#also too long to be a drabble

[goddess-of-green]

BotW Link Being a Quiet (and Sleepy) Drunk

(A/N:) Playing TotK and immediately my soul is being recaptured by Linky Winky

(Edit:) This draft is almost a year old! I started it the day TotK came out, lol

Contains: GN!Reader, could be interpreted as either botw or totk link, him being CUTE

Word Count: 474

Link's face pressed into the crook of your neck, having migrated a bit since he'd put his head on your shoulder earlier in the evening.

You smiled and lightly stroked his hair, which earned you a hum--the vibrations of which you could feel in your neck.

It wasn't like Link wasn't affectionate, he was incredibly affectionate when he's certain it's not unwanted. However, even with your constant prompting and encouragement for him to be more open with his displays of affection, he still always kept a respectful distance when you were around others.

You didn't take it personally, you knew it was just the way he was; and a part of you liked that his affection was reserved for just the two of you--that you were the only one who got to see him like that.

Still, that wasn't to say that you didn't like when Link was more open about his love for you, which was something often brought out by inebriation.

He's a quiet drunk, just as he is sober, and one might not think he's affected much at all by the alcohol, but you can tell.

You can see how his eyes linger on you for longer than usual, notice the clinginess that usually comes with him being in that state. And one thing that you loved was how he became more vocal.

Yes, he was a quiet drunk, but less quiet than when he is sober; and you relish in his soft sighs and hums as he nuzzles into your neck, unbothered by the presence of the others.

Zelda smiled at the sight of you two, but the others didn't seem to take notice. Sidon and Yunobo were in deep conversation, while Riju was idly talking about jewelry to Zelda.

Link wrapped an arm around your waist, hand settling on your hip. He seemed intent on keeping his face in your neck, and you recalled him once telling you that you always smelled good.

"Hmm..." Link sighed, squeezing your hip. You continued to stroke his hair.

Even though he became more daring when he was drunk, he'd still never touch you in a sexual way in even a semi-public context. You knew he just wanted to be closer to you. (Sometimes you wondered in amusement, if Link would attach himself to you, given the opportunity.)

Link looked sleepier than anything, and you brushed gently along his ears, coming to a decision.

"Everyone, it's been amazing to meet with you all and catch up, but I think it's about time we turn in for the night." You smiled, helping Link up, who neglected to let go of you. Whether due to trouble keeping upright or simply a desire to touch you, you didn't know.

Not that it really mattered. All you were worried about now was getting your boy to bed. 

[catsoupki]

box me up until i spill | bkg x reader blurb

“what are you doing?” bakugou mumbles

“nothing, will you just go back to sleep?” you don’t look at him when you speak, but instead you focus all of your attention onto your current task

“well i can’t when you’re just making random metal clashing noises next to me, just get back onto the bed and leave it for later when we wake up again, it’s not that fucking urgent”

you take a deep breath, but with the way you roughly slam the spoons into the box that houses the forks, it sends a grimace onto his face. in turn, he rolls over from facing you and now the wall

“if you did this when i asked you to yesterday maybe i wouldn’t have to do it right now but you didn’t, so just wait two more god damn minutes and then you can sleep again okay?”

he sighs, and for a moment you think that he’ll keep his mouth shut and keep quiet for once, suddenly the utensils you’re organising feel cold and biting against your skin, they feel like they’re drooping and melting into putty right in between your grasp, and you can’t catch it

“can you just give it a rest?” he goes from facing the wall to sitting up, the curtains flutter slightly in the wind and it tussles his hair in a way that makes you want to cry

“no i can’t fucking do that! i’ve laid out my life right in front of you and i’ve given you myself yet it’s still not enough! you’re a hero who doesn’t get to sleep at night fine i get it! but i’m not any less important so don’t you ever go around and speak to me like that ever again! you promised me all those eight years ago in that basketball court the day we graduated, and you remember what i said yeah? if you did i’d fucking leave!”

all the work you’ve been doing the past ten minutes is rinsed down the drain, useless and helpless to end, the flailing of your arms has caused the box that stored all the metal utensils to fall onto the floor. chopsticks, spoons, forks and knives poke at the hardwood floor and at the edges of furniture, it doesn’t chip the wall, it chips your heart instead.

you’re tired, and even when you’re not dressed for the outside, in mere pyjama pants and a random shirt that you go to sleep in, you walk towards the door and leave the mess behind you

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Static

This is a drabble I have been planning for a while and I finally know how I want to write it :3

Are you ready?

First Drabble here (with original prompt by @spotaus ) Prev Drabble here Next Drabble here

You see.... there was still something that hadden been addressed :3 Something about how Dust was dealing with the pressure and looks and backstory he has to follow :3

No beta and no edit. (also it is a big boy woops)

Timeline is that Nightmare was deaged like 4 months ago. One month in farmtale

*---------------*

Cross isn't sure how to deal with the tension in the air.

The bickering between Killer and Dust isn't making it any better.

Okay, Cross has got to be honest. It is much as much bickering as it is Killer being annoying and Dust trying to ignore him.

It had started this morning wiht Dust being more anti-social than usual. Easy to note by the fact that he had darkened the inside of his hoody.

Dust hadn't said a single word the whole day even as he went through the motions perfectly.

Cross is enver sure how to help in these moments. The moments which Horror once explained where most likely the times when the maybe ghost maybe hallucination of Dust's brother were extra loud.

Cross isn't even sure what that situation is. He asked everyone but Dust about it and no one really knows for sure if the Papyrus haunting Dust is actually a ghost. Or if it is a hallucination made of his own guilt. From what Cross heard from the others Dust isn't sure either.

The fact remains. They had tried to help in the ways they usually do. Cross tried to stay near in case he wanted something but mostly kept quiet. Cross tried to be a quiet reminder that Dust isn't alone and isn't whereever he was before.

Horror makes Dust's favourites and gently bullies him into eating and taking care of himself.

Killer tries to distract him.

Killer's tactis either goes very well or very wrong. At least Cross has been told that.

Cross has seen the two fight obviously but as soon as one manages to down the other the fight ends. The winner will be smug in their own way, Killer by loudly proclaiming victory while Dust will just have this smug little smile on his face.

The first time they just tackled one another to fight Cross had been worried. But after getting Horror and asking him what to do he had reassured Cross that this was just something the two did. For Dust it helps unload some of his large magic levels and overcharge and for Killer... welll Horror isn't sure about Killer, he assumes Killer just likes fighting or the attention with fighting.

Cross watches as Killer hangs all over Dust and yaps away about something. Cross can see that the fork Dust is holding is slowly but surely starting to curve under the pressure of Dust's phalanges.

Cross can see that Crop is a lot more nervous as he looks between the two worried before looking at Horror. Horror shrugs at the unspoken question.

Cross turns to check on Nightmare and sees him looking at the two with a frown. Cross grins and nudges him "No need to frown. Just them being silly again." he smiles.

Nightmare looks at him before looking back at the two. The frown not leaving "no... it isn't."

Cross is immediantly more worried, and he already was worried! He studies the two and notices that Dust is breathing very shallowly. Cross looks at Horror and signs it quickly to him.

Horror has a look of alarm on his face before slowly, and very carefully, inching closer "Come on Killer. That is enough. Not in the kitchen."

Killer grins cheerfully, completely unaware of the ticking timebomb he is hanging over "oooooh! here comes your knight in shining armour Dusty!"

Dust's fist twitches and Cross can see the fork fold over completely. Oh no.

Killer continues on as he leans on the other "Princess Dusty, getting saved and needing protection-"

And Killer flies over the table right into the stone wall, leaving large cracks on it. Dust follows two seconds after and punches him straight on the face.

Horror gets to Dust and tries to pull him off only to be turned blue and pushed away. Horror manages to fight the force but is still pushed away.

Cross doesn't think as he grabs Nightmare and backs up against the wall on the other side of the room. Even as Nightmare makes an unhappy noise and reaches for Dust. Nope! Not save right now!

Dust stands there panting heavily as mana and magic crack like electricity over him. Fuck. He is overcharged with magic. Fuck they are idiots to not realise that was going to happen soon. Fuck fuck fuck.

Horror somehow still looks calm even with the two different coloured eye lights staring straight at him from under the dark hood. "It is okay... we just ened to go out and-"

Dust huffs "Don't fucking bother." he sounds furious. He glances around the room and looks into Cross's direction for a moment. Dust looks away with a flinch and he is out of the room.

The front door slams shut.

Horror is by Killer as he helps him up. Killer groans as he rubs his skull "okay... maybe i was pushing it... again."

Horror gives him a 'no shit' look before checking his wounds.

Cross glances at Crop who had backed out of the kitchen and now inches back in "is everyone okay? what... waht was that?!" he waves at the front door.

Horror sighs as he rubs his skull "Overcharge... Dust has a lot of LV, EXP, magic and mana. Even with his buffed stats it gets a lot and he needs to release the steam or well... it goes off." he glances around "Sorry for your kitchen..."

Crop nods as he looks at the frontdoor "is it... safe for him?"

Horror nods as he looks into the same direction "It is... just dumb i forgot he would need to discharge...." he sighs.

Killer groans as he gets up "We all forgot. We have been busy and well... I think Dusty forgot as well."

A tug on his sleeve and Cross looks down at Nightmare. Nightmare just looks at him "Can I go to Dust?"

Cross feels panicked "no?! Just let him discharge Nightmare. You know he will be fine."

Nightmare shakes his skull as he looks at the frontdoor "It seemed different... I can't explain." a frown on his face of frustration.

Cross frowns as he looks at Horror and Killer. They share looks before moving towards the front door.

A loud boom of thunder and they open it to stare.

A large vortext of pure black clouds with purple lightning. SLowly but surely swirling to somewhere above the fields.

Crop whistles "Well then... I never saw that much magic before." he frowns and points "That normal?"

Cross follows the direction as he sees small zaps and static all in the air, all that same purple colour.

Killer shakes his skull "No that isn't normal... fuck I need to apologise..." he rubs his skull before quickly looking at Nightmare "don't repeat that." Nightmare shoots him an annoyed look.

Killer grins back before walking towards the stairs of the porch with purpose. only to get zapped as soon as he gets off the wood. Killer yelps and rushes back to stand behind Horror. glaring at the air "Rude! What the hell Dusty!"

horror frowns at him "hurt?"

Killer shakes his skull "More like a tiny zap when you are like static and stuff." he frowns and looks at the air "Though i don't know how that will be once that gets worse..."

Cross frowns as he follows Killer's sight. Cross can admit he is also worried. if this gets much worse it can spell very bad news.. not to forget that it has never been this bad before... Is this just what happened if they don't help him remember to discharge in time? Is Dust even okay with this much pressure and magic going on?

Cross frowns as he hands Nightmare to Horror "You guys stay here. Help Crop with the kitchen and keep Ngihtmare safe." just in case.

Ngihtmare glares as he is put down "I am safe!"

Cross nods and stares at Killer and Horror "I am going to go to help and try to get him to calm down and discharge safely." a spar usually works best.

Horror frowns as he shakes his skull "I will just come back if it goes wrong."

Cross shoots him a look "I got better stats and have the endurance to keep dodging to get through the worst. Killer has a straight up bullseye by his sternum and he annoyed Dust already. YOu may come back but do you really want to do that to Dust?" Horror frowns but nods his agreement. Cross nods himself "just keep an eye on Nightmare and-"

"See? Perfectly safe."

They all turn only to stare. Becuase Nightmare is just standing off of the porch. in the middle of the static. But nothing happens. the static follows along his body but never zaps him. Nightmare looks unamused "I will go to dusty and fix this."

Cross shakes his skull as he gets off the porch. Fuck the zapping is almost constant. He gets ot Nightmare and picking him up gives him a much much much larger and slightly painful zap. Cross breaths through it "No. You are going to stay here and wait. This is our mess so we will fix it ourselves." he nuzzles the small skull "We got this."

Nightmare looks unhappy to doesn't fight being handing back to Horror, Horror flinches at the zap but takes it in stride.

Cross nods to the others and goes into the direction of the large vortex of clouds.

The zapping is honestly just annoying. It helps that Cross can see none of his HP dropping even as he gets closer and closer.

He ends up finding Dust in the wheat field, well in a circle of completely vaporized wheat. the current and magic having turned the plants and part of the ground into ash. Dust just stands there. muttering as crackles of lighting go all along his body.

Cross gulps before stealing himself "Hey Dust!"

Dust freezes. Okay! Good news! Dust can still hear him! not too far gone!

Cross smiles and feels a bit braver "sorry we didn't realise... want to spar? Blow off a bit of steam?"

Dust tilts his skull but nothing. okay wait! Cross knows what this means!

Cross speaks louder "don't listen to whatever he says!" Dust doesn't react. Cross takes a step closer "please. whatever he says it isn't true or real oaky? Or at least not the full truth and-"

Dust chuckles and stares at him "What? Think i ened fucking protection from him?"

Cross blinks and opens and clsoes his mouth. Not sure what to say "I... euh... maybe?" is this a trick question?

Dust looks displeased by his answer. That is fair Cross couldn't commit to either answer. Dust huffs "Don't fucking bother. I am fine."

Cross frowns and feels braver again. No time for self doubt. Dust needs his help. Cross steps clsoer "You aren't fine."

Dust glares back at him "I am fine!" crackles and the ring of vaporized wheat grows bigger. Oh man Cross hopes Crop won't lose too much money thanks to that.

Cross gulps but keeps going closer "It is okay Dust... If it hurts i can heal you!" his healing is weak but he can still heal! "We just need to get you to use some magic and-"

Dust snaps "You want to see fucking magic!" and it crackles loudly as a snap of lightning crashed just by Dust's feet. Cross yelps and feels afraid it did damage but Dust seems fine even as the energy from the lightning travels through the ground. A loud whine of magic nad Cross sees an overgrown blaster right by Dust's shoulder.

Dust hisses "leave. me. alone."

The blaster blasts and Cross dodges. After the dodge Cross actually feels reassured.

You see?

If Dust wants to hit you. He will hit you. The fact he gave Cross enough time to get ready to dodge and didn't change the direction of the beam to still hit him gives Cross hope.

Cross glares back "I am not leaving." not again. He is not giving up on them again.

Dust glares as more blasters appear "You think I won't do it?! You think I am fucking weak?!"

...Weak?

Cross blinks "No? You are like one of the strongest mosnters I know..." Cross has seen Dust fight Ink 1v1 and win. Dust weak? Why would he ever think that? Who would ever think that?

Dust laughs and more crackles in the air as the static grows. Dust's face becomes visible and he smiles sharply at him "That is quite a different answer than you gave before!"

before? When?! Cross never said Dust was weak!

Cross doesn't really have a chance to dodge. Because even if Dust gives him time to see the attacks coming Cross sitll has to dodge them himself.

Dust growls as he charges more attacks "Helpless? Weak? Useless? come on! You can tell me! I already figured it out anyway! With the endless hovering and shadowing!" another blast.

It clicks.

They are fucking idiots!

Cross looks at him panicked "It is just an backstory!" Dust had said no. They still pushed and he had been unhappy wiht it.

They thought it was fine.

But then again. It isn't Cross who has to deal with it with every interaction he has...

Shit. They are assholes.

Cross barely dodges another blast and Dust frowns a tiny bit. He pulls his arm a bit back and a few blasters hold their fire "Well?! Still weak?! Still useless!?"

Cross needs to do something.

And well, the answer is obvious.

Cross gets ready for his sprint. He needs all the speed he can get. Dust sees him hold his own run and rolls his eye lights before shooting at him with a sneer on his face.

Cross runs straight at Dust, straight at the blast. Dust's sockets and eye lights widen and he has to pull hard at his own magic. the air crackles angerly as the blast changes directions just before it hits Cross.

Cross gets right up into Dust's personal space and locks his arms around the other.

Dust snarls and tries to free himself but Cross has more physical strenght than he has and Cross has a good hold on him with locking his arms to his side.

Dust screams and wiggles "Let me go!"

Cross shakes his skull and pushes close to the other "No. I am not letting go of you." not of you. not of nightmare. not of the others. No. He isn't letting go.

Struggling and more screaming. Blasters going off but without his arms he can't aim them right. Dust goes as far as trying to kick, scratch and even bite him but Cross just keeps holding on. Refusing to give up or give in.

The storm around them calms slowly and eventually Dust goes lax in his arms. still some uneasy crackles far above them but the vortex disappeared and the clouds turned more of a dark grey colour.

It starts to rain and this is when Cross thinks it would be safe to let him go. Not that he does. Cross keeps holding on.

Dust isjust lax in his hold. Not saying a word and Cross doens't even know how to say what he wants to say. That he is sorry for pushing. For not helping Dust think of a new plan. So being so okay with Dust having had to carry most of the burding concerning their back story. and later more responsiblity about money. and before that even with taking care of nightmare. All wihtout Cross even trying to help him.

Cross had just... liked the idea of the backstory. That Dust came to them for help, that Cross had a bit of the savior role in the story... Just like he had enjoyed the idea of some people thinking he and dust had a kid together. Just like he enjoys the idea that everyone knows the four of them are an unit and won't separate... Cross is a jerk.

He still isn't sure what to say "... We can probably change the backstory still..." Instead he just talks.

Dust just sounds tired "We can't..."

Cross shakes his skull and just tightens his hold "No we totally can!" think think think "We... we... we can just be that... that i was the one with the ex! But that i hadn't been sure about a kid... and so i just left but regretted it and found out about the bad stuff..." he is just rambling "So i went back and got you guys for help but nightmare had been so young so he didn't remember me and i was still weird about being a father but you were great at it so you and nightmare bonded and so we just kinda told him it was you and... and..." Cross doesn't know. he is stuck and can't think.

Dust snorts against his shoulder "People will hate that... they won't trust us in anyway if they 'found out' we lied..."

Cross gulps and knows he is right. still... "I am sorry... I should have told killer to stuff it when he oppered."

Dust shrugs "Could have done that myself..."

They continue to sit there in the rain. Cross trying to think of some way to fix this mess.

Dust sighs "It is fine... just... stupid... got the best of me... won't happen again."

Cross feels even worse "I am sorry..."

Dust tries to pull back, probably to shoot him a look of some kind but Cross just keeps holding him tighter. No. Not letting go.

Dust sighs and gives in rather easily "I know why... it is fine..."

Cross shakes his skull "you are overworked... and we were to dumb to see."

Dust lets out an annoyed sigh again "I don't need a babysitter. I should be able to take care of myself just fine cross."

Cross feels tears appear but pusehs them back "It isn't being a babysitter you moron! It is about being friends and looking out for one another and not being a dumb idiot to forget one of your friends also needs help!"

silence.

Cross just keeps going "We shouldn't have pushed the backstory. WHen you said no we should ahve just accepted that! You were uncomfortable wiht that plan. YOu are still uncomfortable wiht it. it isn't fair that we kept pushing and you had to brun for it."

Cross feels himself start to ramble and he doesn't bother to stop it "And then the tinkering! You like that and that is great but that doesn't mean it should be a must or have the pressure of being our solo income! You are overworked and tired and need rest and i don't want to hear any comment or self hating joke about you being lazy!"

Dust huffs and mutters "kill joy" but stays quiet otherwise.

Cross keeps going as if he didn't interrupt him "You are also the one who takes charge with Nightmare and that is fine as well as long as you don't have all the pressure! It is unfair of us to just assume you will decide or have the decision or even that you thought about it! Even if you do have the answers and you did think about it it isn't fair that we put that expectation and pressure on you! We are a team and we should share the burden of stuff!"

Cross pants as he just sits there. feeling partly mortified by what he just said and partly relieved he managed to get it all out.

Dust is quiet for a long time before answering "I don't mind it..." it is hardly more than a whisper.

Cross huffs and just keeps holding it "Even if you don't mind it now clearly it is too much or we wouldn't be sitting in a circle of vaporized plants."

Dust is silent but does give a small nod against his shoulder.

Cross nods himself "When you feel okayish. we will go back to the others. you are going to get cleaned up and sleep. actually sleep. and sleep in. No more trying to get up early wiht Nightmare."

Dust mutters "I sleep in..."

Cross huffs "Yeah. until like 8 or 9 compared to the 5 and 6 of Horror and me. But I mean you need to sleep sleep Dust. Sleep in untill at least 10. Don't even think I won't get Horror or Killer to tie you down to the bed!" Dust is almost always up until late at night. he needs rest clearly.

Dust snorts and mutters "Don't let Killer hear you say that. He will have many things to say about that implication about your preferences."

Oh god no brain don't think about that mental image when Dust is stuck in your arms. You don't want to have that type of conversation now when that image does things to you!

Cross feels himself blush as he stares striaght ahead "Very funny."

Dust snorts "I know."

Cross huffs before spekaing again "Well then! You are going to sleep in and get the rest you actually need. We are no longer going to allow you to plan your days full like you did before anymore."

Dust groans "Cross we still need money."

Cross nods "and so we will figure something out eventually! But you are no longer trying to earn enough for everyone. And please for the love of everything actually buy something nice for yourself for once!" so far he had only spend money on stuff for Nightmare. or clothes for any of them. Cross appreciates the clean clothes and things but please Dust just get stuff for yourself.

Dust mutters and mumbles some stuff but nothing that Cross can really make heads or tails from "Good! Now that we agreed to that... Ready to go back?"

Dust is quiet again but sighs "Yeah.... need to apologise to Killer for attacking him... and crop for probably breaking part of his house..."

Cross nods "Yeah... Good news though Killer didn't have actual HP damage so i think even when mad you were pretty controlled over what you actually wanted, which was just Killer to shut up I guess... as for Crop's house I only saw some cracks and Horror and I can do enough construction stuff to fix that." a moment of silence "Also Killer owns you an apology for annoying you the whole day."

Dust listens before sighing "Thanks..."

They sit a moment longer before they both get up. Cross can't help his curiosity as he sticks his phalanges into the lose sand.

Dust frowns at him "What are you doing?"

Cross looks away embarresed "Heard that... if lightning strikes sand like glass is made... I am curious..." he feels something but can't pull it out. Instead he pushes more sand and dirt aside and uncovers a giant glass electric strike in the ground. he can see how the electricity move and made the glass.

Dust frowns at it "Hopefully I didn't ruin his field... Will have to dig that out and any other stuff to make sure it doesn't damage his machinery when he does farming stuff." Dust already sounds tired as he looks around his large circle were Cross cna see multiple hits of lightning hit the ground.

Cross pats his back "It is fine. Horror and I got a lot of free time so we will get to that tomorrow."

Dust looks at him before sighing and nodding "fine."

Cross nods.

The two walk back as Cross looks at the sky "It is clearing... I didn't know you could do the whole sky thing..."

Dust shrugs "never did that before."

huh. Cross keeps looking up "Think it was because you have more charge or something?"

Dust shrugs "Could be..."

Cross nods as he taps his chin "We will need to make sure you don't overcharge faster than..."

Dust is quiet but Cross feels Dust nudge his shoulder. Cross beams at him and Dust shoots him a small smile back.

They near the house and find their other three boys waiting on the porch. Dust goes straight to nightmare nad hugs him before looking at Horror and Killer for just amoment before looking down "sorry... I.... sorry."

Horror smiles bakc and nods. Killer grins himself and shrugs "Euh. It is fine. Sorry to you for once again not picking up on your social clues." he rubs his cheek which has a large bruise "No hard feelings."

Dust nods and agrees easily enough.

After apologizing to Crop for the mess in both the kitchen and field and promising to fix it they get back to their attic. They take a moment to sit together and Cross explains what the deal had been about. Mostly because dust had retreated to hoody-city while hugging Nightmare and was refusing to admit himself what was wrong.

Killer and Horror both look deeply unhappy with this newly gotten information and looka t Dust. Dust manages to somehow look even further away as he mutters "Cross makes it sound worse than it is."

Cross glares. Rude! Because he actually thinks he is underselling the issue!

Killer must come to the same conclusion as he wiggles around until he is laying right up against Dust's side and looks at him begging "You know that I know you are like the strongest monster ever right? Like it is obvious. We all know that? You know that right?"

Dust shrugs and nods but Corss has his doubts. Seeing as he didn't seem to beleive so just moments ago. Killer pouts and has his scheming face on.

Cross sighs "Either way... we need to balance the work load better." he shoots Nightmare a look "You aren't allowed to share the load as you are a child and no child labor."

Ngihtmare huffs and crosses his arms "I can help"

Killer nods "You help by staying safe nad being a good babybones!" Nightamre grumbles even more and pushes closer to Dust.

Horror hums and nods "We will... need to calm down... Taking it easy with townvisits." he shoots Dust a look "Only when it is relaly necessary."

Dust huffs and mutters "Still need cash."

Horror nods "We will figure that out later. First taking things calmly. step by step."

Cross nods as he sees Dust relax a bit. Step by step. They can do this. They got each other and everything will be fine.

*---------------*

First Drabble here Prev Drabble here Next Drabble here

[cryscendo]

Hi, how about an abrupt,  heated kiss during the middle of a fight for Klaine?

i bet you didn’t think i would ever respond to this!! well i will say that i kinda ran away with this plot a bit. does it fit the prompt? only vaguely. BUT it’s another thrilling installment to my angel/demon au with a bit more lore thrown in. dedicating it to you as well as @porcelainvino for their various art pieces for this au <3 hope you love it and sorry for the wait!!

Paring: Kurt Hummel/Blaine Anderson

Word Count: 2030

Rating: T

AU: Angel/Demon AU

fic can be read under the cut <3

There were a lot of things that turned out to be just as unpleasant about falling, not including the actual falling part.

For one, he was weaker than he used to be. He did suspect that would happen, but it still hurt his ego a bit. He used to have so much power that he often didn’t even know what all to do with it. Not that he really could do much with it anyway; the big men upstairs never allowed much fun to be had. More time was spent existing as a militant entity than was spent actually basking in the alleged splendor that was heaven.

If given the option between going back to that or experiencing the pain of falling all over again, Kurt would choose to fall every damn day.

Besides, angels don’t get to play with humans like they’re Barbie dolls. And that’s way more fun.

The man before him, unsuspecting and ignorant, saw Kurt at a bar and thought he’d be an easy target. Kurt knew he perfectly looked the part of a young man getting his first drink at a bar as a twenty-one year old. Aging was such an earthly concept and Kurt was not burdened with it. But to an older man, the illusion of wide-eyed innocence was all too compelling.

Kurt claimed he ‘knew a spot’, which was just as cliché as it sounded, but it was effective nonetheless. Apparently intelligence didn’t always come with age.

It wasn’t long after he got the man to the abandoned storage facility that he knew something was terribly, terribly wrong. Not soon enough, though, for Kurt had already made quick work of knocking the man out and handcuffing him to a chair. When he came to once more, it was in a fit of panic.

“Look, I didn’t sign up for this kind of crazy! So just let me go, okay?” The man pleaded with Kurt and it was charming if nothing else. Kurt leaned over him, one knee braced against the chair in a way that could be seen as provocative in any other circumstance.

“What, am I too old for you?” Kurt asked in a mocking whine. “I swear, I’m only twenty, maybe thirty centuries old!”

“Whatever game you’re playing here, kid, I’m not interested so just let me-”

“Let him go, Kurt,” a voice spoke up behind him. Kurt grinned as he straightened up. Of course he would show up. It was impossible for him to stay away. He made a bit of a show of turning around to face the new arrival — his favorite little angel.

He turned towards the voice, maintaining his flirty tone. “Just can’t stay away from me, can you?”

“You could say that,” Blaine replied and that’s when Kurt saw it — the glint of a blade held discreetly in his palm. He recognized the weapon, as it was a piece from Heaven’s arsenal. See, a regular knife couldn’t kill Kurt.

But that one could.

Kurt’s grin dropped as he backed away from the man strapped to the chair, and subsequently also away from Blaine. “What do you think you’re doing with that?”

“You attract too much attention to yourself.”

“Well, I can’t help but pull focus,” Kurt responded in a rather clipped manner. The man in the chair began to panic even more upon being approached by Blaine.

“Listen, man,” the guy began quickly, “you don’t need to kill him or anything! Just let me go and I’ll be on my way!”

Blaine’s eyes flickered down to the stranger, eerily calm. “You don’t need to see this,” he said simply and before the man could even begin to reply, Blaine rested his palm to his forehead, immediately knocking him out. Putting a human to sleep rather than killing them; that was so painfully just like Blaine to do.

“Why do you have that thing?” Kurt interrogated the second that the man was unconscious.

Blaine turned the knife a bit in his hand as if observing it. “Come on, Kurt, you know exactly what this is.”

Kurt maintained a semi-safe distance. “Why do you need that thing to kill me? You’ve never needed that for a demon before.” It was true. Blaine could take down a demon easily. It made them cruelly unmatched. Blaine had never threatened to kill him before, but it would be undoubtedly easy for him to do so should he want to. For Blaine, a demon is an easy target. He was an easy target.

Unless…

Kurt’s grin returned. “You can’t kill me, can you?” He asked coyly.

Blaine remained serious, but Kurt could see a crack in his expression letting on that he was nervous. Kurt seemed to always have that effect on him. “Not at my rank, no,” he said simply, but Kurt knew what he meant. He wasn’t strong enough to take out Kurt. An ordinary demon, he’d have no problem. But as luck would have it, Kurt wasn’t an ordinary demon.

Kurt took a risk. He moved a few steps towards Blaine and the weapon he possessed. “You’re not going to kill me.”

“I could.”

A few more steps. “But you won’t.”

“I might.”

“But you won’t.” Kurt was directly in front of him now. He knew it was a dangerous game, but he had a point to prove. “Because if you were going to, you would’ve done it already. So tell me angel, was this a direct order from one of your bossmen, or are you just simply that obsessed with me?”

“Don’t push your luck, Kurt,” Blaine spoke, gravely serious.

“Or what?” Kurt challenged. He could feel Blaine’s steady breaths from just how close they were. Blaine’s gaze met his evenly. “If you’re going to kill me, then do it. I’m wide open.” Kurt tilted his head a fraction, his eyes alight with the rush that comes with toying with Blaine. His tone shifted into something devilishly flirtatious as he spoke again. “So, y’know, take me, I’m yours and all that.”

It was then that Blaine sprung into action. With quick work, he managed to securely grip onto the collar of Kurt’s shirt, using his strength over the other to force Kurt backwards. There was a time where Kurt may have been stronger than him. But Kurt gave all that up, and he still refused to regret it.

That didn’t mean he loved Blaine constantly using that fact against him.

Blaine got him against a wall with one particularly rough push. Kurt felt the brittle wall crack slightly behind him. Fuck, Blaine was strong.

Blaine was strong.

Once Blaine has Kurt pinned defenseless against the wall, he brings the blade down. Kurt doesn’t know whether it was thanks to adrenaline, or his own sense of speed in the face of self-preservation, but he reached up and circled his fingers around Blaine’s wrist before he could manage to connect the weapon.

The blade stilled, suspended in the air between them. Kurt imagined the scene was almost picturesque in a way — him pressed between Blaine’s firm body and the unforgiving wall, his long fingers locked around Blaine’s wrist. Angel and demon. Lovers. Enemies.

Blaine really was going to kill him.

Their shared breathing revealed the exhaustion that their overexertion had caused. Kurt knew, given his current position, he was fully at Blaine’s mercy. The mercy of an angel who just tried to kill him.

That gave Kurt little other choice. Slowly, he tugged at Blaine’s wrist until the blade was sitting just above his throat. He leveled Blaine with a steely look, deathly serious. “Well, go ahead, angel. Do what you gotta do.”

“I don’t want to kill you, Kurt,” Blaine clarified, but didn’t pull the blade away.

“Could’ve fooled me,” he bit out before he could even think to check his tone. This was, in large part, his own doing. He opened the door for Blaine to corner him, he really had no right to be upset about it actually occurring. Even in his current position, Kurt couldn’t refrain from looking down his nose at Blaine, hoping to properly demonstrate his distaste from his present circumstances. “I’m guessing you got assigned a job from one of the big men upstairs?”

“You’re lucky that it’s me and not someone else.”

“Oh yeah, I sure feel lucky.” Kurt’s fingers twitched around Blaine’s wrist as he continued to hold the blade close to Kurt’s throat. But hasn’t pressed in yet, and Kurt cannot fathom why. He has the perfect opportunity. Kurt is basically giving him a free pass, so why isn’t he going for it? “Well?”

Blaine’s grip on the weapon slacked just a bit. “Nothing is ever easy with you.”

“So why don’t you take care of the problem?”

Blaine said nothing, did nothing. He only stood and continued to watch Kurt in silence, and Kurt could practically see the flurry of thoughts swirl around in Blaine’s head. Kurt almost felt bad for the guy; he knew that he didn’t make Blaine’s job simple, and admittedly, does very little to combat that fact.

Eventually, though, Blaine shakes his head. “You’re right. I won’t do it.”

The sound of the metal blade clattering to the ground reverberated discordantly off the walls of the warehouse.

Kurt took no time to ponder Blaine’s decision to spare him. Instead, he kicked the weapon away from the two of them and then, in quick succession, flipped their two positions. Blaine didn’t put up any fight with being pushed up against the wall himself. He could break free if he really wanted to. He chose not to.

“Do you still love me, Blaine?” Kurt asked, not ready for the words to fall from his mouth before they did.

“Are demons even capable of love?”

Kurt wasn’t sure. Maybe demons who never experienced love aren’t. Love is formed from soul, grace, and humanity, of which demons have none.

But Kurt wasn’t always a demon, and he still didn’t really fit the mold of one. Fallen angels are different from regular demons. They still possess morality, at least to some extent. It was just like Kurt to never really fit in anywhere.

“Do you? Still love me?”

Honey colored eyes gazed at Kurt with something akin to sympathy, which would burn his blood if it weren’t for the fact that he so desperately needed a response.

Blaine nodded.

Kurt kissed him. He didn’t even hesitate. With Blaine pinned up against the wall, it was easy for him to leverage a searing, bruising kiss against soft lips. Blaine always tasted the same, like coffee, — such an earthly pleasure that he achieved no benefit from and only chose to indulge for its luxury — and something else a touch more divine. Kurt couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but it tasted vaguely familiar from the holy kingdom that he was no longer welcome to.

Kurt pulled away with a sigh. Blaine panted quietly, a faintly pink blush forming under tanned skin. Kurt was right about one thing, Blaine was an angel — in every sense of the word.

“I don’t suppose I can convince you to disappear for your own safety?” Blaine eventually asked.

Kurt smiled. “Not a chance in hell.”

Blaine nodded in understanding, as if he already anticipated Kurt’s response. “You always were stubborn to a fault.”

Blaine wasn’t wrong. And as much as he would love to stand here with Blaine forever, it wasn’t wise to hang around angels for too long — even if the angel in question was Blaine.

He finally stepped away from Blaine, allowing the man some space. Kurt glanced over to the man tied to the chair. He had forgotten that guy was here. He was simply a means to an end, afterall.

“You may want to wipe that guy’s mind, angel. Or else he’s going to be a real problem when he wakes up.”

Kurt headed towards the exit of the building, but not before Blaine called out to him. “Suddenly not so keen on sticking around?”

Kurt grinned, if not mostly to himself. “Oh, don’t worry, you’ll find me again. And who knows? Maybe you’ll actually have it in you to kill me next time.”

[player1064]

Jamie Carragher character thesis statement

[imtrashraccoon]

Just a thought but imagining Nightmare in a fairy tale where he would be the prince is so funny because he's an evil and grumpy guy and would be the second villan or something

on that note. Rapunzel Au.

I'm reminded of the fairy tale about the swan princes who's sister had to make them coats so they could turn back into humans again. I'm otherwise not super familiar with fairy tales lol.

This is funny to picture!

Mkay. cracks fingers

Here is a quick spitball for a Rapunzel AU.

The queen is about to give birth to the Royal family's first child, however she falls ill and like in the original fairy tale, someone steals the witch's flower. Although this time, it's not a flower but a magic apple. The apple cures the queen's illness and she gives birth.

The witch is angry that her source of eternal youth was stolen and she decides to steal the Royal family's new child out of revenge. Only there's two children instead of one. The witch steals them away for nefarious witchy purposes but is nearly caught and so only manages to escape with one - Dream.

Nightmare is injured in the commotion, possibly being dropped by accident, but is ultimately rescued and survives his injuries. The kingdom mourns the loss of one of their young princes but life goes on.

Dream is a happy child and grows up in a secluded tower, far away from the kingdom in a forest. He's kept from the world outside by his supposedly loving mother, the witch. Maybe he makes a few odd friends like Ink or other wanderers but he never gets to see them or actually leave the tower.

Meanwhile, Nightmare also grew up and took the throne after his mother died; maybe there was an attempted coup or something. He was cold and often cruel to those who'd supposedly wronged him, earning himself quite the fearsome reputation. The problem is, his injury left him disfigured and he often struggles to function at the same level as those around him. He's also incredibly lonely but has no one willing to be friends with him. Maybe he creates an inner circle of men he tasks with doing the dirty work.

MC is a dashing rogue that has earned a rather high bounty. They stumble upon the tower one day while on the run after a job (possibly from the Royal Guard) and meet Dream. After some humourous shenanigans, they agree to take him to go see the outside world since he's been wanting to leave for a while. Maybe Ink tags along for fun and they meet some other interesting characters, like Blue who's an aspiring guard.

They travel around and see the sights of the kingdom. Their presence doesn't escape Nightmare's eye and he sends some of his men after them. (Cue Horror, Killer, and Dust.) Dream and MC don't know why Nightmare is after them but they really don't want to be caught. So an epic fight scene ensues!

Eventually, there is a confrontation with Nightmare and Dream actually recognizes him but doesn't know why. Nightmare doesn't either and hesitates to attack them. MC decides to be a hero and creates a distraction so that Dream can escape.

Dream finds himself in the forest again which is where the witch finds him and acts overjoyed to see him alive and well. The witch entreats him to return to the tower where it's safe and he does, for a time. During his time in the kingdom, he heard the tale of the lost prince and eventually he realizes that he's that prince. His "mother" only wants him for his healing powers and so he confronts her but it doesn't go well.

Meanwhile, Nightmare can't stop thinking about how familiar that golden skeleton felt and so he questions a captured MC. At first, they don't want to tell him anything but when they make the connection that Dream must be the lost prince, they agree to work together to find him.

MC is released and they make their way back to the tower, although the guards are slower to follow. They find Dream has been tied up and go to free him, only to be attacked by the witch. Nightmare arrives just in time and turns the tide of the fight. He can't kill the witch on his own, despite how powerful his magic is, and it takes the combined efforts of everyone to finally slay her.

With the witch dead, Dream returns to the kingdom with his brother and they work together to rule fairly. Although, Dream has a habit of sneaking out to go see his friends, which irritates Nightmare to no end, until he is eventually persuaded to by his men to join in as well of course!

[frankenjoly]

Forgiveness

for @tachiginweek2024's day 3: (post-vampirism) + scars + t4t + betrayal

When Tachihara approached (ambushed) them, Gin was changing clothes before heading home. So he found him shirtless, only wearing the same binder they had on that time when she had come out to him after being found exactly like they were now. 

Then Tachihara had also come out to them in return, by literally showing it was something they had in common.

A lot of things had happened since then including the two of them getting closer and facing several catastrophes, the last one being what had prompted quite the reveal about his partner: the Tachihara Michizô they had come to know and care about, who had even gotten to be his boyfriend, was a liar. And he had been since right from the start no less.

“Gin…”

Instead of answering, they opted for remaining silent.

Knowing he had never been fully a soldier deep down, that he had chosen the Port Mafia the same as it had chosen him, helped a little. Knowing harming both Hirotsu and Gin herself had been all for show, to protect them further, helped a little. Actions, after all, said way more than words. That was why the only thing they had done was somewhat reverting to his past ways of being cut and dry to him for a while, to either sign only when talking or straight up making Tachihara infer her thoughts or mood based on behavior (besides, he was way better at that now than he had been back then), instead of fully antagonizing him or cutting all contact.

They were more than glad to have him there, but lies were lies and Gin was also pretty pissed.

“Gin.” She was even trying to avoid his gaze or face him, but in the moment Tachihara grabbed them by the wrist with the softness which indicated a plea instead of obligation, he finally turned towards Tachihara. There was only a split second of eye contact, though, since shortly after his eyes were on the scar remaining from when he had stabbed them with Gin’s own knife. “Gin, I– fuck.” Silence fell, for instead of continuing he lifted a hand towards their skin, caressing said scar with his fingertips and utmost care. And then Gin had to look away too, because the distressed expression over the redhead’s face as he did so was… simply too much.

But, at the same time, she didn’t want to surrender just yet.

(No, they did. That was why he had been keeping their partner at arms’ length, because she knew letting him get close would have that exact effect, and their pride didn’t allow him to do that before being able to fully express what was the key thing bothering her.)

‘I know you became one of us along the way. Hirotsu and I figured that out.’ They signed, glancing back at him and taking just one single step back, so Tachihara could properly see it without needing to remove his hand unless he wanted. And it didn’t seem like it. ‘So, what I want to ask is.’ Gin then took a deep breath, more to gather the remaining courage to go on than anything. ‘Did what we have started out as part of your cover too or…?’ There was no finishing the sentence, but they pointed first at herself then at him with one finger, so there was no doubt about what he meant when saying ‘we’ like that.

“Gin…” Tachihara said her name in a gasp, wide-eyed and almost awestruck, then shook his head with energy. “That was all real, please believe me. All the bonds I have here, they’re all real.”

“Don’t you dare lie to me again, Tachihara.” When Gin finally spoke out loud, it was in an attempt to sound icy and defensive. Except their voice betrayed him, this time not because of its sweet sound, and Tachihara’s eyes getting watery when hearing so wasn’t helping in the slightest.

“I swear.” He answered, serious as one could be. The hand he had established contact with moved from the part of their abdomen where the wound once was to wrap her waist, and Gin allowed it. “By my own life, even.”

A life he could have lost, like the majority of them (at the mafia, at the city and even the entire world). Finally throwing away her resolve to not yield, they mirrored Tachihara’s gesture, lifting their own hand to trace the scar which crossed his temples and eyelids passing through the bridge of his nose, that had stayed even after the vampire regeneration restored the eyes. He even closed them, making her able to go across it entirely.

After that exchange, silence became actually comfortable, and Gin let himself rest their head over Michizô’s shoulder, as well as holding his free hand. Soon, they were fused in a tight hug.

(Also on ao3.)

[ahundredtimesover]

Hi 👋🏽 I’ll be going on an indefinite break that may (or may not) be for good.

Writing fanfiction was an escape for me these past 2 years. It was a way to express my love for the tannies in how I wrote them as comfort characters, and it was a way for me to make sense of my own experiences and emotions. These fics have always been very personal, with a bit of me in every OC, my pains reflected in their stories, and words I wish someone told me growing up expressed in the dialogues. And I’ll always be so thankful that many of you related with them, found meaning in them, and found comfort in them. That will always be my favorite part 💜💜 stories are so powerful! They’ve allowed me to connect with so many people and make memories in this (mostly) lovely part of the site.

But the process of writing has also been draining, not as cathartic as it used to be, and not as fulfilling. So much as I find myself going back and forth with the numerous stories in my drafts, I can’t bring myself to continue with them. Not anytime soon, at least. Maybe one day the itch to write will be so intense, or JJK1/KTH1 drops and I’ll lose my shit (Untitled and Belong were born out of Indigo and D-day after all), or after rereading my stories, I’ll miss writing so much. The thing is, I’ve never loved BTS as much as I do right now; perhaps I’m content with screaming about that love to myself in the meantime.

I’ll be lurking around here, maybe pop in every once in a while (so plagiarists, keep off my work, pls). My stories will remain here as your comfort 😌 and I’ll do my best to put out the PLM drabbles I promised! Other than that, all the stories are complete for you to enjoy (sorry to those waiting on TLA 😔 I hate that I’m unable to continue). I also have Twitter (jmimi_mi). I’m also just a lurker but say hi if you want! 😊 we can talk bts and fics and whatnot over there (I’ll try, I promise).

Please give love to the authors who are still lovingly putting out work for the community! 🥰

[keeponquinning]

JQ drabble / blurb coming at you.

okay but like.... seeing pedro's esquire video and shoot, i can't help but think of like a slightly jealous joseph looking at you engrossed with mr. pascal, and he's just like, ".... I'm your favorite, though, right?"

making you look up immediately like, "...what? seriously?"

"I mean.... Not like you've looked at me like that in a while..."

you're just so amused about this, but you're trying to hide it, because whether he's being serious or not, he has such a pout on. "baby. it's different. like...you two are different!"

that was not the response he hoped for, "sorry? different how?"

"well, we're dating for one. and... y'know... He's just....daddy."

you've never seen his eyebrows furrow that quickly, "...and what? I'm not daddy? not daddy enough for you?"

"....you're not his level of daddy...." he scoffs. "You're younger than him! so, like.... it's different."

"okay, but... Let's just say... We go somewhere, yeah? And he happens to be there..."

it takes all of you not to laugh, "You're being so cute right now..."

"..yeah, adorable, shut up. I'm... how long would it be for you to ditch me and go over to him?"

everything in you tells you not to smile, but you can't help it, stretching wider than you thought possible, "....w e l l..."

"Oh my god, you're going to leave me for him."

"What the fuck—"

"No, no, you're going to leave me. You've planned this, probably. Seduced me, and done it well..."

"Mmm, I did have fun seducing you."

His face softens, lips lightly smiling, "...I did have fun being seduced..." He watched you smile at him, and he took a deep breath. Rising from his seat and wandered toward you. "He'd probably fall for you, you're very easy to fall for."

You snorted, giving a shrug, "Well, that was the plan. Have you fall for me, have this relationship with you, had to fuck you a few times to want to make it official," he chuckled at that. "..and then on the off chance that you get invited to some invite with him, for me to tag along... And thus, the real master plan comes into place, and Pedro and I can go off into the sunset, with his tight jeans and dad sweaters, while you, my former love, are in shambles and devastated by me."

He sighed, shaking his head, "I feel so used."

Shrugging, you reply, leaning back in your seat, "The things we do for true love."

His brown eyes look at you, bending down and leaning over you in your seat, "Can I be used by you until that happens, then?"

"Mmm...." you hummed, raising your hands to place around his neck. "I dunno... that was the plan, but, lately... Kinda felt the plan changing a bit... Like I'm falling for you and that's a problem."

"Ooh, am I charming you, darling?" he asked, grazing his lips against yours, slowly giving a kiss.

You chuckle, kissing him back, nice and slow, groaning softly. "I think you are. That's so not part of the plan, how dare you."

He's smiling now, lips pressed against the side of your neck as he kisses, bites and licks. "To use your words against you, the things we do for true love." You chuckle at that, and he weighs down further on top of you, his hands digging to the waistband of your shorts. He suddenly pops his head up, looking at you with curious eyes. "...right, okay, but, I am your favorite, though, right?"

"Oh my god," you groaned, rolling your eyes, though there's a smile there. "Okay, look, on the list of white men... You're definitely on the top of the list."

His lips twitch, biting back a laugh, instead, giving a nod. "Right, well, as far as us white men... That is impressive. Top spot?"

"Mmm..... Top three, easily."

He was silent a moment, this seeming to placate him a moment, before he let out a sigh. "One of them isn't Garfield, is it?"

"...if I call you daddy tonight, can I like...not answer that?"

His eyes looked over you, licking his lips before he gave a nod, "Y e a h, deal." Rising up and taking a hold of your hands, pulling you up and into another kiss almost immediately. His hands wrapped around your waist and pulling you close to him, tongues met, a breathy moan from both as your tastes mingled and appreciated from one another, you could feel the affect you have on him, could feel him harden against you as you pulled away, walking toward his bedroom. He takes a moment to look as you go through the bedroom door, desire and lust overtaking him. And then — "It's not fucking Obi-Wan, is it?"

"Daddy."

"Right, forgotten, coming."

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Play It Out (2)

Part 1

Eddie turned around and immediately let out a sound like a leaking party balloon when the corset dug into his sides. "Yeaaaah...that's not ideal."

Steve scoffed and ran his hand through his impressive mane. His...really, really impressive mane. Eddie thought he would have previously noticed if Steve's hair was this big, but apparently he hadn't. Or there was something very different...very wrong. Steve hasn't noticed yet. "You think? I can't believe that we survived another dimension, mind battling shit, monsters with no faces and a giant fucking smoke spider, and then we get what, sucked into a haunted VHS for kids?" He sighed deeply and shook his head. "Can it get any worse?"

"Um..." Eddie gave a nervous chuckle, staring above Steve's eyes, where the head shaking revealed...something. "I think it just has." Reaching out, he removed Steve's hands from that incredibly fluffy hair and ran his own fingers through it, seeking with his fingertips until... "Yeah, so...um. Were you by any chance hiding horns in that Hawkins-famous hairdo or are these new?"

The look of horror on Steve's face was priceless. "Oh you've got to be kidding me." Steve rushed to the nearest window to examine his reflection. And sure enough, a pair of impressive horns was peeking from the rich brown waves, not large enough to be visible all the way but enough to make him look like a... "Hey Eddie? Did you see what fairy tales were on that tape?"

Eddie, crumpled in his yellow gold dress on the ground and currently battling with the high heels that were firmly secured around his ankles, shook his head. "Nah, man. Not that I'd be able to tell. My old man wasn't exactly the 'bedtime story' type. But since I'm wearing the worst clothes in the history of humankind and some supernatural asshole twisted my hair into a bun, I'd say I'm a princess." He shook his head, valiantly tugging on the sparkly shoe. "The stuff I never thought I'd say."

"Great. Because surprise, my parents weren't big on fairy tales either. So we're going in blind again, how do you even survive in this...whatever this is, if we don't know what story it is?" Steve finally abandoned touching his horns and unsuccessfully tried to comb his hair over them. It only made them stand out more and if Eddie wasn't engaged in a battle of his life with an ankle strap, he would have laughed. He finally managed to tug both of his shoes off and flung them to the distance, bending at the waist to stand up, when he winced in pain.

"I think I broke a bone," wheezed Eddie and clutched his side. The smooth fabric of the corset was cool under his fingers and he frowned in disgust. Why the fuck was he the one in yellow when the color made him look like a scrawny canary? Meanwhile Steve was made for this bright yellow shiny monstrosity.

"What..." Steve looked horrified and immediately supported him, gently touching his abdomen, feeling a strange lump. "Shit, Eddie, that's bad, does it hurt?"

Eddie bit his lip, nodding. "Like a motherfucker," he muttered and pointed towards his back. "Can you get rid of this crap? Untie the corset? Like, five minutes ago?"

"Oh. Yeah, sure." His fingers quickly worked the corset open and gently tugged it loose, along with the upper part of the dress.

"Thank fuck." Eddie tore the offending piece of clothing from his chest, glaring daggers at it. It took him a while to notice that Steve was staring at his bare chest, concerned and...maybe a little flustered? Eddie would have liked to think so, but now he was too busy taking deep breaths. Small waists were overrated. "See anything you like, Harrington?"

Steve blinked, eyes still glued to Eddie's body. "What? Oh, no- well yes, but...sorry, what were you..." He took a step closer and gently laid his fingers onto Eddie's rib cage. "Where's that broken bone?"

"Uh...here?" Eddie waved the untied corset in Steve's face and, realizing the misunderstanding, laughed out loud. "Don't look at me like that, it was serious. Have you ever had a piece of plastic break and stab you right in your insides? Cheap clothes for a cheap fairy tale, I tell you!"

Steve visibly relaxed but he still punched his shoulder before adopting the oh so familiar angry mother stance. "Seriously, Munson, couldn't you have been a bit more specific? Just a little bit? Never scare me like that again, you hear me, I was this close to carrying you-"

His tirade was cut short by Eddie leaning into him and pressing his palm over Steve's mouth. They stood face to face, Eddie still with his hair tied back and only in the frilly white pantalettes since he managed to slip out of the skirt too. And maybe it would have been awkward, but Eddie's dark eyes were open wide as he leaned next to Steve's ear and whispered: "So, I don't want to freak you out even more, but I'm quiiite convinced a teacup just walked through the door."

Steve rolled his eyes and, when Eddie's hand didn't move, actually licked his palm. "Don't be ridiculous. It probably just rolled off a table or something," he said as Eddie nearly shrieked and proceeded to wipe his hand on the white fabric. "Maybe you haven't heard, but teacups can't walk-"

He was preparing to say more, to chastise Eddie for his ridiculous ideas. But then the door opened again and so did Steve's mouth, hanging open in comical surprise as a round teapot wobbled inside the door, rattling and calling in a high voice: "Dusty! Dusty, where did you go?"

Eddie crossed his arms and scoffed. "Yeah, Steve. Continue, I'm all ears about stuff that," he formed quotation marks in the air, "isn't possible."

Tag list: @f1ct1onwh0re @gregre369 @estrellami-1 @awkwardgravity1, @stevesworldxx, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @eboyawstenn, @theseaofdespair @mightbeasleep

[chateautae]

hi everyone 🥺

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU drabble - Moving

Hello I am back and I got another idea for this little silly au that I have @spotaus to thank for for the original idea :3 Though I think this may be officially becoming one of my AUs hahahaha

First part Prev Part Next part

Also yes. I know it would work better to number these uploads but also i am not writing these in any set order so it will become miserable for all of us if i number them because either they will be out of order or I will have to rework all the names and I am already editing links I don't need that extra energy in my life.

ANYWAY! :D

Next part! The one I lovingly clal in my head - The one where the gang finds a more permanent temporary home. (also yes. Before this they all speed-run the whole Parental bonding and emotional bonding to the idea of having a babybones. Which honestly can and probably will make four different drabbles)

-------

Horror stares at the door and wonders once again how he got to this point.

Well, no. That is a lie. He knows exactly how he got to his point.

He glances over his shoulder where the other four at hiding off to the side. Out of view from the doorway but still visable for Horror if he looks just right. Seems like Dust won the discussion, again, and is holding Nightmare, again.

Horror wants to say it is surprising how quickly they all just... accepted the situation they got into but he really isn't. Monsters are weird like that. Forced adoption is not that wild all things considered when you are talking about beings made of magic and emotions.

Horror stares at the door and raises his hand before knocking twice.

He really hadn't wanted to do this but they have no other choice. As he waits he can't help but think back to what made them decide this.

Cross walks from side to side "That was way to close! That was the third time we came across the Stars with Nightmare out. Third!"

Killer nods from where he is sitting wiht the sleeping Nightmare in his lap "Yeah no kidding. It is annoying as shit that they are hunting us."

Dust shrugs "Not surprising. Nightmare 'disappeared' after all. We are their only lead."

Killer grins "We were lucky Cross managed to lie his way out of the last one." and he shoots Cross a wink.

Cross sputters "I panicked!"

Killer grins and winks "Sure sure daddy crossy."

Horror holds up his hands between his two... co-parents "This is not the time. We need to figure out where we can go." and he thinks things over.

Cross sighs "I don't get how they keep finding us!"

Dust huffs as he packs their bags "We go to too little universes. Makes it easy for Ink and Dream to pick us out because they recognise us personally."

Killer frowns "Meaning. we need a big universe?" he taps his chin "But also mostly positive as we still don't know how obvious Nightmare would be otherwise."

Cross frowns "I think it will be fine. He can't feel the balance anymore right? And no one seems to have a reaction to him like they had before nor how people have a reaction to Dream's aura thing. Maybe with the corruption gone he really is just... ex-guardian now?"

Killer groans "I hope so. I am not a fan of child labor."

That is when it hits him. Horror sits up "I think I know a place."

All of them turn to him and he immediantly regrets saying anything. See? This is why he normally tries to limit what he says.

Either way. Here they are now and Horror prays this works. Please. They need one thing to work in their favor.

The door opens and a gasp "Horror! It has been ages! It is great to see you. How have you been?" Crop smiles at him.

Horror steels his nerves. Come on. Too much hangs on this moment "Hey Crop. Nice to see you. I am... okay. How are you?"

Crop frowns at him instantly "You sure? You don't sound okay. Trouble at home?"

Horror chuckles "Kinda? Not exactly. Euh... Can't go back to that place now?"

Crop frowns "Why? Need a place to stay? I got a spare room."

Okay yes! this is going great! just... gotta make sure he knows.

Horror nods "I do need a room. Not just for me though..." Crop starts to frown and Horror raises his hands "Just temporarily!"

Crop frowns "Did... something go wrong?"

Horror pauses and thinks this through once more. He trusts Crop. Crop has never been anything but kind even when Horror had been an ass. Even when he had to once drag Dust here to get healing before they could make the jump back home.

Horror looks to the side and he sees the others just beyond the treeline, hidden in shadows and waiting. Crop takes a look as well but he can't quite spot them. Crop looks back up at him.

Horror takes a deep breath "You need... to promise me, no not just promise you need to swear. That what you are about to learn will not leave this universe."

Crop frowns as he immediantly looks uncomfortable. It is the reaction a promise gets from most of them. But Crop also shoots him a considering look before he nods. He holds out a hand "I swear and promise I will not share the about to be giving information. UNLESS! It endangers anyone." and he waits.

Horror stares at the hand and thinks. That... That is fine right? That should be fine. Nightmare being a child doesn't endanger anyone. Only them and Nightmare. Horror nods and shakes the hand.

Crop nods and steps aside "Come inside. I bet you will be more comfortable explaining there." he glances at the forest "Do your... friends? Want to come in too?" a guess clearly. probably on multiple fronts.

Horror shakes his skull "Not yet. Need to know your answer and reaction first." He turns to the forest and makes a signal to wait a bit longer. He sees a thumbs up shot his way back. Probably Killer. He never bothered with the signals they had learned together.

Crop nods as he steps aside and Horror walks in, having to duck slightly for the door. The door closes behind him and Horror sees the small living room with fireplace.

Crop leads him to the kitchen "Lets talk there. I will get some tea."

A few minutes later they are both seated and with a cup of tea. Crop looks at him expectingly.

Horror takes a deep breath and takes out their most valuable resourch. The Dreamtale book. And places it on the table. Crop frowns at it before looking at Horror.

Horror nods to it "It will help explain... Very long story short... Nightmare was never an adult. He was a child with a magical shield of some type. That magic has ran out."

Crop stares at him for a moment, then he pulls the book closer and starts reading it. He pauses at the title before opening it.

And now he waits.

---------

Crop sits wiht his skull in his hands. Horror just sits across from him, with his empty cup of tea. Crop's own cup has grown cold a long time ago. Horror just waits for anymore questions but Crop hasn't said anyhting in the last ten minutes.

Horror looks back at the book and sees that Crop has turned the pages back to the one with the drawing of Nightmare's head being cracked open. The image makes a very clear show on how small Nightmare was compared to the ones attacking him.

Horror still thinks the book doesn't do it justice. Nightmare is much smaller in person than the picture makes him seem. The cracks had been much worse than the picture showed. But it is the closest they got.

Crop finally sighs and speaks. He doesn't look away from the picture "I don't... Know a lot about this whole... multiverse stuff. It isn't my place at all. And that is fine." he pauses for a moment "But this... You are telling me... That the one being that had everyone afraid. That everyone saw as a demon. Is a child... is this child?"

Horror nods before he explains more "Nightmare... gained a lot of magic and powers when he ate those apples. At least that is what the story implied. We haven't managed to get him to tell us yet, mostly because well... he is six again." Crops pulls a face as well, yeah. Horror agrees. A PTSD filled six year old is not easy. But they are managing.

Horror nods "so... What Cross nad Dust think what happened is that... The magic and negativity of the apples bond itself to Nightmare. Which game him the magic and powers he would use. The connection to the balance because the apples were part of the balance. and more importantly, an adult form and mind to fit all the magic. There was just no way all that magic and energy would have fit a babybones. Especially one that hadn't shown much magic beforehand." an assumption on their end as Nightmare was never said to use magic in the book.

"We think... We think that this magic of the apples just. ran out. We had been in battle at the time and Nightmare had been hit but it shouldn't have had that much of an effect. it was the same type of attack he had been hit by before. Dust thinks it was just the last bit of magic that the apples had having run out. Meaning that with the magic and energy so went the form." all a theory of course. But it is the only thing they have.

Crop nods as he clearly thinks "And as he was suddenly an adult. instead of just being afraid and scared. all that pain and emotions took a more violent turn. As he was an adult and was suddenly able to realise that it was unfair which made him angry..." Crop pauses.

Crop glares back at the table and shakes his skull "It is... It is a whole story about victim blaming. A victim is blamed for the abuse they suffered. They are made to believe they deserve it and should be abused. Then as soon as they fight back and defend themselves they are seen as guilty." Crop takes adeep breath as he leans back "What I don't get... Why come here? I can't help with any of this."

Horror shakes his skull "This isn't about any of the big stuff. We don't even care about it. We just... Nightmare is himself again. His real self." he taps the page lightly "Not his aged-up self that the corruption enabled him to be."

Crop stares before his face changes to shock "You are trying to hide him." Then a frown "Why not go to your own home? Has it been compromised?"

Horror snorts "At this point? probably." a confused look and Horror continues "Nightmare used his magic to shield off an universe and make a castle." he shrugs at the glance "Nightmare likes to read. I imagine he liked to read back then too. He may have been an adult technically but he was still a child at soul. Child him wanted a home and wanted that to be a castle and adult him made it happen... probably... that is Killer's theory at the moment."

Crop laughs and nods "Suonds reasonable- oh... and with his magic disappearing."

Horror sighs "When I left his universe the castle had already been decaying..."

Crop frowns "Left? The five of you you mean?"

Horror looks to the side and feels the shame return "We.... we did not react well... when we saw the changes at first... we... we obviously dind't know what was going on and well." he looks down "We abandoned him. I know it was wrong and stupid and we all regret it. We came back but we still did it." shame.

shame shame shame shame shame shame shame-

A hand on his shoulder. Horror glances up and Crop smiles at him "It is okay. You are trying to fix it now right? obviously. Not cool that you abandoned a child... but it can be nerve wrecking. Suddenly going from a position where a person is mostly guiding you, to going to a position where you suddenly are responsible over that same person."

Horror looks to the side "We still left." he can't believe they just left!

Crop nods "But you returned." he grins "And you are trying to fix it."

Horror nods again "We are..." he chuckles "Not that we have been doing a good job at it. Jumping from place to place."

Crop hums "So you are looking to settle, at least for a little bit, while also hidding. Why this universe?"

Horror nods "Yeah..." He looks to the side "We... we don't know how everyone will react. To him being like this. Maybe they will react well. Maybe not. We don't want to risk it. Risk him."

Crop stares at him for a long time and nods "There must be better places?"

Horror shakes his skull "The Stars kept finding us. Dust figured out we needed a big universe that leans towards positive. Yours is one of those. It is one of the wider and bigger ones. And overall leaning towards positive."

Crop frowns "It can't be the best one..."

Horror shrugs but continues "True... there are bigger and more positive ones. But those are busy. Many people. many places. Yours is quieter. more empty. Gives peace and room to work from."

Crop frowns as he taps his chin. He thinks deeply before sighing "You guys got any type of backstory we can use? The multiverse thing isn't a known thing here and the only reason my brother and I know is because you crash landed here."

Horror blinks "You will let us stay?"

Crop nods "Sure." and he grins "Can't kick out four parents with a babybones." and he gets up.

Horrro shakes his skull "That isn't... Well I mean technically." He knows that Killer has come close to killing quite a few people with how protective he has grown over Nightmare and that isn't even including the motherhenning of Cross nor the clinginess that Dust has.

Crop chuckles as he nods towards the stairs "The attic is messy and should be cleaned but can be used by you four, well five. There is an old bed and an old lounge chair up there." more thoughtful "How big is he exactly? we will need some clothes. Probably also get a healer to check him if he is developing okay after all those magical shenanigans."

Horror stares for a moment before smiling "Thank you... I know it is a lot."

Crop shrugs as he opens the linnen closet "Horror. Taking care of milking all the cows on your own is a lot. Having to fix your roof in the middle of a thunderstorm is a lot." He straightens his spine with blankets in his arms "Helping a friend and his friends who have somehow aqcuired a babybones, while strange, does not compare to either of those. Now get your friends out of those woods. They will make the animals nervous." he grins "I am excited to be one of the first ones to meet the real Nightmare."

Horror smiles as he packs his book and goes towards the door. "Thanks again Crop."

Crop waves it off as he moves the piles upstairs.

-------

Boom! and they are staying in FarmTale for now! Horror and Crop are homies and Dust is more of an acquaintance of Crop but it works. Aged-up Nightmare knew that Horror had an universe he liked to visit but never demanded details. *shrugs* Nightmare didn't see the point. as long as horror wasn't going to betray him what did it matter he didn't tell him?

Surprise Nightmare, this is your temporary home now. For a bit. or maybe longer? They are still figuring it out.

First part Prev Part Next part

[look-i-love-u]

Galladrabbles - Bones

This week's @galladrabbles inspired by @heymacy's prompt "bones".

It's the next part of my Gallavich Gate 3 series. You can read it: HERE

||||||||||||||||

“Fuck, I need a smoke now!” Mickey groans. Ian feels his cock twitch.

“Because your fictional character boned another fictional guy? That's sad, Mick,” he huffs.

“It’s fucking hot and you know it. The big burly guy with the heart of gold gave me head and then fucked me good. Let me enjoy the afterglow!”

Ian sighs. “Sure. Go ahead.” He hears a wet suck and a slow long breath and bites his lip. It is hot. And he's fully hard now.

“Too bad my elf can't ride your orc. It’d be hot.”

Fucking hell! He needs a wank.

Immediately.

[gridgirldrabbles]

You and Pierre takes your child for his/hers first vacation

You son had just turned 8 months old when the summer break rolled around and you could tell Pierre was in desperate need of a vacation. It was his first season with Alpine which had been stressful enough on its own, but add a newborn baby into the mix and it had been nothing short of chaos. That was why you’d booked a holiday just for the three of you in the Maldives, somewhere you wouldn’t be bothered by anyone and you could spend time bonding as a family.

Pierre could barely control his excitement about taking Gabriel on his first trip abroad, constantly talking about all the things you were going to do together. You wanted to remind him that your son could barely even hold his own head up yet, let alone go windsurfing, but he looked too cute while he was gushing so you didn’t want to spoil the fun. As soon as you stepped foot onto the sun soaked island you felt your entire body relax.

Gabriel had miraculously slept most of the flight and was just starting to wake up when Pierre was setting your bags down in the villa. He scooped him up gently into his arms from the carrier, ‘are you ready to go and have fun with papa?’ You secretly snuck a picture of the two of them, Pierre’s face radiating with absolute joy at the little smiling bundle in his arms. Once you had fed the baby and made sure he was covered in as much sun cream as humanly possible you made your way out to the beach, arms heavy with toys and snacks.

It took roughly two minutes before Pierre was begging you to let him take Gabriel in the water, even going as far as mimicking Gabriel ask you himself, making his chubby arms flail about as he screeched with laughter at his fathers antics. You could never say no to your boys so sent them off after putting just a touch more sun cream on them both. Pierre was up to his waist in the water, his arms keeping a firm grip on Gabriel as he splashed about in the gently waves, pointing at the small fish that would occasionally swim past. You sat contentedly on your beach towel, soaking up the sun while wondering how you got so lucky to have your life end up as perfect as it was.

‘I think someone is hungry.’ You must’ve gotten lost in your thoughts because Pierre’s voice brought you back to earth, Gabriel making grabby hands towards you. ‘Hi baby,’ you cooed, reaching up to take him from your husbands arms. ‘Did you have fun?’ You obviously didn’t get an answer from Gabriel who was too focused on filling his belly but Pierre could still answer, ‘I could never not have fun with my two best friends.’ He sat himself beside you before planting a wet kiss on your cheek that made you scrunch your face up. ‘I love you, thank you for planning this. I didn’t realise quite how much I needed it.’ You rest your head on his shoulder, your son still in your arms, ‘I could tell you needed a break. Plus, Gabriel and I wanted some one on one time with you, we miss you when you’re gone.’

Pierre’s heart skipped a beat. He knew how difficult it had been with him still attending races while you were left at home, not being able to go with him for obvious reasons. ‘Thank you for sticking by me, mon amour. I’m so glad we’re here.’ His lips pecked your forehead before he rested his head atop of yours. If the rest of the holiday was going to be this serene then there was no doubt he’d be well prepared for the second half of the season.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

hmmmmm maybe the answer to my merguru crisis was just to take breaks by writing other stuff…….. feels like i suddenly have a lot more motivation

[cuppajj]

[TF Mercy] No Longer Helpless

Kindred in their history, Fortress Maximus and Rung meet up to check in on each other's well being; but what was planned to be a simple conversation suddenly goes south, and the Autobot general suddenly finds himself in the midst of the hunter's abrupt and trauma-fueled panic attack.

[AN: So uhhh I ship Rung and Fortress Maximus in TF: Mercy >>;; it started out as a joke about them getting together because they went through some very similar stuff but then the joke turned out to have actual substance, one thing leads to another and here is my first fic for the game with them! It takes place after Reformed Predator, and hence has spoilers from the story. Just to be safe there are also spoilers for Space Adventure as well! If you haven't read Mercy's RP or SA Storylines then I encourage you to so you have better context of what's going on--but you can still enjoy it without nonetheless! Anyway without further ado!]

TF Mercy belongs to @emperor-kumquat​

-

    Fortress Maximus had arrived on time like he always did, knocking on Rung’s apartment door with a book in his servo. They had agreed to check in on each other, discussing their feelings, thoughts, and anything that had happened to them within the past two weeks. It had become an unofficial two-way therapy session, with a little amiable conversation about life thrown in, and the occasional book talk. As a librarian, Rung had given Maximus plenty of book recommendations, most revolving around the general’s flowering interest in nature and animals. Today, Maximus had finished his book on early cybertronian botanical practices, and was interested in returning it to Rung ahead of time. When Rung opened the door, the two greeted each other with friendly smiles, exchanging pleasantries as he let him in. A pair of energon glasses were already prepared for them, Maximus’s favorite blend, which carried a strong aroma. They sat on the coffee table, and the Autobot had helped himself to a sip as he managed to fit his massive frame on the couch.     He hadn’t said anything, but Maximus had noticed that Rung sounded gloomier, whenever they called each other. He insisted he was okay when he asked, blaming work or recent hunts for his troubles; but as much as Maximus wanted to leave it at that, he knew that Rung wouldn’t feel this way over work. He hoped to discuss it with him today, during their official unofficial session, when they were meant to divulge everything. He certainly hoped he wouldn’t come across as too nosy, especially if the reason was truly such a simple thing.     “Oh, I almost forgot our notes,” Rung had realized as he was about to take a seat next to the other. “I’ll be right back.”     “Take your time,” Maximus implored, setting his glass back down on the coffee table. Rung disappeared past the door to his habsuite, leaving both of them to their own thoughts.

    Thoughts that Maximus was unaware of, that had been in the back of Rung’s head for weeks. Every time he stepped into his room, he would pass Funeral, mounted on the wall. He hadn’t stopped to gaze at it lest he was pulling it off, but recently, he found himself staring at each intricate cut and scratch riddling its sleek gray metal, from the history of monster hunting that he would embark on. There were times when a sparkeater would round on him, claws and tendrils ready to scratch and stab relentlessly, and Gravemaker would use his gun to push them back, letting the weapon take the hits for him. He could fight back against the monsters he faced, capitulating not once even when all odds were stacked against him.     On any other day, Funeral’s battle scars would imbue within Rung a sense of pride.     Today was different. Today was when he interpreted those scars in a different way, when he saw something beyond all of the wear and tear. Yes, he could fight back now, but there was a time when he couldn’t.     Not when it mattered the most.     Not when he saw his old friend that day, or what was left of him.     As he neared his desk where his notes laid, he grit his dentae, attempting to shake the looming trepidation away. Now wasn’t the time to think about that. He was with Maximus, he had to stay calm for him! All of that could come later, when he had the right words to tell him. If he even wanted to, when he already had time and time before. Was it even worth it? No, no, but that was why they had sessions like these. Anything and everything could be said, no matter what it was or if it had been heard before. He knew, Max knew, so why was it so hard?     Then the thoughts, the memories, came back as fast as Rung had attempted to push them out. The helplessness that he once had, so long ago. He froze in place, inches away from his notes, head throbbing and optics agape. He pleaded for this to not happen to him, not now, not when the time was supposed to be lighthearted and sentimental; but he had pushed these emotions away for so long now, that his attempts to push even further were no longer possible. These memories, this new perspective of Funeral’s marks, were not new; he had harbored them for longer than Maximus had become aware of his sullen mood.     They were hungry, now; ready to tear at his mind and feast.     Like he’d been.

    Outside, Maximus had been playing with his digits, studying the simplistic living room around him as he patiently waited for Rung to return. He shifted a little in place, attempting to sit more comfortably on the couch, but he felt the legs scrape beneath him ever so slightly as his weight dragged them along with his frame. He pursed his lips and stopped immediately, resorting to pushing the coffee table a little further away from the couch so he could position himself closer to its edge. He was unaware of Rung’s condition in the other room until he suddenly heard the door slam open, and out with it scurried the smaller cybertronian. His quick and panicked breaths filled the room, telltale signs for the Autobot that something was terribly wrong.    “Rung!? Rung!” Maximus gasped, whipping his helm behind him. “What’s going on!?”    Confusion and shock grew exponentially as he watched Rung grip his chassis and helm, optics squeezing shut and blowing open at irregular paces. They gaped at nothing and everything all at once, seeming to lose sight of his own apartment, and Maximus along with it.

   Fog rolled into his mind, thick and humid like ghastly breath passing his face. Wherever he dared to turn to, he saw nothing but encroaching shadows and bitter isolation, with no one around to help--no one who cared enough, anyway. He swore he could hear Froid’s condemning voice just beyond the mist, but any desperate call fell short of his lips. He found that he couldn’t talk, or scream, or run, no matter how hard he tried. Not when the other voice told him to stop, to quiet, the familiar and horrendous form it belonged to stalking towards him, his giant servos outstretched and his glare piercing through the haze.

   “Rung!”

   Maximus planted one pede down as he stood half out of his seat, balling his fists as he watched--he didn’t want to think helplessly, no--he was only stunned. He’d seen Rung sad, he’d seen him cry too, when they had their moments; but he’d never seen him break down into a hyperventilating mess. The Autobot couldn’t figure out what to do, how to calm him down. He had to think, think of something!

   “H-h--”     Rung gripped his head, stumbling across the living room floor unevenly. In the midst of his hyperventilation, he accidentally bumped into the coffee table, causing the glasses to topple over and fall to the floor, shattering on impact.

    CRACK!

    Rung yelped at the noise, whirling around so violently that he lost his footing and crashed painfully onto the couch. The smell of freshly spilt energon nauseated him, mixing with the awful stench that doused him and the monstrosity in front of him. He could hear it now, feel it now, the snarling, the acidic drool dripping onto his orange plating, the hypnotic rays racking his processor over and over. Nothing stopped the ghoul from closing the space between them, malice and hunger in his eyes.    No! No!    “Rung!” Maximus cried. “Rung, please- you’re fine!”    Rung could only gasp and flinch helplessly as he felt the skeletal claws on him, the furious growling of the towering ghoul overhead growing louder and louder. Any desperate thought and attempt to flee was ripped from him, the power too great for him to resist. It was too much, the feeling of futility—all too familiar, dreadful all the same.    The ghoul’s optics bore into his own, drowning the front of his form in a sick purple light as the shadows behind him nipped and bit at his rattling frame, threatening to engulf him entirely. All Rung could see was his face, he could feel his breath on him, gnashed teeth parting for his long and dangerous tongue to flick out and drag along his tearful face…    He couldn’t be back.    He couldn’t be back!    He couldn’t—

   “Rung!“

   Instinctively, Maximus reached his massive servos out toward him in an attempt to still him, pacify him, but the sudden motion did nothing but cause the three-wheeler to sink backward, optics bulging wide as their pupils shrunk to mere pinpricks.    Suddenly, the ghoul was on him with an inescapable grip, teeth parting as far as they could as they lunged forward and-

   He gasped, “no-“

   Realizing what he’d done wrong a second too late, Maximus pulled back quickly, spark racing. He stood up and distanced himself from the other, hands raised in front of his chest. Red optics gaped woundedly down on Rung.    “I’m sorry,” Maximus uttered, shaken voice pleading for forgiveness. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”    Rung remained hunched, curled in on himself as his optics continued to struggle to read what was real in that moment. The ghoul’s hulking frame had slinked away so suddenly, peering at him through the thick fog that enshrouded him. The lone purple optic remained fixated on him, finials outstretched, ready to move at a second’s notice—then, another voice broke through into his ears, a stark contrast from the ugly noise grating at him.

   A voice, soft and deep, hurt…    Max?

   Rung blinked as the new voice began to lift the fog and shadows away, the hisses and breaths retreating with them. His optics struggled to register, the silhouette of the ghoul shifting and changing, before the light drowned it out. Optics once purple were now red, brown plating now blue. Gradually, the smaller bot returned to his senses, his quick and heavy breaths slowing down. However, the aftershock of the episode kept his frame trembling.    Maximus found his own breaths slowing down, recognizing that the distance had helped. With softened optics, he inhaled deeply before whispering, “I’m here.”

   Tears streaked down Rung’s cheeks, the gravity of the situation now aware to him. His horror turned to sorrow, and his grip on the armrest loosened.    “Max,” he whimpered, “I…”    Maximus took one step closer, and after gauging his response, slowly approached his side once more. His servos fell to his sides. Rung thankfully didn’t flinch or curl further into the corner of the couch, instead sitting back upright. With his optics on his pedes, he slouched and hid his servos between his legs. His lips quivered and his breath continued to tremble. Maximus finally sat back down next to him, eyeing him with deep concern. He extended a digit to him, which the other took and squeezed on.    “I didn’t mean to,” Rung moaned. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…”    “Ssh, it’s alright. It’s alright,” uttered Maximus. “Let’s calm down. Let’s calm down, okay?”    Rung echoed his words, nodding quickly and wiping the tears from his optics, but still they continued to fall. He began to breathe slowly and audibly, as deep as he could, and kept the pressure on Maximus’s digit the whole time. He could gauge how badly he shook through his servo, and over time, it slowed in pace. Minutes would pass until the gray bot was finally still. When he was, he opened his optics once more, tears now dripping lightly down his cheeks. He stared at the thin air in front of him, riddled with the same thoughts nonetheless.    Maximus spoke first.    “It was them, wasn’t it?”    After a moment, Rung nodded.    “Yes.”

   He didn’t see Maximus’s gaze darken with the recollection of what he had heard from him of his oldest friends. Rung had trusted him enough to divulge everything that had happened, from their softest moments to the moments where he believed he would die. The betrayal hit too close to home for Maximus, even if the connotations were different; Rung’s sparkbreak was closer than his. Rung saw them as friends, potentially even more than that, for one or both of them. And for them to turn against him… Rung always discouraged his brasher ideas, but even so, they were still there.    But now wasn’t the time to dwell upon his pointed anger; he had something more important to concern himself with.    Maximus’s expression relaxed, and he angled his frame to face Rung, so he could better look at him. He found that Rung did the same, turning from the emptiness of the room to him, though he still didn’t look up. He let go of Maximus’s digit, which fell back to his side, and took a long, tired breath. The other frowned, squeezing his palm lightly before one of his servos rose.

   With servos so huge, capable of crushing the smaller cybertronian’s helm within their grasp, Maximus paid extra attention to the way he reached up to hold it with the utmost care. The sides of his fingers met Rung’s jaw as his thumb reached up to wipe the tears away from his cheek, Rung’s optics closing and frame relaxing at his touch. A shaky sigh left him, and before Maximus’s servo lowered, his own servo lifted to rest atop it, stopping it in place as it cupped the side of his helm.    “It’s been… so long,” uttered Rung, helm leaning into the other’s servo, “since all of that happened. I know it was a traumatic experience for me, but I feel as if I should be past it by now.”    His optics opened to gaze into Maximus’s, the red optics of one who knew what he meant more than most. When he vented to the general of his woes, all the rigidity he was notorious for would disappear, replaced with the understanding features only one who suffered similarly could have. This was no different. Even stronger, perhaps, as Rung had never broken down in front of him like this. Maximus understood him, he could see it in his face; yet he could also see the sorrow and concern behind it.    The giant shook his head.    “It changed your life,” he breathed. “He did. They did, after you trusted them and cared for them for so long. That kind of betrayal wouldn’t leave anyone easily.”    “It’s not just that it was… betrayal,” Rung winced, as if the word was difficult to fathom. “Max, I tried to run. I tried to do the right thing for everyone. And they dragged me back… he kept me there, and- Max, it was torture. I was trapped in there, struggling to survive all because- because-”    Maximus heard Rung’s voice tensing up once more, and he hushed him gently. “You don’t have to talk about it anymore. You’ve had enough for now.”    Rung’s silence agreed, the slow nods brushing up and down Maximus’s palm. His optics closed once more, and he squeezed down on his giant servo.    “To have someone you care about, who cares for you just as much…” Maximus thought with a low voice. “...I know. And I know you know that, Rung. And things like that won’t leave overnight, as I was saying… but the least we can do is find any and every way to speed the whole thing up, I think.”    Rung continued to nod. The general’s words, complimented by his deep and soft voice, helped put him at ease. In his current state, he could simply listen to him go on and on, until the reverberating tone lulled him to a calming sleep… but to admit it now, he wasn’t sure if it was ideal.    “You’re right,” he murmured. “I just hope it’s sooner than later.”    “It will be,” promised Maximus.

   The three wheeler’s lips pulled back into a small smile. To Maximus, it was all he needed to know that his words had reached his spark, clearing the last of the dread that had choked him to tears.    Rung couldn’t see the ghoul anymore. No more shadows gripped him, the hisses had been silenced, and the biting cold that racked his frame had been replaced with the warmth of his gratitude for Maximus’s company.    Gratitude, among things he was still struggling to wrap his helm around.    He truly did care about Maximus, and he knew that Maximus cared about him the same… yet that thought carried such caution, pressure, and history, that it made him hesitant to truly accept it even though he wanted to. Maybe--no, definitely--because of what had happened to him; and even though Maximus understood, a part of Rung nagged on and on that he couldn’t say everything he wanted to.    He hoped that would change someday    Maximus’s words echoed, it will.    He held them close to his spark.

   “Thank you,” Rung hummed, and the two finally lowered their servos. “I am truly sorry you had to see that. I suppose I’ve had some bottled up feelings over the past few days…”    “I’ll always help you out,” Maximus assured. “Please, tell me next time. Bottling things up isn’t good for you, you hear?”    Rung’s optics fell to the side, and he smiled. “Yes, you’d know that, wouldn’t you? Always exuding your emotions like so…”    He looked back up right as the telltale blush met Maximus’s cheeks, and just as fast, the other averted his gaze. “‘Exuding my emotions’ helps. For me at least,” he smiled sheepishly. “You should try it sometime.”    The two fell silent after their exchange of warm smiles. As Maximus sat next to Rung, the other began to observe the state of the room with renewed clarity. Noticing the two energon glasses spilling their contents across the floor, his smile wavered, a silent “oh” falling shamefully under his breath. He knew he didn’t mean to, but he’d prepared them for them to enjoy together as they talked about all of the-    “Rung, it’s okay,” Maximus said suddenly, reading his thoughts from his frown alone. “We can prepare more later.”    “But shouldn’t we do that before we talk?” Rung blinked back at him, bewildered. “I don’t mean to get up so suddenly, but I should clean that up and prepare us more- ah--”

   Strong servos enveloped his thin gray frame, pulling him delicately forward as he let out a soft gasp. Maximus adjusted himself and leaned backward on the couch, kicking one leg up onto the as the other slid over the edge to plant itself on the ground and balance his massive frame. Rung was hoisted up to sprawl atop Maximus’s chassis, and his awestruck expression, he didn’t resist at all. Heat quickly built up in his frame as the giant finally relaxed his servos, keeping them in a blanket across his torso. They eyed each other, and Rung could see the blush across Maximus’s face. He wasn’t used to doing this, picking him up and laying him against him. It was very… forward? Intimate? Words that made his blush deepen, but his gaze remained focused on Rung despite his swirling bashfulness. Part of him hoped Rung wouldn’t take it so intensely.    “We’re already talking,” he spoke, their closeness bringing his voice to a hum.    “Max…” Rung released a breath he hadn’t known he was holding.    “The drinks aren’t as important,” replied the other.    Rung wanted to protest, insisting that complimentary drinks were courteous and deserving for both of them, but he was aware of how his entire frame relaxed in Maximus’s embrace. Maximus didn’t want him to get up, and something told Rung that his tiny frame didn’t want to either.

   Oh.

   His head flicked left, then right, searching for any spot to obscure the blush building up in his cheeks. He ultimately folded his arms in front of him and hid part of his face in them, covering all but his glimmering optics, and to his misfortune, the blue hue that surrounded them. His optics remained glued below him--which didn’t help as much as he wanted to, considering he was now staring into Maximus’s chassis. He emitted a short unintelligible mumble, shifting in place. Even though Maximus hadn’t said anything, Rung was predicting what words would come next: “This isn’t about them, it’s about you.” “You and I matter more than that.” “Let’s just have this moment between us.”    But Maximus didn’t feel the need to say any of those, as he read Rung’s body language. As the three-wheeler shyly tucked himself into his chest, he knew what he meant.    “You don’t have to see them ever again,” Maximus said instead, alluding to the subject of Rung’s distress. He squeezed down on him, as tightly as he could with his restrained strength for the other’s comfort. “You’re in a better place now. It’s what you deserve.”    Rung bit his lip, legs curling into himself. Those two were his… no, Maximus was right. He never doubted that. If his new perspective meant that his memories of the past would be interlaid with bitterness and pain, then so be it. It was the past. He could make new memories today and tomorrow.    And Maximus, he could help. They could make them together.    “Thank you,” Rung’s stiffness eased, helm rising from his arms to smile gratefully up at him. Hope glimmered in his optics, which Maximus noticed. He wouldn’t admit it then, but he loved to see that gleam of his, every time…    “Of course,” Maximus’s optics lidded. “And I’m here for you. You’re here for me, after all.”    We have each other, he almost said, but those words were too much for him and his already blue face.    Rung hummed, “yes…”

   Perhaps they didn’t need to talk through anything today anymore. The company of the other was enough, the consoling words and equally soft and sympathetic voices the cures for the dread that plagued them.    Rung uncurled his limbs, slowly splaying them into a more comfortable position to relax atop Maximus’s broad frame. He rested the side of his helm into his chassis, hearing the faint hum of his spark underneath his tough plating. It was funny, how it was usually him who’d lay against him to his surprise. Maximus was the one to surprise him this time, picking him up and holding him here… he’d be too shy for that. Though maybe he still was, if his facial expression said anything. He was too familiar with it, the cute flush on one so infamous for his scowls…    “Could we stay like this for a little longer?” Rung wished to ask, but he listened to Maximus’s slow and deep breaths, and noticed his optics were closed to allow himself to savor the moment.    He did the same.    It seemed like he didn’t have to ask, when the answer was already yes…    The drinks could wait.