#sorry to all the eri fans…..

[koimurocho]

y7 portraits ✨

[d-does-art]

HE. IS. A. DAD.

[hakusins]

cw // cursing

whitney comfort event because im having feelings

[velaversal]

BuddyBuddy

stream hero

[robertsbarbie]

i love kc but sometimes our sports teams piss me off

[hakusins]

JHERFBHERBHFJBERFHJERBJHFBJHERFHJERBFERF OH MY GOD HAPPY BIRTHDAY I HOPE YOU HAD A LOVELY DAY !!!!! YOU BEAUTIFULY CHAOTIC BEING I HOPE YOU LIVE FOR MANY MANY MORE YEARS !!!!!!!!!!! THANK YOU JERFJERF I KNOW WE DON'T SPEAK MUCH BUT YOU'RE SUCH A NICE PERSON AND I LOVED SEEING YOU ON THE EXPLORE PAGE !!!!!!!! HJBERFBHJEHJRF

ANYWAYS THANK YOU FOR DRAWING MY GIRL SHES SO SOSOOSOSOSOS BHJJRBHWFBJHFEF

[Happy Birthday to the Lonely Child.]

its still my bday shut up

anws i FINISHED!!!! AND IM TOTALLY NOT SLEEP DEPRIVED AT ALL!!!!

[lyinginmeadow]

Breakaway II. | hockey!Azriel x reader

It is finally here! Thank you all for being patient, hope the wait was worth it <3

Part I. Summary: Your brother finds out about your relationship with Azriel and he's less than fond of it. Will he come to terms with it before he ruins his relationship with his best friend and sister?

Word count: 2,7k

Warnings: Rhysand is an asshole in this one (I still love him, tho), swearing, angst, violence

A/N: I gave the reader a name, I couldn't leave her as Y/N, sorry. I tried to tag all of you, but some blogs weren’t found :((

Going on the ice after everything went to shit was not ideal. The whole team was nervous, Cassian tried to make jokes to lighted the mood, but to no avail. Rhysand wasn’t paying any attention to him. But he was pissed. Azriel never saw him this pissed. It was clear as day that the teamwork they had built over the years had just crumbled as if it were a house made of carts. And it was his fault.

‘’What’s the matter, pretty boy? Girl trouble?’’ Taunted Eris while all the players returned to the ice. His eyes flickered between Azriel and the tribunes were you were sitting. You were not looking at him, which made Az even more anxious. Instead, all your attention was on Rhysand who was returning it.

‘’Fuck off.’’ Azriel snarled, not willing to pay him any mind. Eris was trying to get rise out of him. It was how he always played. Usually, Azriel didn’t take the bait but with everything going on, Eris was getting on his last nerve.

‘’Aw, if you need her off your hands, I’ll gladly be of service.’’ He continued. Azriel clench his jaw. Thankful for the puck being dropped in the center to mark the start of the last period, he tried to shake off everything that plagued his mind and focus solely on the game.  

The last period was an utter disaster. Rhysand completely ignored every advantage Azriel made. It was becoming absurd. He knew he fucked up by not telling him about the two of you, but this was just Rhysand being Rhysand. Insufferable. Rhysand was his friend and he made it clear that you were off-limits. But Azriel couldn’t help it when it came to you. You were like a breath of fresh air. He couldn’t imagine not being with you, not wanting and loving you.

Rhys loved you and Az knew he would never hold anything against you, except for the lying. Rhys hated lying with his whole heart. All you two wanted was to share something that was exclusively yours. He also knew that you two were just trying to avoid the inevitable which he regretted. The stolen moments now tainted with this ridiculous feud. Worst of all, Azriel didn’t know how you would react to the news and he was terrified. What if you wanted nothing to do with him in order to avoid ruining the relationship with your brother?

As Eris went for the puck, Azriel snapped out of it, flying after him instead, silent as the night. He was quick, but Azriel was quicker. Everyone knew that no one on that damned rink could outskate him. But that didn’t stop Eris from trying. The game was tied, and everyone was on the verge of their seats. Azriel smiled as he neared the player, just as Eris reached the attacking zone, Azriel skated right in front of him and crouched to bodycheck Eris. He went flying right over Azriel landing on the ice with a sickening crunch. ‘’Ups.’’

Eris screamed in pain as he clutched his injured hand. Azriel usually wasn’t one to hurt his opponents, he was not a defenseman, but with everything that went to hell that day, he just couldn’t let Eris mess with his head any more than he already did. Eris finally stood up with the help of his teammates who glared in Azriel’s way, leaving the Cavaliers without one of their best players.

It was a miracle he didn’t get a penalty, but he did get booed by Cavalier’s fans. Technically, the bodycheck wasn’t against the rules. It was just unfortunate how Eris landed on his hand with his whole body weight. Some could say it was his own fault he didn’t know how to stick a landing. But Azriel couldn’t act as if he was sorry, because he simply wasn’t. That bastard deserved it. He played dirty more than once, it was time for him to finally get a taste of his own medicine. Judging by Cassian’s expression he approved. Usually, Cassian was the one to brutally bodycheck his opponents. The nickname Lord of Bloodshed, which he earned from the fans, made Azriel chuckle more than once.   

As the puck hit the ice once again, he didn’t wait for Rhys to claim the opportunity instead, when one of the opponents passed the puck, he interjected it, claiming it for himself. He glanced at the clock, realizing there were only ten more seconds in this match. He glided swiftly across the ice,  dodging other players as he reached the attack zone he smashed the puck with his stick. It wasn’t the clearest shot, but somehow it bypassed their goalie earning Velaris U a winning point. The horn rang announcing the goal. The tribunes erupted in cheers, but Az didn’t feel like celebrating.

When the Cavaliers went around to congratulate the winning team, Azriel grabbed Eris’s uninjured hand more tightly than was necessary. The player returned to the rink just for the handshakes, which Azriel did not expect. But he guessed that Eris was more of a diplomat than he believed him to be. ‘’Talk about her again, and I will break more than just your wrist.’’ He let go of his hand with a tight smile.

Usually, a win made him feel proud. All the hard work they – he – put in paid off. He loved celebrating with his teammates, and the camaraderie that came with the territory. But there was nothing to celebrate. They barely won and it was his fault.

‘’I hope you packed because you’re benched till the end of the season.’’ Rhys snarled when they left the locker room.

‘’What are you talking about?’’ Azriel whipped his head around to find the source of the interruption. He didn’t want you to be subjected to any of this, even though he knew there was no way around this conversation.  That was what got them in this mess. That and Rhys being a complete asshole.

‘’Stay out of this, Velaria.’’ Rhys signed pinching the bridge of his nose. You looked between the two most important people in your life frowning.

‘’You kicked him off the team, didn’t you? Are you serious?’’

‘’Veli…’’ Azriel started. ‘’No, Az. He’s being ridiculous. He can’t do that!’’ You yelled in frustration throwing your hands up.

‘’I can and I already did. And I don’t want you anywhere near him.’’

‘’You can’t boss me around, Rhysand. I’m not your child.’’ She snarled poison seeping through your clenched teeth.

‘’No, but you’re my sister and I will not sit around idly watching you get hurt.’’

‘’I wouldn’t hurt her, ever. And I won’t leave her, not until she says otherwise.’’

‘’You will if you know what’s good for you.’’ They stared each other down. ‘’That’s enough. We’re leaving.’’ You shot daggers in your brother’s direction as you took Azriel’s hand in yours. He looked as if he wanted to object, but you didn’t give him a chance, dragging him out of the stadium.

Mentally drained after last night's shit show, you were grateful for an empty apartment. Azriel went to pick up a few of his stuff from Rhysand’s house leaving you alone with your thoughts. You groaned loudly when you heard the doorbell ringing, so much for a calm morning.

‘’What the actual fuck?’’ Yelled a voice as soon as you opened the door.

‘’Don’t you yell at me. I didn’t want you to find out like this.’’ You turned around after closing the door of your apartment. Thankfully none of your roommates were home to witness this escapade that was undoubtedly about to unfold. Even if you would appreciate the support, you were glad Azriel wasn’t here either. The match was enough of a fiasco that you didn’t want him to be subjected to any of this. Rhysand was your brother and his hissy fits were yours to take care of.

‘’No, Velaria, you didn’t want me to find out at all.’’

’Well, I’m sorry. What else do you want me to say? I mean, look at how you’re reacting. It’s ridiculous. I am my own person, I’m an adult and I can make my own decisions. Who are you to tell me, that they are wrong, hm?’’ You were staring him down. This whole situation was blown out of proportion. But that was how Rhysand operated. Nothing concerning him was ever subtle.

‘’He sleeps around, don’t you remember how he went after Mor? Or Elain for that matter? He will dump you once you stop being exciting to him. Which I imagine will be soon now that your little charade is over.’’

‘’He’s your best friend!’’ You exclaimed.

‘’Exactly! That means I know him. You’re my sister. He’s not good for you!’’

‘’You don’t know him like I do.’’ You kept defending Azriel. It hurt you beyond belief to drive a rift between them. Ever since they met, they had been practically inseparable. You never imagined that Rhys could act like this towards someone who he considered important.

‘’He will break your fragile heart.’’

‘’My fragile little heart can take it. But what it cannot and will not tolerate is how you handled last night. I don’t want to see you unless you want to apologize.’’ With that, you pushed gaping Rhysand out of the door and smashed it in his face. He didn’t deserve any more of your time after the stunt he pulled.

The sound of a motorcycle pulled you out of your trance. ‘’Shit.’’ You gathered yourself from the floor wiping the tears and running to the bathroom to spray cold water on your face to help with the puffiness.

‘’I’m back!’’ Azriel yelled as you wiped your hands dry.

‘’Would you believe that he was not there? Also, Cassian says hi. He was very dramatic about me moving out.’’ You could hear the chuckle from your bedroom. He opened the door to your bedroom, his expression falling after taking just one look at you.

‘’Hey, hey…What’s wrong, love?’’ He crossed the room swiftly, his hands gently coming up to your face. You signed at your unsuccessful attempt to hide your emotions from him. He was always great at finding out other people’s secrets.

‘’I would imagine he was not there when he was here.’’ You whispered unwilling to hold his gaze, looking at anything else but him.

‘’What did he say?’’

‘’Pretty much the same as yesterday. He’s such a child, Az.’’ You said in a defeated tone. ‘’I’m so sorry, sweetheart.’’ He caressed your cheek finally making you lift your gaze to him to see the small smile he offered.

‘’No, it’s not your fault. Can we just…Not talk about this? Please. I want some sense of normalcy back.’’ Your tired eyes closed for a second to collect your thoughts.   

‘’Well, I did get you something I know you would like before coming back.’’ That made you open your eyes, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

‘’Really?’’ Your eyes shined which in return made his smile grow even bigger. ‘’Mhm.’’ He nodded, turning to pick up the bag off the floor. As he took the items out, a smell of fresh pastries filled the whole room making you melt instantly.

‘’You got me strawberry shortcake?’’ You squealed like a little child on Christmas day.

‘’From your favorite pastry shop.’’

‘’But that’s on the other side of the city.’’

‘’And? I would go to the end of the world just so I could see this smile.��’ Your lips wobbled tears threatening to spill out of the corners of your eyes. You launched at him nearly knocking him to the floor. He laughed catching you in a tight embrace.

‘’Thank you, Az.’’

‘’Don’t mention it.’’ You looked up eyes filled with tenderness reserved just for him.

‘’I love you, you know that?’’ His thumb found your cheek to caress it. ‘’I love you too, sweetheart.’’ He kissed you deeply, and every worry melted away just for a while.

It had been two weeks since the incident at the game and Azriel was still living at your apartment. The girls were not ecstatic at first, but his breakfasts with excellent coffee changed their minds rather quickly. You had fallen into a routine getting used to having him around and waking up next to him. It was nice, you could even imagine yourself one day living with Azriel in quiet suburbs.

‘’Velaria…’’ A voice interrupted the trail of your thoughts as you moved through the crowded halls of the campus. ‘’No, I don’t want to hear it.’’ You continued walking trying to ignore him. The day started great and you intended to keep it that way without Rhysand interfering.

‘’Please-, come on, stop. Please. You were right, okay? You were right and I want to apologize.’’ You halted, your eyebrows shooting up. Rhys had a personal problem with apologizing so this came as a surprise.

‘’I’m listening.’’ You sized him up not willing to give him anything for free.

‘’I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lashed out like that. It wasn’t my place. I shouldn’t have said those things about Azriel. He is my friend and if anyone is right for you, it would be him.’’ He stopped as if he was gathering his thoughts. ‘’I…I want you to know, that I do trust your judgment. I was just scared. You’re all grown-up but to me, you’ll always be my little sister, who needed my protection from spiders and snails.’’ Rhysand, unlike you, always looked everyone in the eyes. It may have been an intimidation tactic in most cases. But not to you, never to you, in this case, you believed he wanted you to see the regret in his eyes. And it worked because your own softened unwillingly.  

‘’Rhys…You know I will always need you. But this whole thing. You can’t do that. Ever.’’

‘’I know. And I am incredibly sorry I did, I can’t take it back even if I wanted to. And trust me, I wish I could.’’ You simply nodded thinking over his apology. ‘’I think I still need time. It hurt me what you said.’’ Resting a hand on his shoulder you gave him a light squeeze.

‘’Could you ask Azriel to stop by? I want to apologize to him, too. But I can’t seem to get hold of him. It’s like he knows how to blend in with shadows.’’ You chuckled. Azriel did have that superpower. He told you he was trying to stay out of Rhysand’s radar to not cause a bigger rift between the two of you.

‘’I’ll try my best. If you promise to let him be on the team again.’’ You bargained knowing fully well that Azriel would probably refuse a couple of times, but eventually, he would relent. He missed the rink and his teammates way too much to not come back.

‘’That’s a given. I shouldn’t have kicked him off in the first place.’’

‘’Exactly. Now I would love to chat, but I do need to get to biophysics, or the professor will kick my ass.’’

‘’We wouldn’t want that.’’ He chuckled. You hesitated for a little bit before offering him a quick hug. ‘’I missed you.’’ He smiled, he wasn’t willing to let you go, but you weren’t there quite yet, so he reluctantly let go. ‘’I missed you, too.’’ He returned the sentiment as you hurried through the halls to get to your seminar.

The last game of the season was in full swing. The winner of this game would take home the title of Champions and they were so close to claiming it. We were winning only by one goal courtesy of Rhys, but there was still one minute left and the opposing team was eager to score to at least tie the game, leaving their net empty. They were close to scoring, but then Cassian interjected their shot sending it to the middle where Rhysand was. He literally dived for the puck hitting the ice and barely pushing it with his stick in Azriel’s way who skated as if his life depended on, the other player right on his skates. He didn’t hesitate as he shot the puck into an empty net. The crowd erupted in cheers as did the commentators.

‘’They did it!’’ You squealed in cheer, jumping up, and hugging Nesta who was now on her feet as well. She smiled proudly hugging you back. ‘’Thankfully. I couldn’t handle their whining if they didn’t.’’ She rolled her eyes as you laughed. Looking back to the ice when Rhys hugged Azriel and Cassian ruffing their hair. You smiled fondly. Everything turned out great in the end.    

Taglist: @lilah-asteria , @fourthwing4ever , @acourtofbatboydreams , @kylaisra , @starswholistenanddreamsanswered, @honethatty12 , @acrawford6173

[luxthestrange]

BNHA Incorrect quotes#7 Too tired for this-

KFC Worker Y/n does not care if you are a hero, villain, civilian, or whatever no one is safe from their annoyance...Hawks is just sitting sipping his soda with shades on inside to hide his heart eyes as you work around-

Chisaki*Coming in* Im sorry can I just have another kid's meal?

KFC!Y/n*Sees the well-behaved young girl with a tiny horn, taking out the kid's toy and handing it to her looking at the masked man* You again?NAW, Not this time love

Chisaki:...But I just walked in?*Confused at them*

KFC!Y/n: Yeah, and you walk into Cole's, Buy some groceries LIKE A NORMAL FATHER -COOK DINNER ASSHOLE?!

Chisaki:😦

Eri*Smilling holding her toy*...

Cue You now cleaning the tables with orchestra music

RandomHero*Coughs into a fist*

KFC!Y/n*Sprays him with an antibacterial spray bottle*

RandomHero*Jumps and looks as they leave confused*!?

RandomHero2*Watched as his friend was sprayed just as confused*??

-

Dabi*Coughs into hand in his civilian disguise*

KFC!Y/n*Sprays him with an antibacterial spray bottle in the face with an annoyed look*

-

Shigaraki*Also In a civilian disguise, Eating messily at his table, stuffing his face with food and mouth open and chewing as he plays his mobile game*

KFC!Y/n*Who was moping the floor with a disgusted look*...YOU EAT LIKE THAT AT HOME?

Shigaraki*Stops chewing with bites of fries hanging from his mouth*??

KFC!Y/n: HUH?-Ya animal! Close your mouth when ya eat you fuckin scumbag!*Glares at him, disapproving tone*CHICKEN LITTLE IN YOUR BURGER HAD MORE MANNERS THAN YOU!?

Shigaraki*looking down, feeling called out*...

A couple tables away from you lecturing Shigaraki is Hawks and Dabi...

Hawks*Happily seeing you kick out rowdy people*...arent they great?~

Dabi*Who is cleaning the cleaner of his face, eyes stinging and glaring at him*...out of all the models, actresses/actors galore...you're choosing that-

You are kicking a homeless person out of the restaurant and even fanning the air to get rid of the stench with a grossed-out look

sequel to:

[imagination-mess]

Reality Show: Pro Heroes Wives (Aizawa Shota Edition)

Reference to Rika from Bakugou and Pro Hero from Kirishima and Midoriya

*mentions you have 3 children (Eri/Shinsou/your own with Aizawa)*

________________________________

There is a reality show where pro heroes' wives are on television and paid to be there. It is filled with juicy gossip and pure drama. There are few wives in this second season who were kept out of the spotlight which adds mystery and theories to be created about who they were married to. 

The same winners who were in the group that couldn’t be identified are back this season as a surprise challenge.  Unlike last season, it wasn’t told in the very  beginning of this reason already revealed which Pro Heroes Wives will be featured

There are only a few left remaining without being matched, which were mostly underground heroes who people don’t typically pay attention to. Half of the cast already knew each other because their spouses have interacted on more than one occasion and are disqualified from participating in the weekend challenge of the show for those spouses. The others who do not know have to identify them, but the others did not spill any things that would clue who their spouse was. 

This weekend's challenge was the ones who didn’t get their rating from the public are put to guess their opponent chosen by the directors of who their spouses are, people are having a hard time guessing at home as well. These wives have pictures of other pro heroes which confuses the public about who their spouses were. It was a friendly picture to professional pictures that had been taken. 

The two members, Rika, and Pro Hero [Blank] who were also voted off from the show by their peers had made their decision. They make this decision based on their friends and notes taken throughout the show. 

 It was you, they had to guess who your spouse is. The two ladies stood on the platform while you were sitting on the red couch seat with a wine glass in your hands. There was a screen behind you with a black box with an enormous question mark. You were confident they wouldn't be able to guess correctly. You have been on the hot seat a few times. You also know they wouldn't be able to because they have very little information about underground heroes, which you have been told by your husbands’ former students' wives. 

“We chose Pro Hero Mindjack,” Rika speaks into the microphone while the screen reveals the pro hero at the latest picture of the Hero Gala beside them. 

There was an immediate reaction from you which was coughing on your wine with eyes widened. Your facial expression shows how shocked you were. and the crowd who were within the circle of the pro hero were screaming “HOW” to cough on their drinks.

“Based on the comment you mentioned this week was that your husband's quirk involves a specific muscle in the body.” Pro Hero [Blank] adding an explanation. 

“What do you say to that? Miss [Former Last Name]?” The host asks for your input. 

“Mindjack is a very handsome man, but he is way too young for me. Here is a clue,  I am a mother of 3. I am confident my oldest son is having some sort of reaction to this but don’t expect a reaction on social media. You are not going to find it. Additionally, my oldest son is around his age.” 

Meanwhile, on social media, people were going crazy about the fact you looked younger than your age to be a mother of three. No one could find the children that related to you, because you never did post them on your social media including your spouse. It was a very professional account which disappointed some fans of the show. They aren’t able to figure out who your spouse is.

Proherofan34 tweeted: All I am hearing is that [Name] is milf. 

Uravityfan89 tweets: I need her skincare routine! *attaches its mighty need. * 

There are videos of you including from seasons 1 and 2 clips of you with the audio sound of Mommy, sorry to step on me. Other videos of being a collaboration of your top moments of being unbothered along with your greatest comebacks from season 1. You humbled certain younger women. There were old videos of you throwing a man twice your size out of a nightclub along with videos of being a momma bear to those who needed help at the nightclub circling the internet. 

There were multiple pictures of you and younger Shinsou with a few others such as Bakugou, and Kaminari at different metal musician group concerts that circled around the interest taken from the Pro Hero Chargebolt account.

The clue you had given to the cast and to the public had narrowed the options to two options the Pro Heroes who have 3 children had mentioned in interviews and such. 

Pro Hero Eraserhead, Pro Hero Hawks, and Pro Hero Gang Orca. 

Meanwhile, Eri is holding out her hand out at Hitoshi who was pulling out his wallet for the money. He has lost the bet. Eri is glued to the show and watching too intensely to the point that she is rambling about her theories with her brother and father. 

Shota is just staring at them silently in disbelief with the toddler sleeping on his lap. 

‘I am not gonna even ask.’

Pro Hero Deku Edition

Pro Hero Dynamight Edition

Pro Hero Shoto Edition

Pro Hero Red Riot Edition

Pro Hero Hellfire (Touya) Edition

Pro Hero Mindjack Edition

Reality Show: Unmasked Pro Heroes

[scorpioriesling]

Dance For Me, Baby HC

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Rhysand / Eris / Azriel / Lucien / Cassian / Tamlin x reader

Warnings: IMPLIED SUGGESTIVENESS, READ WITH CAUTION

Summary: Each male is in a different situation with a famous female with you as the OC, and you're in a performance-based setting. The perfomance is based on the song/dance listed with each character (:

SR’s Note: I hope you guys like this lol idk where or why I thought this one up

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Rhysand's Performance - Vigilante Shit (Taylor Swift)

"Draw the cat eye sharp enough to kill a man."

"WHOOO, YES!" Rhysand unashamedly shouts through the quieted arena, all eyes turning to face him and gush

All your fans knew of your relationship, and to put it simply... the two of you were absolute goals

He was the best boyfriend, coming to every show he could, always being so supportive of you, and offering his love in every way -- when you were on (and off) the stage

You can't help but chuckle into the mic while trying to remain serious during your song as Rhys bobs his head along to your sensual song, swaying back and forth with your movements

"And she looks so pretty..." you lilt, and he claps loudly from the front row where he watches

"YES SHE DOES!" he shouts. You roll your eyes playfully, many fans in the pit "aww"ing at the interaction and watching the two of you

You try and remember to focus your attention to the whole crowd as you perform your routine on the chair -- it's hard when your handsome man is literally right there, catching your eye

Ugh, let's face it -- that chair should be him, shouldn't it?

Nonetheless, it propels you to dance harder, and keep going; you know his pride in you, and the reward you'll get later for working so hard

Sneaking a glance just one more time at Rhys, he's gazing at you lustfully, a smirk on his lips as he watches your arms and body roll in tandem with the music, the beads on your tiny dress swaying with each movement of your hips

The moment the song ends and the stagelights dim, you feel his delicate touch in your mind, voice delicate, unlike his promise of what is to come post-show

"I'll be the one getting revenge later, darling."

･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Eris' Performance - Greedy (Tate Mcrae)

"Alright! Let's uh... let's run Greedy one more time before we call it? Yeah?" Your manager's voice echoes through the open arena, bouncing off the open walls. You nod, and glance to the left corner of the arena when outside light floods in

One of your bodyguards is ushering in someone, and it only takes you a moment to figure out who it is. You hold up a "1" finger, and your manager sighs, nodding from the sound booth near the ceiling as you hop off the stage and jog toward your bodyguard and the approaching guest

"Hey!" You say, excitedly throwing your arms around your boyfriend's neck. He smiles brightly, pulling you into a hug and spinning you around by your waist

"Hey baby," he mumbles into your hair, setting you onto the ground gently. He pulls back to gaze into your eyes, and you smile breathlessly up at him, sweat sticking on your forehead

"I'm sorry I got here a little early to pick you up, " he glances around. "Maybe I can watch the end of your rehearsal?" He asks cautiously. You roll your eyes playfully and push his shoulder lightly

"I'm mainly practicing my moves today," you say. He glances to the top of your head and smirks

"I can tell," You gasp and swat his chest, causing him to laugh. You cross your arms over your chest

"Well... I've been at it all day. I can't promise it'll be all that good," you say. He only shrugs

"Show me what you've got."

You raise your brow at the challenge, sauntering back to the stage and climbing back upon it

"HIT IT!" You shout, and your manager begins the track to your song "greedy". On instinct, you begin singing along. Your voice is drowned out by the loud music, but you don't mind; Eris has heard you sing a million times

You accentuate each move to the fullest, performing this time as though your life depends on it. He has approached the edge of the stage, lightly crossing his arms over his chest, and staring you down like he's ready to eat you whole

You continue to dance, whipping your hair and moving your ass in a circle the way you were choreographed to do, but as full as you are physically able. Eris watches intently, smirking and shaking his head at you

As the song draws to a close, you stand, panting and bracing your hands on your hips

"Alright! I'll call it for today." Your manager says over the speakers. "Really good run, Y/N. Maybe your boyfriend should come to all our rehearsals," she says with a chuckle. You can't help but huff a laugh, dropping to your knees and sliding off the stage. Eris meets you, brows high on his forehead as he leans close to whisper in your ear

"Don't ever tell me you don't dance good again."

･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Azriel's Performance - Don't Start Now (Dua Lipa)

Azriel was more than excited to be your +1 to an awards show you'd been invited to perform at

This wasn't your first performance, as you'd toured before, done shows, all that... but you'd only been with Azriel for a couple of years, and you hadn't toured in that time, meaning he'd never seen you perform live

"You have a lot of fans," he said, wrapping his hand around your waist tighter as a million cameras flashed around the two of you on the carpet outside the venue

"Trust me dear -- they find you much more interesting," you say. You love to see the small tinge of pink that shades his cheeks, only you being the one to make him blush

After a few short interviews, autographs, and more photos -- Azriel walks you toward the stage door and presses a sweet kiss to your cheek

"You will do amazing, my love." He says

He's the only one to make you blush, too

"I'll find you after," You promise. He gives you one last small smile, and leaves you go get prepared for your performance

You don't meet his stare again until you're taking the stage for your hit single, "Don't Start Now"

The way his eyes roam over you in your pink two piece outfit make you feel as though you're one of the trophies being handed out tonight, and you begin singing, walking in time to your song with your dancers

When you get to the dance break, you're directly in front of Azriel in the front row, his eyes wide as he takes you in fully moving like a goddess in front of his very eyes

Kicking your feet in your cute boots, swaying your hips in your high cut sparkly pink bottoms, and rolling on the stage floor has the crowd cheering in awe -- and has your boyfriend speechless

By the end of the performance, your chest heaves breathlessly as you smile and look around, Azriel standing to clap above his head for you

You wink and saunter off the stage, changing quickly to not waste any more time not by his side. When you arrive at his side again, he pulls you close, hugging you fully

"You're... really, really good at dancing..." he says sheepishly, grinning so wide that all of his perfect teeth show

You giggle at him, kissing his reddened cheek. You love when he gets all giddy and speechless for you

･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Lucien's Performance - ... Baby One More Time (Britney Spears)

It was well into your tour when Lucien was finally able to come see you

You were so excited for him to finally be able to see you perform

He loved your girlypop songs, and he thought you were so cute in your little outfits you'd shown him

But, this was the first time he would get to finally see you live

He was in a private suite, and you could see him from everywhere on the stage

You were a little nervous pre-show, as you'd heard murmurs of rain showers in the area and the arena wasn't enclosed

Nonetheless -- you were going to perform your little heart out. It was just in youe nature to do so anyway, besides the fact that your boyfriend was finally there to see you

As tough as it was, you couldn't see Lucien pre-show. You really, really wanted to -- but between warm-ups, rehearsal, and hair and makeup, you did not want to distract yourself and Lucien agreed to see you first thing afterwards

Just knowing he was there, he was in the arena was enough for you to buzz with a different kind of energy that excited you more than ever before

When assembling your outfits in order, you yanked the typical pink one off the rack. Your outfits director gave you an incredulous look, and you only smirked at her. "I think I'm ready to try out that other one you recommended a few weeks ago"

She only chucked at you, replacing it with the skimpier option for the "Baby One More Time" number. "Maybe your boyfriend should attend all your shows", she said with a wiggle of her eyebrows

As the show started, you were able to spot him immediately. With his flaming red locks and overly joyful cheers, you couldn't help but perform harder than you had before

Each outfit change had him giving you a smile and a thumbs up like a dork, but once you were nearing the end of the show, you knew the last number was what would do him in

The stage descended into darkness, and you were hurriedly changed into your final outfit. You took a steadying breath in and scurried to one end of the ascention plane, your dancers surrouding you as the opening notes of "Baby One More Time" began

The lights arose, and the crowd erupted in cheers. The stagelights bathed every crystal on your glittering Swarovski bralette in radiant essence, and you tipped the edge of your fuzzy cowgirl hat once as you began strutting down the walkway, swaying your hips in your low-rise jeans. As if on cue, thunder cracked overhead and rain begain drizzling in from above, cascading over your esposed torso. You sang along to the beat, rolling your hips and flipping your soaking locks over your shoulder. The plane you stood on rose from the stage, and your abs flexed slightly as you fought for balance on the unstable surface

Your eyes met with Lucien's -- his jaw hung, and his mouth in a dramatic "O". You couldn't help but smile through your performance, playing up the movements as the song neared its ending

The crowd roared when you finished, and you thanked everyone for coming, waving to them all and blowing a kiss to your boyfriend. He met your eyes, and pointed to the door backstage, mouthing "You. Me. Back there. You know it." With a little wink

I'll leave you to just imagine the rest (;

･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Cassian's Performance - Espresso (Sabrina Carpenter)

Performing at a festival for the first time? A dream

Performing at a festival for the first time while your boyfriend was there watching you? A dream come true

Cassian was your biggest supporter in everything, especially your music career -- so when you were set to headline at one of Velaris' biggest music festivals, he was all over it

He even wore an "I <3 Y/N" shirt, but that is besides the point

You'd spent all morning getting ready with your team, the warm summer sun only encouraging you to get in the mood to perform your new song for the summer to the awaiting fans outside the doors of your backstage prep room

"Y/N! On in five!" The stage manager called. You smiled to yourself one last time, savoring these last few moments before you'd allow anyone outside your recording team and your boyfriend to hear your new hit single

When you finally took the stage, you walked back and forth, allowing the cool breeze to ruffle your long hair and cool your nerves burning through your skin. This was new for you, performing at this festival, and you worked the crowd for a little crowd interaction as you gazed to the right section where Cassian promised he'd be

The sight of his wings behind him left you smiling as he waved both hands over his head, and you send him a small wave in return. You also couldn't help but giggle at the corny tee he donned, dispite the taunts he'd recieved from Rhys and Azriel about it as the intro to "Espresso" began

As if on instinct, you began moving in time with your dancers to the song, keeping your movements small and controlled to conserve energy while singing your heart out. Nonetheless, you were performing - and the crowd was loving it, swaying and cheering along, but none of them as enthusiastic as your boyfriend

When you'd reached the end of your performance, you gave the edge of your fluffy white skirt one final toss and winked to Cassian before waving to the crowd. They erupted in applause, and Cassian cluthched his heart, pretending to faint before smiling widely at you. You giggled once more, skipping happily down the steps of the stage to the sectioned off area of the crowd to watch as the next performer geared up to take the platform. Cassian embraced you with his arms wide, lifting you high and rubbing your small back with his large hands

"Ha Ha!! Yesss that's my girl!" He praised. "You did amazing, sweetheart," he said, setting you back down and twirling you in a circle, admiring you from head to toe

"Why thank you, love bug." You say, standing on your absolute tippy-toes to press a gentle kiss to his cheek. He holds you in place with his hands wrapped around your waist, his voice a raspy whisper agaist the shell of your ear

"I'll drink your Espresso any day."

･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Tamlin's Performance - Obsessed (Olivia Rodrigo)

Tamlin had been to your shows a few times, as he was your best friend... well, you were his best friend

Sure, he was yours too, but... you'd always wanted more with him. How he didn't see that? You weren't sure

You always listened to his problems, been there for him when he needed you, and he was always there for you too

This show was an example of that. You were performing an unreleased song, one that would be a huge suprise for your whole fanbase, and as this was something you'd never done before, naturally, you were nervous

Of course you confided in your best friend about it, and he was perfect about it; he made you feel better, gave you all the courage you needed...

"What is the song about?" he'd asked you

"Well... there's this guy..." His brows had raised

"Oh?" He'd asked, suprised

"It's not about the guy, just... about his ex girlfriend, ectually. Haha," you'd explained. He only noded.

"Well that's... different. I didn't know you liked anyone." You immediately tensed, wanting to change the subject.

"It's also making me nervous, I hope people will like my aesthetic change too. I'm going with red this time... not... purple, like usual." You stammered. He nodded looking at the floor.

"What kind of red?" He asked. You looked around, eyes landing on the very thing that you two shared the most in common.

"Like, the color of the wooden panes of your fiddle."

It was after that he told you he actually wouldn't be able to come to this show. Which sucks, because you really, really wanted him to come. Little did he know, he was the guy. You liked him. He was going to come all along, why all the sudden the cold feet?

You sighed to yourself as you exited the stage, changing into the very outfit you'd hoped to be debuting for Tamlin today. As if on cue, your assistant rushes up to you with a bouquet of 12 perfect red roses, a small card in hand. She was out of breath, as were you as your atage attendants pulled fabric over your shoulders and brushed through your hair.

"This... these... he said it had to be now," she breathed. You quickly took the card from her, eyes scanning over the words.

You know I wouldn't miss this for the world. And quite frankly, I think you look beautiful in red.

You recognised the handwriting immediately, and your heart felt like it might explode out of your chest. Your assistant took the card back from you, promising to put the flowers in your dressing room as your brand new, shiny red guitar was thrust into your arms and the stage section you stood on was being lifted once more

You met the lights, the screams, the cheering -- and you looked. You searched the sides, the back, all around. You wouldn't find him, it was no use

You didn't care. He was here. He was here to see you. And he thought you were beautiful

The intro of "Obsessed" begins, and you shakily start the motions you'd practiced over and over. Dragging a sensual hand down your chest, the crowd roars and you're filled with confidence, moving to strum a few chords on your guitar. Its not long before you retire it for a microphone instead, heading toward the corner of the stage for the part of the song where you sing laying on the stage floor

It's then, when you're belting the lyrics, back arched, the you look to the side and meet those familiar emerald eyes, staring at you in shock. His strong arms are flexed over his chest, satisfaction and awe gleaming in his stare. You only smirk and continue, thrusting your hips and writing on the ground with the lyrics

As you continue your show, the crowd goes absolutely wild, and you're a panting mess by the end of it -- a panting, satisfied, excited mess

When you round the corner to your dressing room, you find him there, leaned against your vanity, hands braced against the edge of it as his lustful eyes meet yours. His roses are sat nest to him on the table, and you can't help but grin as you slowly saunter into the room, quietly closing the door behind you. He is the one to break the silence first, licking his lips as he drinks you in with his stare

"So... it seems there is something we needed to discuss, Y/N."

･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

[b0xerdancer-writes]

It Wasn't Supposed To Happen Like This Part 3

Eris x Rhy's Sister! Reader

Summary: Eris used to be attached at the hip to Rhysand’s younger sister. Now that he has taken over as High Lord of the Autumn Court, his father’s old high table have been pressuring him to take a wife, he comes up with the brilliant lie that hes already courting someone and has been for several years now. Eris asks Rhysand’s little sister, the best way to get away with it and make it believable, to fake court her.

Warnings: Elain and Mor slander (I love Mor but it’s a plot point for later on I promise!), cussing 18+, some nsfw lean but no sex scenes yet, alcohol.

Trope/Prompt: Fake Dating

Word Count: 4,941

Notes: Part 3 is here, bit of a shorter chapter but im happy with where I left it off at, lots of Lucien and Eris bonding this chapter. Enjoy sweet affectionate drunk Eris. Not proofread at all. I posted this on my break. Posted on wrong account earlier oops!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You promised me we could go dance when I got back.” Happily intoxicated and finally relaxed, he wrapped his arms around me surrounding me with his scent of firewood and cinnamon. 

Lucien gave me an apologetic look from over Eris’s shoulder, as Eris nuzzled into my neck and hummed sweetly. A blush crept to my face at the overly affectionate display from the eldest Vanserra brother. His breath fanned across my collarbone as purred against me and I couldn’t help but feel an ache in my chest wishing for this to be a regular thing that I got to experience, but I was drawn from my spot as the forms of Azriel and Rhys talking with the other reentered Rita’s. I tapped Eris lightly on the shoulder and he made a hum of acknowledgement, his honey amber eyes seeking out my own  as he moved to pull me towards the floor. 

Just as I moved to stand myself I felt a squeeze of my hand from Mor, who was giving me a look that was a mix of sympathetic and apologetic.

 “I..,” she looked down into her lap where her other hand rested. “I never meant to lie, and I never meant for it to get so out of control like it is now. I, just, I’m sorry. I mean it. For what happened.”

I gave her a soft smile and squeezed back, biting back any bitter remarks that echoed in my brain after all these years of holding contempt against her. “Hey, no worries. We all have to do and say things to get by.”

She smiled softly back at me and moved her hand from mine into her lap as she let Eris pull me to the dance floor. She took a sip of wine and her shoulders deflated as Azriel and Rhys slid into the booth with her. Lucien had moved to the bar talking with the bartender there, though I couldn't see if he was ordering another drink or not. 

Eris pulled me close to him away from the prying eyes of the inner circle as he put his hands around my waist and tucked me into his chest, a slight rumble echoing there that I could only feel through the music.  The music was a slower one then what normally came from the live bands that rotated through, and Eris used it to his advantage as he leaned down to whisper in my ear, a small tilt of curiosity in his voice.

He brought my wrist up to his lips and pressed them to the small tattoo barely bigger than a fingernail. “What kinda deal did you make with her, hmm?” 

I moved to cup his face with the same hand he kissed. “You're too far gone to understand the significance of what it means right now if I told you.” I smiled softly, moving to pull him with the music as it began picking up into a faster beat, a new song.

He raised a brow at me with a cocky, sarcastic, yet relaxed look on his face. Mischief danced in his eyes, I’d never get used to how good that looked on him.

“I’m sure even in my haze I’ll understand.” He smirked as he pulled me tight against him, a move that was influenced by a mix of the music and trying to lure me into giving him what he wants; A move I knew all too well, that managed to bring me to my knees everytime.

I sighed as I wrapped my hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down so he could hear me over the pounding music. “It was a deal to get her to stop slandering you so much, I didn;t even think it was going to be a deal. Think she made it so I would understand how much she was sorry for everything she did.”

His eyes twinkled, as a smile bloomed on his face that made him practically glow. He cupped my face with both hands, eyes locking with mine. “You stood up for me again? Made a whole bargain just so I wouldn’t be slandered?”

I nodded and he purred loud enough I could hear it even with the blaring music. My heart skipped a beat as he dropped my face and pressed my body into his, leaning down to whisper into my ear.

“Darling,” he mused “I will never be able to repay you for all the favors you do for me. Thank you.” He pressed a kiss to my temple before he spun me around and pressed my back against his chest with a smirk.

“Plus, when you defended me against Azriel’s words earlier it was pretty hot little fox~.” He purred into my ear, blush crept into my cheeks and I spun out of his hold. 

He’s just drunk. There was no meaning behind his words really, just trying to get a rise out of me. “Get it together Eris, quit playing these games of yours.” I rolled my eyes and he let out a childish giggle.

“Okay, Okay fine. You win.” He surrendered but the mischief in his eyes wasn't gone.

He took my hand in his and spun me into him grabbing at my hands to lift me into his arms, my legs instinctively wrapped around his hips. He smiled wickedly at me, cheers erupted around us as the song came to a dramatic close. My eyes scanned the crowd behind Eris, everyone must have been watching us dance, he had managed to pull me into the center of the floor without me realizing. 

He smirked at me and I leaned in to whisper into his ear. “Sly fox.”  

His hand that supported my weight on my ass was a searing heat against me though he wasnt using any of his power. I jumped from his grasp to pull him into a quick bow. I was going to need several more drinks if this was how the night was going to proceed, sly remarks and lingering touches all masked under the influence of alcohol. 

Song after song played and we let eachother lose ourselves in the others' touches and remarks. Fuck it, if this was temporary I was bound and fucking determined to enjoy what attention like this I could get from my mate, even if he didn’t know that little fact he seemed to be enjoying it just as much as I was. Eventually as the night grew later I felt Rhys’s claws against my shields and I greeted him with a grumble for interrupting.

“Heading home, Feyre is starting to miss Nyx. Have fun, but not too much fun. Sorry for earlier I should have stepped in, I know you wouldn’t have let anyone talk about Feyre like that in my absence.” I felt his power rub against my conscience apologetically, it felt sad and remorseful.

“Have a goodnight Rhys, tell Feyre night for me too.” I laughed softly. “Don’t worry Rhys, I'll be good. I wont say it’s okay cause its not and your right but I’ll forgive you brother. I love you, have a goodnight.”

“I will, love you too.” He slipped out of my thoughts with an affectionate caress and my shields slid back into place.

As I returned my attention to Eris he was pouting, brows furrowed as he looked into my eyes. “What’s wrong Eris?” 

He let out a huff like a child throwing a tantrum. “Tell Rhys to leave you alone, it's us time.” 

I smiled and wanted to laugh at his childish behavior but bit it back as I smoothed out his hair. “Don’t worry you poor thing, he's gone now, he was just apologizing and saying good night.”

He pouted further when I called him a poor thing and it made me smile softly, a warmth blooming in my chest, but once he noticed my full attention was back on him he perked up. We danced for a while longer till the alcohol seemed to lessen from his system and he deflated as he held me close. 

“I have to go back to Autumn soon.” He sighed, dropping his forehead to my shoulder. 

I couldn’t stand seeing him upset. “Welcome back to the land of the coherent.” I joked trying to cheer him up and I felt him smile against me.

“Thank you, I mean it. You always put me first and I’ll never be able to repay you for all of it.” He mumbled into my shoulder.

I rubbed at his shoulders as he leaned against me for a moment before I began pulling him off the dance floor. “I gotta close out our tab but then we can go relax for a bit before you have to leave, okay?”

He nodded, eyes not glimmering nearly as much as they had been and my heart ached for him. I pulled him with me to the bar, the tender busy making drinks told us it would be a minute before he could get to us. Eris bid his time wrapping his arms around my waist and buried his face in between my shoulders. I held his hands that were firmly clasped around me with one of mine as I finally closed our tab out. He growled under his breath when I made him release me so we could leave the bar and I swatted his hand softly with a giggle. 

“You big teddy bear, we do have to leave the bar you know? You wanna go to the house of the wind? Or I actually share an apartment with Lucien in the city we can go there?” I crooned at him and felt him giggle into my shoulder.

“-partment” He cut himself off as he mumbled into my back.

“Wanna winnow or walk?” I rubbed at his forearm softly connecting the freckles that littered his skin.

“Walk, I don't know if I can winnow without getting sick.” He looked up from my shoulder, only his eyes showing over my shoulder. The gold and orange flecks in his amber eyes illuminated by the faelight signs behind the bar advertising the different brands they carried.

My breath caught in my throat as I entwined my hand with his and led him from the bar. He grumbled under his breath as I stepped out of his grasp. “I was comfy.”

I had to fight a giggle. “And I promise you, you can be comfy again when we get to the apartment.” 

He mumbled a fine and moved to step in front of me so he could hold the door open for me to pass through. “Fine. I guess that's an acceptable promise then.”

I smiled up at him as I passed and turned around to offer my hand out to him again. A smile crept onto his face but exhaustion was present in his eyes as he entangled his hand in mine. 

The walk to the apartment was slow, purposely though, so Eris could postpone having to put that mask back on and return to his court. It would probably be a week till I saw him again, a week for him that would be full of having to strategically put on a mask around his fathers court till he could replace them and build it the way he wanted to.

I felt a tug on my hand as Eris stopped to look out at the mountaintops, where a single shooting star fell and disappeared behind them. 

He looked over at me and a soft barely there smile graced his features. “You make a wish?” 

I would only ever wish for one thing, felt like  if I asked for more then it would be too greedy of me, especially when the mother and the cauldron couldn't even grant me my single wish. 

I nodded in response and the softest smile graced his features and his entire body seemed to relax. “So did I.”

I wanted to ask what he wished for but knew there was the superstition about if you told what your wish was that it wouldn’t come true, so I left the question unasked. He took a step back to my side and motioned to the sidewalk ahead of us.

“Ready whenever you are.” He looked down on me and the shop lights caught his eyes making them flicker like fire.

Fuck I wanted to kiss him here and now, but if I did I put everything on the table. I couldn’t lose this so I opted to push the feeling down and it felt like I was going to suffocate as I pulled him towards the apartment again. The rest of the walk was quiet Eris falling into line beside me. Once we made it to the apartment I led him up the stairs to see no lights on, Lucien must still be out then I reasoned. 

I pushed the door open, the wards clicking to life and unlocking at my presence. Inside was decorated in a mix of autumn and night colors, mine and Lucien’s safe haven here. The couch was large enough to fit both me, Lucien and one other person, the wood frame was a dark almost black color and the fabric that lined it a deep reddish orange that had reminded me of eris’s hair when we picked it out. A large blanket made of fur was thrown across the back of it, in case me or Lucien passed out there, on one of the 2 throw pillows it came with. Lucien had picked out a reading chair that was a deep emerald green that he’d tucked into a corner by a bookshelf, I knew he picked the color because it reminded him of Tamlin and the Spring Court but said nothing to him. He had a similar blanket to the one on the couch folded on the ottoman that matched the chair, the novel Lucien had been reading before he left for his mission sat bookmarked on top of the blanket. 

Plants and candles littered the space, nicknacks reminiscent of Spring and autumn sat on nearly every shelf.  A small coffee table separated the couch from the fireplace, on it my own books sat, one a precursor to the one Lucien had been reading and the other a gift from my father when I was younger that talked about constellations and astronomy. As I led Eris inside I could see his eyes sparkle and watched his shoulders completely deflate as he stepped over the boundary, I closed the door behind him and the wards locked into place again. 

Eris looked around a second before he found himself standing in front of the fireplace. He squatted down and sparked the fire to life before he stood back up and spotted a small wooden carved figure of a fox sitting regally, it had scratches and tiny dents in the soft wood but it was after all over 500 years old. Eris picked it up and turned it over, his eyes found mine and he looked like he was going to start crying.

“You still have this?” His voice cracked. Fuck.

I nodded. “Of course I do, it was the first gift you ever gave me.”

He had carved that fox for me by the edge of the pond the next time we had visited, it had become our regular spot to go when our fathers were meeting.

He set it back into its spot and wiped his eyes where tears had begun to bubble. I moved to sit on the couch and he took a few shaky steps forward before he dropped to his knees and buried his face in my lap, tears spilling from his eyes. Fuck this was so similar to the day he had been told he was to be engaged to Mor. 

I entwined my fingers in his hair, trying to sooth him softly but my own tears were beginning to line my eyes. We sat and he cried in my lap for an hour before he began falling asleep where he sat on the floor with his head on my knees. I couldn’t begin to comprehend why me still having that fox caused him to break like that, I wanted to ask but knew if I pried it would probably cause more pain. Somewhere the voice in my head answered me with the thought “because it shows you actually care. That you've always been there and always will be.”

I noticed his breathing had slowed, only catching here or there and I moved a stray hair behind his ear and he looked up at me, his sorrow filled eyes finding mine.

“You aren’t going back tonight, are you? It's awfully late and I wouldn’t want you to get sick from winnowing.” My voice was barely audible but he shook his head and sniffled softly.

“Then let's go get you into some comfy clothes, yeah?” He nodded and leaned back onto his knees to let me stand.

As I stood I ran my fingers through his hair and he closed his eyes to lean into my touch. Mother save me, even after crying for so long he still managed to look so pretty. I extended my hand out to him and he placed his in mine gently, as he stood his knees popped and he cringed; he had spared them no mercy with the force he collapsed onto them with earlier.

I led him to Lucien’s room, the two had to be a similar size I gathered based on what it looked like when they stood beside each other earlier. An old wooden dresser was tucked into the corner of the younger male’s room and I led eris to sit on the bed as I scrounged through the drawers till I found a pair of sleep pants. I pulled a loose white sleep shirt from the closet and passed them to Eris. 

“Go ahead and change, I’m going to slip into some comfy clothes of my own. My rooms right across the hall, when you are done just head to the living room. I’ll make us some tea and we can relax. Okay?” he just nodded as he looked at the clothes and I slipped out of the room, closing the door and stepping into my own room. 

I pulled a wine, almost maroon color set of satin pajama set, a tank top and pair of shorts, from my own dresser; quick to change into them I wrapped a matching sleep robe over my shoulders and slipped back out into the hallway. I could see Eris’s shadow on the wall of the hallway, the events of the day catching up to me as I processed everything now that I finally had a moment to breathe softly. I stepped into the kitchen, making us a pot of chamomile tea, drizzling the slightest bit of honey into our cups. 

Eris looked at me with the saddest smile as I handed him the cup and he took a sip of it. I put my own cup on the coffee table Eris following suit as he swallowed; he scooted a few inches down before he laid down on the couch, his head on my lap. My fingers found his hair as I watched the fire flicker in the hearth, he had one hand resting right above my knee which he clung to me with as if I would be ripped from his grasp. 

After a few minutes his breathing became shallow and I looked down at his sleeping face. He finally looked relaxed, I reached above him to pull the fur blanket onto his frame, and began humming a soft lullaby my father would sing to me when I was upset. 

I must have fallen asleep myself, because next thing I know I was woken up by the wards unlocking. As the door was pushed open Lucien stilled in the doorway, eyes wide like he had walked in on something he shouldn’t have. He settled after a second and shut the door behind him softly, wards clicking locked.

“I thought he was going back tonight?” Lucien raised a brow in question.

“He was originally. I offered to bring him back here to relax before he had to go back…” I trailed off

“But?” Lucien brought our cups to the kitchen, sitting them softly in the sink with a clink.

“When we got back, he spotted the little fox he carved me and broke down crying. I mean he was fully on his knees crying into my lap Luci.” I sighed and tucked a stray hair away from Eris’s face.

Lucien hummed in acknowledgement, quickly washing the cups and putting them away. “You know why?”

“No. He didn't say anything once he stopped crying.” I mumbled softly watching the way Eris’s features softened as I stroked his hair back.

Lucien stalked across the living room barely making a sound, besides a creak of a floor board. Leaning back and kicking his feet up onto the ottoman, he threw the blanket over his legs and sat the book on his lap.

“Its because he has realized that after all this time, you still genuinely care about him. That you have never once had a thing against him, never once thought him the terrible male everyone else does. That you still care, always have and always will.” Lucien sighed before he continued. “After all they said tonight, I think it got to him. When we went to the bathroom, he said something that got to me even. It didn’t make sense to me till now.”

I looked up at Lucien who had his head leaned back and was staring at the ceiling. “What did he say?”

His amber eye found mine, something serious in them. “I barely caught it under his breath, probably shouldn’t have even heard it. But he said ‘she's why i’m doing this, she’s why I’ve got to be better, she’s why.’ He was practically chanting it under his breath. I think Azriel’s words got in his head, I know he struggled with feeling he was enough of a good male to still call you his friend. Our father’s abuse broke how he views himself, so under that mask he wears opinions to get to him when it's. It’s a lot for him, it gets to him.”

I nodded, felt the tears line my eyes again but Lucien caught me off before I could say anything. “So when he saw that one little figure, it might be silly to you to see him cry over it but it was proof that even to one person, one person he cares for more than the Prythian itself, that he is none of those things and that someone actually cares, shattered him. Trust me when I say this hun, but he would raze all the courts to the ground if something happened to you, so yeah your opinion of him matters more than anything to him.”

Tears ran down my face slowly. “But why?”

“Why what?”Lucien half smiled.

“Why do I matter so much” I sniffled

“Honestly, I don't know, just do. If I had to guess it's because you have been there since the beginning, since before his life went to shit.” Lucien hummed. “Now stop crying or you’ll wake him up, wipe your cheeks off.”

I wiped my face and nodded quickly. “Can I ask something?” Lucien mused.

I nodded. “Yeah?”

“You emphasized the fact that he was on his knees. Like you had seen it before, what happened last time that made you realize how important the reason for crying was to him, whatever it was?” He returned his gaze to the ceiling.

“It was the woods after he was informed about his engagement to Mor…” I mumbled and looked down to watch how Eris’s fingers clung to my leg. 

“Oh.” Lucien hissed.

“He snuck out a bottle of alcohol and we ran off to our spot in the woods. He broke down in my arms, we broke down and cried together.” I sighed “He begged me to not leave him alone in the world.” 

Lucien sat up fairly quickly. “He.. He begged you?” Lucien’s eyes both found purchase on me. “He thought you would leave him and he begged you to stay?”

I nodded. “He begged and apologized and we both cried harder than I thought was possible. He asked if I hated him Lucien.” The younger male sucked in the sharp breath.

“What did you say to him?” The redhead murmured to me like it was almost forbidden to say it out loud.

“I promised him that I never have, never could, and never will.” I brushed Eris’s hair out of his face again and he smiled in his sleep and purred against my thigh.

Lucien’s eyes widened as if he realized something that had eluded him for years. “You made a deal with him that you would never be able to hate him… You wouldn't have made that deal unless you knew it couldn’t be broken no matter what. Your mates aren’t you?” 

I nodded and Lucien wiped his face with your hands. “He doesn't know does he?” 

I shook my head again. “No he doesn't” 

Lucien hissed under his breath. “Oh now you two have most definitely worked yourselves into a mess.”

I furrowed my brows. “What do you mean?”

“He loves you, I know that much. For you to matter that much to him he has too. He chose you for this whole fake dating thing for a reason then” Lucien mumbled. 

I stilled and cut him off. “He said he chose me because I was the first female that came to mind that he trusted enough to ask to do this.” I hissed.

“The first female,” Lucien hissed back, “Because he is in love with you.”

We both sighed loudly and Lucien turned to me with a soft look in his eyes. “Just don’t let him burn himself out is all I ask. He’s the only other good member of my family, snuck me out to Spring Court, warned me about what they were going to do to Jes.”

I nodded and he stood. “I'm going to go take a bath, have a good night, I’ll see you both in the morning.”

Jesminda came up, after all these years it was still a sore spot for him. Especially after he had seen Elain hanging on Azriel, I was just surprised he brought it up himself. Showed how much Eris truly meant to him, made sense why he cared so much but his wording confused me. 

“What do you mean by ‘Don’t let him burn himself out?’ Lucien?” I furrowed my brows in confusion. 

Lucien stilled in the archway of the hall, his back still to me as he looked over his shoulder. “I mean he is willing to play with as much fire as it takes to stay close to you even if he burns out in the process. Don’t let him burn out, keep his spark ignited, fan it into a raging forest fire. We both know the capability he has to become one of the best males there is, we both know the only reason he has to do that now is you. He is reforming Autumn for you it seems like. Keep that spark fanned, strike out whoever wants to snuff it. The only thing keeping him burning is you.” Lucien’s mind was racing as he spoke but mine was equally so. 

He turned and looked me dead in the eyes, a fire raged deep within them. “Promise me, make a deal with me here and now.”

“What?” I was taken off guard by his tone of voice.

He strode over to me with his hand extended. “Let's make a deal here and now that you will protect him, that you won't let him burn out or let anything bad ever happen to him again. That you’ll chase his terrible thoughts away, just like you did tonight, whenever they become unbearable for him.” 

I looked back down at his hand, then back up into his amber and metal eyes. I placed my hand firmly in his. “It's a deal.”

I didn’t want anything from Lucien in exchange, knew we both wanted the same thing here, for Eris to be happy. I knew what my purpose was the second I felt the sting of a new bargain tattoo on my upper right arm. As I pulled back from Lucien and looked to the spot i had felt the sting, I knew that no matter how long it was going to take even if we got into a terrible argument after this arrangement, that I would wait for Eris and be there to chase his fears away, knew the second my eyes locked on the tattoo that perfectly mirrored the wooden fox Eris carved for me all those years ago.  In the same spot on Lucien’s shoulder was a constellation in deep red ink.  

Lucien smiled at me and returned to the archway calling over his shoulder before he disappeared with a smirk. “Goodnight Sister.”

It felt like my body absorbed all the heat it could from Eris and pushed it right into my face, my heart racing and an ache settled in my chest that was only soothed by Eris’s fingers clinging slightly tighter to me. I settled taking the second throw pillow and putting it behind my head, the least Lucien could have done was give me his blanket before he left, Fuck. 

Taglist:

@stained-glass-eyes0708

@acourtofbatboydreams

@abysshaven

@wallacewillow0773638

[elrielffs]

This is the only fandom that INSIST their head canons and what they desire HAVE to happen.

What happened to crack ships?

What happened to enjoying fanfic?

Here's the thing. No one cares what you ship. No one cares what you want to happen. No one cares about how you view certain things.

It's THE INSISTENCE that rubs.

You like Neris? Okay, but stop insisting Cassian is gonna die or Nesta is gonna reject the bond. Enjoy Neris fanfiction, commission Neris fanart but DON'T back track thru the books to cherry pick sentences out of context to fit your narrative. Don't INSIST on what you FEEL is going to happen IS going to happen and everyone is else dumb cause you've picked up the CRUMBS.

You think Rhysand and the IC are evil? Okay, but SJM obviously did not write with that intent so stop INSISTING they are because YOU don't agree with what they do and you FEEL they are evil.

You like Tamlin/Eris? Great, everyone has their fans, it's not right or wrong but stop INSISTING they didn't do anything bad actually and everything they did was justified. If you like a character fine but like them with all their flaws instead of trying to excuse it or sweep it under the rug. (Also Nesta fans...)

I just don't get why people have this INSISTENCE on what THEY want to happen or how THEY interpret a scene/character rather than what IS happening in the books is that AHA correct one and the rest of the fandom "just doesn't get it?" You don't like the way the story is going? Then stop reading the series.

Stop trying to Frankenstein sentences out of context and fanfiction you've read and confused for canon into a narrative that suits what YOU want to happen.

I get I have bias as well but I only came to that bias BECAUSE OF WHERE THE BOOKS ARE OBVIOUSLY LEADING US. If you have to go back thru a book to find scenes to support what YOU want to happen rather than coming to that conclusion naturally--that should tell you something.

The disregard for canon, the narrative twisting, the sentences out of context, the "well I FEEL", I just don't understand.

There are a BILLION books for the tropes ya'll want yet a portion of this fandom wants to come in and twist THIS book series to get what THEY want when it's readily available somewhere else.

Idk man, I just feel like all this is setting the series up for failure. After 4 years and radio silence, no matter what happens, everyone's gonna be disappointed in one or another and it just makes me sad, frustrated, angry---because this series doesn't deserve people who obviously don't like it to pick it apart and put it back together in their mind to set up for a huge disappointment for themselves cause they didn't like where the books are going.

I know someone's gonna be like "BUT THIS APPLIES FOR ELRIEL TOO" and gentle reader, I'm going to touch your hand when I say this, whether or not Elriel end up together in the end or not, they have clearly been set up to have a story together in some capacity. They have multiple scenes together, other characters have pointed out something weird between them, the bc had a scene where they almost fucked in a hallway--

You don't have to read power point presentations on "ACTUALLY ELRIEL IS CANON CAUSE CASSIAN ORGASMS IS DESCRIBED LIKE MUSIC AND MUSIC IS MATE LANGUAGE" its CLEARLY written on page.

They have canon scenes--other couples do not. Just look at the recent fanart debacle. People HAVE to come up with happy scenes for the other couples because NONE exist in the books for these couples. Elriel's don't have to twist the narrative cause the narrative is there. You don't have to like it, you don't have to ship it, you don't have to think their endgame, but it's there, sorry.

[yonkokraven]

Leak night and A Little Rant: Soulless ending for a Hero Journey (MHA 430 Spoilers)

Horikoshi now I understand why you were afraid that your manga would be cancelled, because you don't deserve that position

Seriously, there are so many things wrong here, not only because you contradicted yourself from the previous chapter and doubled down on making us ignore it completely, but you expect me to feel like this ending is worthy of being called bittersweet when it doesn't qualify as an ending to any of the plots presented.

Midoriya Izuku, someone who at the time I saw the potential to be a Superman, a Spiderman, a genuine hero reduced to a teacher with the same expressionless image for 8 years before being given a suit to be a hero (Which he didn't need because Midoriya's strength without the OFA is already superhuman)

No, I'm not going to start the Rant like this, sorry, but I'm seriously upset with the insult that this chapter has become.

The Chapter

Chronologically, the chapter tells us that time passed normally at the academy before the war, Bakugo adapted to being ambidextrous, Gran Torino seems to have recovered although he probably died at most a year later, Tokoyami and Hawks talking, Aizawa and Mic in the cemetery (unfortunately Aizawa is still alive), the League of Villains book is on sale and several other things.

And then...

“I was able to live a dream that should have been impossible. The story that began when my body moved before I could even think has come to an end alongside the embers of One For All”.

Midoriya loses the last embers of One For All during the last days of the academy as indicated in the full panel, so it seems that he did not become a hero with his classmates.

8 years after graduation, the perspective changes to Dai, this young man who appeared at the beginning of the final war arc. And we have mentions of La Brava (who has her own IT company and is married to Gentle), Doctor Yoshida (the doctor Yoshi) and Hatsume (who seems to have a very renowned Laboratory)

Dai is being bullied for his quirk, and one of his classmates says that now that the number of heroes has stabilized, only the strongest quirks will have a chance in the academies.

Dai says that unlike the others, he did not change, he feels like a child for wanting to be like All Might, Endeavor, Jeanist, Deku or Dynamight, and his insecurity guides him to the Statue of All Might.

There is another scene change that shows us more of the students of class A

Shoji receives an award for resolving prejudiced conflicts in a peaceful manner, and he thanks all the heteromorphs who went to the hospital 8 years ago and who are only there thanks to their will.

Uravity, Ingenium, Froppy and Creati are now a team of heroes (possibly oriented to everyday and rescue situations) who go around the country's schools explaining a new and important aspect of society: the expansion of quirk counseling.

And Eri attends a music club with friends from her school.

Aizawa talks to Midoriya and shows him a video of Bakugo yelling at a civilian for filming him too closely, and points out that this will cause Bakugo to fall in the Ranking and Todoroki to rise (we are told that Shoto works day and night, yet he is still kind to his fans and people)

Shoto is no longer known as "Endeavor's Son", but as his own hero identity.

Aizawa asks Deku if he feels lonely, and Deku answers that since his talk with Fuwa (in chapter 425) he realized that he can use his knowledge and experience to help other people even without having a quirk. And he says he thinks this is a cool way to live.

Midoriya asks Aizawa if he agrees with him, but Aizawa says that he should be strict with his students, since many who enter UA believe that they are guaranteed passage into the profession and tend to become arrogant if there is no one who is strict and corrects their path.

Midoriya says that since graduation he has barely seen his friends as their days off don't coincide. As he walks home, Midoriya looks out at the scene, Tokoyami or Kirishima products on TV screens, or children playing in the street.

One of these children trips and Midoriya goes over to help, and notices Dai coming over as well.

Dai talks to him about his insecurities and how he comes to see the statue of All Might every time he feels that way, and asks Midoriya,

"Can I be a hero like All Might and You?"

Midoriya remembers his conversation with All Might and begins to analyze Dai's Quirk, a Quirk that allows him to create plates from his hair. Dai is somewhat surprised by Midoriya's way of speaking but understands that he is trying to help him.

"Now it's my turn to give people dreams"

Midoriya tells Dai that he will be okay, because he helped that kid and confirms that he can be a hero. The next panel shows us the new statue of All Might with new additions, statues of civilians rooting for him. Midoriya tells Dai to do his best.

"If I said I'm not a little sad, I'd be lying. However, I can at least encourage other people like that. And that was the story of how we all became the greatest heroes."

All Might appears before the chapter comes to an end and destroys the "END" with his own hand.

All Might apologizes for the delay, while Midoriya tells him that he could have met him at the airport, but All Might says that he wanted to give him a surprise gift while explaining that the data collected from his fight against All For One 8 years ago opened up huge possibilities. All Might gives his disciple a Briefcase.

"Technology evolves just like quirks."

Midoriya says it must have cost a fortune, but All Might says it was created by a friend of US (possibly Melissa and her father) and Hatsume, and the expenses were paid jointly by all the students of class A, especially Bakugo.

“Take this to heart, kid. You've earned this power too, fair and square.”

Deku smiles, we get a panel of Bakugo calling Midoriya, and then Hawks being informed about a landslide on a highway and he asks for any heroes who can to report to the place immediately. Midoriya jumps up using his new support and looks down for a moment, seeing the "ghost" of Shigaraki.

The last page is a double spread of Class A as adults in their hero outfits.

"This is the story of how we will continue to reach out."

A Rant

Well, to begin to understand this chapter and give it a proper rant, I summarized it, and for that reason I want to talk about some things and say again that it is a deteriorated ending for how the Manga began.

Things seem to change but at the same time they stay the same, it's basically like raising the sails of a ship to half mast, you go in the same direction, but slower.

Horikoshi doesn't have a clear perspective for Midoriya in the chapter since he alternates protagonism with Dai, this student who barely appeared once

Dai gives us the perspective of the new generation, and again strength prevails over heroism since Hawks didn't start to reward what really mattered, precisely: Heroism.

Midoriya decides that he will be a teacher since he doesn't have a Quirk to practice the profession of hero, a stupid thing because in previous occasions we were shown that Midoriya's physical strength without the OFA was abundant, although it is understood that Midoriya wants to teach we don't see anything about his class or how he teaches.

The heroes are still people without personal lives, and this is highlighted by the little interaction time that Midoriya had with his friends in a span of 8 years, in addition to Shoto patrolling day and night.

The plot of Shoji and the heteromorphs seems to improve as well as that of Uraraka, both being heroes they try to educate civilians so that people like Toga are helped or the heteromorphs can live with dignity.

Spinner released his book but we didn't see a reaction from the people, but from Compress who had no relevance in this manga.

There is something very wrong with all this and it is that they build us up to the idea that change will happen in the long run, when Horikoshi had the means to immediately begin said changes (And no, I'm not referring to civilians).

Midoriya should have had recognition and interviews for his motivations, even if you don't want to tell the whole story Midoriya would say that he brought Shigaraki to where he was (ridiculous reason but it would be a way to justify it) and people would stop looking the other way

Uraraka could have done what she does now from the academy and interviews, but you didn't allow it either.

Shoji and the heteromorphs was a beautiful plot but you did everything so off-screen that it loses the impact of these two panels that you dedicated to the chapter.

Hawks is now at the head of the commission, and the only thing you did was fix half the problem by adding the top "Eiyuu" when you should also have eliminated the old top that makes people perceive power as something rewardable.

And do you know, readers, why all this is happening? Because Horikoshi most likely has a sequel prepared, because if not, it would not explain the amount of inconsistencies that arose in this last final arc and later this attempt at an epilogue (It literally still makes me sick that he wasted the portal resource like that.)

I would detail for the umpteenth time the inconsistencies when writing the League of Villains or the lack of evolution outside of panels, but you already know my opinion about that and more.

I only hope that on August 5th the news is not a sequel or I will have to mentally prepare myself to see another decade of inconsistencies.

and yes, Deku will have a new OFA in part 2, the ghosts (Shigaraki) don't appear on the street just because.

[sergeifyodorov]

would you actually be willing to give like a pretty long rundown of those main guys from the 2015 draft class?? because i would be Very interested

Of course! I wrote this in a Google doc so I could get it all down. It's a LOT btw -- this is the abridged version, leaving out what are probably important details, and it's still [checks] 11k words long. Sorry about that.

Anyone who tells you that the draft is a science is an idiot not worth their twenty-dollar stadium beer. The draft has analytical elements, sure, but it is a crapshoot through and through. If you dare to take a look back on draft histories from the past ten years -- the past twenty, the past thirty -- only rarely is the first pick, the “best in show,” actually the best of his class. I mean, no wonder, right? How well can you determine how good a man is going to be at hockey when you have only seen him as a teenager? Accuracy and prophecy are not kin.

Every ten years, though, you come across someone whose trajectory is easy to map. A prospect who is so head and shoulders above everyone else -- in numbers, in the eye test -- that you cannot help but say that they are going to be The Next One. God save the poor boy you put that name on.

In this case, it is 2014, and they are speaking those words again. On the dingy ice of an OHL arena, a red-haired Toronto boy with scared fawn’s eyes paces around the circles, faster than anyone else in the building. There are articles written about him already, calling his experience the torture test and labelling him Jesus, the saviour, the new great. It will get worse for him from here.

A Generational Prospect

It is 2004, and all eyes are on Sidney Crosby. He has eclipsed QMJHL scoring records. He performs highlight-reel antics. It is known that he will make the NHL as a teenager, and that whichever team has him will have an asset they should not ever think to relinquish.

Now, in 2023, all expectations of him are blown away. He is fifteenth on the all-time scoring list, having played most of his life in the dead-puck era, and will be inside the top ten by the time he retires. He has never been below a point per game, having gotten to a hundred points as an eighteen-year-old rookie and only slowed down to ninety at thirty-five. He has won three Cups; two Harts; two each Art Ross and Rocket Richard.

Something similar can be said for his contemporary, one Alex Ovechkin, sixteenth in all-time scoring, second ever in goals. While neither were always the most singular, dominant player of the past eighteen years (has it really been that long?) their longevity and consistent high-level play have cemented them into that tier of all-time greats. 

Such players only emerge once (or, for them, twice) in a generation; a “generational talent.” Gordie Howe was the first, before drafting happened at all, then Gretzky, joined as a part of the WHA merger, then Lemieux, then, debatably, Jagr through the early half of the dead-puck era, then Crosby and Ovechkin. Jagr was drafted fifth overall partly due to political constraints (it was 1990, and Czechia was behind the Iron Curtain), but all of the other drafted ones went first. While development curves for everyone else are hard to map, it is easy to tell, for them, how good they are as youths. We all call Gretzky the “Great One,” but he actually got that nickname before he was a teenager, because of how much better than the rest of his peers he was.

This is how we go up to the 2015 draft. Let’s say that it is September 2014, a full hockey season before the draft, so we can set the scene. Go back to the dingy Erie rink, watch the red-haired boy speed around the ice.

This is Connor McDavid. He was born in January just outside Toronto; if you are unfamiliar with the term “GTA,” I will pause now to tell you that it means Greater Toronto Area, and that it is the nexus of all hockey in the world. He is a Leafs fan, as so many of the GTA hockey-playing hopefuls are. 

Connor is an unusual child, even by young hockey prospect standards. Entry to any of the CHL major junior leagues -- the OHL, the WHL, the QMJHL -- starts at sixteen, but select few can apply early, and if they are academically, physically, and emotionally deemed adept they can be accepted for exceptional status and join at fifteen. This happens once every two or three years nowadays; Tavares and Ekblad were the only ones to predate McDavid. As well as being deemed exceptional by the board of the CHL, he is exceptional among peers, too: intelligent and analytical, black-and-white, painfully shy. He works hard in school, desperate to avoid coming off as a “dumb jock.” Media interviewers ask for him, but they have to change the settings on their microphones in order to pick up his voice, it is so soft. 

He has already won trophies; scholastic achievement, sportsmanlike behaviour, CHL rookie of the year. He will score at least one point in all but one of the first eighteen games of the 2014-15 OHL season, before breaking his hand in a fight (getting himself a Gordie Howe hatty, being that he already has a goal and an assist). He will score a hundred points in thirty-eight games, and a hundred and twenty points in the forty-seven games he will play.

Understandably, his name is penned in at number one on the draft board. Even such deficits as breaking a hand and being out for six weeks don’t tank his stock, it is so obvious how well on track he is to outpace all but the best.

He is sweet and shy, a captain of Erie based mostly on skill, and tight-laced into the destiny of future franchise saviour.

At least he has a friend, though, right?

Dylan

The 2014-15 Erie Otters are a good team. A great one, even -- third in league standings by season’s end, and you don’t get that far if your single generational superstar is sidelined half the year with a hand injury.

This is where Dylan comes in. Like Connor, he’s a GTA boy, and a young Leafs fan. Unlike Connor, he’s part of a serious hockey family -- the middle child of three. His older brother Ryan has already been drafted, in the first round, no less. He’s a real student of the game, too, a stats obsessive and a calm, steadfast personality. 

Remember how we said the draft is a crapshoot? That’s very true. Prospects may have precise rankings when all is said and done, but in the meantime I find it best thinking of them as instead arranging into tiers -- there’s the generational talent in this year, but disregarding him we have a first overall-level, then a small handful of top prospects. Not saviours in their entirety, but certain to make a team very happy. Dylan projects as the latter group -- he’ll be somewhere between three and five. In 2014-15, he’s the OHL scoring leader, and takes the Erie Otters’ single-season record.

He and Connor are also best friends. Connor’s quiet, anxious even, but Dylan has a coolheaded sort of confidence that brings out the best in him. Rarely are they pictured without each other; rarely are they spoken to without mentioning the other. There’s a sweet little video out there of the Otters going to New York state and going on this little ziplining/outdoor climbing gym, and Connor and Dylan are about as glued to each other’s sides as you can be while obeying the harness safety rules. In hockey terms, while a little young for it, they’re married. Much like Crosby and Malkin are, although over a much shorter term, and publically the two Otters are much closer.

Dylan is the one I feel as if I can talk the least about. He is mostly defined by what he is not: not Connor, to start, and before the actual draft takes place that is the most of it. 

Of course, that’s the most of what any of it is, isn’t it? These are teenagers, separated into imprecise tiers and mostly defined by which tier they slot into. The three boys below Connor, no matter how good they are, are defined by being not Connor.

Jack Eichel most of all.

Jack, to start, is American, unlike any of the other three. He’s a late birthday -- born in November of 1996 instead of  the first eight and a half months of 1997 -- so he’s, in theory, had another year to adapt. (Brief footnote: the September 15 cutoff is what determines draft eligibility, either the year you turn eighteen or the year you turn nineteen. If you were born in, say, June of 2000, you would be eligible for the draft in 2018. If you had the audacity to be born in October of 2000 instead, you’d have to wait until 2019.) His development pipeline is also unlike the others, having come up into the NCAA, college hockey, and playing at the US National Development team before committing to Boston University. He won the Hobey Baker award as a freshman, and led the NCAA in scoring as a rookie.

He was marketed, coming into the draft, as the American Connor -- the new face of American hockey, a homegrown star, a fellow generational talent, although that was a feeble marketing strategy to dull the disappointment of going second to greatness. He was proud and polite, quiet but not scared, a young man uncomfortably aware of his own myth and rather irritated at the fact he had a myth in the first place. Taken in and treated well, he would probably have a well-suited disposition to a high-stress, playoff-bound team.

It’s unfortunate that that wouldn’t realize until eight years after he was drafted.

The Draft Itself, or, What Caused All These Problems In The First Place

The draft lottery rolls around. The lottery and the draft take place on different days -- the lottery several weeks before, so that for a long time the boys have an idea of to whom they will go. The first four teams to pick are, in order:

Edmonton. Edmonton had been very bad, for a very long time, and had three shiny prizes already to show for it: Taylor Hall, drafted first overall in 2010; Nail Yakupov, drafted first overall in 2012; and Ryan Nugent-Hopkins, drafted first overall in 2013. I’m sure you already know this, but Edmonton was Gretzky’s team, while Gretzky won all his cups, and they now stand to get themselves another generational talent in Connor McDavid.

Buffalo. The Sabres have a few decent pieces: Ryan O’Reilly, Sam Reinhart. They haven’t made the playoffs in a few years, and have plummeted to the bottom of the standings, finishing thirtieth out of thirty.

Arizona. Arizona has never gotten off the ground, not once. They are a dust mote of a franchise, held in place by Gary Bettman’s fragile ego and the skimmings of Original Six markets. Their survival, as doomed as we know it is, is banking on a distant hope of good prospect luck and better PDO.

Toronto. While Arizona is the smallest of small markets, Toronto is… well, it’s Toronto. Remember earlier, how I said that the GTA is the nexus of hockey? Toronto is called the Centre of the Universe, and for good goddamn reason. The Leafs are one of the most storied franchises in the NHL, and simultaneously one of the winningest (the second-most Stanley Cups, after Montreal) and the losingest (their most recent Cup was almost sixty years ago.) Their fanbase dwarfs all but the most hardcore of French Canadian separatist contingents. There’s a common phrase now, when any hockey news is mentioned -- but how does this affect the Leafs? It’s well-done satire.

And with four teams, we have four boys. So I come upon the last one now: Mitch Marner. Mitch, like Dylan and Connor, is a GTA boy, a born and raised Leafs fan on an OHL team. He plays for the London Knights -- a diminutive forward (he weighs in at 160 pounds soaking wet at eighteen, and eight years later barely cracks 180) with fantastic playmaking skills, the creativity and gall to do things other players have never even thought of. He’s a sweet one, too, bubbly and energetic and cuddly and kind.

Here is how the draft goes:

The Oilers take the stage first, for the fourth time in six years. The ceremony is unnecessary. Connor McDavid is the name everyone knows they will say. Connor walks up to the stage, looking vaguely nauseous, and dons the jersey and the hat. (His facial expression in the interviews afterward is thoroughly dissected over the next eight years. Some say it’s simple stage fright; others say it’s personal distaste for the Oilers -- remember, Toronto boy, Toronto heart. I choose to believe it’s the first one. Not all of us are John Tavares.)

After a first-round prospect is chosen, they bring him down for an interview, then shuffle him off to some arena underbelly for photos upon photos. Connor performs his niceties, but before he is taken back, he asks to stay. He wants to watch Dylan get drafted.

The Buffalo Sabres come second, and pick Jack Eichel. Eichel is asked, throughout, how he feels about Connor, being behind Connor, coming second to Connor. The narrative being pushed is called McEichel -- the Canadian wunderkind versus the American one -- and he wants no part in it. He’s impressed by Connor’s play, in their few brief meetings he thinks of him as nice enough, he wants to carve out his own path.

This refusal to play along may have been the start of the discontent, in hindsight. The media clearly wasn’t going to get anything out of soft-voiced scared-eyed perfect Canadian boy Connor, but Jack, sharper edges and colder heart, might be good for a soundbite or two about this new league-made rivalry. Jack, though, ever aware, puts himself solidly into Generic Hockey Interview voice and backs off.

The Coyotes come third. Here is where a choice occurs, the first genuine decision. Connor McDavid had been slotted into first pick since the day he got accepted for exceptional status. Eichel had taken a few years more, but his place in second after Connor was well known for months on end. Dylan and Mitch, however, were up in the air. Do you pick the big one with more points, or the small one with star power?

The Coyotes follow the conventional hockey wisdom, and take the big boy. Connor waits to watch his friend take the jersey, then hugs him in the wings.

Finally, the Leafs.

Let’s actually take a step back to talk about the Leafs rebuild, for a second, because it, like everything the Leafs have ever done, is a testament to failure. Also, somewhat, because it is relevant. Also, moreso, because I can’t shut up about hockey and you’ve asked me to talk as long as I like. If you’re still reading, I want you to know that a) I am ever thankful for your time and b) we’re, like, just getting started here.

The Leafs’ last contending era was before the 04-05 lockout season, which means it predates the salary cap. They struggled in the midsection, for a long time, then finally fell enough to gain the fifth overall pick in 2008, with which they selected a big tough young defenceman named Luke Schenn, the first official piece of the Leafs’ rebuild, strange as it may be. Luke, while competent enough, was obviously not the sort of franchise-changing star the Leafs needed, and they struggled in the midsection again, before gaining, once more, the fifth overall pick, with which they selected Schenn’s partner, one Morgan Rielly. The two would be perfect partners, but we won’t know this for eleven years. Luke was traded twelve hours after Rielly’s draft.

Rielly is still in the AHL the next year, 2013, when the Leafs make the playoffs. This is the infamous 4-1 series: the Leafs go down 3-1 in the series, claw their way back up to game seven. They gain a 4-1 lead, going into the third period, and then blow it completely and lose the game, and the series, in overtime. They do not make the playoffs in 2013-14, and before the 2014-15 season begins they change management. The man they install as President decides to tank, and tank hard, selling as much of the Leafs as he can in the hopes of landing that elusive first pick.

They end up with fourth overall, and Mike Babcock, the Leafs’ head coach, does not want Mitch Marner, instead asking the then-management for the bigger defenceman, a boy named Hanifin who will go fifth to the Hurricanes. The Leafs take Marner anyway. Watch him as his name is called. He, like the first three, sits in a nest of other prospects and their families -- Mitch actually sits right behind Jack Eichel -- but unlike them, when his name is called the other prospects lean over to offer him congratulations, as well as his parents and brother. Mat Barzal, from across the aisle, offers a bro-hug as Mitch goes by.

The rest of the draft goes as usual. The 2015 draft, beyond narratively, is one of the deepest drafts in recent memory; players you may recognize include Timo Meier, Mikko Rantanen, Travis Konecny, Sebastian Aho (the Carolina one!), Roope Hintz, Kirill Kaprizov, Troy Terry… the list goes on. These players have their own stories, but few really tie in to this one. (So far.)

Summer passes; we move on. Training camp rolls around.

Connor McDavid, as expected, makes the team. He moves in with Taylor Hall, a fellow first overall. Jack Eichel also makes the team.

Dylan and Mitch do not. Dylan’s reasons are unknown to me, but Mitch is sent down because, again, Babcock does not want him. He’s naturally undersized and does not have a frame that builds muscle; Babcock is not under the impression that young men in Mitch’s image make good hockey players. Both Mitch and Dylan are returned to the OHL.

The stage is set now; each boy has a team. Eight years on, only half of them are on those teams. But we can’t worry about that yet! We have to make it to the NHL first!

World Juniors and the Memorial Cup

Once Connor makes the Oilers, Dylan Strome is named captain of the Erie Otters. Very cool, to only get what you deserve after the golden boy is gone.

Jack and Connor are off playing with the big boys. They’ll get their own section later -- we have to work our way up, not up and down and up and down. I’ve got to be somewhat cohesive, you know? So, we’ll stay, for now, in the world of junior hockey.

The Otters and the London Knights, Mitch’s team, are in the wonderful circumstance of not only both being very good at the same time, but also being in the same division as one another. This means they see each other quite often (no plane travel in the OHL. Bus only.) and have thus formed… a bit of a rivalry. It is becoming difficult to dance around: Dylan Strome, despite the politeness they’ve shown each other at the draft, hates Mitch Marner.

And why wouldn’t you? He’s the one Dylan fought with all last season for the OHL scoring title; he’s fast on his feet and can shoot from impossible angles; he makes plays you’ve never even considered, much less considered possible. He dangles through the Otters and scores the easiest impossible goal you’ve ever seen and laughs as light as air about the whole thing. And he’s tiny. Unfortunately for the rest of us, Marner drew a lot of comparisons to Patrick Kane in his junior days -- thankfully without the character in common, but as a hockey player. An undersized (almost comically so) London winger with otherworldly ability to manifest scoring chances out of nothing. The exact sort of irritating worm that not one of us wants on the other team.

So, of course, they get put on the same team.

The 2016 World Juniors are summoned. Connor McDavid, then dealing with a broken collarbone and a great deal of pressure, is not on Team Canada’s roster. Dylan Strome and Mitch Marner both are. Suddenly and thankfully, the media’s focus shifts from one, false rivalry in McEichel to a very very real one.

I don’t want to dismiss what happens next as a mere symptom of the fact that hockey players are engineered to get along with their teammates, even if they don’t like each other. Admittedly, it does start that way -- Mitch is a winger and Dylan a centre, and both skilled, so the coach puts them on the same line. Simple enough. And then they spark up a friendship.

Dylan’s reasons for hating Mitch were not personal, just hockey-related. Dylan hated Mitch because he was good and he knew it, the simple way a teenager hates their direct competitor. On the same team, though, the competition aspect is removed, and the barrier for hatred is gone. This is the Dylan/Mitch enemies to lovers arc, if you want to put it that way.

Mitch, for the record, I doubt ever hated Dylan. He doesn’t have that in him, never had. He saw a rival, sure, and as soon as that rival wore a matching jersey I assume he taped the word friend over whatever defined their relationship before. Mitch is probably one of the most gregarious, friendly, charming hockey players out there. Beyond his cute little face and on-ice highlights, even. He’s loud, sure, but when he talks he knows how to include you. He finds out what you like and talks about it, he singles you out if you’re shy and builds up your confidence. He’s just plain nice.

Dylan, like the rest of us, was charmed. Within weeks he went from calling Mitch annoying to telling us all about how he loves cuddling (!?) with him. They became fast friends and great linemates.

Dylan’s not the only one Mitch Marner befriends at Worlds, though. Somewhere between matches, Mitch takes an elevator at the complex they’re staying at, and ends up sharing it with a boy from the American team, a tall square-jawed Mexican centre with a Justin Bieber obsession. This is Auston Matthews, one of the projected top picks of the 2016 draft -- born just two days after the cutoff that would have made him eligible to go in 2015. He played with Jack Eichel at the USNTDP, before taking his age-eighteen year to go play pro in Switzerland. He holds the NTDP scoring record as a seventeen-year-old, and will continue to hold it until Jack Hughes breaks onto the scene. The two boys in the elevator do not yet know it, but they are about to share the mantle of franchise saviour, for the franchise most desperately in need of saving.

Either way. The Canadians place sixth at World Juniors, the Americans do better, the Finns win the whole thing. (In the long run, Laine turns out not to be better than Matthews after all.) Mitch and Dylan go back to their OHL teams.

Erie and London tie in points that year, but London wins the OHL title and goes to Alberta for the Memorial Cup, the CHL trophy. Mitch Marner takes home the scoring title, the Stafford Smythe (CHL equivalent of the Conn Smythe), and the Memorial Cup itself. He is one of the most decorated winners in OHL history, touted as being clutch, creating magic, and racking up points. He has close friends in Dylan Strome and fellow Knight Matthew Tkachuk, who will be selected sixth overall in the 2016 draft, the second American after Auston Matthews himself. And when NHL training camp rolls around in the fall, even Babcock cannot deny he is ready, no matter how slight he may still be.

Connor Complex

There’s nothing that fuels story like a good rivalry, and the NHL was obsessed with marketing this rivalry. The Canadian versus the American. The perfect child of a long line of red-blooded southern Ontario tradition versus the Boston boy with a chip on his shoulder. Jack and Connor, Connor and Jack. They hyped Jack up the time leading up to the draft, trying to hint that he was almost as good -- no, just as good -- as McDavid himself.

He was not, and everyone knew.

The 2014-15 Sabres, then the worst team in the NHL and having done an elite job at tanking (they are one of the worst teams in the analytics era, besides the 2022-23 Anaheim Ducks -- I wonder what prize might be waiting at that number one spot? Surely not someone named Connor.) wanted McDavid. The Pegulas, the owners of the Sabres, tried to hide their disappointment in him as pride. They had an all-American star, they said, someone who had grown up not too far from Buffalo himself, and in the same country, no less. He would be the sort of man to lead them into a new golden age, away from the misery of the tank years.

And yet the narrative persisted. McEichel, they whispered. Look at how good Connor McDavid is, and look at how much Eichel is not him. McDavid, they say, McDavid McDavid McDavid. No article could be written about Jack without mentioning how he came second to Connor.

The Sabres tried to quell the whispers. Look at our boy, they say. They signed Eichel to an eight-year, ten million dollar contract, and in the beginning of the 2018-19 season they named him captain. Isn’t our boy great.

The team does not improve. The Sabres hadn’t made the playoffs for three years when they drafted Eichel; they still haven’t made the playoffs today. I wasn’t around to look, but the team was bad. Eichel did his best, but he was young and inexperienced and did not -- never did -- have captain’s blood in him; Ryan O’Reilly lost his love for the game.

The whispers of character issues start to come out. Jack Eichel is a “locker room cancer;” he’s selfish, stuck-up, quick-tempered. He’s caught in a cage where the only key is to be Connor, something which he never wanted to achieve in the first place, and never could have even if he did want it. The whole narrative was completely fabricated. He liked Connor well enough when they met.

I do imagine he has feelings about it, though, and feelings about Connor now. He didn’t know him, not enough to have an opinion on the boy, but the name followed him around long enough for him to think about it. Imagine it. You’re good in your field, great, even. You’re doing well enough to earn yourself a superstar contract, you’re an All-Star, and yet the only way you will get any recognition at all is when they say that you are worse than one of the greatest players ever to play the game. They lock you into a connection that you have never wanted, barring you from forging your own path. You exist permanently in that orange-and-blue shadow. I don’t blame Jack for being angry. I would be too.

Babcock

Auston Matthews was incredible from the jump. He was big, he was strong, his wrister is the stuff of legend. He won the Calder in his and Mitch’s rookie year, by a not insignificant margin, well ahead of Laine. He was a coach’s dream doll, unusual enough to be marketed and good enough to be useful. Unavoidably masculine even at nineteen.

Mitch less so. Mitch is still small, remember, and struggles to gain weight. I know I talk about his size a lot, but it’s genuinely important. Hockey and its fan culture has long been a group that prioritized size and raw power above all things. Mitch possessed neither of those things, and when he struggled with gaining muscle it was seen as an unwillingness to try. If you know anything about the ability of our bodies to gain or lose weight, you know that it is simply a genetic roll of the dice, a scale that puts a little bit of us into the “gains muscle mass easily” category and decides when to stop. Most hockey players actually aren’t very far up the muscle-gaining spectrum, especially when compared to American football or baseball players -- mass is strength, yes, but it’s also more to move around on ice -- but Mitch is especially low on the scale. Because of this, he is seen as unmanly, a dangerous thing to be.

The Leafs media market is a nightmare, and always has been. Because this is the Centre of the Universe, there are more eyes on the Leafs than on any other team. More eyes mean more writers, means you have to say weirder and wilder things to beg for clicks. Outrage is a good marketing tactic. Getting mad about one of the prize prospects seemingly not wanting to bulk up for the good of the team is a very easy thing to do.

What’s more, Mitch, after his entry-level contract had expired, had had a very difficult and long-drawn out contract negotiation, asking for a lot of money -- essentially the maximum that the Leafs could afford at the time. Because of the salary cap constraint, this was seen as kind of selfish. The angry clicks move. Mitch is sensitive, they say. Soft, selfish, weak.

It’s easy enough to dismiss out of hand when your uncle from Belleville does it, because what does he know. It’s different when it’s the head coach of the Leafs. Mike Babcock, is, at the time of hiring, the highest-paid coach in the NHL. He was signed before the 2015-16 season, and at that point had an eight-year contract, which would have carried him up until this year.

Mike Babcock sucked. Structurally, his teams were fine -- the Leafs made the playoffs in 2016-17, and haven’t missed it since, but he was awful, horribly mean to the boys under him, and especially, especially Mitch. 

We should skip ahead a little bit. It’s the beginning of the 2019-20 season. The Leafs have made the playoffs three times already, and lost in the first round each time -- but this, too, is not yet a phrase that strikes worry into our hearts. They’re young, and they have plenty of time left. 

Respected veteran Jason Spezza came home to the Leafs, having spent his career -- a player who might squeak the Hall of Fame, but is more likely just below its level -- in first Ottawa, where he was the captain of the Senators briefly and one of its most well-loved players, and then Dallas. Like the boys I talk about here, Jason Spezza is a former OHL player, a GTA boy, a Leafs fan. The Leafs’ season opener is against Ottawa, the team where Jason Spezza left most of his mark. There used to be a promotion with the Senators -- a local branch of some pizza chain would offer a free slice if the Sens scored more than five goals in a game. Spezza (and his linemates, Heatley and Alfredsson) were so good, they named his line the Pizza line. Mike Babcock makes Jason Spezza a healthy scratch on that day.

This is seen as disrespectful, but no more than a coach living up to his hardass reputation. You do what the coach tells you, don’t you? Lest you become a whiner, or worse, a locker room cancer. Scratching an extremely well-respected veteran on the opener against his former team is just something some guys do. A message, if you will. Stay the course, Babcock just wants his players to respect him.

And then news of the list leaks.

It happened when Mitch was a rookie, but they kept it hidden for three years. The Leafs went on a father-and-sons trip, one they do every season. They’re on a road trip, with only their fathers, isolated from their home.

(A brief aside to talk about Mitch’s dad; his name is Paul Marner, and he is the most stereotypical hardass hockey dad on the planet. A nitpicker, an armchair coach, a bully. I do not imagine Mitch felt particularly comforted by his and Babcock’s combined presence on this trip.)

Babcock approached Mitch and asked him to organize all of his teammates in a list. He wanted Mitch to arrange them in order of hardest workers to laziest; he thought Mitch was one of the lazy ones, and wanted to drive this point home by making him categorize his teammates like this. Mitch, as a rookie hockey player does in the presence of the Maple Leaf hanging over his head like the sword of Damocles, obliged. He was under the impression it would be a private affair, just an assignment from Babcock to teach him some sort of lesson. Whether it be out of fear or honesty, he placed himself last on the list. 

Babcock told the others.

Specifically, two Leafs vets that Mitch had placed low on the list -- Nazem Kadri and Tyler Bozak. Imagine this: you are a decent centre on a bubble team, but nonetheless an established NHL veteran of about a decade, and your coach shows you a list a rookie made. He tells you that the rookie arranged everyone by work ethic, grinders to lazy shits. You are firmly on the “lazy shit” end.

How much does the coach have to suck, or how much does the rookie have to be loved, for Kadri and Bozak to react like they did? The rumour says they called for Babcock’s head on the spot. Mitch was in tears. I wouldn’t want to stay in Toronto if that happened to me. No wonder he and Auston signed for so much -- Babcock was barely halfway through his contract when they did. If I’d thought that I would have to deal with him for that long, I wouldn’t accept anything less than as much as they could possibly pay me.

In the end, in the beginning of December, 2019, Mitch got hurt and the Leafs went on a road trip. They were already losing by the time they’d left, and they kept losing. Normally, a team on a road trip doesn’t take the hurt players with them, but they took Mitch. The Leafs lost six in a row and finally fired Babcock, letting Sheldon Keefe take his place. Mitch’s presence was a comfort.

Go West

The Leafs make the playoffs first, and take Mitch with them. The Sabres are fighting a silent war with their star centre, but they are no closer to success. 

Connor McDavid is named captain at nineteen, the youngest in the history of the NHL. He scrapes the team to a playoff spot, then to a second round loss. He wins the Art Ross and the Hart.

The year before his entry-level contract expires, when he is first eligible, he signs what is then the most expensive per-year contract in NHL history -- eight years, a hundred million dollars. He is looking forward to spending the rest of his prime as an Oiler. He wins the Art Ross the next year, comes very close the year after. The Oilers do not make the playoffs again until after Covid hits.

He gets hurt a lot, too -- he breaks his collarbone as a rookie, missing half the season, and at the very end of the 2018-19 year, crashes into the net irons and shatters his knee. There are rumours of the man who broke Connor’s collarbone doing it on purpose; Connor claims that he overheard the man bragging about it, and I am inclined to believe him. This guy gets traded to the Oilers not too long after that.

In the meantime, Dylan is struggling. The Coyotes stick him in Tucson, a team he is obviously too good for. His entry-level contract slides another season. He wiffles between Tucson and Arizona, not being considered good enough to stay up but being too good to stay down. In the end, on the last year of his entry-level contract, he is traded from the Coyotes to the Chicago Blackhawks, a similarly bad team with a few remnants of its Cup-winning days. Dylan, a feeble icon of Chicagoan hope for one last dance with the aging core, centres Patrick Kane.

In his first half-season with the Blackhawks, he scores 51 points in 58 games. There are hopeful flashes of what he can be, the touted prospect he once was. 

Things wrap up on New Years like this: Connor is beyond a hundred-point pace; Dylan, although in no less danger, is at least out of the dust at the bottom of the barrel; Jack is caught in a cold war; the team loves Mitch. 

John Tavares has a Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Playoff Series

March of 2020 rolls around, and with it the coronavirus pandemic. The league is shut down before the season ends, and the playoffs re-formed in July, inside a bubble -- no one in, no one out until they are eliminated. The Sabres stay with their families, having once again missed the playoffs. The Leafs are set to play the Columbus Blue Jackets, and the Oilers are set to play the Blackhawks.

This, to date, is Dylan’s only playoff appearance, and he is set to face Connor.

Dylan wins.

The qualifying round -- functioning as the first round of the bubble playoffs -- is a best of five, not of seven, and the Blackhawks defeat the Oilers 3-1. They then proceed to lose in five games (this one is a best of seven) to Vegas, but Dylan’s job is done.

The Leafs lose in the first round again. The Leafs have made the playoffs since Auston and Mitch’s debut, every single year, but they lose each time; in six, to the Capitals, then in seven every year after that. Or, in this case, in five.

Covid had not stopped by the end of the 2020 season ( :/ ) and the NHL was rearranged for what would be ostensibly the 2020-2021 season, but ended up being played mostly in 2021. Because of border laws, the Canadian teams are sequestered into their own, North division. Dylan Strome signs a two-year contract extension with Chicago right before the season starts -- one that will carry him until the end of the 2021-2022 season. 

If you’ve seen All or Nothing on Amazon Prime, it is this season that is covered. The Leafs tear through what is seen as a weaker North division, taking a comfortable first place spot. Connor McDavid cracks a hundred points in fifty-six games. Both Leafs and Oilers lose in the first round.

The Leafs do it perhaps most remarkably. They have drawn the Canadiens, a rather insubstantial team who are in their spot mostly because they have one of the best goaltenders in recent memory at their back.

I watched this game, live, before I was a serious Leafs fan. I can only imagine what it would be like if you were already invested at that point; I would not wish to live that horror on anyone. I tried to watch All or Nothing, later, but I stop here. 

Corey Perry and John Tavares are both on the ice, in the race for the puck. Tavares catches an edge, as you sometimes do, and falls, and Perry’s knee is in exactly the wrong place at exactly the wrong time, and it catches Tavares in the side of the head. He falls to the ice, his limbs splaying unnaturally. He won’t move. 

Medics come over, to try and raise him to his feet. He fights against them, blood streaming from a cut in his forehead, unable to tell if they are trying to hurt him or not. There is no one in the crowd, the stadium empty for the pandemic. The camera cuts to Kyle Dubas in the rafters, who has a phone in his hand and swiftly vanishes back into the halls of the arena. He is calling Tavares’ wife. We do not know what is going to happen. Everyone looks shaken -- the Habs have just watched a man nearly die, the Leafs have just lost their captain, perhaps forever. They lose, although the game feels like an afterthought. I do not want to watch hockey anymore.

They win the next three straight, though, even without him. Then they lose, twice, in overtime.

The Leafs, as they have done for the past four years up to this point, go to game seven.

Partway through the game, Mitch Marner panics in his defensive zone and puts the puck over the glass. This is a penalty, it is a penalty every time, and he knows that. He sits in the box, looking defeated already. He curls in on himself, and the camera flashes to the penalty box. He’s crying. He knows the game is lost.

The Leafs are eliminated again, and there is a target on his back now, not only for the puck going over the glass but for the tears. He’s soft, they say. As they have said since he was picked, because he doesn’t look like a hockey player should, because he doesn’t act like a hockey player should, because he doesn’t play hockey like a hockey player should. He makes too much and he disappears when it matters.

Thoughts on the Leafs’ playoff successes suddenly switch from the core is young, even if this is frustrating to they need to win before it’s too late. Already, in recent years, they have suffered historic game-seven chokes and drastic failures to launch. Whether they do it against teams like the President’s Trophy-winning Capitals or the barely-alive wild-card Canadiens is irrelevant. They cannot win a round, at all. The Leafs are already the team with the greatest Cup drought, and they are now gaining a long playoff round victory drought too. It should be time, at least, for them to look like they are a contender. 

This is how the Leafs find themself stuck; a particularly frustrating timeloop, even though hockey itself is nothing but. Sports are cyclical by nature. A team is bad, then okay, then good, then declining, then bad again, and this repeats anew. Some teams try to get themselves out of this cycle by being good forever; I can assure you that this only really happens to the New York Yankees, who employ a cadre of evil wizards to keep everything on that hell team going well for them. Most other teams who try end up stuck like the Canucks are, right now: bad enough to miss the playoffs, but not good enough to get key picks for a rebuild. I can see next season play out, clear as day: they struggle out of the gate, one of their stars gets hurt right when it seems like they’re at the very, very start of gathering momentum, they’re bottom-10 by January and the team says everyone but Pettersson are on the table, they trade picks and low-grade players, they get blazing hot post-deadline and finish twenty-first.

There is, unfortunately, also a perception that pure talent is not what makes players playoff performers -- instead, some so-called “clutch gene” that exists, or not. The reality is somewhere in between. Clutch exists. There are always players who can score when no one else can even dream of it, but a greater problem is luck. President’s Trophy winners are not often Cup winners (even if higher seeds are most likely to win), because the regular season is a much, much bigger sample size and the playoffs can change the course of all of it by a goalie having a hot streak at the right time. The 2018-19 Tampa Bay Lightning, third-best team in NHL history, got swept in the first round by Sergei Bobrovsky going crazy. The 2022-23 Bruins lost in seven in the first round in much the same manner.

And no matter what, the Leafs are always on the wrong end of the luck. Bounces hit the post. The refs take back goals for reasons they would have ignored at any other time of year. John Tavares slips, and his head makes contact with a knee.

Mitch ends up the whipping boy. He is the Leafs’ most valuable player, and this is a team with Auston Matthews on it, but I’m serious. He was the Leafs’ leading playoff scorer in 2023, he’s one of the best penalty-killers in the league, he’s adored by everyone who’s ever once talked to him. He only ever wanted to be a Leaf, and now that he is here he is the sacrificial lamb for the anger at a curse that is not his fault.

I do blame the media. I will always blame the media, those who turn on him at a moment’s notice because they know picking on the skinny pretty unmanly one will get more clicks than anything else. I beg of you -- know that, of anything that it could be, it is not Mitch’s fault.

Jack Eichel has a Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Neck Injury

It is 2021, and the Sabres aren’t going to make the playoffs. Jack Eichel has been captain for coming up on three years, and has been a Sabre for coming up on six, none of which have even slightly improved the team. He is widely disliked within the fanbase, and, rumouredly, within the locker room and organization. 

Jack is frustrated, dragging a mediocre team along through a slog of the past six years, and he has never been the kindest man on the planet. He is about to get worse. The Sabres are on a losing streak when they head to Long Island, and Jack is hit the wrong way and slips a disk in his neck. The Sabres insist he’ll only be out a week and a half. 

It is a great sin in hockey, to go against team. Anything that can be seen as selfish is demonized; shooting from a difficult angle when your teammate is wide open, not playing when you can muscle through the pain. Not trusting your coach or management is about as bad as you can get. If you’re a team guy, willing to sacrifice health and limb for the boys, you are held as saint, no matter how hurt you become in the end. This is a philosophy that has been drilled into these men since they were kids, as soon as they put their first skates on. You can stand any pain for the length of a hockey shift; you can play through anything for two minutes. It is a dangerous, dangerous school of thought, one of the most destructive parts of hockey culture. But it is, nonetheless, law.

Eichel is about to commit a sin so great they’ll kick him out of Heaven. I do think that, of the four of them, he is the only one with any semblance of genre awareness: when he was first scouted as a prospect and they were comparing him to McDavid, I think that he would be the only one to ignore the media’s spin on that as thoroughly as he did. He knows what he is, and he knows himself. Of course it comes off as bitchy and selfish, though -- that kind of pressure can’t be kind to anyone.

Before the week and a half is up, he visits a specialist doctor about his neck. This is where it all starts to go wrong.

The Sabres take issue with that for two reasons: one, that they hoped he’d be able to come back after the end of it. Keep in mind that he has herniated a disk in his neck, an injury typically so severe it’s impressive he’s walking -- slipping a cervical disk often causes nerve pain that radiates down through the entire spinal cord below that point, which is the whole body from how high up his is. Two, that the doctor he consults is an independent surgeon, one unaffiliated with the Sabres themselves. 

The thing about belonging to a hockey team is that you are, because of the way your employment is linked to your physical health, essentially their property. They make your medical decisions for you, they feed you, they tell you how to move. Going to someone else is a breach of contract, and the already-tense connection between Jack and the Sabres gets more tense. The Sabres keep losing. They lose eighteen games in a row.

Jack’s doctor recommended a surgery that no NHL player has ever had; cervical disk replacement. The Sabres did not want this -- the surgery carries risks, yes, but they also wanted to control the way that Jack’s injury was handled, and going through with this surgery was Jack’s wish, not theirs. The Sabres do their own evaluation, and ask for a different, more common surgery: spinal fusion. This surgery carries less immediate risk, but the bones in Eichel’s neck will also be fused, and he doesn’t want that. Because the team has final control over a player’s health, not the player, they decline his disk replacement. Having reached a stalemate, they rule him out for the rest of the season, trying to win a war of attrition.

September 2021 rolls around, and the Sabres, along with thirty-one other teams, take training camp. At the beginning of training camp, players do a physical exam. Jack, because his herniated disk has not improved, because he needs a surgery that has been denied from him, because he is stubbornly and bravely willing to wait out the Sabres, fails his physical. As a result, the Sabres, fed up with him, strip the captain’s C from his chest.

Jack makes one final request to the team: either let him get the surgery or trade him. In the end, they trade him to the Vegas Golden Knights, a team that did not exist when he was drafted. The Golden Knights approve him for the disk replacement surgery the day they acquire him.

The surgery is a success; his rehab goes better than anyone expects, and he starts tearing it up when he comes back. I would argue that, if the Golden Knights win the Cup this year, he should get the Conn Smythe -- he has been an invaluable member of the team, even without a letter on his chest.

It is less important for him to win his million awards than it is for him to come in and out of this surgery in the first place, still able to play. He fought with the team that was supposed to have upheld him as their star for months over his right to do what he wanted with his own health; in the end, the only way to go was for him to change that team. He was the first to have this surgery, but after him there have already been hockey players who have undergone it -- much like Tommy John, the baseball player who got his ulnar ligament reconstructed and the surgery to do so named after him. He fought for the chance to control his own body and won.

And for that, he was demonized.

The Sabres missed the playoffs every year they had him; they missed the playoffs every year after he left. Because he was the captain and he had the audacity to go against the organization’s wishes, he was hated. In Buffalo, he is still hated. If you ask, they’ll tell you he was a locker room cancer, that he was undevoted to winning. If you look at him in Vegas, neither of those things are true.

Jack Eichel is a rare man -- he does have that “clutch” gene, or rather doesn’t have the choke instinct. He has always been unbothered by the spiral around him. He operates well in the mire, and when the pressure rises it doesn’t affect him (or maybe, even better, he feeds on it.) He has the right kind of mentality -- that fuck-you, I’m here and you can’t change that, you tried to control me and I wouldn’t bend mentality. He has only made the playoffs once, this year. Like Dylan, actually, his only appearance has involved defeating Connor McDavid. Go back and watch his highlights from the Vegas-Edmonton series if you can: he has a couple of pretty goals and more than a couple great defensive takeaways, but he doesn’t lose his cool, not once. He has earned his right to be here, and he knows it more than anyone else. I’m rooting for the Stars, but I hope he wins some day.

153

How do you talk about the Edmonton Oilers? I mean, without either excusing or demonizing them, although I admit I have Hater Instinct and trend towards the latter. They have the best player in the world; that grown-up incarnation of the wide-eyed boy on the Erie rink. They have the best playoff performer in the world; Leon Draisaitl, who I have not avoided mentioning until now on purpose, but whom I cannot continue without bringing up. They have been terribly cap-managed since the day McDavid was drafted, and are an unstable roster with blazing-hot offense and very little defence or goaltending at all.

For a brief moment, let’s not talk about the Oilers. Let’s only talk about Connor himself.

McDavid has 850 points in 569 career games. Not even Sid had that many points through that few games. If he stays healthy, Connor’s well on track to become the second player ever to hit two thousand for his career -- after a certain other Oiler, who need not be mentioned. He has won just about every award you can win, with the exception of the Selke… and the Cup.

If it’s possible, he has proven himself better than all of the hype at the draft saying he would become a great. To watch him, you can see the way he has changed his team, how even though they have all learned from him that he is still the best.

There is something that many Oilers do. When next your team plays them, pay attention to it: they cut into the offensive zone with possession on the outside, using tight little crossovers to gain speed, after which they’ll usually try to rush the net (if there are no defenders in the way). This is a move that McDavid has patented; he’ll use it, just as many of the others will, but he’ll probably be the one that scores. The depth all skate like him, really, fast and in wide arcs, trying to generate a rush chance. 

Connor as a player is a tour de force, the best power-player in the world by a mile, no slouch at even strength, speedy enough to score even shorthanded. The boy’s got wheels. Sometimes it’s hard to tell which NHLers are fast and which are slow, but Connor’s just that tick above everyone else that you can see it without eye training at all.

Connor as a person is a bit less showy. He’s quiet by nature, shy and soft-voiced. Because he was hyped so much (franchise saviour, McJesus, Next One) he has been media trained into sterility, giving the same level answers as everyone else, hardly daring to express any opinion at all. His eyes are big, rounded, and one of them is lazy from a time when his brother tried to take it out as a child, and that combined with his heavy brow and stiff expression -- he’s never been a good smiler, smirks with one corner of his mouth and that’s mostly it -- give him a resting expression of something like concern, or maybe despair. When he laughs, he doesn’t really “laugh,” just kind of coughs, a one or two-syllable affair. He avoids eye contact with the camera, and often the reporters as well. There is no seething emotion under the surface, not like with Eichel, nor does he speak analytically like Dylan does. He moves through his life as if he is someone who does not want it to turn out quite like this.

I do not know if he wants to be in Edmonton. There are jokes about how he is desperate to leave, but I definitely don’t believe those; there’s a difference between not wanting to stay and wanting to go. I don’t think he hates it. He has been given a responsibility, the captain’s C -- and because, unlike Jack Eichel, he is a good Canadian boy who has been given a destiny, he accepts it. He loves his teammates, especially Draisaitl, whom he seems to derive all his confidence from.

I will also say that I don’t believe he’s stupid. Naive, perhaps; not stupid. There is no way out for him, even if he was sure he wanted to leave; he’s the best player in the world, far too expensive for any contender to afford in either trade or cap space, and if he asks for a trade he won’t let himself go to a team that isn’t already a contender. He will remain an Oiler at least until his contract is up, and I imagine that his staying afterwards depends on Draisaitl.

People talk about him leaving a lot, largely because of the team that has been assembled around him. The Oilers are not a well-created team, and I will say that plainly now and spend as little time technically deconstructing it as possible.

Beyond McDavid and Draisaitl, they have:

A rookie starting goaltender, whose success as we know it is based on a single-season sample size and a complete playoff collapse.

A five million dollar backup goaltender, who earned his contract by being carried by the Leafs, despite being utterly horrendous for a long enough stretch leading up to his free agency that anyone who looked beyond the win-loss numbers wouldn’t have signed him.

One genuine shutdown defender.

One young up-and-coming defender; by far one of the most promising Oiler (or otherwise) defensive prospects, beyond the usual suspects.

One netfront grinder who is great at playing wing to high-power setters, but cannot drive his own line.

One decent 2C.

Sarah Nurse’s cousin. Sarah’s better.

A supporting cast of bad defencemen and middling-at-best forwards.

Many charming characters, of course: Zach Hyman, the grinder, is a beloved ex-Leaf, and I’m personally a fan of Nugent-Hopkins, the 2C, but the vast majority of this is not the sort of thing a contending team is built upon. McDavid has missed the playoffs almost as often as he’s made them. The playoffs are a crapshoot, but in order to try your luck you have to at least be able to enter the lottery, and it takes a stunning amount of effort to be able to do that.

So, McDavid lingers, in this kind of limbo. It mirrors the Leafs, almost. (And yes. Because McDavid is an Ontario boy, and the Leafs are the Centre of the Universe, we have to mention them both in conversation. Not all stories revolve around the Leafs, but this one does.) One true contender, and one generational talent, both what we picture to be well overdue for their Cup run, but neither having yet done so. 

The thing about the stories of the class of 2015 is that they intertwine, that they mimic and mirror each other. These boys have not simply gotten drafted in the same handful of picks in the same year and gone on their merry ways -- they layer, they parallel, they weave around each other. Connor is the captain of a team that cannot win, Jack is a captain, Mitch cannot win. Jack fought for the right to control his body and was demonized for it; Mitch negotiated for a contract that he determined to be a fair price for Babcock, and was demonized for it. Whatever pure saviour they figure Connor to be, Jack is the twisted inverse of that, falling from grace.

Connor has one of the best seasons in NHL history, one of only seventeen player-seasons with over a hundred and fifty points (Nine of those seasons belong to Gretzky. Another four belong to Lemieux.) He loses, in six games in the second round, to the Vegas Golden Knights. At the time that he’s eliminated, he leads the playoffs in points. Leon Draisaitl is tied for second place. Counting from the date Mitch Marner played his first game in the NHL, the Oilers and Leafs have almost exactly the same number of playoff game wins, with the Oilers having one more.

There’s No Place Like Strome

Before we can look to the future, there is one person I have been neglecting. Dylan, poor Dylan. I think it would be only half an unfair assessment to call him a draft bust. He’s talented, for sure, but not nearly the same calibre that the draftees around him are. Hardly a Marner, an Eichel, or even a Rantanen or a Meier. 

His career has existed quietly in the shadows, so far from Connor McDavid that it only feels fair to mention them in the same conversation in this context. It has been eight years since they were best friends, Connor so close to Dylan he waited in the stadium in order to watch him get drafted. They didn’t look each other in the eye in the handshake line when Dylan won their series. Connor didn’t go to his wedding.

That being said: so far, he has found himself a knack for landing in the shadow of greatness. When he was an Erie Otter, it was Connor -- Dylan held the scoring title in their draft year, while Connor was out nursing his hand, but Connor was the chosen son and Dylan was the Coyotes’ consolation prize. When he was traded to the Blackhawks, he found himself centring Kane and Debrincat, but of course both of them were the offseason and trade deadline’s prizes, and not him.

And then he signed in Washington.

So now, we go back to Ovechkin. Alex Ovechkin is one of the greatest players of all time; his Capitals are on the decline now, but they contended for a long time while he was playing and may still contend as long as Ovi still skates. For a long time, the team relied on Ovechkin’s goalscoring, assisted mostly by his faithful centre, Nicklas Backstrom. They, too, are married; they have played a thousand games as teammates, been through a decade of heartbreak together before the Cup was theirs. During the 2021-2022 season, Backstrom took time off -- he needed hip surgery, something likely to end his career. Ovi was alone.

There is a fundamental difference, of course, between the expectations of wingers and centres. A winger, like Ovi, scores, or assists, at his own leisure, but it is the centre’s job to drive his line. Ovechkin is generational -- he will sink forty goals no matter what -- but he still needs someone to move him out of the defensive zone, someone to make his assist.

Enter Dylan -- a young centre, not especially fast on his feet but intelligent, and clearly experienced in the realm of managing high-calibre wingers (see: Debrincat, and the ghost of Patrick Kane.) He joins the Capitals on a one-year contract, desperate to prove himself. Chicago didn’t want him, and Arizona didn’t either. It takes barely until November before he is, once again, the necessary shadow of greatness. 

Ovechkin, the team’s captain and centrepoint, clearly likes what he sees, and the management does, as well. The Capitals offer Strome a five-year extension.

Maybe it’s because he’s less of a superstar then the other three members of his draft class, but Dylan has a life outside of hockey -- a wife and young daughter. After being thrown away by other teams, and with his new family, I can only imagine that it was… peaceful, if anything, to be offered this contract.

Chicago, after rapidly getting rid of him, Debrincat, and then Kane, would go on to tank spectacularly, and win themselves the first overall pick. They will use it to draft another generational talent. His name is also Connor.

The Blue Wedding

So, here we stand, at the end of it all. Dylan finally has a home, a mother hen of a Russian bear that it has become his job to assist in record-breaking, and soon to be two daughters. Jack has a team that loves him, freedom from pain, and an ongoing potential Cup run. Connor has a sterile mansion, a best friend, and an unsteady team. Mitch’s life is up in the air.

Right as I’m writing this, the general manager of the Leafs has been unceremoniously kicked out. His tenure will end the day before Mitch’s no-move contract kicks in, but it is not known if Mitch’s time as a Leaf will survive that long. He is well on track to become one of the greatest Leafs of all time, and his tenure might be cut short in the prime of his career. 

But let’s wrap up with this: Mitch will get married this summer. Because he’s Mitch, the darling of the league, everyone’s best friend, I imagine the wedding party to be extensive/ Packed to the brim of current and former Leafs, as well as people who have never been Leafs. I wonder if Dylan Strome will be there -- or even Connor McDavid, although McDavid never even attended Dylan’s wedding.

The stories, as they do, go on.

[sorenflyinn]

FOAMING IN THE MOUTH LIKE-- FINALLY AN AUTHOR WITH REQUESTS OPEN AND WRITES FOR OUR KING SHOJI!!!!

*ahem* I'm just really excited and hyped-

idk if you rather write this as a oneshot or a headcannon, it's up to you!

How about a telekinesis reader (think of tatsumaki from OPM) who is known to be dating shoji. Like-- the scene here is when shoji tells the whole class about his past like in the manga. Reader is someplace else when his history/face reveal happened. Mina or any of the girls in the class, out of curiosity and care for their friends, asked if reader already saw his face and all. And he's like-- 'Yeah and y/n had a VERY different reaction to it than all of you here.' and the whole class became like low-key angry till he laughed and explained how reader had the most perfect response to his reveal.

Because when he showed his face to reader, reader looked at him sadly while caressing the scar on his face and started saying like "Oh Mezo, what happened? This must have been painful *smiles sadly at him* but even with the scar, I still love you."

Cue Mezo malfunctioning. Because this bitch fr thought he was wearing a mask to hide his scars like 😭 'Im using this mask to hide my face in general???' Like he has to make sure and tried explaining and reader is like- "Huh? Scary? You??" Like-- that's why reader's reaction was his favorite so far. It was not out of fear or pity- it was anticlimactic turned romantic. (Reader probably already had seen too much in the hero field to be phased anymore lmao)

Sorry this got long-- I'm a deprived mezo fan since 2019. And only started brainrotting now when authors and content creators started giving him some love 💕

FOCUSED ON THIS SO HARD AS SOON AS I SAW THIS WONDERFUL IDEA SO I HOPE IT’S HOW YOU IMAGINED 🫶

IGNORING PREPPING FOR FINALS WITH THESE BUT IT’S WORTH IT 🤭

Shoji x gn!reader

a oneshot on how y/n reacts to seeing shoji’s face for the first time (along with class 1-a)

This contains manga spoilers, so read if you’d like

Mezo was worried about doing this without you, his girlfriend, there with him, but he said he would do it, so he’ll follow through with it.

When Aizawa asked for your help in regards to Eri’s power, Mezo decided that it was time to reveal his face to the rest of the class. He didn’t want you caught up in the trouble that might occur with their reactions.

As everyone sat in the main room, he took his mask off, bracing himself for his reactions before telling them all his story.

As he explained it all, their reactions were around the same, shock and horror painting their faces before they all went to hug him.

After a moment of silence, Yaoyorozu spoke up, “Have you shown Y/N yet?”

“Yes I have, and they had a very different reaction to it than you all did.”

All of their eyes widened in shock at what that could mean, and as Shoji realized they were taking it the wrong way, he corrected them, “No, no, they didn’t react badly, they just..”

~~~

You and Mezo were in your room, him fidgeting constantly as he sat on your bed next to you, watching you practice your quirk on different things around your room.

Just as a pencil floated into your hand, you looked over to him, a worried look on your face, “Hey, are you okay? You’ve been fidgeting a lot.”

He turned to you before diverting his eyes, nerves filling him after each second. Taking a breath to calm himself, he looked back at you, “I was thinking.. I’m ready.”

You blinked, “Ready for what?” After a moment you realized, your eyes lighting up in glee, and you gasped, “Really? Are you sure?”

He smiled at you, albeit, under the mask, but you could see the corners of his eyes crinkle a bit which was a telltale sign for you, “Yeah, I’m sure.”

Turning his body towards you fully, he took a deep breath as you did as well. You smiled gently before taking one of his big hands in your own, “Take your time, love.”

He squeezed your hand gently before letting go, his hands going up and lowering his mask. The bundle of nerves in his stomach seemed to quadruple, only for it to melt away as he felt your hand gently cup his cheek.

“Mezo.. what happened?” You gently rubbed your thumb over his cheekbone, “This must’ve been painful.. but even with the scars I still love you.”

It took him a moment to realize, but those words along with how you looked at him showed that you didn’t even realize that the shape of his face was different, and instead you thought his reason for hiding his face was the scars.

“N-No, I don’t hide my face because of the scars, it’s because of.. well, people always told me my face was scary..” He averted his gaze away from you.

“Wh- huh? ‘Scary’??” Bringing your other hand to his face, you brought his gaze back to yours, “All I see is an absolutely gorgeous man, I don’t see anything about you that I would consider ‘scary’.”

After a few moments of looking into each other’s eyes, Mezo’s arms were hugging you to him tightly. No words were spoken as you sat like that in his arms, calmness finally washing over his worries as if they were never there.

“Thank you.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for, Mezo.”

Pulling back, he looks at your lips then back to your eyes, and you nod softly with a small smile. Slowly leaning in, you share a soft kiss.

Bliss fills both of you as you pull back, going back to hugging as he lays back with you on top of him, your weight relaxing him as he feels the exhaustion of worrying catching up to him, causing him to fall asleep on your bed.

~~~

As he finished retelling the story, he looked up at his classmates who all had tears in their eyes as Mina was the first one to speak, “That- *sniff* was such a cute story.”

Right as she blew her nose, you opened the door to the dorms, slightly shocked to see everyone sitting in the main room, and even more, that they were all looking at you.

“I’m guessing I missed something important?” Looking over to your boyfriend, your eyes widened as you saw him without his mask on in front of them. He smiled at you softly, to which you reciprocated instantly, “It seems I did.”

Walking over, you start to see that all of your classmates have tears in their eyes which cause you to worry, looking between them and Mezo. “As much as I’d like to be caught up to speed, I should really go to be-”

You were cut off as Mina and the rest of the girls jumped and hugged you as Ochaco said something about how adorable that story was, but you didn’t think you heard correctly.

Stuck in their grasps, you struggled out a, “Ok, nevermind I’ll just stay here then.” Before hugging them all back.

[acourtofthought]

"Lucien is unwanted by everyone, nobody likes him"

"But he is a good male." Cassian's heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien's face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing. "And I came up here because Feyre said I should. I need to kill a few hours before I'm to meet with her and Rhys. She thought I might enjoy seeing Nesta at work." Elain, the wretch, had taken the seat between Feyre and Varian, about as far from Lucien as she could get. But as Eris strode by...I could have sworn there was something like sadness - like regret, as he glanced at Lucien. The Lady of Autumn's favorite son - not only from Lucien's goodness. But because he was the child she'd dreamed of having ...with the male she undoubtedly loved. "He cares for you." "He is a good male," I repeated. / "I don't like to see either of you unhappy." Friends, I realized. They had somehow become his friends. "He'd already made many friends across the courts and had always been good at talking to people." Ups and downs in friendships, misunderstandings, etc., does not mean a character is unwanted or disliked. Rhys was upset with Lucien at various points throughout the series but guess what? Lucien was upset with Rhys too! For good reason, reasons Feyre continued feeding into at the start of ACOWAR. Feyre was upset with Lucien at points throughout the series? He was upset with her too! He called her an asshole to her face and she admitted it to be true. Sarah continues writing scenes for Lucien because he is important to the overall story. Some of those scenes consisted of disagreements, obstacles, overcoming past beliefs, etc., but the point is they were introduced and resolved and led to the characters building a stronger foundation with one another. If Lucien was unwanted than he would simply disappear from the story like Briar, like Hart and Bron, and so on. Instead Sarah continues to connect him to future plots like Koschei, she has the fan favorites (Feyre, Rhys, etc) remind of us of how much they need Lucien because of his connections, she has Feyre JEALOUS that Lucien is choosing to spend time with Vassa and Jurian over staying with her, we're told how Lucien has super special private meetings with only Rhys and Feyre. As of the most recent book we have Cassian feeling sorry for Lucien regarding his situation with Elain (and Cassian thinking nothing of Az's love life). We have Rhys going to bat for Lucien regarding Elain and ordering Az to stop being an idiot. We have Nesta making conversation with Lucien, we have Feyre asking Lucien to check on Nesta's progress, we have Rhys and Feyre inviting Lucien, the only non Night Court / IC character to Solstice (their FAMILY holiday, something not even the wraiths attend) and Starfall. Tamlin turned his back on Lucien? Tamlin turned his back on his entire court. It's called depression and is not some tally mark for anti's to use as proof that Lucien is unwanted. "Elain clearly doesn't want Lucien". And yet she keeps his gifts and has not formally rejected their bond. She had no issues telling Nesta off, no issues returning Az's gift, so why exactly is she so hesitant to tell Lucien to stop coming around if she truly doesn't want him and never will? Nesta also ignored people because she was running from something so chances are good we're seeing the same with Elain. In one breath we've got anti's claiming that Lucien is forgotten, unimportant, unwanted, hated by all. In the next we've got them claiming E/riel is next while Lucien will receive the book after, where he's so important that he'll defeat Koschei alongside Vassa.