#and he gets in his defense mode and looks for threats (and that boy looks like a vampire enough for him to be suspicious and follow him)

[thal-ent]

I'm having a brainrot about my own oc and it's just because he's just a boy learning to accept and discover himself and that he's not a failure for not always succeeding

[buckydeservesthebest]

*New Bucky theory on Thunderbols*

Ok, now that a few days have passed and I'm thinking things through more calmly, and also because of Seb's comment “he's a little bit of Bucky and a little bit of the Winter Soldier”. I think I came up with a theory that doesn't include mind control, but could explain what's going on with our boy, keeping him in the character Marvel has shown us for 13 years...

I think first of all, Bucky is being forced by the government to work for them, and that's why he's a congressman, which otherwise wouldn't make sense. And let's remember that this is Ross' new government, the same asshole who wanted to have the Avengers under his control, the same one who said Bruce's body is government property, the same one who resents enhanced people, and the same one who didn't care about Bucky's innocence in CW, scoffing at the idea that he might have a legal defense.

His new government no doubt could have modified the conditions of Bucky's pardon, consisting now of having to do compulsory service for them and him being obligated to do only what they allow him to do. Doesn't that sound familiar to the Sokovia Accords Ross insisted on so much? This would explain the court scene in the trailer. Because no, that wasn't a congressional meeting scene as many thought, Bucky is in a courtroom, almost identical to the courtroom scene in Iron Man 2.

I think in addition to the modifications to Bucky's conditional pardon, there could be another type of blackmail, such as the government threatening him to pursue charges against those who helped him and Steve escape in CW and who Cap broke out of The Raft, ergo the remaining living members of team Cap: Sam, Clint and Scott.

Being how cynical the government is, and more so Ross's, I totally see this coming. I also absolutely see the emotional blackmail coming, something along the lines of “you worked for the bad guys, if you really want to repair the damage you caused to society, now get the bad guys”. They know full well Bucky still feels guilty about what he was forced to do as the Winter Soldier, though of course he's an innocent victim in all of that, and they're using that to manipulate him.

And there is no doubt Yelena, John, Ghost and Taskmaster are bad guys in the eyes of the law, 'cause well, literally they are criminals, who have done nothing but take dirty works as job for a living. And the government could have drilled it into Bucky's head that they are a threat to society and their freedom puts the lives of innocents at risk, which isn't too far from the truth to be honest.

I'm sure Bucky would prefer to take more of an arrest approach, and not a final elimination as such. Just like in TFATWS, when he plotted the arrest of Senator Atwood and the Flag Smashers. But if it is now the government/congress itself who ordered Bucky to capture/eliminate the TBs, and I suspect also the paramilitary group that was pursuing them, he could not resort to police intervention, because the mission itself is not one of arrest, and because the police work for the same government.

So, if Bucky is being coerced by the government, and he has no ally to turn to, he would literally have no choice but to do what the government demands of him. All coupled with the emotional manipulation the government would use by taking advantage of the unfair guilt Bucky always has to carry.

I also feel like that Winter Soldier mode is something the government also forced Bucky to adopt. They would want to use him and show him off as their own living weapon just like HYDRA, something like “the Winter Soldier who was the fist of HYDRA is now the fist of America”. Of course this is something our poor Bucky hates with all his heart, but he literally would have no choice... This explains how unhappy and depressed he looks, and why he let his hair and beard grow back as a sign of lack of self-care...

It is more than clear that absolutely with all this, Marvel is undoing their own “happy ending” that they gave Bucky in TFATWS, where they at least left the door open for him to be more than the Winter Soldier.

Of course they're not going to let him shed that name, because they're simply not going to let him develop and be recognized as a hero, even though Bucky has always been a hero in every sense of the word and in his own right...

[the-daily-dreamer]

can u explain why u dislike lucerys so much?

because atleast from my pov he was a 7year old child who thought his brother was going to die and retaliated against someone older and stronger than him with a weapon he didn’t even bring

also the bullying he was following his older brother and only companion as well as his much older uncle, an authority figure.

yes he should have apologised, but when should he have? when he was being treated by the maesters for his broken nose? when aemonds mother said to have his eye cut out? when he returned half a decade later and his uncle’s hatred was already there AND his own dislike likely pushed by his family?

lucerys definitely should’ve made amends but there are a lot of factors in it so i don’t rlly see the dislike? idk i just wanna have it explained, no hate just curious (:

Just going to preemptively say that I understand this isn’t hate, so anon, please know that if I have any sort of aggravated tone in this answer it’s not against you. I’m just very passionate about this topic lol

Also this is a crazy long post. Sorry y’all.

“…he was a 7 year old child who thought his brother was going to die and retaliated against someone older and stronger than him with a weapon he didn’t even bring”

When it comes to the fight, I’m mad at all four children who ganged up on an innocent kid and started beating him mercilessly. People love to focus on the fact that Aemond might have done something with that rock, but they completely erase the context, which is that he was tackled to the ground and being punched by four people.

The real context is that Aemond was on defense in that fight. He didn’t seek anyone out. He didn’t start the argument. He didn’t throw the first blow. All Aemond did was fight back to protect himself and grabbed a makeshift weapon to ensure he doesn’t get beaten by four people at once. He was in survival mode and doing anything to keep himself protected.

When it comes down to Lucerys in that fight. He had no business running in and joining in the group beating of another child. It wasn’t his fight. I understand he’s a child, but most kids understand that beating up someone is a bad thing to do. Even at 7. I knew not to punch people at 7, and I can guarantee most others did too. Age can excuse a lot of things but mercilessly beating someone who is on the ground being beaten by three others? I don’t think so.

But let’s look at why Luc cuts his eye out. From your perspective it’s to “save his brother’s life”. But is that really the case? Let’s really take a look. During the fight, Aemond pushes all four kids off him while he is being beaten on the ground. Once gaining the upper hand, he grabs Luc and holds a rock over his head, and…talks. He threatens to kill them and calls them bastards, but he doesn’t actually do anything. In fact, when Luc says his “father” is alive and Aemond realizes Luc doesn’t know he’s a Strong, he lowers the rock. At that point Aemond is no longer a threat. His weapon is down, and he’s speaking relatively calmly. It’s only after Aemond calls Jace “Lord Strong” that the knife is drawn. The knife isn’t drawn for self-defense or to save Luc. It’s pulled for the fact that Aemond called the boys bastards.

From there Jace keeps attacking him with a knife. Aemond gets the better of him in the fight once again, and Jace is on the ground. Here’s where the “saving his life” comes in. Aemond stands over Jace with the rock in his hand raised high and….does nothing. Again. I counted, and Aemond stands there still for about 10 seconds doing absolutely nothing. He breathes deeply. He looks at Baela and Rhaena who look back in fear. But he does nothing. In those ten seconds Luc scrambles to grab the knife, exchanges a look with Jace, and then Jace throws sand in Aemond’s eyes and Luc leaps at him and slashes his eye out.

Now, personally, watching that scene I really didn’t get the feeling Aemond would do anything. Every time he gets the upper hand and will supposedly kill one of the kids with a rock, he stops. He lingers. He doesn’t deliver the blow. By the time Luc gets the knife Aemond has been still and not hit Jace at all for quite a bit of time. He waits long enough for Luc to get the knife and for both boys to silently agree on a tactic to hurt him.

This also begs the question. If Jace had enough time and space to grab sand in his fist and throw it at Aemond to temporarily blind him and get away, why the fuck didn’t he do that before?! We see that Aemond yells and is disoriented by the sand in his eyes. Jace could’ve easily thrown it and kicked aemond and gotten away and they could’ve ended the fight by running away. But instead he waited until his brother had a knife and they could stab him. These boys weren’t doing this in self-defense. It was a coordinated attack with the intention to stab Aemond with a knife. They wanted to stab him. We saw that with Jace pulling it out first.

That whole fight is not Jace and Luc fighting to survive. It’s Aemond fighting to survive. It’s not Luc jumping to save his brother. It’s Jace wanting to stab someone for calling him a bastard (he is), and both boys working together to hurt him. I genuinely believe that the long pauses Aemond took are proof enough that he had no intention of hurting actually killing them. I think it was more of an act of intimidation to show they should leave him alone. So I hold all four kids responsible for what happened to Aemond, but most especially Jace and Luc because while the girls stopped beating Aemond and left after he pushed them off. Jace and Luc kept going because they got angry at the title they were rightfully called, and teamed up to deal a blow that resulted in permanent damage and blinding one eye.

“also the bullying he was following his older brother and only companion as well as his much older uncle, an authority figure”

As I said earlier. I understand seven year olds are dumb as heck, and they don’t always know what is an is not ok. However. Just as I would think most seven year olds know beating someone is bad, most seven year olds know bullying is bad. Hurting people’s feelings isn’t ok. At seven, I knew bullying wasn’t ok. All the boys knew what they were doing was insulting and mean. That’s why they did it. They wanted to be hurtful to Aemond. Yes, Luc was following Aegon and Jace, but that doesn’t absolve the fact that he fully knew what they were doing was mean and found it funny like the others.

yes he should have apologised, but when should he have? when he was being treated by the maesters for his broken nose? when aemonds mother said to have his eye cut out? when he returned half a decade later and his uncle’s hatred was already there AND his own dislike likely pushed by his family?

We can agree he should have apologized, anon. But you seem to be under the impression of how Luc simply couldn’t apologize because of everyone else or the circumstances. You seem to be incorrectly putting the blame on Alicent and Aemond for why he didn’t apologize. Even thought Aemond is the victim.

But let’s see, when should Luc have apologized? “When he was being treated by the maesters for his broken nose”? Sure! Aemond had to answer interrogations by his father and calmed his mother down while having his eye socket sewed shut. I’m sure Luc could’ve apologized then. A broken nose is not nearly as awful and having an eye gouged out, and he seemed pretty ok at that point so yeah. He could’ve spoken up and said he was sorry.

“When Aemond’s mother said to have his eye cut out”? I’m sorry but this reeks of Alicent anti. There was plenty of time before and after Alicent had a literal mental breakdown for Luc to apologize. Why even blame or bring up Alicent? She has nothing to do with this. Luc’s responsibility to apologize is not dependent on anyone else. Least of all the woman in the room who is the only person who cares that Aemond is hurt.

“when he returned half a decade later and his uncle’s hatred was already there AND his own dislike likely pushed by his family”? Absolutely. I assume you’re talking about the dinner scene, and yes, Luc absolutely could have and should have apologized. Yes, Aemond’s anger was pretty much set because it had been a decade of no apology for literally being maimed. But a late apology is better than no apology. During that dinner, Alicent and Rhaenyra, two people who had two decades worth of resentment between them, were heartfelt and kind to one another. Luc could’ve easily toasted to Aemond. He could’ve lifted his glass and said “To my uncle. Long ago I did horrible things to him, and I’ve carried the burden of resentment and guilt all these years. I am truly sorry for the pain I’ve caused, and I hope that my heartfelt apology can be a new beginning for us” or something else sappy like that. Team black may or may not have solidified resentment in Luc against Aemond (about what I wouldn’t know because Aemond didn’t actually do anything wrong). But that doesn’t take away from the fact he should’ve apologized.

You seem to be pushing the idea that because Luc grew resentment because of his family against Aemond, he couldn’t apologize. But he very much could. He just didn’t want to. Because he didn’t care. He didn’t think he was wrong and didn’t feel he had to apologize.

The simple truth of the matter is that Luc didn’t apologize because he doesn’t feel remorse. It’s not because he was too injured to apologize at first. Or because Alicent was mean for five minutes. Or because his family solidified resentment. He didn’t apologize because he isn’t sorry. And that is best exemplified by the dinner scene. Like I said earlier he could’ve apologized. But instead, what did Luc do? He saw a pig and began to laugh at the cruel prank and bullying he did against Aemond. He still relished in the mean things he did as a child. There’s no remorse there, only smugness and sick enjoyment in his past cruelties. That is why I hate Lucerys so much. The burden of responsibility to apologize was on Luc, and there is no excuse for him not apologizing. He just wasn’t sorry, and that’s not on anyone but Luc for being…just not a good person.

TLDR: Luc has had a long pattern of being cruel and mean and never felt an ounce of guilt. You are right that there’s many factors, anon. But they don’t take away from the basic facts. Luc intentionally hurt Aemond’s feelings and found joy in it, Luc intentionally maimed Aemond with Jace (instead of opting for a less violent conclusion), and Luc never apologized and never felt remorse for his cruelty instead opting to continue to take pleasure in his negative acts.

[dangerous-realms]

The boy was curious about the ki in his mother's belly, having not seen something like that before. Azura, would notice Keflas glance at her and tilt her head to the two, that was until the sudden increase of murderous intent would make Kiyokata panic and, naturally; he would scream. Something that would send Azura's maternal instincts into overdrive to protect her child as she uses her speed to snag Kiyokata and cradle the now crying four year old, her body having gone into defense mode with hints of distress mixed in.

"You dare threaten my child, Saiyan."

Her voice held clear hostility for what he had just done, Kiyokata clinging to her. Over a good bit away, Hikotoshi would feel the sudden murderous intent. He would not take long to speed off and in the direction of the ki of the two strangers, not once had they posed a threat until now and one had just basically snatches his son and was posed to run. He would prepare his ki as he burst out of the foliage, his ki was that of no mortal; but that of a god.

The look on his face was eerily compared to his eyes which held the gaze of a father ready to rip whoever was threatening his child to shreds as with a swift movement a ball of ki was thrown at Azura. Which would cause her to ditch their son into some shrubs so he wouldn't get hurt as the ki comes flying at her hitting her and sending her flying into a rock, and while it happend; a pole would be in his other hand, which with both hands would be used as a blunt instrument to hit Kefla away with.

"Your not welcome here, demon."

If the dad was still alive, then there was the possibility that he was on the planet. Well, that was only the case if he happened to be a good father. The child being a ki-user was not too surprising now that Azura had displayed the ability to manifest and utilize ki. If Azura who had been a mana user like the others, could do it, everyone would be able to gain ki instead of mana. Nevertheless, he had a feeling the father of this child could answer some of the question he had concerning Azura. What better way to attract a parental figure than to put the life of their child in danger. He turned his head to stare at Azura before making his choice. It was a good thing his energy was demonic and naturally let out murderous intent. It kept most animals away, and this was going to be useful once more. Instead of answering the question of the child about Azura having ki in her belly. He lifted his right wrist and removed the ki-eating device and just one second after the removal; a raging storm of demonic energy overshadowed the ki of anything that happened to be within the universe.

Resulting is the existent murderous intent to grow exponentially, and he hoped that this little release of his power and increase in murderous intent would get the father of that child to come out of where he was hiding. He knew just how badly that action would be received by Azura and the child and the father too. However, he had done worse to get something he was particularly interested in getting. If that did not work, then there was nothing else to do than to continue following Azura to who knows where. Well, that was if she even wanted to continue guide him since it would probably look like he was menacing the defenseless child who happened to be her child. But even more so, he kept looking to see if there was someone with ki getting close to them. At least, that ki should be easy to differentiate with the wild animals.

[killemwithkawaii]

HC that Sal would 100% be into pet play.

Between the constant slurs and his fear of dogs, it just ends up arousing him to no end.

He will also 100% kneel at your feet if you ask him to UWU

This got so much longer than I intended sdlkfald Enjoy UwU 👍💕

Puppy Play with Sal-

[CW: NS/FW (grapefruit), degradation, dumbification, unsanitary]

>See this is what happens when the trauma to kink pipeline is actually a drop slide into a very deep pool lolol

>I love this hc because on one hand, Sal is a self-conscious sweetheart who absolutely deserves the love and praise that a prized housepet would receive, despite him often believing otherwise. Participating in petplay scenes would offer him comfortable surroundings free of judgement, unconditional affection from a trusted source, reassurance that he's wanted and valued for just being himself, and an unwavering sense of safety he doesn't have to work to maintain. Plus, he'd get all of his favorite treats and toys to play with (as long as he acts like the good boy that he is!) 🤗💕

>On the other hand, Sal is intelligent and impressively quick-witted. He has so much on his mind, is always looking out for the next threat, and his go-to defense mechanisms are coming up with complicated schemes, thinking up convincing fibs, or turning the snark up to 11. Constantly having his gears turning like that takes a lot of effort- I say the guy needs a break! Petplay scenes would give Sal some time to turn his brain off, let someone else do the thinking for him, and allow him to just exist in the moment without worrying about what's to come. I can't think of a better way to do that than to turn him into a dumb, drooly puppy whos only responsibility is to follow simple commands and otherwise relax at his S/O/owners feet! (Plus, how fun would it be to see the typically smart-mouthed Sally so deep in subspace that he can't even string a sentence together? It would be adorable and we all know it UwU)

>He has to ease into petplay very gradually and needs a lot of positive reinforcement along the way. It was hard to convince him to try it in the first place, so don't expect him to crawl and bark on the first, or even the fifth go. Baby steps!!

>Slow to start acting the part, but tries his best every time and is a VERY good boy 🥺🏆

>Lapdog4lyfe- he loves laying his head in his owners lap and watching TV with them (though he tends to fall asleep pretty quickly if they start petting him). This would be an excellent starting point for getting him into pet play and/or lulling him into puppy space ✅

>Sal has a very difficult time eating out of a bowl. Hand-feeding is a better option, unless you don't mind half of his meal ending up on the floor and on his face. 🦴

>Likes bath time a lot more than he expected (just be extra careful not to get soap in his eyes or mouth!) 🧼

>His pigtails make PERFECT puppy ears and look SO CUTE swaying side-to-side when he's crawling around on all fours 😭👏💖💖💖

>Drool. Just… so much drool like goddamn someone grab a mop lol

>His gearboy is his favorite toy in or out of puppy mode, so he's not a fan of paw mitts. Only use them if needs a short reminder not to use his hands for 'people things'.

>However, he would not need much convincing to wear a puppy hood and collar, and he might end up adding them into rotation with his other everyday masks if it's comfortable enough. (He already had a gimp hood he wore ironically, so a puppy hood probably wouldn't raise any eyebrows.) 🤷‍♂️

>Sprinkles in a little mild bratting once he's gotten really comfortable with this kind of play (playing keep-away with toys, making a show of doing the opposite of commands, putting one paw on the couch when he's been told he's not allowed on the furniture, etc.). He's just having some fun, but that behavior can be quickly corrected with a good stern look if you're not in the mood to deal with a 'naughty' pup atm. 😠

Obligatory links:

Drawing of Pup!Sal during a rough scene [CW: VERY NS/FW (grapefruit), sadomasochism, injury, blood, unsanitary, degradation, bondage, nudity]

Sal with an S/O who consensually bullies him [CW: NS/FW (grapefruit), sadomasochism, unsanitary, degradation]

[ray-ray-writings]

can you do like a drabble of like— i’m thinking of how to word this.. the reader is sams kid (in game ofc :3) and is like best friends with tubbo, tommy, and ranboo. just like i want to be their friend 😭 - 🍦

Even though I am a 20 year old American woman, I so very badly want to be there friend lololol.

You would meet them through your father. I feel you two would just be on a walk down the Prime path when your father’s name was called out from behind you by three unique voices. You two turn around and find the two of you are now being charged by three boys. Not knowing who these boys are, you begin to hiss after all, you are part creeper. But the three stop dead in their tracks and their eyes all flicker to Sam in a panic. But Sam’s hand comes and rests gently on your shoulder, “Y/N” His soft and grounding voice fills your ears, “It’s alright. These boys are friends. There is no need to go in defense mode.” At his words, you let out a soft breath and stop hissing as your cheeks fill with heat in embarrassment. “Sorry” you murmur, slightly glancing at the boys, but then to the ground. “It’s alright darling. You didn’t know. You don’t have to apologize for that. Deep breath,” He hums before taking a deep breath himself, helping you take a deep breath with him, calming down all the way. Once you’re completely calm you look up and see the boys have gotten closer to you due to your father’s beckon. “Boys, this is my kiddo Y/N. Kiddo, these are the boys. Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo.” He introduces. You shyly stick your hand out to them, “It’s nice to meet you.” Tubbo is the first one to grab your hand, “You too!” He cheers, shaking your hand enthusiastically. You also shake Ranboo’s hand who gives you a warm smile, and then you turn to Tommy but his gaze is focused on Sam. “SAM!! Why didn’t you tell us you had a kid? And a kid our age at that?!?!” He shrieks causing Sam to laugh. “Because I knew you would react like this. They’re a little shy, as you saw, and I didn’t want to overwhelm them” Tommy lets out a huff but turns to you and grabs your hand and shakes it. “It is nice to meet you. I wish it had been sooner, but I’ll take what I can get…. You want to hang out with us?” He asks. You look over to your father who gives you a small encouraging nod. So you look back to the boys and give them a small nod, “Yeah! I’d like that.” “Alright let’s go!” Tommy shouts, wrapping his hand around your wrist and pulling you along. “Hey wait! What did you guys need in the first place?” Sam calls out from behind you four causing them to pause for a moment. “We wanted to see if you wanted to hang out… But we’ve found someone better… Maybe next time!” The words cause Sam to laugh but gives you a wave and so off you go.

You four are so chaotic together. Like a lot of the time you and Tommy are forming prank ides and stuff for others on the server and Tubbo and Ranboo are like “Tommy, Y/N no” but you two are like “Tommy, Y/N yes!” And egg each other on. Sometimes you guys get caught and you have to take the heat and convince who ever it was that you pranked that you four were not involved in anyway… Nope, no sir not you four. Whoever it was you pranked never really believes you but you’re so well liked on the server that they let it slide. Sometimes you four will pull pranks on each other. Just little things like hiding something from each other or stealing something. Using invis pots and following them around. Cutesy funny stuff like that that make you all laugh at the end of the day.

You four are always there for each other, both physically, emotionally, and mentally.

You help Ranboo with his memory issues. You’re always very patient with him, helping him remember the simple things he may have forgotten. Just simple things like where he put things or what he was planning on doing that day. You also spend a lot of time making sure that he never feels overwhelmed. But if he does, you’re always there to help calm him down. You can very easily bring him back to reality and bring him back to earth. Reassuring him that he’s okay and that he hasn’t hurt anyone and that you’re not going anywhere.

With Tubbo, it’s making sure that he is okay from his time as President, and even before that. His time with Schlatt had a big effect on him and then the whole weight of the country was put on him at a very very young age and then it blew up… Twice… So you always assure him that he did the best he could with the cards he was dealt and although looking back now, you don’t agree with all his decisions, you understood why he made them. You tell him he can’t change the past but he can shape the future and make sure the things that happened never happen again to anyone.

For Tommy, you spend a lot of time standing up for him. It seems everyone is always being mean to him or picking on him, calling him annoying and stuff. He tries to brush it off, let’s out a laugh and tries to let it run off his shoulders but you can tell it hurts. So you stand up for him. Tell the person, whoever it may be, that Tommy is not annoying, they just are a big baby. They can’t handle it. You would then go on and talk about how amazing Tommy is and how much he’s done for his friend’s and family. How he is a fighter, how he’s fought for the things he loves and that are important to him. You often run out of breath and the person that was picking on Tommy simply mumbles an apology before rushing away. You would then pull Tommy in a hug and assure him that he was not annoying and that he was the best friend you’ve ever had. He will never admit it, but after that he goes home and cries. Tommy just cannot believe that you would do that for him…

The boys always have your back too. Whenever you begin to hiss and seem on the verge of exploding, the boys will always calm you down. Whispering words of reassurance and calm trying to get you to calm down. Tubbo usually pulls you in a hug and is like “You can’t explode now… Or I’ll be in the blast and we can’t have that” which causes you to giggle and calm down. I feel like you would get a lot of headpats because Tommy and Ranboo are def both taller than you and they want to show you affection for calming down. If anyone ever makes fun of you, you can bet your ass they boys are prepping to throw down. Like there have legit been threats of war because someone called you weird. One time, the four of you were talking to Dream and he made a slide comment about you and Tommy legit had to be restrained by Tubbo and Ranboo because he was screaming curses at Dream and almost punched him the face. Sam just so happened to walk by and find the scene and he rushes up and grabs Tommy from the two other boys, he is a lot stronger than them combined lol. But he asks what’s happening and you reluctantly tell him and his demeanor shifts to a whole darker tone. He let’s go of Tommy and pushes him toward the three of you that had gathered side by side. “Kids, go play… Or go do whatever you kids do… Dream and I are going to have some words.” “Dad-“ you try to interrupt and stop him, but you are very quickly being ushered away by your best friends to go explore or something. You never have a problem with Dream after that.

You four can almost always be found together or broken off into pairs. Whenever someone is looking for one of you, they absolutely will have to find all of you. You can usually be found in Tommy’s house, in your house, strolling around what use to be L’Manberg, or Snowshire. Sometimes you for will just leave and go on adventures, only telling Sam where you were going. You four weren’t really ever going anywhere, you were just exploring. You might be gone for a few hours you may be gone for a day or two… Who knows. But you four just explore, taking in anything and everything. You’ve found so many biomes and villages on your journeys. Tried so many new foods and smelled so many new flowers. These would be the times where you four can just let go, be kids. No country to run, no wars to fight, no manipulative assholes to worry about. It’s just you four. And you’re best friends

This was so bad lol. But I hope you enjoyed either w

[cupcakes-and-pain]

I approach Kanoa as non-threateningly as I can. He's still defensive, I can tell. "I hear we have a mutual acquaintance, Kim. She's setting up half of this plan. I'm here to help with the other half. What supplies do you need to get them out safely? Do you need any backup in case of trouble, or another set of hands with medical training?"

I’m very sorry for any mistakes. I’m tired and I also feel asleep like half way through writing this, so it might be a bit weird at places. Also it’s longer than I expected, but I like writing Lunar and Kanoa together apparently, so you guys get this.

———

Kanoa is outside the base, trying to figure out how protect against any future spies when he hears someone behind him. He gets into attack mode but this person seemed to have been trying to alert him of her presence. She also had her hands were he could see them and a very calm expression. This person wanted to seemed determined to show that they aren’t a threat to him.

And normally, Kanoa could have just accepted this. But after that note and his revelation about their security, he wasn’t taking any chances.

“Who are you and want do you want? This is private property.”

“I hear we have a mutual acquaintance, Kim,” the woman says, still trying to be non threatening. Who the hell is Kim? “She's setting up half of this plan. I'm here to help with the other half. What supplies do you need to get them out safely? Do you need any backup in case of trouble, or another set of hands with medical training?"

Kanoa narrows his eyes, taking in all this information. Getting someone out safely? So maybe he was right about the person wishing to save Runt? Hmm, he’ll ask about that later. For now,

“Who’s Kim?”

The woman looks confused.

“The one who contacted you. I believe she used a note? Are you telling me that she didn’t even sign it or anything?” Kanoa’s nod made the woman sign. She didn’t look surprised.

“I don’t trust you or Kim, but I’m willing to continue to discuss this. But first, let’s get to somewhere more private.”

The two settled on the garage floor, far from the living spaces of the base and somewhat soundproof, although Kanoa could still reach the alarm switch if necessary. It was there that this woman, Lunar, told him about the plan to beat up Ethan and Hazel (he shouldn’t have ruled out that plant bitch now that he knew they were spying on the base’s inhabitants) and then get Runt to a safe place. He also agreed that she should bring a bit of back up for fighting and/or caring for Runt.

“Alright, sounds fair enough. I do need my deniability and I don’t care for physical violence much anyways, but I’ll help you. But don’t try anything.” Kanoa glared at the woman, needing to get the message across. ”I’m keeping my eye on the boy the whole time and he’ll be going into my car and straight to a secret safe house Ivan and I share. As sad as it is, I know plenty of other corrupt heroes and government who will find you and arrest you and your people if you take our ‘property.’ Understood?”

“Yes, of course. Back to supplies. What exactly do you need?”

“Oh yeah, well, let’s see. It’d take too long to give him a cast in the moment, so we’ll need a splint and two slings. Bandages in case, although I think most of those are already taken care of. Painkillers. Let’s see, what else? Is there anything you can find for nausea? I’ve heard some unfortunate tales of slaves being suddenly taken away from their owners getting sick with worry. Speaking of, perhaps we should use the slings and bandages to hold him somewhat still. I wish there was a way to not take away his right to move freely, but he’s not exactly meek or very accepting of bad things happening to him.”

Lunar nodded. Final touches were made to the plan and he showed her out. He set all alarms to disarm at exactly 8:00 pm, even if someone else sets them. He also sets the door to be unlocked, but some will require a bit of manual lock picking as well. He’s already told all of this to Lunar.

Everything would go down tonight, as everyone will be getting ready to wind down and go to bed.

He decided to check on the poor man of the hour, just to make sure there was nothing hindering their plans. As he walked, he thought about leaving a message for this Kim, telling her the conditions he has made if she wants to continue her part of the plan. The note would probably have to be left near where he got the first one. Which was by the window. On the other side of the base. Oh well, a little walking was healthy for you.

Unfortunately, his thoughts were cut short by the fact that Runt was unconscious. Kanoa rushed over, wondering if the poor thing had finally passed out from exhaustion, but further examination proved that he was out cold. And no sign of head injury either. Drugs maybe? But who? This wasn’t Hazel or her puppet’s style.

It must have been an outsider. It was probably Kim, Lunar, or one of their associates. But Lunar had mentioned nothing of this and getting Runt wasn’t Kim’s objective. Must have been an overeager assistant or something. He’ll have to have a word with them about keeping their people in line if they want to avoid trouble.

But for now, since Runt seemed to have no new conditions since Kanoa last saw him, it was time to write Kim a letter.

@kim-poce

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

Oooh you're doing requests? 👉👈 Then if it's alright and you're not overwhelmed with asks, could I request an F, I, P, and C for Shakes? Thanks so much!

Sure thing, love! I hope you enjoy these!!! ❤️❤️❤️

Fluff Alphabet Template for requests here

Cuddling – How does he like to cuddle?

I think he’s a man wholly unused to physical affection, and still someone who is very guarded in response to it; he can’t always trust his defensive instincts when it comes to others. Such being the case, I think he’s the kind of person that needs to be slowly initiated into cuddling.

Start with a little lean into his side, take it slow. His hand will come up to stroke at her hair, leaning in as well after a bit. He’s not used to such a steady warmth–a love that’s reliable and true and strong. I think his favorite cuddles usually end up in some permutation of that position; leaning against each other, maybe an arm around her when he’s feeling more bold later on. There’s something so grounding but also not super intrusive about that kind of position, and a lot of times he can work on his scripts/performance notes and drop kisses to her head while he’s thinking. Sometimes the hand that’s not writing will find hers instinctively in the midst of his focus, and she can’t help but smile as his serious, thoughtful look doesn’t waver.

Family – Do they want one? If they do, when?

This one’s a tough topic for Will, in that he’s very torn. He’s a man who feels loneliness very acutely–a family in theory is something that fills him with a great deal of warmth. But at the same time…he really isn’t sure if he has what it takes to be a parent. He has nothing against children at all, but he knows he’s not nurturing–pure of heart–the way Isaac and Napoleon and Jeanne are. He doesn’t really know how to dial down his intensity or move at a normal, child-friendly pace. He only know hustle and bustle and repression.

I think the answer really depends on the future. Maybe in a few years, he’ll feel more equipped to handle children with MC’s help. But if he’s honest, in the present moment, the prospect seems lovely but daunting. Wait a few years and see, is my impression. (Please be patient with him TwT)

Injury – How would he react if she got hurt?

Oh boy, kids. I really…really don’t see this ending well. He’s the kind of person who will be very stoic at the sight of any harm done to her. His first move is to seek out whatever medical care necessary. Assuming this is fairly notable or severe, he’s doing his best to place pressure on the wound and slow the bleeding. He’s so focused on getting help and keeping her from going into shock that he won’t even notice the bloodlust eating at him, impatiently sweeping it aside.

She will stabilize, and he will leave crisis mode back into some degree of safety mode. There is a catch, however…

After he gets through the worst of it, he is assaulted by very severe dissociation. The cost of keeping his cool in the face of distress is always costly, and he has to work very, very hard to stay away from coping mechanisms he promised MC he would abandon. The only thing that helps him through the stress attacks is staying by her side, never leaving for a minute. Anything she needs, she gets. Anything that will keep the steady beat of her heart alive…(and so too keep his beating).

Every morning she wakes up and looks at him with such adoring eyes, relief finds him as surely as sleep cannot for the time being. With her coaxing and hushed murmurs of love, he’ll finally succumb to sleep at her bedside. For the first time in days without the threat of nightmares.

Pet Names – What does he like to call her?

He considers her an irreplaceable presence in his life, so he tends to use her name very fondly more often than not. Maybe a nickname, if she has one she likes that only he can use (he’s a lil possessive, sue him).

Also he’s written too many plays with terms of endearment, now they’re all colored with certain connotations for him HAHAHAH and he promised. His work comes second now, MC first.

[helnjk]

Defending Her Honor - D.M.

Draco Malfoy x ravenclaw!reader 

Requested: yes

hii! could i request prompts 31 and 48 from list #1 with draco x ravenclaw!reader, please? maybe some slytherins are bothering her while she's studying on the great hall and draco sees them approach her table. she gets ups and walks to the hall but they follow her and make fun so he stands up for her and it's angry-as-hell!draco but also completely soft-for-her!draco. just extremely protective boyfriend mode and fluff overload with lots of kisses pleeease. thanksss, xx✨

“oi! that’s my girlfriend” “fuck what everyone else thinks!” 

Warnings: swearing, brief mentions of food & eating, bullying (? kinda)

Word count: 1.2k 

A/N: I tweaked it a bit, if that’s okay, she’s the one that follows him out of the Hall but you know,, the idea is there HAHA! & also, angry-as-hell!draco & completely soft-for-her!draco tho 🥺 that shit huRTED

Prompts are in bold

---

Everyone knew that OWL and NEWT season for the 5th and 7th years was basically hell on earth. There was not one corner of the whole castle that one couldn’t find a student trying to cram as much information into their head as possible. Some could say that Ravenclaws had it a little better since their common room was basically a second library and they already had the disposition for learning and knowledge, but they were wrong. 

(Y/N) was sick of studying in the common room and the library, and of studying in general. Ravenclaws might be known for their cleverness, wit, and wisdom, but damn even they couldn’t go on studying 24/7 like this. She needed a break and it was almost lunch time anyway. 

She gathered up the books spread across her desk in the dorm and unceremoniously dumped them into her school bag. With a huff she blinked away the tears of frustration pooling in her eyes. Being a 7th year just on the brink of the rest of her life was daunting and scary, and frankly, she could not be arsed. She was only just 17 after all, why did she need her whole life mapped out already? 

With one final sweep of the room, she marched out of her dorm and out of Ravenclaw tower to make her way to the Great Hall. On the way there, she noticed a few Slytherins in her year giving her looks and whispering when she walked past. She shrugged it off, not being in the right headspace to wonder why in the world they were paying attention to her. 

Then, all of a sudden she felt herself get hit with a tripping jinx. The books she was carrying in her arms and the bag on her shoulder flew as her legs magically stuck together. She hit the stone floor with a thud and could hear the snickers of the Slytherins who rushed past her. 

“Fuck,” She hissed, feeling the skin of her palms and knees aching as they were what padded her fall. 

For the nth time that day, she felt tears pool in her eyes out of frustration. She didn’t acknowledge them, however, she had no time to. She had to get to the Great Hall and have some lunch before going back to revising for her NEWTs. 

Thankfully, no one else was in the hallways leading there. (Y/N) got to the Ravenclaw table relatively unscathed after the incident with the Slytherins. Speaking of, she spared a glance at their table to see her boyfriend, Draco, already looking at her.

He quirked an eyebrow at her as if to say are you alright? and she gave a brief nod and sent a small smile his way before turning to the food in front of her. 

Draco, however, could tell that something was wrong. (Y/N) tried to be as reassuring as possible with her facial expression and body language, but he could see the slight redness in her eyes and the discomfort in her hands. 

He was proven right when he heard a few chuckles and snickers from down the table. 

“Did you see her face when she fell?” One of his fellow housemates, Quimby, snorted,  “(Y/L/N) is too easy to mess around with. I hope it hurt when she hit the floor.” 

Another Slytherin, a girl who so clearly wanted to impress him, laughed a little too loudly in response and said, “You should try a stinging jinx next or maybe the bat-bogey hex.” 

“I like the way you think,” He agreed, shovelling food into his mouth unceremoniously, “I bet I can make her cry by the end of the day.” 

Draco had had enough. His blood was boiling and he had to clench his fists to make sure he wouldn’t do anything rash like hex the living daylights of this prick. It was getting harder and harder to restrain himself, though. 

“Oi! That’s my girlfriend you’re talking about, you prat,” He said, turning to face them, “And I don’t like how you’re talking about her. If I hear you say one more thing about hurting her in any way–”

“You’ll what, run along to your Daddy?” Quimby sneered, rolling his eyes and not taking the threat seriously. 

Forgetting that he had a wand, Draco stood up quickly and punched him directly in the face. 

Yells of shock burst from several Slytherins who watched the entire thing go down, and soon the rest of the Great Hall had their eyes on the 2 boys. Quimby attempted to reach for his wand, but was stopped as soon as the professors got involved. 

“Detention Mr. Malfoy,” Professor McGonagall, who was the first to come out of shock, said. 

Draco merely nodded and grabbed his school bag before rushing out of the Hall. (Y/N), still in shock, quickly gathered her things (and her thoughts) to follow him out. She had to quicken her pace slightly, knowing that he was significantly taller than her and had a pretty good head start. Thankfully, she caught up to him at the end of a hallway. 

“Hey,” She breathed once she reached him, “What was that all about?” 

He said nothing, instead, choosing to grip her hand in his and pull her along until they reached the castle grounds. The fresh air and warmth of the sun did some good in calming Draco down, and the pair was able to make their way silently to a large shady tree. (Y/N), however, couldn’t hide her obvious discomfort as his hand gripped a part of hers that was still sore and cut from her fall.

Of course, Draco noticed. 

He released his grip and gently cradled her injured hand in both of his. As they sat down under the shade of the tree, he pulled out his wand and murmured a quiet episkey. 

“Thanks,” (Y/N) smiled softly at her boyfriend and her newly healed hand, “Now are you going to tell me what happened back there?” 

“Just some idiot running his mouth and pissing me off,” He shrugged, “Nothing to worry about.” 

“Draco,” She warned, “C’mon tell me, so I know what to say in your defense when people start to talk.” 

“Fuck what everyone else thinks! I wasn’t about to let some prick badmouth you and talk about making you cry. Not when I know you’ve had a rough couple of days and when I can get it into his thick skull that I’ll always be around to protect you.” 

He had gotten so worked up that he threw his arms up and ran a hand through his hair, not noticing that her eyes widened and for the first time that day, the tears escaped her eyes. 

“Oh Draco,” (Y/N) breathed, sending him a wobbly and wet smile. 

“Oh no you’re crying,” He mumbled, pulling her into his arms, “Don’t cry. I won’t punch him again if that’s what you want. Or I could punch him some more for you, the prick deserves it” 

A soft laugh escaped from her lips as she snuggled closer to him, basking in his warmth, “No, I just can’t believe you were defending my honor. Who knew the Draco Malfoy was such a softie underneath it all.” 

He just shook his head and tightened his grip on her. He would do anything if it meant being able to have (Y/N) in his arms, safe and happy.��

[sirowsky]

Driving Mr. Tovar

Chapter 13 - Betrayal

Description: You're forced to draw on every bit of knowledge you have about self-defense, when a man tries to abduct you from the estate. Meanwhile, Pero is happily planning a voluptuous night.

Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Warnings: Pero x female reader, cursing, allusions to past domestic violence, mild sexual content, graphic descriptions of violence, blood, weaponry, and physical assault. Enraged Pero. Includes involuntary manslaughter. Word count: 5500 Masterlist (this story) Author’s Masterlist

   Pero was smiling like an idiot while he worked.    He couldn’t fathom how a man like him had been given entry into this heaven that was your love and closeness and acceptance.    He didn’t have the faintest idea, but he’d take it, all the same.

   Your little reactions to his playful bite had told him so much, and feeling you tug on his hair, inching him closer to your core, wanting him to pleasure you… oh, he could have stripped you right there and buried his face between your thighs for the rest of the day.    He tried not to hurry, not to get sloppy with his work just because he missed you, which proved to be a lot more difficult than it sounded.

   Once it came time to caring for the horses, though, some amount of calmness descended on him on pure routine.    He took the time to bring each of the boys inside one by one, to thoroughly look them over and make sure they really were fine after that morning’s scare. Then he diligently tended to King’s cut, which thankfully seemed to be on the mend again.

   “Take it easy now, pendejo. Let yourself heal. You’re as bad as my Angel at looking after yourself,” he lovingly admonished while he caressed the horse’s neck and then moved up to his head. “You’ll take good care of her tomorrow, yes? She’ll need you to be gentle, no pushing her around. Entiendes, amigo mío?”

   King was unusually still, clipping his ears a bit, but not trying to nip or tug at anything, not even trying to lick his hands.

   “Are you alright, chico? What bothers you, hm?”

   The horse hummed a little at him, and restlessly shifted his weight, but Pero couldn’t tell what he might be nervous about.    The black was the leader and protector of his herd, so the sudden appearance of the helicopter would’ve left him in a kind of ready-mode, anticipating more trouble until enough time had passed for him to be reassured that the threat was permanently gone.    So, Pero ignored the unusual behavior and took him back out with the others.

   Once finished with the horses, he quickly prepared some things for the supply-ride the next day, just to make sure that he had everything you’d need, and then made his way back to his house.    When he’d left you at dinner, he’d been fucking buzzing with excitement, because he knew that tonight would be the night.

   You’d been exchanging touches and kisses all day, and he was dying to do more, finally certain that you’d want him to.    His hands were tingling with the prospect of exploring your skin, testing your sensitivities and desires, and his core was warm and filled with a yearning he’d never known before.    He didn’t just want you, he wanted to be with you, to mean something to you, even physically. And now, there was finally time.

   “Belleza?”

   He walked into the house and eagerly called for you, but there was no response, and the rooms were all quiet.    He checked your room and bathroom, and even his own, just in case you were waiting to surprise him or something, but you weren’t there.    Walking back into the living room, he looked at the clock on the wall.

20:17

   You were probably still having fun up at the house, but he wanted as much time with you as he could get, so he decided to go and find you. The others could make whatever they wanted of him dragging you away, you’d both waited long enough.    But as he walked into the dining room of the main house, he was stunned to find it completely empty. The dishes had already been put away, and a glance into the kitchen told him that even Doris was already done for the day.

   Dread began to creep through him, with icy tendrils of fear digging their claws into his spine and abdomen.    A sinking feeling that something was horribly wrong.    He didn’t know exactly why he was quickly becoming convinced that you were in trouble, he just felt like something was… off.

   He slowly walked through the room, back over into the ballroom, turning his head, scanning his surroundings as he went, and his eyes fell on something poking out from underneath a trolley that always stood parked against a wall in the ballroom.    Kneeling down to look closer, he immediately recognized the butt of a handle on a pistol, and picked it up.

   He would’ve heard it if it had been fired, the house and stables weren’t so far apart that a sound like that wouldn’t carry across, and he’d heard plenty of gunshots in his life to be able to distinguish even a distant or muffled one.    Suddenly, King’s nervousness took on a different meaning to him. Had the horse somehow sensed that something bad was happening?

   There was something familiar about the weapon, though. Something in the back of his mind that wouldn’t quite come into view, but he didn’t have time to ponder on it right now.    He shoved it down the back of his pants, whirled around and headed back to the front entrance, but then something glinted in his periphery, in the living room on the other side of the hall.

   He moved as though time had slowed down, as his mind tried to force his body not to approach it, not to reveal what he was about to find, because he already knew.    It wasn’t really visible from the hallway, there was an armchair in the way, but as he stepped around it, shards of glass came into view, and then a broken frame, and the picture it had held.

   Someone had torn it from the wall, and thrown or bashed it against someone else, and he just knew that it was you.    That you’d been attacked and fought your attacker with whatever happened to be closest.    There was shattered glass all over the Persian rug that took up most of the center of the room, and lots of twinkling little pieces on the wood floors leading back to the hall.

   But the thing that made his body freeze, and his mind turn to its very darkest corner, was the blood.    At least half a liter of it, pooled on the floor with an equal amount littered around the immediate area.

   And in the middle of the scene, a large shard was laying on top of the rest. Either dropped or discarded after someone had used it to stab someone else.    It hadn’t been stained with blood, but rather inserted into it.    Pero had seen more than enough blood-soaked blades to know the difference, but he had no way of knowing if you or your attacker had been the one wielding it.

   He forced a breath into his lungs, unfreezing himself, and stepped out of the house, scanning the ground outside.    Since you were nowhere to be seen, he had to assume that you’d been taken. And whomever had taken you, one of you were bleeding and it was fresh, so he’d be able to trace it in the fading daylight.

   He found a surprisingly small amount of blood on the driveway towards the garage, suggesting that the wound must’ve been wrapped.    But none of the cars were missing, so it was probably a false trail. More likely, you’d been taken out into the woods behind the building.

   Passion, lust, want, wishes, hopes, desires… everything faded and became unimportant, as the relentless need to know that you were alive pushed everything else aside.    Rage, fear, determination, and pure fucking bloodlust directed at anyone who dared to put their filthy hands on you, flooded his body and brain.

   Gone was the softness that you’d awoken in him. The inexperienced, careful and tentative man that didn’t want his hands to be used for violence anymore, and instead only for pleasuring you.    Gone was the hope that he could be a better man. A man worthy of you.

   Now, all that remained was the man that would rip out throats and cut open veins and bellies, break bones and not even flinch as grown men screamed like pigs being dragged to slaughter.    And he used it.

   He fed that monster with his thoughts, filled himself with images of the worst possible scenarios that he could imagine had caused the scene in the living room.    Because for Pero, rage didn’t cloud his brain or make him incapable of logical thinking. It focused him. When he had a target to hit, it was rage that aimed him.

   He ran from the main house back to his own and his weapons, to prepare himself.    He left the pistol among his surplus of knives, daggers and other blades, since he didn’t use firearms and wouldn’t be aided by it.    But it was evidence, and he kept trying to figure out why it was so familiar. It was infuriatingly close to his conscious mind but refused to come into the light.

   And all the while he kept trying not to picture your face, the way you’d undoubtedly look at him when he found you.    Because he knew that you’d be frightened of him again, that this darkness you’d only seen hints of before, would be too much for someone of your past experiences.    You’d finally see the real monster inside of him, and this time, you’d turn away.

   But he could live with that, so long as you survived. If only he didn’t have to touch your body when it was lifeless and cold and didn’t have to see your eyes without finding your bright and brave soul within them.    As he took off into the woods on foot, swords on his back and daggers along his sides, he knew that this wouldn’t be a search.

   This was a hunt.    And the only way that his prey was gonna live through the night, was if you were already dead. Because if you were, he’d have no reason to hurry. No reason to kill quickly.    He’d take his time. Watch them bleed and suffer at his all too capable hands, for as long as he could make it last.

-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-

   For the first time in your life, you were glad that you’d never known “normal”.    That pain and fear had become your normal, that you’d been tested, really tested, before this moment, because otherwise you might not have had the courage to move.

   The first time that your asshole ex, Richard, had hit you, you’d been so stunned, so completely and utterly shocked.    You’d just laid there on the bed as he’d torn your clothes off, trying to understand what you’d done wrong. And it had taken you months to learn that it wasn’t about what you did or didn’t do, say or didn’t say, because it wasn’t about you at all.

   Some men just liked to hear women scream in pain, to feel their bodies tense and want to fight them.    Some men were just evil.    You didn’t yet know if this was one of them, but you had to assume so, anyway.

   The moment your brain registered that you were in danger, it wanted to move.    That was the payoff of your experience; the instinct to move, not as far away as possible, but as damagingly as possible.    To make every move count.

   There was a large vase on a pedestal at the base of the stairs, but even though you were facing it, with the threat behind you, the vase was too far away, and you had no idea how heavy and cumbersome it would be to wield.    You had nothing on you except your phone and reaching for that wouldn’t help you right now.

   But he was close.    The sound of the gun was right behind your head, so his arm had to be too, and your only hope of getting the upper hand was if you managed to disarm him.    All of this passed through your mind in the space of just one second.    And then you moved.

   You didn’t allow yourself another moment to think, because you knew that it would only invite doubts, and make you question your instincts.    You spun to the side, flinging your arm out hard and fast behind you, not even registering the pain as it collided with his, pushing it away from you, and giving you the opportunity to go for his solar plexus.

   Two broken fingers after you’d punched Richard in the head once, had taught you not to ever go for the head if you wanted to maintain the use of your hands during or after a fight.    The involuntary physical response made him double over, and you seized the opportunity to try and snatch his gun, but he was still holding it too tightly, so you quickly switched tactics, taking a step back and raising your leg to kick at his hand instead.

   That worked but it sent the gun hurtling into the ballroom, out of sight, and you couldn’t afford the time it would take to go looking for it. So, you spun on your toes, heading in the opposite direction, towards the living room, aiming for Mr. Rose’s office.    But your assailant had recovered enough to move by then, and you only got a few steps into the common area before he caught up to you, grabbing you by the neck and trying to force you down on the floor.

   Knowing that if he managed to pin you down, you’d be defenseless, you followed your gut and twisted your entire body sharply to the side.    Utilizing his own forward momentum against him, you forced him to waste energy trying to stop himself from hitting the floor. But he managed to grab your wrist as you twisted, which meant that you couldn’t get away from him.

   In your maneuver you’d made a 180-degree turn, which sent you back towards the front hall, and on the wall leading up to it, there were two large photographs in metal frames.    Your strength was beginning to fail, and even with the excess adrenaline, you were still weaker than a man.    Simply put, you’d never be able to get away from your attacker without a weapon.

   So, you grabbed one of the photographs before the man could pull you away from the wall, and without pausing you hurled it at him like it was a baseball bat.    He saw it coming and turned his shoulder into it, and the resulting collision made the glass explode and scatter across the floor, while a large shard lodged itself into the man’s upper arm, making him growl with pain.

   But he still managed to keep a firm grip on your wrist, and you knew that you were running out of time.    Desperate, you reached for the shard, closing your hand around the sharp edges, praying that the bandages would be enough to keep it from cutting you, before pushing it deeper into the man’s flesh.

   Blood poured out over your hand, so you knew that you’d hit an artery, and then you yanked the shard loose just as a fist connected to your temple, and everything went black.

------

   When you came to, you were being carried, slung across the man’s unharmed shoulder, staring at what little you could make out of the ground behind him, as he made his way through the woods in what was almost total darkness.    You didn’t dare to give him any indication that you’d woken up, since being in this position actually gave you quite the upper hand.

   Also, you needed to let your mind clear and the worst of the burning and throbbing ache on the side of your head ebb out, before you made another attempt to fight.    Your hands and feet were bound together, but you could still harm, or even kill him, if the right set of circumstances came to pass.

   The rocking motion of his movements meant that you could turn your head carefully to the sides to try and get some sense of your surroundings.    But you couldn’t see any lights anywhere, so you must’ve already walked far enough away from the house for the trees to obscure the floodlights.    Great.

   That meant that even if you got away from him, or even killed him, you’d have no way of knowing which direction to go to find help.    But you were pretty sure that you were still on the main estate, which worked in your favor. Because any direction you might choose would eventually lead you to the wall, which you could follow to the entrance.

   Still, tied up, most likely suffering a concussion, and having nothing to light your way in the pitch-black darkness, (he had to have discarded your phone by now) your chances were slim.    Even so, you were better off trying your luck with fighting him, since you had good survival skills and a runner’s stamina. And you had no way of knowing what was waiting for you, once he got to where he was going.

   To your mind, it was equally likely that he was alone, as it was that he was on his way to meet up with someone. But if it was the latter, then you were really in trouble.    You had a marginal chance of saving yourself against one assailant, but not two or more. You had to risk another fight.

   He’d tied something around his upper arm to control the bleeding, but it would still be incredibly sore, and that was something you could certainly use to your advantage, if he got the upper hand on you again.    Using all your strength, you kicked your knees forwards into his chest, while simultaneously heaving your torso upwards.

   The swift movement earned you a mean flurry of searing pain shooting through your whole head, which you managed to ignore only by way of pure survival instinct.    Since that move put your elbows in line with his shoulders, you quickly put one arm on either side of his head, using the fact that your hands were tied together to turn them into a source of leverage.

   Before he could react, you threw all your weight backwards, forcing him to topple over forwards, and while that meant that he landed on top of you, it also meant that he was completely off balance.    His hands automatically let go of you to try and break his fall, so the moment that your back hit the ground, you thanked Mother Nature for not putting a back-breaking root or rock right where you landed, pulled your arms up and then used both hands as a battering-ram against his skull.

   Repeated, hard blows to the very top of his head soon had him disoriented, blindly waving at you to make it stop, so you pushed your knees up to force him off of you, but he was still too dangerous for you to dare to start working on the knot around your feet.    You needed to either completely incapacitate or kill him, but you didn’t have it in you to just beat a man to death.

   You’d killed your ex by driving one of those thin long meat thermometers through his ear and into his brain, but that had happened on impulse.    It was in your hand as you passed behind him and it was just… too much. He’d been hurting you every day for so long, it just had to end.    This man and his motives were unknown to you. But he was trying to abduct you, and you had to stop him.

   You didn’t have a choice.

   You rolled towards him, letting your hands search the ground along the way, looking for a rock big enough to do some damage, but finding only soft moss.    That left you with only one card to play. And even now, when you were fighting for your life, bile rose in your throat at the thought of what you were gonna have to do, as you clumsily wormed your way after him.

   His coordination was completely disabled, leaving him unable to effectively execute any complex movement. Even crawling.    You located the injury in his arm and dug your fingers into the large gash, only lightly covered with a cloth of some kind, ignoring his confused efforts to stop you while you worked on removing the other strip of fabric that he’d used to tie it off.

   He was so disoriented that he couldn’t focus or direct his limbs properly, and it made you feel even worse about what you were doing.    But your efforts paid off when you suddenly felt a rush of warm liquid spill over your hands as the bleeding started up again, even worse than before.    You knew that a bleeding that bad would quickly make him anemic, and with his overall condition in that moment, you decided that he was now sufficiently incapacitated for you to dare to work on your bindings.

   Your fingers were slippery with the blood, and you had to constantly swallow to keep from throwing up as you listened to the man moan in pain and exhaustion, somewhere to your right, knowing that you’d already killed him.    You’d just gotten your feet free, when something hard and cold poked at the back of your shoulder, and you froze.

   “What the fuck is going on here, Jack? This little woman got the better of you? Since when are you this sloppy?” a deep male voice mocked from behind you.

   He was bringing you to reinforcements. Shit.    The man you’d just effectively killed, tried to answer his friend, but all that came out was a garbled mess, and the man behind you got angry.

   “What the hell did you do to him, bitch?”

   You knew that it wouldn’t help to answer him, so you just stayed still and kept your mouth shut, as he pushed what you assumed was a weapon, even harder into your shoulder.    But then a second voice spoke up, and you heard someone move towards the man on the ground. Jack.

   “Looks like she bashed his head in, and this cut is arterial. He’ll be dead in less than a minute,” the second, older and smoother voice deduced.

   The man behind you pulled the weapon away from you, and you heard the tell-tale sound of a pump-action shotgun being loaded, and then felt the cold steel of the barrel being pushed against the back of your head.

-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-

   He’d opted not to bring a flashlight and allow his eyes to adjust to the darkness instead. He knew these woods like the back of his hand, and so long as you were kept inside the wall, he’d be able to anticipate where you’d most likely be taken.    From what little tracks he’d been able to find by the garage, he estimated that you were being brought to the caves on the south edge of the property, and he made his way there as the crow fly.

   He kept his thoughts firmly directed at the threat, trying to figure out their motives and intentions, and keeping himself well away from any thoughts concerning what they might do to you, since that made it difficult to breathe.    The rage was useful, whereas fear was only crippling, so he stuck to the images of the fight at the house, since he knew that you’d probably survived that.

   It was strange that they’d take you, though. The person who’d been there for only a week and didn’t know much about Mr. Rose or his work yet. Certainly not enough to be of any use if it was information they were after.    Even if they were looking to hurt Sam, you were still the last person that they should be focusing on.

   Unless they knew about you and Pero. About how much you’d come to matter to him.    Suddenly, he was wondering if this could be about using you to get to him. To coerce him into doing something to Sam.    But, only the staff on the estate knew how much Rose valued him. To the rest of the world, Tovar was just another member of his security. A bit strange, sure, but nothing special.

   He slowed his movements when his thoughts took him in a daunting direction.    The helicopter had breached the wall without immediately tripping the alarms, suggesting a perpetrator that was familiar with the system, to some extent.    It had then immediately left, without causing any harm, but prompting Rose and his security to leave the premises in order to apprehend the culprit.

   A culprit which had been very easily identified.    Then someone had snatched you from the fucking house, meaning that it had to be someone that had access to the estate somehow.    He came to a complete stop as the memory that had evaded him since he’d discovered that pistol on the floor, suddenly came into view behind his eyes.

   Arthur.

   Of the six people employed as Mr. Rose’s security staff, you’d only met Brix, Shaggy and Hero.    The other three were Croc, Jack… and Arthur. He was the first of them, the very first person that Sam hired for his security, his most trusted ally in all things concerning his company and safety.

   On the ten-year anniversary of his employment, Sam had gifted him the fucking gun that had been used to abduct you.    Pero had only seen it that one time, still sitting in that wooden box, encased in blue velvet, which was why the memory had been so distant.

   A rage unlike anything he’d ever experienced flooded his entire being at the realization.    It was already an abhorrent thing for some random enemy to decide to use an innocent bystander to further their agenda, but a fucking ally? A friend?!    He didn’t care what Arthur’s agenda was, the man was going to die tonight. He’d expended his right to live on the same planet as you the moment that he became involved in this, no matter how it happened or whatever god damned excuses he’d made up for himself.

   When he started moving again, the rage had somehow doubled, sending him sprinting recklessly fast through the darkness. But his eyes were well adjusted by now, and he trusted his knowledge of these woods, as well as his instincts, explicitly.    And it was only a few minutes later that he slowed again, as sounds reached him from up ahead. Voices.

   Shifting from focusing on speed, to moving silently and staying out of sight, he started closing in, struggling badly with the need to just rush in and start slicing people to bits, as he heard those voices getting louder with anger.

   “…doesn’t help. He’s dead, let’s just get out of here.”

   “She fucking killed him!”

   “He got sloppy, let it go. We need her.”

   As he got closer, the voices became clearer, and he recognized them as Arthur and Croc.    He assumed that the dead person they spoke of was Jack, since he was just about the only person in the world that Croc liked.    The three of them had been a team for seven years, focused mainly on the protection of the estate, but also regularly travelling with Rose whenever he needed extra security around him, or filling in for the others when they got sick or injured.

   While Hero, Shaggy and Brix were expertly trained in personal protection, hand-to-hand combat and small weaponry, these guys were experts on terrain, vehicles, long-range weaponry, stealth and reconnaissance.    Pero couldn’t be sure in the dark, but he assumed that they were using night-vision equipment to orient themselves, since there were no flashlights around them.

   They weren’t as used to moving in the darkness as he was. At least, not without the aid of technical advancement.    He regularly took the horses out for rides after nightfall, to train them to trust their footing, as well as acclimatize his own eyes and brain to the disorientation of moving without seeing the ground underneath one’s feet, or even one’s own limbs.

   But if they were relying on modern technology, he would be entirely visible to them when he approached, since there wasn’t much underbrush to hide in.    So, he had to be careful, and move only when their focus was elsewhere.    He stepped from tree to tree, staying hidden as well as he could, hoping there were no small branches under his feet that would snap and give away his movements.

   “I don’t need this little cunt! Why don’t I just cut open your pretty little belly and watch your guts spill out of you, right here?” Croc practically spat the words at you, but Arthur was level-headed, as always.

   “Stop it, Croc. Remember the goal here.”

   “The goal is survival. Always,” the younger man growled. “She took Jack, so I’m taking something back.”

   Your scream was sudden, equal parts shock and pain, and it seemed to fill the air around the whole area, as though the trees amplified it, carried it between them like some bizarre alarm system.

   No longer able to give a shit about staying hidden, Pero flew out of his hiding-place behind a large fir, slipping a dagger from his side as he moved. But he needed to get closer before he could use it, to make sure that you weren’t in his line of fire.    Arthur was standing a few yards away from where Croc had you pinned against the trunk of a pine, and for the moment, Pero’s sole priority was you.

   So, he launched the dagger at Arthur without breaking his stride or reducing his speed. And in his periphery, he registered that it buried itself in the man’s torso, on his right side, but he didn’t stop to finish the job.    Realizing that something was happening, Croc whirled around with a large hunting knife in his hands, just as Pero got to him.

   He saw the blood that stained the blade, and how you dropped to the ground as Croc released you, and something cold crept up his spine, something dreading the possibilities.    But he didn’t have time to linger on that.    Using his forward momentum, and the surprise of his sudden appearance, he barreled into Croc at full speed, hurtling him backwards past the tree you’d been pinned to.

   He then allowed his momentum to keep him rolling forwards after the man was down, which meant that the bigger man never managed to get a hold on him.    That left him free to immediately dive back towards you, so that he could shield you with his body as he drew both swords from their sheaths.

   Croc scrambled to his feet with a growl of contempt and anger that Pero had heard many times before. He was broad-shouldered and muscular, but no taller than the Spaniard, and nowhere near as fast.    He’d dropped the knife somewhere among the blueberry shrubs and moss, but it wouldn’t help him against swords anyway.

   “Tovar, wait! You don’t understand…” Arthur grumbled, sounding wheezy and weak.

   “I do not need to, tontopollas,” he spit back through his teeth, barely even able to form a sentence with the force of all the rage that coursed through him.

   But Arthur persisted.

   “She was never supposed to be harmed, but Jack underestimated her capabilities.    We just needed her… in order to keep you out of the picture.”

   That caught his attention even through the hatred.    A picture, a larger scale.    Just what was going here?

   “What have you done?” he growled at the older man, while Arthur’s breathing got louder and more strained.

   “I don’t agree with my employer’s decisions anymore… He’s grown arrogant and callous…    His inventions and computers… aren’t gonna save the world… only make it harder to understand.”

   Then the dagger in his side finally brought him to his knees.    It was in all likelihood buried deep inside his liver, having punctured his lung too. A fatal injury this far from medical aid.    But as Arthur slowly lowered himself, Croc reached for the shotgun that he’d left on the ground earlier, in order to torture you with the knife.

   Pero was too far away to stop him, and he didn’t have time to swap a sword for a dagger, before Croc had already picked the weapon up and aimed it towards him.

   “Arthur…” he called, keeping his eyes on his target. “Talk to me, man.”

   “I… won’t make it,” the older man replied with a resigned sigh, having already accepted his death.

   Pero watched that information sink into Croc’s mind, and he could see how the man simply lost any remaining reason for restraint.    His eyes may have been hidden by the darkness and the night-vision goggles, but even so, Pero could see that there was nothing but hate in his frame, as he swung the barrel of the shotgun at you.

>>>>>>>>>> <<<<<<<<<<

Link to Chapter 14

Thank you for reading, and if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging. I would dearly appreciate it <3

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[shanastoryteller]

how different do you think the story would be if draco malfoy had been picked as the hogwarts champion?

draco doesn’t know how this happened, and he’s pissed off in between being terrified. he stands up, nose in the air, and walks to the front of the great hall, taking his place between fleur and viktor. 

he expects them to look thrilled. if he’s the hogwarts champion, they’re going to have an easy time of it, but instead the both of them just look concerned. he’s been talking with both of them, friendly with both of them, because he’s not an idiot, he knows what power looks like. 

he knows what it isn’t, and it’s him. he’s smart, and strong, but he’s a fourth year and even with all the spells he’s not supposed to know, he doesn’t have the easy, solid presence of viktor of fleur, people who are not only powerful but know how to wield their power, unlike potter who just stumbles around accidentally defeating monsters with that stupid confused look on his face. 

then, as if this whole situation isn’t bad enough all on it’s own, the goblet spits out one more name. 

harry potter. 

of course. draco doesn’t know what he expected, really. 

severus yells. his parents make an awful lot of scary threats that he knows they’re prepared to deliver on. his aunt floos over from the magical artifacts office to try and declare the goblet faulty, but it’s not use. 

his name came out of the goblet, so he has to compete. 

he can’t help but notice, however, that no one yells on behalf of potter, no one comes to his defense in the face of this ridiculous task they’re supposed to complete, not even dumbledore, even though potter’s supposed to be some sort of golden boy. it seems, maybe, that everyone’s forgotten along the way that he’s a kid too. 

that night his parents send him a package, and he rolls his eyes because he hasn’t worn something like this since he was a kid, but it’s not like he doesn’t understand the rational behind it. he slips the dainty silver ring on his middle finger, and makes a mental note to fidget with it. 

~

his housemates rally around him when he gets back, faces solemn, quiet as severus towers behind him. 

he sighs, rubbing his hand over his face. “well,” he says, “are we going to win this or not?” 

a slytherin is the hogwarts champion. he can’t get out of it, so he’s going to win it, he’s going to rub silver and green in the face of everyone who’s ever looked at him sideways because of his house. 

over a hundred eager smiles meet him. if he succeeds, all of slytherin succeeds, and so all of slytherin is going to help him. 

~

he finds out about the dragons from Flora, who’s cousin is an intern in the department of magical creatures. snape ropes his newts level slytherins into devising a sleeping potion powerful enough to take out a dragon, and cassius drills him in manipulating the bubblehead charm until he’s exhausted and his fingers ache and lungs hurt. pansy promises to carry the potion with her on the day of the first task so draco can cast a simple summoning charm to get it from her in the stands. 

the day of the first task, he summons the potion, casts a giant bubblehead charm around them, then a smaller one on himself, and smashes the potion in the center of the dragon’s forehead. it roars, and blue mist surrounds them, and then there’s a thunderous crash as the dragon falls to the ground, asleep. draco cautiously darts forward to collect the golden egg, darts away, and casts a dissipation spell before ending both bubblehead charms and running as far away from angry, sleep muddled dragon as he can get. 

he thinks it’s a pretty impressive display until potter flies around the horntail, outflying and out maneuvering her, and coming away victorious with the golden egg tucked under his arm. 

the second task seems to throw everyone for a loop. even severus looks perplexed by the screaming egg, and nearly his whole house writes their parents and uncles and cousins for advice. 

it all ends up being worthless.

everyone’s huddled around the egg in the common room, and there’s a pounding sound. draco closes the egg and they all look out the window, which of course leads out to the great lake.they are in the dudgeon after all. 

there’s a merperson, young based on the pattern of their scales, who’s pointing towards the egg, and them pointing towards themselves, then gives an approximation of a wink and swims away. 

marcus flint, of all people, is the one who figures it out. “water,” he says, “listen to it under water. it’s a mermaid singing.” 

his prefect takes him to the baths, and him and as many people as they can cram in there listen to the egg sing it’s pretty song. there’s some debate about what the merpeople will take, with vincent suggesting all his hair products and daphne offering up his broom, but it doesn’t actually matter what it is, because what they take doesn’t change what he has to do, which is get it back from them. 

severus offers gillyweed, adrien pucey says that draco might as well take advantage of the bubblehead charm he already knows, and theo, who is terrifying and brilliant, says it’s too bad he doesn’t have the durmstrang ship. 

they all go quiet, and severus stands up and says that he can’t hear this, then leaves, “hear what?” theo asks, blinking, and marla, who’s already been accepted to cairo’s curse breaking graduate program, leans forward, eyes bright, and starts coming up with a plan. 

then draco finds out they’re taking people, not things, and that’s just not on. 

they’ve taken his cousin. 

“luna lovegood?” potter asks, confused, because he’s an idiot, and draco ignores him. 

the stakes are suddenly much higher. he doesn’t think they’d actually let the hostages get seriously hurt for this contest, but intentions don’t mean much to him right now. 

the other three champions go bolting into the water. draco turns and goes the other direction. 

everyone’s in the stands, so the durmstrang ship is completely empty. people must be figuring out what he’s doing, because there’s some angry yelling, but stealing a ship isn’t against the rules, so. he does just as marla told him to, and he doesn’t know what and who she had to do to get this information, but he’s too grateful to question it. he steps to the captain’s helm, activates the underwater mode, and the boat sinks into the great lake.

steering is extremely difficult and requires more upper body strength than he’s thrilled with, but he’s surrounded by a pocket of air as the ship zooms past the other contestants, so he doesn’t care all that much. he throws up the shield to barrel through the line of merpeople acting as a barrier. he uses a severing spell to cut the ropes and summons luna into the ship. as soon as he crosses the barrier, into the air, she gasps awake, and he carefully sets her on her feet. 

“cousin!” she greets, smiling. “headmaster dumbledore said that i would be thing you most sorely miss. that means you like me, right?” 

“wrong,” he says gruffly, flicking her radish earring. “i love you, but i don’t like you, you’re weird and annoying.” 

she just keeps smiling at him, eyebrows raised, and uhg, this is the worst, she’ll never leave him alone now. “well,” she says, “we are related, after all.” 

“hey!” he says, but she only giggles. 

they should be leaving, he’s gotten here first and he can get back first, with his cousin in tow. 

but. 

what if something happens to the others after he leaves? viktor and fleur will be so upset if something happens to their girlfriend and little sister, and well, it’s not like harry will be any fun to poke fun at if he’s busy mourning his best friend. 

he can’t just say that though, and it’s not like he’s willing to come in last just to make sure everything gets back okay. 

“cousin?” luna asks, head tilted to the side. 

“shut up,” he says, and taps his wand on his hand. 

he transforms three wooden dummies with the hostages respective names carved into their chest, then right below it adds early bird captures all the prizes, xoxo draco and swaps them out, although he has to keep the ships shield’s activated while he does because the merpeople are pissed. 

gabrielle huddles into luna’s side, who speaks even less french than gabrielle does english, but draco’s too busy steering the ship to play translator. 

granger and weasley stand next to each other, staring at him like they’ve never seen him before, and he really wishes they’d stop looking at him. “what?” he snaps. “i just - i’m just trying to - to make them angry, is all.” 

“right,” weasley says, eyebrows pushed together. he and granger share a look. draco doesn’t know what it means, but he hates it. 

“oh, piss off,” he grumbles as the ship breaks the surface. 

the durmstrang students are clustered near the shore. their headmaster looks pissed, but all the students are laughing, so draco doesn’t feel too bad about the whole thing. 

viktor and potter bring back their wooden figures, and fleur stops crying and kisses him on both cheeks when she realizes draco’s gotten her sister. potter hugs granger and weasley, and the three of them keep looking at him. 

draco gets nines across the board, with each judge deducting a point for stealing, which he doesn’t think is fair. no one said stealing wasn’t allowed after all. 

~

the third task happens, and everything goes wrong. viktor attacks him, and later he finds fleur unconscious and sends up red sparks for her. he ends up fighting back to back with potter, which is hell, and the golden trophy is across from them. he and potter look at each other, for a moment completely still, and then they both go running. draco’s so close, he’s not going to let harry win this, even if the whole thing does seem a bit unfair what with viktor having lost his mind and attacking fleur, but draco’s not about to be a hufflepuff about this. 

because there’s no justice in this world, they grab it at the same time. 

draco’s used a portkey plenty of times, and it doesn’t disorient him. he lands on his feet with his wand out, and pointed right at a man with overly large front teeth. 

a crackly voice says, “kill the-”

draco doesn’t wait around for him to finish that sentence. “stupefy!” 

the stunning spell works, and the man falls to the ground with a loud crunch  that would be concerning if draco cared. “malfoy?” potter mutters, finally getting to his feet, looking too pale and green around the edges. his hand is pressed against his forehead. “i-i think something is wrong. we should leave.” 

“malfoy,” that same crackly voice says, and draco leans forward cautiously. “good, good. lucius’s boy. you’ll finish this, then.” 

cradled in the man’s stupified arms is a scaly creature about the size of a large toddler with beady red eyes. 

draco’s hit with overwhelming wave of revulsion, with wrongness, that he’s never felt before and can’t explain. “I-I,” he pauses, stepping back, and in front of potter, who still looks like he’s going to be sick at any moment. he keeps his wand out, but uses his other hand to twist the ring around his middle finger three times. 

“pick me up,” the thing commands, “we have work to do. i need your flesh.” 

oh, merlin above. 

there’s two pops, and then his parents are here, following the distress signal sent off by his ring. 

“mum, dad,” he says, taking another stumbling step back, finally able to breath when they step in front of him, wands raised, “that’s - i think,” he pauses, “that’s the - the dark lord.” then, because he wants them to make informed decisions, “he tried to kill me.” 

“did he,” his mother says, voice icy. his father sighs, like he already knows what’s coming, but makes no move to stop it. “avada kedavra.” 

there’s a flash of green light, and when draco peeks around his father’s shoulder, the scaly creature is unmoving. 

“dear,” lucius says mildly. 

narcissa turns, holding out her arm, and draco tucks himself against his mother’s side. “yes darling? surely you didn’t really want to get involved in this mess again. and,” her voice drops, “he tried to hurt our son.” 

“yes, of course,” he says, reaching out a hand to brush it through draco’s hair, “but keep in mind there are plenty of people who will want explanations of what just occurred. he’s not actually dead, you know.” 

his mother hums, “well, i suppose we’re changing sides.” 

lucius frowns, but it’s not like he’s going to argue with narcissa, so he says, “very well.” 

“um,” potter says, and the three of them turn to look at him, “what?” 

“that’s a portkey then?” lucius asks, looking to the trophy on the ground. daring, “i’ll handle things here, you go back with the boys. surely there’s someone who set this up waiting for whoever returns.” 

“uh,” potter says, “er, sorry, i just - can we take pettigrew too? he - i can use him to clear my godfather’s name, is all.” 

his parents both make a face like they’ve smelled something rotten, and his mother sighs. “i suppose dealing with sirius is one of the many prices we’ll pay for switching sides. very well. petrificus totalus! wingardium leviosa!” the mans stunned body rises, and voldemorts’ pathetic corpse falls with a dull thump. she looks expectantly towards them. “ready?” 

potter shoots him a desperate look, but if he’s looking for draco to explain his mother, he’ll be waiting for a long time. draco had given up on that by the time he turned five. he wonders if all this means that he and potter will actually manage to be friends. 

“come on, potter,” he holds out his hand, “mum’s probably going to kill at least one more person tonight, so best not to start questioning things now.” 

“at least two, if i get my hands on dumbledore,” she sniffs, grabbing draco’s other hand so she can travel with them by portkey. 

potter looks down at his outstretched hand, then back up, and only hesitates a moment more before taking it. “call me harry. isn’t ant of this, you know, weird for you?” 

draco shrugs. “we’re wizards, harry. weirdness is relative, don’t you think?” 

harry’s just grabbed the portkey, so his laughter gets cut off, and draco tries not to mourn the loss. 

hopefully, now he’ll get a chance to hear it again, after all. 

[my-writings-and-musings]

Hello there, I really liked your writing and especially the prompt with enemy forces attack and lack of oxygen! May I ask you to write it with Perceptor and Drift? (Separately, just in case). Thank you in advance!)

Got a ninja boy and a science boy here for you anon!

Got some links to the previous posts for this prompt!

Part One: Here!

Part Two: Here!

Part Three: Here!

Part Four: Here!

Part Five: Here!

Part Six: You're Here!

Part Seven: Here!

Part Eight! Here!

Part Nine: Here!

Part Ten: Here!

Part Eleven: Here!

Part Twelve: Here!

Perceptor

·Your arrival on the ship required him to work with the medics to ensure you could survive on it, and that obviously included working with you quite frequently to gather data, which eventually evolved into you assisting directly as the upgrades were put into place. Though he was initially hesitant to admit your presence was nice and he briefly stalled on finishing the upgrades just to spend more time together, you wore him down enough that he eventually relented and confessed to wanting you around. In the short time since things have come very far, enough so that he freely requests your aid in projects, chatting idly as he makes use of your tiny size and encouraging demeanor.

·This is exactly what you're up to today, though you're in the shooting range as opposed to your usual set up in the lab. While he's more than confident in his ability to handle this experimental weapon, he needs it here for when it's finally tested, and your small hands are ideal for a final stability check. A barely observable feeling in his spark registers as excited pride for you to see the weapon in action, but he keeps that to himself... It's bad enough someone walked in on the two of you holding hands as much as your differing sizes allowed the other day, and he doesn't need any more embarrassment.

·There's still a tiny smile on his face as he takes the first few shots, and the accuracy combined with the little cheer from you makes it impossible to keep it from growing. He's about to remark that this is only the first trial of the adjustable blaster, and thus not inductive of its real potential, when he's interrupted by a garbled communication. As you watch him answer, it's hard to hold back reasurance at the hint of frustration on his face, because you know him well enough to understand he doesn't appreciate the disturbance while trying to show off to you. Perhaps one day you'd let him know how easy he was for you to read.

·Well accustomed to frantic requests for his assistance, Perceptor finds himself unexpectedly surprised when the transmission is nearly inaudible, and the message from the bridge proves to be nothing more than a few broken sentences mentioning crashes and security systems before going dead. Not certain what could possibly be causing the ship he personally inspects to suffer malfunctions but knowing it must be corrected, he immediately plans to set off and get to the bottom of things. Securing the weapon into its holster on his back, he offers his hand to transport you with him, surmising you'll be safest with him at least until they have a better idea of what's going on. Of course he already has some theories, but he never acts without evidence.

·Glad to come along, even if only to help him run through some ideas, you happily take your place in his palm. Being without a vehicular mode means he pretty much had to get accustomed to carrying you everywhere he wanted to take you, as it takes quite a few steps for you to match one of his. Now he rather likes being able to hold you in a way that enables easy conversation, especially because as he walks and looks down to you in his palm and you look up at him with those genuinely fascinated eyes... It's nice. Currently he's listing the usual suspects for spacefaring trouble; solar flares, electric storms, debris collisions, and how none of them seem the likely culprit here for various reasons. You've seen him enter this state of unparalleled focus many times, and can't help but wish the circumstances could be better, because you love seeing him in his element.

·Both of you have a rather unfortunate awakening when a series of tremors pass through the ship and nearly knock him to the floor, something he prevents with quick reflexes that momentarily turn your world dark, a phenomenon you realize in an instant was caused by both of his hands cupping protectively around you. When they part you're left peaking upwards through digits at a somewhat concerned and bashful bot. Affirming you're alright, you watch as he gets moving again in an instant, now in full crisis mode after your little tumble. You know enough to be equally concerned by this turn of events, particularly because spaceships aren't known for their tremors.

·Talking as he walks, he has every one of his sharp senses on full alert for the trouble he knows will be coming, including his sense of touch to keep tabs on your small body in his hands. Being aware of every single potential problem means he knows quite well you could be in danger already. It worries him, to a level of concern he's not accustomed to feeling after experiencing so much combat. You can see the anxiety he's trying so hard to work through. There's a crackle in his spark that bots only have when very on edge, and you're close enough to hear it through his armored chest, spurring you to reach out and lay a hand against the warm metal. For a moment his optics meet your eyes, and at your reassuring smile he seems to regain some measure of calm control. His mind quickly uses that to put together a plan.

·While that tremor very likely came from an anchoring weapon on an enemy vessel, none of that explains the system shutdowns precluding it, and he needs to know the full extent of the threat before he can launch a counterattack. Most bots would need a well established access point to get diagnostics for the whole ship, but thankfully he's a bit more skilled than that. Explaining that he merely needs a workstation with any kind of physical connection to the main network, he begins what he is certain will be a quick search, and while you're delighted by the boost he obviously feels thanks to feeling in control you're a bit too tired to celebrate. Not wanting him to know the stress of the situation is wearing you down, your smile remains steadfast to give him the strength he needs.

·As he predicted, finding something suitable for his needs is a breeze, and he's so distracted by the impending answers he doesn't notice you growing drowsy in his palms. Though the small room is little more than a relay station for routine power inspection, it's perfect for what he has planned, and he places you on a nearby table as he gets to work. Even if your head were clear the flurry of activity he follows with wouldn't make sense. Somehow a motley collection of dust covered components becomes rewired into a humming piece of... something in what feels like minutes, and you absolutely beam with pride to see your partner pulling up the information he needs on a monitor, heavy eyelids lifted by your desire to watch him work more wonders.

·Data starts flowing through his makeshift diagnostic scanner in moments, and Perceptor watches intently as the ship's systems flash their readouts in order, though even he can't keep his expression calm as he all too rapidly puts together the horrifying pieces. They haven't just been boarded; they've been sabotaged. Most of the damage is meant to neuter their defenses and hinder any attempt at an organized counterattack, but one key readout tells him that you in particular are in the most dire need of assistance. The atmospheric generators and oxygen stabilizers he personally optimized for your benefit are going haywire, and the air you need to survive is rapidly being drained from the ship. The sheer size of the vessel, and the ability of its crew to keep the attackers at bay for this long, is the only reason you're still alive. In an instant he's on the move.

·You're cupped in oversized palms just as you realize you were laying down for a nap you didn't know had snuck up on you. Bleary in your head as well as your eyes, you hear him speak in the flat, rapid manner that he only uses when something critical is on the line. While his inflection is clear enough for you to catch his basic meaning, for the life of you it's just not possible to panic as much as you should, and his explanation of a plan doesn't register in the slightest. You know it should, and you feel awful for being so calm while he needs you, but the strength for you to be what he needs just isn't there. There is enough clarity for you to register one thing though, namely how closely he's cradling you to his chest. Such an open display of caring and concern is usually not something you see from him. A part of you rather likes it.

·Cold fear that he's come quite unaccustomed to creeps through him as he takes off through the ship. The medical bay is his ideal destination, as he helped create the human catered medical equipment already there, but he knows that time being of the essence means he has to plan for every possible situation, including those far from ideal. What matters is getting you oxygen, fast. The data on human biology made it impossibly clear; every minute without adequate oxygen is critical. Horrifying possibilities run through his mind, the diagrams of cell death he memorized almost taunting him as you appear to grow weaker with every passing breath. Feelings he'd long since forgotten, powerlessness and grief, eat away at him as he internally bemoans his lack of an altmode.

·You feel incredibly guilty as he grows more panicked, but sleep beckons far too strongly for you to resist it long. There's a part of you that knows his incredibly brilliant mind struggles when he doesn't feel in control, to the point he breaks reality at times to regain that handle on the world around him. So seeing you like this and being unable to do much in the moment... no doubt it's tearing him apart. Words don't come easy at the moment, and in fact you realize there's no way to form them at all, but still you try to reassure him. There's so much panic in the spark he holds you beside, and you do everything you can to convey that none of this is his fault. Gently splaying your fingers over the warm metal, you feel the world around you become little more than a blur.

·For a moment the path before him is filled with enemies. He nearly barrels into them rounding a corner, but not a moment is wasted once he has a full count of their number. One hand cradling you protectively, his other grabs the weapon he'd been testing with you before, and the still recovering alien soldiers become nothing more than an impromptu accuracy test. Even for him the precise carnage that follows is unimaginable. A series of heads jerk backwards before hulking bodies go limp, and in mere moments the threat is little more than a pile of confused looking corpses, but there's no time to celebrate. He's off with the weapon in hand for any future attacks.

·You hear him speaking to you as the last vestiges of your strength finally give way. He's trying to sound calm as he urges you to retain consciousness, but for once it's a losing effort, as you can hear the crack in his performance. It makes you sadder than anything else thus far. Particularly because you simply can't stay awake a moment longer. There's just too much weight in your limbs, and the warm darkness promises you a break, so you simply have to give in. All you can hope is that he'll understand neither one of you is to blame, and that you'll be able to wake up and tell him that yourself, but you're not especially worried about the latter half.

·He feels you go completely limp just as the medical bay and laboratory signs come into view. Now in a blind desperation, he makes a split second decision to head for his lab, reasoning that the medical bay will certainly be crowded due to current circumstances. Everything he'll need can be found in his various tools, and he can't waste a moment waiting on anyone else, even the medics. He can recall so clearly the human texts now, how the phenomenon of suffocation was described, and the resulting smothering of irreplaceable cells... Your tiny body is still breathing, but how much damage has already been inflicted? What parts of you has he failed to save? Not knowing is tearing him apart.

·Brainstorm is the only one in the lab, and he looks momentarily relieved to see Perceptor enter, saying something about restoring communication before catching sight of the little body in his hands. A frantic recommendation to bring them to the medical bay is met with curt dismissal as he lays you on an open work slab. There's no time to entrust this to anyone else, and in his mind the supplies he needs are already listed clear as day, including where to find them and what order he needs them in to maximize efficiency. Conscious thought is almost nonexistent as he works with record speed. The only times he stops are when his traitorous optics glance to your tiny body, and each glimpse is like an icy dagger to his spark. This isn't it. It can't be it. He won't lose the one he cares about more than anything.

·The tank of oxygen and the human sized ventilation system are hooked up to your frightfully still face with the care of a diamondsetter. He's able to get the readings of your improvement quickly, as the oxygen levels in the ship were apparently not yet low enough to do real damage, but he feels no comfort. All of his mind is still in chaos from the helplessness he can't yet shake. The fog is so deep that he barely notices Brainstorm return with a glowering Ratchet, and he only replies in curt affirmations or negations when the medic begins questioning your condition, doing so somewhat gruffly due to the inconvenience of having to move you later. With only a confirmation from the other mech you'll be in his care, he heads back out into the ship, weapon in hand and optics cold as he sets about securing Autobot victory one shot at a time.

·By the time you awaken the battle is over and the Lost Light is back to near total functionality. A calm voice instructs you to keep your oxygen mask on just a little longer to be safe, and you see Perceptor sitting beside you in the small recovery room. Having the basic pieces of everything more or less clear in your head, your immediate concern is him, which is only made worse by the scratches and scuffs on his usually well maintained armor. Barely able to stay where you are, the questions begin to pour forth as you reach a hand out to him. There's an uncharacteristically exhausted smile on his face as he reaches out a servo for you to hold. The expression is an obvious mask, made only more strained by the fake flatness of his assurance that he's fine, and that he only endured minor damage while cleaning out the last of the enemy. You know he's lying about that and more.

·Despite your ability to read him, you're still surprised when he cracks in a heartbreaking moment. His shoulders shake, his helm falls forward, and he leans heavily against the berth as your gentle prompt forces it all to the surface. By his standards he's a wreck, though his sobs are barely audible and could easily be mistaken for rough ventilations, and he makes it clear he's aware of how pathetic he looks. But how can he be okay? You needed him, and it was his own system that had failed you, with a second rate cyber attack no less. He should have seen that coming from the onset! He should have prepared! He can't seem to find the ground beneath him as he shakes, and in that instant you find strength far beyond your tiny body, and you use it to claw your way towards him. Seeing this makes him panic, and when he tries to gently stop your efforts you grab him tight, looking deep into those optics as you remind him he doesn't have to know everything. There will be times he's up against the unknown and unexpected, but his determination and strength have always driven him forward, and that's what you fell in love with. As you speak he seems to regain himself, and you hold him as tight as you can while emphasizing that even if everything feels out of control, you'll always be here to figure it out beside him. There's a sigh of relief he doesn't bother to hide as his world stabilizes, and once again you and he are right where you belong, hand in hand at the center.

Drift

·Having spent time on earth made him rather familiar with humans, and that combined with his first hand experience being an outsider in a group made him determined to ensure you were welcome on the ship. Needless to say, his efforts were more than a little successful. Now he's trying to teach you self defense in your shared quarters, which requires some creative thinking to ensure your safety. He's still got you using lightweight staffs in the place of anything sharp, and being a beginner, you can't complain too much. Though it's hard not to laugh when something occasionally gets bonked, yourself included, and even he chuckles despite all attempts to appear the dedicated teacher. Even with these distractions you learn a lot, but it's hard not to just enjoy how gentle he is when adjusting your stance, his proportionally massive hands holding you as if you might shatter in an instant.

·Thankfully he has full control of his reactions when the ship unexpectedly spasms, and his cupped palm prevents you from tumbling to the floor as the tremors settle back to absolute stillness, allowing you to look up at Drift just as he opens his communication line to Rodimus. The captain is able to give a brief rant about an ambush and systems crashing all over before the line begins to break, and you see your steadfast partner visibly distress as he loses contact with his friend, getting only a few garbled bits of information before the line goes entirely silent. An attempt by you to establish contact on your own communicator finds no success either. For all of his usual calm, the mech still supporting you looks ready to fight as he acknowledges trouble is inbound.

·To your surprise, he lifts you clear off the floor in a single move, talking fast as he secures his weapons and prepares for what he says will be a run for the most secure parts of the ship. Even if he's one of the key bots for defense in the event of something just like this, he has to get you to safety, or at least somewhere relatively well protected. There's a few key locations he can think of; the headquarters for security, the laboratories, the medical bay, and a few others he's memorized for... well, this exact purpose. The moment a tiny human changed his world he had drafted countless protective measures to ensure their safety, because he knew the dangers they would face all too well. Unfortunately he's having a hard time keeping them all in track now, especially with creeping fear tainting his reason and ability to plan ahead.

·Catching the worry he never admits to having, and admittedly plenty afraid yourself, you help him focus by calmly asking for the closest place he knows of that's secure. Mask of calm returning in an instant, he smiles and decides to go for the main laboratory. Perceptor is likely there, getting whatever experimental defense apparatus he's currently testing up and running to expel incoming threats. There likely won't be a safer place in the universe once he's prepared. Drift keeps to himself that there's an unspoken understanding between them regarding you, namely that the reserved scientist will protect you with the same level of veracity he would his former battle partner. Unfortunately that vow may be getting tested very shortly... Yet he keeps smiling, refusing to let his fear dampen your energy as he decides it's time to make his move. Somehow you feel just as heavy in his hand as the sword on his back as he makes sure you're secure.

·Accustomed to being carried by him in a number of ways, you notice his grip is different the instant he steps into the hallway, his digits curled in a way that screams protection just as much as his narrowed optics radiate apprehension despite trying to appear calm. You know he's protective by nature, but this is different. Every part of him is working in unison to move with as little noise as possible, his senses alert and scanning for threats as he hurries through the ship far more silently than you would have ever expected for a bot his size. In all your time together he's never been so outwardly on edge. Through his shameful confessions you know of his past, and you know of his skill in eliminating threats, so to see him nervous is actually a touch alarming in itself.

·There's a quick whisper from him that he believes enemies may be unavoidable no matter what path he takes. Should there be combat, he warns, he wants you to remain hidden or at least in cover until he's eliminated the threat. Should they overpower him however, your goal will be escape through whatever means necessary. The idea of dying to protect his partner doesn't give him any pause. Instead, his only focus is on ensuring you know every tool at your disposal to get to safety. Thoughts of sending you through the vents give him little comfort, but his feelings are hardly a priority, as nothing matters beyond you. You who saw past his sins, who'd given him a home in your boundless heart, and who had brought nothing but joy and light into his life. If he could guarantee anything by sheer force of will, it was your survival.

·You want to remind him that you're not the only one who matters here. Though you don't have any of his great strength or speed, you're certainly not going to let him be taken from you, as surviving without him would hardly be a victory. But holding on to that conversation is all you can do for now. The danger is real if you draw unwanted attention through speech, and so you keep the thoughts to yourself, saving them for the time you both would have to talk when this was over. Stress is oddly nonexistent as the air crackles around you from tension, perhaps signaling you've become so anxious it's all come full circle and turned you calm. Still, you keep a firm hold on him from your position of cover. Spectralism has encouraged him to be incredibly sensitive to the world around him, so you hope your tiny self focusing on calm will help give him some comfort.

·Unfortunately your efforts are given no time to pay off. Without making so much as a sound, he pushes himself flat against a wall and shushez you as he does so, allowing you to catch the faintest hint of what alarmed him; the sound of very alien movement. Trained audials lock in on the most likely direction of the source, which gives him the information he needs to come to an important decision; there's no getting around this particular group. As time to wait them out simply doesn't exist, he's left to confirm that fighting is his only choice, and with that lays you down on the floor beside a vent opening. Having known this might happen does nothing to quell your panic when you realize you're being left on the sidelines. This mech leaves you no time to argue before silently slipping around the corner to end things quickly.

·There's a team of Cybertronian sized lifeforms so surprised by his arrival they only have time to clumsily draw their weapons before the first one is neatly cut to pieces. Double blades make short work of the next few, and the mess of alien blood barely registers as he moves in a kind of trance, unwilling to let himself waste a moment of time unleashing the frustration and anger he so desperately wants to take out on these intruders. There's no doubt in his mind they'd hurt you if given the chance, but his logic keeps him in check to ensure he doesn't lose himself to the rage such a thought tempts him with. Cold precision is what he needs to most effectively end this quickly, and the method is proven effective when the last enemy falls in pieces, all without a single mark on his own armor. Save for the few spatters of alien blood, but he hardly notices such a minor detail.

·You're a little more concerned when he returns dripping with the mess of battle, but a quick reasurance and a noting of the lack of energon's distinctive pink glow puts most of your worries to rest. Still, you cling tightly to him as he picks you back up, whispering your thanks despite the loud clamor of the recent battle. It's a small victory when your gratitude makes him smile once again. Reminding you that he took a vow to protect you, he holds you close again and sets back off, assuming the same strategy of silent travel as before. It's oddly less tense this time, as if seeing what he's up against gave him the confidence to overcome his own worries for your sake. Whatever the case, you gladly take the result, already worn out from all the excitement of his recent battle.

·A brief burst of communication gives him pause, and you're equally baffled by the sudden transmission until he takes cover and answers. The commanding bots make something clear for the short message they've been able to transmit; Drift needs to get you to the medical bay. A rapid explanation of how the shipwide errors includes the atmospheric generators puts it all together in horrifying detail. Oxygen levels are dropping on all the sensors, they explain before the line cuts out, and while it's happening slowly there's still precious little time. He doesn't need any further instructions when silence descends over you both once more. You, however, can barely grasp the full extent of what you've just been told. After all, you feel fine! Well... mostly fine, perhaps things are a bit more wobbly than they should be.

·You're embraced as his expression briefly cracks into full worry. There's a whispered promise to get you to safety before he's once again on the move, all the on edge energy from before filling his coiled body as it hurries through the ship at impressive speeds. Strategy doesn't come easily as you try to think of the best way to save your breath. Keeping calm is hardly an option with everything going on, but you give it your best shot. You just need to stay awake and as relaxed as possible until he reaches the medical bay. It's harder than it should be already, but you persevere, lying down in his hand to keep the world from spinning all around you. Being close to him helps just a little bit. It helps you believe that the two of you will be fine, that he'll get to where he needs to be without trouble, and that everything is going to be smooth sailing from here.

·But of course, his luck allows for no such fortune. In the next moment he's being forced to tuck you away without a word of warning, the sound of an even more aggressive group of attackers forcing him to act before you can be hurt. He tries to dominate the battle like he did the last one, using his anger for fuel but never allowing it to take control, and his blades respond well to the strategy at first. However, this group is larger than the last, and thus his ambush simply doesn't buy him enough time to defeat them all. Soon blaster shots are flying and counterattacks are being hurled in his direction. All he can think about is you lying just out of sight, and how little time he has for this, and that these beings are all perfectly fine ending your life with such a cowardly tactic... It's an emotional powder keg, and the spark is finally lit when a not so lucky alien manages to cut a shallow gash across his side. The harsh burn of the injury sets him off just as you manage to glance down the hallway.

·Calm and calculated combat becomes a brutal beat down of anything he can get his swords through. A snarl reveals his shamefully concealed canines as he turns his blades into instruments of revenge instead of mere tools to victory. Even as your vision spins you can see him carving the increasingly fewer number of enemies without any of his usual grace, his expression one of blind fury as he eviscerates his enemies and something like a smile pulling up on his lips through their snarl. Some part of him is enjoying this, you realize. Even though he doesn't linger or draw out his moves, you can see he's going for absolute brutality in his kills. He wants these aliens to hurt for what they've done, and while you can't feel any pity for them, you know he's going to agonize over this later. He's often confided a fear of his own mind, citing moments like these where he just wants the enemy to hurt, and you know he firmly believes goodness is beyond him because of this.

·There's a thrill as he clears the last enemy, despite a few additional injuries of his own to show for it. No one was going to harm his beloved human and keep their limbs intact. He's still flashing the artificially sharpened canines that usually bring him such shame when he turns to see you watching. Pride vaporizes to horror in an instant, both from the realization that he gave in to temptation and that you saw him partake in such senseless brutality, and only the continued need to move lets him approach and lift you once more. Apologies pour out of his voicebox as he returns to running, begging your forgiveness for having exposed you to the worst parts of himself and failing to control them at your most vulnerable. Guilt tears him apart as he sees you've begun to lose clarity in the growing absence of oxygen.

·Unconsciousness pulls at you despite your resistance, and you force yourself to stay alert enough to keep him reassured. Had you the words your emphasis would have been on comforting him in the wake of his loss of control, particularly in regards to how you weren't afraid and never would be, as that piece was just a small part of the actual him you knew. Did he reject you for your failings? No, you wished you could say, and that you would never leave him for the same reason. As it was, you could only suck in deep breaths and hope he might read the conviction in your eyes. You want so badly for him to see you're not even upset with him, but your more coherent thoughts on the subject are starting to fade as well. Assurances that you will always support him fade into the fog overtaking your mind.

·He feels you slip into unconsciousness and it's like another stab to his already aching spark. Time is running out, and he can certainly take some of the blame for that, can't he? How many precious seconds could have been saved if he just stayed in control and finished the battle without savoring the violence? It's enough guilt that he becomes blind to anything else, charging forward on the most direct path and straight into an ongoing battle between bots and the still invading forces. You're held to his spark with a level of protection a bot would usually reserve for the Matrix, your safety being the only one that matters as he quite literally cuts a path through the enemies, focusing only on getting to the other side as he does so. Without any kind of defense he's quickly suffering a number of injuries, but he either doesn't notice or care as he keeps you free of the danger. The desire for retribution burning in his spark is smothered by a cold refusal to indulge unless he loses what's most worth fighting for.

·Only a lack of operability in his leg slows him down, and by then he's thankfully surrounded more by Autobots than enemies. His heroic charge is credited with turning the fight, but he's heedless to praise and concern as he finds support to stand from an unexpected arrival; Ratchet. Stopping the medic before his own wounds can be addressed, he holds you out wordlessly as his sword clatters to the floor from his other hand. Energon loss he only just now notices makes him wobble, but he insists on waiting until you've been helped, refusing to be treated until he knows you're going to be okay. The medics sort of compromise by tending to him whilst setting you up on the prepared medical slab, and as his considerable injuries are patched up he feels relief plagued by uncertainty. Will you remember what you saw? Will the firsthand experience with his inner demons drive you away? It eats at him in ways no medic can make feel better.

·When you awaken he's also on mandatory rest, and he's moved your tiny self onto a medical slab beside him to keep you close, making his familiar colors the first thing you see upon opening your eyes. You can't bring yourself to care about the oxygen mask on your face when the recently welded scars on his armor shock you into a mild panic. Seeing you awake, he gently shushes your concerns and encourages you to be still, and his position on his side thankfully makes conversing quite simple. At a single, anxious prompt about your memory the moments leading up to your loss of consciousness become clear. Drift quickly assures you that everything is fine, but you catch his look of worry when you confirm your recollection, and a gentle request for more information strikes him hard.

·His apologies are as helpless as they are hopeless. The disgust with himself is nearly tangible as he begs your forgiveness for having exposed you to the worst parts of himself, and it takes far longer than usual to get him to listen to you, perhaps due to the mask muffling your voice. Reiterating that you already accepted his past, you recall the way he held you in the heat of everything just today, and emphasise the sheer volume of injuries he endured to save you. That's the bot you've chosen to love, at the peak of his strength and selflessness and determination... That's who he is, and who he will always be to you. Your reminder soothes the pain in his body and spark. Moving as close as he can on the berth, he takes the moment to appreciate being together once again, his faith in himself given new strength thanks to your boundless love.

[rachetmath]

JRY vs Ace-ops

Warning: Long read. This is theory on who would survive a fight. A analyses. In my opinion. So with clear, if you agree, then like or comment. Disagree, fine, go wild.  

Hello, so you must have read the title. Okay you might be thinking, "Ratchetmath, bro, you can't be serious. There is no way Jaune and Ren can ever defeat the Ace-ops. Only Yang, considering her and her teammates did in volume 7." Which I would completely side with you on. However, I've come to realize that the Hound was never a threat, and more importantly the boys could've done more if the Worf effect wasn't in place. So, let's give these guys a fighting chance and see what they along with Yang, could've done if they had to fight Winter and Ace-ops.

First, let's discuss the Hound and why the Worf effect failed. For those of you who don't know what the Worf effect is, it is when a new character is placed in the story and to prove their strength: you make them fight already deemed strong characters and let them win or stand a chance of winning the fight. The reason the Worf effect failed for the Hound is because Oscar is not a very strong character. Oscar skill level as the show presents is random at best. The Hound should have aimed for Jaune. Jaune as the show and writers made clear, has an incredible amount of aura. Seeing the Hound break his aura completely without even trying would've been more terrifying and makes sense. Or Yang, showing that it could fight.

But why? Why the Hound taking Jaune or Yang down first makes sense? Yeah, Yang is fine but Jaune is not strong or a capable fighter. Maybe not much of a fighter, but he is strong. In fact, he holds back grimm twice his size on a regular basis like an Urosa and Nuckelavee. Even Yang and the other characters, well except Elm because of her physical appearance, are guilty of this. The Hound is no different, it's basically a harder version of the Beowulf. Let's face it, Jaune couldn't do anything because the show must go as planned. Jaune could've save Oscar by getting close and blowing it away with his gravity dusted shield. The hound attacking Jaune first would prove it was watching them carefully, seeing their weapons and abilities to find who could be a threat to its mission. Proving its power and intelligence.

Now, the main event, team JRY versus The Ace-ops. The fight starts when the Ace-ops arrive after Jaune told them about the grimm river. Sadly, when they arrive, things were not so good. The Ace-Ops were more focused on finding Penny instead of the river. Now the grimm river destroyed the Atlas barrier and Atlas was under attack. However, the Ace-ops still want to arrest the group. Instead of going down peacefully, Jaune, Yang and Ren won't go down without a fight. Can they win?

Now, let's scan the environment. They were in an open plain field full of snow. There is nowhere to hide and almost no way to escape for team JRY. The motorcycle is not fast enough to outrun Harriet or a plane. But more importantly there was a crater beside them where the grimm river used to be. Now there are two ways this can go down, but I'll explain later. Let’s focus on the characters.

Let’s talk about the Ace-ops. They are elite hunters in Atlas. And from what we got from volume 8, Harriet told us that Marrow and Winter are replacements for their fallen comrades. Meaning Vine, Elm and Harriet herself are the remaining, long term members of the Ace-ops. So, they work very well together unlike with Marrow and Winter. That could give team JRY an advantage, but not much. Do to the fact that it's five against three and with only one of them being the strongest fighter, they need a plan to set the odds to their favor.

Now for team JRY. Beacon students turned hunters thanks to James. Now they’re with adults. However, there are a few problems with this team. There are three people in the team and two of them, barely fight or have barely won a fight at all. Jaune is more on the defensive while Ren... well, he spams his attacks, and relies heavily on long range. Sadly, the Ace-ops over power them with combative semblances and fire power. Their best shot would be to run. However, there still a way to win. This is a fight or flight situation, so what would happen if team JRY choose either option?

For flight, the reason being because they're not capable, it's a waste time and more importantly lives are in danger. First, remember they were on a field of snow. What does Jaune have? A shield that shoots gravity waves on contact weather it's from enemies or to the ground. Jaune was already in front of the bike and with good timing, he could activate and slam his shield to ground, sending snow flying, causing a smoke screen. Giving them little but plenty of time to hop on the one motorcycle and ride, while making sure Winter or Marrow have no time to stop them with either of their semblances. The crater also plays a key role for their escape. They can ride in it, but Harriet, due to her semblance granting her speed, will be on their tail. However, if orderly seated, Jaune can stop Harriet from getting too close. But what about the other members? Well, they'll be back on the ship, but they can't do anything. If they fire missiles, they'll get in Harriet's way and more importantly hurt her in the process. Jaune could also block her path himself with shield bomb.  

Now, for fight. Reason being is Oscar is in danger and needs saving. More importantly the plane is better for traveling around Mantle and saving people than a motorcycle. This will be a difficult battle but not one sided. This is going to involve the team trusting each other. And putting their skills to the test.

First off, they would need to get rid of Marrow. Marrow may be the rookie of the Ace-ops, but he is the most powerful. His semblance can stop time just by looking at his opponent or pointing at them, commanding them to "Stay" in place.

To take out Marrow, they need to knock him out before he uses his semblance. So, before the fight truly starts, Yang should be close to Jaune, grabbing his clothes and amplifying her aura. When she has enough, Jaune, since team JRY will get a plane, launches the bike and Ren shoots the gas tank. The explosion should cause a temporary smoke screen. Yang should immediately get on Jaune shield for him to launch her towards the Ace-ops and activate her semblance to knock Marrow out. Wait a minute, but Yang's semblance doesn't work like that, she needs to take damage to even use it. However though, Blake revealed that Yang and Adam's semblances are one of the same. Meaning, both can activate their semblances any time without the need to be attacked. Yang has done this once back at Beacon and in Atlas considering Elm couldn't even touch her. But this would wear her out. Too bad she was amplified by Jaune, so she may not experience the same negative draw backs when using her semblance recklessly before.

Wait, but what about Aura? Can't aura protect Marrow from harm? Well, sadly no. Aura, as the show so far made clear, is limited to what it could do for its users. If you have a broken arm, get poisoned and/or critically wounded, your aura my not save you. So, a heavy blow to the head is something your aura is useless in healing, especially when you need to be conscious.  

Now, it's four against three. So, what should happen next? Jaune pushes Harriet into the crater, allowing Ren to fight her. Harriet may be fast but with the crater being narrow and deep she'll have a hard time moving around and probably climbing out. This will allow Ren to adapt to her movements and fight in her in hand-to-hand combat. Hopefully, he's still good at that and not relying on his upgrade.

Jaune may have to take on two opponents. They are being Vine and Elm. Don't get me wrong, it took Blake and Yang to beat them, but Vine and Elm aren't really that good. In fact, they are just stronger versions of Ren and Nora, except Vine's semblance is better suited for combat. But let’s be clear, Jaune survived a journey of pain without his aura being broken but a few times. Never mind, only once, do to being tired after fighting a giant mech.

Now, hear me out. Elm is strong, and her weapon is an RPG. But her semblance is useless if the ground is cracked, which Jaune can do without wasting aura, or entering a burst mode. Elm also has not demonstrated any hand-to-hand combat skills. Even if she was willing to still use her weapon without her semblance, it only further proves she will suffer from the recoil from her weapon once fired. Plus, Jaune can block or deflect the missiles back at her using the gravity waves from his shield. Also, though Elm is stronger than Jaune, he's faster, has more movability and a sword. So as the saying goes, "Bigger doesn't always mean better."  

But hey, what about Vine? He beat Jaune before. But who can't beat Jaune? More importantly, didn't Vine need the high ground to fight anyone. In the snow plain field, Vine has no high ground but the ship, Jaune already fought him once so he might know how far his arms can stretch, and more importantly, Jaune is physically stronger than Vine. He might use his weapon but again, the shield can deflect it. And if Jaune grabs his stretchable arm, he basically can throw Vine around.

I will make this quick for Yang. Yang will take on Winter. She would be able to reason with her considering she's friends with her sister. But Yang might have some ways to fight Winter considering she should knows how Weiss fights and been working with Weiss for a while. However, we still must consider that Winter can make an army of grimm, but she has not used any other tactics.

But these are still highly trained hunters. They aren't so easily to be defeated especially against Jaune and Ren. Well, Jaune can assist Ren by knocking out Harriet. How? Ren could use his grappling gun to capture and slow down Harriet. Ren gives Jaune a signal, Jaune goes to him, Ren releases Harriet who was running too fast for her own good with no time to react. Finally, Jaune use his shield to knock her out. They climb out and both can fight Vine and Elm. Same for Ren if to assist Jaune first. Harriet may be fast but won't be able to climb out the crater. Once all four members are down Winter would be the only one left. And sadly, the Schnees despite their abilities, still manage to lose battles.

Well, that’s all folks. Remember this is in my opinion. If there are ways for team JRY to win or if there are flaws to my plan, then please leave a comment. However, despite what I said, team JRY would still lose. Mostly due to what I said about the Worf effect not being used properly. And the villains have way more plot armor then the heroes.

[shinsoups]

Student No. 22 —

m a s t e r l i s t

pairing: shinsou hitoshi x f!reader x class1a

genre: 1tbsp of crack, 1 tsp of fluff, a sprinkle of angst and 1 cup of chaotic randomness

synopsis: y/n was certain she would never be a Hero. She had a different goal in her mind, and that is to be a great doctor someday. With a terrible past she wants to forget, she vows she would never use her Quirk and will never let the world know what it is. Not until she finds out that the invincible quirk she thought she has can also have a certain weakness.

random updates

a/n: i know canon Shinsou is joining hero class for their second year but I'm gonna make him part of Class 1A already yay!

OO3 : Class 1A —

Other students were now staring at the weird pair walking side by side. Aizawa’s hunched figure was beside someone who wasn’t wearing the UA uniform. Rumors started to begin in hushed whispers as the pair kept walking towards their destination. Aizawa-sensei has a daughter? Midoriya freaked out as he saw your arms covered in the same material their teacher has around his neck. Or were those bandages? That can’t be true, he smiled shaking his head in disbelief. He tried to walk slower behind the pair in front of him, still he was curious enough to linger just an earshot away from you.

“I’m not here to make friends,” you chanted inside your head as you and Aizawa walked towards the classroom. “Should I just run and say I don’t want to join this class?” So many emotions flicker in your face you never get to hear anything your teacher was even saying.

Aizawa senses the awkwardness when he noticed you weren’t listening to him at all. He stops walking in front of a large door, scratching an invisbile itch behind his head. “Like I said, you don’t have to force yourself to make friends with everyone.” His tired eyes peeking from his messy hair were now looking at yours. “There’s this one kid who also just got transferred before the semester ended last month. Class 1-A may seem a bunch of rowdy kids but I assure you no one will harm you.”

Did I just say that one out loud? You thought to yourself. Or did he just read your mind? You can’t blame him, but his voice just lulls you into something familiar yet foreign. In a sense, he scares you because you can’t feel any danger whenever he is around. He sighed seeing the familiar green-haired child hiding behind, “And Midoriya I’ll mark you as late so whatever you were thinking—” Aizawa trailed off as you look behind he was addressing, a blushing mess stood behind you.

Midoriya’s face flushed red as he begins to stutter. “I- Sensei the other students were—“ he was mumbling incoherent words when he notices you staring at him. “I’m Midoriya Izuku.” He held his hand offering a handshake.

Grasping the situation and the weird sentence Aizawa-sensei left hanging you corrected yourself even before he gets the wrong idea. “I- I am not his daughter.” You shook his hand, a small blush forming at your cheeks when he squeezed your hand nervously at the mention of the word ‘daughter’. “I’m y/n.”

Aizawa tried to hide his smile as his predictions were coming tangible. I knew Midoriya would be the first one to offer friendship but I didn’t think this will come sooner than expected, he thought to himself as he slid the door open.

As soon as Aizawa stepped inside the room, the noise settles down. Midoriya rushed inside and went to his seat leaving you behind hovering just before the entrance. You can already feel the heavy stares as you invited yourself inside and closed the door even before Aizawa called you. Your hand hovers on the straps of your bag, biting your lip nervously sensing the overflowing power around you. Your body was tingling, automatically assessing everyone inside the room even though there were no signs of real threat. Aizawa’s eyes squinted, noticing your discomfort and somehow even proving the principal’s quirk theory about you. He recalls how Nezu asked him to talk to one of his students and give authority to use his quirk against her. Now all he has to do is see it with his own eyes.

Shinsou’s dark purple eyes settled on your figure thinking about the favor Aizawa asked him to do. He didn’t give him enough explanation other than provoke the new student and somehow make her use her quirk in class. Is this how they do it in the Hero Class? He asks himself, he sighs as he saw who he’ll be facing with.

“As you may recall back in the dorms, I already told everyone that a new student will be joining you this semester. I expect everyone to treat her equally.” Aizawa looked at you and gestures you to come in front with him.

You fiddled your hands as you walk beside him. “My name is ------ and I’m pretty sure I told Aizawa-sensei and All-Might sensei that I’m only visiting the class and will not join you.” You looked over the raven-haired teacher and continued looking at the sea of confused faces in front of you, “I know everyone here will be an excellent hero someday. But it will be really impossible to treat someone like me as your equal. Cause I am not. But I hope I won’t be a hindrance to everyone during my stay here.” You bowed your head as you finished your introduction. But somehow Bakugou hears a threat about your little speech, intimidated about the phrasing or maybe he was just reading between the lines.

“Ehh? What makes you think we’re not equal? Hey are you stronger than me?” Bakugo growls, thinking that maybe you really are stronger for the school to admit you even after a semester has already passed.

“Kacchan!!” Midoriya whispers hoarsely. “I don’t think that’s what she meant.”

You scrambled on the words you were supposed to say to the blonde one when another one spoke.

“Hey new girl,” Shinsou started. Everyone shifted their gazes on the purple haired boy. He was never one to initiate conversations, let alone talk to someone he barely knew so everyone was curious what he was up to.

“I just introduced myself,” you said dryly staring now at him.

“Would you mind telling us,” Shinsou shrugged, his body leaning forward, hands tapping on the wooden desk thinking whether he should use his quirk or not. He looked at Aizawa and saw him nod a little signaling him that he’s allowed to do what he was asked for. “I mean would you like to show us why you were admitted so easily in the Hero Course?”

“Shinsou-kun I think that was just...” voices soon filled the room when the guy named Shinsou challenged you out of nowhere.

“Not gonna lie, I really worked hard to be able to sit here in this classroom. I wasn’t given a privilege like yours. While here you come waltzing inside and telling us that we shouldn’t treat you an equal.” His eyebrows quirk up, demanding you to prove yourself. To be honest he doesn’t have any hard feelings against you but for the others inside the room they know that it was half meant true. They saw how hard he fought to be able to sit where he is now.

You stared back at him in confusion. Why was he mad at you? Did they all feel like this? Was it really your privelege to just waltz inside this room when you don’t even have any desire to become a Hero? The quirk you tried so hard to keep a secret even from your own grandparents, a quirk that you resented and hated because if people found out about it they will only get disheartened if given a chance to fight you. This is a mistake, you internally screamed at yourself, I shouldn’t have bothered accepting the offer.

“I didn’t mean it tha—“

Bingo

Shinsou leaned back against the chair and crossed his arms in front of him. Show everyone what you’re capable of. He pondered on what’s the easiest way, a small smile playing on the corners of his lips.

Aizawa watched from the sidelines ready to intervene if what Nezu told him was correct. A cancelling quirk just like his? Or a mutation of multiple quirks? They needed to know and the easiest to test their theory was to let Shinsou take control over you and show it to them first hand. It was just a theory but the principal insisted that it was different from Aizawa’s own quirk. It’s something more of a defense mechanism, a mutation of quirk that possibly developed during your childhood after years of trauma. Was that possible? Probably— because Nezu can symphatize on his new student.

You felt your body tensed. Different from whenever you sense danger around you. You tried to move your foot but you were rooted from where you stand. Alarm bells were now ringing inside your head signaling your body that you’re in danger. No way. You felt panic bubbled inside your stomach but a sense of adrenaline and excitement soon sprouted when you realized someone’s quirk can pass from yours. You felt challenged. Until you feel your body move on its own accord.

You can attack the blonde guy who asked you if you were stronger than him.

The moment his command has left his mind he soon regret it. Why would he even ask that? Bakugou was considered as one of the strongest in their year and his talent is already on par with Pro-Heroes. Shinsou was about to tell you to stop until he saw Aizawa-sensei signaling him not to intervene.

Throwing your bag on the floor, your body moved towards the blonde guy with vermillion eyes. Bakugou’s body shifted on defense mode when he saw how fast you came charging towards him. Your right leg hit Bakugou’s arms, taking a step back he shrugged his shoulders up and took the blow once again and started to shift into attack mode.  You were just standing in front seconds ago, the speed you show somehow left him stunned. This time he was able to dodge the incoming fist aimed at his jaw. Your moves were calculated yet precise. Each blow from your legs surely hit him and the way you dodge on his attacks was now starting to irritate him.

Stealth? Aizawa’s eyes widen as he saw you flinging yourself towards Bakugou, throwing your arms ready to pounce on the kid. Asui called out to their teacher but to no avail they didn’t get any response. “Let them be,” he soon spoke, looking blankly at everyone. “Move the chairs so they won’t get damaged.” He instructed.

Everyone started to back out when Bakugou aimed his hands towards you. Your legs were moving on its own, fists trying to aim at his vulnerable parts. A small smirk now playing on his mouth “Hey sensei,” he flinched when your right fist successfully hit his jaw, the left one aiming to add counter but he held your arm just in time before you can land another blow.

“I can go all out right?” Bakugou quickly looked at their teacher, feeling the sting on his right cheek. “She attacked me first.” Trying to dodge his way he decided to use his own quirk against you. Fire started to spark on his hands ready to show you that he is the strongest inside the room.

Shinsou was in awe on how graceful you move, dodging every punch and kick Bakugou was trying to aim at your small figure. The class knows that Bakugou was trying to limit the damage he was causing inside the room, only aiming the fire all out on you. Your body automatically turned and took a half step back dodging the fire explosion he released. You were so sure there was a blank look on your face but the excitement you felt was not because you were fighting someone strong but because someone actually had the audacity to control you without your body sensing the danger. Growing tired of the repetitive attacks your “enemy” was aiming at you, you decided to give up already. Bakugou pinned your body down and released another close range fire explosion at you. There’s no use in keeping it a secret now, huh you thought to yourself as you welcomed the fire coming at you. You turned your head towards your teacher, this is what you wanted from the start, no words were needed as everyone stood still processing what they just saw. Slapping your hand on your left cheek hard enough to make everyone flinched at the sound, you felt release from an unknown command taking over yourself.

Bakugou kept firing at you but the explosions turn into nothingness even before it reaches your skin. As if a thin layer of shield was covering you, all his attacks suddenly felt useless. Aizawa stood in awe, “She could defeat all of us here if she wanted to.” He recalls the words principal Nezu told him and the other teachers.

“That’s enough,” Aizawa takes a deep breath, eyes glowing red as he looked at Bakugou erasing his quirk. Kaminari and Kirishima tried to take a stunned Bakugou off of you, a dumb and confused look lingers on his face. But he refused to do so, not until a familiar scarf wrapped around his body and pulled him off away from you.

You lied there on the floor for a minute after Bakugou let your collared shirt go floating away all wrapped up. Covering your face with one bandaged arm, “I wanna know who did that.” You sighed, so much for a secret, you just revealed your quirk to the class in just one go.

You stood up slowly waiting for someone to respond to your question yet no one dared to answer. The next thing you know your “classmates” were now hovering around you asking you what just happened and how you did it, congratulating you that you were the first one to beat their top 1 in class.

Midoriya seemed to analyze what happened mumbling to himself as he hovers beside you. Curiosity struck Todoroki as he saw Bakugou’s attack was futile against you so he tried using his ice quirk when you started taking everyone’s handshake while introducing themselves.

“Todoroki Shouto,” he said plainly as ice started spreading on his right arm but soon stopped as it meets your hand.

“Did you just—“

“What is your quirk?” Todoroki politely asked interupting you. But before he could get an answer, Aizawa cleared his throat instructing everyone to get back to their own seats. He was still struck with the idea of you possessing Stealth as a Quirk but to see it with his own eyes confirmed Nezu’s theory. She can’t cancel it, she’s just putting a thin barrier against every quirk turning every attacks null and void, he thought to himself. But how come Shinsou’s brainwashing can control her? He pondered as he watches his student arranged their desks properly.

Standing on the little podium in front, “Now that all the commotion has stopped. We’re heading to training Ground Beta. You can go all out there,” Aizawa glances back at Bakugou then to you.

You sat awkwardly at the back avoiding your teacher’s gaze, everyone was acting as if nothing had happened at all. Whispering to the purple haired guy named Shinsou beside you, “Uhmm so what is Ground Beta?” you asked already feeling tired.

His purple eyes saw how troubled and confused you look unaware of what Aizawa-sensei was talking about. Shinsou opened and closed his mouth once or twice, trying to find the courage to tell you that he was the one that controlled you right after your introduction, but the sight of your furrowed brows told him other things. You felt your cheeks getting hotter every second as he kept his gaze on you, eyes not wavering even when you flicked his forehead.

“Has anyone ever told you that staring is really rude?” you muse off, cheeks now powdered with pink.

Clearing his throat, he scratches an itch behind his ear and tightens his lips, trying not to smile he awkwardly reply. “R-right. So— Ground Beta...”

“Yes?” you leaned close so you can hear his whisper.

Shinsou leaned in closer, feeling his breath fanning on your ears, “That’s a place where the Hero Class are training. Everyone are paired or grouped to fight one another. It’s a part of the hero course.”

“What?” you pushed your chair as you stood up in disbelief. You whipped your head towards your teacher only to sank back down to your seat.

Aizawa’s red eyes stared at you, his hair flaring upwards in warning when you interrupted him talking. “You’re included in this l/n. Everyone go get your costumes ready. I’ll wait on the training ground. You have 10 minutes to prepare.” With that said, Aizawa exited the doors, leaving you confused and somewhat lost inside the rooms of Class 1A.

taglist: @b0ku4ka @sugarandsoft @roesaurus @moonlightbae14 @therealwalmartjesus @redperson58

i got a taglist im soft ~ want to join? just leave a comment my dudes ✨

likes, comments and reblogs is highly appreciated 🐣this is my first time writing bnha so tips and comments are really helpful ! ✨

[greenandribbonred]

evermore | s. stilinski

chapter ii: in threes

summary: crows, a tattoo & a new threat

word count: 3,7k

warnings: dead animals (ya know, the crow scene) / burns

a/n: big thank you to everyone that has read and taken the time to like and reblog the last chapter! honestly, it means the world, even if it’s such a small gesture. also, I wanted to point out that since Sadie is still figuring things out, she’s a little bit in spectator mode for the moment and that’s why a lot of the chapter is just her thoughts and reactions. promise you’ll get more character interactions soon. thank you for reading and let me know what you think x

series masterlist

“I can’t believe you’re making me go to school,” Sadie complained for the eleventh time that day as she walked into the unfamiliar building, flanked by both Scott and Stiles.

She had protested about it when the boys had dragged her out of bed that same morning, made a fuss about it as she drank her orange juice a little after, and whined the whole car ride from Scott’s house - now also her temporary residency- all the way to school while Stiles tried to talk her into it and reassured her everything would be fine.

“Especially after telling me I’m a werewolf.”

Stiles shushed her with his eyes wide like saucers, a hand over her mouth and an overly dramatic expression of sheer terror plastered on his face. “Sadie, what have we talked about?”

“Sorry,” she threw her arms up in defense. “I’m still processing.”

It had been over a week since Scott had sat her down at the kitchen table and carefully explained to her what had actually happened when she had been attacked and what that bite was going to entail. She had been confused, to say the least, at what was going on and it had taken her a few hours of contemplation on her own before she was brave enough to go back downstairs and face the reality.

Turns out, - and this was just Deaton’s best guess - the full moon had affected her very strongly and very quickly after she was bitten, and she had wandered through the woods like a lost soul for two whole days, even in broad daylight, until she was able to break out of the haze, ending up in Beacon Hills to be found by Scott and Stiles.

Finding out Scott was also a werewolf was possibly the best news she had ever received - though she guessed it was easy to find anything to be a silver lining after discovering her new condition.

He had assured her that she wasn’t going to go through this new chapter of her life on her own and that they would be there for her every step of the way - that she was part of their small and abnormal pack now and they were going to take care of each other. She cried for an hour straight, not really sure if out of relief because of his words or terror for what had happened to her.

Scott had been nothing but supporting since the moment they had found her in the middle of the road, and she thanked the stars every night since then that it had been him who had stumbled upon her that night and not some other person.

For the very first time in a long time Sadie felt like her luck might have been changing - which could perfectly be the understatement of the century since she had just turned into a furry beast with claws and fangs and glowing eyes.

Everyone had been so helpful and welcoming to her and she didn’t know how to feel about it. She was extremely grateful, of course, but she wasn’t used to it, and she was unsure about what the appropriate reaction to it should be.

Scott had talked to his mother, who had kindly agreed to let her stay at their house for as long as she needed; Stiles had given her his old phone, so she could get in contact with them at any moment in case anything happened, and had managed to sign her up at school extremely last minute, which she appreciated, as much as she had complained about it.

Deaton, who she had found out was Scott’s boss, had helped her make sense of her new condition and had offered his help for anything she needed, whenever she needed; Lydia, who Stiles had introduced to her as another supernatural creature which they were still trying to figure out, had been so excited to take her out to buy some clothes, which she had also paid for.

Everyone had been so nice to her, and Sadie wasn’t used to people caring so much - not since her father’s death, at least.

“Besides, how did you even get me signed for this? Isn’t there like a ton of paperwork you have to fill out-”

“You don’t wanna know.” Stiles shook his head, pursing his lips and staring at her absentmindedly like he was recalling something. “Don’t worry your little head about it. Now,” He clapped loudly, slamming his locker door and making both Scott and Sadie jump. “Let’s just focus on going to class, do normal teenager things, don’t think about any of the stuff that starts with a ‘W’ or an ‘A’” He said, peering at Scott, who only stood there awkwardly.

“Anyway,” Stiles went on, dragging them both to their first lecture of the day - english.

The three of them entered the classroom, the boys sitting down next to each other. Sadie looked around as more students settled in their seats, panic slowly coursing through her as some eyes started falling on her.

They’re not looking at you, Sadie, you’re fine.

But they were - they obviously were. She began to feel nervous as the reality settled in. She was actually in school.

Sadie had never liked school - or the teachers, or the classmates, or anything that had to do with it, really. It had always felt more like a prison to her, instead of the safe haven that all the social workers had tried to convince her it was. School was supposed to be very important for foster kids, something that could give them stability and so very needed friendships and social connections, but it had never felt right to her.

Socializing or making friends wasn’t her forte, and neither was studying, so she always felt out of place and on edge. Leaving foster care had meant she didn’t have to go to school anymore, - that being one of the reasons she had left early - but there she was, once again.

“Sadie,” Stiles called out, grabbing her hand from where he was sitting. With a comforting squeeze and a reassuring smile, he guided her to the empty seat to his left.

Sadie smiled back at him, nodding her head and sitting down as she mouthed a ‘thank you’ that she had meant to actually say out loud, but had instead got stuck in her throat.

She settled down and opened her books, watching the painfully awkward exchange Scott was having with his ex-girlfriend, Allison, and she couldn’t help but let out a little chuckle from the second hand embarrassment, already feeling so much better now that she knew she wasn’t the only one going through it at the moment.

Scott glanced her way from his seat with a dumbfounded expression. Stiles gave him a sarcastic thumbs up accompanied with a silly grin, and she chuckled again, this time a little louder.

Scott had told her about Allison and their short lived love story, and it genuinely saddened her that so many things had come between them to the point where it was best if they weren’t together anymore. They were just teenagers. She couldn’t even imagine what it was like to be basically forced to stay away from your first love when there’s clearly something still between them.

Suddenly, all phones in the classroom started buzzing and ringing, including Sadie’s. She reached into her back pocket for it, surprised since the only people that would message her were all sitting down right next to her. She unlocked the device to find it was a message by an unknown number.

“The offing was barred by a black bank of clouds, and the tranquil waterway, leading to the uttermost ends of the earth flowed somber under an overcast sky, seemed to lead into the heart of an immense darkness.” A young woman that appeared to be in her late twenties walked into the class, all eyes fixed on her with bewildered expressions as she quoted the message that had been sent to all of them.

“This is the last line to the first book we are going to read.” She spoke. “It is also the last text you will receive in this class.” She continued with a smug expression. “Phones off, everyone.”

That was one way of making a first impression to your new students.

Sadie wasn’t sure if she liked her for her unusual and original introduction to the class, or if it felt a little too pretentious and stalkerish given she had managed to get a hold of everyone’s phone numbers. It was kind of strange, in her opinion.

• • •

Thankfully, Sadie was good at English. She liked that a lot of it was subjective and left to the reader’s interpretation, opposed to the strict logic of mathematics or the confusing physics. She enjoyed English, and it made sense to her.

Ms. Blake had assigned them some exercises to complete in class, and Sadie had managed to stay focused on them until a voice disturbed her peace.

“Mr. McCall,” Ms. Blake called out.

Scott looked up at her with a confused expression as she gestured for him to get up with an overly kind smile. He picked up his things and followed her out of the classroom.

“Where’s he going?” Sadie whispered, leaning into Stiles’ side.

“I don’t know, can you hear anything?” He said, leaning in too and pointing at his ear so she would understand what type of hearing he was referring to.

Sadie didn’t quite yet know how to put her newfound supernatural abilities to use, but she had gotten the hang of the enhanced hearing fairly quickly.

Trying to focus under the expectant stare of Stiles, she managed to catch what they were saying, though it still sounded a little muffled and distant, not being able to completely isolate their voices from everyone else’s in the school. She still had to practice.

“His mom called, she needs him for something. Do you think it’s something-” she paused, implying she was referring to the supernatural.

“Could be,” he answered. “Let’s not worry yet, okay?” he said when he saw her concerned expression.

Sadie had only known Scott and Stiles for a few days, but she already felt very protective over them. They had been the ones to save her that night and she felt like she was in debt to them in some way, even if they had insisted multiple times - every single time she had thanked them, actually, and it had been many times already - that she didn’t owe them anything and she was a part of their bizarre little family now.

Getting close to people had always been very difficult for her. When she left foster care she wasn’t emotionally prepared to be thrown into a situation like this - creating new bonds and friendships she wasn’t used to and having to trust unconditionally. It had never been her intention to get close to anybody new, afraid of what could happen if she did, and yet there she was. Caring about people.

It’s not that she was cold or a hard egg to crack that simply didn’t care for meaningful relationships with other people. She was the complete opposite, actually: way too sensitive sometimes, extremely caring and warm; compassionate, kind and overall a sweetheart with a heart of gold that had been broken way too many times for her young age. It was just hard for her to show all of these things sometimes. She couldn’t afford losing anyone else, so she mostly kept to herself.

Stiles had told her to not worry - at least not yet - so she tried to distract herself and focus solely on the exercises Ms. Blake had assigned them. She found it extremely hard though with Stiles’ loud whispering to Lydia, who was sitting right in front of her.

“Has it ever bitten you before?”

Lydia shook her head to his question, visibly annoyed at him. Sadie could already see the wheels turning in Stiles’ head, putting two and two together like she had seen him do multiple times already in the few days they had known each other. He was a clever guy that saw things clearly where others didn’t. She really admired him for that.

“Okay, what if it’s, like, the same thing as the deer? You know, like, how animals start acting weird right before an earthquake or something?”

She was about to ask what he meant with the deer, but refrained from doing so when she saw the look Ms. Blake was giving them for speaking. She didn’t want to be told off on her first day of school.

“Meaning what? There’s gonna be an earthquake?” Lydia was clearly done with him and all she wanted was to get back to her exercises.

“Or something, I just-” he insisted. “Maybe it means something’s coming. Something bad.”

Sadie didn’t like the sound of that at all.

“It was a deer and a dog. What’s that thing you say about threes? Once, twice,” Something slamming hard against the glass window behind Lydia interrupted her, leaving a gruesome patch of blood and black feathers behind.

“Oh, god,” Sadie jumped back from the window in shock, pushing herself back on her chair towards Stiles.

Everyone in the classroom stood still in confusion at what had happened, staring at the window the poor bird had crashed against. All of a sudden, the sound of birds shrieking could be heard clearly. All eyes fixed on the windows, they saw what almost seemed like a hundred crows approaching the school, as if flying away from something.

“Stiles,” she stuttered, their eyes quickly meeting in panic before darting back towards the birds.

“Get down!”

One after the other, the crows flew right into the windows of the classroom, and the glass gave in, shattering as more and more of the birds crashed against it. Pure instinct coming over her, Sadie reached forward towards Lydia, crouching down and covering her with her own body. She felt someone doing the same to her, their chest pressed tightly against her back and their arms wrapping around both her and Lydia.

After what felt like minutes of terrified screams and sheer panic, it was over. Sadie locked eyes with Stiles when he unwrapped his arms from around her.

“You okay?” He asked as he helped her and Lydia up, looking around the devastated classroom. The tables had been pushed around and there were black feathers and dead birds laying down everywhere.

Sadie chuckled at his question, trying to ease the tension and the adrenaline still rushing through her veins. She had to laugh at something or she would start crying.

“School is great.”

• • •

“Yeah, I see it. It’s two bands, right?” said Derek, flashing his glowing red eyes towards Scott’s arm.

Scott hummed in agreement.

Derek, who Sadie was finally meeting for the first time after hearing countless tales of him, came off to her as a much nicer guy than Stiles had described him to be. A bit dry and brooding, yes, but nothing she couldn’t get behind.

“What does it mean?”

Sadie and Stiles had left school right after the accident with the birds, too shaken up to go on with the rest of their lectures. Stiles had told her about the terrified deer that had run into Lydia’s car the day before and why he believed they had a reason to be worried about it after what had happened at english class. She trusted his instincts and if he was sure something was going on, then she believed him.

Scott had told them to meet him at Derek’s old house in the woods, without further explanation. Turns out, he had had a bit of an encounter at the hospital, where he had gone to after his mother had told him Isaac, another werewolf, had been badly injured by an alpha.

“I don’t know,” Scott replied. “It’s just something I trace with my fingers,” he drew a small circle surrounded by a bigger one on the dust that had accumulated on top of a table.

“Why is this so important to you?” Derek asked, referring to the tattoo on Scott’s arm that wasn’t visible to the human eye.

“Do you know what the word ‘tattoo’ means?”

“To mark something,” Stiles jumped in, playfully winking his eye at Derek, who only looked at him with an indifferent expression.

Sadie bit down on her lip, holding back a chuckle at their interaction.

“Well, that’s in Tahitian,” Scott continued talking. “In Samoan, it means ‘open wound’. I knew I wanted to get a tattoo when I turned 18, I always wanted one. I just decided to get it now, to make it kind of a reward.”

“For what?”

“For not calling or texting Allison all summer. Even when I really wanted to, even when it was hard sometimes. I was trying to give her the space she wants. Going four months later, it still hurts. It still feels like,”

“Like an open wound,” Sadie finished for him in a shaky voice. She knew a thing or two about open wounds.

He loves her so much, she thought. He understood she needed her space and time after her mother’s death, and he had refrained from contacting her all summer, even if it pained him. She admired him for that. She couldn’t fathom what having to stay away from someone you love felt like. She wouldn’t be able to.

The three men gazed at her, her eyes glinting and throat burning. She swallowed hard and tried to compose herself, blinking the tears away and twiddling her mother’s ring between her fingers. Stiles looked at her with a soft smile.

She hadn’t told him - or anyone, really - about her parents, all he knew is that she had been at foster care before they met her. Still, he could tell by the little things she had let slip here and there in between conversations, and he understood.

“The pain’s gonna be worse than anything you've ever felt,” Derek carried on, picking up a blowtorch and a lighter.

“Ah, that’s great.” Stiles pouted, nodding in nervousness at what was about to happen.

“I don’t know if I can look at it,” Sadie turned around, facing Stiles who looked as uneasy as her.

She didn’t feel like watching Scott in excruciating pain as Derek burned his arm with a freaking blowtorch. Stiles didn’t like the situation either.

“Do it.” Scott said convinced.

Derek proceeded lighting up the blowtorch and Sadie almost passed out.

“Oh, wow.” both Stiles and Sadie cried out at the same time.

“That’s a lot for me, so, I’m gonna take that as my cue. I’m just gonna go wait outside.” said Stiles, hands in his pockets and already exiting the room under Derek’s deathly stare.

“No, you stay,” Sadie pulled him back towards her. “Moral support.”

“You can help hold him down.”

Stiles walked behind Scott reluctantly and held onto his shoulders. “Oh my god,” he exclaimed as Derek got closer to Scott with the blowtorch.

Sadie crinkled her nose up as the fire made contact with his skin, his eyes glowing yellow and his fangs extending. She had to turn away and face the wall when his pain filled cries got louder. All she could hear were the earsplitting screams Scott was letting out as his skin boiled under the fire.

• • •

“Well, it looks pretty damn permanent now.” Surely enough, the two black lines had appeared on Scott’s bicep right after he had passed out from the pain.

“It looks great,” Sadie said sincerely, giving Scott a genuine smile.

“Thanks, I kinda needed something permanent.” Scott agreed. “Everything that’s happened to us, everything just changes so fast. Everything’s so...ephemeral.”

Both Sadie and Stiles stared at him with impressed faces at his usage of the advanced word. The three began walking out of the house and back to the jeep.

“Studying for the PSATs?” asked Stiles.

“Yup.”

“Nice.”

With a gleeful and proud smile, Scott opened the door, already stepping outside before he stopped dead on his tracks.

“You painted the door,” he pointed out to Derek, staring at the red door with narrowed eyes. “Why’d you paint the door?”

Now, that was weird. Why would Derek paint the door of his abandoned house? The place definitely needed a much bigger makeover than a layer of paint on a door.

“Go home, Scott.” Derek said with a defying tone.

“And why only one side?” Scott wondered again ignoring him, his brows furrowed. He flicked out his claws and scraped out the paint with one of his fingers.

“Scott,” Derek called out, walking towards him as he started scratching at the door furiously to remove the paint.

And surely enough, whatever inkling Scott had had about the newly painted door was, in fact, correct. A symbol was drawn under the paint. A symbol, or some kind of warning.

“The birds at school and the deer last night...just like the night I got trampled by the deer when I got bit by the alpha,” Scott was starting to put two and two together.

Derek didn’t look happy.

“How many are there?”

“A pack of them,” Derek sighed, finally giving in to Scott’s questions. “An alpha pack.”

Sadies eyes went wide.

How was that even possible? And what did the symbol on the door mean? How worried should they be?

“All of them? How does that even work?” Stiles asked, as if reading her mind.

“I hear there's some kind of a leader. He's called Deucalion,” Even the name sounded scary. “We know they have Boyd and Erica. Peter, Isaac, and I have been looking for him for the last four months.”

Sadie was still catching up with everything that Scott and Stiles had told her, but she recognized the names of Boyd and Erica as Derek’s betas.

They were just teenagers. They had been held by this alpha pack for four whole months? She was terrified now.

“Let's say you find them.” Scott stepped forward. “How do you deal with an Alpha pack?”

“With all the help I can get.

Sadie was ready to help. She couldn’t even imagine what the poor betas had been going through for months. They had to help them.

“Where is she?” Another voice suddenly jumped in. It was Isaac, another one of Derek’s betas who had been passed out on a table the whole time they had been there. He had just woken up from the anesthesia. “Where's the girl?” he inquired, a panicked look on his face.

Everyone else in the room looked at each other with the same confused expressions.

“What girl?”

[jordanstrophe]

Evercrest Island, part 5

CW: Whump, dislocation, kidnapped whumpee on a boat, restraints, manhandling, dragging, creepy whumper 

Masterlist

Eden laid defenselessly on the boat, his arms wrenched uncomfortably over his head latched on the rail. He was stuck listening to the ocean flowing beneath him, hours had passed and he hadn’t seen the man yet. He heard the clicking from his cane stamping into the metal platform above him, he couldn’t help to flinch every time it tapped around. The man's threats were stuck in his head, repeating over and over, he could easily kill him if he wanted to. He hadn’t yet so what kind of sign was that? He had to be smart if he wanted to get out of here alive.  

The loud tapping shuttered the stairs, as Thaddeus finally climbed down. Eden jumped up with posture, pressing himself further against the rail. The man looked down at him with a tilted smile, crouching next to him. 

“Look.” He motioned out into the ocean, in the distance, was a small island slowly getting closer. He could see a beach, trees surrounding it with a rooftop poking behind the treetops. Eden didn't take his eyes off it as he couldn’t help but to be fascinated and curious. That is, until horror twisted in his stomach, realizing he was being taken to a remote island in the middle of the ocean.

How was he going to escape this? What was even here? Where was his hope now?

“Wh-what is that?” Eden asked, panic cracking into his voice. He looked up at him with wide eyes darting with fear.

“A place we'll be staying at for a while.” He smiled, leaning his chin against the palm of his hand, reaching out to stroke a hand through Eden’s hair.

“Don’t touch me!” Eden barked, twisting his body to evade his touch. There was no way he was going to roll over for his kidnapper that easily. Thaddeus's face changed from amused, to annoyance, as he huffed before rising to his feet. Eden froze when he took in the height of the man, towering over his cringing fetal position.  

He took his cane, lightly touching it to his stomach. Eden gasped, squeezing his eyes shut waiting for the blow. This soon? Was he really going to hurt him this soon? Ge gasped when instead the rod was shoved beneath his shackles, ripping him to his feet by his wrists. 

“Up, on your feet. Let’s go.” He ordered, grabbing his arm and pulling him along. Eden’s entire forearm was almost covered by the grasp of the man’s hand, every resistance in his posture was met with a rough tug. The boat automatically parked at a long dock at the island, the whole boat jostled to a stop as his legs shook, having to use Thaddius weight to steady himself. He glanced around with a puzzled expression, who's controlling the boat if Thaddeus was right here? 

“Wait! What do you want with me?” He cried, his heart beating fast in his chest. 

“Hush now, just do what you’re told.” He grabbed his arm and hoisted him up the dock. The dock was rusted and rotten, falling apart in most areas, creaking beneath his feet. They reached a dirt trail through the forest leading to a massive structure, it almost looked like a lair. Just the sight of the building shot adrenaline through Eden’s body, as he stuck fight or flight mode. 

“Stop! I’m not going with you!” He yelled, pulling back on the man's weight. Thaddeus only sighed, reaching back with his other arm to grab his coat to get an extra grip, but Eden ducked under his arm, being much shorter had an advantages somewhere. He felt the grip on his arm tightening immensely, as he let out a yelp. He could tell that was just a fraction of his strength, but it was enough to hurt. He continued to fight back, as Thaddeus in return continued to drag him along by his arm. He was hardly on his feet anymore, desperately trying to fight away from his grasp. He dug one heel into the ground, swinging his other leg as hard as he could right into the back of his knee, as he jerked in surprise, losing his footing and grasp. Eden bolted from him, treading back down the hill, making it all of five precious yards before he was full on tackled from behind. 

He slammed to the ground, Thaddeus' whole weight pinning him down, as he moved his grasp down to his leg. 

“Wait! What are y-” His cries were cut off as his back was drug across the sharp rocky ground, letting out a cry. Thaddeus had one hand on his ankle, and the other on his leg as he drug him back up the hill by his legs. His waist wasn’t even touching the ground from their height difference, as his back grazed the dirt. He panicked and cried the whole way, till Thaddeus slammed open the metal rusted door, dust and rubble flying around it. 

He let most of his body hit the floor, but he still had a tight unforgiving grasp on his ankle.

“Do I need to break a leg?” He asked with a terrifyingly calm voice.

“N-No! Please n-no, don’t!” He huffed, out of breath as he cringing his whole body in submission. 

“I’m s-s-oryy... Please!” He cried, not able to control the tear that began to fall down his face. His whole body quaking with fear under the man's mercy standing over him, staring down at his collapsed figure, deciding his fate. 

He made his decision, pulling the cane from his side, slamming the tip into the ground next to Eden’s head, as he clamped into a curled defensive pose, covering his head with his bound wrists, the deafening slam echoing through the building. 

“p-please..” He whispered one last time.

“We could have done this the easy way...” He sighed, shaking his head with an exhale. A second hand wrapped around his ankle, as he heard the crack before he felt the pain. The bone in his foot twisted out of its socket as sharp pain shot through his ankle. He let out a sobbing cry as he arched his back off the floor, every tug and twitch trying to pull his leg only shot more stabbing pain. His cries shortly turned to whimpering sobs, as his leg was finally released. He immediately pushed himself sitting up, placing a shaking hand grabbing onto his jeans to try and cope with the twisting agony. 

Thaddeus crouched to his level, as Eden looked up at him with tearful eyes, both filled with fear and anger. 

“Are you going to cooperate now? We could have done this painlessly.” He said, with his eyes blazing cold with no sympathy. Eden reluctantly nodded his head with a bitten back sob. He didn’t have a choice.

He never did.

“Good boy.” His expression turned soft as he ruffled his hair. He flinched in response, but didn’t pull away this time. “I’m going to pick you up, okay?”

“O-okay.” He rasped, his voice cracking with a sad voice. Thaddeus gently wrapped his arms around his back and knees, weary not to jostle his legs as he carried him away.

@just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @heathenwhump @whumps-and-stuff @yet-another-heathen

(╯°□°）╯ *:･ﾟ✧ Thank you for reading!