#silent nemesis family au

[w0w0zella]

Oh god this is so fucking awkward and weirdd... but uh anyways. I have missed ur silent nemesis arts now and since you're open for drawing anything (except for nsfw and shits ig) I thought of asking you to draw my Silent Nemesis Family AU!

Ik i made a weird design for them but pls omg i beg you😭

(Also G. Joe and Thomas F. doesn't change design since I like the way they are right now)

You can look at my newest post, probably saying my Family Au idk man.

Im gonna sobs violently, uwuauwhehwhheueoejrbfkdkekdowjodhdmwoefapwifwphdlwked😭😭😭😭

(I DONT WANT TO ASK ANONYMOUSLY BCS ITS ALSO WEIRDDDD EHHHEAEIJ)

aw hell yueah ,man personally i think joe and thomas would be literally the worlds most shit parents but you go for it .... fuck yes............

[dhiabackflips03]

Silent Nemesis Family Au >–|0

(Made by Dhia, which is me)

Took me 9 hours> to draw each of their human design. Also regretting even for starting this damn thing.

`Meet Desian"

(Edit) I forgot to include their cat.

[delcakoo]

i’ve just been spamming you but hear me out😭😭 the knife picture got me thinking.. ni-ki but assassin AU that’s it that’s the plot🫡🫡

-🍒

cherri ur brain!!! sorry this is bad but i wanted to do smthn for u T-T slight gore warning

11:57PM — being an assasin constantly had its ups and downs, but perhaps the most annoying factor is how competitive the underground industry really is. to be specific, your strikingly handsome yet sly nemesis that went by nishimura riki, who’s challenged you on more jobs than you could count.

oh, how he pissed you off. the amount of times he’s stolen your missions and claimed bounties for himself was astronomical — though, it wasn’t like you haven’t done the same to him on numerous ocassions, including now.

either way, it was no excuse for him to be treating you like this when people could be coming to investigate any minute.

both wrists held tightly into his larger grip, niki pushes you against the luxurious wall of the park family’s mansion, hands restrained strictly above your head. both of you breathe heavily, and you try to ignore the crimson blood staining and dripping cruelly against the assasin’s once soft face (though at this point in your career, it wasn’t the most unusual sight).

his slicked back hair — once prepared neatly for the wealthy family’s party — has started falling out of place and onto his forehead, enhancing the messed up look following the harsh glare he sends your way. “what the fuck is wrong with you.” tone as sharp as the knife he places against your throat, the taller male pins you further all while you do your best to struggle away.

“i knew you were gonna find a way to mess everything up as soon as i saw you prancing around the ballroom, pretending like you weren’t busy plotting a murder in that pretty head of yours,” he spits. “this was my mission.”

“uhuh, you say that as if you weren’t planning the exact same thing, jackass.” attempting to elbow his arm away, you both seem to forget that only a feet away lies the narcissistic rich kid that is park sunghoon, blood drooling messily against his neatly slit throat while you both wrestle in each other’s grips. “always so unprofessional, do you wanna get us both caught you fucking lunatic?”

that seems to give niki a reality check. he glances over at the lifeless body pressed against the wall, biting his plump lip before reluctantly releasing you to conceal his dagger once more.

just at that moment, knocking echoes from the bedroom door nearby along with the panicked voice of a male servant. “mr. park? this young woman has been mourning for you, may you please come assist her soon? she says it is urgent!”

you and niki share a burning stare of understanding. the motive for the case; put an end to the heartbreaking son of the park family. “how many girls do you think he’s messed with?” you murmur.

niki’s movements are clearly trained as his feet silently pace over to the bedroom window. “nearly as many jobs we’ve taken combined, i’d say.”

it was weird having such a conversation with your enemy that didn’t invole threats or piercing glares in between. you despised how in the end, niki did this for.. partially good reason just like you. growing up in a community like this, it wouldn’t exactly be simple to go try and live a normal life now anyway.

following his trail, you pull your mask back on with a pondering sigh. “we could make a good team, don’t you think?”

he freezes, one booted foot up on the windowsill. “what? you got a crush on me now or something?“

you roll your eyes. “in your dreams, it was just a suggestion, doofus.” impulsively, you shove the fellow assasin out of the way, using the grip of your gloved hand to take his spot on top of the open window.

he watches as you calmly jump off the ledge, gripping onto the mansion’s roof in preparation to flee. “if you change your mind, let me know next time. i wouldn’t mind splitting pay with a pretty boy i guess.” another blank exchange of looks, and you’re off into the night sky, leaving a now flustered boy alone in the nearly pitch black mansion.

niki wasn’t too sure if he should be more interested in your offer because of the money, or the fact that he’d be spending time killing people with his crush.

assasin niki who pretends to hate u but is secretly infatuated by ur coolness >>> 😞

[tfp-enthusiast]

Perhaps another cons x teen femme bot 🙏 with any cons you’d like + shockwave!

Tho she isnt really innocent compared to your other post, she’s been affected by the war with struggles of isolating & depression etc. I imagine though the cons are tough they’d all feel something for her, she grew up in the war and didn’t get to experience the good they were able to :(

Con's X Teen!GN!Bot!Reader

[I'm happy that you liked it anon! I love the idea of the bots/cons having to care for a sparkling/teen and becoming attached]

[I may make an real series of this when I have my Inbox clear/mostly empty because I don't want to have yet another thing that I promise but don't work for months on *looks at the neutral bot AU*]

You where born in the middle of the war with only your carrier there for you. Considering the fact that you where probably the first generation born in the war you where treated entirely different that the ones before you.

You where trained to fight and defend yourself, your carrier was by your side every step you took, and while you where a very powerful young bot you still where just a child.

You already lost your Sire, it was only a matter of time until your carrier would die too, therefore was it the best decision, made by your carrier, to put you in a stasis pod and pray that you will wake up at a safe place and find a new family.

Soundwave

He learned of you because he sent Lazerbeak

He was a little surprised, not that anyone could see, when he saw such a young bot and impressed when he saw how you fought against the vehicons

You where still a little confused but used your size to your advantage but get caught by a group of vehicons at the end

When you first met him in person everyone was confused and a little creeped out because the both of you just stared at each other

Soundwave had to watch over you because you seemed more happy when no one talked with you

After some time and in private you would talk with him over the last cycles and sometimes about your 'childhood'

He thinks that it's a little sad that you only had war in your life until now and shows you pictures of cybertron before everything went down

Soundwave doesn't actually think that there is much wrong with you other than the fact that you seem to have some depressing thoughts when you think about your sire and carrier but Lazerbeak is your best emotional support ever

Shockwave

Meets you only because you get sent to his lab so Megatron can know what you could be useful for on the ship because you weren't trusted to leave the Nemesis at first

He grew relatively fond of you fast because you where very silent and only spoke when needed

He never even thought that there was anything wrong with you, sure you grew up in the war but that's how it works now, he only got a little curious after you spoke with him one day over your past

Over time you grew comfortable around Shockwave, and the other way too, and started to open up more

When you where helping him with inventions you where allowed to talk, unless he said something about it, and sometimes you would talk about what it was like when you where on cybertron

This led to him asking Soundwave for a special folder on your datapad of cybertron before the war which you where allowed to look at when you had free time or trouble slipping into recharge

While he is not the best at motivation he can be a good listener and thanks to his nature you know that when he says something he means it and for you that means a lot

Predaking

When you meet Predaking you have been on the Nemesis for a little while and where trusted not to run away so you where allowed to roam freely

While Megatron and the others where trying to find out what to do with a young bot like you you found yourself on the outside of the ship

You, like everyone else, saw a predacon for the first time in your life and even though you where a very mature bot for your age you still had some childish curiosity in you

So you approached him with caution and somehow you came there every cycle

When Predaking transformed for the first time you witnessed it and he could see your expression on your faceplates finally without having to guess what you feel

You just stood there like: O.O and tackled him with a hug

He was so proud of you for showing your emotions to him

He knows how you feel and helps you find out everything you can about cybertron before the war

There where many times where you, instead of Starscream, where with him and the both of you searched through the databanks to know more about cybertron

Often you both would fall into recharge while Predaking is curled around you, no matter if in root or beast form, and you would loosely hold an databank with pictures of cybertron while it still stood and was alright

Knockout

He learned about relatively early considering he somehow always knows the latest tea

You got sent into the medbay because of your little crash landing

First meeting was a little awkward, Knockout tried his best to get you to talk and is worried that you are just like Soundwave

When you are sent to him because it was needed to lear what you could be useful for, and they needed more medics, both of you internally dreaded the meeting

Over time you got used to each other and you actually had full conversations when you where alone

Knockout became some sort of therapy for you because he sees that you clearly got issues because of your past and the war you have almost every second cycle a 'therapy session' of sorts

Knockout loves to tell you about cybertron and even gets some videos about the different places across the planet

Breakdown

He was the first one to meet you actually because he was sent to investigate the crash and look for the bot that could be in it

Because you didn't know him and you learned to keep distance you kicked him into faceplate out of reflex

You met him soon after you get brought to the ship again and quietly said your sorry for what happened

Considering he's the most sympathetic bot on the ship you stay around him for the most part

That obviously doesn't go unnoticed and Megatron decides that you will just go wherever Breakdown goes

You both talk a lot once you get comfortable and Breakdown feels really bad for you and tries his best to give you what he had when he was still a young bot

This causes you to vent to him since he is the one bot you trust the most

When you can't recharge you often go into the medbay because Breakdown is almost always there and if not his habsuite is almost directly next to the medbay and you are always allowed to enter

On nights where you can't recharge and spend with Breakdown he often tells you about cybertron and his childhood memories

[halloweenhuh]

Halloween, Huh? Day 5 Reveals

No fear, no fences, nobody - no reins - Rated E - 8,474 words Henry takes Alex to a nearby farm outside Austin to teach him how to ride a horse. Eventually, they stop at a log cabin in the words for the night, and they decide to try another form of riding.

.🎃🎃🎃.

I don't know why all the trees change in the fall - Rated T - 2,513 words Alex has had a terrible day. It's raining, it's cold, and he's absolutely miserable. All he wants to do is dry off and collapse in bed. But when he walks through the door, Henry is ready and waiting to take care of him. He even has a surprise that he's cooking up in the kitchen. And Alex gets to take a trip down memory lane.

.🎃🎃🎃.

Cat or Canary - Rated T - 6,945 words Come in costume they said. It would be a fun party they said. Tell that to the fact that he is stranded with his arch nemesis, blindfolded, on the side of the road, shirtless, soaked in something he isn’t even sure what to name. Alex would think that would be enough for one evening, but Henry kissed him only moments ago and he isn’t sure if he is more mad at Henry, or himself for liking it. Halloween is about to be one wild night.

.🎃🎃🎃.

Handsome stranger - Rated T - 6,647 words Strangers to Lovers AU where Alex and Henry are strangers who accidentally win the couple costume competition at the party they go to on Halloween. How did strangers end up wearing the most coordinated, matching costumes? Call it faith *** Henry has to say something back, he knows he does. But his brain seems to have chosen this exact moment to go on vacation. All he has to say is a simple, "yes", how hard could that possibly be? The answer is very. When Henry clears his throat again, takes another deep breath, and gets ready to say yes, he's suddenly hit by the realization that he's been silent for much longer than could possibly be considered socially acceptable. Christ, I can't do this, he anxiously thinks to himself while still busy deciding on the least creepy way to break the silence and agree to the man's request for a drink. But then the man, who had been patiently waiting with a soft smile on his face scoffs and glares at Henry, mumbling something like "dick" and walking away looking offended and disappointed. It's then that Henry realizes to his own horror, that he'd said "Christ I can't do this", out loud.

.🎃🎃🎃.

Magical Mishap - Rated T - 2,658 words Alex and Henry belong to rival families of witches. They are constantly trying to one-up each other through their spells. When one of their spells has a less-than-desirable effect, Alex and Henry have to come together to rectify the situation before the rivalry between their families delves into an all-out war.

.🎃🎃🎃.

Red, White, and Royal Switcheroo - Rated T - 6,405 words "Henry’s role, Alex thinks, is much easier to play." - Red, White, and Royal Blue, Chapter 1

Or, a body swap au set during Alex's "make nice" trip to England in which Alex and Henry have to play at being each other, and Alex discovers the above is very much not the case. 

.🎃🎃🎃.

A little note for all of our wonderful creators: if your work was revealed by the Palace today, please be sure to update your publication date to today’s date so it shows up fresh in the AO3 feed.

[istadris]

An entire essay about Boouigi? Please, go ahead! Rant and rave to your hearts desire! ❤️

OKay first let's talk about how King Boo is the perfect nemesis to Luigi the way Bowser is to Mario.

Mario is constantly associated with fire, is a physical, direct fighter. He's straightforward and simple in his concept, and so is Bowser : hero vs dragon, loud braggart vs silent humble guy, that kind of thing.

Luigi is...a weird case. He's more flawed and complex; he's scared, he's greedy, he's feeling overshadowed, he's clumsy, he's a loser. He's usually Mario's counterpart when it comes to ability but that's hardly consistent : is the opposite of fire lightning? Ice? Water?

What is Luigi's deal ?

One of the most consistent theme of that yin-yang is the Sun/Moon theme. Mario, bright, burning, shining, warming through his presence and bringing life. Luigi, shy and secretive, hiding in the shadows, weird powers abound, and his games are all focused around night and ghosts (and by extension death).

There's some moral ambiguity in his actions too: fans have been debating for years about how much E.Gadd and King Boo are justified in their respective actions. Is E.Gadd a sinister scientist capturing sentient creatures and people into portraits, or a well-meaning scientist trying to prevent ghosts from being dangerous? Is King Boo trying to protect his Boos or is he just a petty bastard? You wouldn't get that kind of debate about Mario fighting Bowser (unless you're an edgy youtuber trying to make noise)

And people have pointed out before me, but Luigi is often paired with nice people and villains alike, because where Mario is incorruptible as the Hero, Luigi would be more vulnerable to the sirens of evil, even if he never actually turned evil, because he's a sweety pie.

EDIT : HERE'S THE POST I WAS THINKING ABOUT REGARDING LUIGI'S WEAKNESS TO CORRUPTION

He's more like King Boo than he would like.

There's also the supreme irony of Luigi being so terrified of ghosts that of course his main enemies are all kind of ghosts, spirits and such. And yet ! He can be friendly with them! Polterpup of course, and other ghosts, he wouldn't attack them if he could! He just wants to take a nap without someone trying to murder him!!! So it's funny for me to picture him befriending the Boos, including their King, especially when at first the latter wants to KILL KILL BITE BITE. Speaking of which, I love fanarts in which KB has a gaggle of lil boos cheering him up in his attempts to woo Luigi. Go get'im, boss! You're irresistible, surely this time he'll fall for you!

Oh yeah, because I LOVE the trope of KB having been trying to seduce Luigi all this time and kidnapping his family was the best he could come up with. Honestly, look at how long he let Luigi run around in every Mansion instead of just swarming him!

(Now I want a fic where KB just goes "you know what, screw it, I've waited long enough ,ALL ON HIM!!" ...how angsty or humorous it gets is up to you ;p)

I had a joke at some point (and now it fits with the ghost seducer AU) that all that money Luigi finds is KB paying Luigi for cleaning up, or sugar daddy-ing him up and trying to get him to stay.

KB : *throws gold ingots and diamonds at Luigi* TAKE MY MONEY, WHORE!!

And oh, the naughty, naughty things King Boo could do with this tongue...

[shi-daisy]

Together we Rest

Eris Week let's gooooo!!!! I feel do bad I couldn't do more during Neris week and considering WaveWave Week is around the corner I have my hands full but still I needed show love to the prettiest redhead around and his brothers (SJM name em!) So here we have some brotherly fluff taking place in my fanfic AU (This is a self ad, go read A Court of Threads & Daisies)

@erisweek2023

Eris Week- Day 1- Family

Together we Rest

First he slept alone whenever possible on cold sheets and blocking the yelling and pleading. Eris wasn't fond of hearing his parents arguing but ever since he was a young child he'd grown accustomed to that noise. It quickly became background noise.

Then they had Nemesis. And if he thought being the only heir was bad he hated having his precarious position be dangled over his and his brother's head constantly by Beron was not helping.

For a time he hated his sibling. Always loud, crying, losing his mind, it was too much to deal with, and their family situation didn't help the matters. Until one night the fighting began again and Eris just started at the ceiling as he lay in bed.

"Eris, can I stay with you?"

He looked so small and pale, like a tangle of fire orange curls with tiny legs and blood red eyes. Even at his worse he couldn't deny the young boy's request. So he made room in the bed and let Nemesis climb in, the boy shivered even as he slept, but Eris held him close and they both finally rested.

Then came Gideon, larger than then both and with a hellish temper, yet when night came and no once could sleep he'd let his younger brothers join him and they all cuddled close together. It was the only time he could recall seeing Gideon smile, that was his only happy memory of the third prince that had been gone for a while now. He liked to think that perhaps in death he smiled more.

The situation repeated with the brunette and amber eyed twins, Tybalt and Arryn who wore the same face yet were two sides of the same coin. One would grow in to a quiet archer that wanted nothing more than to be a tailor. The other wanted to sail the seas, amd ironically met his end in Spring, the only foreign land he visited in life. Maybe he sailed a galleon in death, at least that's what Eris hoped. The twins had been the quietest of them all, and sleep motionless most nights, though he did remember feeling Tybalt holding his hand subconsciously in slumber when noise got louder and their mother's voice caused the tailor to wince in pain.

Cedric was the sixth. A silent prodigy alchemist content to be ignored by the world and ignore it right back as he toiled away in his lab. The redhead should've been born in a lab coat with thick glasses because since he could speak and walked that is all he wore and became. Yet even for his disgust toward physical contact he'd joined them in their makeshift pile to protect himself from their reality. Often times he'd wake up first and bring them food before Beron ever knew where they all truly slept and how Eris was the one giving them what he never could.

Finally there was Lucien. He and Nemesis knew full well that they were half brothers only. That this child who unlike any of them had received the grace and protection of their mother, was the only one of them fathered by the man she truly loved. Nemesis had resented him for it, at least for a time before the resentment was directed at Lady Imogen. Eris never could, even if he acted cold and uncaring, he knew that the poor baby boy would suffer more than rest of them. Beron would make sure of that.

The screaming started and they all came in order. Nemesis, Gideon, Tybalt, Arryn and Cedric, but now the line didn't end with Cedric and he could hear the scared wails of a baby in the next room.

Eris didn't listen to protests as he walked out, picked up baby Lucien and went back to his room. Just by placing his head on his chest, Lucien stoped crying, looking up at his eldest brother and cooing.

"No! You can't be serious! He shouldn't get to stay!" Gideon protested loudly, almost causing Lucien to start crying again.

"Like it or not, he stays. He's stuck in this family with us, he deserves peace too."

Nemesis rolled his eyes. "I'm fine with having him here but if he needs a diaper change either you or Cedric do it!"

The scientist scoffed. "Why me?!"

"You mix weird shit in the lab how's baby crap any worse?"

"Fuck you."

They all started laughing as they settled in. Eris was careful to keep Lucien steady and secure upon his chest. He'd have to sleep as still as the twins, but it didn't matter if him and all his brothers were safe.

Hearing baby Lucien coo in his sleep was all the confirmation he needed to drift away himself.

***

Time and growing older kept them from continuing this ritual as a sort of comfort. Then Jesminda died, and then Arryn and Gideon died, Lucien renounced them so harshly he'd only seen the man on a handful of occasions until the war settled and the connected again. They all had brushes with death, heartbreak, and were still dealing with Beron's looming threats.

Eris put on two candles in front of his fallen brother's portraits. He'd let then burn until morning, hoping that today on the anniversary of their death they'd be safe wherever they were, be it the afterlife or reincarnated.

"Hurry up, I'm sleepy."

He nearly jumped when Nemesis yawned as he wacked the door open. Even after all these years he kept the messy hair and had dark circles under his red eyes. Cedric followed, chosing to keep his long orange hair in a pony tail and his glasses by the nightstand. Finally Tybalt came in, and bowed before the portraits rather than settle in the bed inmediatly.

"I hate that there's less of us, and that we're missing Lucien." Tybalt commented

"Bitch baby is fine, he's with Tamlin you don't need to worry, Ty." Nemesis told him as he turned to his side and got ready to sleep.

"Don't call our brother that. Just because he's well does not mean we shouldn't miss him. At least now we don't have to worry about the noise waking him." Cedric chastaised.

Yes the noise. Noise that ceased as Beron was now in a comatose state and Imogen resided in the Day Court with Helion. There was no reason for them to keep sleeping in a pile desperately trying to keep away their shared nightmare.

Or maybe there was, as even if they were adults freed from Beron's shackles, albeit temporarily, they were the only ones who understood full well what that hell was like. No one else would ever know why they sometimes woke in the middle of the night crying and waiting for the others to provide a comforting hug, even if by morning it would all be forgotten and they had to resume their competition for their father's worthless favor.

Eris settled in again, hugging Nemesis, taking Tybalt's hand and making sure Cedric was comfortable in his far off corner of the gigantic bed.

"Good Night." He said, and they all answered.

He drifted off thinking about Lucien and hoping he too was sleeping well. For all the animosity and fights and even blood between them all, Eris had concluded that more than their parents or their distant cousins, his four remaining siblings were more of a family than anyone else. And come what may during the looming war, he wouldn't dare lose a single one of them again.

[sitp-recs]

Hi Liv! I know you're still on a fandom break, but your rec lists are the best and I really need some Harry pov fics—think Away Childish Things, Nice Things, and Here's the Pencil Make it Work all of which which I've already reread too many times in the past six months for me to describe accurately myself as "okay" so if you know of any other similar fics I'd much appreciate it!

Tysm and hope ur having a lovely evening 💜

Hello friend, happy to help! I haven’t read a lot recently so I apologize for not reccing any new fics here. I’m assuming you already know Turn by SG which has an iconic Harry POV, so I have listed other titles with a focus on pining!Harry. I hope you find some exciting new reads here!

Still Life, orphaned (M, 3k)

in a rambling way by @fw00shy (T, 7.5k)

Ron knocked Hermione up, and now Harry's got to figure out how to clone himself so that his friends don't split up fighting over him. Falling for Draco again was never part of the plan.

Clear As Mud by scoradh (M, 9k)

Set post-war and post-Harry's-conscience...

Poppiholla by @moonflower-rose (M, 12k)

Harry had accepted that he would pine silently for Malfoy forever, but one, humid summer might change that.

Take These Lies by @pennygalleon (E, 20k)

There’s a portrait of his godfather in Draco Malfoy’s potions shop and Harry needs to know why. But that’s not why he keeps coming back.

Faint Indirections by ignatiustrout (2019, T, 29k)

Draco Malfoy is the last person Harry expects to turn up in Boston, Massachussetts. But now he's here, and he won't stop requesting books from the library where Harry works.

On Your Shore by @xanthippe74 (M, 35k)

Clearing out a remote house full of cursed collectibles in the Outer Hebrides? Not a problem for an experienced curse breaker like Harry Potter. Spending a week with the straight, happily-married man that he’s starting to have feelings for? And sharing a bed with him at night? Surely Harry can handle that, too.

Rush (For A Gap That Exists) by @sleepstxtic-drarry (M, 42k) - F1 AU

A story of love and loss that grew amidst the most infamous rivalry in Formula One history: the story of Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter.

Modern Love by @tackytigerfic (E, 61k)

Harry Potter, of all people, knows that life isn’t always fair. And no one gets to be happy all of the time. But surely there’s something more—something better—than a rubbish Ministry job, and a lonely old house, and that feeling that everyone out there is doing a better job of living than Harry is.

The Beauty of Thestrals and Other Unseen Things by @writcraft (E, 63k)

Harry has terrific friends, an amazing girlfriend and his job as Head Auror enables him to work on challenging cases and Ministry reform. He just wishes he could work out why he’s been so out of sorts.

The Promise of Summer by Omi_Ohmy (M, 66k)

How was Harry supposed to know that coming back for eighth year would be so confusing? Everything is the same, and yet not the same. And nowhere is this more obvious than with Draco Malfoy. Harry finds himself once more watching and following Malfoy, trying to work him out.

Home Truths by @skeptiquewrites, art by @fantalfart (E, 67k)

In the off-season Harry decided to fix up Grimmauld Place and found that Draco Malfoy was the only person who could help him. A demanding career and unrelenting press scrutiny were enough to deal with before Harry added a house with a mind of its own, family history, and a tense, flirty, complicated relationship with his childhood nemesis to the mix.

Little Deaths and How to Avoid Them (or Draco Malfoy's Guide to Stop Dying and Start Living Instead) by nerakrose and dustmouth (T, 96k)

Malfoy is way too interested in coroner reports for somebody who's definitely not looking for ways to die, Harry wants to be friends with him, and Ginny wants to break up with Harry.

Grounds for Divorce by Tepre (E, 122k)

Malfoy finds a coin. Harry finds a letter.

By the Grace by lettered (T, 140k)

Harry is an Auror instructor. Malfoy wants to be an Auror.

[peonierose]

For @openheartappreciationweek I decided to share two snippets from two of my Open Heart AU‘s I’ve been working on 🧡💚

Amber

Book: Open Heart

Type: AU fic

Rating: Mature

Series: Chapter 1/?

Summary: Bryce has had superpowers ever since high school. Surgeon by day, superhero by night. Though he’s not the only one who’s got skills. His nemesis Lady Ambrose is just as skilled as Bryce is.

A/N: Thank you to @mvalentine for inspiring this story with your ask. I would’ve never written this AU or even come up with this superhero vs. villain story if it wasn’t for you so thank you 💓

Boston

12 years ago…

Bryce

I was still in high school when I discovered I was somehow different from the rest of my friends. I could do things with light that they couldn’t. I thought I was just seeing things. Boy was I wrong.

You probably ask yourself what makes me so special from the rest?

Slowly over time I developed photokinesis. It’s the power to manipulate light. Cool huh? Well when it comes to learning and training? Not so much. I’ve had to learn all of those things on my own.

It was pretty fucking scary for me, because there was no one I could ask for advice. No one handed me a manual or helped me correct and improve on my mistakes.

Slowly I discovered some of my powers. Over time I got better with my skills and abilities.

I know I know. It doesn't sound all that impressive at first, but when you think about it, it’s actually one of the coolest powers there is.

I can fract, bend, or move light.

Create holographic images, turn invisible, and even move at light-speed simply by adjusting the properties of the light that surrounds me.

Trust me I’ve tried out many things. Simply to see what’s possible with light manipulation.

Soon after I finished high-school my parents got arrested for financial fraud. I never saw it coming. None of our friends and family did.

Life got pretty lonely after that. When everyone stares at you. Silently judging you.

You were basically unfollowed overnight everywhere. From picta, from any social channels. No more party invitations, no social gatherings.

Soon you were shunned by everyone.

That’s when I vowed to do better and to provide my sister Keiki with a different life.

One where she isn’t judged by what our parents did. I graduated from Stanford with honors and became her guardian. After that we moved to Boston.

I was the only relative she could stay with. Not that I’m complaining. I love my little sister more than anything in this world, but I was scared to death.

Juggling university, two jobs, taking care of my sister. It’s an awful lot for a 21-year-old guy.

I didn’t want Keiki or anyone else to know what kind of powers I have. Imagine ending up in a lab somewhere, because they want to figure out how your powers work and profit off of you.

After everything went down with my parents I got into an emotional turmoil. Everything was just too much. So I started running. Exercising all the time. Just to put all this restless energy somewhere. At the same time I was getting my body into shape.

I feel a lot calmer afterwards. Running helps me clear my head. It also helped me to improve on my skills.

The girl turns her head and I catch golden blonde hair in the dimly lit street lights. She looks like an angel who fell from heaven.

Yeah I know sounds super cliché, but it’s true. She has this soft, feminine aura that clings to her. An inner light that’s so radiant you always want to be surrounded by it. To bask in that light every single day.

The Royal & I

Book: Open Heart

Type of story: AU fic

Rating: General

Series: 1/?

Summary: Luna is a Princess about to get married off to a Prince from another kingdom, to strengthen the bonds between the kingdoms. Then she meets Bryce and falls in love with him, but he’s not from a royal bloodline. What will Luna do? Follow her heart or her duty?

A/N: A huge thank you to @lilyoffandoms Who inspired me greatly for my AU The Royal & I @starrystarrytrouble Who not only inspired me for my AU The Royal & I but also allowed my to use her name in my story 💚🧡 Ruby is a very special friend to Luna. So hopefully I did her justice ❤️

Waking up in a comfy bed and the softest sheets you can think of. This is truly marvelous. I sigh and sink back into my bed.

I just closed my eyes to linger for a couple more seconds when I hear a stern knock at my door.

Well looks like the moment is officially over. I get out of my bed, pushing the sheets aside. Getting into my slippers and putting my pink satin robe on.

I open the door and see my PR manager Ruby standing outside of my room. Ready to knock again. In case I haven’t heard it the first time.

“Good morning your highness,“ she says holding a clipboard close to her chest and dressed in a suit in a light sage green. Her auburn hair glinting in the light of the hallway.

Smiling at me.

“How many times have I told you to call me Luna. Adding the highness feels unnecessary,“ I say and open the door wider to let her in.

She walks in and closes the door behind her.

“So what’s on the agenda today?“ I ask opening my closet.

I’m dressing myself. I don’t like too many people in my space.

Ruby starts reading off of her clipboard.

“Breakfast with your mother and sister. Dinner with your father, where you will discuss the arrangement between Rosario and Aldana,“ she says.

I groan at that.

I’m supposed to marry this guy. Prince Phillip from the kingdom of Aldana to strengthen our political bonds. To unify two kingdoms. Showing people we can coexist together.

I’d rather eat turkey - which I don’t like - than spending time with the prince, much less marry him.

“I wish I could be normal for one day. That’s all I ask,“ I mutter which Ruby doesn’t comment on. Bless her. I’m glad she’s here.

I pick out a magenta dress, that ends at the knees, with thin spaghetti straps. Get my pink heels on.

Put on some light make-up, leaving my long blonde hair open and wild just the way I like it. Then I turn around to face Ruby.

Ruby looks at me with compassion.

“I can’t imagine how you must feel. Maybe Prince Phillip isn’t so bad. I’ve heard only good things about him,“ Ruby tries to reassure me.

I nod and put on a fake smile. Though Ruby sees right through me. I smile softly at her and give her a hug. Rules be damned.

“So what else is on that list of yours?“ I ask as we get out into the hallway, down into the garden to have breakfast with my mother and sister.

“As requested we’re visiting the animal shelter today. I’ll take some picture of the animals to post on our social media channels,“ Ruby grins her hazel eyes shining with glee.

I smile at her. I love that we’re donating to the local animal shelter. All those animals deserve a home. If I’m a princess then the least I can do is use my title to make the world a better place.

We walk into the garden.

Freshly mowed. Its bushes and trees are being manicured to perfection. Like everything else in the palace.

I try not to let that upset me. Breathing in the fresh air. The flowery scent of peonies and magnolia trees tickles my nose. Spring looks beautiful. When new leaves and flower buds are blossoming, it feels like a fresh start. Like a beautiful new beginning.

Seems as if my mother and my sister Taliyah Aurea of Rosario are already seated. Or Tally as I like to call my sister. She’s my younger sister and so mischievious all the time. I love her.

Ruby excuses herself and lets us have breakfast. I wish she could join us, but it wouldn’t be proper for her to sit with us. I hate it. She’s my friend. She should sit at this table with all of us. My mother would say the etiquette doesn’t allow it. I think that etiquette is bullshit. Unfortunately I have to follow the rules just like everyone else.

“Good morning mother and Tally,“ I say and can’t resist adding her childhood nickname.

I sit down and smile at my sister and my mother who are engaged in a heated debate about spring colors, not really acknowledging my presence. I roll my eyes at that and shake my head.

Tagging my perma tags:

@annieruok94

@potionsprefect

@secretaryunpaid

@cariantha

@karahalloway

@aallotarenunelma

@inlocusmads

@mysticalgalaxysstuff

@ofmischiefandmedicine

@doriopenheart

@txemrn

@annfg8

@openheartforeverinmyheart

@quixoticdreamer16

@issabees

@the-mrsreigns

@jerzwriter

@jamespotterthefirst

@genevievemd

@made-of-roses

@amortentiaopenheart

@surrenderronnie1

OH only:

@mvalentine

@a-crepusculo

@lilyoffandoms

@zahrachoices

@liaromancewriter

@trappedinfanfiction

@takemyopenheart

@the-pale-goddess

[keaalu]

Remember Me, chapter 8

Title (chapter): Remember Me (08)

Series: Transformers, G1-based “Blue” AU

Rating: PG-13

Notes: if/when her family get her back, Skydash is going to have a very interesting vocabulary.

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

In Nemesis’ monitoring room, it had been quiet for a while. Ramjet wasn’t entirely sure what that meant. He wondered for an instant if the brat had actually died? Or vanished somehow – wouldn’t be the first sparkling with the annoying ability to walk through walls, after all.

Not sure he’d like what he’d find, it took a few moments to summon the desire to lift the databoard.

In the bottom of the bucket, Skydash was cuddled down into a ball, hugging her knees. Still alive, fortunately.

Ramjet waited an astro-second or two for a response before prompting: “Are you gonna behave if I let you out?”

Threads of frightened static emerged from the depths of the pail, but she didn’t respond otherwise.

The big jet vented a terse sigh, optics tightening, and glared down at her. “Fine. Stay in there then.”

Alarmed, the sparkling suddenly came to life – scrambling out and tipping the container over in her haste. “No bucket-!”

“Does this mean you’re gonna be good, now?” Ramjet hefted the pail in one hand, meaningfully.

“No bucket,” Skydash blurted out, scuttling backwards until her back impacted the side of the terminal. “No bucket!”

“I’m assuming that’s a yes.”

She disappeared into a small gap at floor level, still repeating the words like a mantra. “No bucket. No bucket.”

“...frag sake.” Ramjet covered his face with one hand and counted inwardly to ten thousand, before giving the slot a cursory examination. It was too low and awkwardly-angled for him to get much more than a hand into it, let alone grab for the runaway. Getting the sparkling back out would require a plasma cutter, unless she decided to emerge of her own volition.

Although by now she’d picked up a new noise that seemed to make every single last armour plate vibrate against its neighbour, and he didn’t want to get that much closer to it to be able to experiment.

Almost as bad as Dirge. “Am I being too complicated for you?” At least that horrendous siren-scream was still offline. “Come on, Tiny. Please. If you don’t quit making all that fragging noise, Megatron will come down here and silence the pair of us, permanently.”

“No bucket.”

“Fine.” He flipped the can over and propped his thruster against it. “No bucket. Are you gonna finally come out of there now?”

Little blue optics peeked out from the crevice into which their owner had wriggled. She gave a single questioning chirp.

Ramjet wondered briefly if he should attempt a grab, or if that’d just trigger more noise. Instead, carefully, slowly, trying not to spook her, he put out a hand.

Skydash inched closer to it, and stared at it for a very long time before finally climbing into his palm. He could feel her vibrating very subtly as he lifted her back up to the top of the terminal.

When he opened his fingers, she slithered limply off his hand like a rag doll, flopped out across the top of the terminal, and just lay there, unmoving.

Ramjet watched her, and pinched the bridge of his nose. A mixture of relief (because damn did the silence feel good) and concern (what new horror was the tiny brat cooking up?) washed over him in equal measures. “Yeah. That looks like a good plan.”

No new horror was forthcoming, though. Perhaps those tiny batteries were finally depleted? Her dim blue gaze slipped briefly sideways. “Sorry bite.”

Ramjet shrugged. “Eh, no big deal. Had lots worse than bites before.”

“Day say bite bad.”

“Figures that the master slaghead would be the one to teach his sparklings what’s good and bad.” Ramjet snorted. “He's probably right.”

She was silent for a few astroseconds, before adding, in a watery voice; “No bucket.”

“Sure. Whatever. No bucket.”

Peace reigned for a few breems. The sound that finally broke through the quiet was one of subtle movement – a little scuffly noise, as of someone trying not to draw attention to himself. Ramjet glanced behind to find Thrust lurking in the hallway, trying not to make it too obvious that he’d positioned himself within lunging distance of a strategic doorframe.

“So, Dirge said you smashed a mop over his helm and kicked him out,” Thrust said, warily, by way of greeting. “Is it safe for me to come in there?”

Ramjet’s expression flattened into a tired glare. “Well that all depends on why you’re here. If it’s just to heckle and make my life difficult? Then no, probably not.”

“Well, I’m meant to be on duty now, so I guess I’m here to relieve you? Buuut I can just go back to the galley if you’d rather, the Triples broke out some high grade and y’know.” Thrust jerked a thumb in a backwards point over his shoulder. “Ain’t gonna say no to that.”

Ramjet snorted, and stood up. “If anyone deserves the high-grade, it’s me. No way am I gonna stay here and let you scurry off to have fun while I do all the work.” He offered Skydash his palm and she climbed uneasily onto it.

Thrust slipped into the unoccupied chair. “You’re taking Tinybot with you?”

“Yeah. I’m gonna go stash her with her bro, assuming Hook managed to get the kid to finally stop bleeding.” Ramjet let Skydash perch on his arm; she clung to it unsettlingly tightly, turning her face away from Thrust. “Why; you wanna look after her?”

Thrust actually leaned away, subtly. “No-ot especially?”

“Then there’s your answer. Good job.” He gave his wingmate a condescending pat on the helm; Thrust swung a half-sparked return fist at him but missed by several miles. “Besides, you’d only end up scaring her into running off. There’s plenty of derelict bits on this tin can and I’m not keen to go hunting through all of ‘em.”

“That’d make being on sparkling duty pretty easy, though.”

“For you, maybe. Personally? I don’t wanna spend the rest of my life tearing the ship apart looking for a friggin’ sparkling that you couldn’t even keep one optic on.”

“Yeah yeah, fine, whatever. Don’t go blow a fuse, Captain Overwound.” Thrust put his hands up in surrender. “Anyone would think you were worried about it.”

Why was he being so careful with it, anyway? Ramjet shooed the niggles away before speaking; “Just taking a sensible precaution. Don’t wanna think about what might happen to us if we go and break it.”

“Dude, seriously – why would it matter if we did?” Thrust turned to scowl up at his wingleader. “You’re not actually scared of that bunch of cowards back on Cybertron?”

“I… didn’t say that?”

“Megatron’s not gonna care, ’specially if it gets the Screamer over here quicker.” Thrust blew out a loud sigh and let his arms flop down. “Can’t believe you, sometimes. We’ve got the upper hand for a change and you’re assuming we’re gonna lose already.”

“Hate to remind you that losing is kind of a habit, for us? Even when we do have the advantage, someone will take time out to gloat, or work on their own little scheme in the background, and oh, will you look at that, it’s all gone to slag again.”

“Right, except the usual reason it all goes to slag is sat there on Cybertron, smirking at us from a distance.” Thrust’s voice descended briefly into unintelligible mutterings. “I just wanna see the traitor get a decent punch in his ugly face, all right?”

“And when we screw up because you’re too busy trying to punch him, then what? You think Megatron’s gonna pat you on the head and say ‘never mind, at least you tried your hardest’? Or d’you think he’s gonna maybe kick you into the closest smelter?”

Thrust sulkily pursed his lips and didn’t reply.

“If we have to go plead our case with those guys, I don’t wanna be shot on sight for breaking Tiny.” Ramjet tried to swallow the words but they mostly blurted out anyway: “I don’t know about you but I’m not feeling like the most happy, fulfilled little Seeker right now, having seen how nice home looks right now.”

“Well I’m sure happier than I would be playing beast of burden under Acid Trip’s command.” Thrust’s sneer chased him across the room. “When did you get so scared of a couple of ex-Cons, anyway?”

Ramjet paused in the doorway, and looked back to meet his wingmate’s glare. “They’re ex-Cons, right. Ex-Decepticons. Traitorous slaggers, granted, but we fought alongside ‘em long enough to know they’re not that woolly in the struts. Do you seriously trust them not to run you through a mill a few times when they get their claws in you?” He shrugged, one-handedly. “Three fit, healthy, well-built mechs with a whole army behind them. How long do you reckon we’d last?”

Thrust made a psssh sound. “An army of dirt-crawling non-warriors, sure, and even they’re not scared of that blowhard slaghead. Who, by the way, hasn’t had to fight anything ’cept his own spreading aft in vorns. So y’know. Whatever. Forgive me for not immediately lubricating myself in fear.”

The white jet sighed and covered his face with his hand. “You’re worse than Dirge. Do you seriously think that’s it? There’s a reason they let the Screamer keep his helm bolted to his wings, and it wasn’t ’cause they liked his voice when he asked nicely not to be executed.”

Thrust gave him the world’s most condescending long-suffering look, and it was only the idea it’d get the kid squalling all over again that squashed Ramjet’s urge to punch him in the faceplates.

“When all you have are your wingmates, and one’s dense as slag while the other couldn’t make a decision to save his spark? The Strutless Wonder was outnumbered,” Thrust explained, sounding like a teacher with the world’s dimmest pupil. “What other option did he have except squeal and beg for mercy, like he did every time with Megatron?” He directed his glare back onto the monitors. “…Sucks to find out my wingleader’s scared of a glitching slagmunch that even a bunch of dirtbots aren’t even afraid of any more.”

“Thrust.” Ramjet leaned his head against the doorframe, letting his free arm dangle. “Primus. I just wanna be able to go home, some day. My life right now revolves around mud, and you guys, and there’s only so much of either a mech can take without going completely barking. Right now I’ve had it about up to here with you guys, today.” He waved his hand in the air as far above his helm as he could reach. “So if you’ll excuse me…” He bowed, steeply. “There’s some high-grade with my name on it, and I think I actually deserve it.”

Thrust grunted a dismissive goodbye, and sat and stared at the monitors for all of ten astroseconds, before blowing a tired raspberry and letting his arms flop down at his sides. “This is such a fragging waste of time.” He rocked his chair back onto its rear legs and propped his thrusters on the bank of terminals in front. “What are we even meant to be monitoring for these days anyway.”

He directed his attention up at the ceiling and tried counting tiles to encourage his brain to cycle into a dormant state, to take away thoughts of the high-grade his wingleader had made him miss out on. But there were only a half dozen really big tiles up there and it didn’t take very long.

“You really suck sometimes, RJ.”

The chirping alarm became the unwanted topping on Thrust’s personal slag-pile. He covered his face with both hands and tried to ignore it, for a few seconds, but it felt particularly shrill. “Agh!” He used the rim of one thruster to deliver a sour-tempered stomp to the terminal’s speakers. “What’s a mech gotta do to get a few fragging breem’s peace and quiet around here, anyway!”

The kick jogged the terminal out of sleep mode, and a fast-moving blip showed up on one of the screens. Thrust eyed it uninterestedly for a second or two, then frowned and rocked his chair back onto all four legs, leaning closer for a better look. “Oh, hey. What are you?”

The blip didn’t seem to just be passing; it drew a series of wide, flat loops through the air above the sunken Nemesis.

Thrust toggled the display to a live satellite feed for a better look.

Skimming low over the ocean like a giant black alien albatross, drawing big circles and throwing up spray from his wingtips, broadcasting an array of threatening insults on as wide a frequency range as he could access, was a former comrade.

Thrust promptly lost all desire to nap. His lips widened in a smirk.

“Mighty Megatron, sir? We’ve got company…”

-------

Starscream looked nowhere near ready to back down, doubly infuriated by the chastisement by Skyfire, of all people, so when the communications terminal in the corner of the room chimed, it was only having Thundercracker sitting in the way that stopped him outright shooting it. He let loose a volley of inventive curses instead, stomping across the room and punching the accept call dialogue hard enough to break it in half. “What?”

The screen came online to reveal a single Autobot, sitting primly at his desk; Prowl. Nobody seemed willing to commit to a decision on whether the fact it was just Prowl was a good sign, or a very, very bad one.

Unfortunately, the Bot’s politely inscrutable half-smile made everyone fairly confident that Prowl himself wasn’t entirely sure that this conversation was going to be a good thing, either.

Starscream threw up his hands, and resumed pacing. “What do you want, Autobot.”

Almost anyone else would probably have stammered their way into an apology, but Prowl was far too habituated to the red Seeker’s histrionics, and didn’t so much as flicker. “Would you like to explain why Skywarp just came through the spacebridge?”

“No.” Starscream folded his arms and lifted his chin, just a little. “Was that everything? Because we’re quite busy here.”

“Allow me to rephrase, as you seem to think I’m giving you an option. Why did Skywarp just come through the spacebridge?”

“Changing the way you ask the question doesn’t change my answer.”

One brow came up. “Am I to assume he’s flying solo for some reason?”

“Assume what you like. I have far better things to be doing right now than stand here talking to the likes of you-”

“To what end, Starscream?” Seeing the blue palm descending onto one of the buttons, Prowl hastily added; “Do I have to come and confront you in person so you can’t switch me off?”

A microsecond away from ending the call, Starscream caught himself with his fingers hovering just above the broken control panel. “It’s none of your concern! We have precious little time as it is without you wasting it all for us-”

“Then explain why your wingmate has just flown back to your former base! Reassure me you aren’t about to follow him!”

“Just tell him, mech. Primus!” Thundercracker snarled, feebly, from underneath his icepack. “They’re meant to be our allies, now. And we need all the damn help we can get.”

Starscream gestured grandly at the terminal with a swoop of one arm. “There’s a difference between being an ally, and expecting to be privy to all our private trauma-!”

“It’s hardly private if they’ve already spotted him, is it. And I’m pretty sure we can trust Prowl not to let the entire Autobot army get themselves involved until we invite them to be.”

A flicker of blue and white in the periphery of his vision caught Starscream’s attention. He turned just in time to focus on Celerity as she stepped up close enough for their static fields to mesh uncomfortably together. Before he could react, the giant lifted a hand and firmly pressed a big finger to his lips; so startled by the unexpected invasion of his space, Starscream actually just complied.

“Please,” she said, faintly. “Keep them in the loop. Just this once. Just until we have our family back.”

Starscream backed out of range, visibly puffing up, wings flaring. “We don’t need-”

“We do need. Please. Even if it’s just for them to keep us informed. They’ve already proved they can see what’s going on better than we can.” Celerity drew in a long draught of cold air and folded her hands together, straining to keep her self-control squeezed between them. “If you let our tiny ones get hurt because you’re too proud to accept Autobot help…”

They were all looking at him, now.

“Fine! Fine.” Starscream jerked his arms folded across his chassis, huffily. “So long as Prowl gets to the point sometime this Vorn.”

Prowl’s expression flattened into an unimpressed glare. “I see why Thundercracker handles most of the calls to Earth, now,” he drawled. “Fine. Let me use short words. When an ex-Con arrives unannounced through the spacebridge, fails to respond to greeting hails or transmit his own, and flies directly towards the site of his former base, concerns are immediately raised. Even you should understand the rationale behind that.”

“You don’t seriously think he’s defected”

“It’s a reasonable assumption to make. He always was the most loyal of the three of you.”

Starscream’s optics tightened. “It’s funny that you notice Skywarp come through, within mere breems of him slipping away from our attention, but don’t notice three fully armed Coneheads making a return trip, with hostages.”

Prowl sat quietly for a while, his gaze slipping to one side to check a display screen just out of view. When he spoke again, it was with an anxious, measured quiet; “I’d not been made aware of that.”

“Well, consider it a favour. Perhaps Red should spend less time spying on us, and more time upholding your end of our agreement. Now perhaps you understand our urgency to figure out what to do?” Starscream resumed pacing.

Prowl let the professional mask slip, just a little, swallowing a sigh and resting his chin on his laced fingers. “What can we do to help?”

“Stay out of our way. We’ve already been pushed off-balance. I don’t need the added stress of wondering what a bunch of overzealous Autobots are going to leap in and do.”

“Slipstream is one of us, remember? He has plenty of friends here who’d be willing to help you if they knew he was in danger.”

“That’s the whole point.” Starscream ground the words out from between gritted teeth. “Warp may be renowned for his lack of brains but you’re not short on idiots either, over there. It’s halfway to the Pit already. It’ll turn into outright war if Prime’s Merry band of Morons decide to try and leap to the rescue.”

One eyebrow crept up, ever so slightly. “Well. I’ll do my best, but I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to keep our ‘merry morons’ from taking it upon themselves to defy you if they find out.”

“Fine. Whatever.” Starscream flapped his hands, exasperated. “Just… give me a heads-up when Warp starts back. If he starts back. I don’t know.”

“Of course. We’ll keep you informed if anything else meaningful happens.”

The instant the call ended, Starscream plonked down next to Pulsar on the couch, smarting, features compressed in a glare, almost bouncing her into him. The bike hastily scooted herself back into the furthest corner, leaning away but unwilling to relinquish her spot.

Starscream gave Thundercracker a loaded glance. “That icepack looks really good, right now.”

Thundercracker found a tiny smile from somewhere. “You can have my icepack when you prise it from my dead grey fingers.”

After much gentle cajoling from Celerity, the blue Seeker finally acquiesced and allowed himself to be led away to his room, to defragment and let the medical patch finally take.

...leaving just Starscream and Pulsar in the lounge. For almost a whole breem, they studiously ignored each other. The sour feeling of stressed electric fields saturated the entire building; even the potted maple had pulled in on itself, folding its leaves into staticky needles.

Finally – unexpectedly – Starscream broke the silence. “Sorry.”

Pulsar glanced up at him. “…what?”

The bigger mech rearranged his folded arms and glared off into a corner. “I don’t have a lot of people I consider friends, so it matters when they seem intent on inadvertently killing themselves. Taking it out on you was probably counterproductive.”

“Uhm, apology accepted.” She felt a little lost for words and for an instant nothing would come. She rebooted her vocaliser. “For the record, I don’t particularly like Skywarp’s idea.”

He snorted a curt laugh. “That wasn’t difficult to work out for myself. You didn’t even try to call it a plan, this time.” He finally glanced down at her. A little of the overt sneer had gone from his expression. “When we eventually get him back, you can punch him first,” he offered.

“That’s… rather generous of you.”

Starscream curled his lip. “There might not be much left worth punching if I get to him before you do.”

She smiled back, although her denta showed through a fraction and it looked somewhat like a snarl. “You’re assuming there’s going to be much left when I’m done with him. I’m pretty persistent, for a small bot.”

“Touché,” he accepted. “Let’s just hope we get him back in one piece, then. It’ll be very unsatisfying so find someone walloped him first.”

The silence drew out between them.

“I have to kill him,” Starscream said, quietly. “Megatron. And I’m not sure how.” He studied his fingers. “You’d think all those millions of vorns of failure would have given me a few ideas on what might not be a total disaster.” When Pulsar didn’t reply, he found a sour smile. “Still surprises me a little when I’m seriously discussing killing someone, and even a committed pacifist Autobot doesn’t argue about it.”

Pulsar looked back, unflinching. “Surprises me a little that we’re discussing the only way to stop the greatest threat our world has ever seen, and you think I’ll argue against it.”

-------

Megatron heard them approaching long before the origin of the infernal noise appeared in his throne room. He settled more comfortably in his seat to watch as his loyalists half-marched half-carried their new prisoner through the doorway.

The teleport was definitely making them work for their prize – fractionally smaller than the warlord remembered, with lighter armour and a sleeker build, but no less spirited, and definitely no less violent. It took four mechs to control him; everyone was equally covered in black and purple scuffs of paint already.

For almost half a breem, Megatron just studied their new prisoner, chin propped on one hand.

Skywarp glared back, optics blazing, no hint of fear in his bearing. He glowed with the faint purple nimbus of personal shields, making him difficult to keep a good grip on – almost slippery. His cuffed wrists kept his arms pinned at his sides, but he leaned forwards in the restraining hands, like a prizewinning terrier waiting to be released into a dogfight.

A few vorns of being allowed to fly solo had filled the mech with undeserved confidence. It was obviously going to be necessary to remind him why anyone with half a brain still feared him.

Of course, Megatron noted, not everyone in the room actually possessed half a brain.

Finally the old warmech straightened, drawing himself up to loom more effectively over the small assembly. “Skywarp. Good to finally see you again,” he drawled. “Rumours of your untimely death were obviously somewhat exaggerated.”

Skywarp wasn’t interested in pleasantries. “Where are they?”

Megatron shrugged one shoulder. “Somewhere safe. While I decide what to do with them. What value they may provide. Although I won’t make the same mistake of allowing them to live, seeing what a noble little Autobot you allowed your offspring to turn into.”

Skywarp made a strangled little noise of fury and struggled briefly in the retraining hands, almost succeeding at jerking himself free.

Thrust kicked him in the back of one leg and took him heavily down to his knees. A little ripple of jeers followed him down.

“And where is your pathetic excuse for a wingleader, I wonder. Trying to sneak up on us with force, no doubt. With his, ah.” Megatron chuckled. “Army.

Skywarp glowered up at him, darkly. “I punched him in the head and locked him in a box because I didn’t trust him not to come after you, Megatron. He’s a liability.”

The warlord actually laughed out loud at that. “I would be more inclined to say you coming here on your own was the liability. Now I only have to wait for two more idiots to come and join the party.”

“You better hope they don’t come here. I came alone to give you the opportunity to end this peacefully, Megatron.” Skywarp used his best ‘official’ voice. “You know who we are. You know what we can do. Release my family, and it won’t go any further.”

“I remember a bunch of cowardly, poorly-organised thugs who couldn’t have co-ordinated their way out of a wet paper sack if you gave them directions.” The warlord smirked. “Yes, Skywarp, I know you very well. And I don’t think I’ll be running from you in terror just yet.” He leaned down, just close enough for the trapped Seeker to hear the low throb of the big generators in his broad chassis. “Perhaps I need to remind you why you all followed me so loyally for all those vorns…”

[tfppainter]

Soo I hace decided that I should make a Au!

in episode “Heavy metal” Un witch vince and jack where racing but ofcouse jack was help by Bumblebee but... There is a moment where Knockout comes and kidnaps vince, vince was not saved in time by the Autobots and knockout got away intaducing vince to the Decepticon Couse only to know that this human was not one of Bumblebee fellow human friends but he could give information and knowledge... And soon the decepticons grew quite a soft spot for the little human dare devil and once and a while he gets to go to visit energon mines or watch some fights. But the shocking thing was when he found about jack, miko and Rafael! They new as well and where With the so called Autobots he was surprise ofcouse.

Sins he thought he was the only One who new but didn't dare he keep his profile low so he doesn't get spoted and vince had declare that the decepticons where his family because he never really expirience family love and the decepticons had given him just that and his broken heart began to heal slowly but surely. 😭👍

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And he was taken by the Autobots in season 2

he would be taken by the Autobots to be keep as a guest intile vince gives them the information they Need on what the decepticons are planning to do, Buuut vince being vince he would never and keep his mouth sealed intile arcee has enough and one Day this happed-

Cee: you are going TO GIVE IS THE INFORMATION WHEATER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT!!

Op: arcee enough

Cee: but Optimus!?

Op: enough

Cee: -sighs- Yes sir

And like a said vince would till be silent even if they try pleading or trying to get on his good side but nothing would really work, every one in the Autobot base has enough or wanted to strangle his but windvolt (one of my Oc) keep it clear.

Wv: vince has been With the decepticons for along time. So I highly dought he would be willing to tell us even of we try he won't tell us he us loyal or form some sort of bond With the decepticons.

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And in one of the episodes the decepticons are Victorious on getting vince back to the nemesis and the decepticons became overol protective not in a clingy way in a sibling way ( like a brother protecting his siblings) they where happy and so was vince When he was final home where his family has been waiting for him!

This AU is called= finaly home Au!

I hope you all like this Au because this idea just "POP" out of my head and I quite like this for no reason 🥲👍

[3friesshortofahappymeal]

Quick rundown:

Dousy/AOS - Fantasy AU

Begins like a D&D campaign. Potential for multichapter/disconnected scenes.

Astro Ambassadors meet the Hex Trio

Daisy, Daniel, and Kora meet Monica, Jimmy, and Darcy. A certain oc "mascot" makes an appearance.

Captain Swan - Neverland One Shot

A song can soothe even the harshest nightmares. Fluffy AF

Captain Swan - Multichapter based on an insane Tumblr prompt

Eccentric millionaire hires mourners for his funeral. The typical mysterious veiled woman silently weeping from a distance. An arch nemesis growling out "i should have been the one to kill you," over the coffin. Usually only or two are needed to cause a scene. Somehow the gang's all here and there's mystery afoot.

AOS Shenanigans

I've been messing around with this one for awhile and it's never felt quite right. Mack and Yo-yo are getting married. But there's a strange SHIELD tradition - The Worst Man and The Maid of Dishonor

Cal Kestis and Merrin found family

Merrin fucks with Greez as usual. Cal goes along as usual. The newest member of the Mantis crew catches on quick.

[dhiabackflips03]

Idk what else to post but uhh, here my Silent Nemesis Family Au (I dont have a name for them but whatcerrr. Ignore why Joe looked like hes dead)

I hate this so much wtf. But uhh whatver, heres long story short for all of them.

Thomas Flyswatter is known for the father of two sons, he is now currently at around 53 years old (IDK). He is gay (casual😭)

Gradient Joe is known for their mom, he's 49 years old. He's trans and pansexual, yet he's fine with people still using He/Him pronouns on him (also he got that femal organ below him). So thats why both of their sons in thid fucking damn world.

Their oldest son, Insectkiller Roit (or just Roit) is 18 years old now. He's a casual male who is Aroace (also an only son who doesn't have either bitches or lads). He is mature and can be rude when it comes to his younger brother (only when Rowan started it). [He's the another flyswatter with gradient black on the top right on their point of view and also a small bandage on his left side of cheek]

Lastly, the youngest child, Rowan Incline. He's only at 15, he's Bisexual and Grey Sexual. He is already taken by his Non-binary boyfriend (which my moot is the one who made him). Also he uses either He/Him pronouns or Zir/Zes pronouns, prefer to use He/Him. [He's the other dark blue gradient head with weirdly shaped eyes and a toxic/radioactive (idk) logo on his shirt, he also have a darker skin and some bruise like shit]

[gyuphorias]

dean's list | y. jeongin

synopsis — you've spent almost your entire life hating yang jeongin. in middle school, he left you crying at the front gates for getting the best score on an exam. with crushed dignity, you declared him your arch nemesis and worked your ass off to beat him in academics. with college finally here, you thought you'd be free of him, but out of coincidence or spite, he's attending the same university and running in the same friend group. with him going out of his way to make your life a living hell, it's almost comedic that you find heaven in the form of his body.

genre — college au, academic rivals to lovers au, enemies to lovers au, smut (minors do not interact)

pairing — college student, frat boy!jeongin/fem, college student!reader

warnings — academic competition, mentions of academic burn out, alcohol consumption, language, sexual themes (dom!jeongin, voyerism, mirror kink, begging, cum play, degradation, finger sucking, oral sex: female receiving, light choking, unprotected sex)

word count — 8.7k

you hated yang jeongin.

maybe hate was a strong word, but your feelings for the boy were something akin to it at the very least. everything about him pissed you off; even the simplest fleeting thought of him angered you. seeing him on campus and in class left you reeling with rage, seething at the idea that of course, after years of sharing academics, your mortal enemy would choose to go to the same university as you, choose the same major, pick the same classes.

and it wasn’t like your loathing wasn’t returned by the boy. almost secondary to your decades of academic rivalry was your competition on who despised the other most. in middle school, jeongin had picked a fight with you because for the first time in almost three months, you’d scored higher on an exam than he had; he’d stopped you after school before you could even step foot out of the front gates, got in your face about how he’d always hated you, and, at thirteen years old, declared you his mortal enemy, as if you’d murdered his entire family and were preparing yourself to obtain world domination or something along the same lines.

to you, up until then, the rivalry you’d shared with yang jeongin had been all in good fun, just two incredibly intelligent students working hard at academics and trading the first and second spots in the class ranking. to you, up until then, you’d been having fun studying as hard as you could and anticipating exam results, excited to see if you’d swapped with the boy. to you, up until then, it had been a gentle motivator to keep you on track and engaged in your academics.

but he’d embarrassed you, hurt your pride and dignity as he yelled at you in front of your schoolmates for taking the top score, his top score. when he’d finally finished, a smug smile on his face and looking proud of himself for causing visible distress in your features, he left you crying silently, face burning and hands shaking. your friends at the time had come to your aid, small comforting hands rubbing stripes down your blazer-covered arms and glaring angrily after him, spitting sharp words of malice.

from that point on, it was a serious rivalry, one that was tangible and carried real weight with it. the whole school, including teachers, knew about it within days of jeongin’s one-sided yelling match and everybody was left reeling in the effects of it. come exam season that first year, tensions were so heavy that they were practically crushing the student body, including the two of you embroiled in that almost deadly competition, and yet despite that, you’d heard the whispers about betting pools going around: who would get the top spot in the class rank? you or jeongin? from what your friends had been told by others, most students were betting on jeongin because he’d had a longer streak of getting the highest grades.

that, unsurprisingly, had pissed you off beyond belief. not only had he gone out of his way to personally destroy your dignity, but now you were being faced with the trickle-down effects of his less than polite actions. only a small handful of your fellow classmates supported your potential to beat him out for the top spot. with your friends as your witnesses, you’d sworn then and there that the highest grades were going to be yours that exam season.

the second you’d gotten home, you put together an intensive revision schedule, hardly even allowing yourself time to do anything other than study. your parents, hard as they were on you about academics, tried to tell you that taking time for yourself and focusing on things outside of school were important, but you didn’t listen, couldn’t listen, not when your reputation at school was riding on it.

so you axed anything that would distract you from studying. you didn’t watch television or movies, you kept away from books, you locked every app on your phone that wasn’t conducive to your productivity or important in some way. you lost hours of sleep and vital nutrition, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. you didn’t even care after, when you were on the very brink of exhaustion, because it had all paid off. you’d gotten the highest grades of the season and even though you’d worked yourself to death, looking over to jeongin and seeing the visceral anger on his face, his ever-sharpening jaw grinding, his skin going taut against bone, and his eyes and eyebrows narrowing. you were treading dangerous waters, but it didn’t matter when he had publicly embarrassed you in front of everyone. what was a little bit of revenge?

and that’s how things continued for the rest of your secondary school careers: you and jeongin vying for the top rank in school, the exhilarating rush when you bumped him out of first place, the smugness you felt when he’d glare you down in class and in the halls. by the time for you to graduate and go off to university rolled around, you’d secured yourself as the final top student of the class, leaving with the highest honors and enrollment at one of the most prestigious colleges in the country.

for years, you’d looked to graduation as your escape from yang jeongin. for years, he had terrorized you and your dignity, pride, and reputation. for years, you had longed to be free of him and what he symbolized in your life.

with that escape right around the corner, just out of reach but quickly approaching, freedom had never felt so good. for the first time in a long time, you no longer felt pressured to do well in academics and you didn’t feel guilty going to bed before three in the morning. you could breathe easily when doing things other than studying, things you enjoyed and things that helped you relax after a long day. university would be a whole new world for you, but you wouldn’t be competing for a top rank the way you had been for almost your entire life.

at least, that’s what you thought until jeongin announced that not only had he been admitted into the same university as you, but that he’d be majoring in the same field as you. just when you thought you’d finally escaped the clutches of devil incarnate yang jeongin, he’d waltzed in to continue to fuck your life up for four more years.

and fuck up your life, he did, even if not necessarily on purpose. whether by complete coincidence or genuine spite, he was in every single one of your classes, save for a select few (thank you, introduction to visual arts and chemistry one), leaving you to deal with him every single day for hours at a time. the classes you shared together, he took pride in antagonizing you, keeping it so subtle and lowkey that nobody noticed it: going out of his way to sit next to you so he could annoy you during class, making snide remarks to you on campus, purposely asking what you’d scored on an exam or essay when he knew that he’d received higher marks.

to say you were livid was the understatement of the year. truly, you swore you’d never been so angry before. you were glad, then, to find respite in your new best friend, felix, who had beat jeongin to the seat next to you in world masterpieces one day. he’d remarked that you seemed tense and upset when the other boy sat next to you and took it upon himself to ensure that you no longer had to deal with him, at least for one lecture. when the person in question realized that his self-assigned seat had been taken, he’d seemed genuinely angry and when you made eye contact and simply smiled, your eyes narrowed dangerously, he’d seemed furious as he made his way to the other side of the lecture hall.

world masterpieces, for once, was enjoyable. from that day forward, felix had made a point of meeting with you before class so you could walk together and find seats together in the lecture hall. you’d always sit at the end of the back row and felix would take the seat next to you, leaving no other open seat except beside him and in front of you — neither was a very good seat to bother you from, so jeongin stayed away, as much as he simmered in anger at having his in-class entertainment taken away. and things continued like that for the rest of your first semester of university: any classes felix shared with you, he made sure he was there as a buffer to keep jeongin off your back.

presently, just a few weeks into your second semester of your first year, felix is lounging in your bed, flipping through one of your textbooks as you rifle through the tiny closet in your dorm. with as much as he’s over, you’re glad you got a double room all to yourself; not having a roommate to explain yourself to makes it a whole lot easier to let him come over whenever he wants, even though you aren’t fucking.

“why do you even want to go to this party anyways?” felix questions, glancing up at you as you slip into your nth outfit combination of the evening. “you know he who shall not be named is going to be there, right?”

one of the fraternities on campus is throwing a party tonight at their house and said fraternity is the home of several of felix’s friends. you’ve met them a few times and they’ve always been nothing but kind to you; chan, the president of the fraternity, is likely your favorite (next to felix, of course), always going out of his way to be a gentleman and, in turn, saving you the best drinks and jello shots when his frat threw a party.

unfortunately for you, jeongin also runs in this circle of friends, having latched on to minho and somehow charmed the rest of them into liking him enough to keep him around and let him into the damn chapter, which means, by chapter rule, he has to be at these parties for fear of being reprimanded or kicked out. felix has sworn up and down the wall that he never spends any time with the boy and doesn’t really like him all that much, but you have your suspicions because felix, as much as he may deny it, is a complete people pleaser and wants everyone to like him (you’ve told him it doesn’t really bother you as long as he doesn’t bring it up, but he gets defensive about it, swearing his undying loyalty on team y/n).

you shrug in response to his question, turning to look at yourself in the mirror from all angles. “i know, but you’ll be there, too… and so will chan. i trust the two of you to keep me away from him or protect me if he decides to try something.” you turn towards him, gesturing at yourself. “yes or no?”

felix looks at you again, this time wearily; he knows that when jeongin is involved, you get competitive and though it might have flown easily high school when it was just academics, now it involves everything else and that doesn’t make for smooth sailing. the boxed bleach blond gives you a once over and nods his head. “i think it might be the best yet.”

it’s the honest truth because felix would never lie to you and while he’s excited to party with you, there’s a small piece of him that just wishes you’d see reason and stay home, watch a movie, go out to get food or something. jeongin drives you to your absolute limit and then some, and if he’s on his bullshit like he usually is, felix knows he’s going to end up being the one to take care of you in the morning when you’re hungover and practically incapacitated. the way you turn to look at yourself in the mirror and smile, though, is enough to make him sigh and go back to skimming the textbook of yours he’d nicked from your desk.

“okay, awesome,” you say, giving yourself another spin to admire your outfit. “i’ll wear this then. thanks for your help, lix!”

hours later, you find yourself in the basement of the frat house, felix on one side of you and chan in front of you. the music is horribly loud and the press of bodies around you is suffocating and hot, but you don’t really care. you can’t really care when your best friend’s arm is slung around your shoulders and chan is scooting ever closer, trying to give room for people to pass behind him. someone off behind the bar calls felix’s name, likely jisung, and he looks over at you, almost as if asking for permission to leave your side for a few moments; he doesn’t like the idea of leaving you unguarded, but you nod and tell (nay, practically shout) at him to go ahead.

as he slips away from you into the crowd, chan takes his place. he smiles down at you, his signature big, toothy grin, and you can’t help but smile back because it’s contagious the way he looks at you like that. it’s dark and the only light comes from the strobes positioned by the dj booth, but chan somehow still manages to look absolutely mesmerizing in the flashing green and purple lighting. you converse a bit, leaning in close to hear one another over the music, about anything you can possibly think of; he asks how classes are going (though this is entirely against party etiquette because the entire reason of coming to a party to get drunk is to forget about school, but you let it slide because he’s cute) and you ask him how he’s settling into his new life as the fraternity’s president.

“oh,” he says, though it seems to be mostly to himself. “you finished your drink!”

you look down at the red solo cup in your hand, noticing the distinct lack of alcohol in the top cup, having stacked the drinks you’ve had so far to keep track (four and counting). “it seems i have!”

“you want me to go get you another one?” he questions, dark puppy dog eyes sparkling down at you. he seems almost genuinely concerned that you’ve finished your drink and it makes you want to giggle, so you do. as you go to answer, he makes the decision for you. “actually, take my cup. it’s still full. i’ll go and get myself another drink.”

your fingers brush when he passes the plastic cup to you and maybe it’s just the alcohol, but the contact feels something akin to electric. you stare up at him, wide eyed and waiting — for what you don’t know.

“wait right here for me?” he asks, puppy dog eyes back on you and you swear you’ve never wanted to kiss someone so bad in your entire life.

“yeah, okay,” you say, even though you’re immediately kicking yourself because you want him to stay with you. he smiles down at you again and you watch as he disappears into the darkness and the crowd, wishing he’d just taken you with him or asked one of his friends to bring him another drink.

however, you stay still, awaiting his and felix’s return dutifully, sipping from your fifth cup of the night and doing your best not to look out of place, though it likely doesn’t matter because nobody’s really paying attention to you anyways. at least they aren’t until someone bumps into you, spilling their drink all down your shirt, but even then, it’s only the immediate people around you and it doesn’t keep their attention for long before they’re turning back to friends or lovers or their choice lay of the night.

you, on the other hand, are drunkenly rounding on the asshole who ruined your outfit. “what the fuck is wrong with you? you’re not even gonna apologize?”

but it’s a moot question because in the strobe lights of this stupid, gross frat house basement, you come face to face with yang jeongin. suddenly, you’re wishing you were a few drinks deeper because as gone as you might be now, you’re not gone far enough to deal with him. of course he’s not going to apologize because he lives to make your life as terrible as he possibly can.

there’s that smug grin on his face, equal parts enraging and tantalizing, and his dark, brushstroke eyes glimmer differently than the way chan’s do.

“oops,” he says, voice light and airy. he sounds the way a cat looks when you catch it doing something it’s not supposed to. “my bad.”

“yeah, your bad, yang,” you say angrily, brushing rivulets of alcohol from your skin. it’s leaving red stains in its wake and you don’t really appreciate it. “get out of my way.”

“what if i don’t want to?” he questions and you want to beat the shit out of him right here, right now. you don’t care who’s watching, you don’t care if it’ll get you blacklisted from this frat house. he’s being an asshole and you’re not going to stand for it.

“i’m not even gonna bother asking you nicely again,” you say, glaring up at him and resisting the urge to lay hands on him. “get the fuck out of my way.”

you don’t even let him get another word out before you’re shoving past him, trying to let the crowd swallow you whole as you make your way towards the stairs at the far end of the room. they take you upstairs and, with the permission of one of the other frat boys, the second staircase takes you to the top floor where the bedrooms are. it’s infinitely cooler up here and quieter; your ears ring with the sudden change in volume, but you’re thankful for it because you can finally hear yourself think.

you’re significantly more sober than you were ten minutes ago, at least mentally. you still stumble and your head is still swimming, your mind trying desperately to keep in time with your body’s movements, but you know you need to get to the bathroom.

i need to wash up what i can, you think to yourself, moving in the direction of the bathroom door. let felix know what happened… oh fuck… what about chan?

in your anger, hazed by alcohol, you’d totally forgotten about chan. was he back from the bar now, wondering where you were? why you’d suddenly disappeared? was jeongin explaining what happened?

as you’re fumbling with the doorknob, someone sidles up behind you and opens the door for you, clearly far sober than you claim to be. the warmth of their body against your back is comforting and you revel in it for as long as you can before you step into the dim bathroom, lit singularly by an led lamp.

“not gonna thank me?”

jeongin, it seems, is not in the basement explaining your sudden departure to his friend and fellow frat brother. no, instead, he’s followed you up here to antagonize you further. you stop in your tracks, eyes closed and arms braced on the counter, trying to brace yourself for however this encounter’s going to end up.

“no. why would i?”

his shoes click against the tiled floor and the door closes behind him. “well, for one, i helped you get in here when you were clearly struggling. i think that warrants a little bit of gratitude.”

“you spilled your fucking drink on me, which i’m willing to guess was on purpose. otherwise, i wouldn’t need to be up here and i wouldn’t have needed anyone’s help because i wouldn’t be in this situation.”

you round on him for the second time tonight, though this time, you’re a lot closer than you expected to be. jeongin stands a few inches away, but he’s bent over at the waist, coming close to leveling himself with you. his face is so close to yours, in fact, that you can feel the heat of his breath on your skin and you can smell the alcohol on it. just a few centimeters and your noses would brush.

“but i helped you nonetheless,” he says, not even acknowledging the proximity of your faces. “come on, what happened to your manners, huh?”

“you’ve never deserved any of my manners,” you quip back, backing yourself against the counter, cold stone pressing into the small of your back. if you were stupid, any drunker than you are now, you’d think he’d done all this on purpose: spill his drink on you, get you alone, fluster you with flirting. “again, you spilled your drink on me and again, i’d seriously venture to say that it was on purpose.”

“and if it was?”

in the near blinding sunset orange of the lamp, you swear jeongin looks almost… beautiful. hell, you might even go as far as saying he looks ethereal with dark, cat like eyes and sharp features with smooth, soft skin. you’ve never seen him up close and personal like this before; at least, not since he’d matured and really grown into himself.

you find a part of you that wants to kiss him, what with him leaning so close to you and all. so you do.

jeongin doesn’t even seem surprised by your action, more like he was expecting it, like this was his endgame all along. even if it was, you can’t bring yourself to care because you’ve never been kissed so good in your entire life — not that you’ve been kissed much. his lips are smooth, unmarred by cracks and rough skin, and his mouth is hot against yours. he tastes mostly of alcohol, but you also catch the faintness of something cool and minty, which is all you could have possibly hoped for. he nips at your bottom lip, getting just enough of a reaction out of you to slide his tongue into your mouth and letting you reciprocate.

without even thinking about it, you instinctively wind your arms around his neck, one of your hands slotting carefully into his hair, which is way softer than you’d ever expected it to be. his own hands, unwavering and searing hot, rest on the small of your back, pressing you into his body like he can’t get you close enough. he kisses you with carefully practiced expertise and you wonder where he learned to kiss like this between all the studying and sports and extracurriculars; not that any of that matters because what it boils down to is he’s a great kisser and his tongue is all but down your throat, taking your breath away.

when you finally retreat for a quick respite, jeongin chases after your lips, equally as breathless as you are and reduced to nothing but a sensitive shell of your academic enemy. his nose nudges against your own and his fingers curl into the base of your spine in an effort to get you back to him, and you can’t find it in yourself to deny him, so you kiss him again, but shortly.

you pull away a second time, but only enough to say “i still fucking hate you” before you pull him back in, fingers tugging at the hair at the base of his neck.

this kiss is hotter than the last and you get lost in it all so easily, somehow forgetting your real, genuine decade of hating jeongin with every fiber of your being simply because he’s kissing you like you’ve never been kissed before, the only way you’ll ever want to be kissed again. so caught up in the heat of his mouth, you almost miss the way his hands slide from your back to your ass, squeezing at the flesh there.

he’s the one to pull away this time, muttering a quick “jump.” you do and he seats you on the edge of the counter, lips brushing against yours. “if you hate me so much, why are you all over me then? huh? doesn’t make any sense.”

you practically whine, trying to pull him back into you. “kiss me again. please.” it’s almost a fucking whimper and you’ve never felt so debauched before.

jeongin laughs darkly and, in contrast, sweetly indulges you, kisses you once, twice, three times, each with more sensuality and heat than the last before he’s pulling away, trailing his hands from your back to your thighs, pawing at the plush expanse of them. his fingers dig into the fabric of your jeans and you’re suddenly acutely aware of the fact that only a thin layer of textile separates his palms from the skin of your legs.

you’re suddenly acutely aware that you don’t mind that fact. on the contrary, you want the heat and feel of his hands against your skin; you can feel them through your clothes, but it’s not the same and it doesn’t even compare.

so you do the only thing you can think of: you pull him in for another kiss. this time, though, your hands slide from his shoulders over his chest to the elastic hem of his hoodie emblazoned with the university seal. your fingers, still feeling light and not entirely your own, curl tightly into it and tug, rousing jeongin from whatever alcohol induced haze you’re sharing with him. you feel him smirk against your mouth as he mimics your steps, letting his hands dip underneath the sweater you’re wearing, and finally, you’re met with the feeling of his skin against yours. his fingers splay across your stomach, his palms scorching against your skin.

it’s a divine kind of bliss, you think as you tug at his sweater’s hem once again in an attempt to rid him of it, to be burned by him like this when he’s spent so much time burning you in other, less physical ways. you have so many years under your belt of his intentional, meticulous antagonization, leaving you angry with him and all the anguish you’ve gone through because of him, so this should feel wrong, off limits, but it doesn’t. maybe there’s a small part of you that hopes your relationship changes after this, at least a little bit. now that you’ve had a taste of him and experienced the unbridled physical heat of him, you don’t know if you can go back to hating him the way you have.

finally, finally, something gives and jeongin pulls away to pull his hoodie over his head and it doesn’t take any coaxing from you to convince him to take off the plain white shirt he’s wearing underneath it. no, he looks you dead in the eyes before he’s pulling it off too and you’re met with the soft, smooth, warm expanse of this part of him. he’s slim, which you’ve known, and he’s toned, which you’re learning about for the first time, but even so, every dip of him, every curve looks soft and gentle. you can’t stop yourself from reaching a hand out to touch him, drunkenly mesmerized by just how beautiful jeongin really is.

“well, come on, pretty girl,” he says once he’s finished peeling his shirt off and thrown it to the floor. when you look at him a little confused, his dark eyes roll and he smiles a bit, letting his hands tug at your sweater. “it’s only fair.”

you let him, maybe too easily, pull the knit thing up and over, leaving your hair a little mussed and staticy, and you feel a little self-conscious about the situation now. he doesn’t seem to mind, though, as he leans back in to kiss you and coax you out of the shirt you’d worn underneath your sweater. his hands are hot on your cheeks as he all but pulls you into him; suddenly, you don’t really care all that much anymore. he pants lightly into your mouth, chasing your lips when you pull away to take off your shirt and you swear it looks like his world stops when he hears the soft shuffle of your shirt when it drops to the floor next to him.

his eyes open then and he takes all of you in that you’ve been gracious enough to reveal to him, and as much as you expect him to go back to selfishly taking your breath away, you can’t say you’re too surprised when his mouth finds the underside of your jaw, the side of your neck, your collarbone, the skin just above the smooth hem of your bra. you can’t even be mad that somewhere along the way, he’s left darkening hickeys and other marks in his wake because he’s working almost expertly at you, hitting all of the right buttons as his breath fans hot and wet against your skin, his fingers working deftly to get your bra off.

“damn,” he mutters to himself once he’s finally slid the offending garment off of you.

in an effort to play coy, you smile and lean back a little, letting him get a full look at you. “like what you see?”

you can tell it takes everything in him not to laugh at you for such a cliche line because you’re trying not to laugh either, but he recovers quicker than you expected him to. he straightens up, leans in, continues his winding, teasing trail of kisses and bites across your chest before he answers. “you might be a lot prettier than i give you credit for.”

he doesn’t give you a chance to even think about replying before his lips, slick with spit, close around one of your nipples. his tongue works over it, your skin pebbling up under his careful attention. in rhythm with himself, one of his hands comes up and his fingers pinch and roll the nipple that isn’t in his mouth. it’s such a minuscule pleasure that he’s offered you and still, you’re melting against him, knees knocking against his hips, back arching to get more of him on you, and your fingers curling desperately against his shoulders, his spine, his neck, anywhere you can reach. when he switches sides, it’s equally as devastating and as it draws a gasp out of you, you tug on his hair and he groans, which only makes you repeat the process.

“fuck, how are you so good at this?” you say when he finally moves on, dragging his lips down the rest of your chest and then across your stomach. he’s still leaving traces of himself on your skin in the form of bites and hickeys, and you’re losing yourself in the feeling of it all.

“just because i was studying my ass off doesn’t mean i wasn’t doing other things too, y’know?” the way jeongin says it sounds so condescending, like he knows that you weren’t doing other things over those years, but when he stands back to his full height and comes nose to nose with you, his hands sliding from your thighs to your belt loops, it doesn’t matter so much anymore because it doesn’t seem like he’s judging you at all. his fingers pluck aimlessly at your belt loops as he looks at you. “wanna keep going?”

the relief that floods through you when he asks is honestly astounding and it takes all of your willpower to not come off as too eager. he’s kissed you too hot and left too many marks littered across your skin to stop now, not when you can feel the way your panties are sticking to you. you whimper a small yes and pull him in by his cheeks to kiss him, letting him handle you however he pleases, too lost in the feel of him to give too much thought to it.

he slides you gently off the counter and starts working at getting your jeans off your body. once he’s got the button popped open and the zipper down, he helps you slip out of them as his kisses move down your body once again. this time, though, he has access to the expanse of your skin underneath the pants and he’s making the most of it all. he presses two of his fingers to your underwear, smiling deviously when he feels it.

“yeah? you hate me, hm?”

you want to feel embarrassed, to melt right into the floor, but instead you mewl at him, already going weak in the knees. fuck, he hasn’t even done anything yet and he’s got you ready to cry out for something, anything. your hips try to press down against his fingers, to get some sort of friction, but, in typical yang jeongin fashion, he laughs at you and pulls his hand away entirely. there’s something dark in the way he looks at you, completely different from any other look he’s ever given you before and… you don’t hate it. rather, it sends anticipatory shivers through your body, raising goosebumps along your arms.

“please, jeongin,” you say, bracing yourself against the counter. you just want him to touch you so badly; you’ve never needed someone to touch you this much before and it’s absolutely burning you from the inside out, leaving you a shell of the girl who thought she was going home with the fraternity president up until maybe fifteen minutes ago.

“looks like i need to teach you how to have a little patience,” he says, which definitely hints at this not being a one-time thing (you hope… desperately). still, his fingers slip under the hem of your panties and pull them down in one fluid motion, his eyes trained on the dark wet patch you’ve left behind, a damning piece of evidence of your arousal. and for the first time ever, yang jeongin kneels on the floor before you, that dangerous glint still in his eyes as he looks up at you, embodying some heavenly ascension and your downfall all at once. it’s a beautiful sight.

once again, he grants you no reprieve, not a single fraction of a second to anticipate his next move or to think of something to say. no, like just mere minutes ago, his mouth finds you in your most intimate places and your knees almost buckle. his lips are hot against your clit and his tongue feels like heaven as he makes a show of licking up as much of your slick as he can. when he pulls away, you can see your wetness on his chin and lips, and when he makes a show of cleaning that off himself, of diving back in with some animalistic fervor, you just about fucking die because there’s no way your mortal enemy of years is eating you out.

one of his hands comes to rest on the back of your thigh while the other moves up, up, up still until his fingers are prodding at your lips. without even a second thought, you open your mouth and let them in, sliding your tongue over his spindly, boney digits. when you realize he’s looking up at you, his mouth still sucking harshly at your clit, you moan, any form of coherent thought entirely cast out of your head.

he shouldn’t be this hot, his fingers dripping with your spit as he brings them back down to his level, but he is and it’s absolutely ruinous. he pulls away from your pussy a second time, chin and lips still coated with your slick. as his spit-soaked fingers trail agonizingly slow, feather light from your clit to your entrance, you keen, your knuckles going tight as your fingers curl into the edge of the counter, looking for something to hold onto. you’re grateful for this because when he finally sinks his fingers into you, stretching you just enough, your knees genuinely almost give out and it shows. oh, it shows.

“barely even done anything,” he says, voice dripping with noncommittal condescension. “barely given you anything and you’re still trembling. who knew you’d be such a needy little whore, huh?”

the name comes from him like it’s absolutely nothing, a regular part of his vocabulary and you want to reprimand him for it, to tell him not to call you names like that. he knows, though, that you like it because you clench desperately around his fingers. denying his accusation would be useless because he’s got the proof to throw right back in your face. he’d do it too, get off on the fact that he’s got you wrapped so tightly around his finger right now that you’re a mess for him so easily. so you nod, trying fruitlessly to get him to move.

“yeah?” he says, almost mocking your whimpers and laughing when you nod again immediately, seeking his approval. “i want you to say it out loud. if you can even do that much, seeing as you’re already going dumb from so little… are you a needy… little… whore?”

he punctuates every drawn out word of your new title with a thrust, finally giving you what you’ve been craving so desperately. you almost sob, but you’ve still got a bit of dignity left so you do your best to bite it back, trying to steel yourself and level your voice.

“yes!” you answer and even though it doesn’t come out with a sob, it sounds more along the lines of a whimper, which you know will drive his ego up even higher. you don’t care, can’t care, not when he’s got two fingers buried in your pussy and expertly seeking out the spot inside you that makes you see stars. “god, yes. please, please, jeongin!”

“there it is.”

he finally grants you more of the friction you need, letting you roll your hips against his touch. his fingers thrust in and out of you, curling easily to press against that elusive spot, and eventually, he bows his head in to start working at your clit again, nipping and sucking. he chuckles into you when you moan or whimper, and his free hand keeps your hips pinned back against the cabinet. every little thing he does has your eyes rolling into the back of your head and your thighs, shaking violently, threatening to close around jeongin’s head. one particularly strong thrust, timed perfectly with his tongue playing with your clit, has you on the absolute verge.

“fuck,” you keen loudly, suddenly incredibly glad that the party is two floors away and nobody is up here to hear you moan brokenly. “jeongin, i- fuck, i’m gonna come.”

he pulls his mouth away from your pussy, leaving you to whine at the loss of his heat. his fingers press a little bit deeper, a little harsher into your cunt, making up the difference. “then come.”

it sounds like a demand, an order, and who are you to deny him? especially when he’s been fingering you like nobody’s ever fingered you before and given you the best head of your entire life? especially when he’s kneeling between your legs looking so fucking ethereal and unreal? so you do, letting your orgasm rip through you, your pussy clenching around his fingers and your throat letting out the most debauched, pornographic moans you’ve ever heard, all while jeongin watches from between your legs, seemingly proud of his work.

“good fucking girl,” he says when he finally pulls his fingers from your cunt. they’re absolutely covered in your cum and he makes a spectacle out of slipping his digits into his mouth, sucking them clean and tasting you once again. “taste so good. wanna try?”

his clean hand grips your jaw and pulls your lips to his. you let his tongue slip into your mouth without him even having to ask and you can taste yourself on him. the moan you let into his mouth is so airy and debased that it doesn’t even sound like you.

when he pulls away, there’s the biggest grin on his face. the loss of his warmth leaves you reeling once again, desperate to have him on you in whatever way you can, but you realize that his hands are working at getting his pants down and all is okay. you help him with the belt and the button, and when he shimmies out of his jeans, you can see the dark wet patch on his boxers. some part of you wants to make a joke about it like he’d done to you earlier, but you hold back on it out of fear for what he will (or won’t) do. instead, you watch intently as he pulls down his underwear and his cock, the tip red and smeared with precum, is released.

your mouth waters and you feel proud that you’d been the cause.

entranced, you don’t even put up a fight when jeongin’s hands find their way to your hips and turn you around, bending you over the counter. you can see him in the mirror behind you, head tipping back when he sees the way you’re dripping down your thighs.

“you’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?”

it’s rhetorical, but you start to laugh anyways when he slides his cock into you without warning, breaking your giggle suddenly. he fills you so nicely and you can’t help the way you moan at the feeling of being stuffed so well. when you’d see his dick just moments ago, it was big, but you could never have accounted for just how big it actually is and the way it feels buried to the hilt inside of you.

“jesus,” he says, mostly to himself. “feel so fucking good around me. like this pussy was made for me.”

“move, please.” they’re the only two words you can think to say. he’s stretching you just right, but you want him to do something, you need him to do something.

it must be a good enough plea on your part because he complies. his hands press bruises into your hips as he sets a wild pace, thrusts absolutely brutal as he fucks you over a sink in a frat house bathroom. your hands are scrabbling across the countertop, searching for anything to find purchase on as you whine and cry into the tile. you don’t know how long you’re going to last, but you want to draw this out for as long as possible because his cock feels too good inside of you to not do everything you can to stay in this moment.

“getting fucked so good you’re crying?” jeongin questions, his voice rough. he pulls you up sharply by the back of your neck a bit, making you look at him in the mirror. “see that? you’re crying. so much of a cock hungry slut that you’re sobbing over it.”

you give him what he wants. you sob more, louder, nodding at him. you don’t care if it’s blowing up his ego because you’re so gone in the pleasure of it that it doesn’t matter. if jeongin says you’re nothing but a whore begging to be fucked by him, who are you to tell him he’s wrong? especially when it’s entirely true.

the pace he’s set is cruel, unwavering, but you meet all of his thrusts as best as you can, moaning at the way his cock drags against your walls. the whole thing feels world-ending like the second you come, the entire universe will cease to exist. it’s a little dramatic, sure, and it might just be the alcohol still in your system, but jeongin is breaking your back like it’s fucking nothing.

he pulls you up the rest of the way, his chest pressed seamlessly to your back and his hand crosses to the front of your neck instead, keeping you pressed against him as you look at each other in the mirror. the change in angles is devastating and your thighs shake with the effort of trying to stay upright. his eyebrows are furrowed and his eyes are narrowed sharply with the same edge as his jawline.

“bet chan can’t fuck you like this,” he growls directly into your ear, maintaining eye contact through the mirror.

you shake your head in denial, opening your mouth to answer but moaning brokenly instead. “d-don’t know. n-never been with h-him.”

“but you were thinking about it tonight,” he responds, landing a particularly sharp thrust that has you arching against him. “bet you thought you were gonna sleep with him tonight, yeah? let him have his way with you?”

you shake your head again, not willing to provide a verbal answer. he’s right, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“that’s too bad because he’s practically head over heels in love with you.” his voice is smug and the smile on his face is pure self-satisfied when he watches your eyes widen in the mirror. “how do you think he’d feel about his crush getting fucked by someone else in the house that he lives in?”

you want to answer, you do, but the pleasure jeongin’s unleashing on you is almost violent, especially when he brings his free hand down to circle your clit with his fingers. all you can do is shake your head and sob out loud, fat tears falling down your face as he watches you intently, like he wants to commit this all to memory.

“think he could fuck you like this? huh? have you so desperate over his cock that you’re crying even before he starts moving?” his words are downright deadly and you’re just about ready to collapse against him.

you shake your head.

“no?”

you shake your head again.

“who can then? who’s fucking you like this? who’s got you whining like a bitch in heat for him?”

out of nowhere, jeongin’s hand comes down harshly on your clit and your knees almost buckle underneath you. it stings, but in all the right ways and you’re tempted to not answer just to get him to do it again, but you don’t think you’ll keep standing if he does.

“you!” you cry out, squeezing your eyes shut and reaching a hand back to claw at the nape of his neck, anything to get him closer to you. “only you.”

“good answer.”

he slaps at your clit again and you fall forward against the counter, sobbing desperately into the tile. the only words pouring out of you at this point are broken pleas. you don’t even know what you’re begging him for at this point, but you want to fill the silence, no matter how dumb you might sound. in any case, you can probably guess that he’s proud of the fact that he’s fucked you completely stupid, what with the way his hips are snapping into yours impossibly faster.

“you gonna come?” he questions, almost pseudo-sweetly. all you can do is moan in response. “yeah? come on then, pup. wanna feel you come on my cock. you can do it.”

with a few hard thrusts and jeongin’s fingers working at your clit for the last time, you finally come undone. your vision turns white and you go limp against the counter, cheek pressing into the refreshingly cool countertop as you moan out for him. it feels like it lasts forever, the way you’re experiencing the most intense aftershocks. you’re so far gone that you almost miss watching the face of ecstasy that passes over his face as your cunt squeezes around him dangerously. just as he’s about to come, he pulls out of you, leaving you to whine at the loss of him once again and clench around nothing as he jerks himself off a few times before he comes across your ass and lower back.

his arms come to rest on either side of your shoulders as he leans over you, dripping sweat as he tries to catch his breath. you’re still boneless and limp, practically hanging on for dear life to the counter, when he successfully recovers.

he runs a hand through his hair, pushing it away from his forehead, and takes a second to close his eyes, draw a breath, ground himself. without even a word, he moves to grab a washcloth from a drawer and runs it under warm water. when he drags it across your skin in an effort to clean you up, it feels heavenly, but entirely too soft after the scene you’ve just been through. like fuck, jeongin blew your back out and starting offering the sweetest aftercare ever without even saying anything. surely this is all just a fever dream.

“i didn’t hurt you too much, did i?” he finally questions, helping you stand and then sit on the counter.

you’re incredibly shocked by the gentleness he’s regarding you with, not touching you anywhere too harshly as if to keep you from cracking like a porcelain doll. it shouldn’t shock you more than him bending you over the counter and fucking you into next week, but it does. but you don’t mind this so much either.

so you shake your head again and smile hazily at him, raising a hand to brush away some of the hair that’s fallen back into his eyes. “no, i’m okay.”

he smiles at that and it might be the first real, genuine smile he’s given to you after years of knowing him. it’s a stunning smile, you think, wide and reaching his eyes, so much so that his eyes turn into what you can only liken to brush strokes from a calligraphy pen.

and you want to see it more.

“okay, cool,” he says. “if that changes, let me know.”

there’s a beat of silence as you stare at each other in the led lights of the bathroom, your hands still in his hair and his focus still on you entirely. you want it to last, you really do because this seems too monumental, too sweet for it to just be a singular instance.

“here,” jeongin finally says, bending down to retrieve your clothes from the floor. “let me help you put them back on.”

when all is said and done, you look the same as you did when you left the basement, but this time, jeongin has offered you his sweater in reparations for the alcohol still staining the back of yours. you look at the two of you in the mirror, at the way he looks standing behind you while you wear his sweater and it feels you with a strange sense of comfort.

“can you make it back home?” he questions, smoothing out some of your hair that hasn’t settled back into place yet.

“um… maybe. i only live across the street in the dorms, but-”

“that’s my hall, too, so… let me walk you home?”

you wonder how much of it is because he’s worried for your safety and how much of it is because he wants to spend more time with you. considering your own sudden change in feelings towards him, you suppose it doesn’t really matter. you smile and this time, you nod, and you love the way his eyes sparkle, even in the dark, when you tell him yes.

your phone is full of worried texts and missed calls from felix and chan, and you’re glad to see them so concerned over your wellbeing, but you can’t bear to tell them what you’ve really been up to; felix will be confused and chan… well… you shoot them both a quick text, telling them that you met with one of your friends from another class and she needed help getting home, so you’ve been caught up with taking care of her.

jeongin is waiting for you outside on the front lawn when you finally slip through the front door of the frat house, not wanting to run the risk of your friends seeing you two together. as hurt as he must be because of it, the smile on his face makes up for it entirely, especially when he extends his hand towards you and you slip your own into it, letting him intertwine your fingers. he says it’s just to keep you a little safer, but you know the truth.

[metaphor-cheese]

Because im weak for my own damn au heres some doof and byoof hcs:

-buford wants to call doof dad but is too anxious to do it other than accidentally

-doof has 100% accepted him as an honorary child however. whenever people ask him how many kids he has he says 3, before pausing and asking if they mean biologically, legally or emotionally

-vanessa and buford had no idea what to make of each other at first but he offered her some tuff gum and she gave him one earphone so they could listen to heavy metal together and they reached an understanding. They’ve said like 3 words to each other but hang out all the time

-they watched one of vanessas french films together once and buford quietly understood every word and when he laughed at a pun vanessa was like ‘?!?!!?’

-norm pats the Childe on the head. He is accepted.

-biffany and doof know each other from yoga class and she sees him as bufords babysitter. Buford has warned doof that if he hooks up up his ma its on sight

-buford had a meltdown once like Really Bad and doof instantly went into parent mode

-doof asked about bufords dad one (1) time. Biffany was busy and he asked why his dad couldnt pick him up instead. Buford didnt reply and doofs pretty aware of family issues so he dropped it and just silently decided ‘right. Time to be a dad’

-buford talks abt baljeet all the time. Doof refers to him as his ‘little friend’ or ‘little enemy’ depending on the context (“‘nemesis’ is a bit strong. I mean you’re still just kids, afterall”) and is torn between thinking its cute and being sick to the back teeth of hearing about him

-he totally gave buford ice cream and sat with him on the couch telling him he was too good for baljeet while he cried over the breakup at one point fkckdkkdfkmf

-eventually doof hears enough abt the situation he forces them both on dr feelbetter lol

-buford keeps seeing perry around doofs base and is always like “what’re you doing here little buddy? :/ *picks up and hugs* dw i got ya. Im gonna get you home :)” and perry is Dying inside because now he has to treck all the way back

-buford has never once said doofs name right and doof has never once spelt bufords name right. Equivalent exchange

-whenever buford hears an emotionally scaring backstory he’s always like ‘oof thats rough buddy’ so doof stopped telling him emotionally scaring backstories

-vanedsa bought buford an nb pride badge when he came out

-buford Does Not understand norm but they’re both batshit so they get along. Norm will be like ‘I LIKE MY EGGS CRUNCHY :)’ and buford will be like ‘wtf. …yeah same’ and they highfive

-buford cant rlly build but he likes to think he’s helping. He tends to default to his task in phineas and ferbs builds of just carrying heavy stuff to doof but doof wants him to feel included so he’ll sometimes teach him how to use a drill or lift him up so he can turn on the machine or let him add a sandwich maker to the design in the blueprints stage or snth

-buford sometimes rants about something really stupid and petty and doofs like ‘DUDE. SAME HAT.’ and then when they build an inator based it, he lets buford tell his emotionally scaring backstory of being ripped off in a yarn shop or smth

-theres always some plot contrivance that stops buford finding out doofs nemesis is perry. Always.

-perry wanted reassigning cos of this new difficulty but OWCA sucks and is exploiting him so they refused. Give this damn plat a day off

[marvelmaniac715]

This is Chapter Ten of the Kingdom AU fanfic I’m writing with @fanficwriter284. This chapter’s shorter, but it’ll cover some important plot details that will be relevant later :). To make up for the shorter chapter, here’s some Picrew fanart I made for this AU of the twins:

Glenda:

Glen:

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The twins had decided to go to the stables together to learn more about how to care for their new horses. This gave Chucky and Tiffany the perfect opportunity to have an important conversation. They’d been putting it off all day, but this conversation needed to happen, so with heavy hearts, the couple sat down together. Chucky started.

“I have a plan to lure Psychs out of hiding, but it feels so wrong…”

He frowned, overcome with guilt and shame. But his wife squeezed his hand, silently urging him to continue, so he did.

“It doesn’t feel entirely safe, but if he knew that the children were out in public with seemingly no guards around them, he may be tempted to try again.”

Tiffany cocked her head to one side, slightly curious.

“But how would we make it look as if there were no guards around the children? Chucky, remember the mistake we made when the twins were babies and-‘

“I know, I know the mistake we made the first time, love. The guard who was foolish enough to sleep whilst on duty paid dearly for it, remember? I’m not suggesting we let our children out into the world with no supervision, I’m merely wondering if sending some guards to accompany the twins in plain clothes at a slight distance would be such a bad idea.”

Tiffany nodded, satisfied that her babies would be safe. She couldn’t sleep peacefully knowing that the monster that had kidnapped her newborns was still out there, possibly plotting his revenge. Even when she and her family had been riding horses together, she’d been unable to shake the feeling that somebody was watching her from the bushes, despite repeatedly checking that there was nobody there. It had only taken one moment of weakness last time, who knows what would happen if they allowed themselves to idly sit by whilst a kidnapper was on the loose? She hated what the plan would entail, but what other choices did they have?

“So what did you have in mind for the children? Should we tell them?”

Immediately, Chucky shook his head.

“Absolutely not. It would only concern them, they should know nothing of our plan. As for my plans for the children, I don’t wish to overwhelm them so soon. I was thinking perhaps a portrait or two, a couple of public outings, not much, just enough to let him know that our family is together again. If we do things right, the children may actually find the next few weeks to be an enjoyable experience.”

Again, Tiffany nodded. The more her husband spoke, the less concerned she was for her children’s well-being. She wanted them to be safe of course, but more than that, she wanted them to be happy, and if they planned everything just so, the twins would maintain their innocence. With this plan made, the couple shook hands. But before they could discuss the topic further, the door burst open, and a frantic looking messenger stood in the doorway, gasping for breath.

“Your majesties, I come bearing dark tidings!”

Immediately, Chucky sprang to his feet, drawing his sword. Meanwhile, Tiffany stood, planning to head to the stables to ensure the safety of her children. Chucky would have gone with her, but alas, his duties lied with his kingdom above all else, because he was often its only line of defence. Trying to keep a calm and level tone but ultimately failing, the Madeyed King addressed the trembling servant.

“What news? How do my children fare?”

The messenger gulped and tried to maintain eye contact with his king.

“The prince and princess fare well, my king, they were playing in the stables the last I saw of them. But I carry a message from Clayoun.”

Chucky paled as Tiffany gasped in horror. What did his nemesis King Clah have to say right now? When they were already so weakened and vulnerable. Desperate to hear the message, he rushed forward and pinned the messenger to the nearest wall by the neck.

“Well? Speak, man! What news?”

In between wheezes and pathetic gasps for air, the messenger choked out:

“P-prepare for war.”

This is really exciting, me and @fanficwriter284 are collaborating to write a fic together! It’s set in their Kingdom AU, where Chucky and Tiffany are king and queen of a kingdom. Think of this fic as a blend between Seed of Chucky and Tangled, it should be a lot of fun. It’s another multi chapter fic, and we’ll take turns writing chapters. This is the prologue. We hope you enjoy it :).

————————————————————-

The night was dark and cold. The howling wind perfectly matched the howling of Queen Tiffany, who was currently going through a difficult labour. Her husband wasn’t home for the birth, he’d been called away at the last minute to yet another battle. Not called away exactly, he tended to wage war when he was stressed, and he had been extremely stressed during the pregnancy. Conceiving had been difficult, to have not one child but two was utterly miraculous.

Chucky had promised to be home before sunrise, but as it 11 o’clock at night and Tiffany had not received word that he was close, that prospect was seeming less and less likely. So it seemed as if the Queen was doomed to suffer through her labour alone, not feeling comforted by the terrified doctors and maids surrounding her. 

As her screams reached a crescendo, the door flew open, and a frantic looking King Charles Lee Loman Reinhardt burst into the room, sporting a dozen new open scars. Momentarily forgetting any sense of regal decorum, he ran up to his wife and grasped her hand in his, squeezing tightly with a deep sense of worry.

“Have the babies not come yet?”

Tiffany screamed yet again, before gathering the strength to speak. 

“No, it’s been hours! I’m starting to believe these children will never come-‘

Chucky squeezed tighter, growing more worried, despite that seeming impossible. Seemingly noticing how intense he seemed, he tried to smile, but it seemed more like a terrified grimace.

“Don’t say that, my own mother had a difficult labour with my twin and I, but we were born eventually. Besides, this is the hardest part, afterwards we’ll be parents. Isn’t that just incredible?”

This thought comforted Tiffany, and as she thought about how wonderful motherhood was going to be, she began to feel something shift. Could it be? Was it time? As if in confirmation, a doctor nodded and beamed.

“I think I can see a head, ma’am! Push!”

Immediately, Tiffany pushed with all of her might, digging her nails into her husband’s hand as she did so. Chucky, to his credit, didn’t make a single sound that would indicate that he was in pain. He’d had practice from the battlefield, he wouldn’t cry out even if he were stabbed through the heart.

After what seemed like an eternity of pushing (which was, in actuality, only eleven minutes) a healthy baby boy with hair the colour of his father’s came kicking and screaming into the world. A son and heir, the kingdom would be so happy. It didn’t matter what the second child’s gender was, Tiffany had done her queenly duty and provided a male heir. As the boy was washed and wrapped in blankets, Tiffany valiantly began to push out the second child.

This birth seemed easier, potentially due to the fact that Tiffany’s stress has alleviated, and about five minutes later the second child was born. This child was a girl, with a head of flame-red hair identical to her father and brother’s. Now the kingdom had a new prince and princess, and Tiffany was so pleased.

Mere moments later, both twins were placed on their mother’s chest, freshly washed and swaddled. Their father bent down to get a good look at them out of his good eye. Tiffany had worried that her husband would struggle to bond with the children, he always seemed so closed off and he had publicly stated that he detested children in the past. But the second that Chucky reached down to touch their children’s faces so tenderly, she knew that this wouldn’t be an issue.

“You’ve done so well, my love. What shall we name them, then?”

Giving this a moment of thought, Tiffany glanced down at her babies, struggling to make up her mind. There had been a list of approved names, but looking down at the twins, it was clear that none of them would fit. She looked up at her husband for assistance.

“Can’t think of one, huh? That’s okay, none of the names we like fit, do they? I did have a backup option, but I wanted to wait until the twins were here to see if the name would work. It was a name for our son, our daughter could maybe have a name that started with the same letter?”

That sounded like a great idea, it certainly took a lot of stress out naming. Relieved, Tiffany nodded and smiled.

“What was the name you were thinking of?”

Chucky suddenly grew quiet, slightly sad even. He reached out to hold their son, and stared into the boy’s eyes. He nodded decisively and looked back at his wife.

“Carolus. After my twin brother.”

Tiffany looked down at her son and tested out the name.

“Carolus… I like it. It’s a beautiful name, thank you for suggesting it. Perhaps our daughter’s name could be Cara?”

As if in agreement, the newborn princess grunted and opened her eyes and mouth as wide as she could. Seeing this, both parents laughed.

“I think she likes that name! Okay, it’s settled then. Welcome to the world, Carolus and Cara.”

————————————————————-

A celebration was held throughout the kingdom, lanterns were lit, people danced in the streets. Everybody was thrilled to have a new prince and princess, especially since the King had promised to hold off any battles for the time being, vowing to dedicate himself to his family and not put his life in danger for their sakes.

It was the next evening before Tiffany and Chucky were able to get any sleep. They loathed leaving their children in the nursery down the hall, but that was the custom. They were so tired that they immediately fell asleep the second their heads hit the pillow.

If they had been in a lighter sleep, or maybe even awake, they would’ve heard the latch on the nursery window coming undone. They would’ve heard the quiet freak as the window opened, and the howling of the wind that had been let indoors. They would’ve heard the sound of footsteps in the nursery, followed by the cries of terrified infants. But it was too late.

The next morning, Tiffany went into the nursery to see her children, only to find the cradles empty. With a devastated howl that made her husband run into the room, she came to the heartbreaking realisation that her children were missing.