#so many missed opportunities man. so much wasted potential

[sage-nebula]

It's been so long since I've played the original trilogy that I honestly couldn't tell you which of the three is my favorite, but at this point I'm starting to think that it might honestly be the first one, if only because the first one doesn't have a single case that makes me want to concuss myself. (Which isn't to say that T&T does, but just that I really don't remember T&T well enough to say for sure.)

The four original cases in the first Ace Attorney game are all excellent, both in terms of story / character content, but also in terms of gameplay. Although I hadn't played in so many years, I didn't pick a wrong answer even once in the first four cases, because the puzzles were laid out so masterfully that the answer became clear with only a minute or two of thinking. I want to note that this is different from hand-holding; it's not that the game told you what the answer was, but that logic allowed for puzzling out when it was time to show this or that evidence. You also didn't have to Press on every single line of testimony usually, because pressing on just the ones that it was intuitive to press on was usually enough.

Now, that's for the first four cases. The same can't really be said for "Rise From the Ashes," but that's because RftA was written after the main trilogy was already completed, and thus suffered the same issues that JFA (and I'm assuming T&T) had: extremely finicky cases which were incredibly picky about when and where they wanted you to show this or that evidence, or requiring you to backtrack to rooms because it refused to make a crucial piece of evidence appear during an investigation sequence unless you had talked to some completely unrelated character already beforehand.

This might sound like griping because I am just not good at these games, but I don't think that's the case. Again, the first four cases in the original game didn't have this problem, at least in my most recent experience. Both the trial sections and the investigation sections made sense with very little nitpicky "this must absolutely be done in This Particular Sequence" bits. It's just RftA, and so far each case in JFA, that seems to have this issue. This could be because Takumi or Capcom wanted to up the difficulty in the later games, or at least increase the length of the cases (both RftA and the cases in JFA so far have significantly more evidence than the first four cases in the original game), but either way, it's noticeable.

Having said that though, although RftA had numerous parts where I had to look up a walkthrough because I didn't interact with the exact pixel of the evidence room at the exact right moment in the investigation and thus couldn't get the evidence I knew was right there, I still forgive it because I love the story and the characters. Although there is legitimate critique to be made about it (most notably how they retconned Edgeworth having ever forged evidence because of his popularity by that point in the series timeline), I still enjoy the story and the characters so much that it doesn't matter as much to me. Plus, tbh, it explains even more why Edgeworth would make the drastic choice he made between games, even if you don't take the retcon into account. The man was really going through it for those few months. (Though having said that, Phoenix being like "all prosecutors are evil scumbags" in light of him knowing Lana is still . . . lmao. You really can tell that RftA was made post the original trilogy.)

So at least, thus far into my replay of the OG trilogy, I rank the first game (with all five cases present) as above JFA, since while JFA has what is quite possibly my favorite case in the entire series (Farewell My Turnabout), it also has Turnabout Big Top, which just . . . well, you know. I feel like TBT is probably the most universally hated case in the fandom, lol.

But we'll see how I feel when I get to T&T, since that's the game from the OG trilogy I remember the least. I do know that I loved playing as Mia and I also love Dahlia as a villain, and getting to play as Edgeworth vs. Franziska was also delightful. So it definitely has aspects I am looking forward to. We'll just have to see if I find all of its cases enjoyable like I did the original game before I can make the final determination on that.

[fricc-darn]

Hey I really like your B.E.N hcs and I was wondering if maybe I could possibly hear some of your hcs for Benjamin if you have any by chance?

(Love ur work btw :])

AWW thank you so much :DDD💖💖!! I def have hcs Benji! (warning for substance abuse and child neglect)

Ben is a fairly sweet child with shimmery silver eyes and freckles sprinkled throughout his skin. When Ben was alive, he was a bit of an outcast. He didn't have many friends or people to talk to. In addition to being big-boned, having vitiligo and autism made it hard to connect with other kids.

His voice was squeaky, and there was always a lisp present due to his missing front tooth. Ben's school experience was mediocre at best, and at worst, there would be days he wouldn't attend. The overwhelming environment sets off his selective mustiness.

Back home wasn't much better, but at least he had some space to himself. Ben lived in a trailer with his mother and father. It would've been a quaint place to live if there was continuous upkeep. There were piles of accumulated clutter that made certain areas claustrophobic. The home's wasted potential of the home was being eaten away with mold and rot. Questionable living conditions for anyone, especially a twelve-year-old.

As for his parents, they were also questionable. They were never home for long periods, and were poor listeners. Life hadn't been rough for either of his parents, leading to them using unfavorable coping skills.

His mother was a job hopper. She was kind-hearted but jittery and not all there. She would take any opportunity to shower her boy with affection. In a way, she was attempting to make up for the lost time.

Ben's father was a blue-collar worker, with calloused hands and a rough exterior. The man spoke with a drunken slur. He loved Ben but did it through tough love. He wants his boy to grow up strong and know how to stand his ground. Ben was too trusting for his own good.

Their unintentional neglect made Ben find other avenues of entertainment besides doodling images of Link in his sketchbooks and playing Majora's Mask. There were a select few of the kids he met up with after school to play with in the park.

Through a friend of a friend, Ben met Matt. An older kid, who seemed like he had his life together. They hit it off instantly, growing close like brothers. The two called, played games, and had sleepovers when Ben's parents weren't there to supervise him. If Ben needed something—anything—he could trust Matt.

Of course, when Matt started to talk about this group he was a part of, it piqued Ben's interest. Did Ben understand the logistics of it? Absolutely not! Yet if there was a chance to be like his idol, he'd take it. He'd be strong and courageous, and more people would like him. What was not to love?

Soon enough, it was time for his ascension. The gentle neighborhood boy died scared and alone. Struggling for his last breath in an insignificant body of cold water. Ben's body was left to decay at the bottom, getting washed out by the sediments.

His body was never found. Everyone in the area knew how Ben died. Some murmurings circulated about the cause of his death. However, those theories didn't last long. It was written off as an accident with no further investigation. After the initial short-lived panic, everyone was quiet. Details were kept vague. As if everything were fine.

Ben was stuck in this digital purgatory. He didn't get to be the hero he wanted to be. He couldn't move; he couldn't even speak. Ben was trapped within this statue, like locked in paralysis. Time passed, and he grew sadder that his death was the catalyst of this experiment. The thought became horrifying when Ben realized he wasn't alone.

[adiosmotherfck]

Could you write something for Graves, reader gives off major black widow vibes and has worked with shadow company multiple times in the past and now she has a mission with them again. Some fluff or angst i dont mind but they definitely have a flirtatious relationship and a lot of mutual attraction.

If you can that would be amazing!!

Chemicals in the Air

Phillip "Shadow-1" Graves x fem!Reader

cw: blood, violence, guns, swearing, fluff (for once)

word count: 3k

situation: You and Graves were an iconic duo, so now you had one of the many missions you had together, and even in a bad situation his humour never falters..

A/N: I am not sure I portrayed the major black widow vibes for the reader, but the reader is definitely cool as hell in hand to hand combat.. Hopefully that is included in black widow vibes, sorry if this is not what you wanted/expected!

You made your way towards the automatic sliding doors, and brought your keycard up to the reader, but before you swiped it the doors opened by themselves. The already familiar room greeting you, with a familiar face inside.

You raised an eyebrow with a little smile, seeing Phillip Graves sitting in the chair at the end of the table watching you with a small smile of his own. You lowered your hand and made your way inside the room, the doors sliding closed behind you.

“Missed me that much, eh?” you sat down on the other side of the table, facing the man who was leaning back in his office chair, watching you. You knew it was him who opened the door right before you did it yourself. He must've watched the cameras, watching you approach, you knew he couldn't have heard you. Even in your combat boots you moved with grace and stealth, not giving away your position with walking sounds.

“How could I not? I missed wipin’ the drool off my Shadows’ faces.” his lips turned up into a smirk on his face as he sent a file sliding on the table into your hands.

“Ay, no need to boost my ego this much, Graves, we both know you were drooling yourself watching me walk here.” you said, opening the file and skimming through the text written on the pages.

You’ve worked with Graves and Shadow Company several times and both of you grew to like the dynamics between you. Making jokes, flirting and sometimes picking on each other to keep the air burning between you two.

When he invited you to join the mission with him for the first time, he never knew you personally or ever met you before. He knew your achievements records, he saw your mission reports and knew that he needed a soldier like you working with him.

You didn't know what to expect from him when you first got the invitation, but Shadow Company’ name was well respected. Many of your fellow soldiers would want to join the ranks of Shadows or be invited to join the Shadow Company on missions, so you decided to not waste the chance and give this opportunity a try.

You and Graves quickly found yourself in comfortable communication and after the first mission, that was successful and you even managed to finish it ahead of time, a number of other tasks and missions followed which you happily did together with Graves and his Shadows.

“This time everything is serious. They are manufacturing and shipping potential biological weapons. The base is too big to be ambushed with no potential consequences, we will have to separate and go in from different ends and meet in the middle.” his tone got typically serious as he explained the situation, watching you furrow your eyebrows a little at the words.

“Let me guess, Botulinum toxin?” you asked, keeping your eyes on the text and the picture of the base, that was clipped at the top of the file.

“Bingo. A gram kills a few million people if inhaled.” Phillip answered, keeping his hands together on the table.

“Lazy bastards, no creativity whatsoever, always choose the easiest one to make.” you closed the file and sent it sliding back across the table to land at Graves’ hands. “When are we moving?”

“Two days, while we develop a flawless plan and deliver the gas masks for the whole battalion, we can't possibly risk going in without them. If we fail, no one is coming back home.” he concluded, his hand going through his blond hair.

“Then let's do our worst.” you said, standing up from the table, the gesture he mirrored.

“Perhaps you wanted to say our best.” he raised an eyebrow, the familiar little smirk returning to his face.

“Nah, Commander, I meant our worst.” you returned the smirk and with a glance over your shoulder at him you left the office.

Two days flew by too quickly, you stayed at the Shadow Company’ base, like you always did before the missions while the planning and preparations were taking place. You prepared your rifle and pistol, stuffing the knives into the relative pockets on your thighs and vest. You made sure to check your gas mask several times for any signs of malfunctions or defects, it's better to find them before the mission and not when you are in the building exposed to the toxins.

You and Graves were leading two groups of soldiers, you and your group entering from the main entrance, while Graves and his group would infiltrate from the back. The plan was to wipe the building clean, as cruel as it sounds, the building was filled with organised crime gang members, there weren't any scientists left who developed the materials and chemicals for the biological weapon currently being stored there.

Both of you knew the importance of the mission that was in front of you. It would have been handled by the military and special forces, but the rules of engagement were different and the risk was too high, so the high standing commanders didn't want to risk their soldiers, sending the PMCs and you in there.

“So are we clear, Shadows?” Graves’ voice sounded in the silent angar where almost 2 hundred of Shadows were gathered all together and were listening to the last words before the mission from their Commander. Loads of “Yup-yup” sounded throughout the air and Graves gave them a satisfied nod, glancing at you, who stood by his side in front of everyone.

After the meeting, all of you made the final checks and went for the lined up vehicles to take you to the base. You and Graves stood in between two cars, the base was big so halfway there you’d have to take different directions to your entrances to start the infiltration plan.

“So Y/N, you are leaving me again, eh?” he smiled at you.

“You wish I did, I'll be on your radio in 30 after we leave.” you joked, putting your helmet on and struggling with the clip.

“Come here.” Graves stepped closer and leaned to you, clipping the helmet straps under your chin. “What's next? Changing your magazines and then brushing your teeth?”

You gave him a slight shove on the shoulder “Considering your age, I will have to walk you back and forth to the bathroom when your back gives out.”

“Looking forward to it, Y/N.” he laughed and then genuinely smiled at you and instantly recognised that look on his face.

“No, don’t you dare start that now.” you pointed a finger at him with a pointed look “I will meet you in the middle of the base and then back at your HQ.”

“You better do, because if you decide to die on me, I will bring you back to kill you myself.” he said, shoving your finger away gently.

“Don't worry, you aren't getting rid of me so easily.” you gave him a small raise of the eyebrow and made your way into the car, alongside two other Shadows.

The road to the base took all of you quite a long time, your muscles starting to ache from sitting in the same position for too long. You've heard through the radio Phillip answering some of the questions of his Shadows, rolling your eyes once when the man got too cocky.

When you finally made it to the nearest to the base woods, exiting the vehicles and making your way closer to it on foot, constantly on alert, scanning the perimeter in front of you.

You stopped, looking at the base territory through binoculars offered to you by one of the Shadows with you, noting the outside guards.

“3 on the left side, 2 on top of the entrance and 3 patrolling the right side.” you stated, receiving several quick nods from the soldiers with you.

You gave the binoculars back, taking the sniper rifle from the hands of the Shadow on your left, two other Shadows lowered themselves down on the ground, looking at the base through the scopes. You did the same, laying down, knowing that others were currently watching your three’s back and sides to eliminate the threats which might arise in close proximity.

“Starting with the trio on the left, shooting the way we are positioned. I take the guy on the left, Shadow 2-1 take the middle and 2-5 take the guy on the right. 3..2..1.” you commanded and 3 almost synced and silenced shots were heard in the air, as the three guards fell to the ground. You repeated that with the two on top of the entrance and three patrolling the right side.

“Good job, now we advance before they get notified.” you stood up and advanced towards the base with the Shadows following closely behind you.

Moving to the breaching position at the front, you found the door unlocked, which wasn't uncommon but in a place of such secrecy like this, it was a mixed signal. You silently gestured to the front guys to open the doors and for others to proceed with you in front.

After several nods, you exhaled and put down your gas mask, in case anything was in the air or was about to get in there when they notice your arrival.

You got through the door and gunfire started immediately. Shots were being fired from at least 4 places in the big hall, as you ducked for cover, peeking from behind a large stack of wooden boxes with your M4 in front of you, returning the enemy fire.

Slowly but surely you were advancing through the hall, notifying Graves of your position. He and his group successfully entered the base approximately at the same time as you, causing much less noise considering their entry point. It was now a matter of time for you to meet in the middle.

Advancing through the base was a challenge, the air was foggy and you didn't know if it was from the smoke bombs or something else was in the air, something that would burn your lungs from the inside in matter of seconds, leaving you breathless forever.

As you advanced it was getting bloodier, messier and dirtier. The enemies were sometimes appearing in close distance out of nowhere, appearing from the smoke and trying to challenge you in hand to hand combat, with you easily dealing with them, losing a few of your knives in their necks on the way.

“Y/N, Shadow 2, check your fire we are closing on the meeting point, silent on our side.” you heard Grave’s voice on the radio and quickly pressed the button to answer “Roger.” to him, but the sight in front of you left your finger frozen on the button, as you eyed an army of at least 100 armed men filling the storage room.

Coming back to your senses at the loud noises of gunfire, you dropped on the floor sliding a few metres on your knees towards the closest column, that was perfectly covering you.

“Shadow 1, advance towards us, they are all here.” you almost yelled into the radio, peeking from the column and immediately being met with a rain of bullets on it. You managed to kill several men before you had to duck back to reload, you didn't hear Grave’s answer or if he answered at all, the men were advancing towards you and it was a bad sign.

Your numbers were plummeting, while it looked like theirs stayed the same if now grew bigger. It was no surprise that Graves’ side was silent, everyone was there to meet your group, probably not expecting a second one from the back which would hopefully pay them a good lesson if Graves ever came.

A man appeared right in front of you, swinging at you with the butt of his rifle. He had the element of surprise so you didn't react as quickly as you would've if you knew he was there, but you grabbed his hand yanking him towards the ground, wrapping your legs around his waist pinning him to the ground and putting your M4 under his neck, roughly pulling it back to break it. A few seconds later the man was laying on the ground limp.

You swore under your breath as you kept firing rounds at the enemy men advancing towards your positions. You reached for another magazine in your vest as you felt that all the other magazine pockets on your vest were empty. Swearing some more, you took the last magazine, reloading and keeping active fire on the enemies.

As you suspected, one magazine wasn't enough to keep you fighting for too long. Shoving the empty rifle to your side, to let it just hang and not bother you, you took the pistol out of the vest and kept firing.

That won you some time, as you looked over the Shadows, whose magazines were almost empty just as yours. Praying for Graves’ fast arrival, you emptied your pistol into the enemies. The last weapon you had was your long bladed knife, which you were now gripping in your hand, pressing the radio button with your other hand.

“Shadows, we keep fighting. Take your knives, nails, teeth, I don't care. We do not step back and keep going forward. Let's do this.” you glanced around, catching a few head nods and nodded to yourself.

There weren't many enemy men left, but they had the weapon advantage, definitely having enough bullets left. You peeked out of your column and saw a man heading towards you with a greasy smile on his face and his knife in hand. You exhaled and stepped out of the cover, swinging the knife at him, the man managed to dodge it, aiming for your neck with his own knife now. You quickly caught his wrist, tightly squeezing it to make him drop the knife, while he tried to attack you with his free hand.

Your hand to hand combat was supported by the fighting noises on all of your sides, with Shadows attacking enemy men with knives and gloved hands. The man was skilled in combat, there was no doubt about it, as he dodged your attempts to stab him and almost succeeded in stabbing you with his knife.

You finally succeeded in stabbing your knife deep into his neck, the man falling limp on the ground, and before you managed to catch your breath another jumped on you from behind, trying to make you lose balance and fall to the floor. You shifted your weight and grabbing the mans arm with both of your hands, and bent forwards, sending the man flying from behind of you, to the ground in front of you, bending his arm to an unnatural angle and then lowering to your knees and snapping his neck. As you were wiping the sweat off your forehead you felt rough hands grip your shoulder and before you managed to react and send the man flying the same way you just did with his colleague, you felt the cold blade of the knife under your throat.

The smoke was slowly settling down, so most of the room was still hardly visible, and the enemy knew the base better than all of you all together, allowing them to use it as cover and use that to their advantage, like for example right now. The man dragged you back a little, so no one of the Shadows could come up to him from the side or from behind, as his back almost hit the wall, with you on your knees at his feet.

“You killed all my men, you will pay for your crimes!” the man holding you said, as he pressed the knife a little more into your neck. “You have the last chance to get the hell out of here or your girl will bleed out in front of you!”

The heavy silence settled in the angar, as the Shadows didn't dare move, knowing that the man was more than capable of going further with what he just threatened to do.

“Leave my grounds, you fools! You have 10 seconds or I’m gonna show you the difference between real men and private empty headed dogs! I will slice her throat open for you all to see.” the knife was being pressed into your throat stronger, and you felt a few drops of blood run down your neck as you swallowed.

“One..” the man said but was abruptly cut off, his weight suddenly falling on top of you, pressing you to the ground, his blood dirtying your clothes. You immediately pushed him off, with several Shadows rushing to your side to help you.

You pressed a hand to your throat the cold feeling of the knife still burning your skin, as you saw familiar boots in your view and looked up, seeing Graves staring down at you and then pressing the button on his radio.

“Bastard stole my line, I couldn't forgive him that.” he said and offered you a hand to stand up.

You ignored it, rolling your eyes and standing up yourself, pressing the button on the radio “I’d say thank you, but it took you long enough. Did your back give out on the way here?”

You saw the crinkles around his eyes appear, indicating that the commander was smiling under his gas mask “Yeah, something like that, I just didn't really want to come.”

You gave him a light shove on the shoulder and both of you lead your teams out of the building, to let the professionals handle the biological weapon inside, now that the base was clear.

[aethermint]

Harry Potter/Fantastic Beast fandom here me out...

I see loads of people that like to villainise Albus Dumbledore for his actions. I haven't read the books but watched all the films and in my opinion his whole character and backstory has SO much wasted potential. He really could have been such a GREAT villain.

After the muggles brutally attack his little sister Ariana, and essentially condem her to tortureous suffering until the day she died, his father imprisoned and killed. His mother died a slow death, his brother's surrounded by misery and pain. Albus himself is fuelled with grief, anger and pain. Following canon and Grindeldore.... All the way up to Fantastic Beasts.

Albus secretly thirsts for vengeance, and what better vengeful action against the muggles is their own destruction? And he even gets to paint himself as the hero and stay on top.

Albus Dumbledore never wanted to rule the muggle world, no. He wanted to ruin it.

There are so many opportunities and ideas that could have been. Basically what I'm saying is that somebody should re-write Albus Dumbledore's whole character and Fantastic Beasts series. Anyways. I really think Toby Regbo (and Jude law) could play an exceptionally malipulative and murderous Albus Dumbledore and well we all know how amazing Jaime Campbell Bower and Mads would play Gellert Grindelwald. They could have been bloody good murder husbands!! Missed opportunity right there guys. Might have to write it myself.

Yeahhhhh I'm so drunk right now man

[scattered-winter]

Say, what are some characters you feel like had a metric ton of potential that was completely scrapped by the writers?

i feel like it would be cheating if i said all of them so. ill try and be more specific lmao <3 i was gonna show restraint and only do a few but FUCK IT you're getting the entire essay

coran. i know he's meant to be the Comic Relief character but idk. its possible to have a comic relief character who also has gravity and emotion, ykw ??? like idk i feel like all the show/fandom ever talks about is how allura lost everything (which is TRUE. SHE DID. IM NOT TRYING TO MINIMIZE THAT AT ALL.) but idk. allura was young enough that she probably didn't really have an established life on altea yet but coran??? he was an adult. fully grown, probably had friends or coworkers, even a partner and family. idk idk he lost as much as if not more than allura did and the writers barely ever acknowledged it. he isn't allowed to connect with any of the characters or have any actual genuine moments because he's supposed to be The Funny One. idk if the writing actually aknowledged his grief and trauma more, but still made him so lighthearted and goofy, that would be FASCINATING. HE STILL HAS HOPE. HE CAN STILL LAUGH. ET CETERA. but noooo he's just Silly with nothing deeper to it. sigh

in that same vein, hunk. again, he's often comic relief (and that comic relief is usually a fat joke

lotor. ik a lot of ppl have mixed opinions on the guy (fair) but like. he had SO much potential to be so many different things but i think the writers just. had too many things they wanted him to be. so his writing was all over the place because they couldn't make up their minds

haggar......again. i had SUCH a hard time pinning down any of her motives or characterization when she was the Main Villain (which to be fair might have been due to the fact that i was Mentally Checked The Fuck Out by the time s7/s8 rolled around) but like ??? i still have no idea what she was trying to do as the main villain in s7/8. she was such a menacing villain in the first few seasons but then the writing got soo confusing and needlessly complicated and i completely lost interest in anything about her character

shiro. the fact that he went through So Much but still gave the blade of marmora enough hope to risk everything to rescue him and kickstart the events of s1 ??? the fact that he Continued to go through So Much but was still a rock for the team and was still goofy and fun and dorky and lovable ?????? and ALL THAT to not even be in the show for the next 5 or so seasons and then be permanently sidelined when he DOES come back. what the fuck. like they tried to have an atlas metaphor later on to try and bring him back into the narrative but it was MEANINGLESS. sooo much wasted potential. a narrative about healing....finding love + family + connection......ending the war that has caused so much pain for Him Personally......man. we could have had it ALL

keith. i legiterally don't even recognize keith after s3 like !!! who is this man !!!!! he had abandonment + anger issues from being alone his Whole Life and instead of finding a close-knit family in space, he was isolated again and again and again, and shoved into a role he didn't want and wasn't meant for, and by the end bro was UNRECOGNIZABLE. in theory i LOVE the concept of keith learning to rely on his team more and take more of a leadership role as he grows as a person + teammate, but they had the PERFECT opportunity to do that already with keith being red paladin!!!!!!!! the red paladin is voltron's right hand!!!!!!! if the black isn't there, then red steps up to take charge!!!!!! idk. it would have been so so so so cool if shiro was only missing Temporarily and keith had to work through his own grief/fear/etc and take up the mantle of red paladin to keep the team together just long enough until shiro got back because he would NOT want that shit long-term. idk. i know keith literally got most of the storylines and arcs in the show but i still think he had wasted potential because most of those arcs fundamentally misunderstood him as a character and turned him into something he wasn't. idk

allura. she lost her ENTIRE FAMILY her ENTIRE CULTURE her ENTIRE SPECIES and it doesn't stop there lol !!!! over the course of the show she lost LITERALLY EVERYTHING. the castle of lions (the last remnant of her home), her tiara thingie (last thing she had left of her family), AND her life. what the fuuuck what the fuck. EVEN WITH the other alteans w romelle's group, allura still got discarded. like idk. she grieved her whole people and tried so hard to lead this resistance and then after she's grown so much and become a powerful leader and warrior she becomes queen of new altea. that would have been SO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

matt. he was alone in space for YEARS. like its unclear how long it was between shiro saving him from the arena and pidge finally finding him, but it was at LEAST a year, probably longer. he was a prisoner for most of that time, separated from the only two people he knew, and likely thinking they're both dead. no way to be rescued. no way to escape. and THEN when he IS rescued by the rebels, he's alone still because he's the only human!!! none of them can speak his language!!! he can't go home!!!! and ofc he fights the galra as part of the resistance and is this badass rebel leader but the show doesn't shed ANY light on how he got there. how he turned from nerdy little scientist to badass rebel leader in a space war. and just. idk. there was barely ANY matt screentime and there was so much wasted potential there

and i could keep going. i could have an essay for every single character. but alas i am sooo fucking sleepy so i must cap it here </3

[ctheathy]

You think tails in something about Knuckles could be the man himself, sh tails? Just makes sense lol at this point.

I would certainly say he has the potential! Especially when bringing up the well known “What are friends for?” comment and the eerily doubtful behaviour he has given us so far. Specifically concentrating on the scene that indicates he wants the last bit left of Sonic dead, and even acting strangely confident in the matter; it feels very out of character and detached from his persona, as this is Miles we’re talking about here.

But while the implications have been pretty high so far, I’m not exactly convinced just yet. The suspect has already been quite on the popular side among the fanbase, but it lacks debate in my opinion. Many of the discussions I’ve read really seem to take everyone’s word for it, despite the only implied confirmation up until this point being Tails’ catchphrase being used and slight off-putting behaviour in his case. Just placing Secret History Tails as another impersonator would also honestly leave out much of Mashed’s complexity when it comes to their writing.

And right at the same time, a part of me still believes and secretly hopes that it is in fact, not Secret History Tails. Mainly to prevent missing out on storyline opportunities that would go to complete waste otherwise, but also due to it being excellent manipulation torwards the audience. The main issue to me is that we’re clearly being influenced here, the lines that are meant to bring doubt feel forced, and it’s very much possible our suspicions with Tails are exactly what Mashed wants us to think ...

[mickgaydolenz]

do you remember in an interview when Peter said that Davy had a great rock n roll voice but kind of passed it off because he was more of the theater type? ive been really thinking about it.

and im thinking about it cause i usually am of the habit of moving on from songs after like halfway or a little over halfway (i have easily bored disorder its terminal doc). but because i was driving and had my monkees playlist playing i was listening to She Hangs Out — arguably my favorite Davy song ever — and actually listened to it from start to finish for once… PHEWW. my heart fluttered in a way i haven’t felt in forever when hearing that little British man grrI can’t finish this sentence thats way too horny but my point is that Peter wasn’t lying girl he knew what was up 🫢 and it was WASTED POTENTIAL TOO!!!!!!!!!!!

KALE FUCKING PREACH DUDE!!!!! honest to god the monkees on the whole were misused (in more ways than one). so many missed opportunities for all of them. this reminds me of when peter (or was it mike??? god my monkees mind is failing me….) said that davy would have also been much better on the drums because he could keep time really well. and then that would have allowed for micky be a true frontman for the group (which honest to god makes way more sense to me). it really does make you think though about what could have been……..

[thebookpandemonium]

Book Review - The Never King - Nikki St. Crowe

Rating: ✭✭

I have seen this book dozens of times, on bookstagram, on booktok, on goodreads, on storygraph. It was everywhere. And now I know why.

Spoilers incoming, be aware!

The Never King is the first book in a dark Peter Pan retelling, which now consists of four books. It was written by Nikki St. Crowe and it follows Winnie Darling, Peter Pan and some Lost Boys.

Synopsis:

Winnie Darling is set to be kidnapped by Peter Pan on her 18th birthday. Or so, she is told by her mother, who according to legend has been kidnapped by Peter Pan as well, same as all the Darling-women that came before her, dating back to the Original Darling: Wendy! However, Winnie is a bit sceptical about the whole affair, as her mother always has been a bit unstable and, dare I say, insane.

But, Peter Pan does come for her, and everything she believed to be madness, suddenly become true. Peter and his Lost Boys hold many secrets, and they believe Winnie somehow can help Peter Pan and Neverland from the fading magic. A tumultuous time is unleashed on Winnie, together with several good-looking young men. A recipe for disaster if you ask me.

Review:

This book had so much potential. So much! I mean, dark retelling, Peter Pan, good looking Lost Boys, sign me up! However, this book was somewhat underwhelming... From the first moment I started reading the book, I disliked Winnie. She felt one dimensional, shallow and obsessed with s*x. However, I was willing to accept that because I was here for Peter Pan and the Lost Boys. Sadly, they turned out to be nothing better than Winnie Darling.

I mean, there was a plot somewhere. However, it was completely covered in smut, which is truly a missed opportunity, if you ask me. However, Nikki St. Crowe did pull my interest and is more or less forcing me to read the sequel to this literary fantasy p*rn book, which I must admit is very clever of her, haha.

See, there is this Lost Boy, Vane, and he is very mysterious, dark and twisty, violent and all things wrong. He is the only one without a POV, and though there is some discussion about who and what he is, still there is a lot left that will keep you guessing. So, I want to know more about this creeper. Winnie, Peter Pan, Bash and Kas are all mweh, smut-obsessed and semi-boring. But Vane, the man without a POV is the hidden force of this book, I'm sure.

So, to summarize:

✅ The Peter Pan world full of magic and all we ever wanted from Neverland: Mermaids, Pirates, Faeries, you name it, they have it!

✅ It's definitely a lot darker than OG Peter Pan

✅ Mysterious, but highly interesting character, Vane

✅ A plot which has a lot of potential, which can still lead to a nice sequel with an epic fantasy plot

💢 Too much smut

💢 One-dimensional smut-obsessed main characters

💢 Smut without sufficient reason behind it, which showers over the plot that could have been nice

💢 There is fast pace, and there is Formula 1 pace. This is Formula 1 pace. Take the time to get to know the characters, man...

And I know, I complain about the smut. I despise the smut. And I know that the so-called 'spice' is the main reason people read these books, but it so sad to sell it as a 'Peter Pan retelling', while you could have used some random names for a random fantasy-driven plot and still you would have ended up with the same thing. I read Peter Pan retellings, because I loved Peter Pan as a child, and now I want to enjoy it as an adult. And I really don't mind spice, I like it in most books, as long as it makes sense.

In the current setting of the book, the characters have turned in to s*x-obsessed beasts, which is a waste of the characters as well. All of them, especially Winnie, could have been amazing characters, if she would not have said 'I don't care, I love having s*x', at least a dozen times. And if not every POV of her would be her thirsting over not one, but four men. Get a grip, woman!

Anyway, I am set to read the sequel. I was told it would get better, less smut-driven and all that, so who knows! To be continued.

-S.

[senstless]

Splinterlands SOCIAL MEDIA CHALLENGE - Show casing Bronze Cards taking down Silver level!

Featuring Bronze League Summoner and Monsters in Action!

The Matchup - Where Rules Sets, Splinters and Mana Collide

The Rule Sets

Watch the Match Here

MANA: 28

Ruleset: Standard: No modification to the standard gameplay rules and mechanics.

SPLINTERS: Water, Earth, Life, Death, Dragon

Initial Rule Set and Mana Gameplay Thoughts

Rulesets Not much to talk about here, standard rule set doesn't have anything that requires additional thought or planning. It isn't really any changed cards becoming more powerful, or having a bigger weakness that needs to be considered. It should be a none of that for this matchup

Mana Honestly I remember a time where 28 felt like a big mana, but no it actually starts to feel small and constrained. I think I'm getting used to playing so many higher man of cards today feel like I need somewhere in the range of 38 to 50 to feel like I can get my optimal items in. 28 should still be high enough to allow almost any approach, the only truly limiting that's going to be done is on ultra high mana cost cards, anything over 10 will be difficult, and actually likely to create a disadvantage

Splinters Splinters are almost wide open just missing fire. Fire would be a great one to play in this rule said considering how powerful it's sneak and opportunity lineups can be in the sub 30 mana cost matches. Otherwise there's plenty of options in all the other splinters to put together

Summoner THADDIUS BROOD My go-to summoner when I'm playing against a potential Earth line up and I am not playing Earth. That negative one health and negative one magic is a really nice combination

First Position CURSED WINDEKU Hard to beat a decent melee card that has thorns in first position. Sometimes the thorns don't come into play while other times it can be a game changer on its own

Second Position VENARI MARKSRAT I wanted to boost any cards that I could potentially. I was hoping for an opportunity attack or potentially a snipe attack to help give it a boost to both my first and third position

Third Position RIFTWING Riftwing is a great play here after it gets weaponed trained for three arrow damage. It is potential to give boosted for both speed health and the damage if things go correctly for me. I love having a car that adds health via scavenger plus has a higher speed and flying which means it's likely to get missed a couple of times

Fourth Position ZYRIEL That wasn't sure when I first bought this card instead of to use it but weapons training is my approach in 70% of matches. The ability to add High attack volume to otherwise not attacking cards that tend to have higher health or armor for their mana cost is a no-brainer

Fifth Position CLOCKWORK AIDE Love this card. There's very few sneak magic cards so it provides a great rear tank, boosts everyone's speed, and has seven armor for those opportunity and sneak attackers to get through while delivering three arrow damage it's going to pick up in weapons training

Sixth Position CORPSE FIEND I thought it was likely that I'd be going against sneak so why not put this here just to have one more attack get wasted before reducing my armor

Opponent Lineup & Match Play

Summoner HELIOS MATRIARCH Interesting play, and not one that I used too much. It's biggest benefit is that it can summon those Gladius cards. If you take note it is a level 5, which aligns with silver decks and above I believe.

BAAKJIRA While only a level 1, it's void plus slow and 11 health makes it very devastating. After getting weapons trained it's going to be a heavy hitter as well. I feel fortunate now to have thorns in first position

KULU MASTERMIND Really a great card. Opportunity, high speed high health and high damage plus weapons training means it's really going to help turn my opponents line up into a heavy hitting mainly attacker

VRUZ Great card at this level. At the level I have it it doesn't have martyr but now that it does it's going to provide a nice boost to the surrounding cards when it gets knocked out

ISGALD VORST

One of the least favorite cards to see when my opponents lineup gets revealed. It is a real juggernaut with high-speed, damage, armor and decent health with opportunity and bloodbust. That combination means it's likely to be adding stats via bloodlust early and often. If it gets boosted with murder as well it could be really hard to take out

Round 1

Round one starts off and while I have six monsters versus only four they definitely have the upper hand in speed. They go ahead and get the first three attacks gone before I even get a chance. I lose all my armor on clockwork and also lose corpse fiend. As my turn comes around I do deal out some heavy hits and knock out Baakjira before finishing the round by taking the majority of mastermind's health.

Round 2

Round two starts off looking good for me. I quickly knock out Mastermind leaving them only to monsters. Vruz as quickly knocked out providing a martyr boost to Osgald Vorst. Things look like they're turned into my favor but Vorst knocks out cursed Wendeku and triggers bloodlust. This translates into one missed by the end of the round. It currently has six melee damage 7 speed and 6 health left. It will be attacking first the rest of the match and dealing significant damage.

Round 3

Around 3 starts off with it Knocking out Markscrat triggering a blood loss for both sides. I get very lucky in this round and I manage back-to-back hits that take away the armor and drop his health down to four. I was only a 50%, followed by a 40% chance to hit so the fact that I head back to back was a huge break in my favor, and I need to give the RNG got a hug

Round 4

It has almost enough melee damage to take out rift water at 13 health but it misses its attack even with its greater speed due to flying ability on wristwatcher. That small Miss chance really was powerful. I continued to run good as both of my attacks hit yet again. The stats are the same it was a 50/50, followed by a 40% chance to hit. I know I've been on the other side of these screaming at the RNG on why it hates me and wants me to lose the match. It clearly could have gone a different direction.

If my opponent managed to hit riftwatchers and drop its health down to five, while evading to attacks I believe I'm likely to lose this match given the speed differentials and the fact that it will trigger blood loss and add armor each time which requires a hit to clear before reducing health.

Thoughts - and Chances to Win Again

Well I'm happened to win this match, I'm not so convinced it had to do with my lineup being better as it did my opponent being fairly unlucky for consecutive hits when my mis percentage was so high. I will probably likely to select the exact same lineup if given the opportunity again, I just think that it is a higher probability that I lose more than half the matches if I ran this 100 times.

~~@senstless

[cyoc49]

A Good Man is Easy to Make

I’ve always been the optimistic type. I believe that even society’s worst troublemakers have the potential for goodness buried somewhere within them. It’s a matter of understanding where someone has come from, and where they need to get to for their betterment.

…And of course if I’m able to help them along that path, I always do!

Last week I was walking home after work. As I passed by Miss Minnie’s Pie Shop, a beloved local bakery, I noticed some shadowy figures down the alley to the side. They didn’t notice me as I approached them, but as I got closer I could tell there was 3 men, all roughly college age. Eventually I could see what they were doing: vandalizing the building with obscene graffiti.

Well this was simply shameful! And a prime example of the vagrancy that’s so rampant in our world today. I saw a problem, and by god was I going to fix it.

I cleared my throat, letting the delinquents know I was there. They stopped spraying for long enough to turn and look at me, with confusion followed by pity for the idiot who thought he could win a 1 on 3 fight. Of course, I had no intentions of physically stopping them. Instead I just asked them one simple question:

“Is this really the best you can be?”

In an instant countenance on their faces changed from anger to shock. I knew a pit of worry was now forming in their stomachs, as if their bodies felt something was deeply wrong. Humans have a second nature for detecting threats, but rather than an immediate threat, these boys were feeling a historical threat: a realization of every single poor path they had previously been led down, every wrong decision they had made that had led them to the point where they were vandalizing an old woman’s bakery. And as soon as their bodies realized what was wrong, they lurched to correct the errors. I saw them writhe and contort; they were undergoing the overwhelming but not painful experience of their pasts changing, course correcting every wrong decision into a right one, leading them down the one perfect path that would make them the best possible versions of themselves.

By the time they finished, the three men who stood before me were unrecognizable compared to the wastes they had been before. They now appeared to be far more agreeable fellows.

First was Charlie, the former ringleader of the group. He had grown up in a religious household, with parents who went to church every Sunday. But at the point at the point in time where he had previously refused to go to church and eventually joined a group of rebels in his neighborhood, Charlie instead eagerly embraced the weekly tradition. He loved his Church’s local community and all the good people he met just as much as he loved the sermons & scriptures. He took every opportunity to give back to those in need through service groups & events. Charlie believed in the inherent goodness of people, and used his church community as a personal touchstone to the community at large.

Outside of church, he was one of the most sociable and outgoing people on his college campus. He made a point to know as many people as he could on a first name basis, and people left conversations with Charlie feeling a lot better about themselves. He continued to stay active through several extracurriculars: campus ministry, track & field, choir, and Beta Rho Omega, a fraternity for the most upstanding men on campus. He was the guy everyone got along with… as long as you didn’t mind that he was also the kind of guy who brought his guitar along to every event and retreat.

Charlie was the perfect friend, always encouraging and friendly, though he cared especially for his two best friends. The three were essentially joined at the hip, always volunteering together and supporting each other’s events.

Next was Eddie, now known as Eckworth. Whereas Eddie had always had a taste for music with vulgar lyrics, at a young age Eckworth had discovered a love of reading, which ignited a curiosity for knowledge in him ever since. He had always been the brightest student in his classes, which had (along with his participation in crew) taken him to Princeton on a full ride scholarship. He was studying neurology and one day hoped to go to medical school to become a brain surgeon; his 4.0 and multiple medical internships certainly helped with that. He shared his gift of knowledge with other students when they needed it, helpful but not cocky, and was effectively a tutor for his brothers in Beta Rho Omega.

Raised in Cape Cod, Eckworth was unwaveringly polite and well-mannered, with an old money charm about him. He may be the only college student with a mahogany bookcase in his dorm room, filled to the brim with classic literature, physics texts, science periodicals, and all sorts of other intellectually stimulating reads. He took care to look & dress sharp every time he left the house, allowing his body be another outlet for the intelligence and class he felt inside. There’s no doubt Eckworth was one of the finest young men you’d ever meet.

And finally Thompson, the definition of “Mr. All American”. He had grown up in a small town in Vermont, and in a past life had even run away from that town in favor of living on the streets with a shady group. But Thompson would never do that. He always helped his ma & pa on their orchard growing up, while also trying hard in his local high school and serving as captain of his football team. By the time Thompson moved to the big city for college, he was a hometown hero, doubly so when he was named MVP of Princeton’s football team in his junior year. Outside of this he studied business management and agricultural science, hoping to take the family orchard to new heights one day, and maybe even eventually start a loving family of his own.

He had a small town charm laced with a kind humility, the kind of man who just wanted to make his ma proud. He was a natural charmer to women (and a few fellas too), and always offered a helping hand to his fraternity brothers, especially his two best buds. When he wasn’t at the gym keeping himself in peak physical shape, he was out immersing himself in nature. Whether it was a hike through the forest or a trip to the oceanside, Thompson loved to feel as one with the earth. One time he had even convinced the boys to come out camping with him. For as much as he kept his appearance clean, he had a strong rugged spirit.

Together the trio brought out the best in each other: Charlie offering charisma and leadership, Eckworth providing a voice of reason, and Thompson boosting their confidence and work ethic. They embodied the refined charm of New England, and were model gentlemen. A complete 180 from- well that doesn’t matter now. Let’s let bygones be bygones and pretend those old fellows never existed at all. I like these ones much better, don’t you agree?

As I faced the new upstanding men, they once again stared at me , though this time with much more warmth in their gazes. They helped Miss Minnie out around her shop every Thursday, keeping the premises tidy and organized. They were taking out the garbage when I had run into them.

Charlie offered a pleasant greeting in my direction “Hello there sir! Hope your day is going well.”

“Indeed” Eckworth chimed in with his hands clasped behind his back, “it’s such a pleasant day today.”

I concurred, “complete agreement, good sirs. I hope Miss Minnie is treating you well.”

“Oh, it’s always a pleasure working for her.” Thompson offered with a hearty laugh. “She always offers us goods at the end of the day. She’s really as sweet as apple pie!”

I smiled “She sure is”

I wished them a great day, and headed out on my way after receiving a near-simultaneous chorus of “you too, sir!” from them. I walked away from the scene happy that the world was now a slightly better place. As I said, everyone has the potential for greatness in them, and it is an honor of mine to help them achieve that greatness. I silently hoped another troublesome situation would arise on my way home, so I could continue to keep my community upstanding. After all, a good man may be hard to find, but he sure is easy to make.

[cinnamonest]

Yandere Profile - Link (Legend of Zelda)

ABSOLUTELY YES. MY BOY. LOVE OF MY LIFE.

As some of you may know, today is the release date of Skyward Sword HD for Switch!! So I decided to release this one now in honor of that :3

NOTES:

I went towards the idea of a Princess!reader because that just opens the gate for sooooo much potential. I'm leaning heavily towards the ZeLink interactions in BoTW and Skyward Sword just because those games have the most interaction between the two.

Also! This is great bc it gives me the opportunity to explore an idea I've actually had a long time! I've always thought about how many opportunities there have been across the games for Link and Zelda to be kinda like "haha well seeya later" and just... bolt, run away from everything, abandon their roles and responsibilities and all that. Like, if OoT kid Link got her before Ganon did and ran, if SS Link just decided to get her on the bird and bolt before everything went down, if botw Link was just like haha what if we ran away from everything together... jk... unless...?

And final note, Link is a great pick for the very traditional yandere -- sweet and : ) but can snap into darker personas. I really liked writing this bc I tend to have more self centered yans and less of the "worships the ground you walk on" type of yans like I think Link would be, so it's a nice change.

As usual now the nsfw section is divided by a ---- line.

TWs: fem reader, heavily implied Zelda!reader, stalking, murder, very brief mentions of gore/dismemberment of rivals, manipulation, very brief suicide mention, themes of reincarnation (I’ve been told this can be triggering to some people so just in case)

TWs (nsfw section): noncon, somnophilia

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

Severity Scale

Intelligence/Perceptiveness: 4 Brutality: 8.5 Physical capability: 8 Mental/emotional instability: 7 Restrictiveness: 6 Sexual sadism: 5 Stubbornness: 8

What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

The primary trait of Link that any darling -- any person, really -- would notice is that he is, well, quiet. He has always been a man of few words, and really, he often doesn't know exactly what to say. On his own, at a first glance, he really does seem like a gentle, humble spirit, someone who blends into the background pretty well, who isn't particularly prideful or reckless or aggressive.

Which is why, to be honest, he might sort of evade the gaze of most people -- he doesn't stand out. You remember him as the boy that smiled at you now and then, it's a soft, gentle sort of smile, one that you feel conveys nothing but the utmost innocence and contentment with the world. You know he's pretty good at fighting, but doesn't get into fights needlessly, he's accomplished and respected, but has never been the guy everyone is talking about -- he's in the background, against the wall. Never speaking, always looking out, sometimes at the sky, sometimes carefully watching people. Sometimes you see him, gaze blank and tranquil, and wonder what he's thinking about. Whether he's the village boy in the time of Twilight, the trained and honored warrior that slept for many years, the boy that came down from the sky -- you can't help but feel at ease around him, safe, you can't help but find him endearing and pleasant.

Yet, you always seem to notice him. Other people... forget he exists, sometimes, he's so quiet. You never do, for whatever reason.

When he needs to get something across, he prefers to express himself through actions, not words. If you lived in Skyloft, or Ordon village, you might find problems mysteriously solved, work suddenly done that you don't remember doing. That fencepost outside your home that broke has been replaced overnight. A village child went missing and he comes back a few hours later with them in tow. Always humble, never demanding or expecting thanks, he tells you in his quiet voice that he's happy to help you.

And should you ever ask him for anything, he'll drop whatever he's doing to help. Anything for you, he says with a smile, which makes you feel a bit guilty when, honestly, you're not even sure you're remembering his name right.

And yet, sometimes, you feel so at ease around him it seems unnatural. He seems so easy to trust. You feel like you've known him forever. And sometimes you feel... for just a split second, less at ease. You find yourself randomly stiffening at his calm, sweet voice. You find yourself looking around when you're alone, as if you feel someone is there, and for some reason, his face flashes through your mind. Sometimes when he looks at you, you feel sort of cold. It's almost like invoking a memory you don't have, like some kind of learned instinct you can't recall a reason for. But those moments are fleeting, they come and go before you can even process them, replaced by warmth and comfort.

If you do spend time with him, if you find yourself gazing out your window when he's training, the next thing you notice besides him being quiet and sweet is that he's strong. It's almost ironic, how all the other knights or village boys are so aggressive and rowdy all the time, many of them taller or bulkier, and yet, none of them could ever dream of defeating Link. Not one can match his agility, speed, prowess. Such a pleasant, calm person, with so much skill, strength, and power, but that power is so rarely seen exerted. People marvel at his talent, they say it's as if he has the experience of lifetimes and lifetimes of battle in his blood.

And it's why you feel at ease when he's assigned the task of guarding you. His capabilities are unmatched, and yet you'd never fear any harm to you from him. Both of those traits put together make him the best candidate to protect you.

Of course, you do find yourself doing most of the talking. Sometimes you find yourself rambling to fill the silence, and you fear you're annoying him, but when you stop he raises an eyebrow and asks why you got so quiet. Did he do something wrong? He seems to worry about that a lot -- has he done something bad? Has he made you upset? Are you mad? At first you think he's worried about his position security, but after a while you realize he genuinely worries about it.

And when you do continue your ramblings, you're surprised to find he remembers your words -- every little thing you say. Things you don't even remember telling him. He asks you about that relative you mentioned one time, his eyes light up and he walks a bit to the side because look, it's your favorite flower over there, he'll get it for you. It's impressive, really, how he manages to remember such things. He must take his job very seriously.

He does enjoy giving you such things -- he loves giving you gifts. It's usually things he finds, wholesome little things -- makes a crown out of the flowers you like so much, finds something interesting here or there, while he was off-duty he saw something in the markets he thought you'd like and got it for you. You almost feel guilty, it's so constant that he's giving you things.

Sometimes you ask him about himself, you realize he knows so much about you and you so little about him. He blushes, he rubs the back of his head, he insists there's nothing interesting about him, he wouldn't waste your time like that. It takes time to get him out of his shell, but eventually, he tells you this or that, little stories from his life.

Sometimes you take long walks, you like to get out of the stuffy walls and have fun outside, he accompanies you across Hyrule. Sometimes it feels familiar, you pass places you've never been that give you a feeling of nostalgia, deja vu, a sense that you've been here before.

He’s protectiveness incarnated. Insanely so. He can spring to his feet at a moment's notice and deals with anything that comes for you before they can even get close.

It makes you feel safe, but there's something else there. It's a ferocity that is so contrasting to his normal self, different even from the times you've seen him fight as he trains. It's a glint in the eyes, an aggression in his expression, that almost makes him seem like a different person. And it lingers for a moment, once the creature is dead and his sword hand falls to his side, he turns and glances at you to his side, a hand raised to wipe the blood off his face, and for that lingering second, it's still there, his blank expression and wide eyes -- a ferocity so intense it starts to look like bloodlust, chaos, destruction. And then, it's as if you imagined it. Smiling and telling you it's gone now, you're ok. You're glad he's so truly devoted.

In fact, he's so dedicated to his job that he starts... doing it... outside of his job hours...? Well, today he was given the day off, and you were told to stay inside because you didn't have to go out. He comes knocking on your door, says not to be startled if you hear someone outside your door move or shift or anything, but he just wanted to let you know in case. He'll be right here. Keeping watch. So don't worry. You're safe.

And likewise, he was supposed to have a day off when you were supposed to enter the town. You were assigned two other guards to watch you, since it's a special trip, so you're surprised to find just Link waiting for you. He took care of it, he says, he didn't feel right leaving your safety up to someone else, he doesn't trust them. So they agreed to let him take over for today.

All of this said, he doesn't have to grow alongside you, he doesn't have to be the childhood friend, the knight who guards you. He doesn't even have to have met you. Fate works in odd ways like that. There's a sort of inexplicable instant attachment he takes to you, almost as though it's some kind of destined, divinely inspired sort of thing. He would describe it as saying you feel familiar to him.

He's also, notably, prone to a more traditional trope of what you might call humility whiplash. For the most part, he's got that overly humble, worshipping, "I don't deserve to even stand in your presence" sort of mentality. However, although it's rare and requires a lot of wearing down his mental state, if pushed far enough, he can have brief moments where he snaps into more or less the complete opposite -- entitlement, arrogance, aggression, getting mad at you for the behavior he'd normally take with a smile on his face. Thankfully, unlike some yanderes that have a whole snapping episode towards their darling, his are very very brief, usually only a matter of seconds or a single snarled sentence before he snaps back to normal, wide-eyed and apologetic and telling you I don't know what came over me. It’s... a little frightening to say the least, but you blow it off, tell yourself that hey, everyone has moments like that... Right?

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

For the most part, he doesn't need it, he can pretty easily cling to your side well enough to be assured of your safety, and he manages to scare off the undesirables not with a glare, but a smile that's just a little too sweet and far too persistent -- it unnerves people. You hear a lot of people say that something about that guy rubs me the wrong way. Or that he gives me goosebumps for some reason. Even the people he scares away themselves can't pinpoint exactly what it is, all they know is that, despite being reputed as kind and quiet (and maybe a little dense), somehow a lot of people agree that something about him puts people at unease, and that's all he needs. Because they stay away from him, and if he’s by your side all the time, that means they stay away from you too. Why keep you trapped when you can just be isolated?

An aware Link is a a unique scenario. One scenario that's rather... interesting to imagine is a Link that defies fate itself, a Link that decides to be selfish in one of those rare snapping moments of his. Perhaps he makes a decision when everything starts going down, when the chaos is beginning, or perhaps he has somehow managed to gain knowledge of the bigger picture at work, the reality of the nature of your existence and his.

Perhaps he begins to think it's unfair. To suffer again and again. To prove himself again and again, and not always even to reap any benefits, to work so hard and yet still -- still -- you slip out of his grasp. He longs for a life with no tribulations, no struggle, no fights to be fought. He begins to feel like it's what he wants the most. He begins to feel like maybe it's what he deserves. So many lifetimes of struggles, if the higher powers won't give him a reward, he'll take it himself.

And perhaps, for all their higher power, not even the great goddesses themselves would have ever predicted it -- humans are ultimately creatures of will. To defy fate and to run away from destiny -- it wouldn't be the first time a human has tried such a thing. Sure, Hyrule may be destroyed. The people may all die. There may be nothing left. But you know what? He's stopped caring. If you're alive and he's alive, tucked away in your little corner of the world where you've found respite, well, that's all he needs. Even if you're on the run from forces that would want to find you, even if the threat of the final third of the triforce owner looms over your head. He'll ignore it, he'll look away.

You'll live a quiet little life together, a happy life without suffering, without quests and enemies, without strife, without worry. That's what he tells you when he steals you away, lifts you out of your bed one night. Says to be quiet, there's danger outside your door, he's rescuing you. You have no reason to not believe him. He waits until things go down, a castle under siege, but rather than taking you to where you're supposed to go, he climbs onto the horse and starts... riding away. It gets further and further into the distance, and you might ask why, what's going on? You have a job to do, he has a battle to be fought. But he says you're going far, far away, someplace you'll be safe.

But what about the divine beasts, the seals, the Twilight, whatever threat runs in this world in this time, what about the threat of Ganon, you ask? He says it doesn't matter anymore. You were doomed to fail, he thinks, it's either stay here and die, or run away. All that matters is you. And he'd like you to feel the same way for him. You will with enough time, don't worry.

He just wants this happy, quiet life with you that he’s been denied time and time again. It’s all he wants. If fate won’t give it to him, he’ll make it happen himself, and carve out the life he is determined to have, defying even the will of higher power.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape? 

He gets it. Really, he does. "Stop following me!" You yell. Well, he understands why you might feel that way, but this is kinda his job. He thinks you're naive. Not that he would ever, ever have a thought that you're imperfect, of course! It's because you're so perfect and pure that you're... less aware of the dangers all around.

He'll let you think you're free, perhaps. He's more than capable of being quiet, quiet is kind of his thing. Watching you from a short distance is easy. Of course, his horse might make a noise, he can't really help that, or he might misstep on a branch or something. And then you turn around and get all mad again. Now you're even more angry. Well, he can also tell your guardians/father, who will encourage you to accept it. You can't help but feel a little bad -- he's just doing his job.

Now, our aware, runaway Link, well, does he really need to keep you restrained? What would you go back to? Certain death, a land destroyed? Sometimes you mention home, and he's quick to remind you that home doesn't exist anymore. His home is where you are. Can't you feel the same way? You found peace here in this little place -- a village far far away. Travelers, you call yourselves. What's the point in going elsewhere? How would you ever survive without him? He's not very good at being subtle or skillful about the psychological manipulation, it's obvious he's trying to scare you into not leaving, but... it still works, because really, he has a point.

He doesn't want to have to use physical restraint, in any case. And for the most part, it's not needed, because one important aspect of your relation is that his job kinda revolves around you (in some incarnations), or, perhaps you live in the same little village, but either way the thing is that his presence does the job well enough -- he's always there, perhaps more so than almost any other yandere. Even when you think you've managed to get away from him for a moment, somehow his face pops up out of nowhere. How he manages to pull it off is a mystery, you swear he manages to find you so well and predict your movements it's inhuman.

But if you really, really pose a problem, a smarter and sneakier darling that somehow manages to keep slipping out of his grasp and running off (you never get away for more than about 20 minutes or so, but nonetheless), you keep trying to run off when he's sleeping (he wakes up in approximately 25 seconds if your presence is absent from the bed, but that's still enough time to run out the front door), every time he turns his head (which isn't often) you're trying to disappear... well, in that case, he can reach a point of deciding more straightforward measures are necessary. He hates to do it, really, at least when he's not yet at a snapping point. But it's for your own good. And he says so, quite apologetically.

But it's not so bad, it's not like you're being chained to a wall or anything. For one, he got leather ties so you'd be more comfortable, but more importantly, as your guardian, he figured the best thing for you to be tied to would be... himself. Think of it like friendship bracelets! It's just... got a 5-foot chain connecting them. This way you can't sneak off at night, and you won't get too far when he's distracted. It's a safety measure.

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

He's a learner. At first, it's easy. Honestly, he is a rather naive, gullible boy, sometimes he reminds you of a happy dog with his bright eyes. He likes to believe the best of people, give them the benefit of the doubt in all circumstances, and that goes double for you, who he believes can do no wrong.

And even when you do lie to him, it's still not wrong. You didn't do anything bad. Clearly there has simply been a misunderstanding, and you thought you had to lie. Or perhaps you simply forgot a detail or were confusing something with something else. It wasn't malicious on your end, he knows that.

He's actually significantly smarter than he lets on in practical knowledge, though. Those dungeon puzzles pay off, you know? He's got pattern recognition down. So over time he learns how to distinguish when you're lying to him or attempting to deceive him, and sees through it increasingly well.

And yet, he doesn't really... get mad over it, most of the time. Again, he's just capable of deluding himself into believing there's a reason. He believes so strongly in your goodness that he finds a way to interpret everything you do as out of benevolence. So you snuck out the window and didn't tell him you were going for a walk because you just wanted to get away from his suffocating presence for once? You were just thinking of him. You didn't want to burden him and wanted to give him a break. Well, that's thoughtful, but don't worry, he doesn't need a break. He thinks it's precious you're so considerate of him though!

You don't tell him you were talking to that person, and you lie and say no when he asks, because you don't want him to worry, and because you underestimate how dangerous others can be. He's told you a million times and you don't listen, but that's ok, it's because you're just so pure you see the best in everyone. Everything you do is good.

Because he perceives your lies, he will still work against and around it. He won't confront you on your lies, he'll just make sure to deal with the situation -- you lied about sneaking out, well, he'll just keep watch and be ready to meet you outside next time. You lied about talking to a person, well, he'll just have to make sure they stay away from you instead.

If you're trying to trick him, he just plays along until necessary. Smiles and nods. He gets the suspicion you're planning a break-out when he told you he was leaving to go get something from town... rather than saying so, he just decides, you know what? Why don't you come with him? Oh, you're feeling sick, you tell him it's ok, go without you? Well, he can't leave you alone then! Because you're clearly not and just trying to get him to leave... or, as he says, he can't just leave you alone. He'll go another day.

He's fairly manipulable when it comes to praise and affection. You can easily Pavlov him into certain behaviors or patterns with just the slightest words of praise and affection. He's not a very outwardly expressive person, tends to stay quiet, but you can tell how he feels inside when you give the slightest praise, a hug, a kiss on the cheek -- you can see that soft hint of a smile and tell that inside, he's basically melting, even if it's not obvious to most people. And, much like the lying, he’s honestly often aware of it, but he just can’t help it.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

He tries to get you the things that he feels will make you happy. Your happiness is incredibly important to him, and he usually thinks about how any action he plans to take might affect you, spends a lot of time debating choices of things to do or say and try to determine how each one will affect you and choose accordingly.

As such, he goes out of his way to support the things you want to do. Have a hobby? He'll find the best materials available. Want a book or a food? He'll obtain it through some means. Even if procuring it involves a side-quest-y set of mundane tasks or scouring the world for 70 of this and 50 of that to exchange it for the item from an obscure specialist, it's all worth it.

The only thing he just doesn't give up on is the constant vigilance and insistence on being by your side more or less every waking second. And every sleeping second. And just every single moment you're alive. It's for your safety.

This is actually one of the things he can get a little nasty about when it comes to how he deals with it, because he quickly has the bright idea that if you don't get it, he'll make you understand. Of course, he can't actually risk you getting hurt, so he stages it. Allows you to sneak off, or at least think you have, and walk right into the path of those monsters he lured, or the people he hired to intimidate you. Of course, it's only natural that he shows up at the last possible second, right on time to save you. You should expect that, after all, it's his responsibility to protect you, of course fate works out perfectly like this. See, he was right, it's so dangerous, and without him you'd be dead. Hopefully you grasp that now.

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

His is mostly related to vigilance. Where are you? Who have you been talking to? Who was that person you were talking with just now? What did they say? He's not nosy. He just cares about you. It’s in the job description. You ought to understand just how much certain bad people would love to find you and hurt you. That's why he has to know.

This isn't our modern world, so there's no phones or tracking devices to speak of, just himself, which, well, might as well be a tracking device since he never seems to have difficulty finding you. Sometimes you're not sure how he does it.

He tells you that you don't have to be with him 24/7, but you will be, even if you don't realize it. He's aware enough to know that you'll feel suffocated and get mad if you're aware of his presence all the time, so he gives you your "alone" time, aka, the "follow her quietly from a 20+ foot distance" time. It all feels the same to you. Well, sometimes you feel eyes on you, but you shake the feeling off as paranoia.

So it's not so much that he sets rules and reacts when they're broken, but rather, he works his way around anything you might do so well that he doesn't need you to follow his rules, or really, you take them more as suggestions. But honestly, that's kind of worse. It's enough to drive a darling to the brink of a mental breakdown very quickly. With Link you will inevitably become paranoid, nervous, you feel like you're going insane because he manages to pop up everywhere, he always knows what you did when you did it and you have no idea how it is even conceivably possible for him to know some of the things that he knows. He confronts you very plainly and quietly, often sweetly, asking why you did this or that or telling you it's ok, you don't have to hide anything, surely there’s a good reason, and if not, he forgives you anyway. In a way, it's worse than an angry confrontation. You begin to feel like he's omnipresent, like he can read your mind, and it truly takes a mental toll and affect you worse than any normal yandere's concept of punishment.

This ultimately works out well in his favor. The more you just do what he wants, the less it feels like a violation or intrusion that he knows these things, since he was there with you, it makes sense, and you continuously get bent to his will.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

Ah, and thus we get to that brutality rating.

It would be unthinkable to think that any sort of scum would even dare. Even he isn't worthy of being with you, and someone else thinks they could be? So, he more or less views "rivals" as an offense. When they're threats, well, he's allowed to deal with them. When they're not, well... he has a wonderful reputation. If he says he overheard that person planning usurpation or assassination, that they realized he was listening in and wildly attacked him, everyone will believe him. Even if the death seems a little... non-immediate. And uh... frankly... overkill. How exactly... did those limbs get perfectly severed during equally armed combat? And was it... really necessary... to kinda spill entrails all over like that? He'll apologize, of course, he was just so outraged by the thought of someone hurting you or your family, you know? You notice his eye twitches a bit as he says it.

He has a lot of... bottled up frustrations, which we'll touch on in the nsfw section as well, but it tends to manifest in those two ways: sex and violence. Rather than exerting stress and anger and frustration as it comes, he lets it fester. He tries to maintain being the noble, humble, self-sacrificing person he feels he should be. That is... difficult to do for a long time. People expect a lot from him, even in timelines where he's not necessarily realized as the hero quite yet, he usually has a lot of responsibilities. But then you tack on the whole hero thing? The weight of the world is sometimes, quite literally, on his shoulders. Do you have any idea the kind of stress that comes with that knowledge? It's not pleasant. And it quickly bottles up, a very very fragile bottle set to eventually shatter in a matter of time.

On a longer sort of quest, he just kinda... leaves a trail of destruction in his wake. Enemies don't actually just poof out of existence the way they do on-screen, you know. Anyone coming across an area he's just been through is met with literal piles upon piles of corpses, sometimes monsters, but sometimes people. He takes a very scorched earth sort of policy when it comes to dealing with things.

He's able to easily get close to people, with that sweet face and puppy eyes and lithe body, people don't really feel on guard around him nor intimidated. That makes it significantly easier to infiltrate enemy hideouts, earn favors, and work his way in to be able to commit mass murder more easily. Granted, no one thinks too much of it because they *are* truly enemies, after all, they *did* need to be taken out and well, if the rulers can choose to either send a group of ten soldiers or just one guy and get the job done equally well either way, they'll go with the latter option. No one thinks anything of it, except the occasional person who laughs and says something to the effect of remind me to never get on your bad side, haha! He gives that sheepish, sweet little smile, and jokingly tells them that yeah, better not.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

For you, nearly impossible. For others, at a hair trigger.

For the most part, he conceals anger well until, as aforementioned, it bottles up and bursts. The truth is he gets irritated virtually all the time by other people. People who talk to you. Look at you. Smile at you. He’s actually rather easily annoyed even when you’re not involved, but again, he’s good at hiding it until it builds.

His rage has a commonality with his calm -- it's quiet. At least, at first. When it's directed at others, his eyes narrow. It's the telltale sign that someone has ignited his rage. It burns on the inside, it starts off as a spark that builds and builds and grows larger and larger until it's a blazing fire that consumes everything in his path. It's a loss of composure, a rare moment of complete loss of self-control. From his own perspective, it feels like he's not in control of his own body, it's all a blur happening in front of him and when it's over he's looking down at his own hands, unable to process his own actions, sometimes unable to remember them.

But it's violent, merciless, unforgiving. It does not yield to begging, it does not leave anything alive unless forced to. You remember the first time you realized how unnatural it was, how shocked you were at how he did something that certainly went against the code he was sworn to follow, the very first time you felt truly afraid of Link. It was a walk in town -- someone called out to you, spitting obscenities about you and your family, your lineage, threw something at you -- he caught it in his hand and crushed it, and quickly, without a word, advanced on the offender. And, to make a long story short, you had to prevent him from beating a man to death in public in broad daylight. He was forgiven by his superiors, but even they seemed shocked. You had to pull him off, and when he jerked his head around to look at whatever was stopping him -- before his face softened as he recognized your own face -- the split second you saw the burn of hatred and fury in eyes that were normally so soft and loving, was nothing short of unsettling, you still recall the chill that ran down your spine.

And honestly? It's terrifying. And the first time, it's shocking. Sure, you knew he could fight. You've seen him fight off monsters, bokoblins and lizalfos and the like. But something is different about seeing the blood of a human being run down his sword, dripping onto the ground, to see the bodies and the blank, numb gaze on his features he always has after it's over. The absolute lack of hesitancy he has to run human enemies through before they even have a chance to explain themselves, how unbothered he seems by the carnage left in his wake. The way he turns back to you, drenched in red and smiles, tells you it's ok, you're safe now. There's no need to look so scared.

And it changes how you view him, in the long run. Less of a guardian angel, more of a guardian dog, one that defends your name when you never asked him to. Pleads to tell him not to fall on deaf ears -- you just don't understand why it has to be this way, he says, you can't comprehend the threat they posed. From the sweet boy that leaves you flowers and repairs and instead leaves a wave of destruction in his path you would not have thought possible.

Directed towards you, though, it's entirely different. He tries his best to have patience with you, no matter what. He smiles, he tries to make excuses as to why you'd say this or do that, why you'd feel a certain way, and he's rather good at deluding himself to give you the benefit of the doubt.

But when it reaches an end, when he can no longer lie to himself, when you push it to a point that you truly make him mad, it's more of a snap. The times he'll lay hands on you in a truly violent way are rare, and as aforementioned, very brief. It's usually not so much of actually a blow, so much as a grab. He just can't get what he's trying to tell you through your thick head, so he stresses it, trying to make you understand as he grabs you by the upper arms, shaking you with each word, and he only stops when he sees the pain and fear in your eyes, drawing his hands back at lightning speed. He saves you from some danger very narrowly, one of the few times he lost track of you for a moment and had to frantically search before coming across you being attacked. What would I have done if something happened to you? Don't you understand that? He's so lost in the relief it takes him a moment to feel you beating on his arms in the embrace, choking and wheezing that you can't breathe, that his grip is so tight it feels like he'll snap you in half. He draws back again, and he apologizes, but it will certainly happen more than once.

So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

Above. Like, so, so, so far above. He feels like he doesn't even deserve to look at you. Of course, neither does anyone else, so he's just, you know, stepping up to bear the burden of wrongdoing to keep people even worse than him away from you.

So it's less that you're just above him so much as you're above everyone. He's actually, perhaps surprisingly, a little bit of a pessimist about the world. The world is full of so many terrible people and so many horrible things happen that he's borne witness to. It's a "world cold and hard, (y/n) soft and warm" sort of thing. You're the one good thing, the thing that makes him happy, the ultimate source of comfort he has, and he has to prevent you from being defiled by the evil of the world, keep you innocent and sweet (even if he's just deluding himself to think you are those things in the first place).

This ties into, again, how he interprets every action you take as good and benevolent -- he has the "you can do no wrong" mentality. Even very blatantly malicious things, he'll interpret in a way that makes you somehow still come out a perfect, innocent angel. If you do harm to others, well, they simply deserved it. You did something technically wrong, but you knew no better, or you were desperate. You can't be held responsible for any of it. And if you're mean to him, well, he probably did something to make you upset.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

Sort of a duality. Yes, he's very persistent. He thinks about it all the time. Every time you yell and try to run and hurl nasty insults at him, it hurts far more than you realize. He doesn't let it show on his face or in his voice, but it really does, and it gets to him sometimes. He's hyper observant of every little thing you do, your body language, your tone, the way you look at him, and the slightest of differences can change his mood internally, although it tends to look the same outwardly.

He makes little mental notes of it -- today she didn't flinch when I touched her shoulder. Today she didn't frown when she saw me coming. Little things like that will make his entire day. Likewise, the inverse kills him inside. He aims to make every day one of the former days, where the littlest signs of acceptance or even kindness and affection give him a sort of high that makes him feel like he's floating.

He tries his best to do things that he thinks will, well, earn love. Every opportunity to do something for you, he takes it. Everything he sees he'd think you'd like, he buys (or steals, or... loots from a dead body) for you. On and on that idea goes. And although he doesn't say too much, when he does speak to you, he usually has something nice to say. He views it in a formulaic way -- ironically, think about it like those collectibles in overworlds. You get enough of this or that thing, and once you have enough, you can go talk to this or that person and donate them all and get a reward, right? He's accustomed to viewing things that way. Love should be the same way. If he just completes enough tasks and gathers enough items, eventually he'll unlock your love.

That being said, even if it doesn't happen, much to your despair, he just... doesn't. Give. Up. He doesn't quit. No matter how many times you tell him, it doesn't make a difference. You can tell him you'll never love him, and it's like it goes in one ear and out the other. He keeps trying. And he never, ever, ever stops trying. What did you expect? The boy's been fighting the same enemy over and over across lifetimes, needless to say his spirit has build up some persistence.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

Bonus: Zelda/Triforce of Wisdom Darling

And don't worry. If it all goes wrong, when he fails, those divergences in time where the hero is vanquished and evil wins out -- it's not the end. Somehow, that's the feeling he gets, holding your little lifeless body up, running hands across your cold skin. Somehow, he feels oddly calm. Like it hurts, but it's ok. Like he'll see you again. Maybe not soon, but one day. This time didn't work out. But the next one will.

And that's the feeling you'll always have. Every time you meet him and you feel like you've met before, the lingering memories when you wake from your dreams -- flying through skies and sailing on oceans, a child, an adult, a boy you've never met, or one you've known all your life, but it's always the same face, the same voice, the one right beside you in the waking world. You sometimes wonder if he has the same feelings, the same dreams, the same sense of something greater than yourselves at work, the sense of being just smaller pieces in a much bigger picture.

The sense of permanency, that each other is all there will ever be -- regardless of how it makes you feel, regardless of how that scares you, sometimes you feel like you can never be free. Sometimes, when you think of running away, those dark moments when you think of even escaping from life itself, it feels futile. It's as if you know it would never hold him away forever. As if death is insignificant. Perhaps in this lifetime, you'll become aware of why that is, or perhaps not.

With other obsessive lovers, just the idea of til death do us part is a terrifying thought. But, for Link, not even death can keep him away from you. Your suffering is already determined by the will of higher power, for the sake of a greater good. 

In truth, it’s the goddesses who made him this way intentionally -- it’s designed to ensure your safety, even at the cost of your suffering. Again, for a greater good. Sure, you may live one lifetime to the next desperately locked in the same cycle in which your freedom and will is stripped from you, but in the end, it serves a purpose. 

Nor will he change -- perhaps this one this time is a bit more spirited, more calm, more pessimistic, more optimistic... but in the end, at their core, they're the same soul, with the same will deep, deep down. The same drive to find you and protect you. The same love for you, an all-consuming love that destroys everything in its path to you and leaves ruin in its wake.

And if fate should one day keep you apart, should things change, for whatever reason, it’s unable to change him. There's another force even more powerful than fate determined to keep you together. The only thing more unavoidable, inevitable, and unescapable than fate, is Link himself.

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General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

In moments of passion, he changes a bit, unlike other more submissive yans who stay consistent in their reverence and desire to please.

You see, after a while, being as lenient and tolerant and flexible and completely devoted as he is... constantly self-sacrificing in so many ways, to you, to Hyrule, to the world... some frustrations build up. It's a big, big bottle of emotion, all tucked away and festering, getting greater and greater and eventually it has to explode somehow.

His reservations and inhibitions fall away. Perhaps a darker, more selfish side comes out. Perhaps that's why he's so rough. He knows he'll regret it later, the bruises from how hard he grips, the marks from the bites, but the hormones and the heat takes over. He'll feel bad for defiling you. He'll apologize. And he'll do it again. And again. And again.

But once the resolve crumbles, it topples. That is, he can't partially maintain it -- if it's partially gone, it falls apart completely. He lets go, so to speak. And when he lets go, you find that underneath that carefully constructed resolve and willpower that holds him back, he can be a very, very rough and possessive lover. In his normal state, he wouldn't dare think of you as a possession, or as something he's even worthy of. He would like so, so much to think that, to feel like he's allowed to -- but he doesn't. He chastises himself for even having such a desire. But in those moments, when his resolve is gone and his brain isn't thinking quite too clearly, he might even have to audacity to say "mine." Even if it's not true, not now, maybe it will be. He would like that so much. His and his alone.

And in a moment of clarity, he might even throw away the inhibition on purpose. The more selfish side, the same Link that drags you away from your destiny -- he's already forsaken his responsibilities, hasn't he? Why care anymore about the structures that no longer exist, your status and his, if there's no kingdom left? He likes that it happened, even. This way, this time, you can throw off those titles, those roles. Without your status, your title, there's nothing stopping him from making you his. And you will be his, and nothing more. It's all you need to be. So he doesn't have to care anymore about any of that, he doesn't have to stop himself from going wild. Biting into every little spare patch of skin, covering your body with marks that make him feel comforted to see.

As far as drive it's a bit of a two-sided duality. Outwardly he's not a very sexual person at all, blushes and stutters and averts his gaze at the slightest mention of suggestive topics, tries his best to be Respectful(tm) by always looking away when you're in a compromising position, or your skirt flies up, etc etc. Given how constant his vigilance is, he has a tendency to accidentally walk in on your changing or bathing, except unlike with many yanderes, it's genuinely an accident. Not that the image doesn't stick in his mind, nor does he wish he hadn't gotten to see, but he does feel guilty, and it was genuinely unintentional. He kinda freezes up, so it takes a moment for him to actually snap out of it and run out.

That being said, he quickly develops something of a masturbation addiction when he's younger, it starts as more of a stress reliever than anything, He's so sweet and always feels bad about talking about his problems and feelings, so that and, well, violence are the only ways he can get it out. Thus he learns to channel stress and nerves into sexuality, and once he has a real living body and not just his hand, that dependency on cumming to relieve it doesn't change.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

Particularly so, yes, cares quite a bit. And it takes a while for him to feel comfortable. Even consensually, the first few times he touches you for several months, he's got trembling hands and stays quieter than ever, constantly freezes up every time you move or make a noise because he thinks he's done something wrong. He has to be coaxed into feeling more comfortable before he gets used to it, but he will build confidence over time.

As addressed before, though, if he's pushed and pushed and pushed long enough, you can get a darker side to come out. This is most likely something that would only occur post-kidnapping in a distant time, once he's far away from any possibility of consequence and destruction has set in to the world around you. He starts to get a little bitter, if you've been mean to him. It all builds up. Don't you get that he's literally saved your life? That he devoted every waking second to you? Isn't he kinda entitled to some thanks? The cycle of time never rewards him. Even the figures he helps over time rarely give him more than a verbal praise and thanks, maybe an item here or there, and then disappear. His role feels thankless. He starts to feel like he deserves something, something tangible, in return.

Surprisingly, though, he actually does not take the route of guilt-tripping or emotional manipulation or gaslighting his way into it like a lot of the sweeter yanderes when he does have that snap. His snaps/breakdowns are rather extreme in terms of how much of a polar opposite they are to his normal state, rather than just a slight bend of his normal personality. Rather than taking the route of most yanderes like himself, he just gets directly physically forceful. Still somewhat sweet, though, reminds you he loves you, he'd die for you, you're his entire world. You'd argue that doesn't really change the actions, but considering how frightening he is in that state, you're not dumb enough to vocalize that.

The guilt consumes him alive afterwards. Like, immediately afterwards. He's still panting and twitching and buried inside when it sets in. That being said, he doesn't get to stuttering and profusely apologizing, like he does over smaller offenses. It's all done and he can't take it back, so he just kinda collapses and says nothing. He's not the best with words, you know. It's an odd mixture of guilt and, honestly, a bit of satisfaction and relief. It feels like letting go of some self-imposed burden, that feeling of finally surrendering to some deep want, even if it comes with a lot of remorse, the relief of finally letting go does have a good feeling as well... and because of that, it’s another one of those barriers that, once broken, can’t be built up again.

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

In all honesty the boy is, for the most part, a fairly gentle and vanilla lover. He doesn't really need anything special to get off -- he's easily excited and cums very very easily too. Just the prospect of getting to stick his dick in you in any capacity is enough to make him nearly burst at the thought honestly.

In general, as aforementioned, he's very very cautious and gentle to a point, but has a tendency to get actually kinda rough once he gets into it. The thing is, the roughness aspect is actually unintentional. He's one of those boys that is a little bit unaware of his own strength, doesn't process exactly how hard and fast he's going. He just gets lost in the feeling, kinda enters a dazed lusty haze where he's less aware of his actions. Doesn't realize he's literally got an iron grip pressing your head down on his dick or into the bed until you start flailing your hands because you can't breathe. Doesn't realize how hard he was gripping until he sees the bruises on your arms and hips later. That sort of deal -- poor thing is just unaware and doesn't have enough blood in his brain to think straight.

Biting

Surprisingly a really big one for him. (Remnants of a past life cycle with some lupine experiences perhaps?) In all seriousness, he could not explain exactly why if asked, it's one of those "I just like it" sort of things. It feels like yet another way to conjoin the two bodies, pulls you close. The marking aspect is also nice. Granted, he feels guilty afterwards, tries to help it heal. He has that same duality where moments ago he was this intimidating beast of a human being, rough and growly and jerking you like you were weightless, and now he's back to this bright eyed softie stuttering while he apologizes.

The guilt is mixed with a bit of enjoyment, though. It's constantly conflicting -- sure, part of him understands it's embarrassing and will help you cover up, but part of him doesn't want to, he wants people to see. Part of him looks at the marks and tells himself internally to never do that again, and part of him sees them and just wants to give you even more. It's a constant internal conflict, poor thing.

As far as a place, he likes the neck and shoulders best, simply because it's the most visible and it's the most passionate ones to create, when your bodies are tightly locked together. That being said, though, he also has a thing for biting at the insides of your thighs. It's another one of those I just like it sort of things.

Sometimes, when you're asleep, or pretending to be, you can feel him trace the bite marks with his fingers, softly running them over the circular pattern, just enough to barely ghost over your flesh.

Somnophilia

It puts him at ease. This one is particularly prevalent towards the beginning of your relationship, before you really know... how he is. He has this image of you as so pure and he couldn't bear the thought of defiling you with his horrible horrible thoughts. The guilt eats away at him for a while, but eventually he just can't hold back, but how could he ever do anything to you and risk consequence? So... the solution he comes up with is waiting until you sleep.

He tests the waters to see how heavy of a sleeper you are. Calls your name at increasing volume, lightly runs his fingers over your hair, pokes your face, whispers in your ear, runs his hands over your arms. Just to see what makes you rustle, if anything, so he knows the limits. If it turns out you're an incredibly light sleeper, well, unfortunately that means he's limited to just jerking off to your sleeping form, but that's ok. Just seeing your soft face and the cute way you breathe, the slightest way your lips open, that's enough for him.

If it turns out you're a heavier sleeper though, well, he tries to fight the temptation, but ends up going further. Slowly climbs onto your bed, careful to make the weight shift as gently as possible. Slowly pulls the covers back. Runs his hands up and down. It's a lot better when he can actually see your body as he jerks off, honestly. If he's feeling particularly risky, he might press your thighs together, feel how soft your skin is to his cock, how nice the squeezing pressure between them is.

He gets easily lost in a haze, though, so he inevitably ends up accidentally cumming on you and has to frantically find a way to lightly dab it up without waking you. He panics quite a bit, but that doesn't stop him from doing it again the very next night.

Overstimulation/Forced Orgasm

It just means he's doing a good job, really. Sure, you squeal and kick your feet back and forth and tug at his hair, but that's just because it feels good. Orgasms equate to love and feel good, right? Sure there's a little bit of pain when you go overboard, but then it just leads to feeling even better, right?

It's kind of an irrational compulsion rather than a logical goal, though. He just has an impulsive need to feel you quiver and spasm and clench, it basically gives him a chemical high hit and a wave of reassurance, makes him feel good in both the physical sense and the emotional sense. The first one sends him into this compulsive need to feel it over and over and over again, as many times as he can. It's another one of his internal conflict things -- sure, he knows it's hurting, but he just has to get one more. Just one more. But of course, every time turns into "just one more" when he's been saying that for half an hour now.

And, to be honest, it kind of gives him a pride boost to think he can make you cum against your will. How many people struggle to achieve that even when both parties are trying? It makes him feel good in an adequacy sort of way, he feels needed.

Size Kink/Distension

You know, there's a well-known thing among the male-lovers in this world when it comes to size. It's never the arrogant, loud guys, it's never the social butterflies, it's never the tall guys, it's never the beefy muscly guys. No, they're not the ones that end up somehow bestowed with absolute monster cocks. It's always the soft, lean boys who don't talk much. And they're always painfully unaware of it, too.

He's no exception. Not to the size or the complete lack of awareness. He hasn't spent a lot of time around guys his age too much, he's always been the one sent for some special task and ends up out in the wilderness by himself on journeys, or, in some lifetimes, accompanying you most of the time. He doesn't know what the average dick looks like, so he has no idea he's far above average.

This might sound like a plus, and of course in some ways it is, but also he doesn't think about the fact that the average body isn't properly equipped to handle it. You're supposed to just kinda put it in, that's how the sex works, right? Poor thing, especially if it's entirely consensual sex, he's just kinda ???? because why are you in pain? What is he doing wrong? You have to eventually explain it's literally just his body, not something he's doing.

That being said, naturally, he's a humble person, but hearing you say that does kinda... make him feel good inside. A little bit proud. He's not a person who takes a lot of pride in many things, so he likes having this one thing, and quickly notices you can visibly see it through the bulge it makes in your stomach. Especially if it's in a position where your back is pressed to his front, every little movement creates the bulge, so expect to get a lot of that.

He doesn't really bring it up much or talk about it when he's actually fucking you, it's more like, as with many things, something he's quietly aware of and silently enjoys a lot internally, even if it's not voiced.

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

Yes and no. It has to do with his overactive protection instinct. What if something happened or went wrong? He couldn't take that. He couldn't lose you.

At the same time, he likes kids, and he's very good with them, very patient. And over time, realizes that a kid would be the perfect tool of manipulation, and besides that, isn't it a beautiful thing, an ultimate manifestation of love?

So how to work around that... Ultimately, what he decides to do is have a kid... Just not by blood. There are plenty of orphans in Hyrule, wandering the streets and the wilderness, picking one up is easy. ...You wouldn't leave this poor child to suffer out there, to fend for themselves, would you? Nor would you leave him to take care of it by himself... Right?

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

Oh, it's not like he thinks of it that way. He would call it... a reminder. You put yourself in danger again? You tried to go back again? You were gone and for ten whole minutes he didn't know where you were? What could the solution to this issue be? The only thing his brain can really come up with is making sure you need him. Making sure you're content and satisfied here with him so you don't go running off.

Thus we return to the forced orgasm thing -- see, you do need him. It feels good, right? You say it hurts, and maybe it does a little, but ultimately you wouldn't be cumming if it wasn't good. No one else can ever do that. No one else knows you like this. No one else was made for you like this. You can't replace him. You need him. And he can keep going as many times as it takes until you see that, too. Even if he gets milked dry, he has a mouth and hands for a reason.

And by "until you see that," I mean until you say it. In his more... emotionally intense moments, he gets a bit insistent. He needs to hear you say it. Admit it to yourself. And to him. That you need him, that you depend on him, that you'll never leave again. And don't think your patience and tolerance can stand a chance of outlasting his -- it will keep going until you say it.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

He's one of those wholesome type of boys who goes with something sweet. He says maybe your hair, your face, your skin, your eyes. It's all so comforting. So familiar. Of course, not to say that he doesn't like your less wholesome mentionable parts, but he wants to be chivalric about such a question, and feels answering that way would be too disrespectful.

In his unspoken thoughts, though, he likes the hips. It's a part of you he can grab onto and hold you close with. He puts his hands there a lot and holds tight, like he feels like at any moment you could slip out of his grasp. And, I mean, it's nice to look at, can't forget that.

[weebsinstash]

*sigh* I drink my "horny for evil bastards" juice every morning and I've been thinking about yandere Nolan Grayson x a Reader who doesn't know they've got Viltrumite heritage and recently got their powers but is in total denial of everything

--the two of you meet by total chance. He's out patrolling or having a fly in-costume as Omni-Man when you happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time when there's some sort of catastrophic emergency, like some giant monster attack or a supervillain. You're about to be hit by a car or attacked by a weapon or have a falling piece of debris totally crush you when... you're totally fine! Whatever weapon or rock or car rammed into you bends like tin foil or crumbles or- you get the point.

--he's honestly a little surprised to see it, and strangely enough, so are you! You look super freaked out and run off before the superhero can get to you, having to take care of the disaster first before he'd be able to talk to you, and by that point, you're gone

--it could just be you have some sort of power, but Nolan can't help but wonder... have any other Viltrumites come to Earth before? If so, are they still here? How many? Were you a child of one of his kind? It's all speculative, but... he's curious, and for some reason, it's more about you personally more than the possibility of your family tree.

--your family member from Viltrum is either one of your parents or grandparents, which is a recent enough lineage that you're in the same "almost pure-blooded" category as Nolan's own half-human son, which is both good and bad news for you. Good news is, you've reached some sort of alien puberty and now have powers! The bad news is you think they're just your own superpowers and not indicative of any inhuman heritage, since you're completely unaware of your family member's history. Also, now you have a... not so emotionally-stable super-powered alien who is keen on becoming your new mentor, which is, definitely, the worst part

--hell, maybe your alien kin is dead or even back on Viltrum, leaving you all the more ignorant of, what Nolan sees as, a greater purpose for you, a greatly missed opportunity of untapped potential, and a missed connection to your culture. He immediately feels the urge to tutor you as a young Viltrumite, perhaps even be some sort of companion, but when he finally finds you and tells you about your family, about Viltrum, you just... don't believe him. You don't doubt the planet's existence, just that your family has no connection! No one else in your family has powers, your family isn't some--some---

-- you're just kind of in shock and basically tell the superhero to leave you alone, to go away and not come back, but Nolan doesn't want to take no for an answer, not until he gets a summons from Cecil to handle another crisis, anyways. The Viltrumite sternly tells you, no, promises that "the two of us are going to sit down and have a talk about this later" before reluctantly flying off

--he's determined to show you how your life as a human was all fake bullshit that never mattered, and now that you're a Viltrumite, there's so much more for you out there! Other planets, worlds never before seen, and you can meet other people of your race, learn more about your interstellar cultural heritage! But you reject it because... he's basically telling you everything you've ever known and loved is pointless and that he knows what's best for you, he can show you how to really live your life. It kind of feels like some creepy mix between overbearing father and abusive boyfriend

--so, if you're going to be so stubborn and deny your heritage, Nolan will prove to you you're a Viltrumite, and he will get you to abandon this wasteful human existence you're wasting all this time and energy on

--you thought you were safe and alone when he suddenly corners you alone in your own home, dragging you kicking and screaming into the kitchen. He tells you to fight him if you don't want to get hurt, but you're nonviolent by nature, and you can't just beat on one of the worlds most famous protectors!

But he doesn't give you that choice. He's dragging you into the kitchen, over to the sink, turning on your garbage disposal, forcing your hand closer and closer and closer as you SCREAM

and your garbage disposal bends and busts like its made of plastic. You pull out your hand completely unharmed as you cry and sob because what the fuck, what the fuck did you just do, why the hell did you do that, why--

--You're unharmed... physically. Mentally and emotionally, not so much. But don't worry! Nolan is completely dedicated to providing you comfort, giving you one of his fatherly hugs as he tells you about all the nice things he's going to show you over the next few hundred years that will make you forget all about this stupid planet and everything on it. You've got him now, and he can be everything you need

[thesolferino]

Power(less)

⤷ smp!dream x gn!reader.

⤷ genre: angst, soulmate au

⤷ word count: 3.7k

⤷ requested: yes, by this lovely anon!

— summary: you pay a visit to the man you hate most when he exiles your brother/best friend, tommy

If there’s one thing you were sure of in this pathetic, despicable life of yours, it was that you hated Dream.

Honestly, how couldn’t you? He ruined everything you stood for, stomped over all of your plans for a hopeful future before you even started, never let you and your brothers build your life the way you wanted, because he had always been, and always will be, a selfish, narcissistic bastard. No matter how much you tried to negotiate, how many times you cried behind those walls because you knew you’d never be left alone, how many times you begged and pleaded Wilbur to let it go, let it all go, let Dream win because he’ll win every single time, no matter how many times the three of you try to stop him, he never gave up on making your life a living hell.

Despite the fact that you’d spent countless nights up, tossing and turning in your bed, wondering if life like this was really worth it if you’ll forever live in fear, if you can’t leave your window open at night without fear crawling up your spine that maybe, just maybe, he’d throw a bomb inside and kill you in your sleep - despite the fact that you always wondered if maybe you should flee, and never look back - you were one of L’Manburg’s proudest and strongest soldiers, at least for the time when the country was exactly what you built it to be. 

You waved your country’s flag and sung the anthem with equal pride, and you always stood right by Wilbur and Tommy’s side, chin high in the air, stance unwavering in the presence of Dream and those who stood by his side, always ready to show him what L’Manburg citizens were really made of. You shot best with your special crossbow - Wilbur had always complimented you on your eagle’s eye, and while you were built for a battle like the one Dream and Tommy fought for the prize of L’Manburg’s independence, Tommy was far too loud, confident, and forever blinded by his own vanity to have you fight it instead. 

Of course you’d let Tommy have it, despite being aware that he’s far too cocky, beyond his abilities, and that you’d handle it much more swiftly, because he felt the obligation to; because he wouldn’t give in and let you do it. Two sides of you chewed you away to insanity, because Tommy was your favorite - both you, and Wilbur’s - and while you wanted to let him have it, wanted to let him have the title of #1 soldier and have it his way, you also didn’t want him to get beaten by Dream, because you were sure it was going to happen. As much as you despised the man and everything he stood for, you had to admit that he was one hell of a warrior, and quite good with a crossbow.

That’s why, when Tommy got impaled by the arrow, you were the first to run up to him amidst all of Dream Team’s cheers, nursing supplies already out, (Dream had asked if you were so insecure in Tommy’s skills that you brought those along in preparation or if you were so confident that you had brought them to nurse him, instead; Wilbur had to physically hold you back from pouncing on him with the sword strapped to your back) slowly plunging the arrow out of his stomach and assuring him he’d be fine, that his well being meant more than a thousand L’Manburgs did. Dream missed none of your soothing murmurs and the worrying glances you shot to a boy no less than your brother, whether by blood or not, and he chose to turn his back, celebrating another victory. 

He couldn’t look away, though. No matter how hard he tried, his gaze always flew to the two of you.

What did it feel like - to be cared for? He’d have to ask Tommy, or Wilbur - what does it feel like, to have a chunk of your heart? What does it feel like to have you stare at him with flames in your eyes, but flames lit by adoration, and not by resentment? What does it feel like, to have you on his side?

Truth be told - he tried. He tried, he really did. When you first walked into his land, a traveller, somebody from beyond his sight, a fresh pair of eyes with a fresh perspective, he tried to befriend you, because even if he didn’t want to, it seemed like everything in this world brought the two of you together. He always ended up close to you, next to you, observing how you laughed, how your eyes crinkled, how your brows furrowed, how you tapped your fingers when you were bored and swung your legs back and forth when you sat on a wall too high for you. 

One thing you didn’t seem to care for, however, was Dream’s best attribute, and that was power. You didn’t care that he held all land on the palm of his hand, you didn’t care that he appointed and laid off whoever and whenever he pleased, you didn’t care that all looked up to him - you didn’t care that he was most powerful. 

He wasn’t the only one with the power, though. Power comes in different shapes and sizes, and a bold man is a powerful man. A man who stands out holds power, and the two who always stuck out like a sore thumb were Wilbur and Tommy. Because physical strength or resources aren’t always what make a man powerful - an entertainer is a powerful man, an intelligent man is a powerful man, a witty man is a powerful man, but above all, a courageous man is a powerful man. And Wilbur and Tommy were all of the above.

He envied Tommy, because Tommy knew how to get the attention on himself without the use of power. He envied Wilbur, because he had somebody to fight, he had something to stand for, he had a purpose, something in which he could put equal part bravery and intelligence in, both of which he had plenty. He envied the two, because they could be heroes, because he was there to witness their story getting built, while Dream was there from the beginning, and the only witness he had was himself. 

You grew close to the two of them before he even had the chance to try - his chance got wasted before he could even try, because the more Wilbur whispered into your ear and crafted plans, and the more Tommy encouraged you to go with the two of them, the less he saw of you and your shiny smiles. At first, it bothered him to no end, because he saw so much potential in you, both as a friend and as a warrior, and Wilbur just kept on stealing you away from him, over and over again. But then, when he saw you helping build those giant walls, and heard Tommy proudly announce that: “We’ve got Tubbo, Eret and Y/N on our side, too!” shiny smiles became dull, menacing even, to the point he didn’t want to look at them anymore.

And when the war had started and you proudly defended Tommy, no matter what, with an insane glint in your eye that he only recognised from reflections, he realised that the chance had fully, entirely slipped out of his fingers, and you’re nothing more than an enemy anymore. The opportunity to get you on his side was long gone, if it ever existed in the first place.

You were with them through everything, thick and thin - you were there when Tommy turned over the discs, cheering on Wilbur during the election, even retaliating against Schlatt once he revoked the citizenship of your two best friends, nothing short of brothers, and leaving with them, spitting on his shoes before running amongst a sea of arrows that were being thrown your way, escaping out of the country you built of your own blood, sweat and tears like a criminal, like a foreigner, like an outsider and not the very founder of the land they stood on.

You were always by their side, but that doesn’t necessarily mean you always agreed - you had gotten into way too many passive aggressive fights with Technoblade, told Tommy and Wilbur far too many times that he was nothing but trouble, told them that there is no more dangerous man than a man with power, and you thought they’d learned that lesson with Dream, long, long ago. But nonetheless, you stayed through it all - you stayed through the makings of Pogtopia, Henry’s unfortunate death, and the festival, at which you didn’t fail to shout “I TOLD YOU SO”s at Wilbur and Tommy despite being in a near-death situation. Technoblade suffered a kick in the groin, because you just couldn’t help yourself, which led you into a sword fight that was way more than you bargained for, and was ultimately stopped by Tommy who forgave Techno just to stop the two of you fighting, not looking forward to having your head cut off in front of him. 

You were there to see Wilbur spiral, breaking apart in the prison of his own mind, you were there to see the glint of heroism in his eye get bent into one of a villain, you saw him become the man he had once swore to you he’d never become. And perhaps, when you fought for L’Manburg again, deep down, you knew what would happen; but you still fought tooth and nail, desperate to get back what you once had. You fought next to Technoblade, even though both of you knew you hadn’t forgiven him, and you never will - you fought next to Wilbur, even though you knew he’s not the same Wilbur you once knew, even though you knew L’Manburg would never truly be L’Manburg again, because its founders aren’t the same as they once were, when their heart was full of foolish hope and love. 

You were there to see Wilbur mouth an apology to you, and even though you didn’t know what he would do, you knew that the apology wasn’t an apology, but a goodbye; at least a late goodbye to the Wilbur you once knew. You were there to see the betrayal in Tommy’s eyes when Technoblade turned against you, summoning monsters with his own hands, forcing the rest of you to kill them while he watched. You were close, so close, too close to putting an arrow through his heart, ready to get rid of him, tired of the tears and the blood you shed over getting back what was always rightfully yours; but you didn’t, because Tommy’s hand laid on top of yours, telling you not to do it. So you didn’t, and instead you aimed for the porcelain mask that haunted you in your dreams, the cause of all destruction. Unfortunately, you missed, with his foot jumping back right before the arrow was supposed to plunge straight through his chest, and you fell to the floor, defeated.

You were there when L’Manburg’s government formed again - you were there when Tommy burnt down George’s house on accident, and, unfortunately for you, you were there when your younger brother got exiled. You were there, watching him get escorted. You watched him leave. You watched that monster of a man escort him out, kick him out, away from you, from everyone he loved. You watched him, and gripped your crossbow with tears in your eyes, swearing to yourself that you’d never let him get away with this. 

That’s why you stomped into the Community House the next day, knife strapped to the inside of your thigh, sword fastened on your back, crossbow slinged over your shoulder, fire in your eyes, demanding to see him. And sure enough, as soon as you spoke his name, he was in front of you, cracked mask covering his face, dirty blonde hair combed, as if nothing had happened in the first place, as if he hadn’t made life a living hell for all of you.

“Hel-”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you cut him off, speaking through gritted teeth as you took a step towards him, heavy boots creating even heavier footsteps on the wooden floor. The mask remained expressionless as always, and his body language gave away nothing. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Dream? Is this funny to you? Are we some kind of sick joke to you? Is that what this is? Are you having fun, Dream?” you continued, almost spitting at him. “Take off that mask, talk to me like a fucking man.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” he said, hand shooting to grip the porcelain at the mention of his mask, although he simply adjusted it slightly, still leaving it on.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. How could you kick him out?! He’s a fucking child, Dream! A child!” you yelled, hand clenching into a fist.

“Is this about Tommy? I’m sorry, Y/N, but it was not my decision. The people, and Tubbo, decided that he should be exiled- I just did my job.” he claimed, still stiff, expressionless, and you fired back almost before he even finished the sentence, rage lighting your whole body ablaze.

“Right, because you only have power over other people when it fucking fits you! You only have power when you want to! You’re only the most powerful person in this whole fucking land when you want to terrorise other people! What are you, Technoblade? Poor baby got succumbed by peer pressure? Miss me with that bullshit, Dream. You and I both know that if you stood up for Tommy, and refused to exile him, nobody would’ve done shit! But no, you chose to exile him, and you know that. So at least admit to your actions and don’t shift blame, asshole.” you spat, fury getting the best of you, and apparently him, too, because he pulled his mask off so quickly that the strings almost broke, menacing green eyes boring into yours.

“He shouldn’t have burned down George’s house, he shouldn’t have tried robbing George, he shouldn’t have been a criminal when he’s vice president of a country! All actions have consequences, and he has to suffer those consequences to learn!” he borderline shouted, defending himself.

“He’s supposed to learn by being exiled and ripped away from everyone he loves? That’s how he’s supposed to learn not to fucking rob people? He’s sixteen, Dream! Sixteen! He’s a fucking kid- yes, he makes mistakes, but so do we! And we’re adults! Full, grown, fucking adults. What has he done to you to deserve this, you fucking psycho?!” you yelled, and you briefly saw him grit his teeth, jaw clenching.

“I’m not a psycho and you won’t be calling me that. He can’t go unpunished for the crimes he committed. Tommy is not as innocent as you make him out to be. And, once again, this was not my decision, it was made by Tubbo. If you have any issues, take it up with him, not me.” his eyes go darker than they were before, mirroring a brewing storm with no glints of the sun anymore.

“Right, because you’re so innocent. You never committed any crimes! You’ve never done anything bad! Our favorite good guy, Dream. Never tried to kill any minors. Bless his heart.” you mocked.

“I don’t fight anybody unless they provoke me first. Every time I fought Tommy, I wished I didn’t have to.” 

“I really expected more from you, Dream, I really did. I expected you to at least fucking admit to your actions, at least give me a proper excuse as to why you haven’t left me and my brothers alone from the start even though we wanted nothing but to live in peace and independence, why you do so much of the fucked up shit you do, but I guess I expected too much from you. You’re nothing - even Technoblade is more of a man than you, you know that?” you asked, leaning on one foot lazily. You see his hand clench - someone’s getting mad. “Technoblade admits to his fucking actions. Technoblade has had his goals set from the start, he’s always made them clear, and even though he’s a dirty traitor, at the end of the day, it’s still your fault for siding with him. But you - you’re a liar. You’re a liar, and a manipulator, and you never play fair - you always play dirty and play with people’s emotions and that’s how you win.”

You continue: “That’s because you can’t win fairly. That’s because you lose when you play fair. You think you have power, but you don’t. You just play by a different set of rules than everybody else, and we let you. Power will turn a man evil, Dream, but you’ve been evil from the start. People will always fear you because you trick everyone into believing you’re far more powerful than you really are - but you know what people will do with me, Wilbur, and Tommy, that they’ll never do with you?”

Silence.

“They’ll respect us. And you are a man worthy of no respect.”

You unleash your sword, pressing the blade to his throat in a matter of seconds, ready to push it through with no preparation but he grips your hand before you can do it, and he’s about to speak, when your eyes dart to his, and suddenly, your vision blurs, a movie playing behind your eyelids without you closing your eyes at all. 

It’s almost like you see the events play out in the depths of his gaze - you see him, the real him, who stands before you, and you see his face mirrored in the scenes that play out, you see him staring right at you through some kind of screen, a smile plastered on his face. His features look softer, and his eyes don’t glint the same way they do now, but it’s not a bad thing; they look warm, homely. Something bursts in your chest the more you look at him, and it all goes by so fast, but you manage to somehow catch all of it. 

You manage to catch his warm smile just as the days pass in flying colors right before your eyes, you manage to feel heat spread through your chest when you look at the man before you, you manage to see him cooking, and laughing, and running, and driving, and crying, and sleeping, and kissing you and it all feels so odd but so perfect at the same time. You’re looking at Dream, but it’s not him - you call him a different name. You can make out the silhouette of the actual Dream, who still grips your wrist, behind the scenes of you and the man with a striking resemblance to him, and you wonder if this is happening to him, too.

You see him on one knee, at a beach, and you feel yourself crying even though you don’t know what’s going on. You see him in a field, and you can make out a man who looks awfully like Sapnap sitting on a plastic chair in the front row among many, wiping tears before your gaze turns back to Dream, who grins at you, dressed in a tuxedo. You see a young boy with blonde hair running around the house, laughing, while you try to catch him, and then Dream appears in front of you, picking the boy up before you could. You see his face wrinkle as the days pass, and you finally see him close his eyes one last time while tears run down your face uncontrollably, and the whole thing stops. The scenes disappear and you’re snapped back into reality, Dream’s teary eyes boring into yours. 

And that’s when you realise.

You harshly pull away from his grip, eyes wide in shock, putting your sword back in place as you shake your head in disbelief. The tears don’t stop flowing, and you can’t tell if it’s shock, horror, disappointment or betrayal - betrayal in who? Fate, you suppose. 

“N-No way. No way. No.” You keep shaking your head, voice trembling as you back away from him. He can barely collect himself, too, staring at you as if you’re not real, as if he’s seeing a ghost.

“We’re- no. Fuck no. Fuck this shit, dude.” You laugh dryly, no humor in it whatsoever, a mix of disbelief and fear still weighing down on your voice as he tries to step towards you, wiping the tears off his face.

“We’re- we’re soulmates.” He stutters, but manages to ground himself way before you do, gripping your wrist again, and you feel almost electrocuted when a spark shoots through your whole body at his touch. You pull away, again, stepping backwards, praying there’s no wall behind you.

“No.” you repeat like a broken record, not even bothering to wipe the tears. “No- I- there must be a m-mistake, this can’t be-”

“There’s no mistake, Y/N. You’re my soulmate.” He takes both of your hands into his, holding your fingers gently, and it takes all the power in your body not to burst out crying again. 

“Y-You’re no soulmate of mine.” you gulp, pulling your hands away once again, finally managing to somehow collect your thoughts. “Fuck you. I don’t care what- what we fucking are. I’ll never love you.” 

You see him visibly stiffen at your words, mouth parting, and you almost feel bad. Almost.

“You can’t- you can’t go against fate like that. We’re soulmates, Y/N.” He sounds hurt. You manage to convince yourself that you don’t care.

“Watch me do it.” You spit, anger recollecting in your gut once again. “Fucking watch me. Find yourself somebody else. I’ll never forgive you.” 

“Listen, I’ll bring Tommy back, just listen-”

“So now you can suddenly go against Tubbo’s orders? When it fits you? Fuck you. You don’t need to bring Tommy back, because I’m leaving with him. Him and Wilbur were more soulmates to me than you ever, ever will be.” 

And with one last glare in his direction, you turn on your heel, stomping out of the Community House, rage burning your whole body as he watches you leave. 

A powerful man needs those who will give him power. Watching you walk away, Dream realised that one day, he’ll have no one.

[autisticandroids]

Oh patron saint of mpreg, tell us, what is the absolute gold standard canon divergent mpreg scenario with Cas and Dean?

so for me the gold standard is for cas to get pregnant due to some kind of magical or metaphysical situation that dean at least does not perceive as sex. bonus points is cas is hesitant about it but refuses to explain why (because he doesn't know how dean will deal with the concept of himself being able to potentially get cas pregnant), so dean is like "we're doing it anyway" and then they do it and then cas doesn't tell anyone that he is pregnant until circumstances force the information out of him. and then dean has to deal with the fact that 1) cas can get pregnant, 2) cas is pregnant, 3) it's his, and he does so pretty poorly.

the rest is under a cut because this post is over 2.5k words long.

my favorite times for this to happen are at the end of season nine, just before dean dies and gets demonized in do you believe in miracles, and at the start of season twelve, just before sam and dean go to jail, because the pining in both those scenarios is delicious but it is so much more powerful if cas is also pregnant, and never even told dean. double points if the truth somehow comes out while they're separated so when dean comes back it's like. yeah cas is pregnant. it's yours. welcome home dean now you have to coddle cas' emotions because he thought he would have to raise your baby alone.

the season twelve scenario is particularly delicious because 1) we can have lucifer slut shaming cas in front of crowley in rock never dies, so crowley knows before dean, and 2) much more importantly, mary is there, and i am obsessed with like. okay. several things.

- the idea of mary getting all baby fever because she misses her boys and this is like. a baby she can take care of because she never got to take care of sam

- the idea of dean working through some of his parentification trauma by coparenting a child with the parent whose place he felt he had to take

- the idea of mary coming in and projecting her insane 1980s gender roles all over cas, suddenly treating him like a woman, stripping him of agency, etc. and like. dean would also do this even though he's not from the eighties, but mary would do it double strength, and they would reinforce each other, it would be a nightmare

- also mary trying to relate to cas on the Travails Of Motherhood etc. and cas being like ?????????? like i cannot stress enough that the weird gender roles she projects onto cas are also standards that she held herself to back when she was a Wife And Mother. while cas is like mary i am not a human woman and also i don't see what "having to look pretty for my man when i'm all baby bloaty" has to do with anything. that's not something i feel like i have to do

oh and 3) could you imagine lily sunder has some regrets if cas was pregnant? unfathomable episode. like ishim and mirabel's reaction but ALSO lily's. and it would fix the number one issue i have with lily sunder, which is that the resolution of the moral dilemma is "well AKSHUALLY the kid was human and not a nephilim so killing it was bad" rather than "it was bad to kill lily's baby, full stop." like ishim's cover up and using the machinery of power to manipulate the truth is very compelling, but the fact that it results in the moral essentially being "it would have been okay if the kid had been a nephilim" suuuuuucks.

basically, there's a reason i have two entire mpreg aus set in season twelve.

and then the delicious part in the season nine version is like. one, dean is away for much longer and he could be anywhere. also he's a demon and he's cheating on cas with crowley. and then even when cas gets him back he's still cursed with the mark, so we can get all weepy over that. you know. i'm the one who's going to have to watch you murder the world and i'm eight months pregnant. etc etc.

but the other thing that's juicy about this version is that cas is still semi-involved with the other angels at this point, like he's roadtripping around with hannah and they're trying to get heaven under control, so carrying a nephil is going to really affect those relationships. so he's going to be probably disliked by the other angels, and there are MANY opportunities for slut-shaming, but at the same time, the other "outcast" type angels might respect him for violating heaven's dictates.

and then of course there's his grace vampirism victorian wasting disease. in canon he's perfectly happy to let himself die, but if he were having dean's baby he would absolutely not do that, that's dean's baby he's endangering there. so of course there's the terrible guilt of having to kill other angels so he can live, plus potentially preparing to die shortly after childbirth so he doesn't have to keep killing. delicious.

and on top of all this cas can get slutshamed by metatron in, depending on when exactly he gets knocked up, meta fiction, stairway to heaven, and do you believe in miracles. plus stairway to heaven would be insane like all the angels would know that cas is pregnant. they would see it in his grace. like cas' angel army would just. know that he was pregnant with a nephil, and have to accept that because he's their leader. in love with humanity indeed.

i'm trying to think of other good times for this drama with cas getting secretly pregnant through a nonsexual interaction to take place. it would be great in season six. like: he's doing a blasphemy with his body but at the same time he's this big important rebel leader so they can't say shit about him, and also he's pregnant while fighting these big important battles (fun and sexy), AND this is like, hot on the heels of the realization that something about his feelings for dean is untoward, expands beyond the bounds of ordinary friendship and camaraderie. like he realizes that, and maybe even that he has sexual feelings for dean, and then he gets immediately knocked up. stunning.

it would ALSO be extremely fun for it to be some kind of... i don't know, magical longer gestation times, whatever, but for cas to have gotten pregnant sometime in s5 and only realized during the Year Of Lisa. LOVE to watch a man rake leaves while both metaphorically carrying the taint of taboo sexual feelings for him and literally carrying his child.

but the thing about season six is, first of all, cas isn't really... envisioning a future with dean. not the way he does in the later seasons. like does he fantasize about a future with dean? yes. like. he really did watch that motherfucker rake leaves. but it's only fantasy. he expected to never speak to dean again after swan song until dean prayed to him in the third man. he's obsessed with dean, but it's distant. remote.

like, we talk about cas babytrapping dean in the later seasons with jack, and he absolutely does, and he would do it even more if dean got him literally pregnant, but that babytrap is about... how do i put this. it's about winning dean's affection. late seasons cas knows that he's going to die by dean's side. the difference that babytrapping dean makes is that maybe it will get dean to be nice to him in the mean time, instead of discarding him like so much toilet paper.

but season six cas doesn't think of it like that. if he were gonna babytrap dean, it would be in the more traditional sense of forcing dean to stay with him in order to raise their child together. and he would never do that. he wants dean to have a happy future, which in his mind does not include him. like, compare here "he's retired and he's to stay that way" in the man who would be king, where cas assumes that dean is happy without him and expects him to live out his days peacefully without ever seeing him again, to "i'm the one who's going to have to watch you murder the world" in the prisoner, where cas assumes that he will be by dean's side for centuries.

but anyway, the other, much more important problem with season six is that cas has a war to fight. like, in the later seasons, cas really has nothing. even when he's on tenuous good terms with the angels, he doesn't really have a home with them. the winchesters are his family, and he'd give up anything for them. he has nothing in his life. he's at rock bottom, and this becomes truer the further along you go. late seasons cas has nothing he would prioritize over serving the winchesters, and he would be happy dropping anything he was involved in to have and raise dean's baby. parenting would give him a purpose that he no longer has, because everything else has been stripped from him.

but in season six cas has a life outside of them. like yes, he has a war to fight, but he also has a place in heaven, with the other angels. he belongs somewhere, he has solid connections to the outside world. even if he didn't have a war to fight, i don't know how excited he would be to have and raise a baby (even dean's baby) because he simply has other things he could be doing. he's involved in the world beyond the winchesters.

like, the reason cas wants to be a parent is that he is totally alone and totally purposeless. having a child gives him both a reason for being and someone who will always love him and who he can care for. if he doesn't have that hole in his life he might not be so eager to fill it with a baby.

for all these reasons, this plotline really doesn't work in season six, because you simply cannot justify cas not getting an abortion, unless you do something nasty like make angel abortion impossible, which i don't love.

you COULD somehow put the impregnation just at the end of season six, maybe just before the man who would be king, such that cas doesn't realize he's pregnant until he's already godstiel. you guys are unfortunately very aware of how obsessed i am with pregnant godstiel.

actually, @jeanne-de-valois has a concept of like. a single, madness fueled midnight hookup immediately pre-tmwwbk (or maybe even during, but prior to the superman mistake), where cas is simultaneously so stressed from being stretched so thin from the war and the lying and the shady dealings, and so high on being The Big Man In Heaven, that he's bold and out of his mind enough to actually come onto dean, like he just appears one night in dean's bedroom and is like, fuck me, and dean is like 👁👄👁 okay. so they have one single adrenaline and madness fueled hookup, and then everything immediately goes to shit.

and i think that's a great place for cas to get pregnant, and then he doesn't realize until he's become god, or maybe he does and he's just like "i'll deal with it later," either way godstiel is like oh? i carry dean's heir inside me? i will have dean's baby. i will have dean's baby it is my right and also my boon to him and also a symbol of my great and magnanimous love for humanity. and also maybe i will put giant paintings of myself pregnant with his child up in churches. what about that. which would be fun. don't know when he would give birth though. actually it would be insane if he gave birth as emmanuel and was just like. raising dean's nephil when dean found him again. nuts. but it just doesn't really have the same flavor as late seasons mpreg. doesn't compel me nearly as much. like the symbolism of godstiel being pregnant with dean's child is fun and sexy but them actually raising the kid afterwards doesn't compel me nearly as much, so it's better to leave literal mpreg to the later seasons and let godstiel mpreg reside in symbolism and fantasy.

or maybe the fetus gets stolen by the leviathans when cas walks into the lake and dean has to battle his leviathanated nephil daughter as the main villain of s7. like she's dick roman's secret weapon. i think that would be fun, actually. kind of an emma situation but drawn out over the whole season. and he thinks cas is dead for most of it so she's all he's got left of cas and a mess cas left for him to clean up. big sexy.

and as a bonus, i will also tell you the best time, imo, for dean to get pregnant: near the end of season eight. possibly a single, tragic farewell fuck in sacrifice when cas is planning to lock himself away in heaven and they're never gonna see each other again. and this impregnates dean with cas' nephil.

but then cas is human. and he can't do anything about it. like generally if they managed to get dean pregnant somehow, cas would immediately talk him into an abortion (which wouldn't be too hard; dean's natural white midwestern man who doesn't vote aversion to abortion would be at war with the horror of being pregnant, and the horror would win), or might not even inform dean that he's pregnant, and just quietly end the pregnancy without dean's knowledge, because cas would never put dean through that. but if cas is human, he can't do that. and furthermore, that nephil is the last evidence of his angelic nature that persists. it's the last of what he used to be, the last of his grace. and there's something absolutely delectable about that.

then of course dean would have to leave the bunker if he was pregnant with a nephil, because angels would be after him, and he wouldn't want to lead them to gadreel, so i am imagining dean discovering that he's pregnant and then showing up in a panic at the gas n sip like "actually cas i'm also out of the bunker will you go on the run with me?" and then they go on the run and have to live in motels again and cas gets to live with take care of dean who is pregnant with his child which is essentially his dream, and he doesn't have to feel guilty because he's no longer capable of giving dean an abortion so he doesn't feel obligated to get him to have one. ideally cas gets re-angeled just in time to give dean an angelic c-section. or maybe they rely on a normal human c-section in a hospital and cas stays human and they are two humans raising their nephil, which is also fun to me.

[cherrysha]

Run

Remember when i posted abt lumberjack a/b/o Uvo? well here it is!! shoutout again to ram fr helping me with this piece!! This is my first attempt at a longer story with more plot. Part of me wanted to break it up into more chapters but I like the build up thats there by keeping it in one piece. Its my take on abo (I know some people love it and some absolutely hate it but the lewding potential was too much for me to pass up) Very loosely based off of this song by hozier

Summary: Alphas are rare, Omegas even moreso. The standard for society is being a Beta, but unfortunately you weren’t born as one. Being an Omega is a presentation so detestable that it’s hard to even survive. In an era where it’s completely normal to cast you from the village for simply existing, to keep you blind from what it is to truly be an Omega, will there be any respite for you? (Yes, this is a period piece)

Word Count: 5.8k

Warnings: A/B/O, dubcon (since the readers in heat), predator/prey, a little blood, one slap, breeding, overstimulation, unprotected sex

“Do you ever get the feeling that they are lying to you?” you stare at the weathered wooden boards of the porch before you dare to glance at her face. The miller’s daughter was an omega as well, and often you found yourself gravitating to her if only out of comfort. The one of few in the village that could relate to you. She looked so soft in the morning sun, so lighthearted and gentle as she picked at the frayed patchwork of her dress.

“I don’t like to think about it too much or else I scare myself, y/n” she giggles. 

So Naïve.

You mull it over before coming to the conclusion that you and her are not the same. “I guess I understand” 

Her father always says she’s too kind, but that’s exactly what was so endearing. A world where it was normal to treat people like you and her as lesser, and she was still so kind. Absently, you wondered if you'd ever see her again after her next heat. It had been too long since an omega went missing.

“Will you still be walking with me to the market?”

“Ah, mother seems to have found some extra fabric that had been tucked away somewhere, so I suppose not. However, I’m glad you came to visit y/n!” she giggles as you stick your tongue out at her like a child. 

The walk there gives you an opportunity to think of her words. Was denial better than the fear that came along with the truth?

Plenty of omegas had gone missing. When you were younger, the elders would tell you that there was a man who lived on the edge of the forest. He wasn't an alpha, or a beta, or even an omega. He was only a monster. 

The path stretches before you and the heat of the summer sun is almost enough to make you turn around. But you persist, the idea of returning home empty handed was enough to make you ignore the sting on the back of your neck. 

This man, this beast, would eat omegas. That’s why it was important to return home before dark, the man in the forest used the cover of night to hunt; to take. that’s why omegas always went missing in the village. 

You momentarily take refuge in the cool water in the creek on the outskirts of the village, watching idly as water swirled around your bare feet.

When were you old enough to realize the flaws of that story? Was it your first heat? When with shaky hands, your mother had packed you enough provisions for the week and whispered for you to leave? Or was it the anger in your father’s voice when you asked to stay and he bitterly told you that omegas only brought misfortune?

You sigh. No, it was the day you'd found out one of the few remaining omegas hadn’t come back and that truth had only been a hard pill to swallow for you. No one seemed to care, it was as if the man in the forest didn’t scare them, had never scared them.

Not much sooner had you made the connection. Alphas were few and far between, but omegas were even more scarce. The ones who couldn’t find omegas settled down with betas, but what would a married alpha do when an unclaimed omega went into heat? Only the forest knew.

Sometimes you wished the beast was real, and still the lie had persisted. The younger omegas believed it to be the wood smith and while he was a recluse, so much so that you'd never even seen him, he was far too young to be the monster from your youth. He’d only made his appearance in the village every so often, and in truth he hadn’t lived in the area for that long. You let them hold on to their delusion instead, not wanting to be the one to burst their bubble.

Your heat was many moons away, but the fear of living still persisted.

The water feels nice on your neck, gentle and cooling as you scoop handfuls of it over your burning skin. It makes you forget about everything for a second, soothing over you like an expensive balm. Somehow, It reminds you of when you were little, before you presented and the friends you'd made in the village. Small and unassuming, no worries about presentation or etiquette. Just young and carefree. The thought brings a smile to your face.

Now, boys your age would rather die than be seen with an Omega, not that you cared about their indifference. In their minds it was completely warranted, and in yours the Betas had nothing to offer you. You both saw each other as fundamentally useless. No one gave mind to insects, most of the time they were just there. Some were cruel, yes, but most went their way, and you went yours. That was the best you could ask for.

Sighing, you pick the coin purse out of your pocket, taking a moment to count the few coins your mother had given you. 

It was barely enough to buy thread, but you weren’t surprised. Her and father were still angry that you'd ripped another hole in your dress again since it was one of the little clothing items they had granted you. If it weren’t for the fact that the hole steadily became bigger, threatening the integrity of the entire garment, you don’t think it would’ve been mended at all.

The wind swirls around you, reminding you of your task and the repercussions of wasting time. 

With a grunt, you force yourself back up and onto the road, sidestepping a rather large man carrying probably one of the largest baskets of wood you'd ever seen.

Mother says that its impolite to stare, so you don’t let your gaze linger for too long, but the sight was unusual to say the least. He’s tall, so tall in fact that you have to peer up to even try to see his face, eventually you give up and your gaze ends at the well toned muscles of his chest that are thinly veiled underneath a rather dingy tunic. You couldn’t judge him, right now you were wearing the same dress that desperately needed patching up. Still, he was somewhat of an unbelievable height, it was hard not to wonder of his presentation. Surely, there couldn’t be Betas that tall, but it was even more so unbelievable for him to be an Alpha. The Alphas in your town were well known, their large presence in the village applauded by most and avoided by Omegas. Like the tavern owner with wandering hands under the guise of drunkenness and the butcher who stared a little too long that one might find it indecent. 

 as you make your way through the village opening you can feel his presence pressing closer behind you with each step. It’d be easier to know for certain if the wind carried his scent, but at the present moment it was blowing yours in his direction, a thought that was a little unnerving to you. Nevertheless, you persisted, pushing past the mounting feeling in your chest that seemed to get worse the louder his footsteps became behind you. Surely, he was just selling the basket on his back at the market. And since he was a stranger to you, It would make sense for him to follow you so closely there if he wasn't from the village.

You let yourself relax, tense shoulders easing up as you finally come to the only conclusion that made sense. You were an Omega; A Beta had no better reason to follow you other than directions.

The sun still beats overhead, making the exposed skin of your face damp with sweat. With little thought, you wipe it away with the handkerchief stashed inside your pocket. It was little more than torn fabric that mother had no use for, but you appreciated when she had given it to you nonetheless. 

The market wasn't busy for this time of day, which you were grateful for. Less people to cast you a distasteful glare as you silently perused through the stalls in search for thread. It only takes a few moments to find it at a stand with colorful fabrics, pins and needles and textiles that were definitely worth more than anything you'd ever own.

The smile on your face lights up as you find the cheapest option available, speaking quietly to the stall owner you ask for it.

You're met with silence, its only when you look at them that you realize they aren’t even looking at you. Instead, you follow their gaze behind you, to the burly man who had somehow gotten close enough to block out your view of the sun. 

“Gorgeous too, huh?” he smiles down at your shocked face, even daring to lean down, hand gripping your jaw to force your head up, leaving your neck exposed to him. He’s not quick about it either, his nose coming to scent you as he indulges himself in the smell he finds there. 

“And where have you been hiding?” he whispers it, a secret between the both of you that your too scared to acknowledge. In stark contrast, you've been rooted to the spot, too scared to do much of anything as the complete stranger ungracefully takes his time mulling you over. 

It’s a funny thing, he can smell just how frightened you are, but it doesn’t mask the scent that made him follow you in the first place. 

The scene is far too intimate for such a public space, and subconsciously, you're aware of that. You know this isn’t right, you shouldn’t be letting yourself get so carried away by the stranger, even if he does smell wonderful. Nothing like any Alpha you’ve met. Although his presence is completely overwhelming, his scent isn’t, and he lets out a breathless laugh when you subtly try to scent him back. 

The only thing that snaps you back to reality is the stall owner clearing their throat, forcing you to realize how blatantly improper you were being. It’s far too embarrassing to handle, and mortification sets into your bones. The man pays them no mind, instead using one of his large hands to slam a few bills onto the counter.

“Whatever she wants” his voice comes out as a low and guttural thing, hoarse from days of disuse, as his breath fans across your face. He thinks it’s cute, the way your eyebrows shoot up makes his grin even wider. 

With shaky hands you point to the cheapest bobbin of thread, hands fumbling for your coin purse before he grabs your wrist. “What did I say, Omega?” its stern, but all you can manage to do is bumble over your words, eyes cast downwards as you try to ignore the embarrassment settling on your face. He was just trying to be nice, maybe he was a tad bit uncivilized about it, but his impropriety shouldn’t make it okay to decline such a kind offer. The thread is taken from the counter, his hand slowly ruffling the folds of your dress as he finds your pocket and drops it in.

At this point you’ve become a spectacle, passersby muttering not so subtly about just how close you are to him, how rude it was to make a scene like that in public. With a cough you back away, surprised to find that he doesn’t follow, only aims a grin at you as he continues to stare. Not wanting to leave on a sour note, you ask

“What’s your name?”

  Maybe one day you could repay the favor, although he didn’t look like the type to need to buy thread. He didn’t look like the type to care that much about his appearance at all, if you were being honest.

“its Uvogin. Gimme what’s in your pocket.”

“The thread?” with a wolfish smile he shakes his head no. It takes you a moment but clumsily you pad at the dress before finally finding your pocket and dipping your hand in to pull out the tiny wad of fabric in question. The only other thing in your pocket besides your coin purse. Your handkerchief. You don’t think about it as you hand it over to Uvogin, your head feels fuzzy just by his proximity. Don’t even think about how closely he must’ve been watching you to see that you had one, or how long he’d been doing so as he walked behind you and into the market. Right now, he could ask for a lot of things and you'd gladly hand it all to him with no second thoughts about it.

“You should head home. Maybe get some rest before it happens” he leans closer to sniff at your throat one last time, albeit a lot quicker than he had in the past “Although, I don’t think you’ll have much time.” The end of his sentence comes out in as a laugh, jovial enough to make you forget how sinister his final words were. With little grace, you slowly backpedal, eyes still on his before you turn around and walk out the way you came.

You smell. You reek of him. It’s the only thought in your mind as you clutch at yourself tightly, eyes cast downwards to avoid the shame of looking at others. There wasn't a pair of eyes that didn’t linger on you, most likely smelling exactly what you smelled; The stench of an Alpha. So thick and cloying that you couldn’t pretend it was anything other. Maybe you could rinse it off in the creek before you got home, but you doubted it. The smell permeated through your dress and settled into your bones. Quickly, you head out of the village and towards the sound of running water. 

He was handsome, his scent so alluring that it made your mind wander as you tried desperately to rinse it off of your skin. A hint of sweat, pine and something sweet you had no name for. Sitting on your haunches, you let out a whine at the fact that nothing you did could rinse it off, and part of you didn’t want to, anyway. He’d ruined your dress by doing little more than touching it. If your parents smelled it, who knows what they would do. Probably cast you out like they’d planned on doing when you tore your dress. Any little infraction was worth your disappearance. This would give them every reason not to want you around. 

It seemed to be getting hotter. So hot in fact you were half tempted to wade into the creek, dress and all, just to get the feeling to go away. The sun had been hidden by an overcast sky, clouds threating to burst at any moment, and you prayed they would. It could drown out any scent lingering on your skin, your clothes, the far recesses of your mind that held onto it like a bloodhound. Why was it so hot?

Wordlessly, you waded into the water, thinking little of the repercussions of coming home with a sopping wet dress as you sat down, letting the stream flow over you and around your shoulders. It felt soothing at first, like a cool bath when you were sick, but all too soon the water felt just as warm as you were. It. Was enough to elicit another strangled whine from your throat.

Slowly you stood, the weight of the fabric hugging tighter against your skin all too noticeable. This wasn't right. The sun was gone, the water cool, so why did you feel so sick all of a sudden?

It took a minute to fully accept it, as part of you didn’t want to. But you couldn’t excuse the need growing in your abdomen as anything else.

You had to leave here, quick. Get as far away from the village as possible. Away from the Omegas and your family, away from everything in order to have a chance at saving yourself.

Wading out of the water, you give no pause to the way your skirts cast dark droplets onto the dry ground. 

 With little to no hesitation, you make your way back onto the road before veering right, into the underbrush as you picked up the pace. Before, you'd have a day’s head start to get as far away as possible, but this was different. The telltale signs of your heat stirring low in the pit of your belly was a fortnight too early. Your thoughts were already starting to fog around the edges, an in a few hours all you'd be able to do was cry out from the sheer pain of it all.

 With every step you find yourself walking faster, legs getting whipped by the low lying brambles. The way they so easily tear into your skin going almost unnoticed by you in your sheer panic. It wasn't supposed to be this way, it’s a type of confusion that adds on to the delirium already buffing away at your subconscious. 

After a few minutes of running, only your panicked gasps keeping you company, the clouds burst above you. Fat drops soaking the underbrush and you along with it. In no time the ground beneath your feet becomes even more treacherous, mud and leaves and errant roots making you stumble and fall at every opportunity. After one nasty fall, you can't help but sit for a moment, a manic chuckle ripping through your chest as you examine your skinned palms. Your dress is filthy, the tear even larger than it had been when you set out this morning. Absently you wonder if mother will let you try to mend it before she casts you out for it. Without looking down at your legs, you already know the bruises that will be there from every bump and fall you’ve taken on your little journey. It does little to worry you, once the adrenaline wore off, maybe then you'd feel yourself start to care again.

With a sigh you let yourself rest. Hypervigilance slipping as you gaze up at the canopy in awe. How could rain be so loud? 

Mentally, you try to assess your location. There was a place not far from here that served as your hideaway in times like these. A fissure in the face of a sheer cliff, only big enough for you and any other Omega that had the misfortune of being cast out into the woods. It wasn't much, the crack was uncovered, the rain and wet still able to reach you, but that wasn’t what was important. 

Standing up gives you a better view of your surroundings. With little thought you start to head in the direction you remembered, down the slope of the hill in hopes of finding your salvation at the bottom. 

It doesn’t take long before you hear it. Crackling branches under heavy, heavy footsteps. It’s not a promising sign, to say the very least. Feverishly you pick up the pace, mind racing as you try to figure out who would’ve followed you. It’s not like you did much to hide where you were going, in truth you didn’t think about it at all. Mind glazing over, you don’t notice the thick tree root that’s in your way, stumbling over it as your palms meet the forest floor once again. Ungracefully, your body tumbles easily down the rest of the slope, a cry leaving you as you hit the ground repeatedly. 

Uvo’s laugh is audible over the thunderous sound of rain. Its jarring. A wretched reminder that you're actively being hunted down like an animal.

“Sounds like I’m getting close, huh?” he yells, still too far away for you to see him under the darkened canopy. His voice echoes and you can't tell where exactly he is behind you, only knowing that its entirely too close for comfort. Hazily, your mind makes the connection, his voice rattling back in your ears over and over again as you pick yourself up. 

You can’t say that you've gotten any faster after realizing who exactly was chasing you. The ache in your body from multiple falls was finally catching up to you, along with the heat that was settling low in the pit of your stomach that seemed to be burning even brighter than a few minutes ago.

After a few minutes of running, you see it and almost sob with relief. Thick with vines, the opening of the rockface, your salvation, is almost within distance. 

“I hope you're not thinkin’ of doing what I think you're gunna do.” Its not a yell. Not anything other than an irritated statement thrown so casually and so, so close to you that it causes goosebumps to rise on the back of your neck.  Quickly, you look behind you, a slight yip leaving your throat as you take in the distance between the both of you.

In a last ditch effort, your body works on autopilot. Fear drives you, pushes you faster and faster until the only thing you can hear is the thrumming of your own heart in your ears. He’s loud behind you, yelling something unintelligible as you try to make your escape. You're within reaching distance of the opening now, but his hands grab at you. The slickness of the rain serves in your favor. Easily you slip from his grasp, body lurching forward and into the opening as he tears at the shoulder of your dress.

The air surrounding him seems to vibrate with raw anger, something akin to a roar tearing through him at just how close he’d come to having you.

Big hands come to slam against either side of the opening as he peers down at your shrunken form. Chest heaving, the rain glints off of his skin and the image alone is enough to make you whimper in submission. He’s so tall, broader than any Alpha you'd seen, and he’s incredibly angry. Uvo’s gaze doesn’t leave you as the seconds tick by.  After a few moments of him trying, and failing, to collect himself he finally speaks

“I’m not gunna hurt ya, now come here” he says, and it sounds sincere enough that your fuzzy brain almost believes him. Almost gives in to the temptation of his scent, his open arms goading you to leave the small space.

“I don’t believe you” you whine, shaking your head ‘no’ as if he wouldn’t understand the meaning of your words.

It’s so unbelievably hot. The fat drops of rain hitting your face and soaking you through to your very core did little to relieve the feeling. if anything, it overwhelmed your heightened senses, every little drop on your skin felt like something you needed to pay close attention to.

“Just wanna make you feel better” the statement alone forces a whimper out of your throat, body edging backwards as if to physically deny him

“You can't make me feel better, no one in this damn town can make me feel better.” it’s a lot more hysterical than you meant it, but Uvo’s face contorts in confusion all the same.

It’s quiet for a moment as he assesses you. Big green eyes rake over your shivering form, more anger than pity bubbling to the surface of his features as he realizes how much he doesn’t like what he sees.

“You don’t know anything, huh?” he mumbles to himself, letting one of his large hands swipe away the excess water on his face before settling on his hip “What’s it gunna take for you to come out then?”

You want to tell him to leave, to let you be alone but another part of you wants something. Something you can't explain enough to even know yourself.

“Just don’t hurt me, okay?” no matter how much you try to calm yourself down it still comes out too whiny and nasally for your liking.

Uvo laughs at that, boisterous and loud and it almost seems to overpower the sound of heavy rain hitting the tree branches around you.

“I just told you I wouldn’t, you forget that already?” you have half a mind to nod in affirmation, “Come on out then” he gestures towards you, wolfish smile marring his face.

As if to try and soothe you, he asks for your name. The question eats away at the open air before you finally find your voice enough to answer him.

In the quiet that precedes your answer you realize numbly that It’s getting darker out. You have no provisions and now you’re drenched. If you didn’t listen and stayed put, the rest of your heat would be torture. There’s a lot to consider, truthfully too much to consider in your current state. The ramifications of your actions, the honesty of the large man in front of you, the means in which he planned to help, how long you could actually survive out here without him. Your brain functions moved with the viscosity of syrup. The more you thought about it all, the less it seemed to make sense.

Quietly, you make your way to the opening, Uvo lets out an excited laugh as you crawl ever closer to him. It doesn’t take more than a few steps before a gasp is being torn from you as he grabs you by the arm, pulling you completely out and into his embrace. It feels nice, albeit a little jarring, but you won’t deny the full feeling in your chest at his proximity. A big and sturdy hand rakes up your side as the other holds you to his chest.

With little thought, you bury your face in the crook of his neck, relishing in the scent that hasn’t been completely washed away by the rain. Its calming, maybe he’s pumping out pheromones to induce that emotion within you, but at the same time it makes the coil in the pit of your stomach reach incredibly high temperatures. It hurts, oh god, it hurts

“Hurts, huh? I can fix that.” You don’t remember saying it aloud, but the burly man responds quickly by tearing the flimsy fabric of your dress, making sure to rip through your underwear as well. When you whine at the sensation all he does is mutter “Didn’t expect me to let you keep that ratty thing did you?”

It’s a makeshift blanket once he tosses it onto the ground, saving your back from most of the drenched forest floor as Uvo sets you down, his own body hovering over yours. His warmth is so nice, nothing like what’s eating you up inside, and with needy hands you run your fingers through his hair, a high pitched whine leaving your throat at the groan you coax from him.

“Fuck” he growls “M’gunna knot you so good. Bet it’ll only take one time before I get you nice and round”

You nod up at him, delirious and wanting. The only thing on your mind being the feel of him under your fingers.

With little finesse, Uvo thumbs at the opening of your sex before sliding over the bundle of nerves that lies just above it. He smiles at the confusion on your face before slowly, slowly sinking one of his large fingers inside of your heat. Your body writhes with broken sobs at the feeling. Its unlike anything you ever experienced before. 

“All this for me, huh? Must really want it.” It comes out in a huff, his smile ever growing as you nod in affirmation. You can hear the slickness he’s referring to as his finger pumps in and out of you. 

Right now the wind was bustling, rain beating down harder than it had been all night, but all that you could feel was the comfort Uvo gave you. As if his wandering hands were stroking your very soul.

Unbeknownst to you, Uvo’s already dipped another digit inside of you, marveling at the way your body so easily opens up to his touch.  It’ll only take him a few more minutes of his fingers dutifully scissoring you open before he’s able to lay his claim. 

“Doesn’t hurt, does it?” he smiles as you shake your head, mouth open and panting as your lovestruck gaze meets his “Of course it doesn’t.”

He takes his time, languid strokes and teasing bites against your chest. No rush in his movements until you brokenly sob for him. The feeling in your gut was only getting worse with every movement. With weak hands you claw at him, trying desperately to pull his body closer.

His hand moves from your cunt, popping his digits in his mouth with a groan. When he finally sucks them clean, his hands go to his belt, “Impatient little thing” whispered from his lips.

The sight alone makes your mouth water. Too long and jarringly thick, his cock slaps up against his stomach. 

“Gunna make you feel a loot better” he mumbles, taking himself in hand. God, you want it, want every bit of him no matter the repercussions. He kneels above you, chest wet and heaving with excitement as his gaze lingers on your exposed pussy. A Grecian God chiseled from marble and sent here just for you. 

With steady hands he presses you your legs up, folding you in half until hes achieved the angle he’s looking for. You have no choice but to comply, whimpering as he guides himself into your aching cunt.

The stretch of it burns, it makes your body quake almost as if the size of his cock alone has rendered you weak. It’s an overwhelming sensation that eats away any rational thought until you can only focus on the piercing sharpness of it.

“Stop, please, s’too much.” You can't recognize the sound of your own voice. Its hoarse as if you'd been yelling for hours. Uvogin buries his nose in your neck again, hands coming up to press your legs to even further against your chest.

“Here… got somethin’ to take your mind off it” 

With little warning his teeth are in your neck, tearing a wretched scream from your throat as Uvo draws blood. True to his word, he sinks the entirety of his length within you without your notice. Only thing on your mind is the feeling of your flesh being torn open by him, claimed by him. 

There’s’ little compassion in the way his hips snap against yours. Its brutal, making you cry out even more as the force of it jostles the teeth still buried snugly in your neck. Your hands claw at the ground before eventually settling on his back. Uvo groans at your nails digging into him, spurring him on to go faster, harder, to give you everything he’s got until you drain him dry.

The noise of Uvo thrusting into your warm cunt is loud, almost deafening compared to the rain around you. It’s all you can hear; All you can feel as he doesn’t waste any time in finding the exact spot within you that makes you scream.

Every shift of his hips is maddening. Every sharp thrust enough to push the air out of your lungs. Eventually Uvo’s mouth pulls away from your throat, lapping at the bloodied mess he’d left there. You can't focus on it too much. Can't focus on much of anything at the present moment, only the slick sounds of his cock dragging in and out of you filling your mind. 

“Gunna need you to do somethin’ for me, doll” his words are almost too far away for you to hear. As if he’s underwater, it takes a light slap to your face in order for you to process them.

“Huh?” you ask dumbly. You can't remember if your voice always sounded that small. That meek. 

“M’not gunna last long with the way you’re suckin’ me in like this” he growls “Gunna need you to bite down.” One of his hands that was previously holding your thigh up reaches for the nape of your neck, pulling you up until your face is flush against the side of his throat. Something is growing inside of you, burning through your very being and he’s the cause of it. It’s mind numbing, this pleasure you’ve never felt before. Lazily you recognize it enough to know that your own orgasm is mere seconds away.

“Right here.” you nod, heat searing through you as his hips stutter. There’s something catching against your cunt now, impeding every kiss of his hips against yours as he struggles to fit the rest of his cock inside.

With an audible groan being your only warning, Uvo cums inside of you. It sears against your insides as something finally stops his movements, his body unable to do anything besides grind against your own. So full, you jerk with the feeling, finally letting the coil inside you snap. The scream that leaves your broken throat is cut off by Uvo shoving your face harder against his neck and, dutifully, you bite down. Its mere instinct driving you, or maybe the need to drown out your warbled cries for him. Either way, the wound makes him laugh, his hand pushing harder against you as if to force your teeth further into his skin. The tang of metal in your mouth does little to stop the ebb and flow of your orgasm as it washes through you. It’s too good, so good in fact you find yourself pulling away only to be met with Uvo’s unshakeable grip. Tears prick at your eyes at the sensitivity of it all, the overwhelming buzz that courses through you with no end in sight.

It takes a minute of blindly thrashing against him before you give up and settle on the wet ground below.

It’s completely pitch dark now and the rain has quieted into a slight drizzle. You can't see him, can only feel as the hand not gripping your neck finally lets your other thigh down to ghost over the plains of your face. 

“You're mine now” he whispers. Silently, you nod your head in agreement, not fully understanding the meaning of his words. It didn’t matter. Nothing truly mattered anymore besides the man above you. Uvo presses a lingering kiss to your neck, your jaw, before landing on your spit slicked lips. It’s almost soothing, the gentle touches his attentive hands leave on your body. Soothing enough to make you forget how you got here. 

With a gentle tug, he finally pulls out of your sex. The laugh that leaves his throat as his fingers explore the wetness that paints your lower body is euphoric. Soon enough he’s pulling you into his arms and standing up.

“Feel better?” it sounds like more of a statement coming from his mouth, but you nod all the same. As he starts to walk your eyelids droop in exhaustion, mind focused on the way his chest vibrates with every garbled sentence you can't quite hear.

[obiwanobi]

I'm just so very enamored with the idea of Dooku als Obi-Wans Master at the moment. There are so many possibilities, I'm going crazy. I love your writing style and your ideas, so I would be so very happy to know your thoughts about this.

At first, I was going to say “oh, is this a nice AU where taking Obi-Wan as his padawan makes Dooku stay in the Order and the whole lineage is happier?” but then I thought, ‘wait, no, I’m only here to make a dramatic tragedy out of everything’ and I got really into it and wrote 2k about it 🤷‍♀️

So let’s say that Qui-Gon still takes Obi-Wan as his padawan first, and that’s how he meets his grandmaster, Dooku, who’s still a Jedi at this point in time.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan aren’t a good match at first, and it’s the same, even a bit worse than that, in this AU: Obi-Wan might be grateful to have been chosen and be eager to learn, but their rocky start as a master and padawan duo and their very different approach to, well, basically everything, make things a bit awkward.

But Dooku? Obi-Wan adores Dooku.

Dooku is the antithesis of Qui-Gon; he is a fascinating orator, has a practical mind, favours a pragmatic approach to problems, and is also one of the best duellists in the Temple. And he’s almost certain that Dooku likes him too. His grandmaster might be intimidating at first (he’s even taller than master Jinn for Force’s sake,) but he also raised Qui-Gon, so the man has seen it all and can’t be surprised by anything anymore. When he comes to visit Qui-Gon, Dooku never forgets to ask Obi-Wan how his training is going, what form he likes the best (Obi-Wan doesn’t miss the opportunity to say that he finds Makashi particularly elegant and almost gets a smile in return) and one day, he even ends up helping him write a geopolitical paper about a planet Dooku has spent almost a year on. It warms Obi-Wan to feel a connection to their lineage when he doesn’t really understand his own master, and watching Dooku and Qui-Gon, two very different personalities, getting along so well, also gives him hope that he will one day have the same type of relationship with his master.

But then, Melida/Daan happens.

Obi-Wan decides to stay, and Qui-Gon leaves the planet with one less padawan. It takes a bit of time before Dooku manages to get Qui-Gon to talk about what happened and where is his favourite grandpadawan, but when he realises that Qui-Gon left Obi-Wan in a warzone, Dooku is outraged, and is on Melida/Daan three days later to formally ask Obi-Wan to reconsider leaving the Order. It takes a bit of time before Obi-Wan truly starts thinking about it, because “Master Jinn will never take me back. I’m very sorry, Master Dooku, but he was the only one who was willing to take me as his padawan. No one else will, especially now.” and Dooku scoffs, because he wouldn’t travel to the outer rim for anyone, and of course he’s planning to personally train him. He saw the potential in him, and would hate to see it go to waste. All of this if Obi-Wan can assure him that he won’t rebel at every opportunity, of course, because he won’t accept the betrayal of his trust. 

They both leave the planet together, as Master and Padawan. 

The next few months are... strenuous. Adapting to Dooku’s teaching methods is harder than Obi-Wan expected. His new master asks for discipline, practicality and complete control of oneself at all time, and doesn’t accept any nonsenses. It’s not something Obi-Wan really knows how to do after months with Qui-Gon “don’t think, just do” Jinn. There is also a new distance between Dooku and Qui-Gon that Obi-Wan knows is his fault, but can’t do much about it; he still hasn’t said more than two words to Qui-Gon since Melida/Daan (apologies that his master- former master accepted with a cordial bow and that was it) and is in no hurry to change that.

Nevertheless, Obi-Wan is happy. Dooku might be a bit snobbish, makes imperious demands and even disagrees with the Council just like his former padawan, but he also explains to Obi-Wan why his decisions and insistence on certain parts of his training are necessary, doesn’t shy away from philosophical questions about the Force or the Order (even if his opinion is sometimes bordering on blasphemy,) and is, after all, one of the most skilled Master in the Temple. He might be a severe figure of authority to everyone else, but his hidden smile at a witty remark from his padawan, or the use of a diplomatic loophole to get his way without having to ignite his lightsaber, always gets him a gentle hand on his shoulder and an almost-satisfied smile. It’s more than enough for him. 

And then, Qui-Gon brings Anakin Skywalker to the Temple.

Obi-Wan tries not to think too much about the rumours that say that he went all the way to the outer rim to get himself a new padawan. A padawan he chose this time. A padawan who’s the Chosen One.

 “Ridiculous,” Master Dooku scorns, his expression so dismissive that the few gossipy padawans (and knights!) around scatter in a second. “I saw the boy, and if this raggedy child is the Chosen One who’s supposed to save us all, we should all start building our own funeral pyre to save us some time.”

“Master, really,” Obi-Wan sighs, half-reprimand, half-amusement. He’s still glad his master shares his distaste with the idea of taking a child too old and too attached. 

And then, Qui-Gon Jinn almost dies on Naboo. 

The other Jedi that went with him doesn’t have the same luck. Dooku doesn’t huff and roll his eyes this time. He does spend a lot of time in the Halls of Healing at his former padawan’s bed. Apparently, Qui-Gon has been badly hurt, and if he should walk again soon, probably with a walking stick, he will never be able to maintain enough stamina to fight with a lightsaber again. It doesn’t stop him from wanting to train the boy, and even the Council and Dooku, for once on the same side, aren’t enough to dissuade him. 

And then, everything goes too fast. 

Obi-Wan is talking about possible hidden Sith in the galaxy at the breakfast table, and suddenly Dooku says “I’m leaving the Order”, and then he’s knighted by a master who tells him he’s glad his last accomplishment as a Jedi is something he’s proud of, and then his master leaves without a real explanation, and then they make a bust of him in the library like he’s dead, and Obi-Wan asks himself if he’s going to feel abandoned all his life. 

And then, Anakin Skywalker bumps into him. 

“You’re Obi-Wan!” he says way too loudly, looking up at him in wonder.

It’s Knight Kenobi to you, a voice that sounds suspiciously like his master echoes in his mind. But no matter how much Obi-Wan admires his master, he could never be as rigid as him.

“Master Qui-Gon said you were his padawan once,” Anakin says, excited, and Obi-Wan has never wanted to run from a conversation that badly before. “And that you were... the padawan of my... grandmaster? I think? So that means we’re sort of like cousins, right?”

“Not really, no. Jedi don’t think about the Order as a traditional family. I don’t mean that we’re not one, young one,” he adds when Anakin’s expression turns to dejection, “we just have a different approach to kinship. In a way, we’re all brothers and sisters.”

And that, of course, is the exact thing he shouldn't have said.

“So you’re my brother then? Wizard! I’ve never had a brother before! Does that mean you will spar with me? I want to learn EVERYTHING about lightsabers, for example, do they have unlimited energy? Can it really go through everything? Because I heard beskar—” 

Obi-Wan isn’t proud to say that he feels the urgent need to get away from him and never come in contact with that child ever again. 

But after their first encounter, Anakin doesn’t leave him any choice. Every time Obi-Wan gets some time off, the padawan is here, scarily good at annoying him until Obi-Wan gives up pretending to ignore him. 

He probably should be sterner with him. After all, he doesn’t own the child anything. But Anakin is always so happy to see him, impressed when Obi-Wan demonstrates the most acrobatic of Ataru’s movements, and eager to learn from him. Sometimes, he imagines Master Dooku’s face confronted with Anakin, and can’t help but laugh out loud.  It helps to forget the void Dooku left in his life for a time.

(There aren’t a lot of holos sent to him from Serenno these days. Dooku must be busy.)

“My master can’t fight,” Anakin says petulantly one day, plopping down on Obi-Wan’s couch like the sulky teenager he is, “He’s restricted to the Temple or boring political missions, and so am I because of him. All he does is tell me to meditate and make me ‘reflect on my feelings’, or whatever that means. How good can a master be if he can’t teach me to protect myself and others?” 

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan warns, kicking the padawan’s feet away from the caf table, “please tell me you didn’t say these exact insensitive words to your master right before slamming the door and coming here.” 

Of course he did, Obi-Wan thinks when Anakin starts a rant about being held back and how stupid meditation is. That night, Obi-Wan forces him to sincerely apologise to his master after a brief fight ("stop nagging at me, Obi-Wan! You’re not my master!” “Well, apparently, you don’t even respect your own master, so I’m very glad I’m not.”) and is just a bit stunned when he finds Qui-Gon Jinn on his doorstep a few days letter, asking him if he would agree to take Padawan Skywalker on his next off-world mission. 

Obi-Wan really, really wants to say no. He only taught Anakin a few Ataru moves that the lightsaber’s instructor normally doesn’t introduce until a few years later because Anakin wouldn’t accept a no from him, he never signed up to co-parent a defiant padawan! Especially Qui-Gon’s padawan. The entire conversation between them is already awkward enough.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“No?” Qui-Gon replies, sipping his tea like they’re discussing the weather. “You’ve done a good job at teaching him some rationality and a few duelling tricks until now. I haven’t been able to wield a lightsaber for a while now, but it’s hard to miss the handprint of my own master all over Anakin’s sudden blend of Ataru and Makashi in his movements.” Obi-Wan is pretty sure his ears and his face are burning by now. “Don’t you think he could benefit from some real experience? Maybe start to put things in perspective? Show him why the diplomatic skills and temperance we preach are so important even for the violent or difficult conflicts we’re asked to solve?” 

And really, what is he supposed to say to that? 

Qui-Gon leaves his quarters before he manages to gather the courage to ask why he chose him of all knights for this task. It really doesn’t make any sense to Obi-Wan.

The very next day, Anakin shows up at the hangar bay ready to see the stars, bag on his shoulder and enough excitement to make the whole ship vibrate under his feet. 

“If you cause problems on purpose, I’ll send you back to your master faster than you can say pod-racing.”

“I promise I won’t, Knight Kenobi,” Anakin replies, all angelic smile and respectful padawan face. It’s the first time Anakin has called him by his title, and somehow it sounds a bit wrong.

Anakin does end up causing problems on purpose. It’s ridiculous but also kind of genius, so Obi-Wan only shakes his head and says “you’re really going to be the death of me.”

And for some years, it works. Qui-Gon stays Anakin’s master, but he does send him to learn from other masters and knights. More and more, though, Anakin asks for Obi-Wan, and Qui-Gon rarely refuses.

“You two are the last people I thought would get along,” Mace Windu tells them a few successful missions later, after witnessing them bantering back and forth from their respective beds in the Halls of Healing. “Nonetheless, I’m glad you do. It’s good to see close lineages strengthening their bond to each other.”

Anakin blinks so many time at the compliment that Obi-Wan doesn’t hesitate a second before throwing his pillow at his face the second Windu leaves the room.

It’s a shame that Obi-Wan never manages to ask Qui-Gon about why he trusted him with his padawan. 

Because Qui-Gon dies on Geonosis. 

He shouldn’t have been there, Obi-Wan and Anakin keep saying. But they both know that you can’t stop Qui-Gon Jinn to do what he wants. He shouldn’t have gone to Kamino by himself, he shouldn’t have followed the bounty hunter to Geonosis, He shouldn’t have been in this arena, he shouldn’t have been killed before the help has come. He shouldn’t have died right in front of his former master— because of his former master. 

Anakin’s master died that day, but when Obi-Wan saw Master Dooku ordering the attack on the Jedi, he felt like he was losing two masters at the same time. 

Now there is a war coming, and the Council is talking about Master Dooku being a Sith, and he should stop saying Master Dooku, he knows, and people are asking how good can a Jedi be when raised by a traitor, and Yoda is talking to him about knighting Anakin and what he thinks about it like he’s his master now, and Anakin refuses to talk to him, and that probably has to do with the fact that he lost an arm and a father-figure to Obi-Wan’s master, and Obi-Wan would like to sleep for an entire year now, thank you very much.