#i still feel like no one actually cares about my stuff

[cute-little-fly]

Fuck, I relate so much to this it hurts, but seeing other people have this same experiences makes me feel not so alone on this. I realized I have never told my story so I will use this post to do it.

This is how I felt most of my school and high school years, except for a few friends that I managed to do until sixth grade of school and high school. So, in my case I have had friends, I have known what reciprocated friendship is like and that helped me so much. But I have also felt that sensation of being apart from everyone else by an invisible veil. Is very sad. I would really wish that we could be able to have better education as a society.

Even with all its problems for me school was better than high school. I managed to drag some people on my special interests like ants and insects. We fed them in school and got in trouble. I also managed to make everyone in school have a tamagotchi because I was obsessed with them. They sold them very cheap in the corner store near school. But I had to suffer so much before that, and even after that I struggled to maintain and have friends and still I felt appart sometimes. A lot of students came to my school only one year because their school flooded, then, they went away and I was alone again.

I remember I had this one friend in kinder garden whom I clung as if my life depended on it. Then, on first grade she told me she wanted to have more friends, to go and run and play and that basically she probably didn’t enjoy to spend time with me. I let her go, because she wasn’t forced to be with me all the time and I didn’t played like the other kids and I understood that. But I felt so broken. Even after that I expected that one day she would come back and I tried to. I had some friends during that time, short lived, only one was very close that was the queer guy everyone else bullied. I pretended to be his “girlfriend” sometimes, but we were really friends. Then he was put in other section so we could barely see each other and we started to have other friends, but still we kept in some touch and I didn’t felt the same trauma and rejection than with my other friend.

Then, in sixth grade of school I found my real and first girls friend group, they were all new girls that came from other schools for different life situations. They were trying to make me forget about thar friend (we never kept contact but for years, I still tried to befriend her again and again) until that moment I knew that she didn’t deserved me. My self steem was so low and I still clung to her so badly even if she barely talked to me, and I didn’t cared that she didn’t cared how I felt. My new friends made me see that, so I ended being loyal to them because they were the ones that actually cared for me and accepted me completely. They were the ones that supported me with my ants and tamagotchi. I think that was the best year of my childhood.

High school was ok I guess. At least I knew by that time that trying to be someone I wasn’t was not going to work, and that I could wait until I found my people. So I went alone to the high school library every day to read and play board games alone. I had some friend groups before them but didn’t worked, and they told me that I couldn’t hang up with them anymore. Just because I didn’t wanted to do some performance in class. Then, I met my new friends group there, in the next year, at the library. They were from another year, so I could only see them in breaks and after classes. But, it was ok, better than being alone 100% of the time.

I don’t use this blog for much personal stuff, but here I talk about autism sometimes so I figured that from my other blogs here is where it fits most :).

People underestimate how much it fucks you up to be subtly excluded as a kid. I would try to talk to my classmates and be met with disinterest or annoyance. The one friend I had, who I clung to and nodded along to his every word, had other friends he liked just as much or more. And his other friends didn’t care for me at all.

I look back at pictures from the time and see how separated I was from them. I remember knowing I was different. I remember posing questions about the world to the girls playing next to me and realizing that they had never asked the same ones to themselves. That the ways we thought couldn’t be more different.

I kept myself amused with my own fanatical stories and musings in my head. I would wander the playground on a circular path, imagining a friend and being sorely disappointed when it didn’t feel as real as I’d hoped.

There was a bubble separating me from everyone else, thin, and nearly invisible, but with a pearly sheen you could catch under the right conditions. I knew it was there, they knew it was there, and it changed me

[captain-huggy-bear]

"How dare you talk about my future husband like that…"

Pairing: Clayton Keller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Clayton is feeling self conscious about his eye since his injury, you are not having any of it.

Notes: I've been noticing that Clay's still got some bloodshot and damage to his eye and just wondered if he feels a little self conscious about it (even though he shouldn't because he's so handsome.)

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

Writing Masterlist

Clayton is staring at himself in the hallway mirror when you get home from running some errands. Turning this way and that, long fingers pulling at the skin around his left eye where it’s still somewhat bruised and swollen. The eye that is still bloodshot and damaged from the puck he took to the face a few weeks ago. It’s been a slow to heal problem, one he seemed to not be bothered by, until now.

When he lets out a rough, heavy sigh and glances over at you with a frown, you know somethings wrong before he even starts to speak. It’s all in the set of his shoulders, in the downturn of his mouth, the way he’s not smiling at seeing you back home.

"I look fucking awful right now." 

The comment has you dropping your shopping bags to the floor, not caring too much about your shopping, hands falling to rest on your hips as you glare at your boyfriend. Your handsome, wonderful boyfriend who had just dared to call himself anything but. 

"Take that back right now." Clay rolls his eyes at you, at the harsh tone of your voice and the way you’re standing like a disapproving parent. He knows he looks awful and doesn’t want your pity, his eye looks like someone’s burst it and the skin around is all weird mottled colours, sickly yellows and greens. It’s ugly. Disgusting. He’s surprised you’ve been able to stand looking at him the past few weeks and he doesn’t want your pity, your false reassurances. 

"But, I do, my eye is so fucking messed up still...fucking ugly." The words are spat out, like they taste bad and they certainly leave a bad taste in your mouth as you close the short distance between the two of you, hands falling to his wrist, landing over his bracelets as you tug until he looks at you. Your thumb brushing against the delicate skin of his wrist. 

Some of your anger, your bite is gone the moment he looks at you because he’s so…so sad, you can tell that Clayton genuinely feels like his eye is ugly, like the bruising, the bloodshot nature of it all, makes him any less wonderful. You’re not used to him being self conscious or sad, he’s always so level headed. It’s usually you in his spot and him in yours.

"How dare you talk about my future husband like that…" Your voice doesn’t have any of the bite that it might have done a few minutes ago, in fact your voice is quiet and soft as you look up at him. Your hand slips from his wrist, fingers twining with his to hold his hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

"Y/N..." He groans low in his throat, deep and scratchy, head tilting and falling to his shoulder. He doesn’t believe you, you can tell, he thinks you’re just trying to make him feel better and that’s just not on. 

A strand of his hair falls forward from where it had been slicked back, you reach up with your free hand to push it back and out of the way, taking the opportunity to cup his face after, fingers rubbing at the skin around his eye gently. 

"I mean it. You're not ugly, it's not possible. The only thing I think when I see your eye is that I hope you're not in pain..." That’s all you’d been concerned about for the past 3 weeks, that Clay was comfortable, that every time you kissed him you weren’t causing him more pain. The idea that he wasn’t as handsome had never even crossed your mind. You’re not actually sure it’s possible for Clay to be anything but handsome.

“You don’t have to say stuff to make me feel better, baby…it’s okay, it’s ugly and it’s fine.” 

“Clayton John Keller.” You snap out, hand cupping his cheek more firmly and turning his eyes to look at you, really look at you as you step further into his personal space, “Stop assuming i’m lying. I have never lied to you, not once.” It’s something you’ve never felt the need to do around Clay, even when you first started dating…it didn’t matter how bad the situation, you knew that Clay wouldn’t judge you or yell at you, so you’d never felt that panic, that need to hide anything from him and you certainly weren’t going to lie about this. “You could lose an eye, you could have bruises across your entire face, a broken nose, split lip, and I would still think you’re the most handsome man on this planet, Clayton Keller and I am not lying about that.”

“C’mon, baby, you can’t seriously tell me that this,” Clay gestures to his eye, to the big red blood spot across his sclera, “is attractive?” 

“Why not? I…” He raises an eyebrow at you when you stop yourself short and you work up the bravery inside you to admit something you’ve kept quiet, “I actually think…this makes me a terrible person by the way and I'm sorry, but I actually think you look hotter injured.” You close your eyes tight, scrunching up your features, before opening one eye to check his reaction.

“What?” He’s stumped, looking at you like you just told him the president was an alien or that chocolate was actually made from insects. Clay’s mouth is open, jaw dropped just slightly, brows furrowed, blue eyes confused and it’s adorable, even if you feel embarrassed about your confession. 

“Look, I know it makes me a terrible person but there’s something about you covered in blood and bruises…” 

A smirk starts to grow on Clay’s face once your words sink in, the closest thing to a smile you’ve seen from him since walking through the front door. His blue eyes gleam with a sort of twisted delight, a mischief that makes your stomach buzz with butterflies, as his dimples start to show on one side of his mouth. 

“...Is that why you practically jumped me after the Winnipeg game, sweet girl?” You don’t even realise he’s corralling you, moving you until your back hits the hallway wall and he’s leaning over you, forearm pressed against the wall beside your head. 

“Shut up…” You murmur it, unable to do much more as your body fills with giddy, nervous energy (the good kind), as your face warms and your toes curl because of how he’s looking at you, all half-lidded eyes and a toothy smirk that makes you want to scream like a teenage girl. How he ever thought he was ugly you can’t comprehend when he makes you feel like you’re combusting right now.

“...You still think I'm handsome?” It’s teasing, mischievious as he leans ever closer, until your only response is a high pitched giggle that gives you away because fuck, he’s so hot…you’re not sure how you nabbed him, what made him pick you of all people, but you’re thankful for whatever convinced him you were the one.

“Baby? Do you think i’m handsome?” He asks again because apparently your giggles aren’t enough of an answer or more accurately because he hates you and wants to torture you even as he smiles down at you all dimples and teeth.

“I always think you're handsome…especially when you smile like that.” 

“C’mere,” It’s silly how he always says that, but he’s the one that moves towards you. Clay’s quick to close the distance between you, slanting his mouth over yours into a sweet but firm kiss, it lasts longer than you expect, long enough for your hands to make their way into his shoulder length strands, long enough for him to practically press you into the wall,  “Thanks for keeping me in check, baby,” He’s practically murmuring it against your lips, not pulling away any further than necessary and you consider this an achievement. That you’ve taken his mood from self conscious and dower, back to teasing and sweet, back to standard Clay. 

“You’re welcome.”

“Just know I'm never going to forget that you’re a little freak who thinks I'm hotter when I'm bloody.”

“Clay, I swear to God!”

[b3ach-bunn7]

MY KIND OF WOMAN

Touya is the son of your fathers greatest business rival. You’re supposed to hate him, but you definitely dont.

No quirks, forbidden romance

—————————————————————————-

Touya Todoroki looks good tonight.

You feel guilty the second the thought enters your brain, like your father might be hearing it. He doesn’t want you talking to guys, much like any father, but if there’s any person in the world he’d kill you for even looking at, it’s Touya, the son of his rival company’s owner.

You’re not even sure what it is your fathers do. Something about finance, computers, science. All you know is that it’s a filthy business, and the Todorokis and Tanakas had been at each other's throats for years. If there was one name that had been run through the dirt in your house, it was Todoroki. Enji had done this, he’d stolen this client, taken this deal. You didn’t really care. All you knew was that you were supposed to hate them all, so you did. Especially Touya, because he was next in line to take over the company, and according to local rumours, he was as misbehaved as they come. Which you were supposed to care about, apparently.

But then you actually met him. And you don’t think you hated him at all.

It was, funnily enough, at a company party. Some firm that both sides of this inane war partnered with, and your dad had forced you to go. So you did, in a little black dress and a perfect smile as you walked around with him like the good daughter you were. You greeted the people you were supposed to greet. You smiled at the old ladies who complimented your unblemished skin and laughed at all the weird comments his too old coworkers made. You only finally got away under the guise of using the bathroom. Truthfully, you took to walking around the place they’d rented out, an old auditorium, peering into the empty rooms. They were mostly filled with boxes, extra chairs and storage. But there was one room, with wide windows and boxes of stage equipment, that piqued your interest.

Because it was in that room that you saw Touya. 

He had dark black hair that fell over his eyes, sleeves rolled up while the suit jacket he was supposed to be wearing was abandoned on a chair to the side. He had cracked open a window, and was deftly blowing the smoke from his cigarette out of it. He must have heard your heels clicking against the floor, because as he turned to face you, you noticed the piercings on his eyebrow and septum and his lip. And you also noticed that he was handsome. In an alluring, he’d probably make you fall in love with him then leave you, sort of way. 

You had heard rumours about Touya. Everyone had, to be honest. Your town was small and overridden with gossip, both in your age demographic and your parents. The stuff you’d heard about the man in front of you should’ve been more than enough to steer you away, that and all your fathers warnings. But the party was boring, and you were still a little pissed at your dad for making you come, so you decided your definitely entertain this.

He tilted his head, and the cigarette burned between his fingers.

“I know you. You’re Tanaka’s daughter.” His voice was low and deep, rumbling in his chest as he eyed you.

You nodded, taking another step in the room. “In the flesh. I’m not supposed to be talking to you.” You smile.

Touya’s lips curled into a smile. “Shame.” He took another puff of his cigarette. “You just going to stand there then?”

You walked forward until you were next to him. You pointed at the cigarette. 

“You got another?”

He hummed. “No. We can share, though.”

He held it out to you, and you took it easily, taking a long slow drag. You sighed, blowing the smoke out the window.

“We basically just kissed.” 

You shot him an amused glance. “Are you twelve?”

“No. Eighteen. Just like you.” 

Touya crossed his arms on the ledge of the window. Like that, the setting sun casted shadows across his face, the flattering blue of his eyes almost glowing as he turned to look at you.

You leant against the wall, avoiding eye contact. “Should I be concerned that you know that?”

“No. I’m sure you know as well as I do how much our fathers love talking about each other.”

You snorted a laugh. “God, he’d kill me if he saw me with you right now.” 

Touya pouted. “I’m not that bad. I’m nice. I’m even sharing it with you.” He reached out his hand to grab the cigarette and you passed it to him, your fingers brushing.

“Mhm. I'll be sure to tell him how kind you were to smoke with me.” You nodded sympathetically, and he grinned something dangerous.

It was all sort of the end after that.

You started to run into him a lot more. While he didn’t go to the local school like you, but the two of you lived in the same neighbourhood. You went to the library to study and there he was, with a blonde haired girl who nearly got kicked out for talking too much. You stopped at the mall to grab some clothes and there he was with the blonde hair boy from school who’s always chatting girls up. 

And every time he’d stop you just before you left, entice you with good conversation and a cigarette outside. And who were you to deny it? He was good conversation. He had good taste in music, and he made you laugh. You’d started hoping that you’d run into him more every time you left the house. And yes,  maybe you started to develop a teensy little crush on him. It didn’t help when he slipped you his phone number one day.

You’d just gotten out of your car, about to fill it up at the gas station, when you heard the rev of a motorcycle and a shout.

“Hey! Tanaka!” 

You turned to the source of the voice to see Touya hopping off his bike. You assumed it was his bike. He’d mentioned it a couple times, and the sleek metal and soft leather seats looked pretty close to his very detailed descriptions. He took his helmet off and god, the mess of his hair and the pink of his cheeks had you smiling instantly. You lock your car door and wave.

“Hiya. What are you doing here?”

He tapped the back of his bike. “Fuelling her up.” He looks down at your car.

“Nice ride.”

You rolled your eyes. It is definitely not a nice ride. Unfortunately you got the kind of rich parents that wanted you to earn money the old fashioned way, which included using your shitty part time job to pay for your first car. 

“It’s safer than that death machine.” You raised your eyebrows at his bike and he smoothed his hands over her.

“Aw, lighten up. She’s safe enough. And she’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

You rolled your eyes, finishing up filling your car, but you couldn’t help the little smile on your face. “It’s a machine, Touya. You can’t hurt her feelings.”

You started walking towards the store to pay, and he immediately followed, twirling his keys on his finger. “So where are you headed?”

“Home. Just finished work.”

Touya tilted his head. He held the door open for you and you walked in, quietly thanking him. He’s tall, so he had no issue reaching over and pushing it open before you even could touch the handle.

“Work? Where do you work?”

The store was empty, apart from an blred looking employee fiddling with the cash register. You eyed the chocolate bars and he watched you do so, standing a little closer than normal. “I work at that bookshop on Green street.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You know it?” You grab a pack of m&ms. 

Touya nodded. You both walked over to the fridges, and he slid the door open and you grabbed a can of coke. You pull your hoodie sleeves over your hands. “Yeah. My sister’s always in there.” He said.

You hum. “I probably know her.”

“Not better than me, I hope. I should be the only Todoroki in your life.” He pouted and you snorted a laugh.

“Oh, don’t worry, you are.” 

Touya grabbed a red bull and the two of you walked to the counter. Touya queued first, and you watched him fumble in his pockets for his wallet, and come up empty. He looked up sheepishly at the cashier.

“Shit. I left my wallet at home.” He turned to you with an apologetic look on his face. “You have a dollar?”

You smiled, stepping forward. Touya protested as you asked the cashier to ring you up too, but you batted his hands away. He huffed next to you and you rolled your eyes.

“Consider this repayment for that cigarette.” You grinned, tapping your card.

Touya walked you the short distance back to your car. “Does this make you my sugar mommy?”

“Ew, Touya! That’s gross. I’ll take the red bull back.”

Touya laughed loudly. “If you want. I’ve already slobbered all over it though.”

“I think I’ve shared enough cigarettes with you to not care about that.”

You dug in your purse for your car keys, key rings jingling as you unlocked it.

“I guess this is goodbye once more.”

“It sure is, Tanaka.”

Before you could get in it though, he stopped you, hand circling your wrist. His fingers were wet with condensation from the red bull, and you noticed how easily they wrapped around you.

“Wait. Give me your phone.”

You looked at him in confusion. “What, you leave that at home too?”

“Ha ha. No. Just give it. Come on, babe.”

You sighed reluctantly, but dug it out of your pocket nonetheless. “Don’t call me babe.”

“You prefer baby?”

“I prefer Y/N.”

He did something. You couldn’t even see, but you trusted him, brushing a hair behind you head as you watched him tap away. You heard a chime come from his phone, and when he passed yours back, you saw he’d given you his number.

“Perfect.” 

You tried to hide the smile that was itching to grace your lips. “What was that for?”

He just slipped his helmet on, unashamed of his own grin. “So I can repay you for that Redbull. Give me a time and place, angel.”

“Y/N.”

He brushed you off. “Same thing.”

It was all downhill from there. He beat you in 8 ball IMessage games every night and sent you the dumbest TikToks you’d ever seen in your life, and you loved it. Touya called you when he was at work, on his walks home, while he was doing school stuff. It only made everything more exciting how forbidden it all was. Sneaking around town so nobody saw you two, only meeting late at night. Sure, you had to clamber out your window on the nights your parents were home and awake, but it was all worth it.

And nothing happened. Not yet, at least. It was nice to complain about your parents to somebody who understood, and the two of you got along in every other aspect too. There was that tension that always hung there whenever the two of you hung out. In the backseat of your car, the alleyway behind his house. The little voice that whispered in the back of head for more, for you to bridge that little gap the two of you were teetering on. But you ignored it, because it was bad enough you two were even friends. Let alone anything else.

But good things never last, and you get found out.

It’s after school, once you’d finished the tutoring gig you have on the side for extra credit in history. Your car was at the shop, and your bus decided it didn’t want to show up that day, so you called the only person you knew with a vehicle (and the only person you wanted to call). 

He got here quicker than you thought he would and you frown as the motorbike revs its way into the parking lot. He parked the bike and ripped the helmet off his head. Touya looked far too happy as he hopped off, immediately dumping a helmet in your hands. You quickly text your dad that your friend Rumi was driving you home. It’s not like he’d know. He was at some country club thing across town.

“I knew you’d give in.” He teased.

You pouted and held it for a moment. “I can’t believe I'm going to die at eighteen on a motorbike.”

Touya tutted. “None of that talk. This will be fun.” He whispered the last word, his low drawl sending a shiver up your spine.

You brushed him off, patting your hair down so you could fit the helmet on your head. It was big and bulky, and you lifted up the visor to look at him.

“Aw. You look cute.”

“At least I’ll die pretty.”

He pulled the visor down and knocked the side of the helmet. “Stop talking about dying. I’ll protect you, sweetheart.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Enough. Okay. How do we do this?”

Touya sat down on the motorbike. When his legs curved over the side you noticed they were more muscular than you first ever realised, even in the grey sweats he had on. He patted the seat behind him.

“On you get.”

You sighed. You made sure your bag was secured on your back, and gingerly hopped on. You pulled down your skirt as it hitched up your legs, and tried to ignore Touya’s eyes burning holes in your skin. You gripped the edge of the seat and Touya laughed.

“No can do, doll. You gotta hold me.”

Right. That made more sense. 

Your arms reached and curled around his middle, resting on his waist. You felt the hard line of muscle on his stomach, and you felt his chest rumble as he laughed once more.

“Closer. Come on, I don’t bite. Not unless you ask me to.”

You mumbled some choice words under your breath before you scooted closer. “Alright. I’m ready.”

“You sure?” He asked, clipping in his own helmet.

“I guess so.” 

The motorbike revved to life and you yelped. Your hands immediately gripped him tighter, and as Touya pulled out the parking lot and started driving you’re sure you almost suffocated him with how hard you were holding on. You couldn’t think about the fact he smelled like cigarettes and something musky, because wind was rushing through your hair and face, even where your face was pressed against his back. But, regardless of all that, it was great. Thrilling and adrenaline inducing in a way you hadn’t felt before.

“It’s good, right?” He yelled and you nodded, a smile almost splitting your face in half.

You made it home sooner than you’d have liked. You hopped off the bike, hair sticking on end as you took the helmet off.

“That was fun! Terrifying, but fun.” You yelled. Your ears were a little blocked from the rush of wind.

He fixed the hairs on your head that were sticking all over the place. His hands were bigger than yours but he was gentle as he brushed a strand of hair off your face.

“I told you I wouldn't kill you. Maybe next time you can drive.” His voice was softer than usual, and it made you feel warm.

“Oh, this is never happening again, trust me.”

“I agree.”

You froze. Touya froze too, and you cursed under your breath because that was your father’s voice. Your father who was supposed to be at some country club event right now, which is why you asked Touya to drop you home in the first place. Your face burned red and you turned to see him standing at the front door fuming, staring at the two of you. You immediately stepped away from Touya, and you thought that maybe for one second he didn’t recognise him, that some elaborate lie could get you out of this mess.

“Get off my property, Todoroki, before I call the police.” His voice was clipped and angry.

Fuck. “Dad, it’s-“

He looked at you with an expression so cold and disappointed it silenced you almost instantly. You faltered, turning to Touya. He looked just as caught in the headlights as you did. He stepped forward, to say something, cut through the tension that surrounded your front lawn, but your dad didn’t let him get a word in.

He pulled out his phone. Just held it in the air and fixed Touya with a glare. “You have about ten seconds.”

Your father was a man of his word and you’re happy Touya had some sense to believe him. He clipped his helmet back on his head, and you heard the rev of the motorcycle interrupt the silence before he drove away. 

“Dad-“

“Get inside.”

It was weird, being told off. You hadn’t been scolded like that, sat on the couch as your parents stood across from you with fury in their eyes, since you were a child. You were eighteen, for crying out loud. And yet, you still found yourself waiting for him to say something, not brave enough to storm off to your room when he looked as pissed as he did. After another few moments of aching silence, he finally spoke.

“Are you trying to destroy my work? My- My livelihood? Everything me and half the men in your family worked their whole lives for?”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “What? Dad, we were just-“

“You shouldn’t be anything with that boy! Do you even know what he’s like?” He yelled.

You sat up straighter. “He’s not a boy, Dad, he’s eighteen years old. So am I! We don’t have any business with you and Enji!”

Your dad shook his head. “It’s not about that! It’s- Do you even know his intentions? What if- His father is not a good man, Y/N. God knows what his son would turn out like.”

And you felt anger bridling between your veins, your head screaming at you to defend Touya’s name, because you know he has good intentions, that he has no business with Enji. He’s complained about him enough that you think he might hate him more than your own father does. 

He cursed under his breath. He sat down heavily on the coffee table across from you.

“Listen. I know you don’t care about this business, that you have no interest in it. That’s fine. I keep you out of it as much as I can, so I understand why you don’t realise why this is so bad.”

Your father rubbed at his eyes, and it was in moments like that you saw his age. That you noticed the wrinkles that had made home on his face, the tiredness that never seemed to leave no matter how much he slept.

“But it is bad. This- This business, it’s so competitive. Everything matters. And it looks bad for my partners if they see you together. You know how things are in this town, how much people talk, and he’s not exactly got the most picture perfect image. I mean, the dyed hair, the piercings.” Your dad shakes his head. “There’s- You know he has a criminal record? He committed arson when he was fifteen.”

“But Dad-“

“There’s no buts. Not only do this bad for me, but you said you had school, and I see you coming home on a motorbike when me and your mother aren’t home. All  because of that boy.” He spits.

“I didn’t lie, I did have school. He was just dropping me home!”

“You told me Rumi was dropping you home. So you lied. And I’m sure it’s not the first time. Don’t think we don’t know you’ve been sneaking out.”

Your face burned red. You didn’t even try to deny it and. Your father nodded his head. “See? We thought it was just- Rebellious teenager stuff. But now I know you were probably going out to see him.”

Your father stopped you before you could try defend yourself. “You’re grounded. School and then work and then home. No more sneaking out and no more motorbikes.”

Your mouth gaped open. “What? I don’t even get to defend myself?”

“No. Go to your room.” 

“I’m not a child, dad! You can’t ground me!” You spluttered, but he shrugged.

“You’re still living under my roof, and I'm still paying for everything. So yeah, I can ground you.”

It was a bit hard to defend your maturity when you did indeed storm into your room like a child. It was a surprise you didn’t get in even more trouble for your little outburst. You’re sure if your father wasn’t as tired as he was he would’ve doubled your punishment for talking back like you did. 

So you stopped talking to Touya. You didn't want to, but the watchful eyes of your parents and the guilt from that exhausted look that you put on your fathers face was sort of eating you up. You never really thought about the fact that he would’ve wanted you to take over the business, like he took it from his father. How much it all meant to him. You didn’t understand the logistics of his business because you never cared to and you can’t help but feel a little horrible because of it.

So you started leaving Touya on delivered. You replied less and you ignored the heavy weight on your chest it caused and the fact that you missed him more each second he was away. You knew if you entertained his conversation even slightly you’d be back to sneaking out and finding him in town, so you tried as best as you could to keep your distance. You felt bad that you couldn’t explain why. But the truth is you barely understood why yourself.

You worked and studied and came home just like your parents asked, desperate for your freedom and less of their overbearing eyes on you all the time.

But you couldn’t avoid Touya forever, and soon enough, there’s another party your whole family is expected to be at, some community thing that apparently everyone in town is going to. Your fathers up for an award and he wants you there. You’ve been informed your grounding will be lifted if you can show up and look the part, so you’re sort of excited to go, if more for the outcome than the event itself.

You wear a dark blue dress, the slit coming up to your thigh. The soft, silk material shines as it catches the light, and you pair it with a gold necklace your mother had bought you years ago. You do your makeup and fix your hair, spritzing yourself with your most expensive perfume. You’re not stupid. You know Touya is going to be there, so you may as well dress the part in case he catches a glimpse of you.

And, low and behold, he does. You’ve seen him once tonight. He’s wearing a black suit and a black button up and he sticks out like a sore thumb in between his family, but you know he doesn’t care. He looks bored and it’s a good look on him. His jaw is set and he sips in a glass of champagne. He notices you just once, blue eyes locking onto yours. They look at your face, drop to the exposed skin of your legs and collarbones. And then they look away.

You last about an hour of speeches and clapping before you find yourself outside. Today's venue is fancier and security guarded, so instead of exploring, you just stand outside, a ways away from the door. You wish you could go home but your ride is inside and probably still pissed at you. You itch for a cigarette and the boy who comes with them.

You know that you could probably call him right now and he’d come out, but. You feel some obligation to your family. To your father. It’s the least you could do to keep your hands off him tonight of all nights.

“You wanna share?”

You turn, and like you knew deep down, he’s there. It took him about ten minutes, but you knew he’d follow you out. You were hoping for it, relally. To get a glimpse of him alone, like he was really all for you. He’s illuminated by the moonlight and the soft glow of the streetlight you were leaning on. You look at the cigarette waiting patiently in his hands, and you look away.

“No, thanks.”

You can hear cars driving a couple streets down. The night air is cold, and your hands rub up and down your arms to try to warm you up. Touya nudges your arm and when you look, his suit jacket is in his hands.

“I’m alright.”

Touya frowns. “So that’s it? You’re just never going to speak to me again?”

You shake your head, turning away. “It’s- I can’t, Touya.”

And he scoffs, incredulous. He pulls you back and his skin is warm even outside. And when you face him, he looks desperate, and you want to turn away. He doesn’t let go of you though, and holds you in place.

“You can. Who gives a shit what our parents want?”

“I do!” You yell. “Touya, you know what our fathers are like. This- This business is everything for them!” 

“Okay? And what does that have to do with us?” He says, his grip tightening. 

“It-“  You struggle for the words like they’re stuck in your throat. “It has everything to do with us, come on, Touya. You know that.”

Even this, just talking to him is enough to have your parents mad at you. And if anyone inside catches this? Catches the way his hands are sliding down your arms to hold yours, the way you’re looking up at him? You’re dead.

“I don’t know. I- God. You make me sound so whipped.” 

He mumbles the last sentence like it’s just meant for him. At the confused look on your face he smiles, bittersweet and aching.

“I don’t know what it has to do with us, Y/N.” And it’s your name that leaves his lips, not some stupid nickname, and it tugs at your heart. “I don’t know and honestly, I don’t care.”

“I’m not taking over the business. I don’t give a shit about my dad and everything he stands for. I give a shit about you. I know that- there’s probably a hundred other guys that are probably way more deserving of you but.” 

He swallows roughly. Runs a hand through perfectly imperfect hair, then immediately comes back to hold you. 

“But I like you. Okay? I- I like you and I don’t care that our parents are fucking company rivals, I couldn’t give less of a shit. I really like you. And- you not talking to me for the past few days? It’s fucking killing me.”

“I-“ 

But he cuts you off. “Don’t lie. Okay? Don’t lie to me. Don’t act like you don’t feel the same way.”

He steps closer. Your hand comes up and rests on his chest and you think you can feel his heartbeat.

“Touya. I don’t- I don’t know.”

Your fingers curl in his shirt. The fabric feels expensive in your hands, rough against the smoothness of his skin. The distance between you is so small, yet you feel like it might take everything in you to pull him closer. His hands slide from your hands to settle against your waist and they burn through the layers of your dress. 

You can hear the sound of music slipping out from under the doors. You wonder how long it will take for someone to notice you’re missing, and you wonder if you’ll be here with Touya when they do. You can only imagine the look on your fathers face, the look on Enji, if they caught you two even talking. Let alone whatever this is.

The dress you’re wearing does nothing to protect you from the cold, but you don’t think it’s the reason you’re shivering. It’s wrong. God, it’s so wrong that you can feel it physically, the cells in your body urging you to pull away.

But he’s looking at you like nobody ever has. Eyes flirting from your lips, to the slope of your nose, the heat you can feel colouring your cheeks. There’s a look of desperation in his face you’d feel horrible to ignore, like he might die if he goes one more second without you. The streetlight casts shards of light across his face and you’re certain the person standing in front of you can’t be human. You find him beautiful in a way you didn’t think was possible, and you’re scared and begging that he knows that.

You stand, silent and breathing, for what might be a lifetime. You’re both daring the other to make the first move. Both too scared to ask for what you want.

Touya lifts his hand. He curls it around your face, rests it against the space in between your neck, just where it meets your shoulder. He asks. Silent and still somehow the loudest thing you’ve ever heard.

A nod. Imperceptible at best, but enough. Enough for someone desperately searching for it. 

A breath.

And then he’s on you. His hands pull you closer and your own curve against the slope of his jaw, scratching against the faint stubble on his chin. And his lips are rough and pressing as they melt against your own, like he’s trying to fit himself inside your mouth. He bites at your bottom lip and your mouth opens with a soft noise, and he’s licking, tongue searching your gums and the uneven line of your teeth. 

You push him back, panting for breath. “We- Touya, chill.” You laugh breathlessly as his lips trail down your neck, licking at your pulse and biting at the soft skin of your shoulders.

“No.”

“Someone could walk out and see us.” You whisper weakly. 

“Don’t care. I’d fuck you in front of them all.”

“Touya.” You scold, blushing furiously.

You finally push him back properly. Your hands come up and land on his face, thumb brushing the globe of his cheeks. His face is flushed and warm and his lips look so kissed and swollen. He blinks impossibly long lashes at you and you smile despite yourself.

“I like you too. Obviously. I just- You need to give me time. To figure this all out.”

He swallows and you watch his Adam Apple bob. 

“I know you don’t care about what your father thinks, but I do. And- I need to find a way to convince him. Then, we can see.”

Touya nods. He waits a beat. “Does this mean you’ll stop ignoring me?” 

Guilt clenches in your stomach. “Yes. Sorry about that.” You say sheepishly.

He hums. “I think I’ll need a few more kisses first before I forgive you.”

“Degenerate. Pass me that cigarette.” 

—————————————————————————-

Touya Todoroki I’ll never forget u.. we r five years strong ☺️ I hate this slightly but I also love it.. so who knows

my period was late so it’s so painful and bad.. keep me I. Ur prayers people

As always hope u enjoyed <3

[nightscythe]

the primarchs as dom/sub

sorry if this has been done before, I just couldn't get it out of my head. based this on my more dark view of the lore/universe and how I write them. there is a secret third (sixth?) option, vanilla.

nsfw, 18+ below the cut. mostly pre-heresy

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the lion: dom. top of the charts. in his everyone is there to serve him, and you are no different. into all that humiliation and degradation, thoroughly enjoys the way you writhe under him and beg him so desperately. he'll hold your face towards him and ask you if you really deserve him in that way. makes you beg until you're crying. he just looks at you lovingly and finally gives you what you want, not before he makes it agonisingly slow for you. will still please you just to prove a point and he's surprisingly good at it, especially with his huge hands and his tongue. loves you deep down, but truly believes its his place to be above you and telling you what to do. gets you to clean him up afterwards and maybe lets you lay with him.

fulgrim: switch. it's too easy to say he's into everything, but I do believe he would try everything at least once, and is happy to indulge anything he likes. sometimes that's putting a collar on you and admiring his view as he tells you step by step what you'll be doing next. sometimes it's being held down to the bed with the softest of ribbons as you pour hot wax over his chest. he wants to explore what there is to offer and if you're open to it, so is he. so that does mean odd things as well, unexpected little kinks and treats along the way. admires the marks left on both your skin and his, as long as its not permanent.

perturabo: soft dom. doesn't like giving up his control to you, but doesn't reach the hard limits of dominating you fully. his touch is soft and his words and commanding, but only because he is usually like that. probably prefers to not treat you like another one of his men behind closed doors... but still doesn't want you telling him what to do. most probably tried it once and hated it (secretly didn't mind it but he struggles with actually acting submissive, as much as he wanted to be babied some more). there's not many kind words, just pulling your hair where he wants you, grunting as a return of satisfaction, pushing your face into the mattress but giving you enough room to breathe. its a personality thing, really.

the khan: soft dom. he would explore with you, try many things to understand what they are and how they feel, but ultimately he wants to take care of you. the natural result of that is someone who's stroking your cheek and hushing away the tears as you choke on his cock for the seventh minute straight. calls you his baby (or like, something equivalent) as he watches you use him to get yourself off, whimpering and moaning his name, something which genuinely warms him. can make any day better for you, loves to whisper to you how much he cares for you, loves to make you forget anything bad happened with those hands and fingers of his. tucks you in afterwards, protects you with his whole being. aww.

leman: vanilla. my most controversial take. my feeling is he craves connection and someone who understands him, and he's a passionate lover. that isn't to say he wouldn't try being dominant or submissive (probably the latter less so) but his preference is vanilla. something pure filled with emotions. he's so caught up in the moment that he doesn't have time to stop and thinking about telling you to what to do and how to do it. he just goes with whatever happens. maybe externally he puts on a gruff and domineering persona but actually, that doesn't matter to him. he just wants to see you happy and whatever that takes he will do - so he'd happily try any of the kink stuff you wanted. just don't expect him to want to be called daddy/master/etc or submit to you.

dorn: switch. thought about him being vanilla but I don't think he would be. its an interesting world to explore. he's perceptive to whatever you need, but understands that one person has to take a submissive role, and one person a dominant role. maybe that goes to extremes sometimes and he's telling you to call him sir, or he's presenting himself to you tied up (because you may have enjoyed that), but mostly its just the soft things. likes it either way and lets you take control most of the time. only thing he's precious about is giving head, he will always do that in the most submissive way, like he's feasting on nectar from the gods, blessed with each move of his tongue. an interesting experience, to say the least.

curze: soft dom. thinks it is his place to be in control but isn't precious about it like some of his brothers. not as gentle or as caring as he could be during sex but he certainly takes the lead and has something to show about it. wraps his fingers around your neck, holds your hands down against the bed so you can't move, leaves bite after bite over your neck and chest until you're covered in a reminder that you are his. in the same vein, quite possessive, and his more dominant tendencies seem to come out of that is threatened. would probably overstimulate you to let out his frustrations and remind you again that you are his. greedy is the word. wants all of you, to himself, forever and ever. kinks is a different story, but is holding your head underwater until you cum a really dominant thing..?

sanguinius: sub. sorry but like, the first ever thing I thought about with him was calling him a good boy. a very soft lover in general, he lets you take control and thrives off being told how well he is doing, that he's the one who makes you feel this good. isn't afraid to whimper for you, lay down all his strength just so you can tie his pretty arms to the frame of a bed and stroke him over and over again until he begs for it. endures it all just so he can see you ride him. lets you push him around test him. oh, he loves it when you tease him. cockwarming. rubbing him through his clothes. whispering to him that he needs to wait, but doing everything in your power to make him cum there and then? would do absolutely anything for you.

ferrus: soft dom. a bit vanilla at first, with actions and feelings not being his strongest selling point. a man of practicalities seeks to understand everything about you and learn your interests. but of course strength and perfection is key to him. everything he does is dominant. it starts with seeking you out, pushing you against the wall, lips ghosting your ear as you feel how much he needs you. the smirk when he feels how wet you are from just... the thought of him. every movement is precise, and equally intense. you feel all of him, and he makes sure you understand that he is in control here. making up with him in this manner may result in more dominant, hot tempered moments, telling you exactly what he's going to do, and you're going to like.

angron: vanilla. maybe a bit controversial as well. was thinking soft dom but then changed my mind, he's just naturally imposing and domineering but not dominant. when he had the capability to understand love and relationships in that way, I feel it was very personal to him. he wanted to feel the truth, not arbitrary words of praise or command. so therefore it does not steer in a particularly dominant or submission direction for either of you, it's a moment of you being truly together. probably the least kinky as well imo. as time progresses it becomes more feral, more of an untamed desire, which is still unmatched to either side. personality wise he is probably more dominant though so take that as you will.

guilliman: soft sub. but like close to vanilla. he doesn't need to be told what to do or pushed around, but just a little guidance. someone to kneel beside him, stroke him slowly, maybe play around with him to test his limits, really learn to understand him. very eager to please you especially when he's between your legs looking up at you with his eyes wet and eyes devious. just tell him he did well, you enjoyed it. makes him come back for more. almost a bit timid, afraid he may hurt you in some way, shy as well. of course by the time he is resurrected he's just baby boy™ but also a regent so the second he has some time away from, you know, being the regent, he just wants forget everything else going on and get lost in you.

mortarion: dom. how could he be anything else? at first its just letting out his frustrations but then it's something more. primal. there's no maybes with him, no suggestions. he tells you what to do and you do it. sometimes he would be a bit softer, but its rare and usually when he's tired or his mind is elsewhere. he's in control of everything, he tells you when you can cum, he tells you when you can move, and god forbid you don't listen to him. if he hasn't given you permission well... its a week of edging and desperation for you. likes seeing you helpless before him. but when it's all finished and his needs are dealt with, he's got his arms around you and he won't let go. a weird way of registering his feelings.

magnus: switch. thought about this one too long. sometimes he'd love to be cared for, have his hair stroked as you praise him. other times, he's got you up against a wall and using all that size to his advantage. kind of like exploring what their is to offer, but his preferences do not lean towards dom or sub individually, maybe just a very small amount towards sub because he feels utterly useless without being told just how well he is doing. doesn't mean he's not smug about it when he finds you alone thinking about it. that's when his more dominant side comes out. if we are talking about demon form though it's definitely dom all the time.

horus: soft dom. it's not that he can't be fully dominant. he can. but why do it when he can be taken care of with soft kisses and making you happy too? hence the soft bit. likes to watch with his hand in your hair as you suck him off. tells you to take a little more of him and softly encourages you, never forces you. it's like a subtle hint, one you will get, or he'll just add a touch more dominance for show. discovers the daddy kink by accident and is fascinated with it. show daddy what a good girl you've been. holds your hands down as he's behind you. praises you gently and rewards you for small things during the day. probably loves going down on you as well as a reward for bigger things. but he'd never take it too far, he just enjoys the simpler things.

lorgar: sub. so eager to please. wants to be rewarded. he'd be on his knees for days if you'd let him, begging, wanting a small taste. even just your scent makes him hard. would wait for your command to do anything - touch himself, touch you, etcetc. whines and whimpers until you finally let him cum each time. at first its seems like he hates it but he does very much like it. any time you don't tell him what to do he looks lost and needs your guidance. based on this he would always let you be on top and especially likes it when he can look at you and worship you. every part of your body is divine to him. any time you're apart he's thinking of you and wondering when he will next get to hear your voice command him around. whipped.

vulkan: soft dom. super protective of you and isn't afraid to show it. has you take about your day as he goes down on you. tells you not to stop and looks to you curiously when you can't get your words out straight. is always so gentle though he could never reach the level of dominance like some of his brothers, its barely even soft dom - it's gentle, passionate, but every single one of his movements means something. tells you how well you are doing as you take his whole length and holds you close. likes hearing every sound you make and still asks permission to do everything, uttering things like may I? as his lips and tongue finds your body. really cautious of hurting you.

corax: dom. nothing soft about him. maybe to everyone else he looks like he would not value anything physical, but really, he's an absolute...menace? has you over his knee letting out his frustrations one spank at a time. likes it when you cry his name. rubs you through your clothes and laughs when you're an overstimulated mess on the floor. master/slave dynamic at some points. and it feels like it goes on and on for hours with him, he plays out fantasies in his head, has you on your knees then in his lap making you watch in the mirror as you cry and beg. but afterwards he would clean you up every time and fall asleep with you between his arms because he's quietly, and a lot less obviously, devoted to you too.

alpharius: soft sub. though he could be anything. i like to think one twin is soft sub and one is soft dom, which would technically make the single entity a switch. is it too late to change? considering I see him as a bit of a yandere it may be a bit of a surprise, but his darker side is outside the bedroom. inside, he is sweet and innocent, he's begging for praise and to be held. has you straddling his lap with your fingers in his mouth making him wait patiently for you to be ready to actually please him. handsy, touches you everywhere, barely contains himself around you. you'd get suspicious when he tells you to stop, throws you onto the mattress and takes you from behind... but hey, they don't know what each other are like. daydreams about you though. has a little notebook with hearts around your name but no one can see it.

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I know not everyone will agree but I hope I at least made you think!!

[barblaz-arts]

I’ve seen you talk about Vaggie and Charlie being your two favs (which same I adore them) and Emily being you’re third…..but how do you feel about Alastor? Personally, while he is charming and entertaining and stuff…..his fanbase is obnoxious as hell. Especially some of the Charlastor shippers. I can sense the lesbiphobia from miles. I also just really dislike the blatant favoritism he gets from both the creators and the fandom. I can’t escape this guy-

I've talked about how I feel about Alastor before in a previous ask so I'll just put that back here

I totally understand how you feel, but I try really hard to not let those types of fans and antis affect how i feel about Alastor. I take a lot of care in understanding characters and the stories they're in, and I don't want any outside influence and bias to cloud my objective judgement or personal feelings.

The merch, fandom, and creator bias in favor of him is like super undeniable lmao but I actually like Alastor as much as I do any average character with his archetype. The fact that the actual show didn't let him overstay his welcome really helped, because characters like Alastor are a lot better in certain doses. Also like i said in the screenshot, he's a bigger loser than the hotshot people think he is and that's hilarious.

I think a lot of the things associated to him are just because of misguided fan content anyways. Like, all the horny art of him? That man is canonically ace. Ch*rlastor? You'd have to be blind af to think there's there's actual hope of that happening. Even r*dioapple? Lucifer still wants his wife back and Alastor is definitely plotting to kill him. Claims that he overshadowed the main cast and is the actual main character? He wasn't in all of the episodes, and only one episode in all eight focused on him, and it was the b-plot.

So yeah. Alastor himself? If I dont think about the barely recognizable schlop a huge part of the fandom likes to fantasize that he is? I have absolutely no problem with.

I've just been trying to accept the inevitable fact that he's always gonna be at the top of any popularity poll. I've just been seeing him as a mascot for the show at this point. Yunno, like how pikachu is the most popular character from pokemon even tho Ash is the main character? Or how Elsa was EVERYWHERE for years when Frozen 1 came out even tho Anna is the main protag? It just is how it is. That man is the face of Hazbin Hotel whether we like it or not. I'm not happy about it! But whatever.

[luckyorchid]

Not sure if anyone’s done this yet but like considering the fact that we’ve seen Aventurine’s multitude of outfits- yes, he’s GORGEOUS, but what about the things connected to them?

There’s two things that kinda interest me which is the aven shooter pfp and the one in the concert trailer

like i think it’s be nice to incorporate some of the hobbies or activities that are hinted from these pictures. I found this post back then, I can’t find it anymore (which is making me go insane I SWEAR I wasn’t hallucinating)

but it was like something where Aventurine was put into an interview and they asked for his hobbies and other stuff like skin care routine or his mark

If I remember it correctly, the thing I noted was that he liked to go to hotels and or have shooting practice to relax or wind down, but my first thought was. “Man, it must be lonely.”

He probably learned how to use a gun from Jade (From one of his stories, he and Jade killed a few men, I think to prove he can indeed be ‘Aventurine’?) But I feel like occasionally he just imagines shooting someone’s face to bits 😭

But again, he never says that he does these hobbies with other people, so it’s just him. There’s nothing wrong with wanting your own time of course, but how long has he just been— alone? enjoying the “luxury” by himself? How many years has he been a part of the IPC exactly and just letting his life pass through his eyes with each grand gamble. It’s almost like he’s detached, but he’s still alive, isn’t he?

And then he gets his cat cakes (I’m assuming, very recently?) (I’m sure most people think that it came from Ratio lmao)

So maybe at that point he does go home more often because there’s actually something there waiting for him, wanting to make sure he’s okay. And then maybe at some point he picked up the guitar?

Based off of the concert trailer, I can totally see him owning like that acoustic guitar that can turn electric, and learning some songs and just…relax. It’s a little healthier, he supposes, rather than drinking and gambling in those hotel-casinos.

Yes king get healthy coping mechanisms!!! I need more guitar playing Aventurine like imagine if he can play the sponge bob theme guys…

[oacest]

oacest scholars, do you have any gcest fic recs for a beginner?

we decided to answer this in brief and limit ourselves to three recs each or, as evidenced by past failures to answer this same simple and straightforward request from other people, we'd spend forever quibbling about our choices and never actually post the dang thing. here, in no particular order, are some good jumping off points:

trill's recs:

1) @snickfic's baby, you're gonna be the one that saves me, aka my fave fic (technically series, it's got two parts) in this entire fandom. in which liam gets knocked up in the mid 90s by someone who's not noel, to noel's intense anguished jealous heartbreak mild dismay. even if you're not really into mpreg this one is well worth it. the characterization is god tier. bal and i insisted that jackie, who staunchly doesn't like mpreg, read it and even she was converted.

2) i could be your lover, you could be all mine, by hapaxlegomena. a collection of unconnected porn ficlets. lots of extremely tasty stuff in here, i reread random bits of it regularly.

3) the D'YA WANT SOME? series by one of our own triumvirate, bal! im sure she's squirming in horror that im including it but it is by far the best, most well-written, most well-characterized, thoughtful, hilarious, hot, fascinating work in this whole fandom imo, and is a perfect intro to the whole concept of pre/early days oasis and what noel+liam might have been getting up to behind the scenes (as it were) before they were famous.

bal's recs:

1) Filmstar, an orphaned fic on Ao3. This one gets recced plenty but for good reason. It's very funny in a deadpan way and the Liam in it is such a perfect little weirdo. It's a great fic to start with, readable even if you don't know all the lore and whatnot.

2) outta sight and outta mind by lustmord. this author writes Trauma and specifically the brothers' trauma in a way I find endlessly compelling. (for all that Everyone Knows about their shitbag dad, it is still such an unspoken and often unpredictable presence in the room; you can't really get into them without tangoing with it in some fashion)

3) Let Me Be The One, by @savageandwise. absolutely fantastic Liam voice, this author just GETS him. I often think about this quote as a literal thesis statement for Noel's whole insane deal:

You think he's perfectly willing to allude to it in public if he's the one pulling the strings. Cause he thinks he's cleverer than the rest of the world. He thinks it's edgy and rock and roll when he does it. It's his brand of anarchy. And when you do it you're just stupid and embarrassing and determined to destroy everything.

jackie's recs:

1) Trying To Find A World That's Been and Gone by @storyshark2005. my colleagues graciously let me be the one to put it on my list because this is Thee fic. as we were all getting into Oasis initially, this fic was our constant companion and teacher, holding our hand as the fixation unraveled within us. it's a present-day fic that beautifully and masterfully unpacks the entirety of their relationship from the glory days to the estrangement and it is so jam-packed with research and details, you can just assume that everything that's being referenced is based on something that actually happened. in my opinion, this is where any new fan should start.

2) If I Had a Gun by @savageandwise. it's probably cheating to put another fic by this author when bal's already done it, but... I don't care lmao. in many ways we're splitting hairs because all this author's fics are worth your time. but I do hold a special place for this one because it so wonderfully captures the tenuousness of their dynamic at any given moment. how they could go from fighting to flirting to hating each other to needing each other in rapid succession. it feels so true.

3) Here's Looking At You, Kid by RedheadAmongWolves. don't be thrown off by the fact that this is one chapter away from completion, it's still totally worth it. the characterizations are great, the vibes draw you in, the UST is delicious. honestly, this is really meant to function as an overall author rec. there were several here I could've chosen.

[nobodysavemysoulitsperfectlyfine]

The seven as perfumes/colognes/vaguely smelling substances except I don't know anything about formulas

Note that these are probably not real things you can put in a perfume this is for fun.

Also I got a lot of this from Reddit.

Percy: Top notes would be some sort of sweet like vanilla bean, Middle notes would include seaspray and tropical fruits, and base notes would probably be a nice honey, cocoa or brown sugar sorta thing. According to my research (scrolling through Pinterest) these are typically scents you find in women's perfume.

And to assume that Percy Jackson gives a fuck about what he smells like as long as it's good. Tsk tsk. Percy probably smells like what you imagine a tropical get a way is, which sucks because he can never get that.

Annabeth: Top notes for Annabeth would definitely be of the citrus sort. Specifically lemon. It's said that her perfume was definitely lemon scented, probably because it repels spiders. The girl drowns herself in it. Also because mm yummy. Middle notes would be whatever book smell is like. Call it leather, call it sandalwood, but gawdamn. Essentially she smells liked a freshly cleaned library filled with pastries.

Lesbians flock to her whenever nearby (I'm talking about the one friend she has that hates Percy for some reason)

Leo: Say what you want, the guys a mix of the NASTIEST smells and absurdly sweet chocolate. I've been in enough car shops, mechanic wearhouses and what not to be able to know that there is NO GOD FEARING SCENTS. There's notes of Grease Oils, Sulfur, and the Giant Fennel, which is a plant said to be sweet, aromantic and spicy. Leo smells different every single day that he's working, and failing to rizz the huzz. (Did I say that right?)

Also, he really likes it if someone close to him smells like a food. ESPECIALLY when he's been working for so long and needs to eat something.

Anyways.

Jason: He probably doesn't care much for Cologne, given that most of the ones he finds are supposed to smell like animalistic and musk, when he prefers the real kind. But let's say that for the sake of fitting into Camp Jupiter or what ever, he's wearing the normal stuff. I want to say linen for some reason. But no. There's notes of Petrichor for right after he used his powers (basically the smell of thunder), Metallic and soft earth smells. Jason smells like air right before a storm hits, where the air is misty, the winds slowly picking up, but nothings gone South. Not yet.

Wear an aphrodisiac around him and this man will FREEZE. Like, legitimately. Jason's the type of guy to be so afraid of making one of his friend's uncomfortable that his first instinct will be to do as little as possible so he won't get carried away. People start to notice that he isn't dishing out hugs or friendly touches often.

Frank: The cleanliest musky smell you can find. I can't describe it. Animal smells, but it doesn't get out of hand. I feel like a part of him gets nervous about everybody thinking he stinks, when it's anything but. They're intrigued, but not grossed out, per se. I think it would be hilarious if Frank's the type of person that everybody surrounds, trying to figure out what he's wearing. Sandalwood, Animals, musk, all wrapped up in a nice, evenly balanced package.

Also tell me he doesn't have a weird thing for Jasmine. I can feel it in my delusional bones.

Hazel: She might be the only person who likes the fancy French stuff and purposely wears it. Incense, bereavement flowers, Jasime because she knows Frank likes it :) Mildew, Chrysanthemums, girly takes care of herself. Hazel smells like a funeral home, except it's filled with loving family members, fresh flowers, sweet foods and precious memories.

Piper: I'm conflicted on whether or not she actually wears this stuff. Nevertheless, there's a lingering scent of every single perfume or cologne her siblings wear. And even if she's been through literal tartarus, there's still a trace of bath and body works on her, or at least some pleasant smell. I can't remember if this happened during the lost trio, but I imagine that while in the most random of places, Jason would comment on it, she would deny it, and Leo would confirm it by straight up sniffing her.

No, you know what? She gets a kick out of solely using novelty products. Think Angry Birds scented shit, Hello Kitty and Garfield, Random candy smells that have no right to exist. Jason is baffled every time.

This took a stupid long time to make just for it to not be accurate of any sort. I apologize. Maybe I'll even do more later.

[ray935sworld]

i physically NEED to know your opinions on a/b/o pedronzo

pls i need it like there is no tomorrow

-mango anon 🥭

Oh 🥭, my dear you are sending me down a spiral with this one. Funny enough I was actually thinking about a marcmarc ABO AU today 😂

Alright, first off, talking about designation. Right out of my guts, I'd say Omega Dani and Alpha Jorge. (Partially cause that's how the smut ABO scene sitting in my draft is written, ups). Just from their whole dynamic, it'd make sense to me. Dani being more calm and level headed while Jorge can be totally unhinged and easy goes over the top. Especially when it comes to Dani.

And I totally see Jorge trying to "court" Dani with his weird behavior. Cause that boy has no idea how to court an omega properly. Especially one that's older than him. So I'm putting his whole asshole behavior when they were teens as him trying to prove to an older omega that despite his age he is tough and can defend Dani. But that idiot kinda went over the top and made it look like he was fighting Dani himself rather than defending him, ups. Idiot Jorge.

And then he tried to prove himself to Dani on track. Like in his mind the omega only choses the best one so he is desprete to be the best even if it ends up with him fighting on track against Dani. And when he stepped up before him, oh Jorge was heartbroken. Definitely saw it as a set back and that he wasn't good enough yet.

Meanwhile Dani is kinda interested in Jorge but he is so not into that macho asshole imagine Jorge is pulling up.

Soooo maybe, let's say... A little break down from Jorge? Like he is trying SO HARD to get Dani to notice an like him but the more he tries the more Dani ends up hating him. So one day he is fed up. He is tired but he can't stop trying. Like he's alone and he's ready to throw away all attempts and never think of Dani again. Then he steps in the paddock and between all those 10000s of smells he immediately clocks Dani's and he's like. "Nevermind. I want that" and he's gone.

And it hunts him SO MUCH that when Dani once again ignores his attempts and wants to leave Jorge is like "No. Just fucking tell me what I have to do! I've been trying for years now. Please. Please, whatever it is, I promise I will be what you need. I'll be a good alpha. I'll be the perfect alpha for you. Just - Just let me try. I can protect you. I can defend you. I can - Please!" something like this. I imagine him angry in love if that makes sense. Like he is in love, he is soft and all, but he still has so much anger in his chest that it has covered his love up too much.

And Dani just stands there, staring at him. He stares at Jorge, not understand what is going on and then maybe he realizes that Jorge is not just the angry macho kid he thought he was. "Jorge [first time he called him by his first name if you care]... An omega doesn't need an alphas protection. We don't live in 1920s. An omega needs an alphas love"

And THAT RIGHT THERE is where Jorge understands he fucked up. So he either ends up googling or asking someone he trust. Probably an omega though. And he then starts trying to use the textbook courting way. He is polite, even though he feels really awkward. He uses all the knowledge he gathered about Dani in the years (do I think he has a small diary with all the things Dani mentioned to him/ in an interview that he likes? Yes. Yes I do.) to kinds wooh him. He buys him his favorite chocolate, flowers, a blanket, stuff like that. And then the first hoodie exchange (both had already stolen shirts from the other for the smell)

Okay now this is all still very very soft cause I think that's what's needed at first. Soooo let's spicy it up a little, shall we?

Heat or rut? So either unexpected rut with Jorge returning to his asshole tendencies and Dani being fed up and distance cause he doesn't know about the rut yet only to be found by a very desprete and begging Jorge (Dani is getting fucked into the next week after that) or unexpected heat?

Both are great BUT I think I'll go with the unexpected heat. Now what if Dani is being clingy with someone else? Maybe his teammate? Nicky Hayden? For the record this would be in a way that Dani feels sick and weak and very out of his own skin and Nicky had massive dad vibes. So nothing actually sexual. Maybe Dani is even a little bit scared cause he knows now that he and Jorge are dating, the heat will be even worst than the ones he spent alone. So either torture when he's alone or him in heat with Jorge when they hadn't really talked about the whole rut/heat thing (or for the drama, it's early in the relationship and they didn't had sex yet).

And when Jorge notices that Dani is hanging to Nicky he is kinda sad/ jealous even though he knows Nicky isn't after Dani. But still, that is his omega. He definitely hates that the Americans smell is on HIS Dani.

So once Jorge and Dani meet, it's even worst. Dani definitely can't think straight atp anymore and just straight up hangs on Jorge. Like full on, hugging his arm, forehead against his shoulder, begging him to go anywhere where they are alone. Jorge is fully concerns cause he has never seen Dani, strong, confident, cold like this. And once he understand what's going on ("Jorge... Please... Please, alpha... Said... You said you'd protect me. Please, save me. It's so hot.") OH THAT BOY IS STRESSED!

He is so scared to somehow fuck up, it's almost scary. He is taking Dani to his hotel room. (Dani by then is wearing the hoodie Jorge wore a minute ago. He was sitting on Jorge's lap during the taxi ride and Jorge was really thankful for the dark window to the driver. Heavy make out session with Dani's hand dangerous close to Jorge's pants.)

And as soon as the door is closed, the action begins. Im not gonna go into to many details cause I'm not that confident in my NSFW writing but Dani wants to ride Jorge just as hard as he rides his bike. He is screaming and wants more and more and comes more time than Jorge knew a human body was capable of. He is getting knotted and continues. (Sorry) Jorge is so in love and crazy he definitely bits Dani's shoulder. Maybe even the mating mark.

And then once the heat goes down, Jorge is slightly panicked cause he's unsure if Dani was even clear enough to actually give his concent to the whole thing. Meanwhile Dani is laying next to Jorge, really happy, still drunk on all the sex and more than happy to still have a reminder of that.

Okay now this kind of escalated. For the record I did NOT think about Pedrenzo in an ABO verse yet so if there are some things that don't add up/ make sense/ not properly thought through it's cause I made this whole thing up while writing in like 30mins.

Anyway, the other alternative would be Alpha Dani and Omega Jorge. Intresting as well. This would include a very in denial/ lying Jorge, that's trying to hide his designation from the world. So he's overly agressive in his teens to make people think he's an alpha and to keep them away from him so they don't find out the truth. His father definitely has something to do with that. And then there's alpha Dani, calm and trying not to draw to much attention on himself outside of the track. And they always seems to collide.

I'm thinking since Dani would not fit the typical alpha behavior, Jorge would call him out in one of his rages when Dani was trying to talk to him about his unsafe riding "I am NOT taking criticism from some small, weak freak. I don't care what a fake alpha like you think of me. You can't even fight properly" Now something about this hist Dani really hard cause while they subconsciously are connected and competable, both don't know yet. So hearing *his* omega call him fake, weak and especially small (biggest insecurity and so far Jorge was the only one not to throw this at him) this would definitely bring a scar he can't explain himself.

So what if Dani starts keeping his distance from Jorge and since Jorge is an omega this would cause him loss of anxiety and frustration cause he knows he shouldn't act the way he did towards *his* alpha.

Next point would be, idk how but somehow Dani ends up being stressed and sad and panicked. (Maybe a crash?) and he hides in a dark corner having a panic attack and Jorge ends up looking for him. Like he is already distressed and suddenly he smeels Dani having a panic attack and all the fights are forgotten. He is going to comfort Dani. Especially after what he said. So he does exactly does.

Jorge sits down next to him. "What do you want? Do you want to yell at me again and call me fake? Weak? Small? The useless pedrosa, can't even be a real alpha and-" And Jorge just hugs him. Dani accepts and Jorge leans against him, head against his chest and he apologizes and tells him the truth.

And after that Dani is slowly starting to court him. He shows Jorge love and they are happy. *possible unexpected rut/heat - but in this case actually preferably Dani being in rut to make Jorge fully understand how crazy Dani is about Dani*

Thoughts? Did you like it?

[chrollospsychologist]

Tanjiro

This man worships the ground you walk on. No, literally, he would drop to his knees and wipe the dirt off your shoes with his haori.

He loves hugging you—he says your warmth feels like home. He’s always rubbing your arms, back, or belly absentmindedly while talking.

If anyone so much as thinks about making a comment on your body, Tanjiro will sense it before they even speak and shut that down IMMEDIATELY. His tone is still polite, but his eyes? Unforgiving.

“I don’t know why you thought that was an appropriate thing to say. Maybe rethink that before you say anything else, hm?”

Loves carrying you. You think he’s joking when he offers, but he’s not. Easily lifts you like you weigh nothing, and he’s so proud about it. “See? Told you I could do it!”

Learns how to take care of your hair like it’s breathing technique training. He watches intently when you do your wash day routine, making mental notes. The first time he helps, he moves so gently, treating your scalp like sacred ground.

“Tell me if I’m doing this wrong,” he whispers, massaging the oil in. You swear you almost fall asleep.

Scalp massages that make you MELT.

Thinks your cooking is god-tier. You made him jollof rice once, and he nearly cried. “This is better than Udon,” he says as he stuffs his mouth til his cheeks are protruding outwards, with the most serious expression. You laugh, but he’s deadass. You catch him trying to recreate it in secret, mumbling about “honoring tradition.”

Values your strength over everything. You tell him stories about growing up—how you had to work twice as hard, push past stereotypes, and stand tall no matter what. He listens.

“You’ve had to be strong for so long,” he says one night, voice soft. “You can rest with me.”

Zenitsu

He screamed when he first saw you. Not out of fear—just pure, unfiltered admiration. “HOW CAN SOMEONE BE SO BEAUTIFUL?!?!”

This man is CLINGY. He will attach himself to you at any given moment, draped across your lap, hugging your waist, or just resting his head against your chest. He calls it his “safe place.” :eyeroll

He loves buying you gifts, especially jewelry that compliments your skin tone. “Gold/copper looks so good on you, babe!”

Compliments you at least ten times a day. “You’re so soft. You're the best girl ever. You’re literally the love of my life.”

If someone says anything negative about your body, Zenitsu goes FULL THUNDERCLAP AND FLASH on them. They won’t even have time to regret their words.

Will cry over how beautiful you are. Not an exaggeration. If you dress up for a date, he might actually tear up. “I don’t deserve you… you’re divine…”

Overdramatic but in the best way. You wear a sundress one day, and he faints. You twist your hair up? “You’re a queen.” You walk into a room? “Oh, we’re so blessed.” Sometimes it’s silly, but when he says, “You deserve to be adored every second of the day,” you know he means it.

Goes through phases with your hair. First, he’s scared to touch it. Then, he’s obsessed. Tries to “help” braid it once but gets frustrated within five minutes. “How do you do this every week? Your fingers must be blessed by the gods!” Ends up just watching YouTube tutorials and taking notes so he can at least detangle it right.

Buys you clothes he knows will hug your curves just right. He’s your personal stylist, making sure every outfit makes you feel confident. “You’re literally a goddess. We have to showcase that.”

Loves playing with your hands. He’ll trace his fingers over your knuckles, kiss your palms, and interlock fingers just to feel close to you. “Your hands are so soft… just like the rest of you~”

Inosuke

At first, he didn’t understand why you were insecure about your body. “You’re strong, right? You’re soft, but you’re still strong. That’s all that matters.”

He thinks your thighs are the best pillows. Falls asleep with his head on them all the time.

Brrrraaaagggs about you to random people. “My woman? The most beautiful woman in the world! No one else compares!!!”

Accidentally matches your energy. You side-eye a stranger? He side-eyes them harder. You start talking with your hands? Now he’s really talking with his hands. “Why you acting like me?” “You act like this, so now I act like this.”

He doesn’t let ANYONE disrespect you. The moment someone even looks at you wrong, he’s ready to fight.

Inosuke is surprisingly gentle with you. He’s loud and brash with others, but when it comes to you? His touch is careful, his voice softer. You’re his queen, and he treats you like it.

Loves resting his hands on your belly. Not in a teasing way—he just likes the warmth. Sometimes he pats it and hums in approval. “Comfy…”

Yuji

This boy is your biggest fan. He hypes you up more than you hype yourself up. “Look at my girl! Just LOOK AT HER. She’s GORGEOUS.” Hands flailing and errthang.

Has no spice tolerance but tries SO HARD. You give him a plate of pepper soup, and he’s struggling, but he refuses to tap out. “I love it,” he chokes out, sweating. You hand him water. “Admit defeat.” “NEVER.”

He’s always touching you—holding or fiddling with your hand, wrapping his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. Physical affection is his love language.

Loves going out with you, could be anywhere, he cherishes every moment. He loves going shopping with you.

When you’re cuddling, he loves tracing little patterns on your arms and thighs, pressing soft kisses to your skin every few minutes.

Yuji is a lot more attentive than what people give him credit for.

Thinks your family’s side-eyes are the funniest thing ever. You don’t even have to speak sometimes; your expression says it all. He starts doing it too. “That’s not how we do it,” he whispers at a restaurant when he sees unseasoned food. You’ve corrupted him.

Takes random pictures of you all the time. Even if you think you look bad, he insists otherwise. “Nope. You’re breathtaking. End of discussion.”

Chrollo

Chrollo finds beauty in all things, but with you? He’s utterly captivated. Every curve, every dip, every inch of your skin is a masterpiece to him.

He always talks about you like you’re a rare, exquisite art piece. “She moves with the grace of a queen, and her presence alone demands reverence.”

He loves reading poetry to you while tracing slow circles on your skin. “Every poet wishes they could capture your essence in words, but they all fall short.”

Writes poetry about you. You’ll wake up to handwritten notes describing your beauty in the most devastatingly romantic ways.

Buys silk scarves for your hair like they’re artifacts. You mention needing a new scarf? The next day, he gifts you one that’s imported. “I researched the best fabric for your curls,” he says like it’s a thesis.

Buys you the most luxurious clothes and accessories. He has a particular weakness for seeing you in silk and velvet. “It compliments your figure beautifully.”

You’re the only one who can humble him. Others fear him, but you? “If you don’t sit down somewhere,” you say, and he actually does. When he gets dramatic, you just give him a look. “My apologies,” he says immediately.

If anyone dares to insult you, they simply disappear. No one knows what happened. No one asks.

Okarun

This boy is absolutely down bad for you. The first time he saw you, he nearly malfunctioned.

He blushes EVERY time you touch him, no matter how small the gesture. “W-why are you so soft…?!”

You catch him staring at you all the time, completely mesmerized. If you call him out on it, he gets all flustered. “I-I wasn’t staring! …Okay, maybe a little.”

He is your personal hype man. “You’re so cool. So pretty. So amazing. How did I get so lucky?!”

Gets overwhelmed when you wear something form-fitting. He short-circuits. Stares. Mouth open. Blushes so hard he might pass out. “U-Uh… wow.”

Loves cuddling into your chest. It’s his safe space. If he’s stressed, he’ll just bury his face there and mumble, “Five more minutes, please…”

Calls you the strongest person he knows. Not just physically—he admires your mind, your resilience.

Has a phase where he just loves your accent, slang, and language. You call him “boo,” and he’s grinning for days. You switch between English and your parents’ language? He’s trying to learn. “What does that mean? Say it again.”

Thinks protective styles are sorcery. You get braids done, and he’s baffled. “How long did that take?!” You let him touch them, and he treats them like royalty. “This is so cool…”

Loves watching you dance. At a party, you hit a move, and he’s just staring. You pull him in, and he’s awkward at first, but he tries. “Am I doing it right?” “...Bless your heart.”

[wisteriahyacinth]

@fhfnejd @alwaysstreetsahead thank you for caring 🥺😭😥 here is part 2. Going more in depth.

I think the main reason why I'd struggle to be friends with everyone is because of the timing. The best way I could describe it is if you wanted to make friends with a stranger at a funeral. Like, you know you're never gonna see them ever again, but the timing to make friends is SO BAD.

I'd also like to add that I have like 0 social skills online and irl, so there's that. I overthink, get intimidated easily, and I always wonder if my friends are actually my friends. Like.. lukewarm friends aren't a consept to me. You're either a friend, or not.

First off, Luke:

I feel like he already has such a disconnect with everyone at camp except for Annabeth. He probably saw everyone as a duty or a responsibility. He'd probably be nice to me, as he was nice to pretty much everyone, even Percy. He literally stole stuff just for him. But I feel like I'd wonder if he'd see me as a friend, which probably wouldn't make me think we were. We could bond over parent stuff cuz duh, but then again, I don't think we'd be close so I wouldn't consider him a friend.

Next, Percy. He gives off not the energy I'd vibe with. He's.. mischievous? Trickster-y? Not necessarily a person I'd gravitate toward. I'd probably avoid him. But if I didn't avoid him, again, I'd probably feel bad for trying to comr up to him when he's mourning over the loss of his mom. Then of course after TLT he's like super popular and busy and stressed. I don't think I'd have the courage to walk up to someone like him. He's charismatic and charming. Not a person I'd feel comfortable yapping my interests to.

Annabeth: knowing Athena kids and their fatal flae of pride, I'd probably.. really dislike her? I'd feel threatened and unhappy. But again if I wanted to walk up to her, she's again super intimidating. She's an amazing strategist and fighter even before the og series. Like.. i know for a fact that I'd suck at everything demigodly, (despite the quiz saying im an athena kid, which NO I WANNA BE A HERMES KID, I AM NOT SMART) and i don't think Annabeth would want to be friends with me. She also just seems really cold. I feel like what would happen is that we'd meet at the arts and crafts area or library, and she'd either look very busy, or if I tried to talk to her, she would probably look uninterested and I'd overthing, causing me to ignore her forever (EVEN IF THE QUIZ SAYS SHE'S MY SISTER)

Jason: there are 2 ways we could go about this. Either im a roman camper or a greek camper. Let's start with roman

Roman- if I was a Roman camper, I assume I'd be put in the worst cohort. Perfect since Jason belongs there. BUT! Knowing his reputation, he'd probably really intimidate me. Like yeah, he tried his goddamn best to be down to earth, but I have the strange feeling that he'd be.. like Mai from ATLA? Just, trying his best to be down to earth and normal, but also walking a tightrope to use his power and influence to make things better. He has to be rigid and stiff for people to respect him enough to make changes. Like.. maybe I'd be friends with him, but I try really really hard to be friends with someone. This might cause him to think that I have bad intentions when in reality, im just insecure. He'd probably be friends with me, because I know I'd be like at the very bottom of the rank, but then again, i feel like I'd worry if our friendship was genuine.

Greek- If I was greek, I'd probably just seem him come into camp one day using the roman names of the gods. Which probably would put me off, but i don't think it would stop me from wanting to be friends with him. I just think that with him being all busy with the quest and stuff, that I'd have no time to get to know him and that I'd still probably be intimidated by him. If not by him, then I'd probably be scared of Piper hating me for wanting to be friends with him.

Piper: Knowing me, I'd probably try to make friends with Jason first. This could make her potentially dislike me. But if I didn't, I don't know if I'd have enough in common with her to be friends with her. Just thinking about her character, I don't know if she'd be willing to listen to be ramble about random things. It'd probably be like with Annabeth, where I try to talk to her, then I end up not knowing how to continue the conversation, and then overthink causing me to just completely avoid her.

Leo: I might actually become friends with Leo, assuming he isn't stuck in his cabin? Like.. he seems funny, and I know for a fact that I'd see through his facade cuz I RELATE BRO. Like, I may not know WHY, but I know we'd relate to each other. He seems charming enough for me to want to get to know him, but also not very cold or judgemental, which may make me inclined to talk to him. I just don't know if we'd have much of a friendship cuz duh, main characters have too interesting of lives and basically forget friendships with characters that aren't main characters. :(

Frank: Frank seems to be.. normal and approachable. Like.. he doesn't strike me as a person whp would judge me for being weird. And I feel like we'd relate to not associating with our godly parents. Like i took the quiz and got Athena, but i associate more with hermes. Because strategy n stuff, i suck at, but Luke in TLT described Hermes kids as jacks of all trades and masters of none, which feels perfect for me. Just like how Frank felt like he didn't fit in with the typical child of Mars stuff and preferred to be seen as a child of Apollo.

Hazel: She also seems like Frank, very sweet and nice and normal. She doesn't seem like she'd judge me. She might scare me a bit because she can be very strong, but hey, that just means that if she saw me feeling insecure about my friendship with her, she'd reassure me strongly.

Grover: I might become friends with Grover? The only thing is that I wonder if I'd feel secure. Because like.. what if he only became friends with me because of his job of being a protector?

Silena: I think I'd become friends with her. She just seems like a sweet person. All she wants to do is make things better. Especially with the Aphrodite rite of passage. She seems to be a good person who will do the right thing when it's needed.

Will: I don't know, because again, he has so many responsibilities. He'd probably intimidate the hell out of me. And the timing too! I could have made friends with him in like.. TTC? But.. I dunno.

Nico: HOW WOULD I MAKE FRIENDS WITH THIS GUY?? HE'D SCARE THE HELL OUT OF ME. Like.. there's a chance that I'd want to be friends with him. He's a loner, im a loner, it makes sense. But also.. i imagine him to just look constantly unhappy. I feel like I'd fear him getting angry at me. I'd probably try to talk to him about.. something? Maybe something nerdy if I snooped enough to know that about him? But I really don't know if he'd be willing to listen to me talk about Superman for 2 hours.

Reyna: Reyna is just like Jason. She's just.. so stiff and rigid. Like.. she just looks so intimidating. Assuming im a roman in this scenario, when she first gets to camp, she's probably already very skilled. I could have tried making friends with her, but then again, she was like Jason. A perfect candidate to be preator. Someone who is seen like that is very responsible, very put together. Aka, the perfect person to scare me away and make me feel self-conscious. I'd probably have a better chance making friends with Jason compared to Reyna.

Rachel: There's just no way. She's like.. a minor celebrity or something? Rich and powerful and an activist. I could very well have become friends with her talking about activism stuff, but she's also rich and well, she just seems like a person who'd make me insecure again.

Thalia: There is literally no time in which a regular camper could talk to Thalia. She gets revived then is sent on a mission to get Nico and Bianca. Then there's the whole quest in TTC then she becomes a hunter. WHERE IN THAT TIME AM I, A REGULAR CAMPER SUPPOSED TO TALK TO HER?? Also she's punk.. I feel like she'd scare me away. Like.. maybe I'd think really hard to talk to her. But then i feel like a convo with her might fizzle out and make me overthink again.

Is there anyone im missing? I really dunno if I should make a part 3 lol

[atimeofyourlife]

My place, your place, our place

@bucktommyfluffebruary day 9: moving in together | rated: g | wc: 666 | ao3 Buck gets ready to leave the loft for the final time

It had been a long day. Week. Weeks. For such a small space, the loft had been something of a nightmare to pack up for the move. All of his belongings seemed to multiply, needing far more boxes to pack everything into than he had been expecting. Every time he had thought he was done with an area, he would turn around and find more stuff to pack.

He could have sworn it hadn't been that difficult to move in, but then he remembered it was very different circumstances. He'd never had a place of his own before the loft. Hadn't really had stable housing from when he'd left home. Years of being on the road, sometimes in the jeep, sometimes in a motel, or in a house share with people he didn't know. Occasionally in provided accommodation like when he worked on the ranch, or when he tried out for the SEALs. It taught him to live light, consolidating most of his belongings into a pair of gym bags. Even for his first years in LA, first in the frat house with Connor and the guys, then Abby's place. Then crashing on Chimney's couch before moving on to Maddie's place. It never made sense to have much stuff.

But the loft was his space. He didn't need to be so strict about living light. He could buy things just because and not have to worry about it taking up space. He could do what he wanted to make the space feel like home.

Now, everything was boxed up. Most of it had already been moved to Tommy's, now their, place. Just the last few boxes to take out, before doing the final sweep. And final final sweep. Then it would be time for him to turn in his keys at the leasing office. And that would be the chapter of his life at the loft over.

It was kind of bittersweet. Giving up the first place he'd been able to call his own. Leaving behind the place where so many memories had been made over six years he'd lived there. Some good, some bad, some just neutral. A space where he'd fallen in and out of love. Where he'd recovered from the worst injuries the job could throw at him. Where he'd watched Jee grow up, one babysitting session at a time. A place that had seen just about every emotion he could ever experience, happiness, anger, depression, joy, fear.

He and Tommy did the final walk through together, checking every closet, every shelf. Every nook and cranny for anything he might have missed. Closing the door for the last time felt far heavier than it should.

"Are you okay?" Tommy asked as Buck locked up.

"Yeah. It's just. I'm gonna miss this place." Buck replied. "This is the longest I've live somewhere since the house I grew up in."

"You did make a lot of memories here. We made a lot of memories here."

Tommy coming over to clear the air about Eddie, then making a move on Buck, completely turning his worldview on it's head. Eddie telling Buck to call Tommy after that disastrous first date. Bringing him home after Maddie and Chimney's wedding, Tommy being half asleep against his shoulder still in his turnouts. So many dates. Tommy staying to take care of him after he dislocated his shoulder. The break up. Tommy coming over to apologize only for it to turn into them shouting at each other, getting out all of the pent up emotions, followed by them sitting down and having an actual adult talk about everything, and deciding to try again, slower this time. The first 'I love you'. Tommy asking him to move into his place when he saw the letter that had come through about renewing the lease.

"We did. Let's go make even more in our house." Buck held his hand out to Tommy and they walked away from the loft together for the final time.

[thesmashwaffle]

-- ❤️: Favorite character?

Arven. Hands down. The last character that I've loved and resonated with on this level was Hau back in Gen 7, and it takes a lot to even come close to matching that. Like, I love how many layers there is to him as a character, because while you would've expected him to be the resident asshole (a la Gladion and Bede), he turns out to be such a sweet, gentle, and sentimental guy. He was very much going through it with all the shit he was put through, and I can relate deeply to how he thinks more with his heart than his head, how he struggles to communicate with and read other people, and how much he cares about those close to him on the inside. I love him to death, and he'll go down as one of my favorite characters in all of fiction.

-- ⭐️: Favorite Team Star member?

Honestly a pretty tough choice, since there's a good bit to like about all of them, but I think Giacomo is the most compelling to me. I think his design is kickass, I admire how chill he is, and his background as the former student council president is very compelling. (Funny how two of Arven's more well known ships are with student council presidents of some shape or form)

-- 0️⃣: Favorite DLC character?

Listen, this one was a pretty hard choice between the siblings, but I might actually have to say Carmine. Like, I really didn't like her that much at first, and that was mainly because the way she treated Kieran sometimes hit a little too close to home. The way she bad talk or embarrass him in front of the player, the only real friend he made at that point, the way she brushed off some of his feelings as "teenage angst" and just him being emotional, some other stuff... It felt like a spitting image of how my brother used to treat me up until my second semester of high school. Later on though, you can see how she genuinely concerns for her brother, and realizing how she took him for granted in some ways, she comes back around exactly how my brother did. There's definitely a good few more layers to her beyond this, but all in all, she's such a well and realistically written older sibling, and I love her for that.

-- 💥: Favorite Gym leader/Elite four?

Kofu. I love his "fun uncle" energy, and he never fails to put a big fucking grin on my face whenever he's onscreen. I want to give him a hug.

-- 📝: Opinion on each of the Zero Crew? (Arven, Penny, Nemona)

Arven - I think I already said as much as I needed to before.

Penny - She didn't click with me as much as she apparently did for a lot of other people, but I really adore her and what she stands for as a character. I love how well she connects with others like Team Star even despite her introverted nature.

Nemona - Oh boy, where do I begin with you? I've said it before, but I love how she puts her own spin on the obligatory rival trope where instead of trying to be better than the player, she trains the player up to become as strong as she truly is so she can have someone to rival her strength in battle. Even besides that, she's just such a lovable character in her own ways. I adore her enthusiasm, I think her overzealousness can be funny, and she's just the kind of character you just love to love

Also, whether you ship them or just see them as friends, I don't think her dynamic with Arven is appreciated enough. Early on, they do bicker a lot, and he does claim that they "can't get along", but you can tell that she cares about him unconditionally by the way that she shows concern for his wellbeing in her first phone call. Furthermore, Arven even considered going to Nemona for help with the titans before you came along, and actually softens up on her in Area Zero when realizing how much more there is to her as a person. They still butt heads a little in the postgame, but you can tell they're getting along better by the way Nemona implies they've been talking more when bringing up Arven's suggestion for the tournament's name. I could go on for a while longer about this, but all in all, they have better chemistry than a lot of people realize.

-- 🌲: Opinion on the Kitakami siblings?

Carmine - I think I said all that I needed to before.

Kieran - Honestly such a nicely written character. I love his character arc, and as a younger sibling who was also kinda kicked around a lot, I can relate to him in some ways myself. I do like how he's sort of this subtle antagonist though, because Kieran was more or less the catalyst for literally everything that went wrong in the DLC. He was the reason the Loyal Three got revived and antagonized Ogerpon, he created a toxic environment within the League Club, and he awoke and enraged Terapagos. Like, sure, he didn't have these evil schemes and shit like Giovanni and Ghetsis, but in terms of what he was willing to do or risk for his own fulfillment, was he any different from characters like Volo or Lusamine? It's just more understandable and forgiveable in his case because he's just a kid and wasn't nearly as far gone, since he came right back around towards the end.

-- 🫐: Opinion on the BB league members?

I can't say too much for each of them individually other than Drayton, because he's the only one they did all that much with. I do like him in particular most out of the rest for how much smarter he is than he lets on and the layers he has to his character. Crispin is my second favorite of the bunch because I like his passionate energy and love for cooking, plus his blatant crush on Lacey is adorable. Speaking of, Lacey is adorable, and I kinda wish she clicked with me the same way she seemed to with a lot of others. Amarys is... Amarys. I don't want to say I disliked her, but she just isn't interesting to me as a character in the slightest. I think her design is cool, though that's really about all I can say.

-- ⏱️: Favorite Paradox Pokemon?

Penis Dragon Miraidon. The design is so fucking cool, the type combo is one I like, and I admire how both it and Koraidon have more of an established character in the story than any other box legendaries do. The closest we had to anything like it before was Nebby.

-- 💛: Favorite Paldean Pokemon?

God, that's a tough one because there's a good few that I actually really like.

I think I'm gonna have to say the Pawmot line. I like that it actually has an evolutionary line like Pikachu does, unlike the other pikaclones, and all of the designs for it are fucking adorable. I also love how stupidly busted Pawmot is against any pokemon that isn't a ground type.

-- 📖: Favorite storyline? (Ex: Mochi mayhem, Starfall street)

The Way Home. I love how it brings all three of the game's stories into one, gives such a solid introduction to Area Zero, concludes Arven's story arc, and establishes a fellowship betwixt yourself and your three friends. It's fitting that Toby Fox had a hand in this storyline's soundtrack and motifs, because it reminds me a lot of how everything was sort of tied together towards the end of Undertale's pacifist route. (Doesn't help the final boss has glowing blue eyes)

-- 🗣️: Anything you want to say about SV?

As a game, it's certainly not perfect, but in terms of damn near everything else, this might just be one of the best things to come out of Pokemon as a whole. I wish the game had more time in the oven so its flaws could be ironed out and so some people wouldn't have as much reason to drag it through the mud.

Pokemon Scarlet and Violet is easily the biggest hyperfixation I've had in years, and I'm honest to god surprised it's stuck with me this long. Then again, this series has been a part of my life for literally as long as I can remember, so what can I say?

Pokemon Scarvio themed reblog/tag game!

-- ❤️: Favorite character?

-- ⭐️: Favorite Team Star member?

-- 0️⃣: Favorite DLC character?

-- 💥: Favorite Gym leader/Elite four?

-- 📝: Opinion on each of the Zero Crew? (Arven, Penny, Nemona)

-- 🌲: Opinion on the Kitakami siblings?

-- 🫐: Opinion on the BB league members?

-- ⏱️: Favorite Paradox Pokemon?

-- 💛: Favorite Paldean Pokemon?

-- 📖: Favorite storyline? (Ex: Mochi mayhem, Starfall street)

-- 🗣️: Anything you want to say about Scarvio? (Infodump, a rant, or just other thoughts)

Feel free to infodump alongside your answers! Anyone is allowed to reblog :3

[sleep-nurse]

how it feels right now

[sonknuxadow]

LOVE LOSES !!!!!!!!!!!!

[sir-fenris]

AAAAAAAAA 🥹 I've lived for the day that I would be getting commentaries too. I can die happy. Thank you <33

Sorry for taking so long to answer. I read it before going to sleep and I giggled so much my cheeks hurt, but I was too tired to answer cohesively. And today I was busy pretty much the whole time :'(

But I was able to write this down while preparing and eating my dinner :D

(My responses organization is kinda messy, don't mind it please XD)

It is real and it is happening, I'm glad Cyrus's yearning was clear and that it seemed a strong start :) I went back and forth with SO MANY begginings, I think I wrote and deleted more than 10 completely different starting paragraphs XD.

I might put the rp on the masterpost soon! I wanted to ask you if I could, first. And find a way to organize it in a way I feel is nice to read.

And well... about the gloves, who knows? :) is it because he can use his magic with any skin contact? What I can say is that all handlers do have gloves with technology, but usually, they're are fingerless gloves. Wilson's hands and arms are fully covered.

(I already changed your emoji <3)

Yes, protection barriers makes him nauseous when he goes in, because it's designed exatcly to keep his magic contained in the tent in case he uses it unauthorized, so it gives him a bad feeling. Once Wilson gives him authorization, the barriers are set down. When the authorization is revoked, they come back up. That's one of the many reasons why Wilson has to communicate when he's about to turn the nullification back of the collar.

A lot of safety measures 😃

Well... I wouldn't say he's allowed to actually refuse food. Wilson just sometimes is "merciful" and allows him to take his breakfast after his comedown is done, because usually Cyrus feels sick before getting to work. (If Cyrus... makes a mess, yk, Wilson will have to report and take care of the situation, and that's too troublesome)

And I'm not one for underestimating trope either, but I guess in LW whump it's interesting because adds to the familiar dehumanization and because the LW is actually very powerful and that gets proven.

"ohhh :( he makes me sad I'm definitely gonna read the comfort ask"

My comfort is also whumpy, because I don't wanna spoil Cyrus too much yet, he's still on the whump arc... but I hope you find the hurt/comfort good enough XD.

":( he knelt fast then. man..."

He dropped down on his knees :') Wilson doesn't let him kneel down slowly.

And Wilson whispered the "behave". Rhe others around don't need to hear the weapon being reminded to behave, just know that it will.

About the other gifted. I'll show the sketches of the gloves soon, but you'll see that it does need a metal manipulator, or else it has to be cut off and re-made on his hand every time. It's 100% closed. So that's why they use other gifted to do it.

(Usually metalokinetics are used around for stuff like that, menial tasks. They only go to battlefield if they are strong enough to destroy enemy's weapons and machines.)

"yeah I know </3 man this is a bunch of info I know cause I've already been exposed to bits of this story but for future newcomers this is probably necessary clarification"

That was the hardest part :') I wanted anyone who didn't knew any context to be able to understand the first chapter (though that's really really hard without a beta/proof reader) and the people who did have context to enjoy it anyway, even though it's pretty much a retelling of the drabble a lot of you already read. I was afraid of giving too little information and making it hard to understand, and of giving too much information and making it too dense.

60% of the chaotic editing was because of this. And 50% of the typos is because I kept changing sentences and missing to change a word or to (like making a sentence about one of his hands, then decide it should be both hands, but forget to put one of the words in plural)

Speaking of that, I need to do a typo checking on the chapter asap... already caught 2 yesterday.

"ugh he's so well trained"

His handler is proud to hear that.

I'LL GIVE YOU ALL THE GRASS EVER SWEET LOVELY BOY </3

Own, that's adorable. He'll have grass in recovery, lots of it, don't worry.

(The bar is very low when touching grass is almost an ultimate reward...)

aaaaaaaaa? wilson my beloved he's so cold

"Wilson" and "beloved" in the same sentence is........ something I was not expecting ever. Huh.

ooooooo :D I remember wondering why the art of him showed him with blue lines in his collar when he was a threat level red!!! fascinating :3

😊 when the nullification is on, it stays blue. When he's being shocked, it flashes yellow, and when his magic is free, it turns red. :D safety measures, too.

About the withering description, thank you! I really think it might be too abstract or dense to some people, especially those who don't have any context, but there's really not much I could do. From Cyrus's view, he's not seeing what the magic is actually doing, and this needed to be included on the first chapter.

But I'll try to slide in some description from Wilson's view of his powers in a canon chapter to make it clearer, perhaps make a separate post showing his vision vs what's actually happening, if I can.

And yeah! On the drabble I was really thinking about that song. But on canon, it became more like a curious fact, because I made it so it's from another language. It doesn't have a set lyrics, though the translation would be something akin to the hurt incantation. No one knows what Cyrus's murmuring means, not even him, it's gibberish to them all.

Yeaaah! I'm happy you saw that "Sweet Creature" follows the same line that "Magic Euphoria" drabble. It's pretty much that drabble, but from his perspective, plus a bit more at the beginning and end. This chapter is the truly canon, since when I did the drabble I didn't have the characters in mind, but Cyrus really does say "yes, sir" because his conditioning runs deep. He doesn't say "okay" ever.

(But Wilson is also an unreliable narrator, so you can consider the drabble him remembering Cyrus's words to be more disobedient than it actually was, since he spoke quietly)

(Poor baby, being shocked not even knowing why, loosing his warmth, being remembered as disrespectful even when he wasn't...)

Metallokinetic whumpee is not well :(

"oooo so he has gloves on when not working got it got it. leather! I assume it's to avoid skin to skin contact? or his hands are the most effective conduit and the higher-ups don't want him touching anything with his hands?"

I like the way you're going :)

(Both Cyrus and Wilson have gloves, but Cyrud's is restrictive)

About the den (his cabin) and mattress.... eh, don't get too happy. Remember, unreliable narrator. And this ask is very important.

(Oh, you reminded me that I wanted to put the images of his cabin and capsule on the chapter, thanks, I'll do that later)

"oooo is his collar nullifying it? or the gloves? capsule??? I think it's the collar"

All of the above. Plus the glasses too. Safety measures :)

the euphoria narration thing is. so fucking good man. but why'd he get shocked?? this isn't in the wilson pov chapter 😔

First, thank you <3

Second, it's not defined, it could have been a lot of different things. But my favorite option is that he started singing without realizing it.

"someone please give him a blanket istg. I know this is a different kind of cold but can he have a blanket :("

He can only earn blanket privileges when he's at the central base. In caimpaings there are no blanket privileges.

If he's very very good, tho, he might earn one night with a blanket.

!!! sneaky :0

🥰 He would look down ashamed at your words. He really didn't mean to be... he just wanted to relieve some of the painful uneasiness.

also love that. “his handler always sees everything.” !!! love love love that love the sheer amount of fear and expecting danger

YEAAA, that's the emotions I wanted to show. Especially since Cyrus is blinded so often. He rarely knows when Wilson is looking, to what he pays attention, what is his expression. It's kinda like the Panopticon Prison. You never know when you're being watched, so you stay on edge the whole time.

Wilson is a smart handler :)

HE'S NOT EVEN ALLOWED TO MOVE WITHOUT PERMISSION??? I mean I expected that but damn. also gloves again. is it a military thing or is this the skin contact thing

He's not allowed to move in the ways Wilson doesn't approve. What moves does Wilson approve? Only Wilson knows.

Cyrus discovers when he's shocked for doing the ones on the "no" list.

And the gloves, ah the gloves. Who knows?

Wilson knows, he's the one that changed their designs too.

pfft I love those moments of like. passive caring about everyday stuff in whump. they're funny but then they're not funny

Yeah, I really like doing that :D

Cyrus doesn't want to go through an hour of Wilson getting his anger out in his hair, leaving him with a sore scalp and holding back tears. His hair is full of broken strands because of it already.

HEY DON'T CALL HIM SNEAKY I DID IT FONDLY >:(

I let out a really genuine laugh 🤣

ough.. he's so scared poor baby

Of Wilson? Always.

D: man I don't even know what to say this is just rlly fuckin good. guilt my beloved

Oh well, thank you <3

huh??? how come he didn't get physically close to any of it

His comedown has really fun hallucinations :)

Auditory, visual, gustatory, tactile, proprioceptive and interoceptive ones. Not all together or at the same comedown, it varies.

WOW!!! love the logic and treating cyrus like so much of an object wilson can just talk out loud while he's there.

:)

man. I love cyrus. I love wilson. I have so many feelings about them both... I rlly love handler whumpers those are so neat I love cold whumpers that are professional. wilson has such a presence in this chapter. cyrus is so cute I wanna wrap him in blankets...

I loved how this was like. stractured with the euphoria and comedown and everything. I also love how despite everything cyrus is still so caring towards others it's so. ough </3

Really, thank you for this <333 I'm really pleasently surprise to see people saying stuff like "doing the fenris thing" for the commentaries. It really makes me happy, like... YEAH? Please do! With me and with others. It's so cool to read these. Even tired, even busy, I just wanted to keep coming here to read yours and others comments.

So thank you <3 really enjoyed reading this, and I really like the way you think :)

-

Sweet Creature

Content: magical living weapon, dehumanization, "it" briefly used as pronoun, dangerous whumpee, magical euphoria, shock collar, sensory (visual) deprivation, manhandling, military whump, implied institutionalized whump, magical slavery, heavily implied mass murder, hallucinations.

(chapter 1) | next chapter ->

(Curse of Withering masterpost)

Cyrus wishes to at least have a look around while outside. It would only be a military camp, soldiers walking around, tents set up, maybe some horses on one side. Not a very pleasant nor interesting view.

But at least he would be seeing the sky, and the grass, and people.

He's not. He's seeing pure black from behind his nullification glasses, being guided by an unrelenting hand on his neck, just above his heavy collar. Not even allowed to feel skin, only the tough material of a glove.

Around Cyrus, talk dies down, and muttering comes to life, as he's used to. It never stops making him feel ashamed.

Also not allowed to curl up or hide in any way, he's just dragged forward to keep walking.

A strong sensation of nausea hits him when they enter his designed post tent of this campaign. It feels like the protection barriers put around the tents are getting stronger each campaign.

Being on an empty stomach doesn't help, either. Regret fills him from refusing breakfast, but he's sure his stomach wouldn't have kept it down anyway.

"... This is it? The rumors made it look spine-chilling, not... this." A voice from his right side says, a bit far back. Further into the tent, then. Cyrus doesn't recognize the voice, but the words are familiar.

The gloved hand on his neck squeezes, and he stops after a second of trying to figure out if it was out of frustration or a command to stand still.

No scolding comes, so it must have been a command. Or both.

"Wait until you see it destroying a whole military camp while laughing like a maniac," Mr. Wilson says. That voice he does recognizes in the very core of his being. And by the coldness of it, his handler is audibly used to that question as well.

Cyrus doesn't have time to feel ashamed of the words before a pressure on his neck commands him to kneel down. Even with the knee pads, a mercy not chosen by his handler, the impact hurts a bit.

"Behave." Is what reaches his ear before the leather gloves are unfastened from his wrists.

Magic wraps around the metal gloves that were beneath the leather ones and bend it open. Cyrus didn't even hear the metallokinetic's handler telling them to do that. Maybe this gifted doesn't have a handler, he knows there's some free Gifted that serve the military willingly.

Unlike Cyrus.

He obediently waits with unmoving hands until his handler applies pressure on his head in another silent command. No one speaks as the nullification glasses are unlocked from his bowed head, nor when his half-necrotic fingertips find the floor beneath him.

It's not grass, it's rocks. He suppresses a disappointed sigh.

Cyrus knows better than to look around or shift from his position, but he's still able to see a bit of the tent's inside. The metallokinetic does in fact have a handler, and a black eye. He can't see anyone else, they're all behind him for safety.

That black eye must hurt, there's probably more bruises under the clothing, it never stops at just one.

Cyrus shouldn't care that the gifted was hurt. But he did. They deserve someone to care.

Mr. Wilson blocks his vision of the gifted by crouching down. The direct, practical delineation of where the enemy camp is sinks into his mind easily as his handler speaks. It's easy to map in his head exactly where he needs to focus on.

"You have permission to use your power, Wither." An uncomfortable eagerness blooms in him at the words.

"Yes, sir," Cyrus whispers and his collar beeps, its blue lights turning red as magic comes to life under his skin once again.

𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎, 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎.

Pain doesn't even register in the sea of feelings building up in his body. The rocks puncturing the palms of his hands aren't nearly enough to ground him, not after years of the magic slowly numbing his nerves.

The tent disappears and all he can see is colors erupting from the blackness, like thousands of little roots travelling through the grass. Ignoring the surrounding life had become easier over the years, and the withering knew to travel until it's closer to the delineated area than to him before branching to reach all soldiers of the other side.

It took less than a minute for him to spiral into euphoria this time.

Faintly, he knew his lips were moving, in that same eerie murmur of always, singing words he couldn't understand, but also couldn't forget. An incantation that breaks the laws of nature. A chant that was never created... only repeated. The echo of something that always existed.

And so he repeats. From the words, waves of withering magic follows the colorful branches and pushes it forward.

His hands crack and dug further into the ground, and he repeats the chant again. Again, again, again...

𝙰𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗.

Cyrus could see, or in a way feel, the life bursting out of the enemy's camp. It was hard to separate what was greenery and what was people, but it didn't matter in the end.

Wither magic fills the entire enemy camp with thousands of black ramifications that only he sees the colors of. Growing, rotting, decaying.

Every cell in his body beams with giddy energy.

A warm mist swirls on his arms pleasantly. Something similar started filling his eyes, and Cyrus's head was pure delight. His chest shudders with a bubbly feeling as a smile grows on his face.

And then everything goes black. The cold, painful reality crashes down on him, harshly taking all the cheerfulness away and leaving behind an itch, a hysteric uneasiness. A faint beeping of his collar tells him he's done today, it had turned blue again.

Cyrus didn't even know he had made a noise until the collar beeps again with a warning electrical shock. With a flinch, he goes dead quiet. An argument was happening over his head.

Cyrus wants to keep using his magic, why can't he? It's so warm and happy-

"It was fucking smiling, it is fine to keep on! What is the point of having a weapon that can't be used?!" A man behind him almost yells. Not the same one from before, a slightly more familiar one. It might be the general, but without seeing it's hard to be sure.

Yes, Cyrus was fine to keep going, he was! It's been less than a minute with the nullification glasses back on, but he misses the colorful cheerfulness already, his body is taut with the need to move, to do something, anything.

But Mr. Wilson is right there, so he stays obediently still.

"I'm not telling it to launch an attack again! The magic would consume it's head and-" Mr. Wilson pauses, and Cyrus recognizes his temper rising. It's an effort not to flinch. "Ugh, you have no idea how bad it gets. Wither. Up, we're leaving."

"Mmn?" The order takes a second to click. "Oh... yes, sir..." To speak was hard, his tongue didn't move the okay he wanted it to. Cyrus could hear the ecstatic smile on his own voice, and he almost winces at it, but without knowing why. To smile was good, wasn't it?

Should he even be speaking, actually? Wilson doesn't usually like him speaking. Did he say "Sir" as he was supposed to? He doesn't think so... but no shock comes. Perhaps he did. It's hard to remember.

The floor seemed to spin beneath Cyrus when he stood up.

A gloved grip squeezes his arm and Cyrus knows to stay completely still, despite the dizziness. Magic envelops his hands as the metal gloves are bent to fit them again. He still couldn't hear the metallokinetic's handler telling them to do it, maybe it had been a silent command.

He feels the leather gloves being fastened on his wrists, too, before Mr. Wilson grabs him by the upper nape and guides him out. The sound of many boots around them tells him the escort team is here already.

On the way back, there's no longer any murmuring. Even blinded, he knows everyone is just staring. There's only the sound of heavy steps and the wind slowly bringing the smell of death into the camp.

The heavy metal door shuts with the escort team outside, and the only steps that echo inside the container are his and Mr. Wilson.

Blindly, he's pushed to sit inside his resting capsule. Oh, that's right, he's at a campaign, his den isn't here... the sad longing only lasts a second.

The thin mattress is cold, and the restraints are too tight. Cyrus hates the cold, but it feels so weird, he can't help but giggle. It sounds off, but he can't pinpoint why.

"Quiet," Mr. Wilson scolds sternly, fastening his legs securely inside the capsule. Cyrus flinches and tenses from the upcoming shock that doesn't arrive.

What a silly thing, to flinch from something that didn't even happen. He suppresses another fit of giggles.

The pressure building up behind his eyes and neck is getting harder to ignore. His fingers twitch with the need to use his magic again, but the nullification doesn't let him.

The pressure gets worse.

𝚂𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚞𝚜, 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎.

Now the shock comes, and Cyrus's flinch is not so funny this time. It wasn't just a warning shock, but he doesn't know why he has been punished. Mr. Wilson doesn't clarify it, either. He's scared of not knowing.

The twitches are getting worse. He wants to move. The cold is starting to creep in again, and he wants the warmth back.

His hands move slowly under the temporarily loose restrictions, trying to relieve some of the painful nervous energy without grabbing Mr. Wilson's attention.

It doesn't work. His handler always sees everything.

"Did I say you could move, Wither?" Cyrus freezes from the gelid tone. His shoulders go up chastened just before a gloved hand fists his hair harshly. That'll form a knot later... he wants to wash up and detangle his hair already, before it gets too bad.

From how harsh Mr. Wilson's grip is, he doesn't think he'll be allowed that so soon.

"Stop trying to be sneaky, that's the only warning you'll be given." Cold and firm as always. Frightening as always.

"Yes, sir," Cyrus answers quietly. It's weird how he still feels afraid and sad even when he's feeling giggly and euphoric.

Euphoric. Didn't that word mean something important? The headache is getting worse.

Mr. Wilson's grip only grows even more painful. There's more to be said, but Cyrus's head is not working well. He doesn't want to talk, he wants to move.

What weapons want doesn't matter.

He tries again. "I'm... I won't be sneaky again. I'm sorry, Mr. Wilson," he tries. The hand leaves his hair without any further words.

The need to move only gets worse in the silent. He knows Mr. Wilson knows. Cyrus's body is so tense it hurts.

He needs to use his magic, he needs to. It hurts, it's bad, he wants the giddy energy back, and not this nervous, restless cold creeping in. Everything is still pitch black, and the restraints are too heavy, and he wants his magic free again-

So you can kill more people with it?

No. What? No, no, no-

Your handler stopped you before the euphoria truly took place. Where is your gratitude, you vile thing? Why must others die just so you can smile?

That's not what he wants, he just... he just wants the colors back, the happy feeling of-

Of killing.

The memories of colored forms change. Those were people.

People you killed.

"Are you crashing already?" Comes the distant, cold voice. It takes long seconds for Cyrus to recognize it's Mr. Wilson's.

Crashing. Yes. Yes, he's crashing, and he's still on war camp, so he doesn't even get his white den-

Images strafe his mind. People died. People were killed. By him. And he was just smiling. He giggled to people losing their lives. Not only soldiers, there were medics, and servants, and-

A cold, sharp thing runs his arm and he flinched away, swallowing hard. He tastes blood. He knows it's not his.

Vile thing. You're a plague on earth that should be eradicated.

Cyrus's back presses against the capsule mattress, and he can barely separate what is real touch and what isn't. Sharp goosebumps run up his arm, his hands are being held, there's a pressure on his chest and a numbness on his left leg.

"It's euphoric state was pretty fast this time, it was a good timing to retrieve it," Mr. Wilson's out loud thinking reaches his ear along with a faint noise of screams that mustn't be true.

They're true, you're just hearing them too late.

"Today will be easy, then."

Cyrus couldn't disagree more with his handler.

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Want to see Mr. Wilson's pov? This is the drabble this series began as. You can consider it a loose version of this chapter, but in Mr. Wilson's view.

Taglist: @whump-till-ya-jump @floral-comet-whump @paingoes @bonbonbobomb @inhurtandincomfort @half-duck @scoundrelwithboba

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