Tumgik
#ch1: The Nest
and-stir-the-stars · 9 months
Note
Tell me abt! MBMW William! MBMW Henry! What are the adults around like!! What are they up to!!
Also! Freddy! What was his life like before becoming a parent? What prompted him to make the decision to have children? Does he have other family or friends that haven't been shown?
Also. If Vanessa and Michael were in a fight. What methods would they use, who would win, and how close would it be?
long answer under the cut
MBMW William is,, yeah. He's physically never around, which isn't a product of my characterization of William so much as a product of me not knowing how to write him at first and not wanting him to get in the way of the drama between the Afton Kids, but whatever.
He actively tries to avoid being home, partly because he's annoyed by all the expectations his children have of him (expectations like, um, being a good father) and by all the needs they have. It's exhausting knowing that people expect things from you even if you have no desire to try fulfiling those expectations. And additionally, his mood tends to be sour at when at home because he has high expectations for his children that they can never fulfil in his eyes. Not completely.
He believes his children should be self-sufficient, unburdensome, quiet, obedient, loyal, eager to help him fulfil his goals. But even when his children display these qualities, he finds some flaw to tear them down with. Michael’s frustration with William and Elizabeth's clinginess are annoying to him. Evan, meanwhile, just sorta fades into the background most of the time; in the past Evan’s constant crying was an annoyance, but by now Evan has started crying silently and William doesn't bring his kids with him out in public all that much so it's not as much of an embarrassment anymore. Evan isn't the ideal kid, ofc; he's Weird, but at least his quietness and fear of others is a better level of weirdness then, say, Liz and Mike acting out all the time and Liz being so clingy. If it weren't for William’s experimenting on his kids, he'd forget Evan even exists at all, I think. Evan has learned by now (from experience and from watching his siblings) that it's best not to try reaching out to William.
Most of William’s time is spent in business meetings, dealing with business crises, designing animatronics and death traps, finding dirt on his higher up employees he can use for blackmail, forming contingency plans for contingency plans, forming "connections" and putting on shows he can use to further his family-man image, and casing Fredbear locations as he picks out the next crime scene and victim.
William’s a busy man. Especially now, with all the whispers about his company after the Bite, with Henry going awol after Charlie’s death, with his children ever so slowly growing closer (and therefore harder to control; it's more difficult to predict what they will get up to without them defaulting to trying to tear out each others throats), and with Gregory getting more and more bold.
There are some aspects of his job that he enjoys; the business angle gives him the opportunity to be cut-throat and aggressive with other adults in ways he can't get anywhere else. Getting his own way and being in charge of decision making is empowering.
There are some aspects he hates as well. Deep down, he hates sharing the glory with Henry. William usually leaves Henry in charge of buttering up potential business partners because William loathes to be the one doing any "ass-kissing," (lack of control + it's reminiscent of childhood trauma) but sometimes William has to be the one doing that, either because Henry is too soft-willed in William’s mind to deal with certain people/companies without them walking all over Henry or because Henry is just too busy. The times when William has to do some ass-kissing to keep his business afloat, when business deals go wrong, and when people question his authority and his image are often the times when William is the roughest with his kids. And with his murders.
The times he spends at home, he's mostly locked away in his room/office/the garage. The kids survive his worst days by trying not to break the routine of daily life that he sets for them. Liz chipperly asks him how his day was like she always does; they all have to listen to him where he slumps on the couch ranting about work things they don't understand as they try to balance doing chores with paying enough attention to what he says. He asks them about their days, sometimes, but the only answer he wants is either an "i was good, i got good grades and i behaved" or an admission of something he can use against them later. He's exhausted when he comes home and uses how hard he works to support the kids as a guilt tripping mechanism. He's emotionally distant and tense, and the kids all have different reactions to the rare times when he tries acting like a normal caring father and making them act like normal caring children.
He doesn't do much outside of work. William has no friends that he hangs out with outside of work, especially now that Henry is out of the picture.
And, speaking of Henry. He's "out of the picture" but he's not dead or anything. He just did not handle Charlie’s death very well at all. It's been two years since then and he's still withdrawing from everyone he loves; he insists that he's "fine" but everyone who knows him knows that he isn't. He drifts between Fredbear locations both in and out of the state like a ghost; he obsessively checks safety regulations at each one and tries to design and install new security measures like mad, and he's blind to whether these "security measures" are good (like coming up with stamps and coding devices so employees know which children came in with which parents, to avoid kidnapping situations) and which ideas are bad (your scene in Blips when Henry tells kids about the spare keys he keeps hidden around is the inspiration for this particular detail).
He's constantly with the kids at the Fredbear locations he goes to, trying to keep them happy and safe as a coping mechanism for his guilt over Charlie’s death. His wife divorced him years before Charlie died, and Henry drifts around from place to place without telling any of his friends where he's going or that he's leaving at all, so it's difficult for anyone to know where he is or to reach out to him and encourage him to stop and take care of himself. William has to pick up the slack from Henry neglecting his duties as co-head of the company. Henry wasn't always this bad, but things have been getting worse and worse, and I'm sure that by now William is actively trying to cut Henry out of the company, or else he has already succeeded in knocking Henry to a lower ranking position.
Henry is normally a kind-hearted, warm and jolly man. This persona does come out still when he's with the kids at Fredbear's, but by the time MBMW takes place, he's known for the anger and the ferocity with which he will cut you out of his life and burn you to the ground if you challenge his goals (his goals being little more than delusions about making up for not being there for his daughter now). William tried being "supportive" at first, but it didn't take long for him to get bored with Henry's irrationality rather than enjoying it; he tried getting Henry to stop and Be Normal again (maybe leading the company alone wasn't as easy as Will thought) and by now Henry has actively cut William out just like so many of his other friends and family.
Or, it could be interesting if Henry is actually past this point some time after BCOH. Henry starts getting a grip, gets some therapy, and starts letting people back into his life, including one slippery and manipulative William as well as his other friends and family. Henry would have fallen even further into his "William is a good friend and a good person" delusion than ever before, perhaps in part because he's already "wronged" William when William was just trying to "watch out for him" by discouraging him from letting Charlie’s death take over his life like all his other friends warned him about (and he leans further in because he's lost Charlie and is scared of losing anyone else he cares about). So even if the Afton children come to him for help after BCOH, Henry still does nothing.
Either way could work, but Henry hasn't meant much to the story so far and I don't have any current plans to write him in, so there's not much reason for me to settle on a single idea.
Moving on:
Frebby is complicated ig. The story that inspired MBMW is by Star_Going_Supernova on ao3, called Blood of the Covenant. That story, with the same premise of "Gregory and his sister Vanessa are being raised by Freddy and are friends with Evan" (highly recommend reading that story, btw) made me question: what would it look like if the Bite of 83 still happened despite Gregory and the Fazbears' presence?
Star_Going_Supernova has not just Freddy but all of the glamrock animatronics from security breach (tho Freddy and Bonnie are the parents of the household and they're the ones given most of the screentime; the others are extended family). When I made the decision to turn MBMW from a one-shot to an extended au, I liked the idea of having all of the glamrocks (except Bonnie and Chica, I suppose, since those are still animatronics in my au) be humans and part of Freddy's friends and family, but I didn't want to encroach upon Star's story.
Maybe I will write some of them into the story eventually, though, now that my au is developed enough to not be a carbon copy of Star's, because I do like the idea of the glams being there. I would have to figure out what to do about Glam Bonnie, Chica, and Foxy, though; whether to keep the characters and give them new names or scrap them entirely.
Freddy is a writer and performer of children's songs for cartoons, and I think he's an aspiring voice actor as well. If DJ Music Man is a human character in the story, then MM might be what got Freddy into it; either MM had connections in the industry or just encouraged/inspired Freddy to go for it. I think it bothers Freddy, sometimes, that the kids he's so passionate about don't really know his name as the song writer behind the songs for their favorite episodes and shows, but for the most part Freddy just likes making good music that makes kids happy.
When Gregory first found out what Freddy’s job was, and later when Evan first found out, both of the boys likely freaked when they realized Freddy has made some of their favorite songs. Freddy might even have worked on some songs for the tv show Fredbear and Friends. Gregory and Evan’s excitment and awe definitely helps him through that tidbit about him being bothered for the lack of recognition he gets in his field.
This ask made me realize that, yk, Freddy is an actual human being and he would have been an actual little kid at one point and he probably had parents... which. Weird. Really weird.
Obviously the animatronic Freddy was made by Henry and William, so I think it'd be neat to have MBMW Freddy's parents be loosely based off of Henry and William’s dynamic. Maybe Freddy grew up with one abusive parent and another parent who was almost maliciously, purposely ignorant to the abuse Freddy faced. Freddy growing up surrounded by adults who knew something was wrong but did nothing about it makes Freddy passionate to be there for Gregory and Vanessa and then for Evan-- and it makes it hurt so much worse that no matter what he tries, he can't get any authorities to believe him about his suspicions of child abuse in the Afton household. Even the biggest red flag of all-- the Bite-- is something that William weasels his way out of, and-- well, this is getting into spoiler territory for the next chapter of Funtimes, so... ah... yeah. I'll stop talking.
But basically, Freddy has tried doing things to get Evan and the other Afton kids help (it'd be out of character if he didn't), but for one reason or another (not having any evidence, William manipulating authorities, abuse not being as big a deal in the 80s, take your pick), nothing Freddy has tried has worked. Whether or not this is realistic doesn't matter; fact of the matter is, I just wouldn't have a story if Freddy’s attempts had worked. Or rather, I would have a vastly different version of the story. But I like the version of the story as it is, so Willy unfortunately just has Plot Armor to protect him for now.
There's not really a Big Story for how Freddy ended up adopting Vanessa and Gregory. In my head, I thought it would be funny if he just found them squatting in an abandoned building one day and was like well I guess I'm taking you home now!
Ness and Gregory were bouncing around in foster care for a while after they were both rendered parentless. They faced some traumatic stuff in the foster care system before Vanessa finally had enough. Either the foster home they were in was way too abusive or there was talk about separating the two of them into different foster homes, so 15-year-old Vanessa takes 7-8 year old Gregory and just bolts. She'd rather risk trying to survive on their own then the hell they came from. That's when Freddy finds them somewhere and ends up adopting them. It was a big decision, but these kids were desperate. A lot like him, when he was younger, so in a way... the decision was already made the moment he saw them.
And as for Vanessa and Mike,,
Maybe this is a controversial take, but I get "couldn’t actually fight to save his life" vibes from young Mike.
Most of his experience with violence comes from having to learn how to take being hit, thanks to William. With William, he's never actually been in a position where physically fighting back is an option. Even when Mike gets violent with Evan-- and yeah, in the au he not only psychologically and emotionally torments Evan but physically hurts Evan, too-- it's done because he knows Evan is too weak and gentle to fight back.
Mike talks rough, but he doesn't know a single thing about how to defend himself. He gets some pointers when he's with his friends (the fnaf 4 bullies) as they rough house together, torment younger kids, and play jokes on their peers who reject them. But for Mike at least, trying to fight against someone who actually has power over him (unlike Ev) and actually wants to if not deal him real damage then at least wants to incapacitate him (unlike the times he plays rough with his friends)? Young Mike doesn't stand a chance.
He'd be eager at first, managing to get in the first hit (very, very clumsy punches, maybe trying to imitate moves he makes with his friends or that he's seen wrestlers do on tv or on the school team), but an opponent like Vanessa would get the best of him very very quickly.
Vanessa already has the advantage in the fight because she's several years older and is taller; Vanessa herself is a couple inches taller than is average for her age.
Vanessa had a hard time adjusting when Freddy adopted them; she had been burned by foster parents in the past and didn't see any reason to trust that Freddy wouldn't do the same. I can see Freddy signing her up for self defense classes to help her feel strong enough to keep herself and Gregory safe.
Either way, I think that while Vanessa has the means and opportunity to instantly KO Mike, she wouldn't. She would purposely keep him in action. She stalks around him and forces him to constantly move to catch up to her and face her. She lets him keep swinging at her; most of these swings are misses or don't hurt all that much (both from her dodging and Mike having bad aim), but she lets Mike get enough hits in to keep his hopes and ego up so he'll keep coming at her and wearing himself out. Once he's exhausted himself, she moves in for the kill.
Well, not for the KILL, of course. For the most part she just wants to scare him; maybe she knocks him down and twists his arm behind his back until he cries before getting up and walking away; Mike gets away with scrapes and bruises and maybe a black eye, and he's sore for a few days but that's it.
But if she was REALLY pissed, like if she saw Mike hurt Gregory or Evan or even Liz really badly, I can see her losing control and Mike coming out of it with one or more broken limbs, maybe she breaks his nose too.
5 notes · View notes
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Where Evil Nests 
Chapter 1: The H Word
HELLOOO!!! this is smth i’ve been wanting to draw/create since literally september, at least. i don’t want to spoil the “plot,” if you can call it that, but if ur like me and ur an absolute sucker for feral/possessed will, miwi, and Paranormal Shenanigans™ then this AU is for you. it’s highly self indulgent if u can’t tell
Ch1 Ch2 Ch3
rambling under the cut:
this is alternatively known as: i haven’t drawn anything in like three months and i had no intention of doing so today, but somehow i ended up with a killer hand cramp, 4 full pages of a comic i’ve been meaning to write for four months but at this point i had basically given up on actually doing it, and almost 8 hours of my life mysteriously missing; help
sorry for the wonky ass perspective, i never really draw backgrounds and certainly not whole ass buildings. whatever architect designed the creel house is my archnemesis for real, i am biting them biting them biting them >:[[[ i don’t rlly have any excuse for the anatomy other than the aforementioned “haven’t drawn anything in 3 months” tho lmao
hopefully the rain translates okay?? like it looks fine to me but i’m the bitch who’s been staring at these for 8 hours so i don’t trust my own judgement
also this is a will-centric AU and the boy is literally only here as a stick figure-silhouette??? smh smh
it’s 5am i need to collapse now. peace&love on planet earth <333
306 notes · View notes
sugarakis-p2 · 2 years
Text
Mommy needs me! Ch2
Tumblr media
700+ followers special! Thank you so much!
You came to your Aunts farm to get away from stress. But you don’t know how to with the giant Mothman-manchild, who is pissing and jizzing everywhere in your house. You really need answers. Is he an alien? Is he a man? Is he a moth? Too many questions have you turning to the one man you never wanted to see or hear from again. Kai Chisaki, a young yakuza leader that still gives you nightmares.
The vet is moving in. You are starting to consider the fact your Aunt might have kidnapped Shigaraki. When the vet offers to help you move her in asap. Shigaraki hates it. But, this does give him a lot of mommy time.
Warning: Mommy kink possessive Moth Shigaraki.
Ch1
Chapter 2:
"So," the vet started as she grew the Mothman's blood.
Shigaraki eyes silted open and then shut as he nuzzles at your lap. You put his head in your thighs and gently stroked his hair and antennae to keep him still. He rumbles, twitching his wings, as he smothers his face in the crotch of your pants. Loud hot breaths fill the room. The stringent scent of vodka and saki assaults your senses. You don't want to have a conversation.
His behavior is humiliating, and you don't want to look or talk to anyone while he's like this. You heat with shame, wondering how horrible the vet must think you are.
"Do you want testing to see if he has an std?" the vet asked.
"What? Why would you… I mean, I'm not the weird one. You! I was curious about…," You can't finish whatever obvious lie you were about to say. You felt yourself overheating, sweating in fear under the vet's gaze. Shigaraki did not like it. He lifts his head and hisses. He is so drunk he flops back down in the nest, pulling you to him. The vet has to scramble to get the needle still in his arm.
"So defensive. It was clear by the display downstairs that he views you as his property. This is his nest, and if he hasn't tried something, he will soon. I'm not judging you," Tanaka says, putting a bandaid on Shigaraki's arm. You sigh because it can't be avoided. You wriggle your way out of his arms and follow the vet downstairs. It's still daylight. He will be in a deep sleep for hours.
"Would you like coffee?" You offer. The vet nobs and has a seat. She takes a whiff of the air. You hope that she will compliment your barista skills.
"Marking? Oh boy. With how big an aggressive he is, I do not envy you," she says, sipping the coffee. Flustered, you quickly try to explain yourself.
"He's not an animal. He's a man," you start, and the vet shakes her head.
"He is Insectoid. Very rare, especially after the great purge," she said.
"Great purge?" You questioned.
"I'm sorry I interrupted. I am better with animals," She said. Sipping more coffee and waiting for you to continue. You rather hear about the great purge. It makes you self-conscious. Swallowing hard, you begin with your Aunt.
"My Aunt is a pretty famous humanitarian. She has had some tough times. But she was a good person. The more time I spend with Shigaraki, I am concerned he might be a child my Aunt….might have….stolen a child to replace the one she lost. I can not bring myself to go to the authorities. My Aunts name would be dragged through the mud, and I'm worried someone will use Shigaraki as an oddity to be examined," you say quickly.
"You are wondering what he is though, right?" She asked. You nod nervously.
"I don't buy into the unexplained. I highly doubt he's an alien or came from another dimension. He's not a chimera or some beast hybrid of myth. He likely has an insectoid quirk, and his parents avoided the great purge. You are too young to know about this, but human genes started mutating about a hundred years ago. There was a debate about whether it was evolution and how to adapt. But it was short-lived as some very intense fanatics started slaughtering anyone showing these mutation traits. That was a third of the world's population and growing. They solved that problem with vaccination. Everyone gets this shot or risks going against the law. I would have to confirm with the bloodwork, but I believe his heteromorph quirk survived the great purge by his family members hiding in the woods," she said excitedly.
Your lip quivers. You feel so stressed and lost. But also relieved. He is a man, not some monster. You do not like the excitement in the vet's voice. She needs to stay discreet.
"Dr. Tanaka, he needs to be protected. He is just so dangerous but also very vulnerable," you say.
"I fully agree. He is fascinating, but with aggressive primal tendencies, someone will take him from you. I want to help you. I wonder what you intend if it does turn out he's a missing child?" Dr. Tanaka asks.
"I will cross that bridge when I come to it. Each step at its intended time," You say. Tanaka nods.
"I've noticed he is displaying some negative behavior I have seen in abandoned shelter dogs. He is not a beast, he's a man, but I get the feeling most of his developmental years behaviors are based on what he has seen in nature. He is imitating what he sees. I can stay a few days and help with some things, including behavioral. Run the labs in the van," Dr. Tanaka says.
"I would love it. But I'm concerned. I learned the hard way that nothing in this world is free. What do you want as compensation?" You ask with suspicion. She smiles and nods.
"You are right, and I am not purely altruistic. I am familiar with your Aunts work, and I don't want to damage her reputation. But you are right. I want to study him. Before you say no, I want you to consider that I will keep it anonymous and noninvasive. Purely observational. Unlike anyone else, you might have to take him too if he does get sick, I will treat him quietly," She says.
"How would this work? Will you need to stay here? I have a spare bedroom, although it smells like piss," you offer and question.
"Yes, let's deal with the marking," She starts.
"I have been trying to get him to use the bathroom. He refuses it. I even give him big…..uh…treats for it," you blush.
"I think that has more to do with his insect side. I know an Entomologist. I will give him a call. In the meantime, we can try something straightforward. My specialties are livestock and equine. I should be able to earn a good living to pay rent. I will help out in any way I can," she says, staring off into space.
"That would be great. Shiggy is draining my funds. He ate my mommy bunny. She was so sweet. I loved her so much, and he ate her in front of me. It's just been…trying. What is your idea?" you ask, turning away so she can't see you tearing up. What will you do if he has some family looking for him? He's been difficult, but are you ready to let him go? You mentally ask yourself in a sudden burst of panicked stress.
"Have you seen my phone?" Tanaka asks. You ended up going into an insane cleaning spree. Dr. Tanaka just said "fascinating" and lifted her legs when you ran the vacuum while she talked on the landline.
Shigaraki stomped down and ripped the cord out of the vacuum. Permanently killing it before stomping back upstairs.
 You must have drunk a gallon of water and had dinner ready for the hungover Shigaraki. A whole undercooked chicken with mac and cheese. He flicked the broccoli off, shoving the chicken in his mouth, bones crunching.
You put the broccoli and spoon on his plate. He uses the spoon to flick off the broccoli and guide the mac and cheese down his gullet. He drops the plate smacking his lips. He looks over to you and trills with love in his eyes. Swiftly moving to hug you with his greasy bloody hands.
You squeal that cute way that gets him excited. He does as asked. If mommy wants him to clean up in the sink, he will. When he hears a voice and notices his scent has been dulled in his territory, he growls. He whiffs the air and follows the voice but stops dead in his tracks. The voice of that female doctor that poked him was coming from the far-end guest room. An intense smell of citronella and tea tree hit his nose and antennae simultaneously.
His stomach revolted, and he almost puked. He ran outside, chittering and hissing. This ruined his night. It's supposed to be him and mommy. They were going to watch more of that show teaching him how to seduce a bratty mommy. Mommy was going to praise him for being a good boy and give him big boy time. He was about ready to go back and give her a piece of his mind for moving in this third wheel while he was sleeping.
Only mommy ran outside like she was on fire. Dropping her pants and peeing in a bucket. He cocks his head and chirps in curiosity. What is she doing? Doesn't she pee in that porcelain water bucket inside? He comes over to examine what she is doing. He loves the scent of mommy. It lights up his instincts. The hormones will cleanse him from the horrid stringent odor.
His cock strains painfully against his pants when your hormones hit his antennae. Caging you in his arms. Running his feelers all over your body, sniffing loudly and making tiny trills as his nose trails down your back. You Shriek. Smacking at him about how that was a sensitive area. He had no idea what you were jabbering about, but he knows you liked that. He can smell your wetness between your legs.
You pull away from him, picking up the bucket. He is about to ask you what silly thing you think you are doing. He was only going to use the ten words he knew, but you always seemed to get the idea. When your splash your piss around. He gasps, then shrieks as he pulls his dick out and pisses over your scent. Are you nuts! Every horny monster within a hundred miles will smell a breedable female.
It was confusing when you praised him. Wrapping your arms around his waist from behind, pressing your chest to his back. Kissing between his wings and telling him he's a good boy. He is a good boy. He doesn't want to mate in front of the weird female. He doesn't trust that one. She somehow reminds him of someone he vaguely remembers but not liking them.
If you think he's a good boy, now. Wait until he shows you a thing or two. He swells in pride, flapping his wings. Calming them as he turns to face you. Snatching you up in his arms, kissing over your face. He spreads his wings and flies. You scream and clutch at him. Wind whipping your hair against your face and his chest. He chuckles. You are so easily scared. Don't worry. He will protect mommy, always.
He sets down in a moonlit clearing. Fireflies danced on the tall grass in the background. With clawed fingers he points, clearing away some dead leaves, pointing all around you. It takes a moment to realize you are in a fairy ring. With the fireflies, it looks like something out of a fairytale. You pull out your cell phone and take videos and dozens of pictures for your channel.
When you put your phone away to kiss him and tell him what a good boy he is, a sly smirk quirks at the corner of his mouth.
"Mommy," he chirps and points out to the fireflies. He makes a breathy alien sound, and the fireflies come closer. Taking a deep puff, he exhales a shape in front of you. The Fireflies form into the shape of a heart with mom spelled out in the middle.
Your heart fluttered. This was the most romantic thing anyone has tried to do for you. Your emotions are bubbling up and overwhelming you. You start sobbing. Shigaraki's eyes widen in shock. He shoos away the fireflies. How dare they distress his mommy. He holds you close and lets your tears soak up in his ruff. You are about to explain when he coos to you, running his claws up your back. Sending tingles down your spine. It tickles your middle.
You giggle, and that quickly turns into desire. Shigaraki can feel you tense against him. Your arousal building like a flaming need. He can't take it. His fire is always blazing for you. Chirping loudly, he slumps his shoulders. Pressing you down, laying you in the middle of the fairy ring. He remembers an old tale about mating in a fairy ring.
It guarantees his mommy will become a real mommy. A real mommy for his brood. He will always be grateful to your Aunt. But the greatest gift your Aunt gave him was you. He loves you so sincerely he can't express it except with his eternal love. With a legacy that is a direct expression of that love.
He gets harder with his depraved thoughts of you serving him. He will be your everything. You will have no choice but to love and protect the nest and the grubs. He will do his part, of course. He will provide and protect from outside the nest. You yip as you lightly bump the ground with your ass. Surprised by his sudden dominance.
Usually when he sees you cry, he whines and mewls. Licking and keening in attempts to comfort. Laying on the ground, you gasped when you realized you had met the perfect man. You didn't have to tell him that you wanted him. It's like he can read your mind. Then why does he do all the things you hate? Your mind screeched. He freezes at your sudden angry thought.
Humans confused him in this. He feels a few things a few times a day, mostly hatred towards everything but mommy. Females are chaos. But it keeps him on his toes, and it's you. So, he will learn. You were so hot for him a moment ago, then cold, now lukewarm with an apology. He can sense it all. Barreling through on lukewarm is his rule. He wants to breed you, and you wanted him, if only for a moment. A moment was enough to push him forward.
"Need mommy, he whispers with deep gravel. He slips two claws into the crotch of your wet panties. He felt you get wetter. The flush and heat from you made him so hard that he was premature knotting. Must knot in mommy, his mind repeated. Fuck, his instincts need to make you his forever. NEED TO KNOT, MOMMY!
You blush and spread yourself wider for him. You turn your head to the side, not looking at him. There are mixed signals, but looking back at him was the signal. You want him deep in you. Mommy wants to be bred. He undoes his zipper and shoves his aching leaking length all at once, your tight walls resisting him. You feel so good he can't help himself. Mommy screams but doesn't try to move from him even though it obviously hurts. He is buried hilt deep in his tight mommy's cunt.
"Sorry….sorry, m-m-mommy. Tight and wet, mommy," he manages to get out.
"It's ok. You are a good boy. You feel so good. It stings a little, but it's ok. Keep going, my big boy," you moan to him. That gets him excited all over again, lifting himself onto his elbows to keep from crushing you. You look down at his muscular front. His abs quiver and constrict as he works himself deeper in you. Your mouth water at the sight and feel of him. His wings quiver so rapidly that his cock is vibrating. You are captivated by the view of his wings flashing the white and black, spreading and closing, sending vibrations to your core. 
"Thank you, mommy," he hissed. His breath hitched in his throat as his wings beat harder. Tears stung your eyes. He felt big, stretching you and rough. You must wrap your arms around his neck to stay in place. He is so deep and big that it burns, stinging as he starts to rock his hips. Slow to savor the cute expressions and noises you make when he pumps into you.
"Faster, be a good boy. A little faster," you whimper. He can't say no to his precious mommy. You are tightening, sucking his cock back in. Fuck, your body needs to be knotted and claimed by him. Unable to control himself, he fucks you hard. Hips snapping to a blur as you scream and writhe. His instincts light up like fire.
Your lithe little body implores him to fill you. Wings are shaking, cock throbbing in you, his eyes hooded with lust, his pale skin flushed. He smiles greedily, giving you two sharp chirps before stroking deeper and faster. Rubbing your g-spot inside, his antennae caressing your cheeks and tickling.
His body pressed hard against yours, making your pants come out ragged, his hot breath fanning over your hair. You are distracted by the stones digging in your ass and back. Bucking at an even rough tempo, sending waves of pleasure over you. You can still feel the buzz of his wings on your clit, and he is quickly making your climax build at the top of a cresting wave of ecstasy.
"Good boy. So, good," you encourage him. He quickly bites off two of his middle claws and reaches down between the two of you. He stole the doctor's phone. He watched enough tv to know that cell phones hold everything. Some of the videos on it showed him how to play with that bundle of nerves.
"What the…Oh….ah..ah..ah…yesss," you moan, wrapping your legs around him. You feel his calloused fingertips rubbing your bud, and you almost come undone. You take such good care of him that he must show you how much he loves you. Your pussy squeezing, begging him to knot you. He feels feral as his hips start to stutter as he bucks his hips in a blur.
"Mine…. mine…mine….my mommy," he snarled, the damn of desire in him broke, making mommy one with him in his sweet release. A rush of blood to his knot makes him light-headed you feel so good. His seed is implanting deep in your pulsing channel, milking as he felt each passing spurt be pulled from him. He wanted to pump into you more. You babble in pain, writhing, toes curling and digging into his boney ass. You know he knots but was hoping to squirm away from him. You grit your teeth because you feel impossibly full. You scream and smack him while he grinds his knot in you. He hasn't stopped yet.
"No! Bad boy! Stop," You shout. He gently rubs your clit with intensity and yanks at his knot with a harsh grind. Growling as he feels you getting wetter and constricting on him. To him, it felt amazing, as you trembled under him and cried. He feels your crest on his length, cumming hard, bliss crashing over you, arching up to him.
"Oh FUCK! I-I-I just came so hard my whole body aches. You bad fucking boy," you whimper with no bite in your words. He pulls his hand away, covered in your juices. He licks you clean off his hand. He lifted enough to look at where you are connected. He can see a light twitching as his cock spurt more cum in you. His heart swells like the soft bulge he created. You look beautiful with him buried in you.
"Love, mommy," he purrs. He lays on top of you and bites your neck gently to keep you in place with his sharp teeth. Humming around your flesh for reassurance until his knot softens. You kiss him and play with his soft hair. He pulls from you with a wet lewd suction. It's not until later You are walking back to the house over a short flight you think you love him.
He wanted to star gaze with you before entering the invaded house. Wrapping his wings and arms around you, careful with his hands. It dawns on you that he could have easily killed you when fingering you. It makes you anxious. If you do find his family, will they protect him?
A small part of Shigaraki hopes there is a sesame street on how to be a good daddy. His father was not a good example. When they entered the house, Dr. Tanaka smelled annoyed.
"Yes. I understand. No, sir. I can't say. I don't know yet. Yep. I will inform her," she said, hanging up her cell phone and rubbing her temples. Taking a step towards them and then stumbling back, "I have some bad news. Holy fuck. You two reek of sex. It smells like an iguana tank."
Whatever the flat-chested female said upset his mommy. He flared at her, wings wide and threatening. Mommy yelled no, but she needed to be protected. In this, he knows better than her. The vet held up a can. He wanted to laugh at the foolishness. She sprayed him in the face. The response was immediate. He fell to the ground and rolled around, screeching.
"No. Bad Shigaraki," the vet said calmly.
"What did you do?" you asked. Shigaraki clung to your legs and rubbed his eyes against your dress.
"I used a bug repellant. Don't worry. I made sure it won't kill him. We need something to train him. I found my cell phone in his nest. Anyways, we are in a bit of trouble. Kai wants to see you right away. He found out I was shutting down my practice for a few years. He is way too curious about Shigaraki. I thought we could say it's a Liger or some shit. But you will have to see him. I'm sorry," Dr. Tanaka said.
When the burning stopped, he hissed at her, and she raised the can again and gave him a firm no. He hid behind mommy. You coddled him because he was being so sweet for a change. It hit him like lightning, he knows who the female reminds him of. He pointed a claw at her.
"Father," he rasped.
"I'll take it if that means he will stop trying to kill me," Dr. Tanaka said. You are biting your lip and trembling.
"What if I don't go?" you ask quietly. Tanaka shook her head with a grim expression.
"He will come here to kill all of us. You do not stand up, Kai. It will be ok. Kai is a germaphobe. Pretending to have a cold will delay him, but you pay the piper at some point. I promise you. Visit him, and we will never have to deal with him again. I will watch Shigaraki while you're gone," Tanaka says, watching Shigaraki cautiously sniff at her.
This one can teach him to be a father. He bumped his head against her arm quickly before running upstairs to hide from new father until mommy came to bed. He pulls out the cell phone and chirps.
It was easy taking it from his new father.
Chapter 3
475 notes · View notes
blorbologist · 1 year
Text
Cat's Cradle, Chapter 14
Ch1 ... Ch13
The kittens, now old enough to go without food for a little more time, are somehow even more of a torment on Percy’s nerves than they were before. 
“Vex!” he calls, shrill. “We have fugitives!”
“They’ve started learning to walk, Percy,” she tosses back. From the kitchen, given how she echoes. “Of course they’ve escaped. They can’t get far.”
“Velcro was in the middle of the floor!”
He does not have to hear her sigh to know she makes it. He assumes she pads down the hall, slips over the babygate silent as ever, because she appears in the doorway. Finds him sitting on the floor with his convict in his lap, the tiny blue tom wiggling viciously as he tries to resume his grand exploration of the room. 
Percy, in turn, is greeted with Vex in an apron. Which is half of why he avoided cooking with her to instead give the kittens supper, because good gods is it a cute look on her. The kiss the chef reads like an invitation, or an instruction manual. A recipe for disaster. 
“We’ll need a box,” he declares around the lump in his throat, plopping Velcro back in the basket. Or trying to - the kitten clings, wailing in outrage, until Percival relents and lets it sit in the crook of his leg. Corralled, for now. 
“Or a playpen,” Vex muses, tapping the spatula to her lips. Her eyes flit to something, not Percy but past him, and she grins. “I’ll leave you to figure that out yourself. I’m sure you can manage, my clever man.”
She leaves him fumbling long enough for Velcro and Spanner to stumble out and mewl in surprise at how cool the floor is. 
--
With a soft playpen set up, Percy feels a lot better about leaving the kittens unsupervised, even if only for short bursts. 
Such as an impromptu brunch with friends. It is a rare stroke of luck, for time off to line up so adeptly. Perhaps easier, without Vax’ildan’s graveyard shifts leaving him dead tired all day or Keyleth’s numerous projects tripping her up. Emptier, too.
“Okay,” Scanlan is saying, sipping loudly on a mimosa. “But you’re sure it’s alright? Kaylie says she hasn’t seen your truck at the workshop in, like, a week.”
“You have your daughter spying on him? Creepy.” Grog makes a show of scoffing, shoveling pancakes into his mouth. Despite the attention on him, he makes to swipe the french toast off Pike’s plate before she dissarms him with her own fork. 
“No - she’s just invested, alright? Won’t stop talking about that shitty day.” Scanlan shivers. “Not that I blame her - I’d be pretty fucked up, too.”
Pike hums in agreement. “Is the cat doing okay? You said her name was…?”
“Curio.” Percy takes a bracing sip of his coffee. “Recovering well from the surgery, seems eager to get out of her crate and stretch her legs. Those she has left, at least. I worry she will ruin the stitching if given that freedom, however.”
“Oy, here’s a thought-” “Manners.” Scanlan rolls his eyes, finishes chewing and swallows before continuing: ”Why don’t we stop by? I mean, you and Vex won’t shut up about these guys, and I don’t know about you guys but I could use some cute in my life. And chicks dig kitten pics.”
Percy hesitates.
So far, these kittens have been theirs. Vex’ahlia and Percival’s little charges, in their own little world. Sure, they had brought them to the vet, and Kaylie’s keen eye had saved Curio’s life. They certainly shared more than enough pictures and videos for all their friends to know many kittens by name. 
But there is something about inviting others into this little nest that has a part of him bristling.
Grog tilts his head. “I’d like to,” he admits. “Wouldn’t it be good for them to, like, meet more people? Help them get more specialized.”
“Socialized, Grog.” Pike pats his knee. 
Percy nudges Vex, who has been slipping into a food coma. She’s so exhausted it pains him to see. “Vex’ahlia, dear, what do you think?”
She stifles a yawn against her hand. “I don’t mind either way,” she admits. “If you guys do come over, though, keep it down - I think I’ll be having a nap, if that’s alright.”
Even the goliath of a man, all tattoos and muscle, seems to read the reluctance in Percy’s gaze. “I’ll be gentle with them,” he promises. “I can be real gentle with the little things.”
Percy sighs. Smiles. “That’s true, yes.” 
--
“When we said little, I didn’t think - woah,” Grog breathes, eyes blown wide and enraptured by every little hair on the kittens’ heads. He and Pike are both on their knees peering into the playpen. Bleary from their nap, the litter is content to wiggle and chirp. Even the one in Scanlan’s hands is well-behaved.
“Hah! Look - he’s spitting at me.”
Or perhaps not, but that’s a perfectly reasonable reaction to Scanlan. 
“She,” Percy corrects with a glance. 
“Ohh, I like them spicy.” He only evades getting an elbow in the gut when Pike stops herself, clearly remembering the precious cargo he holds. 
Having Scanlan for scale really puts into perspective just how small these kittens are - even in his hands they’re fragile, even without a tremor beneath them they wobble. Percy’s heart lurches in his chest when they move - but no, Scanlan’s just sitting more comfortably, with his back to the bed. 
He offers a finger from his free hand for greeting. The verdict is ‘disgusting, I hate it’ until he scratches under that impossibly small chin. “What a cutie patootie. What’s her name?” asks Scanlan.
Pike, peering now over his shoulder, glances between Percy and the kitten. “That’s Bauble, right?” She beams when he nods, pleased they remembered. 
“You can hold one, if you’d like,” Percy offers as Scanlan declares, “I’m gonna get Kaylie a kitten.”
“No - no, you’re not.” He swallows his snappy tone - half the kittens are sleeping, and so is Vex. “You can’t just give someone a lifelong commitment.”
Grog giggles - all head turn to find he’s stuck his hand in the playpen, where a curious Ratchet is clumsily batting at it while Screwdriver watches wide-eyed and hopelessly confused. 
“Ain’t that what happened to you?” says Grog. “With Kaylie?”
Scanlan rolls his eyes. “I was joking. Wasn’t I?” He rubs his nose into Bauble’s fur. “Oh, wow, she smells like cuteness! And kind of milky?”
Percy relaxes a little as Pike leans over to get a good sniff of kittendown too, scooting into Scanlan’s side for a better angle to coo and cuddle. 
That does bring up a thought he’s completely neglected up to date. The kittens are… goodness, not quite two weeks? Two more months and they’ll be old enough to adopt out. How in the hells is he going to find enough homes - good homes - for six kittens? And Curio, too. If matching a half-dozen cute, playful little cats will be a challenge, how will they possibly get someone willing to take on a disabled, probably traumatized adult cat? 
He can practically feel his blood pressure spike. Percy carefully leans over the edge of the playpen to pluck Screwdriver (still watching Grog’s hand with something like awe) and settle her in his lap. His hands are shaking, but so is she, so it’s fine. 
(What if they choose wrong? What if the owners can’t care for the needs of the shaky kittens? Gods, Screwdriver wobbles so much - what if she falls, what if they let her outside, what if -)
“Oop, gotta tinkle.” Percy’s hand jerks up to see Grog stand and dust off his hands. He coos when Ratched stumbles after him, mewling. “Aww, I’ll be back. Where’s the bathroom Percy?”
“It’s to the right, Buddies,” Pike says, delicately running her fingers from Bauble’s head to her little pointy tail. Scanlan’s eyes are on her, not the kitten, and he looks quite like the cat that got the cream.
“Thanks, Pikey!”
Screwdriver mimics his glance up at Grog, which - yeah, sweetheart, he is very big, hm? Percy makes sure to lavish her with extra pets for her bravery. There’s nothing to be scared of, it’s Grog. 
And then Percy remembers, and scrambles to his feet, clutching her to his chest.
“Wait! Don’t go in the-”
He hears the bars of Curio’s crate rattle from here and breaches the doorway just in time to see Grog sheepishly shut the door behind him.
“Guess I’ll hold it in,” he says.
62 notes · View notes
ladysomething · 12 days
Note
Oh my goodness thank you so much for such a detailed answer and for entertaining my long, rambling mess of an ask. I appreciate you and I LOVE learning more about your writing process. It’s so interesting to me and it makes me appreciate the fic even more knowing how much work and care you and SaiyanWitcher put into every chapter. I will ask again at the end of WYGIG to find out what foreshadowing moments you loved the most, I promise! And in the meantime I am so excited to see what things I’m right about and what things are gonna surprise me! (Also I think I’m already wrong about the Kelly thing because I forgot in ch2 that Charles said she didn’t have a mating bite, so my new prediction is that Max was helping Kelly escape from a bad situation and that Max’s mum was the one he saw go through mate withdrawal, but don’t tell me if I’m right! I’m living for the suspense!!)
And tiny details like the vase thing are truly my favourite thing. Idk, they just are that special something that makes a fic go from amazing to like, god-tier for me. And now since you said you love when people pick up on tiny details, here’s some others I noticed that I loved, just in case me noticing them can also bring you some joy.
Before the auction, Mattia touches his own face when referring to Charles’ muzzle in ch1 and Max gestures at his face similarly in ch2 when trying to get permission from Charles to remove the muzzle (and then the contrast of Mattia’s cruelty and Max’s gentleness that follows those similar actions is !!!!! so good !!) 
I loved how in ch1 when Charles is trying to mentally block out the auction, he focuses on pretending he’s back in his childhood apartment since that was a safe place for him, and then that’s the same place his dreamworld is based on when we see it in ch3!
Charles self soothing by stroking his teddy in ch2 and by stroking the sheets in his nest the same way in ch4 broke my heart a lil.
And Charles described Max’s scent as most collecting on petals of daffodils and jasmine when Max was trying to calm him down in ch3 and then max describes Charles’ scent as strawberries and jasmine in ch4. Love the subtle overlap, those boys are meant to be (even if it’s a Rough Start)!!!
This ask is now longer than my first outrageously long ask, I am so so sorry. And I don’t even have a question so def don’t feel obligated to reply to this one LOL. But I have so much love for your writing and so appreciate your willingness to answer my (and everyone else’s) questions about your writing and this story!!
anon, I need you to understand that I've had a really difficult week writing WYGIG. I know exactly what has to to happen, and I'm so excited for the next chapter, and yet I am struggling to get words down on the paper.
Your previous ask, and now this one, are so immeasurably delightful to me and they are the exact type of thing I needed to hear. I don't know if you'll ever be able to understand just how meaningful the things you've said are.
I honestly don't think I even have the words to thank you for your extremely kind and thoughtful asks, so instead I'm giving you what is an extremely meagre offering in return: a snippet from chapter 5.
It's below the cut, for anybody who doesn't want the spoilers.
“Is this your Dreyma Ver-öld?” 
Charles’ fingers slip on the keys, discordant noise filling the air. He whips around on the seat, horror filling him as he sees Max standing in the middle of the living room, dripping water everywhere and looking around curiously. 
“You,” Charles seethes. “What are you doing here?” 
But he already knows the answer, of course. Max claimed him, so just like every other part of his life, Max gets access to this, too. At least he seems to have woken up outside, where it’s still pouring rain. At least there are small justices. 
“Mine doesn’t look like this,” Max says, ignoring the question entirely. 
Charles wouldn’t have any idea what Max’s Dream World might look like. He’ll never get to see it, because to see it he’d have to claim Max back. No, instead, Charles is doomed to a life giving everything to Max and getting nothing in return. 
“Was this your home?” 
Charles grits his teeth and turns back around to his piano, stubbornly refusing to answer. 
“What was the shed outside?” Max asks a few moments later. “I tried to go in, but—” 
“You can’t go in there,” Charles snaps, shoulders hunched. He doesn’t care how confrontational he sounds—he’d rather die than let Max near the memories locked in that shed.
15 notes · View notes
one-way-dream · 11 months
Text
The King's Shadow - Ch. 3
Rating: General
Words: 4900+ (9600+ Total)
Media: Sonic the Hedgehog, Sonic and the Black Knight
Pairing: Sonic/Lancelot (Sonic/Shadow)
Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Developing Feelings, Pining, Alternate Universe - Medieval (Check AO3 for any tag changes!)
Warnings: Canon-typical violence
Chapter: 3/3
Link to the original work
AO3 Summary/Excerpt:
The other’s embarrassment slowly melted away into a resigned sigh, before turning into a smile; mischievous in appearance, but nothing short of putting the sun’s radiance to shame. And then Lancelot truly felt the carefree and trusting weight, the sheer warmth of the newly crowned king’s hand in his own.
And he knew more than ever that his life now belonged to him.
Author's Notes:
cheesus christ i think this is the first time i've ever finished a multichapter fic…….. a short one but multichapter nontheless….. dang
ANYWAY i hope you enjoy :] hope you heeded the warning at the end of ch1
THANK YOU FOR READING I HOPE YOU ENJOY (also thank you for 150+ kudos on ao3 that is WILD) ❤❤❤
Previous/Next
Sonic put his quill pen down with a sigh, before quickly catching his inky mistake of leaving the near-dripping calamus exposed on the expensive desk as he scrambled to place it back in the inkwell. 
He leaned back into his extravagantly lush and velvety chair and stared up at the expanse of the accented wall, flourishing with delicate patterns and complemented by rich silk fabric in reds, blues, and golds. While he hadn’t tested it out for himself, the bedroom looked large enough for him to do laps in probably— no, definitely. Just by eyeballing the area, it was more than likely twice as large as Tails’ workshop.
At that name, the pang in his chest came back, harsher than ever before.
Sonic sighed again heavily, lacing his fingers behind his head and running his eyes up the wall until they hit the ceiling, right at the giant gunmetal-steel chandelier that seemed larger than his whole body. A sense of unease crawled through him every time he entered his bedroom; it was the only place where the other knights or Merlina weren’t allowed to visit, and thus, the loneliest place in the entire kingdom.
It was like the room was trying to swallow him whole; like it knew that he didn’t belong there, that he was an intruder bestowed with riches that didn’t belong to him – tearing out pages from the book of legends and rewriting himself into it.
He always believed in deciding his own fate, but… he couldn’t decide for the others unless they wanted it too. He couldn't change the course of their world like that just on a whim. Sonic smiles a little melancholy to himself, thinking about how that line of thinking was probably the most king-like thing he’s done thus far. After all, it wasn’t always about fighting bad guys around these parts, was it?
Even if the others did consent to his continued ruling, now he had a choice – to go back to his own time, to Shadow and the others, and let the people of this world decide their destiny, or he could stay with the kingdom, with Lancelot.
As he looked down at the two letters on his desk, one stamped with red and the other with gold wax, he knew his answer. A pressed violet rested soundly in one letter, while commands almost befitting of his soon-to-be-lost title as a king lay in the other.
Sonic took in a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut.
His gut feeling wouldn't let him down.
-x-
King Sonic had not made his nest in Avalon for very long, and yet Lancelot felt his presence permeate every inch of their lives with relative ease, making a friend out of everyone he possibly could, regardless of whether they were a peasant or noble.
Each and every townsman had felt it too, Lancelot could tell by their charmed expressions as he accompanied the king on his rounds. He’d insisted on travelling alone, putting his faith in Caliburn should anything take a turn for the worst, but his advisors were persistent. However, when Lancelot’s company was suggested to him, he was surprisingly quick to give in; one could even say that his eyes lit up, though the knight knew not to be so hopeful as to expect the king to enjoy his company above the rest. He could only hope that he didn’t greatly mind Lancelot cherishing their time together. 
Even the nobles that had once upturned their noses at the new king, relented to the fact that he was indeed unique – however, that came with a hesitancy, deciding whether or not this new king would be good for their kingdom would be judged in due time, but for now, Lancelot could breathe easy knowing they trusted him for the time being.
But still… what if the rumours were true?
Lancelot’s stomach churned at the mere thought.
The two of them passed a quaint little shop at the far end of the town’s main street, something of a food and trinket vendor that rotated their inventory every other week. They’d been struggling a lot with thieves in the past month or so, but when word got around to the king, he’d rounded up the knights to tighten up the security within the town. And then just like that, those petty thieves were a mere tale of the past.
Much like King Sonic may one day be, Lancelot thought to himself, heart sinking in his chest.
He caught a glimpse of the shop owner standing behind a stand full to the brim with apples; some spotted and bruised, but otherwise perfectly edible and polished with care. Lancelot watches with a newfound fascination as the owner exchanges a bag of seasonal berries for a small bag of what he assumed was coin.
Lancelot curiously fished around the small brown bag secured around his waist, hoping for at least a few shillings to leave behind as they walked past.
The king however, had no intention of simply passing by. He silently gave the knight the sign to wait for the exchange to finish entirely before beelining for the shop with an eager wave. Lancelot glanced to his side, quietly smiling at his king and his ever-so charitable heart of gold.
“Your highness!” The shop owner beams at the approaching hedgehog, “How do you do?”
“Not bad, not bad! I’m happy to see you doing well. Have those thieves come back?” Sonic grinned cheekily, happier and more relieved than ever to hear the shop owner be so easy going about his presence, “I wouldn’t mind giving ‘em a personal message, if ya know what I mean.”
The owner pauses for a moment at the king’s words, a perplexed expression just barely lining the features of their face as they helplessly glanced at the knight and then back at Sonic – it’s a look Lancelot knows far too well. After all, he too was guilty of bearing such an expression at Sonic’s unusual speech mannerisms at the beginning. But they seemed to adjust quickly enough, perking up again with a light laugh as they shook their head, “I think I understand, sire, but there’s no need; there hasn’t been a single robbery ever since you assigned guards to patrol the town.”
Sonic smiles, giving a thumbs up that Lancelot wasn’t sure the other understood, but took politely anyway, “Good to hear it, buddy! Keep up the good work! Oh, and here—”
He fishes through his own mostly-empty bag, frowning when he feels only one coin. He pulls out a single silver penny and lays it on the counter, “Really sorry this is all I had on me. I don’t want anything; it’s just my way of saying good luck. I think silver means good luck, anyway!”
They look back at the king, at a slight loss for words at the sudden donation before Lancelot strolls up to the king’s side and neatly places a stack of coins on the table as well. Sonic’s expression changes from surprised to pleased as he shoots him a wide smile from the side, and Lancelot makes the mistake of looking right at him. He curses himself for being drawn into his gaze, distracted, while they were in the presence of another. The knight swallows thickly and pulls away, face heating up despite not being under the harsh sunlight anymore.
It was… strange how it was sunny much more often. Or maybe it was Lancelot’s imagination.
“T-thank you… it’s truly a miracle that a king like you has come to rule our kingdom, but…” They look away, a forlorn expression on their face. Lancelot can’t fight off the icy dread nipping at his heart, his mind begging away the premonition to no avail, “Forgive me if this isn’t my place, but… I have heard rumours that you will be heading back to your world some time?”
The anxiety hits him full force once the question lands, gauntlet covered hands curling into fists at his side. He knows he can’t bear to look at the king now. Not now. But… like always, he still can’t find himself looking away from the other.
Except the flash of regret, – of sorrow and melancholy, –  in Sonic’s eyes devastates him like nothing else.
And it’s only for a moment, and not a moment longer, but it’s enough for Lancelot to understand.
“Yes, I—” He clears his throat, smiles as he scratches his head nervously, “The royal wizard, Merlina, has found a way for me to get back home.”
“I see… how much time do you have left, sire?” Lancelot almost couldn’t hear the owner’s voice over the sound of his own heartbeat.
“…I will be leaving in three days.”
For a moment, Lancelot feels nothing. Almost as if he’d been expecting it since the very moment he laid eyes on the king; but that couldn’t be true – deep down he knew that he wanted to serve King Sonic until the end of his days, and no one else. Until his final breath. Until crimson spilled and met with the soil beneath his feet in the name of honour, or until his old age finally put his battle-worn bones to rest.
But no thoughts of a peaceful or honourable death could put his mind to ease when the anguish suddenly poured in, as if the floodgates had shattered all at once.
He didn’t know what to think. What could he think when he couldn’t even figure out the source of his pain, let alone put a name to it? All he knew was that his chest hurt unbearably, and that he couldn’t bear to let go of someone like Sonic the Hedgehog.
“—H-hey, are you okay?!”
When the world came back into focus, he found both the shop owner and the king looking back at him with worried looks on their faces. Those wondrous, lively eyes so full of worry for him. For him.
Suddenly, he was overcome with the urge to laugh. Had he become so delusional to think that his feelings ever really mattered to begin with?
As a knight, he had a responsibility. And surely, as a mortal hedgehog, he had a heart. He knew well enough that he could not carry both in his hands, and so he chose to be a knight until the very end, just as he’d promised on that fateful day that he took the king’s hand and swore his life to him.   
“I’m… quite alright, my liege.”
Lancelot looked back at Sonic with all of his courage, and smiled at him with every bit of strength he could muster.
The king then sighs, face pulling into something almost irritated. Amidst the new surge of fear, Lancelot suddenly finds his wrist captured by the other as he’s pulled into a dark and damp alleyway near the back of the town, ignoring the questioning looks from the other townspeople.
He could barely make out the king’s face in the dim light from the side, but really, it was probably better this way. Although, who was he kidding? He’d already memorised his face down to the small, healed nick by the bridge of his nose that Sonic himself probably hadn’t noticed.
The king relented his grip on Lancelot’s quivering wrist, as they both stood to face each other, their backs to the walls. He huffs, crossing his arms and tapping his foot impatiently, “Okay, what’s up?”
“P-pardon?”
“I mean—” Sonic pinches the bridge of his nose, “What’s the matter? What happened? Are you not feeling well or somethin’?”
“I’m… fine, sire—”
He clicked his tongue and sighed, “Take off your helmet; it’s easier to talk to you face-to-face.”
Lancelot stiffened. He… didn’t usually take it off while outside – it made it easier to obscure his face and somehow, he just felt more comfortable having it down during patrols. But it was rare to hear the other truly ask something of him, and so he was in no position to decline as a knight serving under him. Still, before he could stop himself, he spoke, “Is that a command, sire?”
A look of hesitation flashes over Sonic’s features, opening and closing his mouth before finally sighing, letting his arms fall to the side, “I… no, it’s not. I just wanted to—” He shakes his head, looking away a little embarrassed, “Never mind, forget it.”
There’s a careful beat of silence between them.
“…Is this because I didn’t tell you first?”
The shock that ran through Lancelot’s body was vicious, heart stopping at his words. Yet he shakes his head, even though he was far from incorrect in his judgement of Lancelot. Pathetic, pathetic Lancelot.
“It isn’t like it was my right to know.” He tries to steady his voice, despite the pin-pricking sensation in his chest, “It… doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter. You’re my right-hand man. You’re— you’re the person closest to me in this whole kingdom and I…” Sonic stops himself, unaware of the way Lancelot’s heart was caught in his throat, “I wanted to tell you first. That’s why I brought you out today. I didn’t mean for you to find out like this…”
Lancelot finally breathes, the tightness in his chest alleviating a little at the king’s reassuring words. Even if he weren’t his king, Lancelot would trust and respect him all the same; he’d earned that much all on his own. And with that, he loosens the sides of his visor, sliding it all off slowly as his red and black quills trickled out. Sonic looked on with surprise, shoving down yet another pang of nostalgia and longing as he saw the other as he was, stunning ruby eyes, quiet honesty, and awe-inspiring boldness in action. Lancelot set his visor on top of an old crate pushed against the grey stone wall, before setting his sights back on the king, similarly ignoring the way his heart rate spiked at the way Sonic had his eyes set on him.
Slowly his expression falls into something a little more downcast, ears drooping as he breathes out deeply.
“I’m sorry, Lancelot. You deserve better than this.”
This time, Sonic could see how Lancelot’s eyes widened at the words, and his heart ached in wonder of how much he’d wordlessly endured until now. It must not have been easy for him, serving under such a clueless and carefree king right after dealing with the abuses of a corrupt one.
But in Lancelot’s eyes, all he could think about was the fact that someone cared enough to that extent; to reach out a hand to him in battle even when he was covered in mud and grime, to laugh with him at small things, share a meal with him, to race with him against the sweeping winds that spoke to him tales of freedom and adventure, to walk him to his quarters at the end of each wonderful and star-speckled eve. He couldn’t possibly, reasonably, ask for more.
Yet, Lancelot couldn’t help but still be mysteriously drawn into him, almost like it was magnetic.
Could he really be blamed?  
“Is, uh… is there something on my face?”
Lancelot doesn’t catch the words at first, far too lost in thought. Too lost in Sonic. Anxiety doesn’t line his breaths anymore, just for a moment, because all he can think about is deep blue and emerald. All he can think about is how he wants to reach out and touch him, make him real – as if he, too, would disintegrate before his eyes like an illusion, like the fallen King Arthur.
But Sonic wasn’t like that.
Even if he would no longer be a part of this world in a few short days, he’d never give in or fade out, stubborn as he is. He’d never disappear like that, would he?
He was all courage and stupidly charming wit and a true follower of his own heart. And perhaps that was why he had such a hold over Lancelot’s own. He was forever burned into their lives, into their memories, regardless of whether he was there to lead them as king or not.
And so he reached out, heart pounding in his chest.
“W-woah,” Sonic laughed nervously as he watched Lancelot’s hand grow closer, “Lance, what are you…?”
“What am I…?”
He paused, mind fully going blank for the first time in his life.
“Oh. There’s… ah, dirt, on your left cheek.” Lancelot fibbed as he scrabbled to pull out a handkerchief, ice running through his veins despite the way his face burned all the way up to his ears. He willed his hands to stop shaking with all his might, and brought his hand up to the other’s cheek, ignoring the wide-eyed and flustered expression the other wore, “M-may I?”
Sonic slowly nodded, unblinking as the soft cotton of Maria’s handmade handkerchief brushed his cheek. Lancelot had hoped that he bought the lie, because he didn’t know what to do if he didn’t.
He doesn’t even know what to make of his own actions, after all.
His strokes are a feather light touch on short-hair peach fur that bloomed a delightful rosy tint that Lancelot would have savoured any other time. But right now, all he could do was hold his breath and hope that the other wouldn’t catch the way he couldn’t take his eyes off of him.
With his heart in his throat, Lancelot shakily breathed out a little carelessly, making the king’s shoulders flinch at the warmth as his eyelids fluttered shut. Despite that, he hadn’t said a word about all this. The knight finally pulled away and tucked his handkerchief back in his bag, leaning until his spines met the wall. It’s only then that he realises that they met in the middle, far closer than they needed to be, and yet King Sonic still hadn’t pulled back.
He looked at the ground, eyes stinging from embarrassment. The king truly is… a wonderful person.
And Lancelot couldn’t begin to think of how despicable he himself truly was.
On the way back, they walked in silence, tension too thick to cut through with their usual easy conversation, which only pained Lancelot more knowing how little time he had left to cherish their moments together. But right now, he couldn’t fathom thinking about anything but their time in the alleyway.
Shame burned like acid inside of him.
Why… had Lancelot done that? Why couldn’t he pull away like always? He knew better than to suspect the king of using witchcraft like he did before – he just wasn’t that kind of dishonest person, and he simply wanted something then he knew that Lancelot would lay down his life for him at his word. If anything, Lancelot was at fault for doing something as disgraceful as touching the king like that, but…
More importantly…
…Why was Sonic looking at him like that?
-x-
Lancelot slides a sealed letter under Gawain’s door, stepping away just in case the door swings open. Despite him feeling apologetic, he wasn’t keen on having a face-to-face conversation, especially not after what happened the last time he tried having one.
He made his way through the winding hallways, footsteps muffled by the crimson carpet laid out before him that seemed to run endlessly. The walls were a decadent light cream, framed portraits of gold lining the walls every fifty or so metres. Lancelot had spent enough time in the castle to count just how many there were; he knew this castle like the back of his hand.
At the end of the hallway, he finds one of the guards with a letter in his hand, carefully wrapped and tied with a dark blue string that would’ve looked black to anyone else. He nods to the guard as he hands over the letter to Lancelot, although the knight has a feeling he knows where it’s from and what it’s about.
Lancelot unties the letter, the string undoing itself rather gracefully with one swift but careful tug. He reads its contents once, and then again, just to really burn it into his memory. It was King Sonic’s handwriting after all, and at this point, what did he have to lose?
A heavy feeling settles into his gut, contrasting the steady beat of his heart pounding. He couldn’t let up now – he couldn’t be afraid.    
He swallows dryly, although it does nothing to clear the lump in his throat. Both reading the letter and saying it in his mind made it real, as much as he didn’t want it to be real; today really was the final day.
Lancelot had humbly requested the king’s presence; a request that defied everything he had been taught up until his knighting. But… King Sonic was a strange one; full of life and humour and charisma, full enough that he had no such room for attachment to formalities. Each time he’d been addressed as king, there was a hint of shyness that was easily overtaken by his usual demeanour not a moment later, followed by words along the lines of, “Just call me Sonic!”.
If this had to be his last day, then Lancelot would adhere to a balance for his sake, even if it wasn’t commanded of him. He was such an unusual king, uprooting all that they’d known and creating a pact uniquely his own; to follow your heart, so that you may do good for yourself and those around you.
Any other king, Lancelot might’ve questioned those words. But King Sonic had just as much strength as he did grace and imperfections, and that made him all the more beloved to his kingdom.
He held a fondness for his king that he’d never felt for the fallen King Arthur. A fondness that feels familiar but different in many ways from his sister. A fondness that he still didn’t understand to this day.
Try as he might do his best to defend Arthur’s honour as a king, he could die for his sake, but he could never say that he would weep for him, even if he was ever good.
But… King Sonic…
He was different. He was always different.
Lancelot steps out the castle gates, Arondight tucked into its sheath by his hip and a showy confidence in each step that he wished he truly possessed. It was all just a performance; no one could begin to gauge the ache from the gaping hole in his chest as he pushed through the crowds of townsmen, gaze focused on the violet fields at far reaches of the grassy plains, right where the horizon kissed the outskirts of Camelot.
As soon as Lancelot’s shoes touched the grass at the end of the stone path, he took off at full speed. He couldn’t bear it anymore – he couldn’t bear to waste a second longer away from the king. Their king, his king, even if he could no longer remain as such. But only Lancelot would know how much he meant to him, and maybe it should simply stay that way.
The deep woods aren’t as thick or treacherous as they usually are, and it’s only after a moment that Lancelot notices the dirt path leading out. He smiled to himself as he followed it, knowing full well that the only person who could do something like running back and forth enough times to make a permanent path in the forest would be the fastest thing alive, Sonic the Hedgehog.
At the end of the clearing, he sees him, armour-free and vivid blue against the violet-spotted grass, and it takes every ounce of self control in Lancelot to not trip up over himself at the sight of the king. Even besides being undignified, he couldn’t bear to think of how he’d feel if Sonic saw and tried to help him up. He still couldn’t forget the lingering feeling of Sonic’s hand brushing against his arm from days past.
And oh, how he would miss it dearly.
When the king turns around, his expression brightens tenfold. Lancelot can’t even fight off his own smile as he approaches the other, heart thrumming against his ribcage like butterfly wings batting wildly. 
“You came.” Sonic breathes out, closing the formal distance between them. 
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. After all, it is I who requested your presence.”
“Took you long enough to finally start making demands of me.” He laughed lightly, toothy smile as charming and heart warming as always, “Too bad that… it's the last day.”
A silence treads between them; questions, hundreds of them probably, lingered in the space between whiffs of fragrant flowers and sun-kissed fur. Yet only one honest query made it past Lancelot’s lips.
“Sire…” He starts hesitantly, clearing his throat before Sonic catches onto the tremble of it, “Forgive me but, is this really what you wish?”
“I…” Sonic stops himself, shakes his head as if he can’t make himself say what he truly wants to. Lancelot wishes he would. “It's like I said, everything has its end. Every adventure has its end. I’ll… be leaving to see Merlina after this – I just wanted to see you first.”
Lancelot stops breathing for a moment as Sonic pulls out two letters from his quills, a flash of vulnerability across his expression that he just barely caught.
“This is for the next person who pulls out Caliburn,” He smiles at Lancelot though it doesn’t reach his eyes, handing him one of the letters before pulling out the letter with the gold stamp and placing it firmly in his hand, overlapping his own, “And this is for you. Please… don’t read it until later, okay?”
And before another word could be uttered from the knight, he was held in a sudden embrace, Lancelot’s body stiffening from the contact but melting into the touch within moments all the same. There was just something different about him, something he couldn’t place his finger on quite yet – something he should have been able to figure out as he felt the king’s heart race against his own bare chest.
Sonic pulled back hastily, “I couldn’t do that to you. I couldn’t do that to my… Shadow.”
“Your… shadow?” Lancelot wondered why he was referring to him with that old name again. He hadn’t heard it since they first met, so why now?
There was a fond, but melancholy look on his face, as though his eyes were searching for something beyond Lancelot.
Something, or someone, just was great as the king was.
“Yeah.” And there was that smile. “My shadow.”
This time, he looked straight at Lancelot; emerald eyes boring into his, with a voice that was drenched in a longing sadness he’d never imagined the king would bear within him. A burden Lancelot so desperately wanted to bear, so that he may alleviate his troubles. Anything to cease his suffering.
But something within him cried out, as if warning him that learning the truth behind those words would undoubtedly crush him.
“It is alright, your majesty…” Lancelot pulled farther away from his touch, already feeling the cool air creep in absence of the other’s warmth. But that was quite alright, because the cold was still familiar enough. “I think I understand.”
And then he heard the king’s breath hitch.
Till the end, he was certain; his life belonged to him.
Even as he kneeled, as he’d done so many a time before, no one’s presence filled his soul so overwhelmingly. Nor his heart so deeply.
Lancelot reached out his hand to hold the king’s in his own, just as he’d done during his inauguration. Feeling the wind begin to settle, he felt King Sonic’s hand gently slip into his with care.
He hung his head, hearing his very own heart pounding in a way he didn’t know what to make of. And over the sound of the howling wind, he heard the words…
“Thank you…” A beat of silence between them as the world stood still for just a heartbeat, “Remember that your destiny is in your hands, but… someone will come for you. I promise, Lance.”
A sharp chill ran down Lancelot’s spine as Sonic squeezed and then carefully pulled his hand away; something about his tone, the uncharacteristic vulnerability behind it, made him look up to face the king against his better judgement.
Just like before, he was gone without a trace. Without another word. 
And so Lancelot thought hard to himself, emotions running high while he remained rooted on the spot, as to what everything could mean.
Whether these feelings were ones meant between the strongest of kings and the most loyal of his knights.
Whether such ideals even applied to a king such as Sonic, who had no desire to adhere to a set-in-stone knight’s code, and would rather follow his heart.
Or whether this is what it meant to truly follow his heart. To know affection so deep, a pull stronger than what Gawain knew as honour, and what Percival knew as duty. Far stronger than what Lancelot knew as loyalty.
The blow of reality coursed through him with such a crushing force that it would only be described as heartache. Because even if that rang true, it would not be until he was gone like the wind, that Lancelot realised he had been in love with the wind itself. 
It was always destined to be a fruitless endeavour, he thought as he felt his heart fall to endless depths in his despair, and as his vision began to blur.
After all, he was a shadow of the flame that burned the brightest.
And one that went out just as quickly.
35 notes · View notes
sadisticaltarts · 3 months
Text
Of Monsters and Men, Ch7
Notes:
new chapter, yay! looking back I realized its been nearly a year now since I first posted it, which is just a bit wtf. I actually outlined! Lets see if it does anything! I thrive on praise, so....feed me? Bit of lore keeping: The Braa is a river spanning the Kestrel Mountains to the North Sea. These mountains are the border between Redania and Kaedwan (where Kaer Morhen is located) Huldra is the cow-tailed patron of livestock, feasting, and wellbeing. A real party animal,lol. Henfors is the capital city of the region named the same, split into four quarters and some outskirt settlements. Its built around a waterfall that had previously stymied trade,with high wall along its canals to prevent invasions
Ch1 / Ch2 / Ch3 / Ch4 / Ch5 / Ch6 / Ch7 / Ao3
Tumblr media
Chapter Seven
The days passed, weeks turning into months, and they began establishing a little life. 
With little fanfare, the house became their new operations center. Dustin claimed his side of the room, which he and Steffan shared quite decidedly.
For all his grumbling about lacking the proper materials and lamenting the loss of specific texts, Dustin thrived with the uninterrupted time to tinker and experiment to his heart's content. He'd hardly complain when he had to muck out the lean-to or fetch goods from the market, especially once allowed to return to the keep.
There had been no real talk of formally returning to Kaer Morhen. Between the damage wrought and the suffocating memories, it was all but uninhabitable for extended periods. 
After the first week and the initial success of his exploratory return, Hopper grudgingly allowed Steve and Dustin to make occasional treks back to the keep and salvage what they could. 
Soon, the little garden plot boasted a fair yield of vegetables and herbs to supplement their living. Meals were often shared at the Inn, but Steffan provided at least one under their roof instead of leaning too heavily on Benny's generosity.
He'd often be found, if not tending the garden or Beam, working alongside Benny. Observing, he noted the little twists and tricks the man made to his daily offerings and how he managed the different guests without causing an additional fuss.
All told, Steve could easily let this be his routine forevermore. He'd never regretted becoming a Witcher, though honestly, it was all he had ever known, so he had little to compare it to until now.
Even after they had been living this new life for close to half a year,  it was easy to imagine taking over the Inn after Benny. The man had even begun to make broad hints to see how that thought would land, well out of earshot of Hopper, who would shoot it down instantly. 
The man himself hadn't stayed. As soon as the keep was cleared to the boys, he began making regular treks out of the village, seeking the Path. He was gone several days to a fortnight each time as he looked to complete contracts and glean what knowledge he could about the happenings in the world.
They'd never fully gotten an answer as to why or even who had attacked Kaer Morhen. In the pragmatic nature of a man who'd started over too many times, Hopper was inclined to leave that particular nest undisturbed. 
It was not to be, however; the world was far from a state that could survive without the interference of Witchers.
Steve himself could no longer deny the Path. As much as he would like to assume the quiet life, it was not to be. Witchers were meant to be the barrier between monsters and men, not bake bread. With a heavier heart than he would admit, Steve began staggering his treks outward between Hoppers. 
They would both be out if they still had the Keep, but neither wanted to risk Dustin or the town by leaving him unsupervised for any extended time. Eventually, he was able to get Hopper to stay in town more, citing the aforementioned peril of an un-monitored Dustin and perhaps teasing a bit about Joyce, a woman around Hopper's age, appearance-wise at least, who ran a market stall and got visibly flustered whenever he came by.
They made the Keep a meager headquarters; it was still too far damaged for continual habitation, but they could use it for small camps and allow anyone following them to lose the scent of their actual home. 
So it was left now to Steve alone to walk the Path and seek out the terrible beasts that preyed upon humanity. The first time he'd gone out, he'd been shocked at the reception he'd received, not expecting such abuse to be aimed towards him.
Something or someone had been attacking traders as they traversed the Braa, seeking to peddle their wares in the regional capital, Hengfors. Most of the attacks had happened between Crinfrid and the outskirt quarters of the city, but the last had taken place too close for civil comforts in Little Aerdrin.  
If they had stayed more towards Crinfrid, a city known mainly for its grease exports and dark dealings, it likely would have been chalked up to more of the same and not given much more note.
However, the latest incident claimed the life of Carol, the daughter of one of the Huldra priests on the journey back from visiting friends upriver in Barefield.
Grief-stricken, he had asked for justice in the next round of ministering and penned a notice to the temple board offering blessings and coins to anyone who could bring the perpetrator head. 
That had led to an additional loss of three men, eager for the gold and clueless about the danger they faced. 
Steve immediately knew it was a drowner as soon as he'd gotten wind of the request. Those slimy creatures lurked in the wet environment of rivers and even sewers. The monsters were drowned men, returned to inflict the same manner of death on others for little reason other than to share the torment of their death.
They were among the weakest to take on, only really posing trouble to a Witcher if in large groups. Steve was excited to start his first contract, and he'drode into the town in perhaps slightly higher spirits than appropriate.
Little Aedrin was adjacent to the Craftman's quarters and had been originally settled by many craft workers and families and so boasted a modest market and would offer Steve a prime opportunity to supplement Dustin’s makeshift alchemy lab with better options than they had scavenged or made.
He had encountered a few peasants on his journey in, and no sooner had they registered his distinctive appearance and the swords strapped to his back did they spit in his direction as he passed. Every face screwed up in fearful disgust, and he had one woman shield her child from him, as if the mere sight would infest and warp them into something terrible.
Hopper had always spoken of how the world viewed Witchers. As an unwanted but unfortunate tool required to survive, one they would break or discard in the hopes of never needing it again. He'd told them in no uncertain terms to always expect a contract to end with an attempt on their life from both the prey and the benefactor. 
Perhaps he should have taken it closer to heart; the man had never been one for great exaggeration. He’d say Hopper was prone to brutal reality rather than understatements. The man firmly believed, and rightly so, that open, unclouded eyes were a key factor in survival.
Directions had been given briefly, and no one was willing to spend more than the bare minimum interacting. The contract had been completed swiftly, Steve not wanting to linger where he was unwanted. 
Only his training allowed him to bear the disdain stoically. Although his heart flinched with every sneer aimed in his direction, he outwardly appeared unaffected. It worked in his favor, too, as they were handed out much quicker than the coin, and he did not even want to try and shop. He’d make it up to Dustin at a later date.
Tumblr media
Tag list is currently anyone who interacted with previous chapters, or recent fics. If wanting to be removed/added lmk.
@epiclazershark @nailbatwielder @writing-kiki @awholedamnmesstbh @melonmochi @hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere @hickoryhorneddevils @tippy---toes @berenwrites @eriquin @arvaas @grimweathers @useless-nb-bisexual @augustjustice @hezaaxdexangelous @dreamofbecoming
9 notes · View notes
finn-m-corvex · 5 months
Note
Trick or treat!!
HAN! TRICK OR TREAT! It's always lovely to see you and I'm so happy you popped by ^^
You've won: Mechanical Hearts ch1! I am still very much in a mood and it's the longest piece I have in the drafts, so here we are \(< - <)/
For First Master’'s sake, he was twenty-one years old. Shouldn't he have his shit together by now?
His anxiety settled like a stone in his stomach, and he had to fight twice as hard to make his body do literally anything. Throwing on his shirt, off-white with blue sleeves, Jay ran to his small as fuck bathroom that he shared with Cole to brush his teeth. The sight of his bed head made him want to cry; he had absolutely no time to fix it and it was wild.
Cursing his existence for only the sixth time that morning, Jay snatched up the blue beanie sitting on top of his rickety dresser, carefully covering his auburn curls so most of the rat’s nest was hidden away.
You would think that going to one of the best schools in the nation would mean that Jay had access to some never-ending fountain of money, but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Instead, he worked out of a run-down mechanic’s shop with his brother Cole, close enough to the campus for transportation purposes but still far enough away for him to get up early in the morning. He would never be able to afford to live on campus, especially if their parents kept buying up junkyards left right and center.
18 notes · View notes
deludedfantasy · 8 months
Text
Trimax Vol 6 Ch 1-3
These chapters were so!!!! The trauma continues, but it's so so good. Anyway, my brain has been very mushy these past few days, but some thoughts on the beginning of Vol 6.
Ch1
Trimax does this thing where it effortlessly goes from joking to being serious and it’s doing that right now in this conversation between Meryl and Wolfwood. Sometimes it’s almost painful because it feels like it’s the characters’ way of coping with the situation and it really shows here. Wolfwood is trying to give Meryl—who is traumatized and trying to deal with a lot of new revelations about her friend—some levity, an out from this dangerous situation she’s in, and it isn’t hitting quite right.
Also, I can’t believe that Wolfwood has no idea what Vash is (or at least he says so. I think he probably has some suspicions) but Meryl does. I keep coming back to this but it says a lot about Vash that he’s never the one to give his friends that information about himself. He’s very private, but also I think it’s caution and fear. How would they react to knowing that he isn’t human in the slightest? Will he be able to deal with it if they turn away from him in disgust?
There’s a great commentary going on about power and who gets to wield it. In a lawless world like Gunsmoke, your survival is determined by how much power you have and the best way to gain it is with a good gun. What do you do with that power? Do you use it for good or ill? To take what you want or protect what you have? How does it shape you? And who gets to have it? The contrast between the sheriff’s blind desire for a Marlon gun versus Meryl considering what having that kind of firepower does to her. And perhaps by extension, Vash.
I love, love, love getting more Meryl backstory. Never enough Meryl backstory.
Vash takes his training so seriously, always pushing himself to the brink, to be the best he can be and go above and beyond even that. If there’s one thing he has in spades, it’s commitment and determination. Like, I can’t imagine how much it would take to make your finger bleed from pulling a trigger so many times.
Interesting, Vash has new glasses! And they hide even more of his eyes. Now no one can see how he’s really feeling at all.
Knowing what she does about Vash now, Meryl wonders if he can still pull the trigger. The thing is, one way or another, he’s always had these memories, and despite everything he’s been through, he’s kept on going, kept on doing the tough things, the things that hurt him sometimes, because they were the right thing to do. Again, he’s determined.
DETERMINATION
Anyway, love how protective Wolfwood is of the Punisher and that Vash just…took it anyway.
Ch 2
Wolfwood and his nightmares. They truly hurt me. He’s given up everything to protect the orphanage, including his own humanity. But now he’s afraid that it won’t be enough, that the very people he’s working with (who also happen to be the people he’s trying to protect the orphanage from) are going to destroy everything he cares about. And there’s nothing he can do. It’s heart-wrenching.
I wonder who’s saying, “Do you really think there won’t be consequences?” Is it his conscience or someone else? And consequences for what? Personally, I think it’s consequences for continuing down this path and being who and what he is. 
“It’s my job.” Wolfwood does not like getting praise from Knives. It’s only making the conflict inside himself worse. 
Wolfwood tried to kill Knives after Fifth Moon! He saw what he could do and went, “This has to be stopped!” But the sheer fear and power Knives put out stopped him and he was put back on the path of being a tool, an assassin. He draws a direct connection between Knives and Vash with their power to project emotion. It scares the shit out of him! How can these two creatures possibly be anything other than a threat to humanity? After the destruction he witnessed in the Dragon’s Nest he has to confront this again and really think about how willing he is to let this go on. 
First of all: what an iconic panel. Secondly, I can’t get over how Vash’s friendly, open face is contrasted with Wolfwood’s stark fear. Vash just showed up out of nowhere, without a sound, while Wolfwood is thinking about the kind of monster he is. On top of that, that friendly face is overshadowed by the damage he did to the Fifth Moon. Talk about cognitive dissonance. Right now, Wolfwood can’t imagine how all of this can coexist in one person.
Tumblr media
And then an even more iconic panel!! Wolfwood points his gun at Vash! A lot of people have analyzed this better than I ever could, but I need to talk about this because it’s just too good. 
For a moment, Wolfwood really thinks about doing it. He couldn’t stop Knives, he was too powerful. But maybe, if he takes Vash off the board, he’ll be able to stop all this destruction that awaits them in the future. The thing is, in his fear, Wolfwood forgets that Vash isn’t the problem. Knives is the one with the world-ending plans, and Vash is the only one trying to stop it and the only one who truly stands a chance. But all he can think about right now is the weapon of mass destruction he first saw in Fifth Moon and was reminded of in the Dragon’s Nest. Until Vash turns around and he sees his face again. Until he’s faced with the fact that Vash is a lot more than a weapon and is the only person who’s ever been concerned with saving people. 
Wolfwood is like, “Ok, I’m not gonna kill him, but I am going to keep him from getting in more trouble than necessary.”
Meanwhile Vash is already running straight into danger as if to prove all of Wolfwood’s fears wrong. And standing directly in the path of a truck. We love one man. 
Yeah, Wolfwood to the rescue!! This chapter is just full of iconic panels honestly. After just thinking about killing him, he protects Vash with the Punisher! He’s probably telling himself it’s his job, but really, it’s because he knows Vash and he cares about him, more than he’s afraid of him. 
Love love love how they instinctively fight back to back. In the grand scheme of things, they haven’t known each other long, but this shows the level of trust they’ve already developed. They move together and trust the other enough to turn their back on them in battle. Can you tell this chapter is hitting me hard in the Vashwood feels?
Wolfwood is once again reminded of just who and what Vash is. Vash knew Wolfwood was protecting his back, so he knew that he pointed a gun on him on the roof. And yet, Vash never said anything about it, even trusting him enough to turn his back on him again, during a fight no less. It’s the reminder Wolfwood needs. This is who Vash really is. Not a weapon, but a kind, understanding (perhaps too understanding for Wolfwood sometimes) man. 
“Everything’s different when I’m back to back with him.” Sums it all up basically. When he’s with him, Wolfwood’s fear and doubt melts away, because this is who Vash truly is. Wolfwood trusts him.
Also, damn Milly. I want whatever helped her sleep through that.
Ch 3
Ah, Legato, so delightfully toxically devoted to Knives. Even after he broke his spine and sidelined him, kept him from killing Vash in revenge, he’s still willing to serve him. 
Elendira, on the other hand, is so tired of his shit. Oopsie, just gonna spill my drink because you’re insufferable but I have to deal with you anyway because we’re in the same murder gang together. She’s the best.
Double Fang and Trip of Death!!!! The Eye of Michael!!! My favorite religious assassins!!!
So Knives has his own castle of evil made from a fallen spaceship? Yeah, that sounds like him. 
Even on my second read, I can’t figure out why Double Fang kills Ogre and Joe. They’re Eye of Michael too, right? Were they not supposed to be there? Are they traitors somehow?
Ewwww, Legato. Why is his tongue so long???
Not much to say for this chapter except ooh, new characters! With cool designs!
11 notes · View notes
Text
Wearing Red
💋
Hawks x reader
Word count: 1.6k
Warnings Warnings: No actual sex or mention of it, but it’s pretty steamy so read at your own discretion (children get lost). Also it’s not necessarily dubcon bc they both consent but Hawks is a little tipsy so if that makes you uncomfortable this is a heads up :) Features drinking and hickies
Female reader
Summary
You have a crush on your best friend Hawks -so when he begs you to be his date for a party you reluctantly agree. He ends up ditching you to drink with Mirko, but regrets it when he finds you flirting with another man.
From there you’re both forced into confessing in a very round about way
Link to ao3 here
Ch1 Ch2
Chapter 3
When you awoke the next morning, he was unsurprisingly missing. It left you with more questions than answers but you supposed it was better than waking up with him. You weren’t sure what you would even say when you saw him again. Instead you went to your bathroom to change out of your dress and his suit jacket, and assess the damage in the mirror.
That’s a lot of damage.
Your neck and upper chest was a portrait of pinks and purples. They were a little sore to the touch, but otherwise felt normal. They didn’t look normal, if you didn’t know what had happened you’d assumed you were strangled. They were a firm reminder that no you didn’t imagine it, and yes Keigo was an animal. You thanked your lucky stars that you enjoyed turtle necks, because you’d be wearing them a lot for the next couple weeks.
You decide not to wear a turtleneck, instead changing into a tank and sweatpants. It was a conscious choice to bear your branding for Keigo to see when he returned. You were hoping to make him feel guilty for maiming you like a feral tomcat.
You should’ve known better.
He returns thirty minutes later, arms and feathers full of shopping bags. When he sees you he glances down to your neck and lights up. If you didn’t know better he was exuding a smugly proud aura.
“You’re up!” He exclaims, depositing the bags where he stood.
“I’m up,” you confirm crossing your arms. “Where were you? And what was all that last ni-“you don’t get to finish your sentence as he hoists you over his shoulder giving you a face full of red feathers. He unceremoniously throws you onto the middle of his bed. A parade of feathers carrying bags follows him. He shuffles around in them throwing a blanket, then two onto you. As you pull the offending fabric off your head, you're bombarded with several pillows and another couple blankets.
“Keigo! What the hell is going on?” You struggle untangling your limbs from the offending fabrics. He chirps happily at you, depositing the last two blankets on the bed beside you.
“I’m building a nest!” He tells you with such conviction and glee that you’re taken aback for a moment.
“I know I call you bird all the time, but I’m genuinely so confused right now.” You tread lightly. You knew his avian tendencies were something he tried to hide especially to the public. You didn’t want to make him feel bad if he genuinely wanted to build a nest, but you couldn’t wrap your head around why he wanted to build a nest, and why you were currently sitting in it.
“I’m building a nest.” He explains to you, crawling over the mountains of bedding and rearranging the sheets.
“What for?”
“For you.” You blink at him squinting as if that would make the answers clear. You swore you needed a veterinary license and a degree in psychology to figure him out.
“I appreciate the sentiment, but I have my own bed. Not to mention you filled it to the brim with pillows and throw blankets when I moved in. I don’t really need any more.” You say carefully, something was clearly going on in that brain of his. There was some miscommunication, something that was unsaid that got you to this point. This causes him to pause. You watch as the feathers on his wings bristle before smoothing back down.
“Nice try sweet cheeks, but you’re not escaping this one.” He hums, arranging his ‘nest’.
“Escaping what? Keigo! You’re really keeping me in the dark here!” You run your hands through your hair, starting to get stressed out. What were you to him, at this point you weren’t even sure. “You fly me home and attack my neck like a starved animal, then you disappear and come home with blankets talking about a nest?”
“I did mark you pretty bad huh,” he turns to you now, examining closely your bruised neck. “Sorry ‘bout that birdie, I was just so jealous I nearly lost control.” He’s scanning you again, reading your expression like an open book. You flush bright red remembering how he held you down and kissed your neck. He smiles dangerously, opening his arms in invitation for you to sit on his lap. You refuse.
“You haven’t even kissed me or confessed. You can’t just mark me or build some nest like we’re together Keigo. We’re not together.” It hurt to say, you think it might’ve hurt him too, the look of shock and sadness washing over his features. All you wanted was for him to confess, to say that yes he did want to date you.
“Do you not want to be with me? If that’s what you want, I’ll respect your decision. I’d never want to force you.” He sounds so sad as he says it, it nearly breaks your heart.
“I-“ your mouth goes dry, trying to find the words for everything you wanted to tell him. How much you had fallen, how confused but hopeful you were. How you so desperately wished this wasn’t some trick or bird fluke and that he wouldn’t wake up tomorrow wanting nothing to do with you. The longer you wait to answer the more distressed he becomes in front of you - wings trembling, muscles tensing. You open your mouth to say something, anything, but the words stick to your throat, choking you.
Then suddenly as if a switch had flipped in his mind, all the distress melts off his features. He dons a neutral mask of nonchalance, one you’d seen him use at work. It terrifies you.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay ya know. I was getting carried away with a bird thing. I must’ve had more to drink than I thought. We can forget this ever happened, it didn’t matter to me anyway.” He pulls away from you, his cold uncaring words hitting you like bullets.
“You- You- Selfish! Arrogant! Bastard!” You lunge at him, tackling him into the bed sheets. “You don’t get to say it doesn’t matter, you absolute prick! Take responsibility for your actions, you overzealous pigeon!”
He forgets to mask his reaction, mouth hanging wide open in shock. You’re straddling him, pounding on his chest -not enough to hurt, even if he wasn’t a pro, but enough to get your anger out. You continued your rant.
“I’m not settling for this birdshit. You’re courting me like a proper woman, a confession with flowers and everything! And you’re going to kiss me before you cover my neck in hickies! And I swear to god Keigo if you leave me alone at one more party I don’t care how I get it done, I don’t care if I have to side with villains, I am going to kill you.”
He blinks under you, realization dawning on his face. He gives you a shit eating grin right before you’re the one being pinned to the bed.
“Let me get this straight. You’re upset because I didn’t confess?” He asks.
“Yes. You’re a terribly confusing man.” You frown beneath him; and he laughs. When he’s done laughing at you he scoops you from underneath him and into his arms.
“Okay okay, a proper confession after the most amazing date.” He promises, nuzzling his nose into your shoulder from behind.
“Good.” You huff.
“Excellent-“ a pause “-but that has to wait until Sunday, today you’re still mine.” As if to settle his claim he unleashes his teeth upon your shoulder, giving you yet another hickey.
“Knock it off!” You grumble squirming in his hold. He tightens his arms around you.
“What? I missed a spot!” He pecks the area again, as if confirming it needed his intervention.
“The second thing I said birdbrain.” You sigh, despite his antics you were very happy.
“What? I can’t kiss you yet! That’s our first kiss dove! I can’t waste it on jealousy, it has to be perfect. Imagine telling our future kids I kissed you tipsy after seeing another man flirt with you? Not cool,” he nearly squawks.
“Is that why you didn’t kiss me properly last night?”
“Duh,” he rolls his eyes, rocking you back and forth with him.
“So if you like me, why did you let Mirko exclude me?” You ask. “Does she not like me?”
“What? No. No, of course not. She wanted to make fun of me after I backed out from confessing to you.” He lets you go with one arm to rub the nape of his neck.
“You were going to confess to me?” You ask shocked. He merely nods.
“Yeah, last week when I took you to that beach -but I chickened out. I thought you liked me, but I didn’t want to risk it,” he carries on like it was the most normal thing in the world. And maybe it was but your whole world perception was crumbling.
“You knew?” You wail, cheeks going red. You didn’t think it was possible to die from embarrassment but you were getting close.
“You’re not exactly subtle sweetheart, but you always shot me down verbally. So cruel!” He flops backwards pulling you down with him. You roll your eyes this time.
“That’s because you’re a major flirt.”
“That’s unfair!” He gasps. “Besides I only really ever flirt with you.”
“Really?”
“Most certainly.”
“Does this mean I should delete Ice Cream man’s number?” You tease him.
He groans next to you. You laugh.
“Seriously dove?” He looks at you, and you stare back, snuggling into his arms.
“Don’t worry, I think you were right. He’s definitely below me.”
“On Sunday you’ll be below me,” he snorts.
“Keigo!”
120 notes · View notes
and-stir-the-stars · 9 months
Note
Got the brainworms.
A Nest Torn Empty, the month Mike is away. There are some flavors of trauma that might interestingly suit that scenario. These are just little brainstorms, don't feel like. Compelled to use them lmao
One might fit the idea of being medicalized, poked and prodded. Psych test after psych test, evaluations and therapy as it was in the eighties, possibly by particularly shitty professionals who try to go the therapy version of "bad cop" and INSIST mike is lying just to see if he breaks?
Another might be someone deciding to enact some kind of revenge on Evan's behalf. This could go any number of ways, but I think it would be interesting if someone who has been in Evan's position before decided to try and create some version of "a taste of his own medicine" for Mike, though obviously without the near death bit bc of plotlines etc.
And then there are less obvious things that kind of get left out. Being torn from your family all of the sudden is traumatic. He doesn't know what's going to happen to him, or to his brother and sister. Whether or not he's in another abusive place, the sheer amount of differences could throw him off. All the rules are different, all the people are different. He probably feels very isolated.
(You're giving me ideas for the au where Mike thinks Evan died after they're split up, lmao)
In terms of reactions, I think there might be more of a shutdown than his earlier behavior. If nothing he's doing yields ANY reaction– good or bad– then why bother? I think a lot of it would just lead him to be very tired by the end of it all.
Final aspect that I think would be interesting: as the kids grow up and actually learn to talk about the shitty upbringing they had, I think Mike's month away might fall to the wayside for a while. Nobody else thinks about it; it doesn't come up.
Eventually, though, it does need to be addressed. Maybe it kind of pales in comparison to the bite itself, but the experience still hurt.
(Or disregard all of this! Just brainstorming dhfjdkdksk)
okay first off I think it's so funny that I have to outsource all my "how would Mike react to xyz trauma" stuff to you,, like how dare you know him so well and have so many tantalizing Mike thoughts /honorary /pos
i think my initial idea was more along the lines of like,, Mike keeps insisting that he didn't mean to hurt Evan, but the more the psychiatrists poke and prod and question him, the less certain Mike is.
All of Mike’s claims that "I didn't know that would happen" and "i didn't mean for him to get hurt" and "i didn't want to kill him" are met with stuff like. "So there's no history of you hurting him?" "So Evan hasn't been put in danger by your actions before?" "So this behavior is a recent thing that came out of nowhere?" And just like. General questions that, whether asked out malice or from people genuinely trying to understand if Mike is a danger to himself or others, only serve to highlight in Mike’s mind that maybe he is inherently evil, because every time he swears that he didn't mean it, he's just met with a reminder of all the times he has in fact hurt Evan and others before and with the reminder that he could do it again at any time.
The idea that there are certain "professionals" there who just insist that Mike is lying about not meaning for the Bite in an effort to get him to cave and break???? Oooooh boy. Angsty, I love it. Maybe as time passes and Mike gets more and more frustrated, his "medical treatment" and "psychiatric professionals" just get worse and worse as a result of his lashing out. It starts out with the psychiatrists just trying to be thorough and get a detailed understanding of what happened, and the mere nature of their questioning frays Mike as he interprets their questions as them not believing him. He tells himself that he's crazy for feeling so attacked by them when they're professionals trained to help people, but like. It doesn't make the problem go away. Mike starts lashing out as he feels like they don't believe him. And his lashing out is ofc seen as signs of hostility, leading to worse and worse "treatment" (in both sense of the term), and leading to him being placed with awful "professionals" who blatantly tell him to his face now that he's lying about not meaning to hurt Evan to get Mike to break.
And the whole experience just, like, shreds every sense of faith Mike had in his own judgment. He doesn't know what to do or think anymore, and it doesn't matter anyway, because no matter WHAT he does or thinks it has the same result of people just. Making him feel cruel and evil, like he'll inevitably hurt someone, like he's a monster and has always been a monster and is trying to manipulate everyone here in the psych facility and everyone he's ever known into thinking he's NOT a monster for his own personal gain.
Worst thing is that in Mike’s eyes, these are strangers who don't even know him or know anything about him, and yet they don't NEED to know him to know that he's evil. Mike coming to the conclusion that theres something so fundamentally broken about him that people can PHYSICALLY SEE IT, he reeks of it, it's the first thing people see when they look at him, the ONLY thing people see. People don't even need to know him to see straight into the evil in his heart. Which is only furthered when he goes back home and all these classmates he never talked to before are calling him a murderer, not to mention Liz's ambivalent reaction to seeing him again.
#Like low key there's an ask sitting in my inbox abt how saffron mike would react to smth#And I've just been staring at it like. No idea my guy. I am not the mike expert here. Lmao#Now I'm thinking about mike begging and praying for william to come get him out of this facility#And will not doing so feeds into Mike’s reluctance to trust will later on#And feeds into mikes frustration that will has been so absent#ie the scene where mike freaks out in ch1 of bcoh and he's like. FATHER should be#The one giving ev his meds so he doesn't try ripping his own head off from the pain so WHERE IS HE??#Like Will just. Consistently does this#Also mike not knowing what's gonna happen to him or liz or evan...#Do the psychiatrists even tell mike whether or not ev is still alive?#Does mike assume that liz is in a psych facility herself? She didn't cause the bite but SHE has been hurting ev too#Does mike wonder if he's ever getting out of here#And then no one in the fam talking about mike's month away!!!#Ur giving me thoughts for a one shot that takes place several years after the bite#With evan begging mike to stop pushing him away#And mike is just. So traumatized not just from going thru this but from no one talking or caring abt it#(On top of his normal trauma abt not wanting to burden/hurt anyone w his issues and not feeling they're important#And and and plus all the time mike spent trying to reach out to ev after the bite only for ev to be so traumatized that he kept#Rejecting mike) that he can't stop holding people at arms length.#A nest torn empty#my brother my wound#tw medical malpractice#Tw child abuse
4 notes · View notes
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Where Evil Nests
Chapter 2: Saying Yes
so after i put a poll up the vote was overwhelmingly in favour of naming this AU “Where Evil Nests”. so yay!!! we have a name that doesn’t suck now :DDD
uhhhhhh, this is probably a good time to mention that will is an unreliable narrator. fair warning to the henry apologists/appreciators that this is not a pro-henry story. aha. :fuckboy_emoji: :fuckboy_emoji:
in case ur curious, or even if ur not: this AU takes place several years before canon starts. i went with the “4 years ago” date from the original montauk pitch for when joyce and lonnie divorced, which puts will at about age 8 and jonathan at like 12. anyway, that’s why ~12yo henry is so much bigger than will lol, i prommy i’m not just shit at scaling 🙏🙏
Ch1 Ch2 Ch3
@gay-stranger-things asked to be tagged in the continuation so there ya go. if anybody else wants to be tagged in future lmk i guess, tho i’m also gonna be tagging everything with #Where Evil Nests for mostly my own benefit
rambling below...
apologies for the serious inconsistency in the art, even within individual pages. you can literally see me putting progressively too much effort in with each page lmfao. a bitch been hella busy the past couple of weeks and i’ve only been able to work on this very sporadically. also doesn’t help that i had to redraw and redraw and redraw like half of this chapter. the 2nd page pains me particularly bc in my initial draft i had the door on an angle to show the rose window and spent H O U R S messing around with it to make the perspective work, before realizing the angle didn’t match the direction will was facing in and i didn’t want to redraw him. the worst part is that it looks better compositionally the way it is now ToT
hmmmm i put way too much text slanted to the left and like none slanted to the right... oh well i am not changing that i will scream if i have to touch any of these pages again
i can make no promises abt when chapter 3 will be up bc i start a formal art course soon and idk if i’ll have any motivation to draw outside of it lol
okie it’s almost 5am. again. i gotta get a better sleep schedule dude <///3
OH WAIT I JUST WANT TO CLARIFY THAT PANEL WITH LONNIE IS ***NOT*** IMPLYING C/S/A. I JUST REALIZED U COULD INTERPRET IT THAT WAY BUT THAT WAS NOT MY INTENTION. i reworded that line slightly to make it scan better but in retrospect perhaps i should have left it be bc Yikes
190 notes · View notes
dreamsclock · 1 year
Note
Any fic & Halted
ask game: give me a word and i’ll make a web-weave of every time i’ve used that word in a fic!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
hornets nest, ch1 / felicia, oneshot / featherweight, ch5 / destiny’s darlings, oneshot & HALTED / HALTING
It’s been decorated, as it is every year — gray monolithic slabs furnished with garish decorations and ornaments, the flag of Manberg flying high above the stage and printed neatly on the side of the Justice building. Dream can barely pay it any attention, focusing entirely on his little brother, but Sapnap can — his eyes widen as he takes it in, mouth dry, steps faltering. The Peacekeepers march behind them in an orderly regiment, never halting, never hesitant: Dream tugs at Sapnap’s hand to keep him moving.
“We’ll find him,” Wilbur says, and then jumps when his comms buzz, “hang on, someone’s calli— Dream.”
Dream is calling him. His hero. His knight in shining, bloodied, armour. Wilbur grins, halting in place and hanging up on Niki with a hurried excuse.
“You’ve got pretty wings, Q,” Karl says quietly, and watches his old fiancé’s form stiffen in sudden dread, “I barely got to see them before the [REDACTED], but I can see them, now.”
Silence. And then, stepping closer, halting uncertainly—
“I can see you, now.”
The fight was so intimate, so close. He’d killed [REDACTED] with his powers, created an intricate illusion of an inescapable room and shot him while he pressed against make-believe walls in cattle-like terror. Couldn’t bring himself to make it any more personal, not then, not with [REDACTED]. This, however, was different: Wilbur’s hands wrapped around his wrists, heaving and bucking under his grip with desperation he’d never really seen before. If there had been a logical part left in Dream’s mind, the glassy eyes of his enemy might have halted him where he was. Might have convinced him to show even a modicum of mercy.
…His logic, however, had fled with the knowledge about [REDACTED].
12 notes · View notes
worldismyne · 1 year
Text
The Longest Sleepover Ch1
Summary: The first year of school did not go as planned for Harv and he's never felt more alone. That is, until a loud kid from the saga studies course decides they're best friends now.
(Year 1 AU, Harv deals with homophobia, Finn is oblivious.)
Series: Warrior U
Pairing: HarvFinn
Rating: T
Ao3 Link
One year of wandering around in the sewers with nothing but a bow and arrow. That was Finn's punishment for refusing to pick up a sword and shield for prerequisites. At the time it seemed safer, little did he know there were things living in the sewer. Strange mutated creatures that survived off of magic polluted filth, weird lich nests and worst of all...
"Finn, there's another one!"
Other bards. 
Two other classmates had been sent into the labyrinth with him. One was a foppish scholar with a gift for the mandolin and the other was a drummer from the Scottish isles. Both of them were loud, clumsy and argumentative. In a place where they really couldn't afford to be. They were also both useless in a fight.
"Take care of it yourself." Finn said.
"But you're better at dealing with them." Shad batted his eyes. Wicked little liar, Finn still couldn't aim for shit, he was just good at hitting things with other things while his 'friends' ducked for cover and shouted instructions at him on how to fight better. If not that, then they were giving him notes on how he could improve as a musician. Which was impossible, because playing music down here just attracted more monsters. It was a vicious cycle that Finn was more than anxious to break.
"That's not going to work on me again." Finn hissed. "You threw your bow staff in the water on the first day! The only reason I'm 'better' is you never tried in the first place."
"I feel like we're saying the same thing." Shad shrugged.
"Guys..." Beatus looked away from the squabbling pair at a brilliant white light. "It's open." The monsters hissed at the foreign light, scuttling back into the shadows far away from their potential prey. Finn pushed Shad and ran toward the exit, basking in the light of day for the first time in a year. Sweet fall air greeted him in return.
Never again. 
"Well, that was a good bonding experience." Shad laughed a little as they made their way into the vast practice yard. Beatus and Finn glared at him silently. Everyone else seemed to have gone home for the semester. "What don't you feel closer as friends?"
"No man." Beatus sighed.
"Friends!?" Finn nearly threw his sewage-soaked weapon at the other bard. "We are not friends. You can find another pack mule, I quit."
"Oh come on Finn, don't be like that." Shad rolled his eyes. "I mean, who else are you going to talk to at school?"
"Not you." Finn dropped their stuff on the ground along with his bow and arrows. "I don't need you. I'm a people person. I could make friends with anyone I want, like..." He saw someone sitting on the steps outside of the school. "That guy."
"Finn," Beatus rose an eyebrow, "that guy's obviously in the warrior track."
"Doesn't matter." Finn turned heel and stormed toward the stranger. "See you never." The other two watched Finn walk up to the stranger.
"He'll come back." Shad sighed. "He always does." He looked down at the pile of grime soaked gear and then up at Beatus.
"I'm not touching it." Beatus sneered back.
-v-
Harv had lost track of how long he had been sitting outside of the school. Final grades for the year were in and they were not good. He had done a half decent job on combat it was the other subjects he had struggled in. Everything else had been D's and F's. The headmaster said he had two choices, repeat the year or give up.
His family barely had enough money to send him to school in the first place, they'd be devastated. He was the good one, the one they always depended on, and he'd let them down. He failed. Now he was sitting on the steps trying to delay the inevitable. 
"Hey." Harv's eyes were closed, he didn't recognize the voice, they probably were talking to one of their friends. "Hey, you." Someone kicked his leg. He startled up and looked up at a blond kid he didn't recognize with a harp strapped to his back. "I need a new friend, my old ones..." He looked over with a grimace at two other bards fighting over who had to touch a pile of soiled gear. "I just need to make a point. Come to my place and I'll treat you to dinner?"
Harv looked up at him blankly for a few seconds, the gears slowly turning once more. That sounded like an excellent way to procrastinate on going home. Even if the invitation was a little odd.
"Sure?" Honestly, what did he have to lose at this point.
"HA!" Finn shouted across the school yard. "See? Me and-" He looked back at Harv and muttered quickly. "What's your name?"
"Harv?"
"Me and Harv are going to a sleepover and you're not invited!" He stuck his tongue out at the other bards. 
"Yeah, sure you are Finn." One of them laughed back.
"Oh, that little-" Finn cursed under his breath. "Come here." He grabbed Harv by his arm and helped him to his feet. "You're just jealous that Harv and I are going to have sooo much fun and you're not." The two bards kept laughing at him.
"I'm so confused." Harv wasn't sure who to look at or if he was supposed to say something specific.
"You can be confused at my house, come on." Finn started to lead Harv in the general direction of his house. "Don't pull away, just, wait until they're out of sight." Harv sniffed the air with a frown.
"Did you guys come out of the sewer?"
"Just keep walking." 
-v-
As soon as they made it away from the town square, Finn let go of his new friend's arm. People had been staring at them, something Finn was used to, but Harv had looked ready to bolt at a second's notice. He just needed enough people to see them together to rub it in Shad and Beatus's stupid faces. 
"Sorry about getting sewage on your arm." Finn sighed, ready for the inevitable to happen.
"It's fine..." Harv wrinkled his nose. "As long as you don't mind me washing up once we get to your place." Finn paused, and watched Harv walked past him. "What's wrong? Isn't that where you said we're going."
"No, yeah, I just never had someone want to come over before." Finn laughed a little. He let himself get a little more excited, now knowing his claim wasn't all talk. Bickering with the same two people for a year really warped his sense of reality. Now that he was walking in the forest that led back to his home, with someone who'd let him talk by his side, he felt a wave of energy come back he hadn't realized he lost. 
They made their way up to the witch's house and Finn excitedly knocked on the door. Immediately he was scooped up into his mother's arms. She kissed his cheek and hugged him so tight something in his back popped. The last piece of the puzzle had been found and he felt a weight leave his shoulders. 
"Oh sweetheart, I've missed you so much! Don't ever go running off for that long again. I nearly tore that whole school down to its foundation looking for you." She pulled away with a grimace. "Where were you, you smell-"
"Don't ask." Finn really didn't want to hear an 'I told you so' lecture so soon after getting home.
"And who's this?" She looked over his shoulder at Harv, who felt entirely out of place and a little more apprehensive of going in the house now that he knew the witch lived here.
"This is my new friend!" He got set down again and ran to drag Harv by the wrist inside. "We're going to have a sleepover, and swap stories, and I'll be able to play the harp again; but first a bath."
"That's probably a good idea. Does your little friend have permission from his parents to be out late?" Harv flinched, a little ashen at the thought. "I'm kidding, relax." She laughed, but Harv still felt guilty for coming here instead of going straight home.
"Actually, can I use your phone, I should..." He was starting to feel ill to his stomach. Leenan frowned a little and sidestepped to show the sitting room.
"Sure." He picked up the phone and started talking to someone on the other end.
"Hey, Rhodri can you tell mom- No, don't!" He tensed up, and his shoulders sagged. "Hey dad..." He started talking in a voice so quiet that Leenan couldn't pick up on the rest.
"Finn, why don't you get washed up and I'll send your friend up after he's finished." She started ushering Finn toward the stairs. "I have a feeling this might take a bit."
-v-
After Harv had delivered the news over the phone, he felt the full weight of the other shoe dropping. No amount of washing up or strange sights could fully distract him at this point. He had been leant clothes a few sizes too big and shown to Finn's room. The knowledge that all of this was temporary hung over his head like a sword.
Silence had never felt so physical, so painful before. Outright rejection would have been one thing, it would have been easier to navigate, easier to turn to anger to cope. Instead, the last few weeks, when Harv had come home, there was this palpable silence he couldn't avoid. His mother would be her typical cheerful self, dancing around questions about why he hardly saw his brothers playing in the house anymore. His father would only ever talk to him about stuff relating to school, and now that he'd failed, Harv heavily suspected that would be it. He'd just be politely ignored until one of the cures finally worked and the anxiety around the house finally cleared. 
Now that the whole church knew, the silence had bled into the streets. 
His close friends had quietly put distance between them, still kind, but he could feel it. He felt it in every careful word, every lit of excitement at the discovery of a topic that wasn't that. They cared for him, they were worried about him, but there was no home he could turn to where the silence wouldn't follow. 
"So, I sleep up against the wall." Finn gestured to a large stack of pillows on an obnoxiously pink bed. "And you can sleep here." He gave the other side of the queen-sized bed a pat and Harv just stared at him blankly. 
"Finn... I can't do that."
"Is there not enough pillows?" Finn frowned and looked at the one pillow he had spared for Harv. "Well, we could grab some cushions from the couch."
"That's not..." He didn't want to ruin this place too, he'd just gotten here. 
"Oh, I get it, people don't actually sleep at sleepovers." He ran to a bookshelf looking for a blue and gold cover. "Here we are." He flipped through the pages. "Let's see: blanket forts, ghost stories, we already did a make-over kind of, midnight snacks, games. Do any of these sound interesting to you Harvey?" Finn looked and immediately his face changed from excited to concerned. Harv could feel his face grow hot and his eyes getting misty. It hadn't even been six hours and Finn was already looking at him like that. "Harvey what's wrong?" Curse those words, and curse the fact he couldn't hear them without wanting to cry.
The next thing he knew there was a blond in his personal space, touching his cheek with a cold hand before pulling him in for a hug. The last of his self-control snapped and he could feel the tears dribble down his face and onto Finn's shoulder. He wished he could catch his breath long enough to answer any of Finn's questions, even if the answers would be disappointing in the end. 
It felt so good to be held by someone again.
"Why don't we start with the fort?" Finn rubbed the back of Harv's neck with small gentle strokes. "We'll make the biggest fort we can, and then have the snacks in the fort! Two birds with one stone." He pulled back, squishing Harv's cheeks together with his hands. "I'll start getting the extra blankets from downstairs, you grab any cushions you can find." Finn dashed down the stairs, leaving Harv alone in the pink room to collect himself. It was obvious all Finn really cared about was having a successful sleepover, but Harv could handle that. He could make the silly fort and keep the bard distracted. He was a little out of practice, but it was nice to have a concrete goal to focus on, something achievable. And maybe he could count on Finn's obliviousness a little more than he first assumed.
He could put all the over decorated pillows and cushions in a pile.
That would make Finn happy.
If Finn was happy, maybe he could put off going home another day. That would be nice. Staying in a room constantly filled with the voice of someone wanting his company was nice. Anything was better than silence.
3 notes · View notes
magicalflurry · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
Read ch22 here
Summary: Pete "Maverick" Mitchell loves his pack - his found family. Goose, Carole and Bradley make his life complete. They also offer him the steadiness, the ground under his feet he so desperately needs, especially with his status as one of the Navy's only omega pilots. But just as he settles into his life, disaster strikes. And just when he thinks he's okay again, it happens again. And again. To the point where he's not sure if he can keep going - or how. The only thing he knows is that he needs to keep going, even when every part of his life feels fucked - especially when every part of his life feels fucked.
In this part: Bradley and Maverick manage to talk (a little, helped by the fact that they're tied together).
Rating: Explicit
Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Pack Dynamics, Found/alternative family, Age Difference, Introspection, Internal Panic, Anxiety, Canonical Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Slow Burn, Angst, Hurt/Eventual Comfort, Non-explicit side Ice/Mav, Mentions of suicidality, Nesting, Canon Divergent, Omega!Maverick, Alpha!Bradley
If you haven't read it yet click here for ch1
Did you know you can support and commission me on ko-fi?
4 notes · View notes
Text
Stash buster/impulse project:
Tumblr media
Hands Free Heat Source Holder
Featuring hands bcs I don't know what to do with them when my dad is holding the phone to take the picture and giggling at my duck face.
Materials:
4 mm hook
Bag: 56 g / 2 oz of 4 ply thrift store acrylic in unknown color way.
Strap: 45 g / 1.6 oz of red heart super saver in Green Tones
Method:
Bag:
Magic ring, 8 SC in ring
HDC and DC in 1st SC, 2 DC in next 7 SC
1 DC in HDC, CH 1, (DC, CH 1, HTR (as treble, but pull through 2 loops only once, then pull through three loops)) in increase
Visual check: two increases on top of each other should resemble nested Vs
(CH1, 1 TR in next DC, CH 1, 2 TR in increase) 9 times
(CH 1, TR in CH space, CH1) 26 times
(CH1, BPTR, CH2) 27 times
Visual check: there will be 2 stitches of overlap of BPTR
(CH 1, SC in CH space, CH 4) 26 times
Recommended: place stitch marker in last SC.
Visual check: marked SC is in CH space between BPTR and SC
(CH 2, SC in CH space, CH 4) 26 times
Recommended: place stitch marker in last SC.
(CH 2, SC in CH space, CH 4) 26 times
Recommended: place stitch marker in last SC.
Visual check: 3 marked stitches, each one in the CH space between previous round's marked stitch and the next sc.
Tumblr media
CH 1, HDC in CH space
(CH 6, HDC in CH space) 25 times
(note: I actually only did it 24 times, but if I were to make this again, I'd do 25. I blame the drugs)
Recommended: place stitch marker in last HDC
[(CH 7, HDC in CH space) 26 times (Recommended: place stitch marker in last HDC)] two times *
Visual check: straight line of 7 stitch markers
[(CH 6, HDC in CH space) 26 times (Recommended: place stitch marker in last HDC)] three times *
Visual check: straight line of 9 stitch markers
[(CH 5, HDC in CH space) 26 times (Recommended: place stitch marker in last HDC)] two times, repeat until out of yarn.
* repeat additional rounds to use more yarn or create larger pouch
Strap:
Magic ring, 6 SC in magic ring, SC in each SC until long enough, SC 6 together, fasten off.
1 note · View note