#the fact that you give me detailed continuations for free makes me emotional

[merrybloomwrites]

Beast of Burden

Summary: Y/N is dealing with a rough relationship in which her boyfriend forces her to distance herself from friends and family. When she finally breaks free she bumps into her old friend, Damien, who helps with the fallout from the relationship.

Word Count: 3.9K

CW: abusive partner, verbal abuse, manipulation, name calling, physical abuse, threat of self harm, sexual abuse (nothing intense, he doesn't force himself on her or anything; I can clarify if anyone wants that before reading)

None of these warnings are about Damien! They're all about the ex

AN: Based on this anon request ; Might have changed details a bit but tried sticking close to the ask!

To clarify before you read, Y/N does not work at Smosh.

It's a heavier story, with some sensitive topics so please read the content warnings. If I missed anything please let me know, but I tried to include everything I could.

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Making the decision to end your relationship with Seth had been easy. Actually following through and breaking up with him, however, was the hardest thing you’d ever done. 

Not because you were sad to end things. But because you were scared. Scared of him and how he would react. 

Seth was not a nice person. Sure he started out nice. He was sweet when you’d matched on Tinder, asking questions to get to know you and sharing facts about himself that drew you to him. He was a gentleman on your first date, taking you to a restaurant he’d correctly guessed you would like and bringing a bouquet of your favorite flowers. 

The relationship progressed, and he treated you very well. At first. 

And then things started to change. It started subtly, and you hadn’t realized what was happening. He’d ask you to hang out with him all the time, and you thought it was nice that he wanted to spend time together. He didn’t want you texting people when you were with him, and you figured that he just wanted your focus to be on each other. 

Things started to escalate, and little by little you became cut off from your friends and family. Seth changed, his kind exterior giving way to show the cruel man underneath. 

It started with words, him breaking you down mentally. He’d tell you that you’re lucky to have him since no one else wants you around. 

Then came the emotional neglect. He no longer asked you about your work or how you were feeling. Sex was just about him. You were there for his pleasure. It didn’t matter if you reached your climax, and cuddling after was out of the question, leaving you unsatisfied and feeling used. 

He’d asked you to move in with him multiple times, but you always declined, much to his chagrin. At first you told him you weren’t ready and since he was still nice Seth, he accepted that. When he continued to ask, you told him you didn’t want to break the lease on your apartment since that would cost a huge amount of money. Which was true at first, but you’re now only a couple weeks from this lease ending and you moving to a new apartment, though he doesn’t need to know that. But still, the excuse worked, and you’re extremely grateful that you have a place of your own. 

Because tonight, Seth had harmed you for the third time. The first was over a month ago. You’d been out with a group of his buddies that night. He’d gotten drunk, and when you got back to his place he yelled at you for embarrassing him in front of his friends. You had no idea what you’d done wrong, but he was livid. When he slapped you across the face your ears rang and your eyes filled with tears. You ran out as quickly as possible, drove home and burrowed under your covers as you sobbed over what had just happened. 

He was apologetic the next day, saying he had too much to drink and deeply regretted his actions. He bought you flowers, something he hadn’t done in months, and promised it would never happen again. 

That lasted three weeks. You were spending the night at his place and the two of you were watching a movie. It was nice, his arm wrapped around you while a romcom that he’d let you choose played. Later you’d yell at yourself for being so naive, for thinking he really just wanted to spend quality time with you. It shouldn’t have been a surprise when he started pressing wet kisses to your throat and placed his hand roughly on the inside of your thigh. 

You pushed him away, and that’s when things got ugly. 

First was name calling, him saying you’re a bitch, a cunt, somehow both a whore and a prude. When you’d had enough you stood up to leave. He followed you down the hallway, grabbing your wrist in a vice grip and shoving you against the wall. In just one second he’d bruised your arm, caused a bump to form on the back of your head, and knocked the wind out of you. 

The tears fell before you could leave his grip, and rather than realizing that he’d hurt you, he’d  sneered, annoyed that you were crying. 

That was the moment you had finally decided to end the relationship. You just weren’t sure how. 

And then tonight. You’ve been dreading seeing him, but you still don’t know what you’re going to do so you have to keep up appearances for the time being. You go over to his place, bringing take out that you pick up along the way. Which is apparently the wrong move. 

“What the fuck is this? I thought you were making dinner,” he says as you walk in, not even greeting you or giving you a kiss hello. 

“I was finishing a project at work and knew you’d be hungry so I grabbed your favorite instead of making you wait for me to cook,” you explain, hoping he’ll accept that. He doesn’t. 

“God you stupid woman! You can't do anything right. I should be your priority. Not work. You know what? I think it’s time you stop going. I’ll provide the income, you stay here and be the homemaker.”

“I don’t even live here, Seth.”

“That’s another thing. Enough with this living part. You’re getting rid of your crummy apartment and moving in here with me. End of discussion.”

Everything he’s saying is so grossly misogynistic that for a second your rage overrides your fear of him. 

“You don’t get to make these decisions for me!” You yell. “I’m not giving up my apartment and I’m sure as hell not quitting my job. I’ve worked my ass off to get to where I am. Oh, and you providing for us? On your income? I’d like to see that miracle.” 

You regret the words as soon as you say them. While true, it’s obvious that you’ve just poked the already aggressive bear. 

“You shut the fuck up, right now!” He yells as he slaps you across the face. “Maybe I’d better help you,” he says and his hand goes to your throat. Your eyes are wide in terror as he attempts to choke you, but you fight back, scratching your nails in his arm and forcing him to let you. 

Grabbing your bag you run to the front door. “We’re done, Seth!” You shout, voice coming out scratchy. “You will never see me again. We’re through.”

As quickly as you can, you rush back home. Your mind is spinning, and you’re afraid he’s going to come for you so you pack a bag of essentials and leave again. You find a hotel and check yourself in for the night, figuring you just need to be safe and you’ll make a plan in the morning. 

After a night of restless sleep, you have a half cooked plan ready. You don’t feel safe in your current apartment, so you just need somewhere to stay until your new lease starts in just two and a half weeks. It’s a Wednesday so you still have work to do, and that keeps you focused for the morning. Then you send an email to the manager of your new building to inquire if you can move in any earlier. After that you try to find any short term rental solution that won’t bankrupt you. The hotel is nice, and you booked it for a couple of nights, but the price is way higher than you can do for more than that. 

Plus, you had somehow managed to book a hotel fairly close to the Anaheim Convention Center. During Vidcon. You don’t know how you missed that fact when you were checkin in, but you were pretty damn stressed so you figure that had something to do with it. 

At lunch you decide to leave the hotel to find some food. Checking your neck, you’re happy to see Seth hadn’t left any marks on your skin so you don’t need to worry about covering anything up. 

You grab your essentials and brace yourself for the crowd you’re likely about to see. The hotel itself isn’t too busy, but once you walk out the front doors you’re greeted by hordes of people. Your heart rate increases as the thought that Seth could be in the crowd forcefully enters your mind. The rational part of your brain knows that he has no reason to be in this part of town, but you’re still on alert. 

Which is why you jump when you hear a male voice call your name. Instead of turning towards the person, you ignore him and keep walking. But again you hear someone calling for you and because you don’t want to be rude, you stop and turn. 

You’re relieved to see it’s not Seth, but rather your friend Damien. It’s been over a year since you’d seen him at the last D&D campaign you’d done together. You both had kept in touch, but calls and texts had obviously stopped recently due to Seth’s intervening. 

Damien smiles, his face friendly as always and he says, “It’s been ages! How have you been?”

Plastering on a hopefully convincing happy smile you say, “I’ve been good! How about you?”

“Yea, nothing to complain about. What are you doing here? Are you going to Vidcon?”

“No I uh, just happened to stumble over here by accident,” you answer with a laugh. It’s a terrible excuse but you think he accepts it.

“Well a couple of us are headed to grab some lunch. Want to join?”

Truthfully, your answer is no. You want to quickly pick up food and retreat back to your hotel to continue searching for places to stay. But he looks so genuinely glad to see you, and so hopeful that you’ll say yes. You don’t want to disappoint him, always trying to keep everyone else happy, that you find yourself answering, “That sounds great, I’d love to come with you guys.”

And that’s how you find yourself with a group of Damien’s friends/coworkers sitting at a local casual restaurant. It’s nice, would even be fun if you didn’t have so much to worry about. 

You chat with everyone, but Damien is most excited to catch up with you. When lunch is delivered you’re handed a Greek Salad by the server who swiftly moves away. 

“Didn’t you order a Caesar salad?” Damien asks. He’s right, and it intrigues you that he was paying close enough attention to notice that. 

“Yea, but Greek is fine too,” you reply. You scan the table to make sure you didn’t get someone else’s food by accident, but everyone seems happy with their meals. Looks like you were simply given the wrong thing. 

“Are you sure? I can ask the waiter to get you what you actually ordered,” Damien says. 

“I’m sure. I was debating getting this one anyway so it’s okay,” you answer. It’s a lie, Greek is one of your least favorites, but you don’t want to make a big deal. It’s just one meal. Plus you’re used to eating things you don’t love since Seth had different tastes and you often cooked what made him happy. 

As plates are being cleared away your phone dings with an incoming email. Not believing your luck, you read the message multiple times. It’s from your new building manager, letting you know you can move in as early as Saturday and they’ll adjust your first month's rent to reflect that. 

It’s a miracle, knowing that you’ll be able to move somewhere Seth can’t find you in just a couple of days. It’ll be insane trying to pack and get everything to the new place so quickly, but the peace of mind will be worth it. 

“Who’s that?” Damien asks, snapping you out of your thoughts. 

“What?” You say, not having heard what he’d asked. 

“Oh, you just looked happy so I was wondering who it was. Special someone?”

You laugh uncomfortably, unsure how to even explain your relationship status. “That was my new building manager saying I can move in this weekend, which is exciting news.”

“Congrats on the new place!”

“Thanks. Just trying to figure out how I’m going to get everything there since I don’t have time to hire anyone.” 

“I’m around this weekend. I could help you. I’ll see about getting some people together,” Damien says. 

Even though he has always been one of the nicest people you know, Damien’s kindness and offer to help you move at the last minute still takes you by surprise. 

“I really can’t ask you to do that,” you say. “I’ll be fine. Moved myself before.”

“Nonsense! You didn’t ask, I offered. And you shouldn’t have to do it yourself, even though I’m sure you are more than capable. Just, give me your current address and we’ll be there Saturday with at least one pick up truck.”

“Thank you, Damien. Thank you so much, really, that is a huge help.”

“Not a problem!” After settling the bill the group all stands to leave. 

“We have to head back, but I’m so glad I ran into you,” Damien says. 

“Me too,” you reply, and you’re surprised how much you mean it. 

“Don’t forget to send the address and let me know what time you want us there.”

“I will. Thank you again!”

“Any time. Can I give you a hug goodbye?” He asks. It’s so Damien, asking consent for a simple hug from a friend, and you wonder why not everyone can be as caring as him. 

“Of course,” you answer, lifting your arms and meeting him in a quick, gentle embrace. 

You finish your goodbyes and head back to the hotel so you can do a little more work. 

The next few days are busy. You’re still spending nights at the hotel, knowing you wouldn’t be able to sleep at home where Seth could find you. 

You do go to the apartment during the day, packing as much as you can between work projects. Friday night you pick up the keys to your new place. 

On Saturday morning you’re loading the first set of boxes into your car when three pickup trucks pull up, two people hopping out of each. 

With all of their help, the move goes incredibly fast. You’re officially in your new place by lunchtime and you treat everyone to a meal to thank them. 

It’s fun hanging out with Damien’s friends again, so when Courtney asks you to come over for a chill paint and sip night on Friday you quickly agree. 

Over the next couple weeks you slowly get used to being around other people again. It’s weird at first, and you get anxious that somehow Seth knows you’re with friends and he’s going to step in and drag you away, but you remind yourself he’s out of the picture for good. 

You spend time with just Damien as well, getting coffee or lunch a couple of times. It’s lovely, and there’s never pressure with him. He cares about your day, asks where you want to go, and you try to actually have your own opinion rather than just saying what you think would make him happy. 

Of course, when things are getting better, Seth comes back into your life. 

You’re out at a bar with Damien and his friends. It’s a Friday night, and you’re actually having fun. Nothing feels off, as you chat with Amanda, but then you see something out of the corner of your eye. 

Turning to look closer, you see someone all too familiar. Seth is there, across the room, and luckily hasn’t seemed to notice you. 

You excuse yourself and go to Damien. Since he drove you there you need to let him know you’re leaving. 

“Hey,” you say to get him attention. “I’m going to head out.”

“Oh, okay, I’ll grab my stuff,” he replies. 

“No, you don’t have to do that. I’ll get an Uber or something. You stay and hang with your friends.” As you say this you look over to where Seth is. Your blood runs cold when you see he’s spotted you. 

“Y/N, I promised to drive you tonight. If you’re ready to go, then I’m ready to go,” he says, just like that, like it’s so easy to go with what you want. 

He starts saying his goodbyes and you notice Seth making his way over. When Damien turns back to you he picks up on your anxiety. 

“What’s wrong?”

You don’t want to tell him, really you don’t want to talk about it, don’t want to admit your faults. But you need his help right now so you reply, “That guy is my ex. I don’t want to talk to him and I’m afraid he's going to follow us.”

“I’ll handle it,” he says. He leans over and says something to Shayne and Ian, and you see him subtly point to Seth. 

“All set,” Damien says to you. “Cmon, let’s get out of here.”

He puts a protective hand on your back and leads you outside. The air is refreshing, but you’re still on edge. 

It’s silent as you both get in the car and put on your seatbelts. It isn’t until you’re on the main road that Damien says, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know,” you answer. It would be good to let it out and tell your story, but you don’t want to burden him with it. 

“That’s okay. You don’t have to say anything. But I’m here to listen if you want to.”

His kindness is what sets you over the edge, and tears spring to your eyes as you say, “We were together almost a year. Started great but it got bad. It, uhm, really didn’t end well.”

You subconsciously stroke your neck where he had attempted to choke you as you think of that last horrible night. The move doesn’t go unnoticed. 

“Did he hurt you?” Damien asks quietly. 

“Yea. He did,” you reply, your voice so low you're surprised he could hear you. 

Damien doesn’t respond, just reaches out to hold your hand in his. You continue to cry as he drives, his thumb rubbing comforting circles on the back of your hand. 

The rest of the drive is silent, but Damien’s presence beside you keeps you calm. Once you pull into your building's parking lot he checks his phone and says, “Shayne texted a minute ago. Says that guy is still there.”

“Seth,” you whisper. 

“What was that?” 

“His name is Seth.”

“Well, can I just say I’m happy that you got out of that situation. You deserve better than him.”

You try to believe Damien’s words, but you just can’t. Not after months of Seth telling you that you're useless. Worthless. 

“Thanks,” you say, a simple enough word to hide the turmoil within. 

“Do you want me to come in for a bit?” He asks. 

It almost makes you cry again, how this person you’d basically ignored for nearly a year was willing to give up his time to make sure you’re okay. But instead of that you smile and say, “No, I’m good now. Thanks again. For everything.”

“Of course. If you need anything let me know.”

“I will,” you say, even if it is a lie. You can’t ask him for anything more than he’s already done. 

You say goodbye, leaning over the center console for a brief hug. 

The next morning Seth texts you for the first time. You ignore him but apparently he doesn’t get that. Because he texts again the next day. And the next. He calls. Leaves voicemails. DMs you on social media. 

He goes from being sweet, apologizing, telling you he was wrong, begging for you back, all the way to yelling at you, telling you that you made a mistake and that no one else wants you, that you’ll die alone. 

It’s all awful. 

It goes on for over a week. He reaches out at all hours of the day and night. 

You’re hanging out at Damien’s apartment when another text comes in. He can tell it’s bad by the fact that all color drains from your face. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks. 

“It’s nothing. Everything’s fine,” you reply. 

“Y/N, please don’t lie to me. You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Something is obviously wrong.”

“Seth just texted me again.”

“Again? How long has he been texting you?”

“Since he saw me at the bar.”

“Have you answered?”

“No! Not at all but he keeps messaging and calling. And he just said-”

You cut yourself off, unable to read it out. 

“What did he say, Y/N?”

You hand him the phone so he can read it himself. You're mortified by the message, by Seth saying he’s going to harm himself if you don’t get back together with him. If you weren’t so scared, you’d realize he’s using your caring nature to manipulate you. 

“Can you look at me?” Damien asks gently. 

You turn and meet his gaze, his expression serious. 

“First of all,” he begins. “His actions are not caused by you. Whatever he does, that is on him. That’s his decision. If he were to harm himself it would not be your fault. It’s important that you know that. Second, do you have any way to contact his family?”

“I have his sister's number,” you answer. 

“I’m going to call her and explain the situation. Let his family know what he’s saying and they can take care of him to make sure nothing happens. And when that’s done, we’re blocking him. On everything. So he can’t reach you ever again. Okay?”

“Okay.”

You open your phone to her contact and hand it to Damien. You watch as he takes charge of the situation. He does exactly what he said he would, and shortly everything is taken care of.

After it’s all said and done, he takes your hands in his and said, “I don’t exactly know what happened in that relationship, and I don’t know everything he said and did to you. But it wasn’t your fault. He is not a good person. But you are. You are a wonderful person, and I’m so grateful that I have the privilege of knowing you. And I understand it may take time for you to heal from this, but I promise, you will heal. And I’ll be here to help you.”

Without hesitating you pull your hands from his in order to throw your arms around his neck. His wrap around your waist and he pulls you in close, holding you tight to him. You can’t think of the words to even begin to thank him, to explain how important he is to you, but you hope this gesture communicates some of those thoughts. 

It’s going to be quite a process to recover from everything Seth did, but you know that it will be alright, so long as you have Damien by your side.

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AN: Thanks for reading! I have a Protective Spencer story coming out in two weeks!

[buckychristwrites]

Could This Be | Chap. Seven | j.t.

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x F!Reader

Summary: One minute, you're single and working for AFC Richmond as the team's medic. The next minute, you're in a fake relationship with the team's handsome striker who you know next to nothing about.

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: Discussions of Previous Emotional & Physical Domestic Violence. Cussing. Fake Dating

A/N: Just a lil chapter. I hope you guys enjoy :)

Masterlist | Could This Be Masterlist | Main Blog

The last week had been a lot, to say the least.

Work had been average, but it was outside of work that had been hectic. With the bomb Jamie had dropped about the movie premiere, you found yourself in a rush to get a proper outfit. From the details you got from Keeley, it was necessary to dress up, but not necessarily in a  completely formal fashion. It took the better part of the week, but you eventually found a dress that you deemed appropriate. It took up a majority of your free time, stressing over this stupid event that you didn’t even really want to go to.

Which brought you to this moment, in the car next to Jamie, on the way to the premiere of a movie that you didn’t even know the title of. All you knew about it was that it centred around European football, which meant many big name players were invited, including all of the AFC Richmond players. 

It wasn’t until Jamie gently pulled at your hands that you noticed you were picking at your fingernails.

“Ya alright?” 

The sudden contact was only jarring for a brief second, but you were becoming accustomed to the touches from Jamie. From cheek kisses to hand holding, they were all becoming part of the routine when around people, but the consequence of that was that the behaviour bled into the moments alone. So much so, in fact, that you weren’t being as strict with making him follow the rule of letting you know before he touched you. For the most part, though, he still did. 

“Just anxious.” 

You knew that he knew better. He saw it in the way you flinched when he had told you that many Premier League players, current and former, would be at this movie premiere. He saw it in the panic you had shown all week in regards to the topic. And he could see it now, as you sat tense in the seat. You hadn’t outright said anything about it, but the closer the two of you got to the theatre, the more fear and unease filled your chest. 

Your fingers were still tenderly held in his. With your tongue pressed hard into your cheek, you were having a hard time looking at him, opting instead to continue staring out the window.

“Hey.”

Letting out a sigh, you finally looked over at him. Underneath his deep blue blazer was a white button up shirt, the top few buttons undone and the collar looking sloppy. But he looked striking in 

It. You knew  the whole night would be filled with everyone struggling for his attention.

But in this moment, it was all on you, as he leaned his head forward to make sure you were looking right into his eyes before saying, “It’s me and ya. I won’t let anythin’ happen to ya.” When you didn’t immediately respond, he raised his eyebrows. 

You didn’t need him to say it. You already knew that much.

The theatre arrived faster than you were prepared for, and before you knew it, the car came to a complete stop. Through the tinted windows, you could see the crowd of people filling the red carpet with a swarm of cameras, photo and video alike, trying to capture every moment. As the driver climbed out of the car, you felt your heart in your throat. Jamie gave you one last look.

“Ready?” It was a whisper. You nodded.

“I am.” 

The door opened, and you were suddenly blinded by the flashing of cameras that flooded the world around you. Once Jamie climbed out of the car, you were then deafened by the screams coming from fans, who were barricaded along the sidelines. 

Jamie turned, giving you a loving smile and an outstretched hand. Only for a few seconds did you hesitate before you placed your hand in his and climbed out of the car. A moment was needed for your eyes to adjust, but once you could see again, you allowed yourself to have a proper look around.

Over the years, you had watched many movie premieres on the telly, or online. But being on the red carpet yourself was another experience in itself. The feeling was incredibly surreal. Celebrities that you had watched on the big screen surrounded you. Paparazzi were taking pictures of Jamie, but with you pressed into his side, they were also taking pictures of you. Jamie turned his head so his lips were just millimetres from your ear.

“You gotta smile.”

Without intending to, the words made you laugh. When you turned to look at Jamie, he was laughing as well. The flashes from the cameras were so bright that for a period of time, the only thing you could see was Jamie’s laughing face, eyes like crescent moons.

He led you down the carpet as you tried not to look at any of the video cameras that were following his every move. You kept close to him, the smell of his cologne overpowering everything else. In the near distance, photographers were shouting Jamie’s name, demanding his attention. He continued to walk though, with his hand pressed to the small of your back. An area was set up specifically for posing for photos, and Jamie approached the area to wait. 

“Do you want me to wait elsewhere?” You asked him, pointing to the other side. He looked at you like you had grown three heads.

“Why would ya do that?” He asked. You put your hands together.

“So you can get your picture taken…” He waved a hand.

“Oh no,” He said, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you close. “You’re taking pictures with me.” The surprise filled your face.

“Why?”

He leaned in close to your ear again before whispering, “Gotta include me girlfriend, yeah?” 

Your cheeks grew very hot, and stayed that way up until Jamie and yourself made your way in front of the photo backdrop of the movie logo and other sponsor names. The yelling began immediately, begging Jamie to make specific poses or to turn in their direction. You plastered the best, most natural smile onto your face. 

“Jamie! Jamie, over here!”

“Give us a smoulder, Tartt!”

“Can we get one by yourself? Step aside, love!”

“Nope!” Jamie called, that being the only comment he responded to. “She’s not goin’ anywhere. So fuck off.” 

He turned to face you, his smile wide. It was hard not to return it. Though you weren’t in love with your photo being taken, it wasn’t as bad in this moment, with him by your side. 

You couldn’t help but stare into his eyes, as they twinkled in the light. God, is he fucking handsome. 

“I can go, if you want,” You said quietly. He shook his head.

“I want ya here.”

The warmth in your cheeks deepened. The photographers were long forgotten about, as the two of you opted to continue to look at each other. Jamie’s smile faltered slightly, his eyes dropping down your face. 

“Give us a kiss!” A photographer shouted. The other photographers chimed in with the same sentiments.

It must’ve been the adrenaline, or maybe it was the fact that you were already looking at him, and he was already looking at you, with his eyes bouncing between your eyes and your mouth. But whatever it was, without hesitation, you leaned forward and planted your lips against his. You expected him to recoil, to even pull away, but instead, he brought his hand up to your head, his fingers curling into your hair as his thumb pressed against your cheek.

A chorus of “Oooooooooooo”s came from behind. Jamie smiled against your lips before slowly pulling away. A laugh broke through your mouth as the two of you were swarmed by the other members of AFC Richmond. Sam and Dani grabbed Jamie’s shoulders, excitedly shaking him as Colin, Richard, Isaac, Bumbercatch, Jan Maas, Coach Beard, Roy, and Nate Shelley all surrounded the two of you. It was hard to be upset over the ruined moment when you were surrounded by so much excitement and love, but then it dawned on you: the moment you just experienced? It wasn’t real. There was nothing to be upset about.

So why were you so upset about it anyway?

The cameras were really going off now, the yelling even more intense now that there was a whole crowd of people in the shot and not just two. It was hard not to feel slightly overwhelmed by the whole thing, but you smiled anyway. 

“First red carpet, yeah?” Isaac asked you, pulling your attention from the cameras. You nodded. His smile only grew wider.

“It’s weird, innit?” Colin asked. It was clear by his expression that he was sensing your discomfort. You let out a laugh at his question.

“Weird is a bit of an understatement.” You felt like you were living someone else’s life. In their shoes, in their dress, on the arm of their man. But you couldn’t very well tell them that, could you?

As the team began to disperse again, a voice called out from behind you.

“Richmond. My friends.”

Your blood ran cold, feet frozen to the ground below them.

Jamie turned when he realised you weren’t with him, a smile still on his face. When he looked at your expression, it instantly vanished.

“What’s wrong?”

“I- I have to-” You stammered, your eyes wild as they searched for an exit. When they found a bathroom, you pointed in its direction. “I’ll be-” You couldn’t even finish your sentence, the air trapped in your throat as you rushed away. The world around you began to spin, your ears feeling like they were filling with water. You thought you heard someone call your name, but you continued towards the bathroom. 

When you entered, you shut the door behind you before throwing the lock. You didn’t even realise how nauseous you were until you were falling in front of the toilet, dry heaving without anything coming up. The pounding in your chest was like a drum. On the other side of the door, you could hear someone knocking loudly, but the panic stopped you from moving.

He’s here.

He’s fucking here.

You knew there was a chance, a high one, that you would see him. But now the moment had arrived, and your mind and body weren’t anywhere near ready. 

You’re safe.

You’re fucking safe. 

Jamie won’t let anything happen to you. 

Slowly straightening, you turned to face yourself in the mirror. The tears were streaming down your face, and you were thankful for waterproof mascara and setting spray at this moment. Carefully, you took a paper towel and dabbed at your cheeks until the dampness was gone. The pounding on the door continued, and you could hear Jamie calling your name. Sighing at your reflection, you gave yourself a nod before heading to the door. Shaky fingers unlocked the door before pushing it open. 

“What’s happened?” Jamie asked, rounding on you the second you walked through the door. You opened your mouth to speak as his hands reached for you, holding your head on either side as he searched your eyes. 

“Jamie-”

“Jamie Tartt.”

You closed your eyes.

Pulling away from you, Jamie turned towards the source of the voice.

“Zava,” He said. 

Opening your eyes, you were greeted by the face that had haunted you for over a year. His long hair was pulled back, as it always was, and he was dressed in a cream coloured suit with a white undershirt. His eyes were trained on Jamie, as if he didn’t yet notice the presence next to him. You cowered behind Jamie, trying to remain unseen. 

“How are you, my tiny friend?” Zava asked, holding his hand out for Jamie, who stared at it for a moment before taking it in his. 

“Don’t recall us bein’ friends, exactly.” 

You pressed your lips together at the bluntness of the statement. Everyone in AFC Richmond knew how much Jamie hated Zava, and it was never appreciated by you more than it was at this moment. 

“Nice to see ya, mate,” Jamie said, in a clear closing of the conversation, before turning back to you. You watched Zava intently, waiting for him to leave. He turned to walk away, but at the last possible second, his eyes met yours, causing him to pause. 

Your name rolled off his tongue, and your entire world felt like it was going up in flames.

Jamie’s expression changed from annoyance to dumbfounded as he turned back to look at Zava. He was forgotten by Zava now, however, as his attention was completely on you. 

“You look lovely tonight,” He said quietly, taking a step towards you. Instinct had you taking a step away, your eyes jumping back to Jamie.

“What-” He said quietly, tilting his head further to understand. Lips pressed together in an effort not to cry, you reached forward and took Jamie’s hand in yours, giving it a squeeze. He stared at the contact, subconsciously entwining the fingers as everything came together in his mind. 

The transition from confusion to realisation was a painful one to see cross over his face. 

Jamie turned to Zava quickly, placing himself directly in front of you, like a shield. His hand, however, was still holding yours. 

“Alright, mate,” He said firmly. To anyone who didn’t know Jamie, they wouldn’t hear the anger in his quiet voice. But you did. Part of you was thankful for the public backdrop, or else you wouldn’t know what he would do with it. He began to lead you away, careful to keep himself between you and Zava.

“I’d love to get together sometime,” He called after the two of you, and when you turned, you found his eyes exclusively on you. “For tea. Or dinner, perhaps. To… catch up.” You began to shake your head, but Jamie was faster with the response.

“I don’t think so.” 

There wasn’t time for another word to be said, for Jamie turned and walked so quickly down the carpet that you were almost running to keep up with him, mostly in fear of being dragged. He led you inside the building, where people were slowly starting to file in for the start of the movie. Glancing down an empty hall, he pulled you a great distance down and waited a second before turning back to you. 

“I’ll kill him.” He sniffed. “Say the word and I’ll kill him.”

There wasn’t an ounce of humour in his voice.

You watched as he ran a hand down his face, before pointing in the direction of the door. His eyes were filled with a fire you had never seen before.

“If that prick eva comes near ya again, I’ll murder him with me bare hands.” He was damn near shouting now, his hands trembling in anger.

You were overwhelmed. Overwhelmed with fear, overwhelmed with anxiety, but in this moment, overwhelmed with something else, too.

Placing your hands on his shoulders, you brought him back to reality. Back to you. He froze, turning to face you once more. You held eye contact for a second before closing the space between yourself and him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and laying your head on his shoulder. A few moments passed before his arms snaked around your torso, burying his face into your shoulder. All you could smell was his cologne, and it was keeping you centred. 

“Let’s go watch the movie,” You mumbled. He pulled away, still close as he leaned down and placed his forehead against yours.

“We can leave,” He mumbled. You closed your eyes as he grabbed your fingers and ran his own across them. “If you want. I could take you home.” You shook your head lightly against his.

“Let’s stay.” 

He nodded, taking your hand and leading you back down the hallway. You felt lighter in this moment, lighter than you had in a long time. For even with a person who you viewed as a threat being so near, you knew you were safe. 

The auditorium was filled by the time the two of you had made your way in. So much so that the only seats were in the back. The two of you sat down, looking around anxiously. A few rows ahead, you could make out the Zava’s outline, making you recoil slightly in your seat.

“Can’t believe you fuckin’ dated him,” Jamie mumbled, as if reading your mind. “Ain’t he married?”

“Divorced now,” You told him. “After she found out about me, of course.” Though you refused to look at him, you could still feel his stare. Your eyes began to well up again as you wondered how Jamie would react to this news. The idea of him view lesser of you was unbearable. 

Instead, he took your hand in his again, filling the space between your fingers with his own. It didn’t feel like an act this time (although, it never really did with him). He brought the topside of your hand up to his mouth and gave it a kiss. A flash from the side let you know that someone caught a photo of the moment, but you didn’t turn to confirm it, and neither did he. The lights went out at that moment, the beginning credits starting on the screen. As everyone else applauded in excitement, you turned to face forward, scooting back in your seat and hoping it wasn’t a long one.

It was a long one, unfortunately, for when the credits began to roll and the audience began to applaud, you were being shaken awake by Jamie, your head laying on his shoulder. Disgruntled, you sat up, blindly joining the rest of the crowd as you clapped and hoped that your makeup hadn’t smudged during your accidental nap. 

“After party?” Jamie asked as he rose from his seat. Although by his tone, it was clear he already knew your answer. A snort left your mouth as you shook your head.

“If by that you mean me ordering pizza and laying on my couch in my knickers, then yes.” 

He pressed his lips together before saying, “Sounds like the kind of after party I’d want to be invited to.” 

You didn’t get the chance to respond as you and him got sucked into the crowd exiting the building. He was looking around as if searching for something, finally pulling you in the direction of the bathrooms. 

“Be right back,” He said just outside the door, kissing your cheek before disappearing through the bathroom door. You leaned against the wall and watched the people walk by. Celebrities of all statuses passed by without a single glance in your direction. The weirdness of the day fell over you again. 

Somewhere amongst the crowd, you heard someone call your name, and when you turned, you saw Dani, Richard, Isaac and Bumbercatch heading towards you. Behind them was Zava, his intense stare making you shrink inside yourself. 

“We are going out for drinks and karaoke!” Dani exclaimed excitedly. “Zava’s treat.” You allowed yourself a glance at the retired footballer, before looking back at Dani.

“That sounds fun!” You said, trying not to sound too strained.

“Are you and Tartt comin’?” Richard asked. You inhaled deeply, looking at the bathroom briefly before turning back to him.

“You guys go ahead, I’ll find Jamie.” 

They nodded in agreement before wandering off, but it wasn’t lost on you that one of them stayed behind. Zava approached you, making you press your entire body into the wall.

“Please come,” He said in a low voice, his hand reaching up to your cheek. You jerked away, but he still forced his touch against your skin. It began to burn at the contact, and you felt your breathing rate increase. “I am divorced now. We can discuss… us.” You rolled your eyes.

“I’m taken,” You said simply, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s over.” He let out a loud laugh. 

“You can’t possibly think that Tartt is any sort of upgrade.” 

“Compared to you? A soggy lunch sack would be an upgrade.” 

The both of you turned to see Roy Kent, standing with fists at his sides. Relief overflowed you. Zava swallowed hard. 

“This does not involve you, Kent.” Roy shrugged.

“The problem is, I don’t give a fuck,” He said in his most sarcastic voice. You bit back a smile, so grateful for Roy at this moment. The hand dropped from your face, and you felt like you could breathe again. Zava began rounding on Roy, who tipped his chin up towards him.

“What’s going on?”

You turned to see Jamie, who’s eyes were on Zava. Suddenly, he was once again between the two of you. 

“Zava here was just leaving,” Roy said, tilting his head towards the doorway as he narrowed his eyes at Zava. Zava looked back at Jamie, who also had fists at the ready by his sides. Though he didn’t have the height that Zava possessed, you knew who would win in a fight, and with Roy by his side? Zava didn’t stand a chance.

Without another glance in your direction, Zava whipped around and stalked out the door. Roy and Jamie stared in that direction until they were sure he wasn’t coming back. 

“Thanks, mate,” Jamie said to Roy, who grunted.

“Wasn’t for you.” 

You smiled softly.

“Thank you, Roy.”

He nodded, not saying another word before walking off. Jamie sighed sharply before turning back to you. 

“Home?” He asked gently. You took his hand in yours. Part of you considered telling him about the afterparty with the team, but, selfishly, you decided not to.

“Please.”

Before you knew it, you were safe in the backseat of the car. A sigh forced it’s way out of your mouth as you laid back in the seat. All of the evening’s anxieties filled your head as your brain finally forced you to feel them all at once. Tears quietly streamed down your face, your eyes trained on the soft roof of the car. 

Seeing him… The way he looked at you…

It was too much.

“Hey,” Jamie whispered when he looked at you, turning to face you. Sniffling, you tried to turn your head away from him, but he hooked a finger under your chin and forced you to look at him. Hand on either side of your head, he wiped your tears away. “You’re alright, love.”

Was it him? Was it you? It was hard to say. But somewhere among the tender moment, you found yourself kissing him. The privacy of the back of the car allowed for more passion, more intensity behind the kiss this time. He pulled you out of the lap belt until you were straddling him in his seat. While your hands were still on his face, his found your legs, pushing your dress up your thighs until his fingers were curling around the fabric of the thin thong you wore underneath. Against your thigh, you could feel him grow hard.

The car came to a stop in front of your house, but you barely registered it as your fingers tangled in his hair. He whispered your name against your lips, seeming to pull away, but you desperately leaned forward and caught his mouth against yours once more.

“Stay,” You mumbled between kisses. “Please. Stay."

~

TAGS

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[gotpineapple]

Sometimes an old man wonders Otto Hightower x Reader

 Summary: Otto is a little insecure about his age but his loving wife disagrees with his thought process

Warnings: Talk of infertility, implication of sex

This is pure Fluff

Y/n Hightower was young. Young enough to be Otto’s daughter. In fact she was only two years his daughters senior.

She was his second wife. By the gods he had loved his first wife, loved her with all his being. But now after two years with his new wife, he felt shy. They were intimate as any married couple, hell their marriage most likely shared more intimacy than most in Westeros.

 Septa’s had talked of her being an ill choice as wife due to her unnaturally painful monthly bleeding. The rumours of her body not being suited for childbearing had made a uncertain hole in her heart and future.

And that is how her father had come knocking at Otto’s door, so she could at least get a gentle husband.

 Otto felt humiliated by his own emotions. He was an old man with grandchildren, blushing as he thought of how he had come to care for his young wife.

 She was a curious soul, the lady Hightower. She sought answers to all the little details of the world, she read and read till her temples ached with all she had discovered. And by the god’s did she love animals.

 Otto did not know what had bewitched him to let her adopt a stray kitten from the streets or take in that small hurt bird they had seen in the garden in the reach. Now they had a black kitten called Sooty and a small bird (Otto was sure Y/n just didn’t know what the bird was when she insisted that it was a bushtit) called Pearl.

 That curiosity in her had bewitched him. Her never ending curiosity and capability to observe the world while looking for every possibility.

 Now he sat at his desk and wondered: What can an old man like him give such a woman? At some point, he would be grey and frail and her smiles would not have the same glint of adoration they now had.

 ”What ails you my husband?”, a gentle voice startled him as now in front of him stood his lady wife. Slowly she walks over to his desk and lays her hands on his shoulders.

 ”Hello, dear”, he answers shortly and lays his own hand on top of one of hers. Y/n furrows her brows at him dodging her question and his curt answer.

 Sighing softly she start kneading his tense shoulders. Otto closes his eyes and relaxes under the gentle treatment letting his hand fall to his side.

”Now will my husband tilt his chin and let his lady wife give him a small loving kiss?”, she inquires after ten minutes of silence and her working on his shoulders.

 Otto leans back and tilts his head so that she can bend down to kiss him. The kiss is gentle and lingering. Pulling away Y/n pulls on his chair. ”Scoot”

 ”What?”

 ”Scoot back so I can have a seat”, she repeats and steps back from trying to pull on his chair. Otto lets out a chuckle at the stuborness of his Y/n. His beacon of light.

 When he does as he is told, his lap is soon occupied with a smiling being. Who had given him the right to have her, must have been a lunatic. Such treasure wasted.

 ”You are sad”, Y/n whispers her own eyes wide and tender as she cups Otto’s cheek. ”Will you not tell me why?”, she continues her own worry rising by the minute.

 ”Sometimes an old man wonders”, he begins as he looks down and takes her free hand into one of his own. Her delicate skin in his rough hands.

 ”Yes?”, Y/n encourages now having a feeling of what this moment of vulnerability was about.

 ”You are wasted on an old man. Soon as the years go, you will still be young and vigorous while I’ll be a grey hollow tree trunk rottening on my feet”, he says with quiet anger. His own limits angering him.

 What he doesn’t expect are Y/n’s glassy eyes staring at him as he turns his gaze back up. ”Oh my dear”, he goes to soothe and raise his own hand to cup her face but she swats his hands away making him furrow his brows.

 ”Do not ever let yourself wonder such things again”, she begins, ”I am not a perfect creature. I cannot give you a son. I will never bear my own child, Otto. But you resent me naught for that. You are a fair bit older than me but you make me feel indescribable things”, her voice gets shaky as she continues.

 ”Even if you turn grey and frail tomorrow, I would not leave you. Don’t you realize it? I am so happy and vigorous because I know I have you. My husband, my tender and wise husband holding me close every night. There is nothing you cannot give me because your heart is my treasure”, she sobs as she presses their foreheads together.

 Otto feels his own eyes getting glassy as he lets a loving smile graze at his features. ”I love you, my beacon”, whispers and lays quick soft kisses onto her lips.

 ”And I love you my tower”, she whispers back a wet wide smile coming to her face, the words never ceasing to light joy in her heart. ”Remember, my tower. I am the light that shines in your halls but I will not shine anywhere without my tower protecting my light”

 Otto hums at her poetic words content with sitting like this. Forehead against hers, and his hand tenderly on her breast to feel the beat of her heart. It is when Y/n bites at her lip and a flush spreads to her chest that he knows what his touch is awakening.

 ”What ails you wife?”, he smirks as he looks at her hooded eyes and feels her heart picking speed.

 Y/n doesn’t dare to look at him even though her smile is still lighting up her whole face. Her soft hand comes to press his hand tighter at her breast. ”M-make love to me, my husband. Have me so that I can feel your touches for days”, her words are bold but her voice is timid.

 Otto smiles at his wife's innocence and gives her a passionate kiss. ”Go wait for me in our bed. I will finish this and then you can have me for the rest of the night”, he promises and gently helps up from his lap.

 With a soft gaze and a gentle pat to her bottom, she makes her way to heir bed, with a floating skip under her step.

This is a one shot but I have a multipart Otto story coming soon :) 

[sweetbillwriting]

The Finer Things

Mask On, Mask Off - Part 4

Description: Ines lives a modest life in Brooklyn but has a secret, a valuable painting. Out of nowhere Vincent De Gramont appears and wants to help her sell it. He welcomes her into a life of luxury the question is just why?

Characters: Vincent De Garmont, The Marquis, From John Wick 4.

Setting: This story is set in my own universe, so not exactly the John Wick universe.

Warnings: 18+, prejudice and stereotypical thinking about nationalities, mentions about sex, mentions about prostitution.

She was at The Louvre. She would go to an event at The Louvre. Ines looked at the impressive glass pyramid outside of the museum with Vincent next to her. The car had just dropped them off and she wasn't prepared for the event being at the world’s most famous art museum. Christ, the Mona Lisa was hanging there!

She looked around with big eyes while Vincent showed their invitation for the guard. There were rich, well dressed people everywhere. The men in formal wear and the women in sleek dresses, showing off stereotypical Parisian curves, in other words, not many curves at all. Even if Ines was dressed up she felt like a stain on white silk. All the women looked perfect in high heels and smooth hair but it was also one more detail that stood out. All of them wore masks, extravagant masks fitting for a masquerade party in the 1800th century.

She had known she wouldn't fit in but had believed she would feel more okay with it but now didn't feel as sure. Without saying anything the Marquis took her hand and pulled her into a corner, hidden by a pillar. Ines looked at him curiously while he stretched out his hand. In it was a red mask, decorated with rhinestones in a similar color.

“I thought you would have a red dress,” he said, not as an excuse, more as it was just annoying facts. Ines looked at the mask.

“Will everyone have these sort of masks? Is it a orgy party or something?” She asked while putting the mask against her face. Vincent didn't say anything, just put on his own extravagant mask in black but with peacock feathers and gold glitter.

“Why is your mask so much prettier than mine?” Whined Ines and looked at her own mask again.

“Because I let a designer do it. I didn't have time to get one for you. I didn't know I would have a date for the night.”

Ines looked up at him from her mask, meeting his green eyes surrounded by the colorful feathers.

“Date?” Said Ines as a reflex.

“Yes. They call a guest a date in the invitation so you're my date.”

The Marquis didn’t give away any emotions so Ines accepted his answer.

“Should I help you with that one?” He nodded towards her mask and Ines took up it towards her face again. Vincent walked around her to tie it around her head, making a perfect bow with the red ribbon but it wasn't anything Ines noticed, how he put energy to make it completely symmetrical.

“When we are inside I will let you mingle,” said Vincent bluntly and fixed his cufflinks.

“Okay,” said Ines with a nod, she knew how to mingle.

“And I will be… around,” continued Vincent. Ines looked up at him with furrowed brows.

“Around? You mean we will not go together?”

“I promise you, having a tall, handsome, well dressed man like me by your side will not make rich men talk to you. It's better if you mingle alone, tell them about your painting… Maybe you can flirt a little?” He said the last part carefully, like he had encouraged her to prostitution. Ines smirked and looked down on her feet. It was noticeable he hadn't understood how her Friday nights used to look. She was an expert at flirting, how else would you get free stuff?

“Okay. That's fine. But can I call if there is something?”

Vincent looked down at her again and as a symbolic gesture he opened his jacket, showing off his phone in the inner pocket, but also a gun sticking up from the waistband of his suit pants.

“I will answer.”

×××

It came natural for Ines to mingle around with people and even if she was nervous at first, walking around among all the rich fine people she relaxed quickly. Behind the mask she could be someone else and instead feeling like the stupid American girl, she felt exotic and sexy. There were many curious eyes on her.

She told people about her painting, flirted and received business cards. She felt pleased with herself when she called Vincent. She hadn't seen him all night but if she was honest, when she was her flirty self he would just be in the way.

“Already done? Someone interested?” He said calmly. Ines stood in a corner outside the ladies restroom talking with The Marquis on the phone. She was a little tipsy on champagne and leaned against the wall. She couldn't understand how these rich people could drink so much without seeming affected.

“I have twelve business cards…” she said, pleased. Vincent cleared his throat.

“Mhm.”

“What? Isn't that good?” Ines said disappointed.

“No it's good…” The Marquis sounded weirdly detached and Ines felt the nerves come up again.

“Can we meet where the car dropped us off?” He asked.

“So we should leave now? I really thought it would be an orgy,” she joked but didn't get a reaction from Vincent.

“Just meet me, now.”

Ines had a weird feeling while walking out to Vincent. There was something that felt off. It was everything from his mood, the gun but also the fact she hadn't seen him all night. It felt like he was hiding something.

He stood by the black car without his mask, Ines took off hers too and walked up to him with quick steps. He looked irritated, with pursed lips and his hands deep in his pockets.

“Are you seriously irritated with me for something? I just did what you told me to do!” She said annoyed and crossed her arms. Vincent looked her up and down and she could see his hands move in his pants pockets. He cleared his throat and seemed to examine her face.

“Just let’s go home…” he muttered and opened the door for her. Ines rolled her eyes and jumped in. It felt like she could never do anything right. It had felt so promising in the beginning of the night.

In the hotel she walked to her room and pulled off the uncomfortable dress and put on a big t-shirt. She was ready to go to bed. She had nothing to do, no good company and was also tired by all the champagne she had been drinking but when she had just crawled down under the cover a light knock could be heard against her door.

“Come in,” she said just so Vincent would understand he could actually open the door and walk in and he did. He wore just his slacks and the suit shirt, his suspenders hanging on his hips. He had a glass in his hand and looked at her softly.

“I'm sorry for my bad mood…”

“Did I do something wrong?” Asked Ines carefully and played with the cover.

“No, no… It was just something else…” he said with a sigh. To Ines surprise he suddenly sat down on the side of her bed and placed his glass on her night stand. They weren't even three feet from each other. If she leaned forward she would have been able to look down his shirt, see his smooth chest but Vincent's usually proper manner made her feel weird about it.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She said softly. Maybe he had things he needed to talk with a friend about but didn't have any friends? He gave her a look. He looked intoxicated and she wondered what the amber liquid in his glass was. The Marquis licked his lips and with some hesitation he leaned towards her and kissed her lips softly. Ines had seen it happen, his smooth but doubtful movement and felt her pulse go up at once. He actually kissed her. His lips were soft and plump and he tasted strong of the spirit. He opened his eyes slowly, they were obviously affected by alcohol but maybe something more. Ines couldn't tell.

“Do it again…” she whispered. Vincent laid his hand on her neck and with his thumb on her jugular, he pushed her face up towards his. He kissed her again, more determined this time and it made Ines moan into his mouth. He continued kissing her and a sneaky tongue pushed in between her lips. Even if she got exactly what she had wanted she wasn't pleased and stood up on her knees to be able to deepen their kisses even more. She moved his hand down from her neck to her waist where the thin cotton t-shirt was the only barrier between his hand and her naked body. With a hard grip around her waist he pulled her close to his body and leaned back on his elbow. The kisses heated fast and his hand moved up so his thumb dragged on the underside of her breast. To be close to Vincent was too amazing and Ines couldn't stop the giggle from jumping out from her full lips.

“And you said you weren't interested at all…” she teased and looked at Vincent's intoxicated eyes. For a moment she thought he would smile but it turned to a painful grimace and he shoved her away softly but determinedly.

“Of course you were forced to talk…” he muttered and stood up. Ines looked at him confused but it turned to anger fast.

“What do you mean with that? What? You come into my room and push your tongue into my mouth but think I should just be quiet??” She said upset and got a hard gaze from Vincent back. He snatched up his glass from the night stand and then turned to the door.

“Forget this happened.”

He chugged the last of the spirit in his glass and put it down on the stand again before walking to the door.

“C'est juste une jolie fille… Ne détruis pas tout pour une chatte…”

He muttered for himself. Ines looked at him upset, she was sure he had said something bad about her and without thinking she threw a pillow in his head. His perfect hair got ruined by his neck and he stopped in his steps.

“Did you just throw a pillow in my head?” He said through his teeth and turned around slowly. Ines felt a knot in her stomach when she saw his killer look. This was not the man she had been with this last week.

“No?” she swallowed hard and sank down on the mattress.

The Marquis stood and looked at her with dark eyes before walking up to her slowly. Ines felt panic spread in her body, would he hit her?

“Up!” He exclaimed when he stood by the bed. Ines looked down at the cover and swallowed hard but then did as he said. She was too afraid to find out what would happen if she didn't do what he said. She stood just in front of him. Even if she wasn't that short she felt tiny when she stood in front of him. He had his arms crossed and she could see the veins trying to push out from his skin.

“I should… Punish you for your behavior… But…” he threw his head back and groaned loudly. In a fast movement he attacked her lips with his, so hard it felt like she would fall. Ines just kissed back with a beating heart. She let her emotions guide her now and just let it happen. Her otherwise questioning self would have asked what he actually wanted but his kisses were too passionate to stop just to ask such a question.

Vincent sat down on the bed and with a hand on the back of her thigh he prompted her to straddle his lap. She just followed his directions and let herself disappear into his bubble where it tasted like spirits and spearmint and smelled like floral perfume and vanilla. She was used to men smelling bad or wearing too strong cologne but he smelled of the scents she herself liked.

Vincent threaded his fingers through her hair and with a light pull he got her to lean back.

“Yes I am interested. Okay? But I can't be. I can't. So now you must help me end this. Prove I can trust you,” he said slowly, like he explained something to a child.

Ines leaned back even more and looked between his eyes. She didn't understand but also knew she never would. Vincent let her go and doubtfully she stood up and let him do the same.

Vincent cleared his throat, fixed his hair and his clothes. It looked like he thought he could get back into his hard shell just by fixing his appearance but Ines looked at him differently now. There was something softer, more insecure behind his hard exterior. He wasn't as well polished as he tried to seem.

Vincent walked to the door and turned around and looked at her with big eyes.

“Good night.”

“Good night…” she answered while playing with her fingers in front of her. She wished he could stay, sleep close to her and maybe show more of his soft self but he had asked her to keep away and she would respect that. It was obviously important for him, even if she couldn't understand what a make out session with her would harm.

×××

The next morning Ines did everything to be ready to meet Vincent again. He had visited her dreams that night, with naked skin, soft kisses and an open heart. It felt like her own heart was trying to escape when she woke up with a sweaty neck and another moisture between her legs. She wanted him so badly and she needed to find out why he couldn't just let her come close.

She did her make up to perfection, in that natural, modest way he seemed to like and then looked through the clothes he had got her. She had a tight pencil skirt and a lavender colored silky blouse. It would do, even if it would have been a better outfit with heels. She left her feet bare just like he always did and tippy toed out from her bedroom. The big window in the room connecting all of the suite’s rooms welcomed her out with bright sunlight and she felt it gave her power to try to come close to Vincent, talk to him in a real, intimate way. She looked around in the suite but realized quickly that it was empty. He wasn't there. Ines looked in through the doorframe to his bedroom where the bed already was made and none of his things were on show. She thought for a second that he maybe had left her but knew he wouldn't. She knew him that well now, he wouldn't just leave.

She accepted that he once again had left and ordered up some breakfast. She didn't have a problem activating herself either and planned to go to the library and flirt with European tourists in hotel bars. Just because she wanted The Marquis she could still entertain herself. By lunch she left the suite to take the elevator down. She could see the other guard standing outside of the room they had the painting in, otherwise the corridor was empty.

“Excuse me, do you know where Vin… The Marquis is?” She asked him out of curiosity. He looked at her with a weird look before answering.

“Juste derrière toi.”

Ines looked at him confused but also a bit annoyed, if he could understand her, he must be able to speak English?

“Right behind you, he said.”

It was Vincent's voice, just behind her and that made her jump. As a reflex she turned around and hit his chest.

“Don't scare me like that!”

Vincent looked between her face and the spot she had hit with furrowed brows.

“Sorry, just a reflex,” she said, embarrassed and looked at him with blushing cheeks. She looked at him up and down where he stood in his camel colored three piece suit and perfect hair. He was so beautiful and the burgundy colored shirt made his green eyes pop. Vincent nodded a little and turned to the door to the suite. Ines didn't react to him being alone because she just admired his looks. The full lips, high cheekbones, his jaw… But what was that? Something red was smeared on his jawline and her heart stopped because it looked like the perfect shade of red lipstick but it wasn't lipstick. It was blood.

“Is that blood?” She walked closer to see better and Vincent gave her a wide eyed look. He looked stressed for a moment before he looked away.

“Where?” He dragged his hand over his neck.

“Here, let me,” she said and wet her thumb with her tongue before trying to rub the spot away.

“It's from a close shave, right?” She said with a smile and looked deep in his eyes. Vincent looked back at her, letting her wipe away the blood with her saliva. They look deeply in each other's eyes, much deeper than they had before. Something happened right then and there between them none of them had expected. Ines understood it wasn't his blood, Vincent's could see she didn't care whose blood it was. He nodded as an answer to her question even if the answer didn't matter.

Ines sucked her thumb clean while Vincent looked at her with big eyes. He cleared his throat awkwardly before taking her hand in his and opening the door to the suite.

“I met a person interested in your painting…” he said softly while leading her in through the door. Ines felt her pulse go up from his warm hand but also the memory of him watching her suck her thumb. She knew he was up to no good but she didn't care. He was a bad man, just like Faith had said but she had never cared about that.

×

[wildelydawn]

KP Recfest List: Big Centric/BigChan Edition.

Alright friends, I'm going to use all my brave/courage stats to compose this list of Big-Centric and BigChan fic recs for @kprecfest. This list is definitely not complete, and I'm always looking for more BigChan fics or fics that center around Big as a character, so please feel free to rec your own!

In no particular order:

Student Paper Award by clandestinegardenias

Rating: E Pairing: Big/Chan Status: Completed Summary: "Chan has no doubt that Big sobs into his pillow every time Kinn hands him back a paper covered in red ink. That only makes Chan want him more." Why you should read this: Okay, firstly, I'm totally biased here. As someone who has pined after a professor throughout graduate school, I'm almost embarrassed with how much I related to Big here. Almost is the key word here because that's exactly why this story is so brilliant. Clandestinegardenias has brought my KinnPorsche university!AU dreams to life with just one fic. The pining Big has for Kinn is so well done, and how Chan begins to develop feelings toward Big through helping him with his paper is just *chef's kiss.* All the build up and all the angsty moments cultivate into a very explosive and satisfying ending. On top of this, the little details about research, about the tension in academics, the "and they're sharing offices!" addition. My heart! This fic and every part of it is all so well done that I am on my way to apply to another degree. (Jk... unless... 👀) Favorite line: "Later, they share a pizza and toast each other with bottles of Coke, and Chan tells himself it’s enough."

So lovers say by littlerietveld

Rating: E Pairing: Big/Chan Status: Ongoing (5/?) Summary: "big was never actually in love with kinn, everyone just thinks he is, so chan pretends to date him to put a stop to the rumours. feelings ensue." Why you should read this: Alright. I confess. I love fake dating as a trope, especially when one of the characters has power over another. This story takes this classic and beloved idea and adds a very real twist to it: that maybe everyone knew that Big is/was infatuated with Kinn. Big suffers for it, and the author does a really wonderful job with giving us how Big endures some of that gossip and judgement by detailing Big's workouts and his internal dialogue. Then, in steps Chan, who's facing his own budding feelings after proposing the fake dating. The setting and dialogue in this story make my heart giddy and make me want to throw my pillow. Favorite line: "'Give me a hickey,' Big says in a rush, unable to say anything else, unable to explain what he’s feeling, just needing something to prove his and Chan’s relationship; to show everyone that he is not in love with Kinn; to get them to stop believing this godforsaken rumour."

This Symphony is a Dance Between Us by The_Old_Astronomer

Rating: G Pairing: Big/Chan Status: Ongoing (1/2) Summary: "While recovering from getting shot, Chan leaves the medical wing for a walk and a much needed cigarette. He's out on a balcony, enjoying the night air, when he hears music nearby. Feeling drawn to it, he heads in the direction of the melody to find out who's playing. It's not who he expected at all." Why you should read this: Injured Chan?? Big being a pianist??? Is that not enough to convince you? If not, let Astro's beautiful writing be the reason why you join her BigChan agenda because she's doing a damn good job making it happen. First, I love the fact that Chan is injured in this fic. Seeing the head of the body guards at his most vulnerable is galaxy brain thinking on Astro's part. Second, the set up is actually so exquisitely simple but is so wonderfully developed. At the core of this story is Chan being drawn to beautiful music and then asking Big to continue playing. But Astro takes this and so many emotional and beautiful details to it. What can I say? I love a story that takes seemingly small moments and makes them utterly breathtaking. Astro's written another fantastic BigChan fic, so check that out too. Favorite line: "But hope is a tenacious thing. It’s resilient, like a tree; once the roots are entwined with the earth and the branches start growing, it can be hard to cut down. So despite Chan's intensely pragmatic nature, he waits and he hopes."

Drowning Like a Stone by Nyxelestia

Rating: T Pairing: Big & Chay, KimChay Status: Ongoing (7/?) Summary: "Despite Porsche's desperation and Kim's manipulation, Chay was hit hard by the events of Season 1. Five outside perspectives on Chay grappling with the aftermath of the mafia madness." Why you should read this: I went into this fic knowing that Nyxelestia would bring her phenomenal writing and character analysis into the KimChay fandom and I stayed because of that, but now I am absolutely rooted and emotionally invested because of how she develops the relationship between Big & Chay (and quite frankly, I'm adoring these chapters on them and wouldn't mind another 10 or 100 of them.) Nyxelestia gives a lot of depth to Big and also makes him absolutely hilarious. The idea of Big taking Chay under his wing, hearing him out, giving him lessons on the mafia life and more, is something so brilliant but also incredibly poignant because while Chay was betrayed by Kim, Big was betrayed by Ken, and to put these characters together!!! I just!! I am at a loss. After reading Chapter Five, I leaned back in my chair and whispered, "Oh fuck." Nyxelestia explores the implications of both of these betrayals with such great care, and for that, I am blown away. Favorite line: "In the quiet of the small lounge, Big wondered if his breathing sounded as loud to them as it did to him. Once upon a time, he’d wished someone would say those words to him, he’d dreamed of Kinn saying that to him. But now that it actually happened, Big felt…nothing." Runner up favorite line: "What the fuck did ‘stanned’ mean?"

push and pull by Martynax

Rating: E Pairing: Big/Kinn/Porsche, KinnPorsche Status: Completed Summary: "Look,” Big says, finding enough strength in his body to do this. “You don’t have to worry about me trying anything. You don’t have to tell me that Kinn is yours.” He assumes that that’s what Porsche is trying to do. “I know my place." ... Why you should read this: When this fic first came out, I was biting my fist the entire time. In case you didn't know, Martnax writes some top tier smut for the KinnPorsche fandom and Christ on a pogo stick, did they deliver that and more: with a threesome. Please. But before I get to how incredibly hot their writing is, I do need to point out that Martynax built such a painful and believable background and emotional state for post-canon Big in this story; the details about Big's mother, how he joined the bodyguards, his reluctance to talk to Porsche about his actions/feelings. But it's well balanced with the development of his new relationship with Kinn and Porsche. I, for one, could not stop smiling when Kinn and Porsche crash Big's movie night; the description of Porsche with his head in Big's lap is so sweet even though I know my mans is having a crisis. The ending to this fic is wonderful, emotional, and smutty: everything I would want in a KinnPorscheBig fic. Still hoping for a sequel. Favorite line: "The consequences could be too much. But he also understands that if he doesn’t at least try, he won’t ever forgive himself. He’s already poured his soul out to them, handing them his heart shouldn’t be that difficult."

All Along you were Blooming by mortimerlatrice & nuwildcat

Rating: E Pairing: Big/Tay, KinnPorsche Status: Ongoing (2/3) Summary: "Finding a second chance at love isn't something either of them thought was in the cards. Noticing that there was someone in front of you all along, takes something changing to open your eyes." ... Why you should read this: I don't even know where to begin with this one. I only read it for the first time a few week or so ago, and I've already revisited it a dozen times, not just because of the beautiful writing but also because of the jawdropping art. But let's start with the writing first; Tay is given so much voice and life in this story. If you told me his familial details, career, and background from this story are all canon, I would believe you, 100%. That's now much care nuwildcat puts into Tay's development, and you can expect that same amount of care and cultivation in all other aspects of this fic. For example, the cocktails. I know nothing about alcohol, but the descriptions of each drink were mouthwatering and so vivid. Pair this with Tay and Kinn being business associates! Incredible. But they're not the only dynamic duo; nuwildcat has given us a wonderful friendship between Porsche and Big: it begins with reluctance, but by the end of Chapter Two, we see Big, in all his fierce loyalty. Mind you, nuwildcat is writing this all while describing how Big falls out of love with Kinn and begins to fall for Tay. And if being graced with wonderful writing isn't enough, mortimerlace knocks you out with stunning art of both characters. There is something really captivating in mortimer's use of purples and I am loving it. The variants used in the first picture of Tay in Chapter One are exquisite. The details in the flowers are so well thought of. Mortimer's use of detail and line work really shine when it comes to each of the outfits, particularly Tay's lace bodice. However, my favorites have to be from Chapter Two; maybe it's because I'm biased, but something about these portraits of Big just made me blush; he looks that good. All in all, if you want a double whammy of fine art and writing, this is your fic. Favorite line: "...the sincerity in Big’s voice hits him like the recoil of a gun. Tay can’t remember the last compliment he got from Time that didn’t double as a come-on. The ache of that thought is an open wound he can’t help but press on. 'You know, when you say things like that Big, I actually believe them.'" Favorite art piece: Chapter Two's second picture of Big in his suit.

Gonna Fade You Like That Rush by giraffeter

Rating: E Pairing: Tay/Time/Big Status: Completed Summary: "Tay and Time run into Big on his night off. Kinn may not want to play with his own toys, but he's never told them they couldn't help themselves." Why you should read this: Listen. Big has been going through it. I think he deserves to have fun, and giraffeter delivers on that. Was I expecting that fun to come in the form of quick wit, humor, and Tay and Time convincing Big to follow them home? Absolutely not, but holy shit, am I here for it. Because girafetter's right; if Kinn won't have fun with his bodyguards, then maybe Tay and Time should. I love the set up in this fic; Big's at a bar and Tay and Time pounce as soon as they lay eyes on him. I love Big's subtle discomfort while being in a bar and how he's a bit unsure of how to place himself among Time and Tay. since they are Kinn's friends. And to put all of this in a post-Tawan background really amplifies that feeling. I'm obsessed with how flirty and forward Tay is here too, how he demands to be in charge. Not to mention the internal thoughts Tay has throughout the story. All of this is compounded by very hot smut. Big fans are truly blessed and thankful. Favorite line: "He has no idea how long it takes them to drive to Tay and Time's place. He's focused on controlling his breathing, on not shivering apart or coming in his underwear while they touch him in an idle, almost desultory way. Occasionally they exchange a heated look across his body, one that lets Big know that he is completely, totally (and in the best way possible) fucked."

Alright! That's all I've got for you, Big. For now, at least. I hope these lovely authors/creators and the fandom continue to write about you, my favorite bodyguard, the one with the most pure heart. 🖤

[theforestghost]

The Consort and The Warlord Ch13

Summary: Megatron uses the All Spark to gain access to Cybertron and demands a peace treaty. An Autobot Consort is offered and Optimus is chosen. A Bonding Ceremony takes place and now Optimus has three vorn to figure out exactly what Megatron wants to do with Cybertron.

Pairing: Optimus Prime x Megatron

Continuity: Animated

Status: Ongoing

The next morning, Optimus woke up to a processor ache and remembered every detail of the night before. He covered his faceplate with his servos, heat building in him as he recalled not only everything Megatron had spoken to him, but also the fact that he had tried to kiss Megatron in the process. Peeking through his digits, Optimus glanced down at Megatron who still recharged beside him, frame moving slightly as a barely audible purr could be heard from his chassis. It was a very pleasant purr and Optimus was certain he could fall back into recharge listening to it.

No! He needed to focus! Focus on the fact that he'd made a fool of himself when drunk and that Megatron confessed. Did he confess? Was that a confession? Offering to bring an entire universe to their knees for him sure sounded like one! And though a rather violent offer, Optimus couldn't help but find it endearing. His finials twitched slightly as his processor replayed the glyphs spoken over and over. And so caught up in his thoughts, Optimus failed to notice how the berth shifted beside him.

It wasn't until he heard a deep chuckle and lowered his servos that Optimus saw that Megatron was awake. Awake and watching him with a lazy grin, lounged on his side with his helm propped up on his servo. The mesh blanket slipped off of his chassis and now sat on his abdomen, teasing his waistline–Optimus looked away quickly, covering his faceplate again with a servo.

"What are you hiding for?" Megatron asked. He reached with his free servo to gently take Optimus' away from his faceplate. Optimus looked at him from the corner of his optics and let his servo be brought to his lap where Megatron lazily rested his arm. "I don't usually have the pleasure of waking up to you still in the berth."

"I just… woke up." Optimus said, checking his chronometer and realizing that hadeen had long since risen. He'd recharged far longer than usual.

"You did indulge quite a bit last night." Megatron rumbled. He let his digits gently trace Optimus' side and smiled wider when his consort shivered under the touch. "Speaking of which, do you remember our conversation?"

Optimus flinched and looked at Megatron with wide optics before looking away in shame. "I'm sorry." He said rather quickly. "I should have had more restraint."

Megatron continued to stroke his side, soothing his tense wires with practiced ease. "It is good to relax and you did come and find me when you were quite inebriated." Megatron said, seeming more amused than anything. "But since you do remember, I will say this that every glyph I spoke was the truth."

Megatron reached up and gently tilted Optimus' helm towards him. Their optics met and a warm field surrounded Optimus with comfort. He relaxed again and let himself lean closer to Megatron, bracing himself on his servos as he did.

"What does that make us then?" Optimus asked. He hoped he knew, but deep down, a part of his processor still believed that this could be a sick joke. That Megatron was messing with him, using him and ready to throw him away when need be. Because that's what mechs did with Optimus, they used him until he proved how useless he was and they dumped him like the trash he sometimes felt he was. He clenched his servos, not realizing just how much his emotions were spilling out through his field.

"Don't give me such a sad look." Megatron said. He sat up now and took Optimus' helm with both servos. "I had intended for this to mean that I can properly court you." 

Optimus looked up at Megatron a bit surprised. "Aren't we already Bonded though?" He asked in a small voice.

"Yes, but that's only officially. You deserve to be courted properly and thoroughly." Megatron said. He leaned their helms closer, one digit tracing Optimus' derma. This time for sure he would– 

*beep*

*beep*

Optimus flinched as a notice saying he had a direct call from Ultra Magnus came through. Megatron seemed to have recognized the sound because he let Optimus go with a disgruntled expression. Optimus didn't really want to answer this call either but it had been nearly a half a vorn since he'd been to Iacon and he knew it was best if he answered. 

Though Ultra Magnus requesting a call through his personal comms instead of a video feed was also rather abnormal. Optimus let his vents settle before he finally accepted the call. The static of the connection was short before Optimus could hear the background noise of the other side funnel through. 

"Ultra Magnus." Ootimus greeted politely, his servo gripping the mesh covering. Megatron stopped from where he was getting off the berth and moved back beside Optimus instead.

"It had been some time, Optimus Prime." Ultra Magnus spoke in a steady voice. There was something though that sounded off but Optimus couldn't quite figure it out.

"Did you need anything? This isn't time for the reports." Optimus asked. His entire frame was tense, memories of their last meeting began to run through his processor. He felt panic begin to build in the back of his intake when he was suddenly engulfed in a large and warm frame and field. Looking up, he saw that Megatron had moved to hold him from behind. 

"The state of Cybertron has begun to shift, I am afraid that public opinion of the Decepticons being here has become worse." Ultra Magnus began. "I believe it would be best if we end this mission of yours and have you return to Iacon."

Optimus couldn't believe what he was being told. It sounded like an excuse, a barely there fabricated excuse that he couldn't believe that Ultra Magnus truly thought he would listen. No, Optimus Prime would have listened. He wouldn't have questioned it at all. But Optimus wouldn't believe him, he knew better.

"You say that so easily, like I could just pick up and leave." Optimus tried to keep his voice steady but he knew he couldn't. Even with Megatron there he was shaking. 

"You were once my finest prime, how difficult could it be to escape?" Ultra Magnus replied. "I need you back in Iacon."

"No, I need to be here in Kaon where I can actually be useful!" Optimus said. "I am not returning to Iacon so you can show me off as a fabricated martyr!" 

"Optimus Prime, are you disobeying a direct order?" Ultra Magnus answered. Even through the comm, Optimus could hear every bit of irritation that he was causing. But he didn't let himself be intimidated, not now. 

"I am no longer one of your primes, I am Megatron’s consort and as his consort I am working to make Cybertron a place where all bots are safe!" Optimus said. "If you have nothing else to say, I will be ending the call."

It sounded like Ultra Magnus had a lot left to say but Optimus didn't want to hear it. He hung up first. And after a few kliks of silence, he sighed and leaned back against Megatron who was watching him. 

"Did I say something wrong?" Optimus asked, unable to determine what was going on through the warlord's helm.

"No my dear, I am simply impressed at how boldly you stood up against Ultra Magnus." Megatron spoke fondly as he held Optimus closer. "I wish to show you my appreciation right now, but I must resist. We have much planned today and we are already late."

Megatron almost seemed upset at having to go to work. He gave Optimus one last hug before releasing the mech completely. "Go and get us some energon, I will be along in a few kliks." 

Optimus looked back at Megatron and nodded. He got off the berth and left their room. Hadeen shone brightly in the room, casting deep shadows across it. Optimus stretched as he prepared their morning fuel. Part of him still felt uneasy by what Ultra Magnus spoke about. There was also something else in their conversation that continued to bug him. He let out a deep ex-vent as he grabbed the fuel and turned around to Prowl standing in front of him.

"Prowl!?" Optimus flinched back, nearly spilling the energon. "I thought I told you not to do that!" 

"Sorry." Prowl smirked, almost amused at having caught Optimus off guard. 

"Optimus are you alright?" Megatron came out of the berthroom quickly, clearly having heard him shout. He saw Prowl and immediately pulled out his sword to attack. What he didn't expect was for Optimus to block the attack with his axe, their Energon left on the counter.

"Wait a klik, Megatron!" Optimus said frantically. "Prowl is with me!"

Megatron ceased his attack and looked down at Optimus and then to the one named Prowl who still held a fighting stance. He relaxed slightly but scolded. "Your spy then." Megatron stated. 

"Yes, my spy." Optimus took a couple of steps back and tried to get Prowl to lower his guard a bit. "He surprised me, that was all."

"Then what had he come here for?" Megatron crossed his arms over his chassis and glared down at the ninjabot. Prowl looked at Optimus who nodded for him to speak.

"The Council found the key." Prowl said, looking at Optimus. 

Optimus froze before letting out a loud groan and covering his faceplate with his servo. He leaned against the back of the chair. "That's why Ultra Magnus wanted me back in Iacon…" he said.

"Ultra Magnus contacted you?" Prowl asked. 

"Just a few kliks ago, told me I needed to sneak out like my bonding and everything meant nothing. Now I know why." Optimus said. 

"Care to explain exactly what this key is to me?" Megatron asked.

"I think it would be best to call a meeting so I can explain to everybot at the same time." Optimus said. 

Megatron nodded. "I will notify them of the meeting." He walked back into the berthroom as he spoke.

Optimus turned back to Prowl. "How are things outside of Kaon?" He asked.

"A lot of the civilians are waiting to see what happens and are hoping for the best. Many who went to the tours have shared their experiences positively." Prowl explained. "Though the Council doesn't like this."

"I don't think they would." Optimus said. "Would you mind coming to this meeting too?"

"Finally letting me in on this secret?" Prowl asked.

"Unfortunately I have to share it now." Optimus sighed. 

"Can I come too?"

Optimus flinched as another bot popped up beside Prowl. He was slim with white plating, a blue visor and a laid back smile. An elite guard autobot mark decorated his chassis.

"Oops, sorry, didn't mean to surprise you!" The bot said. "Names Jazz!"

Optimus looked at Prowl for an explanation. The ninjabot shrugged and gestured to his companion. "He was a student of my teacher before me. I got his help when acquiring the information you needed." Prowl said. "He begged me to come along when he found out I was coming here."

"You make it sound like I'm a sparkling." Jazz laughed. "Ultra Magnus won't let anybot near Kaon and I just had to check this place out for myself."

"Optimus I have scheduled a meeting, we must leave- why is there another one?" Megatron leered at Jazz who seemed much less hostile compared to the other bot but he didn't remember Optimus mentioning having more than one spy. 

"This is Jazz. He tagged along." Optimus explained swiftly. "We should get going, these two are coming with us."

"I do not like the fact that two Autobots got into our habsuite." Megatron said, opening the door and leading Optimus to the elevator. Optimus couldn't blame him but ninjabots trained by Yoketron were top tier, even amongst Autobots and there was nothing he could do about it.

By the time they made it to the meeting hall, most of the generals were there, including Strika and Shockwave. Both stared down the two Autobots who followed in Megatron and Optimus with ease but simply gave their leader a look that stated they wanted an explanation. Megatron waved them off and watched the two ninjabots settle on each side of Optimus' chair as the last of his generals, Starscream, came in.

"What is the meaning behind this sudden meeting and why are those two Autobots here?" Starscream asked. "One has the markings of the Elite guard!"

"Quiet Starscream, Optimus will explain why he called us here." Megatron stated. He gestured to Optimus who nodded and stood up.

Just a few vorn ago, Optimus would never have been able to speak confidently in front of these mechs and femmes, but after all this time, he found it easier than talking to Ultra Magnus. "I got information about a movement the Council has made that could threaten all warframes on Cybertron and even a lot of civilians." This got their attention and Optimus hoped he could explain this properly. "When I was first called back to Cybertron, no bot told me anything aside from that i was to be bonded to Megatron. So I asked Prowl to stay behind in Iacon and figure out what the Council and Ultra Magnus were planning to do. He informed me that they were planning to awaken Fortress Maximus."

"That's impossible!" Starscream shouted as the other generals began to speak up.

"Fortress Maximus hasn't been used since the war against the Quintessans." Strika added. "Does it even still function?"

"Even if it doesn't, the Council is breaking several laws written by them and the Temple of Primus just by using it as a threat." Shockwave spoke. "Even they could not escape punishment for actively trying to awaken it."

"Aren't there fail safes in place just to prevent this?" Starscream asked. 

"There are several but there is a way to override them." Optimus said. "The Key to Vector Sigma."

"That's lost history." Megatron said. "Just like the Matrix of Leadership. It became lost long before even my time."

"The Council found it." Optimis said. 

"How do you know about Fortress Maximus?" Starscream chided.

"All primes are told this information by Ultra Magnus when they receive their title. It's meant to show that with great power comes great responsibility." Optimus said. "Though I don't know if even the Council is aware that he tells us."

"I do not believe they do." Shockwave added. "The Council has always been very good at concealing Fortress Maximus and treated it like a dirty secret they had to hide. I was taken off guard when Ultra Magnus informed me of it himself."

"Putting aside Ultra Magnus' motives, what exactly is this key and what does it have to do with Fortress Maximus?" Blackarachnia asked.

"The Key to Vector Sigma is a physical artifact like a data clip that can download anything you need and then be inserted into anything or anybot." Shockwave explained.

"Including the override for the fail safes to Fortress Maximus." Megatron said grimly. This wasn't good.

"Um, I hate to interrupt, but what exactly is Fortress Maximus?" Jazz asked, raising his servo. "I don't remember learning about it anywhere."

"You wouldn't have." Strika said. "Fortress Maximus is an ancient and massive living Cybertronian who once fought against the quints. He was too large and decided to fall into stasis so not to harm anybots. Modern day Iacon is made up of him."

"You mean all of Iacon is a single bot?" Prowl asked. "Is that even possible?"

"It is." Megatron stated. "If you believe the ancient texts, Primus himself became Cybertron after his battle with Unicron. If our creator is the size of a planet than titans the size of cities surely exist as well. But awakening such a being could put far more than us warframes in danger."

"If we take the key through, wouldn't that solve everything?" Optimus asked. The entire room turned to stare at him and Optimus shrunk back just slightly. "I mean they can't awaken Fortress Maximus without it and the Council can't openly say anything about us taking it because their ulterior motives are breaking laws set by the Temple."

"That would solve everything." Strika noted. "We can't do anything against a titan, but if we can get the key, nothing will happen."

"What about the actual fail safes?" Blackarachnia asked.

"Not even the entire council could be on board with this plan. Surely some are left in the dark and without them, Fortress Maximus remains in stasis." Starscream replied. "I believe a stealth mission would be best."

"Agreed, a small team should be sent to retrieve the key." Megatron stated. 

"Prowl, do you know where the key is being held?" Optimus asked, turning to the ninjabot. 

Prowl stepped forward and placed a datapad down. Inside was a map of an underground facility thay Optimus didn't recognize. "It's an active factory with underground passages you can't find on any map. I made this when we first found the keys location." Jazz added. "Seems like some of the security guards here are actually working for the Council and move around without anybot knowing the difference. Can't tell you everything that's down there, but last time we checked, the key was being stored here."

"Warframes won't be able to fit in those halls." Strika noted.

"I will go." Optimus said.

"Optimus!" Megatron protested.

"No, I'm not going to sit here where it's safe knowing that a city sized bot could be awakened at any time!" Optimus said. "I know I haven't been active lately but it's not like you have a lot of civilian sized bots who can do this!"

Megatron met Optimus' optics and found a stubbornness he wasn't expecting. After a couple of kliks, the Warlord sighed in defeat. "Fine, we will set up a team with Optimus as the main lead. Strika, choose anybot else you think would fit well and have them briefed by this evening. I want this mission ready to go in two cycles." 

The generals began to file out, Lugnut leading away Prowl and Jazz to hopefully a place that the two could rest and refuel. Optimus stayed behind with Megatron who was watching him closely as he studied the map. Megatron pulled Optimus onto his lap, holding him close.

"You do not need to do this." Megatron said. "We have plenty of bots who can find the key."

"But if we get caught, I can make up an excuse easier than they can." Optimus said. "I was originally an autobot, and Ultra Magnus did want me to return to Iacon so I can use that."

"If things go well, you will not be caught." Megatron stated. "Though I dislike the thought of you being outside my reach. The last time I allowed it, you came back injured."

"So what if I promise to come back unharmed." Optimus turned to look up at Megatron who contemplated his words before kissing the top of his helm. 

"I think I can agree to that."

[alfredsolos]

So most of you don't know this but for a long time, the main continuity had 2 Supermans. I will do my best to explain it as accurate as possible, but if you come across a mistake or incorrect info please let me know. This whole ordeal is very confusing.

So the story takes place in the New 52, where things are darker compared to the previous retcons and people trust the heroes less (With Wonder Woman killing Max Lord and because the writers wanted to make things more realistic). In this time period, Superman is dating Wonder Woman and he doesn't have a son.

The story begins with the news of Superman dying. He is dying of Kryptonite poisoning and him getting weaker and weaker due to his recent fights:

So, Clark goes out to give this news to his friends and family. He visits Lana Lang, Kara, Bruce and Lois. Along the way, Diana finds out of course and we see emotional panels between these characters.

But there is another problem. A new threat that identifies himself as Superman:

This guy proves to be very troublesome. He dresses up as Clark and goes to work at Daily Planet even though everyone clearly sees that this guy is not Clark Kent.

This pisses him off and he goes around to fuck things up, while Superman tries to stop him even though he is getting weaker by time and is slowly dying.

One night, the Fake Superman visits Lois and tells her a secret. About another Superman that has been living in their Earth for a long while without anyone knowing:

He takes Lois to their location and obviously Lois is shocked:

This version of Clark Kent has taken the name Clark White, along with his family. We also meet Jon Kent (Or Jonathan Samuel White).

Obviously, a fight breaks out between them. Because this Clark feels theatened due to the fact that his son is with them and is in danger.

But before that I want to talk about the reason why another Superman is living on this Earth.

So there was an event called Convergence. Personally, It's a bad run that is all over the place. But basically, heroes from different Earths come together to stop a threat.

As expected, they beat the villain and Brainiac offers the heroes a prize. Everyone can go to any Earth they want and continue their life. Some go to their original Earth, some don't:

Clark, Lois and baby Jon go back to the first crisis (Which is the New 52) to prevent the collapse of the Multiverse and try to prevent bad things from happening.

I will call this Clark Pre New 52 Superman, and the one who dates Wonder Woman New 52 Superman.

Anyways, since there couldn't be 2 Supermans at the same time, Pre New 52 Superman takes care of things behind the scene.

So whenever New 52 Superman goes to space and stuff, he looks after Earth.

So, coming back to our main story, New 52 Superman and Pre New 52 Superman meet and team up to beat the Fake Superman.

New 52 Superman knows he is about to die, so he punches Pre New 52 Superman back to Earth and basically sacrifices himself to save the Earth.

After he beats the Fake Superman, he starts falling down to Earth, but before he can crash Pre New 52 Superman saves him.

This doesn't change anything, as he dies later on from kryptonite poisoning:

After this whole ordeal, things happen and the New 52 Lois Lane dies too. So what happens next is that, the Pre New 52 Superfamily take the place of the New 52 versions of themselves.

But this was again retconned in Son Of Kal El, and it was made it out to be that Clark and Lois were together all along and she gives birth to Jon in the Fortress of Solitude.

So the three of them being from Pre New 52 was erased and they were written as being the original Superfamily.

I know this is very confusing (because it is to me, too) but I think it's a very interesting and fun concept to play with.

(Again feel free to correct any mistake or add some details of your own to this post.)

[inlovewithpandora]

- ATSV Rules & Guidelines -

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Last Updated || 7/30/23

- Who I’ll write for! -

✦ Hobie Brown (sfw + nsfw)

✦ Earth!42 Miles Morales (sfw + suggestive)

✦ Earth!1610 Miles Morales (sfw + suggestive)

✦ Both Miles will always be aged!up in my fics! If you’re anti-aging up dni

- What I’ll write! -

✦ Pregnancy, marriage, modern au’s (college!au, celebrity au, etc.) friends to lovers, soulmates/fated trope, enemies to lovers, enemies to friends to lovers, second chance, childhood friends to lovers, monogamous, secret/forbidden relationships, cheating, etc.

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✦ If you don't see a trope, type of reader, kink etc. you like you can ask if I can write it, just make sure to follow rule 6 down below.

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✦ the act of rape, heavy trauma, heavy violence, the act of sexual assault, etc. (some things I will only mention if you pertains to fic)

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✦ For example if you want enemies to lovers trope, you need to tell me why they hate each other, OR if their relationship is secret/forbidden I need to know the reason why it’s secret/forbidden

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[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Hi Laura, dear! I hope you are well. I saw your post that your requests are open (if you've closed them again, I apologise. Please disregard). If you are still taking requests, would you consider writing about the spatial brothers again, please? Something soft and domestic would be lovely, if you don't mind. I'm not sure how much direction you want or if this would be your cup of tea, but I had the thought of maybe, in the future, they're going to shop for baby things together because one of them is going to be a father and the other will be an uncle 🥰 (You can pick which one is which, and you don't have to fill in/mention ships or anything unless you want to. Honestly, whatever suits your mood). If that prompt isn't for you (or is too detailed), please feel free to write whatever you want. Anything fluff for Finral and Langris will be just fine with me! 💚💙 Thank you so much!! Cheers!!

Hello Acacia love~!

Now, I've been having baby fever myself as of late, and this was such a sweet request <3 And I got a bit carried away ^^' But I do hope that you like it. I had a lot of fun imagining how these two would be while shopping for Finral's baby.

Summary: Finral is going to be a father, and wants to start putting together a nursery as a surprise to his wife. He asks Langris to help choose furniture and other things into the nursery, since he'll be an uncle to the baby. And Langris agrees to be emotional support to his brother.

Characters: Finral Roulacase & Langris Vaude A/N: There is a mention of Finral having a wife Fanfic type: Oneshot Length: ~1.1k Warnings: theme of becoming a father, implied pregnancy and a mention of giving birth

Finral looked around the store, rubbing the back of his neck.

He had wanted to surprise his wife by starting to put together the nursery for their baby, even if it was still months before the actual delivery, but now, as he stood in the middle of a store that sold cribs and strollers, plushies and blankets, it suddenly felt daunting to him. Just a bit overwhelming.

Actually… more than just a bit.

His eyes turned back to Langris, who he had asked to help him out, and who had, although somewhat reluctantly, agreed to come along.

Sure, Finral could have asked any of the Bulls, but he didn’t exactly… think that one of them running around the store would make the job any easier. He was there to pick things out for the baby, and not look after his peers. Plus, Langris was going to be an uncle, and Finral didn’t want Langris to be alienated from his family. Because Langris was a part of the family.

And Langris… he didn’t exactly look like he was in his element either, but he had promised to come along. Because this was a good way for them to continue on the work that they had been doing for the past years, to be closer again. And, though Langris would never admit it out loud, he did love his brother. He was happy of Finral’s happiness beneath that stoic expression of his.

But it didn’t’ mean that he had any better idea of where exactly to start.

“So…”

“So.” Langris replied, without really knowing what else to say.

“What should… what would be a good way to start?”

“You’re the one getting a baby nii-san,” Langris pointed out with a frown.

“Yeah…” Finral chuckled to himself; scratching his cheek. “Uhh… well I guess a crib would be…” he trailed off, scanning the room.

“The baby does need a place to sleep,” Langris agreed.

“Or would they sleep with us at first?” Finral thought, looking at Langris.

“And roll on them in your sleep?” He quirked an eyebrow.

“Ah… yeah, I-, we need a crib,” Finral chuckled again while making his way to the nearest crib that was presented in the store.

It was of light wood. Very light. But the fact that it wasn’t merely painted white, gave it a more natural, softer finish. However, it was rectangular, perhaps even boxy by shape. Too rigid to his taste. So, his eyes lifted to the next crib a short distance away, which was of a darker finish.

“Cherry.”

“Mhm,” Finral looked at Langris.

“Cherry wood.”

Finral frowned as a reply, as he was in disbelief that Langris was able to tell what wood it was purely by looking at it.

“I was choosing a desk last week,” he explained while seeing Finral’s frown.

“Ah,” he uttered with a nod before making his way to the other crib.

It was oval in shape. Less corners. Less sharp edges. And it suited Finral better. He didn’t want the baby, once they’d start crawling and walking, bumping into the crib and hurting themselves. But he wondered if it was too dark. Because a nursery should be light coloured, right?

“Well?” Langris asked, as if expecting Finral to make a decision.

“I uh…” he scanned around the room, but none of the other options seemed as agreeable to him. So, it was between the two. “I… is it.. too dark? For the nursery?”

Langris stood there, simply looking at Finral with that raised brow. “Are you expecting me to know what you want for your nursery?”

“Well uhh… no…” he trailed off; rubbing the back of his neck again and thinking about how it wasn’t supposed to be this difficult. It was just one decision among the many that would still be to come.

Langris watched as Finral pondered, and sighed to himself. Though he couldn’t relate to what Finral was going through, he understood that it must’ve been a lot.

It must’ve really been a lot to process.

Langris’ eyes wandered around the shop, and stumbled onto a bunny plushie that reminded him a lot of a plushie he used to have as a toddler. Perhaps it’d be liked by Finral’s child too. His eyes turned back to Finral, who was still looking at the two cribs, trying to make a decision.

There was yet another sigh, as Langris picked up the plushie and placed it into the lighter crib.

“Well?” He asked and looked at Finral, while Finral just looked at it.

It wasn’t a bad fit. But he… wasn’t sure.

Langris watched as Finral’s eyes flickered to the bunny, and the sides of the crib. But there was no resolution. So, he picked up the bunny and walked over to the second crib, and placed it there.

“Well?” He asked again, as the bunny sat in the crib, leaning against the sides made of cheery wood. Like a rabbit, comfortably under a cheery tree, and it’s swaying branches.

Finral’s eyes softened, and the corners of his mouth tugged up into a smile. “Yeah… that one…” he uttered with a faint tone.

There was something in the moment, as Langris watched Finral look at the empty crib, or rather the crib with the bunny plushy, with such tender affection. It was something he couldn’t quite explain, but Langris knew it was a glimpse of just how much he already loved his child.

He was sure, that Finral would be a wonderful father. Devoted, loving and caring. But underneath there was another feeling that … if he hadn’t known any better, he would perhaps have called it envy; a wish to have an alike happiness.

Perhaps. But Langris wasn’t in that point of his life. In fact, he wasn’t, still, sure if that was something he wanted for himself; a future like that.

But he did want a happiness that was as deep as what he could see in Finral’s eyes at that moment.

Not that he would admit it. Either.

So, instead he sighed without a sound; taking a brief pause. “Then onto the next decision,” he said, looking at the various piles of linens on the table next to them, while knowing that it’d be a long day.

After all, it had taken them for about twenty minutes to choose one thing, and he had a feeling that as things started piling up, it certainly wouldn’t be getting any easier.

But it’d be a journey too, among many. For now, Langris was just happy to be there to support his brother on his journey into becoming a father.

Yet another thing he wouldn’t admit out loud.

[cassynite]

6, 9, 16, 19 for Sparrow! <3

Thank you for the questions 🥺❤️ I love granular kinds of questionnaires like these, they always make me pause and think a lil bit about my characters a little more.

OC Character Development Questions

6. Does your character have recurring themes in their dreams?

Yea absolutely! Themes of her childhood before she was kidnapped appear constantly in her dreams--bright, sunny days, bright colors, large blooming flowers, the cliffs splashing into the sea with the wind blowing with enough force that it feels like she could jump off and it would be able to carry her. Climbing trees, great big reaching branches propelling her into the sky until she's on top of the world. Her brother, or pieces of him--his smile, his laugh, the way he talked so fast when he was excited she couldn't understand him, the way his hands always skillfully worked on the tiniest details of whatever he was creating--also show up frequently in her dreams. Freedom, flight, warmth, and family, that's what her mind draws for her in sleep.

9. Is your character’s current socioeconomic status different than it was when they were growing up?

Yes, Sparrow's status has changed a lot throughout her childhood! As a child, she was the younger sister of a very respected but very young engineer in a country where material needs were met as a matter of course. Crow's work and prestige meant that he and Sparrow were able to live quite well despite their young ages, though it was relatively humble. Away from the direct city, in a little house on a high cliff where others weren't as bothered by experiments on protoypes, Sparrow always had what she needed but wasn't living lavishly or anything. When she becomes a slave for House Arvanxi she ends up in a very awkward place in the household. She is property in Cheliax, the lowest of the low, but being a body double means that she also has to be seen and treated as Evaethi when needed. Because of this she's given fine clothes, a noble's education, and is separate from the servants and slaves--but if she makes a mistake, angers Gregoriath, or is otherwise defiant or doesn't live up to expectations, the punishments are as harsh as they would be for anyone else with a collar. Sparrow has gone without food, been beaten and whipped, and threatened all the while--because what she has here is still good, isn't it? Better than anything anyone else would give her as a slave. If she continues to fail to live up to the expectations of her position, Gregoriath can always sell her again. Pretending to be Evaethi puts her in a similar position--a noble, but not really, and terribly conscious of the fact--and Sparrow at the beginning of the game is prepared to strike out in the world with little more than the clothes on her back. Of course, when she finally closes the Worldwound and marries Daeran, she becomes a noble in truth--one who will never have to worry about any kind of material need again, and who can travel the world whenever she pleases. She's recognizable, a respected leader of the community, and far above any kind of status she'd have even dreamed of as a child.

16. Which does your character idealize most: happiness or success?

Happiness, full stop. Success in Sparrow's eyes is to be happy, to have found peace in herself and her surroundings and finally become allowed to live in a way that lets her be free. Material wealth, prestige, accolades--they're all pointless to her, secondary to gaining the emotional fulfillment that she craves.

19. What is your character’s biggest relationship flaw? Has this flaw destroyed relationships for them before?

Sparrow's biggest relationship flaw is her insecurity in its strength. She is always waiting for the other person to leave--for them to realize that she's not worth sticking around for, that her idiosyncrasies and her nerves are too much to handle and for them give up. It leads to her catastrophizing arguments, planning for the worst possible reactions and outcomes, and hiding concerns, criticisms, and complaints from her partner for fear that expressing them might make her too much trouble. It makes arguments--even over small things--monumental tasks to get through, and it's hurtful to the other person, because what does it say about Sparrow's view of them that she thinks they'll abandon her at the drop of a hat? This hasn't destroyed previous relationships because Sparrow never had previous relationships to destroy--every connection she made prior to the Crusades did leave. It does, however, create a few rocky points in Sparrow and Daeran's relationship after the Crusades end and they marry. They do eventually work through them, and Sparrow does learn to talk herself down from her first instinct to jump to the worst conclusion.

[madchild-dennis]

Now that we know he's going to DIE (by God or by me) Let's talk about it.

Let's be CLEAR, I do NOT need to explain myself. BUT I think it's necessary to share as I KNOW God will deal with it and I'll get a REPLACEMENT.

There's ALWAYS a method to my madness. So let's discuss it all and then LET IT GO.

SO let's begin with declaring ASSERTIVELY that, If God, G-O-D forces me to be with him, I WILL KILL HIM. Violently and unapologetically.

WHY?

Because I made clear what NOT to do with the consequence of death if he fucks up or disobey these boundaries.

WHY DEATH? WHY SO HARSH?

Because GOD, G-O-D guaranteed him to be "THE PERFECT" guy. As in EVERYTHING I would want and does NOT have what I don't want (I will make a post on that as promised soon). So because God guaranteed a MAN who has FREE WILL, will be the BEST husband. A HUMAN who has FREE WILL. A MAN who can freely disobey GOD. A human who can FREELY do as he wants whenever. If God going to have me set SO MANY BOUNDARIES and walk me into SO MUCH SACRI-FUCKING-FICE and problems for that fucker. God must know something I DON'T.

Because I had to SACRIFICE and more for this so called supposed person who is supposed to be everything I ever dreamed. HOWEVER, ALL HE HAS DONE towards me is be a FUCKING ASSHOLE.

So it's either something wrong in translation, or he chose to take a different path than God's. I am NOT taking SHIT I did NOT want and could see from the FUCKING START to suffer. God did NOT show me a troubled marriage. He did NOT show me an asshole. In fact, the way God painted him, did not show all this fuckery. So, it must be the guy's fault and choice to be a fucking ASSHOLE. If God is guaranteeing him, it must be at the risk of death.

PLUS God keeps insisting it's the guy and his mother who truly want it all. As in those shits want the marriage/relationship. Something I have been letting go and walked away from 2019.

Let's be CLEAR: If I have to kill him because God force me to be with him. I will do so publicly. I will make it known publicly. As I said, right after doing so, I will call his mother to come pick him/his body up. Accepting whatever she wants to do about it. If police comes, I will admit to them in DETAILS what I did. Which is most likely cut his dick off and watch him bleed then stab him up. Then whatever happens I accept it. However, please MARK THESE WORDS, I will NOT go to prison for it. Why? God. God has revealed that the worst I'll experience is ALREADY DONE (locked up in a psych ward, hospital & a nursing home). So NO PRISON if I kill that bitch.

Anyway the story.

OK let's go into depth about it

So I met him in 2019. As shared here:

The truth is I didn't know and I didn't realize I was falling until it was too late. As I wrote in poetry here:

(These are just a FEW, trust me I have FAR too many more; UNFORTUNATELY. I write when emotionally overwhelmed.)

In 2019, he did a lot of physical things that played with my emotions and I wrote about it:

In fact, I knew he was a bad decision in the first place:

Then I gave him 10 questions to try and make sure I made a sound and good decision to date him. So that to not make this decision centered around just feelings. It had to make sense, well to me. As I shared in this:

I don't date based on feelings only, because feelings won't matter or won't fix things when you are in the hard times of marriage. Plus I date for the goal of marriage. So, if I can't see that goal, I walk away. Hence the necessity of the 10 questions or the fact that the union would make sense. I wanted it to make sense first.

As you know he failed at even doing just that BASIC THING.

So I was going to move on. BUT MY feelings. In fact I tried to give him a chance again in December of that year:

BUT NO:

[taestefully-in-luv]

i’m gonna start this w an apology in advance if this is weird to you, i truly don’t mean to gross you out or offend you so i apologize if i do at all. you can dm me and curse me out and i’ll accept it as i should. however, i must inform you that i have never had such an urgency to need to grab someone’s face and give them the biggest most passionate emotion filled make out they have ever received. ever. respectfully. because of something i’ve read from them. i mean maybe might have?, but it never registered as the definite course of action till now, with you.

i’m not gonna say too much cause ik once i start i’ll never stop but i just read the latest chapter of our time and holy shit. you know how some people say they wish they can identify when they’re having a core memory that’s super important or iconic to them? that is literally happening to me AS i am reading this series. like i just know i’m gonna look back and think ‘omg remember when user @taestefully-in-luv made that one life altering series that had me hooked by every word? yea was AN ERA’ I JUST KNOW ITLL BE LIKE THAT. LIKE I CAN ALREADY TELL.

honestly though, i’m reading this going through all the five or whatever number stages of grief, and also my stomach has apparently started to attend gymnastics classes. i swear when mc gets flashes of memories suddenly my vision is cloudy and my eyebrows are worrying themselves. also the last twist??! like i knew for sure that mc and jk probably hooked up or maybe even dated but i had a strong intuition that they had some sort of fight/split or a falling out seeing that she has her own house and jk has his, and the fact that he was surprised she knew abt a nickname that she was expecting would stick or even when he didn’t think she’d still have that one shirt. NEVERTHELESS, in no way AT ALL was i expecting that.. like i just don’t get it. it’s the fact that you’re writing PURE GOLD and putting it on this app for free. like for free?! are u kidding?

yea anyways that’s all for now i don’t wanna write too much, but seriously what you’re doing is amazing and the mere ground/flooring/whatever you may walk on needs to be praised. oh and please remember to not overwork or overwhelm or over stress yourself while you continue writing this series. please do take breaks whenever you feel like you need them because that’s extremely important and way more important than any of us people on the internet just wanting to read what you put out. ik writing can be extremely draining especially a series so detail based like this, so please take it easy. YOU ALWAYS COME FIRST.

i said i wasn’t gonna write a lot, and i still managed to do just that.. anyways bye and you’ll def hear from me again when the happenings of this series shake me to my core again and i have to come rushing to this poor ask box to scream abt how i’m feeling.

[neonseperatedau]

Hello!

I am new here and haven't made it all the way through your fic (chipping away though) and I was curious if there is any Canon designs of the Separated characters? I would love to try my hand at some fanart but I wouldn't want to get a detail wrong. Thank you for your time! ❤

Hello dear Anon! This is the first ask I get and it almost causes an heart-attack?? /aff /pos I am very happy you are making your way through my fic and are interested in the AU! I am myself unable to even draw stick figures so I cannot provide any designs and I honestly like the idea to give you free reigns in imagining the details of the concepts in whichever way you like. I would love to see how YOU see the characters while you read the fic :D The only few design details that are story-relevant are Leon’s blue shawl at the beginning, his frontal plastron is chipped in the right lower corner (where Mikey places the plaster) and the fact that he wears long black gloves in which he hides some small blades wafwsfewf Everything else develops as he develops throughout the fic. Whether you imagine the rest of his get-up like his canon series version or something different is really up to you! It makes me feel really honored and emotional that you are willing to draw something for this AU!! It makes me all the more motivated and pumped up to give it my best as I continue writing this fic ;_; and thank you so much for your message and ask! ❤ ❤ ❤

[cheeseandcake-from-ao3]

Mega Man A Live? Love to hear it, since jel got Mario and I did Disney.

Okay, so- There are so many scenarios, but I'll just ramble so-

First idea- As an Additional LaL chapter- This is going to sound absolutely stupid, but hear me out here:

In Megaman ZX, there's a thing called "Model W." It was once a human/cyborg, but hated so much that it's will continued over 100 years later. Therefore, it has the ability to corrupt and control anyone who feels too much hatred near its remaining fragments. At this point in the story, humanity is still trying to recover from the messes it made, so... hatred isn't really hard to find. The protagonist (either Vent or Aile) almost fall to them because they have Issues regarding the death of their family.

Each of the "Chosen Ones" have a different Model that enhances their powers, and choses a wielder based on... something. I have my headcanons but I won't say anything that can be taken As Fact. Anyway- One of them, an old, forgotten one, that's optional- is called Model Omega. (Or just Model O).

So. My absolutely dumb idea is that Model O ends up with the Not Protagonist (Vent if Aile is secected, and Aile if Vent is selected) and is a usurped Odio incarnation. Model W basically took their place- sure, Model O wants to bring about untold destruction, but it's Model W that has the Hatred.

The Protagonist is still the Protagonist, but in the background with be their twin occasionally helping or fighting them, and would probably not be able to help in the final fight due to it being too much of a risk to fight Model W with the amount of hatred they have. So- Protagonist fights Villain, they end up in the final chapter, and discover what was originally meant to happen to their twin. Free Emotions.

2. Second idea- If we're doing the Live A Live but all Megaman:

Okay, the last point I spent too long on, so I'll try to keep this brief-

The protagonists would be: Blues (The first android- trying to escape his creators to keep his free will), Rock and/or Roll (Modern Day- Helper Robots willing to battle), Quint (Close Future- A wondering robot trying to find it's purpose in a time that seems out of place), X (Unknown Future- A pacifist forced to fight- the fallen hero), (MM)Zero (Distant Future- An amnesiac trying to rebuild and protect those left, modelled after an old hero), Model ZX (Far Future- A support Model trying to find it's next wielder), Volnutt (Furthest point- A Carbon searching who lives a simple life, trying to collect minerals long past humanity's extinction), Lan Hikari (Parallel word- A human trying to train with his companion to became The Strongest(TM), and Geo Stelar (Digital World- A youth granted the ability to see aliens who needs to fight them off).

...I swear I'm not making these up. But I am bending the plot to suit the LaL format-

Anyway- I was thinking of, in this scenario, Sigma would be the Fallen Hero, but then I realised that X was the ideal choice. Originally, he was going to become the villain of the Zero series, but I won't go into Details. In this scenario, (MM)Zero doesn't meet X until the the Final Chapter, with his current one being focused on rebuilding from the previous war.

So in this scenario, X's lost memories in the Bad End remain lost, and all he remembers is the worst side of reploids. Because of this, he decides to maintain peace for humanity at any cost, all while he's believing he's the hero.

...I'm only just realising how much context this is missing. I'm so, so sorry.

3. Third idea- I will sum this up in one paragraph because I should probably stop:

Lumine from MMX8 is one of the Light Side Incarnations. His desire for paradise and belief of superiority would work with it. Including the idea that he and his model are the only ones with "free will" when it looks like they're the ones walking a destined path.

Anyway- Thanks for giving me permission to ramble! If you made it this far- Thanks again! And sorry if it didn't make a lot of sense, but it was fun to type about!

[truckreincarnation]

Put me down to rest, I do not wish to see this anymore | Esmée | Trial 4.2 | Re: Nao, Theophania | ATTN: Nao, Theophania

To Nao’s look, she gives a thankful nod. She’d owe him one later, it seems. To confirm her alibi like that so openly…she appreciates it. That at least puts her somewhat in the clear. A look goes to Amber, pointedly avoiding the King’s gaze as she speaks.

“May I move?” She unwraps the red fabric from her waist, her thorn whip she kept on her at all times falling down with a clunk. “I can wrap Nao’s wounds in this so they at the very least have support for it.” 

Esmée doesn’t listen if the King speaks, only staring at the Great Tree that oversaw their trials from the very beginning. The one that actually showed remorse for their position here. She didn’t want to give in to any of the others’ jabs and pokes, keeping as much of a level-head as is possible in this moment. When given permission, she quickly moves over to where Nao is standing and when going to wrap their wounds blinks. Ah there’s…none? Curious. The health potion may have done quite well. In that case, she leaves her fabric with them.

“Uh…how severe were your wounds-? I’d assumed some would still be open.” A pause, “Oh if you wanna clean up the blood too, feel free to use the cloth. I’ll wash it later. Amber, if you can deliver my thorn whip to the training hall in the meantime, it’d be appreciated. I don’t want to have a weapon in my hand while I’m this emotional.”

Exercise caution. It wasn’t as though she was feasibly going to hurt another Incarnate, no. She didn’t want to risk swinging at the King amidst all this and just making the situation worse. With that, she closes her eyes- all up until Theophania speaks.

“…What?” 

Theophania was the one to check out the slingshot, and attempt to hurt the barrier. Theophania did that? Esmée had originally thought that the slingshot had to play a big part in the murder. That maybe it launched some kind of small explosive into the place and purposefully harmed those she loved but…Theophania’s confusion around the situation was presently clear.

“I…don’t worry. I trust Avery’s judgement so whatever they say, I’ll trust in. If anyone else wishes to take your offer though.” A beat, “..if you need some buffs for healing, too. Just let me know. I can try to call on precognition to heal you some more, too. Just- after some time. 5 minutes.” 

Her nose scrunches up in thought. 

“The slingshot was caught in the explosion, too. By the looks of it. It was pretty scorched. And well. Broken. It still could’ve fired an explosive but I think it more likely that…ugh. Hang on let me gather my thoughts this is going to be out there.” 

“The Barrier is** more of a** shock barrier, right? I’ve never attempted to touch it myself, so I don’t know the exact details but** I doubt that it on its own would’ve caused the explosion.** In fact it may have instead been used as a trigger point. Like…the electricity or lightning from it setting something into motion. A lightning strike can cause a flame- I think? Fuck if I know. I’m no expert.” 

Her eyes trail down. 

“…I just need to go off my knowledge, regardless. I gotta continue to try-” For their sake, “Right we saw some powders had been taken from the Crafting room. As well as that, in the library books were scattered out detailing how to make bombs - basic ones. For such an explosion it was definitely planned. Though whether it was like Theophania’s intention of finding weak points in the barrier, or something more sinister eludes me. Either way Gunpowder residue was on one desk in the crafting room. A bomb had to be made at some point.” 

[Ear Trauma CW]

“Luz and Frank were likely close to it** considering ****the blood in their ears. Being so close to the explosion, the pressure likely damaged their eardrums. Theophania- based on where your flower was, you were a little ways away from them, If I may ask, **do you also have blood in your ears?”

She didn’t want to assume the worst and immediately point a finger for Theophania being in the wrong place at the wrong time, but her attacks on the gate could’ve triggered something far out of her control. It was one theory, at least, but Esmée didn’t know how far it may go.

[xenodroid05]

Shelby Discussion

[Same as the blog this is a reply to - there are very huge spoilers for the game Heavy Rain in this post]

@iovetaste - It was quite fun to read your take on heavy rain, especially considering the fact it’s kind of rare for Scott to be someone’s favourite character (and Jayden to be their least favourite for that matter, haha)

Please know none of this is criticism, everyone’s entitled to their opinion and I agree with most of what you said anyway. This is just a friendly discussion ofc :]

For sake of discussion - I think Scott being very compassionate even towards his victim’s fathers makes him all around seem like a much colder killer when it’s revealed. He’s already punished Hassan by murdering his son, he has no reason to get angry with him. If anything it gives me the impression that during the whole scene he feels glad to have made this man grieve and proved to him that he’s a “bad father” who never truly loved his son.

Psychopathic killers are characterised by their lack of empathy, being cold and calculative, and usually finding it very easy to put on an act (due to not feeling any true empathy for others). It can be explained with his fragmented upbringing, abusive father and the trauma of John’s death that Scott has grown up a psychopath - so yeah he is quite good at putting on this act in order to cover up his own tracks. Also, since he’s working so close to his own case, he wouldn’t want to give any reason for the victim’s families to suspect him of being the killer.

This whole aspect of the game is one of my favourite things because it reveals just how cold and unfeeling Scott is for him to be able to investigate the grieving families and even “fall in love” with Lauren, without feeling any guilt for what he’s done. And all of this helps explain why he can keep it together when talking about John around other people; he might become emotional about it when alone, but never around others. Besides I do think it’s hinted that he feels uncomfortable during the scene at the graveyard, because his thoughts are somewhat aggressively focussed on getting out of the cemetery and continuing pursuit of Gordi Kramer (of course he knows Gordi isn’t the killer)

But anyways, don’t get me wrong - Heavy Rain is indeed full of plot holes, like Ethan’s blackouts not being explained due to cut content, Scott’s asthma appearing once and never again, plus the sheer amount of people he can manage to kill (and bullets he can take for that matter) - but like you I love this game so much nonetheless, and honestly it’s good fun to fill in the gaps ourselves. The headcanons I’ve seen people make for heavy rain are so cool, it allows for people to have their own creative takes on the game (such as explanations for Ethan’s blackouts and how Norman got addicted to tripto, etc). I’m really glad you could enjoy the game despite its unfinished areas - it just needed some more polishing is all, but the foundations of the game and the general plot, and the intricate details they did think to put in the game, still deserves at least some appreciation.

Btw if you are still interested in heavy rain much, feel free to join a discord server I made recently for the remaining heavy rain fans hangin’ around. (and anyone else who sees this lengthy ramble, feel free to join if you would like)

heavy rain

just finished watching a playthrough of heavy rain (yes im 12 years late to the party shush) and uurgghhhHH it upsets me how good the concept is but how POORLY IT WAS EXECUTED?>@?!#?> spoilers under the cut for basically the entire plot

i really dont mind when writers use the "unreliable narrator" thing especially for whodunnit stories because yknow. it keeps you on your toes and the thought of the writer having that much control over how you perceive their story is reaaally cool. and i think in the case of heavy rain its really cool how they only show scott's actions as a private eye when you're playing as him because it genuinely seems like he's yknow... actually a private investigator hired by the victims families. he's funny, witty, caring towards others, and in general i was naturally drawn to him since the story portrays him in such a good light for the majority of the story. i wouldve never suspected he was the killer if not for that one scene where he's extremely reluctant to cross check the names between the typewriter repair customers and origami magazine subscribers.

i just think they missed a few opportunities to create some foreshadowing so his character doesnt feel so... incomplete? when its finally revealed that hes the killer it doesnt really feel natural. like there werent any clues beforehand to make you think, "oh my god that changes everything!! it all makes sense now!!" instead i was left feeling like things werent really adding up, there were so many holes in the story that were ignored for convenience.

the idea of scott's character in general is so good but i feel like they either should've given more hints in his internal dialogue earlier in the game about his true nature (why is a serial killer like him so compassionate towards people, especially that guy from the convenience store who clearly failed scott's trials? i thought the idea of a father being unable to save his son was his motive for killing?) or cleaned up the little details about him in general towards the end.

for example, why was he so unbothered and detached when he and lauren visit john's grave yet later he gets emotional when john's death just briefly crosses his mind? how did he not have any strong reaction to hearing the gravekeeper recall in detail how john died? how did scott keep track of ethan's progress and validity during the trials when he was busy collecting evidence, especially with lauren around? how did scott keep track of ethan's blackouts in order to leave the lil origami guys in his hand? how come scott's athsma never becomes a problem during the more lengthy fight scenes towards the end? how in the hell did he manage to defend himself against like a dozen bodyguards just kinda. briskly walking around the mansion?? with way too much ammo than that tiny little revolver should be able to hold?

i think if heavy rain took a little more time exploring every single possible plot hole in its story i would call it one of my favourite story games. it really bothers me how much potential it had because i think its story deserves to be fully developed. im barely scratching the surface too, there are plenty of plot holes surrounding madison and ethan too (and norman wasnt really that interesting for me to strongly pay attention to so i cant say much about him.) its just that scott was ultimately my favourite character in the game and its so upsetting how incomplete his story feels </3

regardless i loved heavy rain (despite its annoying storytelling) and i wanna try to watch all the endings now, ive only seen two so far!!! its a really great game if you dont think about it too hard :D