#gender band

[vilevenom]

Are you the same Anon as the other hurt/comfort request? lol, it's all good if you are. I'm makin' this one a bit more fluffy <3 Here's some sick!fic for you. Once again, I don't headcanon the trolls caring about gender, but I still swapped the pronouns for you. This ficlet has nothing to do with the previous one. This is set post World Tour, but before Band Together. Enjoy!

It was odd for Branch not to see Poppy at the crack of dawn. Usually their chipper king was the first up and about in the morning, leading the village in their daily song and dance routine. But, this morning Branch had bounced out of her bunker to join in the song without her usual duet partner. She frowned as she walked through the village, looking high and low for Poppy, while giving half hearted greetings to the other trolls as she passed them by. She didn't want to ask anyone if they'd seen their king, as she could still vividly remember how most of the village had freaked out the last time he'd been sick. 'Poppy 911' was not a phrase she wanted to hear again anytime soon. Finally, she decided the only logical place Poppy could be was his pod. "Hello?" Branch asked as she knocked on the door, peeking inside as she did so, "Poppy? "Ugh," Poppy's voice groaned from his bed, an arm appearing from the pile of blankets to wave at Branch, "I'm here. I'll be up in, like, five minutes." Branch frowned lightly as she let herself into the pod, shutting the door quietly before moving across the pod to Poppy's bed. "Hey, sleepy head. You don't sound great. How're you feeling?" Poppy sat up, his eyes half closed and his hair wildly disheveled. Branch flinched back slightly as Poppy snuffled loudly before coughing into his elbow. "M'not feeling too great, if I'm being honest," Poppy sighed, rubbing at his right eye as he turned to look at Branch, "How late is it?" "You missed the morning song, but I don't think anyone thought too much about it. When I walked through town to get here, everyone just seemed to be going about their day. I didn't raise any alarm bells on my way, so no one else knows you're sick yet," Branch hummed, reaching across the bed to feel Poppy's forehead. The pink troll leaned into Branch's hand with a soft sigh. "You're nice and cool," Poppy hummed, even as Branch winced and pulled her hand away. "And you're burning up," she murmured, clicking her tongue with a shake of her head. "I'm going to go get some supplies from my bunker. You just rest, okay? I'll be back as quick as I can." "Nooo," Poppy whined, flopping back into his pillows. Branch chuckled. "Yeeesss," she echoed Poppy's tone, heading out the door, "Be right back." ~ When Branch returned, she came baring soup, juice, medicine, and books. She quickly cleaned off Poppy's bedside table, setting up the medicine and books there, before bustling about Poppy's kitchen to heat up a bowl of the soup she'd brought. "Here," she coaxed Poppy to sit up in bed, pressing a glass of juice into his hand, "it's orange juice. Lots of good stuff to help you feel better. Then you need to try and eat some soup, okay?" Poppy grumbled quietly, but drank half the glass of juice. "Good," Branch cooed, snagging the medicine from the table and pouring a dose into a spoon for Poppy, "Now, take this and drink the rest of the juice." "Ugh," Poppy grunted, scrunching his nose at the spoon, "That stuffs nasty." "That may be true, but it'll help make you feel better. You can drown the flavor out with the juice. Trust your nurse," Branch said with a soft smile, earning a wheezing laugh from Poppy. "Alright, alright," Poppy sighed, reluctantly taking the spoon full of medicine. He made a retching sound after swallowing, then quickly gulped down the rest of the juice. "Good boy," Branch laughed, taking the glass and spoon away. "Only you get to call me that," Poppy grumbled, flopping back into his pillows while half heartedly glaring at Branch.

Branch snorted, rolling her eyes as she went back to the kitchen to fetch the bowl of soup. "I guess it's a good thing I was the one that said it, huh?" "Mmm, yeah," Poppy sighed, groaning in protest as Branch made him sit up again. "C'mon," Branch sat on the bed with the bowl in hand, smiling in the face of Poppy's grumpy frown, "I'll feed it to you. How's that sound?" Poppy blinked, his cheeks darkening further than his fever had made them. "O-oh. Okay," he nodded, not making eye contact as Branch spoon fed him the soup until the bowl was nearly empty. "There we go," Branch cooed, setting the bowl aside on the side table.

"Now, scoot over."

"Huh?" Poppy said intelligently as Branch shoved at his hip and stole one of his pillows.

"I said, scoot over," Branch reiterated, poking Poppy in the side, making the pink troll giggle and curl to the side. Poppy then shifted until he was on one side of the bed, instead of in the middle. He watched curiously as Branch set up the stolen pillow and shuffled the blankets around until she was comfortably settled next to Poppy on the bed.

"What're you doing?"

Branch blinked, arching an eyebrow at Poppy. "I'm getting comfortable."

It was Poppy's turn to roll his eyes. "I can see that. I meant, why, though? I thought you'd want to get back to your bunker. You're usually really busy."

Branch stared Poppy down for a minute before letting out a light laugh. She reached out to cup Poppy's cheek, brushing her thumb just below his eye. "Yeah, usually. But, you're more important than any chores I had to do today. I'd rather stay here and look after you."

Poppy let out a dopey little trill of a laugh, leaning into Branch's hand. "Awww. You like meeee," he cooed in a sing-song voice, batting his eyelashes at Branch.

"Oh my troll," Branch snorted, patting Poppy's cheek before settling back into the pillows, plucking one of the books she'd brough off the bedside table, "Someone has to."

"Everyone likes me, but you liiiiiike meeee," Poppy said with a grin, moving to cuddle into Branch, settling his head on her stomach and wrapping his arm around her middle.

Branch flushed, a warm smile on her face as Poppy curled around her like a snuggle squid. "Some might even say I love you, you big goof ball."

"Mmmm, you loooove meee," Poppy echoed, obviously falling asleep.

"Yeah. I do," Branch sighed happily, absently combing her fingers through Poppy's hair as she turned to her book, Poppy's light snores sounding from her lap.

[millionmaggots]

kinda insane how a cis man's oc fucking OBLITERATED my hip/thigh dysphoria lol

like im so serious the "aw shit i look like a woman :(" to "oh sweet im built like copia :0!!" pipeline is real as hell and vry therapeutic

[gxnderghoul]

i love swiss ghoul bc he's rly just a ghoul and his tambourine against the world

[emmyrosee]

Cold breath puffs out past his lips as he picks up the pay phone, slips in a quarter and dials your familiar number. Atsumu rarely calls you on his cellphone anymore, out of fear one of the times he does, you’ll block him clean from your life.

The dial tone hums three times before you show mercy and pick up the phone, interrupting the deafening line. He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, smiling softly as your voice, unsuspecting and calm, eases over the line.

“Hello?”

“Hey, baby…”

You’re silent, the only thing giving you away is the way your breathing seems to rag out, rasping softly as it passes through your teeth, a hurt you seem to try to fight back.

“Atsumu?”

The way his throat catches at the sound of his name on your voice has him completely caught off guard; aside from the fact that he hasn’t heard it in months, let alone his actual name on your tongue, just to hear your voice again makes him choke up.

“Yeah. Yeah, hey, it’s me,” he rambles, leaning against the wall of the restaurant he’s calling you at. He closes his jacket tighter around his torso, wondering if it’s warmer in your neck of the woods.

The ones he abandoned you at.

You were familiar. He needed the sense of familiarity as he travels, using you as a means to stay grounded after he abandoned you so promptly. Even right now, this wasn’t meant to destroy you, tear down the walls you’d spent years trying to mend, it was to seek comfort in you- selfish? Perhaps. But he is selfish.

He wished he could be like his brother, content with staying in one place and taking in every day with ease. But Atsumu has never been like his brother, growing far too stir crazy at the mere idea his roots might be planted somewhere, keeping him there for eternity. He doesn’t like feeling trapped, he hates it, even if feeling trapped meant he could be his happiest.

What Atsumu didn’t expect though, was for his roots to be you, the one thing he can’t sever himself from. You’re his drug of choice, his intoxication he can’t get sober from, and fuck, how he craves you.

“I’m… I’m thinking of coming back home.”

“Why?”

The way you snap at him your quick, firm answer makes his skin crawl. He’d been hoping, like a selfish idiot, that you’d somehow be excited for his return, like you had been every time he’d come home: you’d run into his arms like a missing piece, trusting him to catch you as you fall against his chest, your nose would bury into the dip of his neck while he cradles you close, kissing wherever his lips could reach and just for a moment, you both could pretend that this was normal. You’d meant to do this. Be apart for so long it tears you both inside, only for your reunion to be filled with joy and happy tears.

That this was normal, per se.

He thunks his head against the wall, sending a sharp pain through his skull, but he pays it minimal mind as he tries to conjure an argument to not make you hate him more than you already do.

“I want to see you,” he finally confesses. “I… I don’t know when I’m coming home, but it’ll be soon, okay?” He asks. When you say nothing, he closes his eyes, “can I see you?”

“You’re all talk,” you snarl, but he hears the tears in your voice. “You’re not coming home to stay, you’re coming home to get a morsel of attention and praise, then leave me again. I know that.”

He screws his eyes shut as you so clearly, so hurt, list the events that repeat every time he comes home. He wants to blame his success, chasing a high he can’t seem to find anymore, but he can. It’s a high with you, a thrill he gets when he sees your eyes glimmer with excited tears, an unparalleled sense of peace when you’re in his arms, one no person, place, or thing has been able to come close to.

But you… you were different. He loves you.

And Atsumu Miya is a runner.

“You should just keep playing house with one of your little friends that you make on the road,” you laugh cruelly. “Since they’re able to keep you much, much happier than I’ve ever been able to, clearly.”

“Hey, you wanna play the bigger person here? I never do shit with anyone when I’m out on the road, I’m loyal to you, okay?”

“My. Hero,” you spit from your gritted teeth. “You want a medal for doing below the bare minimum? Leaving me for months on end and coming back when you see fit, only to tell me you ‘stay loyal?’ You’re not loyal. You’re a coward.”

His heart breaks.

Coward. That’s what he is. He’s a coward, running from a life of comfort and stability to chase a high that he can only get in his dreams, a high that does not exist.

The closest he has, is you. And you don’t want him anymore. Rightfully so, Atsumu will give you that. But the idea, the mere concept of you not wanting him anymore sends him into a panic.

No, he thinks to himself, you’re bluffing, you’re all talk too, and the second you see him, your reserve will crumble and your heart will soften and you’ll love him again. You’ll plead for him to stay, to be with you forever, because you can make this work together.

He hopes that this time, he’ll love you enough to stay, too. He doesn’t bet on it, and the idea stings his eyes with tears. He screws them shut in agony. His root will only be severed when you do it. He hopes you do it mercifully. He hopes you’ll do it this time he comes home, setting you both free from the dance you’ve entangled yourselves in.

“I… I know im all talk,” he chokes, leaning his forehead against the brick of the wall he’s talking against. “But I… I know that we’ll be together soon. I’ll come home, and we’ll work it out this time. I swear.”

He sinks his teeth into his lip to try and fight back the sob that wants to break through. You hang up the phone, leaving only the dial tone to ring in his ear.

He smiles despite the tears welling in his eyes.

“I can’t wait until then.”

-

@reverie-starlight heres that angst I was teasing… 😬

[buttl0rd]

CRIMSONDAWN.

[attyrocious]

band auditions

[ghulehunknown]

Undressing Papa Backstage,

A Drabble - Dom Copia x GN Reader

Warning - adult themes ahead!

NSFW below!

Tags: blowjob, unprotected penetrative sex, dom Copia

Word Count: 1.3K

Just imagine undressing him after a show backstage. He’s sweaty and he’s just told the audience to go fuck themselves, and he has similar plans in mind. You watch as he takes the final bow. His brow is glistening with beads of sweat, and his hair is a little damp. There’s a hunger in his gaze, his bottom lip falling slightly open as the lights go out.

Performing has him especially riled up this evening. He’s already pitching a tent in his painfully tight jeans by the time he turns to go backstage. And he wasn’t kidding about that violent shower. You had always wondered what exactly he meant, and envisioned him painting the walls in his ecstasy and making a mess of himself only to wash it down the drain.

And where was the fun in that, imagining? And what was the fun in doing it solo the whole tour, Copia wondered as well. You got to know him pretty well, in the quick changes in between songs. Small chatter, but mostly silence as you focused on your task at hand. But all the touches, feeling his body as you put his robes on and took them off, carefully smoothing his hair each time… it built something inside of you. And you think it did for him too.

“Excellent job, Papa,” you remark as he runs backstage again for the final time of the night. He’s out of breath and chugs the water bottle you hand him as you start to take his red jacket off one arm at a time.

“Mm-!” he mumbles while drinking. “Grazie, dear.” He’s still trying to catch his breath but slowly it returns to normal. “You eh, catch my line?”

Oh yes, of course you had. Since the start of tour you began keeping a tally of all the different ways he would tell the audience about fucking each other or themselves, and how he intended to do the same…

“Of course, Papa, I think the audience liked it,” you say with a smile as you hang up the red jacket for dry cleaning later on.

“And…what about you?” he says with a small smirk, looking at you as he begins to unbutton his shirt.

You blush. “I…” you begin, stepping forward to help him with his buttons as he fumbles around.

“You…?”

“Please, Papa…you’ve put me in a rather…precarious situation. I - I have a job to do, and I can’t be distracted. Don’t make me choose between what I want to do and what I have to do.” You look up at him, his shirt collar in your grasp. But you don’t sound convincing. Nor do you want to.

“I know tesoro, but you don’t have to worry about any of that. I want you. I’ve wanted you since they assigned you to me.” He’s touching your elbow now, gingerly brushing your arm with his thumb. “All this touching and no fucking, I can’t stand it.”

“Papa, I -” you start to say but before you can get the words out, he shoves you off him while undoing his pants in a hurry but tugs at it hopelessly just like the buttons on his shirt.

He curses in Italian and slumps his shoulders a bit, looking at you pathetically, giving up. “That was supposed to be seductive,” he said, frowning.

You can barely contain a smile. “This is why you need your wardrobe assistant,” you say, unlacing his pants and unbuttoning his shirt the rest of the way. Your fingertips brush his sternum, feeling the few coarse hairs sprinkled across his chest.

Your breath catches in your throat. You kneel down to start taking off his pants past his waist before you realize - of course, how could you forget? These jeans don’t leave much to the imagination, and he forgoes undergarments just to get them over his hips.

“Something the matter?” he asks, looking down at you and wondering why you paused.

You shake your head and continue, this time yanking the jeans halfway down his thighs in short tugs. The tight fabric combined with his sweat doesn’t allow much wiggle room.

Finally his erection springs forth, completely hard and in your face. Your hands trail up the back of his thighs, until you’re cupping his supple ass. You give his cheeks a squeeze, eliciting a little chuckle from him. You bring one hand to his front, grabbing his cock in your fist and tilting it upwards towards your mouth.

He sighs and grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls your head back. Then he spits directly onto his shaft, saliva pooling around your hand. You work him up in your grasp, his spit giving you allowance to glide your fist around him smoothly.

You lean forward until your lips touch his flushed tip. You part your lips and kiss it gently before taking him in your mouth and sinking down on him fully, until his tip hits the back of your throat. You can smell his natural body odor mixed with his cologne at his base. He tastes salty from all the built up perspiration.

“Fuuuck,” he groans, clutching onto your hair harder. His eyes are closed as he rocks his body against your mouth, feeling every part of his cock enrobed.

You gag at first, but his thrusts don’t wait for you to catch your breath. He’s using you for his own pleasure, like his own little fuck doll.

Before he finishes, he pulls you off him roughly by the hair. You choke and sputter as he utters a gruff command.

You nod and obey him when he says, “I want you bent over the vanity.”

You quickly clear the scattered mess of things on the surface - his face paints, makeup brushes, tissues, setlists, water bottles - as he comes up behind you and yanks your trousers down your hips. He throws them to the side once your legs are free.

He pushes you flat against the vanity, your head turned to the side and your cheek laying down flat. He kicks your legs apart so they make a wide V shape. You hear him spit again, then again, this time in his hand. He reaches down to your core, massaging his saliva like it’s lube at your entrance.

You both moan in sync as he pushes into you, and you feel the initial stretch. Oh fuck! You had thought of this moment so many times while alone backstage with him, but truthfully never even knew how big his cock was until now. You had an idea, sizing the bulge in his pants. But he usually put his pants on by himself before shows, and took them off himself afterwards on his way to the shower, so you never saw this part of him. You wince as your walls contract around him to accommodate his size.

“Ah - fuuckk, s-so good -” he murmurs, thrusting in and out of you.

You lay there atop the table, feeling him pound into you over and over. You moan every time he brushes up against your little sweet spot deep inside you.

“You like that, mm? My little assistant,” he growls in your ear, and as you look up into the mirror you see him smirking and looking into your eyes. He spanks your ass, leaving a red handprint.

You yelp as he bends your left arm behind your back, keeping a firm grip there to steady himself as he continues drilling into you. Your body bounces on the table as you watch both your faces contort in passion in the mirror. The hairspray bottle and his cologne are dangerously close to falling off the table.

“Fuck, I’m going to cum -” he says breathlessly, pulling out of you quickly. You peer up into the mirror again and see him looking down and just when you wonder - warm, thick liquid splashes all over you, painting your backside as he coaxes out his seed.

You lay there in a daze as he pulls some tissues from the box next to you, cleaning himself off and aimlessly cleaning you off too, though it’s more of a smear.

Then he says, “Undress. Get in the shower. We’re just getting started.”

[kawoid]

[foone]

So the earth's magnetic poles reverse periodically, about every half a million years on average. Magnetic north becomes geographic south, and vice versa.

And pink wasn't a "girl color" until the mid-20th century, and dresses were common for boys and girls until "breeching", the ceremonial occasion when the boy got his first trousers, until the early 20th/late 19th century.

Heels date back to the 10th century when they were solely worn by men, to the 17th and 18th centuries when it was both men and women, becoming specialized and different for each gender in the 19th, and becoming predominantly (but definitely not exclusively) female by the later years of the 20th.

Hell, even the term is gendered these days! You say "high heel" and the feminine-coded shoe us assumed, but it just means the shoe has a sloped sole. You know what shoes count as that? Cowboy boots. The official boots worn by the marines in the 20s were technically "high-heels", by the same definition.

Anyway my theory is that similar to the geomagnetic pole reversal, the genders clothing inverts periodically over time. And I think we're due for a swap, soon.

[hazelfoureyes]

Ok I need a Lucifer x Reader fic based on Griftwood by ghost pretty please ( just listen if you haven’t heard it you’ll understand)

Listen, I went the opposite direction I think you wanted? Lol gonna work on brevity and get more snack sized smut out on weekdays and entrees on he weekends

[Warnings/Promises: snack sized, Lucifer x GN!AngelReader, lil smut smut, Fuck Sera, Luci corrupts absolutely, all hail dat dick, sacrilegious as fuck]

🫸🏼minors DNI🫷🏼

Lucifer avoided the heavenly embassy for obvious reasons. The vast halls, the empty and useless pews, it was, in a word, 

“Creepy,” He hissed. 

He was surprised to find the reception desk manned. Very rarely did heaven actually send anyone down to hell. Oh, wait.

You were stunned already to see Lucifer, so when he poked your nose you let out a tiny squeal.

“Oh shit! You’re real!” Lucifer took a step back, “Sorry about that! Not used to an … actual person.” He gave a little bow, “Forgive me?”

The fact is no one wanted to go to hell for desk duty, so the job was actually a punishment reserved for the most misbehaved. You had to intentionally set fire to Sera’s robes to get that severe of a scolding. She was reluctant, but it had been threatened (promised) to you last time you (intentionally) caused trouble. Rumors were abuzz about Lucifer, and you just had to see for yourself what the Great Big Boss of Hell was like.

Rosey cheeks, bright sharp smile. He didn’t look as scary as you had imagined. You expected a seven foot eight inch tall behemoth with fire pouring from his mouth and blood stained horns.

The devil, the real one, looked quite sweet.

A tiny existential crisis washed over you. Maybe there was a reason they didn’t want people down here. Why they made it sound oh-so-terrible.

“You still in there?” He leaned over the counter, tapping at your forehead. Your hands flew up, capturing his finger and bringing it down.

Warm. 

He froze, a little shocked you would touch him. Your smile went crooked, cheeks blushed. 

“Uhhh you good?” He pointed with his free hand to where you still gripped his finger. You nodded, a hum of confirmation. The blush rose up until you were fully red in the face.

The realization struck Lucifer like heavenly lightning, “Oooh, I see what’s going on here.” A wicked smirk taking you by surprise. “Did you want to meet me, little one?”

You broke out into a sweat, “Yes.”

Lie! Why didn’t you lie?!

He leaned over the counter, “Did you do something bad to get sent here?” Was there fire behind his eyes?

Uneven breaths, “… yes.”

Lucifer’s knee came up and over as he crawled onto the desk, “Should the King of Hell reward you for such bad deeds?” His eyes had gone red now, your hand still on his finger.

Your knees began to shake, “Y-yes.”

His face was inches from yours when your legs gave out, both of you falling to the floor.

Horns tall, yellow pupils dilated as he straddled you. “I think you’ll find I’m a generous ruler.”

It made sense. As Lucifer bent you over the reception desk and fucked you from behind, you could completely understand why they made this job posting sound horrid. Heaven would be empty if every winner could freely interact with Lucifer. You’d damn humanity too, if that was the cost. His hips snapped against your ass with divine determination, sweet praises on his forked tongue. 

The sounds of your gasps and his skin on yours echoed through the pristine white and gold halls. Like a pastor giving his sermon, he made the most delicious promises as you bent at the altar. 

Could heaven hear you? Your chants of “God, Oh God,” shifting to, “Lucifer! Luci—fer”, when one of his hands came down, fingers stroking your heat?

“What do you pray for, my curious Angel?” He growled, a flame you couldn’t see licking past his lips. “I’ll grant you anything”

Your cheek was sliding across the marble, small line of drool smearing on your face. Claws raked down your back, the stimulation making you shake.

Your fingers reached for his thighs, failing to take purchase. Lucifer took both of your wrists in one hand and held them at the small of your back for leverage. Your legs bent up, toes curling as you came around his sweetly punishing cock.

Taking a few deep breaths, you rolled your hips back against him, “More.”

Lucifer laughed and lifted one foot onto the desk to add more force behind his thrusts, “Say please.”

am I too horny? No. No, the cardiologist is wrong.

╭──────༺♡̶༻──────╮ Masterlist ╰──────༺♡̶༻──────╯

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list): @cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , fizzled-phoenix , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @fjorjestertealeaf , @pansexual-opera-house , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @roxxie-wolf , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @phobophobular , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @surusurusuru , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum , @ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot

[bonesmarinated]

(this is my oc, Kristian, he just vibing)

[delulluart]

Bi King Copia! Because that man is not straight (or gay) and I will (politely) fight people saying otherwise

find the full version here 🌶

All Ghinktober 2024 drawings

[xeroxcage]

i personally identify as whatever the fuck this is

[it-happened-one-fic]

Gentle Care - Jade

Author Notes: So, this is another fanfic that has been sitting, collecting dust in my Google Docs for quite some time now. It is finally getting to see the light of day because I wanted to post a Jade fic (totally not because of any cards that recently came out on the Japanese server). I didn't really listen to anything specific while writing this, so I really can't say there is any specific inspiration for this fic either. As per usual, reader is gender neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Gender neutral reader/ sfw/ flirtation/ romance implied/ fluff

Word Count: 1393

When Azul had called to ask for your assistance in patching someone up, you hadn’t been surprised. 

First, you’d gotten very good at handling bandages and whatnot simply due to your numerous Overblot experiences. You always ended up with a myriad of bumps and scrapes after those.

Secondly, Floyd getting into a fight was hardly uncommon, so the idea of him being a little scraped up was hardly startling. 

Finally, Floyd was perpetually mercurial, and if he’d even implied that he’d sit still and let you bandage him without squirming around, then Azul would do what it took to get you to Octavinelle just to ensure Floyd didn’t cause him any more of a headache.

An added bonus was that Octavinelle had all the supplies you could ever dream of, so there wasn’t even any need for you to bring anything with you. In fact, Grim even stayed at Ramshackle, opting not to join you on your little jaunt to Octavinelle. Though he did make sure to put in a request that you bring home some food for him that had you rolling your eyes slightly as you slipped out the door.

Your only real concerns on the trip to the mirror chamber were whether or not the other person had survived the altercation and how exactly you were going to scold the injured eel, even though you knew perfectly well that your words would do little good to keep him from getting into yet another fight. 

Those thoughts vanished though when you stepped into the Mostro Lounge and found yourself greeted with an unexpected sight.

Jade, sitting there as calmly as ever despite the bruises and red scratch marks that were sprinkled across his person as he talked to his brother, who was currently crouched in front of him, “Yes, it seems they mistook me for you, Floyd. Handling them was an easy matter, but-”

Jade halted mid-sentence as he spotted you, his eyes widening briefly before his usual, carefully crafted smile appeared, “I wasn’t expecting you quite yet, Y/n. I do hope you didn't rush.”

It was those oh-so polite words that immediately sparked your ire, sending you striding forward and snatching the bandages off a nearby table as you did so. After all, that long red scratch on his arm looked particularly nasty.

“Do I want to know?” Your irritation was obvious to everyone present, but no one seemed terribly concerned. But, to be fair, you were already kneeling and inspecting the young man’s injuries.

Azul let out a sigh, stepping into the room and holding a stack of papers, “It seems that a group of juniors looking for a fight mistook Jade for Floyd.”

“It’s alright though, Shrimpy. Jade handled ‘em all perfectly well.” Despite Floyd’s reassurance, you were hardly pleased. Eying the tell-tale burn that affirmed that magic had indeed been used in the fight despite school rules.

You glanced up, immediately making eye contact with the injured young man who’d been sitting silently, with a slight smile on his face as he’d watched you this entire time. Almost as if he were gauging the situation before he said anything.

“So you got in a fight you could’ve avoided?” Your flat tone said everything, and Azul took it as a cue to leave. With a single motion, he signaled Floyd, and the two exited the space. Floyd linger long enough to cast a single glance that flickered between you and his brother over his shoulder before he disappeared into the kitchen.

Jade met your accusation with an easy calmness and no small degree of amusement, “I wouldn’t be so sure. That group seemed to have quite a bit of aggression towards my dorm and probably didn’t really care if it was me or Floyd.”

You remained silent as he continued, going about bandaging some of the worse scratches while he calmly spread burn cream on his arm, “And even if I had made them aware of my identity and they’d left, it would’ve simply meant my dear brother would be in my current position, and I couldn’t let that happen.”

You pressed a band-aid down with a bit more pressure than strictly necessary as your eyes found his, “Don’t play coy with me, Jade. You wanted to get in that fight.”

You had to curb your urge to roll your eyes at the innocent expression he gave you before you continued, “You’re far too smug to have not gotten your way.”

With those words, you stood, grabbing another band-aid and turning your attention to the scratch marks that were scattered across his face, “So who were they?”

He smiled, his sharp teeth flashing as he did so, “Three of them were beastmen. I personally thought the Diasomna fellow was stronger, though. But don’t worry, all of them are in far worse shape than me.”

You snorted in response to his all too smug response, your amused tone not matching your chiding words, “Don’t gloat.”

Despite yourself, you were smiling even as Jade spoke again, his tone getting gradually more amused, “It works for Floyd.”

Your gaze flickered over to his, your hands carefully placing the band-aid on his cheek as you frowned at him, “No, it doesn’t, and it won’t for you either. I treat you two the same way.”

You gently smoothed the too-tan fabric across his pale cheek, and he chuckled, “Surely you know better than to lie to me, my dear.”

Your movements stilled as his hand reached up and wrapped around one of yours, his gaze holding yours captive as he smiled like he’d won some sort of game, “You and I both know you treat me far differently than how you treat my brother.”

You tugged at your hand gently, and Jade let it go with ease even as his fingers carefully brushed the skin on his cheek where your hand had just been with a distinctly pleased expression, “Your gentle care for me proves it.”

You crossed your arms, shaking your head slightly as you frowned down at him, “Don’t tease. I might be helping you right now, but I will leave.”

He tilted his head, his expression shifting to a feigned mask of betrayed hurt, “And abandon me to the care of Azul and Floyd? You wouldn’t be so cruel.”

You rolled your eyes slightly at his dramatics but reached over and grabbed another band-aid, “I might. You never know when I’ll surprise you.”

A smile curved across his face as his gaze stayed locked on you even as you focused on one of the other scratches on his otherwise pristine skin, “Indeed, I never do….”

You hummed slightly as he trailed off, “Right, so you’d best watch it and not get hurt like this again. I might not take care of you next time.”

“Wouldn’t that mean playing favorites since you’ve kept on helping every time Floyd gets himself hurt?” He didn’t miss a beat, and you frowned at him, causing him to chuckle, “I won’t make any promises. I rather enjoy getting taken care of, you know.” 

You tapped him lightly on the shoulder in a faux slap, “Alright, that’s enough out of you.” You paused, turning to look over your shoulder as you called out to Azul and Floyd that you were done.

Jade tilted his head as you looked back his way, his smile still present as he looked up at you where you stood between his spraddled out legs from his seated position, “Leaving so soon? Floyd made dinner.”

You snorted lightly, shaking your head at his coaxing tone even as Floyd stepped out of the kitchen, “You staying for dinner, Shrimpy?”

You held Jade’s gaze as you felt a smile spread across your face, and, despite yourself, there was very little hesitation as you called back, “Sure! Sounds good!”

And once again, Jade’s smile was all too smug, but at this point that was nothing new. Especially since you knew perfectly well that if he, or Azul, or Floyd, got hurt again, you’d be back to take care of them once again, even though all of you knew it was hardly necessary.

And that was even taking into account that you did play favorites. But you weren’t about to admit that to Jade, and, judging from the smile on his face, he already knew anyway.

[ghost-host26]

Placing these all into one post for their anniversary

[twinsfawn]

HEATHER GABEL (HIDE) • SHOT BY MOURN THE LIVING