#like ok so he’s trying to be good but all he knows is being bad and no one believes him and he doubts he can do it himself.

[seungfl0wer]

*Daddy Chan*

Daddy Series:

Bangchan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Han | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin

Contains Smut:

A/N: I could have kept going with this and yes it’s already long. But like- Chans the definition of this series ok? 😂

-💜

•He’s just in his element.

•If any of them have a daddy thing it’s 100% him.

•He treats you like a princess.

•Spoils the fuck out of you.

•Gets grumpy when you try and pay for anything because how dare you.

•He’s such a gentleman.

•You’ll never have to open your own doors.

•He enjoys taking long showers together and after

•He loves having you sit infront of him brushing your hair for you.

•Matching outfits, matching jewelry.

•He’s so easy to talk to too.

•If you’re having a bad day, you know you can just curl up with him and cry.

•He’s great at consoling you when anything happens.

•Holding you tightly to him as he reminds you about how amazing you are.

•He’s super clingy honestly.

•If you’re with him he’s always gotta be touching you in some way.

•Hand holding, Legs touching. Something.

•You keep him more grounded than you probably know.

•He finds almost anything you do super cute.

•Oh this man just gets all cheesy when you’re pouting. Finds it so fucking cute.

•Definitely doesn’t have a whole folder of songs for your birthday or anniversary.

•You’re literally like a fire to him and he’s the moth.

•It’s really hard to ever really really upset him.

•He’s pretty level headed.

•Most days if you’re being grumpy or cranky he’ll sit with you asking what’s the matter and how he can help.

•If you’re giving him attitude almost always he can make you stop with just that look.

•He has the habit of telling you way to sweetly “fix your attitude princess or I’ll have to fix it for you. Be good for daddy”

•He’s really to soft, but when he needs to be stern he does it in a way that still makes you feel so safe.

•He’s really just a safe space. You’ll never feel like your emotions are too much with him.

•He constantly will reassure you.

•He sends you such loving messages too, long paragraphs of why he loves you.

•Never not having a good morning or good night text. Even if you just got off the phone.

•It feels like taboo to him not too.

•He’s not a super jealous type, but he’s protective.

•He knows you love him so much, your eyes never leaving his.

•But how can he trust others when you’re just so cute.

•He’ll hover over you when you’re out sometimes. Like he’s waiting. Ready to attack anyone who dares upset him princess.

•Constantly hugs yous tightly burring himself into you saying “mine” cutely.

•He’s really just wrapped around your finger and he’s fine with that.

ੈ♡˳Smut Below

•He has almost 2 personality’s.

•The super sweet loving one where he wants to take it so slow.

•He’ll eat you out for hours making sure you cum before you even fuck.

•He talks so much. He talks you through it 100%.

•He makes just as much noises as you do tbh.

•He’s a missionary lover for sure.

•Always wanting to see your pretty face. Plus how else is he gonna kiss you?

•He’s just so sensual and passionate.

•Other times he- can just lose himself.

•Stressful day? He’s having you on your knees while he face fucks you.

•He’s definitely into free use with you especially waking you up with head or his dick just slowly pushing into you.

•All with complete consent. He’ll never do anything without asking you prier and establishing boundaries.

•Has a safe word and does the color system.

•He can get ahead of himself sometimes. Losing it with you.

•Pushing your face into the bed fucking you like he hates you.

•Those beautiful hands of his leaving bright red hand prints on your ass.

•Or wrapped around your neck like a choker. He also really enjoys having you suck his fingers.

•Breeding kink. Breeding kink. Breeding kink.

•He’s also somehow so good at degrading you while making it sound so- sweet?

•”My dirty little princess, you’re soaked just from kissing?”

•He has one of those machines that can fuck you while he’s not home. And of course a custom made dildo that is a mold of his cock.

•Loves FaceTiming you while on tour guiding you through your orgasm.

•Always teases you and doesn’t let you cum at first. Not until you’re begging well enough.

•This man is also team remote vibe.

•He just thinks it’s so damn adorable watching you squirm while you’re out.

•He’s not much better though. He can’t keep his hands to himself.

•Could be having dinner out and he’s gonna be knuckles deep into your sopping hole till he can’t handle it.

•100%. Fucks you infront of mirrors. Not only so you can watch how well he fucks you.

•But so he can tell you things like “look how beautiful you are when you’re cumming around my cock”

•Like I said he’s definitely a talker so something’s he says are:

•”Daddy’s gonna fill you so full princess. I’m gonna fuck you till I know you’re pregnant.”

•”Don’t you run from me, I’m not done with you yet”

•”God it’s like you were made to take my cock princess.”

•”Daddy loves you, love you so fucking much.”

•And one of his favorites “you say you can’t take it anymore but you’re pretty hole is telling me she wants more”

•King of aftercare.

•On days he goes a little harder he’s making sure you know he loves you.

•He has you wrapped in his arms while he talks to you.

•Likes to sing to you to calm you down from intense orgasms.

•Warm baths with candles, and snacks.

•Kinda like Minho he puts one of his hoodies in the dryer for you.

•Making sure it smells like him before he wraps you in the warmth.

•You’re basically trapped for a while because he just wants to hold you.

•He really loves you and he wants to make sure you always know that.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp @ldysmfrst @felixleftchickennugget @0omillo0 @jellymochii @stilltrynafuckingtumble @catlove83 @delulkpopstan143 @hyunjins-orange-slice-too

[stealingpotatoes]

EVERYONE GREAT NEWS REWRITE ANON RETURNED AND BLESSED US W MORE! i'll copy & paste the rest of the asks under the cut ⬇️ it's pretty long but worth the read (ive left my own notes in pink)

[continued from screenshot] We didn’t come up with a new name for Kylo Ren/Ben Solo but we did come up with a new arc and I put him in a traditional Alderaanian cape in the concept art sketches because he deserves to be an Organa (potes notes: YES!!!). I also gave him a lightning scar instead of a lightsaber scar because it made a bit more sense.

Our general plan was that yes, he’s still evil, at least a bit. His parents and uncle are awe-inspiring war heroes as well as being incredibly busy making sure the entire Galaxy doesn’t collapse in on itself in the power vacuum left behind by the Empire. Luke is part of a humanitarian aid/Geneva Convention type wing of the New Republic and Kylo finds himself both feeling like he lacks the means to prove himself and like they’re not doing enough to squash the threat of insurgence - which is still a clear threat and there have been multiple attempts on his mother’s life that have left the family scared. He absorbs certain parts of his mother and father’s political conduct; Leia’s willingness to fight for what’s right and Han’s general impulsiveness.

Anyway keep that in mind. He makes a stupid bid to try and prove himself by trying to fight off a whole imperial remnant cell alone “Just like the Jedi used to do.” and ends up going completely missing. Tl/dr: he’s super close to death and the big bad of the movie steps in to save him, teaching him what he always wanted to learn - how to fight and defend the people you love rather than focusing on connection to the force. Kylo doesn’t see the significance of that side of things, both because his parents don’t have an interest in it and because he’s grown up with tales of the daring exploits of Master Luke taking on ten people at once and chopping robots to bits. He just wants to make people proud of him. (OHHH THIS IS SO GOOD SO SO MUCH BETTER)

He’s pretty young when this happens too, and eventually his mind is twisted to believe that the only way to keep everyone safe is dictatorship. He’s grown up in a long, slow, difficult democracy with constant political unrest and everyone’s described how powerful and stable the Empire was his whole life - doesn’t matter that they were talking about how cool it was that they beat it. He still absorbed all that. (THIS IS SUCH A GOOD CHARACTER MOTIVATION and also great setup for themes/discussions on radicalisation and its like poetry it rhymes w anakin's fall omg)

Anyway, flash forward to the time of the films. He’s not a Sith, he can’t manage to push himself that far into the dark side. But he wants to be. He’s got a complex about it, he’s obsessed with getting stronger because then maybe they’ll be proud of me. He loses his first fight with Rey, not because she’s strong in the force at this point, but because he’s trained himself to the point of exhaustion after being reprimanded for a minor failure in interrogating Poe. He can barely move and he’s on the verge of fainting when they corner him in fact. He’s practically addicted to the pain of overtraining himself because that pain is what connects him to the dark side. (GOOD FIX!! 10/10 writing omg)

When Rey actually becomes a more formidable opponent in the force, he asks her “Who trained you?” and she tells him it was Han, not knowing the blow this is going to strike. This gets in his head. Badly. Han never understood the force when he was a kid, and was still not the best at being emotionally vulnerable (he was a great dad! But he was still the man who said “I know.” to “I love you.” (oop yep ok see ur point LOL)). Kylo isn’t to know that Han was FORCED to overcome this stuff through a brief stay in absolute hell. He asks what she can possibly have that he doesn’t, how is she better than him? And when he lashes out at Rey, telling her about the Han he knew, she doesn’t believe him and calls him a liar and a terrible son. This fight (which takes place on water) ends up with Rey almost drowning as Kylo throws a massive force tantrum, and Kylo having a breakdown under the sea in a force air bubble after the fight is over.

I think I’ll do a couple more asks because this one has been super long! I’m sorry if this was a chore to read I just thought I’d share if you liked the last one hah.

--------------------------------------------------

Rewrite anon again! I’m sorry if this is getting tedious!

We had a general plan for Kylo Ren’s redemption where Rey would be in danger of falling to the dark side by the end of the second film (IM LISTENING), and Kylo would already be on the path to questioning things after some hard hitting blows

Death of Luke (his master) (;-;)

Rey was trained by and kind of adopted by Han and has become the galaxy’s beacon of hope. Maybe it is all on him. And she loves Han so much that it’s hard for his new master to twist the facts on him anymore.

The third film would be a fucked up family reunion type bit where Kylo begs for forgiveness and him and Han set off to try and save Rey together. (YESSSSSSS!!! omg this is everything to me holy shit)

Thanks for the listen! I hope these aren’t too annoying. (IM LOVING IT)

---------------------------------------

Rewrite anon again (sorry). Wanted to mention Leia, Poe and Finn.

Leia is dealing with a massive insurgence threat which is why she sends Rey (galaxy’s last hope) away with Han (good at hiding. Also the only person she could both trust and spare).

Finn and Poe both comment a lot on how Rey’s galactic significance makes her blind to people’s lives. The New Order might keep her alive because she’s valuable, and Kylo might listen to her, but Finn and Poe are both canon fodder to both Kylo and the New Order. Hierarchy of lives and all that. (oooo yes that'd be such a fun like... counterpoint to the whole Skywalker Saga & fate-destiny-soap-opera)

Poe used to be a fighter pilot but is now more of a political leader and provides a necessary voice in the senate to backwater outer rim planets. He’s Leia’s political mentor (i assume you meant mentee/student?) with none of her royal manners and all of her intensity.

Finn isn’t exactly a clone, but he is grown in a lab. He’s more of a super-soldier than a clone, designed at the genetic level to be basically eugenics’ perfect man. (puts on my CATWS stan hat im listening) He becomes a field agent/espionage/sabotage type guy after defecting from the New Order because he doesn’t want to be involved in active combat any more, even though it’s hardwired into him and he has to fight it the whole way. Luke takes a liking to Finn before his death and teaches him about the importance of forging your own identity first before you start to think about where you’ve come from.

Hope you like the ideas lol we had a lot.

------------------------------------------------

Final (?) ask from rewrite anon maybe. It’s about Han because we did kinda just make the Han movies I realise.

Han saves Rey from pirates after she finally cheats herself offworld for the first time and finds herself overwhelmed. After losing Kylo to the New Order he has long since realised his shortcomings in parenting and while he works up the courage to reach out to his son, he uses Rey kind of like a do-over child. (...healthy!)

Han ends up stuck with Rey after Luke’s death and with Leia pinned down on all sides, and as well as trying to give her super DIY teaching, he realises she can talk to Luke. Understandably this hits him like a truck while he’s grieving his friend, and him and Luke have a kind of Haymitch and Katniss communicating-without-communicating relationship. Han can’t see or hear Luke, but he knows when Luke’s trying to use timing to tell him something. (AGH I LOVE THISSSSSSSSSSS YES using a THG comparison makes me love it even more)

Han also survives until the end of the films. Harrison Ford would hate me for this he wants that guy to die so bad but no the smuggler from the fuck end of nowhere with no cosmic significance, no nothing, just the power of love and a gun makes it to the end. The survivor’s guilt is insane. (ohh LOVE THATTT!!! ESPECIALLY W UR EARLIER THING OF FINN N POE SEEING THEMSELVES AS CANON FODDER WITHOUT A GALACTIC DESTINY)

Hope you enjoyed reading these and that they weren’t too much of a bore. Maybe I’ll write some of this stuff down if people like it. (EVERYONE TELL ANON HOW MUCH YOU LIKE THIS RIGHT NOW)

---------------------------------------------------------

Rewrite anon again (sorry)

Rey does of course lose her hand (fair, as is tradition) and she replaces it with a shitload of gadgets massively egged on by Han and Chewie. I think she’d have a special glove for it kind of like the equalist gloves in LOK. (SICK!)

Would also be great to have a ‘jedi’ protagonist who is even less aware of standard practice than Luke and will try definitely illegal moves like changing the length of the blade mid fight or kicking sand in your opponent’s eyes. (LMAO amazing omg)

---------------------------------------- (that was the last ask)

Me and my friend had some fun trying to rewrite the sequel trilogy a while ago and I think the best idea we had was Luke dies and Han and Rey get stranded on some nowhere planet where he has to haphazardly attempt to teach her years of jedi training in like a week entirely by reading out of Luke’s notes (somehow even worse than Luke’s extremely DIY training in the OT).

This isn’t at all based on the ‘Han has the force’ theory it’s literally just crabby atheist old man Han Solo and his dead best friend’s religious texts that are totally useless to him vs the world.

i LOVE that, disney needs to get you two rewriting the sequels STAT

(commission info // tip jar!)

[dgttwisted]

Together

n2 squad aka Leona x Vil x Jamil idea inspired by @mellosdrawings

this drabble is crossing cannons aka not cannon cannon aka (don't think to hard on it i wrote this because i had a cute thought an wanted to wright it)

-

according to the schedule is which dorm takes care of Lilith an Grim which week. as per usual when Vil gets Lilith for a week he spoils the crap out of her. This week will be no exception however he had something a little different planned.

-the night before the new week-

"as you know this week our dorm will be in charge of Lilith's care"

"i know?"

"lucky you"

"well i wanted to do something special we have discussed having kids in the future an i thought all of us could try helping Lilith this week together as a unit"

"sure I'm in as far as kids go Lilith is no where near as hyperactive as Cheka is"

"hate to rain on your parade but that might not work well"

"why not?"

Jamil dramatically points at himself

"oh yea she's scared stiff of you"

"how could i forget she cried her eyes out when you ran into her at night during your stay at the dorm for practice"

"didn't you save her though? during the whole Styx rescue?"

"she was asleep the whole time i doubt she knows what happened unless someone told her I'm pretty sure she has no idea that, that occurred"

"worry not I'll butter her up so when you make your appearance she won't be as scared"

"we'll figure it out sense Vil is dead set on this being a team effort an all" Leona said in a rather dry sarcastic tone which earned him a pillow to the face from Vil.

--the beginning of said week--

Vil had only knocked on the door once before hearing the shuffling as the door swung open Lilith jumped into Vil's arms "VIL!!!!!!"

"my little star!" Vil scoops her up an swings her around

Leona had the biggest smirk on his face he just knows Vil spoils the crap out of her to get that reaction our of her.

"hi Leona...are you sleeping over to?"

"heh yea something like that"

"your not allowed to steal our bed like you did last time jerk!" the shrill voice of grim caused them both to look down at the displeased fur ball. "i'll set you on fire if you do"

"i'd like to see you try-"

"so Lilith not that i need it but i will be getting a little extra help this week watching over you"

"i don't see Rook an Epel"

"that's because its not them this time its Leona an someone else who is very special to me they will be coming over later"

"ok you're here so i know i'll have fun" Vil giving her little kisses on the cheek for that one, Lilith is Vil's trial daughter would have loved to adopt her but was informed it was out of the question.

while Leona an Vil where playing with Lilith they had Jamil sneak into the kitchen the plan is to hopefully bribe Lilith with food to forget her trauma....

Lilith was holding a little tea party she tied ribbons in Leona's hair who just let it happen because Lilith seemed to be having a good time.

"a splendid party like always Lilith!" whenever Lilith is happy she glows so it makes it very easy to tell if she is lying about liking something but she gets rather embarrassed when you point that out.

Jamil had a trey of sweets he only took two steps into the room when Lilith lifted up her head saw him an screamed. 'about what i expected' Jamil thought to himself right before a plastic cup smacked him in the face curtsy of a scared Lilith.

Vil scooped her up trying to calm her down but she was wailing "NO NO GET AWAY!!! MONSTER!!!!"

monster probably hurt him the worse but considering how he treated her while be Over blotted he expected that reaction. he placed the trey on the floor an left the room.

it took Vil quite some time before Lilith calmed down an when she did Leona scooped her up an fed her some sweets gave Vil the look of 'i got this one you get him' an Vil left to check on Jamil

"i apologize i knew she was scared of you but i didn't think it was still that bad"

"you have nothing to be sorry about....this is my own fault"

"i know you didn't mean to-"

"take it out on her? yea well when i over blotted i did! i swatted the rest away an tormented a toddler...."

"but you also saved her even if she doesn't know that you did"

"she won't ever know an that's fine...I'm normally better with kids you know? if we did this whole practice thing with any other kid i could have shown off how capable i am an-" Vil kissed Jamil on his cheek

"i know how capable you are"

--

Leona swaying Lilith about trying to get her in a sleepy mood but she seems to shaken up to sleep. "hay squirt want to hear a bedtime story?" Lilith nodded

"k..." shit guess he actually has to now "long ago...actually it wasn't that long ago probably a week ago a big bad guy with blue flames for hair kidnapped a princess an challenged 5 hero's to stop his evil plan an save the princess they had to split up in order to have a chance of beating him leaving many trials an tests along the way on of those hero's was yours truly an the other was Jamil" hearing his name even during the story made Lilith tremble a little but leona swung her around a bit before nuzzling her face making her giggle "how can a monster be a hero you might be asking yourself? monsters can learn to grow from there mistakes i to had moments of being a monster but i grew out of it" for the most part.

"anyway all the hero's including the monster agreed that we had to save the princess as well as stop him he made it real tough you know every time we made a big attack he kept holding the princess just out of reach so we couldn't save her but i guess it takes a monster to know a monster because the monster saved the princess dove over an grabbed her from the clutches of the bad guy"

"Jamil really do that?"

"yup saw him do it with my own eyes"

"...." she was still fuming "listen kid you don't gotta forgive him for what he did don't blame you if you don't, but i promise you he regrets hurting you an he is trying i promise"

"can i get a different bed time story?"

"nope, you're stuck with the one i gave you"

"Vil would have told me another one"

"I'm not Vil"

Lilith stuck her tunge out him an Leona repeated the motion back at her. "good night little herbivore" he tucks Lilith in an she is sound asleep in minutes.

next morning Jamil making breakfast in the kitchen his plan was just to make food an leave before Lilith woke up. he stopped when he heard a ruffling "grim is that you? you have to wait until Lilith gets her share before you eat it all-" he turned an froze when he saw Lilith peeking from behind the wall just staring at him. he turned away from her so she wouldn't have to look at his face.

he heard tiny foot steps he could tell she was standing right behind him. "thank you" his head went up but he didn't turn around he wasn't expecting that.

"thank you for saving me....Leona told me you saved me from a monster..." she then kicks the back of his leg "i still don't like you though" an she ran away to go get dressed into not P jays

Jamil left standing in the kitchen alone with his thoughts till Vil an Leona came by. "you didn't have to do that"

"what tell her the truth? well i did hopefully she'll throw less stuff at you now-" Jamil rested his head on Leona's shoulder in a very subtle way of saying thank you which Jamil was to shy to say. Leona an Vil hugged him close let him know he wasn't alone an they would figure this all out together.

"hay can i eat food now or do i have to wait till your done hugging an shit" that earned Grim a smack from Vil "you better not say such vile things around Lilith"

"ow! i'd never after all im her role model"

"yikes maybe we should have Lilith move dorms so she has better role models"

"I'm all for that, i say Pomefiore she would have much better role models including Vil"

grim blew out flames "NO SHE'S NOT GOING ANYWHERE"

"aw you do care about her"

"duh! She's my henchmen!"

the three of them laughed as they helped get Lilith an Grim ready for class today.

[alicefromwhichplanet]

(For the kids)How do you feel being your parents’ child? What kind of person is your carrier/sire?

Skystrophe:

Oh, these questions are… unusual. (Look around anxiously) So am I allowed to say anything..? Will they watch this show…? Ok…

I wanna say that many bots say it’s lucky for me to have Optimus and Megatron as my parents… but the truth is, having them as parents really brings me a lot of pressure. It’s… not so easy to be the only child of two extraordinary people, and you know you’re not so extraordinary yourself. I mean, I am only “just ok” at many things they can easily do great. It’s just… I’m still trying to figure out.

My carrier is a very strong bot. By that, I mean he’s powerful, not only in battles and strategies, but in the will. I think there’s nothing in the world that can defeat him, or make him feel defeated. When he’s with us, he’s always happy, confident, full of energy. When sire feels unsure, he is there to boost his spirits. When I feel insecure, knowing that he is there for me, always makes me feel better.

My sire, on the other hand, is umm, stricter. I know he means well. He told me all about those stories of heroes and primes, and responsibility comes with strength. He’s a lovable bot, of course. And he’s gentle with me. It’s just, I don’t know. Maybe it’s the way he talks. He makes me feel… nervous.

Jinglestorm:

Being my parents’ child, it’s a lot of fun! They both like to play, so I’ve got plenty of time playing with them. We go racing on the plains, have a picnic in the woods, or play chess and other board games at home. Oh! And they love video games too! We also play video games.

And my sire, he’s a wonderful bot. He’s fun, energetic. He talks a lot, which is sometimes a little bit annoying. Hmm. But he’s actually the decision maker in our house, kind of? Him and my carrier take turns being the brain. But because of my carrier’s “unstable” issue, sire did play the brain most of the time, though he sometimes came up with bad ideas and I had to stop him from dragging us all in.

My carrier is— very well known among us kids. The cool triple changer, the only one alive by now.* He is also not very stable, and we know that. Besides that, my carrier went through a lot in past wars. Sometimes he’s still haunted by his past ghosts. But he doesn’t need to worry, because I am always there for him.

*It’s my headcanon and part of the plots of Heroic Nonsense, where Blitzwing’s triple changer form came from a secret experiment project carried out by autobots. The project failed because most of the subjects suffered serious complications— they developed split personality disorders and became overly aggressive and easier to get killed in the battlefield. Blitzwing is the only survivor.

Clobber:

Hmm, I don’t know. I guess I’m lucky to be my parents’ child. I’m happy and comfortable living with them. My parents knew each other for very long before I was born. They have a tacit understanding that made everything simple. We three are quite alike as well.

My carrier is the brain of our family. It’s easy to tell. Sire even calls her “General” as a loving nickname. And also, she’s really my role model. Her talents go beyond military strategies. She has wisdom and courage to deal with a lot of trivial stuff as well. As for my sire, he’s more of a kind-hearted, good tempered bot. He cooks really well and takes all the gardening work. By that I mean, work like making a fishpond in our backyard. More delicate job like planting is done by me. I heard that they were notorious decepticon war machines in the past. I always imagine how badass they can be! But I don’t have the luck to witness that. All I got are two big bots fond of their own hobbies and get along well with the neighbors.

Just for the reminder:

Skystrophe— Megatron and Optimus’s son, Megatron is the carrier

Jinglestorm— Blitzwing and Bumblebee’s daughter, Blitzwing is the carrier

Clobber— Strika and Lugnut’s daughter, Strika is the carrier

More worldbuilding see my fanfic Old World, New World

[voidandabyssal]

Heeeyy, i don't know if you do platonic asks so you can ignore this if you don't

A random scenario popped up my mind and i cant stop thinking about it, ok so the star boys with a teammate that is basically a tired dad/mom for them

i just imagine them being tired as heck and Dream, Blue and ink running in circles around them, or them protecting the boys from error or nightmare with a big BONK on their heads

I wanted to see your take on this, how the star bois would behave around their tired ass dad/mom friend lol. (Lmao i can't stop seeing error and the dad/mom friend having a absolute HATE for each other while ink is in the corner like this:🧍‍♂️)

[I deeply apologize if there's any translation errors 🙏]

No need to apologise! I love doing all types of asks, platonic ones are awesome! This was fun thank you for sending an ask in!❤️

Parent friend definitely has their hands full with the star sanses. One on one isn’t so bad most of the time but those three all have the potential for great amounts of chaos that triples every time they’re close to one another.

It’s like herding cats trying to keep them all healthy, happy and fed. They definitely run circles around you, especially Blue with his insane amount of energy. You’re going to get very strong from the amount of times you carry them by the scruff of their neck.

In fights your main tactic to protect them is just by yoinking them away from Nightmare or the bad Sanses and hauling ass away from them. You probably don’t have the same level of magic power as anyone else in a fight does, so you substitute by being extremely strong. BONK! Indeed anon. Thats your signature move in fact. Error and Nightmare learn to fear your bonks in battle.

Error despises you. He literally develops a fight or flight reaction every time he even hears you approaching him. It is on sight with you two. Poor ink is just standing in the corner trying to get you to both get along before just giving up and joining the fight.

(This is you and error⬆️)

Nightmare despises you less only because you tend to avoid him in fights unless its a direct one on one with dream. In which case you’re getting involved LOL. The bad Sanses (Killer, Dust, Horror) enjoy watching the times when you’re kicking Errors ass instead of theirs.

Blue and Dream appreciate your care the most. Dream is very touched by your care, especially in the early stages of your friendship. He’s so used to having to be the caregiver that experiencing someone trying to help him, he finds it foreign at first. Dream’s suspicious of you initially. You barely know him and yet you’re showing such care, he can’t help but be reminded of all the villagers in his au who were kind only to take advantage of him. Once he senses your aura of kindness and care does he fully relax around you.

Dream learns to relax around you, when it’s just you two he doesn’t feel like he has to put up this brave front. He can be tired around you, tell you his fears, his worries. Without being worried that his public persona as this beacon of positivity will be stained. Dream also (eventually) learns to stop self sacrificing for others and give everyone else the chance to help out.

Blue is second place, only because he’s so used to taking care of people and being cared back (Blues the only one with a loving, living family lmao). He understands your want to care for others the most and encourages you to train and get stronger, while also making sure you don’t burn out at the same time. You spend a lot of time with Blue training together, cooking food for the other two, etc. You also spend the most time in Blues au. So you’re close with his brother as well.

Now don’t get me wrong, Ink does appreciate you a lot as well. Ink is absolutely the type to get so caught up in something he forgets to eat or sleep. So having you around is good in keeping him in tip top shape.

If you’re creative then the two of you definitely spend time in the doodlesphere drawing. Ink is always interested in what your drawing. You could give him a stick figure drawing and he would still be really excited and give you tips to improve. If your hobby isn’t drawing then Ink is definitely still interested in what you’ve made. Music, knitting, dance. Ink loves to see others create! Especially his good friends.

You also help Ink learn to manage his vials. You record down what having a specific amount of each paint does to him and help figure out how much he needs in order to feel the full range of emotions.

Ink just wishes you would stop attacking Error on sight. Especially if the two have agreed to not get in each other’s way anymore.

[braclii]

WELL... ok you asked for it . but be warned that its just me taking diluc crumbs and interpreting them however i want because if hyv won't give me more diluc lore i'll just write my own

first of all. its very obvious that diluc is literally batman. and while the fandom and the story itself focuses on the anti-hero persona i don't think we focus enough on the man under the mask. one thing we know about bruce wayne is that that man is a player. he will flirt with everyone to get what he wants. while i don't think that diluc is the same exact way, i think he Does play into the most popular bachelor in town role to navigate situations and perhaps cope with all that mental issues he's got.

in the webtoon (which is the place where we learn most about him) we first see him as the rich gentleman who is loved by everyone in the city. he mediates between dottore and seamus like "let's just have fun gentlemen 🤍" yet at the end we see him not caring about either of them and trying to handle the situation himself.

now you might say that this sounds more like kaeya's facade of a player. he's most likely pretending to get his way. and you wouldn't be wrong, but there's another element to consider: this man can't lie + he's obsessed with honesty and justice.

this brings me to my other point: diluc and kaeya are narrative foils. they contrast each other in Every Way. even their color palettes are opposites of each other. they're so opposites of each other that at the end they end up as the same person. we see this in their personalities as well: while kaeya pretends to be this rogue character (convincing people that he's slacking off, working on his treasure hoarder list that is supposed to be a secret out in the open at a tavern???, pretending to not care about family) if you read between the lines he's actually a good little boy. see example:

not "the same way you threw me out" no. he's more upset about the family legacy. meanwhile diluc, who's supposed to be the foil to kaeya's ""bad boy"" attitude, doesn't give a fuck.

kaeya is a knight that is "destined" to destroy mondstadt, which sums up his "kind and loyal person who pretends to be a bad guy to cope with the trauma and responsibility placed on his shoulders at a young age" personality quite well.

while in contrast diluc is raging and raving about being honest and protecting the city and its people but look at his actions: goes on a 4 year long journey despite people telling him not to, obsessively hunts fatui for personal pleasure (it's "revenge" but is revenge not personal pleasure?), is a wanted vigilante, but he acts like an innocent, well-meaning businessman. let's quote rosaria here:

to conclude this messy and incoherent rant: i think it would only make sense for diluc to be a flirt no matter how subtly. kaeya flirts to keep a facade and diluc keeps a facade to flirt or whatever. and i'd like to make him more batman.

also lets be real "the most eligible bachelor in mondstadt" is not an innocent nickname .

i’m currently going mildly viral on twitter for this tweet:

and it’s really making it clear to me that some of y’all are not playing the same game as i am because like:

my buddy kaeya? my close personal friend kaeya alberich?

like this was a half-baked thought i tweeted out in 30 seconds so you don’t have to agree with the characterization (i’m not even sure i agree with the characterization)

but if y’all are looking me in the eye and telling me that kaeya is unironically a ladies’ man and a player then i’m gonna need you to go back to every single event he’s been in and look at how his shell of facile charm has been ruthlessly and systematically dismantled by the game itself

[witchygagirlwrites]

Greg "Mouse" Gerwitz x Reader

The day Mouse met you his life turned around for the better

Laughter, that was not something Mouse had expected to hear when he walked into the twenty first district with Jay. Yet the sound hit his ears, the laughter wasn’t what he’d call melodic but it was genuine and that was so much better than a fake, practiced laugh. He saw a woman come sliding around the desk, the sergeant behind it shaking her head when she ran smack into Jay “Halstead! I’m gonna kill Ruzek!”

Jay gripped the woman’s arms to steady her and turned her to face him “This is one of the detectives in the unit. She’s normally a lot more professional than this and not threatening to kill anyone or well another cop, well another member of the unit?” She spun to face him, a grin slipping onto her face “You must be Jay’s friend, Greg Gerwitz right?” he nodded, a little stunned by this hurricane of a woman. She was absolutely gorgeous.  “Um you can call me Mouse, everyone else does” she nodded “I’ll decided which I wanna call you once I get to know you”

Jay laughed, “What did Ruzek do?” her eyes widened and she looked between them “That asshole broke my coffee mug!” Then she took off up the stairs, stopping just long enough to hit the palm scanner and held the gate open for them. Mouse watched her go and a smile slipped onto his face “She’s something else” Jay shook his head “Man I wouldn’t, she’ll eat you alive” 

Mouse cut his eyes at Jay, a grin slipping onto his face “If that woman is the death of me, consider me a lucky man” Jay just shook his head and threw his arm over his shoulders “Let's talk Voight into hiring you first”

“Sir can you just check your phone please?” Mouse was trying to convince Voight he could handle this job despite how bad he looked on paper. He needed it, he needed direction. “Check my phone?” Voight asked and he nodded “Yes sir”

Voight pulled his phone out and laughed when he saw that he’d changed his wallpaper to a photo of himself “Cute” he noticed you glancing over Voight’s shoulder as he explained  “I did that in a few seconds, imagine what a hacker could do in a day” 

Voight shrugged “Fine by me but Platt has to sign off on it too” then walked off. The moment Voight was back in his office you held your phone out “Where’s mine?” and he felt a blush heat up his face. Ok maybe Jay was right but damn the way you made him feel and he’d just met you. He shook his head with a small smile “I’ll send you one later sweetheart” and you grinned “Ooh sweetheart? I like it”

He never would’ve imagined he would’ve fallen for one of the detectives in the intelligence unit but little by little he found himself falling for that hurricane he met on day one. You would always give him a smile and be willing to listen on bad days that would even annoy Jay, you never got angry with him for his thoughts being scattered. He’d pulled himself back from addiction but hadn’t been able to breathe life back into himself. He’d been wandering from place to place. The longer he knew you the easier it got to breathe, the slower his thoughts got, the easier sleep came. You weren’t a miracle but you helped him to see that he was worth a future, he was worth good happening to him.

The day he asked you out he was so nervous he’d broken two pencils waiting on the clock to hit time for all of you to get off. He watched you sitting on the edge of Kim’s desk, laughing at something Kevin had said. Your hair was in a braid your sister had put it in and your knuckles were still bruised from getting in a fight with a perp two days before. He’d never seen a more beautiful sight. 

It was like you felt his eyes because you glanced up and smiled at him. He felt his heart flip. He was fairly certain he was already half in love with you. 

When the clock finally hit everyone started gathering their stuff but you walked over to his desk. “Greg” you’d decided about a month in that you were gonna call him by his actual name because “I’m not everyone so I’m not calling you what everyone does”

He smiled and stood up when you got to him “Hey sweetheart” you scratched behind your ear “Um, did you want to talk to me about something? You’ve kinda been staring at me” he felt a blush warm his cheek, he hadn’t meant to be so obvious. “Yeah, is there any way you might want to go out with me?” he waited for the rejection, for you to let him down easy but instead you smiled brightly and kissed his cheek “Thank god because I was tempted to just ask you out!”

Voight made you two fill out a stack of H.R. forms when he found out you were dating, Jay teased Mouse relentlessly that he’d fallen in love the moment you came sliding in threatening to kill Ruzek and then of course your sister had threatened to kill Mouse if he ever hurt you. He took it all in stride because his eyes remained on you. 

The first time you called him your boyfriend at work was when you had to pass him your gun when you and Kevin were taking a perp into an interrogation room. The guy had said “What, your secretary can handle your piece?” you’d “accidently” shoved the guy into a wall and informed him “My boyfriend served two tours in the rangers asshole, fairly certain he can handle my piece long enough for me to get the truth out of your ass” 

He’d felt his heart skip at your words and the pride in your voice. No one had ever been proud to claim him. Someone like you claiming him? That meant everything. When you got back out of interrogation, Adam and Kevin escorted the perp down to holding and you came to get your gun back but noticed the small smile on his face “What are you smiling about?” he shook his head “You claimed me” you grinned and said “You’re mine Gerwitz. Be prepared to get claimed a lot” 

The day you told him you loved him the first time you and Kim had gotten caught up in the middle of a shoot out. It was a close call, a very close call. When you two got out she ran straight for Adam and you ran straight for him.

You hadn’t cared that the entire unit and multiple patrol cars were right there, you pulled him into a kiss and told him “I love you Greg, fuck I love you so damn much” he hadn’t been able to think straight the entire time he had to listen to that damn firefight and not do anything so having you in his arms finally started his brain back. He held you tight, despite your gear pressing into his chest “I love you too sweetheart, so much”

So many years, so many trials, so many tests and tears yet here you were. Mouse looked over to see you and your daughters dancing in the living room. That same laughter he fell in love with now tripled. He’d fallen in love with you so many times over the years. His hurricane. You cut your eyes up at him and smiled, “Come on sir, get in here with me and the girls”

He shook his head and took your hand, the girls giggling as he twirled you around. “I love you Mrs Gerwitz” he told you and you grinned “I love you even more Mr Gerwitz”

[beatcroc]

there's no way the bathroom at peppino's pizza is actually that big but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ . hey ummm anyway.... i care them...... anyway there's a lil ramble on my take on fake pep's like psyche or whatever in tags on the og post if ur into that kinda thing :y

hey! it's a series! fake peppino world tour: [noise] [noisette] [peppino]<- u are here [gustavo] [gerome] [noisette again]

[howtodisappearcompletelyand]

20/10 stars little guy

[bbiniana]

People in this fandom treat Louis like he’s a saint but he was a emotionally and verbally abusive partner to both lestat and Armand a lot of the time (trapping a person you barely like in rebound situationship hell is a different kind of cruel and if Armand and lestat weren’t Armand and lestat and were not abusers themselves people would be able to see this more clearly) was physically violent with Claudia ,Armand and grace, put hands on lestat and was an entire serial killer during the 70s specifically preying on gay men who were down and out, left the first person who helped him in Romania to get put down like a dog, tried to kill a young junkie kid for being stupid and saying dumb shit ( Daniel’s insane lack of empathy during that episode is acknowledged though because telling someone you’ll be better than their dead kid sick) and prostituted women fully knowing it was wrong just so he could keep his family in luxury and was physically and emotionally violent with a chronically ill elderly man who didn’t do anything wrong other than try to hold him accountable . He is an awful person like everyone else in the diabolicule and that’s just a fact. He tends to hide it in this hypocritical genteel veneer, but if you ignore his words and look solely at his actions you’ll see that Saint Louis is not an apt nickname at all. What’s worse is usually only does good things to assuage his guilt ( making claudia after getting an entire community screwed over, the bright young reporter speech after trying to kill Daniel and provoking Armand, making madeleine to make up for constantly neglecting Claudia and picking mentally ill twunks over her).

And ok this is the toxic fruity bloodsucker show and we don’t expect any of these guys to be sweet and wholesome but the way people treat him like he’s done nothing wrong in his relationships grinds my gears.

They are all bad people. Louis was no doubt the victim of manipulation, gaslighting and physical abuse in his relationships but he was also abusive, and we can try to justify his mistreatment of Armand and lestat because they are lestat and Armand but there’s no excuse for his neglect of Claudia, grabbing her that way, ignoring her self harm, going back to her abusive cheating father, choosing Armand(one of her murderers) over her and then spitting on her memory by running right back into the arms of the man who made her life miserable and lead to her death.

That’s the thing about this show, it’s just cruelty and bad decisions and romantic toxicity, it’s very heavy allegory of the way familial and platonic relationships are neglected in favour of romantic ones or used to sustain them. It’s knowing you have failed so many people you claimed to love and having to live with that until the sun fucking explodes because you’re literally immortal, but it’s also the hope that by having time as a completely infinite resource it’s possible unlearn these cycles. Louis and lestat were never healthy or good to each other but there was love there and it showed , and maybe they can find a way to make that enough this time around. I don’t think lestat will get over the events of their first marriage and I think when the self awareness kicks in Louis won’t escape the guilt either and maybe that’s what they both need,

There are always 2 sides.

The discourse around Louis and Lestat being a victim and abuser and nothing more drives me insane.

Something i don't think enough people remember is that the very same reason the fight began in 1×05 (lestat grabbing claudia by the throat when she tries to "take louis away") we see Louis himself do to her in 1×07 when she tries to get Louis to burn Lestat.

They BOTH would harm her rather than live in a world without the other. They are both guilty of abusing her and each other.

There is an implication that a good deal of time passed between Louis and Lestat meeting and the church. Louis expresses that he shares himself with Lestat in a way he only had with Paul. I would assume that goes both ways, to a degree. We know Louis knows at least enough about Nicki to discourage Claudia poking that wound. He also clearly knows that the threat of leaving is his most powerful weapon against Lestat.

Mental abuse is abuse. And Louis abused Lestat mentally for years. Shaming him, ridiculing him, shutting him out, manipulating him into making Claudia (a traumatic moment for him, whether Louis understands the depths of it or not) by promising to give him what he's being denying him, promising to never put him through what he fears the most.

Louis admits to purposely making Lestat suffer. He admits he was warned that Claudia would suffer and he wanted her anyway because he needed to feel redeemed. He is not innocent. He is not a trapped, weak victim. He made choices to hurt both Lestat and Claudia time and time again.

Does this justify Lestat's actions in 1×05? Obviously not. But we now know Louis was not willing to stop the fight. He taunted Lestat the same way he taunted the Alderman. He was unleashing years of frustrations just as Lestat was. His priority was not to protect Claudia, it was to hurt Lestat, consequences be damned.

I hate the drop scene as much as the next person and Lestat has admitted he will never earn forgiveness for what he did. But if you view Louis as some squeaky clean victim who was manipulated, trapped, and abused by Lestat you are missing so much of what this show is conveying.

We will always tend to paint ourselves as the hero of our own story. It is hard to accept your faults or that you hurt people you love. It is much easier to shift that blame on to someone else, to frame them as the villian. But life is not usually that black and white. Claudia had harsh words for them both in her diary, even before they got to Europe, for a reason. They both made hurtful mistakes with her, both treated her like a pawn in their relationship instead of a person, both harmed her, took away her choice, never prioritized her.

That is the great tragedy. That she never had a choice and was not allowed to be her own person. And in the end, they both are responsible for her misery and her death. That's what makes the reunion scene so important. They have been grieving her and carrying that guilt alone, all the while longing for the comfort of the other for 70+ years. Louis has found clarity in his memories, he has accepted his role in their suffering, he has seen Lestat's perspective more fully. Lestat is broken, totally consumed with that guilt and grief. Both know that although they cannot change what they've done, they can forgive the other, even if they can't forgive themselves. They can love each other despite everything they've done to one another because they cannot stop loving each other. But now they can try to rebuild that love from the rubble.

[angeart]

Aaaaange, why doesn't Scar feel safe at that moment? More Tease pretty please? -🎀

oh i can do more than tease for this one :3c

[1,2k ramble + 8,5k rp snippets]

you know how we talked about the post-return situation, with the hermits raising potential allegations against scar? worried that he might be hurting grian, that their relationship is not safe?

that is pre-wedding. that is before scar proposes, but he already has plans to. he's always dreamed of a big, fancy wedding. it'd be picturesque and grand and wonderful! there'd be lots of flowers and music, laughter and dancing. and they'd be surrounded by friends who would be happy for them.

all of this is actively crumbling in scar's hands as hermits shy away from him as if he was dangerous and unpredictable. they're wary, unsure. they no longer see their cheerful, clumsy, harmless friend. they see an unfamilair vex.

they are not happy for them. and, right now, they do not approve of their relationship either.

scar thinks this is not how home should feel like. this is not what he wants. and he doesn't know how to convince them that he's not that scarecrow they have constructed from their lack of understanding. he doesn't know how to get through this.

but it's more than that, right? all their concerns, however well meaning, also make grian spiral. there's so much stress put on the two of them suddenly, their relationship straining.

none of this was ever meant to happen like this.

it's at a point when grian starts finding his stability, after that big breakdown, that scar decides he's done hiding and running, too. if he has to convince everyone to like him again, then he will. he'll fight for this. he'll do his best so that they can overcome this.

him and grian decide to host a little sleepover. for selected hermits! that way, they'll be opening themselves up to others. they want to try and show the others who they are now. to invite them back in. to let them get to know them all over again.

they arrange for it to happen within a week or so, as they still have to make a dedicated room for it. it's a lot of people to hang out and sleep!

they dedice to repurpose their old bunker. yes, the one they constructed shortly post-rescue. the one that was their hideout, their safe place.

it's underground, its walls drenched with anxiety and uncertainty. grian itches from it all, now used to spend time in their nest-tower, high up above the ground. underground feels stifling, all of a sudden. it feels wrong.

the first thing scar does is break the ceiling, to make a big skylight. it's left open for now, sand smelting into glass.

they struggle with the concept of hosting an event for many people. they can't seem to remember what they need. desperately, they try to figure out ways to make the place seem cozy and non-threatening, both for show and for their own sanity.

they talk about a little flower patch in the middle, right underneath the skylight. something bright and nice smelling and alive. they talk about mood lighting, about fairy lights and a fireplace. and—

they talk about sleeping arrangements.

grian says he doesn't want to make a big nest. he... doesn't want the others in their nest.

they're not flock.

they no longer feel like family.

so instead, they try to figure out how many beds they need. except, grian still wants a nest! for him and scar. and, maybe that's good! that'll be another stepping stone, showing the others the new them. who they are. what they now need. things like that!

while scar is tasked with making the small garden, grian goes off and gathers things for beds. he starts making them, quickly becomes overwhelmed, and instead starts putting together a big net that will hold their nest-bed suspended in the air.

he might be ignoring some symptoms of sickness that he simply brushes off as stress. a bit of tension. a couple of anxious, sleepless nights. it's fine.

(it isn't fine.)

it's when they take a break that grian finds himself too lightheaded and needs to lie down.

it's only about half an hour or so later, in the middle of them talking about some of scar's previous relationship experiences, that grian starts to feel really dizzy.

he has a fever.

and he succumbs to it fast after this.

scar wants to take him to the nest upstairs, but grian says he is too nauseous to be moved, so scar does the next best thing: cocoons grian's shivering, curled up form in blankets.

and he messages the hermits.

the hermits, who think he might be doing bad things to grian.

he tells them they need to postpone the sleepover.

he tells them grian is sick.

he asks for soup, but says not to come inside.

it... doesn't sound good. it rings some alarm bells in the heads of those hermits that are Very Concerned and Very Confused and maybe a notch paranoid. but scar stops replying. he's busy dealing with a sick grian.

and hoo boy.

grian's fever climbs sharply and mercilessly, making him delirious and disoriented. he can't tell where or when they are. he keeps talking about things that have already happened. he asks if the world is ending again. he thinks him and scar will be tossed to different servers this time. he asks for [REDACTED]. he asks for flock. he asks for kane and nico, where are they????

scar's heart is splintering and tearing to shreds as he tries to keep a grip, navigating heartache and mirror panic, trying to calm grian down.

it's at this time there comes a knock at their door.

scar can't deal with the others. not right now. not now, not now, not now.

they don't ask for permission to come in. they don't take silence as a no.

grian chirps in distress, from beffudled memories alone, and— they're worried. they can't leave it be.

they find the hole that was meant to, eventually, be a skylight.

they drop down.

mumbo, worried out of his mind. tango, here to help. impulse, last-minute joining them just to keep things reined in.

scar knows grian is out of it. he knows grian didn't want anyone else in their nest.

these are intruders.

and all grian registers are voices. all he thinks of are hunters. he sobs, terrified.

but to the others? scar's shifting into a vex form, flickering and dangerous, clutching grian who's making distressed noises, shielding him from sight.

they need to check up on grian, but they're not allowed any closer.

of course this escalates messily. and scar's afraid and hurting, but he needs to protect grian, and they aren't seeing him anyway. they don't see that he's scared. they don't see that he's cornered and helpless. they don't understand grian's current headspace, or his experiences that dictate his feverish panic.

and there's no space to explain.

... you know what. have the rp bits. as a treat <3 (this starts at the impromptu end of conversation about scar's past relationships, just for context.)

i decided not to redact some bits, for your enrichment. and to feed into the chaos. you're welcome :3c

------ RP STARTS HERE ------

SCAR

Scar takes another moment just to run his fingers over Grian’s forehead, then back into his hair, carefully folding his bangs back. In a lot of ways, early days with Grian were like that. Sharing their passions, enjoying each other’s company, nothing but fleeting touches between them that Scar would be left thinking about for days. 

He thinks he may have always been a hopeless romantic.

But is it really hopeless if the man of his dreams is here before him now? Curled up in his lap and cooing so soft?

Scar hums, pleased, even if he obviously wishes the sickness weren’t part of it.

“Eventually she was invited to some exclusive server, real far off. She didn’t know when she’d be able to see me next, so… we decided to go ahead and split.” Scar says it all so casually, because it truly was a mutual decision. One of the few relationships that ended with no misunderstandings or disappointments.

Well, it was still a little sad, but they knew it was for the best.

She didn’t want to leave Scar waiting, and he wanted her to feel open to exploring her relationships to the fullest with her new server mates. 

“I knew dating was always sort of secondary to her. Not as important as her art. She could do without it easily, especially if she was going somewhere with a bunch of other artists.” Scar looks down, carrying that soft smile and directing it toward Grian. “And she wanted me to be able to move on, so I could eventually meet, as she called it, the One.” He grins, remembering that being her exact phrasing. “…and that’s you.” Scar flushes a bit at his own cheesiness. “I know it.”

--

GRIAN

grian sighs softly at the touch through his hair, relaxing even through his shivers. his teeth chatter a little, a small frown forming between his eyebrows, but it softens a little as scar continues talking.

he tries to slot the information somewhere in his head. that this was an amicable breakup, brought on by insurmountable distance, diverging life paths. that this is something scar can still remember fondly. that this person had every trust that scar will find someone right for him, and that scar is convinced that someone is grian.

but somehow, his thoughts snag and loop, a faulty wire somewhere. distance and far away servers. distance and—

all of a sudden, he's thinking about the apocalypse that took everything from them. everything but each other, eventually. 

he thinks of distance, and a faraway server.

and scar not being with him in that scary place, or grian not being there with scar.

he takes a sharp breath, head shifting and eyes opening. his gaze is feverish and intense as it finds scar. "i would've look'd for you ev'rywhere," he says, hushed but urgent, completely nonsensical.

--

SCAR

Scar tilts his head, confused. He can tell what Grian is saying is drenched in adoration, but it feels misplaced, like it doesn’t belong here in this particular conversation.

Scar isn’t so sure he’s going to get an explanation with Grian in this state.

“I’m right here,” Scar decides to say instead, voice soft like flower petals placed over his skin, hoping to ease whatever tension is lingering in Grian’s thoughts.

His thumb brushes just in front of Grian’s earwing, not quite touching, but grazing over those tiny feathers that permeate his skin. 

“Right here.”

--

GRIAN

grian's gaze softens, some intensity fizzing out, even if the feverishness stays. "right here," he parrots in a weary but fond whisper, audibly relief laced. his eyes close again and he tilts his head further, chasing the touch of scar's gentle fingers.

-- 

SCAR

Scar’s glad to see Grian close his eyes, knowing he likely needs the rest. To think he was building beds and nets when he was slowly succumbing to a fever just makes Scar sad.

“For good, too,” Scar adds on, humming. “If you’ll have me, of course.”

He sees his communicator buzz— it had been a few times during his story— and wonders if that means soup is here already. With a name like soup group, maybe they had it ready-to-cook. 

Slowly, he shifts one hand over to take it, just to make sure he was clear about not entering the house. He’s careful to maintain soft patterns with his other, not wishing to disturb his mate.

--

GRIAN

for good. that sounds wonderful. it feels like a nest built around him.

grian coos, velvety and quiet, nuzzling weakly against scar. he feels him shift, but the attention to such details is slippery to grian's mind, especially as scar's touch remains on him, tracing gentle patterns.

--

SCAR

Scar stills for a second upon reading his messages, only drawn back into focus by the soft coo that escapes his mate’s lips. He’s quick to continue his soothing, setting the communicator down atop a half-squished pillow with a plop. 

<PearlescentMoon whispers to you> Soup delivery!

<GeminiTay whispers to you> Anybody home?

<Skizzleman> anybody seen G?

<impulseSV> Skizz

<impulseSV> Don’t

<Mumbo> Did something happen??

<GeminiTay> He’s just sick!

<Tango> …sick huh?

<impulseSV> Here we go again… 

--

GRIAN

with no idea about the turmoil spreading across the server-wide chat, grian stays curled up, leaning on scar. the silence stretches, making the space feel heavier somehow, time oddly slippery.

grian doesn't like it.

he lets out another coo, this one less stable. there's a questioning edge, something insecure and sorrowful and afraid.

--

SCAR

Scar blinks rapidly, eyelashes fluttering a bit as he tries to recalibrate. He can't bother with that nonsense right now, Grian needs him. That's his only priority.

"You okay, G?" Scar asks, carefully curating his voice with his practiced honeyed tones. "Soup's at the doorstep. Should be fine to leave it there, though."

--

GRIAN

soup's here?

grian forgot all about the soup. why's it at the doorstep?

he can't think.

he lets out another coo, pitched similarly to the last.

--

SCAR

"...Are you hungry?" Scar tries to guess. "I told them to leave it there for now. I'm sure it'll stay hot."

-- 

GRIAN

grian's getting increasingly more confused. who brought the soup?

they're... underground, right?

there's this horrible moment when grian can't tell where they are. or when.

"... why d'n't they c'me in?" he murmurs, thinking feverishly about flock. about nico and kane, and their worried faces.

--

SCAR

"You...you said you didn't want anyone in the nest?" Scar replies, nervous now. 

Did he misinterpret that? Did he just cause turmoil in the chat for no reason?

--

GRIAN

grian looks at scar again, his gaze unfocused even as he searches scar's expression for answers that evade him. he's so confused. flock is allowed in the nest?

he chirps, unable to put the mess of his feverish, disoriented thoughts into words.

--

SCAR

"Shoot," Scar says, doubting his actions now. "I—I can message them again? I think the messages from Pearl and Gem were only a few minutes ago—"

--

GRIAN

grian stiffens, his eyes widening with more confusion.

peal and gem?

it takes him an odd, hollow moment to place those names, and then he's unthinkingly moving, rolling over, chirping in a higher pitch. the cocoon of blankets tangles around him, keeping him right where he is, unable to flare out and flap his wings.

--

SCAR

Scar is about a moment away from grabbing the communicator when Grian begins thrashing, and he quickly shifts to cradling him with his arms, trying to keep him in place. "Hey, heyyy, whoa... easy there, birdie, what's wrong?" Scar tries to imitate a small chirp, trying to say that it's okay if Grian can only make noises. He'll try to interpret to his best ability.

--

ANGE ( :D )

--

GRIAN

grian breathes heavily from that small amount of exertion, completely placated by scar's tight hold and the familiar rumble of his voice. dark spots blotch out his vision, and he lets himself go limp, cradled by scar's arms. safe. safe, safe, safe.

his head is so jumbled, and everything feels like a horrible dream. they're underground. there's meant to be flock here. there's meant to be—

with eyes flooding with confused tears, he whimpers. "scar?" his voice is hoarse, breaking midway through. "where's avi?"

--

LINK

--

SCAR

Scar's huddled over Grian, as if he wanted to shield him from the world. (He does.) He keeps his grip firm and shushes him softly, trying to reign him in as much as he can so he can get some sort of coherent answer, when—

Oh.

Oh no.

"Where's—" Scar chokes out, completely caught off guard by the question. He pulls away, catching sight of those tears, and suddenly his eyes are stinging as well. "I—Grian, we're..." He can't answer that. He can't, he can't. "Grian we're home."

--

GRIAN 

grian's gaze jumps between scar's eyes. incoherency threads through his veins, spilling across his nervous system. the word home makes no sense to him.

he chirps, a quiet, mournful, quivery sound. confused and afraid.

--

LINK

--

SCAR

Scar chews at his lip, trying very hard not to lose himself to the sudden flood of panic that surged through him at those words, not to mention the sheer misery of it all as well.

"We're not there, Grian," he continues to try. "We're home. We're—"

He hears knocking at their door upstairs. 

Scar's ears twitch, honestly unsure if Grian will hear it as well with how Scar is huddled over him and with the less acute hearing. 

Muffled voices pool in from beyond the stairs.

...not gonna answer. ... just wants to be sure ... if it makes him feel better...

"...on Hermitcraft," Scar finishes, the word almost bitter on his tongue. 

--

GRIAN

"i— but—" grian's oblivious to knocking or potential intruders. he sniffles, a tear falling free. he's shaking, the fever ravaging, the world gently spinning off axis around him. 

he thinks scar looks a bit panicked, and it just pushes him deeper into his disoriented confusion. because— aren't they hiding? from danger? aren't they in a hideout? in a bunker, or a cave? aren't they in a nest that's incredibly makeshift, put together in a rush?

... isn't there meant to be flock here?

he chirps again, louder, still that higher pitch. fear sears through the sound, his breath turning rapid as his heart beats wildly against his ribs, even as fever presses the heavy weight of exhaustion right over his chest. 

he's scared, because he can't remember. he can't remember what happened—

"where are they?" he insists, his voice verging a sob. "where is flock?"

--

SCAR

Scar thinks the voices stopped for a second after Grian chirps, and the reality of the giant hole in the ceiling sets in on Scar all at once. All they’d have to do is walk about the back and there’d be nothing keeping anyone from seeing the two of them. 

Scar’s wings flare out around Grian as an instinctive shield. 

Grian is asking about flock, and…

Well, the reality of that is that there is none here, Scar concludes dismally. 

Grian didn’t want the hermits in their nest when they were constructing the party room. Grian asked for Avi. Grian’s probably thinking about Kane and Nico, too.

The hermits haven’t gotten there. They don’t know avian-brained Grian.

“[REDACTED],” Scar answers, trying to give Grian a shred of reality to grasp onto. [REDACTED]

--

GRIAN

[REDACTED]? 

grian's mind spins, the same way the room spins around him. he feels as if the whole ground tilted with them on it. there's sea underneath the raft of the floor. 

he feels sick.

he wants to close his eyes, but he finds himself staring at scar, helpless. floatingly, he remembers words about distance and faraway servers, and he thinks of hermitcraft imploding, whole chunks being lifted up into the air.

his stomach twists and lurches. the spinny feeling makes him think even more vividly of those floating chunks. maybe they're on one now?

he ducks, as if the ground really moved from underneath them. he tries to paw at scar, but his hands are still trapped, and it just makes him thrash again against the blankets, whimpering.

he wants his flock. he doesn't understand where they are.

"call them back," he whimpers. "call— avi. can— avi can come too?" he pauses, his breath stuttering as he looks up at scar with so much pleading. 

he wants a bird flock. he wants to tuck him in the middle of the makeshift nest and make sure he's safe.

--

SCAR

Scar stares at Grian, heart actively tearing itself apart at his words and tears threatening to fall. 

He hears footsteps.

He can’t do this. If they find them he’s not going to be able to untangle all of this in time, he—

“They’ll be back,” he lies, chest aching. “Shhh, shhh, listen, they’ll be back, okay?”

The words taste like acid on his tongue, burning his throat like rotten bile. 

“You’re sick, Gri, let me take care of you,” Scar pleas, shutting out his surroundings so he can focus. Focus. Grian’s the only thing that matters. “Why don’t we go upstairs? If— if you puke on me, fine, I just— you should have a bath. And more blankets. And Mr. Beak.”

And medicine on his way up. And soup. 

And away from the approaching hermits. Away from danger.

--

GRIAN

"they'll... be back?" grian repeats, in the smallest voice, each syllable threatening to snap and let it all crumble. he sniffles, another tear tumbling down his cheek as the confusion continues to tear a path through him like wildfire.

scar says their flock will be back. 

he says grian is sick, and oh, maybe the world isn't ending, then? 

grian feels weird. everything's fuzzy and nonsensical, memories fading and time slipping and everything melting together.

there's a sob, and it takes grian a moment to realise it came from it. "it— it feels like—" his body shakes and trembles, barely a separate thing from the shivers. he's curling up again, making himself small. with a ragged breath and tears glistening in his eyes, he looks at scar, completely missing his point about upstairs and a bath and mr beak. what leaves his lips instead is a question that's white-hot, shaking him to his core. "scar...? is the world ending again?"

--

SCAR / MUMBO

“What—“ Scar is reeling from all of this. It doesn’t feel unlike being trapped in a cramped terracotta bunker listening to Grian murmur thoughts of death and despair. “No, Grian, the world isn’t ending.”

Scar thinks he knew how to handle this better once upon a time.

This world has ironically shaken his confidence. 

“We’re perfectly safe.” Scar continues. “We’re in our home— our house that we built.”

“Grian?” comes a voice from above, causing Scar to bristle.

His eyes flick upward and catch sight of a nervous pair of eyes peeking over the dirt hole.

Scar does not want to talk to Mumbo right now.

--

GRIAN

grian's eyes close and he blindly curls towards scar, deeper into his hold, lost and despondent. nothing makes sense, not even scar's reassurances. 

out of all the words scar says, grian wants to hold onto one the most: safe.

and yet incoherent threats continue sinking teeth into grian's flesh. sending panic signals about how he's weak if he's sick, and they're a target, and they can't run from danger. about how their flock is missing. about how they might be hurtled into different, faraway servers this time, and— and grian doesn't know how to survive without scar, and—

he sobs loudly, his breaths becoming erratic. he hears his name, but it's not scar's voice, and he flinches hard, whimpering, until some instinct catches up and tells him to run. to grab scar and abandon the nest.

he tries to flap his wings, but finds them bound.

he doesn't process that sensation right, pitching straight into memories of traps and nets, chirping high pitched and distressed. the blankets don't hold too hard, but he just can't figure them out, unaware of what they even are.

--

SCAR / OTHERS

“Grian!” Mumbo exclaims, calling the attention of his other unwelcome companions. 

Scar snarls, luckily muted and hidden from view by his bright wings. This is not what he needs right now. This is not what Grian needs. He needs peace and quiet and warmth and soft things—

Scar hurries to try to still Grian, shushing him as calmly as he can manage. “Hey, hey, Grian, it’s me, it’s okay, shhhh, please calm down.”

Grian said he felt nauseous. This has to be about the worst thing possible for him.

“Scar, what’s—“ Mumbo is babbling, sounding nearly as panicked as Grian. Scar doesn’t care about that though. 

He thinks maybe Mumbo has fallen onto his knees up there. He thinks he might be considering popping down into their space.

Scar is not having that.

Strangers are not allowed in the nest, get out, get out.

“Grian, look at me,” Scar tries, urgent and insistent. “We’re safe, we’re okay, I— I’m gonna take you upstairs.”

“Whoa there, skippy, I don’t think you should be taking him anywhere!” comes Tango of all people.

Scar eyes glow a faint blue, feeling cornered, while all of his body language shifts into that of defensive and protective, wrapped around Grian fully with his wings blocking the intruders from view. 

He desperately attempts to lift.

--

GRIAN

grian sobs, quieter, against scar's soft, frantic shushes. he wants to believe that everything's okay, but scar doesn't sound okay, and there are all these other voices, rising up and loud, coming closer.

scar pleads for grian to look at him, and dizzily, he does, his eyesight blurred by hot tears. he's breathing too fast, which is just inviting more lightheadedness; he shakes in scar's grip, whimpering as scar repeats the promises that they're okay.

desperately, grian tries to hold onto that.

he chirps, still distressed but now also pleading, a sound meant only for scar's ears but all too loud and grating to not be heard by anyone else in the vicinity. 

his wings still feel so horribly bound. 

he chokes on a sob. "scar, help." 

he needs to be freed and— and they need to run, right? they need to go? scar says they'll go upstairs. grian tries to get his hands free, wanting to hold onto him, but he's bundled up too tight in scar's arms to really manage with his feeble strength.

his stomach churns, acidic, turning and twisting with the uptick of stress and panic. he sobs again, terrified that they're about to be caught.

--

SCAR / OTHERS

Focus, Scar thinks frantically. Focus, focus. 

He can’t let the anger from the intrusion overcome him. He can’t get defensive here, even if he’s certain one unwelcome step into their makeshift nest will set him off. 

Grian is squirming in his arms, chirping as he relives some phantom experience, and Scar knows this can’t look good. He has to stay calm, he has to keep him under control.

But then Grian begs for his help and it’s like the mirage shatters around him, except this time it’s reality fragmenting before his very eyes, twisting and mutating into something horrible and so much more dire. 

Grian’s sobbing, but for a second Scar sees him despondent, face torn open and wings drenched in blood. He hears voices and it’s like white noise, a vague threat, unwelcome. 

Scar looks around frantically.

He doesn’t know which way Nadia is—

“Scar, buddy, hey, why dontcha just put Grian down and we can aaaaaall relax—“

Scar’s wings flare out to their full span, one dipping over Grian as a shield. No one can see him. No one can ogle those feathers. No one, no one.

“Sc–Scar, what’s going on?”

Scar sees movement. Someone jumps down and instantly he’s crouched low, holding Grian tighter as his eyes glow blue.

“Scar…”

He’s supposed to be calm, he’s supposed to be gentle, he’s failing, he’s failing, but he can’t let them near—

Scar’s entire body flickers blue and he bites his lip hard enough to draw blood. 

“Stay back,” he strains through sharpened teeth, voice low like a snarl. “You—“ 

(You aren’t welcome here.)

(You’re making things worse.)

(You’re lucky I don’t slay you right here and now.)

Scar’s voice breaks, desperate and frightened by his own shattering psyche. “You’re scaring him.” 

--

GRIAN / OTHERS

the sense of danger continues building up around grian, fueling his fear, overexerting his already sickness-weakened body. his heart continues ramming a fast, painful rhythm, and the ache across his chest just serves to make grian more scared.

scar's hold on him is firm, and grian doesn't know whether to feel comfort (he's protected, it's okay, scar's got him), or more panic (there's a threat, scar can't fight if he's gripping grian, why aren't they running?) choking on sobs that he's unable to stop, grian presses his forehead into scar's shoulder; the heat of his fever can surely be felt through scar's shirt, scalding hot. there's a familiar, faint tingling, something grian's learned to attune himself to and recognise—the electrifying current of scar's magic, a warning, a preparation. a wing slings in front of grian like a glowing shield.

mumbo's standing in the bunker, jolting still at scar's accusation and the display of his vex magic. "i'm scaring him?" he stammers, incredulous and not understanding. "mate, i think he's asking to be let go," he hazards, navigating the distressing pitch of chirps and sobs with anxious misguidedness. 

tango's now crouching at the edge of the hole, also intending to descend. "yeah, just let us see him. you've got nothing to hide, right? why make this worse?"

a third pair of footsteps makes it to the unfinished skylight, peering down at the situation with a tense "uhoh," trying to read what exactly is happening here. he isn't sure yet, but some alarm in his head goes off.

with straining breaths through his sobs, grian's dizziness only gets worse. even as he's securely held, he can't escape the violent sensation of the world spinning fast. his stomach tightens, burning with acid, stress overloading all of grian's already muddied senses. there are voices around him, louder, closer, but they don't process right; they're just an incoherent noise, a call of hunters saying we found them, making everything collapse in on him and scar. it feels like they're surrounded and, fearfully, grian presses himself further against scar, burrowing in as much as he can with all his limbs still tangled into the blanket net. 

he should've been more careful.

he shouldn't have triggered the trap.

his eyes are tightly shut, overflowing with tears. behind his closed eyelids, he can see, vividly, avi's terrified look as he's caught in another trap.

a vile kind of panic spreads through him, sharper and more damaging than the previous one, drawing a terrified chirp out of him. the sound breaks on a sob like waves violently crashing into a jagged cliffside, and he desperately tries to take a breath through it all. to speak. 

it's awful; he's so horribly lightheaded and nothing makes sense. but he has to— he has to say this, has to make sure scar hears, has to beg for this one thing above all else. he chokes out, wobbly and halting and small enough to be coherent only for scar, and only if he can spare enough attention to listen. "ple— please don't— don't le— leave him behind—" 

--

SCAR / OTHERS

Scar tenses, briefly glancing down at Grian as he wonders whether or not he truly has been misinterpreting it all, if Grian wants to be let go like Mumbo claims. But no, Scar can feel that feverish haze pressed into his shoulder, desperate and clingy, and his expression sharpens, eyes narrowing in Mumbo’s direction. 

No, Mumbo knows nothing. 

Still, Scar shrinks under Tango’s accusations, reminding him that he ought to have nothing to hide. He doesn’t, just— he can’t let them see. He can’t let anyone see the tears and the panic and the bright violet hues. 

Scar knows he’s being irrational but his wings simply won’t budge, one flung out in some innate danger response and the other curled around like a very necessary shield. They twitch but don’t move.

All Scar can manage is to turn them slightly transparent. A barely willing compromise.

Even his vision is flickering blue.

…Grian’s words make him see white.

He’s vividly tossed back in time, hobbled over and bloodied, barely hanging on, watching as [REDACTED]

Grian’s begging him not to let history repeat itself, he knows, he—

Scar takes a stumbling step backward, blankets curling around his feet and threatening to drag him down. 

“Hey, hey, hey, let’s not go going anywhere, pal,” Tango insists as he leaps down to join Mumbo, carefully touching his shoulder in solidarity. He’s jittery here, not liking he prospect of staring down an angry vex in the slightest, a totem gripped in his other hand. “We’re just here to help.”

Tears break past Scar’s eyes and he hiccups, struggling to stay above water, barely grappling with reality as it continues to shatter before him. 

He can’t do this alone. He’s scared, he’s slipping, he’s making it all worse. 

He… he should have nothing to hide.

“He’s sick,” Scar pleads again, voice hoarse and not at all his own. Blue wisps escape with every word. “He–e has a fever, he’s not— he’s not thinking straight.”

God, are they going to believe that?

Do they believe anything he says? That a crazed vex says?

Scar looks at Grian again, desperation hanging off his tongue. “Grian, you— I—“ He doesn’t even want to suggest it, but they probably need to hear from him. “We…we’re safe, okay? I promise, I… d-do you want me to put you down?”

--

US

--

GRIAN / OTHERS

scar's suggestion is the only thing grian hears with any semblance of coherency, and it makes his lungs spasm and his heart ache. he shakes his head in panic, forehead still pressed against scar, the sharp motion rapidly destabilising the world around him until it spins in a nauseating blur. "no no no don't leave, please, don't don't don't," he chokes out, crying.

the sharpness of that reaction freezes mumbo, sends everything in him careening into doubt.

it's this moment impulse takes his cue to join in. he jumps down, touching tango's arm just as tango is taking a breath to speak, feet moving to step forwards. impulse stops him, gently, even as tension drips from his voice. "tango, wait."

grian's sobs fill the air; the transparency of scar's wings doesn't offer much more clarity. all impulse can tell is that the avian is shaking.

but his eyes draw higher, meeting scar's. his gaze softens at the sight of tears, and he lifts his hands up placatingly, the gesture feeling like lowering of a weapon. "scar." his voice is quiet, just loud enough to be heard. he tries to keep it calm, even as his nerves are fraying with the situation. "you aren't going to run off with him anywhere, right? it's okay. we won't hurt you guys."

mumbo's eyes widen at that, gaze whipping from impulse to scar—for the first time noting the tears in the vex's eyes. "oh, gosh, no, we aren't here to hurt anyone!" he echoes, distraught. 

--

SCAR / OTHERS

Scar tightens his grip, pulling Grian up higher and whispering soft nothings, assuring him that he’ll stay, that he hears him, he wouldn’t leave him, not ever. 

Scar tenses up when yet another person enters their space, but visibly relaxes when he recognizes Impulse’s voice, something steady and yielding to the way that he speaks. It’s the only voice that doesn’t distort into that of a hunter’s call in Scar’s rattled mind.

Slowly, Scar pulls his leg back in, shaking as he gives up on the half-step he was taking away. “I… I know that,” he fibs, because part of him doesn’t believe them. “But Grian doesn’t. N–not right now.”

Tango appears unconvinced, making a short grumbling sound that Impulse cuts off with a light shove. 

Impulse recognizes this scene. Maybe it’s just the flicker of Scar’s wings, but Grian appears to have that same glossed over look in his eye that he had the day they found them— unrecognizing, inconsolable. 

It isn’t good.

--

GRIAN / OTHERS

grian's sobs quiet down a little at the soft assurances, but the world keeps swirling and swimming. 

mumbo lets out a choked noise, not willing to reconcile with the idea that grian might not recognise them as safe—despite all the hints of their early days on the server post-rescue. he thinks of grian, bruised and bitten and flinching, and he can't let this go. he can't. "please," he begs. "i just want to see him."

impulse looks at mumbo, then back at scar. he's holding out his arm, in case the others would have the stupid thought of moving forwards.

he needs to bargain here, and it's hard.

he tries to hold onto the way scar let pearl at least somewhat close, that day when they pulled scar and grian from that awful world, grian's wing tangled in a horrible trap that tore at it. pearl wasn't allowed to touch, but she was allowed to help, and maybe they could arrive at something similar here, too.

"scar...?" impulse says, gentle and calm again. (it's only the smallest of wobbles that betrays him.) "do you think you could sit down? you don't have to let go of him, just, let us see? we don't have to come close." and then, after a breath, he tentatively pushes with another suggestion: "i think if you're calm about it, it might help him calm down too. you don't have to get away from him."

"yes he does!" tango protests.

impulse whips to face him. "tango!" he snaps back. 

grian flinches in scar's arms at the raised tones, letting out another loud, terrified chirp, curling into scar for protection. he's back to sobbing louder, all of scar's comfort undone in one swift go.

--

SCAR

Scar’s wings sag the slightest bit, drawn in by the soft promises Impulse is laying out, but still hesitant to follow. 

Sitting down would mean giving up an easy escape route. They could be lying. He could be cornered. This could all be a ploy to get him to lower his guard.

Tango’s outburst does not help settle that fear.

Scar grits his teeth together, a few stray tears falling as he struggles to form words. “Stop yelling,” he demands, light blue magic slipping past sharpened teeth. 

He’s back to soothing Grian, not yet yielding and not at all regarding Mumbo’s request. 

“Shh, shh, I’ve got you, okay? I’m—“ He looks over the three pairs of eyes— fearful, disdainful, concerned— and focuses in on Impulse. “They’re… friends.” (Not flock.) “I’m just gonna… kneel down here, okay?” (A small compromise.)

--

GRIAN / OTHERS

grian continues crying, albeit a little bit quieter again. just a notch. it's hard to tell if scar's soothing is working, or if he's just tiring himself out.

tango, to his credit, seems a bit alarmed by the reaction he's gotten. but he is still relentlessly wary, suspicious of this whole situation.

impulse can tell, and it keeps him tense. he wishes he could just tell tango and mumbo to leave, but he knows they wouldn't budge. not now. not when things are like this.

he holds back a sigh, looking grian's way. "yeah, we're friends," he echoes, soft, trying to sound harmless and encouraging.

he isn't even sure grian's listening to him. he isn't sure he can recognise his voice. it feels awful.

he doesn't think tango and mumbo realise the extent of what's happening. that if grian's mind is scrambled with the sickness, he might not be mentally present here. on hermitcraft. he might be stuck somewhere else entirely, and the thought of it pains impulse. 

the least they can do is play along.

the least he can do is try to deescalate this whole thing.

"c'mon," he tugs at tango and mumbo, voice low. "let's sit down."

"wh— i don't want—" tango starts in protest, but impulse holds his gaze, steady. 

"shh," he reminds him, shutting tango up.

"oh gosh," mumbo lets out, wobbly, and slowly lowers himself down to the floor.

impulse does the same, dragging tango down with him.

"see?" impulse looks back at scar, trying to offer a small smile. "we're not gonna go closer if you guys aren't ready. we're at the same level here. it's okay." he's willing to be patient here, but he worries that tango and mumbo might not be. 

--

SCAR

Scar stares for a long moment, fidgeting between trust and opportunity, wondering if he could run. If he could take them down if they’re going to make themselves vulnerable like this.

His ears twitch with alarm at the mere thought, catching himself before he can spiral further into delusion.

Carefully, he lowers himself to the ground, knelt down on both knees so he could easily spring back into action. 

“We aren’t ready,” Scar confirms, warily eyeing the lot of them. 

His eyes are still bright blue, though slightly less fiery. His chest flickers occasionally, a warm white light. His wing lowers by only an inch. 

He allows himself one moment of weakness, eyes flicking back down toward the shivering avian in his arms. “… I promise a warm bath after this, okay?” he whispers, though his voice carries, still too ragged from pressed together fangs. “W–we’re gonna be fine.”

--

GRIAN / OTHERS

impulse nods. he knows they aren't ready, but he hopes hearing that helps the others settle too. "we'll wait. take it slow. make sure he's okay," he coaxes, tone soft. hoping, desperately, that tango and mumbo won't mess this up. that they understand and will follow his lead. "we're not getting any closer. you have space." he pauses, and then he adds, a bit of heartache slipping into his voice: "you're safe, i promise."

grian recognises that they went down, slow and controlled. scar's hold is still tight and secure, and he's talking to him softly, and grian scrambles to understand what's happening. they're... not in danger anymore? scar says they're going to be fine. 

with a tired coo, grian nuzzles into his shoulder. he trusts him, even as he still sniffles, tears dripping down. 

his body feels awful, and his wings twitch, only to find themselves still tangled. it's that sensation that prompts another miserable sob from him, albeit less panic-driven. "take it off," he pleads, begging scar to untangle the trap that restricts him. "take it— scar, hurts," he whines.

the blanket doesn't actually hurt. his body aches from the fever and extertion, but his head tells him that pressure against his wings ought to be painful, and so that's what it is. the fear mistranslates into pain—or maybe just inevitability of the pain if this goes on, he isn't actually sure—the memories more vivid than reality itself.

--

SCAR

Scar nods slowly, wings lowering just a little bit more. He can see the tension actively begin to roll off of Mumbo, but for some reason that doesn’t comfort Scar in the slightest. 

He tries to offer gratitude toward Impulse in some way, but then his attention is dragged back to Grian, ears flicking as he grows rigid and attentive once more.

“Take…?” Scar questions, looking Grian over in confusion before it finally clicks. “The— oh.”

He shifts a little, resting Grian’s weight firmly on his legs, and slowly peels away a few layers of blankets, trying to simply loosen them up and allow for his wings to slip free. 

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” Scar assures him, voice already growing much softer, no more wisps escaping when he speaks. “There you go… ‘m sorry.”

--

GRIAN / OTHERS

it's the word hurts on grian's tongue that has mumbo jolting, and impulse has to react fast, grabbing him and keeping him still. "stay calm," he hisses under his breath, quiet enough to be intended only for their trio.

"do you really expect us just to sit here," tango hisses back, "when grian just said he's being hurt?"

impulse exhales, long and tense. "that's not what he said. and he asked scar to fix it. he said," he stresses, somehow still managing to keep his voice hushed and low, "he wants scar to stay near him. so sit. still. and wait."

grian, in the meanwhile, squirms as the blanket layers gets peeled off, feeling the pressure relent. he breathes out, a bit more steadily, forehead still firmly against scar. some of his crying tapers off once he can twitch his wings and feel no resistance—and the loosened blankets let his hands free, too. he uses this immediately to grab onto scar's shirt, depletedly holding on. 

"thanks." he sniffles. and then he asks, feeling small and vulnerable, his heart still frightened: "are we safe...?"

--

SCAR

“Yes,” Scar replies, even if he doesn’t feel safe in the slightest. He feels under attack, though perhaps at least not physically. “…we’re having a sitting party.”

It’s a bit of a nonsensical thing to say, but Scar is trying desperately to reel himself in here. His eyes are only barely green, a blue sheen still hiding them away. He feels tense and uneasy, watching Tango in particular now with narrowed vision.

It flicks to Mumbo, accusatory in his stare. “I said we didn’t want visitors,” Scar states, guarded. “So why are you here?”

--

GRIAN

it is a bit nonsensical, the words sitting party taking a while to slot in grian's mind. but if they're having a party, that means there is someone else, right? the memories of the confusing, threatening voices feels fuzzy to grian. the danger has passed, the hunters are gone. they wouldn't be sitting down, wings released, having a party of all things otherwise—and scar confirmed they're safe.

which means...

maybe scar called them over, like grian asked?

he relaxes a little bit more, even as he still continues to wade his confusion. "flock...?" he asks in a tiny coo. 

he's leaning his head on scar's shoulder, staring blankly off in the direction of scar's other shoulder, not focused on anything in particular. his vision still swims. 

--

SCAR

“… Friends,” Scar corrects, because they’re not. “… They’re just—“ Scar swallows down some bitterness, trying to stay calm. “—worried about you.”

And then he looks back to Mumbo, eyes glowing a bit brighter again as he waits for his answer.

(They’re worried about Grian. Not him. Unless being worried of him counts.)

--

GRIAN / OTHERS

"mhn?" grian makes a confused sound at the word friends. it doesn't want to slot anywhere in his head. who?

mumbo, in the meanwhile, shrinks under scar's sharp attention. "we were worried," he offers, nothing more than a repeat of what scar's just said himself. 

tango steps in, pointing out: "you said he was sick. we wanted to check in on him."

--

SCAR

Scar’s ears droop at Grian’s clear inability to recognize the concept. But frankly, he doesn’t blame him.

With a sigh, Scar scans the three of them again, looking them over for any sign of trouble, but he notes a distinct lack of anything, which makes him frown.

“So, what? Did you bring medicine?” he asks rhetorically, because he knows the answer. “Soup? Blankets? Bath salts?”

His eyes narrow with each question.

--

OTHERS

there's a very clear faltering across the whole group. they exchange glances, slightly nervous. 

"i— we—" mumbo stammers, face flushing. he's suddenly feeling very uneasy. chastised. he stares at the bundle scar's holding, what he at first was so sure was a distressed avian probably really just a feverish one, and it makes him deflate. he didn't think past the anxiety enough to consider that scar might be telling the truth. (he's still not sure. he still needs to see grian, properly. he still wants to check.) (but the scales of probability are tipping in a way that makes him feel off balance and out of place.)

impulse sighs. he didn't have time to stop them long enough to ask them to be sensible and bring something for grian if he truly is sick. he is here as a chaperone and—oh boy is he glad he came. he can't imagine how this would've panned out otherwise.

"you weren't replying on the comms," tango soldiers through, still frowning, still a touch confrontational. he doesn't like the way scar's looking at him. doesn't like all his sharp edges. doesn't like the feeling that scar's still hiding something. "we didn't know what you need." he pulls slightly back, straightening up. "do you need anything?" he challenges. there already was a soup delivery by the front door, and it certainly doesn't seem like they're low on blankets.

--

SCAR

“I was a little preoccupied,” Scar replies dryly, frustrated that he’s still being questioned. “I’d think it’s customary to bring at least some sort of gift,” Scar continues to pry, not letting it go. Not letting it slide that they clearly came here out of fear instead of assistance. “But sure, sure, we certainly wouldn’t say no to some minty bath salts or some tea leaves.”

Scar briefly wonders if that’s all it would take to make this unwelcome trio leave. He doubts it.

“Or, you know, some peace and quiet so he can get some rest,” Scar concludes, tight jawed and eyebrows furrowed. At least his eyes are back to green.

--

OTHERS

mumbo recognises that they're being thrown out, but it just makes him dig his heels in. "we can bring some tea, but— but scar—"

it's tango who breaks this line drawn in the sand again, encroaching on a minefield territory. "we still haven't seen grian." because this sliver they can see right now doesn't count. it doesn't say anything about whether or not grian's hurt, underneath it all. even if grian begs for scar to be close. honestly, tango doesn't consider grian the best judge of that right now. unhealthy attachments exist!

--

SCAR

Scar exhales through his nose, slow and barely steady. 

Reluctantly, he lowers his wing, allowing an unobstructed gaze, though he makes no effort to close the distance between them. He doesn’t want that line broken.

“…happy?”

--

GRIAN / OTHERS

grian registers scar's wing falling away, and it makes him feel oddly exposed. grian isn't sure to whom; scar said their flock isn't here, but that they're safe. still, he ducks, hiding his face in scar's chest. that way, he can pretend he's still shielded. that way, he can pretend the world can't hurt him. (the way he can feel scar's breaths is just a nice, soothing bonus. scar's right here, alive, right next to him. perfectly in reach, as grian's fingers tug at him.) (he closes his eyes, willing the surroundings to stop tipping around them. his feathers fluff up lightly.) 

mumbo makes another strangled noise, and he moves as if to stand up, compelled to go closer. to check. to— 

to be there. 

grian's his friend, and there wasn't a time when mumbo wasn't allowed to be near. to take care of him when he feels unwell.

with blankets and grian's wings still firmly in the way, and grian's whole body turned away from them, mumbo still can't see anything. so no, he isn't happy.

"... grian?" he tries, calling out to him, coaxing him to look his way as he gets up to his wobbly feet.

--

SCAR

Scar bristles again, wings twitching as he instinctively growls, low and mercifully non-threatening, but it certainly doesn’t sound that way to an untrained ear. 

These are untrained ears. 

Scar registers the flinch in varying degrees from all three of them, and his ears twitch, then droop again in shame.

He can’t do this. He can’t let someone else close. It doesn’t matter how fidgety and awkward Mumbo is, Scar doesn’t trust him to come close.

Mumbo who says foolish things; Mumbo who looks at him like a stranger; Mumbo who cares so much that Scar can’t help but feel strangled by it as it weaves around him, passing him by and threatening to smother Grian in his disturbed state. 

--

GRIAN / OTHERS

grian makes an inquisitive mewl, a soft and small sound, unworried at scar's growl. he knows it's not threatening, so he just gently prods, inquiring as to what's wrong. what's bothering scar?

pointedly, he doesn't react to mumbo's call at all. as if he didn't even register it.

tango's rising to his feet now, too, but impulse puts a hand on his shoulder.

it doesn't deter tango, and they both stand up. still far away, but in a way the three of them are now towering over kneeling scar, looking down with varying emotions. 

"we'll get you some tea," impulse says, quiet, measured. he's looking directly at scar. he's trying to tell him that he sees him. that he doesn't blame him, no matter how stifling and explosive this situation is turning out to be.

"impulse!" tango squeaks, indignant, protesting. "he's hiding something!"

impulse's gaze cuts sharply to tango. "keep your voice down!" he hisses, frowning, then sighs. he understands they're anxious, but lines do need to be drawn.

for grian's sake as well as for scar's. 

impulse looks back at scar, tries to soften all the jaggedness from his pooling tension. "do you think you can get him to sleep? rest a little?" he suggests. "we will come back with the tea. if grian's asleep— we can look at him then? so he won't be scared of us?" he bites at his lip, and then adds: "just look. and we can help if you'll need anything else from us, yeah?" it's a gentle proposal, an attempt to find a tightrope that won't send them all careening towards some awful abyss.

--

SCAR

Scar feels so horribly small knelt down like this in front of people that are seemingly hellbent on misinterpreting his every move. His wings fall to the ground at the insinuation of him hiding something once again.

He’s not. He’s hiding Grian maybe, but he was scared— he asked for help and this is how Scar would help…

Scar trembles under the spotlight of their gazes, even if Impulse’s is softer. He feels like he can’t move— like he isn’t allowed.

“I… I want him to rest,” Scar agrees weakly, nodding once in exhausted misery. “You… yeah. You can check on him then.”

He still hates it. Hates the idea of someone in their nest. Hates that he’s still being more or less monitored, hates that he can’t be trusted with what he knows best.

Scar looks down to Grian, eyes big, barely holding back the fear that seeps into that forest green. “Can I take you upstairs? …nest?”

--

GRIAN / OTHERS

impulse softens further at scar's agreement, hearing the fatigue and defeat in his voice. it makes his heart ache, even more when he thinks about everyone else overlooking that. "alright... thank you, scar," he says gently.

then his eyes flick to find the exit, realising they're going to have to walk past. 

"can we... leave? or do you want us to wait until you go first?" impulse checks nervously, gaze jumping between scar and the avian he's cradling. he has a feeling scar doesn't want them here any longer than necessary, but impulse isn't sure if getting closer only for the sake of walking out is what he needs.

"or we can dirt pillar up," mumbo suggests with a nervous little laugh, attempting nonchalance and jokes, even as everything in him still rails against this. he's drawn forward, towards grian, like a moth to a flame. he wants to check him over, touch his skin, care for him. he doesn't realise he's completely disregarding scar in this scenario. doesn't realise he sees him as nothing but a mad guard dog, standing in his way for no reason. 

"you're giving up?" tango huffs, tail swishing. 

"i— what?" mumbo laughs again, more nervously this time. "we'll be back."

"what, so he can cover up his tracks?" tango pushes, frowning. all too aware that a potion or two are enough to hide most injuries. and an asleep grian can't answer any check-up questions.

it's impulse who growls now. "tango. scar isn't our enemy. he's our friend. maybe you should start treating him as such."

"i— wh— but—" tango stammers, completely taken off guard, ears pulling low.

grian, in the meanwhile, reacts to scar's careful, gentle question. his unfocused gaze lifts up, seeking to anchor in familiar green, feeling fragmented and vulnerable and still sick. "nest," he echoes, impossibly sad and hopeful, yearning. he sniffles, not paying their surroundings any attention; the memories still swirl through him, and nothing quite feels real.

nothing but scar.

he tips forward, wraps his arms around scar's shoulders in a weak hug, clinging to him in a position that makes it easy to carry him. 

"... can the bucket come with us?" he half-jokes hoarsely.

--

SCAR

Turns out it doesn’t feel good being spoken about like he isn’t right there, and Scar finds himself slumping forward in defeat, misery seeping deep into his bones.

His chest flickers once more, eyes clouded with a blue fog that only fades when Grian wraps his arms around. Grian, who does trust him and is deserving of his love and attention.

Wretchedly, Scar swallows down his anxieties, does his best to ignore the unwelcome surroundings. He doesn’t even provide them an answer, instead leaning down to kiss Grian’s (still dreadfully warm) forehead.

“Anything you need, G,” he croaks, rising on incredibly wobbly feet and hooking the handle of the bucket with his pinky. 

Wordlessly, he turns his back to his intruders and begins walking upstairs, unable to bear their presence any longer. His wings flick and tremble, uncomfortable being exposed to what he still inevitably seems as enemies. 

(It’s only fair considering how he’s actively antagonized.)

“So sorry about all this moving around…” Scar continues murmuring, feeling entirely off balance, but managing to stay steady only because Grian is in his arms. “We’ll get nice and comfy, alright? And our guests can bring the soup in.”

That’s the only acknowledgment they get.

--

GRIAN

grian lets out a soft noise at the kiss, a mix of comforted and still absolutely miserable. he isn't sure if he feels hot or cold, and his body aches. the nausea is ever-present, making any move a wretched matter, especially when coupled with his still spinning head.

he tries to hold onto scar a bit firmer, but his strength isn't there. he groans, whimpering. "slow," he pleads, not knowing how else to mitigate this.

he really doesn't want to puke if he can help it. although maybe having it over would feel better than this.

--

SCAR

“Slow,” Scar parrots, purposely stilling himself for a moment before continuing at a steadier pace. He didn’t realize he was rushing, honestly, but it makes sense.

He wants those eyes off of his back.

He thinks he hears the sound of pillaring blocks, and that’s likely for the best. 

“Nice and slow,” he confirms again, trying to keep Grian level once they’re past the steps. 

--

aaaand i’ll wrap it up with that. :3

[enruint]

clown jumpscare on the dash. the clown is me. i had this whole essay written out but i decided not to post that bc i am allergic to being perceived and to ever share what's going on with me. sorry chat if i were a character in a show or book i'd be the one the fans would psycho-analyze and decide that 'he'd rather have his nails pulled out one by one than share his feelings tf???' does that mean i'd be the dreaded fan fav?? having the most outrageous takes written about me??? i am joking. but also i am not. as in i am not joking about not wanting to share beyond the bare minimum on the dash right now. gotta keep up my clown face after all JHSABJKDDF anyway!! let me be srs for just a second: the one thing i will share is that i feel so burnt out. and that in turn makes me feel so icky when i log in here. i don't know what it is but i've been on a sort of semi-hiatus for 4 months alrdy and nothing really changed. i want to write here but i also don't want to. it's sickening honestly. i am going to put this blog on an official hiatus rn when it comes to ic writing until i know what to do. you're free to unfollow bc i really don't know when i'll be writing here and i hate saying that i will and then end up not doing anything. save for maybe writing some meta posts once in a blue moon, i don't think i'll be doing much. and even that i can't promise at this point. all this to say that i'll continue to be very scarce for a while. or i'll just remake. it's all up in the air for now. we'll see what future me decides.

[bumblingbabooshka]

Harry Kim saying Naomi is lucky to be born on Voyager and that he would have given "anything" to have her life when he was a kid...

[fuji09]

I'm just now seeing this and I debated whether or not to say anything more about what I said in my post that this person is talking about. They said this like a month ago, but my words are being used as a way to prove that any negative thoughts towards a character who is a person of color is automatically racist, and that is really hurtful considering as a Hispanic person, I know how it feels to have people be racist towards me or see people actively be racist about characters who are people of color.

When I said that I know that Derek tied Deaton up and punched him, that wasn't me saying that it's ok and we should ignore what Derek did wrong in this situation. I'll talk about anything that any of the characters have done wrong. But my post was about Deaton and things he has done and said. I can absolutely make a separate post about things Derek did wrong, I know he fucked up a lot. I also understand why he did the things he did, fear is a very powerful emotion and motivator. Fear can override our rational thinking to protect ourselves, even when those actions aren't the correct actions to take.

As someone with ADHD who can go down every rabbit hole in existence for hours on end, if I don't stick with the topic at hand, which in my post the topic was Deaton, then I can end up completely off topic and lose what I was originally trying to express. I do my best to stick with one character at a time, at most two, in a post so I can stay on track. If that comes across as me not caring about the shit other characters did, that's not on me. That's others making assumptions about me due to things I didn't say and that's just ridiculous.

I don't hate Deaton. I don't think Deaton is evil. I don't have personal headcanons trying to make him evil. What I do have is the need to write out my thoughts about characters and see what others think as well to see if I'm possible taking something differently than intended or if I hit the mark or even if there's more than one way to interpret something.

I'm not going to gloss over the bad or mean things a character does because they aren't white. That does nothing to help actual racism within fandom. I will call out shit no matter what someone's skin color is.

I'm quite aware that Teen Wolf is about Scott. I know he's the main character and have no issue with that. I'm happy I get representation in a main character. I'm not trying to ignore that so there isn't that fueling any of my thoughts. I'm not creating headcanons to demonize Deaton. What I am doing is seeing the things Deaton says and does and judging based on that.

To me, Deaton did do Derek a little dirty. That's my personally feelings. Whether he actually did or not, it's how I felt. Honestly I feel like every character did someone dirty at least once. Because that's how people are, we all do someone dirty in our lifetime. We all fuck up. I also don't think it's fair to instantly jump to someone is being racist because of something they felt about a character.

I never said there was something wrong with Deaton helping Scott and mentoring him. It's good he did! I just felt that with Derek, instead of putting him down, he could have offered advice. Or even do both! Tell him something he is doing wrong and offer a better way at doing it. I would want anyone to do that because I feel kindness is the better way to go. Which is why I do my best to be kind, even when I'm being talked down to and insulted.

I understand Deaton is Scott's mentor. I understand he will have a lot of focus on Scott. But I guess because if I was Deaton, I would help them all as much as I had the ability to, because I understand the trauma they have all been through.

Trauma doesn't care if you're an adult, trauma doesn't care if you're a millionaire. Trauma rewires the brain. And Derek has had a lot of trauma in his life to the point where he is not a functioning adult. For 2 seasons Derek doesn't get an actual place to live, he squats in the burned up ruins of his old home and the ruins of an abandoned train station. The guy has no idea how to adult, and as someone who had to endure trauma hindering mental growth and not knowing how to function as an adult, I feel empathetic towards Derek. I understood the fear and the anger. I understood the hurt and confusion. Having to play catch up due to trauma after trauma is hard and its frustrating.

So yes, I will have a little more empathy towards characters I can relate to, but I still have empathy for other characters as well.

Just because I didn't bring up the sheriff, doesn't mean I feel he did everything right about the Hale fire. Hell, I don't even know if Stilinski was even the sheriff when the fire happened. But if he was, then yes, he did Derek dirty by not solving it and seeing that the fire was arson and catching everyone that helped cover it up. If he wasn't the sheriff yet, then whoever was at the time, did Derek dirty.

But my post wasn't about the sheriff so I had no reason to talk about that. I can definitely talk about that on a separate post if anyone wants, but like I said above, I like to keep my posts about who I'm talking about and not add in others who have nothing to do with my post so I can keep my posts on the right track, because if I don't, I'll never get to the point I'm trying to make.

I never saw Deaton as Derek's enemy. I understand Stiles is a supporting character. I understand that for a while, Derek had the role of antagonist. I understand that Scott is the main character.

Deaton is cryptic and is called cryptic by other characters. I find characters who are cryptic generally annoying because I have a hard enough time understanding people when they aren't cryptic. Being neurodivergent makes it harder to understand things unless bluntly stated. So yeah, I'm probably going to interpret some things wrong, but that doesn't mean it has anything to do with the fact that he's black.

I put my thoughts out there to have civil discussions. To see what someone's else's pov is. If something went unnoticed. If I possibly misunderstood something. But when I do, I instantly get met with condescension, accusations of racism, and having my words twisted.

If I get something wrong, by all means please tell something is wrong and why. But don't treat me like I'm stupid. When I post my thoughts, I want conversation, not attacks. I want to figure out if how I saw things was correct or if it's more ambiguous. And there are a lot of things in this show that's ambiguous.

I haven't been in the fandom since the beginning. I've been in the fandom for a year. For me, everything has been new. So lumping me in with people who were here from the start isn't fair. I'm not them.

I get being tired of racism in fandom, trust me I get it, but jumping to the conclusion that anyone feeling anything negative towards a character who is a person of color is automatically racist is damaging. Especially when people go straight to the accusations of racism and are condescending right off the bat instead of remembering the fact that some people are new to the fandom.

My favorite part of that post is, “and yes I know Derek had tied him up and punched him.”

Like, they’re really saying ‘let’s just agree to completely disregard the fact that Deaton’s sole interaction with Derek as far as we know is being beaten up and kidnapped and instead talk about how mean Deaton is to him!’

Also, folks hating characters because of their own awful headcanons about them instead of their actual canon characterization should be laughable at this point, but mostly it’s just sad.

There is one inescapable and, to certain parts of fandom, unreconcilable fact that lies at the bottom of all of this turmoil: Teen Wolf was the story of Scott McCall. There was no episode, no plotline, no detail in 100 episodes and a movie that did not impact Scott or influence his development as the lead protagonist. From how Derek's and Peter's trip to Mexico to recover Talia's claws led directly to Derek giving Scott the "Protector of Beacon Hills" title to how Claudia Stilinski's illness and death planted the seeds of the conflict in Season 5A between Scott and Stiles, he's always at the center of everything.

It is the fundamental rejection of this idea that leads parts of the 'fandom' to create hate-fueled headcanons in order to negate it. This is quite clearly exemplified in the racist demonization of Alan Deaton. All these clearly nonsensical interpretations, from "sinister tree wizard" to "cryptic demon worshipper" to "Peter's archenemy" to "Deaton did Derek dirty," all come from the idea that it is the Hales (which somehow includes Stiles and/or any other white male character to which fandom has grown attached) who should have the rightful claim to the focus and attention of the show and the characters therein.

From a Doylist perspective, if you take my premise above as true then, of course, Deaton would spend the majority of his time and focus on Scott. Deaton served as Scott's mentor, and as narratives usually do, they used a character in that role to highlight the protagonist's struggles and strengths and to reveal the protagonist's background. For example, when the writers wanted to highlight Scott's ethics they show this through the way Deaton treats him. In Season 1, he is a 16-year-old with the keys to the animal clinic who works unsupervised. Deaton scoffs at Scott's apologies for being "all of two minutes late" and praises him for being one of the "least slacking kids in town." In Season 2, Deaton's treatment of Scott shows his faith in him when other people in his life (Stiles, his mother, Allison) doubt him. Through later seasons, Deaton treats Scott less and less like a high-school student and more and more like a partner in his clinic, highlighting Scott's maturation.

That's Deaton's role in the story; he wasn't there to help a supporting foil like Derek resolve difficulties caused by an event six years before the start of the show. When he's negative toward Derek, it serves the purpose of defending Scott.

From a Watsonian perspective, it still makes sense for Deaton to pay most of his attention to Scott. Scott works hard for Deaton, and Deaton knows he's a child from an economically-distressed broken home. Deaton also understands that Scott's been introduced to the world of the supernatural violently and against his will and that he's been placed where he has to lead more children in life-and-death situations. Since Deaton suspects Scott has the chance to become a True Alpha, Scott will need all the guidance Deaton can give him. Derek, on the other hand, was an adult millionaire who has been a werewolf all his life and whom Deaton hasn't seen for six years. Furthermore, Derek broke into his clinic, assaulted him, and kidnapped him, as well repeatedly beating Scott, who we have to stress once again is a child, once to the point of Deaton having to give him medical attention. And yet, Deaton still provided advice, knowledge, and druidic assistance to Derek, once even to risking a permanent catatonic state to aid him. But that's not enough for some people.

In any setting, it would not have been an outrageous development for Deaton to scrap his promise to Derek's mother and become Derek's enemy in order to protect teenagers like Scott, Jackson, Isaac, Erica and Boyd from Derek's predatory behavior. Oh, let me correct that: it would not have been an outrageous development if Deaton had been played by Linden Ashby.

This is why I brought up the Sheriff when trying to defend Deaton from the accusation that he "did Derek dirty." Nowhere on the screen are Emissaries described as having an obligation to the packs; they were advisors, as Peter, Derek, and even Gerard all admitted. This is why I take issue with the concept that "Deaton was the Hale Pack Emissary, so he owed Derek his focus and uncritical support." One of the people with an obligation to protect and serve Derek was Sheriff Noah Stilinski, and yet I have never once seen any part of the fandom criticize the sheriff for treating poor orphan Derek as a murder suspect, for not solving the Hale Fire, or for being hostile to Peter. It very, very seldom happens in fanfiction that the Sheriff is revealed to be in cahoots with the Argents or revealed to be secretly influencing Scott to take command away from the Hale's for Stiles own good. On the other hand, I am pretty sure I would have seen all these takes and more if the Sheriff had been played by Seth Gilliam.

Thus, the twisted calculus that leads to headcanons such as "Deaton let the Hale Fire happen to serve the Balance" or ubiquitous fanfiction tropes like "Deaton suppresses Stiles's natural magical abilities," springs from a fundamental, and fundamentally racist, rejection of what even the lowest amount of media literacy would take as self evident: Scott McCall was the lead protagonist. Deaton is called shady, untrustworthy and cryptic even today because his advice and actions didn't conform to an interpretation of the show that was never going to happen. The Hales were antagonist or allies; Stiles --- as popular as he was and as much focus as he got -- was a supporting character. For this entitle fandom, someone has to answer for that, and a black man is as good a target as any.

[theprincessandthepie]

replaying dragon age inquisition is just an exercise in “the rebel mages would not fucking do that”

[jrueships]

Paul George on Stephen A. Smith’s Kawhi Leonard jab: “I didn’t like that moment… Kawhi wants to play… We exhausted a lot out of Kawhi this season. So at some point your body breaks you down… I didn’t appreciate that moment. I know I laughed because the situation was lighthearted, but deep down it was like you gotta let that go, Stephen A.”

Paul George, knight in shining armor