She and I are best friends."

Marinette's smile stayed for a second, but something must have crossed her mind and her smile slipped.

"Everything okay?" Lacy's dad asked.

"Hm? Yeah. I just... remembered something from earlier."

"You and Alya aren't fighting, are you?" Alix asked. "I mean, you two are practically inseparable."

"Except when it comes to Lila," Nathaniel pointed out.

At that, Lacy's mood dropped.

Alix groaned. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Can we not talk about her?"

"Wha- I thought you two were friends?" Marinette asked.

Alix shrugged. "Eh. I mean, she's nice and all, but when she's around, everything has to be about her. Kinda wish she could show some of that support we give her, you know, without making it about all the celebrities she knows. Like the other day, we were talking about Max's video game, and she just had to point out that she knows this famous coder in Texas - I didn't even know there were famous coders! And I know Max didn't mind, but I just - we were talking about what he had accomplished, and she made it about her. It's getting annoying."

"Very interesting. She sounds like she might be doing that on purpose, especially from what -"

"Haris honey, we've talked about you diagnosing my and Lacy's friends," Elisabeth chimed in.

"You think she's doing that on purpose?" Alix asked. She frowned. "I... I never considered that. I guess it's possible."

Nathaniel shook his head. "No, Lila's a sweetheart. She wouldn't do something like that."

Alix shrugged. "Maybe. It's still annoying. I want to be able to support my classmates without talking about some celebrity in another country that Lila's met - and especially when it comes to fashion! Marinette's amazing-" Marinette was also blushing at that comment "- and Juleka's finally branching out into modeling, but Lila is always dismissing that. I don't blame you for not liking her, Marinette."

"Oh, uh, thanks," Marinette said.

Alix stretched her arms up above her. "Anyways, have you seen the new identity theories? I mean, I usually ignore them, but these are ridiculous-"

.

As Elisabeth and Lacy cleaned the table and Alix dragged Nathaniel to watch something online, Mr Hatzi called Marinette over.

"Yes?" Marinette asked.

Mr Hatzi pushed his glasses back up on his nose and gave Marinette a warm smile. "I just wanted to talk to you about something."

He sat down on the small couch in their living room and Marinette sat down across from him. He leaned forward on his knees and clasped his hands, and Marinette wondered if this was what he was like with his patients. If so, it was no wonder he was asked (or did he request?) to come to Paris - there was something about his gentle smile that made it easy to relax around him.

"Is everything alright?" Marinette asked.

"Actually, I was going to ask you that. It sounds like this situation with Lila is affecting you more than you're willing to admit."

Marinette blinked. "You - you noticed?"

No one else seems to, except Adrien, and only when he's really paying attention.

Well, him and Lacy. I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree here.

"I'm very attentive when it comes to my daughter and her friends," Mr Hatzi said. "And, well, it is my job."

Marinette nodded. "Yeah, it's hard to deal with her at school. Like Alix was saying, she makes everything about her - but the thing is, it's all lies! And not even smart ones! All it would take is one google search, but no one makes her prove her accusations. Alya keeps telling me I'm just jealous, but really, I'm worried for everyone! Alya's been putting so much of her life on halt to help Lila was problems that she can't reasonably have! And Ms Bustier believes her without question! She gets out of almost every hard homework assignment, or leaves Alya or Max or Nathaniel to do it. Every week it's a new injury, except they heal fast or switch sides or - and I'm sick of it! The only people who know she's lying is Adrien and Lacy, but Adrien doesn't have a backbone and she's already scared Lacy to death!" Marinette took a deep breath, her chest feeling a little lighter.

"Feel better now?"

Marinette nodded. "Yes, thank you. Sometimes I forget how much telling someone can help."

"I definitely understand why she's bothering you so much. If I had to work with someone like that, I'd be pulling my hair out. Especially if I thought it was having a negative affect on my coworkers."

Marinette nodded. "Right. Thank you." She took another deep breath. "Do you have any idea of what I should do about it?"

"It's hard to say without knowing more," Mr Hatzi admitted. "Have you talked to your parents about this?"

Marinette shook her head. "Alya's already painted her up to be some angel to them, I don't want them to think that I'm being antagonistic for no reason."

"Do your parents usually believe you?"

Marinette nodded. "Yeah, I guess so. I just - it hurts being called mean or cruel, especially since she's the one doing it to me. I've been bullied for most of my life - I would never do that to anyone else. And yet." Marinette sighed. "But you believed me, I guess."

"To be fair, Lacy's come home with her fair share of complaints." Mr. Hatzi sighed. "I don't know if she told you this, but she had a bully back in Brooklyn who was a lot like Lila. She's too scared of being subject to that again, and I can't blame her. Watching her go through that - but the teachers never believed us, of course."

"She did mention that before," Marinette said. "But she's been reaching out in her own way. Like inviting me here tonight - me and Alya were supposed to do something, but she cancelled to help Lila with her homework. I don't know if Lacy overheard us or could just tell something was wrong, but inviting me here really cheered me up."

Mr. Hatzi beamed. "I'm glad to hear that. Lacy's very intuitive when it comes to other's feelings. She's like her mother like that."

"And like you," Marinette added. "Just talking it out helps me feel better. And knowing that someone else believes me."

"You did mention another friend that believes you," Mr. Hatzi said. "Adrien, was it? I haven't heard about him before. Is he in your class?"

"Yes." Marinette sighed dreamily. "And he's perfect. He has the nicest smile, and he's super kind and-" she stopped when she noticed Mr. Hatzi looking at her with an incredulous look. "What?"

"Adoring words for someone who just accused him of having no backbone."

"Yeah, I know. I always imagined him rising up, a knight in shining armor, against someone like Lila, and it isn't like he's completely abandoned me, but I wish he'd do more."

"Have you told him this?"

"I - well, you see, the thing is, I can't have a conversation with him without stuttering like an idiot."

"So that's a no? I know talking with a crush can be intimidating, but he's not a mind reader. At least not that we know of. Maybe he doesn't realize that you feel like this."

"I never considered that," Marinette admitted. "It's true that he isn't the best at reading social clues. I guess I could try to talk to him."

"Failure to communicate hinders a lot of relationship," Mr Hatzi said. "You'd be surprised how many people forget to communicate the basics."

"I'll remember that. Thank you."

[mittensmorgul]

I am sure this has been addressed before but I am rewatching with my sister and we have gotten to season 8... she was wondering why Dean was so mad at Sam for not looking for him and doing the normal life thing when Dean moved in with Lisa and did the normal life thing when Sam went to hell at the end of 5. I couldn't really come up with a satisfying answer for her.. what are your thoughts? Sorry I am sure you have written about this before.

Hi hi! And yeah, this has been talked about plenty before. There’s a few distinct yet vitally important differences between Dean’s situation during his “year at Lisa’s” and Sam’s year basically running away from… everything.

First off, before he said yes to Lucifer in 5.22, Sam extracted this promise from Dean:

SAM: This thing goes our way and I…Triple Lindy into that box… y-you know I’m not coming back.DEAN: Yeah, I’m aware.SAM: So you got to promise me something.DEAN: Okay. Yeah. Anything.SAM: You got to promise not to try to bring me back.DEAN: What? No, I didn’t sign up for that.SAM: Dean –DEAN: Your Hell is gonna make my tour look like Graceland. You want me just to sit by and do nothing?SAM: Once the Cage is shut, you can’t go poking at it, Dean. It’s too risky.DEAN: No, no, no, no, no. As if I’m just gonna let you rot in there.SAM: Yeah, you are. You don’t have a choice.DEAN: You can’t ask me to do this.SAM: I’m sorry, Dean. You have to.DEAN: So then what am I supposed to do?SAM: You go find Lisa. You pray to god she’s dumb enough to take you in, and you – you have barbecues and go to football games. You go live some normal, apple-pie life, Dean. Promise me.

A double-pronged promise, and we know for a FACT that Dean did not honor one half of that promise. I think the only reason he stayed with Lisa as long as he did was because it was the only half of that promise he COULD fulfill… but in 6.01:

Dean: Good for who? I showed up on their doorstep half out of my head with grief. God knows why they even let me in. I drank too much. I had nightmares. I looked everywhere. I collected hundreds of books, trying to find anything to bust you out.Sam: You promised you’d leave it alone.Dean: Of course I didn’t leave it alone! Sue me! A damn year? You couldn’t put me out of my misery?

So even though he was MISERABLE at Lisa’s, he coped by collecting “hundreds of books,” i.e. DOING TONS AND TONS OF RESEARCH, trying to figure a way to get Sam out of the cage.

And Sam, being soulless at the time, actually believed that Dean wouldn’t have broken that idiotic promise (which, according to that long quote from 5.22 above, he never technically promised, but rather talked his way around and changed the subject…)

But as far as Dean knew after 5.22, Cas was up playing Sheriff in Heaven and getting all that nonsense under control (and surely if there was anything to worry about, Cas would’ve let Dean know). Bobby was still hunting as per usual (and surely if there was anything to worry about, Bobby would’ve let Dean know). >.>

(Basically Dean had NO IDEA how catastrophically wrong things were before the djinn showed up at his house in 6.01, partly because Sam had also made Bobby promise not to tell Dean that he was “back.” And Bobby honored that promise… And Cas (as we learned eventually in 6.20) had signed on to work with Crowley in order not to make Dean break that promise to live an apple pie life with Lisa, because Cas was trying to protect Dean after everything he’d already sacrificed… and yikes all of that just went so catastrophically wrong anyway…)

Now, after 7.23, Crowley grabs up Kevin and refuses to tell Sam anything about what may have happened to Cas and Dean, telling Sam that he’s entirely on his own now. Dean never asked Sam to go off and have a normal happy life should anything happen to him. And there’s a couple things about this that really bother me…

I mean, yeah, Sam had NO IDEA what happened to Dean and Cas. But instead of even trying to figure it out, he took the Impala and ran for it. Basically drifted through life for a while until he ended up at that motel in Texas where he met someone else drifting just as much as he was. Amelia was a hell of a lot more open with him than he was with her, but they both had their baggage. Just like with Jess at Stanford, Sam never told Amelia anything about his “family business.”

But Sam had leads he COULD’VE explored… and one of the things Sam let slide during that year that was most personally upsetting to me, and which likely could’ve led Sam to at least an IDEA of what had happened to Dean and Cas: Kevin.

Sam “ditched the phones,” and quit hunting. Kevin, meanwhile, spent MONTHS desperately trying to contact Sam and Dean after escaping Crowley and going on the run.

DEAN: He was our responsibility. [He tosses the phone at SAM’s chest.] And you couldn’t answer the damn phone.

All the while, if there had been ONE PERSON ON THE ENTIRE PLANET who may have been able to make an accurate assessment of what had happened to Dean and Cas, it was probably Kevin. He’d translated the leviathan tablet, after all. And Sam had even bailed on looking for him, even knowing that Crowley was likely… treating Kevin rather poorly, at the very least.

And I mean, I kinda get it from Sam’s POV (Nothing says family like the whole family being dead…), and the last time Dean “died” and Sam had KNOWN where he was, he really went to Bad Places™ in the hunt to either get Dean back or to get revenge on Lilith for killing him. I really do understand why he ran after 7.23, when you look at it from that perspective…

But wow. He was in deep denial about his entire life’s history for most of that year. Living with Amelia was sort of this soft-focus (which was even the camera effect they used for a number of the flashbacks to his time with her) not-really-real time in his life. Like one long dissociative episode. Sam was Not In A Good Place.

Meanwhile, Dean came back from his year in “God’s armpit” with a very different experience. It was all TOO real for him. 

SAM: Look, I’m still the same guy, Dean.DEAN: Well, bully for you. I’m not.

So Dean had just spent the better part of a year desperately searching for Cas, because it was all he could do. He refused to leave Purgatory without Cas, and then right at the last second, just as he was escaping through the portal… Cas refused to go with him… Ouch.

Dean “failed” at saving Cas after that year of horror and 360 degree combat, but Sam failed to even try to save him. He just hopped in the car and drove away like he could just forget everything about his life up to that point, while Dean was trapped in a place where the monsters never stopped coming at him.

I guess if I were Dean I’d be a little bitter about that too…

eta: a couple of excellent links to old meta on the subject, dug up by detective mel:

http://quarterclever.tumblr.com/post/50687433626/the-winchester-brothers-on-failure-vs-quitting (part 1: Sam)

http://quarterclever.tumblr.com/post/51539952104/the-winchester-brothers-on-failure-vs-quitting (part 2: Dean)

http://zimshan.livejournal.com/248857.html (don’t worry, Mel and I already spent five minutes cursing photobucket, but the meta is still solid despite the lack of images)