#i think I want to make his hair fluffier in the future

[whitepeachrum]

When your older sibling hasn't seen you in a while and they suddenly look smaller than you remember them to be.

(In response to this EngUkr post I made.)

[mmani-e]

Another post! This time featuring what the antagonists for my AU might look like. While Akane and Nekomaru are locked in the rest is up to changes in the future. Kyoko and Celestia were put on a poll but the results I believe I didn't set up properly, so now I'm amending that somewhat. I drew both sets in these sketches, and when enough time has passed I'll set up another poll, properly this time on strawpoll.

As for some design explanations and lore you can check under the cut :)

Kyoko and Makoto I believe are pretty straightforward here, I gave Kyoko a neckerchief that goes pretty far down to give her that sort of upper class educated look, while Makoto I gave a smart little jacket. There's only so far you can go with the normal boy, but I also made his hair fluffier and nicer. His ahoge is there but it's normally combed back, and only springs to full life when he's in murder mode.

Kyoko joined her dad in leaving the tradition of detective work behind and entered the business world where she used her analytical mind to be the best damn stock investor in the world, while definitely something she excels at it's not something she finds particularly fulfilling.

Makoto is a wholesome, normal dude who loves writing books about wholesome stories with good endings, while his family was and still is normal, he was captured once by unscrupulous scientists wanting to explore Despair and its mysterious qualities. Makoto never gave in, but in his suffering developed an alter ego who was grimly invested in justice above all else.

Sparkling Justice is a night haunter, who exclusively goes around killing murderers and evildoers against Makoto's wishes. Choosing to right any injustice he sees in the world, allowing for happy endings for the victims, surely?

I went hard with celes and hifumi a long time ago in previous designs, so here they are with similar designs as I gave them before. Hifumi wears a suit vest, and a button-up underneath while still keeping his bag... which may or may not be more than just a simple bag...

Celestia was born a normal kid and absolutely hated that life, so when a relative of hers from Europe visited she begged them and her family to go with them and she did. She grew up exploring Europe, and would propose money-making schemes to her family abroad and would eventually be able to fund the glamorous lifestyle she always thought she deserved.

Hifumi is just a writer-focused version of himself, though with a particular love for action-romance novels and fiction rather than strictly heart-melting novels like Touko. He's a sweet boy but very weird and horny for Celestia, so he's completely useless around her. He's basically a tool... just like...

ROBO-JUSTICE is a serial killer known for their modus operandi of targeting particularly attractive and very mean women with hammers or blunt force trauma. This alter was formed after one particularly awful night of bullying resulting in Hifumi getting thrown into an abandoned industrial park and nearly dying from exposure to wires and sharp metal. Despite this though, it is almost entirely subservient to Celestia whenever it surfaces from Hifumi's mind.

Akane and Nekomaru I've already drawn before, but I think it'd be nice to give some of the backstory I've planned for them.

Akane is a well-meaning, brash, and reckless person whose freakish natural strength pairs with a luck that does everything except help her directly. Random and unpredictable, Akane desperately tries everything she can to get into extremely unpredictable and dangerous situation for her luck to grace those around her with the best outcome from her misfortune, even if it means hurting a lot of people in the process.

Nekomaru was inspired by the nonstop hard work he saw the nurses had to do when they were treating his heart condition. So inspired that he made it his solemn vow to join them whatever it took, leading him to become the ultimate nurse. He would, however, be the first of his classmates to fall to the despair of the mastermind, as his well-meaning nature drew him into a trap he could not predict.

For Rantaro and Tenko I took inspiration from M. Bison(Dictator) and Criss Angel specifically. These are the most experimental designs I have as you can tell, but I plan on working on them a lot.

Tenko's story involves her becoming the head of her little "dojo" and straight up turning it into a cult, with her as the ultimate supreme leader and the greatest fighter in the world.

Rantaro started off doing magic for her sisters, and got so good at making them happy that one of them introduced his magic act to the world through sites like youtube, causing him to become a sensation drooled over by millions of girls around the world.

[rararazaquato]

chapter 2 is coming. here's makoto and kurumi.

a lot of design notes under the cut, both about these guys and the nda detectives

yuma was specifically given a little facial hair because, in the canon of the fic, he's been too busy to actually shave. however, the out-of-canon reason is that my art style is so chibi cutesit that it makes everyone look a bajillion years younger than they actually are. yuma's design is already a little young-looking despite most evidence in-canon pointing to him being an adult, so i wanted to give him that extra signifier of being a grown ass man.

the longer hair is also there for the same reasons - he hasn't gotten it cut for a while, and the bowl cut made him look childish.

because i have chronic same-face-syndrome, i put yuma and makoto in the same pose to emphasize that they are, genetically, the same person.

honestly, makoto's design versus yuma's in-game really makes it clear just how much a haircut and outfit change can make a character look older. with makoto wearing a suit and having hair that isn't in the perfect shape of a bowling ball, he looks a lot more like a young adult with a babyface. because i feel like he doesn't need the extra age signifiers (and because i feel like he'd want to differentiate himself from yuma more), i didn't give him the facial hair.

the "looking less like yuma" angle is also why he still bleaches and grows out his hair.

i like to think makoto starts taking better care of himself postgame, so i made his hair a bit fluffier and softer-looking to show he's actually been brushing and washing it. i mean, come on. canon makoto ily but you look like a greased-up yorkshire terrier.

i also gave makoto curtain bangs because girl... you have a forehead the size of the moon. i'm also a member of large forehead gang so i understand you pain but still.

makoto's outfit is actually loosely based on an outfit i own irl! i have a hawaiian shirt with similar colors (albeit a different pattern) and blue swim trunks with red lobsters on them.

makoto probably sunburns really easily, both as a result of being pale as fuck (yuma also has this issue) and being a homunculus (he won't die in the sun, but it does result in a mild allergy). so just imagine he's always lathered in sunscreen.\

mentally, makoto is the same age as yuma (so 20 when this fic takes place) and kurumi is 19 (i headcanon she's only a year younger than yuma). chronologically, they are both about four years old. #justhomunculusthings

i changed kurumi's hairstyle because her canon one is stupid. like why does she have two skinny ass braids hidden in her coat. give her those long luscious locks.

she's wearing disposable gloves to protect her hands, and almost all of her clothing is specifically designed to reflect uv rays.

you'll notice the inside of kurumi's mouth is actually a different color than any of the master detectives. that's the homunculus baby!!!

i gave her an ahoge because i hope she gets the protag treatment for the next game. also i hope she and shinigami become girlbesties and also that shinigami gets the fuck over herself. um ok now time for design notes abt the other people. artwork here if u didn't see the og one.

desuhiko actually does turn 20 in the timeframe of the fic. his birthday party is a future chapter.

he gets knockoff heelys in the upcoming chapter bcuz i think he'd enjoy them. but he got them flippy floppys in the meantime.

fubuki got a new hairstyle because i think she would be a bit more loose and silly as she starts going on more adventures.

her and vivia actually have two birthdays between the time i headcanon raincode to take place (march 2XXX) and the fic (july 2XXX+1). so while yuma is 19 in mdarc and 20 in usf, fubuki is 21 in mdarc and 23 in usf (and vivia is 25-27)

yes, that is ibuki mioda on her shirt.

i'm actually scared of needles so halara's earrings get a redesign. they get new ones in the upcoming chapter as well.

their outfit might be mostly long sleeves, but the jacket is lightweight and breezy and the jeans have wide legs, so it's actually nice and cool.

just realized this outfit is primarily yellow with some red and blue acccents. i can't believe i reinvented sollux homestuck. i'm sorry halara baby i didn't mean to compare you to an ugly bitch like that (this is a joke i actually like sollux)

vivia's outfit is inspired by the stupid shit i would make in the sims before i discovered custom content. i feel like he'd be a sims girly.

your guess for why yuma got facial hair due to never shaving while vivia, who is infamously too executive-dysfunction-riddled to leave the fireplace much less shave, has the skin of a newborn baby is up to you to interpret. possible options include (un)fortunate genetics on either/both of them, he is trans and hasn't started/doesn't intend to start t, or he just pays halara to do it for him.

actually i do think he pays halara to help him out with things when the chronic fatigue/executive dysfunction gets too much to deal with. fubuki will do it for free but also she is kind of bad at being helpful as a result of being fubuki.

aaand time for the general headcanons section

every single one of these characters is some flavor of neurodivergent. halara and kurumi are autistic, desuhiko has adhd, and yuma, makoto, fubuki, and vivia have both. i'm sure some of them also have other neurodivergencies but those are the two i'm most familiar with so those are the two that worm their way into my headcanons.

not a single one of these characters doesn't have ptsd. like i'm sorry but you cannot live through chapters 4 and 5 of rain code and not be mentally ill afterwards. most of em also have a few other mental illnesses because i love projecting on fictional characters <3

vivia's also got some sort of chronic physical illness (my personal headcanon is pots), and makoto sometimes uses a cane. yuma should sometimes use a cane but he has the bodily awareness of a fucking peanut and thinks it hurts everyone to walk.

yuma's gonna realize he's any pronouns nonbinary someday, but that won't be for a hot minute. makoto is the same, but he's a lot closer to that realization than yuma is. both are also bi, as is kurumi.

desuhiko is the resident kodakaverse problematic bicon. there's always one of em!

fubuki is a lesbian. "oh but she confesses to yuma in her final gumshoe gab!" well as i said before yuma isn't a man. it's a bit confusing to her because she doesn't know that yet but turns out she's just got that Sense where she can tell that yuma isn't exactly cis.

halara is nonbinary (obviously, that's basically canon) and pan

vivia is somewhere on the aroace spectrum (both out of general lack of interest and because sex and romance are physically/mentally straining) but he's generally gay-aligned.

[centuryberry]

Hello! I wanted to make an ask about a what-if that was floating around in my head for a while (like 2 days.)

The “what-if” being a scenario in which a cub appears in the little dawn au form the future. Only that the cub is not Wukong’s and Macaques, it’s trafficlights trio’s future cub. (They can be from an alternate universe in which MK stay’s in sundown au or from somewhere else.)

What would be everyone’s reaction to the future grandchild/child? Personally I think their personality would be a lot like young MK or Mei (maybe a bit like macaque seeing as they probably spend a lot of time with their grandma?) and that they would be really spoiled by their grandparents and pearents.

I see the child as a female and closer to a bull demon in appearance (cus ya know, their from the demon bull clan? They kinda have to be a bull to fit in?) but honestly it could be what ever you want. (Imagine if they had the face markings like Mk’s side of the fam? Or maybe their hair is black like Mei’s?!)

As for how the child even came to be, I would say that it was through some weird magic (maybe they inserted all their power into a stone? Blood rituals/magic???)

OMG, what if the child traveled back in time to meet their Maba (bama? Baba? Papa?) MK because for what ever reason something happed to MK and he can no longer be around! Maybe he was killed! Idk, at this point I’m rambling.

Sorry for the long ask. I originally didn’t know where to send this because there are like, two blogs making posts about sundown AU and I didn’t know who I should be sending this to (but because Xiaodan is from you fic “little dawn” I decided to send this to you.)

chapter 11 was a bomb (I just finished it before sending this) and if you want you can ignore this entire ask, just tell me if you do so I don’t end up expecting anything or smt (or don’t, you can do whatever you want.)

Thank you for reading this silly and kinda dumb rambling, I honestly don’t even remember what the original ask was but thank you for reading through all this. Have a lovely day or night filled with unending joy and kind thoughts. You are appreciated and I am so great full you took time out of your life to write your stories and read through this whole thing.

Bye bye 👋

Hello there! Don’t apologize about the length of l the ask. I love to see people getting excited over this amazing AU (belonging to peachshadows/terrible-leviathan, please don’t hold off on giving them some love they deserve the world for their creativity). To clarify, the Sundown Era is their creation while Little Dawn, a fluffier spin off the AU, was expanded on by me with the fic.

As for the scenario, I’d theorize that there would be a lot of chaos. If this is happened during the Little Dawn setting with MK already dropping into the world, SD!Shadowpeach would be thrilled at the idea of another cub/calf to spoil and look forward to - also cementing their time travel theory. SD!Ironbull would he similarly doting while also pushing for the wedding sooner. I mean, it’s obviously going to happen so why not sooner?

Red Son would be flustered and over the moon at the same time at the confirmation of a child and would do his best to “prove” his ability to childrear in front of MK. I feel like Mei would think the kid is cute but also be a little nervous? She’s not at the point in life where she’s ready for a kid. Would still spoil and play with the baby, though.

As for MK? He’s just worried that another universe is missing their kid. He’s stressed and worried for not one, but two babies that don’t belong. He would be flustered about the implications of the baby’s existence if he wasn’t already in a difficult position.

Thanks for this fun ask! And thank you for reading Little Dawn!

[k4nzi]

Hazbin Hotel oc who I wanna put online because I need decent Irish representation that ain't a leprechaun. I can't draw for shit so have a written reference instead!

Name: Adrian Mulligan

Age: 33 (sinners stay the age they died at)

Lifespan: 1914-1947

Ethnicity: White Irish

Cause of death: Murdered with a gunshot wound to the chest

Human appearance:

ginger hair, green eyes, grey flatcap, not entirely sure how to describe 1920s-30s American fashion so I'll post pictures of what clothes he usually wore when he was alive.

Demon appearance:

He's essentially a tall orange fox demon, a humanoid-ish fox basically. He's tall and lean (roughly as tall as Angel Dust). His face is relatively human minus the sharp teeth, eyes and fox ears. His body has orange fur on his torso that fade out to black from his forearms and from below the knee. His eyes have black scleras and green irises. He wears black trousers, black heeled boots, a white blouse with a black bowtie around the collar, and black waistcoat.. He has a fluffy fox tail for good measure. His fox appearance in Hell is a reference to foxes being portrayed as sly and untrustworthy- like a conman. His hair remains similar to when he was human except it's more orange than ginger and is fluffier to mimic a fox's fur.

Life:

Born in Dublin in 1914, Adrian was born into a poor family. In 1925, his family saw all the prosperity in the USA and moved there...only for it to be less than ideal. Not everyone benefitted, immigrants like him for example, from the roaring 20s so Adrian spent most of his time on the streets. He had a knack for petty theft and pickpocketing as a child. As he grew older and the Great Depression hit, he found himself needing to think bigger. He began to get into con artistry. Scamming desperate people for their money. It wasn't much but it helped him get by. He once tried (and failed) to scam a member of the New York Mafia but instead of handing his ass to him...Adrian landed himself a job. He began working for the mafia as a conman, bootlegger and spy. He often worked at night and had to be incredibly calculating if he wanted to make money out of someone. When Prohibited ended in 1933 and the criminal bootlegging industry fell, Adrian found himself struggling again. The pressure of losing an important source of income meant Adrian had to bring in more money from his scams. He was stuck doing this up until his death in 1947. He was murdered by a gunshot to the chest as an act of revenge because it turns out that people don't like being cheated of their valuables.

Afterlife:

Unsurprisingly, a life of lying and deceiving landed Adrian in Hell. He was determined to make his afterlife different though. He spent his life with barely anything...he won't let his afterlife be the same. This time though he was in luck... sorta. The Radio Demon: feared but respected. He found Adrian when he was new to Hell and homeless. Spotting an opportunity, he promised Adrian power he could've only dreamt of when he was alive...for a price. Adrian however, didn't see any other choice, so he reluctantly accepted the deal. His soul in exchange for a place as Alastor's right hand demon and power. The powers were voodoo, shadow manipulation and fortune-telling (the only limit for that is that he can't tell his own future and yes I got inspo from Dr. Facilier from Princess and the Frog). All of this gave Adrian the nickname "The Shadow Demon" (yes that was a Princess and The Frog reference which works nicely considering Keith David voices Husk and Facilier). His power and influence at Alastor's side helped Adrian become an overlord himself. Desperate sinners give him their souls in exchange for his fortune-telling or he cons demons for their souls. Adrian ended up at the Hazbin Hotel to work as a butler and Alastor's minion. He has everything he never had as a human...but is it really worth it? Is being used as Alastor's stooge worth the status?

That's all I got so far, feel free to ask any questions! I could talk about ocs all day fr

[thelostrainbowthenovel]

Some concept sketches I worked on over the course of the previous month, of the younger royal kids all grown up! Since I work so much on their older siblings, I wanted to give the younger royals some more focus, so here is a glimpse into their futures! As a reference, these are all roughly 15 years or so into the future.

I hope you enjoy! :3 More notes for each of them are below, from left-right and top-bottom.

================================================

- Ashton Von Brandt: Grows to be pretty tall(about 6'0"), the second-tallest of the siblings and unlike them, has more of a soft and thick/slightly chubby build as he is not a fighter like them. His hair gets a lot curlier/fluffier, just a little past his ears and he has more of a simple and modest fashion sense. Despite being blessed with powerful magic that could potentially surpass his eldest brother's and mother's(former) magic, and his whole family having taken to the warrior lifestyle in some way or another, Ash surprisingly never did. He was still surrounded by warriors growing up, but as he is much younger than his siblings there was never quite the same pressure to join the army or do any sort of fighting like them. Being closer in age to Flint + his future nieces he naturally spent the most time hanging out with them, as he found it hard to relate to anything with Nate or Tia with the huge age gap he has with them. Kind of insecure with his role as a prince since he doesn't have any huge responsibilities, and even if he often gets compared to his older siblings he still tries to come across as his own person. Pretty sociable and friendly, having no major ambitions in life besides being the relatable uncle and socialite prince, but does enjoy more 'domestic' activities such as reading, cooking, and candle making.

- Flint Von Brandt: Does grow up to be pretty tall(about 5'10" or 5'11") but becomes the shortest of the brothers, with a little more of a lean build but still pretty toned and slightly muscular, with little scars all over. Hair-wise maybe gets a different part, and grows it longer to about shoulder-length, often putting it in low ponytails. He is also the only one of the brothers that inherits the noticeable shadow after he shaves, and he usually does keep a little facial hair. A possible left earring and maybe a few tattoos, and fashion-wise isn't super remarkable but does like wearing stylish jackets and boots. I honestly see his teen years sucking a lot for him, as kids his age are very mean and rude to him for many reasons, so he's very angsty and agitated during this time. Starts his junior training for the army within the next year, and continues that along with his other academic lessons till he reaches adulthood. Unlike his older siblings, instead of joining the army right away he instead sets out to go traveling, as that was always a dream of his to do. He does that for a few years, mainly checking out countries he hasn't visited before and doing any local hiking or trail challenges. Eventually returns home around his early-mid twenties, kind of spending a long time just reading and catching up on all that he had missed, kind of going through life aimlessly before he decides to join the army like he never actually did before. I've been kind of thinking that he would deal with some love issues throughout the years, though I'm not sure whether I can picture him just staying single or eventually settling down.

- Skye Neptune: Does get a little taller(around 5'3") but still relatively short compared to her family, while getting a little curvier with thicker legs. Kind of plays around with her hair-length throughout the years but mostly keeps a choppy-kind of style with a half-shave or undercut, with all her piercings that were described in her piercing post, a few tattoos(I'm thinking at least two full sleeves), and still keeps a gothic fashion sense but now more daring. Is already in her moody teen years but I think they just get more difficult, with the aftermath of what happens to her sister Talia and some people still being mean or rude to her. Once she is done with her schooling things get a little better, as now she is free to pursue whatever she wants. Still very much into the gothic subculture and has started feeling brave to learn and explore more "occult"/supernatural interests, finding these fields very fascinating to learn about, especially with them still generally carrying a dark taboo about them. Besides this she kind of doesn't know what to do with her life outside of her princess duties, but eventually she takes up some part-time modelling for the growing dark fashion trends in Arian, and mainly modelling for her brother's growing fashion line. I might not keep this but I've been kind of toying around with the idea of her turning into a vampire at some point, but I'm not completely sure yet.

- Zephyr Neptune: Grows to be pretty tall(about 6'0") and the tallest of the siblings, with a similar lanky build like his dad. Hair grows to be about mid-back in length, a few piercings(a left nose stud and multiple ear piercings), and a classy/fancy fashion sense that can lean a little experimental sometimes with his general interest in fashion. I don't think anything too remarkable happens in his childhood other than the atmosphere shift in his family with what happens with Talia, as well as the changing politics and dynamics of the world, so he is mostly the same shy and sensitive kid he is now. His interest in fashion does grow and during his pre-teen/teen years he starts taking extracurricular classes to learn how to sew, knit, and crochet, focusing his interests on learning to make his own clothes. Becomes pretty good at it at an early age, and his first project outside of his classes is a dress he makes for his older sister Skye, but he also eventually makes clothes for his other family members. Once he is an adult he takes some apprenticeships to learn how to make more complicated designs with more complicated/special fabrics, at first working under the 'Marcet Fashion' company both due to his interest in the company from a young age thanks to his sister Talia taking him there a lot, and because the style of clothes he likes to make fits closely with their own aesthetics. In time he becomes quite successful and popular as a fashion designer, and now has a bit more confidence and self-pride to him, but is still relatively reserved and humble as he gets overwhelmed easily in pushy conversations. Especially in romantic situations, as despite having a fair amount of people interested in him, he freezes up and gets all flustered in these moments and doesn't know how to handle himself or talk to others.

- Avani Erdmann: Grows a little taller(between 5'2"-5'4") but still kind of short, with kind of a slimmer figure from her sickness but she still has a pear-shaped kind of body with thicker legs. Goes through different hair-lengths and styles throughout the years but ultimately sticks with the short/pixie-cut one, gets her nose and navel piercing with some new ones(a couple of inner-ear piercings and an eyebrow piercing), several tattoos, and still keeps a comfy/light and breezy style, but one now that is a little more mature but still experimental and fun. Eventually gets better from the Blight Flu but is still pretty sick and weak afterwards, spending a long time at home and in checkups as she continues to heal. Kind of falls out of sports and focuses mainly on her art hobbies, especially during her healing period, but she does eventually pick up yoga and a simple exercise routine to still remain physically active. Goes a few years without seeing Vernon in person much with everything that has been going on in Erdennia, but they still keep in touch and once they reach their adult years, they confront their feelings for each other and finally become a couple. Doesn't have any grand plans for her life as her sickness burnt some of her adventurous spirit out, but she does learn to feel comfortable living life at a 'peaceful' pace and pouring more of her passion and energy into her art. She does a lot of crafts with flowers, along with drawings, scrapbooking, and oshibana, but she also takes up photography and starts a little cosmetology business on the side. Eventually gets married around her early-mid-twenties and eventually also has a couple kids of her own.

- Beaumont Erdmann: Grows to be the same height as his father(so 5'5"), with the same stocky/chubby figure from his youth but with some noticeable muscle definition. Grows his hair out a little longer to chin-shoulder-length, a little facial hair that is kept pretty short, ears pierced, a few tattoos, with a colorful/patterned beach/summer/vacation kind of fashion sense. Like Avani, he eventually gets better from the Blight Flu but spends a long time recuperating and healing from it. Eventually redirects his energy into exercising regularly as he finds it both beneficial to both his body and mind, kind of doing general exercises but he focuses more on weight-lifting to build up his strength. Comes out of his shell more to have more of a chill and laidback personality, as he learns to focus on himself more instead of trying to live up to others' expectations of him. In his teen years he finds more of his own people and supportive friend group to hang out with, and also finally manages to become friends with Murphy, as they never got around to doing that when they were kids but they enjoy catching up now. Besides continuing his exercise/weight-lifting and having fun trying new things with his friends, he takes his love for comfort food and sweets into a venture of cooking and baking, having learned from both the palace chefs and his mother, and enjoys trying new recipes/ideas and making good food for his family and friends.

- Murphy Alagona: Also grows a bit taller(about 5'9") but still relatively average, with an average build but a little more toned in his upper-body. Honestly, my main ideas for an older Murphy has always just been Inigo Montoya(sans scars and facial hair), mainly with the hair, but also the outfit a bit as I can seen him wearing a TLR/Mareasian-version of it. Has his ears pierced(single lobes and a few cartilage/helix), a few tattoos but mainly just matching ones with his older siblings, and kind of an experimental version of his current style, with a lot of androgynous and gender-neutral styles too. It takes him a bit to adjust to his brother leaving home(as he does within the year of the main story's events) as he misses him a lot, but in time he gets used to his absence and kind of takes over his "little shit" energy from him, to Mere's dismay. As his sister Meredith has her first child within the next couple of years, a main thing that keeps him going during his teen years is spending time with his nephews. His teen years are by far better than his older siblings', and while he has become more self-confident and friendly, he still has his anxiety and nervous/socially-awkward tendences. Kind of doesn't know what to do with his life at first when he becomes an adult but he decides to do some traveling, as besides the other three main kingdoms he hasn't seen the world much. Does that on-and-off for a few years, eventually getting inspired by his travels to start his author career as he always had an interest in writing. Writes mainly fantasy-adventure, action, and mysteries, and writes under a pseudonym so no one except for a few people know he is the author. Has retained a close friendship with Alwyn throughout the years who was a big help to Murph in figuring out and exploring his gender-nonconformity, and they have grown close to the point there is a new 'tension' between them, but they haven't talked about it much in fear of potentially messing up their current dynamic.

[6okuto]

About the ask with chapter 12!Sage: now I need Sage and Mc to be able to kiss, cuddle and have sex together again please T^T Some hurt/comfort headcanons with lot of fluff, I need Sage to heal T^T I know that Mc will go slow with him but when Sage is ready I know that Mc will take good care of him. That man need this T^T

happy sage happy sage oh i love him so dearly i want him to be happy but i know we aren't getting that for a long time so i'll do it myself & for u nonnie

sage spends so much time looking out for mc, fighting with (and for) them, learning to work with others again, that when it's finally time to rest he doesn't know what to do, really

it's a weird sort of limbo state. there'll always be more threats in the future but he finds himself sitting with them and realizes that ? they get to rest for now ?

the process takes time and trust, but sage slowly gets used to mc's presence again and accepts that they're there for him, letting himself be hugged and kissed :(

my hcs of the first night be Gone! sage lets himself kiss their head before going to sleep with his arm around them and it's the best he's slept in months >:(

that's probably after a night of conversation and trying to be #vulnerable ,, talking about the fears they had and whatever else

sage realizing that he's taking time to get back to where he was before it all happened, and being that much more grateful for mc being with him . because he hasn't forgotten all the time he spent alone with only his thoughts and regrets, and if mc wasn't there he'd probably spiral again. sage laying his heart out and telling them that with as much sincerity as he can muster.

all i feel is pain

mc continues to ask for his consent before touching him and checks if he's uncomfortable with anything

sage starting to take initiative and holding their hand first :( him letting himself sit near them :(

thinking of the day when mc goes up to sage from behind and they don't feel him flinch or make him turn around suddenly (you guys know that ash and eiji scene. You Know?)

sage having a hard day and realizing he can cuddle and complain to mc instead of holding it in. sage coming up to mc first who's definitely not expecting him to lay on top of them with a pout on his face because he's sore and they ran out of his favourite food and—

sage...letting himself purr....while mc brushes their fingers through his hair....

he starts laughing at their jokes and throwing some back again

the first time he makes one on his own, mc smiles so brightly and sage doesn't realize at first that it wasn't just because his joke was especially good

sometimes he still finds himself staying up or waking up from bad dreams except now he lets mc comfort him instead of trying to hide away

the first time they drink together...sage letting loose a little more...

"hm? sage the master drinker can't handle another?" "feeling bold enough to test me, mc?" and he has that signature smirk and it's just !@$!#!@# yeah i'll lose a bet if it means you smile

just dates in general. sage wants to make up for all that lost time because hey if mc came back for a guy like him he wants to make sure they feel like it was worth it (and also because ohhh he loves them)

is his new cape coat thing attached to something because i want mc to try it on and despite the memories connected to it sage can't help but snort at how endearing they are

"does it work? do i look cool now, do you think?" "yes you definitely look very cool, mc."

semi-nsfw

sage is nervous before finally having sex again because he can't help but remember what happened

mc holds his face and promises that they don't have to do anything he doesn't want to, but that they aren't going anywhere anymore. not this time

that's probably how mc leads at first just to reassure him,, before letting him take the lead to make sure he's comfortable with whatever they do

probably a fluffier softer session the first time just cuz. woo hello... a lot of intimacy for the first time in a long time

sage!! taking his time!! to truly appreciate mc!! letting them know how much he loves them and how much he missed them!! ACK

mc kissing all of his scars new and old. just btw. just. yeah

two idiots trying to focus on and please the other because they think they deserve it more. Bonk :[

[dayseternal-blog]

Hi days! I know you're the best person to go to for some NH fic recommendations. Can you share with us really angsty NH fics? I've read White Lillies, that amount of angst is revitalizing I LOVE IT!!! big thanks!!!

HELLO

For how fluffy NaruHina is, there SURE ARE A LOT of shippers who LOVE NARUHINA ANGST.  I’ve been asked for angst recs far more than any other type????

I will now compile every angst fic rec I’ve ever made into one long list.  (folks can see if there’s anything I’ve missed 🤓)

NARUHINA ANGST

“A Place In The Sun” by ihaveastorminme - Rated M for smut and depictions of violence, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete.  Naruto realizes that he’s not enough to love her.  He’s not enough to save her, either.

“A Fate Worse than Death” by Caelestia - Rated M for smut, ABO Canon-Divergent, One-shot.  Naruto, improperly socialized and traumatized as a child, rejects his inner Alpha, which has devastating consequences on his family and marriage.  “A Risky Bet” is its fluffier follow-up.

“Girl No 10″ by meeiwen - Rated M, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. Naruto makes a mistake with a dancer one drunk night.  Years later when he meets her again, he begins realizing his perfect life is a lie, but he’s too late to fix it. Angst if you want to know what dying feels like warning.

“if this is love (why does it hurt?)” by ClairvoyantDreamer1011 - Rated M, Friends with benefits Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Hinata knew many things about Naruto Uzumaki. She knew that his heated glances meant ‘I want you’; that lingering touches whispered 'please’, and that the sight of his back to her screamed 'leave’. But she couldn’t tell you what they were to each other for the life of her.

“If You Said You Loved Me” by destiny’s sweet melody - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, One-shot.  Naruto begins to realize he took her feelings for granted and now he’s too late.

“The Ring that Binds” by softwind - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete.  Naruto and Hinata are married.  So why is Naruto calling “Sakura” in his sleep?

“Why would innocent little Hinata be out dressed like that?” (One-shot) and its follow-up “On Any Given Day” (Long One-Shot) by @utsus - Rated T, Canon-Divergent. Hinata tries to move on from Naruto, right when he realizes he wants to keep her.

“For the Future” by @utsus - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Complete. Hinata understands this better than anyone else. Naruto is easy to love.  (I actually just hate the ending a lot.  That’s what puts this on the list).

“Gilded Butterflies” by Kid Crisis - Rated M for depictions of violence, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Tenshi, beautiful prostitute of the Villa, realized from a very young age that people seem to do nothing but empty her, and not even Naruto seems capable of convincing her otherwise.

“Serenity Prayer” by @katarinahime - Rated M for smut, substance abuse, PTSD, and depictions of domestic violence and non-con, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. When their fairytale endings smash to ugly pieces, Hinata and Naruto help put each other back together.

“Common Side Effects” (Naruto’s POV) by @katarinahime & “Medicated” (Hinata’s POV) by @szajnie - Rated E for smut, substance abuse, mental illness, and depictions of violence, self-harm, and attempted suicide, Crime/Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Naruto and Hinata, in a struggling relationship, must confront the pain inside before they can love each other.

“In Another Life” by theGeneralissimo - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Complete. In which Naruto listens to his mother’s advice and marries a girl like her. And lives to regret it.

“Mistake” by Cherry1315 - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Naruto falls apart, and, unfortunately, Hinata has to pick up the pieces.

“Until the Day I Love” by BluBlooThalassophile - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Everyone is recovering from the war.

“Hidden From Sunlight” by @bunny-hoodlum - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. How different could Naruto’s life be when the girl that seemed 'barely around’ is truly hardly around at all?

“Powerless” by @bunny-hoodlum - Rated M for depictions of violence and character death, Mystery/Crime High School/Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. His family’s past can’t be taken at face-value, and it comes clawing back to hurt him in ways that are out of his control. DELETED FIC.

“21 Days” by @bunny-hoodlum - Rated E includes dub-con, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Anonymous internet friends decide to meet up IRL and give each other their first times.

“April - Too Late/Missed Opportunities” from “Still Falling for You” by @chloelapomme - Rated T, College/Modern AU, One-shot. After her 3 years away for college, Naruto decides to confess.

“June - Honor/Sacrifice” from “Still Falling for You” by @chloelapomme - Rated T, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. Naruto marries Hinata, the girl of his dreams.  If only she loved him back.

“you totally almost killed me that one time (it’s okay I still love you)” by @itachiboutit - Rated G, High School AU, Multi-chapter, Complete.  Naruto, a promising baseball player, returns to Konoha Prep, and, without so much as even a “long time no see,” hits a ball into Hinata’s face. (This isn’t really angsty…but I get really upset in Ch. 4 and cry a lot every time.)

“Because I Love You” aka “Arranged Marriage AU Take 2″ (Same fic) by @magmawrites - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, One-shot. A canon divergent fic in which The Last never happened and Hinata Hyuga was promised to another.

“Asylum AU” from “Tales of Two Ninjas” by @magmawrites - Rated M, Modern AU, One-shot. What’s to say what’s real and what isn’t? The only thing that’s valid and true in all universes is their love for one another.

“Dreaming of AU” from “Tales of Two Ninjas” by @magmawrites - Rated M for implied suicide, Modern AU, One-shot. Naruto dreams of her. He grows to love her. Dreams are nice. Too bad reality is a nightmare. (Most likely a continuation of the Asylum AU.)

“Memory Loss AU” from “Tales of Two Ninjas” by @magmawrites - Rated M, Amnesia Canon-Divergent AU, One-shot. I LOVE YOU. Will I ever hear those words from your lips again?

“The Path We Walk” by @tenney-shoes - Rated T, Amnesia Canon-Divergent AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. With his memory of the past five years missing, Naruto never expected to be married to Hinata, and now he must navigate through the maze that is their life together with no memory of how he got there.

“Easier For Me” by @tenney-shoes - Rated T, Amnesia Canon-Divergent AU, Two-shot, Complete. How will Hinata handle waking up with no memory of how she got there?

“My Escape” by @marimare-writes - Rated T, Amnesia Canon-Divergent AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Naruto wakes up from a coma with no recollection of life after graduating the Academy. Hinata, anxious and with a secret that will change both of their lives, struggles with what to do.

“Consolation Prize: Through Her Distorted Mirror” by mysterious intentions - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete.  Her love is taken lightly, as if her heart could change so easily.

“Good Luck” By LovelyLori - Rated T, Flowers/Ballet AU, Two-Shot, Complete. A Japanese ballet company arrives in Naruto’s town.  Can love transcend language barriers? (I spent HOURS looking for this one, it totally breaks my heart.)

“On the outside looking in” by @char-lotteral - Rated E for smut, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Naruto’s in love with his best friend’s girlfriend fiancee.  And he’s not moving on.

“Sincerely, Uzumaki Naruto” by @bkgsbby​ - Rated T, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. After his wife leaves him a week after giving birth to their son, Naruto moves back to Konoha. He adjusts to life as a single father, with the help of his friends and surprisingly, his old crush.

“Road to Redemption” by averagejane497 - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Complete. Naruto’s made a lot of mistakes in his life, especially concerning the women he loves. Maybe this time he can get it right.

“You’re the One” by AnimeloverNUMBA100 - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Complete. After 4 desperate years, Hinata finally asked Naruto out. He decides to give her a chance, but his feelings for Sakura has never faded. Hinata is slowly losing hope as time goes on…and she soon chooses to leave him.

Untitled by @randomprose - Rated G, Canon-Divergent, One-shot. Prompt: Hinata finds out that Naruto told Minato that Sakura is his girlfriend.

“Jitters” by ncfan - Rated T, Canon-Compliant, One-shot. He has her heart but he doesn’t even know it.

“The Red Umbrella” by ncfan - Rated G, Canon-Divergent, One-shot. As the rain hits her, Hinata thinks about what she doesn’t have, and what she’ll never have now.

“Duplicity” by GoldKing - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Uzumaki Sakura wants to know why Hinata’s children are blond.

“My Favorite Night” by @peppercornpresses - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Hinata harbors deeper feelings for Naruto after three years of being his roommate. When he starts dating Sakura, Hinata decides it’s in her heart’s best interest to turn the other way, and leaves Naruto for good with a heart-breaking secret in tow.

“The Loving Type” by @peppercornpresses - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. A few years have passed since the Fourth Shinobi War, in which…Rookie Nine steadily advances in rank. Naruto gets engaged. Hinata leaves Konoha. And Kakashi schemes for days.

“Blurred Lines” by @vegebulsoup - Rated E, Police / Cops and Robbers Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. Detective Naruto Uzumaki is having a hard time staying focused at work due to an elusive, dark-haired beauty.  (Starts off fun and smutty, grows angsty).

“I want you to cry” and its sequel “Road of Tears” by Devahhole - Rated E for graphic murder, dub-con/non-con, and smut, High School AU, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. A sociopath blinded by revenge runs into his greatest opponent.

“Absolute” by @ssa25 - Rated M, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. She was his kind, shy and innocent friend. Until she wasn’t. He was her pure, beautiful and unrequited love. Until he wasn’t.

I’m very glad that you enjoyed my “White Lilies” fic!!  Here’s everything I could think of for you to cry or stress out over.

SAD READING 😢

[elysianslove]

bea I read your event like one minute after you posted it,,,, I feel like a stalker lol CONGRTAS BABE!! I’m so happy you have so much people that follows you, you probably have no idea how many times you was the reason of our smiles!! may I ask for 2am + suna + talking about future? like you know, dreams, what they afraid of etc,,, I think that would be very cute!

once again, congrats love 🤍

omg <3333 i luv u <3333 you’re so sweet pls i luv u <3333 and i hope you like this!

5k Follower Event! — suna rintarō, late night talks  

[2:00 am]

“you smell really good.”

it’s how you know he’s sleepy. suna never really holds back with his commentary, but when he’s fully awake and alert, the compliments that slip off his tongue are more often than not teasing and not exactly rated for all audiences. but this, it’s innocent, granted a little creepy without context, but it’s sweet and soft, and added with the fact that he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his messy hair tickling your skin, it makes your heart spasm in your chest.

he hums again, nose nudging against your neck and lips hovering by your skin. it’s almost as if he were a cat. “what time is it?” he asks, voice gravely and a little hoarse.

“two,” you simply respond, arm coming around to snuggle him closer to you, fingers finding and tangling in his hair. “and thank you.”

“mmm, you’re welcome,” he replies. “‘m gonna steal your shampoo. and your conditioner. and your body wash. lotion too.”

you snicker, shuffling down on the bed so you can lean your cheek against his hair, which is a lot fluffier since drying from his earlier shower. “s’not like you haven’t before,” you retort, and he clicks his tongue, huffing. his breath tickles you, and you shiver lightly. it feels nice, like this. with him in your arms, with only the moon’s light seeping in through the small crack in your curtains. it’s serene. you don’t ever wanna leave.

“can we stay like this forever?” you wonder out loud, and suna chuckles, arms tightening around your middle, head shifting down so that he rests on your collarbone, slightly on your chest.

“read my mind.”

you sigh, fingers twisting further in his soft hair, appreciating the way he nearly purrs at the feel of your hand playing with his strands. “rin,” you start, and he hums, telling you indirectly that he hears you. “what’s your biggest fear?”

he stills in your arms, and it’s almost as if he stops breathing all together, but then he shifts again, and his head lifts up, chin coming to rest on your chest lightly. “want me to say losing you?”

when you roll your eyes, he grins cheekily, lazily, at you. “i’m serious,” you object. “tell me.”

he’s quiet for a moment, as if contemplating, thinking to himself. you’re not sure if he’s thinking of his answer or whether to even tell you. but he decides, eventually, on both. “losing control,” he finally admits, but that’s all he says, and as he does so, his eyes waver, gaze falling from your own momentarily. but then he clears his throat, painting a smile on his face as he meets your eyes again. “what’s yours?”

“i don’t know,” you say. “it’s a little bit of everything, but, i’m always afraid of — afraid of falling asleep — and never waking up again.”

his eyes widen momentarily, and it’s clear he’s taken aback by your words, but then he lifts his head up higher, his hands sliding to meet the mattress by your side, pushing himself up to hover above you. “you’re afraid of death? that’s so lame, babe.” 

you roll your eyes, smacking at his chest lightly. “not of death. of— the unexpected.” 

“hm,” he simply replies, lowering himself to nuzzle his face into your chest again, his entire body laying flat above yours. he does little to alleviate his weight, and it honestly feels like he’s crushing you. but you don’t complain; instead, your arms rise up, and you wrap them around him, cradling his head to your chest. “i think you’ll live forever,” he mumbles, voice muffled by how your shirt presses against his lips. 

“really?” you humor him. “sounds like a curse more than a blessing.” 

“shut up.” his fingers skim past your sides, trailing down until he manages to touch your skin, before he sinks his hands beneath your shirt. “you will.” 

you chuckle lightly, allowing his hands to tread higher, your own finding their way back to tangling in his hair again as you say, “will you live forever with me?” 

you feel him nod. “who else would tolerate you for that long?” he jokes, and you groan loudly, tugging at his hair in annoyance. he laughs, loud and carefree and genuine, at your reaction, and you sneak a glimpse at it when his head if lifted from your pull. but he settles again, cheek squished against your chest, hands now splayed on your back, his arms encompassing and embracing you fully. 

“love you rin,” you quietly add, just as his breathing steadies. “even if you’re an ass.” 

he scoffs, laughs tiredly, before replying, “love you too, my forever.” 

your heart spasms again. 

[saturnsstufff]

The Empress- Darker the Weather // Better the Man

Warnings: topics from the empress, Violence

Sarah laid on the makeshift cot. Lately with how everything had been pulled out, the war seemed like it had no end. Her eyes danced dully well her fingers fiddled with the locket from her lovers. Tears easily welled her eyes at the thought of them waiting for her.

Distant, everything is scattered

She missed them, she missed them more than she thought she truly would. The way their fingers danced warmly around her locks. Or how mornings were spent wrapped up tightly within her wives arms, the cold artic air contrasting to the warm blankets. She just missed the softness of the lingering moments.

When your mind is shattered and torn apart

She knew the war wouldn't last forever, yet with every passing day, it seemed the ending was fading. Sarah knew she shouldn't be mad at Technoblade or (y/n), but she couldn't help it.

Maybe it started with (y/n), the way she clinged and lulled the grand emperor into a false sense of pride. She easily Loathed that. Everyone within the empire assumed the Emperor was in control, but Sarah- being the general, knew exactly who had the power.

In an instant, I can be indifferent

But could she really bring herself to hate her? After all she was pregnant with the Emperor's baby as of currently.

She knew she shouldn't, yet it was so easy...

When she walked into the tent to see the Grand Emperor packing his things- it left her seething. He was going to leave them- leave his troops- his people- people who gave so much in hopes to end the conflict quickly. Technoblade should have known others were missing important family events, yet here they stood, proudly serving under his name.

The blame is always shifted from the start

And it was all because She, called- begged, him to come home.

She couldn't linger about any longer, she needed to distract herself. So grabbing a cloak she left the base camp, although some of the men asked about where she was leaving too. Sarah simply wiped her eyes with pride and assured them of her return.

Leafless treetops in the snow

Views of death and bitter cold

The walk towards the nearby village was a bore. Due to the cold, barely any animals found home within the snow, anymore Sarah was starting to see the appeal of moving somewhere warmer.

Instead of visiting a bakery or a warm café, Sarah found herself wondering into a bar. Perusal, only the odd were within the warm walls. Brute men and sly women hogging up around the bar.

Without a step of hesitance she took her seat at the bar, the two brooding men beside her looked as if they should have scared her off. Yet when they tried to comment on Sarah's seat she simply sent a cold glare. Towards them, a wordless death threat of silence.

When the men backed off, they ultimately decided to move seats completely. In turn a younger gentleman took their seats.

Sarah didn't acknowledge him, something seemed off about it, yet she couldn't place her finger quite on it. The man took a glance to her, his fluffier Blonde hair radiating a familiar tone.

"You seemed troubled..." the man purred, sending Sarah into a eyeroll. Typical men. She thought, knowing exactly where this was leading.

"Don't think like that." The man said, his green eyes flashing slightly as a warning. "I'm only here to hear out a strangers problem... I'm hear to help." He mused.

Although Sarah was offset and held the high urge to not tell a thing to this man. Something told her it was worth it. She needed to get it off her chest.

So she did.

And through that, she felt her nerves lessen. With layer, and layer dropped about Technoblade, his wife, his family, everything. She felt a silver lining.

Something that should have stuck out to her however, was when she went on about Technoblade, the Man seemed to just know everything about him. Even things she didn't know- things that seemed future related. It was odd.

Yet here she found herself, drink in hand, explaining her problems to a lost man at a bar. Through the end of her rant, the only thing he had to say was "Men are hard, but im sure you've herd it before..." at the line she shrugged and looked to her glass.

The swirling bourbon within held her reflection, but something eerier about it, was when she glanced to the man inside the glass. The reflection, although looking exactly like the man beside her, when looking closer she saw halo's crossing over his face, Golden beams of bended light.

When she looked back to the man, he was looking at her unamused. "You know, there is a saying out there, that you may find, useful..." the man said.

You can take all you want, but not who I am

"What is the saying..." Sarah asked cautiously, now alarmed from the mans reflection. She watched the man take a drink before smiling- almost sinisterly.

"The Darker the Weather, the Better the Man" he said. Sarah gave a odd look to him, not understanding, but it didn't take long for the man to elaborate. "Say something hardens the man your talking about. Something that will truly drive him cold. He may turn out better than you expected. After all, weaklings rarely survive war." The man said casually.

The line rang around inside Sarah's mind, what could make techno so cold, that he refused to go home. The man watched her, trying his best to hide the wicked smile he held.

But the darker the weather, the better the man

And then it hit her. Almost like sheer brilliance, it hit her dead on.

You can take all you want, but not who I am

The letters to you.

You can't have my-

When Wilbur was tasked with waking you up, it was easy to say he was always overjoyed. With techno being absent from your side, Wil always tried his best to make you smile. Sometimes even Tommy would tag along.

Of course, Tommy didn't understand the severity of the moment how heartbroken and lost you felt, but he could easily tell you were sad at the least. So he also tried to cheer you up.

Sun shines through an open window

So on days he woke you, he would often run into Technoblade room, your silhouette laying within the oversized bed. He often viewed it as misplaced for how lonely your body looked.

But that didn't ever stop him from pulling the curtains open, the light rarely shined brightly through the glass, but in the end it did allow more light within. Well Wilbur pulled the curtains, tommy would often bounce on your bed, doing his best to make you smile.

Close the curtains real slow to hide the light

Although you would hide your face and try to hide, tommy wouldn't stop his smiling and joyful laugh. Yet Wilbur would always watch how your eyes would linger to techno's side of the bed. Wilbur hadn't seen the letters between you and techno, but he always saw how they tore you up. Whatever he was saying was hurting you, and Wilbur despised it.

But in time, maybe I can change it

At the least Wilbur was thankful you had Orion beside you, he was able to calm most of your haywire nerves. Of course, Wilbur never liked how close he was to you. But, he understood it was a time where you just needed someone.

We'll find someone who feels the same as me

Wilbur saw how you tried to hide your pain, your long nights spent crying, the days you refused to eat, the way you refused to acknowledge techno's lost presence. It was obvious who you were not on good terms.

Wilbur couldn't help his curiosity, he knew it was wrong, yet he did it anyway. When you had left your office for bed Wilbur snuck in, it was the first time he was in Technoblade office alone. The sword you made held high on the wall, truthfully it was poetic.

On a plaque underneath it, was lettering inscribed "the Empress" like the embodied empress, the sword similarly hung alone. With care he slid into your chair, slowly pulling the letters out to read.

You broke me down and stole my soul

And oh was his pissed. For good reason, he saw why everyone was so upset with him.

Left me vacant and all alone

Out of everyone, Orion was the one to see you at your worst. Never had he assumed he would have been so close to someone that he would have gave everything to take your pain away. It left his blood boiling to see you hurt the way you were.

Months of being alone, feeling lost, unloved, unwelcomed. It truly left him with a burning hate. Orion knew he could treat you so much better, that he could take care and provide for you and your infant child.

Over the time techno was gone, he felt he was the only commander to truly hate his leader. Hate what he puts others through, he hated the sorrow he brought along.

But the darker the weather, the better the man

But nothing compared to the pure rage Orion felt when he herd what techno did to you. When you all rested at Foolish's summer home, you didn't lay with techno right off the bat, instead you explained what happened between techno and you.

And Orion was livid.

Techno had put his hands on you- had put his hands on your throat. Orion felt every bone in his body scream to get even. No one raises a hand to those they love, it was just a unspoken law. Orion would have taken to Technoblade as well, only thing holding him back was your tender soft words.

"Please don't- please Orion... let it stay between us..." you begged to him. Soft doe eyes pleading to the Enderian.

You can take all you want, but not who I am

Although it gnawed at Orion’s heart, he respected your call and left it lie. But that didn't stop what fallowed.

With the Enderian's blood flowing strong with rage, emotion, and the urge to defend, he couldn't help the way his eyes slit with the dragons hue, the blood curdling purple that drove fear into those around him.

You were far down the hall, everyone was asleep, it was a perfect time to let everything go.

You can't have my

And go he did..

He had never felt it, even though his blood ran with the Enderian's, he had never felt his anger hit the point of breaking.

The point that others forewarned him about. The point where his jaw would dislocate and his skin would tear open to allow the canines of a monster to show.

It wasn't a side he thought he had.

You can't have my

Yet when the thought laced through his mind again. The thought of techno putting his hands on you, he felt the pop, and the blinding rage that fallowed. Throwing the nearest object as he let the curdling scream out.

You can't have my soul

When techno undressed for the night, he couldn't explain the shame and hurt that he felt. He couldn't meet his own gaze within the mirror. He knew you were willing to bathe with him again. Lay for the night and try and wish it to be what it once was.

But he knew he Hurt you. He knew it wasn't his direct doing, but he was involved- he took it too far.

He could still see the nail marks from where you grabbed his face, he hoped it wasn't the same for your neck.

He didn't deserve you.

He knew it. The way he lashed and you too willing asked him to bathe with you like it was over. You taking his hands, his face his body into your hands, you were truly too wonderful. To amazing for him.

But the darker the weather, the better the man

When you stepped into the bathroom he saw your tired eyes, your arms firmly around Thena. He saw how attached you were to her. She was your world, she was the world techno wanted to live with.

Techno knew he had no right to ask to hold her, not after what he had done to his tiny family. Yet he couldn't help but want to feel you and her in his arms. He wanted to redeem himself and show you he was worthy enough to protect you both.

You can take all you want, but not who I am

After all he was still your husband and her father in the end, it was his job, his one thing he cannot mess up. He knew others were on the line. Others more important than a endless battalion, you were his wife, his life, the mother of his daughter.

You were his world.

But the darker the weather, the better the man

So from that day, he swore. Dare anyone lay a hand on his wife, and daughter. He would raise hell upon them.

He would never loose you too like he almost did.

You can take all you want, but not who I am

[dazaimency]

Under Your Guidance, I Fell in Love - Prologue

You can find future chapters on my AO3! Here, I’ll only post the prologue. I hope you will enjoy my new Shigaraki x Reader project! Gonna be a long one, and to summarise it in tags: slow burn, angst, lov as family, it will get worse before it gets better

Shigaraki x Reader / Prologue

Trained and raised to make sure you fulfill your Master's wishes, you are sent on a mission to make Shigaraki Tomura fall in love with you and grow into the leader he is supposed to be. Soon after joining the League of Villains, complications arise.

AO3 LINK: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33437170/chapters/83061598

--

“Your mission is about to commence, darling,” a cold, deep voice echoes from behind you. Shivers avoid you after years of training and you turn around to come face to face with your Master.

“Of course. The meeting point hasn't changed, I assume?”

All for One only nods and hands you a black sport bag. It's filled with various clothes, hygiene objects, and with some little personal belongings that will soon belong to you and your established persona.

“Go be his guidance, my dear. Make me proud,” you nod and put on a smile. Your mimic muscles fall easily into the practice move. Turning around, you glimpse at All for One for one last time before both of you disappear into the night.

--

It rains heavily as you enter the bar accompanied by Giran. You let out an exhale once you cross the threshold, only to breathe in the stale air from the room. You aren't even fully inside yet and the atmosphere is heavy.

According to your Master, Shigaraki Tomura had already recruited two other members, and even if they did end up in the organization, their rapport was anything but friendly. Toga was too eccentric and Dabi had no problem letting his mouth run as it pleased, ending up in a quarrel between him and your target.

This meeting was supposed to go smoothly, to calm down both Shigaraki Tomura and the new recruits. They needed at least some form of stability and friendly manners that could eventually grow into comradery. And you would do everything in your powers to ensure that the next hour will go swimmingly.

You shake off the water from your coat as you take it off, faking a nervous smile in Giran's direction. After all, you were supposed to be the local murderous sweetheart. Well, at least as much of a sweetheart that a villain could be. More like a nice healer that hates heroes and will do anything to help the fight against them.

Giran nodded and guided you further inside while lighting a cigarette. The door opens with a crack, revealing a dim light of the bar. Kurogiri, the mist man, is standing behind the bar, polishing spotless looking glasses. He seems to be talking in a hushed voice to your target. You can only see his lean figure covered in a black shirt. As expected, he has his family on him.

You quickly take control of your hitched breath. Shigaraki Tomura looks different from the photos you had seen. Even with his back turnt, you notice his slimness and pale hair that actually looks fluffier. It may not feel bad to run your hand through them, you wonder.

The broker lets out a puff before he speaks, not waiting for him to turn around. “Shigaraki, this is (L/N) (Y/N). The healer you asked for. Her criminal record is basically spotless, but that doesn't really mean anything, does it? She can heal you, and herself, and she hates heroes as much as the next guy. I can only assume she will make a fine admission to the team,” he finishes his monologue before smirking at you and going off to the corner.

You take a deep breath, trying not to cringe. Before you can open your mouth, Shigaraki Tomura straightens his back, effectively making you wait like a good subject-to-be. He looks at you over his shoulder. Father still in place as crimson eyes scan over your body, judging your frame.

He scoffs and returns to his glass, one finger carefully circling the edge. “So, how does your quirk work?”

“I can accelerate cell regeneration to restore missing limbs or heal wounds. It works on other people as…”

“Missing limbs, you say?” he finishes his drink as he interrupts you, putting the glass down with a strong thud. You wait for him to continue but even with his face facing the other way, you can say he is deep in thought. Shigaraki Tomura’s fingers braze the hands of his dead relatives until they settle on Father. Gently, it is put down next to the glass.

Suddenly, he turns around to get off the stool and straightens, standing in full height in front of you. You remember his height, weight, and every little detail that is known about him from your files but nothing could prepare you to meet him face to face. His features were softer, a sparkling contrast to the strained expressions he always wore on photos.

The depth of Tomura’s red eyes gained an edge, erasing all softness. Or maybe there never was one to begin with. You realized he was expecting an answer, a slight test on how you managed confrontation.

A wave of confusion ran through you, carefully hidden from your face. You saw the tape of how the recruitment went while preparing for your debut. Mentioning Stain or All Might was a big no-no, unless you wanted to be decayed faster than you could heal, but after the outburst with Toga and Dabi, you expected to find yourself in a similar situation. However, it looked like the manchild was able to actually put some thought into this.

“Yes, sir,” you quickly respond, pushing your chin forward. Before you can elaborate a sharp, unbearable pain starts to cruise through your veins. You let out a scream as you watch your left hand disappear into nothingness. Your life and Master have given you a fair share of pain but nothing could prepare you for the phantom of your limb.

His hand moves away before the decay spreads but the agony stays the same. In horror, you realise you are standing in the puddle of your own blood as he slides back to the chair. Drops of blood fall down in an uneven rhythm from what stayed from your arm. “Heal it then, if you can.”

You want to spit at him, kick him and yell insults, but the sharp voice of your Master in your head reminds you of your mission. And for it, Shigaraki Tomura must, unfortunately, stay alive, and you in his good graces.

Still, you let out a few curses as you focus on your left arm. It takes a few moments before the healing itch registers in your brain over the pain, and soon, you flex your fingers, cracking a few knuckles when it grows back.

You should have expected an outburst like this but you didn’t think you would ever come to harm, not after yesterday Kurogiri stopped everyone from killing each other. Maybe he was too slow to react this time, or rather, Shigaraki Tomura convinced him beforehand not to. From what you knew about his current caretaker and portal man, he was more compassionate than the rest of the villains. Still, ignoring your professionalism, you glare at him and your target as you uncomfortably flex your hand.

Shigaraki Tomura looks as unimpressed as always when he puts Father back onto his face. A low groan and an exhale escapes him once it’s set in place. Tension that you hadn’t noticed before seemed to evaporate from him.

“She may be useful after all, Giran. Sort the payment out with Kurogiri, I’m leaving,” with these words, he sets off to a long hall, not bothering to look at anyone in the room. You can only bite your tongue and remember your Master’s words. You were trained to handle him, take care of him, and a few days back you were fully confident you would fulfill All for One’s wishes, but after spending a few minutes in your target’s presence, the harsh reality only laughed at your hopes. Making Shigaraki Tomura fall in love with you and grow up certainly wasn’t going to be easy.

[writingsbychlo]

let me down slow (05)

word count; 8368

summary; mitch finally gets to take you out on a date, and you have an important discussion, confessions from both of you.

notes; y’all are going to love this part, their date is just adorable.

warnings; smut, unprotected sex, slight cum play, that’s about it.

You weren’t used to Mitch’s car pulling up in broad daylight, the middle of the day with the worry that someone might see the two of you. Either, you pulling him into the house with a fistful of whatever jumper he was wearing that day, or him taking your hand and pulling you out of your house and toward his car needily before you’d barely even had a chance to close the door.

Today, you wanted to do exactly that, but for entirely different reasons. 

You watched as he walked up the driveway, dressed a little more presentable than usual. The messy hair he often wore, and always wore so well, was styled up, freshly washed and fluffier than usual, something you suspected was up to blow-drying, instead of the slightly wavy curls that normally took over on the longer mop at the top of his head, and your fingers itched to run through the softer looking tresses. 

The skinny jeans you were used to, but his dirty sneakers had been traded for the cleanest pair of black shoes he owned, a pair you’d seen sitting in his closet, ‘rarely worn but brought out for special occasions’ he’d told you. A dark blue henley on his upper arms that clung to his chest in all the right places and you were absolutely certain he knew exactly what it was that he was doing to you, the outfit no doubt picked with care to be formal but drive you a little insane over the course of the evening. 

His jacket was slung over his arm, a lightweight black layer for later in the night, and you watched as he shuffled his arm a little, adjusting the jacket before he was disappearing from your sight, and only a second later, he was knocking at the front door. Hopping down from your windowsill, you snatched up your boots from the floor and took them with you, swiping your bag from the dresser as you passed it, and making your way down the stairs, taking a second to catch your breath before you were swinging the door open to greet him.

“Hi.” 

He grinned, eyes scanning down along your body slowly, before he was looking back up to you, his eyes twinkling a little. “You’re wearing the jumper I gave you. On our date.”

“You didn’t tell me what we were doing, so I figured I could go half and half. I’m casual with the jumper, but I figured the skirt dresses it up a bit, and then the boots can be either, so..” 

You knew you were spewing out nerve-induced rambling, but you were nervous. It was a date, with a really attractive man who for whatever reasons he had was very much into you, and you felt the same about him, and it was different to the other dates you’d been on. 

Going to dinner with someone you vaguely know is fine, because you can exchange small talk and ask questions like ‘what is your favourite colour?’ and ‘what are your plans for the future?’ but this was entirely different. If things didn’t work out with them, it didn’t matter because you weren’t losing much, but if for any reason this date went badly, you were losing Mitch, and you weren’t sure if you could handle that.

“You look beautiful.”

You let out a sigh at his words, giving him a smile, before stepping out of the doorway and letting him inside while you put your shoes on. You’d never really bothered with your outfit to see Mitch in before, because it usually ended up on the floor within a few seconds of being together. 

“I brought you something.” Glancing up from where you were doing up the laces on the front of your shoes, he shifted his jacket out of the way, the crinkling of plastic soon being followed by a small bouquet of flowers, your jaw dropping as the brightly colourful bundle was revealed to you. “Kat always used to get at me about not being romantic enough, and I know it seems like a little much for a first date, but I thought you’d like them.”

“I love them, they’re amazing.” You took them from his hands, the stare lingering between the two of you as heat crawled up his cheeks a little, and you leaned in to press a simple kiss to his cheek, before taking the collection through to the kitchen, and you heard him shuffle through to follow you. Silence hung in the air as you filled up a vase, arranging the flowers neatly within and placing it down on the counter, fingers stroking over one of the petals. “I can put them upstairs in my room later.”

He nodded, his face lighting up a little bit, but then that silence was back, and you wiggled your hands a little by your sides, opening and closing them in fists, before he was holding his own out to you, clearing his throat a little as he offered his hand, and you only hesitated for a second before placing your hand into his, fingers wrapping around his palm as he did the same to you. 

“This is tense, right? It’s not just me feeling that?”

“It’s incredibly fucking awkward.” He let out a dry laugh, but the rigidity in his body slipped away a little and he shook himself off. “I haven’t had to do the whole first date thing in like five years and it’s just.. strange. It feels weird.”

“If it makes you feel any better, there’s really nothing I can think of that would make me not want to go on a date with you, and there’s nothing that I think would make me not want to know you. We kind of have an advantage.” His brows raised a little at your words, and that same playful energy was coming back between you both, sparking at the air and changing the tension into more of a sparkling chemistry. 

“An advantage?”

“Yeah, I mean, think of it this way: you already know I’d be happy doing anything with you, even if we just drive around and get milkshakes, like other nights. Plus, you already know you’re going to get some action at the end of it, and you know I already like you. Those are like, the three big first date worries, and you’re already in the clear.”

“Y’know, I didn’t think of it that way. Can we start over then?”

“I would love that.” You promised, and he grinned, adjusting his hand in you own to lace your fingers together properly, before tugging you closer to him and bumping his nose against your own, teasing you a little as the tips rubbed together slowly, and he let out the breath he was holding in a long sigh. “Hi kitten, you look fuckin’ gorgeous.”

He leaned in, pressing his lips to your own in a slow kiss before he was bringing his other hand up to circle around your waist, pulling you up to press you into his chest, and you held onto him tightly, hands smoothing along from his forearms and up to his biceps until you reached his shoulders rubbing slowly as he let out wanton little sounds of satisfaction into your mouth, before he was finally pulling away.

“I figured we could do something casual, I didn’t want us to have to do anything too fancy, that felt like a lot of pressure.”

“I’m not a fancy kind of gal, I don’t own the kind of outfits you wear to restaurants where you have to book two months in advance and wine is only sold by the bottle and costs a month’s bills per glass.” He grinned at your words, tugging you along towards the door as you grabbed your bag, swinging it up onto your shoulder and pausing to lock the house, before letting him guide you down to the car. 

“So, what do you think about dinosaur-themed mini-golf and then going to a diner after?”

He started up the car as you buckled yourself in, your head snapping up to look at him with wide eyes and a smile that could light up a room. “Did you just say dinosaur-themed mini-golf?”

“I found this cool little place just out of town. It has miniature waterfalls, a volcano that erupts and these mechanical dinosaurs that look great.” He confirmed, and you pressed your face into your hands to mask your excitement, your whole body all but vibrating with sheer giddy thrill. He reached over to pull one of your hands down and away from your face, holding onto it tightly as he pulled your hand across to sit in his lap, his thumb smoothing over the back of your hand as he held onto it tightly. “So, I’m assuming I made a good call, then?”

“The best call! Like, ever! Holy shit, I can’t wait. Can you take pictures with the dinosaurs?”

“There’s even one where you can climb up so it looks like you’re riding a t-rex. I googled it very intensely to make sure it was right.” Your jaw dropped, you hand squeezing around his so tightly you swore he’d drop it, but he just he'd on with his own strength instead.

“This is going to be the best first date in the history of first dates.” He laughed at your words, turning to look at you for only a second, before he was turning up the music, the playlist the two of you had been working on was already playing, and you settled back into the seat, the lyrics already flowing from you as you sang out the words, and he did the same.

Pulling up to ‘dino-golf’, you were already practically bursting at the seams with excitement as you hopped down and out of the car, looking around at the environment. A song that was eerily familiar to the Jurassic Park theme tune was playing out over the speakers of the carpark and you could hear the waterfalls and laughs of the other people on the course, just across the lot and on the other sides of some fences. 

The top of the volcano was visible, lighting up with orange as it rumbled lowly, clearly building up to its explosion but not having reached it yet, and Mitch made his way around to the side of the car towards you, pressing his lips to your temple and wrapping an arm around your waist. Guiding you up to the front desk, you swiped a leaflet on your way, tucking it into your bag as you moved through the lobby, and curled into his side a little, cherishing the fact that you were allowed to do so, and an intoxicating rush of excitement shot along your spine at the idea that someone was going to see the two of you together, and that it was okay.

She didn’t even blink twice, taking a payment from Mitch as he handed over his card, before giving you both the clubs from behind the desk, a paper wristband to put on and a small pencil and score sheet, before sending you over to the doors, on the other side of which you could pick out the colour of golf ball you wanted to use. Stepping out of the way of those in the queue behind you both, you balanced your club under your arm as he held the paper strip out to you with a bashful smile, and you peeled the plastic off of it and sealed it onto his skin, allowing him to do the same for you.

Stepping through the main doorways and back outside, your feet hit artificial grass, a member of staff greeting you almost immediately, and offering you a basket of multicoloured golf balls, and you picked out an orange one, matching it to the colour on your jumper, and he followed with pale blue, before you were guided in the direction of the first hole and told to follow the arrows. 

You had decided to go first, placing the ball on the marked little ‘x’ at the beginning, the first hole being simple enough and straight ahead, a little green flag sticking out of it, with a dinosaur fact printed on that you could read once you went over. It only took you two hits to get it to its destination, and you were overly proud of yourself, your ego feeling boosted, before watching Mitch swiftly do it in one, a smirk on his face as you stuck your tongue out at him, your boasting cut off. 

“Kitten, I literally got a scholarship for sports, I play lacrosse, I have an edge here.”

“You’re just irrationally good at all things involving balls.” Your words had been huffed out, before he was scooping both up from the little basket that had caught them, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you in close to him.

“I don’t know, I’d say you’re pretty good with balls too. I mean, you’re certainly good with m-” His words were cut off by a laugh as you clamped a hand over his mouth, staring at him in shock, before breaking out into your own giggles, despite your attempts to hide them, and his next statement was muffled behind your hand as he spoke, the two of you moving on to the next one, and you removed your hand and allowed him to repeat himself. “I said that maybe if you’re lucky later on, I’ll let you win with some other balls.”

“Yeah, well, I always win at that game.”

You scoffed, writing down your scores onto the sheet before lining yourself up for the second shot, and before you could shoot, he was directing your gaze back to his, his mouth meeting yours for a quick but sweet kiss, that soon became deep enough that you dropped your club in order to hold onto him, his own hands dropping what they held so that he could grip your waist tightly, pulling you into him further and further until your bodies were pressed together. “I think I win that one too, because I get to be with you, and nothing tops that.”

“You’re ridiculously cheesy. What happened to the moody Mitch who barely spoke to me unless he had to, and just thought I was his brother's annoying best friend?” You flicked the tip of his nose, grinning when his face scrunched up a little, before you were pulling away to pick up all the equipment you had discarded, before someone caught up behind the pair of you and made you hurry. This was enough pressure as it was, but you couldn't deal with an audience. 

Lips brushed your ear as you lined yourself up for the next shot, and you paused, waiting to hear what he had to say and you pressed back into him a little. “He found an awesome chick, and realised that she was so much more than the girl he thought she was.”

Shaking your head fondly, you made your shot, watching as the ball went way beyond its destination, bounding off of the small wall at the other side, and you pouted, watching for where it would roll to. To your great surprise, it inched closer and closer to the hole, and seemingly seemed to slow as it approached, and for a second you thought it would stop just shy of falling in, but it didn’t, and you held your hands up in a loud cheer, turning to the man behind you to see that he was wearing an equally proud smile, holding his free hand up to high-five you upon making the shot. 

“I knew you could do it. You’re a pro, already.”

“You’re going to jinx it.” Your words came out in a sing-song tone as you walked over to the other side, watching as he took his own shot, perfectly making it on the first try, and you wondered if he was going to make every shot a hole-in-one. 

The two of you moved on, and around the tenth hole of the course, he caved to your asks to help, the insists that you should do it alone to feel proud were dropped the second you pouted and bent over a little further than necessary, you skirt riding up at the back, and he was more than happy to stand behind you and help you adjust your aim and stance if it meant that nobody else would be seeing anything that he deemed for his eyes only. Not that it gave much assistance to your skill, you were still all over the place with the pressure of your swings and the angles you hit at, but you had fun, and that was all that mattered.

It was also incredibly enthralling to watch Mitch each time, once you had notice the way his fingers flexed instinctually around the metal pipe, or the way his eyes narrowed a little bit when he prepared to shoot, the way he nibbled on his lip in concentration and how the veins in his arms that drove you wild were flashed to you when he pushed his sleeves up to his elbows halfway around. He was like a walking work of art, and he didn’t even know it.

He didn’t make every shot the first time, but he never exceeded needing more than four, even on the rounds that were taking you over ten hits to achieve each time, and he rewarded you with mumbled praises each time you got it, the open affections being something you knew you could find yourself getting used to. You liked not having to hide with him now, you liked that when you noticed another girl’s gaze lingered on him that you could lean in and press a kiss to his lips that he would reciprocate without question, or that when he did something that made your heart flutter a little bit, you could take his hand in you own and he would hold onto you tightly.

All you had wanted for so long was to have someone to give your love to, who would give it back and more, and now you felt like you’d finally found that. You watched the volcano erupt on the hour, water pouring from it and made to look orange by brought lights that shone underneath and out from the base, and you took a picture in front of it, the sky behind you lit up with shades of orange and the drops of water that had fired into the air raining down around you. You took pictures with all of the animations, and with Mitch, and a fair few of him while he wasn’t looking, a collection you could save for yourself, the small and genuine smiles he got each time you cheered him on for getting the shot, or when he was watching you make your own, not realising there was a camera on him while his eyes were on the ball.

A wave of sadness flashed over you at the idea that you couldn't post the images anywhere, you couldn’t profess your adoration for him to the people who really mattered, to your friends and family, without fear of it getting back to Stiles before you were ready to tell him, but at least you had them, the memories of the two of you to be saved forever to your phone, until the day came for you to either delete them, or share them with the world. You really did hope it was the latter choice that would come into play.

It was near the end of the course that you found the giant t-rex that you could take pictures atop of, and he chuckled at the gasp of excitement you let out, your hand finding his upper arm as you squeezed excitedly, and the next few holes seemed to simultaneously drag on while flying by, and you knew you’d completely bombed on all three of them, but you couldn’t help it, and your scores weren’t going to be winning any prizes anyway. Upon reaching the base of it, you peered around the back, finding a set of steps that you could climb up to reach the top, before turning around to look at the man before you, and he waved his phone at you, already out and on the camera app as he prepared to snap the picture of you. 

“Get on up there, I’ll get a good shot.” You turned to look back at it, humming under your breath as you stared up at the giant statue,

“You think we can get someone else to take it, baby? I want us both on it.” When you didn’t get a reply from him, you turned around to find him staring at you intently, and your brows shot up in silent question. “You don’t have to take a picture with me up there, I just thought it would be fun i-”

“You called me ‘baby’.”

You paused, looking at him for a second to face him more fully, before clearing your throat and trying to ignore the blush rising on your cheeks at the pet name you’d barely even processed having said, the word just slipping out with the sentence. 

“That’s the first time you’ve ever given me a nickname.” He pressed in close to you, cupping your cheeks and pressing an eager and passionate kiss to you lips that had you melting into him as he laughed breathlessly into your mouth at the way you repeated it to him, the exchange intimate and private and utterly perfect given the timing, before he was resting his forehead against your own and taking quick puffs of breath. “I absolutely want to take a picture on that fuckin’ dinosaur with you, let me just go and give someone my phone.”

He was dashing away from you a second later, jogging down towards a couple on the next course, and you made your way up the steps to the little platform out of photo-sight behind it. There was a ledge to sit on, definitely only designed for one person, but you’d make it work, you were determined too, and after a few moments, he was appearing at the top of the steps beside you, eyes locking on the small seat.

“Huh.”

“We can make it work.” He nodded, navigating himself around you until he was sitting on it, before guiding you down into his lap, the two of you positioning until you were squeezed onto the chair, but fit comfortably, looking down at the woman standing with the phone at the base, taking a few steps back to get it all fitted in for you, before she was shooting you a thumbs up. The man with her, whom you assumed to be her husband from the playful way they bickered over the angle, held up his fingers in a count down for you both, and you smiled widely, holding your hands up in the air above you as the picture was taken. 

She took a few more, before others were waiting for their chance to get a picture, and so you stepped down from it, thanking the two of them when they handed the device back, and they headed back over to their own section of the course to continue their game, and you did the same, but not before looking through all of the shots and choosing the ones that were your favourites, each of you sharing the photos from your device with each other, until you had copies of every shot from throughout the evening.

Once you reached the end, you were adding up your scores, finding that Mitch had less than a quarter of what you did, the staff member at the end informing you that he may actually have broken a record and that he would be put on the leaderboard if he asked at front desk, and you were absolutely determined to make sure he did. 

It turned out he had, and was now being placed as third on the Top Ten board they had out, giving you a mock glare as he filled out a little form with his score, and his name on, and some details for next time while she printed him off a certificate from the machine. You looked around the waiting room, finding a photobooth tucked into the back with Jurassic themed greenscreen backgrounds, fishing into your purse for extra change as you stood near it pushing the coins into the machine and selecting your background choice, but not starting up yet. 

He came walking back over, face a little red as he gripped his certificate and had a badge in his hand that said ‘I am a dino-golf legend’ on, and you cracked up at the sight of it. He rolled his eyes, opening your bag where it hung at your side hiding the piece of paper and the plastic award inside. 

“You are the absolute worst.” He grouched, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, laughing lightly, and he continued to frown at you, but wrapped his own around you in return, tipping his head to the side when you leaned in to kiss at his cheek, and you felt the pull of the skin indicating he was smiling, even if he did pretend to be mad. “I did get a voucher though, we get free entry next time.”

“Next time?”

“If you want to come again, that is.” He showed you the waxed piece of paper, before adding that to those in your bag and sealing it up, accepting the kiss you gave him as you nodded. 

“I would love that. But, before we leave this time, we have to take photobooth pictures. It has backgrounds.”

“Backgrounds, huh? Can’t miss that.” He crowded you into the box, and arm over your shoulders as you pressed into his sides, and you clicked go on the machine, the countdown beginning as you posed. It was exactly as romantically cliché as you’d hoped. You posed for the first two, before feeling his nose nudging at your cheek in the third, and his hand on your jaw turning your head to the side for a kiss at the camera click went off. 

The sounds of cogs turning and photo developing sounded out, but with the curtain pulled and a moment of privacy to yourselves, you allowed yourself to press back into him a little deeper, your tongue dipping out to play with his before he even had to ask, the lingering taste of mint on his tongue, and you were more than happy to indulge in it, letting yourself get lost, until you heard the click of the photos dropping down to be collected, and you forced yourself to pull back from him. 

Pushing back the curtain and climbing out, you grabbed the set of four, holding it up to show him as he followed behind you, the two of you making your way back towards the car as you observed the pictures you’d taken.

“Look at that, now we’ve made out in a Triassic jungle. Don’t you feel accomplished?”

“You’re such a little weirdo, I love it.” He muttered, nuzzling at your temple before holding open the car door for you and letting you hop up and inside. You pushed the picture card into a piece of the framework on the dash, watching it hold steady, and brushing your fingers over the plain bit outside of each frame, loving the way it sat there, making it all feel a little more personalised. “Can I keep them?”

“Yeah, you can keep them in your car, or your wallet, or whatever.” You waved at them, strapping yourself in and watching as he sat up enough to pull his wallet from his pocket, before selecting them. Tearing the paper in half, he tucked the final two into his wallet, leaving the first two goofy ones up in the place you’d left them, showing it to you with a grin. 

“How about both?”

“I can’t believe you’ve got a picture of us in your wallet, that’s deep.” You teased, and he thumbed at them adoringly before putting it away and digging out his keys instead, starting up the car. 

“So, you hungry?”

When Mitch had said diner, he really meant it. It wasn’t the city kind of diner that was more like a restaurant, the ones that pretended to be but actually had an elite menu with four courses and everything you’d expect from someone fancy, but this was a diner.

It had a small menu that mostly consisted of greasy and fast to cook foods, a range of breakfast meals that could be served at any time of the day, and it still had a sixties theme lingering about it despite the efforts to redo it, the history was still shining clear underneath. It was perfect, everything from the checkered floor to the leather booths, you were loving it, settling down happily to pour over the menu and decide what you wanted to eat.

“The burgers here are amazing. I always stop here for food when I’m on my way too or from college.”

“You stop here? It’s only, like, an hour out of town.”

“Best food for miles, though, and it’s just kind of a tradition now. Maybe in fall, we’ll be driving together, and I can share it with you.” He reached out across the table, taking your hand in his and pulling it across the table towards him, your other hand coming up to hold onto his as well, and you laced your fingers together, menus temporarily forgotten.

“Have you ever shared your tradition with anyone else?”

The question hung heavily between you both, and the movement of his thumb over the back of your hand paused for a second as he looked at you, swallowing thickly and ducking his eyes for only a second. “I’ve never brought anyone here before. Everything I do with you is totally brand new, I promise.” You let out a relieved breath, nodding for a second, and he stood up, leaning over the table to press a kiss to your lips before sinking back down into his seat, and taking his menu in both hands. “You’re not a replacement, or a substitute for her. I like you for you, and I wasn’t looking to get feelings for someone else while I came home but I did, and I like that you and me happened while I was being myself, so I don’t have to pretend with you.”

Your heart skipped a beat, even if he didn’t look up at you as he said those words but you knew he was hanging on your response, and you stretched your feet out under the table, nudging your foot was his and tangling your legs together. “Just so you know, you’re not a replacement for what I felt for your brother.”

“Felt, or feel?”

The question felt like a punch to the gut, and he looked at you for only a second, a thousand different emotions flashing through his eyes before he cleared his throat a little, looking down at his menu and leaving the silence hanging thickly in the air between you both. You were still staring at him, lost and confused and looking like a deer caught in headlights, and you were still a little frozen from the question, feeling like there was stone weighing you down from the inside out.

The waitress came over to take your orders, and you had no idea what you wanted, Mitch listing off what you assumed or be his usual with ease, and he looked at you, your eyes directing down to your menu to avoid his, before you barely managed to choke out what you wanted, giving the woman a polite smile before she was moving away to get your drinks, and you finally looked back up at him.

“Mitch, I really like you. Like, more than I‘ve ever liked anyone other than Stiles. It’s different now, with you. You make me feel different, you make me feel everything I never thought I’d get back. The way I feel about you is nothing like the way I feel about him. It’s exciting, and new, and you want me back, an-” Your voice cracked as you spoke, and he stood up from his side, rounding the booth and cupping your face in his.

“Kitten, please don’t cry. I’m not mad at you, I’m really not.” He shushed you quietly as tears welled up in your eyes, and he kissed at your cheeks delicately, letting you calm your racing heart. “Don’t cry on our first date, I don’t want that to be what we look back on.”

“I’m sorry, Mitch.”

“Don’t be sorry, he was your first love, and that’s always hard to forget. I may not be in love with Katrina anymore but she’ll always hold a place in my heart, and I suspect my little brother will hold that for you, too.” He tipped your chin up, pressing a delicate kiss to your lips, and breaking away when two glasses were placed down on the table before you both, and he pulled your soda over to you, prompting you to take a sip.

“I have such an amazing time with you, every single time.”

“I know, sweetheart. I feel the same.” He tucked some hair behind your ears, letting you curl into his side as his arm wrapped around you, and he let you press your face into his neck, soothing yourself with the warmth of his skin and the smell of his cologne, the familiar and unique way it made you feel when he held onto you. “Just tell me I have a chance, okay? I don’t think I could handle competing to make you fall in love with me, if you’re already in love with him.”

You let out a breathless laugh, nodding slowly and pulling away to hold onto his face, pressing your forehead to his as the unshed tears began to clear from your eyes. “You have a really good chance, Mitch. Like, a sure thing. You have the game rigged.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, baby.” His eyes lit up at the use of the pet name once again, and he leaned down, connecting your mouths in a kiss deeper than any you had shared before, expressing everything that you weren’t saying but confirming everything that you had.

When the food arrived, the mood had cleared, and the two of you ate happily together. He remained on your side of the booth, the two meals becoming shared as he tempted you to try some of his and stole some of yours, your plates pushed up together and your meals shared, until the plates were empty and you were both stuffed, slouched in the booth with your hands held and mumbled words shared.

When he went to the bathroom, you jumped at the chance to pay the bill, wanting to share the costs together and treat him just as much as he liked to treat you. When the table was clear of plates and waitress handing you a receipt when he came back out, he shook his head, but was biting the inside of his cheek to contain his smile, and he took both of your hands in his, pulling you up to your feet and thanking you server as he pulled you out of the door, the bell jingling overhead.

“How am I supposed to treat you and win you over if you buy dinner?”

“That would be called buying me, which makes it prostitution, and I’ll put out for you anyway.” He poked at your sides, growling in your ears a little as he pulled you back into his chest by the waist, and he nipped at your ear lightly. “Besides, you won me over the day you looked after me during my period, even though you didn’t get anything for it.”

“I got to spend the whole day with you, didn’t I?”

You rolled your eyes, shoving him away a little but connecting your hands before he got too far, the two of you stumbling along as the night began to set in, the sunset painting a pretty picture across the horizon. He dragged you in close until your bodies were pressed together, just the two of you wrapped up in one another beside the car, the world slipping away for just a moment. “Do you want to go for a walk along the edge of the preserve?”

“I would way rather take you home, while we still have a few hours to ourselves, and take our time as I have my way with you.” Your jaw dropped as his lips brushed your own with every word, but he pulled back, shrugging his shoulders casually. “But, if you want to go for a walk, we can do that, I guess.”

“You’re right, let’s go home.”

“No, no, no.” He sighed, trying to pull you away from the car, a shit-eating grin on his face, and you dug your heels into the ground to hold yourself still. “You wanted to go for a walk, so let’s do it.”

“If you take me home right now, I’ll blow you when we get there.”

“Sold. In the car, kitten.” He was singing a different tune from the second you’d said the words, slapping at your ass cheekily as he encouraged you up into the vehicle, before getting in himself. The drive was fairly short all things considered, but it still felt like it dragged on for an eternity, the lingering touches you shared and the longing glances being something that only teased the pair of you further and further.

Stumbling into the house consisted of messy and wet kisses, tongues tangling visibly and moans pouring out into the air as you tripped up the stairs in a bid to reach his room while pawing at one another desperately. Making your way along the halls, you fell through the door, your hands tugging that dark blue henley up and over his head, his arms raising to allow you too.

He was pulling at your skirt, yanking it down your legs as you messed with his belt, yanking it from the loops and dropping it to the floor as he stopped the movements of his mouth along your neck, snapping away to peer down at the panties you had one, a loud sound bubbling up from his throat. “Black lace panties, does the bra match?”

“Why don’t you find out?” You lifted your arms up, and he peeled the jumper off of your body, the matching top half being revealed to him as he threw away the rest of your clothes, and you stood before him, in nothing but lingerie and heeled boots. “So, you like?”

“I’ve never seen you wear these before. You’ve been hiding them from me.”

“They’re special, it’s my super pretty date underwear. You earned it today.” You smoothed your hands up his chest, his eyes blown wide with lust and practically black, before taking a handful of his hair and pulling his mouth back down to clash with your own. While he was distracted with your mouth, you were able to pop the button on his jeans, slipping your hand underneath to palm at him through his boxers, his hard cock pressing into your hand and throbbing with each rub.

His own hands were cupping your cheeks, hips rolling into your hand as your other clung to his waist, and he nipped at your lower lip when the burn for oxygen became too much. Kissing along his neck, he tipped his head back, letting you suck and nip along his throat, before your tongue was dragging between the defined lines of his muscles to lick down across his chest and stomach, before settling on your knees.

Brushing his fingers through your hair, he beamed down at you, watching as you tugged his jeans and his boxers to sit around his ankles, his cock springing up and pointing out towards your face. Dragging the tip of your tongue along him, from the base to the tip, before lapping at the slit that was leaking precum out onto his skin.

“Fuck, you look so good on your knees for me. Even better when you let me fuck your pretty mouth. Open up for me.”

You did as told, your jaw dropping open and he slipped his cock between your lips, groaning out as the wet heat of your mouth surrounded him entirely. He pushed in until you were gagging, before he set a slow and steady pace once your lips sealed around him. His fingers were pulling at your hair as he continually tried to smooth back the strands so that he could see your face. He loved the way your lips would stretch around his cock, he loved the way you looked when your eyes watered and spit drooled from your mouth with every thrust he delivered to you.

He liked to take care of you, but Mitch was truly filthy in his own ways. Gripping at his thighs, your nails were digging into his flesh as you forced yourself further down, pressing past your gag reflex as far as you could go, and his legs trembled under your hands, his eyes wide as you pulled back to drag in deep and gasping breaths, and you licked along his shaft, before taking the tip back between your lips once again. Focusing your attention there, you swiped your tongue along the underside, loving the noises you knew how to drag from him, and the reactions you knew how to get out of him.

“Tell me what you want, tell me how you want me.”

He groaned out at the prompt, his mouth dropping open and beginning to spill his thoughts without a filter as you went back to bobbing along his shaft slowly. “I want to fuck you slow and deep tonight, not our usual quick and frantic hookups. I need you to know how much you mean to me tonight, and I need to know you feel the same, so I want to fuck you until you’re begging me for more, begging me to make you cum. I want to watch you unravel, I want you to remember that I’m the one who drives you wild, I’m the one who knows how to take care of you.”

You stilled, looking up at him through your lashes, the words you wanted to speak so badly to him were right there, but you didn’t want this to be how you said it at first, you didn’t want to tell him what you wanted to say until you didn’t have to hide it.

You didn’t want to say it until you knew you were completely and utterly his. Instead, you rose back up, letting him kick off the rest of his own clothes as you slipped off your boots and made your way over to the bed, dragging him with you by both of his hands.

“Show me how much you want me.”

He slipped a hand up behind you, unhooking the latch on your bra and peeling it away down your arms. He cupped your tits in place of the fabric, thumbs dragging over your already pebbled nipples and the sparks shot along your body, your back arching up into him, but he pushed you back with a wicked grin, letting you fall back onto the bed and bounce with the mattress.

“Just gonna’ throw me around like that?” You teased, but lifted your hips, anyway, when he made to peel your panties from your legs, and he threw them away over his shoulder, crawling up the bed toward you as you moved away from him and he wrapped a hand around your ankle, pulling you back down towards him to trap you underneath himself.

“Don’t pretend like you don’t love it.”

“Touché.” He nodded at your submission, before he was dipping down and taking a nipple between his teeth to tug on it, pulling it away from your chest and scraping his teeth across it before he let go, and you could feel yourself becoming undone with every touch he gave to you. Lining himself up, his hips rocked into you slowly, thrusting up slowly until he was fully sheathed within your tight heat, and you looped your arms under his own to grip tightly to his body.  

His chest was pressed to yours, and he set a slow rhythm, fingers clenched in the bedding beside your head as he began to drag in and out of you slowly, and you rolled your hips up to meet him. The usual rapid and bruising collisions of your bodies was changed tonight, it was emotional and passionate and you let out a sob of pure need at the feel of it, overwhelming as he showed you what it meant to be loved.

Your nails were tearing streaks down his back, your throat raw from crying out his name each time he hit against your sweet spot perfectly, every time his skin dragged over yours in a way so erotic you felt yourself flooding around him. He was working his mouth over your body, no patch of skin left untouched by his mouth, covered with kisses or trails of his tongue, as he made sure to worship you in the way he had promised to do. You had never felt this way before, not even with the way he held you when you weren’t fucking, or the way he held you were, but this was a connection on a whole new level.

Locking your hips around his waist, you flipped him over, sinking back down onto him as he gripped at your hips and let you rock your body down onto him. Sitting up to meet you, his mouth found yours, and your movements slowed until you were simply circling in his lap, his hips twitching up the occasional urge to meet your own, but other than that you were both still. The only movements shared were the grasping of wandering hands and the swirling of your tongues between lazily dancing lips.

“You are my world right now, do you know that?”

“Jesus Christ, how does your soft talk affect me more than your dirty talk?” He cursed out as you clenched around him, laying back in the pillows and dragging you with him so that he could fuck up into you with as much power as he could. You cried out, your eyes rolling back in your head and colours exploding around you as everything in your life seemed to fall into place as an orgasm more meaningful and memorable than any you’d had before came crashing over you, leaving you a trembling and quivering mess in his arms. “Fuck! You’re so tight!”

“Don’t stop! Please, just don’t stop.”

You were gasping for breath, riding back onto his cock as the stimulation overwhelmed you but the orgasm building up within you for a second time was undeniably stronger, and you could no longer form words, screams leaving you in desperate begs as you hurtled over the edge, and pulled out of you quickly, cum splattering across your stomach and tits, painting your skin with his arousal as he bit down on his lower lip to muffle the noises that he was making.

Your body collapsed down on top of his, uncaring of the cum splattered across your body as you dropped down onto him, and it seemed he didn’t care either, because he wrapped his arms around you and rolled you over so that his body was sprawled out atop your own. You were both fighting for breath, sweaty and dirty and perfectly content as you curled up in his arms. Tears came to your eyes as you snuggled into him, and you pressed your face into his shoulder, sniffling a little as he brushed a hand over the back of your head, twisting his head to kiss your temple.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“I’m just so happy here, with you, right now.” You didn’t bother to lie, and he pulled back long enough to press a collection of longing kisses to your lips.

“You have no idea how long it’s been since I’ve been this happy, and you did that.” He pushed himself up from the bed, and waddled away for a moment to the bathroom, before returning with a clean chest and a washcloth, wiping over your skin and pressing kisses to each clean patch. Once he was done, he disposed of the cloth and his old clothes into the wash basket, folding yours as he placed them on his desk and kicking his bedroom door shut, lest anyone in his family come home early and see you both.

Crawling up the bed beside you, he collapsed down into the pillows, letting out a low groan of satisfaction and relief, and snuggling down into his own pillows as the two of you lay in companionable silence together, regaining your clarity as the sex-drunk haze cleared up a little.

“Will you stay?”

“What about your dad, or Stiles?” You whispered, and he rolled onto his side, brushing some sweaty hair out of your face and pecking your lips sweetly.

“I’ll lock the door, won’t let anyone in. Give you some of my clothes to wear, sneak you out in the morning.” You remained still, nibbling on your lip as you contemplated it, before sighing and nodding, a gentle smile offered to him.

“Fine, but only if you let me wear those really soft-looking black sweatpants with the crocodile on the pocket.” Your bargain was well received, because he nodded, waving in the direction of the drawer, before pulling you back into his arms.

“You got it.”

[yellowocaballero]

Web!Jon Roleplays Canon!Jon: With Mixed Results?

I wrote this a while ago and now that Sucker’s Bet is finally finished I can post it! Yay! This takes place an indeterminate amount of time after the end of Sucker’s Bet. The exact opposite thing happened with this story that usually happens: I had a very depressing idea and then I was REALLY METICULOUS to make sure it was fluffy. What’s fluffier than healthy discussions about boundaries, needs, and consent?

CW for some unnegotiated roleplay stuff? The same topics that were hit in Sucker’s Bet are hit here. Suggestion of future sexual activity/language but no follow-up. 

“Do it! Do it! Do it!” Sasha chanted, thumping her glass on the table and cheering uproariously. “Do it! Do it!”

Tim laughed drunkenly, slapping the table too. “Double dog dare you! Do it! Do it!”

Good lord, this was like secondary. Jon rolled his eyes, hiding himself behind his cider. Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at Martin.

Sasha: thought it would be funny, scientific curiosity. She wanted to see some magic, and Jon was a magician. Little more than a pub bet.

Tim: similarly, morbid curiosity.  Had more complicated feelings about the whole thing, but that was partly why he was doing it: make everything normal, settle in, stop awkwardly hiding parts of us from each other. Thought that this would help them make friends, also a pub bet.

Martin…

They probably wouldn’t have asked if they weren’t drunk as hell.

Or maybe they would have. Jon was silently hoping that Tim and Sasha would become more comfortable with him. He had a lot of tricks and methods to make them more comfortable with him, but he had decided very firmly to relax. If Tim and Sasha didn’t like him...well, he had already done possibly the douchiest thing possible to them, and they hung out with him anyway, so their expectations were probably on the floor.

Granted, that was mostly in Martin contexts. He rarely hung out with them alone. They were probably only putting up with him because he was Jon’s boyfriend. Jon knew how it was, and frequently exploited it: you think you’re part of his group until you realize he’s terrible and break up with him, and then suddenly you have no friends, so you never get around to breaking up with him and you’re never happy and you never find someone you’re happy with. 

Martin assured him frequently that they liked him. He suggested that Jon ask them, which he may have gotten from a CBT workbook that he surreptitiously read, but Jon was well aware how that put people in an awkward position. If they didn’t like you, what would they do - tell you?

Well. Tim would. Yeah, Tim would. This was why Tim was trustworthy and a good person. Jon loved people who were incapable of lying, it was like watching zoo animals through binoculars. 

They wouldn’t have asked if they weren’t drunk as hell. But they were drunk as hell, and there was nothing better than pub tricks. 

“What I don’t understand,” Tim said, in that kind of dancing lilting way that only the half-drunk were capable of, “is how you convinced everyone that you knew how to do that job when you, like, don’t read anything more complicated than fashion magazines.”

“I knew he couldn’t do the job,” Sasha said furiously, draining her gin and tonic. “I knew it, but did anybody listen?”

“We all knew, honey.”

Jon shrugged, adjusting his long linen shirt that hugged his torso flatteringly. Honestly, if Jon had been born a woman he would have been too powerful. “That one involved a little bit of spider powers,” he admitted. “But not much. I didn’t do much other than record statements. Telling Sasha that we ‘appreciate her initiative’, but, like, grudgingly, meant that she actually did most of the work.”

Sasha’s jaw dropped in indignation. “I did most of the - shit, I did! I did all of the archiving stuff, didn’t I?”

“I just looked really hurried and spent a lot of time in my office,” Jon said apologetically. “If you always sound stressed then people just assume that you’re doing things. I was really chatting up people on Tinder most of the time.”

“I was not paid enough,” Sasha grumbled, leaning back in her seat. 

“You keep making yourself out to be lazy,” Martin said mildly. He wasn’t drinking, designated as the sober one of the group tonight. “But you were using that downtime to do other work for your other job.”

Jon himself had a drink or two and he was pleasantly light headed - not drunk, but tipsy enough to feel confident and to shut up all of the annoying anxious voices in his head. It was refreshing, and felt very good. That being said, when Jon was fourteen and Gerry sixteen Agnes sat them with a twenty slide powerpoint presentation on how drinking culture in the UK facilitated alcoholism without recognition of it, so these are things you should never do while drinking and this is how to prevent binge drinking and unhealthy drinking habits. Jon didn’t always listen - alcohol was God’s solution for anxiety - but he tried. Agnes also tried that with Annabelle, but she just hissed at her and downed an entire energy drink at once while staring her in the eyes. They figured Annabelle wasn’t at risk. 

“I still don’t believe you,” Tim said imperiously, slamming his pint on the table and making his beer slosh. “If you did the whole schtick now, it would come off so fake.”

“Definitely. I never fall for the same thing twice,” Sasha bragged. “It would obviously still be Jon - what, Hawthorne? Jon Hawthorne. Or was it Hastings…”

“Hawthorne today,” Jon said politely. But he just shrugged, leaning back in his own seat and sipping delicately at his hard cider. “I can guarantee that, if I pulled out that persona again, nobody at this table would be able to see through it.” At Martin’s surly look, Jon appended, “Maybe Martin would.” Everybody shot him slightly incredulous looks, and he sighed. “I promise I’m good at my job! I’m only...transparent when I’m socializing outside of a persona. You all caught me at a weird time in my life.” He shuddered. “Vacations. Never again.”

“The problem with all of that was vacations,” Martin said flatly. 

“Do it! Do it! Do it!” Sasha chanted, thumping her glass on the table and cheering uproariously. “Do it! Do it!”

Tim laughed drunkenly, slapping the table too. “Double dog dare you! Do it! Do it!”

Good lord, this was like secondary. Jon rolled his eyes, hiding himself behind his cider. Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at Martin. 

Sasha: thought it would be funny, scientific curiosity. She wanted to see some magic, and Jon was a magician. Little more than a pub bet. 

Tim: similarly, morbid curiosity.  Had more complicated feelings about the whole thing, but that was partly why he was doing it: make everything normal, settle in, stop awkwardly hiding parts of us from each other. Thought that this would help them make friends, also a pub bet. 

Martin…

In Martin, Jon saw the same thing that he had always seen. Even stronger, today, than ever. For a month, back then, it had been little more than intrusive thoughts and some light, bored mental meandering. For two, three, months, it had grown deeper and deeper, so thoroughly that it was a surprise. Jon had done a very good job with him. Granted, he had just meant to flirt to keep him complacent, not to end up...doing all of that, and going through all of this, and ending up here. That had never quite been in the plan. 

Martin thought that this roleplay would he really fucking hot. Which, ultimately, swayed Jon: he liked it when Martin thought he was hot. It wasn’t hard, but somehow it meant much more to him than it did from anybody else. It was very strange: that something so easily attained was treasured so highly. Deeply nonsensical. 

“I’m not doing it,” Jon said firmly, and both Tim and Sasha groaned. “It’s not a party trick, guys. Martin, can you scooch? I need the loo.”

Jon, of course, took a slightly meandering approach to the loo. He ditched his pea coat and scarf at the table hidden underneath the tablecloth just out of sight. He fetched a pair of abandoned glasses left on a pub (their owner was annoying a woman), grabbed an abandoned blazer off the back of a chair (its owner was almost passed out drunk, Jon could give it back before the end of the night). He slipped into the bathroom and added his new accessories, taking care to tuck his shirt in. He slipped a hairband from his wrist and quickly did his hair up in a messy bun - he really did need a lot of gel and some combs to get it in his bun normally, but he’d do the best with what he had. Jon glanced in the mirror, looking himself over and fixing his bun as best as he could. He took a deep breath, then two. 

There was always that moment: when Jon slid into it. It felt like skidding on ice, thrust someplace else. Or like an exhale, centering himself as his molecules rearranged. It was a thrilling feeling, often accompanied by a heady thrill or adrenaline. 

No matter how many times he did this, it was still fun. Jon loved it. He really, really loved winning. And Jon always won. 

When Jon walked back to the table, his posture was uncomfortably stiff yet visibly hunched over. Look proud and professional, but deeply feel uncomfortable with the noise and sound and clamor of the pub. Anxious and socially awkward, but trying to hide it - that was familiar. 

Jon halted at the table, where Tim was already telling Martin about a snowboarding accident. They stopped short when they saw him, one hand worrying at his blazer as he scowled at them. “Martin, will you move over? I can’t get to my seat.”

“Uh,” Martin said intelligently. 

“Any day now,” Jon said frostily. 

Martin quickly got up and let Jon slide in. Jon, who had been sitting pressed up against Martin’s side, took care to slide much further away so he was more hovering at the edges of the group -  not enough that it was awkward, but definitely a bit to the right of Sasha directly ahead of him. He avoided eye contact with everybody, picking up his drink and sniffing it suspiciously. The accent was the easiest part of it, the only wrinkle carefully making it almost perceivably fake. 

“Holy shit,” Tim said loudly, voice rising in incredulity, “you actually did it?”

“Did what?” Jon asked. He carefully took a sip of the drink, before grimacing in distaste. “Absolutely vile…” 

“You did the thing,” Sasha said, so excited she was almost bouncing up and down. “You’re doing the thing, holy shit! That was such a Jon face!”

“Er. If you say so.” Jon busied himself with the drink again, obviously pantomiming sipping as he fiddled with the arm of the blazer. Under his breath, yet very audibly, he muttered, “What a waste of time…”

“Man, this is like, what, LARPing?” Tim batted at Sasha’s arm, looking excited. “I’ll play along. Remember we used to do this together?” 

They had. Jon had to pretend that he was unbearably awkward about the whole thing, yet secretly excited to be invited. In reality, pubs were such a cornerstone of Jon’s existence he found them dull as bricks, but it had been fun to channel someone terrified of too many people in a room. 

Sasha’s chin was propped on her hand, giggling. “What’s your organization system for the files, huh, Jon? What’s your organization system? How are you sorting the documents?”

“Tim told me that you don’t talk about work at pubs,” Jon said defensively. “He said you talk about - what was it -” He looked at Tim planatively, obviously lost. “Hobbies? You talk about hobbies?”

“How do you organize the files, Jonathan?”

“Yes, Boss, hobbies,” Tim said faux-sympathetically. He put a hand on his heart, pulling a face. “You gotta have hobbies, right? Shopping, haircare, stealing money, getting fake married?”

“That’s all for his job,” Martin muttered. 

“I have hobbies,” Jon said defensively. He adopted an expression of panicked thought, groping for something. “I like...television.” 

“What television, Jonathan,” Sasha said flatly. 

Jon pretended to sweat. “Television shows?”

“Unrealistic!” Tim slapped the table. “Everyone at least knows a telly show, no matter how much of a nerd they are. Fakey Jon Sims.”

“I do!” Jon protested. “I - well, not recently, but - documentaries count. I watch documentaries. I was watching this fascinating one about the Jonestown Massacre, and the intriguing series of events the lead into the mass death -”

Then he was off, shifting into his confidence when infodumping. Confidence because he was so wrapped up in the joy of sharing information he forgot that it kind of included dominating the conversation, and he watched with satisfaction as everybody’s eyes started glazing over. Everybody except Martin, who was scrolling through his phone looking disinterested. 

Looking. His cheeks were a little flushed. Jon patted himself on the back. 

“I’m sorry,” Jon said, cutting himself off, “am I boring you, Martin?”

But Martin didn’t even look up. “I’m not participating in this.”

“Aw, come on,” Tim wheedled. “Look, he’s even doing the Mah-tin thing. You always started fanning yourself whenever he did that.”

Sasha was, very drunkenly, taking notes. “It’s uncanny. Like a dead person brought back to life and annoying you.”

“Are we really making this entire outing about Martin?” Jon asked, pretending irritation. Play into it. Bloke wouldn’t admit it, but there was a reason he had liked Jon back then. It wasn’t for his sparkling personality, beyond the little flashes of something more tender underneath. Have your cake and eat it too. “You said that this would be fun, Tim.”

Tim just laughed. “Aw, Martin’s not fun?”

“I never said that,” Jon said stiffly. He glanced at Martin out of the corner of his eye, clearly working himself up to say something. When he spoke, the words were almost forced out. “What..are you playing?”

“Sincerely buzz off,” Martin said flatly.

Jon couldn’t help it - his cheeks genuinely burned. He looked away, careful to keep an expression on his face as if he was examining the molding because Martin had said something socially awkward, but hot shame flared in his chest. 

He made it seem as if he downed his drink. “Excuse me, I’m...getting us more drinks.”

Jon made a show of slightly stumbling as he made his way to the bar. Martin had given him the permission to extort drinks out of people through flirting and judicious eye-batting - guy was very strictly monogamous but also practical - and in barely a few minutes he had enough collected for their table. He carefully walked them all back, settling them on the table, and waited for both Tim and Sasha to grab their drinks and start enthusiastically downing them. 

He wanted to drop it, ask Martin if he made him uncomfortable, reassure him. But that would ruin the momentum of this, the steam train picking up speed, and it was impossible for Jon to miss the dual things that Martin was feeling.

Super turned on. Also very uncomfortable. Jon decided that he was uncomfortable because he found it attractive, and he was dealing with some guilt over that. 

It would be fun to reassure him, but Jon had the sense that he wouldn’t like him to do it in public. 

Soon afterwards, with a little more friendly yet understated performance from Jon and uproarious laughter from Tim and Sasha, Sasha’s head had begun dropping onto the table more frequently than not and Tim decided that it was time to take her home. More accurately, Jon knew, to Tim’s place, as it was closer. He’d drop her on the couch, he’d slide into his own bed, and he’d think about a different situation. She’d wake up in the morning, eyes squinting against the harsh sun, and hope for a moment - but no, the couch again. Neither were willing to bridge the gap. 

Jon and Martin stumbled out too. Jon had been intending on spending the night at Martin’s place - Jon loved cuddling, it was his favorite thing - and Jon made a show of acting slightly drunker than he was as Martin thoughtfully kept a hand on his back. He stumbled out the door, gripping Martin’s coat and giggling. He had strategically returned the blazer back to the guy, and Martin had his other clothing draped over his arm. 

“And, in my opinion,” Jon stated decisively as he swayed, “as part of our anti-colonialist efforts we should give Ireland back to the Irish -”

“You can drop it,” Martin said, gently guiding him towards the tube station. They still had an hour before the last trains ran. “Seriously.”

Jon giggled, before slightly bending down to whisper in Jon’s ear. He kept the accent, the inflections, everything. “But you really find it hot.”

Martin sputtered as Jon laughed uproariously - not his laugh, the Archivist’s laugh - and they teetered towards home. 

On the tube Jon kept a hand on Martin’s thigh, and Martin kept glancing and glancing towards him, and Jon would shoot him a prissy look as his hand wandered up his thigh, and Martin would get redder and redder. 

When Martin unlocked his flat door it took several times, with his hand shaking slightly, and Jon hid a smirk behind a hand. On some level, he was always roleplaying when he did these kinds of things, but with Martin it was usually so authentic that this was positively novel. Jon’s mind was already furiously churning as he set up the scene - yes, that would be exactly right, this would be fun -

Jon stumbled inside after Martin, who was already taking off his coat and hanging it on the peg. He put Jon’s coat up too, glancing at Jon out of the corner of his eye. 

The Archivist wouldn’t really notice something like that, so he didn’t either. “Lord, Martin, your flat’s as messy as your desk.”

Martin still looked a little pained, even as his cheeks were quite red. “Yeah, ha ha. My desk wasn’t that bad, you were just being picky.”

“Yes, I suppose I must apologize for that.” Jon drew himself up to his full height, stepping close to Martin - closer than the Archivist ever had. “Martin, I’m afraid - well, I have a confession.”

“Oh, boy,” Martin said. 

“Don’t get snippy with me,” Jon said prissily. But he leaned in, keeping his expression just on the faintest edge of innocently scared. “I never wanted to admit this. It was just so inappropriate, what with me being your boss and all. I always - well, I always knew how you felt about me. It was...charming.”

Obviously involuntarily, Martin squeaked a bit. Adorable. 

Jon reached out and put a hand on the back of his neck, leaning in. “Truth be told, I was looking at you too. I was just embarrassed. I didn’t like admitting it. But I couldn’t help thinking about it.” That was, obviously, how Martin’s fantasies had always worked. Not realistic, but realism wasn’t the point of your absent daydreams during a boring workday. “But I’m tired of hiding it. I really want you, Martin. I always have. I want you to bend me over my desk and -”

“Shut it off, Jon!”

Jon shut it off. They had agreed on the phrase ages ago, the very solid cue to drop all of Jon’s shit. Jon regularly kept up the shit just because he found it entertaining, and oftentimes comforting, but Martin sometimes found it unbelievably obtrusive when he was trying to have a serious conversation. It was difficult - Jon got panicked during serious conversations, so he usually defensively threw his shit back up again, and it was a self-perpetuating cycle that had frustrated and upset the both of them until they had sat down and talked about it. If Jon couldn’t keep up the conversation without lying, then they both walked away and came back to it later. It was work. But it was good work, the kind that allowed for the good stuff to flourish. Uncomfortable, messy, and real - but maybe that was what Jon liked about it. 

“Sorry,” Jon said. He straightened, letting every expression drop away until he was back at his favored neutral. He knew that Martin found it unsettlingly blank, but he rarely complained. “Did I go too far with the desk thing?”

Martin just stood there, carefully controlling his breathing. Jon waited, letting Martin pick through his thoughts and try to shape them. It was probably more difficult than usual, considering how well Jon had been striking the right notes, so he gave him some time.

Finally, Martin said, “I get having fun with Sasha and Tim. I get us doing roleplay, privately, together. I get you doing a role for your job. But the Archivist gig has a lot of baggage with it, for all of us. Do you understand why I feel weird about you pulling that into bedroom stuff?”

“We watch TV in your bedroom,” Jon pointed out. At Martin’s flat, unamused look, Jon had to fight the urge to shuffle his feet. “I sincerely don’t understand your reaction. I’ve seen your search history -”

“Jon!”

“Research for before we got together, don’t think anything of it,” Jon said quickly. “But doesn’t that make it better? It’s not often somebody gets everything they want from somebody unattainable. Or, you know, not real, but…”

“Jon, for a mind reader you can be terrible at picking up cues sometimes,” Martin said, exasperated. “I know your reasons for doing stuff like this -”

“I’m fantastic at picking up cues,” Jon corrected, oddly huffy. “Because I always know what people want. Their desires, even if they don’t like admitting it to themselves. Do you have any idea how many people on this Earth are bisexual but won’t admit it?”

But, somehow, that just made Martin’s eyes widen a little, as if a realization had cracked. “It cannot be comfortable knowing how many people are attracted to you when you’re sex-repulsed.”

“It’s fine,” Jon lied. “I like it.”

“Jon.”

“Whatever. I got used to it.” Jon shrugged. “I like it when you like me. You’re my boyfriend. I want to make you happy because I like seeing you happy. That’s my ulterior motive.”

Martin sighed again, but thankfully he didn’t look as stressed anymore. Win. He broke away from Jon, instead dropping heavily onto the couch, and Jon hesitantly sat down next to him. His costume abruptly felt stifling, and when he saw Martin’s eyes linger on the bun he undid it and untucked his shirt. God, his hair was a wreck. 

“The Archivist has baggage for me,” Martin said quietly. “I know how I feel, and I try not to be embarrassed over stuff that most people go through and feel. Had enough of that internalized homophobia for a lifetime. I...can’t avoid you knowing how I feel, or what I’m thinking. I know you can try not to look, but you can’t completely control it either. I understand all of this. But you knowing what I want isn’t the same as me asking for it. Do you understand that difference?”

Jon shrugged uncomfortably. 

“Jon. Do you get that I felt uncomfortable because what you did was unnegotiated and you didn’t ask my permission?”

The feeling of embarrassment and guilt spiked higher, and Jon looked away and stared fixedly at some admittedly quite pretty art on the wall. “You’re making it sound bad.”

“I should have shut that down earlier. That’s my bad. You should have stopped to ask. Your bad. We’re both at fault, so we shouldn’t be mad at each other. Are we all good on that?”

Jon stayed silent for a little bit, staring at the wall, trying his best to assemble his own thoughts in his brain. He wasn’t smart. He had problems assembling the words for the complex and large and overwhelming feelings he felt so often. How was Martin so good at breaking this down and putting it into words, when Jon could barely even express how he felt?

Well, Martin probably had more practice…

“You’re so frustrating,” Jon whispered. “You don’t like asking for what you want. You do make me guess. You’re embarrassed to say any of it - the things you want me to do, or the things you like. You do want me to read your mind, because everybody wants a mind reader in their relationship. Especially when it comes to sexual things. But what I can’t read is the...choices you make. Just what you want. And you always make a choice that’s contrary to what you want, and I can never guess. So I do what you want, which is always the exact opposite of what you want me to actually do, and…”

After a second of silence, Martin said, “I need to work on that. I have to be more vocal too. But, Jon, nowhere in that did you mention what you want.”

Jon turned back to look at him, and saw that Martin’s expression was creased. With a mix of - sadness, frustration, conviction, dedication. Imagine being that dedicated, about anything. “Nothing about me minded this time,” Jon said, flabbergasted. “I liked it. I like playing, I like making you feel good, I like winning.” Martin opened his mouth, and Jon quickly said, “Don’t pretend that socialization isn’t a game that everyone is always trying to win, you liar.”

Martin shut his mouth. He could not deny it. Finally, he said, “I hate how you have to say this time.”

He couldn’t help it - he cringed, very hard. Terrible memory. Terrible, terrible, terrible - “I don’t want you to touch me the rest of tonight,” he said, in one rushed breath. Georgie told him to say it. Georgie, Melanie, and Martin. He was supposed to say this. 

“Of course, no problem,” Martin said, quickly yet calmly. “Was there anything in that I shouldn’t bring up again?”

“That never happened,” Jon said, his heart jackrabbiting in his chest. “Stop bringing it up, it’s over, I’m fine - I’m going to bed!”

Hilariously, it was Martin’s flat, but Jon needed to dramatically retreat, so he ended up claiming Martin’s bed for his own. He was very aware that Martin would grab the couch for tonight, because Jon had asked him to. So he was left shoving himself into the pyjamas that he left at Martin’s, wrapping his hair, and sliding under the covers. 

But he wasn’t really tired. Jon’s mind kept churning and churning, trying desperately to tease out his own feelings, before realizing that he really didn’t want to know.

It was a really good conversation. Jon was glad that they had it - that Martin hadn’t gone along with it if he wasn’t comfortable, that he had actually pointed out where Jon crossed a line. Nothing about it was bad. Everything was a work in progress - Jon and Martin most of all. 

So much of them clashed. So much of them cared about each other more than the clashing. They ran up against these things incessantly, and Jon felt as if they worked it out every time. 

He would definitely make Martin breakfast tomorrow. Lots of bacon, although Jon never ate the stuff. He would have to clarify that the way this ended - it wasn’t Martin’s fault, not really. He would probably also have to clarify that his random terror wasn’t something that was any of Martin’s business. He was the one person Jon didn’t want to talk it over with, actually. 

Martin respected Jon a lot. More than Jon thought was rational, considering...himself. He never vocalized what exactly he wanted, because he respected that it was never in consideration. Jon had even seen him want it less and less - it barely even came up anymore. Except, of course, when Jon teased on purpose…

When Jon teased on purpose and didn’t tell Martin that he didn’t want something so then he made himself -

It was a good conversation, except Jon ruined it because something stupid that didn’t mean anything at all sent him into abject shame and terror.

This was so hard. Jon hated thinking this much. He decided to fall asleep instead. Much simpler.

In dreams, where everything was an illusion and nothing meant anything at all, nobody minded that none of it was real. 

*

Tim: omfg im so fucking hungoverrrr I hate being 34

Tim: good time last night tho

Tim: also like it WAS funny but you know we like you best as you, rite? U normally dont so Ill validate: liking you best as you, always

*

Sasha: THE DOCUMENTS, JON!!! 

Sasha: Tim says you might have gotten the wrong impression from last night so I’ll also validate: all of you is good. Even the bad parts are good. Does that make sense?

Sasha: Tim said that that sounded ‘backhanded’ but you know what I mean

Sasha: Man why is it so hard to just say what I mean!!! 

Sasha: Life’s stupid. Tell Martin I said hi. 

[secret-engima]

hamelin-born

@secret-engima

It is. A very grim comfort to take (no pun intended), but Oscar’s sole almost-solace during that terrible time of blood and pain and (literal) soul-wrenching agony was that Salem hadn’t lied when she called his ‘Ozma’s son’. It was a truth that cut into him like barbed wire, a truth that lashed him with pain and grief and sorrow - but a truth that, as you said, he clung to.

He was son to a murdered father, he was a child of the Infinite Man, and it was - it didn’t bring him comfort, it brought him pain, but it kept him from shattering, it gave him the resolve he needed to hang on.

(And oh, but Salem would have laughed as she shifted the aim of her experiments, her torture - because Oscar was Ozma’s son, so Ozma’s son he would be in every way she could devise, ever similarity she could wrench into his body, down to his scars and to his limp - scars that, one day, Ozpin would take one look at and blanch because he recognized those scars from his own past.)

And Salem would. Salem would have poured her own magic into Oscar, not only to see what happened, not only to triumph over the memory of Ozpin one last time, giddy with the victory of finally killing her one-time husband for good. No. Salem would have set out to make Oscar her son as much as Ozpin’s as well, because she would take everything Ozma had, taint even the memory of him that lingered in the world - Ozma’s child would be her child as well, and best of all, to her? It would hurt Oscar so to know it. To be forced to acknowledge it. To have to call her ‘mother’.

Forget thunderstorms. Oscar might, in a panic, summon a full-on cyclone in an attempt to launch whoever’s pressing the issue as far away from him as possible.

...in a slightly fluffier vein (how did this get so dark?!) just. During their first meeting, or maybe a little later. Imagine Oscar hesitantly asking Ozpin if he’s his dad, because She said he was, but - there’s a difference between being a father and being a Dad.

And Ozpin, not hesitating for a single moment as he says ‘yes’. Yes, he’s Oscar’s dad.

(And that - that might just make Oscar break, for more reasons than one. Break, and *hug* Ozpin like there’s no tomorrow. Because he has healed, he’s worked hard at it, he has his family, he has his Torchdad and his friends/siblings and his magic, but this - this is something old and precious, the most tender of old scars, and now - now it’s split open so it can finally, finally heal clean.)

(He breaks, and goes in for a hug).

...also, Ozpin+Team Gremlin are willing accomplices in unceremoniously ejecting  anyone from the room who thinks to ask Oscar about his ‘mom’ or guilt-trip/interrogate him for being ‘Salem’s child’. They will eject the individual at high velocity, preferably from the nearest window - hey, Ozpin is known for dropping people off of cliffs.

Me: Once again plopping this here because the reblog chain was getting super long XD-

It is a very dark comfort indeed, but it was what got him through to the other side in enough coherent pieces to help destroy her once and for all.

(But yessss, oh how she laughed as she shifted her efforts to remaking this child, this remnant, into being the most perfect child copy of Ozma she could make. The perfect *son* in her mind and all that entailed)

Salem wove her magic into Oscar’s and it save his life, but oh what an agonizing price. She took glee in *claiming* one of the few things that could have been once considered solely his and gloried in tainting the last pieces of his legacy (and in the end, isn’t it ironic that her own torments are what undid her, both in the future and in the time rewritten that would come later)

FLUFFY VEIN YES PLEASE. Your comment finally spurred me to actually write that scene btw. And it came out ... angstier than intended but I’m so pleased and I won’t post the whole thing yet but HERE HAVE A SNIP:

...

     “Hey, Sondor,” murmured a voice through the tent fabric and Ozpin’s world crystalized, “Everything alright? You left in a bit of a hurry.” A deep rumble, inhuman and bass and … oddly content sounding. The voice —a child’s voice, a gentle voice, a voice he’d just heard laughing and waxing dramatic for a show of fake magic and real mysteries— laughed faintly, “Checking on someone then? You know everyone has to stay up late on performance nights.”

     If he held on any tighter to his cane, he thought it might shatter, but the feel of it grounded him like it always had, and with the last bit of courage he possessed in this lifetime, he pushed the tent flap open and slipped inside as the voice —his son— finished saying, “We’ll be sure to take long naps in the morning.”

     Ozpin was here. He was standing in the same space as his child, without a crowd to be wary of or a performance to keep them apart. He was standing in some kind of makeshift workshop, with a cot on the floor on the far side and the vast majority of space taken up by a battered, foldable metal table that seemed to be a desk and all the tools of a magician’s trade. Cards and wands and hats, gloves and fanciful outfits and a hundred thousand other things that didn’t matter, because amid all the mess, with his back mostly to the entrance and a massive Grimm lying contentedly next to his feet, was the Ringmaster.

     His child.

     The Grimm raised its head again to stare at him, a low noise he’d never heard the monsters make before rumbling from its chest, and the boy tilted his head toward the tent entrance absently, still not looking away from the Dust gem he was setting in his elaborate cane, “Hey Neo, you’re back early. I thought you were still scoping … out…” he finished setting the Dust in his cane, looked up and saw Ozpin standing there. Neither of them moved. Green-gold eyes in a young face —he looked ten had Qrow really been correct on estimating his age closer to twelve or thirteen?— went wide, and the magic passively swirling through the tent shrunk in on itself until he couldn’t feel it.

     It occurred belatedly to Ozpin that while he had essentially been stalking his son for the last few years in an attempt to meet him and make sure he was okay, the boy wouldn’t know him at all. Or worse, had only heard of him from people who hated him —from Salem herself even—. And now Ozpin had just shown up in the boy’s living space without warning or invitation.

     Terror and nerves tangled up all the words he wanted to say, all the ones he’d longed to say, and instead he found himself folding both of his shaking hands on the pommel of his cane and bleating out the first, most habitual line currently living in his brain, “Hello, I’m Professor Ozpin-.”

     A shout, loud and gutted, and all his words died in his throat again as the boy threw himself off his little camp chair and at Ozpin. Long Memory clattered to the ground unnoticed as Ozpin instinctively raised his hands to wrap around the little body that collided with his waist, slender arms tightening like a vise around him and Ozpin couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe-.

     Had he really said-?

     A hiccuping sob from the child in his arms, a fully body thing that shook him from his tousled black hair to his shoes while that word spun endlessly in Ozpin’s mind, haunting him and confusing him because he couldn’t have heard that right. He couldn’t have heard…

     “Dad.”

     The word echoed between them again, muffled by a young face buried in his suit jacket, and Ozpin felt his own breath start to stammer as he clung tighter to the boy in his arms, sinking down to his knees despite the screaming in his leg and burying his face in flyaway black hair, “I’m here.” He choked out, “I’m right here. I’ve got you. You’re alright. I’m right … I’m right here.”

[writer1]

A Sniper’s Life Changing Injury

Part One

Warnings: fear, self hate, transformation, body horror, swearing, lying, injury, thoughts of abandonment, angst, lots of angst, thoughts of losing brothers, near death experience. Depression, feeling alone. It does get fluffy in the end tho, we promise

A/N: This is a collab fic between myself and @ahsokatano-thetogruta , we hope that you enjoy this! As we’ve put in the warnings, there is a lot of angst and Crosshair feels so scared and alone at a few points in this fic, so if you are feeling sad, you may want to skip out on reading this fic.  It does get fluffy in the end tho, we promise. We also promise that there will be more fluffier fics for Werewolf Crosshair in the future. 

Crosshair sits in his spot above the base, rifle trained on the door. His job is to shoot any droid that gets close, which is pretty easy. He waits for his brothers to get out with the information, then they can leave this force damned, snowy planet. Crosshair smirks when he finally sees his brothers leave the base, and head back to the Marauder. “Took them long enough.” He grumbles, standing up and walking through the tall trees, back towards the Marauder.

But he freezes when he hears a rustling, Crosshair points his rifle, seeing some large bushes, he waits. When there's a roar, and a giant beast jumps straight onto Crosshair, clamping a jaw around his arm. “ARGHH!!” He screams as he kicks the beast off, picking up his rifle and shooting at the beast the best he can with his injured arm. Once it’s gone, Crosshair huffs, then goes to walk back to the Marauder to get his arm taken care of, when he feels a weird feeling in his stomach.

“What the-- AURGH!” The pain intensifies tenfold, as Crosshair falls to the ground. He snarls as he starts to rip off his armor, the pain making him need too. Once it’s all off, he growls and whimpers as he hears a crack, making him scream. He covers his mouth, not wanting anyone to hear him, as his shirt grows tight, then rips. Crosshair realizes that his body is growing bigger, grey fur growing all over him. 

He whines as his bones crack and change, legs gaining haunches. He hears a beeping, his comm is going off. “Crosshair! You there? Where are you Vod’ika, you should be back by now!” Crosshair whines, a noise unfamiliar to him, he… he wants his brothers, his Ori’Vod. He just wants Wrecker to hold him close, Tech to talk his ears off but also comfort him. And Hunter… he just wants some comfort from his oldest brother, please.

He goes to grab his comm, to call his Ori’Vod’s to his side, but when he almost reaches it, he feels a burning pain in his bones and his hands shake as he pulls them back to him, seeing them change and become more claw-like. He growls and his mouth elongates, becoming a muzzle, and a large fluffy tail painfully sprouts and grows from his backside. He opens his eyes, tears falling down his face as he looks down at himself, the transformation is finished, and he’s looking down at a body not his own. He looks at his hands and feet, both have sharp claws on the ends, and his legs have haunches. He is covered in thick, grey fur, and he can tell that he’s even bigger than Wrecker now, so much bigger.

Crosshair whimpers as he realizes that… that he can’t call his brothers. He’s a monster now, a hideous beast that his brothers will abandon as soon as they find out. Crosshair shakes his head, he can’t let them know, can’t tell them that he’s a monster now. Crosshair cries, completely breaking down from his usual, cold persona, what does he do, will he be human again? What happens if he isn’t? 

“Crosshair?!! Cross!! Where are you!!” Crosshair hears the distant shouts of his brothers. Shit! Crosshair doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t want his brothers to see him like this, so he carries out his best and only best plan.

Run and hide.

So he does. He runs. He runs as fast as he can. He tries to run on two legs, but he keeps stumbling and falling to the ground, so he runs on all fours, coming across a cave. He takes a few moments to calm himself down as soon as he gets the chance to sit against the cave wall. He’s panicking, scared out of his mind as he looks down at himself, seeing a body that isn’t his. All he wants right now is a hug from Hunter, but there’s no way that they’d give him one now. Crosshair is a monster now, there’s no going back.

He whines and whimpers as he finds something to chew on, but he can’t, so he just uses the next best thing. His hand will make an okay substitute for now, but he wishes that Wrecker was there with him, since he would always offer him Lula to chew on whenever he was stressed or anxious, usually both. He visualises the small Tooka doll, seeing it’s slightly bent and floppy ear. The image makes him happy, but then he just sees the disgusted looks on all of their faces, making his ears press back as he curls in on himself. 

A snow storm is picking up quickly, the atmosphere’s temperature dropping dramatically. Crosshair hopes that the others aren’t stuck out there in the cold. He’s sure that him being in this form would keep them all warm if they snuggled together, but who really wants to be near a monster like him? Crosshair pushes his intrusive and painful thoughts away, crawling a little further into the cave to escape the ice cold draft blowing in. He stops and settles down, well, as much as he can. He lies on the floor, feeling some tears run down his furry cheek as he lets out a sob, echoing around the small cave. “Hunter...Tech...Wrecker…” Is all he says quietly to himself as he feels himself fall asleep until he’s completely passed out.

xxx 

Crosshair wakes up with a shiver. The morning light floods into the cave and he feels its slight warmth brush against his feet. He sits up groggily, then his eyes widen when he sees that he’s smaller, no longer covered in fur and back to his normal, human self. He sighs in relief as he shuffles into the light a little more, making him hum at the tiny amount of warmth comforting him. He looks out onto a sea of white, the snow glistening brightly. “No way I’m walking out there.” Crosshair mutters to himself, imagining the laughs and chuckles from his brothers. 

He then freezes as he hears a ship, poking his head out of the cave to see the Marauder landing right outside, he backs up a bit, as Hunter jumps out and comes running, followed by Tech and Wrecker. “Cross! You here?!” he yells, and Crosshair smiles and yells back. “I’m here!” Hunter comes running into the cave, he looks tired, but gets a relieved look. “Cross!” He runs over and pulls Crosshair into a hug, as both Wrecker and Tech run over as well and join in. 

Hunter then pulls away, getting a serious look as Tech wraps a blanket around Crosshair’s shoulders. “What the Kriff happened? We went looking for you when you didn’t return to the Marauder, we found your armor, and torn shirt. What happened!” Crosshair sighs. “An animal attacked me, but I fought it off. It tore my armor and shirt off, then I ran and hid in this cave.” Hunter has an unbelieving look, but he just gives a relieved smile. “We’re just glad you’re okay, Vod’ika.” Hunter tells him, then Wrecker runs over and picks him up.

“Hey! What--” “We thought you were dead!” Wrecker yells as he hugs Crosshair close, tearing up. Crosshair sighs, but hugs Wrecker back. “It’s okay, I’m okay, Wrecker.” Wrecker smiles and presses a kiss to Crosshair’s forehead. “Let's get you inside, you’re freezing.” Crosshair nods, and Tech walks up. “Yes, your body temperature is much too low for my liking.'' The four of them run to the Marauder, Crosshair actually being carried in Wreckers arms. He’s carried straight to Wrecker’s bunk, being laid down as his brothers all start to strip their armor. 

“What?--” “We are having a cuddle pile, both to warm you up, and because we spent a whole night thinking you were dead, we need the comfort of knowing you’re safe beside us.” Crosshair nods, feeling terrible for worrying them. They all climb into the bed, Crosshair between Tech and Hunter, as Wrecker moves them all to be on top of him. Crosshair sighs softly, getting a happy smile. He’s so glad that he turned back to human, he just hopes that he doesn’t transform again.

He yawns as his eyes flutter closed, the warmth of his brothers making him sleepy, he drifts off to sleep.

xxx

That was not the only time Crosshair transforms, not by a longshot. He transformed two more times before today, the first was only three days after the very first time, he was lucky to get an excuse out to his brothers before running. They were thankfully on a more tropical planet, so no freezing to death. The second time, he was once again sniping, and it just started, it may have been because he was worried for his brothers, he doesn’t know. He had started sneaking spare blacks in his backpack thankfully after the tropical planet, so he made sure to leave no evidence and hid in another cave.

His brothers had grown suspicious when he had returned, but he had just shrugged. “I found a new spot, but I got trapped by clankers, so I had to hide and wait it out.” He knew they hadn’t quite believed it, but they didn’t bug.

Crosshair sighs as he cleans his rifle, they have been in space for about four days, and he’s so scared of transforming while up here. Hunter will surely sense it, and then it's all over. He’ll lose his brothers forever, and be alone. Crosshair runs a hand through his hair as he sighs sadly. “Maybe I deserve it, what kind of monsters have families.” He whispers to himself, then startles when he hears Hunter yell for him.

“Cross! Dinners ready!” He stands, setting his rifle up as he leaves his quarters, walking to the common area. Hunter smiles and hands him a plate. “Wrecker chose tonight.” Crosshair sighs, rolling his eyes, but he smiles. “Kraft Dinner?” “Kraft Dinner.” Hunter confirms, and Crosshair smiles as Wrecker pumps a fist. “Yeah!! I love it!!” Crosshair smiles as he sits down against a wall, and starts eating his bowl of Kraft Dinner. Hunter has given him a fork, just how he likes it.

He eats for a few minutes, hearing Tech babble about this new gadget he’s working on, just feeling content when he feels the familiar discomfort welling up in his stomach. His eyes widen as fear fills him. Hunter notices that there’s something off about Crosshair, making him raise an eyebrow “Everything okay, Cross?” He asks, but Crosshair swallows hard to try and get rid of the feeling in his stomach. He tries to think of an excuse, then he looks at his food. “I think this is making me sick, I’ll be right back.” Crosshair lies, knowing that he is going to transform and will not want to show his face, or the face of a wolf, that is.

Crosshair stands quickly and swiftly makes his way down the hall towards his room. Hunter, Tech and Wrecker all share the same concerned, worried look for their little brother. “He doesn’t usually feel sick at dinner, does he?” Tech inquires, making Hunter shake his head. “No. No, he doesn’t.” He replies, getting up and follows Crosshair in his stead back to his room. “Cross, wait!” He calls out to Crosshair, but the door is shut on his face. Hunter knocks a few times “Cross, what’s going on? Are you alright--” A loud groan and yell from inside the room is all he needs for him to answer his own question.

“TECH! WRECKER!” Hunter yells, seeing his brothers run immediately to him. “What’s going on?! Is Cross okay?!” Wrecker asks. He’s never felt so worried before in his whole life. Hunter shakes his head, but before he can answer, there’s a yell louder and more painful than the last one. “His door is locked and I can’t get it open.” Hunter tells them, then Tech is immediately at the panel for the door lock, but his shaky hands are making it difficult for him to hack into the locking mechanism. “I-I can’t get it open!” Tech is panicking, worried for his little brother, tears filling his eyes and making it difficult to see what he’s doing. 

“Stand back!!” Wrecker yells, letting Tech move out of the way before he uses all of his strength to kick down the door. They each rush into the room, to then see Crosshair kneeling on the floor with his back to them, arms wrapped around himself. He seems...different. Like he’s-- growing?! The three of them stand there, not sure what to do. This has never happened before. “Crosshair?” Hunter asks cautiously, watching as Crosshair turns his head to look at them. They feel a shiver run down their spines when they see that their little brother’s eyes are yellow and glowing a little, some grey fur growing on his face too.

“Get out!!”

xxx

“Cross, wai--!” The door shuts behind Crosshair. Crosshair groans, hugging his stomach as he sits down on the floor beside his bed. He strips his armor off, throwing it half-hazardly across the room, he hugs himself, as he does everything in his power to hold back the transformation, causing excruciating pain.

He hears knocking. “Cross, what’s going on? Are you alright--” He lets out a loud groan, followed by a yell. The sound of Hunter’s voice is making him scared and uneasy. “TECH! WRECKER!” He hears Hunter yell, as footsteps come running. “No no no.”  Crosshair whispers, letting out an even louder, more painful yell as the pain amps up, he’s so scared that  his brothers will see the monstrous beast he’s going to become, he continues holding back his transformation, no matter how much pain it causes. He can hear voices on the other side, but is unable to concentrate enough to hear what they’re saying, he growls as fur starts to grow on his face, and he squeezes his eyes shut. “No, please, no.” He whispers, hugging himself and turning from the door as he hears-- “Stand back!!” then a big bang, as he knows that Wrecker has kicked the door down, he grits his teeth as his body starts to slowly, agonizingly slowly, grow bigger.

They stand there for a few minutes, probably just staring at him until he hears Hunter ask.  “Crosshair?” almost in a scared voice, it makes Crosshair wince, then he turns to them. Seeing them shiver and their eyes go wide. “Get out!!” He yells, not wanting them to see him, not like this. His voice is a bit deeper, and growly. 

As he groans again, he won’t be able to hold back the transformation for much longer. He watches them stare with fear written on all three of their faces, and he looks away. “I said get out!!” He yells, but then everything becomes too much, and he lets out a sob. “Please, just...don’t look at me. I’m… I’m a monster, just go away.” He hugs himself tighter, the pain growing worse as he yells out, he won’t be able to hold it back, it’s already starting to slip. He doesn’t hear them leaving, wondering what's going on. “I’m sorry, I know it’s disgusting, and I’ll leave after this. I promise, you’ll never have to see me aga-- AUGH.” Crosshair tells them, tears falling down his face as he shakes.

He finally slips, unable to hold it back any longer. He lets go and lets the transformation happen, knowing that he can’t stop it now. His body grows larger, fur sprouting out as his clothes rip, his shirt fully shredding as his pants stay on, only ripping at the ends to about half way. He writhes on the floor as his bones crack, legs bending and forming into haunches. His arms are longer and more muscular, hands more claw-like now. He knows that they are probably all staring at him in disgust, already devising a plan to throw him out on the next plant they come across. Crosshair knows that he’s not going to be welcomed here anymore--

His heavy, growly breath hitches when he feels a pair of arms wrap around his front, making him look down to see his bandana-loving brother hugging him tightly. “Hunt-- argh, Hunter, no, don’t…” Crosshair begins but starts sobbing, not wanting Hunter to leave. “Shh, it’s alright, Cross. We’re not going anywhere.” Hunter tells him, making his heart throb. He’s not sure whether it’s from hearing that his brothers still love him or the uncomfortable feeling in his chest as he continues to grow bigger and more fluff grows, getting fluffier.

Hunter pulls away a little, not wanting to keep his embrace around his little brother too tightly. He looks up to see tears flowing down his face, so he reaches a hand up to cup Crosshair’s cheek, wiping the tears away. Crosshair leans into the touch, but then his face hurts as it elongates. He yells out, wanting to look away, but Hunter just gives him a look of ‘it’s okay, I’m not afraid and you shouldn’t be either’. Crosshair whines, squeezing his eyes shut as his ears grow pointy and furry, moving to the top of his head as a tail grows long and fluffy. 

Crosshair lets out a relieved huff and sigh, but whimpers when he opens his eyes, he sees Tech and Wrecker standing in front of him, staring in disbelief, making Crosshair press his ears back in fear and look down “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I’m a monster now, you can kick me out if you want.” He hears no response, so he looks up to see the three of them with tears in their eyes, spilling out and rolling down their faces. Crosshair feels guilty and confused. “Why are you crying? Did I say something wrong--” 

“Why would you ever think that?!” Hunter sounds angry, making Crosshair jump in surprise. Hunter takes a deep breath “We’d never kick you out, ever.” He says, standing up and pressing his forehead against Crosshair. Crosshair feels like crying, so he holds Hunter close to comfort him. He feels Tech and Wrecker hug him from either side, so he lets go of Hunter for a moment to pull the both of them in for a hug as well. His longer arms allow him to hold all three of them at once, hugging them close and all together. 

They all sit like that for a few minutes, Crosshair just wanting to be close to his brothers, he finds it weird, being bigger than them, especially Wrecker. Crosshair whimpers, gently setting his chin on the top of Tech’s head, making Tech let out a sigh. They then pull away, and Hunter gives him a sad look. “How long? This isn’t the first time, is it?” Crosshair shakes his head, making his brothers get sad looks. “It was during that mission on the snow planet, I transformed, that’s why you couldn’t find me.” Hunter’s eyes widen. “That… That was a week and a half ago, Cross! You’ve been like this that long, and you haven’t told us!” Crosshair flinches, ears pressing back.

“I was scared, I’m a monster now. I thought you’d hate me, and think I’m disgusting. So whenever I transformed I hid, same on the tropical planet and that last planet we were on.” Hunter tears up a bit, as Wrecker growls. “You’re not a monster, never!” He tells Crosshair, making Crosshair whine as his ears press back. Hunter frowns, giving Wrecker a look. Wrecker gently pets Crosshair’s arm. 

Hunter then looks back up at Crosshair. “You’re not a monster, you are our brother, nothing is going to change that. Not ever in a million years.” Crosshair tears up again, pulling all three of his brothers into a hug, Tech smiles. “It’s okay, I’d like to run some tests on you. Just so we know how this affects you. But that can be sometime later.” Crosshair nods, nuzzling into Tech as Wrecker pets him. “So you don’t think I’m a Monster? Or disgusting?” Crosshair knows they already said he didn’t, but after thinking they’d hate him for so long, he needs the reassurances.

“Not at all. What you look like doesn’t matter, you're still our little brother, Crossy.” Tech reassures him, making sure that Crosshair is getting everybit comfort he deserves. Crosshair’s chest rumbles in content, letting out a happy hum as he nuzzles into the top of each of their heads. He feels so lucky to have the three greatest Vod’e in the entire galaxy. Lost in his content thoughts, he licks their heads a few times before stopping. His face heats up in embarrassment. “What the-- s-sorry, I don’t know why I did that.” Instead of the weirded out reactions he expected, they all smile kindly and don’t say anything about it. Except for Tech, that is. “Well, it is probably a new natural reaction or instinct that you have developed, since it is a gesture that a wolf makes to show affection.” 

Wrecker looks at him with a mix of shock and confusion. He never knew that “They do that?” He asks and Tech retorts playfully in a smart tone of voice “I thought that was obvious.” All of them chuckle, including Crosshair, who feels a lot less nervous knowing that it is something that is now...normal. Suddenly, he sees Wrecker lean up to his face and start licking his furry cheek. “Um, Wrecker? W-What are y’doing?” Crosshair asks, unable to hold back a chuckle.

“M’giving you affection too-- bleh!” Wrecker tells him, but then he’s cut off when he starts coughing up some fur that got in his mouth. Crosshair laughs and pats the top of Wrecker’s head. “Normal kisses work fine, Wreck.” He tells him with a smile, then Wrecker kisses him normally a few times before snuggling again. Crosshair nuzzles him and then hums when Hunter plays with the fur on his chest, making his eyes flutter from the nice feeling. Hunter chuckles sweetly. “Is that nice, Cross’ika?” Crosshair can’t find the words to say, so he just nods and hums. Hunter runs his fingers through the fluffy fur a few more times, looking sadly at Crosshair.

Crosshair whines at the loss of Hunter’s touch, making him fully open his eyes “Why did you stop?” He asks, and Hunter sighs “You really went through this alone three times already? The same pain and worry on your mind?” Hunter asks. Crosshair looks sheepishly at him in response and nods, his ears pressing back. “M’sorry, I...I was just so scared.”

Hunter frowns, placing a hand softly on Crosshair’s cheek. “Well, you don’t have to be afraid anymore. We’re here for you and we always will be. Right, Fellas?” Hunter smiles at Tech and Wrecker who both nod. Tech lets out a little “Yep.” while Wrecker pumps his fist in the air a little and shouts “Yeah!”, making them all laugh and smile.

After calming down, Crosshair lets out a yawn, his sharp teeth on display for the others to see, but they don’t find them scary. He feels tired from all the exhaustion, taking over his entire body. If his brothers weren’t there, he’d surely just flop and pass out on the floor. “You ready to sleep?” Hunter asks, sensing his little brother’s exhaustion, and Crosshair nods. They all stand up, apart from Crosshair who doesn’t. “What’s wrong, Cross? Can’t you walk?” Tech asks with a raised eyebrow, seeing Crosshair with a nervous look on his face. 

“I can only walk on all fours. It’s difficult now that my legs are...different.” Crosshair whines, making the others give him looks of sympathy, then Tech hums in thought, sitting down and gently grabbing Cross’s leg, pulling his foot to his face, studying it. “It may be difficult, since you aren’t used to walking on your toes, plus you’ve never had haunches before, so that is the biggest change to your anatomy.” Crosshair stretches his other leg out, looking at his larger foot. That makes a lot of sense. Crosshair sighs. “I just...I don’t want to walk around like an animal.” Tech nods as he says “Understandable.” as he lets go of Crosshair’s leg.

Only a moment later, Wrecker walks over to him and scoops him up, making Crosshair yelp in surprise. “Don’t worry, Crossy. We’ve got you. Quite literally, in my case.” Wrecker smiles, then Crosshair returns it, nuzzling his snout into Wrecker’s neck as he’s carried over to his bunk. Wrecker sets Crosshair down, squeezing in next to him as Hunter sits on the other side, then Tech just stands there, noticing that there isn’t a lot of room left. 

Crosshair smiles and pats his lap “You can sit here, if you want? It’ll be more comfortable to pile on, rather than trying to squish together onto one bunk.” Tech nods as he climbs up and sits in Crosshair’s lap, with a helping hand from Crosshair, who pulls him close so Tech won’t fall off while they are asleep. The last thing Crosshair wants to do is hurt his brothers anymore than he already has by not telling them about this, thinking that they’d get rid of him. With a happy sigh, he finally falls asleep, enjoying the company of his brothers. They make him feel safe and loved, being there by his side while he’s in this new and scary form. 

xxx

Hunter opens his eyes groggily, gently sitting up. He rubs his eyes and looks around, smiling when he sees a human Crosshair, with Tech on top of him. Hunter gently reaches over and runs a hand through Cross’s hair, making his brother hum, and a smile appear on his face. Hunter smiles softly, but then frowns. He feels so bad that Crosshair had thought they'd hate him, just because he looked different. 

Hunter sighs. They should have seen the signs that something was wrong with their youngest, he had been acting weird ever since that mission. Almost as if he’s depressed. It had broken Hunter and the rest, but they could have never imagined what had actually caused it. Hunter feels horrible that Crosshair had to go through that pain alone, three times. That's never going to happen again, Hunter won’t let it.

“Hm.” Hunter turns to see Crosshair starting to stir, along with Tech and Wrecker. “Cross!! Yer human again!!” Wrecker yells excitedly, scooping Crosshair into a hug and knocking Tech into Hunter, but Tech and Hunter both just laugh. Crosshair chuckles, and Hunter notices the look of relief on his face. “Yeah, yeah I am.” Wrecker smiles as he pulls Crosshair close, then he looks over. “Are you guys joining in?” He asks, and Hunter chuckles. “Of course.” Tech tells him as he joins the group hug, and Hunter does as well.

They all hear Crosshair sigh happily, making them happy to have helped him, hoping that he won’t run from them again.

xxx

Crosshair watches as the others celebrate the victory they had against the Separatists, they had just taken out a base on the other side of the planet. But Crosshair isn’t celebrating, not at all. There were bombs that were set to go off, and none of them even knew about them. They had almost killed Hunter… He had almost lost his Ori’Vod today.

He groans softly as the familiar feeling fills his stomach, and he sucks in a breath. He’s going to transform, again. “Shit.” He hisses quietly to himself, wrapping an arm around his stomach. He goes to walk away, to hide when he hears-- “You okay, Cross?” Hunter asks, and Crosshair turns to look at him, his helmet is thankfully on, so Hunter and the others can’t see his grimace. “I’m fine, just going for a walk.” Hunter raises an eyebrow, then his eyes widen. “You’re going to transform. Aren’t you?” 

Crosshair doesn’t respond, instead, he just goes to run. But as he steps off of the first step, he lets out a yell at an excruciating pain in his stomach and stumbles down the steps, falling to the ground. He tries to stand up and run away to hide somewhere, but Hunter gets in front of him, kneeling down and making sure that Crosshair doesn’t get up. “Hunter, let me go.” He whimpers, feeling the pain get worse with every passing second. Hunter shakes his head and frowns. 

Crosshair doesn’t think to push Hunter out of the way, because part of him wants him to stay with his brothers, to have them near him this time. Crosshair holds his stomach, about to double over from the pain, but Hunter pulls his baby brother into a tight, comforting hug. “Tell me what to do, how can I help?” Hunter asks, almost begging, pulling Crosshair’s helmet off and looking directly into his eyes, watching as they turn golden yellow. “Get my armor off, please.” Crosshair whines, already feeling it becoming too tight. Hunter nods and starts with his arm pieces, but then Crosshair groans “H-Hunter, please hurry for Kriff’s sake!” He half cries out, making Hunter panic. He’s about to call for Tech and Wrecker to help him, but they are already coming out of the ship and kneeling down too, each helping to remove his armour.

Once it is all off, Crosshair finally doubles over, pulling his shirt over his head and dropping it on the ground as he clutches his stomach. He feels someone’s hand on his back, rubbing it soothingly. It feels weird when his fur starts to grow, because it’s short and stubbly, so it feels itchy for a few moments until it grows out more and becomes furry. He yells as his bones crack and rearrange, letting out an inhuman growl as his arms and legs keep getting longer and his hands and feet become clawed, his pants partially shred and rip, a tail growing out from his backside, making him yelp from shock rather than pain, because he’s gotten used to feeling it grow as he transforms. 

He bares his sharp teeth as his face elongates into a snout, ears pointy and furry, moving to the top of his head. His fur is thick and fluffy now as the transformation finishes, letting him huff in relief. He hums when he feels someone still rubbing his back, so he turns his head to see Tech smiling at him comfortingly. He returns the smile, standing slightly so he can shuffle around to sit on the ground. Crosshair hangs his head low and whispers “Sorry.” 

It’s barely audible to Tech and Wrecker, but Hunter hears it loud and clear. “Cross, you have nothing to be sorry about.” Hunter says as he crouches down and wraps his arms around his little brother’s neck, holding him close. Crosshair hugs him back, a few tears falling as he sits there, feeling vulnerable while Hunter hugs him, bringing some comfort. Hunter pulls away from him “No more running away, okay? Because we’re here for you now. We always have been and always will be.” 

Crosshair nods as Hunter wipes the tears from his furry cheeks. Tech then makes a small cough to grab their attention. “Now that you are in this form, we can help you walk. Only if you want to, no pressure, Vod’ika.” Crosshair goes to decline Tech’s offer, but, after a moment in thought, he realises that if he can walk on two legs in this form, he won’t have to walk like an animal anymore. “Sure, thank you.”

All three smile at him, then Wrecker walks over. “Here, let me help you up.” Crosshair nods, wrapping a large arm around Wrecker’s shoulders, as his brother hoists him up. Crosshair's eyes widen when he realizes that Wrecker only reaches to the middle of his chest, and the others reach up to his ribcage. He whimpers a bit, never realizing exactly how much bigger he is. But then he feels a soft pat on his side, looking down to see Hunter smiling comfortingly at him. 

“It’s okay, we aren’t scared at all. Although you aren’t exactly our little brother anymore.” Hunter jokes softly, making Crosshair smile and let out a chuckle, Tech also hums. “I’ve been reading up on werewolves, it seems that when you transform, you use up your energy, so you should be eating. I’m guessing that has not been happening?” Crosshair nods sheepishly, making Tech nod. “We’ll get you some food after we do some walking practice, now it’s going to be difficult the first few times, just because you’ve never walked like this before. Walking on your toes and with haunches, I mean.” Crosshair nods, making a noise of understanding as he goes to take a step. But he stumbles.

He almost falls, but Wrecker and Hunter both steady him together. “Woah, careful.” Hunter tells him, and Crosshair nods, growling in frustration. But then he takes another step, stumbling a bit but not falling. “Yes!!” Wrecker cheers, and Hunter smiles and pats Crosshair’s side. “Great job, Cross!!” Crosshair smiles brightly, he knows that being a werewolf is going to be difficult, but he’s going to try his best, even if it means taking one step at a time. So his first step will be to learn and practice to walk on two legs, and quite literally taking one step at a time as he stumbles his way into his new life, knowing that he’ll get there, one day...

Taglist: @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life @lightning-wolffe

[straightouttaneptune]

Judith II

Pairing: Carl Grimes x Reader

Warning: Sooo it’s like really fluffy y’all.

A/N: Due to popularity, “Judith” has made a comeback, for my 500 followers fic queue! 

Also, I’d just like to say 16 year old me will always be a white man’s ***** for Carl Grimes and Carl Grimes only. He and Judith deserved so much better 😭 

———————————————————————

“Momma?” The door opened by the small hands of a now 4-year old Judith, waking up her ‘Bubbie’.

“Shh, Y/N’s still sleeping.” Carl picked up the toddler, placing her in between you and him, telling her to keep quiet while you slept.

Today was one of those days where waking up was a blessing. The morning sunlight sneaking in through the window fell softly on your closed eyelids, the covers felt fluffier than it usually did, and the warm presence of 2 people could be felt right next to you.

You tried your hardest not to smile as you heard Carl’s morning voice, talking to who could only be Judith. Judith cooed in reply, her little fingers grabbing at your sprawled out hair.

“Judy...”

You internally giggled to yourself as Carl let out an exasperated sigh, Judith chuckling happily at her Bubbie’s smile.

Wanting to be in the moment, you fluttered your eyes open. You first met your gaze with Carl, who noticed right away and looked back at you with those love-sick eyes. He couldn’t get over how ethereal you looked, even with bed hair. The zombie apocalypse thing had normalized women without makeup, anyways.

“Good morning.” He spoke again with that voice, making you melt into the sheets even more. Judith giggled as she watched her ‘parents’, still holding onto your lock of hair.

“Good morning, baby.” You replied as Carl placed a small peck on your cheek, holding himself up on his elbow.

“And you, cutie pie.” You turned your head slightly upwards to Judith, who looked back at you with her beautiful copper eyes. 

Judith looks over from you to Carl, mumbling “snackies” which you assume translates to “I want food” in baby.

“Why don’t we just have breakfast in bed today? It’s such a pretty morning.” You said stretching yourself out on the huge bed, fully content as you imagined a plate of waffles in bed.

“Why not. I got apple sauce on my last run. So Judy won’t be making a mess.” Carl swiftly picked the little girl up, telling you to wait while he made preparations. You accepted gratefully, sitting up with your back against the headboard to look out the window. 

It had been 4 years since the prison breakout, and you weren’t proud to say that time had made things a lot easier. It wasn’t easy to be apart from people you considered family for so long, but being in the farm felt so right. The walls stood strong, there were no enemies like the Governor or some random looters, because no one would ever find the three of you here.

“Y/N?” You glanced at the doorway to see your favorite breakfast, which Carl was holding with a knowing look. One look at him relaxed the shoulders you didn’t notice were tensed up.

“Momma!” Judith jumped up onto the bed, holding a packet of apple sauce with a wide grin, looking satisfied with the breakfast she usually doesn’t get to have.

Placing her on your lap, you look the tray from him, placing it next to you.

“Thank you, babe.”

“It’s no problem. I got french toast for myself, too. Now, I know something’s on your mind.” He got under the covers, kind eyes encouraging you to talk to him.

“Don’t- uh, get me wrong, y’know, I love it here.” You started off sort of rocky, looking out the window once again to see the green field stretching out for what seemed like forever. “I just wonder if it’s selfish of me to love being in this moment, without them. I know we’ll go look for them when Judith is older, but is doing it now the right thing to do?” 

You took a bite out of your waffle as you waited for him to reply.

Setting his hand over yours, he squeezed it gently. “I wonder that myself, too, sometimes, but... honestly? I think it’s okay. I think we earned the right to be a little selfish.” He did that smile at you again, and that was enough for your nerves to calm down.

After taking a moment to collect your thoughts, you whispered;

“Yeah, maybe we did.” Your eyes look clearer this time, and when you look out the window, you only see hope for the future, and hope that your past family is doing alright.

“C’mon, momma, waffles gon get cooold!” Judith pulled at your pajamas, making you burst out laughing at her cute remark.

“I love you two.” Carl places a loving peck to the both of you, letting you know that things right now are how it’s meant to be.

“I love you two too.”

-

@sophia-gwendolyn​ @finallyforgotten​ Gonna tag the 2 of you because you guys made this happen ;)