#yes they were teens who were desperately trying to protect themselves

[cringefail-clown]

some people man. ive never said in the og post that vantases had to stay bootlickers forever. what i mean is that i very rarely (if at all) see that part of their characterisation explored in fanworks. especially with karkat - he either a) already realized that alternia fucking sucked and freely speaks about it or b) doesnt mention his biases about the regime at all. which, fine, do whatever you want, its a free country, but id love to see the process of realization and healing from the years of authoritarian propaganda that made both of them believe theyre worth less than dirt and the only way to "redeem" themselves and be safe is to conform and become useful tools for the empire to exploit.

ive literally expressed that in tags, which couldve been easy to miss, but cmon man

so yeah. they can change, id love to see that change as it happens tho

[corellianhounds]

Would you ever write… a story about young Din? (Like as a child or teen)

Yes! So I already have a few ideas of flashbacks that get incorporated into stories that happen in the show’s ‘present’ that remind him of circumstances from his youth, but recently I came up with the idea of his first impression of/meeting with Paz Vizsla. The problem is I can’t decide if it would work well on its own or if it would work BETTER incorporated as a series of flashbacks into a story where the themes of both timelines draw parallels to each other

Bolstering his backstory in snippets doesn’t really count as its own story though 😆 What I try to adhere to when it comes to revealing those bits and pieces of Din’s past is the general rule that mysterious characters are more interesting when you DON’T know their entire history and backstory. The less concrete and detailed a character’s past is, the more room there is to play with what they do or know in the present. They can adapt to what serves the story best, and gaps can be filled in along the way as needed without the author needing to or feeling compelled to look out for contradictions or feeling constrained by rigid places in the timeline. Speculation keeps them interesting and the audience can fill in the gaps themselves and intuit how they got to the point they have in the present.

NOW. That being said. I had a fun idea for a de-aged fic with Mando and several other characters being turned back into their childhood selves (like roughly 10-12 years old) but with all of their memories intact, and the one-shot adventure that comes from it 😆 Kind of like the Fountain of Aging episode of Futurama where they have to figure out how to get back to the right ages again. Din, Grogu, Fennec, Boba, maaaaaybe Ahsoka, Cara Dune, Paz Vizsla, maybe Cobb Vanth, who knows. There’s some other characters that could be in the mix but it also depends on if it happens after my idea for TBoBF or if it’s closer to canon

The possible adult/s of the scenario would be Peli Motto and/or Toro Calican, with others dependent on what actually happens and what they get up to. Possible scenes include:

I think in my head it’s a case of the group collectively celebrating some downtime after the events of TBoBF, maybe a night similar to Samhain or Halloween or midsummer’s eve, a night when the veil between the worlds is thinner and strange magic is liable to slip through

Somebody invokes some incantation from a book or happens to bring some magical macguffin to the table or there’s a combination of Somethings™ happening while they’re drinking and telling stories long into the night. Whatever the case may be, everybody who was there wakes up the next morning changed

General panic between everybody as they contact each other to see if anybody else is hallucinating like they are, and those who were still planetside reconvene at the Palace as those who had left have to try to find their way back— Difficult to do when you’re not quite tall enough to reach all the controls of your ship, or you were en route to an important meeting that cannot be avoided.

Once they’ve convened and sort of figured out what happened they start planning a way to reverse it (all desperately hoping it’s possible)

Din is extremely conflicted about the fact his armor and especially his helmet no longer fit. He knows exactly how hard the galaxy can be towards children, and not having his primary protection and familiar fighting style available to him is going to make him incredibly vulnerable. Since the helmet no longer fits, he grabs a different mask in addition to a hood to shield himself, figuring if he still has all his memories, it’s just as well that he retains the code by which he lived as an adult. Grogu, luckily, doesn’t really seem to have changed much, and since he still has the same level of development he’s able to keep up with Din, the two of them sticking together.

Boba is incredibly frustrated at his armor no longer fitting him and has to adapt it as creatively as he can. The jetpack is unwieldy and off-balance with the missile launcher so he has to make do without it, but he layers up the breastplate, grabs the pauldrons and knee guards, and sets to work modifying the bracers amidst the other belts and trappings he’s kept ahold of.

Fennec notices Boba’s irritation at having long hair again for the first time in decades and at one point asks if he’d like her to cut it for him. Boba scowls and tells her if she even thinks of getting close to him with a razor, he’ll break her arm. Fennec, unperturbed but realizing her mistake, tells him to sit still and she’ll braid it for him so it’s at least out of his face. Boba’s silent but grudgingly accepts, and everyone else is wise enough to not bring it up

“You know at this age you kind of do look like your sister”

“My %#$?ing WHAT”

“Never mind”

Speaking of Fennec, she’s still the oldest and to her supreme satisfaction she also happens to be the tallest. Her sniper rifle is far too heavy though so she has to resort to staves, knives, and lighter guns. She’s an expert at adapting her weapons to fit as many as she can on her person. She’s really appreciating the renewed flexibility and range of movement: sayonara sore joints and slowly worsening eyesight

Peli Motto happens to drop by unannounced, dropping off some engine block or cloaking device Fett had her modify, needs a signature and payment from Fett so just moseys on down to the throne room only to be brought up short by a bunch of not-even-teenagers having a Very Serious Discussion just above the rancor pit and… Okay maybe she shouldn’t have had that experimental spice at the hookah lounge last night during the festivities because she could almost swear some of their faces look familiar—

“Peli it’s us.”

“Peli stop laughing this is serious.”

(She doesn’t)

Either that, or if it’s in the Toro Lives AU, Toro’s the one to find all of them first, and it’s still in the middle of all of them panicking so he’s doubly confused and being pulled four directions at once trying to be caught up to speed aaaaaaaand

Anyway he ends up as the de facto supervisor because they need SOMEbody who qualifies as an adult to get them into places they’ll obviously stick out like a sore thumb, and he’s just as baffled and honestly a little miffed at being ordered around by a bunch of kids but okay fine whatEVer, stop pushing

When they show up at Peli’s garage she laughs so hard she almost gives herself an asthma attack. “None of you look intimidating so stop glaring and put the gun away.” She refuses to play babysitter no matter how hard Toro begs.

[usaigi]

I think teen them inepisode 5 IS Jake! You don't see the whole memory and Marc doesn't seem to care about or acknowledge the memory. I have long suspected that Jake primarily dealt with their father and his in ability to deal with their problems. You even see teen them get angry and defensive and demand to know why Elias has not done anything to help them. If anything, they fell out of the memory so fast and hard that it most likely started as Marc and switched to Jake or he and Jake were co-conscious and Jake pushed through to stand up and full on defend them and argue. Most likely is that something happened that was their breaking point and Jake decided the best way to protect them was to get them out and finally leave.

Little Jake flipping them all off as he peaced out. I wonder how long Jake road shot gun before Marc ended up in front and decided to join the Marines. He probably took time to stop in a diner and have the first peaceful hearty meal in ages. Just a kid sitting alone with a stack of pancakes maybe while Gena kept a watchful eye on him. Bringing him free OJ. Fffffff I need little Jake adventures.

YES EXACTLY THANK YOU! Kissing your brain anon you read my mind.

Marc really doesn't seem super affected by the memory, he's just desperate to push Steven away from it which I'd argue is something Marc would do no matter what the memory was. Every "happy" or "neutral" memory from his childhood/adolescence is tainted by trauma. I think you're right that something triggered Marc and that was Jake's breaking point.

Although I don't know if Marc was co-con exactly, I personally think Marc was observing it or just a case of memory being weird. Jake sees Marc as a liability; he could get talked into staying so to make sure Marc or Steven don't get in the way of him doing his job, he pushed both of them away from the front. Jake probably acted as temporary host afterward just to make sure Marc didn't try to contact them/go back. Abusers often blow up when you leave so I think it's safe to assume that Wendy and Elias called him/emailed him/wrote him letters asking him to come back, telling him that things will be different, etc.

Later Marc would rationalize the memory as an out-of-body experience because of the adrenaline or something. Or in the "I don't know why I did that" type of way. (Probably something he's done a lot before, claiming that everyone feels like they're watching their body sometimes or that memories feel like dreams. Totally normal.)

The scene being in the middle of the day and Jake arguing with his dad are the main reasons why I think it's Jake. Jake doesn't care about "disrespecting his father," Jake's had to take on the role of protecting his system from their mom when it was never supposed to be his job. A child shouldn't need to protect themselves from their parent. It should be the parent's job to take protect them, Jake's pissed. Jake wants Elias to know that he's responsible, that he's just as guilty, he wants him to know.

If it was Marc who ran away, it wouldn't be so "public." As in, I think Marc would run away in the middle of the night or while his dad was at work or something. Partly because on some level Marc thinks he deserves the abuse, he thinks his mom is justified in hating him. But also because I think Marc would be scared. Scared of what his mom would do, scared of what his dad would say. I think Marc knows that if he were to run away in the middle of the day, he could be talked into staying. Because he wants to stay, he wants his mom to get better and love him, he wants to have his family back. Jake never had that, he's not going to be tied down by a fantasy.

Marc isn't good at recognizing and leaving abusive relationships. He was conditioned to believe that he is a worthless evil person who deserves bad things, he doesn't think he deserves anything better. He might say he does, that he knows what abusive dynamics looks like but doesn't. The military was abusive and he didn't leave by choice, he was kicked out. Bushman was abusive and Marc didn't leave by choice, he got shot. Khonshu is abusive and we all know how that played out.

So why did Jake go back to Khonshu?

Stealing this headcanon for the server but I think Khonshu is in the love-bombing stage with Jake. I think Jake sees their partnership is mutually beneficial; the suit can protect the body even when he can't by making them immortal and Khonshu gets his avatar. Jake thinks he knows better than Marc and Steven, that he can't be emotionally manipulated like they were but deep down I think Jake craves validation and protection. He wants someone to protect him, to see him, to care for him. (Which is also why I think he lets Elias touch him. If only for a second but he doesn't break away imminently, he wants his dad to protect him but he's been around long enough to know better.) Jake'll say that this is just a business deal but who do you think he has in his corner? Marc, Steven, and Layla don't know about him. Sure, Gene may be around and she may be nice but she can't protect him like Khonshu can.

As for little Jake(Jacobito)!! Meg wrote a fic about teenage Jake and now he's canon

Jake Plays Minecraft, Marc's a Wine Mom, and Frenchie & Layla Meet a Serial Killer by @yellowocaballero

Jake Stays Up Past His Bedtime, Meets His Contemporaries, and Wants a Dog So Fucking Bad by @yellowocaballero (anon, you'll like this one it's Jake hanging out at Gene's diner)

pick on someone your own size by @molemoon

@fencesandfrogs and I are also working on stuff for little Jake so stay tooned for that~

Art by @guruan

[dufferpuffer]

Thank you for the Snack reply

I liked your thoughts on all of it but especially the teen snack with Slytherin Sirius is something that really intrigued me.

I never read a fic where Slytherin Sirius is friends with Snape. Most times he is a loner and only regulus keeps him company, though I don't think this guy has in him to just be on his own. He is a dog so obviously he is gonna make friends....

And I mean he would maybe not run away if snape and him become friends because with James his views are skewed when it comes to dark magic. So maybe he can find a neutral ground with his family.

Thanks again....

Also wanted to mention how gr8 it is that you like canon lupin character without mollycoddling him. Salute to you for that. Because I myself fall in the category that I like to stay away from any fics where he is shown as a major character, irrespective if it is his canonic version or fanon version.

I am just totally irked with all the subtle ways he is being uplifted rather than keeping him an average character he is.

I mean lupin in hp world is a mirror image of average real human. We are mostly average in look, personality, income, luck etc. We are not prone to becoming vilian like Peter on the drop of hat, we are nit super loyal like Sirius, we are not extremely charismatic like James. Major people are average.

But fanon has made be totally turned off by this character.

Also I don't like him because I think I myself won't want to be in company of someone who is a pro gaslighter and manipulator. In these two situation he strays away from average human because general people are not so scared that they will do anything to protect themselves from smallest inconvenience.

Anyways, apologies that I went into my super unimportant rant.

This is not me bashing him.... This is me telling my reasons for disliking him and appreciating your ability to announce that yes you like him but you like him with flaws and all and not not the whitewashed version of him....

So kudos for being canon remus fanon....

You don't gotta like Remus, im not trying to change your mind or something I'm just gonna use this ask to blab about something I love about him B^) No need for apologies. I appreciate it and liked reading it :) I also don't like most fanon Remus'. He is either a soft little angel who is always nice and sweet - or he is... a tough, grumpy badass??? huh?? You are right in that he is more of a reflection of an 'average person', rather than having a more extreme personality trait. He is a normal guy... dealing with a chronic illness. A disability. A really fucking brutal one. + It is incurable + Children learn how to identify people with this disability - and how to kill them. + It's expensive (and near impossible) to treat - and the treatment mainly just makes it safer for other people rather than helping HIM not suffer. It sedates him - it doesn't help him feel better. + It is debilitating beyond the Full Moon. Days before the full moon he gets pale, sweaty, irritable... days after the full moon he is exhausted, torn up, healing... The rest of the month he has to deal with poverty and a lack of good meals or shelter. Even if he was allowed to have most jobs like normal Wizards, even if that were legal - he is sick. He struggles to do the work. Being trapped by that sickness, having to struggle, having the threat of everything being taken from you by other people who don't get it... The reality of managing your own body along with surviving homelessness and an utter lack of sympathy or support...

...It has made him not a very nice person sometimes. It has made him defensive, selfish, cowardly, paranoid, desperate, untrusting... And I love that. So, SO much. I LOVE HIM (Disability drabble below, sorta poorly thought out, I'm tired today)

It is rare to see characters with invisible disabilities, like severe mental illness - or fatigue and chronic pain. ...and every month loses his mind to 'the delusion of being a wolf.' Most stories cut off a characters limb and that's it. They get a 'better than flesh' replacement. Their disability becomes their best, strongest, coolest aspect. Why doesn't everyone cut their arm off...? But disabilities aren't cool. Us disabled people don't want to see someone like us that's 'all fixed' physically and mentally.

We want to see how being disabled has changed them. The struggles they go through to manage it. How they have learned to cope - and maybe even thrive.

On the flip side - characters with scars, disfigurements or disabilities are often villains. 'Ugly is evil', or 'I am different so now I am bad' Disabled characters aren't often allowed to just... have problems.

Either their disability isn't disabling or it defines their evil.

There are lots of mentally, invisibly or physically disabled people in Harry Potter - and the way they are portrayed is so... gritty and cool. One day I'll blab about how the series treats disability... One day.

I appreciate that Remus can be disabled and also flawed, toxic, struggling, misunderstood by everyone... but be good, too. He tries, so hard, and struggles to find people who can understand. It's a complex mix of his own problems and societies problems.

We see him tell children who love him that he is sick - and they have a flash of disgust, of mistrust, of cruelty. But he understands. Hes seen it so many times before. He is strong. He is forgiving. It has never killed his compassionate heart - nor his drive to nurture, to be helpful. But it HAS still hurt him. Broken him. It isn't 'okay'.

Remus is a lovely, soft man trapped within complex layers of different types of suffering - some of which he's done to himself, some were inflicted upon him... and some of which are unfixable. His story isn't one about getting better or being cured - it's about learning healthier ways to cope. Getting support. Unpicking the unhealthy coping strategies he has weaved for himself. That is interesting, deep, complex - and cathartic, as someone who has chronic health issues, too. My body attacks itself, too. The coping strategies I have learned aren't the same as Remus', but many of them aren't healthy. We are different... but it feels nice to see a character who goes through similar things - and not perfectly. Remus isn't trying to offer me answers to my problems, like 'just try harder' or 'get help'. Remus understands those things don't work. I just can't relate to able-bodied characters as much.

[ollierachnid]

I forgot to copy the numbers so woe! Writer questions be upon ye;

Who is your newest OC? Why did you make them?

Do you have any OCs without stories? Will you ever create one for them?

What are your favourite relationships between your OCs? (romantic or platonic!)

2) Newest OC.

The newest "group" of OCs are the characters I created for my 2000s, mystery / soap opera drama story lol. Spencer, Mara, Kerry, Joy, so on. I tend to create OCs in batches when developing story ideas, but focus more on the main one's. Here's a super recent scribble of Spence & Mara though

6) OCs without stories.

Yes, in terms of concrete plots or other characters, I have one OC without any real story. Mister, manic transient with a hero complex, but little in the way of story direction lol, adapted from an incredibly niche interest. I probably had others as a teen but they're either lost to time or were adapted into new OCs

7) Favourite relationships.

Ohh I'll give a few, of different varieties, but I do enjoy a good number of the relationships I've developed for my OCs., which is probably why they're so self contained.

Lou & their sister Anne:

Lou and Anne have such a fun relationship to ponder about and try to write for because the entire purpose of it was to deteriorate, because sometimes familial love isn't enough to keep people together, that proximity and desperation quite often breeds a variety of wrecks who will come to the point of not tolerating each other. They love each other dearly, but the person Lou becomes once they leave their parents makes the entire dynamic unsustainable, especially for Anne who faces the brunt of their volatility. They're great, in a tragic way. What happens with them is inevitable but sad.

Spencer & Mara:

Alarming! I have one distinctly healthy relationship amongst my OCs, it's these two. I'm not entirely sure how to describe their relationship bc it kind of necessitates explaining their entire plot line, but, they are very similar people (stubborn, loud, extroverts who feel the need to help everyone else without taking much time for themselves - which is how they remedy it with one another) who meet one another at drastically different points in their lives.

Spence is recently sober, flailing as he tries to manage his place with friends he can no longer surround himself with, trying to manage his infant daughter and Mara is a highly competent but overworked consultant and finding herself growing apart from her own, almost-adult daughter. They're drawn together after she treats Spencer's ex Kerry and comes to have a lot of affection for the poor woman before she passes, thus making her equally protective of the infant Joy. They're sort of navigating this awkward goal together bc Spence is a covert disaster without his support system and Mara feels that she needs someone to help because she couldn't with Kerry. Though overtime things obviously,, develop. They're sweet, they balance each other out in a lot of necessary places.

(This art is by the incredibly lovely @/alyxupshur!)

Nelson & Harry:

Don't want to ramble quite so much given my prior Fucking Screed, but Harry is the socialite son of Nelson's navy flame George, who tragically gets obliterated by a cannonball during a battle. Upon George's prior written request, Nelson takes up the mantle of young Harry's paternal figure, which he is remarkably stiff at. He does try very hard though, for a man that never wanted children. Harry loves him to bits

[universestreasures]

@crimsonkaiser​​ Sent: FOR THE “YOU CAN KILL ME BUT DON’T YOU DARE TOUCH THEM” DYNAMICS (Accepting)

[ EIGHTEEN ]  receiver thinks they’re alone but sender comes out of nowhere to rescue them from someone who intends to do harm/making them uncomfortable.  [@ Aichi, club was my first thought but protective kaichi could be any verse bc yes

“Hey there, Aichi...You still carrying around your old man’s sword I see...”

The sudden appearance of Morikawa causes the young teen to startle, Aichi frozen as the other approaches and essentially backs him into a literal street corner. He had been just finishing a few errands for his mother and was planning on heading back. Normally such duties were handled to Emi or Kamui, but ever since Kai came back into his life, he’s been feeling more comfortable going outside his house and into the village when before he would avoid it.

And it’s situations like the one he’s just found himself in that Aichi desperately oh so wanted to avoid. He didn’t do well with confrontation. He never has. That made him an easy target for bullies, especially ones who wanted something he had. Morikawa was no exception. Ever since Aichi inherited his father’s Blaster Blade, the egotistical spiked male has wanted to have it. It was a legendary magical weapon that has fought in countless battles and protected so many people, of course it was desirable. Still, you would think after so many years of trying to get it and Aichi protecting it with all his might that the other just give up, but Morikawa was as determined as he was loud, much to Aichi’s dismay.

“Don’t you think you’d be better off giving that sword to a real man that would get some use out of it? I’m sure your old man wouldn’t want his precious Blaster Blade to be sitting there collecting dust. And luckily for you, you got a real man right here who is more than happy to take it off your hands.” 

“M-Morikawa, I-I’ve told you already! This...This sword is...is very important to me! I can’t...I can’t just give it up! A-And besides, this sword doesn’t work for just anyone! It needs to-” 

Morkiawa’s hand slams into the wall beside the teen, Aichi tensing up at the suddenness of the movement. It was clear the taller teen wasn’t exactly happy with the younger one’s response. He wasn’t exactly the type to take no for an answer, after all. Any attempts made to get out of the situation are foiled, Morikawa using one of his feet to pin Aichi’s own to the ground. 

It looks like there wasn’t a way out of this. He didn’t have the strength nor the courage to fight back. He wasn’t like his father, the great swordsmen Ahmes who fought for justice and peace using the sword his son now carried on his back. If it wasn’t for the fallen warrior’s last wish, for Aichi to inherit the blade and keep it as a reminder of him, then perhaps he would have long handed it over to Morikawa by now. 

What would his father think of him, if he saw him like this?

That lingering question consumed Aichi’s mind as he closed his eyes in preparation for whatever beating was to come. It didn’t matter to him how broken his body would get. All he cared about in this moment was protecting the blade on his back, the precious gift from a loving father. That’s all he could do at the very least.

But the beating...never came? In fact, Aichi suddenly feels the pressure release from his foot. Cerulean hues then open themselves up again, a gasp soon escaping his lips after he comprehends the image in front of him. Morikawa was no longer in front of him, Aichi unable to see the other due to someone else blocking his view. And that person was...

“K-K-Kai Kun?!” 

~

[zachsreaderinserts]

sleepy boys inc x gn!teen! reader headcannons

trying something new! i like bbs and all, but i wanted to write for other youtubers! lemme know if yall wanna see more content like this lol.

this takes place in a minecraft au!!! also, mentions of bad parenting/abusive parents

wc: 2,319

okay the sleepy boys

chaos incarnated, all of them. you can’t deny it

so, when tommy invites a friend from a local village, at first, everyone else is skeptical. since when has tommy made a friend who didn’t hate him within 20 minutes from all the screaming and insults he spewed?

unlike his friends, phil is more excited than anything. though he isn’t tommy’s dad, he feels like it sometimes, so he really wants to meet this new person who has caught the youngest’s attention

techno is very much not on board. he has a hard time trusting people at first glance and having been friends with tommy for the longest, he knows that tommy readily jumps the gun and attempts to befriend literally anything just because he can

and wilbur? indifferent for the most part. yes, he feels the need to make sure tommy is protected and cared for, but he also recognizes that this situation is out of his hands. the best he can do is hope that their friend isn’t an absolute asshole

so, it’s saturday. all three men are sitting on the couch in phil’s cottage, talking amongst themselves as they wait for tommy to come back. techno makes a joke about murdering them, which leads to phil scolding him about his violent tendencies

“you haven’t even met them yet, techno, what the fuck.”

wilbur is simply adding fuel to the fire, making little remarks here and there and watching the whole thing escalate to phil lecturing the piglin hybrid.

because of this, not one of them had noticed that tommy returned, with his newest friend. they both stopped at the sight of phil in dad mode, tommy considering just turning around and taking his friend as far away as physically possible

too late, since techno’s sixth sense made him whip around and stare at the newcomer. this made phil stop lecturing and wilbur quit giggling long enough for tommy to introduce his friend

after saying their name, the friend lifted their hand shyly, face burning from slight embarrassment. their other hand was latched onto tommy’s, feeling intimidated.

can you blame them? the fucking blood god looks like they wanna skewer them and cook them over a campfire.

tommy took notice of their shyness and cleared his throat, “we were planning on going to the carnival in their village if you three assholes feel like tagging along.”

like there was any way they were gonna let tommy and his friend go out without chaperones.

tommy turned back to his friend, “give me a second, i’m gonna go grab my sword just in case.” and proceeded to run up the stairs and towards the guest bedroom in phil’s house that he claimed.

the millisecond he was out of earshot, techno grabbed his friend by the front of the shirt.

“what are your intentions with tommy?”

the friend blinked once, twice, then bit back a smile. “you’re asking that as if i’m about to date that motherfucker.”

this time, it was wilbur who bit back a grin of his own. who would’ve expected the originally shy kid to have replied like that????

techno’s brain short circuited and his grip on their shirt loosened slightly. did.... did this kid just brush off his question???

“can you put me down? you’re gonna stretch my shirt.”

techno’s brain blinked back into focus and he gripped the kid’s shirt harder, shoving them against the nearest wall. “i asked a question, kid.”

“you know, tommy told me something like this would happen. i’m glad i came prepared.” and then, tommy’s friend sucked in a deep breath. techno leaned back, expecting the worst...

“MWISTER TECHNWOBWADE, PWEASE PUT MWE DOWN BEFWORE I SCWEAM”

oh god, this was far worse than anything he thought of.

he dropped the teen out of disgust more than anything, reeling backwards. if there was one thing that haunted his dreams, it was uwu-speak.

phil started howling of laughter, clutching his stomach and hunching over. originally he was going to stop techno from threatening a literal child but this outcome was so much better than anything he was anticipating

wilbur was no better, already tearing up from how hard he was snickering. he started choking on his own spit at one point, smacking his arm against the couch.

tommy was so fucking confused when he came back down the stairs, seeing the mayhem that was, for once, not caused by him. he glanced at his friend, who had the world’s biggest shiteating grin.

yeah, they were gonna fit in just fine.

and they did! phil took them under his wing (both physically and metaphorically) and allowed them to come visit his home whenever they wished. and whenever they did, phil was the first to ask how they’ve been and what they were up to

to phil’s surprise, the kid was overall calm in their choice of activities. things like playing soccer or drawing or figuring out how to learn instruments in their free time. it seemed like they were desperate to get their hands on anything and everything just to learn

he found it funny, though, when their chaotic side shone through. they easily were on tommy’s level when they got into that headspace and it was so hilarious to him.

his favorite memory of the kid was when they walked into the house and marched right up to where techno was reading idly in the corner. planting their hands on their hips, they spoke.

“if you were to fuck a clone of yourself, would it be masturbation or would you be considered gay?”

phil, who was washing the dishes six feet away from them, just about crumbled into a ball on the floor from how hard he was laughing and sobbing.

of all questions, that was the one that came out.

but he had no idea that the chaos was a coping mechanism. he just thought they were naturally like that in their free time.

he soon found out the truth when they came home with tommy, who was cursing up a fit, visibly angry. his friend was slumped over, as if trying to hide themselves from the world

when phil asked what had happened, tommy exploded.

“their fucking dad took all their money from their savings! said he needed it more than them and when they asked for it back, he called them a fucking disappointment! that fucking bitch--”

phil can count very few times when he felt true anger and he can confirm that when tommy had told him what had gone down, he saw red.

but he knew better than to outwardly show it. judging by how hunched over and defeated the kid was, what they needed was a stable support system

so he walked over and shut tommy up with a hand on his shoulder, “why don’t we take the rest of the night to build up that game room you wanted in the basement. i’m sure if we knock it out before techno and wil are supposed to be back, we can all play something like monopoly.”

seeing where phil was headed, tommy nodded and brushed away his anger. he knew that what his friend needed was a serious cheering up. tommy ran towards his guest bedroom, claiming that he was going to find his blocks.

phil crouched in front of the teen, tilting their head up to look him in the eyes. “you’re not a disappointment. you’re an amazing person with a chaotic joke machine going 120 kilos over the speed limit in your head and you are talented. your dad doesn’t know shit about what you’re capable of doing.”

oh boy, the kid’s crying. those are tears, full on tears.

that night was one of the best nights of their life, however. they enjoyed the entire three hour long game of monopoly where they watched the light leave everyone’s eyes. it was funny when wilbur lunged across the table when he landed on a railroad, out for phil’s blood.

speaking of wilbur, he enjoyed every minute in the kid’s presence. they often asked creative and random questions and went along with the abstract jokes he made, the two of them laughing heartily the entire time.

when the kid first mentioned wanting to learn how to play the guitar, he practically burst through the wall of the room next door, breathing heavily and exaggeratedly.

“did someone say guitar”

yeah, he’s feral. that’s canon.

they proceeded to spend the entire day in phil’s garden, each of them equipped with a guitar. despite their outwardly smooth brain and stupid demeanor, the teen was a fast learner and could play the most basic chords by the time the sun was setting.

wilbur’s favorite moment was the first night they met, when they went to the carnival. there was the game where you shoot the water and fill up the balloons and the kid was going head to head against techno and tommy.

it was when techno won that the teen turned to techno with murder in their eyes and spoke in a deadpan tone of voice,

“you’re lucky you won this time, you gentrified mayo monkey.”

wilbur’s jaw dropped, as did techno and phil’s. tommy was already in hysterics, smacking his hand against the counter that held the guns.

needless to say, wilbur found his favorite, not-quite sibling in a heartbeat.

techno was the last to come around with the child. can you blame him? every time he tried to threaten them or had beaten them at something, they would respond in a cryptic threat--

“i’m going to pee your pants if you don’t let me win”

or just brushed him off. without a second thought.

“anyways, i was murdering a chicken the other day, and the fucker had the audacity to ribbit at me.”

to say he was confused was an understatement. he was terrified of the fact that a literal child held so much power and disinterest in things like their own life. so for the first few months, he avoided them.

but he had seen past that when it was around midnight on a weekday. tommy was hanging out with tubbo and ranboo in their village miles away from the area. wilbur was out drinking with schlatt, niki, and fundy, and phil was already asleep.

techno wasn’t too far behind, sitting in front of the fireplace and staring out of the window that showed the front yard. it was only then when he saw the flash of a familiar face and looked closer as the teen walked up to the house quietly. their head was down and they carried a small bag with them.

techno opened the front door with a long creak as they reached the porch steps. it was only when they jumped and looked up in surprise that techno had noticed a deep bruise on their left cheek in the moonlight.

despite the fact that he kept away from them, techno was very protective and territorial of tommy, phil, and wilbur. and since they were attached to the teen, he became protective of them as well.

so all the voices in his head went quiet for a second. before exploding into a mixture of screams and threats, all leading back to protecting the child in front of him.

without thinking, he reached forward and cupped their face for a better view of the bruise. at the warm and soft touch, tears slipped down the kid’s cheeks and they sniffed pathetically.

the voices quickly took a 180, all screaming to take care of them. make them feel better. so, techno led the kid inside and let them spend the night in his room, with them falling asleep on the bed and him falling asleep on the rocking chair in his room.

phil did not hesitate to officially declare himself as the teen’s official father, saying that their biological father was a “little bitch”

now somewhat living with the teen, techno found an appreciation for their quieter moments, when they were reading or simply daydreaming. it was cute, in his eyes. but he also grew to enjoy when they were absolutely feral, especially toward tommy.

his favorite moment with them was when they had gifted tommy a music disc for his birthday. it was sweet and sentimental and tommy just about burst into tears when he saw it.

all of the sappiness quickly vanished when tommy put it into a jukebox.

“FUCK THIS PUSSY, BOY, FUCK. FUCK IT RIGHT, BOY--”

tommy had let out the most terrified scream and it practically engrained itself into techno’s brain. it was the first time he ever laughed at something the teen had done and the teen felt proud of themselves.

and finally, tommy. he was already happy to call himself a friend of the teen’s. they were like peas in a pod, working together.

tommy came to them when his insecurity felt heavy and they came to him whenever their dad’s words got to them. they had a nice system of dependency on one another and neither of them would trade it for the world.

tommy’s favorite moment of being friends with them was during their first birthday living in phil’s house. it was a birthday befitting their personality, with brightly color streamers hung and confetti all over the floor. he knew that they enjoyed it severely and once the cake was cut, the kid turned to phil.

“phil, where’s the big tiddy strippers i requested?”

tommy was GONE

he all but choked on his slice of cake and walked away, shaking his head while trying to stifle his giggles. but when he heard phil’s scream of “WHAT”, he just lost it.

all in all, his friend had made a fine part of the sleepy boys. they were a happy face in an otherwise somewhat bleak and dangerous world. and all four men appreciated it.

[refriedweeb]

PUT YOUR LIPS ON MY SKIN ( HAWKS + READER 18+)

A/N: heyyoo! refriedweeb here again with another request from @alexandria-selina and has elements of jealous hawks with his wings (from that tiktok head canon of them puffing out you know what I mean) and this post from @keiqos !

Prompt: “A jealous Hawks where his s/o gets hit on by another pro and she's blushing. She's just being shy but Hawks takes it as she likes it. Instead of getting into a fight with the pro, he shows his s/o why she shouldn't look at anyone else.”

Tags/Warnings: smut, overstimulation, jealousy, mirror fucking, spit, a lil bit of blood, rutting, feral, aftercare, kink, jealous, dirty talk.

Word count: 5,080

Keigo Takami hated hero events. He hated having to wear the Hawks persona day in and day out, especially when it came to being surrounded by his fellow pro heroes. Now, don’t get the guy wrong, he did enjoy what he did for a career despite any behaviors he had to unlearn from the hero commission themselves. He wanted to save people, he wanted to make the world a better and safer place. He just hated all the bullshit politics that came with it. They were heroes, hell. It wasn’t about making best friends and going to fancy events when there was always going to people out there that needed them while they clinked glasses of overpriced champagne.

Though, one thing Keigo didn’t think he minded that much was seeing you dolled up in a dress that led his mind to sinful, dark places. You and Keigo had only recently started dating, after months of him slowly starting to open up to you about the shit that he’d gone through, how he’d really felt about the commission once he’d gotten the sense that he could trust you. It’d been a struggle to call yourselves an item, but now that you could, Keigo felt what he could only assume was peace inside of a darkened and traumatized heart. There was also another emotion that was stirring in him that had nothing to do with peace, and all of those awful things that he wanted to do to your body. None that he would apologize for, of course.

It wasn’t his fault that the commission had decided to host a little event when he was in the peak of his rut season.

And oh, was Keigo in trouble. You’d recently started wearing a new perfume that had driven him up a wall the moment he’d caught the scent on you at the beginning of his mating season. It wasn’t sickly sweet, but sweet enough, and mixed perfectly with your natural pheromones to create a musk that drove his cock to twitch every time you shook some hair over your shoulder, stretched, fucking just breathed. He’d been unable to keep his hands off you for the majority of the weeks that had past, except as of late. You’d told him to keep his filthy paws to himself leading up to the event, not wanting to be bruised or love bit to all hell because Keigo couldn’t control himself. The way that he saw it, the dress you’d picked for the night was to torment him on purpose. Deep red velvet that matched his wings, settling over the curve of your hips, the flow of your waist.

You’d made him promise to be on his best behavior for the night, not wanting any trouble or any media to get wildly stories about what your relationship was really about. But damn, if the moment you were alone with him, he was going to tear that dress to shreds with what little talons he had in place of regular nails. You, on the other hand, your body had been spent. Keigo was insatiable on a good day, but ever since the rut season had started, it’d been exceptionally so. Not that you could complain, your body was sore in a much different, more appreciative way than you felt with sparring.

And yes, you had chosen the red velvet dress on purpose. It was your goal of the night to drive Keigo as out of his mind as possible. You couldn’t read him quite as well yet, your relationship still relatively new, and Keigo working through an entire lifetime of walls to protect his emotional security from the hero commission. His expression was a blank one, but when you locked eyes with him, Keigo gave you the smallest eyebrow raise as he looked you up and down. A silent stamp approval that had heat blossoming up your neck. He wanted to make that perfume you were wearing mixed with his own, he wanted to make sure that anyone who got a whiff of your scent knew who you belonged to. He wasn’t a fan of sharing by any means.

The night carried on, speeches given by the leaders of the commission (which you’d always found yourself by Keigo’s side much to his comfort), Endeavor’s speech, All Night’s retirement speech, and so on and so on. There’s been a light array of snacks while the pros mingled, finding yourself talking to Shinya Kamihara, otherwise known to the world as Edgeshot. It wasn’t very often you got to mingle with the top ten pros, your rank in the high teens, so you found yourself shy. Not quite sure how to handle yourself around such class, experiences, and amazing heroes. You were sure the blush on your cheeks, your neck, was visible from outer space. Shinya was a gentleman, he complimented you on your quirk, your work, and the little bit of history you’d talked to him about on why you had made your choice to become a hero. From your point of view, it was a harmless conversation that was borderline on friendly as you got to know the fellow hero, but from a certain outside perspective it was something a little more.

Keigo wasn’t paying attention to any of the conversation going on around him, his eyes were focused on you. The way you tipped your head back as you laughed, sending another ripple effect of your smell through the air. Was that bastard Edgeshot trying to move in on you? Did he really think he had a chance? He swallowed the jealousy in his throat, though his avian side had a mind of its own on this. His wings, proud and defensive, puffed out. This caused a stir of the other heroes around him, asking if there was something they missed that he’d alerted to. Keigo laughed, the same charismatic Hawks as always, saying they just needed a stretch. He crossed his arms, fidgeting with one of his cuff links. Keigo, jealous? Haha. HAHAHAHA...ha? His eyes were narrowed into slits as he watched you pat Edgeshot on the shoulder, leaning in to kiss his cheek before the other hero moved away.

His instinct was to claim you right then and there. To rub his scent all over you and yours on his so that no one else would mistake you as open. But...that’d certainly cause a scene and that was something he promised he wouldn’t do that night. So, Keigo bit back on his instinct, unclenched his jaw, and behaved for the rest of the night. Anything that came after that was entirely out of his control. You’d floated around to him throughout the night, not doing much outside of brushing hands together, a chaste smile shared between you. This was your first real hero event ever since you broke into the teens of your career, and it was one you wanted to soak in. Keigo knew this, and didn’t want to spoil it for you despite his own feelings on the event. 

Keigo’s mood, his want, took a turn for the worse when it came to someone actually flirting with you. You, not experienced enough with the personalities of some of these heroes to realize what was happening. It wasn’t Edgeshot this time, no. Now...it was Ryo Inui, better known as Hound Dog. And he was like Keigo in a way that he wanted to mark whatever it was that he wanted. Ryo put his hand on the small of your back, where Keigo’s hand was supposed to go. He laughed when you laughed, leaning in close to you as like there was some desperate secret he needed to share with your ears only. Ryo was flirting with his girlfriend and was being so bold about it. No, nope. That would not do for him. His wings fanned out again, this time catching the attention of several people around him, you and Ryo included. Your mouth dropped open in awe at the sight, though when you caught Keigo’s eyes to see his pupils narrowed into slits, something like a firework set off in your belly. 

That fucking mutt dared to spoil that perfume that sent him into a frenzy with his dog-like scent? That wasn’t something that Keigo could stand for in the slightest. That scent was you. It was the scent he had been planning on burying his own in.

The two of you left the event shortly after.

On the ride back to Keigo’s place, the car was silent. Not a word was spoken between the two of you, though it was full of tension in a way where if you breathed, you felt that you could choke on it. He drove fast, shifting gear after gear with aggression that made you wish it was your neck he gripped so hard. As you sat in the passenger seat,  you couldn’t help but rub your thighs together to feel some of that much desired tension between your legs. This didn’t go unnoticed by Keigo, and he hissed. 

Still, the two of you didn’t exchange words until you were behind the privacy of his front door. And even then, you spoke first. “Everything okay, Keigo?”

His pupils were still zeroed in on you, as he stalked towards you, every bit the predator bird that he was. And fuck, if it didn’t make you want to melt into a puddle at his feet. You walked backwards, careful not to trip over the towering heels you were in. His body was hot, flush against yours though he refused to touch you. Keigo wanted to take his time with this, with devouring you. You’d rubbed it in his face how much the rest of the heroes wanted you, being the little flirt that you were. There was no need for him to rush into anything, the way Keigo saw it. “Oh, everything’s fine.” He commented, tone dark. “I could handle that nimrod Edgeshot eyeing you up like some desert, sure. I behaved,” Keigo tipped his head to the side as he shrugged. He’d managed to walk you back into the bedroom you’d been sharing recently. 

“What are you talking about? Edgeshot was just being friendly!”

Keigo’s chuckle was cynical, but it turned the silk of your bundle into a pearl with how quickly it excited you. “He wanted to tear this dress of you just as much as I do.” How he was. “But then you had to go and be a little tease, didn’t you?” Keigo was watching you like a hawk would watch a mouse just before it clutched it in its’ talons. “Had to let Ryo rub himself on you like the mutt he is. In the middle of my rutting season.” Your back bumped up against the floor length mirror behind you as Keigo gripped your jaw, the sharp curve of what would have been talons biting into the skin there. “All I can smell on you is him.”

He clucked his tongue. Sharp, narrowed eyes lowered over your skin and back up. You were breathless and Keigo hadn’t even touched you yet. “That just won’t do, now will it, (Y/N)?”

“K-Keigo, I don’t know what you’re-”

A soft cry of pain rose from the back of your throat as his version of talons sank into your skin, enough to draw a little bit of blood. This was Keigo in his rutting form times a million, a possessive version of him you’d never seen before. Part of you was scared, but the larger part of you was excited. He wanted to claim you. He wanted to make you more than just his. 

“I asked if that would do, (Y/N)?”

Unable to speak with how tightly Keigo gripped your jaw, you simply shook your head from side to side. No, it wouldn’t do. That crooked smirk brushed over Keigo’s lips, and you wanted to taste him so bad. Taste the anger on his tongue, feel the fury in the rows of his teeth. Keigo was pissed, more than anything, that someone had tried to erase his claim on you. So, the only way to make sure that never happened again was to mold the scent of you with his. “That’s a good little slut.” Keigo released his hand from your jaw, the faint tickle of blood that ran down your jaw sending a shiver down your spine.

Keigo turned surprisingly gentle as he turned you around, as he pressed your hands up against the curve of the mirror that you were facing. “I’m going to make you watch me claim you. Fuck you and fill you until there’s no fucking mistaking who you belong to.” His hands dug into the back of your skin, and you winced. “You keep these hands right here, and if you don’t, there’ll be problems. Do you understand, little bird?”

“Yes, Keigo.”

His devilishly wicked smile returned. And so did the greed in his hands. Keigo took his time groping you, the swell of your breasts full in his hands. The winding curves of your waist and hips. Down the silken road of the dress that he swore he’d destroy. He wasn’t soft, gentle. Keigo was at his brink already, but he wanted to take his time with torturing you for being such a teasing little whore. His hands gripped the sides of your thighs, plunged through the velvet fabric so that lines of red were exposed in the slits he left behind. A soft moan escaped you at the sensation of talons digging through your skin, and he watched your expression in the mirror’s reflection as he did it over your backside. “Do you like that, whore?” he whispered in your ear. “When I leave my mark on you? When all you can feel is me?”

“Yes, fuck,” you breathed in response. He buried his face in the juncture of your neck and collarbone, taking a deep breath in that still smelled like mutt, fueling his need to erase that smell completely. His kisses were wet, sloppy, tongue traced over the length of your collarbone, of your neck. A soft sigh escaped you, your grip on the perimeter of the mirror growing tighter as the need to touch Keigo grew. His teeth sank into the soft spot of your neck, your head falling back on his shoulder as he suckled the skin there, a patch of pink blossoming against the skin there that would eventually bruise. The assault against your neck and your shoulders didn’t stop there, either. He ran his nose along the length of your shoulders, leaving trails of wet, angry patches from where he’d bit and pulled at your skin. There wasn’t a single ounce of Keigo that was kidding when he said he was going to erase every trace of anyone on your body but him. His cock was hard, and it would have been so easy to just bury himself inside the soft warmth of your cunt, and god how he ached to.

But the best things came to those that waited.

While his tongue and mouth worked at your neck and shoulders, his fingers played with your breasts, groping and pulling at the skin there with reckless abandon. Fingers pinched at your nipples, sharpened nails ghosted across the tender flesh there. You shuddered, shifted where you stood as you ground against his hips, feeling the thick length of him there. Keigo had barely even touched you, but you could feel the pool of warmth between your thighs only growing wetter. “Keigo,” you mewled. 

“Hmm?” his breath came hot against the ear he had been nibbling on, and your knees knocked together. 

“Touch me,” you pleaded.

“Touch you where?” His tone sounded positively bored, pinching your nipple between his thumb and index finger that caused you to squeal.

“My pussy,” you caught sight of your own desperate expression in the mirror, all while Keigo looked like a predator playing with his food. And in that moment, you realized this was exactly what it was. Keigo was toying with you before he sent you to the next level of existence. Your legs quivered.  “Play with me.”

“Have you been a good little bird?” He asked.

“Yes.”

His hum seemed to be a satisfied answer, because his hands left your breasts, finding a new home at the back of your dress. But rather than go for the zipper, Keigo simply tore the fabric. The sound of it ripping filled the room as it pooled down at your feet seconds later. Leaving you exposed save for the same colored red pair of panties you’d worn that night. The dress had left no room for a matching bra given the dip at your back it’d once had. But that was of no consequence to Keigo. Keigo let out a sharp breath through his teeth as he admired your body and all that came with it. His hands found the curve of your backside, kneading the flesh there with thought. You could feel the tent of him pressing in between your thighs, and you let him slip between your thighs, shifting your thighs back and forth to alleviate some of the tension in his cock for him.

On instinct, more due to the fact that the bird in him wanted to cover you in his scent and his cum, Keigo rolled his hips into you with a snap of a thrust. It pushed you forward, almost sending you colliding with the mirror. “Little bird, that wasn’t very nice of you.” He scolded, letting a finger draw under the band of your panty before lifting it up. A moment later it was slapping against your skin, and you hissed. “I’ll have to punish you. Such behavior tonight...” he drawled, quickly shedding his formal attire until he was dressed down to just his pants. Keigo pressed his chest against your back, rubbing himself against you. His free hand returned to one of your breasts, toying with the nipple there as he murmured in your ear, his voice husky. 

Feral.

“So naughty tonight...” Keigo continued as his other hand slipped down the front of your body, underneath the dark red lace that had kept that pretty little cunt concealed from him. He found how wet you already were for him, slick glaze quick to coat his fingers as he ran them up and down between your legs. “Already so ready for me. You really are the little tease, aren’t you?” A moan escaped you as he teased the tip of his finger around the circle of your clit, but not quite touching it. “So filthy...” he went on, breath hot against where he’d drawn out hickies moments before. 

You were so eager for him to be inside of you, already so wet for him, Keigo had the perfect punishment for you being so naughty. He brushed his thumb against your clit, and your grip on the mirror slid down as you fought not to grab onto him. He was tantalizingly slow as he circled around your clit, tapping against the swollen bud every so often but not often enough for what you needed in that moment. His chuckle was dry, the hand that had been playing with your breast sneaking up to your neck. Your thighs were slick with your need, your core on fire as he teased you closer and closer to your edge. 

Keigo tipped your head back, opening your mouth as he leaned in. As he spat on the tongue you’d pushed out like the slut you were. Every possible hole he could find to fill you with, Keigo was going to. You weren’t going to be able to walk down the fucking street without a single person forgetting who you belonged to. “What do we say, little bird?”

“Thank you,” you rasped as he slid two fingers into you, feeling him stretch your walls as he slowly pumped them in and out of you. He was slow, methodical, holding your jaw in place so that he could look down at that awestruck expression on your face as he finger fucked you. Your belly was on fire, waves of fire rolling as your orgasm wound tighter and tighter around his fingers. Keigo could feel his own cock slick with his precum, knowing he wouldn’t be able to last much longer himself.

 “I don’t like it when other people look at you like you’re theirs for the taking,” Keigo muttered when he the tip of his nail along your clit. The featherlight sensation caused your knees to buckle, your hips to buck as you fell back into him. “You’re mine. And I’m going to fill you so fucking good that no one makes that mistake again.” He stretched your walls further with a third finger, and you writhed in your standing position as he continued to work those fingers in and out of you. The coil in your belly was wound tight enough where you thought

“Who do you belong to, little bird?” His fingers picked up pace, the sound of your silken glaze coating him filling the room while you fought to make your brain remember words. Your mouth hung open as he finger-fucked you, head bobbing against his shoulder as he looked down at you expectantly. “Tell your man who this pussy belongs to, and I’ll let you cum.” He could feel how close you were, the sound of your mewls turning to pants.

“You! It belongs to you!” you whimpered, grinding against his hand, your hips rolled forward to press his fingers deeper inside you. “Please, Keigo!”

This satisfied him enough, at least for now. His pace quickened still until your head was hung forward between your shoulders, moaning his name over and over as you watched him finger fuck you. Your orgasm was on the brink, the precipice of pleasure and all you needed was -

“Ah, fuck! Fuck, Ke-AH,” That needed push found you moments later and you were spilling around the spread of his fingers, your orgasm taking over you as your legs spasmed, knees buckling so that Keigo had to support you with a hand around your waist. Your grip on the outer of the mirror so ironclad you thought you’d break it. It rolled through you in waves, Keigo’s fingers sticky as he pulled them from you, suckling your sweetness of his fingers like it was candy. Shit. 

“What a good little slut,” he whispered. The sound of his belt loosening, the pants falling, re-sparked that fire you’d just doused by orgasming. You could see his cock, curved and thick with a head already milking his cum. “Gonna fill you so good now, gonna fuck you full of my cum.” You watched, mouth dry as he milked himself with a fist. “Gonna watch me fuck you, baby bird.” You could feel the press of his head between your thighs, and you widened your stance to accommodate him. 

Then, without warning, he thrust so hard into you, that you cried out in pain. His thrusts from the get go were borderline violent, painful as you fought against being thrown into the glass of the mirror. A hand fisted into your hair, pulling it sharply enough that you could feel the pain, but with enough leeway that you could still watch as he moved in and out of you, his cock already wet with what was left behind from your first orgasm. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, the smell of sweet sex coming shortly after. You were unable to make any intelligible noises aside from mewls and gasps, while Keigo was behind you muttering to himself about how good your pussy felt, how it was made for his cock, how he was going to fill you up so fucking good. 

The mountain climb to your orgasm started again, your cunt clenching around him as he thrust in and out of you with feverish need. His hips were sloppy, and you didn’t dare tear your eyes away from where he slipped in and out of you. “Such a sweet fucking cunt,” Hawks groaned, twisting your hair tighter in his fist. “My fucking pussy.” he hissed with a thrust that hit the highest point of your wall and caused you pain. Yet you didn’t dare stop. The look on Keigo’s face, the roll of his bottom lip between his teeth, let you know he was close to his high. The sight of him so focused on fucking you wound your belly tighter, and you missed the hand that slipped down to your clit once more. You cried out, the over-sensitized nub of your clit protesting as his thumb found it once more.  The grip you had on the mirror shifted again, a move to get his hand away from where you were most sensitive.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” he growled, and your legs quivered. His eyes were still narrowed into near-invisible slits as you obeyed the order. You shook, spasmed, as he raced your orgasm to line up with his. 

“Please, please, ah, hrnngh, Kei-” your hips found the rhythm to match his almost instantly, and tears sparked in your eyes as the bundle of nerves exploded inside of your body, every nerve ending inside you set on fire, exploding as your second orgasm found you just moments before Keigo found his own. 

“Fuck, fuck yeah, gonna fill you so fuckin-Urngh,” Keigo groaned, fucking into you with one last violent thrust as he spilled himself in you, shooting ribbons of cum that went scorching through your core. There was a moment as the two of you stood there, Keigo still inside of you, breathing heavily. You on the other hand, were shaking all over, barely able to keep yourself on both legs. 

Keigo’s callused finger pad was still resting over your clit, and even the smallest shift sent a wave of pleasured pain coursing through your entire body. You were overstimulated, likely to cum if he persisted again. “Kei...” you whispered.  His head was resting over your collarbone, hung low. He reached out and slapped your hand away, pressed it back to the mirror. He wasn’t done with you.

“Told you, little bird. Gotta punish you.”

A whimper rolled through you, “I can’t, I can’t, I-” you let out a whine as he tapped his thumb against you again, slowly rolling a half-hard cock in and out of you as he started at your clit again. Massaging it slowly, cruelly. Your legs bowed out, slack as it was on Keigo alone to keep you supported with your weight against his chest. “Gotta make sure you know,” his hips snapped against yours again, and those tears that had been hidden in your eyes slipped loose. “That no one else is gonna fuck you this good. No one’s gonna make you feel this good.” he said, your body screaming at you for relief, for the prickling of nerves in your skin to cease. “You’re my good little slut.” You could feel whatever remnants of his cum shooting out into you once more, wetness cascading down your thighs. 

The perfume you’d been wearing now, Keigo noted, was mixed so heavily with his own pheromones and sex, that there was no mistaking who fucked you at night. Who you were mated to. You were all Keigo’s, and that was what mattered to him. But he still had to finish punishing you for being a little tease, for allowing that musky scent to be tarnished by anyone other than him. You were a whimpering, sobbing mess, flushed against his body as your hips moved on their own accord in time with the fingers he was using between your sopping lips. Your cries were pained, unintelligible pleas to cum and be released. Yet, he took his time. Feeling that sweet cunt clamp down around his fingers once he pulled out of you. A moment’s reprieve before his fingers stretched you all over again. He wound you tighter, and tighter, sending that fire racing through your veins.

“I can’-” you cried out, a threatening wave of pleasure and pain coursing through you. “Please let me cum, please. I’ll be good, I’ll be good.” tears were wet against your cheek as he played with you. 

“You promise, little bird?”

“Yes! Yes I promise!” you begged.

After all that time of keeping your hands on the perimeter of the mirror, your third and final orgasm had them flying to Keigo’s hair for stable purchase as it overtook you. Your sobs filled the room as your rode out the final orgasm, your chest heaving in shuddering breaths as Keigo worked you through it, held onto your body tightly to keep you from collapsing. Your legs were soaked, your nether region slick from top to bottom. Keigo pulled his fingers from inside you, slick and thick coated with both of your bodily fluids. His eyes met yours through the mirror as those fingers dipped between your lips, pushing them onto the flat of your tongue as you lapped and sucked them clean. Only when he was satisfied you’d gotten every last drop of each other’s cum, did Keigo pull his fingers from your mouth.

“You did so good, little bird.” he cooed in your ear, nuzzling his nose against the curve of your ear as he placed gentle kisses to sweat-soaked hair. Brushed away the tears on your cheeks. “Such a good girl,” he said, a hand smoothing over the places he’d bitten and marked you.  Lips gentle as he pressed chaste kisses to the place on his jaw where his talons pricked you. The feral need for Keigo to fuck you into oblivion was satiated for now, his touch now gentle as he caressed and soothed you, the aftershocks of an overstimulated orgasm lessening as time lapsed. He was pleased that your scent now, was so heavily mixed of him and that perfume. No one was going to act as Hound Dog had, especially now. His lips were soft against your temple, his thumbs tender against the curve of your shoulders. It was a scent he was immediately fond of, and a scent he’d do anything to protect, to maintain. Keigo hummed, folding you up into the safety of his arms, surrounded by nothing but contentedness. 

[asterekmess]

Been seeing you getting hate mail and while I absolutely can't understand why anyone would go to all the trouble to make some one else feel bad... I also kinda really love the discourse on Scott? Like YOUR RANTS oh man. On point. Always. Tbh I tried giving Scott a chance... He is the main char after all... But I was like??? Wtf? That dude does nothing but refute others and does whatever he wants. And this was when I didn't particularly like Stiles either (first time watching Teen Wolf). But then I got to know more of him and like Tony he went asshole to lovable asshole—seriously, Stiles might not be the ‘nicest’ but he tries and his heart is in good place—while Scott is just... self-righteous. Someone pointed out that he sees people as possessions and that irks me too that I can actually see it being true. The dude has literally nothing going on except for being the one that gets bitten. And the Romeo-and-Juliet-esque romance he has.

Okay, okay, where was I going with this?? Right. LOVE YOUR RANTS. People need to understand that Scott not being liked isn't because of his race or anything trivial like it—he just happens to be—but because of his actions. Or inactions, as it were. *remembers the pool scene and Scott saying he's busy and resists the urge to chuck a shoe at him*

Basically, love you, love your work, and love your words! ❤️

I've talked with some friends about it, and our number one issue sort of...boiled down to the hypocrisy of the show? I....sort of rant a lot here, and I would add a Read More, but I can't find the option anymore?? I fucking hate Tumblr. EDIT: I found a post that told me how to do it!

So, since he's the character I focus on the most, let's talk about Stiles' morality. Because, you're right. Stiles is an asshole. He does some fucking awful shit in the first season, and even if he had a Reason to do it, it was still bad. And I still don't like it. But I understand it.

Stiles' lack of shits about what is 'lawful' is literally established in the first ten seconds of the show. He's a sheriff's son who sneaks onto people's roofs in the middle of the night bc they aren't answering his calls, who listens in on his dad's work conversations and is willing to fuck up a crime scene because he's so excited about getting to see a dead body. He doesn't care about laws. He doesn't even care about most basic manners (invasion of privacy much, with having Scott sniff Lydia to see if she liked him?). He's a dickhead, even to the people he cares about sometimes. But personality and morality aren't the same. Stiles' entire actual morality system is based around whatever he needs to do to keep the people he loves safe and happy. Lying to his dad so he doesn't get murdered by hunters? Totally fine. Telling Scott that it was "Jackson's own fault" that Scott attacked him with superstrength and dislocated his shoulder, so Scott doesn't feel like an asshole? That's just best friend duties! He will lie, steal, cheat, and he will kill to keep his loved ones safe (let's not forget this boy threw molotovs at Peter, knowing damn well what they would do to him). We can headcanon all we want about all the different people who are in this group of loved ones, but the list is canonically very short: Scott, his dad, and Lydia. Later on, like, past s3B? It includes Derek. Canonically. Stiles puts his life and the lives of others he cares about on the line while he lies to the matriarch of the Calavera hunter clan, to save Derek Hale. Derek is just canonically a part of that group now, and he fucking knows it bc Stiles is his anchor (that's canon too bb). End of Story, Sterek or no Sterek. It's why we get that insane number of lookbacks when Derek is dying before his evolution. Because Stiles is being forced to choose between two people who are BOTH in his ride-or-die group. He Cannot Pick between Scott and Derek, until Derek begs him to leave.

SO, yes, Stiles does fuckface things, and I don't always agree with what he does, but it is ACCURATE TO HIS CHARACTER. He is morally grey. He NEVER CLAIMS to be pure or good or just or righteous. Stiles knows who he is, and he stays true to himself. And I love him for that.

The same goes for a bunch of other characters! For Peter, who is strikingly similar to Stiles, in that family goes above literally everything. Screw the idea that he was following Derek around waiting for the chance to steal back the Alpha spark. That man put his life on the line (his second life, no less) to get the shit beaten out of him until Derek let him help save Derek's life Again and Again. Family Comes First.

Scott's morality is...confusing as fuck. I thought at first he was similar to Stiles, in that family came first, but...while he's protective of his mother, he also does a lot of stuff that puts her at risk without seeming to care/worry (like leaving Peter alone with her once Stiles hits their car, so he can chase Jackson) (or asking her to come to the high school when he's convinced there's a bomber in it)? Seriously, he's more protective over Allison, than his mother. It's very black and white the rest of the time. Very "this bad" "this good." And if you do "bad" then you are bad forever, while if you do "good" you are only good until you do "bad." The Betas were "good" until they asked for the bite, and then they were "Bad." Derek was "bad" when Scott met him and scared him, so after that, no matter how much "good" he did, he remained "bad." But only when it suits him. Allison is good even when she does bad, because he wants her to be good. Chris is good even though he's done mountains of bad, because of the minuscule amount of good that Scott has seen him do, because Scott wants him to be good. Even DEUCALION is good, despite the crazy CRAZY amount of bad he's done and despite having seen him do NO GOOD, just because Scott wants him to be good. Lying to those closest to you is bad, unless Scott is doing it, and then it's good, because he knows HE is good. Killing people is bad, unless Scott is doing it. Letting villains go is bad, unless Scott is doing it. Biting people is bad, unless Scott is doing it. Protecting family is good even if it requires killing or lying, unless it's not Scott doing it. Revenge for past slights is good, unless it's not SCOTT doing it. And you try to understand it! You try to say, okay, then he's morally grey, got it. He plays with the rules to suit his own morality, whatever. Except that Scott, the other characters, and THE SHOW ITSELF, are all telling you otherwise! They all say that Scott is morally pure. That he is good and righteous and lawful. That he always does the "right" thing, and that when he does "bad" things, it's justified and he had to. THE HEAVENS THEMSELVES say Scott is somehow better or more righteous than the other characters by MAKING HIM AN ALPHA OUT OF NOWHERE. (I'm talking abt canon here, not going into deaton conspiracy theories) It's like....Like in the hate mail response I did, where I pointed out that Every Single Thing people get angry at Derek for doing, Scott did too. Lying, killing (or at least attempting it), attacking innocents, losing his temper, keeping secrets, refusing to work with someone who could help, etc etc etc. Everything Derek has done that is morally "wrong," Scott has also done. And that's okay! Doing a bad thing doesn't make you a bad person, and even if it did, Scott is ALLOWED to be bad! GO FOR IT.

Except that he is sinless. It isn't that he learns from the bad things he does, it's that they aren't treated like bad things in the first place. Because Scott did it, and Scott always does the right thing.

Derek's behavior is reprehensible at times, but the show ADMITS that and frames it as bad. Frames it as him doing a bad thing when he scares Isaac or throws Peter or tells Erica who to date. And that's fine, because Derek is established as not being morally pure.

But SCOTT IS. And because they were so desperate to make him continue being "Pure" they didn't frame the things he did as wrong, or if they did, they absolved him of it immediately, using the exact same reasoning that works for Derek's situations, but this time Actually Accepting it.

He scares Stiles, well it's because he's scared. He throws Isaac, it's because he's upset. He attacks Jackson well it's because Jackson was being a dick. He orders Allison to date Matt, well he had a goal to accomplish. Every reason is treated like a fucking doctor's note that erases the bad things he does.

Being scared, or angry, or retaliating to someone being an asshole, or trying to protect himself, was NEVER a good enough reason for Derek to do ANYTHING "Bad." It was never an acceptable excuse.

IF IT WERE: If the show were making a statement about how fallable people are, how they do bad things, but they do them for a REASON. How people will do wild and terrible things out of fear, and how that doesn't make it less bad, but it makes it understandable, so don't demonize them out of nowhere. If that were the case, I would HAVE BEEN FINE WITH IT.

Scott is held to COMPLETELY different standards than everyone else in the show! And I DON'T mean that people held him to higher ones. They dropped that bar so fucking low. Anything was allowed, and any excuse was good enough.

He made out with a girl who was dating someone else, who his best friend was in love with? It's just the full moon, he's angsty about losing Allison. He ducttapes Liam to a bathtub and starts throwing random phrases at him that he hated Derek for saying to him? He's freaked out! He doesn't know what to do with a bitten wolf! It was an accident! He works with a mass murderer behind people's backs without telling them the whole story? Am I talking about Gerard or Deucalion? Who fucking knows. Either way, it's okay, because he was protecting his family. He plots to murder a cancer patient slowly and painfully by replacing meds that likely included painkillers with mountain ash, and the uses someone else's body to deliver the killing blow, and it's okay because he was just being smart! He was just working ten steps ahead! He was saving his mom and the whole town! Who cares if it DIDN"T WORK?

He walks into his ex-girlfriend's hotel room and scares the SHIT out of her while she's naked and alone in the shower? It was the wolfsbane. It doesn't matter that no one else's impulses included HARASSING someone. He lies to his girlfriend's face about her own life because he doesn't think it's important enough for her to know (who am I talking about, come on, take a guess, which one is it? Allison or Kira? Trick question: it's both). He was just being kind! He didn't want to worry her! He didn't want to make her feel bad! She didn't need to know!

I'm so far off track it's not even funny. My point was that Everything the other characters in the show are demonized for or framed as evil or bad or wrong for doing, Scott is shown to do and it's treated like at minimum a comedy, if not a Perfect Brilliant Strategic Move.

God, fucking hell. I mean, the PARALLELS you see in this show, between Scott and others. The scene of Alexander Argent going to the hotel after being bit? That bit where he pulls his shirt up in the mirror? It's a near PERFECT replica of Scott looking at his bite at Deaton's. They paralleled SCOTT MCCALL with AN ARGENT. Deaton has this whole line in S2 where he's bitching at Derek about "the person you should trust the most doesn't trust you at all" And then seasons later, we have Scott look his best friend in the eye and refuse to trust him, only to get upset later because Stiles doesn't want to work with him anymore and he "lost them." Scott goes running into Derek's house in S1 to accuse him of killing the bus driver, and when he can't get a real response, he EGGS HIM ON by accusing him of Murdering his SISTER, just to get Derek to react. Which is the EXACT same thing Kate did when she showed up and wanted Derek to lose his temper. Scott is CONSTANTLY paralleled with villains and assholes, and constantly does the things that others are persecuted for. But instead of feeling regret or learning something from it, instead of growing AT ALL. Those actions are treated as good. We are told they are righteous. And clever. That they are what heroes do. AND YES: There are parallels between Derek and Stiles' behaviors and villains/morally grey characters! Of course there are!

BUT THEY AREN'T SUPPOSED TO BE THE TRUE ALPHA MAIN CHARACTER. SCOTT IS SUPPOSED TO BE THE GOOD GUY. HE'S NOT SUPPOSED TO MIMIC/EMULATE THE VILLAINS, AND HE'S NOT SUPPOSED TO BE REWARDED WHEN HE DOES IT ANYWAY.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again; I understand the urge to think that the Teen Wolf writers did all of this on purpose. That they built Scott up as an unreliable narrator, so that we're forced to come to terms with a protagonist who isn't good, and we watch them fall into a villainous role while thinking all the while they are a hero. That all these parallels are intentional and the writers just couldn't Tell us what was going on bc they didn't have enough power.

And sometimes I play into it. I will lie to myself about Scott being the 'narrator' of the entire show, and that we're seeing it all through his eyes so of course things are biased and conflicting, just so I can actually Enjoy watching it.

But I think it's absolute bullshit that this was done on purpose. It wasn't. The parallels appeared because they Wanted Scott to do the badass things that they had all the villains doing, throwing people and being sneaky and clever, and stopping the bad guy, and they didn't want to deal with the fact that they were having him do bad things. So they just pretended he wasn't and refused to acknowledge that they'd already punished other people for doing the same exact shit, but somehow Scott was getting rewarded. They wanted Scott to be the hero, so they made him the hero, and screw everybody else.

[jazz-miester]

Lying is supposed to be easy. So why do you make it so hard?

Pairing: Optimus Prime X Reader

Song: weathers- c'est la vie

Warnings: Bit of angst. Cursing.

An: A character/story idea I may never write. Let me know what all of you think!

A cigarette hangs loosely from thier lips. Unlit. The lighter they had pulled out wove around thier fingers. Y/n's mind still undecided if they wanted it lit or not. Granted, it wasn't a normal cigarette. Herbal. Some sort of lavender and chamomile medley.

They had promised to quite long ago. But some habits die hard and it's easier to find an alternative than fall back on old vices.

Thier hands shook slightly as they finally brought the lighter to the cigarette. On hand curling protectively around the flame and the wind howled around then.

Rain fell heavily down to the earth. The first rain in Jasper Nevada since god knows when. They needed it. Desperate for it.

God's knew they missed it. Some old memory locked away in thier mind. Cobwebs dusted away from thier not to long ago childhood.

They were barely into thier adulthood. Some would say.

It doesn't matter.

Smoke spilled out from between thier lips. Curling around and drifting into the cool air.

Thunder roared from the dark clouds. A sounding trumpet for lighting to follow.

Y/n's old chevy rattled with it. Thier heater sputtering a few times before finally giving up. Soon blasting cool air instead. They cursed. Smacking the dashboard.

"Mother fucker." They hung thier hand out the window. The cigarette almost put out by the wind. "First the fucking tire then this." Y/n hisses through thier teeth. They smack the dashboard one more time. "Last time I let someone else work on you." They turn the truck off. The silence sudden and heavy broken only by the rumbling thunder and rain smacking against the trucks roof.

Y/n checks thier phone. It was six now. Two more hours before nightfall. The tow company said they be here four hours ago. They wonder if the company decided to stay because if the rain. Wait for it to pass. Maybe this wind knocked down a power pole or two.

Or maybe the company was just lazy.

Y/n's stomach growled and they glanced over at the take out in the worn seat next to them. Chicken teriyaki and rice. Should they eat now? Probably. Before it got cold.

They blew out another huff of smoke. The window frame was wet now. As well as part of thier leg. They smashed the end of the cigarette into the ashtray and rolled thier window up. The hand crank sticking momentarily before letting go with a squeak.

They began to eat. Still keeping an eye out for the tow truck in the rapidly dimming light.

Halfway through eating thier phone buzzed. Rattling across the dashboard and onto the floor. Cursing they swallowed thickly and sputtered. Clearing thier throat before answering.

"Hello?" The phone cracked in and out. Reception was spotty this far out if town.

"We..... Can't..... Unable." Thier phone screen lit up. They held it out in front of then. The screen cracked. Obscuring part of what they could see. They looked at the number on the phone. Then to the one on the crumpled piece of paper.

"You have to be shitting me." They tossed the styrofoam back into the seat. The plastic fork falled to the ground. It was the tow company.

The bastards. Couldn't have called sooner.

Fuck it. They'd walk home and tow it themselves in the morning. Before work.

Or at least they would have if it weren't for the rumbling semi heading thier way. It came to a stop next to them. Engine deep and rumbling. It was fake. They knew. Ment to imitate earth's vehicles.

Thier phone rang. An image flashed across the screen with the caller id. Optimus. He had looked all to peaceful in that field to not take a picture.

"Hey Big Guy." They chuckled.

"Y/n. Hello. Is everything alright?" Y/n snorted. Oh fucking peachy they were. First they were late for work. Got yelled at by thier boss for shit they didn't do. Had thier piece of shit phone stolen so they had to go fucking find it. Paid sixty bucks to get it back. Had some dickhead think they didn't know shit about vehicles so they tried to scam them.

And the list goes on.

They looked over at the semi as they spoke.

"I'm fine Prime." Optimus rocked on his wheels.

"Are you sure? I was unaware one could drive with a blown tire." Y/n scoffed. Brows shooting upwards with disbelief.

"You sarcastic-" They cut themselves off. "You here to make fun of me?" The truck rumbled.

"No. I'm here offer help." He paused. "You have been here for over six hours." How. Oh ya. Patrol. They forgot he frequently came through here to and from base.

"I. Ya. I could use the help." They hated admitting that. That they needed help. They knew they could manage and y/n always felt like they owed the person back.

Optimus pulled in front of their chevy. An unspoken "I'll tow you" hung in the air. He would. Optimus knew they would come back shortly to get their truck back. Might as well help so they don't try to do it in the dark.

They were shivering and slightly soaked when they finally got in the driver's seat. Optimus wordlessly turns the heater on. Angling the vents to point at them.

"Sorry for tracking water in." Y/n muttered. Doing their best to wipe off any excess water that got inside.

"There's no need for apologies." The semi pulled away from the side of the road and began to drive. Slightly clicking gears as he rumbles downwards. Rain splattered across the windshield. Wipers working overtime to keep it away. They new it was more for them than him.

His headlights were dim, they noticed. Barley lighting up the old gray road.

It was silent. Comfortable.

It was dark now. Even more so without the full moon. Heavy cloads still cloaking the sky.

"Are the kids home?" Y/n broke the silence.

"Yes. I had to drop Rafael off at home." That's right. Bumblebee has been busy on a scouting mission. He's supposed to be back tomorrow. Short. By cybertronian standards.

It's been almost a month for us.

There's was flashing in the distance. Orange hues erie in the heavy rain. They can make out more shapes the closer they get. A red blob turning into a car. Two small blurs turned out to be a couple.

Optimus stops next to them at their urging.

Y/n hope out immediately. The rain quickly soaking through their thin shirt.

"What seems to be the matter?" Y/n asks. A woman turns around. Hand on her obviously pregnant belly. "Well shit." They mutter.

"Our tire blew out on the way to Jasper." The woman brushes a few strands of soaked hair out of her face. "Me and my son can't seem to get the tire changed. We umm." They look over at their kid. Some tiny teen trying to pull the bolts off the best they could. The car wast quite high enough off the ground either.

"Do you want help?" They already began rolling their soaked sleeves up thier arm. A simple tattoo wove from thier wrist up to thier elbow. A memento from a close friend. The woman nodded vigorously.

"Yes please." Y/n points the woman towards Optimus. They hope he wouldn't mind.

"Please Ma'am. I don't want you catching cold." Her cheeks flush. "The kid can help if they want. But they can get out of the rain if they want." The kid grins at them, missing one or two front teeth.

"I can help!" Y/n chuckles and pulls the tire iron gently from thier hands.

"Well then. Let's get going." They popped the bolts off one by one. They themselves straining despite the fact that could easily toss tires like these around. Y/n lifted weights to get stronger and boxed to defend themselves. Thier muscles flexing beneath thier shirt a testament to that.

"God. Who stuck these fu-friggen things on." The kid laughed.

"My cousin." Well damn.

It took a few moments and a bashed finger later to change the tire. Y/n was thoroughly soaked by the time they finished. Practically drowning from the rain.

They helped the women down and out from Optimus. Both of them none the wiser to the alien next to them.

The two got into the car and drove off. Y/n watches as the car gets smaller and smaller until the rain completely obscures thier view.

They grab into the handle next to Optimus's door and hoists themselves up. Smacking thier boots to get off any mud or debris before getting inside.

"Well now I'm even more wet." Y/n snorts and peels thier shirt off. They had a tank top underneath. It sticks to thier skin uncomfortably.

Optimus hums. The deep sound rumbling in the cab. Y/n pats thier pockets fully intending to light another cigarette before remembering where they're at. More precisely, who, they are with.

Instead they pull out a stick of gum. The minty flavor almost overpowering.

Optimus hums again. A sign they've come to find, was of him thinking. A habit he never broke of even after becoming Optimus Prime. Perks of being his charge they guessed.

They never knew why he did that. Became thier guardian. Y/n was well enough an adult. Had a house, payed the bills. They never understood and didn't plan on it anytime soon. Optimus was Optimus and he does what he does. He was one of the few people they never second guess thier opinion.

They held a lot of respect for the old mech.

More so than a lot of people in thier life. They wondered if he knew that. He could tell them to leap off a cliff and they would. Trusting him to be there to catch them.

It took a lot to earn that trust. And they had given it to him. With shaking palms and to high walls.

'Here'. Their actions said. 'Here is the key. Open the door and you hurt me. Guard it. Please. Because I am unable to anymore.'

And Optimus did. Because Optimus is Optimus. A being to good for this world.

Y/n had a scar that reached from thier shoulder to the small of thier back. It would have killed them if Optimus didn't step in. They got the relic. Optimus got thier trust and friendship.

"You do that often." Y/n head jerks up from where it had been resting against the window. Startled from thier thought.

"Do what, Prime?" Optimus slowed down. Rolling to a general stop at the battered stop sign.

"Help others without question. Despite it often being inconvenient for you." Y/n pops thier gum. Thinking.

They never really thought about it. They just did what felt right.

"And?" They scratch at thier neck.

"Why?" A simple one word question. Might as well been a loaded gun. They knew exactly where he was taking this.

"Because I can. Because it's the right thing to do. Because I'd want someone to do it for my friends and family." Optimus rumbled his engine. Pulling off to the side of the road.

Son of a bitch. He's gonna make them do feelings now?

Last time it was from a simple, yet self deprecating joke. Last thing they will joke about around him again was being dumber than a box of rocks. Who knew the old guy could be so silently, and heavily caring without a single word.

"And what about you? Would you not like help as well?"

The rain lessened to a drizzle now. No way we're they gonna do this shit. Not again. Don't make them face things yet.

Y/n reaches to open the door.

Optimus locks it shut.

"Fucken hell man." They mutter. Not for the last time they began wishing for an actual cigarette.

"Hmm." They sunk down in the driver's seat uselessly pushing at the gas pedal urging for him to go on.

"You can ask. You do know this." Y/n chuckles.

"I did." They wave thier hand at the steering wheel. "I called the tow company. Not my fault they didn't call me till forever later." Optimus sinks down on his tires. If they don't wrap this up now and tell him what he wants to here they'll be here forever.

But he can tell when they're lying.

They both loath and like it.

They can be truthful to him. But sometimes it hurts. Because he makes them feel. He makes them know.

They're people to. And they deserve so much more that they give themselves.

Deserve more than the punishing pace they put themselves through.

"And no one else? What would you have done after?" Y/n shrugged thier shoulders.

"Walked home and make tomorrow me deal with it. They're a bitch in the morning but they get shit done."

Shit.

"And you would call no one? Again?" They shake their head.

"It's just a tow Optimus. Not me bleeding the fuck out." They feel bad. A sour taste in thier mouth as they bite their answer out.

"You where feverish and unable to walk last time." His voice was low. Almost sad. He was upset without showing it.

He cares. Cares so much.

He cares enough about me for the both of us.

"It's fine."

"No."

"I.." I shiver. The heater turns on. "Lying 'spose to be easy. Why do you make it so fucking hard." Optimus rumbles.

"Because you care." He's right.

"And so do I. I am here. Always. No matter what. No matter how trivial you think it is Y/n. I am here. And, as you like to say, I am stuck to your side whether you like it or not." He begins to drive. His words stick to me.

"I know. It's hard." Its hard when you don't think you deserve it. Any of it.

I lay my hand on the center of the steering wheel.

"I know. I know. But I will tell you again and again. Until you truly believe it y/n."

I was lost before him.

God's I hate that he makes me feel. Feel more than I ever have. But he got me to quite one bad habit. And he's working on the other.

[tsarisfanfiction]

A Prickly Situation

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Angst Characters: Scott, Alan

Alan was terrified, but at least he was unhurt.  Scott would do everything in his power to keep the latter fact that way.

Next up for @whumptober-archive with day 4 “Trust Fall”, somehow using all three prompts: “Do you trust me?”, taken hostage, and pushed.​  Will this get a follow up?  Who knows - it depends on the rest of the month’s prompts.

The cliff edge was right behind his heels; as his weight shifted, pebbles wriggled loose and tumbled down, landing in a rustle of disturbed foliage.  Scott wasn’t sure how far down it was, or what was at the bottom, and he wasn’t particularly interested in finding out, either.

Alan was near tears. Scott couldn’t blame him; a gun to the temple was terrifying, and they’d both heard the click of the safety coming off when Scott hadn’t complied with the demands instantaneously enough for the owner’s liking.

If it was just him, he’d probably have considered fighting back, but he hadn’t come out alone, and as he looked into the too-bright eyes of his terrified youngest brother he regretted the decision to bring him out as well.  Alan was far too young to be exposed to this sort of situation, far too young to be used as a hostage to force compliance.

Scott shivered, and it wasn’t just fear for his brother.  Beside him, folded up with military precision, sat his flight suit, with the rest of his gear stacked up neatly on top.  Alan’s was in a scruffier pile, partially due to his personality, and partially due to the gun kissing his skin the entire time.

Even still wearing the undershirt and shorts, the wind was cold.  Beneath his bare feet, the cliff edge crumbled a little more.

“Thank you for your co-operation.”  The man was alone, but alone with a gun still put the power in his hands, especially when he had it pointed straight at Scott’s youngest brother and a pincer grip on the teenager’s shoulder to hold him in place.  Despite his terror, Alan was smart enough to know to stay still rather than try and escape, although having been instructed to step back to the cliff edge, Scott was concerned about their survival chances regardless.

Certainly he was looking at an imminent drop unless a miracle occurred.

“Now that I have what I need,” the man continued, finger threateningly perched on the pistol’s trigger, “I don’t need you.”

Scott’s heart leapt up into his mouth and he frantically scrambled for a solution, a way to save Alan at the least even as he met wide blue eyes.  Help me, they begged, moisture beading and threatening to overflow. Scotty, I’m scared.

At the end of the day, Alan was still a child.  Scott knew that, even when Alan was wearing IR Blue with his signature red baldric. He couldn’t forget that his youngest brother, no matter the feats he pulled off as part of International Rescue, shouldn’t be worrying about anything more important than his homework, not facing life and death situations almost daily.  He certainly shouldn’t be facing his own death.

“Don’t-” he started, breathless and desperate.  “Not him. He’s just a child, please-”

A bark of laughter cut him off and his eyes tore themselves from Alan to look at the man.  There was a crazed grin on his face, and something calculatingly vicious in his eyes.

“How easy it is to get the Commander of International Rescue to beg,” he drawled.  “Move.”  The word was aimed at Alan, alongside a kick to the back of his legs that had him stumbling forwards a pace, held up only by the vice-like grip on his shoulder and the gun still pressed to his head.

Another step and he’d be in Scott’s reach.  The metaphorical chasm that yawned between them felt far more dangerous than the literal one beneath Scott’s bare heels.

“If you don’t want him to die,” the man continued.  “Then you’d better think fast, Commander.”

The hand left Alan’s shoulder, then thrust into his back, sending him staggering him forwards, towards the cliff edge.  A foot joined the effort, and Alan’s arms pinwheeled in a vain attempt to keep his balance.

He wasn’t going to make it.

Scott was moving before his thoughts caught up, the ground falling away beneath his feet as he threw himself between Alan and the cliff edge.  The action left him off-balance, too.

Alan slammed into him and then they were both falling.

It wasn’t a long drop, Scott discovered as his back crashed into something leafy, crushing it beneath his body as he came to a stop that stole the breath from his lungs.  Safely encased in his arms, Alan was tucked up against his body, shielded from the impact as best Scott could manage.

For a brief moment, it felt like they’d escaped unharmed.

Then his nerves set on fire.

Every inch of exposed skin burned, including where his undershirt appeared to have ridden up his back slightly at the contact, and a gasp erupted from Scott’s throat unbidden.

“Scott?” At Alan’s small, scared, voice, he tightened his grip further, pinning him in place.  “Scott, are you okay?”  He wrenched open eyes he didn’t recall closing to see a mop of blond hair rising from where it’d been tucked under his chin.  Stray strands tickled his lips as Alan looked up at him with big, blue eyes.

He couldn’t say he was fine, not when his skin was crawling like a colony of fire ants had decided to hold a festival on it and his lungs were constricted by the resultant pain combined with the brother on top of him.  He wasn’t sure he could say anything at all, but he had to try.

The first thing out of his mouth was a hiss of pain.  “What,” he started, gasping the word more than saying it and watching Alan’s already wide eyes widen further, “did… did I, land on?”

It had to be some sort of aggressive foliage to hit his entire body at once; an upset animal bite would have a specific epicentre, and it was definitely an external cause, not an injury – the same foliage that was objecting severely to his presence had cushioned his fall enough that he didn’t think he’d seriously injured anything, although there would definitely be several bruises.

“Huh?”  Alan moved, shifting his weight and inadvertently pressing parts of Scott’s body further into the plant below.  He swallowed back the resultant hisses.  “Oh.”  He started wriggling to get up and Scott pinned him down as firmly as he could as his biceps started trembling from the prickle of fire assaulting them from below.  “Uh, Scott, it’s a giant nettle patch.”

Well that explained the fiery sensation crawling across his skin.

Alan tried to escape again, but Scott grit his teeth and held on.

“Scott, let me up!” his brother protested.  “We have to get out of here.”  

He couldn’t argue with that, but he could and would argue at Alan wandering through a field of nettles in bare feet and shorts.

“Stay still,” he grunted.

“But, Scott-”

“No point-” he broke off with a gasp, chest heaving, “-both of us, ah, getting stung.”

“I don’t think that’s avoidable,” Alan mumbled.  “There’s a lot of nettles.”

Scott didn’t care how many nettles there were; he’d failed to protect Alan from the man with the gun, he wasn’t going to let him get hurt by nettles, of all things, as well.

“Shift your… weight,” he instructed with another gasp.  “On my stomach.”

“Are you sure?” Alan still sounded uncertain, but Scott was sure he could hear a touch of relief underneath it. “Can you carry me with all those stings? You don’t look too hot.”

“Do you… trust me?” Scott pressed with a wheeze, knowing that the answer had to be yes, or he might just break.

“Of course I do!”  The response was lightning-fast and soothed a spike of anxiety before it could take hold, even if it couldn’t sooth the prickling burn of nettle stings as they sank deeper into his skin.  Scott had been stung before, although never on this level, and knew that it’d be days before his body recovered from this torture.

The affirmation of his trust, however, seemed to be the catalyst Alan needed to get moving, shimmying off of Scott’s chest to coil up on his gut.  The air squeezed out of his stomach was alleviated by the sudden ability to get air into his lungs, and Scott drew in several deep breaths before approaching the challenge of moving.

His palms shrieked as he sacrificed them to the nettles for leverage, unable to use just his abs to sit up while Alan was sitting on them.  At the same time he drew his knees up, blocking Alan from sliding too far down, and as soon as he was sat vaguely upright he shuffled his hands around until only one was needed to keep him semi-vertical.  The other wrapped back around the back of Alan’s knees, holding him in place like a much younger child as he gasped an instruction for Alan to hold onto him.

Thin, child’s arms wrapped around his neck, uncomfortably tight but Scott wasn’t going to tell him to let go.

Instead, he groaned with dread before finding all the strength left that could be mustered and thrusting his torso up and forwards to force himself to his feet.

He almost overbalanced entirely and ended up flat on his face, as though half his body was annoyed at missing out on the stings, but thankfully a couple of staggers and a second hand wrapping tightly around Alan kept him upright.

His back wasn’t appeased, despite no longer being in direct contact with the nettles, and none of the rest of his body was, either.  The soles of his feet screamed as they were roped into the punishment of crushing stinging nettles with every step, but Scott was good at working through pain and kept staggering forwards, taking the shortest looking path out of the patch.

Alan’s hold on him tightened as he swayed, although whether it was reassurance or fear, Scott didn’t like to guess.

(It was probably fear, his mind hissed anyway.)

The burn wasn’t fading even though his skin – tormented and abused feet aside – was no longer in contact with the cause.  How many minor barbs, hairs, whatever nettles used to sting, were buried in him he tried not to think about.  The answer was too many, enough that his body was shaking, limbs supporting his and Alan’s weights trembling, and the nettle patch could likely be justifiably referred to as a nettle forest based on its footprint.

Too big, too agonising, too everything.  He staggered more than he walked, more than once his vision blurring or even whiting out entirely, but they had to get clear before he could risk setting Alan down. He didn’t want to set Alan down at all.

His body disagreed, despite his best efforts to the contrary.  Adrenaline, stubbornness, and anything else he could use to force the dregs of his body to forge through the prickling, rushing, fire of thousands of nettle stings, could only get him beyond the border of the nettle patch by one, single, step.

Knees hit the ground hard, one hitting something hard and sharp that was probably a stone and splitting open to let liquid run down into the ground below, as though it really needed any more feeding.  He barely released Alan in time, little brother scrambling backwards on his palms with blue eyes just as wide as they’d been throughout the entire experience as Scott crashed down onto his front.

“Scott!”

They were clear of the nettles. Alan was clear of the nettles.  Scott had no idea how they were going to get any further; their comms were gone, just like the rest of their gear.  He couldn’t even summon Thunderbird One to pick them up, let alone call John for help.

He could do nothing except lay in a somewhat crumpled heap, vaguely grateful that his front wasn’t also being assaulted with nettles as Alan fussed worriedly, and hope that their bad luck was over for the day.

[lettheladylead]

The Golden Heir Chapter 7 - Family [Ch1] [Ch2] [Ch3] [Ch4] [Ch5] [Ch6] [Ch8]

Goldie didn’t know what to do. She thought Scrooge would’ve found a way out of this nonsense by now!

Watching Black Heron perish hadn’t been the treat she always imagined it would be. It’d been terrifying, instead, as Goldie watched the villain disappear into a bright red light. Next it could be her. It could be Twenty-Two or Della or Donald, who were kneeling next to her and looking just as helpless and scared.

But instead of finding a loophole or taking down Bradford in a surprisingly suave swoop, Scrooge was just mumbling over this paperwork and trying to buy time. Goldie knew stalling when she saw it and just hoped that meant Scrooge had some sort of back-up plan in the works.

“You need some incentive!” Bradford said angrily after sending a blast of energy towards Scrooge. “Perhaps the life of your most trusted ally?”

Goldie breathed a sigh of relief, happy to know that wasn’t anywhere near her role in Scrooge’s life. She did, however, immediately fear for Donald, and struggled a bit against her chains as did Beakley and Della.

He skulked over to Donald and picked him up like he was a toy, holding him over the vortex without hesitation.

“Donald!” Scrooge screamed as Donald cried and shook in fear.

Goldie stared at the scene before her and felt her eyes start to water. She knew, realistically, this wasn’t her fault. Bradford’s beef with Scrooge had nothing (mostly nothing?) to do with her. But she led them to Dickie. If she had to guess, they probably used Dickie to get that Papyrus. If she’d just let Black Heron kill her, they wouldn’t have been able to get it.

“What will it be, Scrooge? Adventure? Or your family?”

She looked down at Scrooge. He was going to find a way out of this, wasn’t he?

“You have til the count of five. One…”

“Alright, I’ll do it.”

Goldie looked stunned. She’d never seen him give up so quickly. She’d never seen him give up at all before...except when it came to her. Surely this had to be part of his plan...he couldn’t give up adventuring. That was everything to him.

“No, don’t! Find a way out!” Donald screamed, still struggling in Bradford’s grasp. “You can beat him!”

“...it’s not worth the risk, lad,” Scrooge said softly, taking out a pen.

Goldie watched in awed silence as Scrooge signed the Papyrus. Adventure was such a vague term. If he couldn’t go on any kinds of adventure - nothing magical or mystical or worldly or secret...then she didn’t know where she stood. She could still go wherever she wanted, but it wasn’t worth it without him.

No one made a sound as Scrooge was surrounded by magical yellow light and he floated up into the air. He gasped as the Papyrus’ chains wrapped themselves around him and slowly forced him back to the ground. Goldie and the others just watched in miserable realization...the bad guy had won.

“I did it!” Bradford said happily. “The great Scrooge McDuck, now only a poor old man!”

Scrooge had never looked so defeated. Goldie felt her heart break.

“Normally I wouldn’t indulge in petty villainy, but since this is a special occasion…”

Bradford dropped Donald towards the vortex, laughing evilly as the duck tumbled towards oblivion, while Scrooge and Della screamed out in shock and pain. Goldie felt numb as she watched a duck she’d known for so long - and known as one of the kindest, genuinely well meaning people she’d ever met - head for an untimely death.

“Ow!”

“...ow?”

“Ow?”

Goldie blinked and leaned over the edge to see the vortex had disappeared and Donald had managed to get free of his chains. She wanted to revel in the joy of seeing one of her favorites of the McDuck family still alive, but as the red triplet’s voice reached her ears, Bradford was already back on his plan.

“No! No more adventures!” he screamed down at the kid - and she wondered who else was down there with him - before diving past the three ducks still chained on the ledge and drawing his sword with intention clear.

Scrooge screamed out and Goldie closed her eyes. She couldn’t save him this time. He was going to die and all she could do was sit there and listen.

Instead, she heard the clang of metal against metal.

“Get away from my grandpa!”

Goldie’s eyes widened and she struggled against her chains, shuffling her legs to move closer to the stairs so she could see what the hell was happening. Beakley and Della followed suit, clearly curious as to what was going on.

“Wait, what?!”

She looked down and saw exactly what she feared: Dickie was not just in danger, and not just with Scrooge, but she was holding a broken cane up to a giant magical sword wielded by a homicidal maniac. That was the opposite of the safe, danger-free lifestyle she’d tried to give her.

Webby and Dewey immediately flew down and kicked Bradford in the face, giving Dickie time to get away from him and rush towards Scrooge.

“You need to get out of here!” Dickie shouted, tugging on his arm.

Scrooge just struggled against the magical chains that disappeared and reappeared over and over again. “I can’t!”

As Louie ran around to grab the contract off the ground, Bradford gave chase and Dickie stayed with Scrooge to keep trying to get him to move. She watched helplessly as the kids ran for their lives and Gyro, Gandra, and Ludwig got blasted by a painful-looking blast of energy.

As Bradford transformed, Goldie, Della, and Beakley managed to wrangle their way out of their chains and the two McDuck Manor residents immediately rushed towards the villain, ready to fight for their lives. Goldie, on the other hand, tossed her chains to the side and rushed towards Dickie, who was visibly shaking in fear while still trying to stay strong for Scrooge.

“Lass, you need to get out of here,” Scrooge said to her sternly.

Dickie shook her head and sobbed. “But I just...I just learned about you now, I can’t lose you already!”

Scrooge looked both confused and sad at the strangely familiar teenager crying over him and wished he could reach out and comfort her somehow. As he opened his beak to say something, he was cut off by a voice he hadn’t heard in weeks.

“Dickie!” Goldie shouted, suddenly grabbing the girl by her wrist. “You need to get away from here! Come on!”

The teen didn’t fight as Goldie pulled her away, running in the opposite direction of Bradford’s fighting. Goldie glanced back at Scrooge with a sad, guilty expression, and Scrooge stared back incredulously. “Goldie?!”

As they ran away from the fight, Bradford flew over Scrooge and the kids and started powering up the sword for one final, deadly attack. Dickie pulled her arm out of Goldie’s grasp and stood her ground. “We can’t run away!”

“Yes, we can, they’ll be fine!” Goldie shouted, trying to grab her granddaughter’s arm again. “They’re the McDucks! They can take care of themselves!”

“But...I’m a McDuck, too!” Dickie said angrily, taking a step back.

Goldie stared at her sadly, then looked behind her to see Donald protecting Scrooge with a piece of the vortex chamber that fell apart. She looked back at Dickie and gave her a small smile. “...yeah, you are. And no kid of Scrooge’s is gonna run away from a fight, huh?”

Dickie smiled and reached out a hand, which Goldie grabbed with only a smidge of hesitation. They ran towards the rest of the family and joined them in holding up the one thing protecting Scrooge from death.

Goldie didn’t think about how it felt to be working alongside the family she’d known and avoided for so many years. She didn’t want to think about how long she’d kept Dickie from this group of people who would do absolutely anything for the people they considered family. How Goldie had never been a part of that before, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be a part of it now.

Louie and Huey ran up to join them and huddled over the contract.

“The only way to break the Papyrus’ spell...is to find a contradiction on the Papyrus!”

“This contract’s air-tight! Scrooge only gets his family if he gives up adventure!”

The four kids who’d spent the last few years together echoed a simultaneous DING! before Huey took the lead again.

“Bradford! Your contract is flawed!”

The buzzard stopped in his attack. “What? Impossible!”

The shield went down and Goldie backed away, feeling the confidence radiating from Scrooge’s kids. They’d won and he was going to be alright...and she didn’t need to be there any longer.

“I worked on that contract for thirty years! Went over it with the finest tooth combs!”

Goldie took another look at Dickie’s back before turning to make her usual silent escape.

“According to this, Scrooge can be with his family as long as he doesn’t adventure!”

Completely by accident, she lifted her head and made eye contact with Scrooge, who was cycling between hopeful and desperate and tired and confused. She couldn’t look away from him. Her heart pounded in her chest like it never had before.

“But family is the greatest adventure of all!” Huey shouted.

“That’s...the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. There’s no way that-”

Goldie turned back towards the rest of the family and Bradford, her feet refusing to move, and witnessed the Papyrus float into the air and disintegrate into nothing.

Bradford screeched in agony and reached out for the pieces of the contract, dropping the sword and sending one final blast towards the family. Goldie didn’t even have time to react as she realized the blast was headed right towards Dickie and Webbigail.

Scrooge, on the other hand, finally broke free of his magical chains and rushed towards the girls, tackling them both to the ground just as the blast singed the top of his hat.

Goldie breathed a sigh of relief as Scrooge and the girls nodded at each other before getting up to enjoy Bradford’s angry screams.

“I will not lose to Scrooge!”

“You didn’t lose to me,” Scrooge said with a confident smirk. “You lost to my family!”

“All of them.”

Goldie turned around to see a variety of people all walking up to stand behind Scrooge both physically and emotionally. She looked at him and felt an unfamiliar sense of pride mixed with her usual complicated feelings of love and adoration. He looked good in that moment. Strong and sincere. She knew she’d softened up quite a bit after spending time with Sharpie, but seeing Scrooge and his family standing tall together was making her heart do backflips.

Dickie walked over to Goldie and grabbed her hand, smiling softly. “Thanks for staying, Granny.”

Goldie rolled her eyes and scoffed, ignoring the conversation between Bradford and some familiar faces in Scrooge’s life and choosing to focus on how nice it felt to be with people she loved. Maybe she could stand to do it more often.

They both looked up to see Scrooge talking to Webby, who proceeded to hug him tight and then point directly at the two blondes. He looked back down at the girl he’d known for so long - his clone, apparently, which was giving him all sorts of confusing feelings - and then back up at the girl he’d never met before.

Goldie felt an urge to get away before this confrontation that she never wanted to have, but Dickie held tightly onto her hand and wouldn’t let go. Scrooge walked over to them and smiled.

“...grandpa?”

Dickie smiled awkwardly and let go of Goldie’s hand to wrap her arms around herself. “...yeah, um...my name’s Dickie. It’s nice to meet you!”

He looked over at Goldie who was avoiding his eyes, but when she felt his hand wrap around two of her fingers and tug her a bit closer to him, she couldn’t keep herself from him. Too much had happened for her to just walk away...she had to make it right.

“...surprise?” she said with a small smile.

Scrooge breathed out a short laugh and pulled both of them into a big hug. Dickie hugged back without hesitation, but Goldie’s face turned red and she stuffed her face into his shoulder to avoid looking at anyone else. She was fine with PDA but only when she was the one initiating it. The loved feeling he was giving her was overwhelming.

She looked up to see Louie and Webby and Della and Donald giving her similarly smirky smiles and Goldie sighed before finally wrapping her free arm around Scrooge’s back and holding him close. She loved him so, so much and was so happy he was safe. But there was no way she’d say something that sappy, so maybe a hug would be enough.

He finally pulled away from them and smiled happily, one of his hands still intertwined with Goldie’s. “Come back to the manor. Both of you,” Scrooge said.

Goldie looked down at their hands and then up at Dickie, who was clapping her hands in excitement. Dickie cheered, “I’ve always wanted to see the inside of that place! It looks awesome!”

The older woman sighed, but she couldn’t pretend to be annoyed. “...alright. Sure.”

Scrooge smiled brightly and leaned forward, capturing Goldie’s beak in a sudden kiss that it made her cheeks light up in embarrassment. He pulled away as fast as he started, but gave her a look that made her think going back to the manor would be the best decision of her life.

He let go of Goldie’s hand and looked back at the rest of his family. “We do need to talk, Goldie Girl. But...it’s been a long day.”

“You have no idea how long of a day it’s been,” Goldie mumbled, thinking back to her weeks of imprisonment.

“So we’ll talk tomorrow,” he said softly. “And...Dickie?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s nice to meet you, too.”

[darkeninganon]

Heyo! Back at it again with Ghost Dream (Gream). He has a little weirdness happen in this chapter, mostly because my brain just yeeted off to Pluto. I don’t think I need any Trigger warnings, I mean... Tommy gets a little shaken up emotionally, but beyond that, this is a pretty safe chapter.

Gream smiled, setting up the final blocks to complete the diorama on the table. It had taken many days, but finally Gream had completed it, with the help of Tubbo, Ranboo, and Tommy. It was an exact replica of the server. Well, with a few changes. Some places had no walls, and the building in place of the prison was nothing more than an obsidian box surrounded by red and orange string. There were also the dolls, almost exact replicas of the people of the SMP.

Almost.

Tomothy had a blue sweater on, instead of whatever the real Tommy was wearing. William was grey-skinned, had no white streak, and was wearing a yellow sweater. Prezbo was wearing a classy suit, reflecting his position of power. Lethe was wearing a cloak and bandages over his eyes. Gream even made one like himself, naming it "Nightmare", it lacked a mask though. He was not about to try and figure out how to make a doll-sized mask. There were so many more as well: A centaur-like creature named "The Warden" sat on top of the prison box, a tall cloaked figure standing in a sandy area along with many other smaller ones, including a fox man; most notably was a figure in a bloody suit with crooked eyes, a pink scar slashing vertically through one, a beanie, a gold tooth, and a square smile. "Fangs", "Raev", "Sir"....

Gream shook his head, fear and dread creeping up his spine and making his stomach roll. He sighed, setting the dolls down after inspecting them. Raev was his favorite in the group; Gream had given him bright orange hair and a smile, plus a cute green-black suit. It clashed with the hair and fur, but Gream didn't mind, it was kind of cute in a way.

Gream continued to just stare at the little scene, sitting cross-legged as he took it all in. All of these characters were related, their stories tied together in some way. Gream reached over, pulling Nightmare from the little brick house he stood on and placing the doll in the cell The Warden stood on. That was where Nightmare belonged.

Gream spun to look at the door as the floor creaked, Tommy looming in the doorway, staring at the ghost.

"Hey there. Your table is finally done?" The teen asked, stepping into the room and over to the table. He wouldn't deny, it made him nervous; it was a replica of the SMP with New L'Manburg, the oldest version of the Community House, and the maximum security cell of the prison, plus Snowchester and Las Nevadas. It was like the server had been spliced between several time periods. "Looks good."

Gream looked back at the table, nodding. "Thanks. I also made the dolls." Gream motioned to them. He noticed Tommy tense, specifically when looking at the one in the prison. "That's Nightmare. He belongs in jail."

Tommy knew Dream was... quiet, to put it lightly, but he had never seen Gream do the same. "Yeah, and why's that?" he asked, sitting next to the ghost.

"He did a lot of bad things." Gream grabbed the doll, pulling it from the "jail" to look at it more.

"Well... sometimes people do bad things for a good reason-"

"That doesn't make it okay. Nightmare did a lot of bad things. He wanted to have a family... He wanted Tomothy to be his little brother, but Tomothy chose William, and William was a megalomaniacle dick to everyone, even Nightmare. But then William died and things got better." Gream placed Nightmare back in the cell. "But... William managed to convince Tomothy that Nightmare was evil, and Nightmare saw people drifting apart because he gave Prezbo a test, and Prezbo failed it." He grabbed the two dolls, holding them close. He then placed Prezbo back in the town he had built, placing Tomothy in a bare plains-like area with wooden fort-like walls around him. "Prezbo kicked Tomothy out of their home because Nightmare got mad and threatened the town. Then, Nightmare tried to... twist? Corrupt? No, neither of those words work..."

Tommy's breath hitched, and it took a moment for him to speak; "Manipulate?" His voice pitched up. Fuck, he really had to get that under control. It was such a tell.

Gream looked to Tommy, nodding solemnly. "Yeah. Nightmare tried to manipulate Tomothy into liking him. Like William had done when alive. Instead, Tomothy just hated him more." Gream picked up another doll, rolling it around. "Then, Nightmare asked for Lethe's help. A favor. Lethe needed to protect the server, but he had to forget everything unless there was actual danger. A True threat. They cast some... spell or something, and Lethe forgot." Gream placed the doll in the area that looked like Snowchester, and now Tommy could see who it looked like: Ranboo. "there is a way to reverse it, but... I don't know if Lethe knows it."

Tommy watched, listened. It was so obvious who was meant to be who. It was like Gream... Wait... "Hey, so... you said Nightmare wanted a family, right?"

"Yeah."

"So... he made everyone think he was evil... and now he's in jail, yeah?"

"That's right. Mostly. He is in jail."

"Well... did... I mean, how did he get in there?"

Tommy watched as Gream seemed to think, staying silent and still before grabbing "Nightmare" from his cell. "Well... everyone teamed up against him. But... even though he'd never see anyone again, he was happy."

"Why?"

"Because, they were finally a family." Gream placed the little doll back in the cell. His voice was soft, wistful.

Tommy nodded. "Pardon me." He stood and left, Gream nodding to show he had heard. Tommy barely made it to the stairs, clinging to the railing as he finally broke. Gream was... He wasn't just playing out his memories, he was sharing what he felt and his thoughts at the time. Dream was... Jealous? No, that didn't excuse his actions, at all! He was still worse than... But... No, he wasn't. Dream was just more physical, less mental.

Tommy took out his communicator, sending a message to Tubbo and Ranboo: We need to talk. Meet me at Snowchester. Bring the others Ranboo. Tommy grit his teeth. He couldn't let Wilbur near Gream. Wilbur would see Gream as an easy mark, and likely a way into Las Nevadas. Sure, seeing Dream's version of everyone on the SMP was unnerving, but it was even more unnerving that he has so perfectly replicated Quackity and Las Nevadas. Quackity who was likely the reason Gream even existed in the first place, and also someplace Dream had never seen. Gream probably didn't even know he had done that.

Tommy swung open the front door, hoping to meet the others right at the tunnel; nearly smacking right into Wilbur. Fuck.

"Tommy! There you are! Now, look, I know me and Quackity were a bit intense-"

"Not now Wilbur."

"Okay, but hear me out! We need so much more stone, and more importantly, we need to team up with-"

"I have more important things to worry about here."

"It'll just take a moment! We team up with Tubbo and Ranboo and let them expand into our land right by Las Nevadas, and-"

"I'll talk to you about it later, alright?"

"Alright, but real quick, We also need to come up with a plan to get Dream out of Prison-" Tommy tensed, unseen by Wilbur; "Because, you know, he has that book that brought me back. God, imagine how useful that'll be! No more death ever! We can fight for eternity and no one can stop-"

Wilbur's head was snapped to the side. Tommy had punched him. "He's not a fucking tool you can just lock up once you're done using him! What the fuck man?!" Wilbur groaned, rubbing his jaw as he slowly turned to look at Tommy, clearly wanting to say something, but too shocked to do so. "You will... never get the revive book, or the power it holds... Dream is... I hope Sam kills you again." Tommy turned away from Wilbur, storming over to the tunnel. He knew Wilbur was following silently behind, confused and desperate to say something, to get to the bottom of why Tommy just punched him.

Tommy stood by the tunnel, furious. Sure, Dream was a dick, and everything would have been solved if Dream had just talked to Tommy, but at the same time... Asking Gream more about Nightmare would shed some light. But he needed everyone else to show up first, to see what Gream was doing. Tommy tapped his foot, staring at the sky as they waited for everyone else.

Ranboo burst from the tunnel, trident in hand, panicked expression, netherite on. "What's going on?!" Someone crashed into the poor half enderman, causing him to make that distinct noise of an enderman in pain as they crashed to the ground.

"Shit! Sorry-" Phil couldn't complete his apology as the rest on the Syndicate tumbled out of the hyper tunnel, crashing into each other.

Tommy snorted, trying his hardest not to laugh as the four people untangled themselves. Ah yes, the most fearsome group on the server, couldn't navigate a hyper tunnel. Tommy lost it as Tubbo came speeding out of the tunnel with a scream, crashing into his platonic husband and causing Ranboo to let out another pained enderman noise. Something about Ranboo yelling like an enderman was just so funny to Tommy, surely he was cursing in the language of the End.

"What did you want to talk to us about, Tommy?" Niki cut in, her usually calm voice cold, snapping Tommy out of his laughing fit.

"Right, uh... Let’s walk and talk, yeah? It's a little tough to explain." Tommy lead the group to the mansion, casting a quick glare at Wilbur. "So, you all know about Gream, yeah? Of course you do, anyways, he was building and working on a table to play games with when it comes to spending time with Big Mike, since neither are really allowed to leave due to safety." Tommy glanced back, making sure everyone was following along; Techno and Wilbur looked completely lost, while Niki looked confused but was clearly listening. "So, the thing about this table, more importantly the dolls he made for the table, is that they're... well... This is going to sound really weird, but it’s everyone and everywhere on the server. You’ll see." Tommy pointed to the door, and everyone crowded around to peer into the room.

Gream sat by the table, looming over it. Even with the cursed mask on, it was clear he was concentrating hard on something. The table and dolls had his full attention. Tommy motioned for everyone to linger back, hiding just outside the door-frame; before he walked in, he let out a quiet cough to not startle Gream. The ghost looked up at the noise, spotting Tommy and nodding at the teen.

"Hey Gream. I... actually had a question for you about that uh... Nightmare character." Tommy carefully walked up to the table, pulling the doll from the cell.

"Well, ask then."

Tommy smiled nervously, fidgeting with the toy. "Well... You said he did bad things because he was angry... jealous, actually. Um, why didn't he just talk it out?" It was such a huge risk, and for all Tommy knew, this could make Gream angry and have the ghost snap like he did back at his house.

Gream was silent, perking up as if thinking about something. Finally, he sighed. "Nightmare... Nightmare can't figure out his emotions... and he doesn't like talking about them... Someone... Hurt him once, someone he loved. It’s something I understand, but... you prefer talking about things, right?"

Tommy was quiet, frozen. "What?"

"I..." Gream pulled on the edges of his mask, a puddle of acid began to form under him. "Ever since the incident with Jack and Puffy I... Tommy, you're not telling me the truth, are you? No one is!"

Tommy flinched. He could hear netherite armor being thrown on behind him, but he took a breath, relaxing as he placed the doll back in the cell. "You're right. I haven't been honest. But-" Tommy held his hand up as Gream glared at him; "But I have my reasons. Nightmare... He did bad things for a good reason... He knew he'd go into jail for it, didn't he?"

Gream was silent, thinking again before nodding.

"That's why he asked Lethe for a favor. Well... People do bad things for good reasons all the time. I'm... withholding information from you for some very good reasons. It's not just for your safety, it's also for me. The things I'm keeping from you... they're things I don't like talking about, ever." Tommy sighed, running a hand through his hair. It sucked having to try to explain it, but now... Now they'll get to see things from Dream's view... something that no one was interested in before-

"Dream died?!"

Tommy cringed as he was reminded that Wilbur was there. "Yes, Dream died. Congradu-"

Wilbur shoved Tommy out of the way, grabbing Gream's hand and shaking it vigorously. "It's amazing to meet you! You and I were such- Oh man, we had so much fun together! I was... What was the word again? Oh yeah! I was your vassal! You helped me blow-"

Tommy shoved Wilbur away. "Alright, enough! Leave the poor guy alone!" Tommy stood between Wilbur and the ghost, Gream didn't need to know that he helped destroy L’Manburg or was a traitor or anything like that. Wait... Tommy shook his head. Dream was never really on their side.

"You... I don't like you."

"I'm.... What? What do you-"

"You're a megalomaniac aren't you?" Gream crossed his arms, glaring at Wilbur from behind his mask. "You... You were... Why do I hate you?" Gream turned away, pacing around until he looked to the table. He grabbed Nightmare and William, setting them up along with Tomothy on a hill. He stared at them, gently fiddling with Nightmare as he stayed quiet.

Wilbur went to go say something, but Tommy stopped him, staring intently at the ghost.

"You could have been a good leader... But I don't want to be a good leader. I hate you so much, I'm going to be worse than ram man... I will tear this place apart because I hate you... Tomothy gave up everything and you gave up nothing, you are going to get him killed..."

Gream removed Tomothy, setting him up with Prezbo on top of an obsidian wall. "Can't we all just be a family... No, you're the bad guy... but why?" Gream stopped, picking up Nightmare and holding him close. "But why?"

[mmmleckerlecker]

I was reading the questions you've answered, and I'm curious now: you said that the co-existence between preds and prey is very recently. So I was thinking the HP world from years ago, when pred could snatch up whoever prey they wanted... How was the society in that time? How did they live? (Headcanon: prey lived underground?) Did the preds have no qualms in consuming whoever they could find? (prey children/teens or the elderly, for example?)... The harmony was founded by a prey or pred? (1/2)

What was the reason for the preds to make the jump from consuming indiscriminately to the public/private contracted prey? (another headcanon: preykind severely disminishing in numbers?) I find your worldbuilding so enchanting, I'm sorry for the avalanche of questions. You're awesome! (2/2)

AHHHH YES!!! THE QUESTION I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR!!! No need to apologize!!! I have considered making a post about stuff like this for awhile now but I’m always like “do people REALLY wanna hear all that?” But now i have the perfect excuse. Thank you, anon! You’re awesome too!! (WARNING this kinda turned into a chapter length read. So I hope y’all like to read history about fictional worlds.)

Okay so. This is all stuff I’ve sorta kept in my head and have built upon when I’ve had ideas, so sorry if there are some gaps currently haha.

So I imagine preds and prey started trying to “make peace” about five centuries ago but didn’t start living in true “harmony” until about two hundred years ago. And I use the term “harmony” loosely because clearly there’s still a lot of infighting happening. Before that, the preds and prey lived in two entirely separate cultures. The prey lived in larger, more stationary groups while the preds lived in much smaller, more nomadic groups. They also DEFINITELY didn’t speak the same language.

So for preds, the groups they would live in were more like traveling pods that consisted of maybe 1-3 families living/working together. Having groups of preds getting too large was… not sustainable. It would create too much competition for food. So each group would usually give other groups of preds a wide berth. Granted there were definitely still spats for territory, especially if said territory had a good supply of prey available.

Prey, much like in modern times, were never really the preds’ main food source, however. Preds would still hunt and gather like normal. It would usually take some organizing to get a raid together on a prey village (or a pred could just get lucky and stumble across one that wandered off alone). Consuming prey all the time was just too much effort. They weren’t a practical food source nor a completely sustainable one if they were over-predated. Also! Keep in mind, the more a pred consumes, the more their body acclimates to handling such a large meal. It would be better for the preds to consume every once in awhile and have their prey take longer to digest (hence, keeping them fueled longer) than to consume ALL THE TIME and risk addiction. I think consuming would probably become more regular in the cold months too, when it was harder for preds to find other food sources.

As for WHO the preds would consume? Definitely adults would make for the best meals. Children? Well, I imagine prey would be very protective of their children, first of all, making them difficult to obtain. But also they would just make… not as filling meals? Also prey children are mostly the same size as pred children so there might be that little hesitation there on the pred’s end as they’re reminded of their own kind. I guess if the pred is desperate? There’s always gonna be a time and place for special circumstances. As for the elderly… I imagine they also live in places that are harder for preds to get to. I also think if a prey managed to live that long, they would have a trick or two up their sleeve. But like I said, there’s always a possibility for things to happen.

Now for how prey live…. Like I said, they live in larger groups. There is safety in numbers, after all. These groups were basically villages, sometimes even cities where prey could really know their territory and set up defenses against any invading preds. (An underground dwelling is really cool idea tho! I also believe that prey evolved to be able to fold themselves up and be comfortable/feel safe in tight spaces that preds could never reach them in, so prey living in like a cave system might actually work really well!) Like it’s been stated in the story, prey tend to have a lot more children than preds for “just in case.” This could cause their towns to become rather large and populous sometimes.

Prey, also unlike preds, usually tried to keep in contact with neighboring towns/villages/cities. This was one of the key factors for what made it possible for the shift to both sides living in harmony to happen. Since the prey lived in settlements and kept in contact with other prey settlements, it allowed for a certain development of culture as well as the sharing and recording of knowledge that preds… just didn’t have. Prey were able to develop things like farming and running water. They could study math and science and share their knowledge in libraries and schools. They were really on their way to becoming an advanced society, they just had one big (both figurative and literal) problem holding them back. They constantly had preds attacking and killing off their people.

Despite their efforts to fight them off, the prey just weren’t winning. So they decided, if a war against preds wasn’t going to get them anywhere, then why not make peace? The first step for this was the prey learning the preds’ language. This was… dangerous, of course. But it was done enough that the prey were able to open conversation with preds. Just this move alone caused a huge shift between both sides. What are you supposed to do when your food, which for centuries has only babbled nonsense at you before you swallowed it down, suddenly starts speaking to you like an equal? It certainly gave preds pause, but not enough to stop consuming. Not that the prey didn’t expect this. They approached the preds with more than just a common language. Their first big move was offering them food. And not just any food, but GOOD FOOD. Cooked food, decadent food, spiced foods, foods that preds didn’t have the resources (nor the patience) to prepare.

Sharing food took… probably a little more effort than one might expect. Prey and preds view food fundamentally different. To prey, it’s sustenance but also something to enjoy and connect with. To preds, it’s simply something to stop hunger. There was a sort of learning curve for preds to actually learn to ENJOY food for its flavor, but once they got it… OH BOY!!! A door was opened! Because despite LIKING prey food, the preds weren’t always so good at preparing it, so it gave the prey something they could exchange for safety. (This is also something that persists into modern times. Preds are still often stereotyped as not having very refined palates and not being very good at preparing food. This is referenced a little in Heart Pangs itself as well as the one-shot I posted last week!) Once the food trade became established, it opened up relations enough to exchange other things!

The prey shared would they could with the preds in exchange for their own survival. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t. Sometimes it SEEMED to work but then the preds turned on them and things went downhill very quickly. But the prey had the advantage of sheer numbers and determination on their side (that and if they didn’t keep pushing they would literally be eaten alive). It took generations of negotiations, but the preds and prey eventually came to a sort of truce, though consuming never stopped entirely.

The preds weren’t stupid, they saw the prey had a lot of good stuff to offer them. At first they took what they needed and went their separate ways, but as they gained more trust from the prey, the preds encroached more and more into their territories until both sides were more or less neighbors. There were some advantages to this. If both sides cooperated enough, they were able to make further advances as civilized societies. But there were also disadvantages… like the fact that the preds were always bigger and the prey were always making sure not to anger them so it became very easy for the preds to take whatever they wanted and leave the prey with less than they deserved.

The prey even began to lose their own language as most of the preds couldn’t be bothered to learn the prey’s language (although a lot of prey terms for food and science stuck around). The preds stopped being the enemy who lived outside the prey’s walls and suddenly became the bully who lived next door. Yes, technically the prey were a little safer than before, but the advantages they once held over the preds were slipping away as the preds claimed more and more of what the prey had until the preds were able to start developing their OWN advantages.

For a long time, the preds and prey operated as two different societies that lived in one space, meaning each group had their own leaders and their own laws. But as things began getting more and more strained between each side (as they tend to do when two natural enemies live side-by-side), the prey (once more) tried to make peace. They made the bold move of reaching out to the pred leaders in an attempt to work together and function as a singular society (although both sides more or less continued to live as two societies, just under the rule of one government). The preds were surprisingly open to this change, which was a relief to the prey… at first. But then it became clear that this was mostly just a power grab for the preds to acquire more status and wealth and power amongst the prey.

Besides the fact that a lot of prey were falling into poverty because of this, the most glaring issue was that the “unification” had made it even easier for a lot of preds to break the peace and consume prey with barely any consequences. This caused a lot of prey to flee and seek out safer, more remote places to live. Eventually it got to the point where the prey leaders threatened to break away from pred society completely. The preds didn’t like this, though, as they’d gotten very used to having prey within easy reach. They also knew that losing half the people in their society would cause a lot of problems in terms of keeping everything running smoothly. However, the preds very much did not want to give up consuming entirely. It was in their nature after all, they argued.

So after A LOT of negotiations, both sides came to a compromise. The preds would actually start enforcing consuming as something illegal UNLESS the prey being consumed had agreed to it beforehand. Obviously the prey leaders couldn’t see any prey ever AGREEING to being consumed, so they settled on the compromise thinking that was the end of it. This was the true beginning of the “harmony” between preds and prey, but of course, the preds always have something up their sleeves.

Rich preds began offering up money and food and shelter to all those desperate prey in poverty. Those prey could get everything they could ever want for, the only payment was their lives ending in said pred’s gut (after a specified amount of time). These ventures started slow, but once they started to catch on, BOY DID THEY CATCH ON. The desperate prey began hearing about certain preds who were practically giving away wealth, all it took was a signature written in (figurative) blood. Meanwhile preds began hearing about other preds who had found a loophole in the consuming law and wanted in on the action. Like any good entrepreneur, the preds turned their contracts into a business and started selling them to other preds.

The prey leaders, of course, despised this, but what could they do? It all aligned with the compromise they had made. The only thing they could do was stand by and help come up with regulations for this new practice. So they did. Over the decades, the contracting businesses grew to what they are today (large corporate monsters… although the smaller, more private contracts still exist) as well as became the core to keeping the peace. Even the government itself offers contracting services now.

Society has shifted considerably in the years since harmony was reached. The two sides have mostly learned to live with each other. Prey have fought viciously to be treated as equals while a lot of preds go their whole lives without consuming (particularly fatally) even once. And, as you know, the development of neutralizers allowed preds to experience consuming without having to hurt anyone. A lot of progress has been made, but a lot of progress still needs to happen.

And I think that pretty much catches us up to the setting of Heart Pangs (whew)! I keep thinking it would be really cool to write a story that takes places in an earlier time period to further explore how different the relations between preds and prey would be, but I have yet to come up with a plot haha. Maybe someday. I’m sure an idea will come to me at a proper time. Anydays, thank you for your interest! It was really nice to be able to (finally) type all this up somewhere!!

[m19writes4mlb]

Defenceless - Chapter 2

Summary: Marinette gets trapped inside her own head. A stray cat notices and does something about it.

Chapter: 2/?

Word Count: 4303

Rating: T

Vulnerability was not something she allowed herself often. As Ladybug, Marinette felt as though she owed it to Paris to be strong. She knew she couldn’t indulge in sadness or anger like her fellow Parisians could. The second she accepted the Ladybug Miraculous, she made a commitment to put Paris and its citizens above everything. She was the city’s heroine first and foremost. Ladybug needed to be calm and collected at all times. She needed to keep everything under control, for millions of people were counting on her. She had to be a pillar of hope and strength for her city, for she knew that were she not around, Shadow Moth would’ve won already.

Behind the mask and underneath her superpowers, still lies a teenage girl however. She was still growing up and learning, a teen who had yet to experience so much. People her age should be making mistakes and learning from them, hanging out with friends and gossiping about ongoing drama at school, experimenting with relationships, and discovering themselves. Then again, she had responsibilities bigger than those of most adults she knew, and she couldn’t allow herself a single misstep.

Marinette had tried. She had tried so hard to lead a normal life. Nevertheless, all of those attempts backfired.

She had to balance being Ladybug with her responsibilities as guardian, school, her design commissions, her online shop, babysitting, helping her parents out in the bakery, and her duties as class representative whilst still having a semblance of a social life. One of those was bound to be unintentionally neglected, it turned out that in this case, the blow was taken by her social life. Whenever Marinette attempted to hang out with someone, be it her friends or her boyfriend Luka - ex-boyfriend she melancholy reminded herself -, an Akuma decided to attack and she had to cut whatever they were doing short. This put a strain on her relationships with those around her, and it led to all of them gradually deteriorating. She saw it happening right before her, yet there was nothing she could do about it.

Marinette could tell those around her were getting more and more frantic with the need of an explanation. She kept standing people up, disappearing in the middle of whatever they were doing, and running so late to planned events that they were basically over by the time she got there.

Luka, sweet, too-good-for-her Luka, was trying his best to be understanding. He was doing everything in his power to be the best partner for the girl he deemed as pure as a musical note and as sincere as a melody. Marinette, however, felt as far from that as one ever possibly could with the weight of the secrets she guarded. She knew Luka was close to reaching his breaking point. He was getting more and more restless and asking more and more questions whenever Marinette disappeared or became a no-show to their dates. He once told her that she could tell him as much or as little as she wanted and he was giving it his all by sticking to his words, never turning to anger or demanding for something she didn't give willingly. Still, Marinette was witness to how much her none-answers were hurting him.

Marinette could see the storm of hurt and doubt that was beginning to brew on his ocean eyes. She had the best seat in the house for the unravelling of Luka Couffaine and she hated that she was the one who directed it. Marinette knew she had to end it all before she could do any more damage to him. Before there was nothing left of the one amazing boy who managed to make himself at home in her heart regardless of the fact that it had already been occupied.

They had only been together for around six months, but Marinette had grown to care deeply about Luka, she even dares say she might love him. He was her refuge when things got too overwhelming. Luka was always ready with willing, open arms to help hold her together when she was close to falling apart. He had seen her utterly and completely broken, and got her through her despair as a civilian. He owned a piece of her heart, just not the whole of it, which is another reason as to why Marinette felt so dirty for putting him through everything she had done so.

Marinette knew one can only put up with so much, and she was aware Luka was close to snapping. She stood him up or disappeared for long periods of time mid-date more and more often. Her lackluster excuses were not cutting it anymore, and even if he never pressed for more, she knew it was taking a toll on him not to do so. The only way to fix everything as far as she could see was by telling the truth, and that was the one thing she couldn't ever do, no matter how tempting the prospect was.

Earlier today, her disappearing act had finally grown old, and the ever-brewing storm behind Luka's eyes had ultimately turned into a full-blown hurricane. He begged her for answers. He told her that he needed that sincerity he first saw on her back. Luka asked for it with such desperation and despair that he became the perfect prey for Paris's local supervillain.

Fighting Vérité and Pharo turned out to be one of the most exhausting and painful Akuma fights of her career. Vérité’s power wasn't the most destructive or difficult to fight. Yes, forcing people to dispel their biggest secrets was a dangerous threat for those who needed to hide their identities, but what made Vérité such a formidable opponent was the fact that he was Luka Couffaine, co-owner of Marinette's, aka Ladybug's, heart. She knew she had caused her lover enough anguish for a black butterfly to hunt him down. She knew that any damage that resulted from this was on her, and that it was she, and she alone, who had driven this beautiful soul to such a state.

She knew her boyfriend deserved better. Thus, when Vérité became Luka again, she finally did what she had been too afraid - maybe even too selfish - to do before in spite of all the signs she had seen. Marinette had ended things with Luka.

He took it in stride, hugging her close and promising to be there for her when she was ready. Despite everything, he still wanted to be there for her, regardless of everything she put him through, Luka still cared, and she really did not feel worthy of such unconditional love from him.

After walking away from the bridge where the fate of her first relationship was decided, she got home. She showered, put on her comfiest pjs, and climbed to her balcony. She observed the streets of Paris, the city she had sworn to protect just a bit over a year and a half ago. Would she have made such a commitment if she had known the sacrifices she'd have to make to keep it?

When push comes to shove, not only has her relationship with Luka taken a blow. She can't even remember the last time she had a proper hangout with her girls. So many around her wanted to help, to understand what had dimmed the fire inside the always-warm and positive Marinette. Nevertheless, Marinette could not let them in. Not a soul was allowed to know that she carried the weight of the safety of Paris and the Miracle Box on her shoulders. She was to carry this burden on her own, for anyone who was to know not only would become a target, but also a liability.

Her vision became blurry as the weight of all her responsibilities and today's events finally crashed down on her. Her knees buckled as a sob wracked her body. She curled into herself, bringing her knees to her chest and hiding her face in her hands. It wasn’t fair.

She gave this city her everything. If one never stops giving, they’re bound to exhaust themselves at some point. She knew she was almost there, but she didn’t want to give up. Her city, her people, her minou all needed her. She had to stand tall and strong, for everyone’s sake.

Even so, just for now, Marinette allowed herself a break down. She permitted herself just for a small while to open the chest, buried deep, within herself and spill its contents. She let her pain run free. She was tired, so tired. She felt like she had bitten more than she could chew. Never before had Marinette felt this overwhelmed. Not even when Lila had managed to get her expelled had she felt so hopeless, so alone.

“CATACLYSM!”, Chat Noir’s scream brought her out of her spiral of misery.

Marinette lifted her face to see Chat’s closed fist right beside her head.

Her eyes bulged and her hands went for her mouth as she processed what had just occurred. She almost got herself akumatized. That’s how much of a failure she was. If her Chaton hadn’t been here, what would’ve happened? She was probably the worst guardian ever!

She wanted to stop crying. She didn’t want Chat to see her like that. Still, her eyes weren’t cooperating. If anything, more and more tears kept coming, and she didn’t know what to do.

“Marinette? Please tell me what’s wrong, Princesse?”, Chat said as he crouched in front of her. He put a hand on her shoulder whilst he used the other to wipe her tears. Marinette’s lip trembled as Chat gazed earnestly at her.

“I-I just can’t do this anymore, Chat. It’s all just too much and I-I just don’t know what to do.”, Marinette cried out. She hadn’t really meant to say anything. If her head were clearer, she probably would’ve tried to pass off her breakdown as something trivial, an easily fixed thing that she was overreacting to. Yet her guard was down. The chest that held her secrets was opened, and she simply did not have the energy to bury everything again.

Chat pulled her in. He asked no more questions nor pressed her to elaborate. He just held her close and rubbed soothing circles onto her back as he rested his chin atop her head. They stayed like that for a couple of minutes, Marinette holding onto him like a lifeline. He offered her shelter from the world, and she was determined to make the most of it. Slowly, her sobs subsided into whimpers and later on disappeared altogether.

Chat’s ring beeped, but he didn’t try to pull away; actually, he held on tighter. Marinette looked up. Chat had his eyes screwed shut whilst he cradled her. For the first time that night, she took in his appearance. His hair was messier than usual. In fact, it looked like he had been pulling on it. His face seemed slightly redder and puffier as well. His cheeks were glistening a little due to what gave the impression of being hastily wiped tears. It appeared she wasn’t the only one having a rough day.

“Chat?”, she asked in a soft voice.

He screwed his eyes shut tighter and let some air out, but aside from that he didn’t offer much of a response. Marinette lifted a hand to his cheek. She used her thumb to gently wipe away the dry tear tracks there.

“Minou, what’s wrong? Do you want to talk about it?”, she murmured.

“I honestly don’t think I have the time to even begin to explain myself, Princesse.”, Chat responded with a humourless laugh. As if on cue, his ring beeped again. 3 minutes left, Marinette mentally tallied.

Marinette didn't really want to let go. Chat's arms felt like a haven, and she did not want to leave their safety any time soon. She took a deep breath. It was probably reckless, but she couldn’t really find it in herself to let him go. After everything that had happened today, she felt as though she was owed a bit of indulgence.

“Do… Do you want to come inside? I know that your timer is running out, but…”, she said as she looked down, feeling slightly embarrassed by her own forwardness. She took a moment to collect herself before looking up again and continuing, “But I don’t really want to be alone right now, and… I think you don’t want to either. We could talk… or not. I know you have to recharge, and I have a fair amount of snacks inside. I promise I won’t peek, I-I just don’t want to be so lonely.”

Chat hesitated a bit. She knew what she asked him to do was risky, but she truly felt like it was what they both needed at the moment. She waited with bated breath before Chat nodded.

“Who am I to deny a princess such a sincere request?”, he joked with a sad smile.

His ring gave another warning, and Marinette stood up and guided him by the hand towards the trap door leading to her room. She noticed Chat was careful to avoid landing on her bed with his boots, as she moved them to her loft. Marinette went to one of her drawers and pulled out a bag of cheesy popcorn. She knew Plagg favoured cheese, but she only kept non-perishables for the kwamis. She hoped the god of destruction and chaos wouldn’t mind that much.

“I know this might not be your kwami’s preferred food, but I hope this still works. Stand behind the screen right there. I’ll get some blankets and snacks. We could watch something, or just talk, whatever you want.”

Marinette was a bit nervous. This really wasn’t wise. She kept the Miracle Box, full of restless kwamis, here. She knew she could trust Tikki to stay hidden, but what about the rest? This was chancy, but she needed it. She was almost akumatized a few minutes ago. She needed to get herself together, and she knew that if she was left alone with her thoughts and that just wasn’t going to happen.

“Claws in”, whispered Chat as a flash of green light filled the room.

It felt strange to know that her partner was standing just a few meters away, disguiseless. If she wanted to, she could easily find out who it was that hid behind the black mask. She would never betray his trust like that, but the fact that he was right there hidden by a mere changing screen was thrilling.

Marinette knew he was distressed too, and she wanted to help. She knew better than to pry too much. It was imperative they stayed in anonymity. Nevertheless, she vowed to do everything she could to help.

Marinette went about and grabbed her laptop, a big, fluffy blanket, a box of tissues, and a bag of popcorn. She settled on her chaise and made herself comfortable. She figured that regardless of whether Chat wanted to talk or not, having some show or movie playing even if just for background noise wouldn’t hurt. Just as she started browsing, a flash of green overtook the room once more, signalling Chat Noir was back.

He approached her chaise timidly. Marinette was aware that with the two of them it would be a snug fit, but she wanted the contact. She needed the reaffirmation that she was not on her own, that the one person who could relate the most to her was there. She wanted him close, but she was not about to make him feel uncomfortable for her own gain. She was feeling self-indulgent, but never to that extent.

“I know the chaise is small, but I promise it’s pretty cosy. We could sit on the floor if you’d prefer though.”

Marinette began to stand. After all, she didn’t want to put Chat on the spot. Were she Ladybug right now, she knew her minou would jump at the chance to be close to her, but she was Marinette at the moment. Even if her civilian self and Chat had spent some time together before, le Dessinateur and Glaciator coming to mind, they were not nearly as close as Ladybug and he were.

“You don’t have to move, Princesse. I’m more than okay with sharing the chaise.”, he replied hastily.

Chat got under the blanket and sat beside Marinette, leaning back to rest more comfortably on the pillows. Marinette passed the popcorn and tissues to Chat whilst she continued her quest for what to watch.

“Do you like Disney? They’re kind of my comfort movies, and I kinda need as much of it as I can get right now.”, Marinette told Chat.

Disney movies were familiar. They reminded Marinette of simpler, happier times. She needed something light-hearted with a happy ending guaranteed. Lord knows she couldn’t take any more drama.

“I don’t mind Disney at all, but my favourite princess is right by my side.”, Chat said, bumping his shoulder with hers and offering her a lopsided smile. He paused before adding on a more serious note, “But really, Marinette, what’s wrong?”

His gaze on her was soft. Concern was written clearly on his face. He was safe. He was safe, she chided. Marinette trusted her Chaton. He was understanding, and genuinely wanted to help. She knew she could let him in, but she also knew it was risky. Her biggest problem stemmed from being Ladybug and she couldn’t let anyone know about that, regardless of how much she trusted them. She was aware she couldn’t share everything, but maybe opening up a little wouldn’t hurt. She needs this, just for today, she’ll allow herself to be honest.

“It’s kind of a mix of a lot of stuff.”, she started softly, averting her gaze. She chose her next words carefully, for she was about to play with fire. “I am used to having a lot on my plate. Balancing a million things at once is just second nature to me at this point. I used to be okay with all of it. After all, most of it is to help others. I love being able to be there for those I care for. I am fine with giving, and giving, and giving if it’s for them. The problem is that I can’t find balance anymore. I can’t remove anything from my plate; that just won’t do. But if I keep going on like this, it’s all going to consume me.”

Tears started blurring her vision, but she blinked them away. She wasn’t going to start crying again. Lord knows she can’t risk Shadow Moth trying to get her again. “It’s already taking a huge toll on my social life. I haven’t seen my friends in so long…. I-I even had to break up with my boyfriend because of it all.”

She could’ve stopped there, but once she started she realised that the further she went the lighter she felt. It was like a dam had broken and her words were the water once held back, flowing at rapid, unstoppable speed.

“I used to think that I thrived by helping others out. I enjoy it, and love what I do, but I might have overestimated my abilities. I thought I could handle it all since I have been doing just that for so long. I hadn’t really noticed until lately how much of a toll shouldering on so many things is taking on me. I keep chipping away pieces of myself for the sake of it all. My responsibilities won’t stop calling. It all came crashing down today with Vérité. All Luka wanted was for me to be honest about why I kept disappearing and standing him up, and the truth was that I couldn’t tell him. I wanted to, but I genuinely cannot go into detail about some of my responsibilities. I realised that Luka deserved better than a flaky girlfriend.”

Her voice had started out frantically following a crescendo until it peaked and trickled into barely a whisper with her final realisation as a single tear slipped, “Maybe I never deserved him and I was just too selfish to admit it to myself.”

Suddenly, green eyes met blue ones for Chat had turned Marinette to look at him and in a tone that left no room for discussions said, “You are one of the most selfless and caring people I know, Marinette. You are smart, quick-witted, and kind. It is normal to need to break away from it all sometimes, especially when you have so much going on. Needing a breather does not suddenly erase all the goodness in your heart and the positivity you put out into the world. It simply proves you are human.”

“But there is just so much to do, kitty. I cannot just get up and take a break. People are counting on me, people I care about. I don’t want to let anyone down.”, she said, breaking eye contact and looking down.

Chat softly lifted her face by the chin so she was looking at him again before saying, “Taking a break doesn’t mean letting people down. You could delegate things. I am sure you have friends who would be more than willing to help. I’m sure if you start getting a bit of help from others, not only would you feel better, but you’ll also do better.”

Marinette knew Chat was right. She could ask one of her girls to help her out with babysitting. She could delegate certain meetings with Principal Damocles to Alya. She could even ask her parents to cut her some slack at the bakery. However, Marinette did not want to bother them. She didn’t want to annoy anyone by throwing her responsibilities at them. They all have their own lives, and Marinette did not want to make them any harder for them.

“I don’t want to be a burden, Chat. I don’t want to bother my friends with all of this.”, she said feeling small.

“Marinette, sometimes you have to accept that you can’t do it all on your own. Take Ladybug and me, for example. Sometimes an akuma is a bit too strong, and we just can’t take it on by ourselves. So, Ladybug goes out and asks someone she trusts to come help us out. I mean, you know that better than most, or am I wrong, Multimouse?”, Chat questioned, giving her a mischievous smirk.

Marinette smiled mirthfully at the reference to her stint with Mullo. It certainly was amongst her more complicated plans, but it thankfully worked out perfectly in the end. Plus, Chat had a point. When things got too rough, Ladybug asked for help. If her persona as one half of Paris’s duo protectors could do it, her civilian-self should be able to too.

“Plus, good friends are always there for each other, and I am sure yours are not the exception. They’ll understand if you need a helping hand. After all, you are always there for them. None of them will hesitate in returning the favour. I am sure you can count on them.”, Chat continued with conviction.

Marinette had to admit Chat Noir was making a lot of good points. Her kitty was surely onto something. She definitely should start mapping out a plan to delegate some things in a way that will not include her dropping the ball on something or unceremoniously unloading too much on someone.

She still was the Guardian. She still was Ladybug. She was still just a kid who got the responsibility of keeping a city of millions safe from a terrorist unceremoniously thrown at her despite everything that was already on her plate beforehand. But right now, with her Chaton at her side, she got reminded that she did not have to do it all alone. She has friends and loving, understanding parents. She has a strong support system, all she needs is to learn how to use it, which is honestly easier said than done. However, she can finally see a light at the end of this tunnel, all she needs to do is find a way to follow it.

A feeling akin to relief floods her. Not everything is fixed, but the right direction for her next step has just been given to her. Marinette is incredibly grateful towards her kitty right now, and she lets this feeling take over. She does not hesitate when putting her arms around him and pulling him close, hiding her face on the crook of his neck. Chat hesitates for a second, probably surprised by her suddenness. Regardless, he still puts his arms around her waist and holds her close.

The smell of leather, a fresh woodsy cologne, and a slight hint of camembert that she guesses is Plagg’s fault fills her nostrils, soothing her further. She knows she can always count on Chat Noir. Tears of happiness suddenly prickle her eyes. Just a couple of minutes ago she was feeling alone and hopeless, but her wonderful, wonderful partner showed her how mistaken she was. She cannot begin to put into words how grateful she is, certain that her voice would fail her anyway right now. That does not stop her from muttering a very watery, “Thank you, Kitty.”

They stay like that for a while, Marinette just struggling a bit to compose herself. However, once her breathing evens out again, she pulls away and looks at Chat Noir. She knows something is bothering him, and she wants to help him through whatever he’s going through. Thus, she decides to inquire, “Now, don’t think I didn’t notice I wasn’t the only one who had it rough today. Tell me, Chaton. What’s wrong?”

← Chapter 1

Author's Note

I honestly struggled with getting this one down. I want to porperly portray what I believe the repercussions of being Ladybug and Chat Noir is having on Marinette and Adrien. It is clearly taking a toll on them, and the show doesn't really delve all that much on that (for obvious reasons).

We got a fair glimpse during Gang of Secrets on Mari's case, but when it comes to Adrien we get nothing more than hints here and there. I understand why the show can't do much about showing us this because of its status as a children's show. Thus, I've decided that I'd take matters into my own hands and write that myself. That's why I decided to give Defenceless a T rating instead of a G one.

I hope you guys enjoy Defenceless as much I enjoy writing it! :)

Ko-fi AO3

[angel-tries-to-write]

Sunrise

Fandom: Assassin’s Creed Rating: Teen and up Pairing: Shay Cormac x reader Word count: 2344 Genre: angst

Shay is the Templar now, while you’re still the Assassin. Your love is as strong, as it’s forbidden. Yet sometimes the smallest things can mean the most. Inspired by “In The Heights”, this time.

Some people are unable to stay away from trouble by either causing them or finding them involuntarily. This kind of people simply cannot sit still when something is happening, they always have to be involved. Each one of you was that kind of people, you, Kesegowaase, Liam, Hope and Shay. After all, regular and peaceful people don't become Assassins, this kind of job is meant for uneasy spirits who can't stay in one place for long. They also must want to change the world for the better. At least this kind of thinking led you to the Brotherhood and you couldn't complain. You had an adventurous life, you were making the world more free with every killed Templar and you had your friends who always had your back. One of them was even more than a friend.

Shay was always the most energetic and impatient, like a white hot spark popping out of the fireplace. He acted or spoke first, then thought, compared to him you were almost stoic. Yet you had found a common ground easily, a lot like him, you doubted if what your Brotherhood was doing was right. You would've spend hours talking, joking and having fun, which ultimately lead you to develop a romantic relationship. For a very short time your life just couldn't be better. You were young, unstoppable and absolutely in love.

Unfortunately, your doubts turned out to be real. When Shay was sent to Lisbon, you couldn't stop thinking about him, you wanted him to come back to you, despite knowing he was fully capable of taking care of himself. One day, after painfully long weeks, you saw your lover coming back to the Homestead. You missed him dearly and you were pretty sure he missed you as well, yet when you ran to meet him halfway, you noticed he was upset. He didn't want to talk to you, he only said he needed to see Achilles. Soon you got to know what was bothering your man and you wished you didn't. Shay was right, the Brotherhood went away from its own tenants, but unlike him, you believed it could be fixed. You tried to convince him to help you, but he wasn't listening. Therefore he earned himself a mark of a traitor and was presumably killed, while you were punished for trying to protect him. But when you had found out he survived and joined the Templars, you stopped caring about the others. You had to see him.

Hidden in the soothing darkness of the night, when there was no moon and only stars were shining, you snuck out of the Homestead, triple checking if no one followed you. Then you infiltrated the Templars' quarters, where you expected to find your former partner. Finally, after a few hours of hiding in the shadows, you had found Shay's room. But as soon as you stepped in, he pulled out his sword and pointed it at your throat.

“I must admit, I am impressed. It doesn't happen often, that a prey comes to the predator themselves” he spoke trying to be cool, but you could tell his voice was about to crack. He didn't want to hurt you, even if he thought he had to.

“I'm not your prey” you answered, looking directly into his eyes.

“Why did you come?”

“To see you. Whether you believe it or not, I genuinely miss you. It's not a trick and no one knows I'm here. If you really want to kill me, go for it. But I don't think you can” you said daringly. Shay's hand trembled and he bit his lip. He certainly expected a trick, but failed to sense it, because there wasn't any.

“I can. You won't be the first Assassin who fall to my sword” he protested, but you knew he was bluffing. You could see it in his eyes.

“Really? You already forgot what was between us? How I tried to stop the others from killing you, because of my feelings for you? I love you, Shay. And nothing can change that, even if I wanted it more than anything. I didn't come here to kill you, I came here to see you and here's my proof” you exposed your hands proving you didn't have your hidden blade. That seemed to convince the man to lower his weapon.

“You came here unarmed? That's just stupid” he raised his eyebrow in disbelief.

“I'm not unarmed, I have a dagger, a few smoke bombs and some throwing knives. Everything that can provide me escape if something went wrong. But I didn't have to use them and I don't need them for now” you scoffed and unbuttoned your coat, then undid your belt and put them on the floor, clearly showing you didn't take anything from it, then you stepped away from them.

“What game are you playing, (y/n)?” Shay asked and you shrugged.

“I'm not playing any game. I missed my boyfriend who turned out to be not dead, so I wanted to see him. Now, would you allow me to come close to you, or am I supposed to take off something else?” you asked and his eyes lighted with feelings. Just like you, he couldn't simply ignore his heart.

“I have a few ideas” he admitted with a smirk.

“Then come and take it off yourself” you copied his smirk and opened your shirt, exposing your chest. That made Shay inhale sharply and unbutton his own clothes. At the same time he started to approach you and you weren't going to wait patiently. Your bodies crashed with desperation and longing, touch starved skin itched with the lightest brush, your clothes quickly became disturbing, so they had to go. It didn't take long until you both were naked and heavily aroused.

“I missed you so much, love” Shay purred as he kissed your neck.

“I missed you too” you whispered, stifling a moan as he sucked on your pulse point. For a moment the whole world was gone, Assassins, Templars, nothing mattered, only the two of you. It felt divine to feel him so close again, to make love with him, to forget you had any issues. The bliss lasted until the dark room started to light up a little, an inevitable sign that the night was coming to an end. Yet you kept lying in the arms of your beloved one, trying to figure everything out.

“Join me, (y/n)” you heard him say and you sighed. You knew he was asking for too much.

“I can't, my love. I understand your point, I shared your doubts, after all, yet I don't think there's no other option. There has to be.”

“They need to be stopped.”

“They need to be corrected. I believe there is a way to prove them wrong, to make the Brotherhood follow its Creed again. But becoming a Templar is not the solution” you lifted yourself on your elbow. “I respect your decision, Shay, but I also want you to respect mine. I will not betray the Brotherhood. I'm the Assassin since birth. If you're the Templar, that makes us mortal enemies” you stated, fighting back the tears. Shay caressed your cheek and you leaned into his hand.

“You were right. I couldn't kill you. And I will respect your decision, though I do not approve of it. I also can't go back to the Brotherhood.”

“Yes, I know. However this means we have no future together” you sighed and kissed him softly. “I wish we could have our happily ever after.”

“Seems like our fairy tale has no happy ending” it was Shay's turn to sigh.

“We have to catch little moments like this one. Before sunrise. When we are not the Templar and the Assassin, but two people in love.”

“It's sunrise already?” he asked with disbelief and looked at the window.

“It is. And I should go soon.”

“I wish you could stay for longer.”

“Me too. But I can't risk getting caught. I wouldn't want you to get in trouble because of me.”

“I don't care. I just want you” he pulled you close again.

“Anything at all can happen just before the sunrise” you smiled and gently caught his bottom lip between your teeth. He answered to that with a kiss.

“Promise me it's not our last encounter. Promise me you reconsider your allegiance. Promise me...” he silenced as he couldn't find the right words.

“Promise me you'll stay beyond the sunrise. That every time you see it, you will be thinking about me. That you will never forget our love. Because I promise I will never forget it. You will always be in my heart” you swore, marking an X on your chest.

“Why does it sound like a goodbye?” Shay looked at you with concern.

“Because I decided to leave the colonies if everything else fails. I'm not sure where should I go, but I decided that will be the best. If they keep ignoring my warnings, I will have to leave. I don't want to fight them and I don't want to fight you. And if I stay, it will happen sooner or later.”

“Maybe the Brotherhood needs a new mentor. Maybe you should take Achilles' place.”

“Would you be able to spare me if I did?” you asked and his silence was the answer you needed. “That's what I thought” you smiled sadly and slipped out of Shay's embrace. He watched you dress up with sadness and adoration.

“Goodbye, my love. I really hope we meet again” he said and you could tell he missed you already.

“I hope so either” you turned to the window and smiled. “Sunrise” you whispered and went outside, sending your lover one last look. Then you snuck back to the Homestead, which was slightly more difficult, yet not impossible.

“Where have you been?” you heard someone asking. When you turned around, you saw Liam.

“Doesn't matter” you answered, not even stopping by. Your heart hurt after your parting with Shay, you didn't care for much. But Liam grabbed your arm and turned you around, so he could look you in the face.

“You seem sad. What happened?” he asked and pulled your collar, to expose red mark on the base of your neck.

“Nothing happened, let me go” you protested and took a few steps back.

“Nothing happened, yet you snuck out, then came back sad and there's a love mark on your neck” Liam crossed his arms in his chest. “Did you meet with Shay?”

“Why would I?”

“You two were close, so I assume you didn't betray us then only to work for him now.”

“How dare you...”

“He's a traitor, (y/n)! You are supposed to kill him, not fuck him! Otherwise you're a traitor as well!” he yelled and you felt anger overwhelming you.

“I would never betray the Brotherhood! I love Shay and he loves me, but we're painfully aware of our allegiances. That night we forgot about them so we could be together, but I came back, because I'm loyal to my Creed. Even if I'm in love with the enemy” you confessed, unable to look Liam in the eye. “I value the Creed more than the man I love and while I share his belief that the Brotherhood is lost and doesn't follow its own tenants anymore, I know becoming a Templar is not a solution. Shay made his choice and so I made mine. I want to try to restore the Brotherhood, but if you keep being so stubborn, I'll have no choice but leave. I'd rather be a lone Assassin than join Templars or support your actions.”

“Then you can pack your bags already, because we're not going to listen to a traitor. If you're not with us, you're against us.”

“Fine” you turned around and ran straight to your room, where you packed your belongings. The sunlight was pouring through the window and you did your best to not cry. You knew however, that it was the only thing you could do to avoid unnecessary bloodshed.

“(y/n)? What are you doing?” Achilles asked, appearing in the entrance to your room.

“I'm leaving. I can't stay here anymore. Besides, Liam has just accused me of treason, because I've met with Shay” you closed your bag and looked at the older man. “I'm sorry, but I don't want us to fight. I also don't want to fight Shay. It will be best if I leave.”

“You just want to run like that?”

“And what am I supposed to do? I'm torn between my friends and my lover. I can't join him, I can't betray the Brotherhood, I've been the Assassin for all my life and I can't agree with Templars' philosophy. Yet I can't kill him, both of us had plenty of opportunities to kill each other and we couldn't bring ourselves to do that. Despite our allegiances, our love is strong and we can't help it. That's why I have to leave. Shay isn't going to stop, neither are you. I don't want to be a part of this. I'll do better if I serve another Brotherhood than get myself killed here.”

“Very well. Go if you want to, I can even write a letter that would help you get into another Brotherhood. But you are not allowed to come back. If any of us ever see you again, we won't hesitate to kill you” Achilles said and you nodded. Part of you hurt, it was tough to leave the place you had lived all of your life, you were also never meant to see your lover again. But the other part of you was relieved. You expected to be killed for treason, yet you had a point that exile was wiser. After all you were a good Assassin.

“Goodbye, Achilles. I hope one day you find the way to the Creed again” you said and not waiting for an answer, you had left to never come back again.