#i avoid trains like the plague because they always pull bullshit like this and you simply never know if you're gonna reach your destination

[rocksalt-and-pie]

im going to berlin on thursday to see the welcome to nightvale live show and I just found out that our universally beloved and admirably reliable public transit system has once again decided to go on a nationwide strike on THAT EXACT FUCKING DAY and I had to find out via some fucking pseudo destiel meme on tumblr of all places 🤡

[sashred]

Hey

Do you have any chenford fics that never made it on here or AO3? If yes, please share, cause you write them so damn beautifully and I can't get enough. Or if not, can you write a "chenford +multichapter angst"(desperately pleading)

Bless you

Hi! There is actually one thing I've never posted, and probably won't finish. Think...early season 2 cannon divergence where Tim reevaluates his relationship with Lucy after she left "those" things he said while thinking he was going to die of the plague out of her report. OF COURSE it's angsty, but this is prob all that will come of it. Might as well set it free lol.

Enjoy!

“So just like that, you’re giving up on me?  I break one small, stupid regulation to try and cover for you.  To protect you, and that’s it?  I’m suddenly not worth your time?” Lucy exclaimed, desperate for some kind of reaction from him.  Something other than the stoic façade, that demeaning roll of his eyes.

“Leave it, Boot.  I am not having this conversation with you.”  Tim shook his head, grimacing as he downed the last of his beer.

“Like hell you aren’t,” she yelled, ignoring the startled looks nearby customers were giving her.  “You won’t even look at me when we’re at the station, in roll call, and meanwhile the entire department is avoiding me like the plague.  Like I did something wrong.  Like I’m a problem.”

“They’ll get over it.”

“Yeah, but I won’t.”  Lucy pulled out the stool across from Tim and sat down.  She was hot with rage, anger.  It’d had been building since two days ago when he announced that Lopez was her new TO, that he was taking Jackson on as his boot, no questions asked.  No room for argument.  She wasn’t even exactly sure he did it because of how she left it out of her report – that he’d told her he would rather end things himself than go out like that poor bastard who’d died such a horrible death right in front of him. 

She might have made plenty of mistakes in her short time as a rookie, but that moment when he cornered her about it, when she lost her temper…was by far the angriest she’d ever seen him, and it made no sense.

She’d covered for him before, she knew about his problems with Isabel.  They bickered plenty, he was hard on her, and expected more from her than anyone else ever had, and yet there had always been a weird comfort in it.  A sense that he actually cared about how she did, about her training.  That he took it seriously.  Took her seriously.

And now?  He was treating her like she’d failed.  Like she was untrainable, that she wasn’t worth his precious time, and it made her damn furious.

“We’re done here,” he bit out, refusing to even look at her, digging bills out of his money clip as he stood.  “Thanks for ruining my night.”

“Ruining…what?  This sad little pity party you’re having?  Because that’s what it looks like.  Nursing a beer by yourself in a bar on a Wednesday night, alone, actively running away from the first person that talks to you?  Please.”

“Except this isn’t talking, Boot.  This is you attacking me and working your way towards getting your ass fired.”

 “Is that what you want?  Me gone?  Would that make life easier for you?  End up with a boot that doesn’t call you out on your bullshit?  Because I am not going to apologize for trying to talk to you like an actual human.  Just like I’m not going to apologize for covering for you.  Because it was the right thing to do, whether you accept that or not.”

“Move out of my way, Boot,” he closed his eyes, “before you end up saying something you’ll regret.”

“No…see I don’t think I’m going to respond to that anymore.”  Lucy crossed her arms and planted her feet.  “You lost the right to call me ‘boot’ when you gave up on me.  You want to ask me something, try using my actual name, Tim.”

“Would you stop saying – ” he huffed once, his words trailing off.  “Move, Chen,” he said again, his words tight, jaw tense as his pulse jumped out of his neck.  She was finally getting to him, and she couldn’t deny the small pleasure it gave her.  Lucy hated that this was what they were now, that she’d lost whatever progress they’d made in those months they spent together.  All over something that made no freaking sense.  She wanted to shake him, demand he just tell her every last thing that was going through his head, hound him until it made sense, because whatever was happening there, in that bar as he looked half-ready to toss her out of his way, she wondered if there was a way back from it at all.

She wondered just why in the hell it mattered so much.

“You really won’t talk to me?  I don’t deserve at least that much?” she said, softer this time.  She felt herself deflating, the stubborn set to his eyes and tense way he held himself all too familiar.  All too final.  She was the rock and he was the hard place, and a damn adamantium wall at that.

“Goodnight, Chen,” he said stiffly, walking quickly around her and out the door, the bell clanging harshly as it slammed shut behind him.

The anger rose again.  The hurt.  Lucy could never claim that she was at her most logical when she was upset, angry like that, and she wasn’t about to start, either.

“Yeah, you’re so not getting the last word,” she mumbled to herself, launching after him.  The door closed just as forcefully behind her as she jogged towards where his truck was parked, tucked into the back corner of the lot, the flickering streetlamp above barely illuminating his figure against it as he fought with his keys.

“Hey!” she shouted at him, the satisfying clink of his keys dropping to the pavement ringing out.  “I don’t care who you think you are, but there is absolutely no reason for you to be acting like this and I am not done with – ”

Lucy froze.  A foot between them, probably less.  Uncomfortably less.  His eyes were blazing, but anger wasn’t the right word.  There was something else in them as he stared down at her, something that scared the ever-loving hell out of her.

He didn’t even bend to pick up his keys, not that he would have had the room with how close she was.  His lips parted like he was going to say something, and she would have sworn his eyes softened fractionally.  Her stomach flipped, her heart was racing, and everything suddenly seemed exponentially more dangerous than they had only moments before. 

“Chen, I need to go,” he said lowly.  Licked his lips.  His eyes were darting across her face, drinking her in it seemed, and something finally clicked into place.

“Oh,” she answered softly, willing herself to back away from him and failing.  “I…yeah.  Yeah I guess you do.”  She crouched down, scooping his keys up, watching as his eyes followed her.  Widened as she rose slowly.  “Here.”

She shivered when his hand enveloped hers, taking the keys, holding her in place, his warmth seeping into her skin.

“I didn’t give up on you, Chen.  I just…I can’t be the one to get you there.  You’re better off with Lopez, trust me.”

“You’re wrong,” she responded flatly.  “And before you argue…I know she’s good at what she does, and I would learn plenty from her, but it’s not the same and you know it.  She won’t make me better like you do.”

“I think you’re underestimating her…”

“I know you’re underestimating yourself,” she cut him off.  “And me.”

“Chen – ”

“Lucy,” she cut him off, sighing heavily.  “My name is Lucy.  I’m not your boot, not a cop, not your trainee.  Not here.”

“You’re not getting it, Chen, you have to be.  This…us doing favors for each other, covering for each other…it can’t be like this.”

“Like what?  Like we’re human?” she scoffed.  “We’re not robots, Tim.  I’m not a robot.”

“And I’m not your TO anymore,” he said, voice raised again.  “Simple as that.”

She stepped closer, her neck craned as she stared him down, noting the half step he took backwards.  She curled her fingers, the moment of panic that crossed his gaze urging her on.  He didn’t need to be afraid of her, she didn’t want him afraid of her, but there was absolutely no denying the silent, deadly current running between them.  They’d both drown if she didn’t act, like find something better for them to lose themselves in.

“I know a place a little ways from here.  A real hole in the wall, cheap drinks and crappy food, but cops don’t frequent it.  You want to talk it over there?”

His eyes widened, mouth opening and closing as her words settled between them.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he finally managed, but the deer in headlights was fading.  Rolling into something darker, something that made her stomach clench and pulse quicken.

“Fine.  Then…we don’t have to talk.”

He was nodding, that dark gaze now traveling across her in a way that made her skin tingle.

“What’s it called?”

“The Red Baron.”

“I’ve heard of it,” he said.  “Over on the other side of town.  It’s a complete dive.”

“Yeah.  Nothing we’re used to going to.”  Or anyone they knew.  “Too much for you?”

That did it.  His eyes sparked at the challenge, his head tilting ever so slightly as he considered her.

“It’s not really…my thing,” he shook his head, but it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than her. 

“Not mine either.  But I think I’m willing to make an exception.  If you’re up for it.”

“You sure about this?” he asked, his voice low, tone softer than it had been.

“Yes,” she answered quickly, firmly.  “I’m sure.” 

“Fine.  I’ll meet you there.”

Lucy ordered a gin and tonic, and Tim ordered a whiskey, neat.  Sure, maybe hitting another bar wasn’t necessary, more a stall tactic than anything else, but she needed to be away from any prying eyes, and she needed that extra fortification to build her nerve.  Time to flick that switch in her brain.  She’d always thought Tim was attractive…hell it was a damn running joke in the precinct and everyone knew it.  And yeah…sometimes, late, late at night, and after a few glasses of wine, she could let her thoughts wander to less platonic situations between them, but this was the first time she felt such a visceral reaction to simply sitting beside him.

They didn’t talk.  Not when she came up and sat beside him at one of the spindly tables in the corner.  Not when she pressed the length of her leg against his and leaned into his solid warmth.  The waitress didn’t look twice at them as she took their drink orders and dropped a basket of stale pretzels in front of them, and there were enough people in there that she didn’t hover.  Lucy shivered when Tim brought his arm around her waist, his hand resting on her outer thigh, leaning his face into her hair, his lips at her ear as he breathed her in.

“So how are we playing this?”

“Playing what?” she asked, turning towards him.  His face…his damn lips were only inches away from hers.

“This,” he squeezed her thigh for effect, and she swallowed hard.

“Not playing, just…going with it.”

“What?  Like a one-time thing?  Scratching an itch?”

“You don’t have to make it sound so romantic,” she scoffed, and he squinted at her.

“So this bar is supposed to be romantic?  That’s what you’re looking for?  Because that’s not what – ”

He was talking entirely too much, the mood was slipping, and Lucy would be damned before she let her one chance to kiss him slip her by.  She didn’t have to move much for her lips to slide over his, stopping him mid-speech, relishing his surprised grunt – quickly followed by a soft sigh as she trapped his bottom lip between hers, his stubble rough under her palms.  They startled apart when the waitress clanked their glasses down, marginally louder than she needed to, and Lucy felt the blush rising in her cheeks as Tim cleared his throat.  He took a healthy swig of his drink before facing her again.

“So…it’s like that, then.”

Lucy paused with her glass poised at her lips.  “Like what?”

“You did say we don’t have to talk.”

“I’m…I’m sorry…” she said, placing her glass down and closing her eyes.  “Are you bothered by what I just did?”

“Not at all.  It was fine,” he shrugged, swirling the amber liquid in his glass.  “I guess I just figured, you being you, we needed to iron some things out first.”

She wasn’t sure what irked her more, the “you being you��� comment or that fact that he’d just called her kiss “fine.”  Either way, the possibilities the night had promised only moments before now seemed to be fading, and quickly.

“Wow,” she said aloud, moving her leg away from his.  “I guess we’re even, now.”

“What does that mean?” he asked, his tone affronted.  It wasn’t supposed to be like this.  He wasn’t supposed to be like this, and disappointment settled in her stomach like a lead plate.  What were they doing?  What had she done?

“I think I should go,” she said, the words bitter on her tongue.  She thought she’d read it in him so clearly…the want, and it had woken something up inside her too…and no she didn’t want to pick it apart and talk things over in that dingy bar, she wanted to jump his goddamned bones and go from there, but now…

He pulled back from her, his expression hard and closed-off.  Yeah, they were done, and Lucy could only hope she hadn’t just obliterated the last of what he thought of her.  It stung, she was embarrassed, and if she sat another damn minute beside him the real emotions were going to start flowing.  It wasn’t until she snatched her purse up that he seemed to think he should say something, but she wasn’t interested.

“Lucy just wait a minute – ”

She tossed a few bills on the table.  “Drinks on me.  Enjoy.”  He stood up so quickly he almost knocked the chair over, but no one paid them any mind.  Certainly not Lucy, until she almost ran smack into him as he blocked her path, much in the same way she’d done to him earlier.

“Would you stop for just a minute?” he hissed at her.  “Look I already said this isn’t my thing, okay?  I don’t know how to do this.  I thought we were here to talk first.  I – I don’t understand what you need from me.”

 “How about maybe not insult me right after I – ” she waved her hand, clamping her mouth shut, the word “kiss” still to foreign.  Too loaded.

“It surprised me.  Maybe I had a bad reaction but I’m struggling here.”

“Then why did you come?  If it’s such a struggle then why in the hell did you look at me like that in the parking lot?  Why did you abandon my training, me after everything we’ve gone through these past few months?”

“I didn’t…I didn’t abandon you, I was trying to protect –”

“Yourself,” she finished for him.  “Don’t act like it was anything else.”

“Excuse you,” he sneered, “but you have no idea what my reasons were – are.”

“Then why not actually try some basic communication and tell me,” she said back.  “That’s all I wanted was a goddamned reason and you couldn’t even give me – ”

Lucy stopped talking when he took a step towards her, his hand grasping her upper arm as she was forced to take a step backwards, and another, and another until they were both in the short, darkened hallway by the bathrooms and a supply room. Tim kicked an empty crate out of her way, the noise startling her just before her back met the wall and he crowded in on her, his hand still firm on her arm as he brough the other to her face, tilting her chin upwards.

“You want a reason?” he breathed against her lips, her head beginning to spin as the reality of what they were doing, about to do and where stirring her insides until her core and chest clenched together.  She was dizzy with it, the want, but she managed a shaky nod before he closed the remaining distance between then, his mouth overtaking hers. 

[inner-visionz]

Chapter 3

It's been a month since I've moved into Kong and things have been stagnant. 2D and I avoid each other like the plague. At first if we somehow ended up alone in the same room we'd just give eachother a small sad glance then separate without a word. The only time we hung out was when we were doing demos. We always had fun singing together but we wouldn't dare talk about anything other than small talk.

It made Murdoc and I closer though. We'd hang out in the studio to make changes to the demos or just bullshit around. We'd also hang out in each other's room and talk about our weird spiritual experiences. He started to teach me how to play bass, he was impressed with how quickly I caught on. One night he got so drunk that he spilled his heart about his awful childhood. Murdoc turned into my best friend.

Except he rudely reminded me that he's actually insane by kidnapping our new drummer, Russel Hobbs. FORTUNATELY, for Murdoc he liked the demos and decided to stay. Then he invited Paula to be our guitarist. I wasn't happy about it, but I never questioned it. We did get a demo called Ghost Train done though and it sounded pretty good.

Recently, 2D would come in the kitchen while I cooked and silently stand in the corner to see what I was making. However, I noticed he'd lose his balance more often, slur his words, and would forget things very easily. I started to suspect that he was misusing his pain meds. But I could never get a chance to talk to him about it.

He couldn't be in there longer than 3 minutes without Paula barging in. He'd immediately pretend to look around for whatever random item then leave with her.

I'm sitting at my desk listening to music and sketching as I always do when I have free time. Blue Monday by New Order came on when someone barges through my door and slams it closed. I jump up out of my chair to see a very devastated and pissed off 2D. His cheeks are red from constantly wiping his tear stained face. His eyes were also very puffy. I immediately turn off my radio to listen to whatever is wrong.

"Y/n..she and Murdoc", he can't finish his sentence before his bottom lip starts quivering and he begins sobbing again. I feel so bad for him I've never seen him act like this. But I also feel awkward because I don't know how he likes to be comforted.

I decide to do what I'd want. I carefully pull his hands away from his face and sit him on the bed. I sit beside him and slowly pull his head to my chest so he can refuse if he wants. He doesn't resist to this in fact he almost lunges for it. I lay down with him on top of me as he cries into my chest. He starts to hold me tight so I do the same back.

"It's okay, you can tell me whenever you can", I say reassuringly.

He takes a deep shaky breathe then sniffles. "She..cheated on me with Murdoc", he says with his voice still quivering.

"I'm so sorry 2D". I say softly in his ear.

2d stays silent and just holds me tighter. I take a deep breathe and relax more so I can enjoy his presence again. Before I moved in We'd always give eachother hugs and be platonically touchy, we never did this though. He feels so warm against me. I lay my hand on his head then start to play with his hair as I feel his soft, messy, blue locs go between my finger tips. His breathing starts to slow down so I unintentionally match my breathing with his. The sniffles slowly comes to a stop signaling that he's stopped crying.

He sighs, "I missed you so much y/n", He says breaking the silence.

"I missed you too, I think Sherbert missed you as well", I say trying to lighten the mood a bit.

He gives me a half chuckle, "Really? I think I missed the little bunny too", he sits up and gives me a small smile. I was so focused on consoling 2D that I'd forgotten how touch starved I am. I desperately want to pull him back to me to fill the whole in my chest of not having any type of physical affection in so long. I dont want to get attached to anyone that shows me the slightest bit of it though. So I smile back so he doesn't suspect anything is wrong.

He looks beside me and reaches his hand out to pat Sherbert on the head. I get a big grin on my face from seeing him do that.

"Ah, I missed seeing that grin", he sighs, "I'm sorry I avoided you, but I could tell you were doing the same".

"It's okay I understand", I say.

He frowns and his breathing starts to get faster, "No you dont", he stands up and starts to pace my room, "I avoided you because I was..I", He groans angerly, "She thought I was in love with you, she thought I was cheating or was going to cheat on her FOR YOU! She couldn't see that you're a guy, I'm not gay or bi! I think?", he shakes his head ignoring his own question, "I..I ignored you for her, I ignored my friend for her because I loved her and I wanted her to believe that. Then she does what she didn't want me to do!", he vents angerly with tears in his eyes.

I get up and go over to him and wipe his tears away with my thumbs. "It's okay I forgive you, I avoided you because..I didn't want her to force you to make a choice, I knew you'd pick her and I didn't want to lose my first best friend I made here".

He wipes his eyes to get rid of the last bit of tears and sighs, "Do you want to do something together? I don't care what we do just get me out of this building. We're over due to hangout anyway".

I beam with excitement. "I know the perfect place! You've been so deprived of my weirdness for so long you need a refresher", I say in a joking manner.

He smiles, "I wouldn't want it any other way".

I feel pink dust my cheeks at his comment. "Well go get dressed I'll be here getting ready myself", I tell him.

He nods and leaves my room. I turn my radio back on and go to my closet to scan for outfits. I rummage through all my shirts and settle on a Dracula t shirt, then grab a pair of black jeans with giant wholes in them. I get dressed and put on fishnets under my jeans. I attach two chains, one for each hip, onto my jeans. I grab my black platforms and quickly zip them up. Then I go to my mirror that I had propped up against the wall, it's also decorated with worms on a string, to start teasing up my hair to make it look very messy. I then put on my white foundation (if that's not your skin tone do your normal makeup) with smudged eyeliner. I put in my small vampire fang tooth caps before I put on my dark red lipstick. I put on my black leather trench coat and look at myself in the mirror.

I look creepy and dead, perfect. I grab my coffin backpack and turn off my radio before leaving my room to see if 2D is ready.

I go to his bedroom door and knock. I hear a soft come in so I open the door. I see 2D sitting on the bed in a plain white tee and jeans with black boots. He looks so hurt and lost that he doesn't look up at me.

"Buddy you're gonna stick out like a sore thumb", I say trying to brighten his mood.

He looks up at me and his eyes get wide, "Oh I'M the one that's gonna stick out?"

"Come with me you're getting a gothic make over", I smirk.

He smirks back at me and walks over. "I hope you plan on biting me with those in", he flirts.

"Can't believe I missed the flirting" I roll my eyes as I take him back to my room. We walk in and I tell him to sit on the bed while I get an outfit for him. I skip over to my closet and grab a plain black shirt with a pair of half black and red jeans that are too big on me without a belt.

"Okay get dressed", I say as I throw the clothes beside him. He looks them over and shrugs. I turn around while he changes then when he's done I look him up and down. "Hmm we need to do something with your hair", I say.

"My hair?"

"Yes, go sit in front of the mirror", I command in a light tone. He obliges so I get behind him and start to tease his hair up. I get the hairspray and warn him to close his eyes so I could spray. I glance in the mirror and see him looking at me through the mirror smiling. Once I'm done I stand up and admire my little goth creation.

2D stand up and looks at himself in the mirror, "I look ridiculous", he says bluntly.

"But you don't even have the cherry on top yet!" I exclaim. I grab my black leather jacket with spikes on the shoulders and hand it to him with a big grin. He takes it and puts it on.

"I guess it's a bit better, I still look like a dandy though", he says as he studies himself in the mirror.

"You could've told me no, I know it's not everyone's style", I say.

"It made you happy didn't it? I like that small things make you really happy, your grin is adorable". He says with a soft smile.

"Then you're gonna love where we're going", I smile back at him and grab his hand to lead him out of the room. We go to the living room and see Murdoc tending to his bloody, broken nose on the floor. Russel is sitting in the chair with his elbow on the arm rest supporting his head, with a very cross expression and Paula is sitting anxiously on the couch.

"Ah, y/n mind doing me a fav-", he notices 2D beside me and cuts himself off. "Nevermind".

"Oh I'm not doing shit for you for a while. However, you could earn 3 forgiveness points if you cough up your card and buy us drinks", I smirk.

He sighs and digs into his pocket to pull out his wallet and hand me his card. He tells me the pin then goes back to tending his wounds. "You're lucky I have a bit of a soft spot for you", he mumbles to himself, "Just don't put me in the negatives".

"2D I'm so sorry could you ever forgive me.." I hear Paula plead but her voice drops when she sees us holding hands. I forgot I still had a hold of his hand. Her face turns red and I swear I see her shake a bit. "I fucking knew it!"

I'm about to open my mouth but 2D says something before I do.

"Can we go now y/n?" He asks in an irritated voice. He completely ignores Paula and just keeps his eyes on me. I nod as I shove Murdoc's card in my pocket and lead him out of the building. There's a full moon out which lights our way in the darkness. The chill air hits my face which makes me shudder a little.

I can feel him start to shake so I squeeze his hand and trace circles with my thumbs. After my first time consoling him I learned he responds better to touch.

"You know, it kind of rubbed me the wrong way when you offered some forgiveness to Murdoc" he says.

"I'll be blunt with you, I put more of the blame on Paula but I'm absolutely not saying he's not to blame either. I just look at it as she was the one that let him in. Murdoc is a dick for not respecting a relationship and I'll always defend you on that and I'm not saying I'm not pissed at him myself. BOTH are to blame I just blame her more".

"I'm not exactly seeing your point here and right now I don't care to".

I shrug, "That's okay, I just wanted to explain myself so you wouldn't think that I'm being a cunt", I sigh as I think for a second, "Maybe it was a dick move on my part I'm really sorry".

He rolls his eyes, "You think?" He grumbles.

Okay he's getting cranky so I'll just stop talking for right now. I don't realize that we're still holding hands until I let go of him to grab my cigarettes and lighter from my coat pocket. I light a cigarette and watch the smoke go in all directions. I put everything back then shove my hand in my pocket while my right hand holds the cigarette.

This gives 2D the opportunity to light his own as I hear the flick of his lighter. I don't notice that he's looking at me because I'm too busy admiring how the cemetery looks in the moonlight. I look back to my right and see that 2D has his hand out. I look at it with a puzzled expression.

"Give me your hand back", he says. I switch my cigarette to my other hand and put my hand in his. "Just because I'm in a sour mood doesn't mean I want you to stop", he says as he takes a hit on his cigarette. He stops walking abruptly, making me stumble backwards because he has a hold of my hand. He pulls me closer to him and looks down at me.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you, I shouldn't have taken out some of my frustrations on you", he says softly.

"Don't worry about it, I understand besides you can take your frustrations out on his card", I smile.

He smiles, "Right, and what was his one rule again?"

"Oh something about definitely put it in the negatives because I deserve it", I laugh.

He laughs with me as we continue walking into town. We walk in comfortable silence on our way to our destination. We stop at the door and I turn to him.

"Are you ready to have fun, blow some dick bag's money, AND see me be a weirdo?"

"Ah you had me at watching you be a weirdo", he smirks.

"Amazing, what is it you redcoats say? Golly good carry on?" I joke.

He cringes so hard he shudders, "Disgusting, no on the East side we say howay mate let's go splashing out maybe we do a bit of snogging after", he smirks.

"I only understood one word of that but I'll agree", I say as we walk to the door.

"You just agreed to make out with me after we spend all of the money", he chuckles deeply.

My face turns bright red and gets hot but I just roll my eyes as we walk in.

"Welcome to your first goth club".

We're welcomed with loud music and almost everything is black except the red velvet couches in the lounge area and stools at the bar. It's decently busy here with other people dressed in a similar manner as us. It used to be the only place where I didn't feel like an outcast, but now Kong is also on that list.

I bring 2D to the bar and we sit beside each other. I tell the bar tender that I want the most expensive drink that I can't taste the alcohol in and 2D just asks for the most expensive. We get our drinks and I almost immediately drink half of mine because it just tastes like juice.

"Alright let me tell you the routine on how to have fun without throwing up and wanting to die the next morning", I say turning towards him.

He raises an eyebrow, "Routine?"

"Yes it's foolproof. So, we drink all of our first round, then we dance for a bit so we don't drink too much while sitting down or we'll fall on our ass when we stand up, come back to the bar and have another round, after the second round we drink some water then go get food", I explain.

"What if I drink more than what the routine allows me to?"

"Then you won't want to do the best part of the night", I say.

"And what's that?" He asks as he takes a drink.

"Going home to smoke and watch a movie of your choice", I chirp as I suck down the last of my drink.

"I'm not saying that doesn't sound fun but how is that the beat part?" He asks.

I giggle from feeling a bit buzzed. I'm a bit of a light weight and I sucked down the drink pretty fast. "There's no better feeling than having a fun night out, then going home drunk but not TOO drunk and smoke in a very cozy bed with movies. But it'll be even more fun now that I have someone to do it with. You know what I mean?", I grin.

He looks even more confused. "No, no I don't".

"Ah yeah..I forget I don't exactly have the typical type of thinking sometimes", I stand up and begin to feel light on my feet, "That drink was a bit stronger than I thought".

2D laughs quietly, "What? Can't handle your alcohol?" He says finishing his drink.

"Nope, I learned that the hard way, that's why I have the routine", I state.

2d stands up and stretches a bit, "I've got a good buzz going on, but I'm not much of a dancer".

"That's the fun thing about goth clubs, you don't have to be good, you just have to have fun and they'll think you're good!" I exclaim excitedly.

2d smiles at my excitement and follows me to the dance floor. Space and Time by VNV Nation starts to play.

"Just follow my lead, this is one of my favorites". I stand in front of him as the intro starts then once the beat drops I jump from side to side with a big smile on my face. It gets a bit faster which signals me to add my arms, I move them up and down opposite of where I'm jumping. 2D rolls his eyes playfully and starts to copy me.

"Okay here's where things get a bit different", I yell so he can hear me as the lyrics start. I close my eyes with my hand on my chest and move my shoulders side to side as I lean back. I snap back up and slightly shudder like I was hit with a small volt of electricity.

"Gothic dancing is all about the flow, just be a graceful zombie. Shouldn't be too hard for you, yeah?" I smirk. I do more flowy dances and he copies me. I cycle through my flow dances and jumping around.

2D has the biggest smile on his face from dancing and watching me. It almost seems like he forgot why he was sad in the first place.

The song ends and we're both a bit out of breath. "You wanna smoke then do that second round?" I ask, catching my breath.

"Yeah, if you can handle it", he says as we walk outside and hang out by the entrance. We both light a cigarette and start to take hits.

"2D I don't think I've ever thanked you properly for calming me down, words are hard when I'm like that", I say as I stare up at the moon and stars.

"It's okay, you don't have to say anything. I felt like I had to in a way. I did a shit job at keeping Paula from touching Sherbert and I made a promise to you", he says as he takes a long drag.

"I don't blame you for that, but I don't know there was something about what you said and how you just knew that letting me know my bunny wasn't hurt would make me stop seeing red, it felt..really nice", I ramble as the alcohol starts talking.

He smiles, "I'm glad I could help".

We stand in silence as we finish our smoke and put them out. We go back in and sit at the bar to get another round. We order the same thing as last time.

I get through half of my drink before I cut myself off. 2D finishes his and started to get giggly and a little wobbly so I cut him off and got us some water. We both have Two glasses before we leave to get pizza. 2D takes me to a little store that sells huge slices. We make sure that the place is more expensive beings we aren't the ones paying for it. We walk and eat at the same time to a gas station to get snacks for movie night at home. We grab some bags of chips and soda then go to the counter to pay for it. We grab the bags then check to see how much money was left on Murdoc's card. It's at negative one so we cheer a little.

We finally make it home so I hand 2D the snacks to go to his room while I give Murdoc his card and grab the bong. I walk to his bedroom and knock on the door.

"What?" I hear him groan.

"It's me, I came back to give you your card", I reply.

"Come in then", his voice softens. I walk in and see him lying on the bed with ice on his nose. I reach into my pocket and hand him his card. He takes it and sets it beside him on the bed. "How far in the whole am I?"

"Negative one dollar", I grin.

He chuckles lightly, "Yeah I should've saw that coming", he says then awkwardly looks away from me.

I can't help but question it. This isn't like him to be so…quiet and distant. He's the type to be all up in your face no matter the situation. I had a feeling in my chest that he wanted to talk.

"You look like you want to say something so spit it out old man", I say and cross my arms

"Damn you and your stupid witchy shit", he mumbles and sits up as he takes the ice off his nose, "I want to make one thing clear, I don't give a fuck about what other people think of me, I don't care that 2D hates me and I don't regret my actions..", he trails off, "But I SLIGHTLY care about what you think of me, I've taken a liking to you, not in that way but you're the one person I can tolerate for a whole day..and I don't want to lose that", he rolls his eyes, "I feel like a stupid kid that's desperate to be loved and safe and I'll cling to anything that provides that". He pours his heart out then groans in annoyance.

"STOP DOING THAT WITCHY SHIT TO MAKE ME POUR MY DARKEST SECRETS!" He yells at me.

"I'm not doing anything, that's just me I've had strangers vent about their horrible childhoods to me but I'll give you some advice," I put my hand on his head and he glinches at first then look at him, "You are a child that wants to feel loved and safe, I can see right past your bullshit and know you're just a scared little boy that wants to be loved, I don't hate you but I'll make sure your shitty behavior has consequences, so no weed from me for a month", I say. I'm a bit too honest when I drink oops.

He has tears in his eyes and I can't tell if he's going to hit me or sob. "Fuck off y/n".

I smile knowing that's his way of saying 'I love you' right now, "Love you too Murdoc", I say as I pat his head and make my way out of his room. I close the door behind me and begin to get the urge to go back to him and comfort him. But he's not the one that needs it right now, he brought this upon himself and he can sit on it. 2D is the real victim in this situation.

I shrug off the urge and go to my room to change. I take off all my clothes and put away my fangs then get dressed in an oversized pink t-shirt and short shorts with blue striped fuzzy thigh highs. I wipe my makeup off and very quickly wash my hair in the tub. I grab my big fuzzy blanket, Sherbert, and the bong then go to 2D's room.

I walk in and see 2D sitting in front of the TV looking through his DVDs. "It's about time you got here", he looks up from the DVDs and gets a huge smile on his face, "Can't be hard all the time huh?"

I smile then set my blanket on the bed with Sherbert, "Yeah, sorry I was talking to Murdoc then I had to get all the hairspray out", I say as I sit down and take a hit from the bong.

"What did you guys talk about?" He asks in a slightly annoyed voice as he puts in a movie then joins me on his bed.

"Nothing much, he just asked me if I hated him and I basically said no I'm just very disappointed", I say as I pass the bong to him.

He gives a small 'hmm' then takes his hit. We watch the movie and take turns until the bowl is ash. We absolutely destroy the snacks and drinks as we talk and bullshit around.

At some point I curled up in my blanket with Sherbert and fell asleep on his bed.

Sherbert (2d x autistic transboy reader)

Warning: drug use, drug addiction, blood, drug mention. Plz don't read if your under 16/17

Chapter 1

I must be the master of being at the wrong place at the wrong time. I just moved here not that long ago and this is the second time I've seen a car crash right in front of me. I just want to see my dealer so I can get a few joints and go home, but I see a blue haired boy fly out of the wind shield and smack his head on the curb with a disturbing thud. I hear glass cracking underneath my boots as I run towards him. I don't know what I'm gonna do when I get to him, I'm not in the medical field but my body just instantly reacted. 

I kneel down by his head while trying to avoid shards of glass to study his injuries. It doesn't take me long to notice that he's the same boy I saw in the first crash when they put him in an ambulance. His face has bruises and cuts in a few spots and blood is flowing from his closed eyes. I hear a soft groan come from him so I put his head in my lap to give him a bit of comfort. I'm sure his head is splitting right now. I can't believe I've watched this man completely eat shit twice. He has his lips slightly parted so I can see that he's missing two front teeth. Poor man has been through hell. 

I gently put my hand on his cheek and rub his face with my thumb. He softly groans then slowly starts to open his eyes. My eyes widen in horror as I see two black voids staring up at me. 

"Wow", he mutters with a small smile.

"Dude, are you okay?" I ask in a panicked voice. 

He winces in pain as he wakes up more and starts to feel the effects of going face first into a curb. "Me head hurts..a lot, but your hands and thighs makes it feel better". 

IS THIS DENSE MOTHER FUCKER TRYING TO FLIRT WITH ME AFTER BENG THROWN OUT OF A CAR? 

I roll my eyes. "Maybe I should've just kept walking..anyway let's clean you up a bit yeah? Ya boats a mess". I don't know where the accent or slang came from. All I hear is the accent all day and I do tend to copy unintentionally. I take off my coffin shaped backpack and pull out some wet wipes then start to wipe the blood off his face. 

He tries to chuckle at my horrible accent. "Hey I was being sincere OUCH". He flinches in pain. 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to", I apologize. I finish up wiping his face and my hand that I had cupped on his cheek. "Can you stand up? You need to go to the hospital". 

He relaxes a bit and slowly nods. The black eyed man tries to find his feet and stands up slowly. I put everything back in my bag and put it on my back. I stand up and look over him again. I realize I come up to his forehead in my platform boots but without them I'd probably come up to his chin. He stumbles a bit so I hold onto him as support. 

"YOU TWO ARE PERFECT!" I hear an excited and raspy voice call out to us. I look in the direction it came from and see an excited green man jump out of the wrecked car. I immediately take notice of his messed up nose and the upside down cross necklace that bounces around his neck as he comes towards us. I recognize him as the other person involved in the first crash. "Two tall and edgy people as my lead singers? Not to mention a black eyed God, the girls are gonna go crazy for him, ah your name should be 2D because you've got two dents in your head, much better than Stuart". He continues to ramble. 

The busted up man starts to stumble more against me so I sit him back down and turn my attention towards the other one. "You fucking idiot, you put this man through two serious car accidents and look at his face! What the hell are you going on about a band? He needs to see a doctor!". 

He scoffs, "Oh he's fine, look at him!" He motions towards Stuart who's wobbling even though he's sitting down cradling his head in his hands. 

I grab the man by his shirt collar and pull him to me. "Listen here you blithering cunt, you're taking him to the hospital NOW!" I yell. 

"Oi are you single by chance?" He gives me a gross chuckle, but I ignore his question. 

"NOW!"

He holds his hands up to surrender. "Fine, fine! Whatever you say". He rolls his eyes and pulls out his phone to call an ambulance. I let him go and let out an angry sigh as I walk over to Stuart. 

I kneel down in front of him and place my hand on his knee. "Hey we have an ambulance coming for you soon okay?" I say gently. 

He looks up at me with pain written all over his face. "Are..you coming with me?" He asks rather pathetically. In fact it's so pathetic I can't say no.

"Yeah, I'll come with you, my name is y/n by the way". 

"Mine is Stuart, but 2D sounds really cool too". 

—-------

At the hospital I found out the green man's name is Murdoc. He kept trying to convince me to join his band but I always protested. 

"Come on lass! Who doesn't want to be in a band?" He pleads.

"I'm not a lass", I inform him and cross my arms. 

Murdoc eyes me up and down with a questioning look, but he lets it go. "Whatever, who am I to judge, but that wasn't a no". 

I sigh in defeat. "Look I'll think about it, will that get you off my ass?" 

Murdoc beams with happiness. "I'll take it!" 

I scoff and go in to check on Stuart. The doctor said he looks okay but they wanted to keep him a bit longer to be sure. They said his eyes will stay that way forever and they gave him some pain meds for his head. Upon entering the room I notice a girl sitting beside him with choppy dark brown hair, thin eyebrows, and red lipstick on. I must have missed her when I was bickering with Murdoc. She notices me and gives me a 'what the hell are you doing here' look. I immediately know from this look that she's the girlfriend. Whatever, I'm not exactly interested in dating at the moment. 

I walk over to stand beside Stuart's bed.  "You feeling any better now?" I ask. 

"Yeah they gave me some painkillers so I'm feeling great now", he smiles at me. "Oh! Paula this is y/n she's the one that helped take care of me when we crashed". 

"He. I'm a boy", I say bluntly as I wait anxiously for their reaction. 

"Oh, you don't look like a-"

"I'm trans let's move on", I cut him off. 

He scratches his head in confusion. "Right, uh he's the one that took care of me". I'm pleasantly surprised at his quick fix to my pronouns. Both of the boys had a better reaction than I expected. They both get an extra 20 points for not being bigots in my book. 

Paula rolls her eyes. "Well whatever you call yourself, I'm his girlfriend so you can leave him to me now". 

I frown a bit in confusion at the sudden rudeness, but I'm not about to argue so I just step out and join Murdoc in the waiting room. He's the last person I want company with but I want to stick around until Stuart gets discharged. Although his girlfriend is here so I guess I could just leave him to grab my stuff and go home. I mentally sigh remembering that he asked me to come with him so no I can't just leave, but I could step out and come back. 

"Hey, I'm gonna step out for a bit. Can I see your phone so I can give you my number?" I ask Murdoc. 

"Of course I'd love to have your number", he winks at me then hands me his phone. I take his phone and put in my number then set my name as 'y/n (back up singer). I send myself a text so I'd have his number then toss his phone back. 

"Text me updates on Stuart and if he asks for me tell him I'll be back", I say as I turn my back to leave. 

"Hey wait does this mean you're in?!" He asks when he takes notice of my name in his phone. 

"Maybe" I say on my way out the door. 

—-----

I make it back to the hospital an hour and a half later after visiting my dealer. I always shove my joints or bag in a zipper pocket I made on the inside of my boots. It's a decent hiding place. 

I waltz back to the waiting room and sit beside Murdoc. "Hey, 'ow's Stuart doing?" Damn the accent came out again. Murdoc looks at me funny then gets really close to my face. Crap he knows and I can't keep a straight face when I'm buzzed. He stares intensely at me which makes me give a big goofy grin. 

He smirks. "Oh you're completely mullered aren't you?" He whispers. 

"Not completely just wee bit buzzed". 

"At least you know how to party, also your accent was terrible". He chuckles. 

"I know..it happens unintentionally, I swear I don't mean to". I ramble. 

Murdoc laughs and ruffles up my hair. "Don't get your knickers in a twist luv, it's alright". I flinch at his touch and move his hand off my head before I got used to the feeling. "Oh? Not a touchy person?" 

"No I am, it's just I'm not used to getting physical affection anymore". I look at the ground awkwardly. "Anyway, is Paula still here? I'd like to check on Stuart". 

"No, she left a bit before you came back", He answers. I nod then walk to Stuart's. I lean against the door frame as I watch him hold a hand held mirror to inspect his new facial features.

"Yeah, they're a bit off putting aren't they?" I state. 

He jumps so bad he almost drops the mirror then snaps his head towards me. "Oh, it's you," he chuckles nervously, "I think they're cool looking, and sorry about Paula earlier". 

I shrug. "It's fine, I don't care that much. She was probably just stressed because her boyfriend is in the hospital, I'd be snappy too", I reassure him with a smile. 

He smiles back at me slightly showing off his two missing teeth. It was cute in a dorky way. "Yeah probably, so Murdoc told me he convinced you to join the band?" 

"He was very convincing when it's all he'd talk about for an hour straight, besides I guess it could be fun". 

—------

About an hour later Stuart got discharged and I invited them to my flat because it wasn't far from the hospital. Stuart looked exhausted and I didn't trust that Murdoc would have a decent place for him to sleep. 

I bring them both inside then show Stuart to my bedroom. I flick on my black light to illuminate my room so Stuart could see where he's walking. My posters and my neon worm on a string wall decorations light up immediately, giving more color to the room. He takes notice of my bed half full of stuffed animals. 

"Never thought you'd have so many cute things based on how dark you dress". He states. 

"Can't be a hard ass all the time", I say as I go over to the bed and move an old, but well taken care of, light multicolored bunny stuffy from the empty side of the bed. I put it on the other side with the rest of the stuffies while making sure it was in a comfortable position. Stuart sits on the other side of the bed once the bunny is moved. I see him give me a gentle smile from the corner of my eye. He reaches out to touch it but I stop him. 

"Please don't touch him", I mumble. 

"I wasn't gonna move..him..I just wanted to see how it felt"

"I get it but please don't, look I'm autistic and that's my comfort item which means nobody is allowed to touch it", I say. 

He gives me a very confused look. "Man you got a shit pick of the draw didn't you? With you being trans and autistic I'd imagine you don't have too many friends". 

My face drops and I look away from him as I awkwardly rub my arm. 

He notices my changed mood and quickly tries to explain himself. "Oh no I just meant that people around here can be dicks. I'm sorry. Um hey my hair grows out blue and now I have no eyeballs or two front teeth so I guess I also got the shit pick so maybe we could be friends?" He rambles. 

I chuckle at his awkward attempt at making me feel better. "Yeah I'd like to be friends...you can feel his ear if you want to". 

"Are you sure?" 

I nod. "You didn't bat an eye when I said I was trans or autistic and you listened when I said dont touch him, so I think I can trust you". 

He smiles then gently puts a long floppy ear between his fingers and rubs the fabric. "He's very soft. I can see why he's comforting, does he have a name?" He asks. The fact that he calls the bunny 'he' and not 'it' makes me a bit more fond of him.

"Sherbert", I mumble a bit embarrassed. 

Stuart chuckles, "That's cute, so you mentioned that I listened to you and that's why you trust me, did other people not listen?" 

"Yeah, I've had three people over and they all purposely picked him up and moved him or pushed him on the floor. They wanted to get a reaction out of me and well they did but it wasn't what they wanted. I busted their faces then dragged them out of my flat, THEN I cried". 

He half smiles at me,"I promise I'd never be mean to Sherbert", he says softly like he's trying to comfort me. 

"Stuart I can't tell if you're being genuine or if you're secretly making fun of me" I say bluntly. 

"I don't want to break your trust luv, it's genuine and if I break that promise you can make me eat a curb again". 

I can't help but laugh. "I'll hold you to it, well I should let you get some sleep, I'll turn off the light so it doesn’t mess with your head". 

He takes one last look around and smiles warmly. "Yeah, thank you for everything today," 

"No problem, goodnight Stuart", I turn off the light and close the door behind me. I go to the living room and find Murdoc examining all of my bat and coffin decor. I take off my boots and get the joints out then I stand on the arm of my couch so I can reach the top of my bookshelf. 

"Ah so you dabble a bit too huh?" I turn my head to see Murdoc talking about my altar that has crystals, candles, a couple crystal pendulums, my tarot deck and a Loki statue. 

"Oh yeah I do some witchcraft", I say as I grab my little metal tin and put all of the joints but one in then put it back. I take off my backpack to grab my red Nokia and cigarettes then place them with the joint on the bay window. 

"Who's the statue of?" He asks. 

"That's Loki he's the god I work with slash worship", I inform him as I open up the side window and sit on the bay window. I light a cigarette and blow the smoke out. "Speaking of which, can you light his candle for me? It's the red one right in front of the statue, there's a lighter right beside it too". 

Murdoc scans my altar real quick before he finds the lighter and tries to light it. He tries to light it a few times but all that comes out is sparks. 

He starts to get frustrated, "Oi I think your lighter is dead". He says. 

I take a drag of my cigarette and shake my head as I go to him. "No that's not the problem," I put the cigarette in my mouth then take the lighter from Murdoc and light it with ease. I light the candle then smirk. "I'm so sorry I dared have someone else light your candle you fussy thing". I watch the flame get bigger and wiggle around then smile. 

"Let me see that lighter again".

I hand it to him and he lights it on the first try. "This is shit".

I chuckle and go back to where I was sitting. "He didn't want you to light his candle, I bought that lighter yesterday so I knew what the issue was", I say as I grab my phone and add Murdoc to my contacts. 

He rolls his eyes. "I guess he is a fussy thing", he mumbles then comes to me and pulls out his own pack of cigarettes, "Care if I join you?". 

I shake my head as I take a drag. "Open the other corner window and take a seat, blow your smoke out the window though. I don't want my place smelling like smoke".  

He nods and opens the window then takes a seat opposite of me. He puts a cigarette in his mouth and tries to light it but his lighter won't light. "You gotta be fucking me UGH". 

I laugh. "I guess Loki didn't like it when you called him fussy". 

"YOU called him fussy!" 

"I'm allowed to, that's how we joke", I chuckle. "Here use mine". I slide my lighter to him.

"Thanks", he says in an aggravated tone and finally lights his cigarette. "You better not make freaky shit happen when I get the band all put together", he slides my lighter back to me and takes a hit. 

"Don't fuck with me and it shouldn't be a problem", I chuckle. 

"Right", he says. 

We sit there in silence as we finish our cigarettes. 

"I was going to offer you a smoke with me after I got done smoking but I'm tired", I say as I put my cigarette out in the ashtray. 

Murdoc does the same. "Yeah I'm pretty tired myself. I'm gonna grab 2D and we'll be out", he says as he stands up and closes the window. 

"He's okay you can leave him", I say as I close mine then put away the joint I left out with the others. 

"Are you sure you're comfortable with that?"

"Yeah I trust him". 

"But you don't trust me to spend the night?" Murdoc asks.

I narrow my eyebrows at him. "I want you to look at Stuart's non-existent eyes and ask me that again". 

He scoffs. "I'm never gonna hear the end of this". He says as he makes his way out the door. 

I sigh in relief to finally have some alone time. However, I decide to enjoy it by falling asleep on the couch. 

[elias-code]

Two Left Hooves [2/7] - Choice II

Choose your own adventure ~ “What’s Better than Breakfast in Bed?“

Characters: Technoblade x gn!reader, Philza

Summary: You've asked Techno whether he wants to sleep with you or not, and he makes up some excuse to join you. He cuddles with you into the night, but you're greeted with a nightmare, Dream's voice warns you of something to come, but refuses to specify what. Techno pulls you out of the dream and you sleep undisturbed until he greets you with breakfast in the morning.

Warnings: Cussing, Nightmares

IF YOU HAVE NOT READ THE INTRO AND CHOSEN YOUR ROUTE, DO SO HERE: INTRO

— The Bird —

"Techno-" I said, kneeling to his level, "What do you want? I mean, you can sleep with me if you want to."

He paused, expecting a quip, but instead, I'd forced him to choose for himself.

"Seeing as you’re already cold, even with the fire..." He clicked his tongue, testing his words, "I want to keep you warm."

Holy shit that's adorable, I thought. Techno never let emotions shine through his words. When I talked to him, I had to constantly read between the lines. His monotone speech was, I supposed, a product of his repressed emotions. Ever since meeting him, I felt like it was my responsibility to dismantle the fortress he’d put around his heart.

"Excuses, excuses," I teased, “but you’re right, I’m gonna freeze without you.” I smiled at him. He let out a small huff, but his expression was unreadable.

"It's not an excuse, it's a reason," he said, turning to me, "They're desperate for me to be at the banquet, but they won't let me go alone, alright? If I let you freeze to death, it wouldn't make for great PR."

I rolled my eyes and scoffed, standing up. I offered a hand to him, to help him stand, "Thank you for not killing me so you don't have to go," I whispered.

"No problem, heh," he took my hand and stood, "I'll be back in a bit, alright?"

"Where are you going?"

"Just downstairs, get ready for bed," He said, dodging the question. He let go of my hand and awkwardly pat me on the head, leaving the room.

I didn't know how the ball was going to work out. On the one hand, Techno would go to the banquet and it'd be as awkward as it's always been between us. On the other, I'd manage to tear down his walls and reveal his emotions, changing our relationship forever.

Techno presented himself as untouchable, calling himself 'the blood god,' but I saw him hold back tears when Tommy betrayed him. I saw the destruction his wrath brought upon L'Manburg. He has compassion, but if he bottled them up any longer, there's no telling who he'd become. He couldn't keep letting everything out as anger, or we'd all pay the price.

I dressed for the night, setting his cape on the back of his chair. I chose a simple shirt and pants, the thickest ones I'd brought with me. I was still cold, but I took the opportunity to inspect his room.

He lives in the attic, a small loft with sparse decoration. What little furniture he did have was extravagant and of the highest quality. His desk chair was made of dark oak wood, the velvet red cushion was well worn. The table matched, a knife was stuck in it, too hard for me to pull out. It was dull, probably used to open letters.

His bed was made, probably just before I got there since it was only roughly put together. Next to it, there was a giant bookshelf pushed against the wall. Most of the books were unmarked and dusty, but a few of them were clean, recently put back. The Art of War, Odyssey, and the Iliad were among them. Their spines were worn and multiple bookmarks were sticking out of the top of each.

"Do you read much?" Techno asked, startling me.

"Um, oh," I stuttered, "I don't know where to get books from, so..."

"No?" He reached over and pulled The Art of War out of the bookshelf.

"I live out in the middle of nowhere," I shrugged, "The only thing I read is my mail."

"That's pretty sad," he said matter-of-factly.

"I have plenty of things to occupy my time with, Technoblade," I crossed my arms.

"Mhm," he handed me the book. Its cover was more worn than its spine, the old leather was cracking at the corners. "Take that home with you, I've read it a thousand times. Might come in handy."

"I suppose I can use it to knock intruders out," I flipped it over. It was like a brick in my hand, heavy and hard enough to break a window. "Thanks."

I yawned, realising how late it's gotten. I left my house almost a full twenty-four hours ago and I rode endlessly until I got here. I was exhausted.

I walked over to my pile of stuff and carefully placed the book in my bag. I then took a bit of a running start and jumped onto the bed, landing in a pile of furs and knitted blankets. "Don't wake me up in the morning," I muttered.

Techno came over and sat on the bed next to me. "I'll try not to," He said.

I shuffled under the blankets and shivered. The furs were enough to keep my body heat in, but I wouldn't tell Techno that. I heard him pick the covers up to join me. Soon, I felt his arms wrap around me, his chest to my back.

My cheeks flushed bright pink and I stifled a giggle. The blood god is snuggling with me... This is not what I thought was going to happen when I joined the server. I smiled and put my hand on his, wrapped around my waist. No one was going to believe this ever happened.

--- The Bird's Dream ---

He’s there, he’s right there. I need to go see him, I need to get there before it’s too late. There are so many people in the way, I’m not going to be there in time to dance. Who are all these people? They whisper about him as if they know him, as if they watch his every step and live in his mind. Left and right, they whisper things about me, about him.

“Did you hear, he’s going to the ball!”

“Oh and with that beautiful bird,”

“If only they knew. Tsk.”

Their eyes were unmoving, fixated on me. I shoved my way through the crowd, suddenly falling into the void.

“Did you really think it was going to be that simple? That you’d just seduce him with the snap of your fingers? He’s not a dog, he can’t be trained. He’s a wild animal. He’s unstable, He’ll break your heart, little bird.” Dream's voice boomed, echoing in my mind.

"Who are you?" I tried to yell, but only air came out.

"I'm the one who whitelisted you, the one who trusted you."

"What does that mean?" I was desperate to stop, to wake up, but I was falling infinitely.

"That's not for you to know, Puppet. You're here because I have a job for you, nothing more. You're the only one that can get through to him."

"What- What's my job? Why am I here?"

"You'll know soon enough-"

--- Technoblade ---

I slept soundly until I felt them stir under me. It sounded like they were having a nightmare, they muttered my name. What the hell are they dreaming about? I pulled them closer, brushing my hand through their hair. I wanted to wake them softly, so they'd forget about whatever was just racing through their mind.

They took a deep breath, signalling their waking. I continued to stroke their hair, "You ok, Bird?"

They mumbled an 'ok' and turned to face me, burying their face in my neck. I did the same and took deep breaths for them to follow. Within minutes, they were asleep in my arms. It felt right.

I didn't have the heart to admit it. If I did, I'd just have to tear it all away again, I'd be the one thing I truly hated. I'd be a traitor.

Don't get attached, Techno. We get to break hearts now, not just crush them! If you name this one, you'll regret it. Nothing screams ruin more than you do.

-

I woke up to birds chirping outside my window. The weather had finally let up, now I could finally get real work done. It took me a couple of seconds to remember the person fast asleep in my arms. A lump formed in my throat, but I swallowed it.

Carefully, I picked up the covers and snuck out of bed. I wanted to keep my promise not to wake them up, and so I immediately left the room, avoiding the creaky floorboards as I descended the stairs to the kitchen.

I pulled half a dozen eggs out of their box and cracked and cooked them over the fire, adding the occasional spice so it wasn't too bland. I toasted some bread and stuck it all on separate plates. Four eggs for me, two for them. I was two times their size, after all. The image of them laying on my bed flashed in my mind, making me smile. I shook it off. I couldn't get attached any more than I was now.

I pulled myself together and went back upstairs with the food. I put my plate on my desk, pulling the knife out of it and stashing it in my drawer. I walked over to the bed, placing their food on the nightstand. I reached over and gently pat them on the head, slowly waking them.

"Good morning," I whispered.

They opened their eyes and mumbled "G'morn'n,"

"I made you some eggs," I said, still petting their head, "You should eat them while they're hot,"

"Ok," they sat up and I moved back over to my desk, sitting in my chair.

They yawned and stretched, their shirt raising over their waist, exposing their belly button. I looked away and busied myself with my food.

Oh, look at them, they're so cute... so naive... so vulnerable.

I wanted to scream at the voices to shut up. They had been plaguing me ever since Phil suggested I invite them. For some reason, they had a vendetta against the bird. They wanted to see them suffer to, in turn, make me suffer. The voice's presence itself was enough to turn my hair grey, but this added a whole extra layer to my agony.

"Techno?"

"Hmm?" I didn't look up from my food.

"Did you make me breakfast in bed?"

I looked at them, hiding my embarrassment, "You told me not to wake you, but I was hungry, and I thought you'd like some too."

They blushed and shrugged. "You know me so well," they sighed.

"And I thought you'd appreciate the origin of the eggs," I added.

"Oh, and where are they from?" Their mouth was full, making them mumble a bit. They looked a bit scared.

"Well," I leaned towards them in my chair, "They're from The egg."

"Bullshit," they called, stuffing their face with more eggs. Maybe I should have given them more.

I laughed, genuinely, "They're just chicken eggs, I doubt the egg would taste very good,"

We ate and joked like nothing was wrong in the world. They were so good at making me feel at home, but the voices were eager to remind me of my past. I wouldn't let them spoil this. What we had was new to me, and I wouldn't just lay down and take the voices at their word. Gods know they aren't worth their weight.

— Philza —

“Hey, you two…” I creaked open the front door to Techno’s cabin.

The bird smiled at me from the breakfast bar, “Hey Phil, good morning!” They seemed very chipper for having just woken up. Both of them were already dressed in the day’s clothes, excluding overcoats that hung on the hooks by the door.

“Hello, Phil,” Techno nodded at me. His hair was neatly braided and they were both already dressed.

"How was your morning?"

"Techno made me breakfast!" They laughed. That was a surprise, he didn't even cook for me.

"Ooh, nice," I said, "What's better than breakfast in bed, eh?"

"Riches beyond your wildest dreams," Techno chuckled. I guess they were both in a good mood this morning.

“It’s nice to see you, mate,” I said to the bird, wandering over to join them at the breakfast bar. I sat down on a stool next to them, putting the notebook on the counter in front of me. “I’ve got something for you.”

“Ooh, what is it?” They said, sliding the notebook over to them. I reached over and opened it to the page I was referring to.

“The banquet has a dress code, and I’m assuming you don’t have anything that matches it,” Everything they wore was forest green or yellow, sometimes they had black or white clothes, but it was few and far between.

“What’s the dress code?”

“It’s blue, black, white, and gold,” I pointed to two drawings on the page, “I’m thinking either I make you a dress or a tuxedo, or I can mix the two. A tux top with a skirt. What do you think?”

They pressed their lips together, surveying their options. I tried my best to draw them, although they were rough sketches of a fancier design in my head. I could draw buildings and architecture for my blueprints, but flow-y things were not as easy.

/// UNDER CONSTRUCTION, BRRRRR ///

Choose your garment! It only affects the story slightly, I promise! There is no gender attached to them, it just changes how you’ll interact with people :)

Dress

Tux-dress

Tuxedo

[marchioness-caprina]

I Deserve You

Pairings : Tamaki Amajiki x Reader

Writing Style : 3rd Person

Warnings : Mild Cussing

Word Count : 3091

3rd Person's POV

The Day of the School Festival, After stressful Days of practicing dance moves for the Preparation of Class 1-A's show everything was going smoothly. Everyone was having Fun And Y/n was too. She was playing the Violin while Bakugou played the Drums, Tokoyami and Denki with the guitar, Jiro and y/n also shared the vocals and Momo with the Keyboard.

Y/n was Having Fun seeing all her peers enjoying the show they put on but something was missing and she was desperately searching for a certain someone to watch the show. Mirio was there... But where was Tamaki?.

Y/n was having fun... Was... After finally confirming that Tamaki did not come to watch her mood immediately dampened.

She had been crushing on this 3rd year male from the very beginning and she did not try to hide it. In fact she would go try to catch him in any way, she'd flirt with him, court him, confess to him, give gifts to him but all the boy ever did was Shy away from her, he'd return her gifts and he'd even run away.

Even though y/n would either laugh it off or smile. It hurt pretty damn much. And now she was actually hoping he'd show up to atleast show that he cares but no he was not here.

Her heart dropped knowing fully well that he didn't care. And as their show finally ended. She had a blank expression plastered on her face making her classmates worry.

Because she was always expressive and smiling, her face always filled with emotions and her eyes lively and fiery. But now she looked different.

" Y/n-chan! Are you ok? " Mina was the first to ask and her classmates looked at her having the same question as the pink haired girl.

" Yeah I'm fine... I'm just tired " Y/n tried faking a smile but this time. It was too painful to do.

She was completely smitten for Tamaki.

" Bullshit, it's pretty clear that you aren't. And let's be honest here. When were you actually tired? Never. " Bakugou grumbled as y/n raised her brow gazing at the boy before shrugging her shoulders and walking away ignoring the calls of her classmates.

" Guys... Let's give her some time alone " That was the last comment she heard before she disappeared into the crowd.

She needed to get her mind off of things and what's the better way to do it than eating Takoyaki while watching the beauty pageant held by U.A.

Y/n was surprised to see Nejire senpai showing her talent , Nejire flying from above the ground. She looked beautiful but then y/n heard the familiar voice of the person she was searching for earlier.

" She looks like a fairy... Like this... So happy... And smiling brightly " Those exact words came from Tamaki who was standing beside her and she didn't notice.

Her eyes trailed up to Tamaki's eyed which were concentrated on Nejire's dancing figure and she couldn't believe it. The warmth and.... Love Tamaki's eyes showed while looking at Nejire was painful.

She wanted to do nothing but throw up all the food she consumed and bury herself under the ground. How could she be so blind? Of course Tamaki liked Nejire, He was close to her. They were friends while he and y/n are not, Nejire was powerful, Kind, Smart and very beautiful.

Y/n's heart felt like it had been stung by a thousand needles and she wanted to cry but somehow the tears refused to come out.

After a few moments of Tamaki looking at Nejire he felt someone looking at him and he tried looking around to see who it was and when his eyes landed on a pair of E/c orbs his heart jumped.

Oh no, is he gonna get jumped again by this clingy yet adorable Kohai?.

" Y-y-y/n! " Tamaki stammered jumping back as he strare back at y/n who gave him an unreadable expression.

He was expecting the usual, with y/n clinging onto him and flirting with him till his face turns as red as a tomato but to his shock she just turned around and left.

He was frozen in place. He couldn't comprehend what happened to that girl he began to feel anxious.

' Does she hate me?.... Shouldn't that be good she'll finally leave me alone... Wait someone hating me isn't good!... But.. Why am I so bothered by it? ' he silently thought to himself.

He watched the retreating figure of y/n and he suddenly had a powerful urge to grab her and pull her back .

Meanwhile, y/n who was walking away from the show was about to burst in tears but she slapped herself chanting more than a hundred times that she shouldn't cry.

So she stood strong and sucked it up. Wiping a small droplet of tears that was threatening to spill at any moment.

Maybe it's for the better. She'll find someone else... Hopefully. For now she should try to forget about him and move on. Act like she doesn't know him.

___________________

After that Day everything changed which got everyone questioning.

' What's wrong with y/n?'

She became a little distant and cold it was hard to believe but still, she did show unconditional care and love for her classmates but everyone couldn't help but worry since she never seemed to say anything and if one of them asked, she'd change the subject or walk away like she didn't hear anything.

What shocked them the most was how she had been Avoiding Their senpai, Tamaki like he was the plague or something. Usually she'd be seen hanging with them during lunch or walking with Tamaki during break time but now she isn't. During lunch she sat with the Izuku squad, when she passed by The Big three she'd either take a detour or pretend like she didn't see them in the first place.

Tamaki, Tamaki was conflicted, he was so confused, he felt like his heart was eating him up only to spit it out again, he felt like there was something gone something he longed, something he missed. And he knew it was y/n. He was gloomier than normal and Every time he sees y/n through the halls his heart swells up expecting her to run at him and hug him... Tell him she likes him but no. That's not what happened, what happened was that she avoided him , she ignored him and she pretended like she didn't know him.

And he never knew it hurt this bad he felt so upset he wanted to bang his head on the wall and cry his pain out.

What did he do wrong though?, what got her so worked up to treat him like this? that she made it so painful for him?. Didn't she say she loved him? Then where was all that affection now? Where was that attention she used to shower him with?. Where was his y/n? The one that loved him?.

Did she find someone else? Does she not want him anymore? Did she finally notice that He's not worth her time? Is she finally going to leave him?.

Is This how she felt when Tamaki ignored her? When he ran away from her because his heart couldn't handle so much love knowing he can't hold back for any longer and just kiss her. If this is how it felt like he didn't want it! He wanted her back.

Those negative thoughts were what occupied Tamaki's mind and he never noticed the small droplets of tears trailing down his cheeks that Made Mirio and Hado panic.

" What's wrong Amajiki? " Hado asked and Tamaki couldn't help but muttered his worries.

" .... She doesn't love me Anymore "

" You mean y/n? Nonsense she probably didn't notice you walking by" Mirio tried to comfort his friend but it was no use, He just wanted y/n back.

" For a whole month?.... She didn't notice us for a whole month? She never came to our classroom or ate with us anymore... She didn't wait or approach me down the halls. She didn't even spare me a glance " Tamaki muttered and Mirio was honestly surprised to hear his friend utter a sentence without Stuttering.

This was serious. And somehow they needed to fix this. For Tamaki.

______________

" Ok Class, We'll be training with the Big 3 for the next Week because they'll be grading you based on what they have observed " Aizawa sensei announced and the whole class was hyped. Well most of them.

There was a specific girl who did not appreciate this at all.

And she was y/n.

The big three were standing infront of them with Mirio and Nejire Flashing worried glances at Tamaki.

Tamaki had his eyes on y/n who refused to acknowledge his existence and it hurt so bad.

When she finally did look at him. For the first time in forever he actually had the courage to smile and wave at her but y/n kept a cold facade ignoring his wave and smile and all she did was look back to her side and ignore him.

That action was noticed by everyone in the room.

Even Aizawa sensei who usually acted tough and uncaring was worried for his student because she was acting really out of character.

He questioned her classmates about it and they started explaining what they had noticed and observed too and honestly he hated seeing even One of his children like this and on cue the big 3 but mostly Mirio and Nejire tried to convince him to let the three of them train his students but he knew fully well that it was so Y/n and Tamaki could interact.

He wasn't against the idea since he wanted the same y/n back also.

So he asked permission from principal Nezu who didn't mind the idea at all and it led to this .

" Now each member of the big three will be given an assistant and I'll personally be the one to assign them. Uraraka you'll be Nejire's assistant, Midoriya you'll be Mirio's and Amajiki your assistant will be Y/n--" Aizawa sensei was cut off by y/n who clearly didn't like the idea.

" What? No!... I mean... Pick another assistant... I'm not good at being One " Y/n knew her excuse was lame but that's the best she could do.

However, Her denial made Tamaki Dizzy with nervousness with all the insecurities coming back a pained expression painted on his face as he stared at y/n who stood her ground.

Mirio rubbed Tamaki's Back while whispering.

" It's gonna be ok. You still have a week "

" Well sorry but it's been decided. If you want to back out because you can't handle it then do it but you'll have a failing grade if you do " Aizawa didn't mean to threaten his student but this has gone far enough. She's turning into a cold heartless girl. And he didn't like that.

" Fine.... I'll Do it... " Y/n muttered looking down on her desk.

____________________

3 Days had passed and Tamaki was nowhere near successful. He never knew that y/n could be this cold. If he knew he would never have made her mad in the first place.

Her words stung and it hurt so much he had to hide in the bathroom for an hour to calm down and convince himself that it's fine and that she didn't mean it but she was brutal with her words.

She did a pretty good job not talking to him though and it was extremely hard to even get her to look at him.

He was starting to lose hope, he was planning on a hundred ways of apologizing but somehow none of them were ever successful.

He has two days left to find out and this time he was more than determined to do so.

Aizawa was kind enough to assign him and y/n to clean up the gym after training and still y/n didn't even talk to him. Not even once.

" Y-You K-know y-you're really pretty... Today " Tamaki complimented earning another cold silence from the girl.

He couldn't take it anymore.

He grabbed her arm, turned her around and clung onto her. His arms wrapping around her very being along with y/n's arms restraining her.

Y/n had no idea Tamaki was this strong... No wonder he's part of the big three but that isn't the point right now.

" Let me Go! " Y/n yelled as she began squirming.

" No! " Tamaki yelled back and that only made y/n more violent, wiggling and kicking as much as she could. She kinda felt bad when she heard Pained Grunt from Tamaki.

" D-Do... You Hate me that M-Much? W-what did I Do? " Tamaki's voice was hoarse and broken and then y/n noticed how he was looking at her with big eyes and there running down his cheeks.

" .... " She was speechless.

" Please Answer me... And... And... And I'll finally ... L-leave you alone " Tamaki practically begged as more tears spilled out of his eyes.

" ... Why are you doing this exactly? " Y/n asked and Tamaki slowly let go of her and he kneeled down on the ground unable to contain his emotions. The crippling anxiety attacks he had whenever he felt a powerful surge of emotions slap him the face.

" I-I Love you " He managed to choose out between sobs.

" Really? Don't you Like Nejire? When I was chasing you.. You ran away from me... On the School Festival... I was hoping you'd watch our show but you didn't... I looked for you everywhere and now you say that? Don't lie to me... I heard your comment about Nejire... You managed to watch her show but... Why not ours?.... " This time it was y/n's turn to have tears falling down her soft cheeks as she covered her mouth with the back of her hand to prevent any sobs to escape her lips.

" I d-d-don't like her like that! I thought I should be happy that you're gone but I'm not! I'm miserable! And that D-D-Day at the School festival.... I-I thought of you as a friend but it got me thinking... W-Why would I buy you a custom made bracelet if I only liked you as a friend!?... I didn't manage to watch the show because... I was working extra shift at F-Fatgum's stall to pay for the bracelet I b-bought you.... The reason why I stood beside you during the pageant was because I wanted to give it to you... But y-you walked away before I even had the chance to!... T-Then I finally understood my feelings... Why I made is much effort to design the bracelet myself and have it custom made... It was because I love you!... A-And you started avoiding.... M-M-Me... You started pushing me away and ignoring me... It hurts! It really hurts! I-I though you found someone else... I thought you thought I was pathetic! I t-thought you f-finally r-r-realized that you could do so much better at picking g-guys who aren't me... I had so much negative thoughts running through my head... B-Because I was so scared of l-losing you... " Tamaki forced himself to say how he really efly without stuttering but it was no use. He couldn't help it with all the sobs caught in his throat.

Y/n was speechless then her heart started clenching in pain, her heart dropped to her stomach seeing how much pain she caused him. Realizing How terrible she had been.

One time out of worry she actually went inside the boy's bathroom only to hear Tamaki hyperventilating inside. She was so worried she asked mirio to check on him.

She couldn't help the tears cascading out of her eyes that were red and puffy.

She looked down at Tamaki who was clutching his hand on his chest choking on his own sobs.

She felt so horrible. She sat down infront of him towards her and pressing her lips against his shutting him off. He sobbed in between the kiss but nonetheless he shyly kissed back with tears running down his face. The same with y/n who had tears on her eyes as well.

When she finally pulled back her forehead was pressed against his as she stared at him with loving eyes.

Those eyes.... He missed that... He craved that. The way she looked at him with so much love without judgement.

" You Dumbass.... I don't need a fancy Bracelet... I just wanted you... Nothing could compare to You.... Your simple presence is enough to make me happy... That day... I just wanted you.. And you should know that.... I love you... I'd pick you any day over some fancy bracelet " Y/n smiled and Tamaki who was rendered speechless at what she said crawled closer towards her to connect his lips with hers once again this time he had the courage to dominate the kiss.

He pulled back abruptly as he wrapped his arms around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder .

" I-I just... W-Wanted you to see... I'm capable... Of giving you things other guys give their g-girlfriends... " Tamaki whispered making y/n chuckle.

" Really tamaki? I wouldn't pick some random rich bastard off the streets... I want my adorable elf boy " Y/n teased as she blew a puff of air against Tamaki's Ear making him shudder as he backed away. His face turning red.

" D-Don't T-Tease " He whimpered as he fished for something in his pocket.

And then he pulled out a Jade bracelet with y/n carved on it and surrounding it were small diamonds.

" Tama... You didn't have to... It's beautiful " Y/n muttered as Tamaki took her hand sliding the bracelet on her wrist.

" I... You deserve better " Tamaki mumbled.

" Yes I deserve better " Y/n stated and tamaki looked up at her his ears twitching in fear expecting her to take it off but instead she had her arms wrap around his neck giving him a peck on his lips.

" Because "

" I Deserve You "

[floorbe]

Can I get the thh boys with an s/o who's the ultimate cheerleader and the boys finding out that people are insulting their s/o purely based of the stereotypes and it's starting to get to their s/o. Like these have bad opinions on cheerleaders purely because of TV and movies (oh boy do I have stories)

Aw nonnie, nobody should treat you that way based off of a dumb dumb stereotype :^( SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT//

~

Byakuya Togami

“Byakuya?” you nearly whisper, frowning as you stare at your lap. You hear him hum from where he’s sitting on the chair across from you, reading. “You don’t think I’m snobbish, do you?” It’s silent for a few moments, and you almost regret asking, opening your mouth to take it back before he cuts you off.

“Where did you get that assumption?” you hear him snap his book shut, placing it on the table next to him as he focuses fully on you. 

You shrug vaguely, still avoiding his gaze, “Some people at school keep saying stuff about me because I’m a cheerleader.”

“And you would believe them, why?” 

You give him another shrug, sighing softly, “I-I don’t know. After a while of hearing the same things you start to wonder if it’s true.” You hear him shuffle again, and your gaze flickers up to see him swinging one of his legs over the other as he sighs through his nose.

“Let’s not forget that you’re an Ultimate and they’re not. They’re beneath you, jealous of your talent, and taking it out on you in hopes that it will make you fall beneath them. They’re not worth your time, and they never will be,” he states matter-of-factly. “Commoners will never understand, so there’s no point in taking anything they say into consideration.” 

Giving him a small smile, you thank him as you feel some of the doubts that plagued your mind dissipate. He only hums in response, picking his book back up and flicking it open again. Despite his cold demeanor, the way his gaze lingers on you before returning to his book tells you all you need to know. 

Hifumi Yamada

“Y/N! Y/N, I’m here!” Hifumi practically sings, knocking lightly on your door. You clasp your hand over your mouth, trying to calm yourself down enough to answer him without any shakiness in your voice. You try to quickly dry your seemingly never ending stream of tears, sniffling loudly. “Y/N?” Hifumi calls again, this time considerably less cheerful. 

“O-one second, Hifumi,” you call out, silently cursing yourself as your voice cracks in the middle. You pray that Hifumi doesn’t think much of it.

“Oh, okay! ...Wait, are you crying?!” Damn. Well, no point in hiding it now. You open the door with another sniffle, moving slightly to let him almost rush inside before closing it again. “Y/N, what’s wrong?! You can talk to me, I happen to be a very good listener,” he says with an almost proud tone, smiling at you. 

“Thank you, Hifumi,” you smile, wiping your leftover tears away. You sit down on your bed, beckoning him over to sit next to you, which he gladly does. He waits patiently for you to begin, offering you his hand with a kind smile. You interlock your fingers gratefully. 

You take a moment before beginning to explain everything. You tell Hifumi about everything people had been saying about you, how they view cheerleaders as bad people solely based off of media and were judging you based off of that as well. He listens to you quietly, occasionally nodding his head (and with a little huff of agitation) to let you know he’s still listening. 

“I’ve been trying to just let it go, but recently it’s been too much, y’know?” you finish, sighing heavily. Hifumi nods again, eyebrows furrowing as he seemingly contemplates what to say. 

“...How messed up!” he settles on, shaking his head angrily, huffing again through his nose, “Judging people based on something like that... that’s like judging someone solely based on what anime they watch!” He clenches the hand that’s not holding yours into a fist, gritting his teeth. You laugh quietly at his comparison, making his scowl relax back into a small smile. 

“Don’t listen to them, Y/N! Doing something you love... it’s way more important than listening to jerks like them who don’t even know you!”

Kiyotaka Ishimaru

Your eyes gloss over the same math equation for what seems like the tenth time, trying to cement it into your brain. Each time you read it it feels like it goes through your mind and then directly out of it as soon as your eyes move on. No matter how hard you try, you just can’t focus on anything.

Your mind keeps drifting back to the comments that were being made towards you recently. They circle throughout your mind, fogging any chance of focusing on this study session. You’d been trying to let it all roll off of your back, just how you’d always done, being the Ultimate Cheerleader doesn’t always warrant the kindest treatment, especially because of how the media treats cheerleaders. Lately, though, it seemed as if the comments being made were digging deeper, cutting harsher than they usually did.

“Hey, Taka?” you break the silence that had taken over the room previously. You hear Taka hum in acknowledgement, raising his head slightly to peek up at you from his spot in front of you on his bed. “Can... can I talk to you about something?”

You can tell he’s about to oppose in favor of waiting until after you both study, but he promptly closes his mouth when he sees the serious look on your face. Flipping his book closed and setting it aside, he scoots closer to you, “Of course you can, Y/N.” He takes the book from your lap as well, closing it and setting it off next to his own. “What would you like to talk about? I am happy to listen and show any support I can!”

You smile at his enthusiasm, shifting your gaze to your lap and taking a deep breath to collect your scattered thoughts. He waits patiently, folding his hands in his lap as you decide what to say. 

“Lately a lot of people have been talking about me,” you start. “Not in a good way. They’ve been, uh, insulting me because I’m a cheerleader,” you see Taka stiffen, furrowing his eyebrows, “And they think that all cheerleaders are awful because of some stupid tv shows. And usually I try to let it go, but it’s just been... worse lately, I guess.” 

“This- this is unacceptable! Who are they?! I’ll give them a stern talking to- no, not only that, but I’ll give them detention, too, and-!” you cut him off by reaching out to gently grab his hand. 

He blushes as you lace your fingers with his, smiling at him, “Thank you, Taka.”

“O-of course! They’re completely wrong to judge you based off of a stereotype, Y/N,” he firmly states, nodding for emphasis. “A-and for what it’s worth,” he pauses as if debating something in his head, and then he very quickly lifts your hand to press a kiss to the back of it, blush intensifying, “I-I... I think you’re pretty amazing!”

Leon Kuwata

“Yo, Y/N, you in there?” you hear Leon knocking on your door. Sniffling, you struggle to wipe the still falling tears from your cheeks, choking back a sob. Leon knocks again after a few moments, prompting you to try and call out a “hold on”, but your voice breaks in the middle. “...Y/N, you okay?” 

You shakily open the door, revealing your distraught form to him as he ruffles his hair nervously. “Whoa, hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, following you inside your room as you back up. He closes the door behind him, furrowing his eyebrows in concern as you sniffle. He slides his arms around your waist, pulling you close to rest your head on his chest. 

You bury your head into his chest, shaking as you try to explain with a steady voice. He rubs your back soothingly as you gradually explain everything to him, patiently waiting in moments where your voice becomes too shaky to speak. You choke out how horrible you’ve been feeling because of what people were saying about you, how it’s become too much for you to handle.

 Leon holds you close as you cry into his chest, only guiding you to sit on your bed once you start to calm down. It’s only when you pull away from him that you realize how tightly he’s clenching his jaw. “All of that is bullshit,” he eventually says, a hard edge to his tone, “They’re all dumbasses! Being a cheerleader doesn’t define who you are!” 

You slouch forward, letting your forehead rest on his shoulder. He wraps his arms around you, letting you relax into him. You tiredly thank Leon, a small smile playing on your lips as he kisses your head. “Don’t let jerks like that get to you, Y/N, they’re stupid as hell. I’ll kick their asses,” he offers, voice contrastingly soft for the harsh words. Smiling, you sigh against his shoulder, thanking him quietly as he holds you. 

Makoto Naegi

Leaning back against Makoto’s chest, you sigh softly as your mind wanders from watching Makoto play his video game, arms circled around you to hold the controller. Your eyes stay trained on the colorful world on the screen as your thoughts drift off to more troublesome thoughts. You’d always been looked down upon by others for being the Ultimate Cheerleader, and while it wasn’t you specifically that was the problem (rather the media’s interpretation of cheerleaders), recently it had started to bother you more than usual.

People just seemed to automatically assume that you were snobby, or mean, or talked behind people’s backs without actually ever talking to you. It frustrated you, how could you just assign someone a personality based on what they like to do? Based on something that isn’t even accurate? 

“Y/N?” Snapping back to reality, you notice the game had been paused. Tilting your head back to look at Makoto, you see him frowning down at you. “Are you okay? I’ve said your name three times already.” 

“Oh, sorry,” you mumble, “I was just thinking.” Makoto’s gaze lingers on you even after you tilt your head back to look at the still paused screen again. 

“You know, if something’s bothering you, I’d be happy to listen,” he reminds you, placing the controller to the side. 

“You sure?” you look back up at him, “If you want to keep playing I don’t mind.” 

He shakes his head, smiling, “The video game can wait.” A small smile grows onto your face, thanking him quietly. 

“It’s just...” you sigh again, trying to organize your thoughts, “Recently the things people are saying about me has been getting to me. They’re judging me without even talking to me just because I’m a cheerleader, and it- it just sucks, y’know?”

“Yeah, I understand,” Makoto tightens his hold on you, tugging you closer back into his chest, “Just remember that they don’t know you for you. You’re an amazing person, and if they can’t see past the obviously fake image of cheerleading, then they’re missing out.” 

You relax further into him, thanking him quietly as he places a kiss on the top of your head, “Of course, no one should judge someone based on what they like to do.”

Mondo Oowada

Curled up in an empty hallway in the school, you furiously rub your eyes as tears stream down your face. You don’t want to be crying right now, damn it! Mondo is about to pick you up for your date, and if he sees you crying then he’s going to ask why, and then you’ll have to explain how people are insulting you for some dumb stereotype-

This only causes you to cry harder, shoulders shaking as you’re reminded of the insults that are constantly being thrown at you for being the Ultimate Cheerleader. You try to calm yourself down, Mondo will be here any minute, you remind yourself, but you can’t seem to settle your thoughts down. 

“Yo, Y/N, you h-” Mondo cuts off as he rounds the corner to see you, hugging your knees tightly to yourself and hiding away from him. You seem to only curl further into yourself at his voice. “Shit, Y/N, what’s wrong?” he tries to soften his voice, kneeling down beside you and placing a hand on your back, stroking it soothingly. 

At the feeling of his hand, you suddenly open yourself up, throwing yourself into his arms. He catches you with a quiet “whoa”, arms wrapping tightly around you. He shifts to sit against the wall, pulling you fully into his lap as you sob into his chest. He continues to rub your back, moving his other hand up to stroke your hair in an attempt to soothe you. 

He’s silent even as you start to calm down, letting you be the first to speak. You linger against him for a few more moments as you tremble, head pressed against his chest. You eventually lean back, apologizing for sobbing on his shirt without any warning. He shakes his head, “Don’t fuckin’ apologize. If you need to cry, you need to cry, y’know?” 

You nod, silent for another moment as you sniffle. You shakily ask if it’s okay for you to vent to him, to which he scoffs and tells you that “of fucking course you can, it’d be shitty as hell for me to not let you talk about what’s bothering you”. You giggle a bit at that, sliding your hand down to take one of his own in yours, squeezing it as a thank you. 

You explain to him all of the things that people have been saying about you, how you try to keep your head high and keep going, but it’s all getting to be too much for you to handle. How people aren’t even trying to get to know you for you, and rather just assuming the way you are based off of the stereotypical cheerleader in media. 

“What the fuck?! I’ll beat some fuckin’ respect into them!” Mondo threatens, clenching the hand that wasn’t holding yours into a fist. You take his fist with your other hand, gently unraveling his fingers to interlock with your own. He sighs heavily, tugging you closer to him to press a kiss to your forehead. 

“None of that is fucking true, got it? They’re dumbasses for just assuming shit about you. You’re kick ass and nothing they say can change that.” 

Yasuhiro Hagakure

“Yo, Y/N, there you are!” Yasuhiro laughs loudly, “Think you could give me the answers to the math test?” You jolt in surprise, head snapping up from where you’d settled it against your knees. You quickly raise your hand to wipe away your tears, clearing your throat as Yasuhiro finally notices the state you’re in. 

He’s silent for a moment before kneeling beside you, a smile on his face, “Hey, I don’t know what’s bothering you, but it’ll totally work out! You need to trust the process.” He nods sagely, and you huff out a sigh of amusement at his blatant optimism. “You can talk to me if you want! I’m pretty good at listening.” 

He sits beside you as you nod gratefully, leaning your head on his shoulder as you tell him why you were crying. He listens as you vent to him about everything being said about you, offering a kind smile whenever your voice shakes too much to continue for a moment. When you finish, he’s considerably less optimistic than when he found you. 

“...Jeez, how rude!” he angrily exclaims, clenching his fist as he huffs, “That’s totally messed up! Those guys really have a huge ego to be insulting you when they’re so awful!” You sigh, shrugging vaguely and pulling yourself closer to him. He sighs as he wraps an arm around your waist, calming down as you cuddle up to him. “Don’t worry, Y/N, I have a feeling it’s gonna bite them in the ass, soon,” he sends you a wink. You laugh quietly as he tugs you closer to him, letting a comfortable silence fall on you two.

Chihiro Fujisaki

“Hey, Chihiro, you busy right now?” you ask quietly, leaning against the doorframe as he types away on his computer. He swivels in around in his chair with a smile at your voice. 

“No, not at all,” he says softly, beckoning you in with a small wave of his hand. You close the door behind you, shuffling over to sit on his bed as he spins his chair to follow you. He seems to notice the more serious mood you’re in, for he tilts his head and asks if you’re alright. 

“Well,” you swallow thickly, trying to ignore the lump in your throat, “Can I... talk about something?” 

“Of course, Y/N,” he smiles at you again, but this time there’s a certain kindness to it that makes you feel at peace. With that comforting feeling, you begin to tell Chihiro about what’s been bothering you. As you start, Chihiro stands up and slides onto the bed next to you, folding his hands as he listens to you. As you explain how people had been berating you he gasps softly, a worried yet frustrated expression forming on his face. 

“That’s awful,” he murmurs, tears pricking his eyes, “You’re so kind and caring... How could anyone say such horrible things?” Peeking up at you from where his head is tilted down, his face flushes as he leans forward to softly kiss you on the cheek. “P-please don’t listen to them, Y/N. None of what they said is true.”

Kiyondo Ishida (he’s technically here, right? right. let’s ignore the implications)

“They fudgin’ what?!” Kiyondo shouts, clenching his fists, “I’ll give them detention for fudgin’ life! I’ll kick their butts!” 

“No, Kiyondo, please don’t beat them up-” you struggle to restrain him from rushing out of the room.

“I have to! They made you feel like crap, Y/N!” You grab ahold of his clenched fists, unraveling them to lace your fingers together in hopes of calming him down. He still struggles to make his way to the door, but he starts to settle down as you squeeze his hands gently. He meets your gaze as he returns the simple affection, a smile hinting at his usual scowl.

He sighs, still fuming but no longer itching to sprint out of your room, “Shoot, sorry Y/N. Guess I got too rash, huh?” 

You shake your head, pecking his cheek in appreciation and laughing under your breath as he tenses, a pink hue dusting his cheeks, “Thank you, Kiyondo, I really appreciate it.” 

“O-of fudgin’ course, Y/N! Everything they said about you is crap! They’re dumbbutts for judgin’ you based off of somethin’ like that,” he says firmly, “Tomorrow I’m going to give them all fudgin’ detention, and they won’t mess with you again!” 

[oohnoniall]

A Court of Fire and Ice {Tamlin x OC} - Chapter 5

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Warnings: Tamlin is being portrayed as he is in ACOMAF and ACOWAR. Trigger warnings include fantasy violence, misogyny, swearing, and Tamlin being an uncontrollable rage beast (no domestic violence !!)

note; i’m so sorry this is late !! june is one of the worst months mentally for me and i didn’t even realize it was saturday lmao. but this is a fluff chapter so hope that makes up for it !!

Things were going about as well as they ever did in the Spring Court. Lyriel had not stopped training with his guards and sentries. She had been out there every single morning for the past two weeks. She was better than he had expected her to be. Perhaps her collection of blades was not just for show.

        Feyre was still suspicious of the woman but had said nothing more. It was in her eyes whenever Lyriel slipped silently into a room. Tamlin had told her again and again that it was nothing to be concerned about. Yet, Feyre seemed more withdrawn than usual.         

        He had assumed it was just nerves because of the wedding. He had tried to take away anything that would stress her. He had tried to do what he could to protect her. She had done so much for him. It was his turn to be the provider, the protector. He just hoped he was doing the right thing.

        "We're expecting a large turnout," Ianthe said excitedly over dinner that night. 

        He was the only one who noticed Lyriel's grip tightened on her fork. 

        "I should expect so. This will be the first thing we've had to truly celebrate in a very long time," he sipped his wine, his gaze falling to Feyre. She shifted in her seat once, her fork laid beside her plate.

        He knew that something was wrong with her. Something that he needed to figure out but ... He was afraid. Afraid that she would say she no longer wanted this. She no longer wanted him.

        What if she didn't love him anymore? What if she had only thought that she had loved him? Why hadn't she told him any of this? He felt as though he was trapped behind an iron door, its frame built in the ash wood that kept his magic from being of any use. Yet, he said nothing. He just kept building walls around the two of them. Around her. He would protect her against anything in this world.

        Even if it killed him, he would do anything in the world for Feyre.

        "The wedding is going to be the talk of the Spring Court for centuries. Feyre has made exceptional choices." The way she said it made Tamlin wonder if Feyre really had made any of the decisions. He liked to think that she had. That she'd been inspired by anything.

        He didn't like seeing her so at odds. He didn't like watching her lose herself to the demons that plagued her mind. But he didn't know how to help. He was trying to make things seem normal but he thought it was making things worse. It was too confusing. Too much and not enough.

        "I would expect nothing less," he could feel his claws trying to poke out. His excitement radiating through him and bringing the beast forward. He shoved it down. He would not be reminded of that side of him. Not now.

        Tamlin looked at Feyre, watching her as she stared down at her plate. Did she want this wedding? Did he?

        The thought almost made him choke. Of course, he wanted to marry Feyre. It was all that he had ever wanted. She meant more to him than anyone else ever would. There was nothing to suggest wanting anyone else. If one ignored the bond that was between himself and Lyriel. He needed to send her away. It was getting too challenging to separate the bond from his actual thoughts, his desires.

        But seeing her go was one of the few things he found himself dreading. They had met on accident. What if they never crossed paths again?

        She would be out there, somewhere. She'd fall in love with someone else. She'd be happy without him. But did he want that? Did he want Lyriel to be on her own? No. He didn't. He hated the fact that he didn't. Feyre was supposed to be the one he cared for. Lyriel was just supposed to be a means to an end. A stronger connection to the Winter Court. That was all she could ever be to him. 

        He just wondered if that was for the best. Or just selfish bargaining with fate. Surely the Mother wouldn't continue testing him this way.

        Fate seemed to hate Tamlin Rosehall. He'd nearly killed his mother during his birth, had been the third brother and yet somehow managed to become the High Lord, then he'd been cursed for not wanting to be a tyrant's plaything. He truly did not see how fate was kind to anyone. Maybe he had just drawn the short stick in life. Or the Mother had been testing him. Growth from adversity and all of that bullshit that the priestesses always talked about.

        "If My Lord will excuse me," Lyriel's smooth voice pulled him from his thoughts. He could see a tense look behind her eye, her body poised to strike. He wondered who her target would have been. "But I must finish a letter for my general. Thank you for dinner."

        She did not wait for him to excuse her, nor did she bow to him. Lyriel slipped from the room as silent as a wraith. Ianthe's eyes tracking her every movement.

        Feyre did not wait long to excuse herself. Tamlin wanted to ask her to stay, but knew that he would be pushing it. Let her have the time she needed. He was trying to do what he thought was best. But none of it seemed to actually help her.

        The dining room felt smaller when it was just himself, Ianthe, and Lucien. For some reason, there was a tension in the room. He knew that Ianthe had eyes for Lucien but he did not think it was that important. He should have. Just based on how Lucien seemed to be avoiding looking at her.

        "That Lie woman ... She's imprudent," Ianthe stated as she picked up her glass of wine. She took a sip, a droplet of red dripping from her lips, before speaking once more. "She doesn't show you or our court the necessary respect. Surely Kallias wouldn't approve of her behavior."

        "What are you suggesting?" Tamlin questioned, ignoring the pounding in his chest. He knew Ianthe was smart. He knew she could put together secrets, but he didn't think she'd ever figure this out. Cauldron help him if she did.

        He knew that Ianthe would never turn against him. But what would she do if she found out he wasn't following the path the Mother had set for him? Surely she would be livid.

        "Punishment of course," Ianthe smiled at him. "Nothing too severe of course, that isn't our decision. But at least banishment. A year or two at least. Maybe longer if you feel like it's wise."

        "We can't risk Kallias seeing it as an insult," Lucien spoke up, a scowl marring the handsome features of his face.

        "We'll send word explaining the situation," Ianthe seemed almost giddy. "We explain that we won't take this as an affront to the Spring Court or to the Cursebreaker. Kallias will know that we still want friendship."

        Tamlin said nothing, staring at the plate that sat in front of him. Was this what they needed to do? Would he sell out Lyriel just to keep Ianthe happy? He didn't know what to do. If he kept Lyriel around, it could mean being found out. But sending her away? It felt like he was ripping something out of himself.

        "Lucien," he said after a moment. "What do you think?"

        "Lyriel has gone against a majority of what you've said," he had always been truthful with Tamlin. It was one of the reasons why he had become a brother to the man. "But I don't think she does it to insult you. She's a soldier, she isn't one for court life. It's obvious in the way she holds herself. Punishing her for that might just show the other Courts that the suspicions they hold of us are accurate."

        "Yes," Ianthe sighed as she looked at Lucien, daggers in her eyes. "But even a soldier should know to respect her betters. She has shown Tamlin nothing but disrespect. Not to mention the other members of this court."

        What had Lyriel said to Ianthe? It had to have been something intense. Or it could have just been some simple snide remark. He did not know Lyriel well, but he knew that she had a tongue on her. One that he sometimes debated asking her to still. If he didn't know she would verbally attack him for it, he would have.

        Tamlin gently ran his fingertips up and down the wooden arms of his chair. Small designs being drawn by the forefingers, followed by straight lines with his pinkies. What was he to do about Lyriel Chaeren? The question had haunted him since the moment they met. She was rash, she didn't have any notion of respect. Although he was certain that was because they were mates. Not because she was actually disrespectful.

        An ocean of unease rolled in his gut as he thought over his options. Keep Lyriel there. Keep her trapped in a home that she didn't want, make her watch as he loved another woman without ever giving her a second thought. Or let her go. Banish her from the Spring Court and never see her again. Let her fade into the background, a distant heart-breaking memory. He could let her be the woman she wanted to be. He could let her find someone who would love that frozen fire that burned inside of her. 

        The thought of her loving anyone else killed him.

        The thought of her suffering in silence killed him.

        Tamlin knew that he could not make a decision that did not hurt either of them. He couldn't fathom letting Feyre go. He couldn't think about running his Court into the ground. Although it seemed that was all he was good at doing. How would the Spring Court handle any of this? He didn't know. He didn't possibly know how they could weather a broken High Lord.

        So far they had managed. But managing was not thriving. He wanted the Spring Court to thrive.

        Feyre was the only way they would ever thrive.

        "The wedding is in two weeks," he spoke slowly, the image of the in-control High Lord that they all wanted. "After the wedding, I'll take care of Lyriel. Banishment ... It'll send a message that the Spring Court is not to be ridiculed." It would also tell her that he couldn't pick her. No matter what they both felt.

        Thunder boomed, the sound reverberating around the manor. To Tamlin, it had always been a lullaby. One that he had grown up knowing all the words to. The thunderstorms in the Spring Court had always seemed to sing to him. The chaos that raged outside matched the chaos that raged inside of him. It felt as though the Mother was finally seeing him. Seeing him and giving him some sort of message.

        It had never been one he had worked out.

        Tamlin had not gone to Feyre's room that night. He had not wanted to after coming to the decision of what to do with Lyriel. He hadn't wanted to see anyone. Holing himself up in his personal bedroom with paperwork and correspondence was a good excuse. As good as any, really.

        It seemed that all he did anymore was listen to lord's bitch about his taxes and tell the other High Lords how the Spring Court was fairing. He didn't know if he could handle it for much longer. But he did. Because he had to. If he didn't, it would all fall on Lucien's shoulders. What use was he then? 

        He felt something through the bond. A strong sense of urgency, a sense of fear. The beast inside of him wanted to run to her, to wrap his arms around her and protect her. But he didn't. He just stayed as he was, gripping his pen so tightly it felt as though it would burst.

        He did not have to come to her.

        The door opened and she slipped inside. Trembling as though she had been soaked to the bone. She didn't appear wet. She appeared fine. Just ... Terrified.

        "What are you doing here?" He growled out, fighting with the urge to protect her and the want to protect his own space. He didn't know what the balance was. Didn't know who to be for her. For anyone really.

        "I'll leave as soon as it's over," she snapped at him.

        The bite in her voice made him recoil. Maybe she was disrespectful as Ianthe had said. Or maybe she was just a girl who was scared. Considering how he hadn't seen her anything other than collected and arrogant, he doubted she knew what fear was. 

        "Lyriel," he sounded tired as he looked at her. "That doesn't explain why you're here."

        She didn't answer, her back turned to him as she sat on the edge of his bed. It should have made him mad to see her sitting there. But it didn't. He was too tired to be mad. Too curious as to why she had shown up in his room. 

        "Lyriel," the way her name left his lips was softer than it had ever been. He couldn't hide his concern for her. Even if he wished to.

        "I ... I just," Lyriel's arms shook as she slid her boots off. "Don't repeat this ever." She turned to glare at him, but it was halfhearted. The fire was not blazing. She looked more like a girl than a soldier.

        "I won't." Tamlin knew at that moment that he would keep this conversation between them. "Just ... Tell me what's going on."

        Lyriel cleared her throat, moving to lay in his bed. He had not told her she could. Yet, he found that he was too concerned to care. "I feel safer when I'm around you."

        No one had ever told him that. He often felt as though he scared people away. He thought they ran from him. No one had ever run towards him. His stomach churned. He wished she would have said anything else. How could he stand to push her away when she was the first person who had ever needed him?

        This whole thing was becoming a complicated mess.

        He needed to tell her to leave. To tell her to get the hell out and never come back. 

        But how could he? She was curled into a ball, making herself so small that she may have disappeared. He didn't ignore how she buried her face in the pillow he used. Nor how she was shivering. 

        Something within him broke at the sight. 

        Tamlin slowly stood, making his way over to the bed. He sat down beside her, resisting the urge to rest his hand on her shoulder. He stared at the wall behind her. Keeping his thoughts on something other than the woman who he wanted to wrap in his embrace.

        "What's going on, Lye," he felt somewhat odd calling her by the nickname. However, it felt as though this was the moment to comfort her. To tell her things were going to be alright. Even if he could not make things better. "I've never seen you like this before."

        Lyriel kept her back to him, staring at the same wall he was. "We don't need to talk."

        Something within him felt as though it was falling from a great height. He didn't know why she was pushing him away while she ran to him. Was he that despicable? Was he someone that she wanted to just shove as far away as she possibly could? He didn't know. He didn't want to know either.

        "I think we do," he told her, still not daring to touch her. "Something's upset you."

        A loud clap of thunder shook the windows, Lyriel ducked her head under the blankets. He could hear her voice but he could not make out the words she spoke. 

        Tentatively, he reached out through the bond. He would not touch her physically but he would use the bond to his advantage. He sent feelings of comfort and peace, wrapping her in whatever protection that he possibly could. Yet, he knew this would not be enough. She could feel comforted but if she was anticipating every crash, every bang she would more than likely continue to feel anxious.

        "You know you shouldn't be here, right?" Tamlin regretted the words the second they left his mouth. No one had ever said that he knew how to speak with people. Lyriel would be no exception.

        "I said we didn't have to talk," he heard her voice from under the blanket. At least she was speaking to him.

        "You're in my room, Lyriel." Tamlin sighed. "I'll decide if we talk or not."

        "I already told you the truth. What more do you want from me?" She peeked out from under the blanket. He had to swallow down the lump that had formed in his throat.

        "I just want to know where your heads at." He admitted, fighting the urge to run his fingers through her hair. To pull her into his lap and hold her until the storm passed. She wasn't Feyre. She wasn't the one he was supposed to hold. Hell, he didn't even do that with Feyre. She didn't need him to.

        Lyriel didn't seem to need him at all most of the time. She was ice. Unmoving and unchallenged. More a glacier than a woman. But as the lightning illuminated her face, he saw her for what she was. A woman who had been forced to grow up too fast. There was a hint of childish fear deep within the depths of her frozen eyes. Her left eyebrow twitched slightly. He noticed there was a new cut in it, probably from training that morning.

        There were bags under her eyes, darker than anything he'd ever seen on a High Fae. Had she been sleeping? Had she taken care of herself? Or was she just that miserable in the Spring Court? He'd caused this. He knew that he had.

        "My head is perfectly fine," it did not sound like the truth. "I just have an issue with storms."

        "What's the issue?" Tamlin wanted to ask if she had been sleeping. If she'd been eating enough. All the same questions he knew he should ask Feyre. All the questions he had been avoiding answering when anyone asked him.

        "I don't like them." It was a guarded answer. There was something more there. But Tamlin did not want to press. Not when she was holding herself so tightly, not when his blankets were wrapped around her like a shield. Besides, soon enough he would not be the one worrying about Lyriel Chaeren.

        He knew that he needed to get her as far from the Spring Court as possible. He knew that she deserved to find someone who would love her as he loved Feyre. Yet, the idea of her being away from him made him want to vomit. The thought of another person wrapping their arms around her and protecting her when the winds raged and thunder rattled made him see red. He needed her. He needed her to need him. Yet, he couldn't have her. It was unfair to both of them to keep her around.

        Mother above he never wanted to let her go.

        "You'll find the Spring Court gets them quite often," it was true enough. Tamlin knew he would tear apart his own Court brick by brick if it meant keeping the storms away. If it meant keeping Lyriel safe. "But they don't last long."

        "If you're determined to have a discussion, can we please talk about something else?" Her twitching eyebrow rose just slightly. The sight nearly comical. 

        "What do you want to talk about?"

        "Anything," Lyriel's voice was strong despite the shaking of her body. "Why haven't you punished me for training?"

        "I'm more afraid of what you'll do if I keep you from it," Tamlin admitted with a slight nod of his head. "I saw that look in your eyes when you came into my office and I ... I didn't want to be the reason it was gone."

        When the morning came, he would regret the words. Until then, she needed him. Maybe he needed her. He could allow himself to speak the truth to her. For one night. While she was scared, defenseless, he would be honest. 

        "No one's going to break me," she sounded determined. "Not even you."

        It wasn't said out of hate. He knew she meant that he could choose Feyre. That he was free to choose who he loved, who he gave his heart to. She wouldn't let his decision be the end of her. He didn't know how much he needed that knowledge.

        Tamlin slowly took her hand. It was wrapped in the blanket and hard to grasp, but he still took it. Her hand was cold, even though the blankets. Ice ran in her veins while the first blooms of spring ran in his. The Mother had played a cruel joke.

        The two fell into an easy silence, Tamlin continuing to send comfort through the bond. Her hand slowly warming while he held it. His own roaring mind quieted as she held onto him. He felt as though he could finally breathe again. As if some heavy weight had left him.

        "Tam," her voice was soft, muffled with the early onset of sleep. "Will you stay with me?" 

        His heart seemed to slow as he heard her question. He knew what his answer should be. That he would go to Feyre and spend the rest of the night with her. That Lyriel would be leaving after the wedding so him staying did not matter. But he knew the truth. He had always known.

        "Always." 

        As Lyriel drifted into an easy sleep, Tamlin came to a realization. It didn't matter who wanted her gone. It didn't matter how he felt about her or Feyre. Lyriel Chaeren was there to stay. Even if he could not give her the life she deserved, he could not throw her to the side. 

        Tamlin Rosehall was a selfish bastard.

[bleufrost]

Hi!! Don’t know if you write smut but I’ve been wanting a recent Hellboy smut to read ;) Maybe the reader is trying to avoid her feelings for him and he notices this and they do stuff in a closet or something????

Hellboy x reader (nsfw)

a/n: this took longer than it should have to answer, im so sorry love! im trying so hard not to go overboard with shorter requests but damn its difficult for me lol

masterlist

warnings: smut, a little rough play but overall soft

You had spent far too long hiding your feelings for Red for it to all come crumbling down now. Everything you said and did was calculated down to even the minimally possible implications, yet no amount of planning and deep thinking could fix what had been done.

The BPRD had sent you out on a mission with Red. A simple one really. All you guys had to do was find the succubus and neutralize her. Men had been going missing throughout the city for weeks and you all had finally found out why. It was an in and out mission; really, it was simple as could be.

Except it wasn’t.

The succubus put up a grand fight, refusing to stop when you and HB had asked her nicely. Of course, Red could hardly hold his temper and an argument turned into full out war within the span of a few seconds. In the end you guys stopped her, but not before she shared a little tidbit of information about certain sexual feelings for a certain big red spawn of hell that you had.

Needless to say, you avoided Red like the plague when you both got back to the place you called home. He tried endlessly to talk to you, at first teasing and then sincere. You were far too embarrassed to hear any of it though.

After a week of near misses and ducking into janitor closets, your luck was bound to run out.

Your breath came out in shallow puffs as you made your best attempt to stay silent in the dark closet. Not a moment ago you had seen Red walking down the hall toward you. The closet was all too easy an escape route, but you weren’t sure if he would have the same train of thought.

You’re quickly broken from your wondering when the door slams open and Red stands before you, anger and frustration marring his features.

“Hi?” You wave sheepishly at the guy and make to move around him, but he suddenly pushes you back into the small space and follows behind you closing the door.

“You gonna tell me what the fuck is with the constant hiding?” He’s mad, that’s for sure. Looking up into his eyes you can almost see the fire, which does nothing for the growing desire you have for him.

“I wasn’t hiding. Just so happened to not run into you much lately. There’s a difference, Red.” Letting out a laugh to lighten the mood, his hand comes up and silences you immediately. He pushes both palms against the wall on either side of your body, trapping you in and deepening the pull in your lower belly. You could lean up and kiss him with ease at this angle.

“That’s bullshit and you know it. Are you gonna keep lying to me, because I’ll be more than happy to make you tell the truth.” Red nearly growls out the words, teeth clenched and voice low. Your hands seem to have a mind of their own as they come up and lay against his chest. You can feel the pounding of his heart and suddenly you find yourself pulling him closer.

Your lips meet his in rough urgency. The two of you act as though this is the only way to survive for what feels like forever. He pulls back first, slamming you against the wall. You take notice of the fact that his hands protect you from the impact and take the full force of the blow.

Looking down into your eyes he growls lowly once more. “What did I say? You either tell me the truth or I make you. Choose. One.” The fire in his stare burns through you in the most delicious way, setting your senses aflame with need.

Quickly you wrap your arms around his neck and push yourself up to his ear. You bite at his lobe for a second and lick up the shell. “Make me.”

It’s a simple command, but Hellboy is always eager to make such things into a fight. He grips your waist tightly and pulls you up to straddle him with ease. You can feel his hard length pressing against your core and you can’t help the loud moan that escapes your throat.

Hellboy chuckles as he grinds into you, unrelenting as you begin to whimper into his neck. He grabs your face with one hand and pulls you to look at him before kissing you roughly.

“Is this what you want? Huh? You want to get fucked in a damn closet?” You nod and let out a little cry against his lips, feeling the low rumble in his throat as he groans. “I need you to tell me, baby. I need to hear you say it.” Your breaths come out shaky, you know that if you can’t feel him stretching your walls out soon you might just break down. Your grip tightens around his neck as he pulls you impossibly closer and his cock rubs your clit in just the right way. To hell with pride and embarrassment.

“I want you, Red. I want to feel you inside of me, please.” It’s a shameless cry and he takes no time at all to comply. Red puts you down for all of two seconds to rid you of your shorts. He pulls his pants down and his large hands are already feeding your needy cunt before you can even grasp what is happening.

A thick finger pushes into your entrance making you nearly scream with pleasure. Red uses his other hand to cup your breasts. He rolls a clothed nipple around for a moment before pulling your shirt aside and leaning down to take the pink bud into his mouth.

A second finger pushes into you and he takes up a relentless pace. “I wanna get you nice and wet for me, okay baby? I need you to be ready to take me all in alright?” You nod and feel your knees shake as he pounds his fingers into your core.

There’s a fire that soon begins to rise in your belly, lighting you up from inside. His fingers don’t stop as you begin to clench around him. Instead he just chuckles and keeps moving them in and out. “You cumming for me? Soaking my fingers in your sweetness baby? Good girl.” The praise only helps to elongate your orgasm and he helps you ride it all out before removing his fingers. Red licks them clean, lifting them to your mouth after and tells you to spit.

His cock is hard and angry as he uses your spit and juices to coat himself from base to head. “Are you ready for me babe?” Red looks down, genuinely asking the question to ensure you were okay; it melted your heart.

“Yes, please Red. I want you.” It’s all he needs to hear. Red slowly lines himself up with your entrance, rubbing his cock along your lips a few times and swirling it around your sensitive clit. You gasp and hold tight to him.

When he notices you struggling to stand on shaky legs, he lifts you once more to straddle his waist. His cock pushes past your entrance, and he slowly pushes in until he’s completely wrapped in your pussy. Your walls stretch around his cock and he fits in a way that causes you to burn in a pleasurable pain that you knew you were going to crave for the rest of your life.

You’re the first to start moving, lifting your hips up until he was barely inside of you, then pushing back down to feel him deep in your core once more. It takes only a few deep thrusts until Red decides to take control. He fucks you deep and hard, using the hands cupping your ass to occasionally smack it when you get a little too loud.

You take his face in your much smaller hands and kiss him deeply, feeling his cock hitting a spot deep inside you that you barely knew existed. Everything around you smells of sex and need as he continues to thrust up into you, bouncing you up and down on his hard member and driving you closer and closer to the edge.

“Are you close baby? I want you to cum with me.” His voice is rough and much lower than normal; something you didn’t know was possible but now questioned if you could live without. You kiss him again before answering in shaky gasps. “I’m so close, please don’t stop.”

Red tightens his grip on you and pushes deeper into you than you thought possible. You kiss him fiercely as your walls begin to spasm around his throbbing cock and it’s all you can do to keep yourself from crying out in pleasure as his warm cum shoots into your tight heat.

His moans mix with yours as you both use each other’s mouths to swallow the otherwise loud shouts of pleasure. Your orgasms slowly come to an end and you find it difficult to open your eyes. Red is in no hurry to move either though, so you take the moment to catch your breath and come down from the high he just put you through.

When both of your breathing has become sufficiently normal again, you open your eyes and let out a small giggle, kissing him gently.

“The truth is, I’ve been wanting you to do that since I first got here.” Red laughs a low rumbling of amusement. He puts you down slowly but leans in again to kiss you gently on the forehead.

“Well, babe, I’m happy to do it again whenever you want.”

a/n: requests are open for headcannons and shorter drabbles/fics!! have a good day loves! 

also does anyone know how to add a keep reading to answers? they seem to disappear :((

[baku-no-alt]

primary colors

prohero!baku x prohero! and gn!reader

Bakugou didn't know what the hell your problem was, but he was going to find out.

You had avoided a conversation with him after a meeting, found excuses not to train with him four times that week, and on one occasion had literally just turned around and walked the other way after making eye contact in the hallway.

He knew one thing for sure, and it was that you were not going to come into his agency and act like that. And he knew you were only treating him that way, because he had actually asked around to see if anyone else had noticed anything off about you - like an idiot - and they had all said no.

It wasn't that you were intimidated by him, either. You'd bested him a handful of times, using your aura-reading quirk to react against his fighting moves before he even made them. But now, you avoided him like the plague. Why?

Fortunately, he had spotted you working at a coffee shop, and before you could register what was happening, he pulled out the chair across from you and sat down.

"Oh, christ," you groaned under your breath when you glanced across your table.

"Mind telling me what the fuck your problem is?" Bakugou grumbled before taking a sip of your coffee.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you replied, staring intently at the notebook in front of you. But you did know, and you knew that he knew that you knew.

Bakugou leaned forward and pressed his fingers to his temples. "I'm talking about the fact that you haven't spoken to me or trained with me or even looked me in the eye for the past two weeks."

"I took you for more of a loner type." You began to doodle on the notepad absentmindedly as you spoke.

"Well, despite being categorically better than every other person at our agency, it seems they always put us in teams," Bakugou was getting impatient, "and if we're going to be on the same team, I need to know what your issue with me is. Can you at least fucking look at me?"

You glanced up at him, and then quickly back down again. "I don't have an issue, everything is fine. I've just been sparring with other people."

"Bullshit, you've been training with everyone except for me... You've beaten me before," he grimaced at the thought, and what he was about to say, "and I need you to keep training with me. I need someone with your quirk who can keep up with my fighting style. And I like having you on my team on missions - are you even listening? Could you at least look me in the eye?"

"I can't."

"Can't, or won't?"

"Can't!"

"What the hell does that even mean?" Bakugou almost shouted.

"It's your aura," you shot back, lowering your voice in hopes that he would do the same. "I can't look at you or fight with you because of your aura."

"My aura?" Bakugou stared at you over the rim of your coffee cup.

"Yes. It's as bright as the fucking sun. It hurts to look at. I can't fight you because I can't see past it. It's annoying. Are you gonna pay me for that coffee?"

"No. When did that start happening?"

When I started having feelings for you. "About two weeks ago. I came in to train and I was looking for you. I can usually spot you because your aura is a really deep red, but all I saw was the vague outline of a glowing human. So bright, it's almost white. I only knew it was you by the sound of your voice."

"Why didn't you just tell me, dumbass?"

"Well, it's been easier to deal with day by day. I can actually look at your face for a few seconds now. I thought it might... resolve itself?" And the thought of telling you about my feelings makes me want to vomit.

You reached for your coffee cup, unable to see that among the glowing mass, Bakugou's hand was also reaching towards it. The tips of your fingers touched his, and you felt a shock to your body.

"What are you doing?" Bakugou asked you.

"What do you mean?"

"You're... yellow."

You looked down at yourself. You could always see your own aura - a warm, comforting yellow - but now it seemed Bakugou could see it as well. As your scanned your body, you noticed something new - an orange blotch on your aura, near your fingertips. You also noticed that the glow coming from across the table had significantly subsided. When you looked at him, Bakugou's aura was returning back to normal - except for his finger tips. Also orange, among the vivid red you'd come to know.

"You're red," you finally replied.

"I know, I see that too." Bakugou said, but he was staring between your hand and his and the orange patches on your auras.

So he could see his, too? A quick glance around the coffee shop let you know that no one else was affected.

And then Bakugou grabbed your hand.

Red and yellow auras mingled together and the orange blotch grew to encase both your and Bakugou's hands and halfway up your arms. You could start to feel his aura, the emotions it was holding.

"What does it mean?" he asked you.

Oh, fuck it.

"I think it means that we have feelings for each other." Also maybe that I'm already kind of in love with you, but who's counting?

There was a pause.

"Well this was a pretty fucking dramatic way of telling me that."

You punched his arm playfully. Another orange spot appeared on his aura.

He looked at you, and his eyes softened when they met yours. You felt a jolt of panic for some reason - you had never seen a soft side of Bakugou before.

"Just don't be so dramatic on our date tonight."

"Our what?"

"Date. Or was your quirk wrong? I thought you said you had feelings for me," he teased.

His cocky attitude made your cheeks burn, but you weren't going to let him win. "No, it wasn't wrong. Just text me the details," you said as you stood up and gathered your things. Before you walked away, you added, "I'm just curious to see how long it will take before I turn your aura completely orange."

Bakugou smirked. "I guess we'll have to find out."

Only when you turned away from him did you allow yourself to smile like an idiot, heart thudding against your chest.

[ohthatsviolet]

Too Much

- A Miroctane fanfic. (1,608 words)

Oh, this is kinda angsty and also contains spoilers for the “Lying Liar” chapter of the quest, so maybe come back later if you don’t wanna see that yet. Ao3 link will be in the RBs as usual. 

Elliott confronts Octavio after he returns from the Shadow dimension.

Ocatvio wasn't sure where he was when he woke up. The air around him was tainted with the scent of musk and his fingers felt cold. He couldn't really see very well, but that could have been due to his blurry vision or the overall poor lighting in this area. Is this what Heaven was? Because this sucked. He wanted to warm up but he could barely move, no matter how much he tried to force it. He just felt so cold, but nowhere near as cold as the pair of icy brown eyes that he noticed by his bedside, when he finally came to. 

"Elliott?" he croaked out, following it with a harsh swallow in an attempt to quell the dryness in his throat. "Water?" 

The trickster wordlessly stood, and returned a short while later with a bottle in hand. He unscrewed the top, and perched himself on the edge of the bed, offering it towards him. Octavio took grateful gulps before laying back on the hard surface of whatever it is he was resting on. It was only now he'd realised he was in the backroom of the Paradise Lounge, which would explain the smell. 

"What happened?" the realisation prompted him to ask. "Did I get them all?" 

Elliott appeared to furrow his eyebrows, though he couldn't quite tell for sure since the trickster seemed to be avoiding looking at him. 

"Get what?" 

"The prowlers." 

"No," the trickster scoffed. "Thought that one was pretty obvious. How'd you think you ended up here?"

The space between them fell painfully silent after that, and Octavio didn't really like where this conversation seemed to be headed. Still, he felt it was best to deal with the elephant in the room as quickly as possible, so they could move past all this awkward tension. 

"You're mad at me." 

"Wow, you figured that one out a lot quicker than I thought you would! Good for you." 

The runner wrinkled his nose at his partner's sarcastic tone. 

"...You don't need to be such a bitch, Elliott." 

"And you don't need to be such a jackass," the trickster replied, with a shrug. "But here we are." 

Octavio shifted his weight around uncomfortably. 

"Mira...I get that you're pissed but-." 

"I don't think you get it at all, Octavio. I don't think you ever did." 

It was only now, Elliott had chosen to look at him directly and his glare, along with the use of his full name, made the speedster shiver. A smart person would have kept their mouth shut, knowing that maybe now wasn't the best time to poke the bear; but unfortunately, Octavio Silva wasn't known for his smarts. 

"I don't understand what you mean." 

Elliott directed his attention away from him, opting to focus his gaze on a spot on the wall, that wasn't particularly interesting. His shaking hands were forced into closed fists that came to rest in his lap, while he tried to shift through the mess of thoughts that had plagued his mind all night. 

"You don't understand?" he retaliated quietly, but the anger and hurt in his voice was still obvious. "Fine. Let me tell you what I don't understand." 

Octavio struggled to sit up, against the aches in his body, managing to reach out to his boyfriend, but he was promptly shrugged off. Elliott didn't look at him as he continued to speak, keeping his gaze trained on the wall ahead of him. 

"First of all, I don't understand how my boyfriend got himself a date with someone else and agreed to go." 

"That was a misunder-." 

"And then decided to go into another dimension alone, because he couldn't take a joke. Oh, and on top of that, he decided to leave a note for...Oh, hmm...who was it again? Oh, yeah. Not me!" 

"I wanted Ajay to know what she said wasn't cool," the runner mumbled, and he could tell, without looking, that Elliott was rolling his eyes. "She hurt my feelings. Why doesn't anyone care about that?" 

"What about my feelings?!" the trickster spat, whipping his head around to glare at him again. "How do you think I felt, finding you almost dead?! You don't care about my feelings or...me." 

"That's not true!" Octavio protested. "Of course I care about you. I thought...I thought I was dead out there. And I always thought I'd be okay with dying, as long as I was doing something awesome, but when I was lying there and...I saw all my blood, I wasn't thinking about myself. I was thinking about you, and how I never got to-." 

"Bullshit," Elliott cut him off, harshly. "I don't believe that. All you care about is...doing crazy shit and...and causing trouble." 

"You know, you really sound like my dad right now," Octavio spoke, receiving a less than amused laugh in response. 

"Yeah, well...Maybe your dad was right." 

"Don't say that," the runner replied, narrowing his eyes in disgust. "Don't ever say that." 

Elliott ran a frustrated hand through his hair, emitting a sigh that didn't sound as angry as his words; it sounded sad...defeated. His eyes returned to that spot on the wall, that Octavio was slowly becoming envious of. He hated when Elliott acted like this, but he hated the words that came out of his mouth more. 

"I don't think...I can do this anymore." 

The room fell silent, save for the dripping of a tap somewhere in the background. Octavio didn't know what to say. He couldn't be serious. There was no way this was happening. No. This was a joke. A misunderstanding. Elliott had it all wrong. He just needed to show him that. Ignoring the pain he was in, the best he could, he reached towards his partner. His fingers came to rest on the back of his neck, a touch Elliott leaned into instinctively. He looked at him confused, and his lips parted to say something but before he could get his words out, Octavio closed the distance between them, kissing him with a softness he didn’t even know he had in him. Elliott kissed him back for a split second, but just as quickly as it happened, it stopped. The trickster pulled away abruptly and stood from the bed, with misty eyes. 

"You can't...you can't do that!" 

"I can, because I don't believe what you're saying is true! I love you!" 

Elliott shook his head harshly, as if he was trying to rid his mind of an intrusive thought. 

"I...You're making it r-really hard for me to keep loving you. I can't live like this. It’s too hard. You’re...too much." 

Octavio's mouth went dry, as his heart rate quickened, and pounded in his ears. 

"No! You...you love me! I know you do! You tell me all the time! I'll...I'll change." 

"You always say that but, it never happens," the trickster spoke, his voice barely a whisper, desperately trying to not let his tears spill. "I'm...tired, Tav. I think you should stay with Ajay for a while. I...need time to think." 

The speedster raised a pierced eyebrow at him. 

"You seriously think she's gonna let me stay with her after this?" 

Elliott folded his arms, and looked to the floor, letting out an exasperated sigh. 

"I don't know. And to be honest...I don't really care." 

"That's not true." 

His heart twinged when the trickster turned his back on him. 

"Amor...you don't really mean that. Right?" 

He didn't like how long it took Elliott to answer. 

"I'm gonna go home. I need to lie down for a while." 

"What about me?" the speedster asked tentatively, already afraid of the answer he might receive. 

"I'm sure you'll figure something out," Elliott replied, his tone painfully neutral, as he began to walk away. "You always do." 

Octavio looked around frantically, wanting nothing more than to follow his boyfriend and convince him to stay, but as his hazel eyes continued to dart around the room he realised something that made his stomach pool with dread; his legs were nowhere to be seen. 

"Elliott, please!" he yelled after him, and it must have sounded desperate because it made the trickster pause in the doorway, giving him a slight feeling of hope. "Please don't go! I love you! I love you so much and...and I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I won't do it again! I'll do anything you want just...please don't go. Don't leave. I don't want to be on my own again. I want to be with you. Please. I'm so sorry for messing everything up all the time. Really, I...I’m...I'm sorry." 

He looked up to see Elliott resting on hand against the doorframe, as if he was trying to steady himself, but even with the distance between them, Octavio could see the tear trails on his cheeks and he knew this was it; It was over because he'd ruined it, like everything else he ever touched. But the look Elliott was giving him was the final nail in the coffin. His usually bright brown eyes were full of pain and anger and betrayal. 

"Not as sorry, as I am," he eventually said, causing the younger legend to shake his head in denial, while his own hot tears spilled down his freckled cheeks. 

"Why are you sorry?" he asked, through choked sobs.

He regretted asking now, and he would regret it until his dying day, because he knew Elliott's response would never leave him alone; like a painful, constant ringing in his ears. 

"For letting you waste my time."

[ubernoxa]

The Token: A GNR FanFic

Chapter 4: The First Gig

Story Summary: Story inspired by the movie She’s the Man. A female Duff is tired of dealing with the bullshit of trying to make it on the strip as a female bassist.

Chapter Summary: Michelle is worried that Izzy will reveal her secret about her being Duff. Free coffee, and their first gig as Guns N’ Roses!

Masterlist

Taglist: @viralwolf02 @littlemisscare-all @smokeandmirrorz @aratbaby

Please let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list or if I forgot to add you. (I’m not the best with tag lists

Author’s Note: sorry this chapter is kinda long, but I didn’t want to beak it into two smaller chapters.

Chapter 4

I balanced the coffee as I quickly knocked on the door of the Hell House as the guys called it. Axl had arranged a band meeting for god knows what reason this morning before our first gig. As I peaked into the windows, I quickly realized there was no movement inside. So much for our morning meeting, the guys were probably still asleep.

Things had been going pretty well this past week, not to brag or anything. It was probably one of the more stressful weeks in my life with the pressure of a gig around the corner. Lucky for me most of songs were covers I had played before, and the guys helped me with any originals. I would be lying if I said Macy didn’t pound on my bedroom door telling me to stop in the middle of the night. She would always look at me like a crazy person when she told me to stop and quizzed me on why I wasn’t sleeping. I always shrugged and said I wanted to be ready for the gig. I didn’t want to let my band down; however, that was only part of the reason. I never told her about Izzy. It had been a week since Izzy had casually dropped the bomb that he knew that I was masquerading as a guy.Since that day he hasn’t brought it up. Even after spending over 8 hours a day practicing, he didn’t say a word about it. If we talked, it was about music or tweaks we could make to sound better. He was a good musician, he really had an ear for it. All of them did actually, I was lucky they chose me.

“Mornin,” I was met with a very tired Izzy. He held the door open for me as I walked in quickly realizing that there was no way we were going to have a meeting in a couple minutes.

I walked into the living room and set the coffees down on the nearest flat surface I could find. I felt a flash a relief flow through me as the drinks safely made it to their destination. I had spent the last Thierry minutes of my very boring shift making them.

“They’re labeled, I’m assuming you know what your name is?” I said before plopping down on the couch.

“Any reason for the...” Izzy gestured towards the coffee what was sitting on the table nearby.

“Michelle was working this morning and wanted to treat the band with something nice because morning meetings suck...especially if Axl arranged the meeting,” I causally responded trying to keep up my act.

“Is she coming to the gig tonight? I’d love to thank her in person,” I rolled my eyes at his comment and sent him my best ‘are you serious look?’ earning a quiet chuckle from him.

I watched from the corner of my eye to see if I got his order right. I watched as he smiled after taking the sip.

“How many people know?” His question shouldn’t have caught me off guard but it did none the less.

“Depends,” my answer was short in hopes that he would drop it. Inside the house where the rest of the band was currently sleeping wasn’t the ‘ideal’ place to have this conversation.

“Depends on what?”

“On how many people you have told.”

“I’ve told no one,” his answer caught me off guard as I raised a brow.

“Really? Not even your Indiana brother?” This earned another laugh from him as he shook his head no.

“Do people seriously call us that?”

“That’s how I was introduced to y’all. I believe it went something like ‘and those pair of dicks right there are Axl and Izzy. Don’t waste your words on them. The redhead will get pissy no matter what you say, and I highly doubt the other would even pay attention.” I took another sip remembering Derek from my last band Double Dead introducing them to me them as if I hadn’t known who Izzy and Axl were. After a while on the strip you learn who’s who rather quickly. The main question was if what you learn about a person was the truth. Word of mouth was a dangerous thing

“Wow that’s harsh,” part of me felt bad for Izzy and I honestly should have left that out the last part.

“Well that’s when I was apart Double Dead, which looking back was a shifty band name. If I remembered correctly later that evening after the gig you guys beat the living shout out of my band,” I couldn’t help but check at how much of a train wreck that night was.

“That was the night you got me good with your bass!” I smiled as his laughed quickly joined mine.

“So you did recognize my bass! It was the dent wasn’t it?”

“How could I forget the bass that got me in the side of the head. Not every day does a chick beat you with her bass. Left a bruise for a month.”

“Well...in my defense I was aiming for Axl...sorry,” I felt bad remembering that night.

“No need to apologize, pretty sure Axl started the fight.”

“Little Axl Rose? Him? Noo....he would NEVER start a fight,” I teased back. It was moments like this regret flooded me. What if I came to them as Michelle instead of Duff? How different would things had been?

“What’s in this?” Izzy pulled me from my thoughts and back to reality as he spoke.

“Just like a magician, a barista never revels her secret,” I teased as I tried to hide the smile that was growing like a weed on my face.

My original plan was to make black coffee’s for everyone, but I knew Steven wouldn’t like it. Once I started making Steven’s, I thought why not make the rest of the guys a personal cup.

“You still mad at Axl?”

“No, why?” I turned my attention back towards Izzy as he spoke.

“The small cup, I’m assuming it’s for Axl because he called Michelle a mediocre bassist,” I shook my head and couldn’t help the laughter escape my lips.

“The small cup is for Steven. The last thing that boy needs is a lot of caffeine,” this time it was Izzy’s laughter that filled the room.

“If I....Michelle...wanted to mess with Axl, she would have put milk that was beyond spoiled and mixed in vanilla and berry flavors to mask it. It would give him the runs without knowing what caused it!” I stared in a matter of fact tone. I’m not saying it’s a prank I’ve pulled on my oldest sister, I’m just saying I didn’t not do it. Plus she had it coming.

His laughter filled the room again, “noted”

“What do we have here?” Slash asked looking at the coffee cups sitting on the table.

“Coffee, each of them are apparently different. Yours has your name on it,” Izzy said

“What’s mine?”

“Medium roast with cream,” I quickly responded earning a glare from Izzy.

“Not too bad,” he shrugged before joining us on the couches.

“How come he gets to know, but I don’t?” I had to mask the smile of my face with a shrug. He had made me feel like I was walking on glass, afraid he would tell the guys I’m actually a girl, all week. This wasn’t on the same level, but it made me feel like for once I had an upper hand. (Even though it was only coffee)

“I can’t remember? Plus Michelle is the one who made them anyway,” I raised my arms in defense never breaking eye contact.

“You dating her or some shit like that,” I watched as Izzy immediately took a sip of his coffee to hide his smirk.

“No, why?” I was frozen as I tried to understand his logic.

“Well she’s kinda acting like a groupie...”

“Who’s acting like a groupie?” Steven popped into the room like the morning sun.

“Michelle,” Izzy responded. I hated how much he was enjoying this. He was enjoying watching me squirm.

“Kinda tall, brunette, bassist, nice legs?” Slash asked with Steven quickly nodding.

I continued to drink my coffee wishing that I could turn invisible. This felt weird. I felt like I should leave the room or something.

“You should invite her to the gig tonight,” Steven’s heart was in the right place and what he was trying to do was sweet, but I wanted him the shut the fuck up. There was a small logistics problem with Duff inviting Michelle to the gig.

“Yeah! We can thank her for the coffee after the gig,” I glared at Izzy as he spoke. He was enjoying this. That bastard...

“I doubt she’ll come,” I shot back at Izzy.

“Who won’t come?,” by now Axl had finally made it down to the living room. He quickly grabbed the last coffee. Why the hell was everyone waking up NOW.

“Michelle, the bassist” I shot back.

I watched as a smirk formed on his face before he took a quick sip of his coffee, “Yeah, she ain’t coming. She’ll probably avoid Guns N’ Roses like the plague. Especially after what happened with Pixie and Double Dead.”

I prayed he wouldn’t elaborate what happened with Pixie. He could talk about Double Dead all he wanted. Pixie though, Pixie was another story.

————————-

“Stop being such a girl Duff, your hair looks fine,” I sent Izzy a glare from across the room. I could tell he was all too happy with his comment. That bastard had been teasing me all week, and aI was getting sick and tired of it.

“If anyone is the girl here it’s Axl,”

“It’s called Glam Slash!” By now Axl was standing where I was only moments ago applying some additional eyeshadow.

“How many cans of hairspray did you have to steal to get your hair to stick like that,” Izzy said above the laughter.

Axl’s hair resembled a lion’s mane. It was impressive and I was beyond jealous. I wished I hadn’t cut off most of my hair, so I could recreate his hairstyle.

“You’re just jealous! Chicks dig the big hair!” He shot back at Izzy.

“He’s not wrong,” I couldn’t help but smirk as I spoke, my voice barely auditable over the noise of the bar. Izzy just rolled his eyes and went back to messing with his guitars.

“You’re on in 5,” a man yelled into our tiny room causing all of my nerves to flood my body. That’s when I realized it had been months since I had performed on stage. I could already feel my palms getting sweaty as I sat down next to Steven. I could feel him watching me as I wiped my hands against my pants.

I felt him pat my back causing me to look up at him. “No need to be nervous. You’ll kick ass out there.”

I sent him a fake smile which he obviously didn’t by. “Dude, Duff, you’ll be fine. Plus it’s always good to be nervous!”

“Why would I want to be nervous? That’s when you make mistakes?” I shot back. Steven is a great guy, but sometimes I don’t understand what he’s getting at.

“Being nervous just means you care. Plus it’s your first show on the strip! You’ll love it! The energy is incomparable!” There was some sort of sparkle in Steven’s eyes that was uplifting. It was like a child talking about all of the candy they got on Halloween.

“Here,” I looked up to Izzy who handed me a shot.

“It will help, and if it doesn’t we have plenty more,” I nodded and took the shot from him and held back a cough as the burn traveled down my throat.

I earned a cheer from Steven and Slash passed me my bass.

“Alright boys lets go kick some ass and show them a show they won’t forget!” Axl yelled right before they walked onto the stage.

And kick ass we did! Despite Axl hating snakes, his dancing reminded me of some type of rattlesnake. It was pretty entertaining to watch, but Slash running around the stage like a mad man was even better. After our third song in the set, I quickly followed Slash’s insanity. The entire performance felt like a breath of fresh air, and the moment I stepped off of the stage I wanted to get right back up there. It just felt right. We clicked. I had lost tracks of the amount of times I have performed on a stage, but I have NEVER felt anything like I felt tonight. This was something special. Maybe this was the band that would make it. Maybe?

Steven raised a bottle of god know what and cheered, “To Duff, no longer a Sunset Strip virgin.” Cheering and laughter filled the room as he spoke. I knew what he was getting at, but there were thousands of better ways to phrase it.

“I’m gonna go for a smoke,” I said before stumbling towards the door. The air outside was more refreshing than the cold beer and vodka I had been drinking since the gig was over.

“Congrats,” I turned to see Izzy standing in the doorway.

“Same to you,” I smiled.

“Well I wasn’t a Sunset Strip virgin before the show so...” I glared at Izzy only for a second before I join in his laughter at what Steven had said earlier.

“How much has he had to drink? Because I don’t think he thought that last sentence through,” I joked back.

“Good thing you aren’t a girl; otherwise, his statement would have been taken into an entirely different context. Very inappropriate,” Izzy cooly replied earning a small chuckle from me. Guy’s minds are all the same.

“I was worried Steven was going to fall out of his seat while he was playing earlier,” I said in hopes of changing the subject.

“That’s popcorn for ya!” He offered me a smile before he went back to smoking.

After several moments of uncomfortable silence, I added “And for someone who hates snakes, Axl sure dances like one.”

Izzy nodded apparently keen on not wanting to have a conversation. Fine then, awkward silence it was. I still needed the fresh air to help me sober up a little. I closed my eyes and focused on the sounds of the strip and the refreshing cold air.

“You never answered my question earlier,” Izzy stared snapping me back.

“Which one?”

“The one about who knows about your secret,” he replied earning a small ‘ohhh’ from me.

“At least four people know. You, Macy, Walter, and Betsie,” I replied.

“How’d Betsie find out?”

“She saw my face,” I shrugged as I spoke to him. It was inevitable. I was originally hoping I could hide behind my hair, but Macy cut it just a tad too short, so I was wearing sunglasses.

“You do have a unique face,” I shot him a confused look. Was that supposed to be a compliment or insult? I just shook my head and decided against pressing further.

“So what’s the plan?” I turned to Izzy as he once again broke the silence and pulled me out of my thoughts.

“Plan for what?”

“You can’t remain a guy forever. You’re a chick, eventually you’re going to have to reveal that,” he turned towards me as he stomped out his cigarettes

“When we get our record deal or first tour.”

“When? Wow someone’s getting cocky,” Izzy shot back.

“Did you feel it?” My voice was barely louder than a mouse as I spoke.

“Feel what?”

“I don’t know Izzy, it’s hard to describe. But when we were playing I felt something. Yeah, we had a small crowd, but I felt something I’ve never felt before!”

“Yeah, I felt it too, but be careful we already have one cocky bastard in the band, we don’t need a second.”

“Yeah...yeah...”

More silence followed.

“Is it weird, preforming as Duff?”

I sent Izzy a small smiled and shook my head yes.

“It’s like a mask I put on. When I’m on stage playing, I’m always Michelle. There is no changing who I am inside. Whenever I look in the mirror or play Guns N’ Roses songs it feels weird. Guns an’ Roses is Duff’s,” I took relief as I said those words out loud.

“I like your hair by the way. The brown part that you didn’t dye, it’s kinda poetic. Even though you put on this show that you’re Duff, Michelle is still there,” Izzy said before turning to head back inside.

“Hey Iz, how do you think the guys would react if I told them....” my heart sunk the moment my eyes met his.

[writing-the-end]

WS Chapter 45- Runaways

Previous Chapter

Masterpost

Oof...this chapter hits in the feels. I’d say in our hero’s journey, this is the wanderers’ lowest moment, their abyss. I just want them to be friends, but also....angst. This chapter has a song I highly recommend- Runaways (Wild Culture Remix) by Sam Feldt & Deepend ft. Teemu. 

Red belongs to @theguardiansofredland​

Ecto belongs to @cooler-cactus-block

Ecto has been to places she’s never seen before since she met Red and Avon. Her whole life was spent in the massive desert she called home. She knew other biomes existed from the stories held within dusty old tomes and even dustier old traders. But she never felt the need to leave the comfort, the safety of the desert. It had everything she knew, everything she needed. When everyone and everything else abandoned her, the resilient sand and cactus stayed. She didn’t want to go on this adventure at first.

But with everything she’s seen, everything she’s experienced, she couldn’t think of anything better than the journey they’ve taken. Ecto has seen places she could never imagine, colors she could never dream of. Forests with trees so tall they scrape the sky, or so thick they block out the sun. There was the mesa, rusty sand and the first time Ecto had been able to collect cactus in what felt like forever. To feel the tough skin and sharp spines, the crunch and pop as she bit into one. Ecto also saw an ocean for the first time. She still can’t wrap her mind around so much water, just sitting there. Undrinkable. And that Red grew up in all of that. She saw snow fall, both beautiful and deadly. Soft and Sharp. 

Since they left Red’s home, she’s seen even more. Thin, spindly bamboo growing from the edges of a thick, vibrant forest. Similar to what they saw in the hermit world. Stony shores and mountains that the wanderers had to clamber and climb through. Well, most of them- Avon would simply fly over and wait for them. Birch forests with trees who haunted white trunks in the shadows of night.

And each night, Ecto can only think of the hellspawns. Questions fill her mind, concerns fill her stomach. Why do they attack the wanderers? What have they done to cause all this? What are they planning? How did they even get it to snow in a desert? Is her desert still covered in snow? Will it ever be the same again? She’s concerned for her home, for her cacti. She’s concerned that the hellspawns are only growing stronger with each minute they continue to run. Continue to avoid the problem. Fleeing with their heads bowed and tails tucked. 

The campfire blazes bright, casting tall, menacing shadows across the dark, thick oak trees. Shadows lengthen across Avon’s stormy face, darkening her sharp purple eyes as she leans into the warmth. She hardly talks anymore, and anything she does say is short and to the point. She only responds when necessary. Red told Ecto that she acted this way when they first met. Cold, dark, silent. Always within her own mind, separate from reality. Separate from the other wanderers. 

Red stands up from her seat next to Ecto, footsteps shuffling across the dead detritus. She sits down next to Avon, and scoots into Avon’s wingspan. Her voice is a cautious whisper, rising slowly from her lips. “Avon? When we get the egg back do you think they’d like it if I read them stories? Did Jeane like stories?” 

Avon’s eyes squeeze shut, a grimace morphing the shadows on her face to look demonic. But both Red and Ecto know never to call Avon the m-word. Avon swallows down her emotions. “Jeane loved stories.” 

Red grins, poking at the campfire with a stick. Watching the flames dance and embers flare into the sky. “When we get the egg, I’m going to tell it a story every night.” 

“How do you know we’re getting it back?” Avon’s voice cracks at the question. She wants to believe that they’ll get Jeane’s baby back, she really does. But false hope will get them nowhere. Avon immediately wishes she could take her words back when she sees Red’s face. It looks like she just slapped him, ran her trident through his heart. 

“The longer we wait, the less likely we’ll be able to get it back” Ecto hisses, looking across the fire at Red and Avon. It was always them two, with Ecto tacked on. They started this journey together, and they always seemed to side with each other. Even when Ecto’s ideas were employed, they were always strange to them. They probably wouldn’t notice if Ecto disappeared. They’d be happy to have a weirdo gone. 

Red’s lip quivers, not wanting to think of the dragon egg being destroyed. An egg a thousand years waiting, a thousand years of love and care and devotion by it’s late mother. To think that it could be killed, all that work dashed away. And a life lost. Red has seen too much death these past few weeks. He’s not sure if he could handle any more. 

“Rushing into the nether will only get us killed as well as kill the egg. They’re baiting us.” Avon’s wings don’t rise like they normally do, trying to make herself bigger. They tuck closer to her body, becoming defensive. Pulling Avon’s flat hair taught, the constant running of her fingers through the curls taming the gilded mane. Red’s cheeks grow rosy, holding back the whimper rising in her throat. She doesn’t want to die. 

“We’re only pushing off the inevitable. For all we know, that egg is already crushed and they’re just sharpening their blades to come for us next! We’re strong enough to take those hellspawns on, if we work together!” Ecto stands to her feet, her brown hood falling free of her head, her chocolate hair curling free from her. Pointing out like spines of a cactus. The orange firelight and her orange scarves burn bright together, fabric dancing with the flame in her eyes. A weak gasp and a few wet streaks escape from Red. Both of these options are horrible, the dangers and demises they pose. 

Avon rises, pulling her trident free from its sheath between her wings. She’s feared exactly what Ecto says, the same thoughts plaguing her head every night. Chasing away sleep. But to hear it spoken aloud…

Ecto’s blade rises, but less for a fight and more for defense. She’s tired of always having to prove herself, always being the scapegoat to other people. The problem, the issue at hand. She doesn’t want to fight Avon, she doesn’t want to hurt her friend. But at this point, she just wants to prove she’s right. They’re ready to take on the nether. That with their fighting skills, they could take on anything. 

Red squeaks, falling off her perch on the log as Avon lunges, and the two clash once more. It’s been a long time since she’s seen such anger, such fever in her friends’ eyes. They’ve dueled, practicing against one another. Training to be stronger. And they’ve fought side by side, tooth and nail to keep each other alive. But as blood is drawn, sizzling against the burning wood, Red knows one thing. 

All their progress has been lost. Weeks and months of bonding, of working together and learning to understand one another is falling apart. They’re being torn at the seams, becoming people they’ve never been before. Avon’s become irrational, Ecto has become strategic, and Red? 

Red has become angry. He watches blood fall from a cut on Avon’s cheek, a slash on Ecto’s arm. Ecto tackles Avon to the ground, grabbing at her cloak and using it for leverage. Avon opens her wings, knocking herself free of Ecto. The two clash, wounding each other more and more. They’re a perfect match in battle, all the time training. They know each other’s strengths and weaknesses. Ecto won’t back down from a fight. Avon won’t quit until she’s unconscious or dead. Red’s friends won’t stop until they’ve proven themselves. 

Prove themselves with what? 

Ecto’s teeth and blade grind, metal against metal and tooth against tooth. It’s a pushing match between the two, focused on outmatching the other. So when Red’s voice shouts over the scraping blades, it surprises both of them. “Would you two both just fucking stop for once? Don’t you two idiots see this is what they want? They’re tearing us apart, they’re winning! And you two are letting them! Those stupid hellspawns don’t have to do a thing, because you’ll rip each other apart for them!” 

Ecto and Avon look away from their fight, to Red. Tears fall across a face marred by anger, by frustration boiling over. Red’s patience has worn thin, and is ripping apart before their very eyes. “We have been through so much together, we have dealt with so much bullshit. We have gone through so much and you two are letting those assholes tear us apart!” 

They both retreat their weapons. Red wipes the rivers of pain from her cheeks, a strangled cry popping all her resolve. She takes one, two, three steps back, before turning. Disappearing into the night, into the thick forest. 

You finally did it. Good job, Ecto, you finally got them to run from you. Ecto takes her own step back, watching Avon grow distant both physically and emotionally. She wipes the blood off her face. Ecto feels an ache in her chest, like being shot in the heart by a poison arrow. People yelled at Ecto before, but none of them hurt like Red’s shouts just did. She tested the patience of his tolerance, and now suffers the consequences. 

Ecto hears Avon’s wings open, a few flaps before hovering in the sky just above the thick canopy. Alone again. Abandoned, cast out. Just like always, the people she called friends have left. Things never change, as sure as the setting sun. 

She nearly jumps out of her skin when Avon returns to the ground. Actually speaks to her. “I think I saw Red. We need to find him.” 

At least he can help them before they leave. “Where’d he go?” 

Avon points her trident to the north, thrusting it deep into the dark oak shadows. “Towards a mansion. Deep in the woods.”

[daylilysirius]

Arms Unfolding: Year Four

A/N: part four! sorry it took so long but hopefully the word count makes up for it lol. I don’t really have a schedule for this anymore, hopefully I can update it every two weeks at least but with my irl work being so hectic atm I can’t really make any promises :( but hey, we’re halfway through and you guys are still liking it and that’s all I could ask for really! enjoy <3

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Slytherin! Reader

Warnings: angst, swearing, Draco being Draco, fluff if you’re patient...

Word count: 2793

The summer had dragged on even longer than usual. Your bad mood probably made matters worse, but you were desperately trying to avoid even thinking about Draco so you busied yourself with studying and any other household tasks you could set your mind to. Your holiday with your parents was fun and you went to the Quidditch World Cup with your friends but yours and Draco’s argument seemed to slip itself to the forefront of your mind whenever you had a free moment, so more than anything you were just tired. Tired of overthinking, tired of Draco’s ignorance, tired of missing him.

Your heart had plummeted when you came home and your father informed you that you had all been invited to the Malfoy’s residence for dinner the following evening. You hadn’t told them about what had happened between you and Draco, you didn’t want them to pry, so you had no choice but to put on a brave face as you took your mothers hand and apparated to Malfoy Manor.

If anyone knew about the animosity between Draco and yourself they didn’t mention it. Nobody seemed to notice that neither of you were your usual chatty selves, or that you weren’t sharing silly looks or jokes across the table. Clearly, they thought that just this once you were both riveted by your fathers’ discussions about the goings on at the ministry. You both sat in silence, avoiding each other’s gaze like it was the plague and doing a good job of it too, that was until Lucius started discussing the upcoming school year.

“The Yule Ball is coming up, what with it being the year of the Triwizard Tournament and all… Draco and Y/N should go together, don’t you think?”

Your head shot up, finally facing Draco as your parents nodded and hummed in approval. He was peering at you cautiously, as if he was waiting for you to make a fuss but you stayed quiet. He wasn’t going to get a rise out of you, especially not now.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you Y/N?” Your father asked.

You plastered on the most convincing smile you could whilst still looking Draco dead in the eyes, “More than anything.”

He huffed a quiet, disbelieving laugh but everybody was already too engrossed in their own conversation to notice. Draco leant back in his chair, arms folded across his chest as he continued to stare at you. Your parents’ chatter about finding complimentary attire and which colours suited the pair of you was drowned out as you glared back at him. If the cruel smirk hadn’t spread across his face when he realized you were calling his bluff and not backing down you would’ve thought that his eyes almost looked apologetic.

The weeks leading up to the Yule Ball were dreadful. You and Draco were still barely speaking, the most interaction you had being exchanging letters from your parents so you both knew what arrangements were being made. To put it simply you were miserable. It was only made worse when Dean had asked you to the ball and your only response was to start uncontrollably sobbing. In the end Hermione had to come and take you somewhere quiet, and after she had reassured you several times that your little outburst wouldn’t scar poor Dean for life you were forced to tell her about your whole predicament.

“You don’t have to stay with him the whole night, just for a dance or two. I’m sure Victor won’t mind you dancing with us, and Ron and Harry will be there too!”

“That’s hardly the point though, is it?” You sniffed.

She gave you a sad smile, understanding completely. You always told her the things Draco would say as it didn’t seem right to keep it from her, and even though he was so horrible to her at times she would still let you drone on and on about how he isn’t really a terrible person. At least not in your eyes.

“Boys, eh?” Hermione joked.

You gave a short, breathy laugh in response, “who can live with them?”

“Are you going to sulk all night?” Draco murmured in your ear during the second dance of the evening. He sounded bored already.

You huffed and pulled back to scowl at him, “if you’re going to keep being a dick then yes.”

He snorted before twirling you round to the rhythm of the music.

“I don’t know why you’re making me out to be the bad guy, Y/N.”

“You know exactly why, Malfoy.”

He sighed back at you, accepting his defeat and staying quiet for the rest of the song. The music died down and you went to pull back from him but he dragged you back gently. You shot him a confused glare and he sighed again before muttering almost inaudibly, “You look really nice tonight by the way.”

A shy smile spread across his face at you being visibly taken aback.

“T-thanks?”

He shrugged as his cheeks turned rosy, “fancy a drink?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “let’s get a drink.”

You let him take your hand and lead you over to the buffet table and the hour and a half that followed almost made up for the frosty beginning. He definitely wasn’t forgiven but you figured if everyone else could have some carefree fun for a few hours then why couldn’t you? There was no point in you both being miserable when everybody else was having a good time, so you danced and laughed as if nothing had ever happened. He even sat and joked with Victor for a bit whilst you danced with Dean, who would hear nothing of the profuse apologies you kept trying to give him, and then Hermione in turn. It was nice. Fun, even. Much more fun than you had been anticipating. 

That was until Harry came over and asked you for a dance. You had been sitting next to Draco at the time, his arm slung lazily around your waist as he chatted with Blaise. His grip instantly tightened when Harry had come over but you thought nothing of it. You didn’t even notice the fiery look in his eyes as you took Harry’s hand so he could pull you over to the dance floor. Not until Draco stalked over barely halfway through the song and uttered a stern “Can I interrupt?”

Harry shot you a confused glance but didn’t protest as Draco began leading you away.

“What is your problem?” he hissed as you both swayed half-heartedly to the beat.

“What is my problem?” you replied, “You’re the one who just barged over, I wasn’t doing anything wrong!”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes as if that was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard.

“You’re here with me, the least you could do is not drool all over Harry for the evening.”

“We were just dancing, Draco! He’s my friend, I’m allowed to spend time with him. I’m not your property!”

“Just your ‘friend’?” Draco mocked.

“Yes. Just my friend. Not that it’s your business either way.” You withdrew your hands from him and crossed them over your chest. You should’ve known that tonight was a mistake, Draco’s pride would always come before anything else, even you. You were foolish to have ever thought otherwise.

“You still haven’t learnt, have you? Your friend is a blood traitor, just like the rest of his little gang. I would say being around them is beneath you but I suppose you’re just like him now. You and your little mudblood best friend-”

Draco’s cruel speech was cut short by your hand colliding with his cheek. A few quiet gasps and giggles radiated from the small crowd that was drawn as a result. He looked back up at you blankly, his resolve was almost broken by the tears threatening to spill from your eyes, but then he remembered where he was. He couldn’t show any weakness here.

“Just like her.” He sneered, and with that you turned and began striding towards the door. You couldn’t be here anymore.

“Y/N!” Draco called out, following you out of the great hall, “don’t walk away from me!”

“Why not, Draco?! So you can taunt me and my friends some more? So you can project all your bullshit prejudices onto me?”

Hermione, Harry and Ron had followed you out and were watching on in silence as you and Draco stood a few stair widths apart, entirely unphased by any onlookers.

“I’m trying to help you!” he yelled back.

“No, no you’re not!” you laughed in disbelief, “you’re trying to shove your family’s insane beliefs down my throat! Just because somebody’s different to you it doesn’t make them any lesser, Draco!”

You could no longer hold back the tears and they flowed freely down your cheeks. Draco inched forward slightly but then froze, as if he was going to wipe them away but then thought better of it. Instead you both stood on the stairs, your eyes trained on his face whilst his were suddenly very interested in his shoes.

“You know… I loved you,” Your voice was barely above a whisper but Draco still sprung to life, wide eyed and mouth open in a silent gasp at your words.

“Loved? Past tense?” He all but choked out, his own eyes becoming glassy.

“Yeah. Past tense.” Your body stiffened, “I don’t know who you are anymore. Why don’t you go and dance with Pansy instead, I’m sure she isn’t as much of a disappointment to ‘your kind’ as I am.”

You turned and left him there. A rogue, unwelcomed tear falling down his own cheek.

Evidently, that year had started as it had meant to go on for you. You hadn’t known Cedric all that well, having only spoken to him at various quidditch events but he was always kind to you. His death had rocked the entire school. Your sadness was only made worse when the students from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons went home. You had spent the majority of time since the ball with your friends from the visiting schools. They didn’t care about Hogwarts gossip and whilst yours and Draco’s little fiasco was still a hot topic for many of your classmates you very much appreciated the fact that your visitors turned a blind eye to it all and cared for you despite the turbulent year you had all had.

You sat at the top of the astronomy tower looking out at the castle grounds. You liked it up here, it was peaceful despite all the whirling in your brain. One of the bigger turmoil’s being that you had actually told Draco you loved him. Christ. Why did you do that? It was bad enough that you had caused a scene in front of not only your entire school but two others as well, let alone the fact that you had actually admitted you loved the guy who you had been crushing on for four damn years.

You hung your head in embarrassment as you fiddled with the laces on your shoes. You still weren’t quite sure if you were more embarrassed about the fact that, yes, you were in love with Draco Malfoy in the first place or the fact that you had told him at the worst possible time. You knew that in a lot of ways you shouldn’t be in love with a guy like that. He was mean and bigoted and didn’t care about who he hurt. But you knew a side of Draco that nobody else saw. One that was humble and thoughtful and loving. But would he ever let go of his pride long enough to show the rest of the world that side?

A sharp cough startled you from your thoughts. Draco stood a few feet away, hands dug deep in his pockets and an almost guilty expression etched upon his face. It made him look almost identical to the 13-year-old who had tackled your books from you in second year just to get you to speak to him. It would have been sweet if it wasn’t another reminder of how he still couldn’t grow up.

“Can I sit here?” He nodded towards the space next to you. You shrugged but said nothing so cautiously, as if you might turn around and hex him at any minute, he came to sit cross-legged to your right. You sat like that for a few minutes. Neither of you daring to look at the other. The only sound being Draco’s occasional huffing, you guessed he was trying to think what to say but was not coming up with anything good enough.

“Why are you here, Draco?” You finally asked.

His head whipped round, like he couldn’t believe you had actually uttered words to him, “I… I uh… Blaise told me you were here.”

“That’s how you got here, not why.”

He sighed before heaving a large breath. If you couldn’t tell any better you would think that he was anxious.

“I wanted to apologise – and before you say anything!” You had laughed and opened your mouth to retort but he stopped you, “please, just let me say what I need to say.”

You looked at him curiously for a few moments before nodding your acceptance.

“Okay.” Draco took another big breath, “Here it goes. I know that you have shown me nothing but kindness since we met, even at times that I didn’t deserve it, and I appreciate that more than you know. More than I show you. You were right. You defended me against everything and everyone no matter what, and I… I took advantage of that.” He looked up like he was expecting you to interrupt but you just motioned for him to keep going.

“I expected you to see things from my perspective but never extended that courtesy to you. I should have tried harder to do that. I’ve never had a friend who actually cares for me the way you do, one that actually wants the best for me and I guess… I guess I just didn’t know how to deal with that. And the things I say about your friends, I’m sure they say similar things about me, not that that makes it okay but we’re just never going to get on. But I am sorry about the things I said and I promise that this time I really will try to do better.” He turned to you again with a hopeful look in his eye, you gave him a small smile which promoted him on even further.

“And with – with Harry. The things I said at the ball weren’t true and that’s not why I was upset. I was upset because he is the kind of person you deserve, you know? He doesn’t hurt you the way I do, and I know that, and it makes me jealous.”

You looked at him quizzically, “Jealous?”

Draco sighed, “Yeah. For a long time, I thought it was just because you were my friend but it’s not… like I said he is the kind of guy you deserve so when he danced with you at the ball, and you looked so happy, I just saw red. Because I… I want to be that guy.”

“What do you mean?” You murmured, wide eyes trained on Draco’s pale face. He looked very nervous and just a little… hopeful.

“I’m in love with you.” He whispered, “and when you said you loved me at the ball, past tense… it hurt so much I didn’t know what to do with myself. I love you Y/N, and I want to be a guy that is worthy of you to love, to love in the present, if you’ll let me?”

The hopeful glint in his eyes grew despite your bewildered expression. You had just gone through about twenty emotions in two minutes. Draco loved you. Your Draco. He actually loved you back.

“Of course, if you don’t want to I completely understand, I just –”

You cut him off by pulling him into a bone-crushing hug and he chuckled lightly as he cradled you head against his shoulder.

“I love you, Y/N. And I’m sorry for everything.”

“I love you too, Draco.”

You felt him smile into your hair as he gently pulled you back to look at him. He caressed your cheek for a few moments before leaning in and placing a soft kiss on your lips.

You still had a lot to talk about, a lot to work through, but you were together. You could get through this together. He was yours and you were his, and as you sat cuddled up in the astronomy tower exchanging sweet nothings and tender kisses, that was all that mattered.

S E R I E S  T A G L I S T : @callie-bear15 @marvel-th @uirene @fandomscombine @songforhema @bi-mama @itsfeliciatime @deansperfectbody @21bruhs @thegreat-annamaria @bellaagates @mhftrs @missingthered0426 @fallsicarus @aanaxxo @bellagrayson-wayne @that-weird-kid-charlie @micheladakenzo @xalmostxtherex @xiuminsdyo @oliviaharddyy @cynthianokamaria @babylon-uncrowned @iridescent-daniel @feysand-trash @awkwardnesshabitat @itsp-erf @luracantspell

[neonganymede]

Number 22 for mchanzo please? Love u ❤❤❤❤❤❤

Aahhh thank you!!

22. “Choose me.”

Jesse McCree looked aroundhis room and found it bare. Nothing to suggest he’d ever been there. Nothing tosuggest he might come back. Nothing of himself within these grey walls he’d calledhome twice.

He slung his bag over hisshoulder. Paused. Tried to stifle the reluctance brewing in his stomach.

Leaving was for the best.It was a mantra he’d repeated a countless number of times in front of hisbathroom mirror. Leaving was for the best. The more he said it, the less hebelieved it, and the more he wanted to just unpack and stay instead of being a fucking coward—

Jesse took a deep breath. Bestto leave on a high note, anyway. Nothing had happened. Nobody would suspect thereal reason he wanted to leave. And if they did? Maybe he could get out before someonecalled him out on it.

Leaving was for the best.Maybe one of these days, he would believe it.

Jesse left his room, emptyand devoid of any trace he’d been there. Later, if anybody realized he hadn’t beenthere for breakfast or training, then one of them might go check on him. Find nothingbut the faint aroma of tobacco.

Maybe it would be Angie,and she could get all annoyed with the realization he’d been smoking in hisroom. Or maybe Genji, who probably wouldn’t tell anybody for a while; he’dunderstand and give Jesse the opportunity to get a head start.

Probably, though… Hanzowould be the one to check on him. He wouldn’t be there for their morning practiceor for lunch, which both of them attended religiously if they weren’t out on amission. Hanzo would probably go to his room and knock. Wait. Call out for him.Wait.

Hell, maybe Hanzo wouldeven kick down the door. McCree got a little chuckle out of that. Probably not.He’d just ask Athena where McCree was.

And then Athena would tellHanzo that Jesse wasn’t on the base anymore. Left early in the morning, beforethe sun was up. Didn’t even have the decency to fucking say goodbye, just ranoff.

Likea fucking coward.

McCree shoved away thethoughts as he continued down the hallway, careful to keep quiet. The lastthing he needed was somebody hearing him and coming out to see what the noisewas. Then he’d have to explain, and explanations were messy.

He thought about stoppingby some of their drinking spots. The ledge atop the watchpoint, where Hanzoliked to monkey himself up and McCree used the stairs like a normal fuckingperson. The lounge, where Hanzo had fallen asleep on him for the first time.Hell, he even thought about stopping by Hanzo’s room to just stare at the doorlike a fucking creep, but no. He avoided all of those places.

Just made for the door,fully intending on vanishing into the dark cover of morning twilight. He madeit pretty far, too. He was outside, headed for the open road. Ready to leave everythingbehind him (again) and everybody he ever cared about (again) and not look back.

“Going somewhere,gunslinger?”

McCree stiffened. Shit. He turned around to find Hanzo leaningagainst the wall and watching him. Not the Hanzo that everybody was used toseeing, with his hair up and his clothes pristine. No, this was Jesse’s Hanzo, whose hair was free and a little disheveled and who wore sweatpantsand a t-shirt in place of his usual garb. This was the Hanzo that not many knewexisted but which Jesse knew intimately.

This was the Hanzo that he—

“Funny,” continued Hanzoin a tone that suggested he did not find this very funny at all, “I do notrecall you mentioning that you might be leaving. Is there a mission?”

McCree ground his teeth.Fucking Shimadas and their sneakiness. He should’ve known one of them wouldcatch him. He just wished it had been the damn ninja and not the one he’d beenhoping to avoid.

“No,” McCree saidcarefully.

“No?” Hanzo repeated, andthere it was. That signature Hanzo Rage that came out when he got a little angrierthan normal. He likely knew what McCree was up to and didn’t understand it, sothat pissed him off. “Then where would you be going with all of your belongings?”

McCree might as well be bluntabout it. “I’m leavin’, Hanzo. And I ain’t comin’ back.”

Hanzo was quiet for amoment, digesting this. When he spoke, his voice was curt and emotionless, theHanzo that McCree had first met who didn’t want to get attached to anybody andespecially not the cowboy.

“Why?”

“I got my reasons,”answered McCree, not wanting to get into this with him. Maybe with somebodyelse, but not with Hanzo.

Hanzo leveled him with aglare. “Which are?”

Jesse looked at Hanzo andsaw the distress gleaming behind the mask of anger. He deserved an explanation,but what did McCree say? That he couldn’t stay here anymore because just thesight of Hanzo made his stomach queasy? That the sight of Hanzo smile brightenedhis day, even when he was tired and sore after a long mission? That nothingmattered more to him than the evenings they spent together, drinking andtalking about nothing and everything or even just sitting in silence and appreciatingeach other’s company?

That Jesse was so fuckingin love with Hanzo that he was stupid with it?

No. McCree couldn’t sayany of that. Not when it might sour their friendship, even if McCree neverintended on seeing Hanzo ever again. He wanted Hanzo to remember him fondly, ifno other way. As friends.

Jesse wanted to throw up.

He picked the bestbullshit he could come up with, something Hanzo might believe. “Listen, Han, Iain’t one to work with groups—”

“Neither am I,” Hanzo interrupted.“Try again.”

Jesse huffed. “I hatesittin’ in one place all the time—”

“As do I,” Hanzo sneered,a bit triumphant. “I can do this all morning, Jesse.”

“Fine. I got one you ain’t gonna measure up to.” And McCree made hisbiggest mistake: stalking closer to Hanzo, as if proximity might help him gethis point across. “Overwatch ain’t justice. It’s never been justice. Yeah, maybe it started out like that in the beginnin’,but that wasn’t what it ended up bein’. It was all money and politics, and thefuckin’ victims ended up comin’ second.”

“Overwatch is different now,is it not?” Hanzo pointed out, a little quieter than before. He was staring atMcCree’s face with something akin to fear, as if he’d just realized that McCreewas serious about leaving. As if he’d just realized he might never see McCree again, so he had to soak inall of him while he had the chance.

Or maybe that was justwishful thinking on McCree’s part. Probably. He just couldn’t see a scenariothat ended happily for him. In every daydream he’d ever concocted where he toldHanzo the truth, he always ended up being called a fool because who could ever love a man like him? Hanzoprobably didn’t even like men, and ifhe did? McCree was probably at the bottom of his list.

“Yeah, it’s different now, but I know how this’ll go. We won’twe workin’ under the radar for long before somebody catches us, and then they’lleither take us down or build us back up. And if it’s the second one, then Overwatchshould ‘a just stayed dead. We’ll end up bein’ all about money and politics again, and that ain’t justice. Not to me.”Jesse paused to catch his breath. Some of that might actually have been true,which was good for him. Hanzo might earnestly believe it if there was an air ofreality to it.

“So the way I see it, I gota choice to make: do I stick around and see what’ll become of us the secondtime around or do I go out on my own again and make my own kind o’ justice?”

Hanzo’s eyes were dark andstormy, like that quiet moment of intensity before he unleashed hisdragonstrike. McCree held his gaze as he waited for Hanzo buy his bullshit andlet him go, and he tried not to think about how much he would miss this assholearcher. Already, he felt the hole of yearning expanding in his chest, and he wonderedwhat would happen first—if he would get over his feeling for Hanzo or beswallowed by them.

At last, Hanzo reached hisdecision with a quiet huff and a tilt of his chin. McCree didn’t have long tofigure out what he was so frustrated about before Hanzo’s hands were curledinto his serape.

“You have one more choice,”he growled and then pulled McCree in.

His hat fell to the ground,but he didn’t care. His serape was strangling him, but he didn’t care. All hecared about was the hard press of Hanzo’s mouth against his, kissing him withsuch determination that McCree was too stunned to even react. By the time he realized he should do something—at leastkiss the man back, dammit, how long have you been dreaming about this? —Hanzopulled away again, breathless and overcome with emotion.

“Choose me,” Hanzo encouraged, his voice rough and inviting. ”Stay.See this through. And if you do not like the direction the reformed Overwatchis headed, then we will leave together.”

“Together,” Jesse repeated,dumbfounded.

“If you will have me, thatis. I do not wish to presume….” Hanzo’s eyes shifted downward, momentarilyplagued with doubt, and McCree reached up to brush his fingertips along Hanzo’scheek.

“Darlin’,” he said, stillstunned but determined to work through this before Hanzo got the wrong idea. “I’lltake anythin’ you’re willin’ to give me.”

Hanzo looked back up athim, relief etched on his face. “Then we are in agreement? You will stay?”

 Jesse thought about all ofhis fake reasons for leaving and the one realreason, whose hands were still tangled in his serape as if to keep himleaving by sheer force. He supposed he really couldn’t leave now, could he? Still, he should probablydraw this out a little bit more, not give away his real motives just yet.

“I dunno,” McCree said,turning away a bit only to be jerked back by Hanzo. “I might be in need of alittle more convincin’.”

And Hanzo’s eyes narrowedknowingly, his lips curling up in a smirk. He began to lean in again, slower nowthat the urgency was gone. “As much as it will take.”

“That’s good,” he mumbledagainst Hanzo’s lips, much more prepared this time. “Cause I’ll need convincin’for a long time.”

[asherranceoftheheart]

I Trust You - JSE Drabble

Summary: Marvin knew that his little brother had been overdoing it lately again. It didn't help that he was probably having nightmares because of his stress and their unique circumstances. Hopefully, Chase would trust him just enough to let him help him. Warnings: Fluff, Platonic Cuddling, Family Masterpost of my Stories AO3 edition of the Post

Tag List: @the-rampaige​ @iris-the-asparagus​ @sqxxddygremlin​ @awkward-bullshit​ @jaysflight​ @assbutt-of-the-readers  @egopocalypse Author’s Note: U want sum fluff fuckers

His little brother hasn’t been sleeping again.

Marvin, perched on the top of a bookshelf in the living room while in his cat form, watched Chase exit out of the kitchen with a cup of piping hot tea clutched tightly in his hands at three in the morning. He sat down on the couch and did nothing else but stare at the blank wall nearby with an empty gaze.

The cat studied Chase’s aged features, skin pale from the lack of sunlight, eyes red rimmed from crying and accented by the thick black bags underneath them, a seemingly permanent furrow on his forehead, the unkempt beard he had no energy to groom unless he was going to record a video for the channel, the hair that was growing longer with each passing day since he had no energy to go to the nearby barbers for a trim, and most importantly, the lack of light and emotion in his blue eyes making it look empty and dead. It all added up to aging the man decades beyond his true age which further increased the worry of the other egos as they watch Chase become more and more of a shadow of his old self.

When was the last time they had seen Chase smile and laugh so carefreely and sincerely rather than plastering a fake one on his face every day just to avoid worrying them? Marvin searched his mind for that memory and then remembered that the last time he had seen Chase laugh and smile from the bottom of his heart was when Stacy allowed the kids to visit him and she even mustered up enough strength to look him in the eyes for a few seconds without fear and hatred burning in her eyes.

That… had been a month ago?

‘You’re going to burn yourself out again, Chase…’ Marvin thought, his fluffy ears drooping down dejectedly.

He kept his bright blue cat eyes trained on Chase’s back intently. There was a few minutes of tense silence before Chase signed and placed the untouched cooling cup of tea on the table in front of him and twisted his neck just enough so that his eyes would meet Marvin’s unblinking ones.

“I can feel you nagging.” Chase scowled but there was no heat behind it. “Stop it.”

Marvin blinked and tilted his head to the side before murring and jumping down his throne, landing gracefully on the floor with barely a sound. He approached Chase and entwined his feline body around the man’s legs with small mews before jumping up on Chase’s lap and perching his forelegs against the man’s chest. He rubbed the top of his head under the bottom of Chase’s chin, purring up a storm that relaxed some of the tension from Chase’s body.

Chase gave out another sigh but this time it was tinged with fondness. He reached up to scratch the cat behind his ears just like the way he liked it. The man chuckled when Marvin practically turned into goo in his lap.

Marvin gave him a scolding yowl and then bapped his nose, Chase nearly turning cross-eyed as he stared at the paw that was still tapping his nose. The cat gave another attention catching growl and Chase gave him a wry smile.

“I know, I know…” Chase murmured, sliding the paw away from his face before pressing a kiss on the top of the feline’s marked forehead, quirking up the corners of his lips at the tiny mew his action warranted. “But someone has to hold the fort while you guys are trying to find a way to get rid of the glitch bitch and wake Jack up at the same time.”

Marvin gave him a tiny kitty kiss on the bottom of his chin before jumping off his lap and to the empty side of the couch. The cat started glowing so brightly Chase covered his eyes with his arms. When he removed them after a few seconds, he saw Marvin remove his cat mask and place it on the table beside the cup of tea and looked up to reveal his scarred face and his intense sapphire colored eyes.

“You haven’t been sleeping again.” Marvin narrowed his eyes accusingly especially when Chase avoided his gaze. “Has He been plaguing your dreams again?”

The magician clenched his hands which gave off a subtle green glow in response to his protective anger at the prospect that the glitch was tormenting Chase again. While the demon’s practically obsessive attention over Chase was a blessing since it turned his attentions away from them, allowing the other Septics to search for a solution to his existence, it horrified them seeing the results of the demon’s torment on their brother who always seemed to think that just because he didn’t have any notable powers like the others, he would be the perfect irreplaceable bait.

It didn’t help that the demon became increasingly eager in its attempts to capture him as Chase’s influence over the channel and his popularity with the community increased.

“No! No,” Chase grabbed his hands frantically. He didn’t want the magician to go on a hunting spree for Anti tonight or rather today. While Marvin was strong, he and Anti didn’t know the meaning of self-control and often ends up injuring each other gravely. Good riddance to Anti getting hurt but he didn’t like seeing his older brother in pain. “It’s just the regular stress and depression insomnia and nightmares. Sure he might play as a character in some of them but it’s not really Him.”

Nonetheless, the scowl remained in Marvin’s lips. The magician glared over the shoulder of his little brother, eyes giving off an eerie glow due to his anger before he forced himself to calm down since Chase was looking at him with concern and weariness in his face.

He suddenly pulled Chase into a big hug, burying his nose into Chase’s growing hair. He felt the younger ego clutch at him, slightly shaking as he finally allowed himself to break down. Marvin rocked the two of them as he allowed Chase to shatter in his arms.

The magician ran his fingers through Chase’s long hair, rubbing here and there to release some of the tension in the father’s head before dropping it to the back of his neck in a comforting grip. Chase laid his cheek against Marvin’s shoulder and relaxed.

The two of them spent some reasonable time in companionable silence before Marvin broke it with an idea that had been lurking in his mind.

“Chase… You still can’t sleep right?” Marvin whispered, he didn’t want to disturb the peace that they were in. Chase answered in a positive hum but said nothing else. “Would you mind if you let me hypnotize you into sleeping without any bad dreams?”

The question made the form in his arms go rigid. The concept of letting anyone into their heads was a rather sore subject for any of the Septics. It meant giving away control and the possibility of being manipulated. Anti being able to take anybody’s form and even act rather exactly like them did terrible things to their trust issues until the Septics finally had a few interventions to clear the air between them.

Their bonds with each other has grown tighter over the months since their creation especially when they all had to face the concept of Anti once or twice. Recently, the one hit the worst with these issues was Chase with how he was currently maintaining the battlefield with Anti.

That’s why Marvin didn’t push him. It was just a suggestion. In fact, he even doubted that the other would take it—

“I trust you.” Chase quietly murmured before pushing away from the hug and looking him in the eyes. Those earnest baby blues melting away some of the ice in Marvin’s heart. “I know you won’t hurt me so… Go ahead. Maybe I’ll get some nice rest this time, huh?”

Marvin placed both hands on Chase’s shoulders and gazed deep into his eyes, checking if there’s any doubt or reluctance to do this. But all he saw was the desperation to rest, the deep-seated weariness from life, and the absolute trust in him that warmed Marvin’s heart.

He knew that he wasn’t the most positive like Jackie or innocent like Jamie. His morality was a bit dubious and inches more on the gray-side of morality. To see the complete trust his younger brother held in him when even sometimes he could see the doubt in Jackie or Henrik’s eyes…

“Alright… Time to relax,” Marvin whispered, allowing his words to carry itself into Chase’s ears, his influence slithering into his mind and easing away the tension and unease in his heart.

Chase sighed, melting into his arms. His eyes drooped down and they gazed almost emptily into Marvin’s eyes. Marvin brushed Chase’s cheek and wrapped his arms around the younger ego’s waist.

“You’re safe, Chase.” Marvin murmured, allowing his magic to exert more influence over Chase’s trusting mind and untangling the ‘knots’ that was making it hard for the other to sleep. “We’re all safe. You can rest now.”

At the word rest, Chase’s eyes slipped close and he slumped against Marvin, completely dead to the world. Marvin caught his weight and then carefully maneuvered Chase into his arms in a bridal carry. He stood up and then started walking them up over to Chase’s room so that he can tuck the other in.

He walked upstairs and into the room at the end of the second floor. He hip bumped the door open and sighed in fond exasperation at the slightly messy state of his younger brother’s room.

He could see some papers with doodles and notes on possible future video scripts and the some community interaction ideas such as reddit, memes, and even green screen edits. At the desk, he saw their pictures and Chase’s kids’ hand-drawn pictures being proudly displayed on the wall while his laptop remained in sleeping mode. There was also an open can of Coca-cola near the computer which made Marvin’s lips quirk up in amusement as he remembered the constant jokes of Coke sponsoring the channel that Chase kept on beating to the ground.

Marvin carried Chase into the only bed in the room and used his magic to flip the covers back. He carefully placed the sleeping man on top of the bed and was about to straighten up when he realized that Chase’s hands were tightly clutching the front of his shirt. When he attempted to pry it away, his movements stopped when Chase let out a tiny whimper. The magician looked down at the youtuber with a wry smile.

“Well… I guess I’m sleeping in the bed with you.” Marvin sighed, but his heart fluttered at the show of trust.

He slipped into the bed with Chase and pulled up the covers over their bodies. He pressed his forehead on the crown of Chase’s head and then closed his eyes. He allowed the weariness in his body and Chase’s heartbeat to slowly lull him into a dreamless sleep.

[rabbitindisguise]

oooo my phone died, killing the possibility of me doing my Daily Assigned Task (I only have one because aside from staying afloat with food and stuff that’s all my brain can cognitively handle. Yes, I also do this doing the school year. Yes, I know that sounds absolutely bonkers) right this moment so while I have my boredom captive in this textpost, let’s ruminate over the nature of humanity some more ignore me I’m talking to myself 

it is also very extremely weird and by “very” I mean “not at all” and “extremely” I mean “minimally, if anything, actually not super weird in any of the senses of the word” and weird still just means weird because otherwise the previous things I just said would no longer be accurate BUT

let’s just say it’s totally expected 

that people find These Weird Things That I Do generally, absolutely fascinating in fiction. Like, my original works for example are steeped in weirdness. Rolling with abnormalities. Boiling with oddity. And so on. And I don’t pull this out of my ass! Oh no. This is all like . . . gosh, inspired stuff. From things I saw and liked and felt reflected my very soul in fiction. 

But they’re totally hated in meatspace 

I wonder 

Anyway, it’s also really strange to see posts about this Weird Things That People Do on tumblr and to read people complimenting them and to feel a warm glow of pleasant optimism about the state of humanity, and hear the very same audience of tumblr people absolutely go nuts over the strangest bullshit I have ever seen or heard or conceived of in my entire life. Like I get weirdly tense and fraught subjects. I get really tense and pissy if someone headcanons a character as binary trans when I headcanon them as non-binary when I’m a nb trans it literally doesn’t matter aside from my emotional attachment to the concept. I’m not proud of it! But I get it, is my point. I understand. It makes sense to me. 

But what just doesn’t quite click, doesn’t snap into the convoluted logic of my brain meats, is HOW exactly SO MANY people have the same weird gripes of this obscure stuff that should be totally okay if people are accepting the activist principles of ableism as nonsense and weirdness not being bad. Many others who are probably smart have said it is simply, nay, merely hypocrisy and I’ve met a human or two in my time alive, I can see the potential for that sort of thing to happen. However, considering that Herd Mentality is what it is, I don’t think it’s possible that the plague is actually “being widely inconsistent in the execution of your beliefs to fit in to society” when that’s so stigmatized but actually that being angry about the same things is good for some reason. 

This is important! It’s important because Reasons. Because if you say “hypocrite!” when there’s a fire, I don’t think anyone will understand or listen to the concern. If the answer is anything but hypocrisy, talking about it generally pisses people off and makes them yell at you- a near identical response of an actual hypocrite, confusing everyone further. So I don’t think it’s unfair to talk about hypocrisy, of course not, there is nothing I enjoy more than finding logical inconsistencies because it means the world can be improved etc etc that’s not the problem. The problem is most definitely that if the problem isn’t even hypocrisy than the solution isn’t the solution to hypocrisy.   

If my theory is right, or semi-right, or at least not wrong, then approaching a bunch of people yelling about a thing to encourage others to yell in tandem is not going to be won by yelling something opposing to that, especially if it makes them angrier and also makes them feel wronged. Instead, calmly being like “nah, dude, I don’t feel the same way, but it’s chill” is way better. Not only because it makes them look ridiculous for having an out of proportion reaction to someone being weird in public (the horror, whatever shall we do about ~being weird~ and doing it ~in public~) but there’s no defensive position to get on. There is no “debate tactics” to use. There’s absolutely not a disagreement about ableism or politics or intersectionality. Rather, it uplifts a contrary option that is confident and secure and this is exactly the same rhetorical device that Centrists or whatever they’re called, use all the damn time. People have talked At Length about jeez, idk, it being exhausting to constantly talk to a person that’s not as invested and doesn’t see it as the Serious Issue It Is- but from the perspective of when they’re actually talking about serious issues, rather than complaining that someone referenced a tumblr meme in public or plays mc and oh, no, how cringey 

This is of course blatant emotional manipulation but as the fairness complaint generally goes, they did it first. Multiple people weighing in on a topic with angry voices telling someone not to do something doesn’t work because they have secret actual good reasons and that shines through, it’s because there’s a number of angry people and they’re trying to subdue someone’s Weird with force. Emotional force, but there’s nothing about consent involved in this exchange. No personal boundaries. Shame is a mode of control. Power, even. Which is why I hate those second hand embarrassment fics and avoid them like the plague because it’s icky to me and makes me feel gross and I guess one of my personal triggers is someone feeling bad for doing something Shameful in public 

Which brings me to Weird Humanity Musings part II (III? I can’t do math) that have taken a weird non-activist and highly personal turn for the worst: 

I don’t think people notice how often emotional manipulation plays a part in subtle power plays that go on in human interactions every day. Humanity made dominance ffs. Humans are the ones that get upset and feel challenged with eye contact- not dogs. Dogs use sustained eye contact all the time for a bunch of reasons. Humans too. But it’s humans that recontextualized that behavior as exclusively dominance, a wholly human concept, and, whatever I’m not going to spend too much time on this because I don’t actually particularly care about it. But the point is actually just that humans went out of their way to create this thing, and it plays a part in social interactions. Mothers and daughters and siblings and friends all have scripts of code that basically go for the emotional center of the other person to get them to obey. Most people can’t recognize it because society has that whole “if everyone does it THIS must be the baseline of normal” be as well All Know, normal doesn’t even exist so that reaction is bullshit before it’s even analyzed in any meaningful sense. 

Example time because I highly doubt I can just say that off the cuff and actually get people to follow that train of thought to completion (unfortunately, I’d rather not have to write this post at all because it means one less problem in the world and that’s a good thing). 

Anytime someone says “I’m your mother!” it’s to reinforce the authority of the child that this person probably have financial, social, physical (such a medical) and emotional control over for almost two decades of their life, or however much it actually was. This is often used to make the child of the mother Do Something, like maybe they’re questioning her judgement or smth I don’t know I get this one a lot and it’s lost all meaning to me by now 

Whenever someone says “thank you” it generally plays into the social script where they do the whole dance of “I got this service from you, I say thanks, you say you’re welcome.” This works as a subtle manipulation (not necessarily negative! these examples aren’t Get Mad and Force Conformity examples, just How It Works examples) when someone doesn’t feel like they’ve done something for someone else, so saying “thanks” shows appreciation for the effort and can force an acknowledgement of that effort by expecting a “your welcome” or “no problem” from the other person. This gets shitty and creepy when someone doesn’t take silence aka “I’m not doing the dance because I don’t agree” to a degree where they’re like “oh? are you not going to say you’re welcome?” aka are you gonna be a conceited shithead that thinks they’re better than saying “you’re welcome” the most common social nicety that supposedly always costs nothing? Which does nothing to make the person to feel better and everything to leverage the situation and make them preform social interaction for the other person’s amusement. 

“Good morning” is another example. It doesn’t actually matter if the morning is good or not, but it establishes rapport and focuses on the positives- one of those things called “small talk.” (Never heard of her.) This is something someone can actually observe better at the cultural level- someone says “good morning” in english, in another language they say something else. Both show ideological underlying beliefs of the culture Because That’s How Culture And Language Work because it’s a sneaky not-liar that can’t hide its true feelings about things. 

I’m not actually all that good with the line between “what is acceptable emotional manipulation in a social context when the fundamentals of the english language rely on subtle power exchange to function [and holy shit would some people hate knowing That] and the unacceptable abusive emotional manipulation” and I generally err on the side of stuff that people seem to be explicitly asking for and prompting but I don’t always succeed and I don’t know that I’m doing the best method but that’s the most chaotic good thing I could come up with  

But it still remains that calling things emotional manipulation is both true and a misnomer because in some ways, they’re necessary to exist in society without being considered a jackass (as a self proclaimed “I was called a jackass using many different words that all basically mean jackass” that mostly doesn’t participate in these social nicety dances because I don’t like my brain yelling at me that I’m doing the same bullshit I hated as a Youth and I don’t like disappointing myself) and in others, they’re totally unneeded and artlessly cruel. I mean, heck, going through this internal debate every time someone says “good morning?” Who does that? (I do. This is why people think I’m a dumbass lmao. Jokes on them unfortunately,) 

Regardless of what people actually DO about it though, these things are the underlying mechanics of how emotional manipulation works. It’s a concoction of societal expectations, situational contexts, personal histories, selective pressures, and a bunch of other things in smaller amounts. Most of the time it’s “normal” social stuff but with a ton of exaggerated features (I almost used my own handle from a different Social Media and that my friends is having a lot of issues and self hatred due to abuse! and also anxieties over becoming abusive ofc but who doesn’t have those these days). Which is why I think it’s so important that it’s expansively defined so much because otherwise people are really thickheaded about emotional abuse specifically. They think it’s impossible to do in some cases and in others, think it’s exclusively the realm of insults and humiliation. 

Those exaggerate features are even harder to spot if someone doesn’t even recognize the interpersonal dynamics of language in the first place. It all just becomes nonsensical and no one can tell what came from where or what this particular question is abusive and not this other one. The logic gets poked with holes easier and abuse survivors get dismissed. 

Of course, expanding that definition to reshape thinking might just go along the same direction as representation, where even alluding to the truly abusive mechanics of actual, you know, emotional abuse, is seen as abusive. Everything, literally, would become problematic. There could be callout posts about any human interaction in any context with anyone ever. I’m confident in holding myself to a higher standard than the rest of society but I Cannot overstate that being bullshit to the nth degree that I couldn’t even put up with myself telling myself to keep to it as a standard. It just doesn’t work. I’ve tried it. That way lies the nonsense form of madness as in the non-nd kind. That, along with purity culture and censorship and doxxing and death threats and so on: I don’t fully want to release this theory out into the world in practice because I’m afraid society will just use it as fodder to be cruel to people but I’m also equally afraid that not saying anything will just cause people to, I don’t know, keep accidentally causing suffering to others. So I’ll stuff it under a read more and hope that keeps the impact minimal but not non-existent. 

But yeah this whole post is a demonstration that just because someone’s behaving weirdly doesn’t necessarily mean that they’re bad people. Even if they do something that seems downright mean. I read a post that was basically “there’s no such thing as asshole disorder” but there really is, and it’s whatever I have. I get so compelled to Do the right thing by my ethics and morals that I go through above *gestures* and take longer than neurotypicals do to respond to “good morning” and I don’t mean anything by it so I assume that people can tell because I assume the best in others, and others are free to assume the worst in me so they do. 

I’m not upset by it but I also wish that there were a better system to screen assholes than assuming that non-compliance with normality is a sign of evil, because that’s the system we seem to have. It might have a high reward in the brain via confirmation biases and whatnot, but that doesn’t seem worth the risk of basically knocking down any and every mental illness symptom that’s unpalatable. Because they’re all unpalatable to someone, somewhere. That’s what makes them symptoms. We don’t have any “glowing green hair” as symptoms because that’s just sick as fuck and I want some. People who have working with their symptoms and turned them into something beneficial have largely challenged societal ideas about what is “good” and “natural” to get there, and that type of work isn’t someone everyone is cut out for. 

Many physically disabled people are all medical model, all the way because they’ve been largely neurotypical their whole lives, and I’ve read their grieving posts like people recommend that I read and I just don’t see how I can help them empathize with me as a person that doesn’t give a shit if my clicking pen annoys people if it helps me focus. That’s an Asshole move if any has ever be determined by society, but at the same time, a common fundamental symptom of many disorders, and as such, I don’t feel bad about it and I don’t know that I could, ever, be made to feel guilty for existing. I’ve never seen myself as a drain on society. I’ve never felt like a freeloader. And I’ll never feel bad for being disable or neurodivergent. Does that make me the bad guy? Or the weird cool antihero from fiction? My impulse is to say “yes” to both ‘cause what people like in fiction is not always what they tolerate in real life 

It’s kinda weird and paradoxical that I can feel bad about not feeling bad but not feel bad about being disabled at the same time but w/e I’m an abuse survivor we, collectively, excel at stuff and things that most people may not understand so I guess that’s all the explanation I need