#Jazz deserves to go a little crazy

[chaos-bringer-13]

Jazz's little. Her parents are super cool. They're ghost hunters! It sounds like something from a movie about future and scientists and supernatural beings and cool-looking tech. They have cool-looking tech at home. It's even cooler than tech in the movies.

Jazz also has a little brother. He's stupid but he's hers, and she will protect him from anything. Her brother is very small, he needs someone to protect him and teach him about the world.

She knows about the world. She understands their parents much better than him, and she can tell her brother when they shouldn't be distracted. She knows when they're upset and irritable, and she knows when they're too excited and being near them is dangerous because of all the inventions.

Jazz does a very good job keeping her little brother safe.

---

Jazz goes to school. Her teachers say that she's very smart, the best student in class, and very mature. Her parents are proud of her - when she manages to distract them from ghosts. Her brother is still kinda stupid and doesn't know how to properly fight food, but she's always there to protect him, because that's what older sisters do.

Her classmates seem to think that she's weird though. Some of them say mean things and call her a teacher's pet and a show-off. Jazz isn't sure why they think so because she's always trying to be friendly but maybe she's doing something wrong. She goes to the school library and finds a book about people and their communication.

It's a very interesting book.

---

Jazz is almost a teen. She's gotten better at communicating with people. The school library ran out of psychology books, and Jazz now has to go to the city library but that's fine. Human brain fascinates her.

She's been feeling like something is wrong about her though. She even thought that she was going crazy for a little bit. That probably wasn't true because she didn't match any symptoms but she was still worried.

Someone told her that being so good at lying and faking face expressions is not okay. That's probably not true, Jazz is pretty sure almost everyone can do that. Or maybe she's just being a prodigy again. It's a very good thing to be able to do after all. She can hide her emotions from her family when she's feeling sad. She wouldn't want to worry them, would she?

She'll have to research it.

---

Jazz is a teen. She now knows that her parents aren't actually that good. It's something that was really hard to accept but it did explain everything. Her parents are kinda bad at being parents, and they also don't really listen when she tries to explain it to them.

It's okay. She's almost an adult and Danny has her. She can take care of herself and her brother.

She learns everything she can about being a parent and a therapist and tries to use her knowledge. It's hard, but she's a Fenton, which means that she's very smart and determined. She pushes through, and trains on her classmates and herself.

In the evening she writes about her feelings in a journal. It's very important to be aware of her feelings because that's the first step to dealing with them.

She's experiencing sadness. And anger, actually, even though she doesn't like to admit that.

She writes "this family is a fucking mess" in her journal and then covers the paper with ink until the sentence is absolutely unreadable.

---

Jazz is sixteen, and her stupid parents opened the stupid portal, which means that they're even worse than usual. It's pretty much okay when they're just stuck in their stupid lab, making some stupid weapons. It's not that okay when they're out of the stupid lab, because they get their stupid inventions all over the stupid house, and stupid food comes to life, and she has to protect Danny from both their stupid weapons and stupid hotdogs, and oh god everything is so stupid.

She's experiencing anger.

She's also acting perfectly calm and almost cheerfully.

Jazz hates how perfect her fake smile is in the mirror.

---

Jazz is seventeen. She wants to put her headphones on and listen to some loud music. Jazz can't do that, because she gets anxious if she can't hear what's happening around her. She needs to be fully aware of her surroundings because she needs to be able to protect herself and her brother if weapons against ghosts become weapons against children again.

She thinks that it's not okay.

The house smells of ectoplasm, so she'll be extra careful when opening the fridge.

She thinks that she shouldn't know how ectoplasm smells.

Jazz should probably also warn Danny: her little brother's gotten better at fighting food but doesn't notice the smell of ectoplasm. Funny, considering his ghost sense.

Funny, considering that her brother is a half-ghost.

That her brother died.

That she failed at protecting him after all.

Jazz stops breathing to prevent herself from crying, and doesn't need oxygen for a few minutes too long.

Maybe she failed at protecting herself too.

---

Jazz is turning eighteen next month. Her parents are all of a sudden more attentive and caring, as if that can change their almost-absence during her whole life. She doesn't like their attention because she doesn't know how to deal with it. She doesn't even really think of them as parents anymore.

She thinks of them as a threat.

Once she's eighteen, she's gonna try to move out, and she's going to take Danny with her because it's not safe to leave him here. Maybe after she gets a good job and saves some money, she'll even get into therapy.

Jazz thinks that she needs therapy.

She's been having Bad Thoughts lately, and she doesn't write them down in her journal. Jazz stopped writing anything in there ever since she found out that Danny is a ghost. She just couldn't risk anyone finding that journal.

Jazz isn't sure if she should call those Bad Thoughts intrusive. They scare her, and they're Bad, but it could be just her normal thought process.

It's still definitely not normal.

---

Jazz is eighteen. Her parents are very excited, whispering to each other about how they found a perfect present for her, some surprise that she's gonna love.

She doesn't care.

Her little brother is late from school, and it's weird, because he was also super excited about giving her his present.

She's worried.

Her parents brush off her concern, say that Danny probably just got distracted talking with his friends. They don't listen when she says that Danny wouldn't get distracted like that on her birthday because he's not them, he actually cares about her, he doesn't forget her birthdays, and something has to be wrong for him to be that late.

They don't listen to her at all.

She's angry.

Her parents are excited and talk loudly about how they wanted to find a perfect gift for their favourite daughter, and how they managed to do it because they love her so much. She hates when they're excited. It only leads to problems.

They bring her to the lab because of course they do, why would they make a gift that is normal and isn't kept in the lab, right? They usher her in, so obviously proud of themselves.

She hates them.

And she hates them much, much more the next second, because the gift is her little brother in his ghost form, strapped to a table, unconscious and injured, and the smell of ectoplasm is strong in the lab because of his green blood dripping on the floor.

There's a cold part of her that analyses her feelings and tells her what emotions she's experiencing, and that part is very aware of thick black smoke of wrath twirling and twisting under her skin. It's suffocating, and she stops breathing as it invisibly fills her lungs, scared of letting it out.

There's a perfectly fake part of her that keeps the smile on her face as her parents gush about how hard it was to catch the ecto-scum, and what they can do to it - together with Jazz because they wanted to share this with their amazing daughter.

Jazz is black smoke of rage under perfect glass of calmness when she grabs Fenton anti-creep stick. The smile she learned to fake under any circumstances doesn't falter when Jazz brings the baseball bat down on her father's head. It grows a little bit wider when she hits her mother, because Jazz learned to smile brighter when she's hurt or sad or scared or angry - experiencing any "bad" emotion actually.

Jazz is angry when she grabs her weapon.

Jazz is furious when she kills her parents.

Jazz is worried when she checks her brother's wounds.

Jazz feels nothing when she rigs the portal to blow, walks out of the house and presses the button.

She is her parents' genius daughter after all, and she did listen when they were telling her about their inventions. Maybe it would have taken longer to do, but she had Bad Thoughts, and they probably weren't just intrusive after all, because she did what they told her and made it very easy to make a bomb out of a portal. Just in case. Her parents were a threat, and Jazz was smart enough to prepare to dealing with threats, and she was smart enough to make it look like the threats dealt with themselves.

She really hoped she wouldn't have to use that button though.

---

Jazz is nineteen. Her sort-of-friends at uni offer to go to a restaurant, and she tells them that she doesn't celebrate her birthdays. There's a noise of all of them saying that maybe she should try, noise that she really should have expected, because humans are always so excited about any holidays, it's hard for them to understand that someone might not like them. It's not hard to stop that noise though. They shut up very quickly when Jazz says that she had "a very traumatic event" on her birthday.

Good. She doesn't like loud people.

Jazz goes home to her little brother. He's sad because his parents died in an awful explosion a year ago. He's still trying to smile because it's also her birthday, and Jazz is very happy that he's bad at faking a smile.

It means that he won't end up like her.

Jazz hugs her little brother, and he gives her a little present that she adores, and then they sit in silence and eat some takeout. It's very nice.

She never tells Danny that their parents died before the explosion, and that the explosion wasn't an accident, and that their ghosts did form after that because of all the ecto-contamination they had, but she made sure this wouldn't become a problem. She never tells him what she's done, because that would hurt her little brother, and she would never let anything hurt him.

Jazz will protect her little brother from anything.

[charlietheepicwriter7]

the ship name for jazz x dick grayson is Night Birds, right?

Well, Night Birds, but Jazz was Red X

Every summer, Maddie and Jack would sign Jazz and Danny up for the cheesiest, mind-numbingly boring ghost hunting camp in the world, located in Jump City. There's maybe a dozen other kids there, but only two camp councilors, so it's super easy for Jazz to sneak out of there. Danny, of course, is super mad that she doesn't take him with her, but as the elder, the 12 to his 9, she refuses to risk him in the dangerous metafilled Jump City.

This ghost hunting camp is what sparks Jazz's bitter, teenage rebellion. SHE wanted to go to a psychology camp; she'd even picked one out in Florida, only a few miles away from a space program for Danny. But noooooo, Dad had found a dirty, ripped pamphlet for Spooky Ghost Camp and signed them both up, without. even. asking. At least Danny's well looked after, being the youngest kid at camp, but that gives Jazz free time.

and in her free time, she fixates on one of her first obsessions: the psychology of superheroes.

Not sure how Jazz would get the Red X suit; she'd have to learn that Robin was Red X, then steal it, and I'm not sure how'd she'd accomplish that. But she's a smart, independent child badass, I'm sure she figured it out.

Every year her parents sent her and Danny to that damn ghost camp. Every year, Jazz put on the Red X suit and tormented the Teen Titans. She couldn't dye her hair, or sneak out at night, but she had crime. Robin gets his first bisexual crisis because of her bantering/flirting with him.

Eventually Danny finds out she's Red X and is thrilled. His sister can beat up the Teen Titans, it's so cool. Maybe in the future, Jazz can steal the Pink X suit from the Teen Titans Go comics so Danny can join in the fun, have some fun gender shenanigans for them both to have alteregos that are the opposite gender.

The reason why I thought of thsi au is because I keep reading "Danny is a thief in Gotham" type stories (which are EXCELLENT) and I can't stop imagining this specific scene: Thief Danny is cornered by the batfam, about to be caught, when out of nowhere... *spanish guitar* Red X comes to save the kid. No one knows who this guy is except for Nightwing, who seems to automatically hate this guy who's... flirting with him? Is this a Cat Woman situation? This sounds like a Cat Woman situation.

Also, not sure which I like better:

For Jazz to fill out on her chest, but keep the male voice of Red X, leading to some gender confusion.

For Red X to become less of an addition to Jazz as it is part of her core personality. She is just as much Red X as she is Jazz, so when her chest comes in, she thinks "hmm, don't like that" and gets top surgery.

bc Jazz? Still totally into the Red X game even as an adult. She even found a similar ghost hunting camp in Bloodhaven after Robin went solo. She hadn't even graduated high school yet, but her favorite hobby is tormenting this one superhero. She bats at him like a cat with a spider.

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC: I wanna be like most girls ghosts.

or Danny: What should I do to make my mom happy?

or ~Danny deserves a little teenage rebellion as a treat~

Maddie: I just want this damned Phantom to stop pretending to be a hero! All ghosts are pure evil, who is he trying to deceive? Danny: Oh, really? And Danny took it personally.

It’s not Danny’s fault that he’s a good kid and wants to make his parents happy. But why would he have to be a monster to make them happy? Why must they hate him to be happy?

Danny’s obsession was going crazy.

Well, when your own parents call you a monster in the face, it hurts. Why do they always believe that only their opinion is the absolute truth? They have no idea how much worse things would be if at least some of the ghosts really behaved the way Maddie and Jack think they’re supposed to. If he really is evil by nature, is there any point in fighting his own fate? They want to see him as a villain, he will become one. He will. He just needs a little help and practice. And not bring it to the level when Clockwork has to clean up his mess. Poor guy is without a vacation for how long? Couple of millennia?

Johnny 13: Sup. Danny: F*ck off, Johnny, I’m not in the mood. Busy thinking about world domination. Get out of here or I’ll call Kitty. Johnny 13: What’s wrong? You’re usually so grouchy only towards the end of the week. Danny: Nothing. Just parents. Again. They are wonderful but I can’t help but feel sometimes that they, em… Johnny 13: Suck? Danny: Right…Damn. I’m a terrible son. Maybe something is wrong with me. Johnny 13: What? No, no, dude. You’re just growing up. And you’re a little late, usually teenagers go through that stage before they graduate. Well, you’ve probably been busy with other issues, so just missed it. Danny: I wonder whose fault it is. Aren’t there ghosts who enjoyed to ruin my life in the middle of school day?

Johnny 13: Oh, bother. Anyway, you’re entering a beautiful time of emancipation, where you’re going to shape your own view of life and, along the way, to get drunk on cheap alcohol at parties, maybe to go to jail and to become the greatest disappointment to your family..And then you will be ashamed to remember it for about the next ten years. Danny: Well, it looks like I’ve already done two out of three additional things. Great success. Johnny 13: When did you get drunk? Danny: I didn’t. Johnny 13: Oh. Want to fix that? Danny: What? No. What an idiot wants to add a headache to his problems? Johnny 13: Well, your loss, then I’ll go terrorize the bars of Gotham alone and no one can stop me. Let’s see what your boyfriend will say about it. ~~~~~ Danny: Bartender, another shot of Dead Man’s Fingers, please. Red Hood: Babe, haven’t you had enough? Danny: Have you ever felt that no matter how hard you try, no matter how many sacrifices you make, in their eyes you’ll always be nothing more than a monster? Nothing more than a mistake? Oh, Death doesn’t give people like me a break. Red Hood: …I’ll have what he’s having. *gives the bartender a sign to switch the rum shots to a batburger milkshake for them, and starts talking to Danny so that he doesn’t understand Hood's scams*

~~~~~

Johnny 13: Other people’s kids are growing up so fast. It seems like yesterday he didn’t know how to shoot ectoblast, and now.. Kitty: Stop trying to make me feel bad, we’re leaving. Johnny 13: But the boy needs our support, honey boo!

~~~~~

Danny: I'm fine. Really, I am. This isn’t the first time mom’s called me a monster. She often called me that when she was upset with my behavior in my childhood. Huh, it's even funny. Jason: There’s nothing funny about that. Danny: No, you don’t understand. Looking back, I was really a very active child and didn’t know when to stop. Not surprisingly that I often annoyed my parents. They’re very busy people, and Jazz couldn’t always keep an eye on me. And I was often afraid to go to sleep alone because there were shadows in the darkness of my room. Well, I used to think they were. But I pretended everything was okay to not distract parents from work. Jason: Hey, it’s not your fault. You were a child. Obviously, kiddo requires a lot of attention, they must have understood that. You are the second child in the family, right? Danny: Well, Jazz was different. I don’t know. Anyway, I thought if the monsters behind the curtain and under the bed were just like me, well, according to my mom, you know, then they wouldn’t want to hurt me. And since they look after me, they are friends. So I kinda greeted all the suspicious noises and howls. Huh, I was a strange kid. Jason: If you smile at someone in the dark alley right now that someone is more likely to wet themselves or faint. Danny: Rude! I’m not that scary. Admit that I’m adorable. Do it right now. Jason: Stunning, darling. But still carry a gun and a knife, please. My childhood taught me that what's hiding in the dark is worth beating up. Danny: Come on, what should I be afraid of? Death? Anyway, I want to try this shit. Like, the inevitable one. Being a bad boy, you know? Hood *raises eyebrows*. Danny: Oh damn it man, I'm talking about ghostliness. I want to try to be like most of dead ones. I want to unleash my side of the trickster and the villain. But only a little bit. I have to be supervised so that things don't go too far. Would you help me, honey?

~~~~~2 hours later~~~~

~~~~~

Goons used to expect a lot of weirdness from working with the boss.

Sometimes Bruce Wayne would go into their base and yell at the Red Hood like he's one of his kids. Of course Wayne's well-known as 'Gotta adopt them all' but the guy must really suffer from insomnia to count the Red Hood into his brood of chicks several times. Sometimes the boss would fight Robin or Nightwing over differences in morals…or for biscuits. It varied from moment to moment. Sometimes the boss caught the local street children, fed them and taught them to steal correctly. And most of the foundlings stayed with them under their protection.

To make a long story short, Red Hood is not the typical crime lord that some of them had to deal with before. Which is a blessing. Thanks Lord for the health insurance. But still the crime lord. Which means he's still scary, and sometimes deadly.

Anyway, when the boss brought in a guy who looked more civilian than any civilian in the whole Gotham and said he was going to be their intern, they thought it was a joke at first. Despite the fact that Hood was not in the habit of joking while working.

The teenager was too well-mannered and sweet to come from Crime Alley. Phil thought the guy was gonna run when he saw the first murder, Jessica didn’t think the domestic boy wouldn’t chicken out at the sight of a fight. But arguing with a boss’s orders in their profession is like asking for a bullet in the head, so these conversations were taking place outside of their boss's sight. God, how can they teach him anything? What do you take from a boy who’s only good to do the coffee run? Fenton will fall if they’ll give him something heavier than 10 pounds. And then boss will yell at them because he treats the new guy like a princess on a pea. Well, at least that’s what they thought until the boss decided to give the new guy his own assignments:

~~~~~

Red Hood: So, what have you learned during your internship, my young Padawan? Danny: Well, it looks like I’m gonna suck at being a criminal mastermind. I think I may have to find myself some other profession. Red Hood: Come on, you just need a little more practice. Danny: Thank you but I don’t think that’s fit my obsession that good. Don't misunderstand me, I wanna be like most ghosts. But I was wrong to go to hit that goal only base on human stereotypes about my nature. Red Hood: What a pity. The newbies just learned not to flinch when you walk in. But, to be honest, I'm not gonna miss the adrenaline-boosting roller coaster of you at work. Danny: Oh, and I guess to hold on to the concept of humanity was really stupid too. I clearly no longer fit in and I’m finally ready to accept that. So, hopefully, if you get into trouble, you can rely on my ghostliness and call for help. I am the spirit of many talents and of my word. I can haunt your enemies or walk through the walls of Arkham Asylum. Whatever you need, I’ll be here. Red Hood: I’ll bear that in mind.

[notsodailycake]

Part 3 for the fitclet I did for @keferon 's mecha pilot jazz au! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

For those who missed it:

Part 1 || Part 2

This is probably the longest out of all the 3 parts, dear god, I went all in. It came out bigger than I ever expected it to be. I was not expecting it to go this far honestly, but the parasites in me, they begged for more. So here we are! :D

Again tho, idk how in character they will be here, but I tried my best ＼(*T▽T*)／. Also, kinda bullshitted my way through in worldbuilding bc idk how things work exactly- and I had to come up with stuff on my own, even tho I'm not that good in mecha world stuff, so I'm sorry for any inaccuracies ^^;;

Now, to give credit to those who so desperately deserve it:

My sister @saltynsassy31 for helping me when I couldn't write out some of my ideas and doing it herself (so consider this as a bit of a frankenstein monster of both our writing styles, mainly during intense scenes. If there is any fancy words in this, it's cuz of her) and being my beta reader for this part. Seriously yall, this wouldn't have been as coherent and well written without her help!

Also huge thanks to my online sister @yayadrawsthingz for helping out when I hit a few road blocks during this!

And finally, a huge huge thanks to my honorary online uncle @hexyz09 for helping me finish off the final fight scene when I got stuck during some plot holes and road blocks, or generally just writing myself into a corner and having to help me leave it, despite not knowing jackshit about the au, let alone the ship and characters themselves, but was still willing to help me through in working on the plot, in this crazy obsession of mine XD

Yall have no idea how much help these guys were. Probably wouldn't be able to finish without either of their help ᕦ(òωóˇ)ᕤ

Oh and an honourable shoutout to the song "Headlock" by Imogen Heap! Kept listening to this on loop as it kept my drive up to write this.

Now onto the fic!

---

Prowl ignored Jazz's various attemps to push out his servo from the cockpit. Despite the mech being weak himself, the human was still no match against thousands of pounds of metal, especially in his own weakened state.

Which was a matter of its own at the moment. Prowl knew he had very little time to be able to run ahead before the other humans caught on to them, having noticed the alarm bells ringing through the facility.

So he ran towards the exit Jazz had initially pointed out, the only plan they had at the moment.

...

"Prowl! Prowler, hey! I know you can hear me! Prowl!" Jazz shouted as he slammed yet another fist in a failed attempt to nudge the bot's servo out of the way. He hasn't said a word since picking Jazz up, and he wasn't sure how long that was, maybe not that much, but it felt too long yet too little at the same time (what a headache).

Sliding down, he gently hit his forehead over the protective servo and let out a sigh of defeat. No way he could get him to move like this.

Why was he trying to anyways? Didn't he want to be with Prowl? He certainly did, but somehow, something in him made him feel like he shouldn't just be accepting this.

And maybe Prowl also knew this, which is why he took off and hasn’t said a word since. Both held conflicted feelings about the whole thing. If only things didn't feel so blurry right now!

Suddenly, a hard shift made Jazz stumble a bit, grasping at whatever he could so he didn't fall back, loud noises of metal scrapping metal could be heard as something got kicked open on the outside. Jazz scrambled over to the small crevice that opened between Prowl's digits, not enough for him to fit anything over other than his hand, but enough to get a glimpse of what was happening outside.

Prowl had kicked down the exit door to the lab ('not like he had the hands available to properly open the damn thing anyways' Jazz thought to himself). It was meant for mechas to exit the room after they finish off whatever it is they do in here, that Jazz knew, and if he was right, just down the hall there will be another exit leading to the backroom where they stockpiled the mech suits. No one but the technicians were usually supposed be there, it would be an easy fight to get to the big gate that lead to the outside training grounds, which is why Jazz had pointed for the mech to go down there in the first place.

There shouldn't have been a problem besides giving him time to leave unscathed. Which Jazz assumed would not be the case as he was currently inside Prowl and not buying him time to escape. But, to Jazz's surprise, nothing had come close to attacking them, yet.

The pilot did not have much time to contemplate it as suddenly he heard Prowl rumble an annoyed grunt.

"Don't move."

In shock, Jazz stumbled back as Prowl removed his hand and reached for the end of the overhead gate, seemingly alot harder to kick down than a two way door. The only thing it would really do would be to bend the metal a bit but it wouldn't give an open entrance. Jazz didn't dare leave, not like he could from this hight, but even if he could, Prowl would probably just pick him up again; it be a waste of energy really (just admit it, you don't want to leave him). But something about this felt wrong, so far they haven't had a single guard come down the hall, just this small pause would give them enough time to catch up to the two runaways, Jazz was sure that guards had been on his tail when he was under his rampage.

Unless...

Wait.

"Prowl! Wait don't open that gate!" But he was too late, the moment he uttered those words the mech had already been in motion and pushed the gate up with all his might and as quickly as he opened it a gun shot came through the otherside. They had been waiting for them, they knew where they were heading. The bastard he kicked down prior to this probably saw them and reported it, dammit.

Prowl let out a strangled cry of pain as the shot landed right on his left shoulder (like it wasn't damaged enough by the lack of arm), Jazz fell backwards with the harsh motions, hitting the back of the pilot's seat, the impact leaving his vision to go dark for a few seconds before he collected himself as quickly as he could. In an instant though, just as he tried to get back up to see what was outside, Prowl had put his hand back over the open cockpit.

No...he wouldn't be able to fight like this, protecting him as he is would only hinder the bot to more damage. And that's exactly what Jazz intended to express to the other. "Prowl! You won't be able to fight with your hand over me! Forget about holding me inside, I won't leave, I promise!"

"That's not the point!" Prowl growled, letting out another hiss of pain as more shots were loaded, someone shouting out for them to stand down.

Prowl couldn't risk leaving Jazz exposed. Unlike the human, Prowl could take a few shots, their weapons not being strong enough to inflict any serious damage to his plating (though perhaps a bit to his exposed protoform, though he could handle it for a little while longer). But it would take one lucky shot on Jazz to have him dead in an instant, and Prowl couldn't take that chance.

It seemed like Jazz got the message, not spitting back any sort of remark about Prowl's lack of explanation.

But the mech couldn't linger too much on those thoughts, he had to get out, and fast. He was losing too much energon, and his vision was starting to get blurry, which wasn't a good sign. It didn't help that his thoughts were a hazy mess, his usual ability to think logically overthrown by the panic of needing to get out of this place while ensuring Jazz's survival.

It's not like he had much to do, though. Any possible escape hindered by the fact he couldn't use his weapons unless he risks Jazz's life to one lucky shot. Perhaps he could make a run for it, knock through the mechas in front of him and let them tumble over as he reached the final exit; it wasn’t the best plan perhaps, with at least a 19% rate of success, given he isn't in the best physical state at the moment, he probably wouldn't be strong enough to knock them over. Added to the fact the exit wasn't shut by a gate he could simply knock over easily either, like the previous one. He'd have to push it open from the bottom, and there wasn’t enough time for him to act on it.

But he'd have his back turned to the shots, reassuring Jazz's own safety, so he could perhaps risk removing his servo to push the gate open once more.

With a quick warning from his HUD telling him his energon levels were getting dangerously low, Prowl decided to take the risk, with little time left, he took a step forward making a run for it.

The mechas seemed to ready themselves for his attack, quickly positioning their weapons to target him, closing any narrow space they had between each other.

What they didn't expect was for the mech to charge his whole body weight onto them. Despite not feeling any pain, they certainly could not fight against gravity itself. They all stumbled against each other as Prowl made a mad dash to the gate. He slid on his knees and made a quick reach for the bottom of the gate, anxiously removing his hand from over the cockpit, bending over protectively as to not have anything be able to aim inside.

He could feel his spark beating fast from anxiety, they were so close, they'll be able to leave soon enough. Jazz was most certainly having a good feel to Prowl's anxious beat, the loud thruming reaching the bot's own audials was most certainly deafening to the human sitting near it.

Then, a shot.

A pop.

A blinding light.

And the beat stops.

Jazz was curling in on himself as an instinct to protect himself from the sudden burst behind him. It only took a few seconds for him to realise what that was once he couldn't hear a single beat of a spark, or the burning sensation it left, feeling his own heart stop and drop to his gut.

It felt like the world around him suddenly stopped, everything going into slow motion, with no sounds to accompany the dread. Feeling as Prowl's body leaned foward to crash on the ground.

But just as quickly as the silance came, it left. Prowl catching himself from hitting the ground with a grunt, a slam could be heard as his arm and elbow made contact with the concrete floor. His spark beating, weakly, but beating nonetheless. What felt like hours of silance was only a quick few seconds of deafening dread.

"Prowl!" Jazz called out in desperation, reaching out to hold the edges of the cockpit, so not to fall out, but to also try and comfort his anxiousness as he tried to look up at the mech's face. The mech made a sound of acknowledgement, which came out more like broken static, but didn't make much effort to move, his face scrunched up in pain, optics shut. They shot him on his back, too close to where his spark would be, causing him to skip a beat, and busting a bit of his left doorwing, but it still seemed to function somewhat.

Suddenly, both of them picked up on the sound of something opening, giving no time for either to fully process what had just occurred. Prowl made a quick move to get his hand over the cockpit once more (with slight struggle as he stumbled and fell on his aft) as a thick metal slab emerged from above and beneath, right in front of the gate, shutting it close with a protective layer of metal. Guessing by the red alarm ringing around them, an emergency protocol to keep anyone from leaving. Slag.

The mechas surrounded them, guns all aimed to shoot at the alien mech if he didn't comply.

It was silent for a brief moment, in exception to Prowl's anxious beating spark (which wasn't a problem for Jazz at the moment, the burning warmth being somewhat comforting) and Jazz's own heart beating over his ears. Both catching their breaths.

"There's no point in fighting. So make this easy for all of us and surrender yourselves." A nobody pilot finally spoke out, weapon leaning a tad closer than the others.

The atmosphere felt heavy, they were pinned down. Really, the only thing they could do was surrender, but Jazz would sure as hell be reprimanded for his actions and Prowl.....he didn’t want to think about that. No, he wouldn't even allow that thought to become any sort of reality.

"Prowl" he whispered, knowing only the mech would hear him, leaning a gentle souch to his servo as if to beg, "I know you might not have alot of trust 'n me, but this might be our best shot." There was a tense shift, not too noticeble unless you could see the mechanisms from the inside, Prowl knew what he was about to suggest. "You need to let me pilot you." He cringed as he felt the other's servo stiffen, he wasn't pleased with the idea, and neither was Jazz, but he knew this place alot better than Prowl did, and knew how to properly defeat the mechas, knowing their weak spots. And Prowl was all too aware of that too, Jazz knew it. They both were very aware of it all.

"Please," he begged, leaning his forehead on the mech's servo yet again, "I can't lose you again." There was slight shift, Jazz looked up, though he obviously couldn't see the mech's face, the sigh he let out was loud and clear. The controls on the pilot's seat shifted, Jazz got the message:

'Alright'

He couldn't help but let a small smirk creep over his face, making way to sit down and start piloting.

"Under one condition though," Prowl suddenly whispered to him, though it was alot louder to Jazz on the inside.

"And what would that be, partner?" The title flew out too fast for Jazz to stop himself, feeling so natural to call Prowl partner once more. The mech didn't seem against it though.

"No removing my hand."

Jazz was left stunned for a quick second, though it felt like a minute for Prowl as he waited for a reply eagerly.

"I can work with that." Prowl let out a sigh of relief at that, allowing the human, his partner, to take control of him again.

It took a moment for Jazz to adjust himself, in the meantime, the people waited outside anxiously for the other to make a move. When Prowl finally started to shift around to stand up with a small grunt, everyone raised their guns and loaded them up, but didn't shoot just yet. The mech looked up at them with a deadly glare, but made no move to attack, his remaining arm not leaving the open cockpit for a second, he simply stood up with a slight slump to his posture, doorwings drooping down slightly. In all possible ways, he looked weak and defeated, no signs of fighting back.

One of the mechas walked closer, gun still aiming at Prowl, but it was lowered slightly. They reached a hand out expectantly.

"The pilot, hand him over." They demanded, no sympathy whatsoever.

Prowl clutched his chasis, anger pooling over in his spark, doorwings twitching up slightly, but he made no move to attack. Not yet. He heard Jazz speak to him in a low tone so only he could hear it, with a sigh, he relaxed. He slowly, very slowly, drew out his hand from the cockpit, the action in itself having the other mecha have their body relax slightly as they approached the mech, weapon being put down slightly enough, and so did the others around them. Jackpot.

Before he fully removed his servo, the mech made move to crouch down and in a swift motion swung a peed over to the mechas own, catching them off balance and knocking them down. Jazz let out a small hiss to the action, forgetting his own injured leg, but pushed on regardless.

Using the thrusters of his doorwings, they were able to balance themselves back up, Prowl's servo going back into fully protecting it's pilot once more. With most weapons being aimed up and not down, it took a delayed second to aim correctly, but it was enough time for the human and cybertronian duo to twist themselves out of harms way.

Before the fallen pilot could attempt to get up, Jazz made move to aim over the weak spot of their mecha's knee and stepped hard enough to break its mechanisms so they couldn't stand back up easily. But the glory was short lived as more shots were fired their way.

Jazz's hand twitched to move and use its weapons, but he resisted the urge with a slight huff, "Man, 's hard to fight without an arm!"

"This is none negotiable, Jazz." Prowl hissed as they made move to avoid more shots.

"I know, I know! Don't mean it makes it easier!" Jazz tried to analyse their surroundings, though it was made difficult with the many HUD warnings from all the injuries (the pilot couldn't help but mutter a broken "I'm so sorry" to his partner, whether the mech heard him or not he wasn't sure), but pushing through it, he took note of a few key details. There was a metal catwalk grate near above the mechas' heads, running with a few on ground troops, the bastard of a boss being one of the few amongst them. Near a corner stood an elevator to go up and down the area.

How that could help, Jazz wasn't sure yet.

A shot hit Prowl's arm, pain flowed through the mech as he moved out of the way once more. Jazz looked around in a frenzy to find a place to shield themselves....the mechas! Making a run for to the lifeless husks, he swivelled around between them and hid behind the many rows of mechas knowing full well that they would not risk such precious resource and money just to reach them. At least he hoped not, because he just needed a little bit of time to figure something out.

Hearing the big man call out to hold their fire was good enough indication that his idea worked.

"Ok, now we just need somethin' to distract them long enough for us to make a jump to the ceiling." Jazz explained

"The ceiling?" Prowl inquired, not so certain about his partner's ability to properly think at the moment.

Jazz rolled his eyes, but didn't make mention of the mech's tone. "It's the weakest point here, plus" he made way for Prowl to look up to where he remembered the area to be at, "there's a trap door for flying mechas and emergencies. One quick press of a button will open it up, even under "safety protocols."" Prowl let out a hum in thought, seeming to analyse the situation.

"Possible, but where is this said button?"

"Behind the elevator, by the catwalk grating on top. There's a control panel, and one big red button, can't miss it."

"Would smashing it still get it to work?"

"Yes."

"Then I don't have any complaints."

"Good, now," Jazz went back to scanning the area, "how to cause a distraction?"

"Would that broken pipe be of any use?" Prowl made an effort to twitch his head over to the direction of what he wanted Jazz to see. And just as the mech stated, there, by the first floor of the elevator, stood a broken pipe, steam coming out of it.

Jazz smirked "it would actually. If we can get somethin' to shoot at it, we might cause an explosion, giving us time to jump up without being the target anymore."

"Sounds like a plan." Prowl shrugged.

"Don't have anything to add?" Jazz asked a bit surprised.

"No, I don't." The pilot didn't push.

"Okay. Well, let's get these bastards shootin." In quick motion, they made way to the elevator, already hearing the commands to shoot fire, 'but watch for the machines!' Weapons were loaded from above as well, shooting down at the two runaways once again.

Jazz made sure to move swiftly behind the mechas, making sure they were shielded properly. Any gaps they had to cross was a small risk they needed to take, scrapes and scratches being left in its wake, but tried not to do it too often, just enough that they could follow them. They eventually reached where the pipes were, Jazz took a deep breath.

"Ready, big guy?"

"Ready."

They stepped foward, making sure to call the attention towards where they were, but quickly retrieting back behind the mechas suits as they shot directly where they wanted to hit. "Bingo."

Quickly, activating Prowl's thrusters, they leaped over to the metal grates that stood above them as the pipes behind them burst, causing a huge commotion as empty mechas fell down and whatever machine near the crossfire tumbled down. Prowl let out a gasp as he felt the world around him spin, the grating beneath them not being of any help as it shook with his weight. Jazz was quick to hold on, helping the mech stablise himself before aiming with his left foot to kick the big red button with their ticket out of here, the motion causing his vision to flash in pain, but he bit his toung until he could taste iron and pushed forward.

Hearing the metal door above them open up, Jazz readied himself, but hesitated with the warning he'd received from Prowl's HUD from his low energon levels. He didn’t even get the chance to fully check on it though, Prowl quickly pushing them out of the way himself.

"I'll live, just one more push." The mech hastily reassured the human. Jazz wasn't inclined to belive it though, feeling the other's spark beat anxiously (and for some reason that made him feel slightly dizzy. Though he chalked it up to it being his possible concussion).

It took one shot to slip an inch away from Prowl's face for them to finally snap out of it and jump. One more push from his thrusters as they flew up through the trap door and landed on top of the roof with a grunt, the mech's left wing finally giving out.

But they weren’t in the clear yet. Looking out, a wasteland of a forest awaited them, with dense trees at the bottom.

"We'll have to make a jump for it. If we're lucky enough the trees will be big enough to hide us." Jazz supplied.

"45% of that happening. But we don't have much of another option at the moment." Prowl added

With all that being said, Jazz moved into action. With so much at stake, he had to, he couldn't waste another second in debating. Hefting Prowl up, he used all remaining strength to jump where they needed to go, but as the training grounds began to get closer than anticipated, Prowl knew they didn’t make the jump and that made the mech almost freeze.

Though Jazz had other plans, because as their impending flat doom approached in rapid speed, Prowl's remaining thruster burst to life and gave that final impusle they needed to reach the slope. They both braced themselves as they were thrown up and over to their intended destination, Prowl having half a mind to tighten his hold over his chest so none of the debris and impact could reach the fragile human still in his care.

They rolled down the slope, Prowl just barely being able to shift himself so that he was sliding on his back instead. The aggresive motion of going down a not so smooth path causing bigger cuts and slashes against his already damaged frame. But the only thing he could think of at the moment was that they made it.

Jazz was quick to let go of his control over Prowl, who in turn made an effort to sit properly. Though the sudden slamming to his servo made him look down worriedly, moving it slightly to see Jazz leaning on it desperately.

"Prowl-" he heaved, "Prowl put me down I'm feeling sick."

The mech panicked and quickly made move to help the human down, gently placing him on the grass below. Jazz made no effort in being graceful as he hurled over and puked his guts out, luckily avoiding Prowl in all of this.

Clutching his stomach in pain, his heaving and coughs agitating the injuries on his abdomen. Everything around him felt blurry and muffled as his body made sure to get everything he had eaten in the past day out of him.

What made him panic was the sudden taste of iron in his mouth as he coughed up whatever he had left inside. That's not good. And that definitely didn't escape the giant mech's notice, who kept a hovering servo near him.

"Jazz! Is that blood?!" His voice sounded so broken, static lacing over his words.

"Uh- Yeah. Yeah it is." He wasn't sure how to deny that really, and he felt too light-headed to try. But his attention diverted to the sudden pink glow that landed at the side of his vision.

Energon.

Quickly looking up, he finally got a glance at his partner's battered condition. Energon leaked from many different parts of his body, but the main source being from his missing arm. Jazz couldn't help but cringe at that.

But what hurt him the most to see was the weak light from the mech's optics, which still held visible concern on them. Despite being close to going into offline, he still looked at Jazz as if he's about the crumble into dust and leave him. Which he honestly, maybe, felt like. But seeing Prowl's optics flicker as they fought to stay online, Jazz panicked

"What 'bout you?!" He called back, catching the bot off guard. "You're losing too much energon! You look like you're about to go offline!"

Prowl cringed a little, not having anything to counter that. "Well that's because I-"

"No! I'm only a little bit dizzy, but I'll live. We need to patch you up right now!"

"I can help with that."

The new voice catches the duo off guard, Prowl immediately reaching out to Jazz, hand shielding the human from whoever that might be. Jazz looked down from where he was looking at Prowl and turned to see who it was that the voice came from.

There standing in front of them was a human carrying a simple tool box and a huge backpack strapped over one shoulder, filled with questionable things.

---

BEFORE YOU LEAVE, a little something I would like to point out for the fic, that some of yall with either like or not, during the process of writing this, I've seen a few posts keferon made about the spark being radioactive and such, and it sorta made me think a bit while developing Jazz's condition. So well, take Jazz's health in this as you will with this info :)

But anyways, yippie!! That's all for today folks! I hope yall enjoyed this one bc I definitely had a heck of a time writing this one XD

It got alot bigger than I anticipated and took much longer to finish than I originally planned (was supposed to be done 2 days ago).

Now, I know I keep saying "not sure if I'll make another part to this" but then proceed to do so anyways. But I mainly do so because everytime I shared it someone said something that added to the story somehow and gave me ideas to continue foward.

So like, if yall liked this and wanna see more, don't be shy to suggest/add anything to this as it may help inspire me to add more onto this, cuz honestly idk what the fuck I'm doing rn, I'm just going with the flow ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Also, a bit of note for the doodle, holy shit I did not expect it to look this good!! Tho I suffered with Jazz's suit, plz ignore any inaccuracies tee-hee. Prowl's knee and hands were hell too, especially his knee, but i could like, hide most of it lmao. Actually mainly struggled to not have his hand cover Jazz too much bc it kept covering the parts I actually wanted to show off lmao.

Oh and the guy at the end? Yall can take a good guess as to who it is :)

But since he doesn't have any official design, I kinda went with whatever felt right lol.

I also really wanted to draw out more scenes to add to the fic, but then it would take me a lot more time to actually post the fic as I figure out how to draw robots :'). But maybe I can try and doodle them out another time if I can, no promises tho-

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Just A Little Bite (Vampire!Nanami x Black!Bimbo!Reader 18+ One Shot)

Pairing: Kento Nanami x Black!Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Something strange is going on with Nanami. He doesn’t know what it is and neither do you. All you know is that he’s been extremely…possessive lately. And tonight at a friend’s costume party, when he sees you dressed in your sexy little outfit that garners unwanted attention from other men, Nanami’s “instincts” kick in and he drags you off to show you and everybody else that you’re his and his only. But does this strange yet sexy behavior come from you or is it just a full moon?

Warnings: Smutty Smut, 18+ (MINORS GTFO), Monster!Nanami, Bimbo!Reader, Black-Coded!Reader, Semi-Public Sex, Jealous!Nanami, Marking, Biting, Blood Play, Hypnosis, Dubcon/R*pe, Doggystyle, Mirror Sex, Mating Press, Unprotected Creampie, Mutual O, Choking, Aftercare, Dom!Nanami + sub!Reader, Established Relationship/Dating, Couples’ Costume, Monsterf*cking

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: Vampire!Nanami is a concept that was just TOO HOT not to write about. Idk about y’all, but I’d let Nanami suck on my neck and my p— *TV FUZZ SOUNDS* any day 🤭 I based this one shot around the sexy fan art by @aliasnnmknt on their Twitter. PLEASE check out their work & enjoy! -Jazz 💋💋💋

**********

Nanami watches you like a predator would watch his prey: ravenously, possessively, and almost menacingly.

He stands off to the side nursing his lukewarm beer that he grips so tightly in his fist that he nearly breaks the glass bottle in half. He briefly pictures the bottle being Gojo’s neck instead that he wrings and snaps in half.

He blinks away the murder scene from his thoughts, criticizing himself for such murderous thoughts. He has never thought this way about anyone before…until you. As he watches Gojo hang around you like a bee hovering around honey, he can’t think about anything except how close the guy is to you—his girl.

He can’t exactly blame him though. You look absolutely to die and kill for in your little vampire costume for Gojo’s Halloween party. You put a sexy little spin on it with the mini skirt you paired with the lace black corset that pushes up your juicy breasts for all to behold. Your face brightens as you smile, the fake fangs in your mouth giving you such an adorable look that Nanami can’t stand it. Despite the thigh high, high heeled boots you wear, Gojo still towers over you. Like Nanami, he has a thing for pretty things too. Why must you be so goddamn pretty? So cute?

And it isn’t just your looks. Your bubbly, sweet personality makes you even more addictive. You’re so nice to everyone, even those who Nanami believes may not deserve it. But that’s what he adores about you. He’s fucking obsessed with you. ….Obsessed enough to wear a couple’s vampire costume with you and attend a Halloween party that he really didn’t want to go to.

“Wow, Y/N!” Gojo coos, his voice carrying over the music pulsing throughout the house. “You look so cute tonight! That blood is drippin’ like crazy though.” He uses one of his fake knife fingers to poke you and leans in closer to inspect the fake blood dripping down your plump lips to your chin to your neck right down to those luscious, full, pretty, soft, juicy, suckable ti—

“Thanks, Satoru!” You giggle, patting the taller man on the shoulder. He grins down at you, his Freddy Krueger hat tipped up to show off his handsome face. “Don’t worry, the blood is edible and washes right off. Nanami is dressed as a vampire too! Did you see him?”

Gojo’s smile turns into a smirk that boils Nanami’s blood. “I sure did,” he chuckles. “The guy has been hidin’ in the shadows all night. He’s livin’ up to the role.” He nods over to where Nanami is, a glint in his blue eyes.

You turn around in your vampire cape and give him an adorable waggle of your red, manicured fingers. Gojo waves too, mockingly so, while he plays with the ties of your cape at the nape of your throat. He’s too close. He’s too fucking close.

‘Asshole,’ Nanami thinks, chugging back some beer as if to ease his increasing anger. ‘He’d better get back now or I’ll—‘

“Here’s another drink for the lady,” Ino announces, passing you a red solo cup topped with a concoction of vodka and fruit juice. You love anything sweet and fruity. “Saw that your cup was empty and wanted to oblige.” He flirtatiously grins at you, appearing like the demon he’s dressed as tonight. Of course he put the fake horns over that damn beanie.

You gasp, putting a hand dramatically to your heart at the gesture. “Oh, thank you, Ino! Isn’t that so sweet?” You give him a hug to which he returns, giving Gojo a shit-eating grin. Under the blinking orange and red lights above, Nanami can see Gojo’s eye twitch in irritation. He has no right to be irritated. You’re Nanami’s girl. His baby. Why are all of these men so hell bent on trying his patience?

And why did you have to wear such a delectable outfit with your tits and thighs out? Nanami never was the type of man to tell his partner what to wear. He’s not that possessive. But damn, does it grind his gears to see other men ogle at what is his like ravenous dogs.

What does he have to do? Tear your clothes off, bend you over, and fuck you until he makes you cum to make them see that you’re his?

He blinks, shocked by the sudden dirty thought. Nanami is sexual, yes, but these deviant thoughts have never crossed his mind with you. Despite how small and cute and sweet you are, all he has ever wanted to do is make you feel good and attend to your body. He wants to give you pleasure. Give you what you want and need. He is completely at your service.

But the idea of littering your soft skin in teeth marks, making those pretty brown eyes roll back as he fucks you dumb, and filling you up with his cum makes his cock harder than he’d like to admit. He has to cover his bulge with his cape to avoid anyone seeing his obvious hard-on.

Now more have started to surround you until you’re like a movie star getting swarmed by her adoring fans. “Wow, Y/N, those nails are so long!” Yuji gasps, dressed as Chucky the Doll tonight. “Jeez, did you grow ‘em yourself?”

Megumi, dressed as absolutely nothing but a ‘This Is My Costume’ shirt and jeans, rolls his eyes. “Stupid,” he mutters. “Obviously, they’re fake.” You giggle as Yuji peers down at your long, red nails, even playing with them. Nanami has never wanted to kill a child before, but if Yuji doesn’t get his hands off of you, there’s going to be a big problem.

Geto suddenly appears like a phantom appearing out of thin air, just as tall as Gojo and dressed in a Ghostface costume. “Careful, or she may just scratch you with ‘em,” he sniggers, giving you a flirty look. “Not that I’d mind that.” Gojo chuckles, tossing an arm around Geto’s shoulders. “Me either. Call us pain sluts.”

Oh, they’re sluts indeed. Nanami knows all about how this whorish couple scoops up pretty little things like you and shares them in the bedroom. You could never want that…not with them. If you’re going to have a threesome with anyone, he’ll clone himself for that.

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that,” you giggle, patting Geto on the chest. “You guys are too sweet to me! I’d only scratch up the bad guys and spooky monsters.” You make a show of cutely scratching at the air, your perfect lips wrapping around the rim of your cup.

“Weeeell, I think demons count for both,” Ino chuckles. “Better luck next time, fellas.” He gives a wink to the couple as he tries to sneakily wrap an arm around around your shoulders, but Gojo stops him by physically cutting between him and you. “Ya might wanna tell yourself that,” he says, peering at Ino over his sunglasses. Maybe you’ll have some game next time.”

Ino’s smirk grows cockier, but before this can go South, a song that excites Yuji begins to play. “Y/N, you’ve gotta come dance to this!” He says, grabbing you by the hand. “You like Megan Thee Stallion too! I remember! Megumi’s gonna dance too!” You giggle at Megumi who blushes, elbowing Yuji in the side.

“No thanks, kids,” Gojo tuts, shooing the younger men away. “Besides, Y/N doesn’t wanna dance with two ametures.” He smiles down at you, but it isn’t friendly. Nanami can see the undercurrent of lust in it.

“Geto and I know a thing or two about sharin’ a partner,” he says in a sultry tone. “Can you handle two at the same time on the floor, cutie?” He and Geto surround you like two hawks, waiting for you to let your guard down. Nanami just about loses it. He is seeing red.

But you—sweet, oblivious you—don’t see the ulterior motives in the couple’s offer. “Oh, but Nanami might wanna dance too,” you add. “He’s right over there!” You point to where he stands on the wall, giving him a pretty smile that floods his stomach with butterflies. After taking one final swig of beer for liquid courage, Nanami places the bottle down on a nearby table and strides up to meet you on the dance floor. The throng of people part for him, not wanting to get in the way of this tall, big man with forearms and thighs that could crush heads.

Gojo and Geto couldn’t look less intimidated by the blonde in his vampire costume, same as his girlfriend. “Ohhh, so he’s finally blessed us with his presence,” Gojo teases. Nanami ignores him, but gives both him and his boyfriend a glare as he takes your hand in his.

He leans down to whisper in your ear, hit by a whiff of your sugary perfume. What is that? Vanilla with a hint of caramel? Whatever it was, it was making him hard as a rock. “I need to talk to you,” he murmurs.

You nod and wave goodbye at Geto and Gojo as Nanami drags you off of the dance floor. He leads you over to the wall where he was before. When you look up at him, all smiles and twinkly brown eyes, he nearly goes feral and fucks you right there. What the hell is going on with him? He presses a hand to his head that has begun to pound like the bass of the music playing overhead.

“Hey, Kenny, baby,” you giggle. “The guys want me to dance with them. They’re playing ‘Thriller’!” Your smile suddenly fades, replaced with a frown as your expression turns to one of concern. “Hey…Kenny, what’s wrong? Is it your head?”

“Uh…” Nanami winces, the throbbing in his brain growing. He also feels extremely hot, like the party is too much and too stuffy all of the sudden. “I-I’m sorry, doll, but I think we should leave. My head is hurting.”

Your cute face etches with concern, your eyebrows drawn together. “Oh, you poor thing,” you coo, gently stroking his back. “Is it the beer? Did you have any water? Maybe you need some food! Here, I’ll go get you an eyeball cake pop!” You turn to head to the snack table, but he abruptly stops you by placing a hand on your arm.

“No, no,” he abruptly says. “Just….stay here. With me.” He pulls you toward him, smushing you against his body. He sighs breathing in your sweet, intoxicating perfume and fruity shampoo. He already feels better feeling you in his arms, blocked from the prying eyes of the men lurking in the shadows.

He feels your soft, small hands on him, feeling him up. Feeling your hands on him only makes his cock harder, pushing against the fabric of his slacks. “Kento,” you whisper, pulling away to gape at him. “Baby, you’re burning up! Are you sure you’re okay?”

He falls into the brown sugar depths of your eyes, pulled in by how pretty and worried they look. He doesn’t know how to answer you without possibly giving away his secret. Without admitting that he’s been lying to you about what he truly is. “I…I don’t—“

“Y/N!” A familiar voice suddenly shouts. Your turn, grinning at Habibara walking into the scene wearing a Woody costume, boots and all. Behind him is Higuruma in a simple suit splattered with blood which could either be a ‘Pulp Fiction’ or ‘American Psycho’ reference. Haibara’s eyes become comically wide at the sight of you. “Damn, girl, aren’t you the cutest vampire ever! Look at you! You look amazing!” He wraps his arms around you and picks you up, spinning you around and around. Nanami seethes at the sight of it.

When his friend puts you down, you look joyful and absolutely radiant. “Thanks, Haibara,” you giggle. “Oh, you brought Higuruma out! You two look amazing!” The lawyer sighs, looking like he wants to be somewhere other than here. “I don’t know why I’m here,” he sighs. “I’d much rather be at home.” Nanami silently agrees,

Haibara laughs, wrapping an arm around the lawyer's neck. “Well, maybe a look at this darlin’ will change that attitude,” he chuckles. “Just look at her! Ain’t Nanami’s girl so pretty?” He grins at you while Higuruma takes one look at you and blushes. He fucking blushes! Nanami has never seen this man even crack a smile.

You’re just too powerful with your bimbo self. Your sweetness and cuteness are forces that cannot be fought with or against. You can make even the most uptight of men blush and fall to their knees just as Nanami almost did the first time he met you.

While any other man may be fine and even happy with the fact that other men desire their women, Nanami is different.

Very different. Just the idea of any man looking at you is enough to make him snap. Despite half of the men at this party being his friends, colleagues, or mentees, he sees them as enemies tonight. He wants nothing more than to steal you away, lock you up, and never let you out again.

But maybe he doesn’t have to do that.

Maybe all he has to do is rip your corset open to reveal those gorgeous tits and pretty, brown nipples and mark them up with red and purple hickeys to show everyone that you’re his.

Maybe he can just bend you over the nearest piece of furniture, lift up that tiny skirt, and spank that ass of yours until he sees handprints.

Maybe he can even flash these horn dogs that dripping pussy of yours, stuff his fingers inside and make you cum the only way he knows how.

Maybe he can simply sit you down with him and bounce you on his cock for everyone to witness, stare into the eyes of every man who has ogled you tonight and think, ‘Yeah, look at this shit. This is mine. Only I can fuck her like this.’

He can dig his nails into the soft flesh of your ass. Wrap a hand around your throat. Shove his tongue down your throat. All while your velvety walls squeeze around him as you finally hit your climax and you milk him so much that he busts a fat load in your—

“Nanami?” Your soft voice is laced with worry. He blinks, finding you, Haibara, and Higuruma staring at him. “Are you okay, baby?” You ask, concerned. “Your eyes look kinda…weird.”

“Yeah, man,” Haibara adds, squinting curiously at his friend. “They look all red. I didn’t know you smoked!”

Red? Immediately, Nanami’s nerves become frazzled when everything starts to make sense. The murderous thoughts. His headache. And now, his aching teeth. He turns to the window and sure enough, there is a big, fat, white full moon glowing in the sky. ‘Oh, no,’ he thinks. No, not now! How could he forget tonight is a full moon?! He thought he was more careful. More prepared.

Immediately, he takes your hand and snatches you away without another word. “Let’s go,” he growls. You gasp, following after him on quick feet. “Where are we going?!” You yell over the music. He turns to you, doing his best to keep his hormones in check. “Somewhere more private. Upstairs.”

He zooms up the steps with you, nearly knocking over other partiers in the process. “Don’t fuck up my sheets!” Gojo yells after you and Nanami. “I’ve got condoms in my nightstand if you need ‘em, Nanami!”

Nanami ignores the childish cheering as he ascends up the steps with you in tow. He finds an empty bedroom and yanks you inside, shutting the door behind you. The room is spacious and clean with a king-sized bed, a window overlooking the moon, and a mirror hanging above the bed on the ceiling. ‘Fuckin’ freaks,’ Nanami thinks. He knows that this is Gojo and Geto’s bedroom.

“Kento!” You gasp, panting from the speed walk up here. “What’s going on? We’re gonna miss the party!” Nanami turns to you, putting his big hands on your shoulders. He winches, feeling his nails aching to stretch into sharp claws. “We need to leave, Y/N,” he growls out. “Right now.”

‘Or something really bad is about to happen,’ he thinks.

You blink those pretty, long lashes at him, perplexed. “But they didn’t even cut the pumpkin cake,” you pout. “Don’t you want some cake, Nanami?” God, does he. Nanami has never wanted to fuck you more than now. He lowers his head to stare at the floor, unable to take your cuteness. “God, you’re so fuckin’ cute,” he huffs. “Why the hell must you be so fuckin’ cute?”

You stand there, still as a statue, confused at what’s happening to your boyfriend. He doesn’t blame you. He has never behaved in such a manner before…or not in front of you, at least. He knows he can’t keep this from you.

“I must confess, darling,” he sighs, gripping your hands in his. “I don’t like the way those guys look at you. Gojo, Habibara, all of them. I don’t even know why you had to wear…that.” His eyes glaze over your sexy costume, his cock growing harder.

Your eyes grow big and soft, disappointment in them. “You don’t like my costume?” You softly ask. Immediately, he feels guilt pang in his chest. “No, no, I love it, baby. That’s the problem—others love it too. And some of those guys down there aren’t as nice as others.”

‘Like me. They won’t treat you like I will—like a fucking princess.’

You tilt your head to the side like a puppy. “What do you mean?” You ask. The ache in his teeth has grown increasingly and he winces in pain. You notice and go to touch him, but he stops you by kissing your hand. “Some of those men wanna fuck you,” he hisses, and your eyes widen at the dirty word falling from his lips. “They wanna take you from me when you’re my girl. My baby. You’re mine.”

Your pretty face becomes etched in worry and slight fear. This isn’t your boyfriend. Your sweet, respectful Nanami. This is…someone else. “N-Nanami?” You stammer.

He releases your hands and places his own on your hips. You watch in awe as he sinks to his knees as if in complete and total anguish…and he is. Your beauty is almost painful as it is to hold back the power of the full moon. ”You’re all mine,” he repeats. “And I need to show everyone that. I need to make sure they know that you’re taken.”

He looks up into your eyes and finds nothing but fear in them. “Nanami!” You gasp, pressing yourself against the door. “Your teeth!”

Nanami slides his tongue along his upper row of teeth where, sure enough, he feels two sharpened points. “Shit,” he sighs. “I’m sorry, baby. It wasn’t my intention to tell you like this.” You’re still pressed against the wall, looking like a terrified bunny. He feels his heart shatter at the sight. “Tell me what?” You whimper. “Kento, you’re scaring me.”

Nanami continues to sit on his knees, keeping a distance from you to not alarm you any further. “Don’t be scared, baby,” he coos, holding your fearful eyes with his. “I’ll never ever hurt you, but there is something about me that I haven’t told you.”

The moonlight shines brighter into the room, illuminating your brown skin and glassy eyes. “What is it?” You whisper, but he knows you know the answer. When the moonlight hits him, he feels its warmth and its power as he is washed in its silvery light. His headache dissolves as his fangs and claws grow and his eyes grow a crimson red like the purest blood. “This,” he softly growls. “This is what I am. I can’t help it, baby. It’s a full moon unfortunately.”

He watches as your eyes grow wide as saucers and your plump, glossy lips form an O. “O-Oh, my God,” you gasp. “Y-You’re a…a…” You don’t finish, but he already knows what you’re about to say. A vampire.

You must’ve had a hunch something was different about your boyfriend, didn’t you? How he barely comes out in the daytime unless to see you. The fact that he keeps his curtains drawn, telling you before that sunlight weakens his eyesight. The fact that he eats his steaks very rare.

The signs have been there all along and he’s sure you’re realizing it now. He stands and grasps your arms, desperation taking over. “I won’t hurt you, but I need to show you that you’re mine,” he says, a rasp of need in his voice. “I must claim you.”

He feels your body relax under his touch which gives him the green light to kiss you. He slowly leans in, giving you the chance to pull away or tell him to stop…but you don’t. Instead, you tilt your chin up to meet his lips in a hot, slow, passionate kiss that sweeps you off of your feet and draws the softest moans out of you.

Nanami immediately grows feral at the sound, feel, and smell of you. You’re so sweet. So soft. So small. So adorable. And so completely his. He presses himself against you, giving you a feel of his hard-on as his tongue swirls with yours in a wet dance. When he pulls away, you gasp as he begins to pepper your neck in open-mouthed kisses. “N-Nanami,” you whimper, gripping his shoulders. “The party—“

“Fuck the party,” he growls, licking at your throat. “All that matters right now is you and me.” He focuses on that spot behind your ear that you like, relishing the squeaky moan you let out and how you press your tits into his groping hands. “Invite me in, darling,” he pleads. “Tell me you want me to.”

His cock presses against his slacks, urging him to rip them off and stuff you full now. Luckily, you’re on the same time and wrap your leg around his waist to bring him closer. “Nanami,” you moan. “Oh, Nanami, yes!”

Nanami wedges his knee between your thighs where he urges you to grind your cunt against his thigh. “Tell me you want me,” he repeats. “Let me in, baby.” His cock aches intensely, but he ignores it. He can’t do this without your permission. He won’t–

“Yes!” You whine, gripping him for dear life. “Yes, Ken, take me! I want this so badly!” Nanami doesn’t even have to read your mind to know that you mean it. He can hear the desperation in your voice.

Minutes later, while the party rages on downstairs, Nanami fulfills both of your needs when has you bent over the side of Gojo and Geto’s bed and his big, thick, long cock filling up every inch of your wet pussy over and over again. Your gorgeous tits sway out of your corset and your beautiful ass bounces off of his pelvis the more he fucks you, his hands gripping each asscheek where his sharp nails nearly dig into your skin. Your mini skirt, panties, and boots forgotten on the floor along with his clothes, leaving you only in your corset.

Meanwhile, Nanami is completely naked, his chest and neck coated in your lipstick stains and his cock hard inside of you from your constant and heavenly sucking and gagging on it earlier. He only grows harder and more feral at the sweet sound of your sugary, high-pitched moans as he fucks you at a pace he never has before.

With the moon high in the sky, Nanami’s powers are at their peak. He now has superspeed which allows him to fuck you at damn near the speed of light, causing the bed to scoot across the floor and the sound of skin slapping against skin to drift in the air.

He leans down to nibble at your ear with his fangs, fanning your face in mint-scented breath. “How’s this, my love?” He growls into your ear. “Is this good enough for my baby, hm?” He moves his hands to cup your tits, keeping them safe in his big palms. You’re losing your ever-loving mind at this point. His dick is too good. His stroke game is immaculate. All of your senses are heightened with him, as his are with you. You love sex with a vampire! “F-Fuck, Nanami, yes!” You moan. “You feel s-so good! Keep going! Don’t stop!”

He presses his nose into your hair, breathing in coconut and mango. “Never,” he groans. “But you need to keep makin’ those noises for me, okay, my love? Give me that voice.”

He slows down and begins to give you slow, deep strokes that rock you to your core. “B-But…oh, shit!…but they’ll hear us!” You whine. “Oh, fuck yes!” Poor baby. You can’t even get the rest of your sentence out because you’re getting fucked too god.

“I don’t give a fuck,” he growls. “Those guys can listen and jerk off for all I care. I want ‘em all to hear you gettin’ dicked down just like you should.” He’ll show all of those guys who had their eyes on you…even the ones who didn’t. He pictures them all standing around watching him now, cocks hard at the sight of you getting pounded by him. ‘This is how you fuck a woman,’ he’d tell them. ‘This is how you take what’s yours.’

Power fills his veins like heroin and he straightens up to grip your ass. “Tell me how you want it, baby,” he whispers. “You want it like this?” He pumps his hips a little faster, making your ass bounce and your moans grow loud. “Nanami,” you whimper. “T-Too…ah! Too m-much! I-I can’t…can’t!”

He chortles at how adorable you are, stroking your back with his hand. “Can’t what, darling?” He chuckles. “You can’t take all of that cock?” You nod faster than a bobblehead even as his cock keeps filling you again and again. He tuts. “Oh, but you’re wrong. You’re doin’ it so well right now. Actually…”

Slowly, he pulls his cock, slick with your juices, out of you and slaps it against your clit a few times before giving your ass a smack. “On your back, you little vixen.” Your giggles are aphrodisiacs to him as you do as you’re told. “Yes, sir,” you giggle.

You get on your back on the bed and he settles between your thigh, snatching you closer by your ankles. He can tell you’re turned on by his show of strength which isn’t just caused by his vampire powers. He stares deep into your eyes, crimson staring into brown. “I want you to watch yourself take my cock,” he demands. “Think you can do that for me, pretty girl?”

Frantically, you nod, needing more of him. You open your mouth to verbalize that need, but your words turn into a moan as his cock sinks back inside of you. Hiking your knees over his shoulder, he begins to pump his hips forward and back at a fast pace that makes you see the entire fucking galaxy as your fingers play with your clit in an effort to heighten your pleasure.

“Look up,” he demands. You do and grow entranced by the sight of you taking his cock, your legs and pussy spread open by him. But all you see is yourself spread out like a dessert plate reflected in the mirror above. Nanami is nowhere to be found in the mirror. Vampires have no reflection. You’ve never been more turned on in your life seeing your pretty self get fucked like this.

The bedsprings creak and your moans mingle with each other, creating a symphony of sex in the air as the music from the party drifts up from downstairs. Watching your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth fall open on each gasp, whine, and pretty moan is a sight to behold. “Oh, my God, fuck!” You babble. “Yes, Kento, yes! I-I’m so close! I’m gonna—“

Knock, knock.

“Uh…Nanami?” Ino asks.

Your eyes pop open like a cartoon’s and you terrifyingly stare up at Nanami. “Goddammit,” he growls, slowing down to a slower tempo. He presses a finger to his lips to silence you and clears his throat. “What is it?” He barks, unable to hide his irritation. “I’m kinda busy at the moment.”

Ino’s laughter is unmistakable even behind the door. “Oh, we know,” he chuckles. “I’m damn near jealous! Gojo just wanted me to tell you that we’re cuttin’ the cake if you and your girl wants some.”

Your ushy, gushy, velvety pussy clenches around Nanami, milking the cum out of him. “Just wrap it up,” he says, biting back a groan. “I need to finish this first.” He wraps a hand around your throat because he knows that gets you closer, squeezing his fingers around your pretty neck. “Don’t let me stop you,” Ino snorts. “I’ll save you some…oh, and make sure she’s extra loud. Might as well hear her cum.”

Nanami smirks, surprisingly liking that naughty idea. “Will do,” he grunts and proceeds to pound you into the mattress until you’re seeing stars again. Your moans are loud, much to Ino’s liking, as you get closer and closer to your end. Nanami is there too. “Darling,” he rasps, “I’m close. I’m gonna have to bite you soon.”

He can feel his jaw aching, his fangs growing sharper in anticipation of your sweet blood. Your brown eyes grow round with worry. “W-Will it hurt?” You whimper. You look oh-so scared that he nearly melts. “Just a pinch, but I’ll only do it when you finally climax. It’ll make your orgasm more intense…put you in a euphoric state.”

He knows from his own experiences of one-night stands when he was at his most desperate and starved for blood. He is dying to see you in the same dazed, sexy, euphoric state that his one nights were in once they came as he sunk his teeth into their necks. “Is that okay?” He asks, concerned with your comfortability. “I could always just—“

“No!” You cry out, your glossy lips wobbling and your eyes filling with tears from the intense pleasure. “It’s okay, Nanami. I trust you.” Your eyes grow hooded and lustful as you lean your head back on the pillow, exposing your neck and smooth skin to him. “Bite me, sir. I’m all yours.”

Nanami nearly bursts right there. “Oh, baby,” he groans. “You’re gonna make me cum.” He ruts into harder, faster, urging your hand to rub yourself in time with his thrusts. “Cum for me,” you beg through pants. “Please cum with me, Kenny! I’m so close!”

He leans down to tongue-kiss you, swapping saliva and moans as he fucks you over and over and over again. He then pulls away to stare down at you, falling deep into the chocolate pools of your eyes. “Look into my eyes, baby,” he whispers. “Cum with me.”

He knows that the hypnosis has kicked in when your expression softens and your eyes grow glazed as you stare up at him. It only takes a few more thrusts for you to finally reach your peak. With a high-pitched moan, you finally gush all around Nanami’s cock, your walls clenching around him tighter than a vice.

As you cum, Nanami swoops down to tongue down once he feels himself cumming too. He vigorously thrusts into you, chasing his high until he lets out a groan as he shoots his load inside of you, filling you up to the brim with his warm cum. You gasp into the sloppy kiss, filling absolutely full.

Nanami feels himself losing control, all grips on his humanity leaving him. “Give me your neck,” he growls, his voice dipping so low that he barely sounds like himself. Without a confirmation or the green light, he swoops down to sink his teeth into your soft, brown flesh.

A weak moan leaves your lips as you flinch from the pain, but then your body begins to writhe in pleasure as his bite takes you to a pleasurable, almost euphoric place. You arch your back and press yourself into him, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him closer.

Nanami sucks your blood like a parched man in the desert, your sweet blood coating his teeth, tongue and lips. He can feel your energy and life force enter him, making him feel like he can touch the fucking moon. He grows addicted with each slurp, your blood drugging him. “K-Kento!” you gasp. “O-Oh!”

He is aware that he’s been sucking for too long and you start to feel uncomfortable. “Just a little more,” he grunts. “Just a little bit more, baby.” His tongue bathes the bite marks in saliva that numbs the sting and makes your pulse stop jumping.

Once he finally finishes, he pulls away and licks the rest of your blood off of his lips. You lay beneath him, panting and dazed. “You okay?” He worriedly asks. “Was it too much?”

you shake your head, still looking as if you just did too many drugs and you’re crashing. “No, m’just…dizzy,” you mutter.

Quickly, Nanami springs into action. He tells you to lay there before jumping off of the bed and racing to the bathroom…butt naked. He doesn’t give a fuck if anyone sees him. His priority is YOU.

Luckily, no one does and he returns with aftercare essentials: a glass of water, a towel soaked in warm water, and body oil. He doesn’t want to know why Gojo and Geto have that. When he returns, he finds you halfway asleep and nearly laughs. ‘Poor baby,’ he thinks. He tuckered you out.

“Drink slow,” Nanami says, pressing the glass to your lips. You lean up and slowly sip the water, humming in appreciation. Once you’ve had enough, he sets the drink side and wipes you down before rubbing some oil between his palms.

He then proceeds to massage your body, paying close attention to your hips and legs. You melt beneath his calloused hands, your smile lopsided and lazy. Once he finishes with that, he lays next to you and scoops you into him, making you the little spoon. “That’s it, darling, just relax. You did so, so well for me.” He presses a soft kiss to your cheek, gently stroking your back.

“Good,” you happily sigh. “I’m happy.” You pop your head up to look up at him, smiling. “Now let’s snuggle before we go get that cake!”

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. How could he be blessed with such a wonderful gift such as you? “Thank you for accepting me, darling,” he whispers. “I couldn’t ask for a better girlfriend.”

He nuzzles into your sweet-smelling hair, making you giggle. “And I couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend,” you happily sigh, wrapping your arms around him. “You’re so sweet and sexy and—wait, is this gonna turn me into a vampire too?!”

You sit up straight and look at him wide-eyed, terror in your eyes. He nearly laughs. You’re like a little cartoon character. “No, darling,” he chuckles, easing your fear. “All I did was suck your blood. I’d never turn you without your permission.” Though the idea of spending eternity as vampires with you doesn’t sound too bad.

“Oh…well, that’s a relief!” You sigh, lying back down with him and proceeding to snuggle him in Gojo and Geto’s bed. “Though I would make a cute little vampire, wouldn’t I?”

“Yes,” he laughs. “Yes, you would. But you’d be cute in any form, my darling.”

THE END.

[metalotaku-da]

danny phantom x dc prompt ideas: weather wizard addition.

this comes to you thanks to my big story pieces comment section. i think if the phandom knew more of this characters background and i thought it was more commonly known. it would have more of a field day. same with gotham academy >.> but that is for another post.

alright weather wizard, is a flash villain and a member of the rogues.

mark mardon. is a thief and criminal who escapes from prison and fleas to his brothers house. where he believes he found his brother dead and his weather experiments. including the weather wand which he takes and starts his alias crime as weather wizard. it is hinted at in the comics he actually killed his brother and stole his work. it is believed he had a confrontation with his brother over his prison break, the argument and heightened emotions triggered mark's meta gene and he accidently killed his brother when his powers manifested. and he blocked out that memory. and it is also why he can't use his weather powers without the wand. as a mental block. because he does have powers without the wand.

later on he finds out he has a son with a cop he had relations with. it is known josh is his son because he has weather powers. mark in a fit of rage and jealousy over the his son's powers kidnaps him, with plans to DISSECT AND EXPERIMENT ON HIM TO FIND OUT HOW HIS POWERS WORK SO HE CAN GET THEM. he has a break down though over it before he can go through with it. and wishes his son had someone besides him as a father, because he deserves someone better.

other facts of note: josh was thought to be wally's kid till he got his powers. lady cop has batman's taste. her name is julie.

the rogues have strict rules against hurting kids.

weather wizard killed impulse breaking this rule. though he was tricked.

so yes phandom. here are some options i've brain stormed. please add more ideas for others to knaw on.

1: danny has escaped the fentons/and or giw. flees to central city and weather wizard finds this vivisected terrified kid. and man does it hit his guilt and crazy. this could have been his son. he was going to do this to his child. and it's his redemption/penance to protect this child to make up for his sins. could have a mental break and think he actually did this danny and danny is his son josh too. so many ways to go.

2: other rogues find him, after hearing about ww kidnapping his son and think danny is his son who escaped from his injuries and go on revenge spree for this kid in mistaken idenity. which has funny and dark ways it can go.

3: danny meets ww or his son. and hears how ww couldn't go through with it. maybe from young justice. impulse or members of the league, other rogues dealers choice. danny just dieing a little on the inside like, how come your parent could stop himself with love when he never met you, but my parents raised me and still didn't love me enough not to. the angst protentional here is so high.

4: jazz could work at the facility treating mark. her point of view from treating a person who is so much like her parents but who showed their love for their child in the end. when hers couldn't move past their goals and see their child they claimed to love. could add in she's got a de-aged danny/dannies because of it. to see what it could have been if her parents had been better. stronger. she could get feelings. (totally thinking on par with harley/joker kind of but not that dark.) where mark actually like her and cares for her. could be one-sided. and the giw find them mark breaks out cause she and or kids are in danger and saves them.

5:mix and match the above.

please add more

[jamiepaige]

Constant Companions Closeup #2: NOT QUITE THERE

(also on spotify!)

b-b-back once again

Round two of the Constant Companions Closeups - a series of in-depth dives into the songs off of my latest album, Constant Companions! Yesterday was track one, Dyad - today is track two, Not Quite There, featuring the incomparable telebasher!

This one's a bit of a dark horse relative to the rest of the album, but it may very well be my personal favorite song on the entire thing so dammit let's Yap

---

For the uninitiated, this song pulls heavily from a song off my previous album called Gummyworm, both in vibe and by very directly quoting its synth motif.

Both of these songs deal with two sides of the same emotional coin. I actually don't want to go into too much detail about it - I feel like the lyrics spell things out clearly enough - but I will say this:

When it's all you know, it's easy to believe that a love that isolates you, a love that doesn't respect you, a love that hurts is better than no love at all.

You deserve better. There are always people who genuinely want what's best for you, who want you to feel truly loved. It certainly isn't always easy - it's genuinely good if your interpersonal relationships have a little friction sometimes - but love should make your life brighter.

You deserve a love that's fair.

---

The original version of this song was actually intended to be on Bittersweet alongside Gummyworm. The original concept for that album had a whole heady concept involving duality, songs reflecting each other, the two halves basically being reprisals of each other... Ultimately, I'm glad I scrapped that idea, because it was waaaaaay too much for me to manage after a couple years of barely making music. Maybe I'll revisit it someday though?

The drums on this song are sampled from an Instagram post by Louis Cole, where he's doing this crazy one-handed hi-hat blast by holding a drumstick sideways. I'm a drummer and that shit genuinely scares me a little like i dont know how he does half the things he does its fucked BUT. I bring this up because he's one of my biggest inspirations as a musician! I'm really big on jazz in general, in case my love for spicy chords wasn't enough of an indication, but his specific brand of freaky hyperactive bullshit just does it for me.

Seriously, go watch his band KNOWER play their song Overtime. Absolutely insane performances across the board. also Clown Core

This whole song is really just my attempt at matching some of that hectic jazzy energy with my own style of music, so I figured it only made sense to make it another collab with another musician making delightfully frantic jazz bullshit - the legend herself, telebasher! I really am such a massive fan of her work, and I struggle to think of anyone who plays guitar quite like she does. We previously worked together on another Bittersweet track, Asemic Speech, and her guitar work is a major reason why that song is still one of my favorite I've ever released!! She's just built different like listen to this oh my god!!!!

Lastly, since this song was one of the first written for this entire project... it is admittedly a case of me shoehorning the album's leitmotif in after the fact. It's a little forced when it shows up in the backing vocals! But, the choir of vocal synths during the guitar solo served an additional purpose - my own voice doesn't show up on the album again for another four entire songs, and this would've otherwise been the only song on the entire album that didn't feature any vocal synths. Thus did I attempt to bridge the gap, as it were. Hopefully it makes the final product feel more natural!!

Either way, that's all for today's post.... i think.... which means that tomorrow.... we're gonna rot.... for clout

[rapplesart]

Ok but like hear me out .

One of the dc crossover fanfics where Bruce adopts a kid (Danny phantom or Peter Parker iykyk) but instead of you know the bats finding them on the streets or having a whole hero cants and mouse thing or Barbara seeing them in the library they just go to the Wayne’s doorstep asking for money after being broke and having the idea in a half drunken state or joking about it .

Like for example Danny after being chased away from amity park and escaping his parents sits on the rooftop and talks with a gargoyles named Gary

„Yeah anyway that’s how I got here Gary, no clue what imma do know“ he says between another bite of pizza „like I’m pretty fucking broke and yeah maybe buying Pizza wasn’t the best investment in my situation but I was hungry I think I deserve a treat after all that .“

Gary stays silent as the two of them look over the city . Sirens echo in the distance, a few roofs in front of the, a black shadow appears between the gaps of the buildings, disappearing into the shadow just as fast as it appeared. Must be one of the bats Danny thinks .

He sets the piece of pizza back down into the carton in order to take a swig of the wine he stole from Vlads gift basket before his great escape. The man puts puts them on the counter for Mandy to find on a weekly basis now as part of his latest attempt to woo the woman. Jack adored the baskets when they first appeared, exited to have his best friend care about him and his wife.

Danny didn’t really plan on drinking it, he just brought it because it was the closest thing to grab. It was there so he took it . Now, sitting on the rooftop realising how fucked he truly was he decided he might as well be drunk for this too.

„And it’s not like any safe and sane workplace will take a random kid without paperwork. I probably need to do something illegal to go by now , Jazz would be so disappointed „ another swig from the wine .

It was fruity and dry and scratched his throat and Danny honestly didn’t enjoy the feeling but it made his wine just a little bit fizzier than before and it helped in a strange way.

Gary remained silent .

„sure there are a lot of Wayne foundations in Gotham that give out stuff , I did my research once I arrived after all, but they’d call cps and cps would either give me back to my parents or just straight up hand me over to the government so that is not an option „

Another bite of pizza . It was delicious a stark contrast to the wine

„It’s not like I can just go to Bruce Wayne and be like ‚yo got some money?‘ the guy would probably think I’m robbing him and call the cops and yeah, you get the gist of it Gary“

Another few beats of silence .

„But the dude is like crazy rich right? And he has his name on all of these foundations , and people say he’s an airhead so maybe I can just go to his house or something and ask for a donation. I mean it would be for a good cause , feeding a hungry homeless teenager is a good cause isn’t it ?“

„Yeah sounds like a pretty good cause Danny“ Damny answered himself as Gary by lowering his voice . The way one might get more into his head than he thought .

„You know what , I think imma just do this. Let’s just ask the rich guy for money he probably won’t even notice that he’s being scammed and if he does he probably has enough money nöt to care „

[anon-e-miss]

A Tough of Sight - 12

“How ‘bout we go for a walk?” Jazz asked.

“A walk?” Prowl asked, flinching as he did. Though his doorwings were healing, they still had a considerable ways to go. He remained blind, wholly blind and completely off balance.

“I’ll be yer optics,” Jazz assured him. “Don’t seem like a good idea to me for ya to be shut in here ‘til yer doors finish healin’. Ya need fresh air.”

“I suppose,” Prowl replied. “I might trouble mechanisms.”

“No one’s stupid ‘nough to give ya a hard time while ‘m wit ya,” Jazz said.

“I am a little restless,” Prowl confessed. “I think Smokescreen would like to explore more but he is afraid to leave me for long.”

“When he ‘n Blue are done class, we can go for another walk,” Jazz offered.

Jazz took Prowl’s in his and helped him to stand. He wrapped his arm around Prowl’s arm and held his servo. It was almost romantic. Prowl flushed at the thought. Just the last dark-cycle, Jazz had kissed him as he said good dark-cycle. Punch had given Bluestreak and Smokescreen pecks on the cheek and Bluestreak had immediately wanted one from everyone and then for everyone to get one. When Jazz had come to give him a peck, Prowl had turned his helm and they had... kissed. Jazz had whispered an apology and Prowl had whispered back: I am not. What about him attracted Jazz, Prowl could not say but he could not deny it was mutual. It was more than a little crazy; it was utter madness but Prowl was drawn in anyways. He had never been courted, not even in secret. Deformed as he was now, Prowl real did not know what it was that Jazz found enticing.

“I thought we’d go to the carton,” Jazz said. “The smells o’ the crystals might help ya feel better.”

“I think I do like that idea,” Prowl replied. Even though he could not see it, Prowl knew Jazz was smiling.

He would have thought they would be expected to attend worship while being hosted in the Cornerstone temple but Prima-tur had come and gone and Jazz and Punch had spent the mega-cycle with them. Of course, Prowl remembered Jazz saying that Punch had no use for temples but he used Prima-tur normally to work on his wears but he had spent it with them instead. Punch had brought gifts. Bluestreak’s precious plushie had survived the fire, clutched against his chassis as Jazz had carried him and Smokescreen to safety but Punch had decreed it deserved a friend and he had also declared Smokescreen not too old himself for something soft to snuggle. He had given them blankets, softer by far than the ones the priests used. He had instead Prowl deserved the softest he could make after all he had endured. Prowl felt a little like an awkward youngling under the fawning but Punch was sincere and the Praxian court and all its archaic ways had been razed from the planet. No one had any expectation that Prowl maintain a stiff and austere persona.

The scent of flowering crystals filled the air as Jazz led Prowl outside. He smiled as he clung to the Polyhexians arm as he blindly followed along. Prowl knew each scent and it gave him a sense of reassurance and peace. If somehow Prowl’s sensory grid was more severely scarred by the burns than Ratchet had anticipated, Prowl could still enjoy crystals by this sense alone. Nearby, the Cornerstone’s bells rang a song, marking the mid-cycle, and announcing a joor of rest for everyone living and working in Iacon. Every bell in every temple in Iacon rang out at this time, but only Cornerstones sung. They were different than the singing crystals of Praxus but still they sang and Prowl enjoyed listening to it. The crystals the ringers played were not the only ones single. Prowl sat, carefully, as the crystals blooming around him sang with them. Smiling, he reached out his servo and brushed his digits along the petals of a crystals whose song and scent rang out especially sweet. It faded, as the Cornerstone’s tower went silent but Prowl continued to smile.

“Do ya know what crystal y’re touchin’?” Jazz asked

“Taafeite,” Prowl replied. “It is a rare crystal. Depending on the angle, you look at it, the colour changes.”

“Ya have an incredible gift, ya know,” Jazz said.

“The garden and greenhouse were my retreat,” Prowl said. “I spent every moment I could among the crystals as I grew. Every chance I could escape my lessons, I did, Even when I was a mech grown, I preferred the company of crystals to other mechanism.”

It had not been mechanisms as a whole so much as the mechanisms of his procreators’ and then his brother’s court. As the court copied the whims of its emperor, first Windbreaker and then Nightstalker, mockery of Prowl had been a favoured habit of all around him from his earliest memory. First, he had emerged with the glitch and then stuttered for vorns. He was plump and ungainly at the same time as a youngling and he had never lost he plumpness or grown into his doorwings. His brother had been a perfectly eloquent beauty. It had mattered little that Nightstalker was as mentally twisted and cruel as he was beautiful. Discontented whispers had only begun when Iacon and the Crystal Empire had come in defence of Vos. The court had tried to suggest surrender when the rebellion had taken control of the outer edges of Praxian. They had been slaughtered before they could escape. Prowl put a great deal of blame on them for Praxus's fate and found it impossible to feel much sympathy. So many innocent mechanisms, their vassals to whom they had owed a duty had died in hellfire because they had humoured Nightstalker’s sadism.

Jazz did not pry for details. Being he was the Lord Inquisitor, a master of secrets, it was a little surprising he did not pry. Prowl knew he had not pestered Smokescreen when Prowl had been unconscious, either or Smokescreen would have told him. Their shared past troubled Smokescreen perhaps even more than it did Prowl. He was haunted by the monster that had borne him. Time would help him forget, though the burns on Prowl’s face did not allow him to forget everything but time allowed for distance and distance was was Smokescreen needed. Perhaps realizing Prowl needed peace, Jazz retrieved a lyre from his subspace and he played for Prowl and the crystals. As he listened to the crystals sing in response, he identified the different crystals around them and where they were in their growth cycle. Prowl had not realized how anxious he had been feeling. Being out in the garden grounded him. Though he might have stayed out for joors, he was still healing and Jazz correctly noted that Prowl was tiring and needed rest. He still clung to Jazz’s arm as they walked back inside but it was at least in part because Prowl wanted to. There was a loud clattered of plating ahead. Jazz held his arm as they stopped where they were.

“Damn it,” a voice similar to Jazz’s cursed.

“My lord!” Prowl jerked back as he heard a familiar voice speak. “You’re alive!”

His help spun. Prowl swayed and Jazz held him steady. Prowl found himself slack jaw and it took a klik or two before he could speak. He stammered: “Ba…Barricade?”

[yayasvalveplay]

https://www.tumblr.com/yayasvalveplay/774783569177493504/but-now-that-is-out-of-the-way-all-they-see-is-a?source=share

Orion might be living the hentai protagonist life rn but internally he is going through the DEPRESSION TRENCHES

Not only does Orion miss Dee; his carrier coding is going crazy from being horny for his baby daddy, preparing for the sparkling–BUT ALSO Orion's also stressing over the truth of Sentinel/Quintessons/Cogs–with what the High Gaurd told him so he's very worried for Dee and the others. As he rests in the crashed quintessons ship, veil over him to prevent overheating a gift. Orion feels like he doesn't deserve to be treated so nicely since he left D.

Sure it was for their sparkling, now that the High Gaurd are teaching him about sparkling care but given what he's been told— he realizes he truly wouldn't be able to care for his baby, to know what to do without them — hence he feels horribly selfish.

He's gonna be a first time mom, it ain't easy for him even with the seekers' help 😭

Meanwhile for D-16, oh that sire coding HITS HARD, it was a little slow for him but when he finally learns what a sparkling is and what Orion left for. THE SIRE CODING OVERDRIVES AKA FERAL

D-16 gets territorial even; It doesn't take a genius for everyone; D doesn't like the new miner AT ALL, its only when at this point will D crash out which honestly better to crash out now that later ngl D-16 sneaking out more— no one dares mention it, he's becoming withdrawn. The miners really want to stop him– he keeps ignoring them or just gives small replies—so out of character for the mech who a stickler for protocol it lowkey scary; the closest ones who barely get enough even then who talk to him are Elita and Jazz.

He's depressed and pissed off; WAY MORE HORNY his sire coding is basically telling him that he only transfered once so HE NEEDS TO FIND HIS BABY MAMA RN, is maybe having a life crisis over protocols, information concealing, etc including what's really happening due to how can they just replace Orion like that so fast. Then the mining accident occurs with Jazz; how everyone was so quick to let him die, where Orion would've helped Jazz, how Elita-1 gets demoted by Darkwing. They simply didn't follow protocol, right? But with extra knowledge currently from the Archives, there surely could've been another way? Orion has his sparkling—Jazz was going to die– why deny aid?

How I imagine D-16 eventually ending up in sublevel 50, is that Dee eventually has his crash out moment which better now than later fr as he gets caught by the gaurds, outrunning really doesn't mean much when you really don't know the layout of the place like Pax would.

D-16 who's running on fumes, emotions a crisis and sire instincts do him in, the gaurds are just done with his shit so they throw him down.

That's where/when he meets B-127. The usual happens, the map is revealed via Steve death. D-16 really should've figured this out — had this been before Orion's disappearance, he wouldn't even entertain the idea. But... it's a start.

I was not expecting to wake up to a wall of text this morning.

But yessss Orion may be living like a queen, gifts to help out with the sparkling arrival. But he's missing Dee, he's missing his baby daddy and wants his transfluids badly, but by the time the sparkling emerges Dee's transfluids have been gone for a while.

In Iacon Dee's sire protocols slap him in the face our of no where, and now he can't really control what he does or say. He knows he's acting feral, more scary to the other bots. Yes he's sort-of ok being near Elita and Jazz. But even then they can push him to a breaking point.

Yes he's also sneaking out more, putting more pieces to the puzzle. Finding out gestation takes a full year to complete.

How long has Orion been pregnant for, has he missed the birth of his sparkling? Will his baby grow up not knowing who he is because Orion refuses to come back!?

D-16 is desperate and wants to find him so badly.

It's how he gets caught. He was so far deep he couldn't stop himself. Now he's on a train grabbing for Elita as they climb up and up, then out, looking at the first sunrise of their planets surface.

I say by this point the baby is born. And for tf baby's it only takes about 2 weeks for them to go to full adults. So by the time this all happens baby Tronus I'd ready to go on his first expedition.

Funny how his first expedition he meets his true sire.

[lazerswordweilder]

I wanna see Danny absolutely insane. Not like. We got too silly insane. Like, pushed past his breaking point, desperately trying to hold on, for the fifth time this week, and it’s Monday.

I wanna see him smile when Dash shoves him into his locker, because he’s not sure what to do. On one hand he’s so done with this, and he knows he could end Dash in a fraction of a second. On the other hand, it was almost reassuring, nostalgic, he remembers when this used to hurt.

I wanna see ghosts and humans alike, go to hurt or bother Danny Fenton Phantom. And have them stop when he turns around, because the look in his eyes is not something they understand nor want to mess with. Lancer saw a weight he thought only characters in books could possibly have to carry, Paulina saw tears and when has anyone ever seen him cry, Vlad saw exhaustion that cuts into your very core but you have to keep going because that’s what’s expected of you, Ember saw grief and pain over something that never happened but could’ve been, Dash saw pain a hundred times worse than anything he’s ever felt, Jazz saw protectiveness of a kingdom who hates him, Wes swears he looked insane.

And Danny? Danny is done with their shit. And he doesn’t swear. He’s so tired of everything, he’s so close to giving up, he is very much not feeling phantastic right now. He’s got more scar tissue than skin, he’s pretty sure everything he owns has at least a little of his blood on it by now, he’s forgotten what feeling okay is like, and he can’t even begin to describe everything else, and he means everything. He’s got half the mind to track down who ever said death was peaceful and make them deal with his life. But he’s a hero. Right?

He knows he’s got duties, the Realms needs a king, Amity needs a protector (both the humans and the ghosts), Danny Fenton needs to go to school. Oh and he’s pretty sure Frostbite is having a panic attack after looking at him which is ridiculous. But still, the stars seem real inviting right now, he wonders if Clockwork would turn back time for him and just let him sleep on the moon for 200 or so years. Probably not. (Clockwork absolutely would’ve). He might just do it anyways. It’s kind of ridiculous how much somethings just look like comfy beds to sleep in for a trillion years to him now, he fell asleep in a snow bank earlier which wasn’t nearly cold enough. But it’s kind of fair Danny supposes, he can’t remember the last time his home really felt like home, and Amity in general is his haunt, but eh, whatever.

Still though, having your enemy worried for you is really something. Like Vlad should comment, Vlad’s the source of a small fraction of his problems! Which is a lot! First of all having to worry about another source of constant attacks, having to try and convince his parents that Vlad is so clearly evil, having to check up on Dani and also make sure Vlad isn’t trying anything like that again, and not to mention the whole mayor of the town he lives in thing.

Okay this kind of got off track. But my point is, I want it to be too much, instead of somehow managing to survive it all and getting help, Danny gets pushed off the edge (and can’t get out) and he just goes crazy, he breaks down right in the middle of school over a minor inconvenience, laughing then sobbing then screaming then wailing for ancients knows how long. Then he flies off somewhere and continues to breakdown for a while, then he returns to his life like nothing happens, but it did.

That was it.

He can’t be pulled back now. You had your chance. You all had so many chances. And now he’s lost it for good. And you all deserve it.

He’s not going to apologise for punching Dash through a wall, he’s not going to apologise for whatever he did in that little blacked out period of time, he’s not going to apologise for taking a nap in the observatory and hissing and attacking all the tourists and everyone else, he’s not going to apologise for dissecting his parents, he’s not going to apologise for making Vlad regret it, he’s not going to apologise for making the ghost writer eat a book, he’s not going to apologise at all.

You let him get like this. He doesn’t want to shift the blame. But what was he supposed to do? No. Oh no. Don’t try to explain. This is all your fault. And he’s tired of pretending he’s fine. And he’s tired of helping. Because you lost that a while back.

You all don’t even know how dead you are to him, he had a little regret when it came to Sam and Tucker and Jazz, and that’s why they’re alive right now. Because they did all they could, well, not all they could, but that was because he asked them not to tell. Maybe he shouldn’t off.

-

All hail the high king Danny Fenton Phantom. The king who never stopped crying.

[mychlapci]

Coworker hypnosis, like, office wife au Blurr always resented being the one go get the energon for everyone until it gave him the express privilege of slipping Sentinel his aphrodisiacs once or twice a day. Once the medics handed off the powder and the tech crew tweaked the datapad’s hypnosis it was go time. And Blurr can’t deny the warm feeling of arousal pooling in his gut watching Sentinel drink it down. The hypnopad has been preparing him all morning, telling him he loves his morning energon. That it’s the same as always, that there’s no difference in texture or flavor. That a little moan when swallowing something nice is normal. Blurr’s a little disappointed that there’s no immediate results, but they all knew it was meant to be a subtle build up. That Sentinel needed gentle guidance to be what he was meant to be.

Seemingly picking up on his disappointment, Sentinel gives him a little smile. Glossy lips parting in a thank you as he rises to stroke Blurr’s arm. And then Blurr’s slamming the no on his HUD to prevent his spike from pressurizing when Sentinel gives him a tiny little kiss on his cheekplate. And then laughs a little at how pink his face has turned. There’s still nothing visible by mid cycle, but Blurr brings everyone their energon again. Sentinel, having been deeply amused by Blurr’s earlier blushing and stammering, gives him another little kiss. This one brushes the corner of his mouth. The whole office is watching as he drinks his energon down with a tiny moan. Sentinel loves their optics on him. Their attention right where it was meant to be.

It takes almost two weeks for the aphrodisiacs to build up enough to see real results. That’s fine, since it pairs nicely with the hypnopad’s latest subliminals. Sentinel definitely notices how sensitive his plating has become, how warm he feels when the others stroke their thumbs against the small of his back while leading him around. Doing his work with his overlays on, not even noticing when he begins grinding ever so slightly in his seat. It’s good to let his coworkers touch him, it feels so nice. It’s right to be touched and to feel so good. Sentinel is meant to feel good. He loves when his coworkers touch him, no matter where it is. It’s normal to feel aroused by your coworkers’ touches, because Sentinel is meant to feel good. And so he doesn’t question it when hands begin to stray a little lower. Trying to keep his little breathy squeaks of excitement contained when they ghost over his aft plates. Stroking them so slowly and lightly, driving Sentinel crazy. Finally, when he’s bent over a conference table to reach the model in the center, Jazz grabs his aft. And instead of screaming and tearing the mech a new one, Sentinel only arches his back and lets out a small moan of pleasure. Heat rushes to his faceplates as he tries to stammer an apology for the misconduct. But everyone is smiling at him, and Jazz is kneading the mesh so distractingly.

“Does that feel good, sir?” Cliffjumper asks knowingly. Sentinel can only whine and push back into Jazz’s hands. “Good, we’re all glad. You work so hard, sir, you deserve to feel nice.” And then as if nothing had happened they all go back to the meeting. Sentinel could swear he still feels Jazz touching his aft but the mech’s hands are on the table. He almost misses the touch. But from then on his coworkers are happy to grab or pinch his aft. Running a teasing hand over his chest. Or, for the most daring, slipping their hands from his lower back to just between his legs. Teasing his permanently hot panel with their fingertips before groping his aft to play it off. It leaves Sentinel a distractible, horny mess as he denies his spike pressurization regularly. Until, between his constant denials and the hypnopad telling him that his valve wants to play, his spike stops trying to pressurize and his puffy, needy pussy starts gushing lubricants instead.

Sentinel, of course, rushes to the medics. First Aid feels blessed by Primus to be the one getting to examine Sentinel’s array. He hmms and mumbles under his vocalizer as he strokes and pets the hot valve under his hand. Making nonsense notes on his datapad as Sentinel grows more and more aroused until First Aid grants him a small overload by stroking his node. The spike tries to pressurize a little, the tip peeking out of its housing once or twice. But First Aid just gently presses it back inside, careful to make a worried noise and tell Sentinel that it shouldn’t be so easy to do—though it absolutely should.

“Well, from what you’ve said about your sensitivity and arousal, and between your cute spike failing to pressurize and your valve overloading so easily, diagnosis is easy,” First Aid says matter of factly, “You’re going into heat.” This is, of course, a lie. No one on Cybertron has had a heat since before the Allspark was lost.

“Heat?!” Sentinel cries, thighs still in the stirrups and valve drooling lubricants onto the medical berth, “I can’t go into heat! I-I’m too busy for one! And I don’t even like using my valve.” First Aid would roll his optics if he could, given the needy way the calipers were cycling at his as he petted the outside of the array. But he has a job to do.

“I’m going to prescribe you some suppressants. It can take up to two weeks to see any effect, but if you don’t see any results you’ll need to come back.” And then promptly hands him a bottle of estrogen.

It only makes Sentinel feel softer and needier. Imbalanced and emotional, but also burning with need and sensitive from the aphrodisiacs. But he can rely on his coworkers to comfort him when he cries from embarrassment at leaving a wet print on his seat for the first time from sheer arousal. Or when tears run down his faceplates because he forgot to say thank you, and what if they’re angry with him. Or in frustration, painted lips pouting when Blurr won’t let him have his energon cube without giving him a kiss and then insists on feeding it to him to “make sure he’s following medic’s orders.”

After two weeks of “no effect,” First Aid prescribes him a higher dose and tells him that if this doesn’t work they may just need to put him on birth control and let the “heat” run its course. And all the while Sentinel’s aft fills out and his hips begin to widen. With the increase in dosage, his chest feels oddly sore. The hypnopad assures him it’s all normal. That he only feels this way because he’s denying his frame’s needs. That he can rely on his coworkers, they’re so handsome and strong. How kind they’ve been to him while he’s been such an emotional wreck. And Sentinel is meant to feel good, after all. How bad could one little heat be?

YES YES YES dose him with some robo-estrogen, he won’t even see it coming. He thinks his suppressants are warding off his heat, and his colleagues let him believe it for a little while, easing off on the teasing so that Sentinel doesn’t get too suspicious while his meds and the hypnosis run their course…

I’m imagining him storming First Aid and telling him that he must have messed up his meds or something because– because he’s, well… It takes a private room for him to finally take his chest-plates off. His model was not equipped with energon sacks, all the protomesh around his spark-chamber was strictly protective, covering his delicate components. But there they were. Two little peaks have puffed up under his chassis, the nozzles, meant to release pressure from under the protoform, are now swollen, constantly rubbing up against the back of his chest plating. It’s awful, and he hates them, he can’t help but get all flustered and teary as he shows them off. First Aid just tuts, and after taking his fill groping Sentinel’s tits for “examination” he says it’s possible the heat is pushing through the meds in, uh, creative ways… He definitely needs a higher dose.

Sentinel’s symptoms only get worse. He’s still a wreck and his body just won’t stop changing. He’s gaining weight in his hips and thighs, he’s still so horny but he can’t get any relief because his spike doesn’t work anymore. He can’t coax it out of its sheath and when he does, it comes out hardly pressurized, a tiny cocklet that has barely any sensation in it. In the evenings he lies feverish and horny in his bed, forcing his silly little spike out and struggling to wring out just one overload out of it, constantly left unsatisfied when all he manages is one weak, dry orgasm a night. The only thing that makes him feel good is his work, and the mechs at the office, when they touch him and tell him he’s doing so well, and he looks so pretty. Sentinel never thought of himself as pretty. mhmm I wonder how long it will take him to finally crack and touch his valve. The overload he’ll clumsily finger out of himself will be explosive, he won’t be able to stop gasping, trembling for at least another ten minutes afterwards.

He can’t stand it. He’s gotta make the heat run its course, he needs it. He can’t keep fighting it, he realizes, it’s only going to take a couple weeks, his coworkers will help him… they’re good mechs. hrghh Sentinel’s “heat” never really passes. They keep dosing him with aphrodisiacs and estrogen, keeping him in his “transition” while he blindly believes he’s just about to be relieved of his heat… He doesn’t notice when it’s been three weeks, a month, two months…

[starcrossedxwriter]

Built for Love Part 8 (MBJ x Famous Black OC)

A/N: Ummm this chapter has a little bit of everything... Family, fluff, a bit of smut, slight angst. It also has a time jump because we gotta keep shit movingggg. And I could write 100 chapters of fluff with these two butttt we're here for the drama! lol Also another gif that has nothing to do with anything LOL But I imagine this is what our girl wakes up to every day and I love that for her

Warnings: brief mentions of DV

“So Charlie, are you excited to be back on the stage?” Michael’s mom asked as they settled around Michael’s dining room table for dinner.

Though it was a small affair, the table was weighed down by Donna’s decadent and delicious cooking, his mom cooking both he and Charlotte’s favorites for their goodbye dinner. Once his father had said grace, initial conversations had given way to the sounds of forks and spoons clinking against china as everyone passed dishes and savored Donna’s cooking. Though Michael’s family was used to it, Charlotte’s were too busy stuffing their faces to be much conversationalists.  

Her face had been drawn up in a bright smile since her brother, Lauren, and Jazz arrived. The tone around the table was a bittersweet one, joy for Charlotte and this opportunity everyone knew she deserved and needed, but melancholy at having two staples of their respective communities gone, even if it was only a temporary absence. 

Between the press tour and preparing to leave, the time had flown by and the move that once seemed so far away was hurtling toward them like a high speed train. Charlotte still found herself shocked that Michael was willing to move with her. As the date inched closer and closer, she half expected him to find an excuse not to accompany her. But that never materialized. Instead, he took it upon himself to do all of the planning. Time to find an apartment? Already done and vetted by Michael. Furnish the place? Interior decorator was already on it with images of both of their homes to capture their respective styles. All day, every day, he sent her restaurants and places he wanted to try, some Charlotte had been to and some she hadn’t, or asked her about her favorite spots to add to the list. His excitement was contagious, which counteracted the stress, dread, and anxiety Charlotte felt. For him, this was just the first of many adventures with the woman he loved. For her, it was returning home after running away. And that was never easy.   

“Yea I really am. It’ll be an adjustment for sure. Next two months’ll be crazy. But I… really missed it. I’m coming in a few weeks behind in rehearsals but it’ll be good to be back.” 

Michael’s hand, which had rested on her thigh since they sat down, squeezed gently to reassure her, soothing her anxiety. 

“Only on the choreo. This girl could perform the show and songs forward and backwards right now if she wanted.” 

Charlotte smiled. “He might be right about that. But the choreo is the harder part for me anyway.” 

“Yea the girl was born with every talent but rhythm,” Jackson called down the table causing everyone to laugh, Charlotte leaning behind Michael’s chair to flip him off without everyone seeing. 

“He never gives her credit. Charlie is a great dancer,” Lauren chimed in, not allowing her husband to joke at her best friend’s expense. “Remember the spring production of Oklahoma our freshman year??” 

Charlotte groaned. “Ugh don’t remind me! Some of the worst weeks of my life.”

“What happened?” Michael asked. 

“There was a nasty norovirus going around campus and Charlie, one of the only freshmen in Juilliard history to play the coveted lead of a spring production, caught it the second day of rehearsals. Was out for two weeks. The director planned on bumping up her understudy.” 

“A senior who despised me and was probably hoping the virus would kill me,” she laughed. “Director said there was noooooo way I could learn the staging and choreo in the two remaining weeks before opening night,” Charlotte interjected, rolling her eyes. “He was just worried he took a chance on a freshman only for her to crash and burn.” 

“Since I was dancing in the production, I could record rehearsals. Charlotte watched every rehearsal, learning every move, lyric, and note while she was sick. Sis showed up once she was cleared by the doctor and you wouldn’t have even known she missed two weeks of rehearsals. She looked and sounded better than some folks who’d been to every rehearsal.”

“Messed up one or two steps,” she admitted. “But nothing that couldn’t be fixed in the time we had left.”

“How’d you manage that?” 

She shrugged. “I just rehearsed and slept in between trips to the bathroom,” she laughed. “My doctor thought I was completely insane but as they say, ‘the show must go on.’” 

“Will you have enough tickets for us all to come to opening night or do we need to come at a different time?” Jackson asked.

“I definitely can get everyone tickets for previews, those start mid February. Not sure how many I can snag for opening night though.” 

“What are previews?” Michael’s dad asked. 

“Oh, sort of a test run? Just an opportunity to perform the show to audiences before the official opening night. Gives you a chance to work out issues and fix things before critics review it. The show ran off-Broadway first so our previews are only a couple weeks. So we have a month and a half of true rehearsals and then previews and then the show premieres March 1.” 

“And how long are you all gonna be there again?” 

“In total? 8 months I guess with rehearsals? I only signed on to be on the cast for six months though… March to September.” 

“Knowing you, you’ll extend it,” Jackson offered with a knowing smile.

Charlotte shook her head. “I dunno. Chris would love that. But doing 8 shows a week for six months is a lot. And gets old after a while,” she admitted. “Maybe I’d do a different show, but I'll probably come back here. I promised Chris six months so that’s all I’m committing to.” 

Everyone nodded in understanding, the conversation drifting away from Charlie and to separate topics. Charlie glanced around the table, a soft content smile on her face as she watched the two groups interact. It was not just each family chatting off to themselves. Lauren and Michael’s mom and sister were deep in a conversation about the struggles of parenting young children; Michael’s brother and Jackson were arguing about the Lakers vs the Clippers; and Jazz and Michael were deeply enthralled in a story told by Michael Sr. And everyone seemed genuinely happy to be there and interact. This was their first time truly combining the groups but she thought it boded well for when they all met the rest of her immediate family on the East Coast. If Jazz, Lauren, and Jackson liked them and fit in, the rest of her family would too. 

As dinner winded down, Charlotte stood up from the table to bring out dessert. Michael offered a soft peck to the inside of her wrist, which she returned with one to the top of his head, before she grabbed his plate to take into the kitchen. She hummed to herself as she loaded the dishwasher and pulled out the cake his mom prepared earlier that day. It was Michael’s favorite, her rum cake. Charlie could not deny it was one of the best cakes she had ever tasted, hers included. 

As she moved the cake to the island, she lost her balance on her heels, almost falling. She was able to sit the cake down quickly, it wobbled slightly in its glass case but remained unharmed despite her clumsiness. 

“There you go, tripping over air,” she cursed herself, annoyed and thankful she had not destroyed his mother’s cake. As she moved the holder on the island, a wave of deja vu hit her, a vision of a cake and cake holder smashing to the ground filling her brain. She paused, studying the glass cake stand, her stiletto-shaped nails gliding over it gently. Just as quickly as it appeared, it vanished, the memory too foggy and distant to make sense of. During most of her deja-vu moments or flashbacks, the memories hit her like she was being forced in front of a movie screen. But as much as she racked her brain, she couldn't think of anything related to this moment.

“You ok, dear?” Donna’s soft voice interrupted Charlotte as she zoomed through the Rolodex of memories in her mind.

“Hm? Oh yea, I’m ok,” Charlotte answered, glancing up. she noticed the plates in the woman’s hands before abandoning her thoughts and grabbing them from her. “Let me get those.” 

“Thank you, dear. Your family is lovely. They fit right in,” Donna offered as she moved to grab a knife and small plates for dessert. 

Charlotte smiled, “Thanks. I’m excited for all of you to meet the rest of them. Everyone else is fairly tame in comparison,” she joked. 

As she loaded their dishwasher, she glanced at his mom. 

“This was all delicious, thank you. Thank God he picked up your cooking skills or else we’d starve in New York.”

The older woman laughed. “Well anytime you want to learn, you let me know. Though I think you’d give me a run for my money with those desserts of yours.” 

Charlotte could not help but beam a bit at her compliment. 

Charlotte dried her hands on a dish towel, anxiously twisting the soft fabric in her hands and chewing on her lip as she watched his mom. 

“I hope you don’t mind…” she started, pausing as the older woman looked at her with confusion. “M-Me stealing him away for a while. I’m honestly still a bit surprised he wanted to do this at all. But I know it’s probably hard when he’s gone for a long time. I feel kinda bad?” She admitted quietly. “I know he’s gonna miss you guys so much.” She stared at the wall that blocked Michael and everyone at the table from their vision, her face falling a bit as she felt the guilt of pulling him away from his family and community in LA. Even though he offered, she could not help but question whether she should have accepted it, accepted taking him away from his family like this.

“If I may?” Donna’s hands wrapped around Charlotte’s, halting her anxious movements and towel twisting. “I know it hasn’t been that long but I’ve never seen my son as happy as he is with you. One thing you should never doubt is how much that man in there adores you. I dare say he would try to move a mountain if he thought it’d bring you joy. You should never feel bad for accepting the manifestations of his love and commitment. Because I dare say, this is just the beginning.”  

Charlotte felt a tear start to fall, not from sadness but from the love, grace, and compassion his mother always showed her. From the moment they first met to today, she never acted like those dreaded mother-in-laws her married friends moaned about. Charlotte’s mother would not be considered a constant presence in her life, a rarity at best. And through everything she had been through, the one thing she had always hoped for but never had was a mom. Michael’s mom did not know about her mom’s absence but she seemed to recognize it was something Charlie still needed, a mother’s love, support, grace, and word of wisdom. And she offered it in droves. 

“T-thank you,” she whispered, whisking the tears away just as Michael rounded the corner to check on them. 

“Hey, you two alright?” 

“Yes of course, baby.” Her face immediately brightened as he entered the room, not even just to hide her and his mom’s emotional moment but just from his presence. “Just hounding your mom for this amazing rum cake recipe so I can make it for you in New York…” 

“But… I told her she’s gotta be officially in the family first for me to share it. So get to it,” she whispered to Bakari with a sly smile and a peck on the cheek as she returned to the dining room with the rest of the family. 

“Damn, she’s not subtle at all, is she?” he asked as he grabbed the cake while Charlotte grabbed the plates his mom pulled out. 

Charlotte laughed, patting him on the chest as she passed him to return to the dining room. “No, definitely not.”

***

Their moans created an orchestra filling his bedroom as Michael kept Charlotte’s eyes trained on his as he fucked her slow and deep. 

They rarely had sex in missionary these days, both of them finding other positions far more interesting and fun. However, when they were both in the mood for something slower and more sensual, missionary hit the spot for both of them. It offered them something deeper than pure pleasure. It was an intimacy and comfort they both needed for their last night in Michael’s bed for a while. 

Looking into each other’s eyes was a meeting of the minds, beyond merely connecting with their bodies, they connected with their souls. They saw all of each other, all of the excitement, anxiety, joy, and fear of what tomorrow would hold for them. And every moment, every movement and touch between them was an effort to honor those feelings. Every touch and whispered adoration told the other that they were here and they were ready for everything the universe had in store for them. 

There would be time for fast and wild later. Tonight, they were just cherishing the moment and each other before their first real adventure as a couple began. 

“J-Just li-like that. F-Fuck, I-I love you,” she moaned, having already lost count of her orgasms as Michael pushed her to the edge of another one. 

She could tell he was close as he picked up the pace a bit. Her hips rocked slightly to meet his, her core pulsing and tightening around him causing a primitive moan to escape him. 

It only took a moment for him to fill her before he rolled off of her. 

“You good?” He asked, a question he usually asked when they finished up, whether the session was slow and sensual or had her doing acrobatics. And the answer was always in the same vein: she was more than good.

“Excellent. I could fall asleep j-just like this,” she yawned, knowing that her sleep after sex was always elite, Michael tiring her out to the point where she could not do much else. However, before she did, she got up to go to the bathroom, Michael talking to her as she groped her way through the darkness of his room. 

“You ready for tomorrow?” He asked as he found his briefs to slide on and climb back into bed. 

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess,” she called back. “You sure you still wanna come? Not too late to back out. Well, we signed a lease, on a way too expensive apartment, I might add… so it’s a bit late. But you could still do it.” 

Though her tone had the intent of a joke, Michael could still hear it, her hesitation and fear that let him know she was still concerned he would abandon her. He knew she would not truly believe him until they were moved in and settled but he was genuinely excited to go with her. Not just to support her and provide her with some sense of safety while she was there, but to witness this next stage in her career. This was her dream and he saw no better use of his time than watching her fulfill it. He knew why she was hesitant, they had only been dating for mere months. However, when he looked at Charlotte, he saw a perfect glittering gold path to a future he had never given much thought to because he had always been too focused on the hustle, a marriage and a family like the one his parents had built. To him, this was one step down that path and he would never regret taking it. Part of him was annoyed he would have to return to LA in June for another project before her time in New York ended but he decided he would savor the initial six months of uninterrupted time together. 

“You ain’t gettin’ rid of me that easy, honey bee. And after living with me in New York, maybe that’ll convince you to move in with me when we get back?” He asked as she washed her hands. 

She poked her head out into the room to look at him, finding that his face matched the seriousness of his tone and words.

“What? Y-You want me to move in? Here?” 

He continued to surprise her with his level of commitment and dedication overall. However, just as she was about to doubt he truly meant it, his mother’s words floated back to her mind. 

"Well, it wouldn't be here forever. Just till we found a new spot… something that's ours," he emphasized. “We’re gonna live together for at least 6 months in New York… if it works out and you don’t absolutely hate me by the end,” he joked, “Why not? What? You don’t think we should?"

She shrugged as she climbed back into his bed. “No, no, I’m not saying that at all. I mean I basically live here as it is,” she admitted. “I g-guess I just didn’t think about what living together in New York would mean for when we got back? Of course, you thought of it though. You think ahead and have a plan for everything.” 

Michael was glad she could not see his face as she settled against his chest. She truly had no idea how far ahead his planning went when it came to her. 

“Well, I just know what I want and I don’t believe in wasting time. But I’m not sayin’ you gotta decide now or anything. Let’s see how New York goes. I just wanted to see if you’d be interested in it.” 

“Yea, I’m interested.”

He nodded. “Now are you gonna tell me what you and my momma were talking about earlier? You looked upset?” 

Charlotte chuckled, she turned over so her chest was against his, her ear pressed against his chest. The light thumps of his heart filled her ear like a soothing drumbeat. “I should’ve known you weren’t gonna let that go… I wasn’t upset. She j-just said something I needed to hear.” 

She felt his lips press against the top of her head, her eyes falling closed for a moment. She appreciated that he did not press any further for information. 

“Yea, I don't know how she does that. It's kinda creepy, honestly… that mother's intuition."

“Yea, its like she sees into your soul or something." Her last words turned into a mumble as she yawned and her eyes fell closed.

All Michael could do was chuckle before kissing her forehead and falling asleep himself, her gentle snores filling his ears.

***

Charlotte glanced out of the floor-to-ceiling window of their new apartment on the edge of the Upper West Side. It was as beautiful and pristine as the pictures Michael had shown her. They were high enough to have a great view of the city from their balcony. It was in the perfect location too for work and there was so much around for her and Michael to do. The furnishings were perfect, the exact mix of her and Michael’s individual interior style. She knew he hired a designer but it was clear the person knew their shit. The house already felt warm, cozy, and safe, all the things Charlotte needed, and they had only been in it for an hour.

“What are you thinking?” He asked from the couch as he scrolled through his phone, both of them avoiding the dreaded unpacking they had to do. 

“I’m thinking about my crappy little studio apartment when I first graduated… and my two bedroom with one of my college friends for those few months…” she paused, that apartment was a graveyard of bad memories. “Before I moved. I’ve j-just come up in the world, I guess.” 

Bakari beckoned her to him, the young woman leaving her perch against the window to join him. The moment she was in arm’s length, he gently pulled her down onto his lap, Charlotte nestling into him with ease. 

“This place is insane, Bakari. I mean I love it but I still think it’s too much,” she remarked, she raised her hands as if to surrender, knowing she was bringing up a touchy subject for them both. 

“Aht aht. We came to an agreement on that,” he lightly kissed her bare shoulder. 

She nodded, neither of them wanting to fall back into their first true argument of their relationship a few months earlier. 

“So what do you think?” 

Charlotte laughed. “I think I could fit 5 or 6 of my first apartment in that place,” she gestured toward his laptop as he flipped through photos of a high-rise three-bedroom apartment. “I mean it’s gorgeous but I don’t think I can afford it.” 

“Yea but I can. It’s perfect. Really solid security, there’s only one apartment on each floor so it’s pretty private. And it's only 15 minutes from the theaters so when you finish up evening shows, it’s not a long drive. It’s perfect for us. Don’t think about the cost. Do you like it?” 

“Yes, I love it but,” she chuckled. “Creed was my first real check in two years, babe. And I still gotta pay for my apartment here. I don’t really have the luxury of not thinking about the cost of things.” 

“Ok but I’m sayin’ you don’t have to think about it cause I got it.” 

“Well how much do you want me to contribute a month? If we go 50/50, it would be tight but I could swing it then, I guess.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “ I wasn’t expecting you to contribute anything. We ain’t roommates, Els.”  

She shook her head, pushing off of the couch to pace in his living room, her annoyance officially rising. Finances continued to be a touchy subject for the pair. However, usually, Charlotte only put up so much of a fight before she gave in. But she could not give in on this, not today. 

“It’s one thing for you to always pay for dinners and shit like that but you can’t pay all of our rent while we’re there. That’s ridiculous.” 

“Why can’t I?” He asked, his tone signaling that he did not understand the seriousness of the conversation for Charlotte in the slightest. He still did not quite understand her hang up with finances. He knew it was part of the cycle of abuse but he had no problem spending money on her if need be. She had only just stopped fighting him on paying for dates. Though he was not the type of celebrity who blew all of his money on frivolous things, Michael also did not pretend money was a significant consideration in his decisions because it just wasn’t. And he would never apologize for wanting to spend his money on her, for wanting to support her. 

“B-Because I…” Charlotte stopped herself from finishing the sentence, Don’t want you to be able to control me that way. But she knew that was not his way.“T-then it’s y-your house a-and not mine. I-I would just feel more comfortable i-if you let me contribute something. L-Let me pay for half? Besides, you’re gonna be in LA sometimes, full time in the summer. You shouldn’t pay the full amount every month like you’re gonna be there the whole time.”

“It’s really not that big of a deal, Charlotte. I don’t need your money and I don’t want it.” His tone signaled that he hoped to get the final word in and end the discussion.

She could not help but feel frustrated like he was not hearing her. But she understood why he did not see this situation through her eyes. “I-It’s not about you n-needing it!” She cried out, Michael suddenly realizing her unexpected outburst meant more simmered beneath the surface than her just wanting to contribute. She took a deep breath, not wanting to start an argument with him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just…” 

He rubbed her shoulders and nodded, “Ok just breath for a second, babe. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it would bother you this much. I just.. I wanted you to have a serene, safe place to live and work while you’re there a-and I wasn’t gonna ask you to pay because money wasn’t a factor when I chose it. I just want you to be comfortable while we’re there.”

She sighed and rubbed her forehead. She knew she shouldn’t push him on the finances piece so much. But she refused to ever let a man hold her livelihood over her head again. Where she laid her head was important and even though she stayed at Michael’s most of the time, she could at least retreat to her home if she ever needed it. She did not want the only place she had to lay her head to be not in her control at all. 

“Look, I-I appreciate it. That place is beautiful a-and perfect. I love it, truly. But… t-this is the first time I’m living with a guy since Shaun a-and the a-amount of times he held t-the fact that it w-was his h-house instead of mine o-over me…” she exhaled deeply as if she could release the memories into the air with her breath. “I-If I d-don’t contribute something then it’ll be your house and not ours. I k-know you don’t need it o-or want it. But I need it. I need it to feel like I have an equal claim to it. Please.”

At that, Michael decided not to push any further. He understood her triggers were real and legitimate and if it gave her a sense of autonomy and control to pay him, he would not let his ego get in the way of that. 

“Understood. I’m sorry,” he kissed her cheek. “I didn’t think about that. This’ll be our home and I want you to feel like it. How about you deal with all the utilities and I get the rent?”

She could not help but laugh a bit at his “compromise.” “Those things aren’t comparable at all, babe,” she muttered. 

“Monetarily? Nah. But what’s the point of an apartment without lights, wifi, gas, water?” he listed. “All of those are necessities too and without them, this would be a pretty terrible apartment.” 

They squared off for a moment before she nodded, realizing he budged about as far as he was willing to on the subject. 

“Deal.” 

“Deal.” 

“We came to an agreement, yes. But don’t think for a second I like it. Anytime you wanna accept that 50/50 split, let me know.” 

Michael gave her a peck on the nose. 

“Not gonna happen. Let me treat you to this one thing, baby. But what could happen is us christening some of this furniture?” His eyebrow raised suggestively, his intentions clear in his words. 

Charlotte smiled slyly. “I like the sound of that… if we start with the counter.” 

***

“Charlotte. Baby. Stop eating your breakfast like it’s a drive by. Sit, relax, and eat. You got plenty of time. Don’t have to be there for another hour.��� 

Charlotte nearly catapulted out of bed that morning, a wrecking ball of nervous energy flitting around their apartment. Michael did not know how she was moving so quickly and chaotically, since all she did was toss and turn the night before. And as soon as the Sun was up, she was out of bed and out on a run through the neighborhood. And when she returned, their bed quickly turned into a wreckage of clothes, the young woman changing her outfit no less than 10 times. 

“Did you get any sleep last night?” Michael asked as Charlotte forced herself to sit at the island and eat Michael’s apple cinnamon pancakes, her favorite, and a couple pieces of bacon. Though this was her favorite breakfast meal, she found it difficult to eat, believing her time would be better served practicing or running her lines again rather than just sitting there. 

She scratched her head as she stuffed her face quickly, her eyes zooming across her sheet music. “Couple hours. Lots of tossing and turning before I just gave up and reviewed the music again.” 

Michael laughed, “You know every song by heart, even the ones that aren’t yours. You’re gonna be great today.”

She shrugged. “I don’t feel like it.” She glanced at her watch and bit her lip before abandoning her half eaten breakfast. “Thanks for this, Bakari, but I think I should go practice the songs one more time. The run in the Act I closer is fuckin’ killing me. I can’t get it just right a-and if Chris has us practice that part today, I don’t want to look stupid.” She paused her ranting to practice the chorus and run right there as she paced by the counter. She sounded flawless in Michael’s opinion but he could tell she hated it the way her whole face scrunched up in frustration. “See? Can’t get it. But you know… maybe I should practice my ballad first though… it would make sense he’d want to start there since it’s earlier in the show. Do I have time to do both…” She was no longer talking to Michael, only rambling and muttering to herself as her questions about which song to use her precious last few minutes to practice started to become inter spliced with actual lyrics from the songs as she studied the music while she walked through their home. “Babe! Have you seen my script?? Maybe I should  run through all my lines for Act 1?” She checked her watch. “I s-should’ve used the time last night to do that. UGH.”  

Her incoherent stream of consciousness and half singing were interrupted by Michael who put himself in the path of Hurricane Charlotte and their bedroom. Her favorite room to practice in was the bathroom because the acoustics were the best in the house. Imagine his confusion and slight amusement when, the first thing she did when they arrived after throwing her bags down, she started singing her ballad in every single room to test the sound quality before deciding the bathroom was the best option. 

It had not been 24 hours yet and he already learned one critical thing about her: she was a perfectionist chaotic nutcase. He had never seen this “behind the scenes” look into her process and work ethic. When they worked on Creed, she showed up to set every day the picture of an actor, in the zone, focused, and ready to work. He had never seen what it took to get to that picture and it was a perfect frenzy that he could not hope to understand or follow if he tried. 

And still, he found that her perfectionist nature that drove all the practice and ramblings only made him fall deeper in love with her. He imagined this is what he looked like to his friends and family when he was prepping for a role, so much energy and time spent to become someone else and embody their souls and personas. So much attention to detail and time rehearsing to give each moment in front of the camera your all. This was so much like that, and yet so much harder because Charlotte could not just yell cut to redo something. Every night she got on that stage, she had one opportunity to show her talent at its fullest. He could completely understand why she pushed herself as hard as she did. 

“Honeybee… you gotta calm down. No more practicing,” he grabbed the sheet music out of her hand, Charlotte offering mild protests as he walked to her bag and slid them inside, secretly adding a little card of his own. “You still have weeks of rehearsals. Keep doing this and you’ll lose your voice,” he warned, his lips twitching from the laugh he forced himself to stifle at the look of objective horror on her face, as if she had never even considered that was a possibility. But he imagined for her, losing her voice was the worst type of illness she could have. “Exactly. Rest the vocals for a bit. Sit, finish your breakfast and we’ll drive to the theater together.” 

With his hands on her hips, he steered her back to the island for the third time that morning and watched her sit down to resume eating, this time far slower and more measured. 

“You don’t gotta take me like a child headed to kindergarten for the first day, dad,” she bemused with a soft smile. “I’ll be good.” 

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to.” 

She nodded, talk of Michael’s plans for the day filled the rest of breakfast before she grabbed her bag, filled with her script, sheet music, and mid-day snack. Michael had to stop her from triple checking her bag before he slid a perfectly made chai in her hands and ushered her out the door. 

He kept his hand on hers as their driver took them the short ride to Abernathy Theater. She had not told Michael but she had performed in this very theater in her very first Broadway production out of college. It felt like a full circle moment to be back there. 

“Ok, this is it, babe. You got this,” he kissed her on the lips. “Can’t wait to hear all about it tonight.” 

“Thanks, love. See you tonight.” She took a deep breath before gathering her things and exiting the car. 

Charlotte glanced back at the black car before she opened the theater door, the window rolled down, to find Michael giving her a thumbs up as if he knew she would need an extra push to walk through the door. She knew her nerves were somewhat foolish. She had spent the better part of her life in theaters and on the stage. And yet, she still felt like a fish outta water. So much time had passed, so much life had happened. Chris thought she still had what it took but would everyone else? She had given up this dream. And though she had never admitted this out loud, she felt so much shame for how easily she had casted it aside and resigned to leaving it to die behind her. As she walked through the theater, her first time in one in over two years, she questioned whether she even deserved this second chance at it after she had squandered the first one, regardless of her reasoning for doing so. 

But now as she walked through the theater, taking in the opulence of the insanely tall ceilings and their perfectly preserved murals, the dazzling gold arches and trims, and the sea of ruby-colored seats, she knew one fact to be true. No one and nothing would tear her away from this dream this time. She had breathed new life into it and she would not lose it again.

“Charlotte!” 

Her visual survey was interrupted by Chris who waved at her from the stage. She smiled and made quick work of making her way to the stage where he waited.

“It’s so good to see you,” he mused, pulling her into a tight hug. “The rest of the cast is trickling in. But I wanted to show you around personally and introduce you to everyone. I’ll take you backstage.”  

He looped his arm around hers and led her backstage, the two laughing and chatting like old friends as he took her around and introduced her to everyone. He was showing her her dressing room when a familiar man’s voice filled her ears. 

“The prodigal daughter of Broadway returns… You know I took bets on when you’d be back.” 

Charlotte whipped around to find Malcolm Roberts, one of her costars, leaning against the doorway, his usual sly smirk etched on his face. 

She sauntered up to him, a similar smirk falling on her face. “And? Is the Tony award winning Malcolm Roberts poorer or richer these days?” 

“Richer…” At her surprised expression, he shrugged. “I learned a long time ago to always bet on you.” 

She laughed and immediately pulled him into a tight hug, the man lifting her feet slightly off the ground. 

“It’s so good to see you. I owe you dinner so you can catch me up on everything,” he said as they hugged. “You look amazing, still as gorgeous as ever.”  

Malcolm had been in her last production before she moved. She followed his career after leaving theater and his star had only risen higher and higher, as he deserved. And now, he would be playing directly alongside her and she couldn’t have been more pleased. If there was one person she trusted undoubtedly to act alongside, besides Michael, it would be Malcolm. 

“Thank you! Should’ve known Chris would call in the heavyweight champ,” she laughed. 

He merely shrugged. “A friend calls and I answer. That's how he got you outta hibernation too?” He asked as they walked to the practice room for rehearsal, their banter drowned out by the hustle and bustle of the team as they worked to build the set and gathered props around them. 

 “Naturally. One day you’ll have to tell us how you convince everyone to do whatever you want?” Charlotte told Chris who merely smiled slyly. 

“Win me another Tony and I’ll tell all my secrets.” 

The two actors glanced at each other and rolled their eyes. “As if you need anymore!” 

“Does your house even have room for another one and that big head of yours?” Malcolm teased as Charlotte snorted. 

“Well, my partner says I can’t convert the kids’ room to a trophy room. So I guess when you two are done sweeping, I’ll have to buy a new house.” He winked at the both of them before grabbing his assistant director to chat, leaving Malcolm and Charlotte alone. 

“How was the move?” He asked as he interlaced his arm with Charlotte’s as they walked. 

“Oh totally fine. Michael took care of everything, of course. All I did was say yes or no.” 

“Ah yes, the new boyfriend, aka my wife and sister’s celebrity crush. Remind me never to invite the two of you over for dinner?” Charlotte let out a deep belly laugh. “But I’m glad to hear it. Looks like you found yourself a good one?” 

“Yea… I think I did.” 

She raised her eyebrow as he stopped walking to study her for a moment, his face drawn up in a look of pride and something else she could not place. Understanding? Knowing? She could not read it. However, before she could ask him, he merely patted her hand, which rested on his arm and said, “Well no one deserves that more than you.” 

Before she could inquire more, they arrived at their rehearsal space, each of them settling into their spots. Chris did quick work of introducing Charlotte to everyone else who she hadn’t met and embarrassing her with his praise. She was thankful when it was all over and everyone started to pull out their scripts and sheet music to run through Act I. 

As she pulled out her materials, a small card fell out of the stack and onto the table. She picked it up and examined the card, Honey Bee written out on the front in Michael’s handwriting. She half listened to Chris share notes and information from the last rehearsal as she slid the stationary out of its envelope. 

I would say good luck but I know you don’t need it. You’re gonna kill it, as you always do, and remind everyone there today and in this world, who you are. Take a deep breath and remember you, not only deserve this moment but, you were made for it.

Love, 

Your biggest fan  

If she had not been in a room filled with people, she would have bursted into tears. She slid the note back in her bag after reading it once more and taking the deep breath he instructed her to. She grabbed her phone as the cast started the table read and sent a quick but simple text. 

Thank you ♥️♥️

She knew she did not need to elaborate and that he would recognize the meaning. Not a whole minute passed before her phone buzzed with a similar simplistic response. 

Anytime. 

***

A month later

“Oof, that’s it. That’s the right spot,” Charlotte moaned as Michael massaged her aching limbs. “You got the magic touch, baby.” Her eyes lulled closed as he did the Lord’s work, kneading and massaging the tense spots on her legs and back after another long day of rehearsals. "First show is in two days and I can barely feel my legs.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” He placed a soft kiss to the top of her spine before continuing his work. 

Though Charlotte did not mind the quiet, the silence that settled over them both as he worked, she found it odd. Most evenings, she and Michael never stopped talking, the pair catching the other up on any and everything from the moment she walked into the door until the moment they fell asleep. However, today, Michael’s head seemed to be elsewhere. 

“You ok?” She inquired. 

“Y-Yea, yea. I’m good.” 

She laughed. “I know you well enough to know when you’re good, Bakari. What’s wrong?” She gestured for him to move so she could sit up. She slid her robe over her nude body and slid into his lap.

“I just had an interesting call with Ryan today.” 

“Oh? Got another project for you?” 

“Actually, yea.” 

She motioned for more details, unsure why he was being so coy and secretive. “Ok… you gotta give me more than that, babe. What’s the role? And why are you acting like he threatened to kill you?” 

“It’s a Marvel project.” 

Her eyes immediately grew wide. She gracefully tumbled out of his lap and onto her knees, excitement filling her previously lethargic body. While she had only just started to get into anime thanks to Michael, both of them bonded over their love for comics. Growing up with her brother, she and Jackson spent far too much time in the comic book store and she made a point to see every Marvel movie that came out. 

“It’s Black Panther, isn’t it??” She squealed, her excitement radiating off of her. 

“How’d you guess that so fast??” 

She scoffed and smiled. “Marvel’s been talking to Black directors for months for that project. A-and Civil War is coming out soon with Chadwick. Ohh,” she shook his shoulders. “You HAVE to do it, baby.” 

He laughed, getting up to go into their in-suite bathroom. “You don’t even know what the role is, love.” 

She shrugged, following behind him with an extra pep in her step. She did not understand how he wasn’t more excited about this. 

“I mean I could sit here and go through all the Black Panther comic lore if you’d like and guess. But that’ll just make you horny,” she teased, knowing Michael got a little too excited when she put on her nerdy hat and talked comics. “And my legs hurt too much for acrobatics with you today. Why aren’t you excited? You said yes, right?? He wouldn’t’ve called unless the role was yours.” 

He pushed himself up to sit on the bathroom counter. “I want to say yes, the role is fantastic a-and his vision is spectacular. I s-spent the whole day reading up on the character and everything. It would be a game changer for sure.” 

“Of course it would. But I sense a but coming?” Her hands inched up his warm bare chest and wrapped around his neck as she stood between his legs. 

“I’d have to go back to LA for a couple days to screen test with Chad and a couple of the other confirmed actors, meet with the execs… and between Kevin Feige’s schedule, Ryan’s and Chadwick’s… only one week before like June works for everyone.” 

At the annoyed and guilty look on his face, Charlotte immediately understood. “Opening weekend of the show?” She prayed she was wrong but at the small nod, she let out a disgruntled sigh. 

“Yea. A-and I don’t want to miss that, Els. It’s such a big deal and I moved here to be all in on us and support you. I asked Ryan if we could find a different date or if we could do something out here instead but I dunno yet. I didn’t want to mention it because I didn’t want to disappoint you if it’s not a sure thing.” 

“Babe. I so appreciate you and that you even thought to consider me and the show before saying yes. But you can’t put your career on hold for me. This is the MCU, babe, I would miss opening night of my own show for Kevin Feige. You have to go.”

Michael’s jaw almost unhinged at her statement. That was not what he was expecting at all. And when he searched her face for a hint of disappointment or sadness, he failed to find any. Her joy for him was natural and authentic, not the forced type people give when they are trying to hide their own emotions. 

“What??” 

“I’m joking,” she amended but she quickly shook her head. “Actually I’m not. I would totally ditch schmoozing investors and the nausea of waiting for reviews for Marvel,” she laughed. “Seriously though, I’m gonna be doing 8 shows a week for months. You’ll see me on stage so many times, you’ll get sick of my voice and the show. You don’t have to be there opening night to support me. Honestly, I’d rather have you there the first night of previews in a couple days so you can see me on stage for the first time anyway. Opening night is only a big deal in that critics can finally review the show. And there’s a party for the cast and producers and investors and all that shit. You moved across the country to support me. That’s all I need.”

She walked back into their bedroom and grabbed his phone, her slippers shuffling lightly against the floor as she went.. She held it out to him. “Call Ryan.” 

“Babe… I just don’t feel right abandoning you on such a big night.” 

She tilted her head to study him. She found that she was not just saying those words because she knew she should not stop him from pursuing an opportunity. She actually meant it. Now that she was back in the swing of things, her anxiety had eased quite a bit. It had only been a few weeks but she had not seen or heard a peep out of Shaun, her promo for the show being reduced to one mention in a Broadway.com article, thankfully. And she knew she would have to handle a few days here and there without him before they got there. It was still early so she was still beyond thankful to have him there, but she could survive a couple days without him if he was needed elsewhere.   

“You aren’t abandoning me. You’re following your dreams, you’re moving your career forward. Ryan picked you, the role is yours. Meeting with the execs and a couple screen tests are the only hurdles you gotta clear. And you shouldn't put that off. Would I love to look out into that crowd and see you opening night, sure. But would I prefer to see you snag a killer role in what is already a highly anticipated project, 100%. I know you’ll be there in spirit.”

“You sure you aren’t gonna secretly hate me?” 

“I could never hate you. Besides, shit like this is gonna happen… we’re both two busy body ass actors. We aren’t always gonna be able to be there physically but I know you’ll be cheering me on as I will for you.” 

His phone still hovered in her hand between them, Charlotte giving him an cocky grin before unlocking it and finding Ryan’s number for him. 

“You sure?” 

“I’m giving you the push you gave me. Call him and tell him he’s got his Killmonger. Hopefully he doesn’t bust your fuckin’ ear drums like Chris did mine.” 

His eyes grew wide. “How’d you do that shit?? I never even said his name.” 

She chuckled as she turned to walk back into their room, her shoulders shrugged. “It was a lucky guess… that you just confirmed,” she smirked at him. “Now…” she sexily allowed her robe to open and slide off her shoulders, the silk fabric pooling to the floor around her feet. “Don’t stay on the phone with him too long.”

He raised an eyebrow suggestively, his thumb hovering over the call button. “I thought you were too tired?” 

She shrugged. “Consider it the last bit of encouragement you need to make that call.” She winked at him before sauntering off to their bed, delighting in the way his eyes followed her perfect ass as she climbed onto their bed. 

***

“Well, I think that part could use a bit more emotion from both of us?” Charlotte remarked as she and Malcolm reviewed their notes from earlier in the day. 

The stage was filled with chaos as many in the company practiced off to one side while the staging and lighting folks tried to get everything ready for their last rehearsal before previews started the next evening. Rebecca and Jonathan, the supporting actors in the play, were tucked in a corner just like Malcolm and Charlotte reviewing their lines. 

“For sure. We shouldn’t hold back. They haven’t seen or spoken to each other in years. All that pent up aggression and anger and hurt… it really should feel like something is simmering beneath the surface and then an explosion on stage before the number.” 

Before Charlotte could agree with him and practice a bit more, Chris’s voice grabbed their attention. 

“Heads up, everyone! So don’t hate me. But a lot of the investors can’t make previews tomorrow night but they want a peek before opening night so they asked if they could sit in on rehearsal after the producers’ meeting happening upstairs. Should be wrapping up in about 15 minutes. So we will have a small but mighty,” he emphasized, “Audience today. So everyone should give this their all and we’re gonna do it in our costumes. Go get changed. Sorry for the change of plans.”

Light mumbles and grumbles could be heard through the company as everyone filed back into their dressing rooms. Charlotte and Malcolm merely shared a smirk, the actor whispering to Charlotte, “The investors and producers say jump…” 

“And we say ‘how high?” she grimaced with an eye roll before shutting the door to her dressing room. This was the only part of her job she hated, schmoozing people whose only credentials for being there was the hefty check they wrote. Charlotte’s outfit was quick work, a simple dress, cardigan, and heels so it did not take long for her to change. 

She sang a few chords to herself, warming up her voice, while she waited for the backstage cue to return to the wings of the stage. When the lights flashed, she made her way to the wings, stopping by Malcolm who had his face drawn up in a grimace. She was thankful to find another actor who also hated the politics of it all. She followed his line of sight to the parted curtains, revealing center stage where Chris stood with a group of men in suits. They quickly reminded her of all of the men she met at Shaun's office parties and events, her distaste had not changed. Most of their backs were turned to them until Chris noticed the entire company was assembled and waiting and waved them over. 

“Let the jumping begin,” Malcolm moaned lightly as they all started walking toward the group of powerful and wealthy men. 

“And these are the stars of our show, Charlotte Bennett, Malcolm Roberts, Rebecca Sloan, and Jonathan Rivers,” Chris gestured toward all of them, the group turning around to greet them. 

However, the bright smile that Charlotte put on as she pulled on her dazzling actress persona immediately fell as her eyes locked with one of the men. Her movements halted, her entire body going cold and rigid as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice water on her. 

Everything around her went silent as if someone had pressed the mute button, she could not even hear her pounding heart in her ears. But she could feel it, beating against her rib cage as it threatened to burst out of her chest. She forgot where she was, who she was, as he offered her a menacing and knowing smirk. 

Instinctively, she took a step back, increasing the distance between them as the rest of the cast continued forward to introduce themselves. Only one person noticed her change in demeanor, her low, shallow breaths that were drowned out by pleasantries and greetings. 

Malcolm touched her shoulder, Charlotte almost jumping out of her skin with shock, finally taking her eyes off of a man she never expected to see here of all places, in her safe space. 

“You good? Look like you saw a ghost,” he chuckled nervously, though his eyes were filled with concern.

Her mouth felt bone dry, the words caught in her throat but she forced them out anyway. 

“No, no. Not a g-ghost. J-just…” she shook her head. “I… um, just need a minute? Tell C-Chris I’m r-running to the b-bathroom. N-not feeling great.” 

She turned and rushed out of the theater, her legs carrying her as fast as they could without breaking into an all out run until she found herself near a concession stand in the deserted lobby.  She needed as much distance as she could between herself and him. She stopped and leaned against the counter, her hand pressed into her chest as she tried to calm herself. She wondered if she would have rather seen an actual ghost. That would have been less terrifying than what awaited her back in that theater, a different monster haunting her from her past. 

Shaun Parker. 

Tag List: @certifiedlesbianbaddie @bangtanxmegan @reelwriter19 @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @hi888888sworld @msniaimani @destinio1 @lynaye1993 @chaoticevilbakugo @blackerthings @pipsqueak-98 @miyuhpapayuh

***

A/N: So good news… we got some fluff!! Bad news… some niggas we don't like have found their way back. Thanks for reading! *drops this off and runs away*

[hazshit-hotel-hater]

What are your opinions on each of the songs? (you can answer with as much or as little detail as you'd like)

Big shocker that the songs from the 2 good episodes are in S and the only one that isn’t is still B tier/sar

The first 2 songs in S made me either tear up/shake violently or cry, and therefore they deserve to be up there IMO. Out for love is also just genuinely catchy and had actual build up to it. Also God “Ready for This” just. OOUGGGHHH IT SCRATCHES MY BRAIN SO GOOD LIKE A WARRIOR CATS MAP. I like it a lot. You cant have multiple characters sing about working together and expect me to NOT cry.

“Stayed Gone” isn’t one I listen to often but it’s so peppy and fast and full of hatred I can’t help but enjoy it. Also everytime the song starts my brain does this

I dont know anything about Welcome Home

I have. Issues. With “Loser, Baby” but aside from those the song holds a lot more weight to it than I usually give it credit for. And for as cheesy as the start if it is, the line before of Angel talking about self destructing resonates with me a lot. Also Husk lays down in a puddle of vomit and no one talks about that ever.

I think the first song in B is “Happy Day in Hell” and I’m adding it there 1. Because it is the first song 2. It gets a reprise thing 3. Charlie almost gets hit by a truck. Other than that it’s not really my favourite but I respect the impact it has.

“Hell is Forever” just fucks. End of story. Alex Brightman killed it.

“Respectless” is good I love Velvette’s VA, but the sudden start of the song and the ending are so out of left field the first time me and my friends watched this show we had to pause cause we lost our fucking minds. Could’ve been better but I’d listen to it again, yeah.

“Hell’s Greatest Dad” is silly and funny and maybe I’m biased as a violin player and jazz enjoyer but a lot of the instrumental tickles my brain so nicely. I will say though it confuses me so much because why does Alastor care about being seen as a father figure?? My mom said it could just be him wanting to show up Lucifer and that’s it but I dunno.

“More than Anything (Reprise)” AKA “Charlie and Veggie Kiss Scene - Hazbin Hotel”

This song sounds like it’s straight out of Barbie & Th Diamond Castle and I’m honestly pissed the girls in the movie didn’t kiss so I’m coping with this. ALSO THE FACT ITS A REPRISED SONG ABOUT LOVE MAKES ME A BIT CRAZY. I never noticed this was the same song Lucifer sang to Charlie SOMEHOW but that’s actually really cute.

“It Starts With Sorry” Has a big part in Sir Pentious’s character growth and just his character in general. I’ve been working on this in my Pentious rant but I never see people mention how much this song probably meant to him. Yeah it’s super corny, but he was fully expecting to be killed and had just been told to kill himself. This was definitely huge for him and I’m not gonna be convinced otherwise.

“You Didn’t Know” is really good but Lute’s part is by far the best and I pray to GOD she gets her own song in S2 her voice actor can SING. GODDAMN! I am very interested in Lute’s character development and I love seeing what people do with close-minded characters like that and hopefully Vivzie doesn’t condemn her to Vivziepop Woman Syndrome. If she isn’t important in S2 I’m going to be pissed but I dunno maybe S3 if we get one.

“More Than Anything” Wish my dad was like this! This song is incredibly sweet and I appreciate it a lot. Honestly might go way higher on the list if I keep thinking about it.

“Whatever It Takes” Sorry you will never be Imagine Dragons. Vaggie doesn’t sound anything like herself cause her VA is making her voice so much more gruff for her character, which is fine! I like her voice (the voice direction is not very good but I digress) it’s just her voice is so high in this I can’t even tell it’s Vaggie.

“Welcome to Heaven” is boring, but we got a Molly cameo!

“Poison”. Read this and this and this. -10/10. I’d rather make out violently with Elon Musk.

[girlbossvicvega]

he was born in a dumpster. he’s brilliant. he’s very stupid. he spends half his money on buying his dog outfits. he’s been in love with his best friend for forever. he likes jazz. his accent is all over the place. he’s been through unspeakable horrors. his life is a tragedy. he never sweats. he’s misunderstood. he’s a goofball. he deserves to go crazy. he deserves to get dunked on. he does get dunked on, constantly. he’s cagey. he overshares. he arrested his best friend who’s the same one he’s in love with. he would probably arrest himself if he got the chance. when he’s sad he looks like one of those shaky little white dogs with eye crust. I didn’t say his name, but he popped into your head, didn’t he?

[problematicbots]

Winged Sentinel Act 2

Snippet 5: Earth Part 2

Warning Sequel to fanfic

Blurr and Jazz drive toward the construction site of a half-finished office building on a grassy hill next to the roaring interstate highway below.

Wasp fled into this building in bot mode, trying to avoid his pursuers. Despite their insistence that they were just trying to help, he interrupted their explanations by constantly shooting at them.

He found an empty, gray, half-finished lounge inside the office building. It was unremarkable except for a few unstable stairs and an empty elevator shaft.

With Blurr and Jazz still on his tail, Wasp quickly ran up the stairs, kicking them down and leaving them in disarray as he ascended the building.

“Woah that mech is as fast as a slipper on ice” exclaimed Jazz placing his servos on hips in disappointment and a little frustration.

Blurr began scanning the lounge for a solution unfortunately there wasn't much around besides the elevator shift so he took a closer look inside it with Jazz

to find that the walls were extremely close together giving him an idea.

“Hey Jazz how well are your parkour skills, “ Asked Blurr looking up at the elevator shift before linking his arms with Jazz

Jazz, In an insistence, knew what Blurr was planning: he was going to try to bounce between the walls of the elevator to catch up with Wasp, which was a little crazy yet was the only option.

“Pretty good if I say so myself” smirked Jazz confidently

“Right then on my signal: on, two, three!” shouted Blurr

Together, Blurr and Jazz jump into the elevator shaft, attaching their feet to the wall of the shift before beginning to bounce upwards in a steady motion until they reach a floor where they spot Wasp on a floor heading towards the roof of the building.

The two elite guard members jumped out of the elevator shaft unlinking their arms to chase after the green little runaway.

Once on the roof, they were joined by Sentinel and twins who soared down to help them back Wasp to the edge of the building where the danger of the Interstate waited below.

“Wasp, by the order of the elite guard, are here too.” Sentinel was cut off by Wasp trying to shoot him, yet luckily he dodged her. Unfortunately, the blast scraped the side of Jazz's Faceplate.

“Frag my faceplate!” yelped Jazz holding his injured faceplate while Jetstorm quickly checked on him.

It was only a little scrape but the sight of Jazs getting shot by Wasp was enough to set Sentinel and Jetfire off as their harddrive as he was consumed by anger and before Sentinel knew it was pulling out the static cuffs from his glove compartment and charging towards Wasp like a raging bull with his shield up front to blocked off the blasts with Jetfire joining him ready to punch him while Jetstorm yelled at them to stop.

“DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH HIM YOU COGHEAD “ screeched Sentinel running towards a now terrified Wasp.

Jazz quickly holds back Sentinel while Blurr and Jetstorm hold back Jetfire trying to stop them from attacking Wasp.

“SP he didn't mean to shoot me!” yelped Jazz wrapping his arms around the prime’s chest while he screamed in anger

“Jetfire is not worth it!” cried Jetstorm trying to soothe his raging brother

“LET ME AT HIM!” screamed Jetfire struggling against Jetstorm

“HE STILL SHOT AT YOU!” screamed Sentinel attempting to cuff Wasp who was nearing the edge of the building “THAT PIECE OF SCRAP DESERVE TO BE THROWN IN DEEPEST PRISON OF KNON”

Jazz was aware of this and wasn't happy about either yet he knew that Wasp wasn't the enemy here. Both Wasp and Sentinel needed to calm down before they hurt each other.

“I know but he isn't the emery here, Shockwave is he the one that caused all of this” pointed out Jazz “Just let us talk to him”

“But-” Sentinel's protest was cut off by Jazz cupping Sentinel's faceplate as he turned the prime faceplate away from Wasp towards his faceplate.

Sentinel felt the whole world freeze as he stared down at Jazz's shining blue optics like crystals on the light of the moon.

“Trust us, we know what we doing ” spoke Jazz confidently pulling Sentinel close to him.

Sentinel’s wings raised as Jazz servos kept cupping his facepalm gently, making felt off guard since felt his spark pounding until he saw the injury in Jazz's faceplate

causing yelling many insults about Wasp saying that he needed to be put on a leash while Jazz tried to calm him down

Meanwhile, on the grassy grounds, Optimus arrived with Bulkhead seeing the scene go down . Optimus overheard Sentinel shouting about how he was going to put chains on Wasp while Bulkhead spotted something else.

“Oh wow I didn't know that Jazz and Sentinel were together “ assumed Bulkhead.

Optimus nearly choked at Bulkhead's assumption: Jazz and Sentinel together as a couple. There was no way, right? He does not have time to think about the implications of his former academy buddy dating the coolhead ninja. He needed to get up there and stop Sentinel.

“They aren't- ugh whatever just get me up there!” Ordered Optimus

“On it” nodded Bulkhead picking up Optimus with his giant servos getting ready to throw him up in the air

Before Bulkhead could progress to throw Optimus toward the roof of the building they heard the familiar voice of the old medic

“What do you think you two are doing trying to pretend to be a bird without wings?” shouted the old familiar voice

Optimus and Bulkhead turn their helms to find the voice belonging to none other than Ratchet who approached them with Prowl by his side.

Optimus immediately jumped out of Bulkhead's servos since he was happy although surprised and confused to see Ratchet here.

“R-ratchet you came?” Stuttered Optimus gently surprised.

“Eh I still don't like this whole flying Autobots deal” huffed Ratchet with crossed arms “But even still I do care about you and I’m huh sorry about that“

“I still don't excuse the way you act” pointed out Optimus.

“Yeah, I know but at least let me help you get up there... it's the least I could do ” sighed Ratchet in regret.

Optimus nodded as the old medic readied his magnets to lift Optimus off the ground.

With one big swoop, Ratchet used his magnets to ascend Optimus towards the roof of the building at a fast rate, landing on top of the building to try to intervene.

While this was happening Blurr heard Wasp was charging his blaster ready to shoot either Jazz or Sentinel and that when Blurr knew he needed to do something quick however Sentinel acted before he did pushing Jazz onto the ground and hitting Wasp in the faceplate with his shield causing Wasp to fall off the building.

Time seems to freeze for a moment as Wasp begins to scream, plummeting toward the interstate. Everyone watches in horror, including Jetfire, who had previously wanted to fight Wasp. Jetfire looks on in shock, having never expected Sentinel to push Jazz so forcefully to the ground.

Optimus and Sentinel quickly reacted with the blue prime transforming into his vehicle mode to soar after Wasp while Optimus straight up jumped off the building in an attempt to catch him unfortunately Sentinel caught Wasp first as Optimus fell on the road below.

Optimus looked up in horror to see Sentinel floating above in bot mode holding his lance against a struggling Wasp's neck with Wasp looking terrified as Sentinel put the static cuff on his legs and sevros.

Soon the rest of Optimus’s crew joined him with the expectation of Bumblebee as they all looked at Sentinel in shock or angry at him threatening Wasp with the tip of his lance.

“Wasp, you're under arrest for assaulting an elite guard officer, I hope you are happy to sleep in a cell tonight! “ Shouted Sentinel into Wasp’s faceplate as the green bot struggled for freedom “BECAUSE THAT WHERE YOU'RE GOING TO SPENT THE REST OF YOUR LIFE CYCLE AT YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF SCRAP”

Optimus knew that Sentinel would eventually crack under pressure. He felt a sense of relief, but he couldn't tolerate the injustice any longer. In a moment of frustration, he hurled his axe at Sentinel's faceplate, causing him to stumble and eliciting an angry scream from the blue Prime.

“WHAT DO THINK YOU’RE DOING, OPTIMUS I’M TAKING CARE OF THIS CRIMINAL LIKE A REAL AUTOBOT” screamed Sentinel like the Autobot that Optimus knows.

“You're threatening a fellow Autobot that you know isn't guilty and that you know that is innocent!” Shouted Optimus “Wasp doesn't deserve this, we both know it!”

“TELL THAT TO JAZZ, ISN'T THAT RIGHT JAZZ?” shouted Sentinel turning his helm towards Jazz who was still on top of the building with Jetfire, Blurr, and Jetstorm.

Sentinel waited for Jazz to agree with him since he was the one who got assaulted but to his betrayal: Jazz simply shook his head in disappointment as got by on his feet while clutching his stomach in pain from Sentinel pushing him on the ground.

“SP you're going too far, put him down now!” yelled Jazz with crossed arms with Blurr joining him and even Jetfire who previously wanted to fight Wasp, stared at Sentinel in fear as the prime point the tip of his lance closer towards Wasp’s neck nearly denting it.

“Come on Jetfire, Jetstorm back me up here! “ Shouted Sentinel at least wanted the twins to be on his side.

Both Jetfire and Jetstorm transformed into their vehicle mode to fly up toward Sentinel in dead silence before speaking to him.

“..i.i’m..Sorry, Sentinel..but Jazz is right this is too far… I mean for spark's sake you push Jazz onto the ground” muttered Jetfire “You're acting like Alpha Trion when he tries to offline us..”

“Please just let him go” added Jetstorm

Sentinel widened his optics seeing that everyone was against him including his team. This was a betrayal that struck his core as being compared to Alpha Trion by the twins was a worst nightmare within itself and he refused to believe it.

“HAD YOUR HARDDRIVE TURNED INTO SCRAP! I’M BEEN TRYING TO PROTECT YOU COGHEADS UNLIKE ALPHAWRONG” screamed Sentinel into the twins’ faceplates. “SO STOP ACTING LIKE IDIOTS AND HELP ME TAKE THIS CRIMINAL DOWN “

This was the first time in two years that Sentinel insulted the twins and hurt their sparks deeply exactly, especially Jetstorm.

“THEN WHY DO YOU INSULT US WHEN WE'RE JUST TRYING TO HELP “ cried Jetstorm “IF YOU REALLY CARE WHY ARE YOU YELLING AT US LIKE WE MEAN NOTHING TO YOU!”

Sentinel tried to respond but Jetstorm wasn't finished as took out a picture from his glove compartment and threw it at Sentinel's faceplate.

Sentinel stared at the picture for a moment as he realized that it was one of Jetstorm's drawings. This one thought was drawn more professionally and inside of this drawing was a picture of himself holding the twins with the word sire hanging above him.

Sentinel was utterly speechless at the picture displayed on his faceplate, unsure of what to say as he watched Jetstorm continue while the drawing fell from his face and onto the cold, hard road.

“I should have never drawn this,” cried Jetstorm before flying away. “It was a mistake ”

“Jetstorm wait!” Cried Jetfire flying after Jetstorm

Sentinel just floated there trying to reach out for Jetfire and Jetstorm or the picture that Jetstorm drew for him while yelling “Wait!” but every time he reached out he nearly let off Wasp and wasn't going to let him escape again.

“Oh I don't think you're NOT- you’re not escaping again!’ screamed Sentinel holding Wasp tighter determined for him not to get away.

Was Optimus hearing his right: Alpha Trion tried to offline two Jetfire and Jetstorm, whatever he had no time to progress that he needed to stop Sentinel from making a horrible mistake.

“Sentinel look at yourself, you're poking a lance against an innocent young bot’s neck is really protecting others” shouted Optimus “You’re hurting him, you're hurting your team, in fact, all you ever do is hurt others including your friends!’

The final words from Optimus were more bitter than intended, striking a deep chord within Sentinel. As voices urged him to release Wasp, a tumult of emotions swirled inside him. Suddenly, he found himself in a surreal hallway of mirrors, where instead of his own reflection, he saw Alpha Trion. The elder held Elita tightly, a weapon pressed against her neck holding her above a hole the same hole where she met her end at least that was what Sentinel assumed.

“N-no I didn't- that wasn't my fault! It was- your- I AM NOT LIKE HIM” shouted Sentinel backing away from the mirrors

No matter where Sentinel tries to escape, he is surrounded by mirrors that reflect his image as Alpha Trion. In these reflections, the old mech repeats every negative action he has ever taken: taking Optimus and Elita to Acha Seven, insulting and belittling everyone around him, and showcasing every terrible mistake he has made. All of his past failures are embodied in the figure of Alpha Trion.

“NO NO!! it'-it-NOT” screamed Sentinel spinning around the room until he crushed down onto the floor.

Suddenly, Elita One emerged from the reflections and approached Sentinel with a stern look on her faceplate making the blue prime instantly panic at the site of his assumed-to-be dead friend.

“Not yours fault, haven't I heard that story a million times before” hissed Elita “It's getting old we both know what happened”

Sentinel stepped back in horror as he saw Elita approaching him slowly. However, she wasn't alone; soon Optimus, Jazz, Blurr, and Wasp emerged from the mirrors to confront Sentinel, all visibly angry with him. He looked down and realized that the Wasp he had once been holding was now gone.

“Elita I can explain i-I was trying not to lose you again!” cried Sentinel gently grabbing her sevros “I did this all for you”

Elita huffed before grabbing him by the neck, holding him high for everyone to see the monster he had become as his terrible actions flashed back to him from every angle.

“And look where that leads you to hurting innocent young bots” hissed Elita pointing at Wasp who in a huff shattered apart like glass transforming into Jetfire and Jetstorm who glared at Sentinel angrily as well.

Sentinel tried desperately defending himself however Elita wasn't done yet with her speech as she held him higher into the air.

“Hurting your best friend,” Elita continued, pointing at Optimus, who suddenly shattered apart like glass, causing Sentinel to screech in shock. “And pushing aside your friends for what you think is right.”

Just like Optimus, Blurr and Jazz shattered too, leaving nothing behind and making Sentinel screech even louder.

“Do you really think I ever wanted any of this? Do you think I would be proud of you for this?” Elita said coldly as she threw Sentinel against a wall. “Optimus is right. All you ever do is hurt people. You’re just like Alpha Trion, and maybe you two should have a little chat.”

Sentinel felt a pang in his spark when Elita One, the one he held closest, compared him to Alpha Trion. Before he knew it, she snapped her fingers, and the twins leaped at him, effortlessly lifting him as they moved toward a garbage chute.

“Elita, Jetfire, Jetstorm, wait!!” Sentinel screamed, gripping the edge of the garbage chute in a desperate attempt to stop himself from being thrown in.

“We are tired of your excuses,” Elita, Jetfire, and Jetstorm said in unison before they pushed Sentinel into the darkness of the garbage chute.

Sentinel is crushed into a landfill where he can face to face-with a stand-alone mirror. This time it was his normal reflection, at least he thought so until he or it began speaking.

“You know those cogheads are wrong, we are just doing what’s best for them “ huffed Mirror Sentinel.

“Exactly, we are just doing what's best for them” whimpered Sentinel “right?”

Mirror Sentinel nodded, stepped out of the mirror, and transformed into Alpha Trion, making Sentinel screech and step back in horror as the old mech laughed at him.

“I’m happy that we agreed, now let's take care of this criminal” smiled Alpha Trion evilly extending a servo towards Sentinel.

“GET AWAY FROM ME” screamed Sentinel summoning his lance to defend himself.

Without thinking twice Sentinel stabbed Alpha Trion's chestplate with a lance tearing through his spark.

Sentinel looked up at Alpha Trion expecting any kind of pain only to be horrified to find that he transformed into an exact copy of Wasp with blood pouring out and everything.

“H-how could you” choked Wasp before falling dead on the ground.

Sentinel stared down at Wasp's body in horror at what he did looking at the blood now on his lance and his frame. Wasp's body progresses to transform into everybody that he got close to in his life: Optimus, Jazz, Jetfire, Jetstorm, and finally Elita one.

“N-no!” screamed Sentinel falling on his back and rolling himself into a ball.

Sentinel took sharp intakes of breath as the world spun around him until he heard a familiar voice that snapped him out of it.

“Sentinel put him down now ” demanded Optimus

Sentinel snapped back to reality, finding himself still in the sky with him still holding Wasp hostage and pressing his lance against Wasp’s neck, in a moment of panic, he quickly landed on the ground and released Wasp.

Wasp immediately tried to run away but fell due to the static cuffs. Fortunately, Optimus ordered Ratchet to assist him while Bulkhead worked to keep Wasp still and calm.

“Oh man, Wasp, I'm sorry that Sentinel did that to you,” Bulkhead apologized. “But don't worry; Ratchet and I are going to help you.”

Wasp hissed at them, but Ratchet soothed him with gentle whispers while carefully unlocking the static cuffs.

“Hey, you're going to be okay, kid. We won't let you fall off any more buildings anytime soon,” Ratchet said calmly, gently holding Wasp's helm. “I swear to that.”

As Ratchet and Bulkhead comforted Wasp, explaining everything to him, Optimus decided to confront Sentinel. He noticed Sentinel walking away to pick up the fallen pictures that Jetstorm had drawn for him. Sentinel looked at the drawings with a mix of rage, mortification, and sadness. Observing this, Optimus placed a hand on Sentinel's shoulder.

“Sentinel—” Optimus began, but was cut off as Sentinel pulled away from him.

“DON'T TOUCH ME!” screamed Sentinel, placing the picture in his glove compartment before transforming into his vehicle mode and flying off into the sky, heading in the direction where Jetfire and Jetstorm had flown.

Optimus widened his optics as he watched Sentinel disappear from view. Ratchet approached Optimus and placed a hand on his shoulder in sympathy.

“You should go talk to him—and the twins, too,” Ratchet suggested.

Optimus nodded before transforming into his vehicle mode and driving after Sentinel, with Jazz joining him on the chase after Sentinel to wherever he went and to comfort the twins as well knowing that they needed it the most.