#this may or may not be what you'll read in my gay people fanfiction

[fernlessbastard]

You guys aren't ready for the conversation of how Quackity sincerely loves bottoming

I'm not at all saying he wants to always bottom, I'd say he still prefers topping most of the time, but whenever he's down to get something up his ass, he's DOWN to get something up his ass, if you know what I mean

(the switching applies to position only, tho. I sincerely can't see him genuinely enjoying subbing, and neither can I see Wilbur actually domming unless they're both being influenced by years of internalised homophobia and patriarchy and all that bullshit, but even then it's just cringe and they're just both pretending it's not cause it's easier that way (and the sex itself isn't like, actively bad, not to mention that it provides some degree of an emotional connection which they both desperately crave), plus it's still basically vanilla just with a little bit of dirty talk - that's how i see them in Pogtopia (with Q bottoming - if you want another huge post on their Pogtopia dynamic let me know cause I have so many thoughts on it and how their traumas affected them and their relationship and how complicated it all was))

That being said, man's 10000% intensely fucking traumatised

(tw personal hc and following the logical path from canon implications idfk)(also exaggeration) like, if he were ACTIVELY evil and had ZERO (even personal) moral code, then the amount of anger he feels towards Schlatt for taking away the enjoyment of it is probably enough to ignore all ethics and torture Dream so utterly unimaginably he ends up violating entirety of the Geneva convention, and then having 50 new ones written specifically to condemn his actions, just to break every single one of those as well on the way, just so that Dream gives him the revival book so that he can re-kill Schlatt with his own hands

Also he absolutely re-traumatised himself with Karl and Sapnap cause he was for sure like "I shouldn't be having an intense panic attack right now, I'm going to push all my energy into pretending that everything's ok and that I don't want to cry and scream and rip my skin off. I'm just being silly and dramatic anyway ha ha" which just resulted in them unknowingly hurting him all over again. I take no criticism. Q's got MASSIVE communication issues when it comes to validating his feelings and Karl and Sapnap are "everything's fine"-ing way too much on the daily. And whole Quackity should work on his issues, it IS a partner's job to at least try to check up on the other(s) (and vice versa), and Karl and Sapnap clearly always preferred to ignore any hints that something might be wrong as a general life rule. The relationship was immaturely focused on "fun and good vibes" from the very start, so any bad topic obviously felt out of place. It started off with lack of communication and it died cause of it too.

That's also actually why I will always firmly stand by the fact that Wilbur (during las Nevadas era) is the only person with whom he could ever heal, btw (yes, including Charlie as a hypothetical romantic interest). Cause Schlatt's abusive, Karl and Sapnap "deserve better" in his eyes (so he pretends to be fine until shit hits the fan and everything falls apart)(that also applies to his hypothetical relationship with Charlie). But with Wilbur there's enough distance to feel safe and call out his bullshit without retaliation in form of abuse, and on the other hand he doesn't care to pretend to be perfect - hell, he probably purposefully shoves his issues onto the guy cause he's like "you think you're so strong and stubborn you can handle me??? You think???? Think again." (Wilbur does the same btw). They're purposefully trying to push each other away, destroy the "relationship", show each other just how fucked up they are. They're psycho-competitive. Even being the first one to be "too much" and get abandoned turns into a competition.

But it backfires. They bond. They're real with each other. They're stubborn, they're determined enough to stay just long enough to see each other's walls crack. And once they do, the feelings are quick to spill. They're each other's only people to be GENUINELY themselves with - no masks, no manipulation, no bullshit. Just themselves. And that's the first, CRUCIAL step to developing a healthy relationship (or at least healthier than all their other relationships).

So with Wilbur he probably only tries to bottom either once he ACTUALLY begins to feel like he could maybe try to reclaim it, or even if he tries it in a self-destructive way, (considering their history+patriarchy and shit) Wilbur'd know and care enough to realise Q's just trying to hurt himself. And as shitty as Wilbur can be sometimes, he's not a bad person - he'd stop Q if things'd go too far, or give him (at least a temporary) safe space to safely go through a breakdown without hurting himself like that. He wouldn't take advantage of such a low moment, and he would know enough to recognise it's a low moment in the first place.

Anyway once they figure all that out and Quackity's genuinely comfortable with it again, it's for sure not uncommon for him to enjoy some nice aggressive pounding, all the while having one hand in Wilbur's hair, pulling it to hold him close, and the other hand on Wilbur's neck, lightly choking him as they're intensely making out

All that to say Q's a massive sadist but he's also a huge massochist and he'll absolutely have Wilbur on a nice leash and call him a pathetic, desperate, horny dog or something like that as the man's (purposefully) sloppily thrusting in and out of him, causing the most "carnage" he can (Wilbur will be double fisting Quackity and Quackity will be just looking at him unfazed like "your hands are small" (they're not)/hj)

Oh btw to clarify [TW ok more direct talk of SA so please be careful and take care of yourselves]- yes, I'm absolutely saying Q got repeatedly SA'd by Schlatt throughout their relationship. The guy was canonically generally verbally and physically abusive, AND basically the whole point of his character is that he's like, the epitome of everything wrong with society. Add to that the sexual comments which were constantly used to demean, insult, and objectify Q, as well as Quackity's intense, palpitable discomfort which noticeably grows each time the topic comes up when they meet after Schlatt's death during Las Nevdas era, it's a pretty safe bet to assume Schlatt didn't stop at "just" verbal and physical violence. Sexual violence is almost a guarantee when you consider all that context - it's hardly even "reading between the lines". And you can't tell me that in our society that views being penetrated during sex as something negative, especially for men, while viewing penetrating someone as an act of "conquering" and "winning" and all that a character who's supposed to embody as many of this world's faults as possible wouldn't shove his dick where it's not wanted, even just purely to prove he can despite lack of consent.

[stormblessed95]

Hello Storm,

where is the ending line between "good" shipping and "bad" shipping?

I'm talking about fictional characters AND real persons from various media and genres ,canon and non-canon.

As a BL fan and mostly a fanfic reader for almost 15+ years (!), four years ago Jikook became my first rps couple and I decided it will be definitely the LAST .

Some limits and boundaries around BTS' shipping community got crossed several times with poor taste and insane thoughts .

So now I started to questioning things ..for example, maybe it's better to go back to canon BL-media, leave the members alone and focusing - only musically speaking - to the group ?

Going cold turkey on Ao3 ? Avoiding shipping AND supporting spaces in general?

Too many questions and I admit I'm a overthinker, but after the Tkk french book maybe is really getting out of control for everyone.

Hello my love! As a very avid shipper since a very young age, who before Jikook, doesn't really engage in RPS spaces either, I 1000% get what you mean. So here is where I'm going to link you to a bunch of different posts I've made before that cover this topic. Will you come back and let me know if they helped or not? 💜

This post covers the question what is shipping culture in kpop

This post is about the question, what are ship wars?

This post is I think where I draw that line of what is good shipping (supporting Jikook as individuals and potentially queer ones at that) and bad shipping.

Dealing with rumors about RPS ships by shippers post here

Respecting Privacy Post here

And here is my post where I talk about fanfiction in real person ships. You'll notice the tkkr hate book is an example that falls directly under my "things not to do and cross lines and aren't okay" paragraph. Lol

In the end, do whatever you are most comfortable with. Outside of my blog and a few others, I do not engage with a ton of RPS fics. I read some that are sent to me from friends I trust to engage in that stuff nicely and correctly and that's basically it. I've gotten a few recs from here also and only read the ones that sounded like I would be comfortable with. In fandom spaces, you have to interact with them in whatever way works best for you personally. And if you can quit ao3 cold turkey, I would so shocked and impressed 😂 I could never. I have 10 ao3 tabs open right now lmfao

Hope those posts help 💜💜💜

[tarlos-spain]

I'm so excited to start posting this work. I have to say that if it exists is thanks to @fandomtrumpshate and it's thanks to @trickzill-art that decided to ask me for an original work.

So here it is.

Summary: Santi has had the luck of writing a best seller, but now, a year later, seems like he can't come up with anything else. Not until he met Joseph, a young barista with big dreams for the future. Thanks to him, Santi finds new motivation, just like Joseph is reminded of what is really worth fighting for.

Chapter 01

Santiago took the book from the shelf. "The Beat of a Rebel Heart" was the title his publisher had recommended for his first novel. It had seemed stupid, he had tried to come up with his own ideas but none of them had convinced the publisher.

"You've decided to launch yourself on the market under a pseudonym, I think it's perfect." Oliver, his publisher, had told him when they were talking about the promotion of the first novel. "But that also takes away your visibility. You'll never be Santiago Carreras, the young promise of gay young adult novels. If all goes well, your book will have a movie on Netflix or Hulu, but no one will link it to anyone but Berta Carros. Are you sure by the way with that name?"

"It was my grandmother's name, she got me started writing, she read my first stories and told me I had talent, while my father told me I wouldn't get anywhere with words. I owe it all to her."

"Ok, Berta Carros it is, then...I still think we could find something more commercial like Vanesa de la Fuente or something like that."

"It doesn't impress me that you call my book whatever you want." Santiago told him. "But my pen name won't be touched."

The book had been a success. Sales were higher than other books of the same style or so Oliver had told him, after all Santiago didn't care about those kind of numbers; his passion was writing, he had his first book for sale and by the looks of it a huge part of the potential audience for stories about gay teens liked it.

Soon half the bookstores in the city had copies of his book and New York was full of bookstores everywhere. Amazon picked up on the success and sales of the digital version began to climb and not just in English. His book was selling in Spanish, Italian, Portuguese, French and German.

Within months, the name Berta Carros had fan pages on Facebook, Tumblr and one day, Sandra, his best friend, sent him some links to some well-known sites where people were writing fanfiction. They had started writing things with his characters, Robert and Myles.

He put the book back on the shelf, although he moved it to the right place. Someone had put it in the romance section, along with Wild Love at the Ranch and The Executive and the Carpenter.

No one remembered his book anymore, it had been an incredible few months, but it was over as quickly as it had come. A year later, Berta Carros was only remembered by the few remaining fans of his book, those who were waiting for a sequel that Santiago knew would never come and those who wondered when Berta Carros would release his second book for sale.

Oliver, his publisher wondered that too, almost every day now and that day when he heard and noticed the vibration of his phone in his pocket, he realized it was no different.

"O. Talbot" was written on the screen of his phone. He stepped out of the bookstore, took a sharp breath and answered the call.

"Santiago, my boy, how's it going?"

"Oliver you called me yesterday, I assure you my life hasn't changed at all."

"Hmmm, I'm not going to say I like hearing that, but tell me you're still writing."

"I'm still writing, yes, but I can't confirm to you that I have Berta's next book in hand."

"Do you know when that will be?"

"Oliver, you ask me that same question every day and you know what the answer is.”

"Yeah, yeah. You don't function well under pressure, but Santiago, a year ago you decided to enter the world of literature and as romantic as writers' lives may have seemed in the past, we all have a deadline now, I as an editor have a minimum number of books to submit to those at the top and for that, you writers have to submit your manscripts to me. It's a chain that has to work perfectly."

"I know and I'm sorry. I'm trying to come up with the perfect story. I don't want to write something mediocre or...."

"Santiago, boy." He hated it when Oliver or anyone else called him that, with that tone of superiority. "We're talking about books that sell to teenagers and adult women who..."

"Oliver. I wrote my first book to tell my own story of that teenage boy who does coming out, who stands up to his parents, who shows them who he really is, and who falls in love."

"Yeah, yeah, it was a very nice and sentimental book, I won't deny it." Oliver said and then there was silence. Santiago figured he was looking for the best words not to bother him anymore and not gamble that he would go to another publisher with his new book, when he had it written. "What I wanted to say is that I'm not asking you to write the new Divine Comedy, it doesn't even have to be a book as special as your first novel. I just need Berta Carros to have a new book on the market for the Christmas campaign, do you think that would be possible?"

"Well, it's nine months."

"Exactly it's like a pregnancy, it's going to be our baby, Santiago, boy."

Santiago felt like cutting the call short when he heard that. Oliver Talbot wasn't his favorite person in the world, but he was the one who had put his trust in him with his first book. He owed him that much.

"I guess I can make an effort and get something out."

"Would you have a general idea for the day after tomorrow?"

"The day after tomorrow?" Santiago asked, stopped in the middle of the street and stared at nothing. "Well, I guess I can get a couple of days out and we can discuss them."

"Great! That was precisely what I wanted to hear. Talk to you in two days."

Oliver cut the call short almost before Santiago could say goodbye.

After the call he needed a coffee, a large one just the way he liked it, with cream, cinnamon, lots of vanilla and chocolate chips. He was not far from his favorite coffee shop, the place where he had found much of the inspiration to write his first novel.

He was sure that there he could find what he needed to get his second book off the ground.

But first he needed a coffee.

It was almost noon when he entered. In the mornings and especially on weekends, the Finca del café was a busy place because of the number of cyclists, teams, families and friends who passed by for breakfast. But at noon like now, the café was usually emptier and quieter, the perfect place to sit with his computer next to the coffee he so desperately needed.

He didn't have to look at the coffee list, he didn't need to in order to make his exact request. He walked up to the counter, he knew all the baristas that worked there. Connor usually took note of what he wanted and often didn't even ask him what he wanted because he already knew them.

"What can I get you?" said an unfamiliar voice that made him look up.

A pair of green eyes, a luminous smile and slightly tousled light brown hair completed him over a tag with Joseph's name buttoned to the shirt.

The barista was new, or at least, he had never seen him before. He would certainly remember him, because he was the most handsome man Santiago had seen in a long time.

"Chocolate mocha, not too hot."

"To go?"

"No, I'll take it here, I usually spend a lot of mornings here, working."

"Oh," Joseph picked up one of the cups and a marker, with an even wider smile on his lips. "That sounds like you're a big shot. Writer looking for inspiration for his next book? Have you written anything I might have read?"

"I had a book out last year. It had some success, but I don't think you know it. Plus I wrote it under a pseudonym."

"I read a little bit of everything. Come on, test me, maybe I’m making your coffee and I’m a fan of yours, even if I don’t know it."

Santiago reacted with a nervous chuckle at the barita's charming laugh.

"I don't think so, but okay. "The beat of a rebellious heart."

Joseph was filling the coffee cup with the milk and then the foam, but stopped short and looked up to Santiago and stared at him like someone looking at an impossible apparition of a ghost.

"You're not serious." Joseph sentenced. "You haven't written that book, because "The Beat of a Rebel Heart" is written by a woman, Berta Carros and I can't wait for her to write her next book."

"That's a long way off because Berta doesn't even have an idea for her next novel."

Joseph opened his mouth, but closed it and gasped again like a fish sticking its head out of the water. He stood there, staring at Santiago as his boss tried to get his attention from the other end of the bar.

"Wait, you are serious. You wrote 'The Beat of a Rebel Heart'. You're Berta Carros."

Santiago put a finger to his lips. He hated having used that name, hated having had that stupid idea to create the pseudonym for himself. At first he hadn't been proud to write a novel for teenagers, no matter how much it was a story of two boys falling in love and then it had caught the critics' attention because of the realism Berta had demonstrated. By then, Berta Carros had made a name for herself with her first book and Oliver Talbot had thought it a good idea to keep her there and use the same pseudonym on subsequent books.

Joseph set the cup of coffee in front of him, one twice as big as he had ordered and as he was about to say something to the barista, the barista put a finger to his lips smiling.

"I've already told you that you're my favorite author. It's a gift."

Santiago accepted it as Joseph went to make the next coffee, retired to his usual table, put down his coffee, pulled out his computer and headphones, put his cell phone on charge and took a seat.

He stood there for a moment watching the barista work, talking to his colleagues, laughing, being charming to the customers and not noticing that there were two girls in line waiting to be served by him, amidst the silly giggles at how much they liked the barista.

He opened the computer and looked at the blank page of the blank document he had not yet started working on. He took a deep breath, he had been having small panic attacks for days at the thought of trying to write something for his new story.

And suddenly, the image of Joseph about ten years younger appeared in front of him, as if from a movie. Teenage Joseph, full of dreams, wanting to be... Joseph wanted to help everyone, in high school wanting to make everyone around him happy. That Joseph wanted to be a doctor... no, a veterinarian.

Little by little his new protagonist began to take the shape of the green-eyed barista with the perfect, radiant smile in front of him.

"A latte and a chai tea, please." Said a woman in a suit to Joseph as she gestured towards the table where her partner was seated.

"Good morning Susan, are you setting up a meeting with the folks in New York?"

The woman gave him an uncomfortable look because the barista was talking to her beyond too hot or not hot enough that she wanted coffee. She nodded nervously and paid to walk away to the end of the bar where her order was to be delivered.

"Why do you keep trying?" Amara leaned on the counter next to Joseph and rubbed his back. "People don't want to talk about their private lives with you. You're not their friend and they don't expect your advice over coffee, unless it’s about the perfect cookies to take away."

"But it's so cold, Mar. When I imagined myself working here behind the bar, I imagined I knew the people, many would be the same every day at the same time and that would gradually give us some familiarity."

"You've seen a lot of movies, haven't you?"

"It's not that. It's my dream, that's the kind of coffee shop I want to work in, the one I want to have."

Amara laughed and patted him on the back a couple of times. "So now you want to have your own coffee shop, and where are you supposed to get the money for that?"

Joseph sighed and went on with his work, there were already several glasses and cups to clean on the pike and tables to tidy up.

Most people didn't understand how he could really like that job. Everyone thought that if someone started working as a barista it was because they were waiting for their life's work, because they were studying, because they came from another city, and if it was someone young enough it was because they had left home or it was their first job.

But none of those possibilities fit Joseph.

Joseph was happy there. He was happy getting up early to open and serve the first coffees as winter dawned, discovering the new items that were invited from the central office for each season and was extremely happy drinking pumpkin spice at Halloween until the Christmas coffees arrived.

He loves coffee, and had managed to squeeze a couple of his own recipes into the cookie section.

Of course his friend was right about one thing. Money was a problem, both to study something related to the world of coffee and to open his own place someday.

But he had time and was saving. Everything he earned working there was going to two places, the rent for the apartment he shared with the fireman in 252 who he barely saw because they had crossed shifts and for that dream he slept with every night, getting into hotel school to learn everything he needed to learn to one day open his own café and have everyone fall in love with the world he saw.

A grunt from the writer's table caught his attention. He saw him sigh and close the computer then turn back to the window.

There was no one waiting to order anything at the counter so Joseph decided to take his morning break. He made his coffee as no one else knew how to do, because no one else understood the amounts of milk, lactose free because he was intolerant, sugar, brown, because it was healthier, cinnamon, you always needed some and cream... any decent coffee should have some in it and walked over to the table.

"Upset?" he asked and Santiago turned to him. "I'm not going to ask for your autograph, relax, but I am looking forward to the release of your second book and I'm dying of curiosity to know if it will be a continuation of "heartbeat" or something new."

Santiago laughed nervously, picked up his now empty coffee cup and wrinkled his nose as he realized it was.

"Shall I make you another?"

"You don't want to see me on a caffeine high and that certainly won't be how I start writing anything. No thanks. As for the new book, I'd like to know what it's going to be, too, although the one who's most curious is my publisher, who's about to fire me if I don't get the first draft to him in a few days."

"Wow, sorry to hear that and sorry then that I'm bothering you at the moment of inspiration."

Santiago let out that nervous laugh again, which this time made Joseph smile because he thought it was charming. He opened the computer again and turned it over.

Prologue

My name is Josh, although here at the hospital I am known as Josh "Dr. White's son." My father is the head of the emergency room at New York Presbyterian Hospital and a dozen doctors and twenty-odd nurses work for him.

They all know me, some of them literally were present at my birth and my father says that the most senior nurse in the hospital was the one who helped me cry for the first time.

As "Dr. White's son" I am free to move around wherever I want, except for the operating rooms, although the truth is that I am not too interested in seeing how they open people up, manipulate their organs and fill everything with blood.

But in the rest of the hospital I can go from one place to another without anyone looking at me funny. They all greet me, ask me about my father when they haven't seen him for a few days and ask me, as usual, if I'm going to follow in Dr. White's footsteps and study medicine.

However, today no one approaches me. Maybe it's because it makes them uncomfortable to see me crying inconsolably and they don't know what to say to me, maybe it's because my clothes are a mess, literally scorched, with a couple of holes from pulling and my hair as if I had fought with a herd of angry cats or maybe it's because they don't like the presence of my companion, Jaime, a wonderful Mexican boy who has gotten me into the best trouble these past few months.

Until recently I wouldn't have realized that there are people who look at you because of the color of your skin, the way you talk or any stupid detail that makes you look like one thing or another. But these last few months have opened my eyes, made me realize that the world I was living in was nothing more than a fantasy.

And you know what is the most ironic thing of all, tomorrow is my birthday, tomorrow I turn eighteen. just a year ago, I had the perfect life, the perfect dream, the perfect idea of the future, not to mention the perfect boyfriend, the perfect father and the perfect house.

If you ask me right now what I mean by perfect, my answer is to see my father walk out of the emergency room with a calm expression and hear him say that the heart of the love of my life has started beating again.

"It's horrible isn't it?" Santiago asked and finally breathed again when Joseph looked up from the computer. "I think I'm going to delete it and start over. I don't think..."

"I hope you don't mean that. You just wrote this?" Santiago's eyes widened in shock at the question. "I mean... I don't think it's little, well yes, it's very little and I love it, I want to know what happened to Josh."

A small smile added to the blush on Santiago's cheeks.

"It's the first thing that came to my mind, which is already saying a lot because I had been in the dry dock of inspiration for almost five months. what is it about this place? Because if it has any secrets, I'll come write here every day."

Joseph shrugged, looked back towards the counter, he didn't want any customers to be left waiting, certainly his manager wouldn’t like that either. But for the moment, Amara seemed to have it under control and motioned for him to take his time.

"You're the first writer I've seen here writing, so I don't know what inspired you. But I do know that many of the customers who come through here have told me that the coffee I make is the best they've ever had."

"I agree with them on that." Santiago looked back at the empty cup. "And for that coffee you make I'd like to come back here every morning."

They stared into each other's eyes for a moment, until a group of teenagers entered the coffee shop. They were on their way to class and were talking loud enough to disrupt the peace and quiet of the place.

Santiago looked at the time. He had decided to take the morning off to find that idea he needed so badly. Now he had it, it was just a written page, but suddenly his brain was overflowing with ideas that he had to put down on paper.

He stood up with force, so much that he almost knocked the chair to the floor.

"I have to go."

Joseph watched him dart out of the cafeteria, computer under his arm and open backpack full of papers, two or three notebooks and a few other things he hadn't gotten to see. He still couldn't believe he had met the author of his favorite book. When he had woken up that morning he had not imagined that Berta Carros was a man, someone so handsome, nice, attractive and that he would not be able to get him out of his mind.

[leafflets]

Hello!! My name is Vincent, though I answer to a bunch of other names like Glen, Sycamore, and Forest. I'm 23 and primarily use hymn/they pronouns. My timezone is EST. I follow from my main, @salsotto .

I've been writing for 10+ years, my first story being a short little thing I wrote when I was about 9. (It was about vampires and werewolves. I read it to my class.) I enjoy writing about mystery, murder, vampires, hot gay (vampire) men, old-timey settings, and more. While my motivation (and writing ability) varies greatly from day to day, I do enjoy it, and I'd love to be able to tell at least one great, captivating story one day.

Other than writing I enjoy games like Genshin Impact, Hades, Limbus Company, and more. I watch anime and read manga. I also draw and you'll probably see art I've done of my ocs around here eventually~

(As an additional note, I'm AuDHD + OCD/OCPD and this... affects my writing ability greatly most days. Oops!)

You can also check out my fanfiction blog @thescarleteyes . (18+/NSFW Warning LOL)

I'm constantly stuck in wip hell. Most of them I haven't actually started, because my ADHD doesn't let me hyperfocus on them. Why focus on your stories when you can hyperfocus on a game and stay up till 10am? That being said, I have 3 main ones I'm focusing on, as well as 3 that are on an indefinite hiatus (due to being stories I wrote in middle and high school...) They are as follows:

"Trained Mystery" - One quiet day, an English professor receives a hand-penned letter telling him they'll tell him answers to things he's never known about himself if he boards a renowned, luxurious steam train; but when someone aboard the train is killed, he's thrust into the role of having to solve the mystery before him - one that's not himself.

Journal of a Fallen Angel - A once-illustrious angel tells the stories of the lives of humans he finds intriguing, no matter what the cost to study them may be.

Penned in Claret - Stuck in a spot where his job is at stake, an overworked journalist Ronan Harwick tries to find himself the juiciest next scoop to save his job; but when he tracks down a hot guy from the bar for a story, he finds his life on the line in a world he only ever saw in his dreams.

A Tale Once Told - Ifnie Dracon, a shadow demon, has been tasked to watch over a teenager named Rynn. Not knowing what he's in for, he comes to the mortal plane once again. But after connecting with other supernatural beings like himself, they are warned of a danger that may threaten life as it is. Will him and his friends be able to ward off such a danger?

ABOUT PAGE

The Realm of Valvar - Elvanna Tiolu's father has been missing ever since she was a child. Even with people trying to get her to believe that he is dead, she has dedicated her life to training to enter the Battle and defeat the Champion - and save her father, who was last seen entering the Battle himself. Join Elvanna and her rag-tag team of "heroes" as they uncover the truth about her father and possibly - hopefully - find him alive.

ABOUT PAGE

Blood Rebellion - Hidden away in a small settlement full of people, sentient doll Lyra helps those in need as she tries to ignore her bloody past; but when her new brother stirs the pot once more, she decides to go on the hunt for revenge against the one who made her. (Originally a webcomic!)

[drblood-bringer-of-death]

Yay! Another Tyrian x Watts fanfiction for Nuts and Volts week! Seriously I cant get enough of these guys! Anyway, hope everyone over at @nutsandvoltsweek enjoys it!

Waltzing into love

Warnings: literally just some mild cursing.

They hated it. Every single second of being stuck in the stuffy, crowded room full of pompous, rich assholes. Arthur glared at anyone unfortunate enough to make eye contact with him and he stayed as far away from the dance floor as possible. He hated parties as much as he hated people. He would much rather be back in the grimm lands, tinkering away at his inventions without a single interruption. But he was not the only one who hated being there. As grand and beautiful as Atlesian parties were, they had a very strict policy to them. No Faunus, No improper dress, and absolutely No exceptions. Tyrian, as sporadic and chaotic as the man was, unfortunately was the best fit to go with Arthur to this party. Salem decided that Hazel would be too intimidating, Emerald and Mercury were too young,  and Cinder would have stuck out like a sore thumb. So Tyrian was voluntold to attend as Arthur's date. He sulked even more than Arthur did. He might have even hated it more than the mustached man. Due to the strict policy, Tyrian had to wear what he considered "constrictive" clothing. And worst of all he couldn't even use his tail! Arthur had insisted he hide it, since it was against the rules. Tyrian fought him on it, to no avail as he knew Arthur was right. So the two brooded in their fancy clothing in a corner of the ballroom. They avoided everyone and if it wasn't for Arthur's accursed reputation he would have never even attended this godforsaken party. Maybe he could figure out some way to fake his death or even actually die just to avoid these parties.

"This is pointless!" Tyrian growled.

"It's not entirely pointless, but it's Incredibly dull." Arthur retorted, focusing all his attention on his scroll.

"Why did I have to come here?! I hate this! I feel like I'm restricting all my natural instincts!" Tyrian continued to complain as he pulled on the dark purple tie around his neck.

"Stop pulling at that you'll undo it! And you know why she chose you to come with me. And stop tugging on the tie!" Arthur said angrily as he turned towards Tyrian, who had managed to actually undo his tie. "How did you even? Ugh just let me fix it!" Arthur swatted away Tyrians hands and grabbed ahold of the tie. Fastening it once again.

"Ahem, am I interrupting anything?" The unwanted and annoying voice of Jaques Schnee broke through Arthurs grumbling. His brow twitched in annoyance and he sighed before facing the unbearable aristocrat.

"Why Jaques, what a pleasure to see you again." Arthur lied through his teeth.

"A pleasure as well. Who, may I ask, are you?" He directed the question towards Tyrian who stiffened as a response.

"Uh, Tyrian Callows, associate of Watts here." He shook the older man's hand in forced politeness.

"Well it's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Callows. I had no idea Arthur was into such… interesting company." His tone of voice and the way he glanced at Arthur smugly,  clearly portrayed that he suspected something else. "why I'd even say you might be planning something… more forbidding." Tyrian pailed, could he really figure them out that easily? He looked at Arthur and they shared a panicked look.

"Jaques if you're suggesting-" Arthur started to accuse him but Jaques cut him off.

"Oh come now Arthur, you know i wouldn't care if you were gay, it's quite common nowadays, and I've been suspecting it for a while anyway-" Watts and Tyrians faces went bright red. "I was simply baffled that you managed to find someone to deal with your arrogance." He finished.

"I-my arrogance- excuse me?!" Arthur said offhandedly. Jaques only laughed at him.

"Relax, you know that the General himself is gay right? Really it doesn't matter here, why not show some affection! Have a dance or two! There's nothing to hide." And before Arthur, pr even Tyrian for that matter, could stutter out a response Jaques turned on his heels and walked away smirking.

"Does he think-? I mean really?" Tyrian asked before bursting into uncontrollable laughter. His entire body shook with each inhale of breath. As he laughed and laughed Arthur's face grew more and more red, out of both embarrassment and anger.

"You shut up!" He snapped at Tyrian. Whose laughter seemed never ending. Making Arthurs anger grow.

"Re- hehehe- relax Arthur. Haha, as far as we know, this could be an advantage." Tyrian offered through dying giggles.

"What do you mean?" Arthurs anger sizzled but he stopped feeling the innate need to punch the Faunus. Tyrian wiped a tear from his eye.

"Well think about it. You could gain some massive publicity points if you came out as gay, and if we did it here it would be massively successful. All we have to do is dance a little bit and maybe hold hands. People will come to the conclusion on their own and it'll be all over the news tomorrow. "Infamous inventor Arthur Watts supporting his community through love!" Can you imagine that?" Arthur paused.

Unhinged, deranged, murderous, insane… and intelligent. Those are the words Arthur would use to describe Tyrian right now. As unpredictable as the man is, he could read people and play off them better than even Salem herself.

"That… could work." Arthur poundered. The plan was foolproof, and even if it went wrong then it would cause protests in the communities drawing grimm in. "Yes. It would work quite well." Arthur hummed to himself and Tyrian smirked.

"Well then let's get to it and put on a show!" He cheered in a manic giggle as he pulled Arthur away from their protective corner and into the center of the dancefloor. Arthur huffed behind him, not expecting the pull. Although he should really expect everything from Tyrian.

"I told you to relax already Arthur! All we need to do is dance a bit and act all coupley." Tyrian smirked again and Arthur got some sort of primal feeling in his gut to run. As if something far more sinister than even they had planned was happening. But he ignored it, it was not the first, or last, time he would have that feeling while with the scorpion.

"It's Impossible to relax with you" he retorted harshly, shifting himself and Tyrian into a waltzing position. Slowly the music ran through the room and the many people around them began to move to the three step beat.

"Your words wound me Arthur," Tyrian mocked. "I'm the most relaxing person I know! Well besides Hazel." He held back a giggle.

"Your a caffeinated maniac trapped inside a padded room. I absolutely do not find you relaxing!" Arthur all but growled.

"A bit touchy aren't you? Was it something that Mr. Schnee said that caught your nerves?" He smirked wildly at Arthur who tried his best to keep his composure. As he tried to calm his breathing Tyrians insane smile reached his eyes. "Oh my, your heart rate picked up! I must be onto something!" Arthur started to panic.

"You did not- wait you can sense my heart rate? No, nevermind that!" He attempted to gather his thoughts as he and Tyrian glided across the ballroom floor, sliding in time with everyone around them. If you weren't right next to the pair it would be like they were just enjoying themselves and not having a frantic argument.

"Poor Arthur Watts, not admitting that old Mr. Schnee was right! What an exciting evening this has become!" Tyrians giggles seemed to pour out of his mouth.

"Would you just shut up! I've already said that to you tonight, you psychopath! Now stop talking and lets finish this stupid dance!" Arthur was pissed off now, he couldn't stand looking at Tyrians pretty eyes or his handsome face any longer. So he decided to do something about it. As the song approached it's climax he brought Tyrian into a sudden spin, catching the scorpion off guard. As he pulled Tyrian back into him, he made up his mind. Placing one foot behind Tyrians and throwing his center of balance off, he dipped the younger man. He heard people around them gasp, some of them seemed shocked, but through all the noise he heard two distinct things. One: Jaques Schnee saying " I called it!", and two, Tyrian Callows' sharp inhale of breath. He pulled them back up. Releasing Tyrians lips as he did, and then he turned and walked out of the room.

Tyrian stumbled, that was not expected at all. He knew Arthur was gay but he never dared to dream that Arthur liked him. He got over the shock, more delayed than he'd like, but nevertheless he rushed after Arthur and found the man pacing an empty hallway.

"Why did I do that? What was the logic of that? It was pointless, im pointless. For fucks sake we're both adults why couldn't I just talk to him!?" Arthur mutters to himself as he paced, not even noticing that Tyrian was right next to him. "Damnit, that was so stupid! Why is he so handsomely intimidating? What can't I just be normal-"

"Because you're Arthur Watts, inventor and doctor, smarter than anyone else i know and absolutely hopelessly in love with me" Tyrian interrupted, his voice caught Arthur off guard and he would never admit how much that genuinely scared him.

"Ty- Tyrian look, what I-" he was cut off as said man lunged at him suddenly, crowding his precious space.

"Just shut up and kiss me again" the scorpion demanded as he rolled his eyes and pulled Arthur into him. Their lips crashed together again, yet the feeling was different. Before Arthur could barely feel the kiss at all, but now he felt like sparks were flying down his spine and static was invading his mind. Arthur let himself fall mentally, his brilliant mind failing him when he needed it most, so he just let it happen. Let his body do the talking for once.

Tyrian on the other hand was practically shaking with joy, he had a crush on the doctor for a while now but he truly never believed Arthur would like him back, let alone make the first move! He could not be happier even if his own goddess showed up just then! He felt as if nothing could ruin this sweet moment of love. And he was right, not a soul came out of the party to find them and they were left alone in the hallway. As Tyrian let go of Arthur he smiled. Not a crazed, classic Tyrian smile, but a calm, genuine one. Arthur felt his heart skip more than one beat, and he was sure Tyrian felt it too. Soon enough Tyrians soft laughter bubbled out of his mouth.

"What's so funny?" Arthur asked, his usual scoff lightened just a touch.

"Well the fact that we literally waltzed into love." Arthur's eyes rolled.

"That was cheesy." He huffed as he set his head on Tyrians shoulder.

"No, parmesan is cheesy." Arthur sighed. The moment was ruined by the man who created it. And he could not help the small smile that was hidden by his mustache. Maybe tonight was worth the party.