#angry confession

[messylustt]

hii since u said you’d do something for stilinski can i request a fic where the alpha twins were just introduced and stiles and reader (best friends) like each other (everyone in the pack knows but them) and reader thinks stiles doesn’t like her so they start hanging out with the twins more and stiles gets jealous and it’s like a angry love confession and maybe smut?

++ thank u so much for taking the time to read & write this!! your writing is actually making me happy as sappy as that sounds💗💗

you’re my friend, not theirs — stiles stilinski + reader ( teen wolf ) : stiles getting jealous over the blooming friendship between you and the twins.

contents : jealous!stiles. kissing. sorry no actual p in v. i need to watch teen wolf again — that shit was gooood, and thank you so much ur actually so sweettt

"I want one." Lydia said, eyes focused behind you and Allison.

You both turn in your chairs to see the two new twins talking by a bookshelf. "Which one?" Allison asked, turning back. You kept your gaze on the twins, mainly for the fact that they were said—by your strange friend group—to be alphas.

Why they chose to go to school you could only guess. Most likely not to actually enjoy classes, but to keep an eye on said strange friend group.

"The straight one." You answered for Lydia. "I'd hope." You turn back in your chair to see Lydia narrowing her eyes.

You smile, just as Stiles slumps in the free chair beside you. Scott taking one beside Lydia. You glance back around at the twins, tilting your head in a slight observation.

Then you feel a poke on your arm. You turn your head to face Stiles, who is eyeing you with furrowed brows. "What are you looking at?"

"Our new classmates." You say, gazing back.

"You know they're alphas, right?" Stiles asks, making you nod. "Like, deadly...scary alphas?" He re-asks narrowing his eyes, as you chuckle.

"I heard they can shift into...like...one big werewolf." You say, in slight awe.

Stiles scoffs. "It's not that impressive."

"It kind of is." You mutter. Then you hear your seat scraping against the floor as Stiles jolts you around to face away from the twins.

"Do you know the distinction between friends and enemies?" Stiles asks, making you scoff. "Scott, did you know that y/n's rather stupid?" He asks Scott, making you elbow his arm.

"Yeah. She thinks the twins are cool." He continues, as you try to shut him up with your hand.

"I'm not the only one." You say defensively, before gesturing to Lydia, who is still eyeing up the straight twin.

"Well that's...Lydia." Stiles grabs your wrist, removing your hand from his mouth.

"Wow, your reasoning is impeccable, Stiles."

Stiles tilts his head at your sarcasm, the edges of his lips curving up a fraction. You get your wrist out of his grip before looking at Lydia—Allison and Scott caught up in conversation. "It's called having taste, Stiles."

Stiles raises his brows. "Taste?" He nearly exclaims. "Did you get hit in the head?"

"Alright...I'm gonna head to science." You say, ignoring stiles, standing, as the others spare you 'goodbyes'.

Stiles calls to your leaving form. "You have zero taste, y/n. Nada!"

You chuckle as you walk out into the hall. Stiles has been your best friend for almost forever. You enjoyed his jokes and even his incessant sarcasm. But you hated the fact that whenever he smiled butterflies would swarm your stomach. Whenever he would look at you a certain way your cheeks would pinken.

You had to brush it all way, knowing he wouldn't feel the same. And ruining such a long friendship would be horrible. Your mind is caught as you nearly collide with someone.

"Shit— sorry." You say looking up, holding a tighter grip on your notes.

One of the alpha twins stares back at you, a small smirk edging his lips. You quickly take in his appearance and the way he holds himself. "And I'd take it your the...straight one?"

He chuckles before beginning to nod. "Aiden." He introduces.

You nod. "Nice to meet you."

He raises his brows awaiting your own introduction. You go to speak, opening your mouth, but pause, seeming to remember exactly who Aiden is. "Will I be in danger if you know my name?" You whisper ask.

Aiden leans down to whisper back. "You might be safe."

"I might?" You ask, raising your brows.

Aiden smirks. "A pretty face usually makes it far."

Your mouth partly opens in slight shock. "Ha. So, you are a flirt." You straighten up. "Lydia's gonna love you."

"Mm, and what about you?" He asks, brushing a strand of hair away from your shoulder.

You chuckle. "Again—Lydia's gonna love you." You then step around him, walking into your class.

Stiles had seen one of the alpha twins follow you out. And of course, with a narrowed gaze—he followed him. He stopped upon seeing the twin speaking to you. Stiles' grip on the doorway was tight as he watched. A scowl formed as he saw the twin brush your hair over your shoulder, you chuckling about something.

What the hell were you talking about?—Stiles wondered, wishing he had scott's hearing. His stomach had tightened the moment he saw you with him. Hating seeing you smile at the enemy. But it wasn't just for the sake that it was the twin you were talking to. Stiles would feel like it no matter what dude it was. He wanted you to smile at him like that. Not someone else.

When you passed the twin for your class Stiles saw the way he eyed your form before leaving for his own class. Stiles scoffed to himself, glaring holes into the back of the alpha's head. No way was that beast getting you.

A few days had passed and through the halls you had caught yourself talking to the twins. It started off brief, just passing nods and a few hello's. But then you started picking up conversations where you'd left off the next time you'd pass eachother.

Stiles saw as you would wave at them or smile, them cracking a joke or a compliment. On the occasion that he would walk with you, Stiles' expression couldn't be more gloomy. You'd bump his shoulder making a comment on the "glare" he'd mastered, but Stiles' couldn't laugh, only hearing Aiden's compliments on your outfit or hair.

At first he didn't want to acknowledge that he was jealous. Because then he'd have to remember his large crush on you. He had had to push it away, knowing you wouldn't feel the same. You were freinds, and Stiles hid behind that concept, forcing himself to reason his glares to him just being a good friend, not wanting you to date someone like Aiden.

But once the days drew out, you and the twins seeming to grow closer, Stiles finally accepted his jealousy. You were his friend not there's. So, when he saw you smile and blush at a compliment Aiden gave you, he couldn't help himself but grab your wrist and pull you somewhere secluded.

You swiftly turned to face Stiles as you stared at him in confusion. You both are in the boys locker room, it being empty—the laccrosse team not practicing today. "What the hell-"

"What the hell is that?" Stiles cuts you off angrily. You stare at him, brows furrowing.

"What?"

"That." Stiles gestured to the now closed door. "Them. The twins."

"Aiden and Ethan?" You ask.

Stiles scoffs at the first name basis. "Yeah, Aiden and Ethan."

"What about them?" You slowly ask, never really having seen Stiles so mad.

Stiles clenches his jaw, all the past days annoyance bubbling up. "What about them? Really, y/n?"

Your still displaying confusion, as Stiles steps closer. "Why the fuck are you talking to them?"

"You're mad at me becasue I've said hi?"

"Oh, you've said more than hi." Stiles scoffs. "You keep talking with them in the halls as if your the closest of friends."

"Look Stiles, I know you don't like them. And I know they aren't particually saints. But if you spoke to them you'd realise how not in control they are. Deucalion—"

"I don't care for their sobstory, y/n. And you shouldn't either. You barely know them." Stiles has progressively gotten closer, before he's backing away, running his hands through his hair in annoyance. "God." He mutters.

"Stiles." You say, making him meet your gaze. "What is this?" Your tone has stayed calm, not wanting to start an arguement with Stiles of all people. "Are you okay?"

"No, y/n. I'm not." He finally says, fully stepping closer. You slightly stumble back at how swift his movement was. "Why do you want to talk to them?"

"Stiles, they...they're nice. They make me feel good, strangely enough."

"They make you feel good?" Stiles asks, eyeing you.

"They make me laugh. They are quite funny." You mutter, seeing how close Stiles is getting.

"Oh." Stiles chuckles, though the humour is lost. "Aren't they just amazing. Making you laugh and smile. You even blush around Aiden."

Your cheeks begin to redden on embarrassment as you cough. "No, I don't."

"Yeah, you do. And it's really annoying." Stiles says. "You know what else is annoying?" You meet his gaze, pressing your lips together. "The fact that you're blushing for him right now."

You scoff. "I'm not."

You can feel Stiles' breath hit your face. "I really hope that's true."

"Stiles, why are you so angry about this?"

And he cracks. "Because I don't want you to like some rabid wolf, I want you to like me!"

Stiles freezes, processing what he just revealed. Fuck. You stare at him, mouth beginning to open.

"What..." You drift off, your heart beating rapidly in your chest.

"I-" Stiles begins, stepping back, shocked and incredibly nervous at his own words. "I didn't-"

"You...like me?" You slowly ask.

Stiles goes to shake his head for fear of your rejection, but then he thinks of Aiden, and switches to a small nod.

Now your shocked, confirmation that his first confession wasn't a slip up. Silence has engulfed the locker room and Stiles can't bear it. "Say something...please."

"I didn't know...you liked me like that." You mutter, your life long crush's words having taken a toll on you.

He couldn't let you date Aiden and now you knew why. But your moments of silence were crushing his heart. He began to step farther away, thinking he just ruined your friendship, when you quickly grabbed his cheeks, and kissed him.

Stiles eyes widened, before they became hooded, the feel of your soft lips making his stomach do somersaults. But then your pulling away far too soon, eyes wide, your own shock at what you just did easily visible.

But Stiles doesn't waste another moment, smashing his lips back to yours. You slightly stumbled back at the force as Stiles began to lick and eat at your lips. He groaned into your mouth when he was able to finally push himself against you, your back hitting a locker.

"Oh, god." Stiles muttered against your lips. "This means you like me back...right?" He asks as he began to kiss your cheek and jaw, leading all the way to your neck, as his hand slipt around your waist.

"No, Stiles." You sarcastically say, making him chuckle against your skin. You grab his face, bringing him back to your face. "Kissing you doesn't mean I like you." You kiss him, your tongues eagerly meeting.

"I'm glad you've picked up my sacrasm." He says, continusously kissing you. "Otherwise that would hurt."

You smile into the kiss, your head buzzing with this reality. You had begun to unbutton his jeans, making his breath hitch, but he quickly grabs your hand, making you meet his gaze in question. "I didn't like hearing that the twins make you feel good." Stiles says, putting your hands over his shoulders, as he lead one of his hands back down.

He unbuttoned your jeans, slipping his hand inside making you grip his shirt. "I want to make you feel good." Stiles kisses you, as he reaches your panties, pushing them aside as he finds your wetness. You jolt when his fingers find your clit. "Much better than them." He whispered as he began to rub your pussy, circling around.

"Christ." You whispered into his neck, before your head hit back against the locker.

Stiles trailed one finger to your hole, pushing inside, making you whimper. "At first I was hurt, because you were my friend not theirs." Stiles said as he pushed another finger inside you making your hips stutter. "But now that doesn't matter, because you can be their freind all you like." Stiles littered kisses along you collerbone and neck. "As long as I can kiss and touch you like this." He grinned against your skin as you moaned, his pace quickening.

"Oh, god— please." You breathe, finding your hand in his hair. You kiss him, letting your lips bruise as he laps at your tongue. Stiles then kisses your cheeks. "You look so cute when you blush."

Your cheeks had heated due to the actions given by Stiles. "I thought you got annoyed when I b-blushed."

Stiles chuckles, curling his fingers inside you. You pant, sweat forming across your forehead. "That's only because you were blushing for Aiden. But now your blushing for me." Stiles smiles. “All for me."

© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms

[j-eryewrites]

What the hell was that?!

MAIN MASTERLIST | REQS OPEN

Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Request: Hi!! I’m loving your Arbitrary Lives fic so much!❤️ I was wondering if I could request a Sherlock one-shot, please? My idea was that they come home from a case and are having an argument because one of them did something risky and there’s like a “why do you care?” “Because I love you!” moment. I’d love an angsty confession!!🥹

Warnings: Guns firing, breaking and entering, Sherlock is Sherlock, angst with a happy ending, idiots in love, Sherlock shuts reader up with a kiss, angry confession, worried Sherlock. 

You stormed into the flat. The door swung behind her hitting the wall with a thud. You frantically ran your hand through your hair trying to distract yourself from the scolding you’d get from Sherlock. 

 You two were working on a case. A case that his brother, Mycroft, had asked you to help with. It was a case of national security. A case that required the two to go snooping. A case that could easily go very wrong very fast. 

Mycroft assured the two of you that the office building would be empty. All you and Sherlock had to do was go in and look around. Sherlock would use his brilliant mind and you’d look around for anything useful. 

_______

“You ready?” You had asked Sherlock more to calm yourself instead of him. You weren’t ready despite the years of snooping and solving cases alongside Sherlock. You were going to mess up. You knew it. 

“Always,” Sherlock replied. His voice was cool and calm. He straightened his coat. Your eyes followed as his hands lifted the collar of his coat. Afterwards, he returned his focus to the door. His long finger worked diligently to pick the lock on the office door. Fingers that you wished were trailing your body right now. 

It was no surprise you liked Sherlock. Well, it was a surprise for you. He was a confident, stubborn, sarcastic, oblivious man who had a smart mouth. He always seemed to get on your nerves and knew exactly which buttons to press. That didn’t stop you from barking back at him. You had a mind of your own. With each argument or sarcastic comment that treaded close to the fine line of flirting, your mind and heart slowly opened up to the idea of Sherlock. Before long you found yourself blushing in his presence. His blue eyes looking at you were all you need to turn as bright as a cherry. 

It wasn’t until John stopped by one day that you realized you liked Sherlock. John saw your face turn bright red and immediately knew. He was too good of a friend not to notice. Unlike Sherlock, John actually had the ability to read people’s emotions quite well. He pulled you to the side and you confessed. John only smiled and chuckled to himself. He urged you to tell Sherlock. A suggestion that you profusely shot down. Despite how much you long to tell Sherlock, to take your partnership to another level, you needed Sherlock as a friend. You needed him in your life. His comments, his beautiful mind, and his friendship meant more to you than anything. You couldn’t lose it. You couldn’t lose Sherlock, so you kept your mouth shut. 

“You’re staring,” Sherlock smirked. 

You shook yourself out of your daze. “Sorry, just…”

“Nervous?” He replied. 

“Yeah,” you chuckled. 

“We’ll be fine.” He stated. Sherlock’s way of comforting you. 

We, you repeated in your mind. He said ‘we’. You smiled softly at his words. 

“Yeah.” 

“Take my hand,” Sherlock instructed. 

You looked at him with wide eyes. “Sherlock we’re supposed to…”

“I don’t care what my brother said. You’re nervous and that alone is a disaster. Let me hold your hand.” 

He stuck his hand out in front of you. You were hesitant. Your hand hovering above his. Sherlock grew impatient and clasped your hand. You gasped slightly as he tugged your hand to his side pulling your body closer. 

“Relax,” he whispered. His hand squeezed yours gently. 

You closed your eyes and took in a deep breath. You could feel Sherlock’s stare and it wasn’t helping with the nerves. Get a hold of yourself, Y/N! You thought. 

Your lungs had reached their capacity, finally exhaling out. A wave of calm hit you and your hand felt cold. Sherlock had let go. 

“Good, shall we?” He asked. He turned the knob and with a click the office door opened. 

________

“What the hell was that?!” Sherlock swore. 

You turned to look at the man in question. His jaw was clenched tightly his icy blue eyes bore into yours. You felt a chill creep up your spine. There was the saying that eyes were the window to the soul, and you could swear he was staring directly at yours. 

You rolled your eyes. “I saved your ass.” 

“Y/N,” Sherlock growled. 

You turned around to face him. 

“What?” You spat. The adrenaline from the evening was finally leaving. 

_________

You should have known someone was going to be there. It did not make sense for a company of that stature, especially a criminal organization, to not have night guards. 

You and Sherlock had split up. You would take one office and he would get the other. 

As you scavenged through the office files, snapping photos of anything you thought would be useful, you heard a whistle. Someone was whistling a song. You heard keys jangle and the whistle getting closer and closer to the office you were in. In a hast, you closed the file cabinets and scoured the room for a hiding place. Your only option was underneath the desk. A cliche, but it was better than being caught red-handed. You darted across the room and fell under the desk. There was a rustling and then the door opened. The creaking of the hinges echoed in your mind as a bright flash of light swung across the room. 

You held your breath and forced every muscle in your body to be still. The guard stepped inside the room. The light grew brighter, and you closed your eyes. 

Then it was dark. The door shut and the guard moved down the hall. You held your breath a moment longer before releasing it. Carefully, you peered up behind the desk. You pulled out your phone to text Sherlock and warn him. Sherlock. 

You heard the guard stop at the door to the office Sherlock was searching through. Sherlock wasn’t as small as you and if the office was anything like the one you were in, Sherlock would have no place to hide. You shot up from behind the desk and ran to the door. You listened closely, for any sign that Sherlock had been found. 

“What the…” the guard muttered. 

You opened the office door and ran down the hallway towards Sherlock and the guard. You could see the guard looking through the room. It was a mess. Sherlock sure knew how to create a mess. You saw a head of curly dark hair standing behind a bookshelf, a few feet from the bright light of the flashlight. The guard grabbed the radio from his hip and raised it to his lips. His finger pressed down on the button. 

“Excuse me!” You spoke. 

The guard turned around. His flashlight blinded your eyes. He lowered the flashlight. 

“Who are you?” 

Your eyes darted from Sherlock to the guard. “Uh… I work here. I left something in my office. I was wondering if it’d be alright to get it. I know it’s late, but…”

The guard looked you up and down. “Work here, eh?” 

You gulped. “Yeah.” 

The guard placed the radio back on his hips and hovered his hand over his firearm. 

“Bosses didn’t tell me they had such a pretty thing working for them, thought they’d only hire men.” 

Your eyes widened. Sherlock shuffled from his hiding place and began to creep out of the office. The guard turned to look behind him, but you recalled his attention. 

“Right! I’m a… new hire. Started a few days ago. I work in the finance department.” You stated confidently. 

Sherlock froze and the guard’s face grew into a smile. “There is no finance department darling.” His hand latched onto the gun and pulled it out. Your eyes widened and you ran. Bang! A shot rang out and you crouched behind a desk. 

“Come out, pretty girl. Wanna have some fun with you.” The guard declared. 

The guard shot the gun again. Your eyes shut tight, and your body was stuck in place. “If you come out now, I’ll make sure to be extra nice when I kill you. Make it short and quick.” 

You felt a hand on your shoulder, and you opened your eyes. A hand covered your mouth stifling the gasp. It was Sherlock. He brought a finger to his lips signalling you to be quiet. He peered up behind you. 

“This way,” Sherlock whispered to you. 

Bang! “I’ll give you to the count of three,” The guard said. His footsteps grew closer and closer to the desk Sherlock, and you were behind. 

“One,” the guard muttered. 

You followed Sherlock crawling across the floor. He turned into a hallway and stood up. You followed suit. 

“Two.” 

You shuddered and Sherlock grabbed your hand. He pulled you along. You two were a few paces faster than a walk. You knew that if you ran, your steps would echo off the walls, and you’d end up with a bullet or two. 

“Three!” The guard exclaimed. 

You and Sherlock had reached a corner. He pulled you to a stop and looked around the corner. There was the door. Your escape. Now you two had to reach it. 

“Got you!” The guard yelled. 

You jumped at his voice. Sherlock shushed you again as the two of you began to creep towards the door. 

The man let out a laugh. “Naught girl. Now I have to be mean.” There was a click and a static noise. “I’ve got an intruder.” 

Then came thundering footsteps. The guard was coming down the hallway. In a moment he would turn and see you and Sherlock. Your breath became frantic. 

Sherlock heard the steps and the two of you began to run. You reached the door and pushed it open just before the guard turned the corner. He fired another shot. The glass of the door shattered. Sherlock grabbed your hand. 

“Run!” He yelled. 

The two of you ran out of the building and down the street. Adrenaline was pumped through your veins like oxygen urging your legs to carry you a bit farther. You didn’t stop running until you got back to Baker Street. 

_______

“Why did you do that?” Sherlock asked. His voice filled with fury. “He wouldn’t have found me.” 

“You don’t know that Sherlock.” 

“I very well do know it” Sherlock replied. “What you did was reckless. He could have killed you.”

“It wasn’t reckless, Sherlock. I was protecting you.” 

“Why?!” Sherlock asked. He stepped towards you. His voice grew louder and more frantic. 

There was silence. All of London was asleep or at least they were. You were sure Sherlock could have woken up the whole street with the pitch of his voice. 

You bit your lip and looked to the side. Tears now filled your eyes. How could not see? You’d risk everything for him. 

“Look at me, Y/N,” Sherlock commanded. “Why would you do something so stupid just …” 

“Because I love you!” You exploded. Your eyes widened at your confession. If the street wasn’t awake before, it would be now. 

Sherlock’s mouth fell open. He stood straighter and his eyes bubbled with confusion. 

“Y/N” Sherlock whispered. The way he said your name made you feel like you could shatter into a thousand pieces. 

“I love you, Sherlock.” Your voice trembled. You had said it and now he knew. It was over the friendship was over. He would never be able to look at you again. You’d have to…

His soft lips were now on yours. Sherlock’s large hands cupped your face and held you close. His lips were uncertain as they moved against yours. He kissed you. He kissed you like he was on his last breath. Breathing you in like the drugs that wired his brain. You kissed him back. Your hands, one wrapped tightly in his hair, and the other on his chest. 

Finally, he pulled back. The two of you collecting your breaths. His forehead rested against yours, and his hands slid down from your cheeks to your neck. His cold finger felt your pulse. It’s pounding reminding him that you were alive. Both of you were. He held his hands there grounding himself to your heartbeat. 

You tried to pull away, but he pulled you back in. One of his hands now rested on your waisted. He hugged you close to his body. Your body was smothered by his warmth. 

“Promise me, you won’t ever do that again.” Sherlock pleaded. 

You nodded hugging him back. 

“I love you, too,” Sherlock muttered into your hair. He kissed your temple, lingering there. 

He held you. His friend. His partner in crime. His love. His world. He breathed in your scent. 

He’d give Mycroft the information tomorrow. He’d tell his brother the two of you were done with the case. But that was for tomorrow. Right now, Sherlock was determined to hold you close. To feel your body against his. Your lips on his. To feel your heartbeat that let him know you were alive. That this was real, and you were safe. 

______

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[kenjikishimotoswifey]

am i gonna start writing anytime soon? no. but are these insanely good? yes!!

List of “angry confession” prompts

“Since when did you ever care about me?!” “Since fucking forever, you idiotic dunce!” 

“I can’t leave you alone for one second without you hurting yourself, can I?” “I mean, I’m fine so it’s okay—” “No, it’s not okay. Not when I feel like I’m going to go batshit fucking crazy, thinking you’ve hurt yourself.“

“Well, I’m sorry I fell in love with you, okay? But it happened and I can’t do shit about it.” “You… What?” 

“You think I wanted this to happen? You think I, of all people, wanted to fall in love with you?” 

“Trust me, I’m also trying to understand how in the shit this happened.” 

“…This is why I knew I shouldn’t have gotten close to you.”

“I’m going to need you to stop for one second because I just find it so incredibly rude that you think I’m not head over heels in love with your stupid, oblivious ass. Are you a brick? Because you’re dense as fuck.”

“Tell me how I’m supposed to un-love you, then. Tell me. Spare me.” 

“Yeah, well, if I could, I’d lose feelings for you. But it’s not that easy. It’s not that easy to just let go of someone you’ve held onto for so fucking long.” 

“What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?” 

[natalievoncatte]

Every part of Lena Luthor’s soul was screaming at her do not do this.

Yet there Kara Danvers

(Kara Zor-El, last daughter of the house of El, LIAR.)

stood, bedraggled and tear-tracked, hunched in Lena’s doorway like a tiny kitten begging her for food. Lena wondered how she did it, how she made herself so small and unassuming, pathetic even. It was more than a change of clothes and hair and ripping off her glasses. She truly changed, somehow.

Changed to deceive. Changed to mock, changed to take without giving, to make Lena a fool.

(it was a cruel thought, a green thought, a Lex thought)

“I’ve told you already, Kara. I don’t want you here. You’re a liar, you and all your little friends mocked me to my face and kept secrets behind my back.”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“I don’t believe you.”

That relentless sad puppy look of hers softened even further.

“Why?”

God above how Lena hated her. Hated her for daring to ask. Fuck you, that’s why.

(nothing hurts more than a question that has no answer)

“I hate you, that’s why.”

Kara swallowed hard, wringing her hands. She was dressed in her pajamas and had probably flown here, then landed and asked to come up like a normal person. Didn’t she see that was the problem?

“I don’t believe you.”

Lena threw up her hands. “Oh fuck off with that, Kara. You lost your favorite toy, get over it. I’m done with you. I moved on, you should too.”

“You let me in. I’ve seen the real you. You’re not vindictive. You’re not cruel. You’re a kind-hearted, selfless, compassionate person.”

“And you didn’t,” Lena snapped, moving to close the door. “You deceived me in the most fundamental way. You made me believe you cared for me and believed in me and saw the good in me. No one sees the fucking good in me, no one. No one did but you… and it was all a trick to keep an eye on the Luthor.”

“No, no, I didn’t-“

“You didn’t? Then why did you get James to spy on me? Why’d you question my motives? Why’d you keep lying to me after I proved myself over and over and over again? Because I was never good enough. It was never real.”

Kara rubbed her arms. “Do you really think I brought you into my circle of friends and held you in when you were sad and brought you to Thanksgiving and let you sleep over in my home to keep an eye on you?”

There was a heavy pause.

“That’s fucking insane,” Kara snarled.

Taken aback, Lena flinched, half at the profanity and half at the anger in Kara’s voice.

“I admit it,” her voice broke suddenly, “I can’t deny it. I can’t just dismiss how you feel, I get that, but I didn’t keep my secret from you because you were some kind of a project, Lena. I kept my secret because keeping it let me keep you. It was selfishness, pure and simple. I wanted my one friend who didn’t see me as a superhero. I wanted… I wanted what I always want, things I cannot have.”

There was such agony in her voice that it cut through Lena’s growing fury like a blade sinking into clay, stuck fast, hot in her chest.

“I knew I’d lose you to it eventually. I didn’t do it for you. I did it for me.”

Lena blinked a few times, feeling her resolve start to shake.

(another manipulation. she will do anything, say anything to get back in your good graces)

(to do what, Lex? to what end?)

“Say what you came here to say.”

“I kind of did, but I have one more thing to ask.”

“Then ask it.”

Kara swallowed. “I want to pretend.”

Lena’s brow arched.

“Pretend what?”

“Just pretend it’s like it was. For one night. Just give me one more night and I promise you I will never bother you again. You’ll never see me or Supergirl for the rest of your life.”

“You’re on TV every day.”

“I meant in person.”

“And stop talking about yourself like you’re two different people.”

Kara sniffed.

“Okay,” she muttered.

Lena stood there for what felt like an eternity, screaming at herself not to do this.

(do it, it’ll make it hurt more)

(me or her?)

Lena stepped aside.

Kara entered. She brushed at her eyes, adjusted her glasses, and walked into Lena’s expansive, cold, dark penthouse.

As soon as she did, it was as if the light came back. It felt warm again, seeing her standing there. Having her here, in her cute little pajamas with her braid over one shoulder, those big eyes open and hopeful.

Lena closed the door.

“What do… what do you want me to do? Us to do?”

“We could watch a movie, maybe get Chinese delivered. Have you eaten? I doubt you’ve eaten.”

Lena hadn’t, actually. She hadn’t eaten today and had eaten only scraps yesterday and only because Jess insisted.

Kara touched Lena’s side, a soft brush of fingers over her ribs, and winced.

“You’re starving yourself,” she murmured. “Oh, Lena.”

“Kara-“

She already had her phone out and was ordering. Of course Kara had Lena’s place still saved in DoorDash.

Lena grabbed her hand to stop her.

“My treat.”

Lena fetched her own phone and put in a quick order- of course she had all of Kara’s favorites saved and of course she almost sent them to Kara’s address instead of her own.

“I ordered.”

Lena looked down at herself, wondering why the hell she was doing this. She was still dressed for the lab, so she retreated to her bedroom.

When she opened the closet her eyes immediately went to the maroon Midvale High School sweatshirt hanging at the far end of the rack, where it had been defying her for months. She should have burned the god damn thing but every time she reached for it, her hand pulled back of its own accord.

Not today. She let it fall over her, oversized for her frame and too long, and changed from slacks to leggings and pumps to bare feet, her toes curling from the cold hardwood floors.

Kara had already taken up position on the couch and had put on one of her beloved movies, one they’d already watched together ten times and Kara had probably already seen ten times more. The Princess Bride.

It was a cheap ploy and Lena knew it.

It gouged at her anyway, leaving something raw in her chest. It ripped open every place she’d forced to herself to scab over, broke every stitch. She killed the lights, halfway out of tradition and halfway to make sure Kara didn’t see her fighting back the tears.

Neither of them spoke. They sat on opposite ends of of the couch. When the food arrived, Kara got up to get it from the driver and her absence was keen, the void she left behind ripping at Lena.

When she sat down again right next to her, Lena let her. She shoved a box of take out into Lena’s lap and insisted she eat. They ate in silence.

Kara’s heart wasn’t in it. She are aimlessly rather than shoving her food in her mouth and gobbling it all down in minutes as she usually did. She was pretending, hard.

Lena barely paid any attention to the movie. The food, normally seasoned and spiced to the point where she couldn’t stand it and ate only to please Kara, was bland and tasteless in her mouth.

Kara, haltingly and hesitantly, put her head on Lena’s shoulder, and winced when Lena’s shoulders hitched. Why the fuck was she doing this to herself?

The worst part was that it didn’t hurt. It felt like home. Even now after all she had done and all that Kara had done and said, feeling Kara’s sadness in her soft weight beside her was ripping her apart, the mad anger and rage swept aside by a torrent of grief she couldn’t hold back.

If she was going to pretend she might as well pretend. She put her arm around Kara and leaned into her, nuzzling her nose into Kara’s soft hair, wondering if her alleged best friend ever noticed that Lena’s favorite thing in the entire stupid fucked up world was a Kara Danvers hug and nothing was more precious to her than these times when she almost kissed the crown of Kara’s head.

How she ached.

The movie ended and Netflix began making suggestions.

“Kara,” Lena murmured. “Let’s go to sleep.”

“If we go to sleep the night will be over,” her voice was small, trembling.”

“I know, darling. Just let it be what it is.”

Kara nodded.

Lena’s pulse was pounding as she headed for the bedroom, wondering how Kara had never picked up on how decidedly unplatonic it was to fall asleep in each other’s arms. Neither spoke as they climbed into Lena’s California King, a bed big enough to drown in, sinking beneath a goose down comforter, Kara’s body heat like old coals from a campfire.

For a moment they lay apart, and then slowly came together in their usual way, Kara forming herself into a protective cocoon to shield Lena from… from everything. Morgan Edge, her brother, alien shotgun weddings, random nuts with a gun and a grudge, everything but the greatest threat, her worst enemy.

“I have to go in the morning,” Kara whispered, “so I better say this now. You are not a monster, Lena. I never wanted to ‘keep an eye on you’ other than to protect you and keep you safe. No matter what you do, I will never, ever give up believing in you, but if you want me gone, that’s what I have to do. I love you so much it hurts me. I can’t stand being apart from you but if that’s what you need from me that’s what I’ll give. I would do anything for you. If moving on is what you want…”

Kara took a ragged breath.

“As you wish.”

Lena felt something crack inside her. An image filled her mind: Kara. Kara with graying hair, walking away, walking off into the sunset like the hero she was, and with someone else… with a child between them, a future, a home…

“God damn you, Kara Danvers!” Lena snapped, shocked at the sound of her own voice. “God damn you for making me feel this way! Do you have any idea what you did to me? I can’t just turn it off, I can’t stop feeling.”

“This was a terrible idea,” Kara sighed. “I should have known better. I’m just hurting you more.”

Kara began pulling away.

Lena threw out her arms, locked her hands behind the neck of the most powerful being on the entire planet, and yanked. Hard.

Their lips came together in a crash. The force was all Lena’s, as Kara’s inhuman might yielded to her control. There were no words. Kara hesitated for a shocked moment before she kissed Lena back, looping her arms around Lena’s waist.

This was no stolen glance, no innuendo, no coy hint. When Lena kissed Kara she made as if to devour her, and was mounting her before she realized she was doing it. Kara yielded, she always yielded even when Lena pinned her wrists to the mattress and clamped her legs around Kara’s hips and ground on her like a horny teenager.

She kept expecting Kara to sputter, to push back… to be fucking straight, to be brutally honest about her intentions, but there was nothing straight in the way Kara shifted to grind against her, or the way she twisted her hands free and slid them under the soft Midvale High Sweatshirt and skimmed them over the bare skin of Lena’s back. There was no mistaking the intent of her kisses or the feral sound she made when the shedding of clothing began.

Lena must have shocked her at first, because when Kara recovered, she became a force of nature. Lena was quickly on her back and let out an excited yelp when Kara simply tore her leggings apart and bared her with a feral grin on her face before shedding her top with the same desperate energy.

When they came together, really came together, Lena was nearly overwhelmed. Kara was insatiable, relentless. Hokey cliches like “force of nature” were woefully inadequate.

She never ran out of stamina and she was gentle when needed and forceful when Lena wanted it, every stoke and motion and caress somehow perfect, and she sensed without needing to be told when Lena was ready to give rather than receive and yielded without a word.

They barely even had to talk, and when Lena was finally exhausted, Kara was there with kind touches and soft words and cared for her like the most precious thing in the world.

Lena fell asleep, deeply and soundly, and when she woke up with the sun on her skin and an empty bed she wondered if it was all an elaborate dream until she heard Kara humming halfway across the penthouse, grabbed the sweatshirt, and padded barefoot from the bedroom.

Kara was at the stove cooking breakfast and holding a spatula like a microphone, singing… a fucking Britney Spears song.

“I thought you were going to leave in the morning,” Lena sighed.

Kara froze.

“I’m glad you didn’t. I’d have to come get you.”

Kara turned to her with a billion watt smile.

“I was lying about leaving you alone.”

Lena walked over, arms around her waist, hugging herself. She cupped Lena’s chin with a hooked finger and the casual intimacy of it made Lena’s heart swell.

“I love you so much. I can’t breathe without you,” Kara whispered.

Lena took Kara’s wrist and guided her hand to cup her cheek, nuzzling against the soft skin of Kara’s palm.

“Stay?”

Kara nodded.

[swetearss]

lately challengers fics are all porn with a little of plot or they directly have no plot (which i'm not saying is bad, i've read some very good ones), but i'd like to see more sweet and cheesy fics that leave me giggling and kicking my feet or some angsty ones

[hearts4werka]

NNN day 15 | Unspoken Words

“A pathetic what? Loser? Nerd? All bullshit labels you and your friends love throwing around?”

summary: it’s pouring rain outside and you’re in a heated argument with the so-called ‘loser skater boy’ of the school, Chris about your popular friend group constantly picking on him but you don’t know what you could possibly do about it, in the heat of the moment you accidentally confess your love for him that you’ve been bottling inside of you for ages now, how will Chris react to the sudden confession?

warnings: ANGST, heavy language, pouring rain, arguing, angry love confession, kissing, mentions of bullying & possibly more!

authors note: bro this is coming out so late I’m so sorry I seriously am having trouble keeping up with posting fics everyday I might just change the schedule for every two days so I have time to write the fic so from now on I’ll post NNN fics every two days and I’ll try to make them better too, luv y’all sm and hope y’all enjoy this one

The rain was relentless, pouring down in heavy falls as I stood at the edge of the high school parking lot, glaring at him. Chris, the loser skater dude sat leaned against the slick metal of his beat-up board as water streamed down from his dark hair. It was a pathetic sight, really, the way he was looking at me through the downpour like he truly believed I’d stand there and listen to him whine while my friends were making his life miserable just a few feet away. “Chris, it’s not my fault they’re dicks! Just stand up for yourself!” I yelled, the wind whipping my words back into my face. I could see him flinch at the sharpness in my tone, but honestly? He was pissing me the fuck off right now.

“Easy for you to say,” he spat back, his voice rising above the rain. “You think I want to get into it with them? They’ve made my life hell since middle school. And here you are, acting like you’re above it all.” “Whatever, Chris! You could actually do something about it, but instead, you stand there like a pathetic—” before I could finish my sentence, he cut right into the middle of it. “A pathetic what? Loser? Nerd? All bullshit labels you and your friends love throwing around?” My heart raced as the fight quickly escalated, frustration spilling out of me like the rain pouring down but hee wasn’t wrong, I could feel my friends laughing as they made comments, snickering at his expense as they walked past us.

I was too stubborn to admit that it bothered me, to admit that I felt trapped between two worlds — my friends who I felt loyal to, and Chris, whose passion for skating and the freedom he radiated off him drew me in. “Why don’t you just tell them to stop?” I snapped, fists clenched at my sides. “Oh, right!” he emphasized each word through gritted teeth, “Because you know they’d listen to me. ‘Oh, look at the loser! What a joke!’” He was pacing now, waves of frustration beaming from him as he glared at me. I could tell he was hurt and that made it worse for me. This wasn’t the first time we’d had this conversation, it seemed every time we met, our discussions turned into a bickering fight.

“Why can’t you just grow a backbone for once?” I found myself shouting, the words leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. Chris was the one person I didn’t want to keep fighting with. There was something inside me that pricked me at the thought of him being hurt—something that made me want to shield him from the world, even if I was part of the problem. “I get it, you’re popular, you have to keep up your perfect appearance.” His voice was cold and I hated that I could see right through it. “But that doesn’t mean you need to stand by while they bully someone who hasn’t done anything to you.”

The weight of his words hung between us, and for a moment, we both bathed in the silence, thunder rumbling in the background and threatening to strike. My breaths came ragged, and I could feel the frustration boiling over, a fierce mix of feelings I’d contained far too long. “Do you even care about them?” I shot back, suddenly feeling more bold, “I mean, seriously, do you care that I’m their friend? Or is it just about you being the victim here?” “Maybe if you gave them less attention, they’d stop. Ever think about that?” he shot back with a knife that cut deeper than any of my friends’ insults.

I took a step closer as rain soaked through my clothes, breath hitching as the heat between us crackled. “You think I’m just some heartless bitch, don’t you? You think I enjoy having these petty losers as friends? You know nothing about me,” I spat. He stepped forward, our faces inches apart as the storm raged around us. “So what’s stopping you from saying something? You’re the one with the power in this situation, right?” And just like that, the last strings broke inside me. I wanted to scream, I wanted to shake him and make him understand. “You don’t get it at all, Chris! Maybe I don’t always know what the fuck to do! Maybe—” My voice trembled and before I could think about the honesty I’m about to spill, I continued, “Maybe I just didn’t know how to tell you I liked you!”

His eyes widened, surprise sparkling in them and my heart tripped over itself at my confession. My cheeks burned and beneath the rain, I could feel the silence swallow us whole. The storm around us was like background noise as everything I pooled inside of me far too long, unraveling and honest. My breath caught as he closed the distance, moving so smoothly it caught me off guard. “What are you do—” Before I could finish, he tilted my chin up and pressed his lips to mine. The kiss was sudden as if he was attempting to drown out all the noise in my head, all the rambling I would never stop. It felt electric, warmth pulsing through my veins that made the rain fade into nothing.

When he finally pulled away, my pulse immediately started to race. I blinked up at him, confusion swirling inside of me. “Wait… Did you just really kiss me to shut me up?” He smirked, a shimmer of playfulness in his blue eyes. “Maybe,” he replied and I couldn’t help but laugh, the tension slowly dissolving into something lighter, something filled with hope. “So, popular girl, what now?” I hesitated but with a new fire building inside of me I grinned and said, “We show those little bastard who not to mess with.” And as the rain poured and drenching us both, I realized that maybe, just maybe, we’d figure it out together.

@hearts4werka |

𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 🏷️ | - @sturnsxplr-25 - @strnzzvsp - @luvvs4chriss - @sturniolosweetheart33 - @pussypie456 - @venusxsturnio - @bagsbyclair0 - @sturnstvs - @dykes4chris - @hoe4matt - @cayleeuhithinknott - @strnilolover - @marrykisskilled - @phone4pills - @emely9274 - @cupiidk1lls - @lily-strnlo - @nicksgirlfriend - @sturniolosiphone - @sophand4n4 - @zombiesturniolo - |

[taxidermycanine]

y'all ever have days where every little thing goes wrong and everybody just pisses you off so you're constantly in a state of

[ihatethebrits]

hawkmetri shippers rn

[seagreenstardust]

This is the narration over Izuku finally having it spelled out for him that Himiko wants to date him and if this is Katsuki narrating over the very first time Izuku receives a confession I am going to lose my mind

[angy-grrr]

spoilers for chapter 429

idk if you guys remember but ochako does have parallels with All Might, specifically as the side who saves. It’s not that he feels the same for them both or something like that, they serve to represent the type of heroism he naturally goes to; his friend is not his love interest, from his perspective she’s out there having a crisis over not being able to save her, and Izuku reminds her that she is a hero bc she is his hero -she saved him multiple times, and she should be able to feel like a proper hero.

This conversation is not about the nature of their relationship, is about heroism; Izuku relates to a conflict between being a hero who saves and failing to save someone, and doesn’t want to see Ochako ending spiraling because she couldn’t also fulfill that role as expected. She’s his hero not because he loves her romantically -he’s a nerd I’m sure he would be way more nervous and blushing if he was confessing anything he thought was romantic- but because she’s able to go and do what All Might does to Izuku, save him physically and emotionally.

He knows she hides her feelings in order to not be a burden, yet he doesn’t talk about his own feelings outside of his guilt in heroics -what does he feel about losing OFA? About his own failures? About the people he personally lost? He can’t talk for others and claim Ochako is everyone’s hero, but he can speak for himself, and that’s his personal perspective -she is a hero to him, she’s his hero. And then the class appears to make sure she’s able to get support and understand she’s not alone, and she’s important to them too.

but Izuku doesn’t get support. Izuku cries a little and talks a little about himself, but he doesn’t get supported. If this was meant to be romantic, I don’t understand why he would hold back what’s inside of him.

the end of the chapter reveals that boy is going to be helped by that woman who regretfully ignored Tenko, and they both witness it and are happy about it while hearing izuku inspired that change, and iida wonders what’s up with them -this is the conclusion to their relationship. In their hearts these two are saviors who struggle to be heroes who save others, and they are happy there are appearing more people who want to be heroes like them. Heroes who save. Save like All Might.

That grandma for example, interpreting the narrative as what I think is intended, would be that boy’s All Might; she’s his hero.

Izuku and Ochako are heroes who save, and Deku is here to remind her at least she did save him many times, that she is still a hero because she is his hero. I don’t believe is meant to be interpreted as romantic, not that Izuku sees that phrase as it neither -after all, he said he does want to be like All Might and feels good to imitate him, but he doesn’t love him.

Ochako’s All Might hair moment, the parallels with Toshinori telling him he can be a hero, the trying to save from black suffocating quirks, the we can do it and do your best…

Do I need to remind you heroes arent a romantic thing for Izuku Midoriya?

[cissyenthusiast010155]

hey!! i was wondering if you could write a oneshot of larissa or melissa (whatever you think is best) where badicslly r and them literally despise eachother bc they got started off on the wrong foot and every interaction between them has just gone south, but r and larissa or mel find eachother extremely attractive, and then basically someone in the school told them that r is actually in love with them. and basically after that they get into another heated argument and they pull out the “it’s not my fault you’re in love with me” or something along those lines and r denies it ofc and then after that they like kiss n maybe some angry smut if you’re alright with that.

so sorry if this is too specific or you just don’t wanna write it lmfao 😭 TYSM!!

- 🪼

It Ain’t My Fault ~Dom!Melissa Schemmenti xFem Sub!Reader

Summary— Enemies to Lovers AU, where Melissa and Reader have never gotten along. The tension between them finally snaps… What will happen…? Anon Response— Thank you for the detailed request, anon!! I hope this finds you well. I had fun writing this little smut piece for you. Hope you Enjoy! ♥️

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!, smut, fingering, eating out, semi-public sex, enemies to lovers, fighting, love confessions, screaming/yelling, dominance, light dom/sub implications, implied future smut, etc.

Enjoy (;

“Well It’s not my fault you’re in love with me—!!” Melissa shrieked.

Her classroom suddenly felt too hot and far too cramped, even though it was only the two of you. Your breath hitched and you stepped back slightly.

The two of you had been known to get into yelling matches, and the staff was quick to banish the two of you from the lounge if you felt like going at it. You didn’t even remember what this fight was originally about. You just didn’t get along. Never had. Ever since you had arrived at Abbott, Melissa always undermined you. It drove you insane, how she got under your skin. For Melissa, she could stand you either. You were just so annoying. So young and naive, so quick to disregard and disrespect authority. Neither of you would ever want to admit that you found the other attractive.

“Excuse me…??” You finally spat, coming back to reality from the brief stun.

“You heard me…!” She cocked, placing her hands on her hips and swiveling her head tauntingly.

“I am not in love with you—!” You exclaimed defensively, crossing your arms.

Melissa grinned wickedly and sauntered up towards you. You instinctually began to back up until the back of your legs hit the edge of her desk. Your breath hitched again as the older woman now stood right in front of you.

“Barb says otherwise, and Barb is always right.” She purred condescendingly, tilted her head slightly and staring you down.

Your eyes widened and you gulped. You uncross your arms and lean back a little on the desk, trying to get away from her intense presence.

“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about…” you stammer.

“Fine, then prove it.” She quips, cocking her brow at you.

A challenge is something you can do.

“Ok, try me.” You immediately shoot back.

Melissa smirks and steps just a bit closer, so that her body is almost flush against you but not quite yet.

“Kiss me.”

You nearly choke on your own air, as your face flushes a deep red.

“I… sorry what..??” You choke out.

“Kiss me.” Melissa repeats as if it’s nothing, with a shrug, “Just once.”

“And what’s that going to prove…??” You defensively shot.

She raised her brow.

“You chicken?”

You immediately growled at her words. If there was anything you hated, it was being called incompetent and a coward. And Melissa loved to taunt you with both.

“Shut up.” You growled, before grabbing the back of her neck with one hand and smashing your lips together.

Melissa immediately groaned into the kiss. You really thought that you’d be able to prove your lack of love with this, but you were so wrong. The second you felt her lips, you were hooked. The kiss went from a peck to a sloppy mess in a matter of seconds, and neither one of you minded. You let out a breathy moan as her tongue slid into your mouth.

Her hands snaked around your sides, effectively pinning you to her desk. Yours held the back of her neck, as the other slid to her ass, pulling her flush against you while graciously squeezing her rear. This action made Melissa groan into the kiss once more, which only sent increasing sparks of arousal throughout your body.

After a minute, you both had to pull away, breathless. But the woman still kept you pinned to the edge of the desk by your hips. Her hold on you was bruising and dizzying, as you desperately tried to catch your breath. Melissa looked quite pleased with herself for having kissed you breathless.

When you finally met her eye, you knew she had won. The dark flicker of lustful dominance was something you couldn’t help but fold to. You allowed the woman the hoist you up on the edge of her desk, you allowed her mouth to wander along your exposed skin. You allowed her to take your tits and cunt out, to call you deliciously derogatory names as she sucked and bit at your nipples. You allowed her to shove her fingers into your mouth as a way to keep you quiet as she sucked on your pearl and explored your juicy folds. You allowed her to completely take control. And in return, she allowed you to cum.

~~~

Melissa Schemmenti Masterlist

[froschli96]

You know what, fuck it, I have to speak my truth! (this is gonna be a rant, so anyone who actually likes assassin's creed revelations and/or the secret crusade, be warned or maybe don't read this at all)

remember how altaïr talks to king richard at the end of ac1, and richard is like "[humans] come into the world kicking and screaming, violent and unstable. it is what we are. we cannot help ourselves."? and how altaïr answers "no. we are what we choose to be." and how that ACTUALLY has meaning bc he himself was "violent and unstable" at the beginning of the game but he has learned and is now CHOOSING to be a better person who cares about others and humanity at large? remember how his calmness and gentleness was something that he ACQUIRED over the course of the story?

and remember how in revelations they then suddenly had a PRE-AC1 altaïr say about the first of his targets "no man should pass from this world without knowing some kindness." and be all wise and calm and collected during a nice little chat with al mualim, who suddenly acts all fatherly? (like, this is suddenly supposed to be a positive relationship? what??)

also, during the confession the target says to altair: "you put too much faith in the hearts of men, altaïr. [...] humans are weak, base, and petty." and altaïr answers: "no. our creed is evidence to the contrary." KJASJFJDKL???? like, it’s almost insulting how close this exchange is to the one with richard. you know, the one that was actually earned after a whole game of character development. like WTF??? cool congrats now that development means nothing. like, apparently that was just altaïr reverting BACK to being the exemplary assassin who understands and believes in the creed that he was apparently just born as. (i also hate how having a young inexperienced altaïr saying this implies that altaïr's faith in humanity is a sign of naivete instead of a sign of the wisdom he has gained after being confronted with counter arguments for a whole game, and also something that distinguishes the assassins from the templars who use humanity's supposed wickedness to justify controlling them like in AC1, but whatever)

altaïr’s development in AC1 mattered BECAUSE he is not NATURALLY a good person, it actually said something about humanity's capacity for both bad AND good and how humans don't have to be forced to be good through mind control bc they can by their own free will choose to be better when taught how and when allowed the freedom to grow. but no. apparently altaïr has just always been calm, wise and gentle. and he just sort of forgot about that during AC1 bc…. ? bc of adha?? bc of abbas???

oh don’t get me started on the whole abbas thing. (it doesnt even make sense that abbas is so hung up about his father and "his family’s honor", like what about the whole point of al mualim not allowing parents to be close to their children bc it would make them weak? like, my dude, you’re not supposed to HAVE any family aside from the brotherhood)

they used the throwaway character that had like 5 lines and made him into altaïr’s main antagonist in revelations… like, abbas wasn’t supposed to be this ONE dude who had personal beef with altaïr, he was just supposed to show how while altaïr’s revered by many, a lot of his brothers also hate him, bc 1) altaïr is a shitty person at this point and 2) bc there’s no real feeling of community and family in this version of the brotherhood, but just a pervasive sense of competition and jealousy — these assassins don’t care about their goal of safeguarding humanity bc they’re too hung up on petty squabbles and divided by rivalries (you know, the things that made malik hate altaïr even before solomon’s temple and that he overcomes in the end which enables him to forgive and to reconcile with altaïr so they can work together and stop al mualim? (you ever just think about "we are one. as we share the glory of our victories, so too should we share the pain of our defeat. in this way we grow closer. we grow stronger." and cry? bc i do. all the time. malik, the man that you are))

and now abbas is altaïr’s childhood best friend turned lifelong enemy?? like, bowden bent over backwards to come up with an explanation for why altaïr is an arrogant ass at the beginning of AC1, when the explanation is right there: he was raised to kill without asking questions and was constantly praised for how good he is at murder, which resulted in him becoming arrogant and disregarding human life. like, it doesn’t have to be some shakespearean family feud type shit. and guess what, this "simple" explanation actually plays into the story’s themes, who’da thunk!

(like, abbas might not have been a "fleshed out" character in AC1, but he had a specific function and now that function is gone. mr bowden, mr mcdevitt, you know characters are allowed to simply exist to tell us something about their worlds and the systems they live in and sometimes that’s more important and also more interesting than having every single character have a detailed backstory to explain all their behaviors, right?)

with all of this revelations loses all nuance in regards to the levantine brotherhood and also the creed in general. like, altaïr being a master assassin at the beginning despite being a terrible person and not actually understanding the creed is a criticism of the brotherhood and the creed itself. like, it said something about the order that someone like altaïr was able to get that high in rank, simply bc he's good at killing, which also tells us what is considered important in the al mualim era assassin order. when you make altaïr’s arrogance the result of his personal conflicts instead of how we was raised by a brotherhood that only valued one's ability to kill, you lose that characterization of the assassin order itself!

and by suddenly making al mualim a semi good "father figure" you also downplay his manipulation of not only altaïr but all those under his care. (altaïr says something about al mualim being "as a father" to him exactly twice in the codex, but he doesn’t mean by that that he WAS a father to him, what he means is that he was the CLOSEST THING he had bc HE DID NOT HAVE PARENTS, not because his mother died in childbirth and his father was executed when he was young btw, BUT BECAUSE IT WASN’T ALLOWED, like his parents actually lived but weren’t allowed to be close to him, he says he came to view al mualim’s "weak and dishonest" love as enough and even better BECAUSE HE HAD NOTHING ELSE, BECAUSE AL MUALIM ISOLATED HIS ASSASSINS FROM THEIR FAMILIES. al mualim "loved" him bc he was good at killing people for him! hm, i wonder if this could be trying to say anything about cults and indoctrination and the inherent contradiction in fighting for peace and free will by taking children away from their parents and raising them to become killers?? like, altaïr wasn't ~the special orphan boy~ taken in by al mualim bc his father died a hero's death, it was "the way of the order" to have al mualim be the closest thing to a parental figure for everyone to ensure absolute loyalty! altaïr saying al mualim was like his father is not supposed to make you go "oh, he must have actually been a good guy for altaïr to consider him a father", it should make you go "oh that's kinda fucked up that he considers the dude who made him into a killing machine and who manipulated him a sort of father figure"!)

and then in revelations they suddenly portray that relationship as positive and healthy??? like, it would be one thing to give it some nuance by delving into the psychology behind al mualim’s "love" and maybe showing how al mualim did care about altair in a complicated, fraught sort of way (like, you know, there’s a lot of interesting things you could say about al mualim at several points addressing altaïr as "my child" in AC1 and how that parallels Garnier referring to the people he drugged and abused as his "children", and what that says about how the templars view the people who they say they want to save and in whose best interests they supposedly act (in any case, al mualim doesn’t use that phrase because he has any real parental feelings but rather to patronize and to invalidate any objections, like in a "mother knows best" way))

but they even fucking DARE to parallel that relationship with that of altaïr and darim in revelations, by having the reflection in the puddle of darim hugging altaïr showing altaïr hugging al mualim…. like their relationship wasn’t inherently abusive but just tragically cut short because al mualim was just "corrupted by the apple"… like WHAT???? so it’s not the very real problems like grooming, manipulation and indoctrination and the hierarchical structure of the brotherhood itself (all of which are antithetical to the assassin ideology), it was just the evil apple all along. great. that’s DEFINITELY a lot more interesting.

god im sorry i really dont want to spread negativity but this is driving me INSANE. like, somebody please tell me im not crazy bc i feel like somehow most of the fandom is in agreement that revelations and the secret crusade have better storytelling and characterization than ac1.

SPEAKING OF WHICH, can we talk about how, even IF we completely ignore AC1 and treat revelations altaïr as his own character…. the narrative still doesn’t really work?

basically, the whole point of his story in rev is that "he gave his whole life to the brotherhood", this obsession led to him not using his time with his family which has him ending up dying alone in a dark library and this in turn makes ezio reevaluate his life choices…. except. he doesn’t? neglect? his family? or whatever? like, his devotion to the assassins is sort of painted as this tragic flaw that leads to a lonely death bc it supposedly comes at the cost of his family, but… his wife has joined the assassins, (at least) one of his sons is in the brotherhood and even when he goes to protect the assassins against the mongols, he takes his family with him (except for the son who stays behind bc he has a family of his own and who, ironically, ends up dying bc of that)… like, you can’t describe altaïr as a good husband and father in the database and have his son tell him that "everything that is good in me began with you, father" when they say goodbye, and then want to make us believe that he put his family behind the brotherhood and that that is a character flaw that leads to his tragedy.

because you HAVE to have a character’s tragedy be the result of a character flaw. like. that is how tragedies work. otherwise it just becomes tragedy for the sake of tragedy which is… boring bc it has no purpose. and we know it is SUPPOSED to have purpose bc ezIO FUCKING QUITS BEING AN ASSASSIN AFTER WITNESSING IT!

it’s like they want to have their cake and eat it, too — they didn’t want to actually make altaïr a bad husband/father, but still wanted to make his life a tragedy where he loses his family which is why instead they outsource all responsibility to abbas who now has to be the reason for ALL the deaths.

like, they try to make at least maria’s death kind of sort of the result of altaïr’s rashness or whatever but like… these guys KILLED THEIR SON and TOLD HIM THAT ALTAÏR HAD ORDERED HIS DEATH. like, altaïr losing it in response to that is not rash, it’s fucking logical and justified! if anything the scene made me angry at maria for trying to stop him. like, GIRL, he was YOUR son too??? but god forbid we give female characters actual real emotions, she has to fill the role of "voice of reason who dies for altaïr’s man pain" i fucking guess.

like, it’s this weird mix where his tragedy is simultaneously painted as his own fault but also not really bc abbas is the one responsible for all the shit that happens. it just… it just doesn’t really go together.

the only way to make his story make sense narratively and to give it actual purpose is by looking at it in the context of ezio’s story, bc the things he sees in altaïr’s memories are supposed to be a revelation (ha!) to ezio specifically. and i guess that’s maybe the crux of it all — altaïr’s story in revelations was conceived of first and foremost to support ezio’s story and development. which is probably also why many people maybe don’t notice bc, having skipped ac1 and started with ac2, the majority of people mostly care only about ezio and only really appreciate altaïr’s story in as far as it serves to push ezio forward. (tho i’ve also seen a few people say that ezio is also written kind of weird in rev, but i’ve never really been an ezio girly myself so i can’t speak to the truth of that)

like, altaïr dying alone in the library doesn’t really have to make sense for his character, i guess, bc it’s only really supposed to be a cautionary tale for ezio.

so, i guess, for once, they actually had a MAN dying for another man’s character development, which is pretty woke actually. ubisoft, i take everything back jksdsfjhgdsahfhsdhfghfdsgjhsdgjh

[terranceholdsapencil]

I sometimes think its weird that everyone must have a 'favourite doctor'. I get the appeal, but how its so wide spread baffles me.

Theyre all one person, in the end, with each regeneration being all that came before and more, and a little different due to the experiences they had and the people theyve met, just how I am different from when I was 15 years old, but still the same.

I have a favourite doctor for conveniency reasons, mostly, 12- but even then, whats a 'favourite doctor'. My favourite performance? My favourite to have a fun time with? My favourite to make me aspire to be better? My favourite to laugh, my favourite to cry for? Theyre all different. I love 12 as much as I love 1 or 2 or 3 or 4. Maybe I have incarnations I dont feel as strongly for, but thats usually out of unfamiliarity with all they went through and by such an inability to truly grasp who the doctor was when they wore that face (e.g. my only experience with 8 being the tv movie) or because they amplify parts of the doctor Im less fond of (e.g. six being a little mean).

But in the end, theyre all of it anyway? All of the Doctor is mean, whether its the first doctor or the sixth or the tenth, all doctors are kind, whether its the second or fourth or 12th or 14th, all of the doctor has experienced grief, all of them is strong willed, brave, afraid.

I like the idea of having a 'favourite'. To me its a little like your favourite actors role, I love david tennants hamlet more than I like his alec hardy, but I still love his acting, period.

But this obsession of needing a favourite doctor, of needing to love one part of this beautiful, incredible character more than others, often it feels unfair to who they are. This grand person being reduced to a few years of their endlessly long life. To a single face.

Maybe that's what feels so real about thoschei. Companions tend to get attached to a face. To this one part. To the master the current doctor's body is secondary.

"Doesn't matter which face he was wearing, they're all the Doctor to me."

And they are, in fact, all the Doctor.

[amj2277]

don’t know why but my ideal Buddie love confession is always them accidentally blurting it out while yelling at eachother

like i just need them to be mad at each other (because they care) and either of them (more likely Eddie) yelling “because i love you, asshole!!” or something like that

i feel it’s very chaotic and just in character for them

can’t think of a better scenario for the love confession to happen

[natalievoncatte]

It wasn’t Kara that destroyed her.

In her secret heart, Lena craved that. She wanted Kara to give back everything Lena had thrown at her. Defeat her. Crush her. Cast her down and treat her like a villain. After all, why had Kara lied? Conspired? Tricked her and manipulated her? Why do all that if she wasn’t a villain?

In her quietest moments with Myriad in her hands or staring at the twisted visage of an alien murderer, a quiet voice from deep within her whispered the truth she could never let herself feel:

This is what you are. It’s in the blood.

If Kara would just treat her like a villain, it would all make sense. There would be no more nagging doubts, no more questions, no more hateful longing. Lena has done everything she could to carve it out of her chest, but it gave her no relief, only the raw throbbing pain of a ragged wound that wouldn’t close.

Then she had been at L-Corp when Jess ran into her office in a blind panic, shouting that she had to turn the television on now, that something terrible had happened.

Lena stared at her dumbly because she already knew. She could feel it somehow, a wash of graveyard chill that enveloped her from nowhere and froze the rotten lump where her heart had been. Her hand shook as she lifted the remote and turned on the screen.

The news chyron stuck her like a hammer blow to the chest and her pathetic excuse for a last meal -a cold half of a Big Belly burger she’d eaten the night before- leapt into her throat, trying to escape.

Supergirl Dead?

They hadn’t called her, and why would they? Why seek her help after all she’d done?

Lena pushed to her feet, almost tumbling to the floor in the process. The news was repeating a ten-second clip, showing a red-white beam slicing through the midday air, so bright that it distorted the image as it struck a tiny blue and red blur and knocked her out of the sky as if a giant hand had swatted her to the ground.

She was moving before she realized she’d taken a step.

“Cancel all my meetings,” Lena snapped.

“But the Japanese investors,” Jess said, lamely.

“Fuck the Japanese investors, cancel all my meetings!”

She pushed past Jess and stormed to her private elevator, twisting the key so hard it nearly snapped. She paced the full two minutes it took to to descend to the garage. There would be no summoning a driver. She ran barefoot across the parking garage floor to the Bugatti and threw herself inside.

When she arrived at the DEO, there was chaos. It took a moment before anyone noticed a barefoot, red-eyed Lena Luthor running into the lobby in a blind panic. When they did notice, she was immediately tackled by two of their goons and handcuffs slammed on her wrists.

“What the hell are you doing?” she demanded. “I’m here to help!”

“Shut up,” the agent growled.

They sent jolts of pain up her arms as they took her in. She thought they were going to take the handcuffs off, but instead they cuffed one hand to a chain locked to a ring in the middle of a concrete table in an interrogation room.

“What the hell?” Lena screamed. “I’m here to help her!”

The door slammed heavily shit and Lena raged, yanking at the handcuffs in a futile gesture that only left her wrist raw. She thought about trying to pick them, but at this rate they might shoot her if she looked to escape. Her stomach sank and she began to spiral.

She’s dead. She’s dead and they’re going to blame me.

Hot tears burned in her eyes and she willed them not to fall, holding them back with all her might, but it was inevitable.

Finally, after what felt like half a day, Alex walked in. Lena knew at once that something terrible had happened. Kara’s sister looked like hell, with dark circles under her eyes and a pained look. She regarded Lena as if she were some ugly thing that crawled out of a crack in the foundations.

“What are you doing here?” said Alex.

“I told your thugs, I’m here to help. You’re wasting time, I need to see her now.”

“Why,” Alex said, “why on God’s green earth would I let you anywhere near her?”

Lena blinked. “At least tell me what’s wrong. I might be able to…”

“You locked her in a kryptonite cage. You talked her into breaching her morals to carry out your sick schemes. You aimed a kryptonite cannon at her face.”

“I…”

“You what? You didn’t mean it?”

“Alex,” Lena began.

“Shut up. You had me fooled, Luthor. Kara always believed in you. I didn’t. I tried to convince her to be as afraid of her as I was. I just want to know, why now? She left you alone like you wanted. You’ve been quiet. Kara insisted we give you a chance and let you be, a choice I now deeply regret. So why now? What did she do to deserve this?”

The cold fury radiating from Alex choked Lena up for a moment. Her mouth worked silently.

“You think I did this?”

“Why not? You’ve hurt her twice already.”

“I didn’t. I would never. I didn’t want her to die. I just wanted to…”

“To what?”

Lena swallowed hard, speaking before thinking.

“I wanted her to feel what I was feeling.”

Alex’s eyes narrowed and her expression went dark and hard, something vicious twisting her lips. Her hand twitched towards the bulky alien gun on her hip.

With her other hand, she pulled out a phone and turned it to Lena.

Lena’s stomach flipped when she saw Lex’s grinning face.

“I hope you enjoy your new present,” he said into the camera. “A Kryptonite particle beam enhanced with a high-powered laser tuned to a wavelength that will instantly negate her powers.”

Lex’s grin widened.

“Lena sends her regards.”

Lena blinked a few times. She wanted to thrash, yank her chain, accuse, scream.

“That’s impossible.”

“Why, because you wouldn’t?”

“I killed him,” Lena breathed.

“What?”

“Lex. Lex is dead. I killed him. I killed him!” she was almost hysterical. “I put two shots in his chest and one in his head like he taught me himself. After he escaped last time I killed him.”

Alex’s expression faltered.

“You think I’ll believe that?” she said, but sounded unsure.

“When I was twelve and Lex was away at school, Lillian got drunk and threatened me. I was scared to death she meant it. Lex gave me our father’s gun and taught me to shoot.” A brief, weak smile cursed her lips. “I didn’t realize until a lot later how fucked up that is, but it’s one of my favorite memories of him.”

“You’re telling me you killed him,” said Alex. “After you went behind our backs and used the Hardin-El to heal his ‘cancer.’”

“He was my brother.”

“And you say you killed him.”

Lena looked down, away from her. Tears fell on the table with a soft patter and she choked back a hitching sob.

“She became his new fixation. He was never going to stop. I did what I had to do.”

Alex went silent. Her hand hung by her hip and part of Lena hoped she’d make it fast, the same part that flinched when Alex moved.

The key twisted in the lock and the cuffs ratcheted open. Alex gave her arm a sharp tug. “Get up.”

Lena wobbled to her feet.

“What are you doing?”

“Shut up and walk.”

Alex led her to the elevator, and down a corridor. Kara’s frail form lay behind a layer of plastic curtains, bathed in brilliant light from sunlamps.

“If she comes around,” Alex said, her voice flat. “You can never tell her. She’ll blame herself.”

Alex parted the curtains and led Lena inside. Kara lay n a stretcher with a layer of bandages wound around her bare torso, looking pale and drawn. Her skin shone with a cold sweat and there were dark circles around her eyes. She lay in a nest of wires and was on oxygen.

“My God,” Lena whispered.

“It was like he said. Some kind of particle beam combined with the laser. It’s like she was impaled through the chest with superheated Kryptonite. If Jon hadn’t caught her, the impact would have been fatal.”

Alex rattled it all off with a cold, medical detachment, except for the tension creaking in around the edges of her voice and the way her shoulder hitched.

“You’ve hurt her so much,” Alex whispered. “I don’t think I’m ever going to fully trust you again. But for the love of God, if you can fix her then fix her.”

“I will,” Lena said, the CEO creeping back into her voice. “I’ll need materials from my lab. I’ll give a Brainy a list. I’m not leaving her.”

Lena did not sleep for another thirty-six hours. She worked tirelessly alongside Brainy, who regarded her curiously as she hunched over lab benches and uploaded instructions to nanites.

Finally she said, “what? Why are you looking at me like that?”

He turned back to his own task without answering her.

An hour later, Alex stormed in.

“She’s getting worse. Whatever you’re doing, you have to hurry.”

Brainy turned from his lab bench and took Alex’s arm. He led her into the hall and they had a clipped, quiet conversation that Lena could not hear, except for Alex’s startled cry of “WHAT?”

It didn’t matter, she was finished. She took the devil in her hands and rushed through the door.

“Let’s go, we can’t waste anymore time.”

Alex openly gaped at her, then looked at Brainy. The expression of utter shock on her face arrested Lena in her tracks.

“What?”

“I,” Alex began, but Brainy grabbed her arm and squeezed hard.

“Let’s go,” said Alex.

Lena swept into the lab carrying the module in her hands as if it were made of precious gold.

“Turn off the sunlamps,” Lena ordered the technicians. “If the poisoning progresses, they’ll kill her faster than they heal her.”

Once they were off, Lena placed the device on Kara’s chest and stepped back.

Its sensors detected the Kryptonite and the system deployed. The pod unfolded like a delicate composite flower, and a wave of nanobots poured over Kara’s skin, instantly devouring and reprogramming the nanites in the wreckage of her suit while consuming the linens and bandages to grant the system more mass.

The entire process unfolded in seconds. It ensconced her in a protective layer and expanded, rapidly building an entire protective pod around her body. Dozens of tiny needles inserted dozens of cannulas into her arms and legs and began pumping her full of nanites, sending them storming through her bloodstream.

Lena bit her lip: there was nothing to do now except watch as the system’s AI administered rapid pulses of red and yellow light to balance the speed of her healing as the nanites in her bloodstream identified irradiated particles and consumed them, using them to make more of themselves.

She sat down. She knew this would take hours.

It ended up taking three days.

Lena slept in the side chair by the bed until someone brought her an uncomfortable recliner. Alex came in and out, as did Brainy and Nia, all of them looking at her oddly.

Finally the pod made a pleasant tone and unfolded. Kara lay on her side within, the nanites having formed a new suit top around her to preserve her modesty. She still wasn’t awake, but she was breathing normally and looked for all the world like her usual beautiful self. Lena was alone with her when it happened, and was glad of it. No one saw her brush the loose strands of gold from her face, and no one saw her rest her palm on Kara’s warm cheek.

They all piled on eventually.

Kara did not wake up.

“Why isn’t she coming around?” Alex demanded. “Why doesn’t she wake up?”

“She’s in a Kryptonian healing trance,” said Brainy. “It’s part of the healing process. She will wake when she is ready.”

“When the hell will that be?”

“We should give Lena the room.”

“What? Why?”

“Trust me,” Brainy said firmly.

Lean was as bewildered as Alex. What was she supposed to do?

When they were gone, she caught herself reflected in the monitors around the bed. She looked like shit, with barely one day’s sleep in four. As haggard as she looked, she didn’t care.

What the hell? It couldn’t hurt.

Lena bent over the bed, leaning on one hand, and took Kara’s in the other.

“I don’t know if you’re in there, but if you can hear me, it’s safe now. You can wake up. We’re all here for you. I’m here.”

It might have been the exhaustion, or the desperation, or the sorrow that filled her to bursting like a molten pain, but something happened and Lena let slip something that she’d held so tight she was sure her heart had long since crushed it.

“I love you, Kara. You don’t have to love me back. You don’t even have to like me. But I need you in the world. I need you. I need you, not Supergirl. I need Kara. I need my Kara. Please, if you’re in there at all,”

Kara’s eyes fluttered open. “Lena?”

“I’m here.”

Kara blinked a few times, and her hand closed gently around Lena’s.

“I had a bad dream,” she said. “It hurt so much, it felt like my heart was ripped out and I was in a dark place, and then I heard your voice leading me home.”

Lena grinned in spite of herself, tears stinging her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Kara. For everything.”

“Hush,” Kara whispered, her angelic voice full of quiet wisdom. “We can do that later. You’re tired. Lay down.”

Lena hesitated for a bare moment and then kicked off her shoes before climbing on next to her. Once she was lying down, sleep came crashing down on her like an avalanche as Kara threw an arm over her and tucked in close.

As she drifted off, Lena heard Alex, somewhere in the hall, snap, “Brainy, you knew this entire time?!”

[neonpaperlanterns]

Okay part two of the last request! (Also good job on the first one).

Dog day x reader heavy angst to fluff.

Poppy, kissy, and dog day realize the reader has been taken by catnap. They search for he and only end up back in play house. Throughout the search dog day gets more and more panicked and aggressive. They find the reader is bad shape and hung in the same jail like dog day used to be. (Trigger warning). Dog day, while seeing this, just losses his mind…his pupils no longer visible in his eye sockets. Catnap taunts dog day asking if he’s that attached to the reader before dog day tackled his and fights him. The fight pretty gore heavy and dog day yells at catnap while fighting saying he should’ve killed him. It gets to a point where dog day is about to kill catnap but the reader weakly calls for him and he immediately stops and looks back to see them okay. They run away and nurse her back to health before dog day confessed that he loves her and the two kiss. The end!

Wake Up

Part two of Star Gazing. [Part one]

[A/n: Trigger warnings for mild blood and gore. And technically attempted murder.]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

DogDay fought against the rubble of their destroyed fort. Smoke clogged his nose and made his head spin. The world around him was becoming hazy as he clawed his way out. There was a throbbing sensation in his left leg as he attempted to right himself. Scrubbing at his eyes, he tried to clear his vision. 

It wasn’t working. 

Shapes were blurring together and his knees were buckling. 

“Angel?” He called out, his voice filled with choked panic. He was met with silence. 

“Angel?” He called out again, trying to stay standing as he stumbled through the room. “Poppy? Kissy?” His voice echoed and bounced around in his own skull uncomfortably. 

“Where are you?” DogDay felt his shoulders sagging as his gait became uneven. Tripping into the hallway he tried to brace himself. He had to stay standing. He had to find them, had to find you. But his arms weren’t working, they felt disconnected from the rest of him. And with every shuddering breath he took he filled his lungs with more of that horrible gas. 

“No I have to…. I have to…” words slurred together as he slipped down the wall. “Have to find every… everyone..” Against his will DogDay’s eyes dropped closed. Even behind closed lids all he could see was red.

* * *

“W..ke u.. ,Do..da.. co..e on wa..e up!” DogDay groaned, something was touching him and he needed it to stop. 

“Go away.” He went to push away the insistent thing that kept shoving him but everything was just so heavy.

“No! Ple..e you hav.. to g..t up!” Oh god why were they so loud! 

“DOGDAY!” Every fiber of his being shattered like glass as his eyes snapped open. Adrenaline tore through his veins as he bolted up. Pain lanced through his head as his gaze bounced around unfocused.

“Wha-” small hands grabbed at his face. But something was incorrect, it made the hair on his spine stand on end. 

“It’s us, it’s Poppy.” His heart was thundering in his chest as he tried to even his breathing. Looking down he felt more confused than reassured as he stared at Poppy.

“Where’s..” he trailed off, eyes darting around looking for you. Yet all he found was Kissy and the small doll still grasping at his face. 

“Catnap took them.” Poppy’s voice came out quiet as she clutched at him.

DogDay stopped breathing, his vision was narrowing .

No. 

This couldn’t be happening.

No. No. No. 

A low snarl was building in his chest as he dug furrows into the ruined ground. He has no idea how you have kept calm in situations like this. How you kept them all from falling apart. He wished he could be but he wasn’t you. Standing up he felt as the fur around his chin was tugged at and he heard the surprise squeak leave Poppy as she dropped to the ground. If you were here you would comfort her, you wouldn’t have pulled away like he did. But you weren’t and Dogday wasn’t you.

Storming his way out of the school he didn’t stop to see if the others were following. He knew exactly where that traitor had taken you. Ripping out the metal lamppost that stood out front, he felt it twist and bend underneath his grip. 

“DogDay wait, we should think this through.” Poppy called after him but he didn’t listen. You would have listened. You always listened to them, to their concerns, their fears, everything. You listened.

But he was not you.

Gritting his teeth DogDay stared down The Playhouse. 

“Please-” Poppy flinched backwards as a snarl tore from his throat, interrupting her. 

“No! Angel needs us. I will not leave them with that thing for another moment.” Later he would regret how he acted towards Poppy but right now he didn’t care. His heart clenched in his chest and he could feel the blood rushing in his ears. The door loomed above him and he could feel himself hesitating. 

DogDay could still smell the cloying scent of old blood and mildew. He could still see those hungry piercing eyes. Could still feel those gaping ravenous mouths tearing him apart piece by piece. 

Bile pooled at the back of his throat. He had thought he would never have to come back here. Had done everything to make sure that you, him, or the girls wouldn’t have to step foot inside that hellish nightmare again. But here he was and he was hesitating and he hated himself for it.You needed him and he was just standing out here. 

The image of your content face and the feeling of your weight on his chest flooded his mind. 

Gritting his teeth he tightened his grip on the metal pole. 

BANG!

Metal creaks as he kicks the door.

BANG!

This isn’t subtle. He was sure Catnap could hear this.

BANG!BANG!BANG!

Pain lances through his leg.

CRASH!

DogDay is breathing heavily as dust flies up into the air. He can hear skittering as he runs towards the cells. The feeling of being followed made his skin scrawl as he rushed through the once colorful plush maze. His vision narrowed as he threw himself at the entrance to the pool. 

He stopped again. 

The pool area was shrouded in deep shadows, the only light came from the one above the other door. It flickered sporadically, elongating the silhouettes made by the rusted ducks. 

Memories unbidden clawed their way to the forefront of his mind.

Everything is so quiet, it feels near deafening after the alarms. He can still hear the screaming, how they cried for help. The phantom of pounding fists pulse along his chest and the taste of iron still lingers on his tongue. His head is spinning, the world is tilted and he doesn’t know which way is up.

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!” DogDay shouts. Ears twitch as Catnap turns to look at him. The feline's head is titled in confusion. He flinches as the cat approaches, slow and measured Catnap looms above him.

“What do you mean what I’ve done?” A heavy purple paw still stained with blood comes up to rest on his shoulder. 

It pulls him closer.

“I think you mean, what have we done.” the words slither along DogDays’s ears. It makes him gag. The smell of poppy’s is suddenly rapidly filling the air.

“And what we have done my friend is give those that hurt us exactly what they deserve.”

Eyes flutter open, DogDay’s vision slowly swims into focus. Everything feels heavy. Attempting to lift his head feels impossible. 

A wheezing groan escapes past his uncomfortably parched mouth.

“Oh you’re awake.” The sound of Catnaps voices makes his stomach churn. 

“That’s unfortunate.” It’s said with dull amusement. “But I suppose you will succumb again soon.” The way the cat was speaking was grating on his ears. 

“Wh.. Why?” He choked out, his throat felt so dry. Catnaps hums at his question. Through blurry eyes he watches as a paw comes up to rest on lower abdomen. 

“He said it would be better this way.” Catnaps' tone continues to hold the same dull amusement.

“What wou- Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!”

DogDay sucked in a breath, heart leaping into his throat as a scream echoed through the decrepit pool room. The sound bounced around in his skull and for a moment he didn’t know if it was real. What was happening? Clutching at his chest he felt like all the air had escaped his lungs.

“Aaaahhhhh!” Another scream and he was moving. Ramming into the other door he burst into the other room. The faint orange glow of old candles littered the hallway. Visibility was low but it didn’t matter. At the end of the room stood Catnap, hunched over with gas billowing out of his mouth. 

He couldn’t see you but he could hear you. Soft quiet sobs drifted through the air. 

“Oh you’re here.” He watched as the feline cocked his head to the side. Something flickered in those cavernous eyes.

“We thought you’d never come.” Catnap’s tail swished lazily as he fully turned to look at DogDay. The traitor's face was on full display now and something snapped inside of the canine. Blood was splattered across the feline's face. It stained the purple fur crimson and the world suddenly became solely centered on the cat. 

DogDay saw red. 

In seconds he was breathing the same air as that… that bastard. Raising his weapon, it made contact with CatNap’s head. The monster screeched as he attempted to scramble backwards. DogDay didn’t let him get far. Bringing the pole down he could hear a CRUNCH.

Catnap’s shoulder sagged. 

He brought it down again.

And again.

And again.

Catnap was screaming. Red was pooling beneath him. He was trying to fight back. Claws would swipe at him, tearing into his skin but he kept bringing the metal pole down. Kept hearing crunch after crunch.

“DogDay.”

 Scream after scream.

“DogDay!”

Plea after false plea,

“DOGDAY!” DogDay stopped, the pole raised. His body shook from the aborted motion. 

“DogDay please stop. Please.” His head snapped to the side. You hung there in a cell all too familiar. Your arms stretched above you with belts pulled tight enough to bruise. Blood spotted along your clothes and dripped from your mouth. He swallowed thickly as he looked at your tear stained face.

“Please.” You begged, your voice hoarse. The pole clattered to the floor as he rushed over to you. His hands were shaking as he undid your binds. You dropped heavily into his waiting arms. 

He watched as you curled closer to his chest.

“Please get me out of here.” He could only nod at your request. His voice failed him as he held you close. Taking uneasy steps towards the exit he glanced behind him.

Catnap was a bloody heap. He was breathing, it was shallow but he was breathing. Trickles of smoke fell from his gaping maw and one eye light flickered, stained a murky red. The cat watched them with a look DogDay could not decipher. A paw weakly reached out towards him, Catnaps jaw clicked wordlessly.

DogDay shut the door.

* * *

Hiding above PlayCare DogDay watched over you. 

You’ve been asleep for four days. Barely waking up enough for him to at least get some water in you. Poppy and Kissy would creep in, their movements skittish as they dropped off supplies. He would watch how weary they were, how they kept glancing at him and God he needed to apologize. Yet every time he tried the words would get caught in his throat. 

All he could muster was a nod of acknowledgement and a whispered ‘you don’t have to leave.’ but they wouldn’t stay. He really couldn’t blame them. 

Taking a fresh cloth he wiped it over your face. The cuts along your cheeks and forehead were thankfully shallow. He got the feeling they were meant to be superficial. A way to upset him, which worked. Rage and guilt bubbled in his gut every time he looked at you. 

If he hadn’t hesitated. If he had just been a little bit faster then maybe you wouldn’t be in the state you were.

“Now that’s not the expression I wanted to see when I woke up.” Your cracking voice had him dropping the cloth. His focus solely on your groggy lopsided smile.

“You’re awake.” His voice comes out wobbly.

“How are you feeling?”

“Does it hurt anywhere?”

“Are you hungry?”

“I should go get-” A hand on his face cuts him off. Your thumb is tracing along his cheek and you’re looking at him with such affection that it makes all his thoughts but one come to a halt.

“I’m so happy you’re awake.” He choked out as tears welled in his eyes. “And I’m so sorry.” He cried as he nuzzled further into your hand. 

“No, no, don't apologize.” You’re hushing him, wiping his tears away as you cradled his head in your hands. “Please don’t apologize. What happened wasn’t your fault.” You lean your forehead against his.

Tears blurr his vision as he continues to cry. “But-” A soft bush of lips against his make him pause. Leaning back he stares at you, wide-eyed.

“No buts. I love you, you saved me. You protected me. Never apologize for that.” You shake him a little bit for emphasis. 

“You love me?” He asks, disbelief coloring his tone.

“Yes, very much.” You’re smiling and his heart is beating so fast and hard that he is sure you can hear it.

“I love you too, so much that I feel like my heart is going to burst out of my chest.” Tentatively he leaned forward. “Can.. Can I?” He looks down at your lips then back up to your eyes. 

You answer him by closing the gap. He can feel as your hands gently run over the back of his head. His arms came up to wrap around your waist. 

DogDay melts into your embrace. 

When this is all over he can’t wait to see the stars with you.