#and it kind of feels like it COULD have gone that way but Fox (or someone high up at the show) said no to that idea

[elysiaheaven]

𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐩?-𝟖-(The Fox's Wedding)

words:2335

Jiaoqiu hold on your arm was tight as he pulled you away from Feixiao's watchful gaze, dragging you into a secluded corridor. The sudden movement startled you, and before you could protest, he pushed you against the wall with more force than you expected. Your back hit the surface hard, causing you to wince, but you quickly masked the pain with your usual confident smirk. You blinked, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes, slowly letting out a breath as you prepared for whatever lecture he had in store.

Jiaoqiu leaned in, his face close to yours, his breath uneven. His voice was low and seething with anger, "You're not going to betray anyone, you hear me? You're going to help people, do what you can, and if anything happens, you'll tell me."

The intensity in his eyes caught you off guard. You opened your mouth to retort, but his next words stopped you cold. "Don't mess this up, or so help me…"

You could see how much he was fighting to keep control. There was something raw in his tone that made you listen, but before you could respond, you noticed movement out of the corner of your eye. Someone was coming.

Jiaoqiu must have noticed too, because in a split second, his expression shifted, and without warning, he leaned down, pressing his lips against yours. Your eyes widened in surprise, and for a brief moment, your heart raced. But you weren't one to be caught off guard for long. Despite the shock, you instinctively kissed him back.

The sound of giggles echoed down the hallway, and you realized the people passing had seen the entire thing. They scurried away, whispering and laughing to themselves. You pulled back, looking up at Jiaoqiu with a playful smirk, trying to regain your composure.

"You didn't have to kiss me," you teased, your voice light but filled with amusement. "Though if you like it that much, you should just say so." You watched as his expression twisted, a mixture of disgust and discomfort flashing across his face. He quickly looked away, clearly regretting what he had done.

You couldn't help but smile to yourself, though there was an underlying bitterness in it. "You don't have to force yourself to show me any physical affection anymore," you added with a small, half-joking tone, though part of you meant it. You didn't want him to feel obligated, not when it was clear how much he hated it.

But inside, you wondered. Why had he kissed you so suddenly? And why did it bother you that he seemed to regret it? The confusion twisted in your chest as you kept your playful façade, your mind racing behind the mask.

You wandered around the injured soldiers, a false air of cheerfulness surrounding you as you smiled and treated their wounds. You were meticulous, almost too kind, as if trying to convince yourself and everyone else that you were a good person. Each bandage you wrapped, each herbal mixture you applied, you made sure to look like the perfect healer.

Jiaoqiu, meanwhile, worked silently by your side. His eyes betrayed nothing, his movements methodical and precise as he healed the soldiers with practiced ease. You noticed the way he avoided your gaze, how he kept a deliberate distance, only speaking when absolutely necessary. But no one else saw the tension.

When no one was looking, you floated above the ground, your body light as air as you drifted towards a small patch of herbs you had spotted earlier. They weren't anything particularly rare, but they would help. You gathered them in your hands, feeling the energy of the earth flow through them as you prepared to take them back.

The first day hadn't been bad. The soldiers were mostly stable, and your little performance as a 'good person' had gone off without a hitch. By afternoon, you and Jiaoqiu found yourselves alone again. He had made soup, and you gratefully accepted the bowl, holding it in your hands as you inhaled the warm, comforting scent.

You took a sip and tilted your head, tasting the blend of flavors. "It's good," you remarked with a grin, "but it could use some coriander." Your tone was light, almost teasing, as you looked at Jiaoqiu expectantly.

His response, however, was far from playful. He looked at you, dead-eyed, his expression flat and devoid of any amusement. "You won't use it," he said coldly, his voice firm and final, as if the mere suggestion of adding anything else to the soup was an offense.

Your eyes widened, and you couldn't help the giggle that escaped your lips, your mouth still stuffed with food. The absurdity of his response, combined with his serious expression, was too much for you to handle. You swallowed quickly, still laughing, and asked, "What, do you hate coriander or something?"

Jiaoqiu didn't answer. He simply stood up, his expression unchanged, and walked away without another word. His retreating figure only made you laugh harder, your giggles echoing in the empty room as you wiped a tear from your eye.

"Who knew he had such strong feelings about soup?" you muttered to yourself between fits of laughter, wondering what could possibly be going through his mind. After a while, he came back to make soup again. He told you to stick with him for a important 'lecture'.

Jiaoqiu stood over the pot of soup, stirring it with the same care and precision he used when healing wounds. His demeanor was serious, as though this act of cooking was a sacred duty. "Cooking," he began, "is not so different from healing. You combine elements with care, balancing flavors like you would balance a treatment. It nourishes the body, helps recovery."

You listened, leaning against the counter with an amused smile, your eyes sparkling with amusement. "And what about coriander?" you teased.

Jiaoqiu paused, his gaze stern. "Coriander disrupts the balance. Its flavor is too strong, too overpowering. It ruins what should be delicate and harmonious."

You couldn't help but laugh. "You're making it sound like a life-or-death situation," you chuckled. "It's just a bit of coriander, not some forbidden elixir."

He raised an eyebrow but didn't respond, clearly unimpressed with your casual dismissal of his cooking philosophy. You, however, found the whole thing hilarious. "Alright, alright," you relented, standing up straighter. "I'll prepare the rest of the food, then."

Jiaoqiu glanced at you skeptically. "Can you even cook?" he asked, his tone betraying his doubt.

You nodded confidently, a mischievous grin tugging at your lips. "I used to have a restaurant for sweets, back in the day. I know my way around the kitchen." Without waiting for him to protest, you set to work, gathering ingredients and preparing a new batch of soup. The kitchen was soon filled with the aroma of herbs and spices, and you felt a certain sense of nostalgia as you moved through the familiar motions of cooking.

When the soup was ready, you ladled out a small sample and handed it to Jiaoqiu, watching with anticipation as he tasted it. His expression remained neutral, but you noticed a brief flicker of surprise in his eyes. "It's… good," he admitted, his voice as even and emotionless as ever.

You giggled, clearly pleased with yourself. "I used coriander," you said, a playful lilt in your voice.

For a moment, Jiaoqiu froze, the spoon still in his hand. He quietly placed the bowl down, his face unreadable, and without another word, he turned and walked away.

Your laughter bubbled up again, louder this time. "Oh, come on! It wasn't that bad!" you called after him, but he was already gone. You shook your head, amused by his stubbornness. "Maybe one day he'll come around," you muttered to yourself, still giggling as you continued cooking.

He did come back and just was focusing on cooking food for Feixiao. it seems.

You were finishing up in the kitchen, a soldier rushed into the room, his face pale with panic. "Come quickly!" he gasped. "There's a soldier… something's wrong with him. He's hurting the others!"

Your playful mood immediately shifted, a dark, knowing smile tugging at your lips as you wiped your hands and followed the soldier out. Jiaoqiu noticed the sudden change in your demeanor and hurried to follow as well, though his steps were more hesitant.

When you arrived, you saw the scene—a lone soldier in the middle of the camp, his eyes wild and crazed, lashing out at anyone who came near him. The other soldiers were backing away, confused and frightened. Blood dripped from his hands as he swung wildly, his movements erratic, as if something had taken hold of him.

You approached slowly, your presence drawing the attention of everyone around you. The air grew heavier as you neared the soldier, the power within you stirring in response to the chaos. A sly smile curled on your lips as you realized you could now twist his mind further—make him harm not only others but himself.

The man's eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, he stopped moving. His frantic breathing slowed, and then, without warning, he began clawing at his own skin, screaming in agony. The other soldiers watched in horror as he continued to tear at himself, unable to stop.

Jiaoqiu grabbed your arm, his face a mixture of anger and fear. "What are you doing? Stop it!" he hissed, trying to pull you back.

But you only smirked, your eyes glowing with an eerie light. "I'm not doing anything," you said, your voice dripping with false innocence. "He's doing it to himself. I'm merely… watching."

The soldier let out another guttural scream, his voice growing hoarse. The other soldiers tried to restrain him, but he was too strong, his movements fueled by a force beyond their understanding. "Make it stop!" someone shouted.

Jiaoqiu's grip tightened on your arm, his eyes pleading. "This isn't healing. This is madness."

You tilted your head, looking at him with mock curiosity. "Isn't it fascinating?" you whispered, stepping closer to the soldier as his body convulsed with pain. "The things people will do when their minds are twisted just right." You could feel the power surging within you, dark and intoxicating. But then, a part of you hesitated.

The man's cries grew weaker, his body falling to the ground in a heap. You released your grip on his mind, and he lay there, panting and broken, but alive.

Jiaoqiu pulled you back sharply, his face pale. "You can't keep doing this," he muttered, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and anger. "You'll destroy everything, including yourself."

You looked at him, your eyes narrowing slightly, but then you shrugged. "I was just helping in my own way. Isn't that what you wanted? For me to help?"

Jiaoqiu didn't respond, but his expression said everything.

"This man is dangerous…You! Hey, Don't go closer!" You wanted to scream.

Jiaoqiu stepped closer to the soldier-turned-monster, his face twisted in disgust and surprise. The creature's body convulsed and morphed, revealing its true Borisin form—a grotesque abomination that snarled in his direction, its claws ready to strike.

Before it could make a move, you levitated swiftly, the air around you crackling with energy. Your kitsune mask hid your expression, but the malice in your actions was unmistakable. With a flick of your wrist, you unleashed your power, forcing the Borisin to turn against itself, its claws slicing through its own flesh. The camp watched in stunned silence as the creature writhed in agony, its monstrous strength no match for the control you held over it.

The soldiers stood frozen in place, unsure whether to run or watch in awe. Jiaoqiu, though horrified, couldn't look away as you descended further into this dark spectacle.

The Borisin fell to the ground, bloodied and broken, you descended gently, your feet barely touching the ground as you landed beside it. With a slow, deliberate movement, you removed your mask, revealing the eerie smile that twisted your features. The creature's eyes flickered with recognition and fear as it tried to call out for Hoolay.

Of course, you could understand these creatures…Hoolay's imprisoned he won't be out anytime soon! She made sure… 

You knelt beside the Borisin, leaning close, your voice a low, sinister whisper. "Dear, Hoolay won't come. He's imprisoned…If he does…I'll just kill him like I'm doing for you. It's a blessing!" you said, your words dripping with a promise of doom. The Borisin's eyes widened in terror, its body trembling as it tried to comprehend the fate that awaited it.

Without waiting for a response, you raised your hand, dark energy swirling around your fingers. With a single gesture, you finished the creature off, its body crumbling into nothingness before the shocked eyes of the soldiers around you.

Jiaoqiu watched in stunned silence, his expression a mixture of fear, disgust, and something else—something darker. He knew what you were capable of, but seeing it unfold before him in such a way was a stark reminder of the true power you held.

You stood up, the soldiers murmured among themselves, unsure of what to say or do. You smiled, satisfied with your work, and glanced at Jiaoqiu. "Is this what you wanted, healer?" you asked sweetly, though the edge in your voice was unmistakable.

Jiaoqiu didn't respond immediately, his mind racing as he processed what had just happened. His red eyes met yours, and for a moment, there was a flicker of something—perhaps fear, perhaps something else. Finally, he turned away, muttering under his breath. "Just don't lose control," he said quietly, but his voice lacked conviction.

You smiled again, this time softer, and tilted your head. "Don't worry," you whispered, more to yourself than to him. "I know exactly what I'm doing."

[exhuastedpigeon]

As amazing and satisfying as Eddie's season 5 arc was, him realizing he's queer during that arc would have made SO much narrative sense and in my opinion we were robbed of that storyline.

Eddie's season 5 starts with him having a panic attack over the idea of his long term girlfriend being called the mother of his child. A literal doctor tells him 'it could be repression' about his panic attacks. He dumps said long-term girlfriend in a disaster zone of a kitchen by telling her "maybe you should go home".

They could have had the latter half of season 5 for Eddie stay pretty similar, but show him being petty and bitchy to Josh not just because Josh tells him what to do sometimes, but because Eddie is resentful of Josh being a happy, out, gay man.

They could have had the therapy still be about his PTSD but dived even deeper into his childhood trauma. That line to Buck when he says he's worried he'll never feel normal again? That should very easily be about both his war and firefighter related PTSD but ALSO about his religious trauma and his fear of 'not being normal' because he's queer.

The conversation he has with his dad in El Paso, where he says he isn't just getting better for Christopher he's doing it for himself? That could have been a moment where he tells his dad that he's not straight and we could have had a beautiful and complex moment where Ramon Diaz, a man who does truly love his son, has to reckon with the fact that his kid hated this part of himself because of how he was raised.

Season 5 makes sense for Eddie to have discovered this part of himself, even if he keeps it quiet. Hell, him not telling people but knowing it about himself makes his season 6 attempts to date women and feeling like he's performing even richer.

[lowkeyerror]

The Family Business Ch.3

WandNat x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Chapter Notes: Mentions of death, violence, underaged drinking, slight mentions of SA, lisichka=little fox

Summary: Natasha has heard stories of you from Wanda. It has her doubting your current day skill level. With Dragos and Wanda in a meeting, you get the chance to tell her a bit about the person you've become.

An: Finally something between Y/n and Natasha (I say finally as if this isn't chapter 3 lol) Anyway enjoy this chapter and see you back next week.

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

You could feel Natasha’s eyes on you as you worked. It was tedious work, but you typed away with a smile on your face regardless.  You thought that maybe she’d pick up her phone or something, but she seemed to just watch you.

“You want to ask me something or you just going to keep staring?” You kept your eyes on the computer screen as you addressed her.

“You’re different than Wanda said you’d be,” was all that she said.

You finally looked at the red head, “Well like I said, it’s been a while since she has seen me. A lot has changed in the years she’s been gone.”

“Like what?”

You paused your work to give Natasha your full attention. You sat back fully in your chair pondering back to the last time you saw Wanda. “Well, she left before I graduated. Back then I thought I was going to take my degrees, find an honest job, and live a normal life. I was fragile, even after the self-defense training. I hadn’t held a gun, I hadn’t hacked into anything, I was just a little girl.”

“And now?”

You gesture around you, “Now, I have this nice office. I crunch numbers for the most high-profile company in town, that just happens to be a front for a criminal organization. I have 2 degrees, I can defend my family and myself, I’ve shot a gun more times than I can count, and I could hack into anything that you could imagine.”

“You’ve got a ledger?” The line about the gun seemed to stick out to Natasha.

You shrug your shoulders, “I’ve carried my weight.”

“How many?”

The question startles you a bit. It was so candid as if she was asking about the weather. You could see them, the people you had killed. It wasn’t a large number, not even in the double digits, but still.

“7.” You don't know what compelled you to keep speaking,” I remember all of them. What is it they say about the first one? You will never forget it. I was 20, it was before I joined the organization. Pietro had dragged me to some party.”

“I take it you weren’t a party animal back then?”

You chuckle and shake your head, “Not even a little so I did what everyone does to get comfortable at a party. I took a few shots, it was stupid. As a light weight and someone not of legal drinking age, I should've been more careful. The shots had loosened me up, so I was enjoying the party for awhile. I lost Pietro at some point, but I was too drunk to notice.”

You see Natasha frown a bit, but you continue, “The host of party finds me on the dance floor. We dance for a while; we don't say much, just hi. Someone spilled a drink on me while we were dancing. He offered to get me a new shirt. Like the innocent little idiot I was, I followed him up to his room.”

You paused, almost feeling like you were back in that moment. You could feel everything again, your skin was hot and sweaty, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up, you could feel him on you.

Natasha could sense she lost you to the memory. She got up from the couch in your office to make her way towards you. She took a seat on the edge of your desk and pulled your hands into hers. “What happened in his room?”

“He tried to take advantage of me. He tore my shirt off just so his gross hands could grope my skin. He pulled me against him fiddled with his belt before trying mine. His breath was hot on my neck as he peppered kisses on my collarbone. When his hand slipped into my pants, is when it really clicked in my head. I had told him to stop, but he wouldn’t. You know the kind of guys that say, ‘you want this’ or ‘you teased me all night’ or ‘You’re the one half naked in my room’. He was one of those, no wasn’t going to cut it.”

Natasha squeezes your hand as you recount the harsh memory. It looks like you could cry right there in the office. Then all of a sudden, the tears pooling in your eyes are gone. A blank expression takes over your face.

“For a minute, I pretend I’m into what this creep is doing to me. Only enough for him to loosen his grip on me. At this point my back was against his front. I reach behind his head, like my arms trying to loop to bring him closer. Except one of my hand rests on top of his head and the other one is on the opposite side of his jaw. I snapped his neck. His body hit the floor like a sack of potatoes.”

“Y/n- “

“I threw up when I saw him. After I was done, I called Pietro, he found me upstairs with the body. He felt so guilty for leaving me, but I could tell he was surprised too. So surprised that fragile little Y/n had snapped someone’s neck.”

Natasha’s eyes bored into yours, “That asshole deserved that. He deserved worse.”

“He didn’t rest even in death. Dragos made sure of it. He made that family’s life a living hell. It was a message to the entire city that I was under their protection. If anyone so much as laid a finger on me there would be dire consequences.”

A silence filled the room. Natasha didn't remove her hand from yours and you didn't ask her too. You glanced back at your computer, knowing you had to finish your work.

“Wanda never said you were fragile, just delicate,” Natasha’s fingers drew patterns on your hand.

You shake your head, “Wanda has always had a way with turning something negative into a positive. I never saw the difference between the two words, but she’d always say- “

“Fragile things break quickly into millions of pieces under the slightest pressure,” Natasha starts as if she had been there when Wanda said it to you.

“If you were fragile, you wouldn’t be here with us. You’re delicate, beautiful, intricate, and deserve to be handled with care,” you finish with a fond smile on your lips.

“For what it’s worth, I think she was right,” Natasha returns to her space on the couch to allow you to keep working.

She finally pulls out her phone seeming to have relaxed a bit because of your vulnerability. You want to refocus on work, but there are some questions that are nagging you about the woman in your office.

“How did you two meets? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Natasha ponders a minute for a suitable answer, and you take note of it, “The short version is that we met at work.”

You raise an eyebrow, “And what did you do for work?”

“Guess.”

You let your eyes look over the woman. You took in her relaxed posture, the muscles hiding under her shirt, the way she allowed you to be vulnerable with her, the mischievous glint in her eye. She was a multifaceted woman, you could tell.

“Spy, a Russian spy to be exact.”

Natasha seems slightly surprised, “How’d you guess Russian?”

“Romanoff sounds suspiciously close to Romanov, common last name in old Russia.”

“You’re a smart lisichka aren’t you?”

A blush takes over your features, “Little fox is new, but you’re stalling, Natasha.”

She crosses her arms across her chest, “Well I was formerly spy, turned into assassin for hire. I was anonymously hired to kill Wanda.”

“Too charming to kill?”

Natasha sighs, “I tried, but she was just too good. We started this rivalry, playful banter, suggestive tones, I spent a lot of time trapped under her thighs. It got to the point where I didn’t want to kill her, I had terminated the contract, but I just kept coming around to see her. She told me that my skills were being wasted on petty assassinations, when I could be working for her. I said the only way I’d consider was if she went out with me. The rest is history.”

“Leave it to Wanda to seduce an assassin.”

Natasha laughs, “Hey, she only seduced me because I let her.”

“Whatever you say super spy. I’ve got to finish this work before we have to leave for dinner.”

“Flora might have your head if you show up late,” Natasha comments.

You press the small button on your desk, “Thanks for reminding me. Kate, do you think you could get me some hydrangeas for Mrs.Maximoff.”

“Of course, Y/nn, anything for you,” she responds cheerfully.

You roll your eyes, “Thanks Katie.”

With that you're back to working. Though Natasha pulls out her phone, you still feel her eyes on you at time. It sends shivers up your spine, yet you don't want her to stop looking.

Taglist: @natashaswife4125 @autorasexy @alexawynters @blkmxrvel @toouncreativeforausername

[tornado1992]

Sonic is acting strange.

From the moment he entered the cave at the top of the mountain and going on even after Shadow finished the battle, he was more energetic, talking faster than usual, to his friends’s eyes happier than they had ever seen him before. But deep inside his mind and heart, he felt more melancholic than anything.

Rouge said something about to going visit Shadow, wherever he’d gone, though it’s not probable that Shadow would gift her a powerful gem of inter dimensional proportions, it’s still a possibility. He finds himself comfortable with the idea of either of them guarding it, after all, Shadow would never let it bring chaos to their lives again, and now he knows Rouge it’s a better leader than he could ever be, they both would make the right call.

Sparring with Knuckles was as much of a way to get the stress out of his system as it is a reminder that the guardian isn’t a glory driven danger prone sailor, nor a extremely paranoid jungle survivor, and definitely not a soldier willing to hit an 8 year old if it means saving the world, no, he’s just Knucks. Ready to put him back in his tracks every time he goes off, same old Knucklehead.

Asking Amy to help him bake a cake to celebrate their victory on the mountain took her by surprise, not expecting Sonic to have the consideration or patience to think about and prepare that kind of gift just so their friends would enjoy it together. But what really shook her to the core was how many times he thanked her through the making, in his mind just one of those “thank you” was for the cake, the rest of them were for everything else.

Tails knows Sonic is acting strange.

it wasn’t just the sudden consideration on his words and actions, but also the eagerness to just spend time with them, an insane amount of time in which he paid attention to everyone and everything, he looked to the sea as if it was more of a new racetrack than an obstacle to his speed, he turned his sight to the sky as if he’d forgotten it was blue, and gazed to the palm trees as if he’d never seen one before. But most of it all, between his friends and the rest of the world, Sonic was looking at him.

It wasn’t the normal look he’d give him everyday, being the only one Sonic hadn’t been alone with since the mountain battle was weird enough, they would usually race and joke together after every battle, but not this time; Sonic was actively keeping him at arms length while never getting his eyes off of him, It didn’t matter who was Sonic talking to or what was he doing, if Tails was around, he was looking at him.

Every time he was smiling he would look back to see if he was smiling too, when one of his friends tried to approach him Sonic would instantly get in their way without any more reason than to talk to them, if there was a sudden movement or loud noise Sonic would turn to him as if to expect him to be gone, the calmness in his body being noticeable every time he found him.

It felt wrong, it felt distant, it felt as if he was a problem. He hasn’t felt like this in years.

Hours and hours later when their friends finally got too tired of watching Sonic’s odd behavior they all went their own way for the night, with Rouge just disappearing in the dark, Knuckles claiming he had places to be, and Amy saying the day had drained her and she needed sleep, Sonic and Tails were finally alone.

The walk to Tails’ lab was quick, but quiet. The silence prevailed all the way before they entered the house and closed the door, then it wasn’t quiet anymore.

With the way Sonic practically launched himself over Tails knocking the air out of him as he hugged the kit tightly, both falling to the floor as Sonic held him against his chest with one hand while the other one placed itself securing the fox’s head just below Sonic’s chin. Tails was quiet, way too shocked with the sudden affection after a whole day of being so close while feeling so far away. But Sonic’s sobs and whimpers weren’t quiet at all.

They were loud and broken, not forming any comprehensible words as hiccups broke in every time it seemed like he was actually trying to say something, as if he held back from crying for hours, It felt guilty, sorrowful, and desperate.

Tails found himself breaking his silence and asking repeatedly “what’s wrong?!” as he reciprocated the hug just for Sonic to tighten his arms around him, breaking into fully crying this time, with a sea of tears falling from the speedster’s eyes to the genius’ head, not letting him go even for a second, not loosening his grip after what felt like hours of holding his little brother, who held him back just as tightly.

Even if the tears stopped, their embrace didn’t, with the morning warmth closer than midnight’s coldness the blue hedgehog found himself surrounding the sleepy fox as he fought sleep’s calling to stay with his big brother.

“I love you” was muttered to the boy’s ears as he was claimed by the land of dreams, in which he could fly all day with the shining star he called his brother.

Tails wasn’t sure if that whisper was part of his dream. Sonic knew it wasn’t

[ninii-winchester]

Timeless Love

Pairing : Dean Winchester X Reader

Word count : 3.7k

Warnings : angst, s12 ep 6 (spoilers), canon violence, mentions of demons, slight mention of john winchester, mentions of amara (slight spoiler), taylor swift reference (?), fluff. Not proofread.

Part 2 to Fleeting Love.

A/n: I don’t remember what exactly happened in that episode i just winged it.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

Leaving was the hardest thing Dean had to do other than breaking Y/n's heart. He cried himself to sleep every night after seeing her looking like a shell of herself at school. He missed her smile and he missed being the reason of her smile. How could he let himself fall for someone, when he knew he could never have that kind of life. Loving her was the best and the worst decision of his life. Best because he got to know what love actually feels like and worst because he knows he'd never find anything like that ever again. He wouldn't allow himself to love anyone else in this lifetime. She was his first and last love.

Dean had left town, and Y/n was still picking up the pieces of a shattered heart. Days turned into weeks, but the ache never dulled. Every time she walked by the places they'd shared—her favorite diner, the lakeside road where they'd stargazed—the memories rushed in like a flood. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't outrun the ghost of him.

As much as she wanted to hate him, part of her would always him. He was her first love, her first kiss and her first time. Deep down she knew it had everything to do with his father but his betrayal was still fresh in her mind. She knew her Dean wouldn't do that her but she wished he'd stood against his father. She wished he would've fought for their love. If only she knew the reason he couldn't do it.

Fifteen years had come and gone, and Y/n had built a life—one filled with new memories, a different kind of happiness. But despite the time and distance, her heart remained anchored to a love she never truly let go of. It wasn't that she was stuck in the past; she had moved on in every way that mattered. Yet, in the quiet moments, when the world fell still, it was Dean's face she saw, his voice she heard, as if time had never touched the feelings she carried for him.

Y/n let out a sigh as she waited for her flight to be announced. She was going to Canada for a wake of the man who saved her life. She vividly remembered six years ago, she was coming back from work and a huge dog like creature attacked her. She wouldn't have believed had she not seen it with her own eyes. It was a werewolf.

She dug into the supernatural, surprised by the sheer amount of lore tied to what was already known. Myths, legends, and creatures she once thought were just stories had entire histories woven into the fabric of the world she knew.

Asa Fox was the one that killed the thing and rescued her. Now he was no more. She owed it him to atleast pay her final respects to him.

Hours later she landed in Canada and made her way towards Asa's mother's house. It was late at night when she arrived. She stepped inside and noticed a small crowd gathered in the living room, while others lingered in the kitchen and a few more were out in the backyard. They were all lost in conversation, sharing memories and stories of the brave hunter they had come together to mourn. The air was heavy with both grief and respect as they honored the life he'd lived.

She'd found Asa's mother and paid her condolences to her, recounting how her son had saved her life and how she looked up to him. The older woman nodded and Y/n took it as her cue to leave her alone. She walked the hallway and bumped into someone, she quickly apologised and looked up to them and all the air seemed to leave her lungs.

"You.." she choked on her words and the other person looked at her in mild confusion and threw her an anticipatory glance. "Mary Winchester." Y/n finally spoke. The older woman tried to rack her brain if she knew the woman infront of her but her mind remained blank.

Y/n had seen photos of Dean's mother in his room also in his wallet and she adored how much he loved his mother. Her mind went haywire thinking back to when he told her his mother died in a house fire. Did he lie? Why would he though? Thousands of thoughts ran into her mind as she thought back to her relationship with the Winchester. Even after fifteen years he's still vivid in her head. Did everything he tell her was a lie? Was Dean even his real name.

Y/n could feel herself hyperventilate and she immediately wanted to put space between the supposedly dead woman and herself. She went to the kitchen to grab herself some water. There were only two people in the kitchen, a woman with a pixie cut and a man taller than anyone she had ever seen. She grabbed a water bottle chugging it down and calming her heartbeat. She took a deep breath before speaking,

"Uhm sorry to intrude but, is a Mary Winchester out there?" She questioned the couple gesturing towards the hallway she came from. The man looked at her with a unreadable look in his eyes.

"Yeah." The woman responded.

Y/n sighed, — atleast I'm not going crazy. She thought to herself. But if that's Dean's mom, what on earth is she doing here?

"You're Y/n." The man said. It wasn't a question. He knew her. She craned her neck to look up at his face and she furrowed her brows.

"I'm sorry have we met before?" She questioned taking a step forward. A sad smile appeared on his face. The woman beside him looked at him expectantly waiting for his reply.

"You seriously don't remember me?" He chuckled and she shook her head.

"I'm sorry, but I'd remember if I had met someone as big as you." She replied leaning on the counter behind her.

"I wasn't this big when we met Y/n/n." Sam spoke and the nickname made her eyes flash with recognition but it was quickly overtaken by the hurt that came with those memories.

"Sammy." It just slipped out. She didn't mean to call him by that name, but when he called her y/n/n, it came out subconsciously. Her heart started beating loudly at the thought of his brother being here. She had never thought she'd ever meet Dean Winchester ever again and she was not ready.

Sam knew whatever happened between her and his brother hurt her more than anything and he wouldn't blame her if she up and left without a word, but he'd missed her. And he missed the man his brother was when he was with Y/n. After her, he was just a shell of a man, running on his father's commands like a soldier. Someone who seemed to let go off every emotion and just waiting for his father's next order.

Sam introduced Y/n to the woman beside him as sherrif Jody Mills and she was good friend.

"How're you Y/n?" Sam asked and she looked at him remembering the small kid she used help with homework.

"Been good. How about you?" Sam scoffed at her question. If only she knew how he's been. And how his brother's been. Coming back from the dead, hell, purgatory. She'd probably throw a chair at him for making up all this bullshit.

"Good yeah." Sam nodded. Y/n could hear footsteps approaching and prayed it wasn't who she thought it was. God knew she didn't want to see him. Maybe she hadn't been a good person, and this was her punishment, because Dean Winchester walked into the kitchen, her breath caught in her lungs.

"Sammy where the he-" Dean words got caught in his mouth as his gaze landed on her.

Y/n looked at the man she had loved and hoped that after all these years, she'd have fallen out of love with him. But one look and her heart started thudding against her ribcage. He had aged, but somehow, he was even more handsome. He was muscular now, his arms toned beneath his layers, and she could see it all. She could feel her eyes water and she didn't want to create a scene at someone's wake, she pushed past Sam and left the space with a word.

Dean stood frozen, he couldn't believe he'd run into her here of all places. The sight of her brought back a flood of memories and feelings he thought he had buried long ago. Despite the years and the changes, she was just as beautiful as he remembered. But then he wondered why was she here? Is she a relative? Does she know about the supernatural? Or worse is she a hunter?

He didn't know the answer to his questions but he knew one thing, that them meeting again after fifteen years was fate. And he'd be damned if he let go off her ever again. He'd do anything in his power to win her back because God knows he's been miserable since the minute he broke up with her. Without wasting another second Dean went behind her. He could see her going to the backyard and taking in deep breaths.

"Y/n." He said approaching her.

"Go away Dean.”

“Just hear me out once.” He pleaded.

“I don't want to hear any more of your lies." Her voice cracked as she spoke and Dean knew she was on the verge of crying.

"Lies? What lies?" He asked holding her arm and turning her to look at him. She shrugged her arm out of his grip and pulled away harshly.

"Maybe you have a bad memory Dean, fifteen years isn't that long of a time to forget about it." She snapped glaring at him. "Need I remind you of your lies? My mom died when I was four! She's inside I've seen her with my own eyes." She yelled. "I love you Y/n! And the very next day after breaking up with me I see you making out with some cheerleader. You don't do that to someone you love." She cried pushing at his chest. "You're a goddamn liar so leave me the fuck alone like you did that night at the park."

Each and every word pierced through him like a needle. It was worse than spending forty years in Hell. He knew he'd hurt her and deserved everything she threw his way, but hearing her think that he didn't love her—it just broke his heart. He never lied about his love for her.

"Y/n, baby please let me explain. I swear I'll tell you everything." He said holding her hand and she pushed him again.

"Don't touch me. And I don't need your explanations." She wiped her tears. "I'm not here for you I'm here for Asa." Dean felt a pang of jealousy at the late hunter's name and he wondered if they'd had something before he died. Is that why she's here. He completely forgot it's been fifteen years and there might be a possibility that she'd moved on. 

"How do you even know him?" He couldn't but ask. His jealousy getting the better of him.

"That is none of your concern." She retorted sharply.

"Sweetheart please hear me out." Dean begged and she moved to go back inside but the doors were locked.

"What the hell?" She tried turning the doorknob but it didn't budge. The two of them were locked out. Dean tried pushing the door but to no avail.

"Hello Dean." Dean turned to see Billie standing there and she was smirking almost evilly.

"Billie what are you doing here?" He asked the reaper. And she told him she's here to do what she does. She's here to take everyone who's inside. Dean asked her what's happening inside and she tells him a demon's got them locked inside and something about vengeance. He had to save Sam, his mom and Jody. Dean tells her to open the door for him and let him go inside, she makes him a deal to never interfere in the natural order of things and he agrees as long as she lets him inside.

"Dean what the hell is going on?" Y/n was now scared. Although she was well aware of supernatural theoretically but she was in no way prepared to fight. And demons? She didn't know those were real too.

"I'll explain later." Dean replied as calmly as possible. "Billie, I need you to keep her safe, please." Dean requested and the reaper raised her brow.

"Dean, I can either keep her safe or let you inside. I'm getting one thing out of this deal, and you're getting only one too." His jaw clenched at her words and he was internally cursing her for being a bitch.

"Fine. Get us in." He begrudgingly told the reaper and she created an opening in the door. Dean turned to Y/n and cupped her face in his large hands. "We're going in, but you gotta trust me, sweetheart. Stay by my side and I'll protect you." Y/n thought he was completely out his wits asking her to go inside a place where there's a demon.

"Time's of essence Dean." Billie commented and he glared at her. He held Y/n's hand and before she knew the two of them were inside. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw Sam, Jody and his mom alive, and even the others. Sam filled him in how the demon had cut off the water supply and locked all the doors. Y/n was terrified of being locked in a house with a demon but Dean held her close to him. His hand gripping hers tightly.

They all gathered in the living room to make a devils trap to trap whoever the demon was possesing and to keep themselves safe, being inside it.

"Dean who was that outside?" Y/n questioned her voice a quiet whisper.

"That was Billie she's a reaper." Dean replied moving her into the devils trap. She looked at him wide eyed.

"A reaper? The one that takes souls?" She questioned and he nodded. "You're acquainted with a reaper? What the fuck?" Before either of them could say any further Jody accused Mary of being possessed since her was last one to come into the room.

Sam and Dean tensed at her accusation of their mom being possessed but then Mary stepped into the devil's trap and moved out proving she's not it. Then Jody started cackling evilly, saying that was clever of Mary. With a flick of her hand she wooshed the trap, then she started attacking everyone one by one taunting them. She threw the twins across the wall and then slammed Mary in the door. She moved her hand towards Y/n but Dean pushed her behind him and the demon made him fly in the wall. Y/n was left unguarded and demon closed in on her. Sam neared them but possessed Jody threw him in the cabinet.

Y/n screamed as the demon neared her she inched backwards, her body trembling with fear. Dean watched as Jody wrapped her hand around Y/n's neck, he got up on his feet and pushed Jody away from her, not too harshly to not hurt his friend's body. He wrapped his body over her, shielding her body with his' and Sam started chanting the incantation to exorcise the demon out of Jody. The twins joined them and then Mary finished it off sending the demon back to hell.

The lights flickered back on and everyone was relieved at last. Y/n clutched Dean's shirt in her hands and hid her face in his chest. "You're fine..it's gone." He rubbed her back soothingly. "Hey sweetheart, look at me." Dean made her pull away slightly and placed his fingers underneath her chin making her look at him. "You okay?" She shook her head, no.

An hour later, Y/n was wrapped up in Dean's jacket, his mind drifting off to the first time he'd lend her his jacket and how it was their new beginning. He wondered if it was a sign of their another new beginning together. She sat on the hood of the Impala and the boys stood in front of her.

"What. The. Hell. Was. That?" She looked at Sam and Dean, while Mary and Jody watched their interaction for afar. "I mean I know werewolves and Vampires but demons? Reapers?" Dean grabbed her hand and brushed his thumb over the back of her hand.

"How'd you know about Werewolves and Vampires?" Dean asked softly and she told him how she was attacked by a werewolf and Asa saved her. And she researched a bit about the supernatural and Dean nodded in understanding. He shot Sam a glance and younger understood and left them alone.

"Sweetheart, I'll explain everything and I'll tell you why I left. You see I'm a hunter, my parents were too. I've grown up in this life. My mom did die when I was four. A demon killed her. My dad wanted us to find that demon and kill him. When I met you, I forgot all about it. I wanted to be a normal boy, I did love you with everything I had." She looked up at his eyes and they were sincere, different from when he broke her heart. It wasn't like he was holding back, or hiding something. "My dad, he didn't want you to get involved or me to lose focus. He told me that I should break your heart so you can move on with you life." Dean explained.

"I did move on with my life Dean." He shut his eyes not wanting to see the look on her face when she tells him she found someone else. "But I couldn't love anyone else. You made me question my worth, because, fuck it I was in love. And fuck you Dean for I couldn't have us."

"I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to make you question your worth, hell I wanted to show you how much you mean to me, I just wanted to keep you safe, away from this life. You aren't even back in my life for less two hours and look at this mess. I don't even want to think of what harm I would've caused you if you'd been with me all those years." He looked apologetic. "As for my mom, God's sister brought her back."

"Who THE FUCK?" She looked dumbfounded.

"It's long story." Dean chuckled. "All I'm saying is I've loved you this whole time and I only broke up with you because I didn't want you be in danger and because my dad said it was for the best." He rubbed the back of his head, half ashamed.

"Where's your dad?" She asked after few minutes of silence.

"He died, a few years ago." Dean replied gloomily.

"I'm sorry." Even if the man was the reason for her heartbreak she didn't feel good about him being dead. After all he was Dean's father. Dean nodded. "What now?"

"We could try again, that is if you want to. I'm tired of not being with you. I feel meeting you again after all these years, it's fate." Dean said softly. "And I still love you so fucking much." He rested his forehead against her.

"I still love you too, Dean." She whispered. The tension between them hangs in the air, heavy and charged. Without another word, Dean cups Y/N's face, his thumb gently brushing their cheek. There's a moment of hesitation, a breath, and then he leans in, capturing their lips in a passionate kiss.

The kiss is deep, intense, filled with all the unspoken emotions they've both been holding back. Dean pulls Y/N closer, as if trying to convey everything he couldn't say in words. For that moment, it's just the two of them, lost in the heat of the kiss. When they finally pull back, both breathless, Dean's forehead rests against Y/N's, his eyes still closed.

"Being away from you was worse than going to hell."

"As if you'd know what hell’s like." She replied rolling her eyes. Dean pulled away, his eyes filled with mischief.

"Oh I do, I went to hell, i was there for forty years."

"You're lying." She gave him a look and he shook his head.

"I'm not. I went to hell and then Castiel the angel pulled me out. Who by the way is now my best friend."

"SAMMY? HE'S LYING ISN'T HE??" She yelled to the younger Winchester and Dean barked out a laugh at her reaction. Sam didn't know what she was on about so he laughed too.

"You've got a lot of catching up to do, sweetheart." Dean said while helping her down off the hood. He threw an arm over her shoulder and dragged her towards his mom. "Mom this is Y/n. My highschool sweetheart." He said pecking her temple.

“Nice to meet you Mrs. Winchester.” Y/n said extending her hand for her to shake but Mary pulled her into a hug.

“Call me Mary. And welcome to the family.” She smiled. Dean grinned, watching the exchange with a sense of pride. Mary’s embrace made Y/n feel instantly at ease. Mary pulled back slightly, her eyes twinkling with warmth. “I’ve heard so much about you, it’s wonderful to finally put a face to the name.”

“You have?” She questioned looking at Dean who looked away shyly.

“Yeah, I’m sorry I wasn’t around the first time.” Mary joked and Y/n let out an awkward laugh.

Dean stood by, his arm still around Y/n, feeling a deep sense of contentment as his worlds finally came together. He knew they still had a lot to talk about but he also knew that they were meant to be. It’s destiny. Now that he’s got her, he’s never letting her go matter what life throws at him. He’s finally home.

Tags:

@spnfamily-j2 @galway-girlatwork @deangirl96 @queensilber

@s0urw00lf @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @deans-baby-momma @fullbelieverheart

@riah1606 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @hobby27

@starkleila @suckitands33 @m3ntally-unstable @kanekilovelove-blog @candy-coated-misery0731

@blackcherrywhiskey @ladysparkles78 @goest-and-fuckest-thyself-blog @graywrites5567

@thelittlelightinthedarkness @enamoredwithbella @winchesterwild78 @myuhh8

[redflagshipwriter]

Nest Swap 4 progress

Now with 200% more bat!

masterpost

“Alright, have a good day.” Tim handed the clipboard back to a stone-faced delivery guy and took the package from Miss Fox back to his technology lair. He got a glass of water on the way down and then went about reproducing the experiment that Tam asked for.

She wouldn't give him details. But from the instructions and reported results, Tim was pretty sure that some employee had misrepresented their process. To what end, he didn't know. He was just the science guy, not a detective guy.

Although if he had to guess he'd say that they had switched out a needed chemical to hide that the supply was lower than recorded.

But whatever. That wasn't his business.

Tim happily went about science, recreating a corrosive liquid that would supposedly eat through reinforced metal. He had to make the Wayne tech protective coating for the metal as well to do the experiment properly. When he finished that he carefully dipped metal sheets in it and set them to drip dry. Then he turned back to the acid project.

Supposedly, the acid had been a failure. Tim thought it should work. Apparently Tam did, too.

The screens around the room all went black. He wasn't even using them but it was a hard thing to miss in your peripheral vision.

Tim groaned. “What now?” He asked the room. He clanged a piece of metal to the tabletop. “I am trying to finish this.”

Had he tripped some kind of security protection? Maybe they had all gone to sleep without getting a password at spaced intervals?

To be perfectly clear, Tim did not expect any kind of response.

Therefore he was startled halfway out of his skin when a female laugh came barrelling out of the speakers of the largest mounted screen.

He crossed his arms in a sulk.

“Tim?” She asked, after she caught her breath. “You're tiny.”

His face was catastrophically cranky: he could see it reflected back in the black screen. It was a perfect replica of Janet Drake discovering after she had formatted her latest paper in Chicago Style that the publication required the savagery of MLA formatting.

She laughed again. It ended with a hiccup.

‘Whoever this is, she can see me. She must be someone who knows me if I gave her that kind of access.’

“I'm not sure we're friends,” Tim announced, because it was time to face the facts: these people all knew a version of him, and that Tim was bigger. At least like, three inches. “I'm aware that I am small. I am working on it.” He glowered at the computer she seemed to be using.

It would take what, two years top for a major growth spurt? They could just chew bubblegum until then.

“Is that what you're doing now?”

Tim sighed. “No, I'm doing something for Tam,” he admitted. He scrubbed at his face with a hand. “Probably a good time for a break.” He started to tidy up.

“Yeah, so, I guess I can tell Dick that you haven't been kidnapped by lions or whatever it is he's talking about,” the lady said. The line turned to static for a second, then back just as quickly. “You, uh, need some help?”

“Absolutely not.” Tim shook his head in a sharp, decisive Jack Drake movement. “I don't need to be babied.”

“...I can see why you think you're in danger of it.” She snorted again. “Unblock Dick, please, he's got delicate feelings and I think we both have plans for tonight that don't involve him scaling your walls to find a way in.”

“....I'll unblock him,” Tim took the L gracefully. “I appreciate your silence on this matter.”

She snorted again. “Sorry.” She didn't sound very sorry. “It's just- your little businessman voice is so funny. I'm sorry, Tim.”

He looked up at the ceiling for patience.

“Oracle out.”

All the screens returned to normal. Tim let out a big long sigh and went back upstairs, taking his empty water class with him. At least he had a name, right? Oracle. He'd gotten a call from Oracle.

He mentally arranged the facts as he trudged up the stairs.

Fact one: he had replaced a Tim, who was Tim Drake-Wayne. (Upsetting information).

Drake-Wayne had to be fundamentally the same Tim as he was, given that both Tam and Oracle had immediately recognized him.

Fact two: Tim D-W was a vigilante.

Fact three: That was really cool.

Tim reached the top and made a mental note to enroll in some martial arts classes when he got back home. If he had potential to fight crime, of course he was going to do that. He unblocked Dick: oh no, Dick Wayne. He'd blocked Robin. He felt mortified. It was so obvious in retrospect. He put the phone down on the table, stomach twisting in social agony.

The phone immediately lit up with messages.

Well. Robin should be less annoying, if he didn't wanna get blocked.

He clambered onto the counter to search through for anything that would make a good lunch.

“... I'm terrible,” Tim complained. He stuck his head fully into the cupboard as if there might be something good at the back. “This sucks!”

Alright. Something had to be done. Tim decisively climbed down, using an open drawer as a step. He shut it with his heels and then went in search of a wallet. He needed a credit card and to find a delivery service.

He was going to act on faith that big Tim D-W wasn't going to ruin his life, even though he was a loser. Tim was doing a great job keeping Tim D-W’s life afloat. That merited some payment.

He converted that payment into a huge order to a grocery delivery service. He referenced Tam’s package to get the address.

The order was simple: fruits, breakfast meat, lots of bakery bread, and sandwich fillings. He was going to have tuna salad with cucumber and lettuce. He was going to learn to make egg salad. Optimistically, he even added melty cheese to the order and a can of tomato soup mix: grilled cheese couldn't be that hard, right?

He rounded off the order with lots of individually packaged drinks: milk and juice boxes, cans of grape Zesti, and hot cocoa powder.

"…This is so exciting,” Tim said to his empty apartment. His. In a very real and meaningful way, it was his apartment. He was totally unsupervised. Neat!

The phone buzzed again. When he picked it up it said “Jason.”

Tim blue screened. Tim dropped the credit card with a clatter. It disappeared under the table and he didn't even think to look for it.

Jason. Omigod, Jason. Jason was a person who existed. He'd forgotten.

All the pieces came together in a beautiful flash of light. He wasn't in a troubled huge age-difference relationship with Bruce (21 year difference) or Dick (9 year difference) . He'd gotten married to Jason Wayne, the kid that Bruce had brought home like a day ago according to the Gotham Gazette. (3 year difference: normal.)

The phone was still ringing. Tim picked it up with numb fingers. “Hello?”

“Hey, Timbers,” said a male voice. It was low, rough, and impatient. “You freaked Dickiebird out and he's been squawking at me all day. Tell me how many pieces you're in.”

Tim looked down at his body. “Just the one,” he said, voice coming out breathy. It felt like his being was floating outside his body. Wow. This was his boy- no, husband? Holy moly. He couldn't cope with that, he had to stick with boyfriend. He bit his lip. He had to make a good impression.

“...You sound about 10 years old there,” Jason said. He didn't hide his amusement. “You been huffing helium, babybird?”

Tim went bright red at the pet name. Painfully red. His face was on fire.

Jason took his silence as a response. “Alright, alright, keep your clothes on. You must be sick as fuck, poor thing. No wonder you didn't come out to play last night.”

Tim slapped his hands on his face and tried not to hyperventilate.

“I wasn't calling for Dick, don't get it twisted.” Jason cleared his throat, tone a little odd. “I picked up on something - I think one of my ongoing cases dips into your patrol area. You gonna come out on patrol tonight?”

“...No,” Tim said. There was no way that would go well. He didn't know martial arts yet.

Jason cursed, but he didn't sound mad about it. “Fair enough,” he muttered. “Uh, think you could do some surveillance for me?”

Tim nodded. Then he felt dumb and cleared his throat. “Yeah.”

…He felt even dumber. What should he say? This was his boyfriend. The stakes were so high. He had never wanted anyone to like him more.

Jason rattled off an address. It, like everything Jason had said, was going to live inside Tim’s head forever in perfect clarity. “Thanks,” he added after, a bit begrudgingly. “This guy's real fucking sick, been making human sausage.”

Tim… wasn't sure exactly what that meant, but it sounded really bad. “I'll do my best,” he promised.

“Yeah…” Jason trailed off. “Maybe you should take a nap, some meds. That's a terrible hoarse throat. Don't kick your own ass on my account, okay?”

“Okay,” Tim helplessly echoed, and hung up. He sat in silence for a solid minute afterwards.

[owlcomics101]

“Dog trouble.” task force 141 x fox hybrid!Reader

Warnings: bit of blood, animal violence, mentions of animal abuse/hunting (I do NOT condone), SFW (I am a minor), wholesome fox cuddles, reader is an Arctic fox hybrid

Please read the head cannons first

You are an arctic fox hybrid. You have the fluffy fox ears, tail, feet paws, and fangs. Gaz was taking you on your morning walk when the two of you walked by some military dogs who gave you the stink eye. Usually military dogs would never attack unless instructed by their handler otherwise, but these weren’t the properly trained and experienced military dogs. They were new and haven’t even seen the field of battle yet. Of course when they saw you strutting in front of Gaz with your tail up and proud as Gaz couldn’t help but snicker. The dog’s instincts kicked in. “Bullet no!-“ The handler whistles for one of the dogs to sit still but bullet wouldn’t listen. The dog had its eyes and soon its fangs on you. Bullet immediately sprinted towards you. The handler tried grabbing a hold of the dog, but Bullet was too fast for his handler to grab a hold of his harness. Instinctively Gaz grabbed and picked you up immediately and out of reach of the blood thirsty canine. “Get your god Damm dog here!” Gaz shouted. Bullet jumped on Gaz, trying to bite your tail but instead bit Gaz’s wrist, causing him to drop you. You fall to the ground with a thud as bullet jumps off of Gaz and chases after you.

“Shit-Y/N!” Gaz scrambles to his feet. Your ears perk up at the dog’s footsteps and you snarled. Your tail and ears puffing up to try and make yourself look big and intimidating to the mutt but Bullet could smell your fear. You never thought in a million years you would ever have to worry about a snot-nose dog in your face trying to hunt you down like back in the tundra. Your mind could not forget all the pain and trauma those dogs brought you. You have the bite marks and scratches to remember each hit well. These dogs could never compare to the real predators you would face like wolves. At least wolves were only hunting you for food and survival, these domesticated mutts were only hunting you for their master’s approval. Bullet lunged at you as you quickly slipped away, running down the block with the mutt right at your tail. Soap was just leaving the mess hall when he saw you outside being chased.

“God pumpin' dammit! Y/N!” Soap bolted out from the mess hall and after you and bullet. He wasn’t going to let the mutt lay a single fang on you, not if he had anything to say about it. Gaz was running after you as well. Clutching his bleeding arm from Bullet’s bite to stop the bleeding. Soap looked over to Gaz and quickly stopped him.

“Go get some help Gaz! I'll handle this!" Gaz was hesitant on leaving you. It was his fault, at least he think it’s his fault. He should’ve known the dogs would be out at this time. He should’ve taken you out earlier or maybe skipped the walk all together.

“No Soap-“ Gaz tried to protest but Soap was already gone along with you and Bullet around the corner. You kept running and slipping under passing soldiers left to right as bullet chased you. Soap swearing and shoving everyone out of his way to reach to you. Soap shoved past Ghost who was walking by. Ghost’s brows furrowed as he was shoved.

“Johny what the bloody hell!?” Ghost snapped as he grabbed Soap’s wrist tightly, the day has just begun and Soap was already on his nerves. Soap quickly tried to jerk away from Ghost in a panic.

“Let go! It’s Y/N-Their-“ Soap was cut off by a shriek and it wasn’t Bullet. Soap’s skin went pale when he heard it again. Ghost’s eyes widen as his breath hitched in his throat. You were shrieking and snapping as Bullet bit onto your leg and shook you around like some kind of messed up chew toy. You tried thrashing and biting your way out of the dog’s grasp but bullet wasn’t budging—its jaws clamped shut around your ankle like a bear trap. You could feel the fangs digging into your flesh and tissue, blood seeping and dripping out like a stream as it filled the dog’s mouth. All the blood and struggling around just made the dog tighten its grip and bit into you more. You felt like you were trapped in the snare again, dangling and running around in circles as the noose grew tight. Soap saved you then but where was he now? Just then the dog let out a yelp and let go of you as it was shoved to the ground by Ghost. Soap immediately scooped you up in his arms.

“I’m here, I’m here! I got you.” Soap reassured you as he held you close to his chest. Stroking your back and giving you kissing on the forehead. You couldn’t help but watch Ghost deal with the dog. Ghost grabbed bullet by the harness and held him back for the handler to go get their Damm dog back. Ghost saved you..

“What’s going on out here!?” Price snaps, Gaz following behind him with his wrist bandaged up and stained with blood. Price looked down at the dog and over to you, trembling in soap’s arms as blood trickles down your ankle and foot. To say Price was pissed, would be an understatement. He was livid! He walked over to you and inspected your leg. Soap still stroking your back and head to calm you down.

“Take them to the infirmary and get them looked after. After that I want them safe back in MY office!” Price ordered Soap as he quickly nodded and took you away. You look over Soap’s shoulder to see Price shouting at the handler along with Gaz, but Ghost…Ghost looked over to you. Watching Soap take you away to get cleaned and bandaged up. Maybe Ghost wasn’t so bad after all?

writer’s note: Maybe part 2? We’ll see how this does ^^

[sideprince]

Snape's Doe Patronus

'Well, when it works correctly, it conjures up a Patronus, which is a kind of anti-Dementor — a guardian which acts as a shield between you and the Dementor. The Patronus is a kind of positive force, a projection of the very things that the Dementor feeds upon — hope, happiness, the desire to survive — but it cannot feel despair, as real humans can, so the Dementors can't hurt it.'

Lupin explaining what a Patronus is to Harry, Prisoner of Azkaban, Ch. 12

The essence of a Patronus, as we see Lupin explain, is hope, happiness, and the desire to survive, though this last point may be specific to the use of Patronuses as a defense against Dementors. It's unclear whether a Patronus has any other use, or was specifically invented to protect against Dementors, and if Dumbledore and the Order's use of them to communicate was specific to them or part of a more general practice and purpose. While I don't necessarily think that extra-textual references have a reasonable place in meta discussions, the Harry Potter Wiki also has the following quote from the Wonderbook: Book of Spells video game that JK Rowling contributed to and is attributed to the fictional character of Miranda Goshawk, which offers a bit more insight:

"This ancient and mysterious charm conjures a magical guardian, a projection of all your most positive feelings. The Patronus Charm is difficult, and many witches and wizards are unable to produce a full, corporeal Patronus, a guardian which generally takes the shape of the animal with whom they share the deepest affinity. You may suspect, but you will never truly know what form your Patronus will take until you succeed in conjuring it."

The key points here are that a Patronus is a projection of a person's most positive feelings, and takes the shape of an animal with whom they share the deepest affinity.

Based on this information, it makes sense that Tonks' Patronus changed form when her unrequited love for Lupin became all consuming. We see how much it affected her because in all of HBP she's consistently described as sad, downcast, and unlike her usual cheery self. The change in her Patronus is specific to her personal emotional state and isn't necessarily a statement on whether Patronuses change form any time a person is in love. Therefore we can conclude that a person's Patronus changes based on their emotional or mental state, not based on whether or not they're in love. Whether a person is even able to conjur a Patronus is also dependent on these factors. This is supported by the way we see characters who had previously been able to produce corporeal Patronuses struggle to do so when under stress:

The air around them had frozen: Harry’s breath caught and solidified in his chest. Shapes moved out in the darkness, swirling figures of concentrated blackness, moving in a great wave towards the castle, their faces hooded and their breath rattling … Ron and Hermione closed in beside him as the sounds of fighting behind them grew suddenly muted, deadened, because a silence only Dementors could bring was falling thickly through the night … ‘Come on, Harry!’ said Hermione’s voice, from a very long way away, ‘Patronuses, Harry, come on!’ He raised his wand, but a dull hopelessness was spreading through him: Fred was gone, and Hagrid was surely dying or already dead; how many more lay dead that he did not yet know about; he felt as though his soul had already half left his body … ‘HARRY, COME ON!’ screamed Hermione. A hundred Dementors were advancing, gliding towards them, sucking their way closer to Harry’s despair, which was like a promise of a feast … He saw Ron’s silver terrier burst into the air, flicker feebly and expire; he saw Hermione’s otter twist in mid-air and fade, and his own wand trembled in his hand, and he almost welcomed the oncoming oblivion, the promise of nothing, of no feeling … And then a silver hare, a boar and a fox soared past Harry, Ron and Hermione’s heads: the Dementors fell back before the creatures’ approach. Three more people had arrived out of the darkness to stand beside them, their wands outstretched, continuing to cast their Patronuses: Luna, Ernie and Seamus. ‘That’s right,’ said Luna encouragingly, as if they were back in the Room of Requirement and this was simply spell practice for the DA. ‘That’s right, Harry … come on, think of something happy …’ ‘Something happy?’ he said, his voice cracked. ‘We’re all still here,’ she whispered, ‘we’re still fighting. Come on, now …’ There was a silver spark, then a wavering light, and then, with the greatest effort it had ever cost him, the stag burst from the end of Harry’s wand. It cantered forwards, and now the Dementors scattered in earnest, and immediately the night was mild again, but the sounds of the surrounding battle were loud in his ears. ‘Can’t thank you enough,’ said Ron shakily, turning to Luna, Ernie and Seamus, ‘you just saved -”

Deathly Hallows Ch. 32

We know Harry, Ron, and Hermione can conjur a Patronus, but it's their hopelessness and the trauma they've experienced in the battle so far after a year of isolation searching for Horcruxes that affect their ability to do so, or whether or not a Patronus is corporeal. There is a connection between how able a person is to conjur a Patronus based on their emotional state, and what shape their Patronus takes based on the same.

How does this, then, inform what we know about Snape's Patronus? We know it symbolizes Lily, because he conjurs it in a moment when he's trying to prove a point to Dumbledore:

‘But this is touching, Severus,’ said Dumbledore seriously. ‘Have you grown to care for the boy, after all?’ ‘For him?’ shouted Snape. ‘Expecto patronum!’ From the tip of his wand burst the silver doe: she landed on the office floor, bounded once across the office and soared out of the window. Dumbledore watched her fly away, and as her silvery glow faded he turned back to Snape, and his eyes were full of tears. ‘After all this time?’ ‘Always,’ said Snape.’

Deathly Hallows Ch. 33

We don't actually know if Lily could conjur a patronus, let alone if the shape it took was a doe. We don't know if James could either or what shape it would have taken, we only know that James' animagus form was a stag, and that we are meant to conclude as a result that his wife is therefore symbolized by a doe, and that Snape's Patronus reflects his love for her as a result.

At its core, based on the above definitions of what a Patronus is, we can conclude that Snape's source of hope and happiness was Lily. All we know for a fact, based on canon text, is that they were best friends until their fifth year at school. There are varying opinions on whether Snape also felt romantic love for Lily, but we know he definitely felt love for her as a close friend, and his Patronus alludes to him continuing to feel this way after she ended their friendship and they stopped talking, not to mention how much this was compounded by his guilt for his role in her death.

I would take this further, though, and argue that Snape's Patronus was a reflection of him, ie. that it wasn't a projection of his affection for Lily but rather of the hope and happiness that he felt in their friendship and that, if we're taking the Miranda Goshawk quote at face value, his Patronus reflected his "most positive feelings" and "the animal with whom [he] share[s] the deepest affinity."

This definition implies that Snape's doe Patronus reflects that he and Lily were kindred spirits. That's why they were best friends, and why the doe is both reflective of Snape and symbolic of Lily. This isn't surprising when you consider that they were the only magical children of their age in a small midlands factory town. They grew up in different classes, but the same culture, with the same isolating factor of being able to do magic while surrounded by muggles. Childhood friendships create a strong bond, and how much more so with such factors at play? As a result, I think Snape's doe Patronus doesn't just symbolize his attachment to Lily, but that he was like her in many ways. We see this in the glimpses we get of Lily - that she was a brilliant student as described by Slughorn, that she had a righteous temper as demonstrate in Snape's Worst Memory, and that she was not afraid of what others thought of her whether it was the best friend she was challenging unflinchingly or the popular jock bully who she told off when no one else was willing to. Though we only Snape and Lily's interactions at school as ones where they're at odds, their personalities share many similarities and it quickly becomes apparent why they became such fast, and close, friends.

We don't know if James had a Patronus, but we do know that he's represented by a stag since it was his animagus form. We're shown clearly by the text that Harry's stag patronus is a reflection of his father's spirit living on in him. While the author's intention, I think, was that as a stag and doe James and Lily were a pair, she may not have understood how these animals mate. I'm not concerned with her intentions, though, and the fact that stags and does don't spend their lives together actually offers a more interesting reading of the conclusions the reader is meant to draw from the symbolism of the doe Patronus.

After mating stags leave does to raise the offspring on their own. While this interpretation has been used by some people to circumscribe James as a negligent parent and partner, I'm not convinced of this. James demonstrated selfishness and immaturity in his tendency to sneak out under his invisibility cloak even while he and Lily were in hiding, but ultimately we learn almost as little about James as we do about Lily so it's difficult to define his whole character based on limited information. It's worth noting that he did also put himself between Voldemort and his wife and child, knowing he would be killed, and though he did so while foolishly having left his wand in the other room, this kind of self-sacrifice is antithetical to the reading of the stag/doe symbolism that highlights stags' tendency to abandon does after mating.

There is, nevertheless, an interesting metaphor for the way the two animals come together for a higher purpose - that of survival of the species and continuation of life. In this way Harry and Snape reflect James and Lily respectively. The two of them had more potential for friendship than either was willing to see, and though they were enemies (or at least they had a lot of animosity towards each other - I would argue Harry saw Snape as an enemy but not vice versa) they nevertheless they came together - at times aware of it, at times not - for the greater purpose of defeating Voldemort, ie. the survival and continuation of life in the wizarding world.

And this, the knowledge we gain by the end of the books, that Snape's main purpose in life as he saw it was to protect a child and help raise him safely while working to defeat an existential threat, is what best explains why his Patronus is a doe. In fact, he goes out of his way and risks his life for much more than Harry, fighting for the safety of all the students in his care, and anyone else he is able to save. As the text shows us, just before he reveals his Patronus to be the doe, he has the following infamous exchange with Dumbledore:

‘How many men and women have you watched die?’ ‘Lately, only those whom I could not save,’ said Snape.

Deathly Hallows Ch. 33

If we interpret the doe as symbolic of Lily, a self-sacrificing parent who put the life of her child before her own, how much more so does Snape embody that symbolism, having given his life after risking it repeatedly for the sake of countless people, including the very same child Lily gave hers for? Had Lily's Patronus also been a doe, it would have reflected who she was at her core, and those aspects of her character which gave her strength and hope - and which reflected all she had in common with Snape. Therefore I would argue that Snape's Patronus symbolizing only his unrequited love is a reductive reading, and that it was, in fact, reflective of him as an individual as well, and of the qualities he possessed that were the reason for his bond with Lily.

[justporo]

A Love Letter

"Quite contrary to what you might believe, I have never written a love letter. Quick notes with sweet innocents on them or naughty promises, surely, loads of those. But not like this, never."

When Astarion hears that you never in your life have a received a love letter he takes it upon himself to change that.

MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: It's been a while hasn't it? I hope to get back into the saddle with writing after I took a bit of a break. And what better thing to come back with than a very cheesy, self-indulgent thing? I hope you enjoy, let me know what you think!

Pairing: Astarion/named Tav (Fox/You) Warnings: light mention of past trauma Wordcount: 2,7k

You had never really been very much into these romantic things. You didn’t have the time for that pretty nonsense. Or maybe it was that you just never had gotten to experience it. And so you made yourself believe that.

So when you mentioned to Astarion that you never once in your life had received a love letter and was imagining how it might be, the vampire felt he had to do something about it. He wasn’t very much into these things either; things that felt just performative.

But after all, he knew with you this wasn’t the case - at all.

So one night, a while after you had mentioned this, and Astarion was out to run errands you found an envelope on the table in your kitchen - and next to it a singular deep red tulip.

On the envelope you saw your name in Astarion’s elegant handwriting written in gold ink - with a few wholly unnecessary but beautiful extra swirls around it.

With a fiendish smile on your lips you opened the letter and were surprised by several pages falling out of it. All of course written in Astarion’s neat hand. You brushed your hair out of your face, feeling that you needed to look presentable for this.

The letter read:

“My darling Fox,

Quite contrary to what you might believe, I have never written a love letter. Quick notes with sweet innocents on them or naughty promises, surely, loads of those. But not like this, never.

This is different, you are different! And you being different means I am now sitting here while you’ve gone to bed already ages ago by dim candle light with several pages of parchment because I know - I know - I will need them to even just scratch the surface. But right now, to be perfectly honest with you, I am a little lost for words as I sit here with a goblet of wine. I’m trying to warm up to this idea of me actually trying to lay bare what I usually don’t share with anyone. Not even with you.

Not because I don’t want to. But because I struggle with letting someone in. But you were so patient with me thus far. I hope you’ll be patient with me for this as well. This is my third attempt to write something that feels right. Something that feels true and not make-believe…

But bear with me as I am working to get the hang of this. Can’t really call myself a consummate lover if I don’t get this one down, can I?

Let’s start over, shall we?

I could tell you about every single little detail I adore about you: like the way your pretty silver eyes light up when you grin at me. Every single freckle you have, which I am sure I know by heart by now - every single one. Or how your smile is so beautiful that it makes even my undead and rotten heart flutter in my chest. How you get these delightful full body blushes when I pull you into my arms, still, no matter how long we’ve been together. How wonderfully sharp your tongue is and how witty you are, my little minx. How you curse worse than a sailor and drink at least as much as one, my little swashbuckling rebel. How you do everything to not be treated by a lady but then swoon when I try it on you anyways.

Or I could tell you how much I adore your kindness. How you worry so deeply about your friends and how loyal you are.

Or how I might roll my eyes every time you stop in the streets to pet one of the stray cats but actually love how you care even for the tiniest and most ragged critters, showering them with your honest affection.

Because isn’t that just like what you’ve done with me?

You looked at me - hells, I held a knife to your delicate neck! - and despite all odds you decided: you liked that one. Despite all the pain, all the suffering, all the trauma, all the patience you needed and all the good will. I couldn’t get rid of you - thankfully.

You kept me, you cared for me. And when I was unable to let you in, you let me in first, taking a leap of faith.

I could see it in your eyes first.

Your beautiful silver eyes and how they always betray just what you think and feel. Maybe not to everyone, but to me. Trust me, I’ve spent quite some time looking at them.

And at some point I looked at you. Your eyes were just so open and I just knew.

You saved me, Fox.

I know I told you before. But I need you to understand that I wouldn’t be here with you if I was without you. You stayed with me through all of this, you helped me every step of the way without really expecting anything in return.

And now I am more than just “still here”, more than just a hollow husk, void of life: I am free - and with you I am even whole.

You radiate so much joy and love and life. You care. Despite your own beatings and betrayals in life, you've never given up on believing that better days are ahead. Not even for a moment.

My stubborn little thing, who couldn't love you when you come barging into people's lives like this. You have your way of just grabbing people by the hand and pulling them with you, saying yes to the good things that happen and fuck off to the bad ones.

And you were right. Better days were, for once, just around the corner.

I feel violently alive when I'm with you.

And it's scary and even hurts sometimes. But it is so incredibly beautiful, joyous and breathtaking that I won't have it any other way.

It's like you pulled me right from that grave into your loving arms. And to my own surprise your embrace and how my name sounds on your lips weighs so much heavier than what has come before.

You haven’t given up on me. For some reason beyond my own comprehension you see something in me. Maybe some day you’ll help me understand too.”

You took a moment to let the words settle with you, your fingertips running over the neat cursive letters. It wasn’t lost on you that there were some specks on the bottom of the page. Like drops had fallen on it. Some had blurred the ink of the final words at the bottom where the handwriting, you realised, had gotten just a tiny bit shaky.

Tears were burning dangerously in your eyes, a knot forming in your throat as your eyes wandered back over the words, not daring yet to move on. And when a teardrop fell from your cheeks onto the paper, mixing in with the others already there you couldn’t help the small laugh escaping you. Knowing exactly the way the writer must have felt bringing these words down onto the parchment.

Then you read on.

“Enough of this sentimental nonsense now, let us move on to more important matters.”

You laughed out loud reading this as the first sentence on the next page. The handwriting as elegant as ever again. And you could quite clearly imagine how the vampire must’ve brushed away his “nonsensical” tears with a pout to regain his composure before he began writing again.

You kept on reading.

“You must’ve realised by now that I am quite a selfish man. I have absolutely no intention of letting you go, my love.

When I told you that you were the first person who I truly cared for, I meant it.

For as long as you will have me by your side and for as long as my immortal life, you will not get rid of me. I hope you thought this rightfully through when you said you wanted to be with me.

For as long as you want me to, I will do everything in my power to keep you as happy and healthy as you are now.

Your light shines so bright, my darling Fox, I don’t ever want to see it dimmed. I always want to see you smile as brightly, laugh as loudly and be as carefree as you are right now.

I want to keep holding you in my arms as you drift off to your dreams with your breaths getting softer and deeper before their soft rhythm lulls me to rest also. And then feel you wake up again in my embrace.

Do you know how incredibly beautiful you are in these moments?

I am not a poet, nor will I ever be one, gods forbid, so I can barely do it justice. But I will try nonetheless.

You are so beautiful and delicate in my arms, completely bare before me, not an inch between us with your limbs all wrapped around me, your hair all messed up. I can feel your comforting warmth. And then this first big breath of you waking up. You always bury your face in my chest as if you’re trying to resist the world of the awake claiming you again. And your arms wrap around me a little tighter while you groan about your fate of having to be awake again. And then you lift your head and blink slowly at me with these beautiful eyes of yours, still sleepy, and red hair all over your face. And your smile grows. You tell me good morning and that you love me with your voice still raspy from sleep and kiss me with your smile growing even broader.

You are everything for me in those moments. Because it feels like every single day you choose to love me again. Aren’t I quite lucky?

 And it’s a gift, every day anew.

And I love you too, Fox, oh how I love you. In those moments and all the others.

I will do everything so I can hold onto these moments with you and create a million more.

Because even though I might have lost the sun, I gained a new source of light. Your warmth makes me want to live again. For you - and for me.”

And then the final lines of the letter were written with a bit more space - and visibly more vigour. The letters tall and proud:

“I love you, Fox, from this moment to the next and for all that are to come.

I love you and I will keep loving you for as long as I live.

I love you.

Forever yours, Astarion”

There weren’t just single tears running over your cheeks and then rolling off your face by the time you finished reading. One hand was clenching the parchment sheets while you simultaneously tried not to ruin them. Your other hand was covering your mouth as you couldn’t stop yourself from sobbing.

You had sat down on the bench sometime while reading without even realising it. Now you were thankful for the support while emotions washed over and through you: overflowing love, bittersweet joy and aching yearning - among others.

Surely, when you had told Astarion that you had never received a love letter you didn’t think he would come up with something like this.

Maybe some cheesy little thing where he got to repurpose all of his favourite stupid lines, but not something like this. Not something so heartfelt and true. Not something that, despite his claims, was showing just how much he was letting you in.

You read the whole letter again.

And then a third time. And a fourth.

All the while your tears didn’t stop. They got worse even, to the point where you had to put the sheets down and cover your eyes while sobs shook your body.

Your chest felt like it was slowly coming apart as you felt it swell to the brim with love for your vampire.

That was the moment Astarion found you: still sitting at the wooden table in the kitchen, crying and sobbing and still clutching the letter in your hands, unwilling to let go. He halted a moment in the doorway.

“Was it that terrible, darling?” Astarion teased as he then entered the room. You hadn’t even noticed him before, too preoccupied with how the words of his confession swam before your eyes.

“I think I did quite a good job,” the vampire continued as he slowly sauntered over to you, hands crossed behind his back. With a huge sniffle you lifted your gaze to meet the writer’s eyes.

“I mean considering that I’ve never done this before,” Astarion finished as he took one last step up to you and immediately sank into a crouch beside you. Long, pale fingers reached out to tug one of several stray strands of hair back behind one of your pointy ears.

Your eyes were on Astarion and through your still welling tears you saw the cautious smile dance around his lips. His tone had been joking, his fingers softly brushing tears out of the corner of your eye lovingly. But his hesitation wasn’t lost on you.

So you took the only measure you deemed adequate to assure him that he had done a marvellous job. And since you could barely put into words how deeply his honest, loving words had moved you, you resorted to show rather than tell.

You threw yourself into Astarion’s arms, making him almost topple over in his crouched position. But the vampire kept his balance as you wrapped your arms around him as tightly as you ever had.

Neither of you cared when more tears spilled onto him and you while more sobs shook through you. “I love you,” you pressed out in between sobs and sniffles. “I love you, Astarion,” you repeated.

And again and again until the words made no sense anymore.

Astarion just held you, burying his face in your hair. And you could have sworn you must’ve felt a tear or two wet your already messed up hair that hadn’t been yours.

The two of you stayed in this tangled and messy embrace, both on your knees, for a long while. Your vampire softly swayed you while your sobs slowly subsided and the tears only remained as softly prickling traces on your face.

That kind of blissful exhaustion that only overcomes you after a long and hearty cry threatened to take you over when you had lost all sense of time in your lover’s arms. So you ripped your face from where it had been buried at Astarion’s neck before you became too tired.

With one hand you rubbed sloppily over your eyes and then your nose. And even without looking you knew Astarion’s nose would scrunch up in disgust. The thought almost immediately made you laugh. But when you looked at him again, finally free of blurring tears, you were merely met with a smirk and a soft mocking glint in his eyes, sparking at you from beneath Astarion’s brows.

“I can’t believe out of all moments you could have picked, you chose to call me beautiful with bedhair, you idiot” you blurted out and swatted the vampire’s arms before you immediately broke out with hysterical laughter.

The vampire immediately hissed at you in response. Then he cleared his throat and put on an air of seriousness when you looked up at him again: “But you are, my love. Even with your face covered in tears and snot you are still quite, eh…” He gesticulated dramatically towards you and his nose scrunched up again as he teased you. It only earned him another hit from you. He hissed at you again, letting go of you to rub the spot you had just hit.

“You punch quite hard, you know that?” he barked at you, his tone slightly offended. And you only laughed more.

“Maybe you should have added that to the letter,” you teased back and stuck out your tongue at him.

“You insolent, ungrateful wretch,” Astarion hurled at you while his smirk returned.

“You pretentious, stupid prick,” you gave back.

Then you leaned in, cupped Astarion’s face and kissed him. He met you with a content hum.

“I love you, Astarion,” you whispered as you broke away and pressed your forehead to his.

His eyes glittered and his smile was so broad it made the vampire’s face ache: “Love you too, my sweet little Fox.”

~~~

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[perfctvelvet]

Megan Fox fics plssssssss

Last Call; Megan Fox/Fem!Reader

Content: 2nd POV. Strangers, slight infidelity (reader is dating someone but not exclusive), semi-public sex, D/s elements, praise and teasing, oral sex (Megan receiving), boot riding

Being one of the few bars in the town with a 4am liquor license made Aire one of the more popular bars around. It was somewhat upscale, but not completely a high-end bar. Megan has been working behind the bar for almost a year now, but this isn't her first bartender rodeo. When it came to last call she always had to call one of the security guards to come get the hanger-ons who thought they still had a chance to pick someone up for the night.

Tonight was no different. Last call was announced and some people began to slink out while others stayed. It was now Saturday morning, and the usual crew of hanger-ons were still sitting at the bar, trying to get in one more drink before they were forced out. One person stood out like a sore thumb though: you.

Megan has never noticed you before and she considers herself quite talented with remembering names, faces, and stories. It's not like it never has happened before, but it was rare to see a woman sitting at the bar alone for hours until the final call. She's been watching you all night, but not in a creepy way. She is often curious and she is curious about you. You didn't look particularly sad, but it was rare that anyone who sits at the bar alone for hours until close wasn't ruminating over something.

"Hey," she called out to you, instantly grabbing your attention. "Did you hear it was last call? Do you need anything?"

"Oh, no thank you. I'm okay."

You thought the conversation was going to end right there and then, but she walked your way and stopped right in front of you. She rests her hands on the bar and looks at you until you look back at her. You felt a little displaced. The bar is not your usual choice for a night alone so you weren't used to this. Was she trying to get you to leave? You were about 1 of 15 people still inside. The only sound in the room was low chattering and the sound of glasses being cleaned and polished.

"Do you always sit at bars by yourself?"

"Never, but the day I'm having -- well had -- seems fitting."

Some would call Megan nosy, she called it great customer service. Hundreds of faces came in and out of here every single week and someone always had some sort of story. Happy ones, sad ones, bizarre ones; Megan has heard them all. She always found people's actions and the whys behind them to be so fascinating. If she had gone to college she probably would've studied psychology, but she found standing behind the bar and hearing people talk to be more fulfilling.

"What kind of day was it?"

"It's not that interesting."

"I'm not really concerned with how much it's going to wow me. I hear enough crazy stories in one day, that I don't mind the stories that people may think will dull me. So, what kind of day was it?"

You looked around to see where everyone was. The other bartender was at the far end and the closest person to the two of you was six seats away. It was unlikely that anyone was going to hear or care about what you had to say about your day.

"I'm starting to see this girl and she was talking about what she wants in bed, and it feels like she was describing someone who was the complete opposite of me."

"What do you mean?"

The sex stories patrons told weren't scant, but it was rare for someone to admit that they may or may not be lacking in the bedroom. You seemed so sweet, and a little shy, to Megan so your honesty was brave to her. However, she wasn't prepared for what you had to say next.

"She wants me to be submissive in the bedroom and...and I've never been that!"

Megan always does her best to keep an open mind yet here you are insinuating that you like to be the dominant one in bed and she's shocked. Maybe under that sweet demeanor was someone mean who could fuck their lover hard and right.

"Well, when she says submissive, does she mean hardcore stuff like restraints and whips?"

"No? At least I don't think so? We haven't explored all of that yet, we haven't even fucked yet! I used to consider myself to be more flexible and at the whims of my girlfriends, but I think I'm a little jaded by my ex-girlfriend, y'know? She was a little bit of a pillow princess, which I didn't mind, but it's been a long time since I've been vulnerable to let someone have control of me like that."

"Well is that what you want?"

"I don't know? I'm not opposed to it. I guess it just feels like another mental shift. This must be what it feels like for former ballerinas to try to dance again after decades of not doing so."

"Yet, even ballerinas still retain something. It's muscle memory. If it feels natural to you, then do it. You know..."

"Y/n."

"Y/n, you don't have to do things you're uncomfortable with, right?"

"I know, I know. It's just that I really like this girl and our dates have been amazing so far. Personality-wise we click so much, but for some reason I just struggle to break this mold. Maybe I've adapted a little bit of that dominance into my personality and it feels a part of me."

"So let me ask you this, if you were to start dating another partner and she wanted to keep things vanilla, how would you feel? No one in the situation is particularly dominant or submissive, it's just a passionate, go-with-the-flow, sort of situation."

"I don't know. I guess I wouldn't mind it either. Like I said earlier, I care a lot about my partner's pleasure and whatever they want, I will go along with it."

"Okay, but what do you want? I've met people who are dominant and liked be fucked rough and people who seem more docile be dominant -- like you. So, deep down, what do you feel? Do you want to fuck, be fucked, or just make love to someone?"

You sigh, thinking really hard about what your heart's current desires are. Maybe it was the alcohol or the rough work week you had, but you wanted someone to hold you sweetly while fucking your brains out. You wanted that so bad, not all the time, but right now you did. You just didn't know how to vocalize it. You didn't have to though because Megan read you like a book. A smirk spreads on her lips and she picks up your glass before dumping out the rest of your drink you weren't going to finish.

"We are always changing, Y/n. There's nothing wrong with that, and equally there is nothing wrong with saying what you want."

"Fine. I would love for that girl to top me." Admitting that was like a weight being lifted off of your shoulders. The break-up with your ex was rough and you probably held onto some things for that. It wouldn't be fair to bring that into a new relationship. You wanted to let go and do what you felt was right. The only thing is you were unsure if you could do that. This new girl is not a rebound and you weren't going to treat her like one. "I would love that, but I just don't know how to let go."

Megan cocks her head to the side. There was something about you that was so cute that she understands why this new person you're seeing wants to fuck the shit out of you. You were so tightly wound and seemed like the woman to always be in her head, overthinking every little action. In her personal life she seemed to be attracted to your type no matter how many times she had to remind herself that relationships are not a conquest. Yet, she felt moved to help you a little.

"You don't have to do it alone. There's plenty of people who would love to help you out."

The coquettish slant in her voice and the way she leans into the bar is enough to get her point across. Your heart starts to beat irregularly, and instantly you see the image of your new possible girlfriend in your head. You two weren't exclusive at all, in fact she talked about another date she might be going on with someone who isn't you. You can't be upset with her because on the very first date you two laid out the rules and discussed what it would mean if you two were exclusive. She told you you were free to see other people while you two still get to know each other, but just be safe and honest about it. Neither of you had the 'what are we' conversation yet. This was something like a movie; hot bartender offers to sleep with a patron instead of just kicking her out 30 minutes before close. You rationalized this situation by telling yourself that this will help out your future relationships.

"Do you happen to know one of those people?"

Megan's smile widens. She got you reeled in.

"Meet me around the back door. Bars' gonna close early tonight."

-

You felt a little odd just standing there waiting for Megan. A chill had fallen over the night, which was now morning.

After every body was out, Megan ended her shift. She came out the back to you waiting for her. She half thought you would've left and just gone home. That wouldn't have been surprising at all, but it seems like you were serious about working out the kinks.

"My cars over there."

She points to a black SUV. It's not the biggest, but surely it could fit the two of them in her back seat.

"Okay."

You start walking towards her car, but you're stopped by her grabbing your hand. You stop dead in your tracks and look back at her in confusion. Megan has had this coy look on her face all night, almost as if she knows something that you don't. Looking at her sent electricity down your spine. Her eyes were piercing.

"Not yet," she says firmly. "Get on your knees."

Right here? Right now?

You almost asked that out loud, but you were too stunned to speak. At any moment Megan's co-workers could walk out and see them. She looked so confident and sure of herself though, maybe she has done this before and the people she works with are used to it? Surely anyone fucking on the property would get fired, but Megan didn't seem to worry about anything. You on the other hand worried. You wanted to feel free but it was going to feel free when you had the fear of getting caught stuck on the brain. You look around and there is not a single soul on these streets. Pretty soon the soon will start to rise and signal a new day, but right now you two were shrouded in darkness save for the outside light attached to the building.

You obey. After seconds of standing there, you finally obey and it makes Megan happy.

"Good girl," she purrs.

It's been so long since you've heard those words uttered to you in such a sweet manner. It scratched a deep itch that you had. You tried to picture the girl you're seeing saying those exact same words to you as you stare up at her, but all you can see is Megan.

Megan caresses the top of your head, enjoying the view of you down on your knees. It looks like you belong there in between her knees and looking up at her. The sight almost makes her moan. She had no clue what she was going to do with you when she asked you to meet her out back, but now her pussy is begging for attention.

"I want you to keep being a good girl for me, push my skirt up, and pull my thong down."

You do more than listen, you eagerly run your hands up her thighs to push her skirt up around her waist. The moment you were about to pull her thong down, she stopped you.

"Aht! Go slower. Don't rip the damn thing off of me!" Megan's tone is a little more harsh. In any other setting she would enjoy how eager you are to please, but she wants to take her time.

You feel slightly embarrassed but you push and continue anyway. You hook your fingers in the thin straps of her thong, but you don't pull them down her legs just yet. Instead you lean in and kiss her inner thigh. Megan instantly shivers and lets out a sigh that makes her sound like she's melting. You kiss her thigh again, remembering how much previous girlfriend's have gone crazy over that.

"Just like that."

You're happy to hear the approval in her voice instead of that nagging tone. You wanted to please her. At first you thought that you going down on her was going to give you power over her, but she's telling you what she wants, thus making you relinquish your autonomy in the situation. You find yourself waiting patiently for her next instructions; peppering butterfly kisses all over her inner thighs.

"I want you to suck on my clit like a good girl, okay? I know you can open that mouth and work wonders, I know you can."

It was every single encouraging word that left you hooked and addicted for more. You found solace in how she called you a 'good girl' and wanted to hear it over and over again. You need that, so you obey. Her thong comes down and your face is pressed against her dripping sex.

"Oh fuck!"

Megan is shocked at the sound that comes out her mouth. All you did was lick her clit once, but god you were so good at it. After a long shift that gave her an ache in her back from standing, you between her legs made her melt. She grabs a handful of your hair rather roughly. It's not like you were going to go anywhere, but she held onto you tightly.

"You sure you struggle with being a submissive little bitch?" She whispers between moans. She didn't mean to sound so harsh, she was just too turned on. And her words were turning you on. You found yourself wanting to perform for her, to be her good girl. "Don't stop," she moans again, breathlessly.

The juices coming from her pussy slide down your chin and you can feel it drop onto your bare knees. You never intended for this night to end in such a sloppy way, but with the way her juices mix with your saliva there was no other choice. You were slowly getting hooked on this stranger's taste; the way her legs quivered and her hips bucked at every lick. Her body was reacting in the way that your ex's always would when you went down on her, but everything felt different with Megan. You felt the flame deep in your belly and it made you desperate. So desperate that you pressed your clothed clit against her boot and started grinding against it. It wasn't the best feeling in the world but every little time you felt the friction against your clit you moaned into her pussy. Megan was shocked at how quickly you turned into a mess; then it dawned on her, this is who you were deep inside. It was like spilling your guts to a complete and utter stranger. It was so easy for you to give in and submit to her.

"Good fucking girl," she groans, clearly enjoying this all too much. "I should tell you how pathetic you look getting off on my shoe, but you just look so cute being this fucking thirsty for me...fuck me with your tongue!"

In seconds you slide your tongue past her slit and into her. Your hands are gripping her thighs but she grabs one of them and places it right on her clit. Instantly you start rubbing her clit.

"See you know what to do."

You can just hear the smile. There was still a little bite left in you and you enjoyed hearing her words turn to lewd moans as you rub her clit and tongue fuck her. The sounds coming from your mouth fill the back alley. It was downright filthy.

"Be a good girl and make me cum!"

She was close and you could feel her clit pulsing underneath your touch. She didn't give you permission, but you put your mouth back on her clit because you wanted to driveher higher. Your fingers don't just fall aside, you slide one into her and feel her warm walls wrap around it. If it weren't for you keeping her up, she might've been slumped over right now. Every single nerve seems to unwind as unadulterated pleasure washes over her. She moans and moans until she reaches her climax. Her voice gets caught in her throat as her cums seeps out of her and onto your face.

You feel something deep inside, nothing like it before. As Megan regains some of her composure she looks down at you and smiles. You almost feel like a dog that's about to be given a treat for good behavior. You should feel some sense of shame as you're not used to this, but instead you feel proud.

"Fuck," she lets her skirt fall down and she straightens up, "that was better than I thought it would be, no offense."

You were staring up at her with her cum on your face, of course you weren't offended. You wiped your mouth clean with your sleeve and stood up. Megan pulled up her panties and noticed how she could hear the birds chirping. The sun would slowly start to light the sky in about 20 or so minutes. She couldn't wait to go home and knock out after that.

"I think you'll do just fine," she pats you on the shoulder, something that feels oddly condescending. "But, if you ever need the reminder, I always work the closing shifts on Tuesdays and Fridays."

You didn't know what to say. You hoped you didn't need to come back and that everything with your new sort-of-relationship will work out. However, you feel a little pang in your stomach. Is it guilt for what you did? Is it sadness that it's over? Only time will tell.

[scara-hater]

HELLO I

AM HERE TO REQUEST

Cyno, Tighnari, Wanderer, and Xiao with a reader who feels lonely when they're gone so they knitted/made a mini plushie of them to hug and coddle with affection everyday

Cause plushies are cute and plushie of your favorite character? I will be gripping that piece of cotton for dear life

Idk if you have a character limit so you can just choose how many and who you want to write for, for this request :))

Anon this is so cute?? Yes yes and yes! Apologies if I misinterpret the request! I also got too excited, so apologies x2 if it seems rushed!

Not proofread! One day I will create a masterpiece when i actually edit my work.

Pt.2! <--

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Cyno

You two stay in touch as much as you can, but him being the general Mahamatra keeps your relationship distanced at times. He’s dedicated to his work and everything within the gaps means nothing. With you being the exception, kind of. He tries to make time, but if he views something important, he’ll mutter a quick apology before leaving you to sit around the house alone.

You actually told him that when he is absent, you cuddle a makeshift Cyno instead. You love that thing so much, it never leaves your side. Even when exiting the confines of your home, it is safely secured in your bag. Explaining to him that It’s just comforting, knowing that if the real Cyno can’t be there, at least you have one that stays with you at all times.

But something about that innocent statement, left a wavering feeling in is mind.

after he bid farewell, and was far beyond sight, it lingered in his brain.

You on the other hand, were missing him something fierce. The doll was made out of old materials that belonged to the white haired general, so it made it very soothing when you would hold it to your face. It’s smelled of his freshness, and if you closed your eyes, could imagine him there.

And as the day passes and the sun greets the moon, you grow tired as your eyes can no longer fight your sleep. Now, all that can be heard are your soft snores within the bedroom.

Meanwhile, thousands of meters away, Cyno lay awake. Chewing at the feeling he’s had all day, a doll? Of him? While he finds endearment in that and loves you even more for it, the emotions mixing in his chest sit unlabelled. Rolling to his side he shuts his eyes and awaits to see you in the morning.

And believe me, when he came home and saw you cuddling your dear doll, it hit him like ten million bricks.

He felt guilty.

“Wake up, I want to hold you.”

Tighnari

Told you he’s going to be gone for at most a week and apologized for leaving so suddenly, not forgetting to hug you before he parted ways. Though when he’s gone it feels so quiet. Always resulting in solemn feeling in your chest, you sit around thinking of ways to feel better, until one day it just clicks. make a little fox friend!

You run to your mess of a crafting table and start sewing. With a few stabs and much focused stitch work, you finally have it, your very own fennec fox hybrid! Admiring your accomplishment, you hold the treasure to your chest.

Days past and the mini companion never left your grasp. It sat in your lap as you ate and layed in your arms as you slept, needless to say the doll eased your sadness when Tighnari was gone. It truly helped you through some of those nights he couln’t be with you. And in all honesty? he to misses your company just as much.

Counting down each day until he can nest in-between your body once again, feeling the warmth of your embrace, Archons he’s thankful everything ended early.

Entering the city, putting his work aside and rushing home, he acknowledges the might night return, so he puts in an effort to silently crawl unto the covers without waking you. Now lifting your arm to lay under, only to find something invading his spot. That’s his spot y/n, just what lays in his way?

He picks it up, and upon further insection, it looks exactly like him. It’s a doll.

You really are just the cutest.

Carefully moving it to the side, he then finally shimmy’s into the bed, at last in your hold. Your hands find their place, and he falls asleep, knowing he chose the right mate.

Wanderer

Is often aiding the traveller in their goal of finding their twin. That and tasking in odd jobs around Sumeru, so usually chunks of your day has been dedicated to creating a partner to keep you from feeling empty. And now that it is complete, you can cuddle it as much as you want! Fiddling with it’s nubby hands and tracing it’s rosy cheeks, this was by far the best idea and probably the greatest thing you’ve crafted.

Lone days now accompanied by a tiny wanderer. How cute is that?

“What the hell is that?”

Oh, you didn’t hear him come in, “what, this?” You lift up the dainty thing, “why its you! Just travel size, you’re too big to carry you know?” You joke while he glares at the object. “I can see that, but just why do you have it? Are you going to give that one a consciousness too?” Ahh you see,

he’s jealous.

Putting the doll down, you fold your arms and tell him to look at you “ Are you seriously going to hate on something that was made so horribly? Look at it! If that thing was conscious, it would beg me to turn it back to mere cloth and string.” Pointing at it you continue, “I only made it because when you leave, I do miss you sometimes, is that such a crime?”

Certainly not, he loves it and finds his chest swelling.

“Perhaps not, though I am the only one you should be directing your affections, I too am a doll y/n, or have you forgotten?.” He turns around to escape the ever growing blush reaching his face. Though the tips of his ears are a dead give away.

Xiao

Watches over liyue, that is his priority when it comes to what he does.

And it is hurtful on nights like this one. Today was tiring and draining. Working in a noisy part of the city and interacting with less than enjoyable customers is not what you wanted to deal with. But life goes on, and all you wanted was to see your Adeptus and tell him about how awful today was.

Though, you remind yourself about his duties, and opt for a solution. Taking out your knitting needles, you begin your plan of a replacement Xiao. Harmless and fun. Plus when you succeed, the victory is even greater when you get to cuddle it while sitting down. It’s small and squishable, they both totally have the same vibe. The only difference is, your knitted partner wears a happy smile. Bringing one to your face as well. Oh how you wish he was next to you right now, holding it closer as you caress it’s cheeks with your thumb.

“Did you call me.”

“AH-“ falling of your chair, the squishy mini xiao flies out of your lap and lands on the floor. “Jeez, make some of sound before talking into my ear like that.” Looking his way, you see his gazed locked on the item on the floor. “Uhh, hehe yeah, um- when you’re gone I miss you and stuff so I made it to keep me company.” You say, hoping he didn’t find you terribly weird. Yet, you see him walk over to his mini figure and pick it up, looking over it. And seeing how much effort you put in makes him feeling all tingly.

“Summon me when you feel you want my company y/n, say the word and I’ll be here.” Archons he is so precious, “ I know that, but I don’t want to burden you when there are important matters to attend.” Now that put a pout on Xiao’s face. “you could never burden me.” He takes your hands in his,

“I will never ignore your call.”

Now, on days where you both reside together, two dolls can be seen placed on a shelf next to one another.

Requests open!

[ctheathy]

Yandere Miles “Nine” Prower Headcanons

Nine x Reader

Yandere Headcanons

Author’s note : Here’s the Nine hcs I promised!! Hope you enjoy these little double trouble posts <3<3

The original post with yandere Miles [Where Was My Hero?] + Similarities ➷

Nine/Reader [Romantic//Platonic]

+Slight WWMH Tails x Reader in bonus section [Romantic]

[Gender-neutral Darling|Female Darling|Male Darling]

Potential ⚠️TWs ⚠️ :

Fiercely overprotective behaviour • Slight anger issues • Severe trust issues • Slight delusional mindset • Anxiety • Jealousy • Emotional dependency • Descriptions of bullying • Nine is somewhat snappy

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Nine is a mobian who grew up mainly reclusive throughout his life until you decided to come around. Having dealt with severe bullying alongside the obvious loneliness through the years having caused in quite the instinctive distrust, and the amount of time he’s kept himself isolated in his underground workshop not helping with his antisocial behaviour in the slightest. No matter how the two of you would have met, it’s likely going to start off with you finding yourself intrigued by the nine-tailed presence. Perhaps you are a naturally doting individual, felt mesmerised by the uniqueness of the extra metallic tails, found his aura lure you in, or something else completely; But whatever is was, something you hadn’t realised is that this had caused in unintentional staring, unknowingly pushing attention onto the fox. And Nine, being the rather defensive spirit he is, would immediately assume the worst and take offense to this; resulting in you being cruelly confronted and perhaps even attacked, demanding answers for the unwanted observation. But the harmless intend you had behind your interest was quite literally the last thing he would have expected to occur.

The yellow furred fox has lacked normal interaction for a very long time, so when you start to compliment him to no end, he feels a slight sense of awkwardness, not used to the tender gestures you offered and praise slipping off’ another’s tongue so easily. It made him feel different... yet it somehow gave him a sense of closure with your words in particular. Which was surprising to him to say the least, especially as it had almost made him forget he was literal seconds away from clawing your face open with the metal tips of his tails. He knew he had met oddballs before, but you truly took it to a whole nother level. Though trust still wouldn’t be the exact wording to describe his current state right at that time, as he obviously still holds his suspicions, but your comments had certainly shut him up for a while. He would clam up and just stare at you wide eyed as you excitedly circled your way around him, not knowing what on Mobius to do about this situation. But little did he know that this would be the mere start of a dangerous soft spot starting to develop.

Though you had gotten out of harm’s way at first meeting, unfortunately for your case, this has not stopped him from continuously trying to push you away at first hand; he still thinks you’re weird... Rarely anybody had gone out of their ways to even speak to him if it wasn’t for harassment reasons, much less pamper him like you do-! He’d likely remain to add in on snarky comments, hoping it could scare you off one way or another. But even something that caught up with him over time was the realisation that despite your affectionate demeanour being quite the irritation to him at times, for some damned reason he just couldn’t dare to lay a finger on you with harmful intend. When questioned, he’d often just end up telling you and perhaps even himself that it’s purely due to the fact that you lack fighting experience and are rather delicate for your kind, giving him the opportunity to indirectly insult you once again, even if he realistically just can’t get himself to hurt you.

Another awkward one when it comes to your doting nature, but unaware of the emotional attachment that is slowly starting to form within his own mind. He’d find the growing fixation with you to be strange and uncanny to him, most likely behaving fairly cold torwards you in response, trying to reason with himself. He knows he’s more than capable taking care of himself, so why does he legit feel as if he’s dying when lacking your presence? Even his companionship with Sonic paled in comparison to what he felt torwards you. Over time he’d start noticing how much more numb he operates when you’re not around. Even when including subjects that would usually excite the fox, it’s almost as if it lost all meaning to him. It honestly being a surprise to even him how quickly attached he had gotten

For a certain while, he would even just put the blame on you for creating these changes in him so frequently; feeling as if he could have kept all his focus on a future surrounding his mechanical work until you and your mesmerising tactics came around. But this wouldn’t exactly stick with him for long, cause in the end he would really just put the accountability on himself for not escaping these sentiments while he had the chance, realising it to be irrational to blame you for something out of your control now. Even at this rate, finding himself at a dead end right about now, it really just results in a switch being flipped around inside of him; a little bit of hope wanting to give these said alliances one single try to work out for the both of you.

At first the fascination with you happened to be nothing but guilt-free, it even having been considerable as wholesome in a way. He’d especially invite you over to his workshop a lot, seeming to be incredibly thrilled telling you all about everything he’s learned over the years and show you the latest inventions he’s been working on. It almost had felt as if these moments in particular were slowly starting to recover the inner child of his that he’s lost track off a long time ago. But something you didn’t know about was the unwell side to this that also just so happened to be in growth. You’d find yourself spending more and more time in his workshop, weirdly after Nine had decided upon giving you an one hour talk on why the place was more trustable than any other out there; lecturing you without true purpose and trying to get his said conclusions across. You cannot remember when you’ve last seen the outside world, but you trust Nine. Surely you could take his word for anything ... Right?

He would be especially starved for your praise and appreciation, finding himself melting right on the spot when even just a simple compliment gets tossed his way. When being an individual who is gentle with their wording, he really takes everything that leaves your mouth to heart; but there remains a risky segment to this. Just due to how accustomed he can get to your encouragement, he can easily be put in a state of fraught when the amount of it has been too little for his liking. This also being the exact little push in making him contribute in acts that could potentially be considered as dangerous for as long as it catches your attention. He also gets severely apprehensive and rather uneasy when you need to leave his workplace for personal reasons; his anxiety being very much capable to be pushed torwards a full-on panic attack in no time. This would likely end up in him questioning the point behind their wanted leave and instead offering to do the job for them, which would eerily sound more like a demand than anything else. When the offer is insisted, however; he’ll still go with you, no questions asked, being fearful for your welfare and literally snarling at those who even dare getting too close.

If danger were to fall on you, he would absolutely lose his mind. He’s already naturally protective of those who earned his approval, and he truly expects himself to be ready for anything that could be causing them potential harm; so when a hit still does manage to strike you, it makes him feel distraught and genuinely terrified for once in a while. He believes himself to be pathetic in a way, failing in your safety despite having made a strict promise to himself to keep your fragile self in high priority. He also tends to become extremely discomposed when something like this manages to happen, which would be somewhat surprising to say the least, as he’s usually pretty collected of himself. In a scenario like this he would get on the paranoid side when it comes to your welfare; literally demanding you to remain in Sonic’s eyesight while he takes care of the little nuisance... Despite the connection that’s grown between the two, he wouldn’t even trust Sonic much when it comes to your sake, but it would have to do for now. He’d for sure go out of his way to hunt down whoever the fool was that decided to inflict harm upon you, may that be in secretive or through whatever means; he will get them to be at his mercy and he will make them pay for their unjustified actions. Not giving much care torwards his own physical self and energy levels when it comes to that; avenging you through pure wrath just to prove himself to you.

Despite the aggression tendencies he may experience from time to time, he certainly isn’t one to harm his darling in any way possible. The least that could happen is a screaming outbreak being shown and him acting somewhat snappy torwards you for a day or so, but even these are extremely rare experiences; only really happening if you continuously push his buttons and try to get on his nerves by will. And even so, he just couldn’t get himself to remain mad at you

As mentioned before, other than his overprotective demeanour, Nine honestly just makes himself out to be rather cool and perhaps even cold torwards his darling at first hand, despite it under the surface being much closer to the complete opposite. This also includes in not realising how much it could actually affect both the relationship between one another and perhaps even the darling themselves if they just so happen to be a sensitive soul. But even that little facade of his gets crumbled into bits real fast when one small tiny hunch of you wanting to leave finds itself into the picture. When given the hint that you want a break, he becomes a mess. In a sense of recollection, Nine would overextend himself and work himself to exhaustion in order to get you to come back with him. This often ending up in fighting everything and anyone to obtain items as a peace offering, believing apologies by word to be far too insignificant.

May that not work? He might already just be on the mere verge of snapping himself. He almost becomes a whole nother mobian when out in this state, his emotions and his true instability starting to show. He feels a dreadful sense of desperation, one he absolutely doesn’t wish to remind himself of; but at this stage, he’d honestly take anything as long as it could prevent your leave. He would hunt you down, literally feeling as if he’s on his knees at this point. Overwhelming his darling with the unsanitary desperation lingering in his eyes as his broken tone burns its way through their ear canal, all while practically being pinned to a nearby wall. And when having them cornered like this, he doesn’t even give his darling a way to respond torwards the situation to begin with. Because as much as he wants to deny it, he wouldn’t even take a no as an answer anymore; giving them absolutely zero opportunity to make the choices of their own will and putting an end to the entire conflict finding himself in your arms, despite how you would’ve had a clear expression of both disapproval and discomfort plastered on your face. Honestly making you wonder whenever he truly wasn’t aware of your squirming form under his touch or if was his selfishness who simply made him uncaring torwards it.

Neither of the two being too far out of reach fromout your perspective.

Bonus section #2 : Differences

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To understand the changes they have between one another, it’s important to take note of the one thing that sets them apart from eachother in the first place. It’s accurate the particular state was caused by Sonic not being there for them when they needed it most, but the actual difference between the two would be their eventual responses torwards the mistreatment they’ve faced; ultimately Nine started fighting back all by himself, while for Miles’s case ... he literally snapped. Their current positions in their timelines would hold quite the difference as well; Miles’ mental state being the more unfavourable one out of the two, and having even worsened so as the years went on, while Nine’s weaker side would include his emotional state.

While Miles was closer to wanting to prove his worth to the world in the end, Nine would rather be captivated by the idea of getting back the youth he never had, returning those connections in his life that he’s always lacked. His desperation levels also lingering a lot higher than those of Miles do. But despite this, which may even come by surprise; out of the two, I can still see Nine being the more stable one, genuinely wanting to keep himself on proper levels of behaviour stability and the severity of poor choice making being a whole lot less. Unlike Miles, he knows and understands the differences between wrong and right; and though these could sometimes be infringed due to his emotions taking a toll on him, he deserves a whole lot more credit on atleast trying to keep himself restrained in instability matters. A negative part on his side, however, is how much more dependent emotionally he can become on a darling who holds a sweet demeanour torwards him. Though being one who tends to be calm and mature for his age, due to him having lacked a responsible role model growing up, I can also see him becoming reliant on his darling’s decisions and personal view on things, making him even more vulnerable torwards his obsession.

While Miles would usually just be one to showcase the roots of his thoughts and emotions without a speck of shame or reconsideration noticeable in there, Nine would definitely be the one who’s a whole lot more closeted with how he truly feels. He’s just been hurt so many times that it’s rather become a strong habit for self protection more than anything else, it being no doubt that he has major trust issues to work on. Though right at the same time, both remain to put a lot of faith in their darling, but for different reasons. Nine’s high hopes laying torwards the beliefs that his darling won’t just betray and leave him behind with the reliance he has on them, while Miles’ complexity rather being his trust that his darling shall be able to purify the unfair planet, much like he believes that they did to him.

An important opportunity Miles never got was much like with Sonic, Nine would specifically offer you the creation of a world with just the two of you, except this time it would very much be by will. A place where he’ll finally be happy and given the freedom he never had, one where absolutely nobody can seperate the both of you or bring your life into any considered danger. One where he could completely put his fate into your bare hands. A place better than New Yoke City or even Green Hill or any other universe could ever be-! No matter how long the both of you would have moved on from past occurrences surrounding the Prism Shard, Nine remains to be on edge ever since, as he surely doesn’t trust any dimension out there to be good enough for your sake. The only suggestion seeming to be acceptable to him being a world created from his own hands, truly believing you to desire the exact same thing.

Making him not understand why the tears keep rolling down your cheeks in acknowledgement to his masterwork.

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[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 06

PREVIOUS

Andrew is dragging FF across campus towards where he parked his car and he is kinda of concerned that FF is just like fully letting himself be dragged across campus. I’m talking full on Andrew has a grip on the back of his hoodie, FF is just staring up at the sky, FF’s feet don’t even attempt to stop Andrew from pulling him where he wants to go, and when Andrew looks back FF’s face is just :I

Which even Andrew can admit is kind of weird.

Meanwhile FF is just like ‘The ground hasn’t really gotten cold yet so I’m sure Captain Neil and Andrew could really go to town on the hole they’re going to bury me in. I wonder what gave me away? It was probably the fucking Russian Literature book. I didn’t even like the plot twist in that one anyways. Can’t BELIEVE I’m gonna die due to my love of trashy literature. Thanks Grandma. Wait I’m sorry grandma, I didn’t mean to be rude-“

“Hey Granny Smith! I’ve been looking for you!” A most loathed nickname coming from a most loathed voice. Andrew doesn’t stop towing FF because why the hell would he? FF has never been so grateful to be dragged to his death! Now if only Andrew would break his long standing and well-known absolute refusal to do anything more than walk at a brisk pace.

He sees his step-brother jogging up to him and FF almost turns to Andrew to ask if he could just kill him HERE so he doesn’t have to deal with his step-brother and THEN get stabbed to death in the forest? He can accept that he should have told Andrew and Captain Neil that he knows Russian and the death sentence that rightfully comes with that but like C’MON having to deal with his Step-brother is just cruel and unusual punishment!

His step brother catches up and in a way maybe all the mental torture he’s gone through since coming to Palmetto is a good thing! He really was a novice at the poker face before and now he’s a grand master champion of staring at something that’s gonna SUCK and pretending like he has no idea that it is.

“Whoa there Granny.” His Step brother grabs his arm and tugs him out of Andrew’s grasp. Andrew really had not been paying attention to whatever jack off had been yelling something about apples. So FF getting yanked out of his hand was actually his first indication since FF didn’t say or react at all before. “You’ve been dodging all of Dad’s calls y’know. You still haven’t sent anything that we asked you for, got any excuse for that?!” His step brother demands.

FF looks heavenward because this is, like, so embarrassing. He can feel people stopping and staring at them.

(They were staring before his Step-brother showed up because he was getting visibly dragged through campus by ANDREW MINYARD. Some of his friends who had seen it were already planning a memorial service and candle vigil)

“Nope.” Because he has nothing to say about whatever the hell his step brother is talking about.

“Mom’s heartbroken you know! You haven’t reached out to her once!” he says. 

“I’ll get on that.”

“Are you going to get the stuff we asked you for?! We are family aren’t we? We’re not asking for a lot. Just for you to get tickets to your games for Dad’s colleagues, some autographs from your teammates, and a good word to that bleeding heart coach that we all should get the free ride you’re getting. That’s not too much right?!”

Andrew hasn’t intervened yet but now Andrew is under the impression that FF stopped hanging out because the kid’s family has been harassing him with calls and maybe this isn’t the first time they’ve come in person to campus. That’s why FF has been fading into the background. Andrew’s now under the impression that FF’s family has wanted him to use the Foxes (tickets, autographs, scholarships for his step brothers) and FF had just been pulling away so his asshole family wouldn’t bother the rest of them. That FF may not have been able to cut off contact completely because of a grandparent he was close to.

These are, in fact, the WRONG impressions of the situation at hand. The truth of the matter is that Wymack helped him get a new phone and phone number within 24 hours of getting to Palmetto, it was the one extra that he asked for in his contract and Palmetto is paying his phone bill now. The phone with the number his ‘family’ had just sits charging in a drawer on silent in Wymack’s desk because Wymack is INFINITELY petty when it comes to the things his Foxes are running from.

The other truth of the situation at hand is that Fluent Freshman’s grandma is the only member of his family he talks to regularly and he talks to her almost every single day of his life, she is the only person he can be completely honest with because she knows what a wimp he is and loves him regardless. 

His Grandma is just an EXCELLENT actress. So when his ‘family’ comes over for answers she’ll sigh, stare longingly at a framed photo of FF, and look out the window with a single pre-staged tear in her eye. She wouldn’t give them his new number no matter what.

He loves his grandma even if it was her teaching him Polish, her native tongue, that lead to him getting interested in the other slavic languages that lead him down the deadly path to Russian.

ANYWAYS.

Andrew is under some very wrong impressions but he is also under one very correct impression and it’s the impression that’s the most important anyways.

Fluent Freshman’s family is what made him a Fox and Fluent Freshman’s family are therefore the enemy.

Except FF doesn’t give Andrew the time to pull out his knife, “No, I don’t wanna do that. Bye Greg.” He says, pulls out his student ID, slaps it on a nearby scanner for a STUDENT ONLY building and power walks inside leaving Andrew and his Step Brother alone.

The door shuts behind FF with a distinctive lock and Greg looks at Andrew his face purpling from anger, “You’re going to let me in there and-“

Andrew now has plenty of time to pull out his knife. “You’re going to what?”

Greg swallows and in a show of excellent survival instincts runs the fuck away.

Andrew watches him run before he turns back to the STUDENT ONLY building and heads in himself. He finds FF just inside the doors and he looks tired sitting there against the wall. FF doesn’t say anything to Andrew, doesn’t even acknowledge that he’s there. Andrew takes a spot on the wall across from him. People give them weird looks but Andrew is fine with waiting.

He doesn’t mind just sitting in silence with FF again even if the circumstances aren’t what they usually are. So they sit.

FF has blue-screened. The stress of his impending death, of his step brother showing up and saying crazy shit, he blacked out a bit from the stress of being between Andrew and Greg and has no memory of what he said before he walked into this building and then there’s the fact that he just WALKED INTO SOME RANDOM CAMPUS BUILDING (oh god he’s probably not supposed to be in here but Greg is definitely still loitering outside maybe security will be gentle if he just sits right by the exit so they don’t have to go far to kick him out? Maybe he should move near a Different exit so Greg doesn’t see him get tossed like yesterday’s trash? Well he already sat down so now it’s embarrassing if he gets up to just go SIT AT SOME OTHER EXIT.)

So he’s taking a moment to reboot.

Unfortunately his ability to have internal conversations and recognize that someone is there with him is one of the last things that loads.

“It’s fine. I’ve always been the leftover kid. I don’t care that they don’t care. I don’t care either.” He says and it’s a mantra he’s repeated for almost a decade now.

It is definitely not something he thought he was saying out loud in the presence of Andrew Minyard and it is also definitely not something he was SAYING to Andrew Minyard but how the hell would ANDREW MINYARD KNOW THAT WHEN FF IS STARING STRAIGHT AT HIM WHEN HE SAYS IT.

So Andrew thinks it’s the explanation FF is offering about his step brother / family. If there’s one thing Andrew knows the feeling of it is being the ‘leftover’ kid.

The one-sided kinship grows while FF is working on rebooting his vision and getting his heart rate down to a BPM that wouldn’t have medical doctors concerned.

Finally, FF blinks his vision has returned back to him, sees Andrew Minyard across the hall from him, and, by the grace of GOD considering his fried nerves, FF does not flinch.

Andrew doesn’t make any move to grab him and FF decides to take this momentary reprieve that his executor is granting him to shoot off a text to his grandma. “I am so grateful for all the love you have given me throughout my life. I think I’m going to see Dad in the next few hours so please let me know if there’s anything you want me to say to him.” Is what he sends.

(This grandma has gotten almost this exact same text when he had an oral presentation last week. Her grandson is a wimp but she loves him.)

“Are we still going on that drive?” He asks his affairs settled. It’s nice that Andrew let him have a breakdown here and even let him text his grandma his final thoughts. He was willing to use his blood to write out the message but where would he get the paper?

“Yeah, we can go on that drive.” Andrew gets up and offers his hand to FF who looks at it for a long moment KNIVES. THOSE ARE KNIVES. HE USUALLY CONCEALS THEM BETTER? IS THIS HIS WAY OF SAYING HE’S GOING TO BE REALLY MESSY WITH MY DEATH? OH GOD HE’S NOT READY.

(Andrew didn’t really take the time to put his knives back in his arm bands properly because he figured he needed to catch FF before the kid disappeared again. He didn’t think he’d find him just inside the door.)

FF pushes himself up onto his feet.

They get to the Maserati and FF was AWARE that Andrew had a nice car but he hadn’t pieced it together that he’d be doing his last ride in such a nice car. He briefly pauses by the trunk wondering if he should just save Andrew the trouble and climb in himself?

Andrew sees FF pause at the car and figures he’s just being polite not touching Andrew’s stuff without Andrew’s permission. FF is just that kind of guy.

“The passenger seat is available.” Andrew says and alright cool Andrew wants to threaten him first that makes sense.

Except Andrew doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t drive them to a remote location. He’s just driving around Palmetto and FF does not think that Andrew is planning on crashing the car to kill him (He has unfortunately heard Aaron and Andrew have a fight in German when he was waiting for his own appointment with Betsy so he also Is aware what happened to their mom no matter HOW HARD he tries to forget that he knows.)

It’s just actually kind of a nice drive?

“He called you Granny Smith.” Andrew states. (Wondering if THAT is the elusive first name)

“I’m close with my Grandma. My last name is Smith. They’re not that creative.”

“Hm.” (Dammit)

Andrew watches as FF’s shoulders eventually relax until he’s almost falling asleep in the Mas and decides that the drive has done it’s job.

Eventually Andrew parks in front of the tower, tells him to respond to his texts from at least him and Neil, and he is released feeling very much like one of those animals that were released back into the wild after being tagged.

He texts his grandma later “NVM it wasn’t that bad.”

NEXT

Per your requests:

@i-have-three-feelings @blep-23 @dreamerking27

[mothduchess]

Kitsune HRT Part 3

Doors, are fucking,

TERRIFYING.

The office was unassuming by itself, yet the details spoke behind the facade's back, hinting to a truer nature. A nick upon the doorplate, how it could be pushed easily from any point on its towering height, or how dirt prints came in more varieties than just shoes. Snap! My gaze scampered upwards. The sun gazed unflinchingly from high above gazing through its mantle of clouds; it weighed like a crown with all of its aching heat. "I wonder how it'd feel with fur," I mused, before turning my gaze back to the office's doorway. I... couldn't distract myself for long. All that research I had done, the pep talk with my friends, they made it very clear: the first visit was the worst of them all. But like anything good and necessary, it still felt larger than it was. I could feel myself take a step back for just a moment. And then I stopped. The words of the kind man from before, and his quiet push to bring me to this place, they rang in my head as a gentle bell. Thoughts of her returned to my mind - my hands unconsciously went over my heart, head rolled to the side. I started to breathe. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In. The door gave way to a refreshing reprieve an an audience of chairs. "Barely anyone else here... suppose it *is* a work day." The few merits of unemployment aside, it did make me feel still ever so uneasy. I couldn't help it! And it wasn't just fear either. Looking to my side, I saw the wounds upon the wall, infamously left by one of the most notable patients. Those pictures were how I knew this place even existed, and now here I was caught in the wake of it all. I passed the healing plaster patch and shuffled towards the counter. A slight woman greeted me with a smile. "How can I help you?" "I'm here for... um, I think his name was Herian?" "Oh, Dr. Herian. Did you schedule a visit?" "Yes. Uh, it's under-" "Here it is. Miss Wild?" Her pleasant smile set me at ease. I simply gave a nod. "Just sit down, it won't take any time." I sat down. Names, are a tricky thing during transition. You're constantly confronted by them throughout the process. Modern society asks you what you are through your name, but what if you don't know? What if you wished you didn't need one? Right now, my appearance didn't speak for itself but already so many people just called me the truth: "Fox". It wasn't a name, but it was me. I'd gone through earlier versions; Wild was just a nickname that I enjoyed better than the one I buried states away. And maybe this one would meet the same fate. Her voice flittered upon the air. I knew the routine, and followed my part. If the front door was merely daunting, though, the door of Dr. Herian's was something *else*. Not by the door's fault. It was entirely the man inside responsible. A man no younger than 40 sat behind a heavy desk bolted to the floor gazed right through me as I came through, his gaze shielded by thick spectacles. Only wisps of hair decorated his scalp with a bush rounding the rest and sitting over his lips. Theodore Herian was the stern face of the entire program, a genius amongst his field and a veritable boogeyman to the community. Wordlessly I sat before him in the tiny chair provided, shuffling to cut a smaller figure. "Miss..." his eyes glanced at the file before him, "Wild. According to my schedule, you're here on behalf of the Humanity Removal Therapy?" "Correct." "Mh. I see. Specifically.... ah, right. Kitsune, which involves a variant of vulpinestin. We do have the medication-" Here it comes. "-but have you been living as a fox for years, now?" "For as long as I knew what thought was." "Yes sir. I've been presenting as a fox publicly for a while now, both online and in person." Physical visits were so much more stressful than the online consultations my first transition brought with it. And the questions he asked, I felt as if he was investigating the fiber of my being. Pouring water upon glass to find any sign of the slightest crack. "To be clear, what you're asking for-"

"Practically begging for." "-is the kitsune type, not the standard North American Red Fox. This comes with more than just tails. Even more so than other HRT medications, the kitsune comes with notable side effects. Illusions, fire, s..." The voice filtered out. I knew what I was getting into, and I knew to some they'd misinterpret why. 'That I just wanted the powers' or 'it'd be okay if you were just a fox'. I might be a vixen, a creature of cunning and sneering grins - but I wasn't some kind of plotting mastermind! My fingers pinched the sweatpants I came by today in with frustration twisting under the skin. The irritation ran like wax, my mouth pulled into the faint signs of an oncoming sneer. I would be a beautiful vixen even if it killed me. Not for any reason other than to ring in a new spring. "I'll do this. I'm right here. It's almost the-" "MISS. Wild.... Good. You're back. Did you hear what I said?" I gave a flustered nod, which he responded with an exasperated sigh. "Then, I would like to be the first to thank you for coming here, and to let you know - you may pick up your medication at your chosen pharmacy." He handed over a pamphlet that felt as precious as gold in my fingers. For moments, I was on autopilot. Step Step Step Step At some point I recall bidding a polite farewell to the receptionist? But my mind was a buzzing hurricane of thoughts, a whirl of actions. Petals honey gold silk cars sirens light heat skin sweat lock key ho-! My door clicked behind me, the vacancy greeting me warmly. The bag crumpled underneath my fingers. And when I heard that rattle? The light kissing the bottle and coming out changed as an amber gold nectar that seeped into the floor? I wept, and delighted sounds of a fox escaped my throat. Kitsune HRT: Week 1 OH MY GODS OH MY GODS I HAVE THE MEDICINE, AAAAAA -No changes yet. First pills, but so stoked. -Gods I felt I was going to die in that office. -Thank the fucks I do not have oh HELLS. -....I hope I end up fluffy

--------------------------------------------------------------------- <PREV FIRST NEXT>

[mothwingwritings]

WOW!!! I LOVED "The Innocent Act Of Dredging Up The Past", IT WAS VERY GOOD!

I wonder how Y/N reacted when she found out she was pregnant and how Fox allowed herself to keep the baby because he doesn't seem like someone who likes sharing attention.

Thank you so much darling!!! I am so glad you asked me this because I have been thinking about Ren as a father nonstop since that request. My brain has been full of many thoughts and opinions and I am happy to have an outlet for sharing lol. That being said, forgive my blathering. ^^;

(18+ and warnings for noncon, pregancy/baby birthing talk, incredibly unhealthy relationships, abuse, and being kidnapped/held against your will.)

Being impregnated by Ren would be absolutely dreadful for you, causing you to spiral into a pit of fear and despair the moment you miss a period or begin to feel queasy in the morning. With the signs starting to show, your brain comes to the instant conclusion that you are with child-his child, and it frightens you like nothing else before. At first you try and convince yourself nothing is wrong, that you are probably just late due to stress, and your upset stomach can be any number of things, it doesn’t necessarily mean you are pregnant. Any of your symptoms can be explained away by something else, so in an effort to try and maintain your sanity your brain churns out explanation after explanation, no matter how nonsensical they may be, in hopes of calming your rampant nerves by coming to some other resolution. A stream of constant lies and false reassurances play on repeat in your brain, forcing the thought that you may actually be a mother to the farthest reaches of your mind.

But the longer you wait and the more you dwell on it, the more you are faced with the inevitable. He never wears protection, you haven’t had access to birth control, and despite your warnings of it being a delicate time of month for you, his base instincts always won out in the end. There was nothing else this could be.

Faced with the reality of the situation, you were now tasked with the burden of sharing the news with Ren. You didn’t want to tell him, terrified of what his response would be, worried that he would somehow blame this all on you and hurt you because of it, quite possibly worse than he ever has before. But an even more horrifying concern than that is if the news actually pleases him. What if he wants to keep the baby? What if you were forced to carry this pregnancy to term while trapped in this grim environment, left to raise another human that shares half their dna with a man who has done nothing but cause you irrevocable damage?

No matter what the outcome, none of them are favorable.

But you didn’t have a choice, and you knew it was better to break it to Ren sooner rather than later, lest this whole nightmare become irreversible. In the event he saw things your way, you wanted this thing out of your body as soon as possible (though you loathed to consider what strings Ren would pull to achieve this, and what backwater procedure would be done to do so).

At first Ren brushes it off, not truly believing your concern. He’s had sex with you countless times without protection and just now you get pregnant? Seems suspicious, so he concludes you’re either overreacting or trying to get a rise out of him, potentially both, and that in and of itself riles him up. Are you telling him this as some kind of ploy? Are you using a false pregnancy as a means to get him to ease up on you a bit or as an attempt at escape? After all you had gone through together, after all the love he has lavished upon you by sharing his home, his life, his heart, with you… Would you really tell a lie like this?

He struggles with that possibility. Despite his inclination to feel otherwise, he has a hard time believing you would use a pregnancy scare for your own selfish benefit. You have always been a good girl, his good girl, and deep inside he knows this is not something that is within your nature to do, even if he does have some major doubts.

So, though he doesn’t truly believe your claims, he buys the pregnancy test more as a means to shut you up and prove a point than because he actually believes you. Needless to say, he ends up biting his tongue over that one.

When hit with the truth, his emotions are mixed. On one hand, he wants nothing to do with children or child rearing. He didn’t have to do much of a self-assessment to recognize he would be a shit father, and he never particularly wanted to be a father to begin with. His own upbringing wasn’t the best, he himself never really having a father figure that was worth a damn to guide him or show him any love or support. He had no parenting manual to go off of, and was sure that a culmination of having no positive family experience and maturing into the warped individual he had become led to no other conclusion than NOT being cut out for fatherhood in the slightest.

More than that however, the thought of sharing you, even with a life he helped create, really REALLY pissed him off. Thinking of all the nights you would be spending tending to the baby when you could instead be wrapped up in his arms, or all the attention and affection you will be giving some inept kid that could instead be going towards him, truly gets under his skin. He doesn’t WANT to share you. You’re HIS. And while a baby isn’t going to change that, he doesn’t want the needless competition to begin with.

But on the other hand, having a baby does have its appeal. It would be nice to bring a life into this world that loves him from the get-go, completely relying on him while being totally oblivious to all that has happened in the past. That sort of pure, blind love is hard to come by in this world, and the fact that he could obtain it so easily from a life he created with you, a human that has your blood running through its veins, is EXTREMELY appealing. And on top of that, you are sure to love the child whether its conception was wanted/planned or not. If you loved a child that was half his for the remainder of your life, would that not bind you to him for just as long? Though he didn’t doubt your loyalty (or his ability to keep you tied to him with no hope of escape), it would be a nice assurance to have in the rare event things did not end up going his way.

Once that thought enters his head, it’s over. No further thinking or future planning is required-he is going to be a father, and YOU are the beautiful mama! Congratulations! (Does he get off to you being pregnant? Did this pregnancy make Ren Hana realize he has a breeding kink??? Sources say yes and that’s your problem to deal with now. :))

♡

Holding his newborn for the first time, he has never been so nervous. Tears flood his eyes as he watches the small bundle squirming in his arms, his heart aching as they stare up at him with wide, pure, inquisitive eyes. He was no stranger to ending lives, but creating them? This was something entirely new, as exhilarating as it was scary. His smile grew as he stared at her small face, pleased that she looked so much like you. He could only hope that her personality would mirror yours as well.

♡

As time passes and the baby grows, you find out quick that Ren has a very ‘hands off’ way of parenting, which is to say he relies on you to do most of the work. And honestly, he feels that is fair. He’s the breadwinner who works hard to provide for you and the newborn, which leaves all other parental duties in your capable hands. You are left to be the child’s main caregiver, their guiding force to lead them through life, their teacher, confidante, and friend. It’s a daunting task, all residing solely on your shoulders.

Ren won’t readily admit it, but he much prefers it that way. All the abuse that he has suffered through from an early age, every heinous act of violence that has been carried out by his own hands (your wounds, included), all of it has turned him into something unrecognizable, something grotesque. Even if he wanted to have more of a presence in his child’s life, he knows he doesn’t deserve it. If he had too much sway in the kids development there’s a good chance they will grow up to be like him in some way or another, which would be a waste of all the love and hard work that you had put into raising them into being an upstanding person. Ren had made peace with who he had become, but that didn’t mean he wanted to keep a cycle that someone like Strade had begun going either.

So, the baby more or less becomes your soul responsibility, and god is that a burden for you. It’s bad enough that you have such little support from Ren to begin with, but the fact that this is YOUR first time being a parent as well makes it all so much worse. You have no idea what the hell you are doing, and with Ren making sure to keep you as isolated as possible you had no one else to turn to for help, either. It was just you and this brand new life with no one else to rely on, if you fucked up in even the smallest way it could be devastating to the baby. If your daughter got truly hurt, sick, or worse in your care, you didn’t know how you would live with the repercussions, let alone handle Ren’s reaction.

If your life with Ren hadn’t already made you a strung out, nervous, irritable wreck, being a mother certainly would. As she continues to grow, Ren refuses to discipline the child at all, not wanting in any way to appear like a ‘bad guy’ to your daughter. Given the circumstances, part of you is thankful for that (you honestly don’t know what you would do if he turned his ire towards her), but it also just makes things more difficult with you. You are already beyond stressed about trying to raise a child in this type of environment, having no united front and constantly butting heads makes raising her that much harder, especially when any kind of rule you attempt to establish can so easily be overridden by her father who has no remorse over the frustration this causes, nor care as to how his flippancy may affect your child’s development in the long run.

It’s also not lost on you that being the sole disciplinarian also paints you in a less than favorable manner in your child’s eyes, something you are sure Ren has thought about as well. Being the ‘strict’ parent means your child will be more likely to hide things from you, or seek out her father instead of you for support, approval, and advice. Given whom Ren was as a person, this thought didn’t sit particularly well with you.

All you can really hope and pray for is that somehow despite the lack of social interaction and outside influence she will grow up to be a decent human. Even maturing under the delusion that her father is a noble man, even if in some instances you have to make yourself the villain, as long as it helps her out in  the long run you’ll do everything you can to insure your daughter lives the best life she possibly can, whether her father helps you or not.

I think the REAL problems will begin when the child gets older. When she truly comes into herself and forms her own opinions, develops her own personality, and starts to forge her own way of life… It’s gonna be messy. :/ Your child’s autonomy is definitely going to be a point of contention for Ren in the future, and he won’t be so pleased if/when she catches on to his true nature and begins to rebel or straight up reject him. God forbid she tries and join forces with you or attempt to become your savior. It’s going to take a lot of cunning on her end to make it out unscathed.

Also, I kind of touched on it previously, but Ren would be incredibly horny the whole pregnancy. Not that he isn’t already incessantly slavering over you, something about seeing you round and full just makes him snap. Which is scary in its own right, Ren isn’t the most gentle of lovers to begin with and has a tendency to lose himself more often than naught, hurting you in the process. It’s a constant struggle to satiate him while protecting yourself and the unborn baby, best of luck to you! :D

(And he’ll definitely breastfeed from you. He’s gotta make sure you are producing enough for the baby, ya know? :))

[bunji-enthusiast]

Hi!! How have you been? Hopefully things are going smoothly on your end <3

Redeemed! Scourge being jealous 👀✨ the healthy kind of jelly since he's now redeemed <3 idea is it could be ANY characters you want and reader bonding, Scourge might feel a little awkward to interrupt but also slightly tempted?? ( Say he's trying to be better ) So he's just kinda debating what to do, prob leave them alone out of respect but acts slightly grumpy throughout the day, whatever happens next is up to you!

Ty and good luck <3

Jealous, Jealous Boy

Note || hello friend, this is such an interesting one. I hope this was okay! ^^

WC || 930

This feels weird, he knows he isn’t supposed to act like this.

Actually feel the way he does for that matter, but who’s counting? Scourge sure as hell ain’t. He didn’t want to feel so jealous. When he saw you talking with Tails, for whom he shouldn’t even feel jealous of – it put him in a rather complicated spot emotionally. So he deduced the next best thing possible, which was to leave the two of you alone out of respect. Disappearing is an easy act for Scourge, but for so many, shouldn’t even be something to be thought of in the first place.

“Huh?” You looked up from your paper, hearing Tails’ verbal confusion. You raised a brow right as you were about to inquire what he was so confused about. Immediately without question, the fox pointed to the spot where Scourge had once stood, seemingly was there with you in the first place as he had accompanied you to go see Tails.

“I’m surprised I didn’t expect him to disappear out of thin air.” He says, turning to look back at you. You shrug and sigh, knowing how Scourge was–in a way–his effort in trying to be better in social situations and cues was commendable. Rather you thought he was actually improving, but now you have no idea why he had gone away.

One could only assume he possibly had personal business to attend to, yet many thoughts and possibilities had raced through your mind.

“Scourge is still a bit on edge,” You mention, a wince crossing your face as you continued, “All things considered with his history with you and the others.” He nods in understanding as he listens to your words, the young boy was none the wiser to such things; Tails could only hope Scourge will be able to forgive himself soon, as the fox already did.

But for once, he didn’t want to worry about the rebellious hedgehog. If he could even be called such a thing, but it felt correct — Less than so, but it was there in a sense. Scourge is and was kinder in the loosest sense of the word, it's even refreshing compared to his less developed sense of self before. Tails was rather surprised to see how much you managed to change him, just shows how much people and strangers alike can really change you depending on who you surround yourself with.

Tails knew, in a way. The situation with his father, he had only mentioned it in passing. He is unsure—besides you—if any of the others knew.

His paw reaches out to your arm, settling down upon it to prevent you from walking away. “You should take a break, I’ve got all the data I need.” He smiles, nodding at you reassuringly. He didn’t want you to fuss over the work he should’ve gotten done by himself in the first place, but he much rather preferred if you stuck with Scourge.

Tails can tell that you need it.

He needs it.

You frown for a moment, opening your mouth to refute his words. But the look on his face, had changed your mind. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer anyway, you could respect that fact. Tails can be rather fierce when needed to be, these were one of those moments.

Sometime later, you finally caught up with Scourge finding him at one of his usual spots. Uphill on a vastly different location from Tails’ Workshop. You wondered what he was thinking about.

“Hey.” You said with a softer tone, as you didn’t want to startle your hot-tempered… friend? You weren’t sure what to call him officially right now. Scourge scoffs, looking over at you to see you looming aside directly from him. The look in his eyes was one you didn’t expect, especially not in the long-run anyway. He shifted in his spot, shuffling aside to make room for you.

“Hm,” He sighs, deflating in place as you had laid your head against his shoulder. Scourge wasn’t against it, rather unexpected, but he could sense the touch as a safe one.

He could rest.

The location was Station Square, rather calm and bustling for the most part; but it was peaceful, quiet. Aside from all the sobering noise, you could tell the people and the city itself was very reassuring for Scourge.

“You were not there anymore.” You break the silence, finding it quite awkward for a moment as Scourge seemed to be surprised at the momentary notion. “Why?”

Scourge’s lips pursed, then curled into a frown, teeth sharpening and revealing themselves. His emotion was getting the better of him again. Slowly, he breathed in and out. One of the common and basic exercises he learned while he was in therapy. It wasn’t entirely helpful or clear, but it allowed him to focus — settle the nerves.

“Ain’t none of ya business.” He retorts finally, but his bite was there. At least that was a sure-fire thing of the situation you felt was unsettled, not anymore now however. You paused in the silence that followed, it seemed to be happening very often as of late.

“Believe me when I’m here for you, no need to feel sorry for emotions that are normal to feel.” You said, nuzzling your cheek into his own. Scourge flinched, then relaxed into your touch.

It was a while, but it was reassuring to Scourge.

Feelings were a fickle thing.

The jealousy waned and your heart was filled with the calm that had stirred Scourge to a sense of peace and relief.

“Thanks.”