#WHICH IS SOMETHING I WANT!! SO WHY DO I FIGHT IT SO MUCH

[heich0e]

"so... how's work?"

you accidentally click the edge of your wine glass against your teeth as you tip it back, jarred by the strange question from the man standing at your side. you swallow the tiny mouthful of wine you manage to sip, turning to look at suna in bewilderment.

"work?" you ask him incredulously. "why are you asking me about work?"

suna rintarou doesn't care about what you do for work. truthfully speaking, you're not sure he even knows what you do for work—you certainly don't remember ever telling him, and the memory would stand out quite starkly considering all you ever seem to do when you run into him is bicker with him uselessly.

suna is a friend of a friend. or a friend of some friend's ex. or something. all you know is that every so often the two of you end up at the same social event, and there's something about the guy's face that just... makes you want to pick a fight.

and he has yet to turn down your instigation.

your friends all think it's funny—like you're some kind of comedy duo, and this is your special bit—but you don't see the charm in the slightest. you suspect they've started inviting you both to events just to have some entertainment.

"what?" rintarou asks, fiddling with his cellphone in his hand—pinching it between his thumb and his ring finger while he twirls it with his index. "i'm not allowed to ask about work? isn't that normal small talk for a christmas party?"

you're a little taken aback by his words. first of all, because he's right (which you hate). second of all, because he seems strangely defensive about it.

"normal for other people, maybe," you mutter, more to yourself than anything, before taking another tiny sip of wine. you swallow it, but somehow it doesn't help the dry feeling in your mouth. you're not sure you like this particular wine, you think, as bitterness clings to your tongue. "work is... fine."

suna perks up beside you at that, and you feel his eyes on your profile like he's waiting for you to go on.

"things get, uh... things get slow this time of year, so I'm mostly just answering stupid emails and ordering gifts online while i sit at my desk." you swirl the glass of wine in your hand, watching the way that the light catches in the deep red surface. "my section chief has kids and loves the holidays, so she's been pretty checked-out lately, herself. makes it easy to get away with slacking off."

you risk a glance over at him, and are somewhat dismayed to find him listening intently.

"must be nice to get a little break," he offers.

"yeah, i guess," you reply. your words are in agreement with him, but still your brow furrows.

what the fuck is going on?

you look around the room, as though checking for a hidden camera, or some other sign that might give away what the hell this guy's motives are. but around you is simply a room of friends enjoying each other's company—sipping drinks; eating finger foods the hosts had been carefully set out to graze on; chatting amongst each other about their lives, their holiday sweaters, their work.

everything seems totally normal, other than what's transpiring in the quiet corner where you and suna rintarou find yourselves standing side by side.

"how is... your... work?" you manage to ask, though it sounds as though the question is pulled from you with considerable effort. stiff and strained in every way a question so innocuous doesn't have any right to be.

suna laughs a little under his breath, masks it with a clearly fake cough, and then rests his hand over his mouth. he's smirking. you know he is. he's revelling in every second of your discomfort like the twisted little freak he is.

you're about to tell him as much, but he cuts you off.

"it's good," he replies to your pained question with an unexpected sincerity. "we're coming up to the half-way point in the season, so training is still pretty intense. we do get a day off for the holiday though."

right, he's a volleyball player. you'd learned that upon your first meeting, before your opinion of him was quite so hostile. you remember thinking at the time that he looked like a volleyball player—tall, lean, with big hands that made the beer can he'd been holding look almost laughably small in comparison.

you glance down at those hands again, still idly fidgeting with his cellphone. he's not drinking a beer tonight, and you wonder if maybe it's because he's in the middle of his season.

you think about asking him.

but you don't.

suna seems to be waiting for you to say more, but when you don't, he continues on the conversation himself. "i thought about taking the train to hyogo for the day, but it wouldn't really make sense just to go visit for a few hours."

you take another sip of your wine. you decide that you do not in fact enjoy it.

you hum a bit, ditching your mostly full glass on the edge of a table that rests within reach. "tough to just make a day trip, especially since the weather's so..." you trail off, gesturing vaguely with your now empty hand in a way that's supposed to indicate the unreliability of the winter climate.

suna laughs.

you look at him in confusion.

"the weather?" he asks you, rubbing at his mouth again like he trying to hide the expression underneath his fingertips. it might work if his eyes didn't crinkle at the corner when he smiles. "we're talking about the weather now?"

your lips part indignantly at his jibe. he's the one who'd initiated this hellscape of small talk, and now he had the nerve to chide you for it?

"oh, i'm sorry," you guffaw, feigning remorse, "is there some pressing matter you'd rather discuss?"

rintarou dips closer to you from his greater height, and the fact that he's so much taller than you are only irritates you more.

"there is actually," he says with a nod.

"oh, yeah?" you roll your eyes, gearing up for a fight. you turn to face him properly, tilting your chin up to meet him eye to eye without wavering. "and what's that?"

"are you aware that we've been standing under mistletoe for the entirety of this conversation?"

you slowly look overhead.

like something out of a horror film, you find that for once in his life (or at least the few months you've known him) suna's chosen to say something factual. overhead, a little bundle of mistletoe has been affixed to the ceiling with a piece of tape that seems to barely be hanging on—the decoration at risk of falling at any moment.

you feel sick.

"so what?" you ask him, swallowing down that feeling of dread and maintaining (what you hope is) an air of indifference.

"so that means we're supposed to kiss," he tells you matter-of-factly, almost a bit pointedly, like he can't believe you didn't know.

"i'm aware of that," you hiss. "i don't, however, bend to the whims of plants, as a general rule."

"weird rule," he remarks, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

you feel a throb of irritation behind your eyes.

"you're the one who came over here to bother me," you point out. "if you knew there was mistletoe hanging up there, that means this is your fault."

suna shrugs a bit.

you keep going, your pulse thrumming beneath your tongue and fanning the flames of irritation churning in the pit of your stomach.

"if anything, that makes you the weird one for coming up with some scheme to trick me. we're not children. if you wanted to kiss me so bad you could have just aske—"

"can i kiss you?"

what?

"i asked if i can kiss you," rintarou says, and you're not sure if that means you voiced your thought aloud or it was just plainly written across your face. he inches closer to you, and though you would usually shift away to accommodate for the intrusion, the table where you'd discarded your glass of wine keeps you mostly trapped in place. pinned. cornered. "you said that if i wanted to kiss you, i should ask. so, i'm asking if i can kiss you."

why?

suna sighs after a moment of contemplating the look of abject shock on your features, slumping forward and resting his forehead on the wall beside your head, caging you against the wall with his lanky frame. you can't breathe with him this close—too startled by the proximity and the warmth radiating from him to even think about drawing air into your lungs. too confused by this entire situation to meet your basic human needs.

"you really don't get it, do you?" he asks quietly. he's so near that you feel his words more than you hear them—especially since they were spoken so quietly just next to your ear.

"get what?" your own voice sounds distant—sounds strange—to you when you finally manage to speak.

suna pulls back just far enough to meet your gaze, and you're shocked to see just how pink his face is. he looks mortified—and desperate—as his eyes find yours. he tilts his face towards you, and when he speaks again you feel the warmth of his breath break against your lips.

"you're the only person in this room who i'd enjoy listening to talk about the weather."

and it's not until much later, when the lingering bitterness from the wine has been replaced by something much sweeter (though entirely unexpected) on your tongue, that you realize rintarou was the only person in the room tall enough to reach the ceiling.

a/n: for nana, who forced me to write this entirely against my will but whom i love dearly in spite of it

[elssero]

꩜ enlightenment

i.midoriya

⋆ ˚｡⋆ 01 2k words.

next, masterlist.

11:58am.

if izuku hasn’t been nervous the entire morning then he definitely is now, it feels like he’s standing on the edge of a diving board, his heart raceing, beating faster than usual, a tightness in his chest.

in two minutes exactly his long awaited test results will be emailed to him by his professor, to say he’s dreading it is an understatement. the class is english, and although not his major, it’s a class that izuku needs to do well in, or at least pass.

however going by his previous results that’s appearing to be easier said than done.

he sits on the edge of his chair, his leg bouncing uncontrollably as he stares at his computer. his hands are clasped tightly together, his knuckles pale from the pressure. every few moments, he wipes his palms on his pants, only for them to become clammy again.

izuku’s mind is a whirlwind of scenarios as it often is, flipping between hope and dread, each possibility more vivid than the last. his lips press into a thin line, then part slightly as he mutters something to himself, maybe a prayer or just a reassurance. he glances at the clock, then at the computer again, his heart thudding in his ears. when the notification finally comes, his breath catches, his hand trembling as he reaches to open it.

fail.

the email reads kind, he can tell his professor is attempting to soften the blow. excuses about his stupid mistakes or skills that just need more development, but izuku can’t tear his eye away from the result- disappointment.

he skims through the rest of the email, finding nothing of note until the last paragraph in which his professor suggests that maybe, a tutor could actually do izuku some good, followed by what appears to be the email of a fellow student of his.

he doesn’t fight the sigh that is let out in response, this isn’t the first time the idea of a tutor has been brung up to izuku. looking at his results for this english tests during his first semester would tell you that he definitely needs one.

maybe it’s a confidence thing, or maybe it’s the fact he’s never had a tutor before, but izuku is terrified- to the extent he’s been dodging his tutors suggestion of a tutor for weeks.

he doesn’t need one- he just needs to put some extra work in- why is he even taking english in the first place? it’s not like he needs to know the history of shakespeare for a mechanical engineering degree??

extra classes are a waste of time anyway.

regardless of his little temper tantrum- izuku knows in the back of his mind that this extra curricular would look great on his degree, and he’s spent far too many hours studying to just give in now.

12:14pm.

“you remember that boy that keeps refusing your tutoring? he failed another test today.”

shaking your head in disappointment you take ur report from your bag and hand it to mr yamada before you respond- “did you offer him my tutoring again?”

“yes- i even sent him your email address over in the hopes he gets drunk one night and begs you to tutor him. honestly it’s like he doesn’t want to pass”

there’s an exasperated look on your professors face amidst the giggle he lets out at the idea of his student drunk, you’ve spent enough time with him to know that this kid is stressing him out- it’s clear how much he cares about his students, something in which you admire about him.

“keep pestering him- i’m sure he’ll come around”

“i’m not so sure- midoriya is extremely stubborn, even though he doesn’t seem it- asking for help can be difficult for some kids.” you swear you watch your professors eyes flick up to your own, you get the feeling he may be alluding to something more than midoriya here.

you shake your head anyway, a small smile on your face. you’ve spent so much time in professor yamada’s office this year you’d be as well setting up camp there- it’s a silly thought.

you think back to midoriya, and what you know- or don’t know about him.

he’s a mechanical engineering student, taking english as an extra class to fill out his timetable and he’s definitely struggling. you can’t blame him- it’s not for everyone.

however he appears to be extremely and entirely against tutoring? your not taking it personally, as the boy doesn’t know who you are, but you can’t help this weird feeling in your chest- that you want to help him.

you can’t explain it, not at all. you’ve never met this boy, the only details about him you know are recounts from your shared professor, but you can’t help this internal need to want to teach him, for him to do well.

It doesn’t come as a surprise to either you or mr yamada when midoriya ignores the suggestion of tutoring in his response email, instead giving his professor a quick thanks for his grade and wishing him a good weekend.

at least he’s polite.

your time with your professor ends quickly after that, quickly bidding him goodbye with the promise of seeing him on monday before your on your way. midoriya is out of your mind by the time your off campus.

11:42pm

It’s the second friday of the month, which means that tonight midoriya will spend almost his entire weekend stuck in this stupid gas station.

living in a college town means he can expect the groups of young adults walking in any second- either already extremely drunk or looking to buy the means to get there.

he doesn’t hate his job- no definitely not. He likes the night shifts during the weeks, it’s quiet, and lonely, and he has the entire place to himself the whole night. it’s the weekend shifts that midoriya dislikes- pity he’s forced to work at least one every two weeks.

a ring of the door can be heard from the other side of the store than him, he can see the group of people from the cameras next to the till. the group looks around his age, if not a little older, two men in dark clothing with coloured hair- a cheerful blonde girl, and another, quieter girl walking hand in hand with her.

midoriya can’t see much of their faces, but he can tell the quieter one is pretty right of the bat- he straightens himself up a little, maybe a little too eagerly.

he watches as the group walk around the stalls, grabbing snacks with alcohol and cigarettes- the tall one with the dark hair is very particular about his narcotics.

when they finally get to the till midoriya can smell the weed immediately- particularly from the men of the group. they’re being shushed as they approach the counter, being told to stay back as the pretty one continues forward to pay for their haul.

“hi- uh sorry about my friends- they’re a little out of it right now.”

izuku is even more enamoured by you as you get close to him- tired eyes and a slight smile- he doesn’t think he’s ever seen anyone more beautiful.

“uh- yeah it’s fine” he doesn’t say anything more- instead he stands stiff, eyes locked into yours, it’s not until your eyes make a quick look down to your basket of items that he remembers he’s at work- and that he has a job to do.

“oh sorry- let me ring you up quickly”

he’s trying to go as fast as he can- but his nerves are bubbling and he feels like an idiot for being so affected by one pretty girl. your making small talk with him, asking about his shift and when he gets off, he’s trying to answer the best he can.

“can I see some id please?” you have no problems taking out your id- handing it to izuku without a second thought, allowing him time to get your name, he forgets to even check that your above age until the very last second.

“uh- nice name.” he swallows immediately after saying it-

“oh! thank you-“ you pause, taking a moment to look down at his name card, probably so you return the favour. he curses that the nicknames that his work put in place for ‘safety.’

“uh- deku? thank you, your name is…” stupid, he thinks, it’s childish and idiotic. “pretty cute actually.”

that puts him at a standstill- it’s not even his real name but your compliment makes him freeze.

“well um- thank you for the service, enjoy your shift deku.”

your out the door with your friends before he can even answer- he doesn’t get a number, or a social media handle. Just an engrained image of your face and a name.

a name that read way to familiar- has he heard of you before?

it doesn’t matter anyway- he’ll probably never see you again after tonight, unless you take another late night trip to the gas station, izuku kinda hopes that you will.

it’s while now until another customer comes in, and even longer until the next, izuku has his headphones in in order to pass the time and it’s working pretty well. he can’t help himself but start to think back to school, finding himself hovering over the email his professor had sent him earlier.

would having a tutor really be that bad? maybe it’ll end up really helping him? he just needs to pass english this year and he doesn’t have to do it ever again, he can get through a few months of this right?

he opens the email after a long debate, still undecided on his decision to finally accept the offering of tutoring when the email attached catches his eye.

it’s a name- no it’s your name- the pretty girl with the weird friends name.

this has to be a sign- right? or maybe it’s a bad idea to only begin tutoring because you think the girl that’ll be tutoring you is pretty- maybe he should count his blessings that you don’t already think he’s some loser who’s failing english- maybe he should reject the tutor completely, or ask for someone different??

he doesn’t know- but he does know that he thinks your maybe the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, and that you smiled at him, and you called his name cute- and he’s writing up a draft email to send to his professor that he’s finally came around to the idea of being tutored.

it’s fine- it’ll all be fine- and if it doesn’t work out then he’ll drop out of university and work in this stupid gas station his entire life.

really it’s far too late to send this email now-its entirely unprofessional. but izuku is so worried that he’ll pussy out tomorrow morning than he sends it anyway, at nearly 1am.

he wishes he was surprised when his professor emails him back within 10 minutes- seemingly ecstatic about the idea of izuku finally coming around- that he won’t regret it- he’s sure that this will do him a lot of good- he’ll be passing with flying colours in no time.

maybe this wasn’t a good idea- he’ll just have to wait and see. but izuku now has a chance to have any conversation with you, and that’s all that matters.

taglist: @rueclfer @crimsonrubie @lovernatashaa

[genderqueerdykes]

hey anon saying "my abuser was a trans man so trans men hate trans women" I just want you to know I'm a transmasc person who was literally abused horrifically on the basis of sharing a similar pronoun and gender identity to my then-girlfriend's ex. she used the abuse of an entirely unrelated person as an excuse to insinuate I never respected her and would regularly scream at me and even invalidated my trauma over a relative dying using her own trauma.

she also, unsurprisingly, was a rampant transandrophobe, calling me horrible and transmisogynistic because I challenged her as a trans woman over saying blatantly transphobic things about trans men and transmascs (myself included).

because it was never about truth, it was about being on top and being the most inconvenienced and being in control of the conversation of suffering (this went beyond us fighting over my gender).

think why you feel that way, that you need sole dictation over the conversation and can't let anyone else breathe their words about experiences that may challenge how you feel, anon

if I were to do what she did, and say I was uncomfortable with trans women because they can be abusive, I would rightfully be ripped limb from limb for the transmisogynistic notion that trans women are remotely a monolith or are abusive based solely on my experience

but I guess trans men aren't owed that same equivalence. they are forced to live a double standard there. because you don't respect us enough for it. why is that.

"because it was never about truth, it was about being on top and being the most inconvenienced and being in control of the conversation of suffering,"

"if I were to do what she did, and say I was uncomfortable with trans women because they can be abusive, I would rightfully be ripped limb from limb for the transmisogynistic notion that trans women are remotely a monolith or are abusive based solely on my experience"

i had to highlight these bits in particulare because good god you worded this so perfectly. i am so sorry you have had this experience but you knocked the ball so far out of the park that i am genuinely in awe of how well you conveyed this, and how absolutely fucked peoples' double standards are when it comes to abuse and how people think that trans men and mascs have it "so much easier in life". you're dead on the money. NONE of this has to do with talking about oppression and looking out for one another.

this behavior is about control.

it's about controlling the narrative. some people literally get so insecure when the conversation turns away from them for even a moment, they think it means that everyone is their enemy. yes, trans women have an absolutely awful time in cisheternormative society. so do trans men.

i have been emotionally and sexually abused and harassed by 3 separate trans women. one of which struck me with an object, another who stole something out of my purse while i was asleep and continuously kept trying to get in my pants after she found out i had a vagina despite me repeatedly turning her down, and another who mocked me for my psychotic episodes and repeatedly swore up and down that i didn't have DID and just in general gaslit and emotionally abused the fuck out of me. the woman who hit me also constantly kept insinuating that penises are what make a man a man, and would not stop making me feel bad for not having a biopenis.

once everyone found out i had a vag, suddenly, i was a cishet woman in their house and i was public enemy #1. i had to deal with my cis gay male roommate shrieking about how he's gay, boobs and vaginas are disgusting, he's a MAN attracted to MEN. meanwhile, my ex girlfriend (the one who hit me) made me feel like shit for being a man without a penis almost every single day. she would guilt trip me about how she missed being with partners with biopenises and would spend all day telling me that she loved me, but then would turn around and scream and yell at me and tell me that i'm an evil asshole.

the transandrophobia i have had to deal with at the hands of other trans women has been absolutely fucking staggering. we need to stop fostering a culture where this is okay because it's genuinely getting people hurt. like you said, if a transmasc were to say "i hate trans women, they're all mean and shitty and abusive," they would literally be torn limb from fucking limb. and rightfully so, because it's a dogshit thing to say. but we HAVE to start telling people who do this to trans men to fuck OFF and stop it.

i am very sorry you went through that. i hope things improve for you, and that you're able to spend time in company that treats you with respect. nobody should have to deal with literal profiling just because of their gender.

is that what we're doing now? profiling people based off of their gender? how is that progressive? how is that liberating? how is that trans rights? it ain't.

[nneteyamss]

ROSES — 19. FAWK

(partly written)

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y/n walked to the park, clutching her jacket closer to her body. the december air blew into her face making her cheeks red as she buried her face further into her scarf.

“why the fuck couldn’t i have picked somewhere warm… my ass should not be put in the cold at 8 o’clock at night.” y/n mumbled to herself, already regretting leaving her warm bed. from a distance she spotted intak seated on a bench, looking at his phone. he was bundled up in a big winter jacket and a scarf wrapped around his neck. yet he had hat, letting snow fall and stick to his black hair. intak suddenly looked up hearing y/n approach and stood to greet her.

“hey… thanks for meeting with me, sorry it’s cold.” guilt instantly ran through y/n’s body because he seemed nervous.

“sorry for making you wait, i don’t know why i picked outside..”

“no it’s okay, i just got here a couple minutes before you.”

y/n simply nodded, shoving her hands in her pockets. the silence was lasted as neither of the two said anything after that.

“uhm do you want to sit? i cleared the snow off the bench.” he gestures to the bench and she nods. they sit down and another awkward silence fills the air.

“so, what did you want to talk about?” y/n turns to him, breaking the silence.

“oh right! i wanted to apologize again about the other day. i shouldn’t have kissed you without asking or so suddenly like that.”

“i appreciate and accept your apology, but why were you there?”

“i don’t know how to explain this without sounding crazy but i knew jaehyun was going to be there, and i had a weird feeling he was going to try something. i came in disguise and i approached you because i saw him walking up to you” y/n started at him with a blank stare, processing what he just said.

“so you were stalking me?”

“well no… but yes? yes to an extent!” intak fumbled over his words, not expecting that question. he thought of it more as keeping an eye out on her for a space she knew the man she so says didn’t like was going to be in. now that she said it though, it kind of seemed like stalking. “sorry” he mumbled.

“your disguise was ass by the way, you should’ve asked shota for his fake mustache” she giggled looking ahead of her. the situation was getting too serious, and she felt the need to make it more lighthearted.

“no way… he said the SAME thing. how do YOU know about the fake stache?”

“i’m the one who bought it for him of course!”

“this is like a full circle moment, what the fuck.” the two laughed together at the moment. who would’ve ever thought that shota having a fake mustache would arise in this convo. however, the laughter eventually died down and intak turned serious. he turned to y/n and grabbed her hands, which were now out of her pockets.

“listen, i need to talk about the main reason i wanted to talk. please don’t say anything until i’m done.” he was dead serious, y/n nodded and pushed down any jokes she could’ve made in the moment. “we’ve been fake dating for a couple months now. we both know the original reason this started. but y/n… i really like spending time with you, like a lot. you’re funny, gorgeous, caring, and so much more. i didn’t plan it but i thought this was just gonna be some fun side quest activity. the more time i spent with you and got to actually know you and your personality, the more i started to actually like you. i tried to fight it off because i mean this relationship wasn’t real and i’m your brothers friend, but i can’t help it. i really… really want this to be real. we get along so well, and there’s a connection. what i really called you out here for was to ask this. i really really like you, could i have the honor of being your boyfriend?”

the long speech was followed by silence. one blink, two blinks, no words. embarrassment gnaws at intak who immediately started to regret asking out of fear of her not feeling the same. yet, he didn’t say anything and let her take her time.

“intak, i didn’t know you felt that way. i feel like this is very sudden though. i need to think about this before i answer, im so sorry” intak nodded and gave her hands a squeeze before letting go. “i’ll text you, i just need to think.” she said again before standing up.

“that’s okay” he gave her a small, yet warm smile. his cheeks were red and his hair was getting damp from the snow. y/n reached forward and pulled his jacket hat onto his head.

“you should get home before you get sick… it’s cold and you don’t have a hat.” the words left her mouth quietly, but intak still heard since the night was quiet was well.

“you should get back as well”

y/n nodded and put her hands back in her pockets, “i’ll see you.” she said and began making her exit of the park and going back home, leaving intak standing in the cold. by time she got in her car and started driving away, intak made his way to his car, waving as she backed out the parking spot.

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taglist (closed): @cloudmrk @yyangj3lly @vehaez @mmjhh1998 @gomdoleemyson @alethea-moon @jkslvsnella @starfilledgaze @solvrse @dudekiss3r @nattan127 @nerdsungie @lovesuhng @tokitosun @dokgrayson @222brainrot @jakeshuneybby @antifrggile @cyjzzl @nctseventeensworld @bloomyroses @doughyk @lovefooi @chaerinmin @chenlesfavorite @urlocalbeaner5 @thegracerammy @lionzyon @fairyoflia @haefelt @sunflowerbebe07 @seventeeneration @apolloxxivmin @onlyhyunjin @pinklemonade34 @adorwooks @angelpiixie @jkxlvrr @hisrkive @sunghoonsgfreal @zzurao @mango-bear @bee-the-loser @callita @lttlekomori @neozon3nha @calssunflower @natokkiz @joonsprettygf

notes: lalala guess who finished finals, passed all their classes, and got back to work again this week (i need to make all the money i can over break for psyfe and 127 concerts) 🙂‍↕️

[ylangelegy]

all seok wants for christmas 🎄 seokmin x reader.

your fellow glee club member, seokmin, has been trying to confess to you for the better half of the past three years. key word: trying. maybe a christmas duet is in order to get the message across.

🎄 includes: alternate universe: non-idol, alternate universe: glee club. seokmin has a crush, confessions, fluff. word count: 1.4k 🎄 @tusswrites, surprise! it's me! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ hope you enjoy this little drabble, which i wrote while looping the glee version of all i want for christmas is you. love you lots and merry, merry christmas, my light! 🎄 this was written as part of cam&em studios' a very seventeen christmas secret santa event.

Seokmin has tried to confess to you seventeen and a half times.

He's done nearly everything in his power to get the message across. A letter in your locker? Check. An orchestrated, one-on-one walk in the rain? Check. Hell, he even begged Joshua to lock you two in the club room that one time.

It seems Seokmin's efforts are all futile— because you remain blissfully unaware of the fact he's kind of in love with you.

"No plans of giving up yet, Seok?"

The hushed question drags Seokmin out of his reverie. Mingyu at least had the decency to whisper the query, but Seokmin still instinctively looks towards you to check if you might have overheard. You look none the wiser as you engage in a conversation with Wonwoo.

Seokmin's grumbled response of "shut up" only makes Mingyu snicker.

"Year three of being down baaad," the taller man teases, sing-songing the words to vex Seokmin just a little more. It works; Seokmin elbows his friend in the side.

"I'll figure it out," Seokmin huffs, even though that's something he's said at least once a month since he first realized how he feels for you.

The glee club meeting of the day kicks off with Seungkwan offering reminders and pointers for the upcoming national show choir competition. Try as he might, Seokmin can't really bring himself to listen.

His focus is entirely on you.

From where he's seated, he can onlysee the side of your face, and he truly tries not to make his staring obvious. His friends have all teased him relentlessly for wearing his heart on his sleeve yet failing to offer that very heart to you when it matters.

Honestly? Seokmin feels like he's running out of ways to confess.

He's so caught up in his moping that he doesn't immediately register Seungkwan addressing him. Seokmin only snaps to attention when Mingyu knocks his knee.

"Hm?" Seokmin looks to Seungkwan. "Sorry, what was that?"

There's a ripple of laughter throughout the room. In the corner of his eye, Seokmin can see you biting back a smile. It makes the tips of his ears burn with embarrassment.

"I said," Seungkwan repeats exasperatedly. "I was hoping you could perform a Christmas song for the next club meeting."

Seokmin blinks once, then twice. Right. He was slotted to perform next week. "A Christmas song," he echoes, his mind still trying to sort through its thoughts of you. "Gotcha."

He's convinced that that's all there will be to it until Seungkwan goes on, "It could even be a duet, if that makes things easier for you."

Seokmin is just a second too late to the punch line, because you're already raising your hand. You look just the appropriate amount of excited as you call out, "I'd love to do a duet with Seok, if he'll have me."

He nearly chokes on air then and there.

If he'll have you? How can you say something like that and expect him to not want to pass out?

Mingyu is visibly fighting the urge to burst into laughter. Seungkwan has that annoying, knowing look on his face. None of it matters to Seokmin, though, because in that very moment, he realizes that maybe he has one more confession up his sleeve.

It's a mammoth task, keeping his expression under control as he meets your gaze. You're sporting that smile he loves so much— the one that steals the air from his lungs.

That's why Seokmin's tone is just a little bit breathless as he says, "Of course."

He's saying yes to the duet, sure.

But he's also saying yes to the treacherous prospect of having you and wanting you.

"Baby, It's Cold Outside is off the table."

Seokmin isn't at all surprise with your opening statement. It draws an affectionate laugh from him, even, because having known you for so long gives him some sense of what you like and what you don't.

The two of you decided to meet up outside of school hours to discuss and practice your impending performance. It was far from the first time that you were out together, though it was the first time the two of you were slotted to sing together.

"I can't believe we haven't done a duet yet," you say amusedly as you scroll through your Spotify playlist for prospects.

"It's criminal, isn't it?" Seokmin muses with a coolness that he could almost applaud himself for. He's acting like his usual self on the outside, but his mind is running a mile an hour as he imagines how to execute this.

One chance. He has one chance to get this right.

"We can be Christina Aguilera and Brian McKnight," he suggests delicately. "A little Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas moment."

You let out a thoughtful hum. "I don't think I can hit Aguilera's notes," you admit with a giggle.

Seokmin chuckles along. He's not miffed by your contradiction. This is all part of his master plan.

"Is Happy Christmas, War Is Over too serious?" you ask.

"A little too solemn for my taste."

"Fair."

The two of you exchange suggestions back and forth for the next half hour until Seokmin decides it's finally time to pull out the big guns. "How about we stick to a classic?" he prompts, his tone innocent as ever.

You roll your shoulders as you glance at him inquisitively.

Seokmin clears his throat, at least a dozen platitudes running through his mind. Now or never. You miss a hundred percent of the shots you don't take. Just do it.

"Mariah Carey," he says. "All I Want For Christmas Is You?"

There's a terribly long moment where Seokmin thinks you're going to deny him. He doesn't really have a backup for this, doesn't have a Plan B. His breath stills in his chest as he waits for your response of—

"Hey, I think we can pull that one off."

Seokmin just barely holds himself back from pumping his fist in the air.

It's a miracle that Seokmin makes it to the day of your performance. His leg is bouncing up and down. His palms are sweating like crazy. He's been through Sectionals and Regionals, but he hadn't been this nervous in any of those contests.

Does it help that the two of you decided to color coordinate clothes? Seokmin isn't sure. The pair of you look like a couple now, which only seems to do more harm than good on his poor, poor heart.

At this point, all he can do is straighten out his checkered button down and hope he doesn't keel over mid-song.

"Ready?" you ask, your voice betraying no hint of your own nerves.

Seokmin shoots you a tight-lipped smile. "As I'll ever be," he lies.

Seungkwan works on queueing up the minus one. Mingyu not-so discreetly sets up his phone to film the whole thing. And Seokmin?

He takes one look at your face and decides that he may as well go out swinging.

The uptempo beats of the festive track ring through the room. Reactions to the choice are mixed. Some groan. Some cheer. Seokmin, once again, could care less what any of them feel or think. He has a plan, and he will see it through.

Your honeyed, dulcet tone effectively shuts up anyone who might've doubted the two of you.

I don't want a lot for Christmas, you croon. There is just one thing I need.

Seokmin is surprised that he manages to not melt on the spot. His fingers tighten a bit around his Bluetooth microphone, but he holds it together enough to join you.

I don't need to hang my stocking there upon the fireplace, he sings. Santa Claus won't make me happy with a toy on Christmas Day.

As the track goes on, some of Seokmin's nerves ease. Being around you has always been easy; his little plan doesn't change that. The two of you execute the duet with effortless chemistry, trading saccharine verses and middling dance steps like the two of you have been singing together for ages.

It exhilarates Seokmin, gives him just enough courage for what he's about to do.

The song is winding to a close. You're in a club room full of some of your closest friends, all of whom are watching you two like hawks. But with the way you're looking up at Seokmin, the way you're singing with him, to him, you might as well be the only two people in the whole world.

Make my wish come true, you belt out.

Oh, baby. Seokmin's heart is in his throat. He pushes on.

All I want for Christmas is—

He stutters. You blink up at him. Confused, concerned.

He says the word instead of singing it— the single, intentional choice carrying the weight of everything he has tried and failed to tell you so far.

"You."

[tomriddleswhcre]

| Dark Tendrils of Obsession

warnings: MDNI, characters are 18+, manipulation, toxic relationship.

words: 3,773

Hogwarts Library was a haven for the wanderlusters. Seamless rows of bookshelves went on for ever towards the horizon, holding access to all the knowledge someone could want. Here you first experienced the pressure of his stare.

Tom Riddle sat a few tables away, his dark eyes never quite leaving you. There was a perfection about him, a crispness in his bearing, and a captivating draw in his mannerly grace. He was polite at first. Courteous, even. His smile, restrained yet charming, made you feel special in a way that was both intoxicating and unsettling.

“Reading about alchemy, are you?" His voice was soft on the ear, so velvety, beneath the skin easy to burrow.

You nodded, too startled to respond immediately. “Yes, just... curious about the theories.”

"They are shallow and just care about pointless activities. However," he fixed his gaze on yours and said, "You have depth."

From then on, he was constantly present. Helping you while studying, sitting on the nearby bench with you, offering assistance, and guiding you through the dim hallways. You enjoyed his company at first. Because of his intelligence, good looks, and total allure, it seemed hard to resist him.

But then, the cracks began to show.

Tom’s love became controlling. He wouldn't let you spend time with your buddies and he would retort to you in a very calm voice, "They don't know you the way I know you," each time you tried to counter him.

If you casually mentioned a friend from another place, his smile would fade. “Why spend time with someone who’s not on your level?" he’d say.

One night, you were trapped in the library. Tom, usually calm, was acting very intense, and it made you feel uneasy.

“I’ve noticed how they look at you,” he whispered, in a low and suspenseful tone. “Do you really think they care about you? That they’ll ever truly understand who you are?”

“Tom, you’re overreacting," you said, trying to move away, but he grabbed your wrist and held you there.

"I'm the only one who understands you," he said, clutching even more tightly. “The only one who ever will.”

More and more over time Tom's orchestration of your life became oppressive. Your friends started to drift away, unsure why you were changing.

“You’re imagining things," he said one night, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I only want what’s best for you. Why can’t you see that?”

His words burrowed into your mind, planting seeds of doubt. It was a smaller world, a world of shadows, and everything seemed to revolve around Tom. He was there all the time, watching, waiting, his presence a consolation and a torment.

That evening, following another and another, argument, you ended up in the Astronomy Tower, gale blowing in your face, panting and catching your breath. His load of affection, his pathos, his fixated desire was too much to bear.

“Thinking of escaping me? Tom’s voice cut through the night like a blade.

You spun around to see him standing there, his eyes alight with something dangerous.

"Tom, I give up, I can't go on any further", you gasped, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

“You can’t leave me,” he said, stepping closer. “You belong to me.”

There was madness in his gaze now, a burning consuming everything in its way. Yet there. was a gentleness, a yearn for which your heart ached.

“I’m the only one who can save you," he said, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek. “The only one who will ever love you this much.”

In the end, you couldn’t fight him. His love was too powerful, too overwhelming. It encircled you like a vice, squeezing out and consuming until there was nothing left of the person you once were.

However, as you drew further and further into the arms of his embraces, there was a part of you asking if this is how love was supposed to knock, totally crippling, and completely inescapable.

And Tom, with his lips touching your ear, sighs the phrase that traps you. “You’re mine, and I’ll destroy anyone who tries to take you away from me."

Tom's phantom touch remained, fingertips brushing against your cheek in an almost sonorous lightness, masking the fury behind those eyes.The stars above bore witness to the storm between you—a clash of your desperate need for freedom and his relentless obsession.

“You don’t have to fight this, he murmured, his voice soft now, almost hypnotic. He moved in closer, with his breath warm on the back of your neck. “I would give you the world, but you have to let me. You have to trust me.”

You trembled not with the cold but from the unyielding impact of his aura. Your body betrayed you, moving towards his grasp even as your mind cried out for separation. His hand settled to rest upon your neck and the point of his thumb made contact with the throb of your heart.

“You feel it too, don’t you? Tom’s voice dropped lower, seductive and commanding. “This connection between us... it’s undeniable.”

Before you could protest, his lips captured yours.The kiss was anything but gentle—desperate, possessive, consuming. It was as though he was trying to claim every part of you, to mark you as his in a way that no one could ever undo.

The days that unfolded after clouded days together constituted a blur of days snatched and touches not allowed. Tom’s obsession seeped into every corner of your life, his presence a constant shadow. But beneath his calculated control lay a smoldering passion that ignited every time you were alone together.

One night he caught you in an unguarded corridor, his dark eyes blazing with a passion that caused your legs to buckle.

“I can’t stop thinking about you, he admitted, his voice trembling with raw emotion. “You’re in my mind, my veins... you’ve consumed me.”made your legs tremble.

His hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him. You gasped, the air crackling with tension as he pressed you against the cold stone wall.

"Just tell me want this," he growled, lips grazing your jaw. “Tell me you’re mine.”

“I...” The syllables got lodged in your throat, your thoughts struggling against the force of his stare. However, as soon as his mouth touched down your neck, teeth scratching the skin, a moan escaped before you could stop it.

“That’s what I thought,” he breathed into their ear, satisfaction dripping from every word.

It wasn’t long before his desire for control extended beyond your emotions. He wanted all of you—your body, your soul, your very essence. And when he took you to the Room of Requirement, its walls shifted to reflect his dark desires: rich, crimson drapes, flickering candlelight, and a bed that seemed to beckon you into its velvet embrace.

“Do you know what you do to me?” Tom said, his hands sliding beneath your robes, his contact sending shivers go down your spine. His lips touched yours once more, this time gentler, but just as demanding.

As his hands explored your body, his whispers became more fervent, his love both a worship and a torment. He held you as if he feared that you, might vanish, every touch an endearment, an affirmation that he owned you and you belonged to only him.

When he finally laid you down, his gaze bore into yours, an intensity there that made your heart race. “You’re mine,” he repeated, the words a dark oath. “Every part of you belongs to me.”

Tom's possessive nature kept its claws on every tactile sensation and his need for you growing darker and more insatiable. He didn’t just want your love; he wanted your submission, your surrender. And as much as you fought against him, there was a part of you that found solace in his embrace, in the way he made you feel like the center of his universe.

Nevertheless, beneath the passion there was always the shadow of his control. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word was a reminder that you were his—not because you chose to be, but because he had allowed it so.

And as he embraced you, his lips, forming patterns upon your body, you knew that running away was no longer a possibility. You were bound to him, entrapped in the dark, unbreakable web of his longing.

Tom’s obsession had become your prison, but you weren’t the same timid figure you once were. A faint spark, hope, somewhere down inside, a fire created out of the gray stuff of his choking adoration. You began to play his game, become drawn in by his traps, and by letting him believe he'd won.

It began with the most subtle acts of resistance disguised as acquiescence. The way your fingers gently played with the collar to adjust it for him, or when your lips graze his ear while you murmur sweet nothings to him. You learned to use his fixation as a tool, turning it into a weapon.

One night, in the hush of the Room of Requirement, you pushed a little further. The room had shifted into a lavish chamber, the dancing flame of the firelight casting shadows on the sharp features of Tom. He sat in an armchair, his posture commanding, his dark eyes watching your every move.

You stepped closer, slowly, deliberately. His eyes clouded as you climbed on his lap, straddle him.

"You think you got me, Tom," you hissed, your fingers tracing his cheek. “But maybe I’ve let you.”

His lip twitched into a smile, his arms wound around your waist. “You belong to me. You always have.”

Your hands slid down to the back of his shoulders, then his chest, fingers brushing against the faint pulse at his throat. His breath rose as your lips touched his neck, tickling and teasing just enough to elicit a groan.

“You’re intoxicating," he murmured, his voice unsteady for the first time.

You tipped the lower part of his chin upward with your fingers, brushing his lips against his. “Then let me intoxicate you.”

As he surrendered to your touch, his usual vigilance wavered. His hands closed around your waist. While his head leaned back and his eyes relaxed shut, that is when you made your move.

Your hand dropped to the wand, in the folds of your robe. Shaking slightly you raised the wand and and pushed it against his forehead.

“I’m sorry, Tom." you whispered, your voice trembling with a mixture of triumph and regret. His eyes flew open, confusion flashing across his face just as you murmured the incantation.

“Obliviate.”

Months Later

Freedom was bittersweet, though it was laced with an undercurrent of fear. Tom Riddle, once your captor in every sense, now passed you this morning in the corridor, an air of detached curiosity. His memory of you–the longing, the intimacy, the space—was gone.

At first, you didn’t believe it. You half expected him to lash out, to corner you and demand answers. However, days, weeks or months passed and Tom continued to be oblivious.

You began to rebuild your life. Friends returned, laughter rang true once more, and the choking weight of his presence faded. But a part of you never truly relaxed. You knew that if Tom ever remembered, his wrath would be unstoppable.

It happened one day in the library. Tom, alone, with his hands moving rapidly across the page of a book creased his forehead. A flicker of something familiar crossed his face—a spark of recognition, of understanding.

Memories came rushing back like a tidal wave, each one sharper than the last. The feel of your body against his, the fire in your eyes, the way you whispered his name—and the betrayal.

The anger boiled within him, but he did not act immediately. Instead, he watched, waited, planned.

It was late at night when he found you sneaking through the halls. Moonlight poured through the stained glass, forming a mosaic on the stone floor as you moved softly, book clutched.

"Out past curfew, are we?” His voice was hushed and ironic, the words making you stiff as a statue. You turned slowly, your heart racing as you saw him standing there, his Prefect badge glinting in the dim light. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes burned with something dangerous.

“I—was just returning this,” you stammered, holding up the book as if it would shield you from him.

Tom’s lips curled into a predatory smile. “Breaking the rules, are we? That’s a detention, I’m afraid.”

Before you could protest, his hand shot out, gripping your wrist. His touch was firm but not painful, his grip unrelenting as he led you through the dark halls.

“Tom, I can explain,” you started, but he silenced you with a sharp look.

“Oh, you’ll explain, alright,” he said, his tone dripping with menace. “You’ll explain everything.”

He brought you to a small, hidden room—a Prefect’s storage room rarely used. The door shut with a thud, and the silence that followed was deafening.

“I remember,” he said simply, stepping closer. His voice was calm, but his eyes betrayed his fury. “I remember everything.”

You took a step back, but he advanced, backing you against the wall.

“You thought you could erase me? Take what was mine and walk away unscathed?” His voice was dangerously low, his hand bracing against the wall beside your head.

“Tom, please,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I had no choice—”

“You had every choice,” he snapped, his other hand gripping your chin and forcing you to meet his gaze. “And you chose to betray me.”

His lips brushed against your ear as he spoke, his voice a mix of anger and something darker. “But you didn’t account for one thing: I always get what I want. Always.”

His hands found your wrists, pinning them above your head as he leaned closer. “Do you know what I want now?”

Tom’s grip on your wrists tightened, his face mere inches from yours. His breath was warm against your skin, yet the fire in his eyes chilled you to your core.

“You think you’re clever, don’t you?” His voice was a low growl, dangerous and laced with venom. “Erasing my memories, taking away what’s mine. Do you think that could ever stop me?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, his lips crashed against yours. It wasn’t a kiss born of love or tenderness; it was fury incarnate. His mouth moved against yours with bruising force, his hands sliding to your waist, pinning you against the cold wall as though he wanted to imprint himself onto your very soul.

Your heart raced as your mind warred with your body. His touch was fire, scorching and unyielding, and yet some traitorous part of you leaned into him, matching his intensity.

Tom pulled back suddenly, leaving you gasping for air. A smirk curled his lips as he studied your dazed expression. “Pathetic,” he muttered, his tone dripping with mockery.

He stepped back, smoothing his hair as though the encounter hadn’t affected him in the slightest.

True to his word, Tom made your life a living hell. He was calculated in his cruelty, never overt enough to be caught but always precise in his attacks.

Your friends began to distance themselves, their once-warm smiles replaced by wary glances. Whispers followed you wherever you went, rumors planted by Tom’s silver tongue. Professors scolded you for assignments that mysteriously went missing, and your once-perfect quillwork was replaced by jagged, ink-stained parchment.

Every glance from him in the corridors felt like a blade to the chest. His smirk grew wider with each passing day, as if he was savoring your descent into isolation.

By the time you reached your breaking point, you felt like a shadow of yourself. That night, driven by desperation and rage, you stormed into the Prefect’s dormitory, your fists trembling at your sides.

The door slammed open, and there he was. Tom Riddle sat on his bed, shirtless, his pale skin glowing in the candlelight. A book rested in his hands, though his gaze lifted lazily to meet yours. A knowing smirk played on his lips, as if he’d been expecting you.

“Ah, here she is,” he drawled, closing the book with deliberate care. “The little rebel finally comes crawling back.”

“Stop it!” you shouted, your voice cracking. “You’ve done enough, Tom! Please—just leave me alone!”

He raised an eyebrow, setting the book aside as he leaned back against the headboard. “Leave you alone?” he echoed, mockery dripping from every word. “You didn’t seem to mind my attention before.”

Tears stung your eyes, and you dropped to your knees, the weight of everything too much to bear. “I’m sorry,” you choked out, the words trembling on your lips. “I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have erased your memories.”

Tom stood, his tall frame towering over you as he approached. The smirk on his face widened as he looked down at your tear-streaked face.

“Oh, you’re sorry now?” he said, his voice low and mocking. “And what, exactly, are you sorry for? For betraying me? For thinking you could escape me? Or for underestimating just how much I could destroy you?”

Your sobs grew louder, and you shook your head. “I’ll do anything,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Just stop... please.”

Tom crouched in front of you, his hand gripping your chin to tilt your face up to meet his. His dark eyes burned with satisfaction, a predator reveling in the surrender of his prey.

“Anything?” he repeated, his lips curling into a cruel smile.

You nodded, your breath hitching as his thumb brushed your lower lip.

“You’re right,” he said, his voice soft but deadly. “You shouldn’t have done it. You shouldn’t have crossed me. And now you’re here, on your knees, begging me to forgive you.”

He straightened, his hand sliding into your hair. The motion was firm but not painful, his fingers tangling in your locks as he pulled your face closer to his waist.

“Tell me,” he murmured, his voice dripping with mockery, “if I gave you the chance... would you dare to do it again?”

You shook your head, tears slipping down your cheeks as his grip tightened.

“Good,” he said, his smirk widening. “Because I can promise you this—you’ll regret what you did for the rest of your life.”

Tom’s smirk deepened as he held you there, his grip firm but deliberate. The tension in the room was suffocating, his presence overwhelming. You felt his eyes boring into you, watching your every move, every tremble of your body beneath his power.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice soft but laced with disdain. “The once defiant little thing, so bold, so eager to stand against me. And now?” He tilted your head slightly, his fingers tightening in your hair. “You’re exactly where you belong—on your knees, apologizing like the pathetic creature you are.”

Your lips quivered as you tried to speak, to muster any kind of retort, but the words failed you.

“Shhh,” he whispered, pressing a finger to your lips. “Don’t speak unless I tell you to.”

He pulled you back slightly, forcing you to look up at him. His expression was unreadable now, a dangerous mix of triumph and something darker, something almost tender.

“You said you’d do anything to make this right,” he said, his thumb brushing your cheek. “But you can’t undo the damage you’ve caused. You can’t undo the months I lost—the nights I spent consumed by thoughts of you, not understanding why I felt so... incomplete.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered again, your voice cracking.

His hand slid to your jaw, gripping it firmly as he leaned closer. “I don’t think you understand what sorry means,” he said, his breath ghosting over your lips. “But don’t worry—I’ll teach you.”

He straightened abruptly, releasing you and stepping back. His smirk returned as he crossed his arms, watching you struggle to compose yourself.

“Stand up,” he commanded.

You hesitated, your legs trembling as you pushed yourself to your feet.

“Good,” he said, his tone approving. “Now, take a good look around this room. Do you know what it represents?”

You shook your head, unsure of where he was going.

“This,” he gestured to the dark, intimate space, “is where you’ll come when you need reminding of who you belong to. Of who you owe everything to.”

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Don’t think for a second that this is over,” he continued, his voice growing softer, more dangerous. “You’ve unleashed something in me, something that won’t stop until I’ve had my revenge. But I’m not in a hurry.”

He stepped closer, his hand brushing against your arm, making you flinch.

“No,” he murmured, his lips inches from your ear. “I’m going to take my time. I’m going to make you regret what you did in ways you can’t even imagine.”

Tom didn’t let up. His torment became more personal, more intimate. He would appear at the most unexpected times, his voice soft and mocking as he reminded you of your place. He continued to twist the people around you, isolating you further, but now he did it with a calculated cruelty, ensuring that you felt his presence even when he wasn’t there.

And yet, there were moments where his anger seemed to waver, replaced by something almost... longing. Late at night, when he cornered you in an empty corridor or brushed against you in the library, his touch would linger, his gaze softening for the briefest of moments.

You hated yourself for noticing. Hated yourself more for the way your body betrayed you, responding to his closeness despite everything he’d done.

One night, after weeks of torment, you found yourself summoned to the same secluded room where this all began. Tom was waiting, his expression unreadable as he gestured for you to sit.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said, his tone deceptively calm. “Perhaps I’ve been too harsh on you. Perhaps I should offer you a chance to redeem yourself.”

You frowned, unsure of his intentions. “What do you mean?”

He leaned forward, his dark eyes locking onto yours. “Prove to me that you’ve learned your lesson. That you understand what it means to be mine.”

Your heart sank as you realized what he was asking.

“And if I refuse?” you whispered.

His smile widened, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Oh, you won’t refuse. Because you know what’s waiting for you if you do.”

Whew, this one took me quite a while to finish! Hope you enjoyed that manipulative mf, Tom—hehehe.

Your likes and reblogs mean the world to me—thank you so much! Love you!

devider from @cyberangel-graphics :>

[hpgal]

DC X DP: VACATION TO A DIFFERENT UNIVERSE Pt. 1

CW: mentions of death

TLDR: Danny is stressed and depressed feeling like despite all the changes in his life, he feels like he is still the same.

Word Count: 1310

a/n: I plan on making multiple parts to this one but it will take some time. This is more a draft to part 1 than anything else and will most likely end up on AO3 in the future as a more completed version of itself once it is done here on Tumblr. Any feedback and suggestions (or even if you want to continue this plot with your own spin on it as long as I am credited/ tagged so I can read it too!) is very much welcomed!!

Danny wanted a change.

Not just for fun either. Though fun would be nice between all these Ghost King responsibilities he had been forced to start learning for when he comes of age, or well not, technically?

He doesn't know! It's complicated! He was 17 now, but his ghost age was only 3! The Observants said to fully assume the throne his ghost age was supposed to be 18 at the youngest but they'd make an exception for when he was 18 in the living realm.

Ghee, thanks you weirdos, because I totally wanted my adult life to already be over so I can manage my undead life.

Anyways, between trying to graduate and learn his forever job, he had been going to therapy now that he isn't the only ghost fighter in town. He has breaks! A support system! 14 year old Danny would never believe his parents accepted him for his ghostly side!!

His friends learned to fight and trap so well over the years that they don't even need him by their side anymore for every fight. The GIW was chased out of town and supposedly disbanded by the government because "it was a scam and ghosts don't actually exist." Even his parent's business was booming in town.

They started leaving the field work to others and focused on research. They hold ghost defense classes 3 times a week for any and all citizens. They build home defense gadgets and other anti ghost equipment to sell to the town, too. There are even kids from his class who want to get into the field now and intern at FentonWorks.

Over the years, everyone in town has grown incredibly capable of handling ghosts themselves that there is a city funded ghost protection task force. And that is all to deal with the ghosts that are more on the unruly side.

The reality is that it is not exactly necessary anymore to always be prepared for the next daily ghost attack. Since it became public knowledge for the Ghost Zone that he'd be assuming the throne, most ghosts have opted to leave Amity Park alone since it was his haunt. However, he has opened it up to any ghost who wants to visit as long as they do not leave Amity Park. And so, ghosts and the living live in harmony in the town.

In his senior year, the town has become so open to ghosts that when a ghost whose obsession is teaching, they hired him at Casper High! Danny is even in the class. He teaches an elective on astronomy, something the school could never afford. Ghosts didn't want to be paid in cash, so it helped! All Dr. Denver wants was to teach and to be allowed to claim the observatory for his research.

But while all this was great, Danny felt depressed. Which leads him back to why he was in therapy. It felt like all these amazing things have happened. That everyone has changed, except him. Thanks to his halfa status, his physical state isn't changing as much either. He discovered he is aging much, much slower.

Talking to his therapist, she helped him realize that what he craved was for a change for himself. Sure, he IS going to become The Infinite Realms king and that'll be a big change but it isn't what he wants.

He doesn't know what he wants, really. Which meant his therapist has given him an assignment to figure it out. So he talked to Clockwork, naturally hoping for some help. And Clockwork told him something surprising instead.

"Yeah, I'm ready for a change, but I don't know what to change." Danny told him in hopes the wording would draw Clockwork to give him an answer instead of something cryptic. He really didn't want to do the legwork to figure it out while he had midterms to study for and more ghost king lessons with The Observants later.

Clockwork paused as if in thought, "You could take a vacation to your universe of origin," he suggests. "That may help give clarity in what you need to change to be happy."

Danny floated next to him. He couldn't bring himself to be frustrated with the being of time for knowing exactly why Danny was here. Instead, he stared at him in confusion, distracted by what he just said, "What do you mean? I am not from here?"

He grins, his form flickering from old to young, "When you became a halfa, you changed universes from the complicated process you went through to become one."

Danny contemplated for a moment, confused but intrigued. A different universe? I wonder how different it would be from here. Without a second thought, Danny grins eager.

"I wanna go!" He exclaims like a young puppy who discovered a new toy for the first time.

"That would not be a problem, time runs differently between there and here. A week there will be an hour here so you won't need a time medallion." Clockwork simply looks off into the space surrounding them before continuing, "I have a friend who will act as your guardian while there. Head through the star shaped door near the Yetis whenever you are ready and he will be standing by, waiting for you" He shifts back into an older version of himself, pleased with himself for already knowing Danny would be taking this chance to go and made the preparations for this moment weeks ago.

Danny does a small dance in midair without a second thought and starts to drift off in that direction, "Oh, and Danny?" Clockwork calls out, "Legally, you are dead in that universe and.. well, much is different from what you know, so do be careful. Due to how time and the laws of that dimension for being such as myself, I am not the main ruler of time there, so the protection spells I placed on you are not guaranteed to save you this time." Clockwork grins knowingly towards Danny as Danny speeds off, oblivious to how serious his warning was.

---

Danny flies like the wind through the vastness of The Ghost Zone until he arrives at the door Clockwork described. His thoughts start to sour at the thought of this universe where he is considered dead despite it being his origin.

The door he arrives at is huge. Like he was not sure how to open the door huge. But wow, was it beautiful. It was like staring into space itself. It sparkled unlike any night sky he has even gazed upon. As he approached the beautiful door, he hesitated.

He was technically returning home, but he didn't feel any attachment to the universe in front of him. To him, nothing seemed different. Everything was exactly the same when he woke up after the accident, so he never noticed. The entire idea that he abandoned his family and friends by dying here was a horrible thought, but it wasn't his fault. He didn't know what happened here.

Wait, did that mean Vlad wasn't from that universe either? Danny shakes his head at the thought. It was pointless to fall down that particular rabbit hole now.

Maybe he should've asked Clockwork more before flying off without a thought. Clockworks words echoed inside him for fear of what he might find. Was this really a good idea? To return to the place he no longer existed? Could he handle seeing what the grief of his passing had done to those he loved?

A moment passes, and Danny shakes his head and steels himself. He needs to know how much changes, if he really did make an impact. Was he important?

With his decision made, the door seems to open itself. A bright beam of a soft white light floods through the threshold, and Danny steps through.

[yellowjestertfs]

Altered State: Part Five

Alright second to last part! Read Part Four, Three, Two, and One here if you haven't. Just a warning, part is more action oriented then the others but still has the same tf and progression elements. Currently I am in the process of writing the epilogue which is a bit of a mess at the moment so the last part might be a few weeks (sorry) but hopefully not too long. Anyways enjoy and thanks for reading!

Edward's mind worked feverishly, processing his thoughts as fast as he could with his 19 intelligence. Part of him wanted to blow off the quest. The possibility of being a level one wretch, if defeated, seemed too big a risk to take. On the other hand, the love potion offered as a reward was excruciatingly tempting. The decision was made for him, Leon scooped him up in a firm fireman’s hold and then still naked, sprinted out the door and into the cool night, moving at a pace Edward couldn’t quite believe. 

His strides were effortless and long, and even with the added weight of Edward, Leon made an amazing time. The row of frat houses that everyone called “fratrow” was four blocks away. Leon reached in just less than a minute hardly even winded. 

It was fairly obvious which house was Sigma Alpha’s. Besides having the Greek letters emblazoned on its front, it was the only house on the row with loud music and voices coming from the backyard.

Leon set Edward down and it took a few seconds for him to get his bearings. According to Trent’s texts, the Alpha Sigma frat bros weren’t letting anyone leave. Edward had no idea why but he couldn’t imagine it was for any good reason. The backyard, enclosed by a seemingly hastily erected high wooden fence was where everyone was congregated. Two frat guys with their arms crossed stood outside, seemingly guarding the entrance to the backyard, and also the way out. 

Just above the fence, Edward could see the tip of a white-domed object peeking out. It looked like a satellite dish connected to the top of a projector screen connected with random metal scraps and duct tape. Sure enough, Edward could see a place on the side of the large two-story house with loose wires sticking out of it where the satellite dish was presumably held before.

The seconds ticked by. They had less than sixteen minutes remaining. “Alright, I’ll check out the backyard, and see if I can get everyone out. You need to go into the house and see if you can find Hunter or Alvis and shut down whatever it is they are planning” Edward said, the pressure making him decisive. As the one with the highest intelligence, if only by a few points, he felt responsible for making a plan. 

“You want us to split up?” Leon asked incredulously. 

“We have to. Besides you're much better equipped to do actual fighting.” Edward found his eyes drifting over to one of Leon’s strong pump pecs. He suddenly remembered that Leon was naked, a very easy thing to forget with Leon’s Naked Confidence perk. That meant he wasn’t carrying a phone, not that that would have been useful with Edward’s being basically dead. “If either one of us is in trouble make a bird sound or something. 

“A bird sound, are you for real?” Leon asked rolling his eyes. The comment broke Edward’s moment of seriousness and he moved to punch his friend in the arm, but then remembered the effect of his touch and thought better of it. 

“Shut up. Just call for help.” They now had only fifteen minutes left. “We got to go, stay safe.”

Edward pounded a fist against his muscular chest and faint hollow metallic sounds rang out. “Don’t worry about me.” Then in a genuine tender way, Edward hardly ever heard his friend use “you be safe too. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Edward felt his heart skip a beat. This was not the time to be having these feelings but god damn was Leon good at giving mixed signals. “Bet you I’ll get take out more frat guys than you.” Leon challenged.

“Suck my dick” was all Edward said. 

“Fine, but if I win you have to suck mine.” Leon shot back. 

“You're so on,” Edward said as the two snuck forward. Edward headed for the backyard, and Leon went up the stairs and to the front door of the frat. Once Edward got closer he could make out the two frat guys stationed at the door. He didn't recognize either of them. They looked young, maybe recent pledges. Edward wasn’t overly surprised when he saw they had floating names above their heads with classes and levels, but he thought it would make this a whole lot more difficult.

Luckily neither of the two guards was very high level. The one on the right had a floating tag above him that labeled him as Broden, a level four Jock. The other guy was a stranger. He wore a suit jacket and tie on top and only his boxers on the bottom. His name was Harold and he was only level two in a class called an Oil Baron. Edward shuddered to think about what type of boosts a class like that would give, though if these classes followed the pattern his and Leon’s did, which was hardly a guarantee, they hopefully wouldn’t have any abilities or techniques unlocked until level five. 

Edward adopted his best approximation of a bro walk and strode forward with all the confidence he could muster. The two young frat guys seemed as if they were about to say something but stopped when they saw the name and level above his name. 

“Yoo, what are you two bozos still doing here?” Edward asked in a dumb voice. He overdid it a bit and sounded like a caveman instead of a frat guy, but he hoped his high charisma and perks might make up the difference.

The two pledges just looked at him blankly. “Hunter sent you two out to get more duct tape like an hour ago. He’s going to be so pissed.”

“But bro, Hunter told us not to leave this door,” The Jock said, in a slow confused way that made it clear his class wasn’t giving him any boosts to intelligence.

“Don’t worry about it bro, I got it. No one gets in or out, I know the deal.”

The Oil Baron opened his mouth to object but a loud crash interrupted him. Edward suspected that was Leon making his entrance. Subtly had never been his strong suit. 

“Shit bro, that’s Hunter. You can’t let him find you here, I’ll cover for you don’t worry” Edward said. Fear instantly burned in both their eyes. Without another word, they both sprinted into the night. Edward waited until they were a few streetlights away before he opened the makeshift gate. The quest “defeat lesser members” changed from 0/26 to 2/26. As Edward watched that number went up to 3/26 then 4/26, presumably thanks to Leon. Edward would have to work faster if he wanted to win their bet.

Inside the party was packed like sardines. Judging from Trent’s texts Edward had expected people to be clambering to get out by the door but most people still danced and drank, unaware that they had been unable to leave in the first place. Edward navigated his way through the backyard. It was then that Edward missed the invisibility of being ugly. The second he entered the party nearly everyone was all over him. Strangers started to grind up on him, offered him drinks, and tried to chat him up. It made moving through the crowd a nightmare. His perks didn’t help matters either. His pheromones caused the people flirting around him to progress to making out and caused those already making out to progress further into outright indecent behavior. Edward did his best to avoid skin-to-skin contact but it was inevitable in a crowd so packed, he heard several yelps as people suddenly felt orgasmic pleasure on their skin anywhere Edward’s hands accidentally. 

Eventually, Edward reached the bubble of relative calm around the projector screen. He saw Trent and Tag talking to each other in low voices by one side of the fence, clearly unaware that the way out was open now. Edward briefly thought about going over to them but he knew neither would recognize him and he didn't have time for lengthy explanations. He needed to get everyone out, and quick. 

Edward glanced and saw two more frat guys standing by the door to the house while four others worked on the projector, taping wires down to the ground that led inside the house. All six had names, classes, and levels above their heads. Edward stopped walking realizing if he could see their level then they could undoubtedly see his. Sure enough, a level nine Keg Commander started walking towards him briskly. He looked older and in charge, and Edward doubted he could resort to trickery to deal with him like before.

Edward ducked back into the crowd, hoping the chaos would obscure his floating name tag. No luck, the Keg Commander along with two other floating tags, a level six Crypto Bro, and a level seven Hype Beast moved towards him. Edward pushed his way through the crowd much less carefully this time. More couples, affected by his pheromones got nasty with each other right there in the backyard, which Edward hoped would make the chase more difficult for his pursuers.

Edward heard a crash from inside the house. He checked the counter to see it was now at 6/26. Edward hoped Leon was being safe. He heard another noise, like a loud bubbling. Edward risked a glance behind him and saw the level nine Keg Commander wave his hand over a beer keg, the thing started shaking violently before it took off into the air like a bottle rocket. 

“Shit” Edward yelled reflexively, diving sideways into a group of guys who all let out sounds of shock and moans of pleasure as Edward pressed up against them. Edward’s dodge hadn’t been necessary. The keg went wide, flying over the party and landing with a bang in the neighbor's yard, spraying the gathered crowd with beer as it flew.

Edward kept moving, circling back around to the wall of the house. Behind him, the hype beast was letting out loud whoops and hollers that seemed to be riling up the crowd even further. The music started to build up to a beat drop and people started to mosh making it even harder for Edward to move through the crowd. Edward spied the source of the music, a giant speaker, at least the height of his chest. One of the frat guys, a level five DJ stood by it, making strange motions with his hands which caused the music to change in volume rapidly in a nauseating way. A plan formed in Edward's mind, with only thirteen minutes left he needed to be bold.

Edward made his way towards the speaker, careful to avoid the Crypto Bro who tried to cut him off. Once he was close Edward rolled up his sleeve and dove out of the crowd, running for the plug connecting the speaker to the outlet. The DJ tried to grab at him but Edward twisted so that he grabbed his arm instead. The bare contact with his flesh and the intense pleasure that resulted from it was enough to cause the DJ to drop his grip. Edward grabbed the plug and yanked. The loud music suddenly cut off, and there was a second of silence as the whole party looked toward the speaker questioningly. Edward took advantage of that moment. He climbed on top of the speaker and screamed a word as loud as he could manage. 

“Flee” he yelled, the word echoing loud and powerful as he imbued it with the energy of his Silver Tongue technique. His energy pool which had fully regenerated in the hours he had spent with Leon now dropped to 14/19. 

The effect was immediate and jarring. Every single person at the party fled in a wave emanating from Edward. The exit quickly clogged as hundreds of people all tried to leave the party at once. Edward watched horrified at the stampede he had created as students pushed at each other to get out as if death itself were chasing after them. Some students in their haste to get out decided to climb the tall fence, jumping off it into the neighboring yards before continuing to run into the night. 

In a matter of seconds, the entire backyard was empty and silent. Edward stood on the speaker, amazed at his own power. Though he had feared someone might be trampled it seemed that everyone had gotten out safe at least. It was a good reminder to him though that he needed to be careful with this power. 

His words had caught up a fair number of the frat guys causing them to flee as well. The counter now read 15/26, though he wasn’t sure how many of those he could take credit for. Still, Edward suspected he was kicking Leon’s ass when it came to their bet. He also noted that the quest item “Put a stop to the legion’s plans” was still marked as incomplete, meaning whatever it was they were planning involved more than just trapping students in their backyard. Edward thought of the love potion again and felt a nauseating mix of hope and guilt.  

Edward didn't have long to revel in his victory. From the second floor, he heard another loud crash then the unmistakable sound of an Owl’s hoot, or Leon’s best attempt at one, in truth it sounded more like a fart noise.

In a second Edward was off the speaker and racing toward the house. He entered a side door into the kitchen. Six low-level frat guys were inside, protected from Edward’s ability by the thick glass door. All of them were looking at the empty backyard in shock. They were even more shocked when the level eleven Snake charmer ran in. 

Edward didn’t have a thought in his head except the safety of his best friend. “Defend me,” he said, embossing the words with another ten of his remaining energy points, leaving him with only four more. Instantly the frat guy's faces went from confused to blank as they robotically followed him into the hallway and up the stairs as Edward followed where the wires connecting to the project screen led.

Edward raced upwards two stairs at a time towards the sounds of voices and struggles. A circle of frat guys, most of them level ten or higher encircled the kneeling form of Leon. Two purple and white bands bound both of Leon's wrists to the floor despite the obvious effort he was exerting to free himself.  A level fourteen Pledge Master with a sinister look to him held a red solo cup to Leon’s lips and was saying something in a low scolding voice too soft for Edward to hear with all the blood rushing in his ears.

Edward let out a yell as he and his frat protectors charged forward in the doomed defense of his best friend.

-

Leon strained at the colorful bamboo restraints binding him to the floor. The harder he struggled the tighter the traps bound him. He activated his Inner Strength ability and wrenched upwards, it was a bad idea. The sudden burst of strength was redoubled against him and he was forced to his knees, naked body beginning to sweat with the effort. Above him the level thirteen Prankster laughed. He had the same flawless complexion as Edward that indicated a high charisma, only his features looked mischievous and impish, nothing like the kind angelic features of his friend. 

Leon still found it hard to believe that god of a man he had slept with was Edward. And yet when he looked hard he could see the resemblance. His eyes had the same gentle genuineness in them, his lips, now thick and oh so kissable, still twitched the same way when he wanted to laugh but was trying to be serious. 

The Prankster above Edward let out a laugh that bordered on deranged as he watched Leon struggle. He and his other two frat brothers circled around Leon, a level ten Drug Pusher, and a level eleven Vape Mage, moved aside for a new figure. This one, a tall skinny man with dark hair and dark handsome features that made it clear he was also a charisma class, walked forward. His dark perfect eyebrows arched sharply, making him look like a cartoon villain. The floating name tag above him listed him as a level fourteen Pledge Master. Leon recognized him as one of them men who had been with Hunter earlier that day during the with the Dagorhir players, thought he hadn’t been nearly so handsome or intimidating when they had first clashed. Those events now felt like a lifetime ago. 

His hands glowed with an eerie brown light then a red solo cup appeared in them, full of a sloshing brown liquid inside Leon didn’t think was beer. “We have a new pledge I see. Hunter told me to watch out for you.” He took a step closer and a strange aura washed over Leon, he suddenly felt as if he would do anything this man told him to. It made him sick, nothing like the warm feeling he got from being around Edward. “You can join our frat if that's what you really want, but first don’t you know that new pledges have to suffer.” 

Leon blanched. He hoped Edward hadn’t heard the bird sound he had made when he was first trapped. He hoped Edward would escape now while he could. These frat guys were too powerful, too high-level. Leon had no idea how they had managed to gain so much experience in such little time. They must have received their classes after Leon and Edward had and yet even the two Leon had faced downstairs had been nearly his equal in level.

Leon supposed he and Edward could have been faster if they had been more efficient, and hadn’t spent several hours fucking like bunnies. Still, if those were to be Leon’s last moments on earth he was endlessly glad at how he spent them. He only wished he had told Edward how he felt, though that would require him to first understand what it was he felt, which was mostly confused.

Since the day they met in freshman orientation, Edward had been his best friend, his partner in everything. There had never been even a hint of anything more though. Leon was straight and Edward wasn’t interested in him besides. Now their dynamic had shifted. For Leon it wasn’t so much a big deal he had slept with a man, sure that was new, but his attraction for Edward burned just as bright, if not brighter than any he had for a woman. The part that was making him so on edge was the fact that it was with Edward. 

Leon knew with the way Edward now looked he could have any man he wanted. There would be no reason for him to want anything more than something physical with Leon. And yet Leon could swear that he saw something more than lust in those expressive eyes. He knew it was probably wishful thinking.

It wasn’t particularly worth dwelling on though, considering Leon’s current predicament. He had been so cocky when he had first entered the house. The door had been locked but a quick Inner Strength-enhanced kick busted the thing wide open.

Inside were two frat pledges, just sitting in the entranceway as if they had been expecting him, one, a level eight Louisville Slugger gripped a wooden baseball bat in his hand. The wood was a strange ashen gray as if it had been petrified to stone. The level eight swung his bat hard into the side of Leon’s face.

Leon’s whole skull rung like a bell as the bat that felt more like stone then wood bounded off his armored skull. The man moved to swing again but Leon took a step forward and shaved the man causing him to crash back into the stairwell. The other guard, a level six Tattletale made no move to attack, instead he opened his mouth, and a grating blaring almost robotic alarm came out, filling the whole house. Leon dashed forward and slammed his hand over the man's mouth, muffling the sound but not cutting it off. Leon wrapped his hand around the man's throat and squeezed, careful not to be too rough with his prodigious strength. Within seconds the Tattletale was unconscious. Leon made sure the man was still breathing before moving out of the entranceway. The counter was now at 4/26, meaning he and Edward were tied. Leon needed to move fast if he wanted to win and get another of those life altering blowjobs from Edward. 

Still he paid one last glance at the two unconscious men and noticed something odd. Both of them seemed to be changing, shrinking. The level nine Louisville Slugger was a muscular dude, tall and clearly athletic. Yet as Leon watched the guy's muscles deflated and he shrunk in height. The level above his head changed to seven to six counting down to level one as his stats drained away. Finally, as the guy started to look plainly average his class switched to one called a “Wretch” and he was defeated further, losing muscle height and likely some charisma based on the way his face twisted unattractively and broke out with acne. The Tattletale also lost much of his charisma-enhanced beauty and became an equally pathetic level-one wretch with his friend. Leon flashed back to the note about the quest being a correctional one. He supposed the two were considered defeated and therefore suffered the punishment of failing the quest. It was a horrifying fate. Leon imagined the muscles and perks he had so come to enjoy draining away and found the thought terrifying. He couldn’t go back to his old life, he wouldn’t.

Both the Tattletale, and the load noise of kicking in the door, had ruined any chance of surprise Leon might have had. He assumed other members of the frat would soon come to investigate the noise, meaning he needed to move. Leon wasn’t exactly sure where though, several hallways with bedroom doors on either side connected to the entranceway, along with hallways connecting to a massive kitchen and eating area that ran along the back of the house. A large lounge for hosting parties or doing school work was to Leon's right, and a set of stairs right in front of him led upwards, presumably to more rooms and potentially another lounge or hang-out area. Leon wasn’t exactly sure what he was looking for, either of the bosses he supposed. He poked around a few of the hallways but they were all abandoned and all the doors were locked. Eventually, Leon decided he should go upstairs. 

That was where the trouble started. Up the stairs, there was a long landing that let off to lots more rooms. In the hallway stood four older-looking frat brothers, all with classes and levels above ten. The Prankster and the Drug Pusher noticed him first, while the Vape Mage, and level twelve Beer Pong Champion stood with their backs to him.

Leon didn’t wait for any of them to react. He rushed forward and shoved the Beer Pong Champion hard. The man went flying into a wall behind. The attack caused Leon to come into proximity with the Drug Pusher which caused his head to start to feel funny, like he was drunk and high at the same time. The effect was unbalancing enough that the Prankster was able to grab his hand. He activated some sort of ability or technique and suddenly through his hand waves of  painful electricity washed through Leon’s whole body. It felt like one of those prank hand buzzers only one hundred times more powerful. His whole body shook, completely unprotected by his armored skin. Leon was too stunned to react as the Prankster used yet another ability on him which caused those bamboo restraints he currently struggled against to bind him to the floor. Leon struggled for a few seconds before he spotted an open window that faced the backyard and made his best approximation of a bird call. 

The three frat guys looked at him funny but they were too cocky with the thrill of their catch that they didn’t seem to care. They called out for the pledge master who came out of a hallway a few moments later. Now Leon looked up at his eerily perfect face and felt a wave of revulsion and loyalty at the same time.

“Let go of him!” Leon snapped his head away from the frat guy's face as he heard a familiar voice yell.  Edward raced up the stairs trailed by six frat guys all also running. Leon could only watch as Edward flung himself at the Pledge Master, skinny body bringing the other man to the ground. To Leon’s surprise, the frat guys who Leon had assumed were chasing Edward rushed into his air, charging their own comrades with first and foot and claw in the case of one guy with the Party Animal class who turned into a puma wearing a party hat before Leon's very eyes. The Vape Mage opened his mouth and a stream of light pink smoke emerged, quickly filling the room and limiting Leon’s slight to only the area directly around him. 

Leon could just make out as the Pledge Master flipped Edward onto his back, pinning him. Edward brought one hand up to rest upon the Pledge Master’s cheek almost lovingly. The man screamed out in orgasmic pleasure and Edward used that moment to break free of his hold and flip him onto his back, the two disappearing from view into the cloud of cotton candy-smelling vape. 

Around him, Edward’s frat guys fought against their own compatriots. Though they had the numbers advantage they were younger, and less high-level, lacking the truly influential perks and abilities to match their opponents. Leon continued to struggle in vain, wanting desperately to join the fight and come to his friend's air.

Edward’s presence was like a strong clean gust of wind, clearing away the other aura and effects that had been clouding Leon’s thoughts, allowing him to think clearly for the first time since he had been trapped. He took a deep breath of the cotton candy fog. All of these classes were thematic. The ability he was trapped in was from the Prankster class, which meant it had something to do with pranks. Leon looked down at the colorful interlocking bamboo pattern of the trap and realized it looked familiar. It reminded him of those Chinese finger traps sold for tickets at arcades or behind glass counters at roller rinks. The trick to those was simple, the harder you pulled the tighter it bound. All Leon had to do was relax. He let his arms fall loose and felt the bounds on his wrist loosen, he relaxed further and suddenly he was free. 

Leon swung about in the cloud of cotton candy smoke. He caught a brief glimpse of a few different frat guys fighting with each other but in the chaos, Leon couldn’t tell which were friends and which were foes. He needed to find Edward. 

At level eleven Leon’s Inner Strength cooldown was at 109 seconds. Though he has used it to try to escape the countdown was almost up. Leon waited the last few seconds then activated the ability, feeling strength surge into his body. Leon splayed his large hands wide, admiring his now considerable wing span, then brought his palms them together with a colossal force that would have likely broken both his hands if not for his armored skin. 

A loud boom shook the room and a pressurized gust of air ripped from his hands. The force wasn’t enough to do more than startle any of the men fighting each other on the ground but it was enough to temporarily clear away the lingering vape cloud in the room. 

Leon instantly spied the Pledge Master and Edward struggling near the stairs, the Pledge Master sat on top of Edward using some ability that made his hands glow brown and seemed to have paralyzed Edward. Leon wasn’t capable of feeling fear anymore but he felt something distinctly like it as he saw his friend helpless on the ground, that and a bubbling red rage he had never felt. As the room once again filled with smoke from the Vape Mage’s mouth Leon rushed towards the pair. He ripped the scrawny Pledge Master off of Edward’s body as easily as he would lift an insect and flung him down the stairs. The man tumbled down, sprawling at the bottom in a heap, out of the fight but still breathing. Leon watched the first level tick away and knew he would soon become a harmless wretch. 

From the ground, Edward looked at him with a mix of awe, fear, and relief. Slowly he regained control of his limbs and then sat up and wrapped his arms around Leon, squeezing tightly onto Leon’s muscular back. Leon laughed feeling an overwhelming flood of relief. He hugged his friend back tight, not caring that the skin-to-skin contact made his naked dick instantly hard. 

Leon continued the embrace until he felt something bounce off his butt. He turned around to see the Beer Pong Master, who he had thought was out of the fight, lift his hand and shoot a ping pong ball out of it with considerable force. More and more shot out in a jet towards the two friends. Leon positioned himself to block Edward from the barrage. The plastic balls stung but his Armored Skin prevented them from doing any real damage. Leon rushed forward and delivered a hard punch to the gut that finally defeated the man who began to turn into a wretch as well. The counter was now at 21/26. Whatever Edward had done outside and to control those guys had taken out a majority of the lesser frat guys. Leon was so relieved that he didn't even care he was losing the bet. He would be glad to give him friend a blowjob if they lived long enough for that.

The pink fog slowly began to clear and he and Edward were left facing down the remaining five frat guys. Edward’s method of control seemed to have warned off and the two remaining, a level seven Party Animal and a level nine Bully looked pissed. Leon readied himself for a fight. He didn't relish the idea of being mauled even with his armored skin but he would do it to protect Edward.

He was spared the trouble. A beam of purple energy shot from Edward’s hand and into the Party Animal. The frat guy's eyes glowed the same purple shade for a second, then he adopted a look of pure horror and ran right past him and Edward down the stairs, a visible wet spot in his pants. Edward had told him about his new emotion bomb ability but he hadn’t known it would be so potent.

Not wasting the opportunity Leon raced forward and quickly subdued the Vape Mage with a punch, then the Drug Pusher with a knee to the chest, then did a quick uppercut which finished off the Bully who went down to the ground groaning as he slowly became a level one wretch.

That left Edward and Leon facing only the Prankster. The sinister-looking man tried the same hand buzzer trick on Leon again but this time he was ready. He grabbed the man's hand and slapped it onto the guy's own chest causing him to electrocute himself instead. 

Finally, alone Leon and Edward stood in trashed hallways breathing heavily. Edward had a small cut on his arm and a blossoming bruise on his perfect symmetrical cheek which gave his handsomeness a rugged quality, a quality broken by his wide innocent grin. “So you want to suck my dick now or later?”

The quest marked itself up to 26/26 and he and Edward both heard a ding as they leveled up. 

“You have reached level twelve. You receive attribute points based on your class: +3 Strength, +1 Charisma, + 0.3 Intelligence.” 

“You have gained a class perk.”

“Punchable Face: If moved to sufficient hostility, creatures are more likely to attack you than your allies. Note: This effect scales off both Strength and Charisma. Note: Creatures with higher intelligence will be more resistant to the effects of this perk.”

Leon felt the now familiar feeling of leveling up as each of his attributes increased. The intelligence gains Leon got at each level were too small to be perceptible, though he supposed he noticed a small difference now that he had an 11.3 compared to his previous base of 8. His charisma boosts per level were larger, though also hard to exactly quantify. When Leon had looked hard in the mirror he had been able to pick out ways his face was a bit more handsome than it had been, thought it was hard though to know what was due to his charisma boosts and what was from the changes to his body composition. Still, his eyes were brighter, his features more symmetrical, and his skin clearer than it had ever been before. Despite gaining twelve points Leon didn't feel like he had gained Edward’s easy effortless charm, though his jokes that always sounded so funny in his head but never when he said them out loud did seem to be landing more frequently and he was starting to pick up on social cues that would have once flown over his head. This level up Leon actually did think he could feel something shifting in his face though he chalked it up to placebo. 

His strength though Leon was sure he could feel. His body stretched another quarter of an inch taller, and he gained another five pounds of muscle, all packed evenly onto his body. Though he didn't store fat according to his Metabolizer perk his muscles didn't have the dehydrated malnourished look of extremely low body fat. Instead, they all looked full and strong, tight on his dark skin. His biceps were like softballs, his legs were becoming thick as tree trunks, and his abs seemed to only get tighter, six-pack verging on an eight-pack. 

Besides him, he saw Edward experience a level-up. It was the first time he had actually witnessed it, last time he had been too busy fucking his friend's ass to see. Now he watched as Edward's already perfect features became somehow more perfect. Leon had thought his skin was flawless before but it now took on a somehow otherworldly shine. His teeth became blindingly white and even straighter, making the grin he shot Leon somehow more adorable and endlessly distracting. His jaw looked like it could open a beer bottle and his hair was so gold it could be spun from hay. Watching his friend change mixed with the proximity to Edward’s pheromones made Leon hard, his massive penis springing forth with the velocity of a jouster.

Leon opened his mouth and then closed it. Edward's beauty had always been distracting before but now he was stunned stupid by his charisma. The act of talking seemed too complex when he looked at Edward so he just sort of moaned and drooled a little. 

Edward had that far-off look that meant he was reading his notifications. He looked up and laughed at Leon’s cross-eyed expression. “Oh god. That’s my new perk.”

“New perk?” Leon asked. His face was all but paralyzed which made his words come out slurred and almost unintelligible. This only made Edward laugh harder. 

“It's called Dazzling Presence. Apparently, it gets less effective the more time you're around me.” Leon felt himself slowly come back to earth, though not fully. He found it intensely difficult to look away from Edward or think in more than caveman “me horny” thoughts.

“I think it's supposed to temporarily stun people when I first interact with them to give me the upper hand. It should wear off soon. Edward squinted his eyes as if he suddenly noticed something, he took a step forward so their faces were only inches apart, a move that was not helpful in Leon’s attempts to break free from his horny hypnotic state. “Oh my god your face!” Edward started laughing again, harder than before.

“What's wrong with my face?” Leon asked concerned. “I got a perk called punchable face.”

“Punchable face?” Edward asked still laughing. “More like a kissable face,” he leaned in and pecked Leon on the lips, the touch making Leon somehow harder. “Go look at yourself in a mirror.”

Leon had enough control now to hobble to one of the communal bathrooms, he stepped over a groaning unconscious level-one wretch, maybe a man who had been the Vape Mage or the Drug Pusher, it was hard to tell them apart now. In the glow of the automatic lights, Leon saw what Edward had meant. He groaned to himself. He had a serious case of Jock Face. He looked like a cartoon high school bully, with thick eyebrows, a broad forehead, head the shape of a square. The mustache he now had was not helping. Small dark beard hairs had already started to grow on his cheeks making him look like a dad coaching little league baseball who took the game too seriously. Leon felt the urge to punch his own reflection.

“It's not that bad” Edward called from the hall, knowing what his friend's reaction would be.

“I look like a Neanderthal!” Leon shouted back. His body was one thing but he had never expected this class to affect his face so much. 

“No, you don’t!” Edward said encouragingly coming into the bathroom to stand beside his friend. “I think it’s fitting. You look like a sexy Viking.”

Leon turned to look at Edward. His presence was still extremely distracting but Leon could now at least have a conversation with his friend. “It's worth it I guess. The perk says people are more likely to attack me now than you.”

Edward rolled his eyes. “Alright, knight in shining armor. If I remember correctly you were the damsel in distress.” 

“Yeah,” Leon said awkwardly color flushing his cheeks, the blush looking strange on his now hyper masculine face. “I’m sorry about that, I got overconfident.”

“No I’m sorry,” Edward said grabbing Leon’s hand in his own. “I sent you in there alone. That was stupid of me, from now on we stick together.”

Leon nodded wordlessly, unable to get anything past the lump in his throat. He didn’t know exactly what he was feeling, not fear, he wasn’t capable of feeling fear but he still felt anxiety and guilt and a deep love for his friend. Suddenly he felt it all crash down on him. Everything that had happened in the past ten hours. Even with his Animal endurance perk Leon was exhausted. He realized he hadn’t eaten since that one protein shake so many hours ago. He couldn’t imagine how Edward felt.

Leon glanced at the countdown timer and felt his heart skip a beat as he saw they only had eight minutes left. There would be time to talk to Edward about what he was feeling and where their friendship stood after they completed the quest. 

The main hallway on the second floor led to a set of large wooden double doors. Leon was ready to kick them down but they were unlocked. He poked his head in and wasn’t quite sure what he was seeing. There was a large room, obviously meant for holding mixers and formals. A long bar sat on one end of the room, a dance floor near it. Leon’s attention however was more focused on the contraption directly in front of him. 

It looked like a doomsday device out of a science fiction B movie. A mishmash of repurposed tech and scrap metal welded into a crude but ominous tower of technology. Strips of LED screens, ripped from discarded tablets and smartphones, lined the upper frame, flickering in erratic patterns, casting eerie reflections off the exposed metal. At its core was the familiar “Altered State” video game cartridge, nestled in a nest of wires and circuits that branched out to hacked Wi-Fi routers and a jury-rigged motherboard, all held together by zip ties, duct tape and sheer ingenuity. A large fully extended TV antenna was on the top of the contraption which buzzed and pulsed every few seconds with electricity. Leon hadn’t a single clue that the machine did but it looked intensely complex and dangerous. He had played enough video games to know that to complete the quest he and Edward probably had to destroy the thing. 

There was something else in the room that caught Leon’s eye. A figure paced back and forth in front of the machine, snorting and grunting occasionally as he moved. Leon had seen a lot that had challenged his understanding of reality today but the name tag above the creature's head sent him reeling. Hunter, level seventeen Roided Out Berserker. The Frat president was unrecognizable. He had always been a large man but Hunter now was a giant, eight feet tall, muscles like swollen overly ripe fruit, huge and crawling with protruding veins that looked like worms, glowing a sickly green. He was naked with an inhumanly large penis and a matching set of balls hanging in-between thickly muscled massive hairy legs. His arms were like veiny boulders, his neck a thick stump, and he had a massive roid gut ballooning out his belly.

His face, never particularly handsome was now a twisted mask of permanent anger, more animal than man, and the spark of cruel intelligence that once lived behind his eyes was gone replaced by a feral mindlessness. 

Quietly as he could Leon closed the door and pulled Edward away from it. He relayed what he had seen much to Edward's disbelief. 

Edward’s disbelief grew as Leon told him his hastily constructed plan. “Didn’t I just say we were going to stick together? You're going to get yourself killed if you go in there alone,” Edward insisted trying to talk him out of it. 

“It’s the only way. Besides you can always step in and save me like before,” Leon joked trying to ease his friend's tension. He wasn’t sure if his confidence was warranted or if it was reckless arrogance from his No Fear perk but he just knew he couldn’t bear to see his friend in danger again. Before Edward could further talk him out of it he walked over to a window and ripped down the ratty red curtain, then he marched back over to the set of doors and got ready to open them. “Be safe” Edward said looking at him with those deep soulful eyes.

“I will,” Leon said back tenderly. He wanted to say more, to sweep Edward off his feet and kiss him but the timer was at six minuets. There would be time after if he survived. Besides if they did this right his quest reward might just help Leon show Edward exactly how much he meant to him.

Leon burst through the double doors, red fabric trailing behind him like a cape. “Hey Hunter you ugly motherfucker. They say imitation is the more sincere form of flattery, but I think for you it might just be fattery.” The joke didn't actually make any sense but Leon stopped for a second to admire his on-the-spot wordplay. Maybe his higher charisma was having more of an effect than he had thought. 

Hunter growled and snorted like a bull, staring at Leon with undigested loathing as Leon entered the room. “Me fucking kill you.” He said in deep halting English, like he was Frankenstein’s monster. He and Leon started circling each other like two cats in an ally waiting to pounce. Leon’s new Punchable face perk ensured that Hunter kept his attention on him and not Edward not so subtly head peaking through the doorway. Leon hoped if Hunter did decide to go for Edward he would be stunned by the Snake Charmer's new perk but even so, he was determined to keep the Berserkers attention on himself. Leon waited until he had circled the whole room and his back was to the machine before he shouted.

“Now!” Due to the fast regeneration from his high charisma Edward had regenerated just enough energy points to perform one last Emotion Bomb. A beam of red energy leaped out from his hand, striking Hunter from behind and causing his eyes to glow red for a split second.

Any human part of Hunter left died at the moment as he was overcome by an overwhelming wave of anger and became fully animal in his desire to kill Leon. That was the result Leon was hoping for. He knew he wasn’t stronger then Hunter but he could hopefully be smarter, if he survived long enough. Hunter charged forward hands extended to tear Leon apart. Leon flourished the red fabric in front of him like a matador before jumping away at the last second to avoid the man’s charge.

As Leon had hoped Hunter charged straight into the device Leon had been standing behind. The whole contraption shook with the force, small electrical bits falling off the side. A few of the more ominous-looking red wires connecting to the game disk in the center disconnected but the contraption maintained its structural integrity. Hunter recovered and had somehow grown angrier. Leon flourished the red cape and began to circle again trying to lead Hunter into another charge at the machine. He shouldn’t have known it wouldn’t be so simple.

Hunter activated an ability. It was one similar to Leon’s own Size Up ability except rather than growing in overall proportional size the ability only affected Hunter’s muscles. The veins prominent on his body grew a brighter shade of green for a moment then each one of Hunter’s muscles ballooned to inhuman size, making the man even more grotesque. His dick grew to at least three feet in length and likely would have brushed the floor if it didn't become erect. 

Leon hoped the sudden growth might have decrease the big man's speed but it seemed the opposite was true. Hunter charged at him like a bullet and Leon just barely jumped aside at the last second.

As Leon’s plan crumbled to dust he realized once again Edward had been right. His plan, lure Hunter into charging at the device, toppling the contraption and trapping his foe all in one ironic blow, was a stupid one. The device at the center of the room was large but not nearly large enough to keep the now colossal Hunter pinned. Leon suddenly felt like David facing Goliath without a sling. Still, he had to look as if he was in control lest Edward rush in and do something stupid. Leon at least had a chance against the massive Hunter, but Edward would be trampled in seconds with his unenhanced strength. 

Leon shot Edward’s worried face peeking through the door a cocky wink and gave his makeshift red muleta a showman-like shake. He thought briefly about activating his own size-enhancing ability and decided agains it, he couldn’t overpower Hunter, not when the man had five levels on him. Sizing up would only make him a easier target and the last thing he needed was to get pinned down.

Hunter charged again. This time Leon moved too late, though he dodged Hunter’s attempt to grapple him he was clipped by Hunter's shoulder as he spun away. The slight contact was enough to send Leon skidding across the smooth wooden floors like a rag doll. 

He had no time to recover from the crushing blow. From the floor, he heard the sound of rushing feet. On instinct, Leon activated his Inner Strength ability and launched himself into the air just in time to soar over a rapid charge from Hunter. With momentum and reflexes of the ability, he flipped once in the air before landing on his feet, crouched low next to a windowed wall ready for Hunter’s next attack. The loss of his only safety net for the next 108 seconds would have made him fearful if he could still be. Instead, it made him focused, and ready. In the tumble, he had lost a scrap of red fabric, and seriously injured his left shoulder even through his armored skin. He tried to move his arm and felt a shooting pain, dislocated or broken he couldn’t tell which. He would have to hope his animal endurance would heal it soon. 

Hunter’s charge that Leon had dodged taken him right into the far wall and he had gone through it, revealing a messy bedroom on the other side. Leon guessed that once he started charging it was hard for him to stop. Maybe his original plan had some merit after all. 

Hunter turned back around eyes insane with rage, spit flying from his mouth as he screamed and grunted unintelligibly. For a moment Leon felt bad for what this game had done for him but then he remembered how Hunter had been in life and felt the pity leave him. “Hey, Cassie just called and she said she didn't want to date an Incredible Hulk knockoffs.” Leon wasn’t sure if it was just the loud noise attracting Hunter attention or if the beast could accurately process the jab thrown his relationship. Either way he charged big bare feet tearing up the floor as he rushed at Leon with inhuman speed.

Leon took a deep breath, crossed his fingers, and gave one final wink to Edward, hoping his friend would remember him fondly if this didn't work out, then he ducked and rolled.

Hunter sprung like a cobra. If Leon had still been there the hit would have broken every bone in his body. Leon however was not there, and instead, Hunter charged right into the wall. It was a testament to his strength that he took nearly the whole side of the second floor with him, glass, drywall, bricks, and electrical wires all fell down in a shower of debris as Hunter fell to the dark ground below. Leon had to throw himself forward so as not to go down with the collapsing floor under his feet. He heard a crash then a slash then silence. 

Edward rushed forward and the two of them peered through the giant hole in the house to the yard below. Hunter lay with his swollen belly up floating in the frat's outdoor hot tub, his body having crashed through the tiled roof of the hot tub like paper. Leon watched as Hunter shrunk, first as his ability ran out then as the levels fell away. Hunter began to look like himself again before shrinking further into a scrawny ugly thing labeled as a level one wretch. The quest “Defeat Legion boss” updated itself to 1/2, though the “Stop the Legion’s plans” still remained at 0/1 which was concerning.

“That was amazing,” Edward said voice tender. He looked down at Leon’s shoulder and sucked in a breath. “Does it hurt?”

Leon looked down and winced at the way his muscular shoulder was twisted at an unnatural angle. “Yeah” he answered truthfully laughing weakly. Leon took a deep breath and prepared to pop his shoulder back into place. He didn’t feel fear but he still felt pain.

Edward stopped “may I?” He asked reaching out his hands. Leon nodded and Edward placed his hand on the hard dark metallic surface of his skin. Instantly the pain was replaced with an orgasmic pleasure that felt warm and intensely comforting. Gently at first then harder when Leon didn't flinch Edward wrenched Leon’s shoulder back into its socket. 

Leon smiled up at him. “Thanks,” he said simply, he was too tired to think of a joke or anything more to say. 

“I should be thanking you,” Edward said cheeks flushing. The two of them weren’t normally like this. They normally teased each other like brothers and let the mutual love they had for each other go unspoken. Now all the changes had them flitting about like scared middle schoolers. Leon wanted to wrap Edward up in a big hug and tell him it was alright but it was clear his friend had more to say. 

“Look I know this might not be the time, but I have something to tell you,” Edward said. Leon still found it hard to do anything but think about fucking when he was around Edward but he sensed his friend was serious and tried to pay attention. “I know everything is happening so fast, and our relationship just became physical which I feel bad about. I really didn’t know it was you I promise, but well I like you Leon, I have always liked you and not just in a friend way or a sexual way but also like you in a -“

Leon blinked and suddenly his friend was gone. He heard a faint scream getting more distant. His brain took an embarrassingly long time to process what had just happened. Edward had been right in front of him saying, well Leon couldn’t bring himself to think about what Edward was going to say, when he was ripped through the hole in the wall. Something metal had grabbed him around the waist and hoisted him into the air like a fish on a line.

Leon rushed to the opening and couldn’t quite believe what he saw. On the street a giant thing had Edward in its hand, no claw. It was a machine Leon realized. It looked like it was made from a refrigerator, parts of a playground and a car, all deconstructed and reconstructed into a giant vaguely humanoid mech. Leon felt his blood boil as he saw a red bumper with a familiar license plate. Mother fucker had made his car into a mech. 

Leon’s rage continued to build as he saw Edward struggling to get free. His friend was saying something to the person inside but he was too far for him to hear. Leon looked back at the machine still humming behind him. He grabbed a loose brick from the rubble of the caved-in wall then hurled it at the center motherboard as hard as he could, hoping that would put a stop to whatever the contraptions purpose was. Then he activated his Size Up ability, growing 70% his original size, spine expanding, pecs ballooning, legs growing longer and thicker, penis growing to well over a foot long. His strength doubled and Leon for the first time felt the intoxicating rush of true power. He knew he now had to be one of the strongest man on the entire planet. Leon needed more. He activated his inner strength ability, taking his already monstrous strength to godly levels if but for a moment. Leon bent his legs and then jumped into the cold dark night cracking the floor underneath his feet. He sailed in a long ark landing just behind the mech with a powerful earth shaking impact.

The street outside was cold but his blood boiled hot. Leon couldn’t make out the face of the mech’s driver but he could see the name tag floating above its head, "Alvis, Level 22 Technocrat.” Leon smiled humorlessly and balled up his hands into fists now the size of thanksgiving turkeys. He was going to get back his roommate, his best friend, even if he had to rip apart his other roommate and every machine in the whole city to do so.

[local-hyena]

Allright allright, I think I'm ready now...

TF2 COMIC 7

Saying "I loved it" would be an understatement. It was PERFECT, the perfect ending we deserved. It's been seven goddamn years, I honestly didn't think this issue would ever be released. I started getting into tf2 only recently, about a year ago I think. I hope everyone who've been there from the beginning are happy.

This last issue gave us SO MANY THINGS ! A TIME SKIP WITH THE MERC'S FUTURE ! I CAN'T BELIEVE THEY ALL GOT THE "THEY GOT HOME AND BUILT FAMILIES AND REUNITE FOR CHRISTMAS" TYPE OF FUTURE THAT LITERALLY ALL FANFICS ARE ABOUT. SINGLE DAD SCOUT IS THE GREATEST CHARACTER DEVELOPPEMENT POSSIBLE.

WE ALSO GOT LITERALLY EVERYTHING WE WERE HOPING FOR. WE GOT UNMASKED SPY, WE GOT PAULING'S FIRST NAME, WE GOT SCOUT'S LAST NAME, SCOUT WITH AN UGLY HAIRCUT, WE EVEN GOT PYRO'S DOG AND MEDIC'S BABOON, TOM JONES IS BACK. ALSO HEAVY HAS A BEARD NOW, AND SOLDIER AND ZHANNA HAVE CHILDREN !!

there are of course still unanswered things. However, the fact that the Administrator forgot why she wanted revenge on Mann really adds to her character and the overall story. Also, it seems that Scout still odesn't know that Spy is his father, since he introduces himelf to Scout's children as Scout's coworker... Scout's ma is also noticably absent, I do not want to think about it too much, since Demo's mother is still alive, there is no reason she wouldn't be as well. We're gonna say that she's spending Christmas with another son, since she doesn't really take an important rôle in the comic... Also, as a Medic main, THERE WAS NO MEDIC CONTENT. LIKE, I KNOW THAT THE LAST COMIC WAS VERY MEDIC AND HEAVY FOCUSED, BUT STILL. I always need more Medic content 😭😭 glad to see that Archimedes is here also !

Also, Merasmus why are you so ripped 😂😂 he looks ugly as ever.

I am so very happy that Hale and Olivia both got fired from MannCo. They are finally happy now, with Hale going back with Mags fighting animals and going on other dangerous adventures.

There is ONE lats thing I need to point out. No, two things. First, I wonder what Valve will do now. Now that Team Fortress 2's story has come to an end. What will happen ? Is the game going to stop updating ? Or on the contrary will they go back to working on it ? Is there going to be a Team Fortress 3 ? Or is Team Fortress simply going to end on this perfect note ?

Finally, the ending. It took me a while to understand that the last dinner scene was adressing directly to us, the reader, the player. When I understood that, it hit le right in the heart. I cannot say that tf2 has been à huge part of my life. Like I said, I only got interested last year or so. I don't even oike the game itself that much, online multiplayer competitive FPSs are not my preferred genre. But the story, the characters and what the community makes (yes, the funny GMod machinimas and SFM movies. The memes and the serious stuff, both of them) made me learn to enjoy this universe. I must confess something. For some time, I played Fortnight with my brother. He made me try because I kept saying that I didn't like it, but I hadnd't poayed the game. After my first game, I said that I had some fun, in the end. So, he kinda forced le to play. For... idk, a few years. I do nlt remember the dates but I started the season with the Nomad skin as the ultimate reward, and stopped when there were hoverboards, or whatever they were. I didn't enjoy it because he insisted on being super competitive and was raging 90% of the time. So yeah, I hated every second of it and I vowed to not play competitive online multiplier games anymore. Which is why I absolutly refuse to play Overwatch and League of Legends. I wouldn't say that Team Fortress 2 reconciled me woth these type of games, but after watching all the Meet the Mercs and learning more about the story, I tried playing. I was a bit intimidated as to which class to choose, but after trying out several (and being very influenced by Meet the Medic), I found out that I had the most fun while playing Medic. I do nlt have a very good aim and I tend to die immediatly when I try to shoot at people. I also discovered that, playing an online multiplayer game doesn't have to be competitive. I have 9h30 in tf2, I play very casually. I do not get mad when I die or my team loses, because in the end, I just want to have fun in my own way. So, this ending hit me right in the heart

I... I almost want to print that last panel and hang it on my wall... I know, there's nothing stopping me, but I don't want my family to question it.

Anyways. That was tf2 comic issue 7. I cannot wait to see what the future will bring for our mercs !

[saintsenara]

what are your thoughts on the mini prefect plot in OOTP regarding ron and his relationships with harry + the weasleys? was he really suited for the role?

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

neither harry nor ron should have been prefects - justice for dean, i say - but the revelation that ron has been made one serves a very important narrative purpose and i can't think of anything which could have replaced it...

order of the phoenix is the book in the series which is most explicitly a coming of age story - and it's not only a coming of age story in that it's the book where harry has typical teenage experiences like sitting exams and pulling for the first time and realising that he wants to be a different man from his father, but also in that it's the book where harry transitions from being a member of a trio who get up to shenanigans as a team to being the chosen one, who is superior to his disciples, ron and hermione.

this is an important aspect of why harry spends the beginning of the book fuming that ron and hermione aren't telling him anything about their work with the order - he's not just pressed that he's not being given information, he's pissed off because he thinks that ron and hermione aren't behaving correctly, since they should recognise his authority over them by virtue of his centrality to the fight against voldemort.

hence harry's thought process after he learns ron has been made a prefect:

He was no better than Ron in lessons. But what about outside lessons? What about those adventures he, Ron, and Hermione had had together since they had started at Hogwarts, often risking much worse than expulsion? Well, Ron and Hermione were with me most of the time, said the voice in Harry's head. Not all the time, though, Harry argued with himself. They didn't fight Quirrell with me. They didn't take on Riddle and the basilisk. They didn't get rid of all those dementors the night Sirius escaped. They weren't in that graveyard with me, the night Voldemort returned... And the same feeling of ill usage that had overwhelmed him on the night he had arrived rose again. I've definitely done more, Harry thought indignantly. I've done more than either of them, But maybe, said the small voice fairly, maybe Dumbledore doesn't choose prefects because they've got themselves into a load of dangerous situations... Maybe he chooses them for other reasons... Ron must have something you don't...

but crucially, harry's conclusion - which dumbledore affirms at the end of the book, when he says that the only reason he didn't make harry a prefect was because it would be too much additional stress - is that ron doesn't have something over him.

after his initial flash of malice, harry comes to understand why being a prefect [with all the status it confers] would matter to ron - and this is an example of self-growth, since, in goblet of fire, he's incredibly dismissive of ron's jealousy over him being selected as triwizard champion - but, in doing so, the lesson he learns is that being a prefect is important to ron because ron isn't as special as he is, whereas it's not important to him because the authority he has as the singular focus of the anti-voldemort cause - which is shown in order of the phoenix through his leadership of dumbledore's army - is what actually counts.

[captain-huggy-bear]

To Fight a Ten Year Old

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: N/A

Summary: In which Quinn is prepared to time travel to whoop some ten year old butt because you tell him a story from your childhood and he takes it personally.

Notes: Alas, I did in fact experience this as a child, but I can laugh about it now :) Also writing soccer instead of football actually hurt me.

Very silly + short idea to be honest but hope it brings a smile to some faces!

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

It's a stupid little back and forth the two of you have going as you get ready for bed, silly little questions like 'tell me about your first broken bone' and 'why is your favourite animal your favourite?'. It's something Quinn and you have been doing since you first started dating. It started as a way to get to know each other better and ended up a habit, a ritual of sorts.

Each year the questions get harder to think of as your lives become more intertwined, most of your stories featuring the other, but it still raises interesting moments from your childhoods and silly little stories that explain a lot about you or him. Things you probably wouldn't find out about each other unless you asked these random questions or a family member brought it up at Thanksgiving or Christmas.

Today is no different. You're going through your night routine, taking off your make up and moisturising your skin, while Quinn brushes his teeth in the adjoining bathroom, door open so you can talk.

"Okay..." He's thinking hard, even as he talks around his toothbrush leaning his head out of the bathroom to watch you as you wipe away your eyeliner, "How about first heartbreak?" His voice is muffled around the toothbrush and almost sounds like he's underwater, despite this he never seems to want to wait until he's done.

"Like first heartbreak? Or first proper heartbreak?" You're running a cloth over the rest of your face as you ask, wiping away concealer and blush, an array of colours smearing the fabric. Your skin being revealed bit by bit.

"What's the difference?" He briefly disappears back into the bathroom to spit out his toothpaste and put his toothbrush away, but you know he's still listening as you explain.

"Well, first heartbreak is that time as a little kid that you thought you were in love and got hurt by it but it wasn't serious. You were probably over it by the next week, and first proper heartbreak is when you're older and it actually is heartbreak and you can't get over it for at least 3 months."

He hums as he comes back to lean against the doorframe, shoulders looking delicious without a shirt on, "First heartbreak, probably less depressing for a Monday night."

You take a moment, reaching for your moisturiser as you think back. There are many moments you could think of where you thought you were in love as a litte kid and had your heart broken as a result, but one stands out the most.

"Okay, um...When I was 10 years old I really liked like this boy in class called Cameron but Cameron really liked Emily, a girl 2 years older than us." You can still remember it now, the way he used to sit with her whenever he had the chance, how she clearly did not want a kid 2 years younger than her hanging around, how lovesick he was...how lovesick you were.

"Okay, so Cameron likes a cougar?" You glare over at him as you rub moisturiser into your skin, disapproving as he grins at you, straight teeth peeking out from behind his lips.

"2 years apart at the age of 10 and 12 does not make someone a cougar, Quinn!"

"I don't know, baby, seems pretty cougar-ish to me." You roll your eyes at him as he strolls closer to you, taking your comb in hand and tilting your head forward gently. He's careful as he starts to detangle your hair, careful not to pull too harshly on your scalp, much kinder than your mother used to be when you were a child. Quinn's always careful not to hurt you, apologetic if a tangle pulls too roughly.

"You're ridiculous. Anyway, where was I?" You reach for the detangler handing it back to him as he works, closing your eyes gently.

"You liked a spotty kid called Cameron." There's a hint of dislike riding his voice, even as his fingers are careful as they pull strands of your hair apart, teasing out knots.

Your eyes flash open and meet his in the vanity mirror, lips pursed at the way he insults a ten year old he's never met, "I liked a tall, cute kid called Cameron who was into soccer."

"Yeah, like I said, spotty." The dislike turns to a jealous sort of mumble, matched only by the sour look on his face that has you huffing out a laugh.

"Are you jealous of a ten year old?"

"He's not ten anymore..."

"Do I need to remind you this is a story of heartbreak?"

"Still, should've been me." His hands slide from your hair, comb having been put back on the side, and down to the base of your neck. Long fingers working at the tension there, you lean back into his fingers even as you call him out for his ridiculousness.

"We didn't even know each other! You're absurd, anyway, so I was certain Cameron was my future husband and I decided to be very brave one Valentine's day and get him a card and a gift." You lean a little to the right as Quinn hits a knot on the left side of your shoulder, you sway back into him.

"I'm proud of little you, that's gutsy." He can almost imagine it, little you bravely handing over a glittery red and pink monstrosity, little bows in your hair and chubby cheeks.

"I know, braver than I am now." You're not sure you'd have been brave enough to do something like that now, it had been Quinn after all who'd made the first move, Quinn who'd set the pace of your relationship at the start, "So I get him some chocolates, those stupid cheap heart shaped ones, and I make a stupid card covered in glitter and all sorts. I take my time and I write a heartfelt confession inside and then decided to give it to him in front of the entire class."

"No..." His voice drops, horror filling it as he looks at you through the mirror, mouth slightly open, eyes wide. You nod at him, confirming his worst fears, he knows how this is about to go down.

"Yeah, rookie move. I do it though, I hand it over and then he proceeds to not even read the card and um, rip it up in front of me and the entire class while telling me that he was going to marry Emily."

His fingers still in their massage. In fact, Quinn completely stills, his entire body rigid as he frowns at you through the mirror, there's a silence, long and heavy before he speaks.

"Where does Cameron live?"

"Quinn." You turn in your seat to look up at him, lips pursed together.

"I'm serious where does he live I'm going to go have some words with him," He crosses his arms and there's a brief moment where you're distracted by the strength and definition in his forearms before you really process that he's considering having words with a guy who broke your heart when you were ten.

"About his choices when he was ten?"

"Yeah! Who does that to someone, not only did he reject you, which is an insane decision by the way, he embarrasses my baby in front of the entire class!" Quinn reaches for your hands as he rants, pulling you to your feet, as his fingers twist and twine with yours. You'd think he's just joking but his tone is completely serious and it makes your heart warm, no matter how silly he's being. He's genuinely personally offended on your behalf about something that happened when you were a child, before you knew each other. It's sweet. Silly and absurd, but sweet.

"You can't fight a guy who broke my heart at the age of ten."

"Sure, I can or I can get Millsy to do it." He cracks a smile at that, even though he's serious about wanting words with this Cameron, he's also aware he's being absurd. He tugs you closer by the hands even as you glare up at him like a disappointed parent.

"You are not setting Miller on my childhood crush!"

"Why not?"

"Because it's ridiculous! It was over a decade ago!" Even as you protest you're smiling, arms reaching up to rest over his shoulders and around the back of his neck. Fingers twisting the strands of brunet hair that rest there.

"And, he broke your heart and that's not acceptable, baby, i'm sorry, I have to defend your honour." Quinn palms rest on each of your hips, pulling you in as his fingers curl into your pajama bottoms.

"But, it was a good thing."

"How is that a good thing?"

"Because if he hadn't done that, I might have married him and been stuck in a loveless marriage and then never met you or met you but not been able to be with you." You look at him with a little smirk like you've beat him at his own game, like you've outplayed him in a game of chess.

"So you're saying that I actually should be thanking that spotty kid for breaking your heart?"

"Yes."

There's a moment of silence as he draws you ever closer, leaning down to brush his nose against yours, all soft lidded eyes and warmth. Pliant like a docile house cat.

"I'm not thanking him, I will, however, not get Millsy to fight him." It's mumbled so close to your lips that they're brushing his, an almost kiss that speaks volumes about where his mind is now.

"Good, because I'm not breaking you or Miller out of prison."

"You don't love me enough?" He doesn't even have the decency to pretend to be offended or care as his eyes are heavy, focus on your lips, not your eyes and certainly not on the ten year old he was threatening to set Miller on 5 seconds ago.

"Oh, I love you enough, but I do not have that skill set, honey."

"I don't know, think you could probably charm the officers into letting me out, baby." Quinn brushes the tip of his nose purposefully with yours and you know he's seconds from breaking and just kissing you, he has his tells, his little gestures that have consistently given him away.

"You suggesting I seduce the police now?" You pull back just enough to get his attention, to force a pout from him at the distance, his fingers scrambling at your back to pull you back in.

"...Nawwh, only me."

"You're an idiot." He pulls in you in with enough force that your chests bump with a soft smack, rubbing his cheek against yours just because he knows the stratch of his beard will get a giggle from you as you shy away from the sensation.

"I'm your idiot though."

"Mmm, my idiot." You mumble it against his lips as he finally breaks, self control being ditched in favour of the way you sigh against his mouth. He tastes like spearmint toothpaste, minty and sweet as his lips part beneath yours with a hum.

Maybe heartbreak at ten sucked, but you can't help but be thankful for it when you ended up winning the jackpot when you scored Quinn. So much better than spotty ten year old Cameron.

[renatogpadilla]

The One Where She Comes Clean.

It took Lux a full 3 seconds to process what she had just heard.

She had wondered, despite her best intentions what could her friend have possibly seen in that harrowing vision that had made her break the way she had...

Losing a daughter would do it.

Isha... Not-Isha kept going.

"She wasn't mine," She sobbed out between tired tears "but... But she was mine, you know...? She came... into my life at my lowest p-point... And for seven m-months... S-seven beautiful months, she... she made it so... so b-bright! My Isha.... my.... my p-perfect, beautiful baby girl!"

She couldn't hold it in any longer. Lux hugged her friend, both of their eyes filled with tears, as she sobbed into her arms.

They didn't know how long they'd stayed like that. It didn't matter. Eventually, the tears stopped... slowly. Her eyes were burning. Everything hurt.

Jinx managed to talk. "I... Listen, Lux. You saved me too. In more ways than one... And I want to be honest with you. If anyone knows, I want it to be you... but...." How do you even start?

"If you're not there yet, I understand. I won't push. When you're ready, I'll be here." Jinx wondered if Lux was this sincere all the time or if she just put on a pretty face for her... Either way, she couldn't have asked for a better friend right now.

"I think I genuinely don't deserve a friend like you." Jinx meant that. She really didn't deserve her.

"Well, suck it up, Firework." Lux had to push that out of her throat. She just told you about her dead daughter and you're trying out nicknames?! "You're stuck with me. And I don't plan on leaving you alone."

"...Firework?" She could not let Lux know how much she actually liked that. She had an image, dammit!

"Hey, you call me 'Flashlight'!" It wasn't a chuckle so much as a sputtered breath that left her mouth, but the feeling came across.

"Okay, fine. That's fair." Something in her still feared telling Lux everything...

She didn't know where to go from here... Lux was staying the night. Should she offer tea? She didn't have cookies or anything. She should have had cookies! What kind of witch didn't have cookies to lure children into the woods with?! She had to step her game up when she stopped feeling so depressed...

"But... If not your birth name" Which was a shame, because Lux found 'Powder' really cute "and not your other name... What do I call you?"

And here she had to take a gamble... In her mind, she was praying to Janna or whatever other spirit could hear that the name of the most wanted criminal in Piltover-Zaun hadn't reached Demacia... Or at least not Lux.

She wanted to be honest. But she had to brace herself first. "I can be... completely truthful with you, right?"

"Always. I'm almost offended you even had to ask!"

"Heh... I know. Listen, Flashlight. There's a part of me that's terrified to tell you."

"...Why?" Oh, did Lux want an answer to that question?

"Because..." Just say it. She took a deep breath. "Because you've told me your story. And I'm afraid that... I'm scared that if I tell you..." You wouldn't come see me anymore? You would hate me?

"You'd have to take the first step for once?" Lux didn't mean for it to be a jab, but she wanted to get out of the depression, by whatever way she could, and this girl needed to get this out.

"I'm afraid that you'd be too... Familiar with me." She could think of no other word to describe it. She was kinda glad she couldn't. "You... Um..."

"Go on, friend." And she said it so sincerely that Jinx felt her heart grow a size... She swore those eyes got bigger the longer they stared at her. "I'm not leaving."

She dared to hope. "You promise...?"

Lux actually stood up from the couch. Jinx could tell she was sore from the fight still, but she didn't let it show. And then she took a knee and put one hand over hers and another over her heart.

"I," she said, and she put the weight of the world into her words "Luxanna Crownguard, swear on my honor as a Noble, as a servant of the Crown of Demacia, on my Knighthood and on my light as a Mage, that I will not desert you. I will not run from who you are. I will not judge or hate you for what you have been through. On our friendship and on the joy you've brought me... Lest I be struck dead by the gods themselves."

Tiny lights floated around them. Lux wanted to make sure she knew she meant business. What a dramatic little lady she'd let in her hut! Welp, she'd done it now... Fuck it.

"Whatever happens now, you asked for it."

Lux just nodded her head and smiled. One more deep breath.

"You know Piltover?" She started. Might as well match her dramatics if she was going to tell her.

"The City of Progress. I've heard of the place, but I've never been..."

"Well, you'll hear a lot of stories about it. About how they have the most beautiful skyline and how their technology is second to none... It's alright. They're good, I guess. But what they won't tell you is that their glorious city sits on top of another. One that breathes the refuse of their engines. The smog of their factories... The dust beneath their boot. This is the city of Zaun. And I used to call it home."

Lux was sitting fully cross-legged on the floor now, looking up at her like she was her favorite teacher... Or like a child, hearing a new story for the first time. Jinx realized she missed being a storyteller. She liked that the theatrics she could weave into stories didn't require several hours of explosive safety prep... Like she'd ever cared about the safety prep!

"And even in this veritable hive of scum and villainy, where the air was thick with smoke and drug lords named 'Chembarons' ran the streets, there was a still a little corner of light: A section of the city, marshalled by a man named Vander. My dad. This place was called The Lanes, and smack dab in the middle of them, there was a quaint little bar called The Last Drop... And in that bar lived Vander and a gang of kids. There were four of us: There was Mylo, Claggor... my sister Violet... 'Vi'. And me. Powder. And we spent our days gathering scrap for dad to sell and keep the bar afloat... Well, at least that's what we thought. Looking back, he probably just gave us that idea so we'd feel important. Petty heists here and there, nothing too crazy. Mylo could pick any lock, Claggor was big and smart, always a step ahead of everyone else and the one who always knew the getaway route... Vi could punch like hell and I had my little gadgets. None of them worked as intended, but I was getting somewhere." She nodded her head at Pow-Pow and Fishbones on the floor. "That's one thing I can proudly say I got much better at."

"Question!" Said Lux. She actually raised her hand, the darling! "If there were just those four of you, then... Where does Ekko come in?"

Leave it to Miss 'Repressed Fairytale Princess' to immediately ask about her crush. Good to know Lux had her priorities straight!

"He hung around on occasion. He was more Benzo's kid than Vander's. He usually tipped us off to jobs the gang and I could pull. He was small and could get in anywhere if you stopped paying attention to him... He did stay with us for some time, learning how to fight with Vi... Dancing to the jukebox with me..." She had to take a moment. "You know, I don't think I ever noticed how much Ekko made me feel like a kid until you made me bring him up." He really had been there the whole time... Looking back, that crush he'd had on her was so incredibly obvious that she should have noticed, kid or not. That boy was smitten!

"Sounds like you were getting there by yourself already."

"I might've been, Flashlight... Anyhow, it was Ekko that tipped us off to the biggest heist of all. Some big-shot academy nerd over at Piltover had gotten his hands on something incredibly valuable, and now we were going to strike it rich..."

She told her about the heist on Jayce's house in detail, and while she did so, it occurred to Jinx in this moment of retrospection, that she had never actually met Jayce Talis!

The Man of Progress himself! The Father of HexTech! She'd just... stolen his marbles (and his sandwich) and ran! He made Vi those overdesigned bitch-mittens and she'd never even seen the guy outside of a couple posters or ostentatious mugs!

She wondered where he was now and if he had made it out of the scuffle with Noxus alive. After all, if he hadn't dabbled with the Arcane, she wouldn't be who she was...

Lux was completely enamoured by the story. The little band of ruffians braving the top of society to put food on the table... It was inspiring! It made her think of the struggle Mages faced now in Demacia. And Powder (she'd call her that for now, until she got a name.) had been a fighter since the beginning! And now what a woman she'd become! She could make gadgets that could bring down demons from actual Hell and explosions that outshined the moon! As far as she was concerned, she could have been anything but chose to live as a witch of the woods for the vibes!

She admired her more with every bit of her story she learned...

Little by little, Jinx told her overenthusiastic Demacian friend how everything had been downhill from the moment they'd robbed Jayce's place. The Piltie Enforcers that had killed her and Vi's biological parents now flooded the underground, looking to make an example of the undercity for what they had finally perceived to be an excuse...

She slowed down on the details after a while... And eventually, she told her about the night the rest told her to stay behind...

"I should have stayed behind... Looking back I notice that Vi was just trying her best to keep me safe. But then, I just wanted to be useful. So I went anyway... And I took a new toy with me. Filled to the brim with those magic marbles we stole. It was my biggest bomb ever. And it was gonna get them all out."

Lux could tell by her tone that it was not gonna go that way. She got up and sat on the couch with her. She'd put some tea on after she got done with this part. If she wasn't in shambles by then.

"I got there to see my friends, my sister and my dad pinned down through a small window. They'd run rampant and clobbered everyone that got in their way... Now it was my turn to help. Well... I set the little bomb through the window and let it walk off into the fray." Jinx had to stop for a moment. Lux could see in her eyes that what happened next would be heavy... Maybe she should do it now.

"Tea, friend?" She offered.

"Yes. Please. A lot. I... I think I'm going to need it..." Fuck, she missed coffee sometimes.

Lux put the kettle on. If you could call that ramshackle mechanical contraption a 'kettle'.

"If you need to stop, I understand."

"I think if I don't get it out now, I never will." Jinx owed her the truth after tonight. "I... Be patient with me? Please?"

"Of course. You don't have to ask."

Careful, Jinx. She's about to make you believe in kindness again...

While the water boiled, Lux sat down next to her friend. She made some little light balls float around them and dance a little. Nothing too crazy... It was nice that she'd managed to control her powers to the point of making little magic lanterns, but she wanted to try something new now. Something simple, for her.

"You know." Lux started "When I blasted that monster today, I felt something I'd never felt before. Like, I connected to light in a way I'd never understood... Like I could almost talk to it."

"Now who's got voices in her head?" Oh, good. Powder was making jokes now! That was great! A bit of the gloom of the night was starting to dissipate at last...

Lux shot her a playful glare and continued. "Anyways, now that I see it in that light, heh, I was wondering what would happen if I just... Asked nicely."

As she said that, she waved her hand in front of one of the little light motes she'd made... And a few seconds later, it slowly changed. From yellow, to green, to a lighter tone. A red... A purple... Until finally, a light, magical blue floated in front of them. Slowly, all the little lights changed, one by one, lighting up the hut in a blue hue that reminded her of her friend's beautiful fireworks.

She turned to look at the not-a-witch... and she saw tear roll down her face.

"It's beautiful, Flashlight." Jinx had had pretty lights lit for her before (albeit more dangerous and rebellious ones) but this was so... soft. So caring and genuinely precious... This was a gift. "I'm proud of you, for what it's worth. And I'm glad you're here."

"It's worth the world, mon ami." She leaned in close to the little sphere of light. "Thank you!" She whispered. And the little lantern glowed a little brighter. Jinx knew it was just Lux making it 'answer', but she still let herself get lost in the magic for a moment...

She drank her tea slowly... Calm your nerves. Eventually, she put her cup down and resumed her story, the new mood lighting actually calming her down a bit more than she thought. "Well, I was right about one thing: That really was the best bomb I'd ever made. So much so that even I didn't expect it to go off so... effectively. The blast sent me flying onto the street... As well as the entire building."

She'd expected, deep down, that a blue glow would make it harder to tell Lux how the bomb she'd used had killed two of her friends and her father, made her sister hate her for a decade and taken down the entire building with gods-know-how-many people still inside, but if anything, it was comforting to see a blue glow that didn't mean somebody wouldn't see tomorrow for once...

As she continued telling Lux what she'd done, she felt a pain growing on her chest. "This is it!" she thought. "If she can still care for you after she finds out you blew up children then she's sticking around for good."

"There were five of us when that explosion went off... but when the smoke cleared, it was just Vi and me." She lamented. Some days she wondered what Mylo and Claggor would have said about the life she'd led. Would they have come with her? Would they have fought against her? Would they have joined Ekko's Firelights and stayed out of it until it was their problem? Whatever the outcome, a part of her would have still cared. She'd always care. That was her own jinx. "I killed them all, Lux. I killed Mylo and Claggor and dad... And when Violet realized what happened, she... she said something. She called me something that would shape who I'd be forever. A name I took for myself the day... the night 'Powder' died. And she did die in that blast. I just didn't know it until my sister told me to my face."

She was too afraid to look at Lux. She wasn't saying anything, so maybe she was trying to process just who she'd been friends with this whole time... Jinx continued before one of them got cold feet.

"Shortly after, she was sent to jail. Pilties needed someone to blame and I was in the wind. My other dad had found me and taken me in after Vi and I fought. A crime lord named 'Silco'. The man who kept the Chembarons in check. He nurtured my curiosity. Kept me safe from the gangs... From myself. He never blamed me for what I'd done. He'd been Vander's friend before everything. I'd killed his friend, and he didn't blame me! Eventually, I grew up to be his number one closer. His little Boogeyman that exploded his enemies. And he had enemies, Lux! After Vander was gone he practically ran The Lanes, if not all of Zaun! He was a force to be reckoned with... And I was the little monster he had to make sure people stayed in line. I spent years killing my way out of facing my trauma, hearing the voices of my dead friends in my head, building my gadgets, blowing people up without a shred of remorse... Seeing my sister's face in the people I gunned down. I hated her, Lux. For years, I thought she'd left me to rot... I didn't know she'd been taken... I didn't know she still loved me. And, to be honest... Outside of Silco trying his best to be a crime lord and a part-time dad... I..." This was something she had never admitted to anyone. People who knew her could see it, of course, but she'd never said it out loud... "I didn't think I could be loved. I didn't think I deserved to be loved." And some days, when things get really rough, I still don't.

Warmth was the first feeling. Like a loving little oven had started microwaving her from the side. And when she turned, Lux was holding her tight. Her hands were glowing. Her face too! Her whole skin, dimly lit, warming up Jinx's body... She hadn't noticed she was cold. Lux just held her. And something about it melted her heart.

"It wasn't your fault."

Those were the first words that came out of Lux's mouth.

It was words Powder had wanted to hear her entire life.

She held her back. The warmth in her chest felt like a knot that had strangled her soul for ages had finally been undone. She allowed herself to sob as Lux kept talking, and she couldn't see her face, but she knew she was crying too. The lights turned yellow again. Warm and welcoming. Like a hug. Like a home.

"You were a child. You tried to help. You didn't know. It wasn't your fault, Powder. That night, that life, will never be your fault! Okay? And if anyone ever blames you for it, I'll light them up myself!"

And for the first time, she believed it.

Her eyes were dry at this point... She was out of tears. And that was okay. It was her that kissed Lux's cheek this time. She'd never really been known to be tender, but her Flashlight had earned it. She could be soft for one person, she thought. As a treat. For both of us.

They pulled apart.

"Thank you, Flashlight. But... Not 'Powder'." She'd made up her mind now. If anything happened to Lux, she would burn Demacia to the ground. "And... not 'Isha' either."

"Alright then." Lux wiped her eyes and stretched out a hand. She wanted to know everything about this person now. "Hello, miss. I'm Luxanna. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Jinx chuckled. She took her hand in hers. "Believe me, the pleasure is absolutely all mine, Luxanna." And she meant that with her whole heart...

"My name is Jinx."

[dontcallpanic]

I love these points SO, So much! I was sat here going yes, yes, exactly! Yes!

Poor Derek not knowing how to get a house or a safe space - that really got me actually and I was wondering if it was also linked to not wanting to have too many good things. So if he has a house or a space he likes, when he inevitably looses it (in his mind) that feels so much worse than somewhere he doesn't care about so much being destroyed. Imagine getting to the point where he restored the Hale House and then it got torn down again... Ffffddd

Also Fuji your point about him having to take out Peter to protect Scott makes so much sense! But also oh god imagine having to be in that position where you have to kill your last remaining family member (from his perspective) to protect this guy that keeps getting you arrested and blaming you for literally everything! I was also wondering about it becoming one of those goals you get fixated on. Like yeah if I can only just get through X or if I can just get more powerful, if I can get stronger, if I can get better, then I can fix it all, then the problem will go away, then I can protect everyone.

Oh also - did you know there are more F's to the trauma response list - some of which I think also fit Derek. They're Fight, Flight, Freeze, Fuck, Friend and Flop. It's to take into account how we often have to play nice, or fuck or play along with perpetrators just to survive. To account for the fact that behaviour can externally look like one thing but internally the motivations are /extremely/ different. And again we don't get a choice in what our brain will select. It's just whatever it decides is our best chance of survival. And again it's definitely not going to look well adjusted, because it's not exactly a well adjusted situation. It's already deeply fucked up.

Oh and Derek having to show that he's useful just to be allowed to exist always breaks my heart. You put this SO Well. Being useful I would guess feels safe to him. You can also see him doing the needing people/pack but being so terrified of loosing them or hurting them that he pushes them away first pattern that you would totally do if you had been through all that. And then throws his own body and life around like some kind of wrecking ball because neither things are of high value in his mind.

Also your line about pleading with Stiles and Scott to stay alive by saying how useful he is totally broke me. You're spot on with that and it's just tragic.

I'm genuinely staggered by the lack of empathy and understanding but I was also thinking about what Pdxtrent said about him being one of the best representations of trauma in media (and I totally agree) and in a really awful way it kind of makes sense that he wouldn't get a lot of empathy or sympathy because real life survivors get treated this way all the time too. His response feels so True to life, it garners a true to life response from many people. Especially because he doesn't play the victim (and I love that for him) most people/survivors dont - actually! Again, you can't always tell motivations just by watching someone's outward behaviour - although you can obviously get a good idea, but there's also a whole internal world driving that behaviour that you can't see. I feel that this is where Derek is at - and at least past of the reason why he's deeply misunderstood.

There's also something there about the extreme expectations placed on young adults but that might be for another time!

Derek Hale has PTSD. I think people tend to forget that he wasn't an ass for the hell of it. He put up a rough asshole front to protect himself. He has the ugly symptoms of PTSD. Does it excuse some of his actions? No. But he does deserve some understanding and empathy.

No matter what age you see him as, he just isn't a 'grown ass man'. He had no idea how to take care of himself. He was still mentally that 15 year old who lost everything and was traumatized beyond reason.

Derek continuously kept being kicked while he was down. The poor guy couldn't catch a break. Like have a heart y'all. He was never a villain. An antagonist at one point, yes. Villain, no.

Trauma literally rewires your brain, and that poor kid got enough trauma before the first episode. Derek needed lots of therapy, he needed friends, and he needed a pack.

Derek could literally trust no one. Not because he didn't want to, but because he couldn't. He tried his best with what he had, which wasn't much, and he fucked up at times. But he kept trying to do and be better.

[mike-smh]

Chat, I have a lot of opinions on the hermitcraft fandom, specifically a lot of common headcanons or AU’s people have. So if you don’t wanna read them that’s fine this is just me rambling lol.

Grian

Grian is constantly portrayed as an innocent little guy who only ever did the bad things because he was possessed by watchers. I hate this because so many people infantilize him in order to make him look more innocent. He is a fully grown man with a wife. He is probably twice the age of the people who write him in this way.

I have three major issues with this. Firstly, he can’t be possessed by a watcher since within canon the watchers are just the audience. I know that in some people’s AU’s the watchers are godlike entities who can do possessions and control people. But if that’s true then why would they control Grian specifically and make just him innocent and make everyone else the bad guys.

Secondly, it’s unfair to ignore every single action he’s done that has hurt people. It’s unfair to force everyone to forgive him just because he “wasn’t in control”, possessed or not he still hurt people in so many ways. Everyone he hurt has a right to be angry with him even if he was possessed because he still hurt them.

Lastly, Grian absolutely knows what he’s doing, because he pulls pranks on hermitcraft that are a lot like the things he’s done in the life series. And canonically watchers aren’t on hermitcraft because they simply don’t exist there. People make AU’s where they do exist on hermitcraft which is whatever but still. Grian is still in control of himself when he does bad things, he is self aware and has made multiple points of being self aware when he has done harmful things to people.

Scar

I have so many complaints about fanon Scar. A lot of people also infantilize him and never acknowledge the fact he’s in fact manipulative, cunning, deceitful and a villian. People really only portray him as someone who’s in love with Grian and will just be a punching bag for the other life series members as if he doesn’t know how to stand up for himself.

I actually have five main points about Scar because although Fanon Grian is something I'm also passionate about, the fandom just does Scar dirty and completely changes him into someone unrecognizable.

So, firstly, I hate that the fandom makes Scar into a man who doesn’t know how to stand up for himself. They constantly portray him as someone who’s a people pleaser and just does whatever anyone wants. They turn him into a doormat and punching bag when in actuality he is very much the opposite. Scar is manipulative, he never says no to an idea if he doesn’t want to do it. He has many canon kills, there’s times where he’s killed people when he didn’t even need to, he did it just for fun. Or during 3rd life when he made Bdubs and Grian fight for their lives.

Many people make the excuse that he only did that because he was a red life but that doesn’t make sense because he’s done that on hermitcraft too. His persona Hotguy is literally a hero that kills whoever he wants, he just shoots people at any time and kills them. Also during season five, when Convex originated, he constantly killed others for his entertainment. And again, people make the excuse that he was controlled by the Vexes. Okay, that’s a valid argument, except when you remember he was a corrupt mayor in season seven. He was a swindler in season eight where he took everyone’s money so that they actually got a chance to live through the moon crashing and he helped King Ren in season nine.

Another point is that people make him way too forgiving. Especially towards Grian and everything Grian has done to him. When he has literally, on multiple occasions, referenced bitterly to all the things Grian’s done to him. He’s known to hold grudges against people in both hermitcraft and in the life series. It makes absolutely no sense to make him a constantly forgiving person, that is unless he is nothing but a love interest for Grian. So many people infantilize Scar just so that they can justify shipping Scarian, because they know that if they took all the canon information at face value that Scarian would never be a healthy relationship.

Taking that into account leads us to our next topic, people like to completely disregard any personality Scar has in favor of just making him into a shipping vessel for Scarian. Some people make his entire personality into just liking Grian. People like to make him forgive Grian for everything he’s done, even him cheating on Scar during Double Life, just because they like the ship. And honestly, it grosses me out. Seeing people completely disregard how toxic Grian and Scars relationship actually is and change them both into characters completely unrecognizable from canon just so they can have their ship.

I’m sure there’s so much more I can complain about when it comes to Fanon Scar but I’ll make just one last point. His disability. I’ve seen a lot of people make Scars personality revolve around his disability. People essentially making fun of him in a way, making him stutter every sentence, unable to read properly, constantly bringing up how he can’t walk, etc. Now, as a disabled person these inherently aren’t bad things, there’s nothing wrong with bringing these things up and talking about them. It’s just how you talk and bring them up is what’s important, some people talk about it in a way to mock him.

Making him the butt of the joke because he can’t pronounce somethings properly, mocking him because he struggles with reading. Which in my opinion, is disgusting. Yes the cc makes jokes like this with the other hermits, but the other hermits are his friends. You, as a viewer, are not his friend, you don’t know him and you don’t know if he’s hurt by random strangers making fun of him for things he cannot control and making his disabilities his entire personality.

Mumbo

Mumbo. My man, Mumbo K. Jumbo, the Redstone innovator, the man who made a house that can walk. What I’ve noticed about him is that he gets so watered down in Fanon, I swear people just don’t want to give him an ounce of personality. So I will be talking in detail about that.

First of all, people make his entire personality just being a silly guy, they give him no strengths, no weaknesses, they just make him an NPC I swear. They make him act all timid and clueless like he doesn’t know how to do anything at all, they make him helpless. When he literally isn’t, he’s just as villainous as anyone else. He does what he wants to, he kills who he wants to, he threatens people, he literally blew up his entire base just because he wanted to.

Second of all, I swear that it always somehow circles back to Grian, and I despise that. Because for some reason people again, forget everything toxic thing he and Grian have done and just ship them and make Mumbo into nothing but a love interest for Grian. It’s just so disappointing to see people give absolutely none of the other hermits any personality.

Third of all, Mumbo has pulled pranks with the intention of killing people. He constantly kills his friends or messes with them in ways to harm them or greatly annoy them. He constantly stands up for himself in situations and he manipulates people whenever he wants something. He is so much more than being a “spoon”, he is so much more than just being a silly guy who stresses over redstone. He’s not even just a redstoner, he’s a builder too but it seems that people also disregard that part of him as well because it just doesn’t fit into the vision of him being helpless.

So, in conclusion, people like making everything about Grian, people like making everything revolve around Grian. Scars personality? Changed and watered down so that people can have a “healthy” desert duo. Mumbo’s personality? Changed and watered down so Grian can have someone who supports him and constantly forgives him for all of the literal crimes he commits.

So, you might be asking, “Narrator, what’s the point of this? Why did you spend an hour writing about fully grown men who play Minecraft for a living?” Because I’m sick of seeing fully grown men being infantilized for a bunch of teens' enjoyment. Just so they can ship them together and make their favorite character (commonly Grian) be a better person and actually likable.

So what’s the point you ask? The point is that I fucking hate some of the hermitcraft fandom, specifically the people who don’t like people who don’t share the same opinions and or do any of the things I’ve listed. I’m not saying the people who do these things are bad people, just that I personally dislike them. In no way am I hating on the people, just the headcanons.

Okay yeah, I just realized I spent an entire hour of my life writing this and that’s an hour of my life I can never get back…

Also if I offended you, I don’t actually feel bad because I'm allowed to have opinions and so are you. By voicing your opinions you’re opening yourself up to criticism because not everyone agrees. And I know that, that’s why this is all in a first person perspective, these are my opinions and feel free to disagree all you want. I just don’t really care if you disagree lol

Anyway thanks for reading.

[yanderenightmare]

Do you normally get any 'ew, you're disgusting' shit in your inbox? I just now posted my first incest fic and got one like 'i hope you don't have any siblings lalala'. Prior to that, I was like "how do these authors go untouched by antis?" but then I realised that it was a tad bit naive of me lol. I was going to respond with a taunt but decided to just delete it because it wasn't worth the effort.

Are they frequent and are they easy to ignore?

Good question! I was actually going to make a post on this, as others have asked me the same thing, so here we go!

♡ Personal experience!

I get my fair share of hate from time to time—more often when I publish things that are more taboo than other excepted things—for example, like you say, incest, as well as bestiality, wide age gap, born-sexy-yesterday readers, etc.

It's an odd thing, as haters will often accept the fact that I write rape for titillation but will take issue with these other tropes. But anyway, we can talk about the nonsensical opinions of haters all day, but it wouldn't really do us any good.

So, here's my advice.

♡ First off, accept that haters are gonna hate!

Some people won't like what you write. And that's fine. The problem is that they feel the need to tell you that—at which point, you'll just have to console yourself by telling yourself that no decent person would be rude to a total stranger whom they don't know the first thing about and, therefore, whatever they have to say warrants neither second thought nor reply.

With that being said, however...

♡ You gotta do what feels right!

Engage or don't engage, do what you need to feel at peace. Sure, you can be the so-called bigger man and ignore all the meanies, but you absolutely don't have to!

Of course, we can be cool as cucumbers and say, "Not worth the effort," but who are we kidding? This is Tumblr, and you're allowed to rant when you want in whatever manner you want!

So, if you feel you gotta bite back to maintain your sanity, then that's what you should!

However, I do believe there's a way to go about it!

♡ Never go to bed angry!

This is my personal advice, but if you ever choose to acknowledge hate or critique, do so with tact and with based and factual arguments instead of slinging heated insults in return.

This way, you walk away from the fight feeling good about what you've said and not worse off than before. In other words, don't stoop down to their level.

I actually feel in many ways that answering hate can be rather therapeutic this way, as you've succesfully turned something negative into soemthing positive!

♡ The difference between hate and critique!

Actually doesn't matter. You're not really obligated to answer either if you don't want to.

But for the sake of differentiating the two: "Ew, you're disgusting" is hateful slander, but "Incest is wrong, and you're actively condoning it by writing what you write" is a genuine critique.

And it bears repeating, you don't have to address either because you don't owe anyone anything.

People are entiteld to their opnions just as much as you're free to disagree, and ignore if you want!

But something I've found is that explaining it to those who don't understand why we write such things, and furthermore why people want to read it without being interested in such things in real life, is actually quite a rewarding thing to do!

And by that, I mean it might make your critics and haters understand and rethink their comments, but it can also help your existing fans deal with their own similar self-loathing, and lastly, it's even great for your own mental health for when you yourself doubt your own mental standing!

Personally, in regard to the example I used above, when I get hit with the "you're condoning this and that" I just play the argument that those who play violent videogames aren't condoning the killing carried out by their avatar. Naturally, when roleplaying a fictional version of ourselves, we're not actually playing as ourselves.

Some people have a very hard time understanding this for some reason.

But anyway, moving on.

♡ Final advice!

Ignore and delete any and all the dumb, off-handed comments you feel like. If and when you want, return their rudeness with a cheeky smile and a slap on their ass. Be as cordial as you can be but as sassy as you feel you must—like an aged Queen who drinks her fair share of likewise wine.

But whatever you do, don't ever make things personal!

Though that's also my personal advice. I think, by making personal attacks, you're not being factual anymore, and you'll only feel worse for it. And by personal attacks, I mean calling people ignorant, dumb, awful, etc. You can, of course, say that their chosen words were in ill taste, but going after them themselves won't make you feel better. So, I'd suggest avoiding it.

Anyway, hope this helps!

[cheshiresense]

Your latest time-travel verse made me rewatch Kyoraku vs Starrk battle over Fake Katakura.

I have to say, over the years, I have forgotten how sad that battle is. The way Starrk mourns even Barragan's death and loses his (already small to begin with) desire to fight after it... The only reason the guy followed Aizen was because Aizen gave him... friends😭 A pack. The only reason he fought was to protect that pack. Doesn't matter if that pack consisted of some shady individuals. It was his. The first and only one he got in all his 1000+ years of existence. He had no desire to strike down his enemies - didn't kill Ukitake, proposed Love and Rose to retreat with their lives... In a way, he and Ichigo are very much alike in that sense.

Starrk was too honorable and naive and paid for that.

And Shunsui killed Lilynette😭 It is so heartrending when Starrk calls out to her with no answer...

Shunsui's philosophy, on the contrary, allows him "to be evil" in order to win. Yes, he does not like war, just like Starrk, but IMHO, "as soon as the war starts both sides are at fault" does not mean Shunsui is saying that both sides are wrong in the war and to not fight till you completely disable / kill your opponent. I think, to paraphrase, it means: "As soon as the war start, to win, both sides *will* have to be evil / There are no good people in a war because winning a war requires one to do evil things, so someone who were maybe a good person will have to become evil to win". This philosophy, basically, is "to unbound his hands" (as we say in our language, meaning when something is used to make a person free to act), a workaround that allows him to be ruthless to his opponents, despite his pacifistic nature.

Anyway, emotional rant over. I guess I just wanted to share my pain🥲 I just hope Shunsui killing a part of Starrk's soul and the only family he had will somehow be addressed between them in the future in your fic's universe. I think it's just too huge to leave out. And the only way I can see Starrk never saying anything at all to his Shunsui in TYBW timeline - is because he is THAT much of a sucker for pain and/or THAT much desperate for a genuine connection with somebody.

Starrk is just a really tragic character with a really tragic arc, canonically he was never meant to be saved or have a chance at something better.

I don't know if I'd call him particularly honourable, if only because that doesn't seem like the sort of thing he'd really think about and adhere to as a Hollow who'd spent his whole life in a place like Hueco Mundo, not in the same way a Shinigami would. I think it was more that he just didn't want to kill anyone when he'd already killed so many without ever having a choice in the matter, and now that he did, he didn't want to keep doing that if he didn't absolutely have to. He was definitely a bit naive about it because it was war, and he was up against one of the most powerful and ruthless Shinigami in existence. The moment he decided to hold back, he was destined to lose.

For Shunsui, I agree, he believes that to win a war, people have to get their hands dirty, and you can't do that and still remain "good". I also think he thinks that it's disrespectful to not do everything in his power to win, because even if that means throwing away his honour, to do anything less means risking the lives of those he's fighting that war for.

Which ties into why I personally think Starrk doesn't really blame Shunsui for Lilynette's death. I think Starrk is smart enough and similar enough to Shunsui to understand him. And why blame Shunsui when he can blame himself? He's the one who held back from the start, he didn't fight as hard as he could, he even had the chance to kill Shunsui if he'd just gone down to finish the job after shooting him instead of just backing off after disabling him, or he could've even shot him somewhere more leathal like the back of the head instead of the shoulder/chest, because at their level, which Shinigami or Hollow wouldn't survive a simple injury like that? He would've also been able to sense full well that Shunsui's reiatsu signature hadn't disappeared. So that choice is on him, and he paid for it with Lilynette's life.

I also think Starrk didn't have much conviction or resolve, I mean I don't think most of the Espada really believed in Aizen's cause, they just followed him for more power or because Aizen tricked them or forced them, and prob with a side of hypnosis to pave the way. So Starrk didn't even have anything concrete to believe in and fight for aside from a debt he felt he had to repay, and that was quickly wearing away when he saw how Aizen didn't give a shit about them.

So overall, he went into battle against Shunsui without any desire to fight or kill because he thought he didn't really have anything he wanted enough to fight for, right up until he lost Lilynette and realized that yeah he did have something precious to lose after all. In contrast, Shunsui was fighting for Soul Society and to protect his fellow Shinigami, and at the time, he definitely understood that far better than Starrk did.

If Starrk had survived, I think he would've understood that too, plus he just doesn't have the kind of temper that lashes out and casts blame on others due to excess emotion; rather, he has the sort of analytical mind to comprehend the cause and effect of things pretty instantly. That would all play a big part in why he wouldn't blame Shunsui for doing what he had to do to take Starrk out. He and Lilynette were one, Shunsui would've had to kill both of them sooner or later, otherwise he might as well lie down and give up, Starrk wasn't exactly an opponent he could take it easy with.

In the time travel verse here, Idk if I'd make it a particularly huge thing, because for Starrk it's been like 10+ years, I imagine he's laid that ghost to rest a long time ago even if the loss still hurts sometimes, plus it's not TBTP!Shunsui who killed her, and i think he would've hashed out the issue with TYBW!Shunsui already at the beginning. Of course, TBTP!Shunsui is bound to find out about it eventually, which could be interesting to poke at.

But in Take What's Broken (Make It Whole), it'll definitely come up sooner or later. Even if Starrk doesn't bring it up first, Shunsui will, and even if there's no blame, I imagine they would at least have to talk about it going forward.