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[cassiebones]

Drama Club AU (planning stage)

Okay, so I'm gonna go ahead with the High School Drama Club AU for Agathario/Vidarkness. This will not disrupt Suburban Magic if I can help it.

some notes:

Agatha is the diva. She wants to be an actress, so she puts her entire being into her performances, including the auditions. She's played some sort of principle character in every play since middle school. Her mother doesn't support this dream and refuses to see her plays, so Agatha has stopped even inviting her or asking for rides home after rehearsals. She walks home in the dark.

Rio Vidal is a techie. She has kind of had a crush on Agatha since elementary school, but has been too nervous to tell her about it. They're kind of friends because they're in the same club. She has no real interest in theatre or background design, but she joined the club to be part of Agatha's friend group. She even started taking the Drama Class in their senior year so that she could continue to be near Agatha, but she's having a hard time coming out of her shell, which makes her grades suffer. She asks Agatha for help and Agatha gets a thrill out of helping a 'lesser actress' improve her skills. She also kind of finds Rio appealing, in a creepy, goth-adjacent type of way. So she's happy to help. Lilia, their drama teacher, sees the girls getting closer and smiling shyly at each other, and hatches a plan.

Lilia is the Drama teacher. She is also the director of the drama club, putting on the shows and all that. Rio and Agatha are in her drama class (as well as showboat Jen) and Rio is just not doing well, despite all of Agatha's help. She likes Rio, though. The girl is scary, but, beneath her aloof demeanor, she obviously cares a lot. Especially about Agatha and her interests. So she assigns an "extra credit" to her class, attempting to get more people to audition for the play (a lot of the kids in her class are just taking it for the art credit) but she specifically suggests this to Rio, who is not doing well in her class. Rio begrudgingly accepts, asking Agatha's help to prepare a monologue for her audition.

Jen is the showboat. She and Agatha have had a kind of rivalry going since second grade, when Agatha gave Jen a water bottle that was infected with the flu so that Agatha could take her lead role in The Wizard of Oz on opening night. Jen has never forgiven her for that though Agatha insists she didn't know it was infected. She had just accidentally given her the wrong water bottle. They've been in competition ever since. Jen is also dating Alice, the techie in charge of music direction.

Alice is another techie. Her mom is a famous pop star, so Alice knows how to play a lot of music and also how to compose her own. She organizes the orchestra for Lilia's shows. She is also a senior and got early acceptance to Juilliard for music. She is openly gay and dating Jen, who is a little more subdued about her bisexuality. But they hold hands in the hall and kiss in the theater, where they've among like-minded individuals. Alice teases Rio about her obvious crush on Agatha. Rio bites back at this, but Alice is kind of her best friend besides Agatha, so she doesn't fight back too hard.

Billy is the freshman. He joins the club in his first year of high school and immediately attaches himself to Agatha, who he's seen lead all the school plays since he was a little kid, just getting interested in theater. Agatha acts like she's annoyed, but she honestly likes having a fan. Billy tags along with them at lunch and they call him their pet (because Rio once called him mascota and he asked what that meant [pet] so it stuck) and teach him important acting tricks. He is one of few boys in Drama, so he's almost a shoo-in for a speaking role, no matter how inexperienced he is. He is dating Eddie, a techie.

The spring musical is coming up and Agatha is desperate for the lead. It's her last play and chance to win against Jen in their ridiculous, long-held feud (she can admit it's ridiculous while also wanting to best Jen, it's not weird), and she just needs to win it. She's also helping Rio with her extra credit monologue and the audition sides. They practice in the library or one of the student study rooms, Agatha instructing Rio how to say her lines, how to believe them, telling her to think of things that evoke those emotions. Rio gets decently good at it.

At the audition, everybody brings their A-game. Agatha does, in fact, get cast as the lead. Jen gets the villain character (which is okay by her, because it makes her and Agatha antagonists). Billy gets a secondary speaking role, but it's more than he'd really hoped for. And Rio gets....the romantic lead opposite Agatha. Rio is taken aback by this, sure that she wouldn't get casted at all because it was just supposed to be for extra credit, but Lilia just smiles and says she must have had a great teacher because she can't imagine not casting Rio with how much chemistry she and Agatha showed on stage. This, of course, was a setup. Lilia cackles to herself about it when she's alone in her office.

Mrs. Davis (prev. Mrs. Hart before her husband passed and she went back to her maiden name, but Agatha cannot remember that to save her life) is the school principal. She loves the theater and spends most of her lunch breaks coming to watch the kids practice their lines for the plays and their class assignments, sitting and laughing with Lilia about little things. Lilia and Sharon might have a little thing going, but it's inappropriate because Sharon is literally her boss. But she knows exactly what Lilia is doing with Agatha and Rio and quietly supports it because at least it's keeping them out of trouble and keeping Agatha and Jen from tearing each other limb from limb. She's an "ally" (but not so much as an ally as a part of that community).

Somebody tell me a good play for them to put on. I'm considering Wicked because I love it so much, with Agatha as Elphaba, Rio as Fiyero, Jen as Madam Morrible, and Billy as Boch, and maaayyyybeeee Wanda as Galinda/Glinda, but idk. Is that too on the nose?

I need thoughts (and prayers) please!

[aidaronan]

The years go by. The retail jobs that Steve thinks are temporary keep piling up, but he has no idea what else to do with his life so he just keeps on keeping on.

Until a large tree falls on the lawn of the little house he managed to buy and he gets the quote on removal and the number literally hurts his soul.

He buys a small chainsaw instead. Over the course of a few weeks, he gets most of the branches cut up. He collects some large rocks from down by the quarry and digs out a fire pit in his backyard. On his days off, his friends come over and they sit out back and have a few beers. The pile of wood dwindles. The giant trunk is another story though. His chainsaw isn't big enough for it. Burning it would take forever, and Steve's terrified he'd disappoint Smoky the Bear. He's at a loss.

Until he sees another giant trunk in someone's yard carved into a bear.

He knows what to do then. Not a bear, but something else. Through trial and error, the trunk becomes the rough shape of a woman, the remnants of the branches like a crown on her head. It's not as amazing as the bear he saw, but it's his. He finds he loves the smell of sawdust and the feeling of creating something.

Just like that, Steve realizes what he wants to do. It takes several months and a lot of yard sales, but he scrounges up the tools he needs to start woodworking. He learns to measure twice and cut once. He makes tables and chairs and carves them with art and designs that get better and better the more he learns. Shockingly, people actually buy his pieces.

Even more shocking comes the realization that he's making enough money to do it full time. He puts in his two weeks notice at Melvald's and hands in his assistant manager badge.

He's not sure he's happy, but he is content. It feels good to work hard and actually have things to show for it. It also feels good to work muscles he hasn't used since high school. He carries on for a few years like that, creating and learning and creating some more. Then Eddie Munson blows back into town. Invited back so Hawkins can have their most famous alumnus sing the national anthem at homecoming. Steve's honestly surprised he shows at all. "Can't believe you didn't tell them kiss your hairy ass," Steve says. Because of course Eddie ends up around his fire pit, sipping on Steve's cheap beer like he doesn't have three Grammy awards on his mantel. The years fall away with each drink, reminding Steve of just how much it had hurt when Eddie left. He'd wanted Eddie so bad back then, more than he'd ever wanted anyone. He can feel the echoes of that deep ache across time.

"Pfft. Don't you know all famous people wax our asses now? All the rage in LA." Eddie cuts a look at him and smirks when Steve rolls his eyes, grateful for the lighthearted moment to snap him out of his maudlin nostalgia. "Really though I thought about it, but then I thought it would be way funnier to donate a metric fuckton of money to Hawkins High with the stipulation that it go to the theater and band programs. Kind of bummed they couldn't honor my other request though."

"Which was?"

"My old Hellfire throne. I miss her, but apparently she's not around anymore. Something about water damage."

"Oh yeah. Water main busted a few years back and flooded the theater. I remember that." "Yeah. Had to settle for the promise they'd make a game lounge and stock it with all the supplies a budding young nerd needs."

"That's really nice, Eds."

Eddie shrugs. "I've been known to be nice on occasion. You'll come to homecoming, right? Moral support?"

Steve hasn't been to homecoming in years because he sees the other people who stayed in town all the time, and he has no interest in seeing the people who didn't. He can only answer the same questions so many times. Oh, I'm doing woodwork now. Yep, I still live right here. Nope, still not married, no kids.

He goes though, and he answers the uncomfortable questions. Because Eddie asked him to. Because no matter how long it's been, Steve can't deny that some part of him still...

He says goodbye after, and Eddie leaves again, and Steve tries not to think about that too much in the following days.

He's halfway into the project before he realizes what he's building. He'd seen Eddie's throne quite a few times back when. What he doesn't have memories of, he makes up. He adds his own touches too, making it a throne fit for a rock star, a nerd, a friend.

He carves ornate patterns, he creates scenes of dragons being beaten back by a man with a guitar, crowds of people that could be knights or concertgoers.

It's his favorite piece he's ever done, and his hands are shaking when he dials Eddie's number. He gets an answering machine and stumbles through a message.

"I made you something. I guess it's kind of silly, but it's here in Hawkins if you want it. Or I'm sure you can afford the shipping if you don't want to come. Just, I made you a chair. It's more of a... Well, you'll see. Unless you don't want to... It's Steve by the way." He hangs up before he can embarrass himself even more.

Eddie doesn't call him back. One day passes and then another. Steve tries not to let it get to him. He works on orders and new projects. He enjoys his little backyard oasis. He rents a few movies and thinks they're okay.

He's debarking some wood in his driveway when the rental car pulls up, Eddie stepping out in ripped jeans and an old Metallica tee. "Hi again, Stevie."

"Oh." Steve clears his throat. "The thing's in the garage. I'll..."

Eddie doesn't say anything for a long time, circling the throne, running his tattooed fingers over each little detail.

"You made this whole thing?"

"I did."

"For me?" Eddie looks at him then, one hand still touching the wood like he doesn't want to let go. Even under the harsh lights of the garage, his eyes are such a warm shade of brown that Steve forgets to breathe.

He nods. "For you."

"Why?"

There are a hundred answers Steve could give, but he spent so long not knowing who he was or who he wanted to be. Too long. "Because you'll always be the one that got away. Because some part of me will always want to make you smile no matter how long it's been."

Eddie falls into the throne like he just got the wind knocked out of him.

"You don't have to respond to that," Steve says. "You can just say thank you and take the chair."

"I can." Eddie blows out a breath. "But that would be incredibly stupid considering half my early ballads are about you."

"What?" Unfair. Steve doesn't have a chair to fall into.

"Oh sure, I changed the hes to shes for a while there because..." Eddie waves his hand. "But they're about you, Steve. God, I should've asked you out. I just thought..."

Hearing those words is a lot like seeing that carved bear all over again, something clicking into place that wasn't quite right before.

"Go out with me now then," Steve says. "Or stay in. I've got a frozen lasagna and I rented Contact."

"Steve Harrington? Asking Eddie 'the Freak' Munson on a date? Did hell freeze over?"

"Pfft." Steve takes a step closer toward what he wants most. "Hell froze over in 1986, Eddie. You were there."

Five months and a lot of long distance phone bills later, Steve opens Harrington Woodworking in Los Angeles. That same day, Eddie takes photos for Rolling Stone posing in an ornate throne in his living room. He tells the reporter exactly who made it and what he means. At concerts, he starts singing those ballads the way he always wanted to. More often than not, Steve stands in the wings singing along.

[hellfirenacht]

Wing Man Bonus Story: Next October

This is a non-canon blurb for Wing Man. It’s non-canon because it gives Reader a specific birthday month. This was written for me and for @sheneedsrocknroll92 as we are actually twins with the same October birthday, ignore the gap year between us. 

You don’t need to know much about Wing Man to enjoy this, but you should read it anyway because it’s a finished 86k word Reader/Eddie fic and don’t you want to read a finished fic that long? Yes. Yes you do. (You also want to leave comments on all the fics you read when you enjoy them, js)

Anyway, say Happy Birthday to both of us. Also, sorry this is a few days late lol

1.8K Words

Plot: It’s your birthday, and you’re drowning in work. Thankfully, you have an amazing boyfriend to help you relax.

Tags: Eddie Munson x Reader, established relationship, fluff, overuse of the word slut (affectionate)

You loved your job, really. Most nights you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. You got to spin and talk about almost anything that you wanted, play music you enjoyed, and even spend the occasional commercial break with your amazing boyfriend when he stayed late at the studio. 

But there were only so many hours in the day. Your nights from midnight to 6 am were spent on air. Your mornings were chores and errands while everything was still open, followed by sleeping until dusk where you’d wake up and would head to work so early to spend some time with Eddie at the recording studio, or at one of his gigs, or do any other number of things around the studio. 

It didn’t even occur to you that it was almost your birthday. You had been so wrapped up in your own work and helping Eddie and Corroded Coffin that it wasn’t until you saw Halloween decorations being put up around the studio that you realized that October was right around the corner, which meant that it was also almost your birthday. 

It was a bittersweet seeing the decorations. It felt like only a few weeks ago that you had decorated Family Video with decorations you paid for out of your own pocket. Shit, that meant it had been about a year since you and Steve had made the little deal that had led you to where you are today. 

You should drop by and see him soon. 

Even though you and Eddie had started living together months ago, it still felt rare that you got to see him outside of work. Corroded Coffin was doing better than anyone (except you) could have expected. That meant lots of rehearsals, gigs, talking to local publications for interviews, and being awake when you were asleep. You were really starting to miss him. 

It was the morning of your birthday, and you stepped out of the old theater-turned-studio into the cool October air. There was a golden shine on everything as the sun peeked over the horizon, and the air felt crisp and cool but not uncomfortably so. 

I'm so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers. That quote floated through your mind as you got in your car. 

Even though it was your birthday, there were still things to be done. You grabbed your half of the rent, picked up some deodorant and toothpaste and the largest bottle of conditioner you could find for Eddie. You stood in the cereal aisle staring at the colorful boxes, allowing yourself the moment to pick out one that was appropriately themed for the month and that you and Eddie would both enjoy, and finally made it back home. 

Eddie wasn’t home when you got back to your apartment, it wasn’t unusual. You might have had set hours, but Eddie’s schedule was all over the place. Ever the life of an indie metal star. 

You put away your groceries and made your way to the closet where you kept all of the halloween decorations. You managed to pull out two boxes and open one before you hit the wall. These days of going non-stop were starting to catch up to you, and you found yourself just staring at the box as you sat on the couch for an undisclosed amount of time. 

Yeah, you needed sleep. 

It was damn near a miracle that your birthday lined up with your next few days off. You could sleep for a few hours, wake up, decorate and then figure out where the hell your boyfriend was. Most days you two would be at the studio together, but there were some days where Paige had him off doing something else with the band. 

You weren’t jealous that Paige was Eddie’s ex. You were jealous that she got to see him more than you did lately. You trusted him completely, but you really missed having a normal schedule with him. 

You found yourself crawling into his side of the bed and nuzzling into his pillow. Sometimes it was nice to have the bed to yourself, but there were mornings like this when you wished that he was here and you two could just talk nonsense until you fell asleep. 

Just a few hours of sleep and then you’d get back to work...

You felt something nudge you, and your eyes opened just slightly. There was something, no someone, in front of you. You hoped it was Eddie. It probably was. He said something. You mumbled something nonsensical in return and closed your eyes again. 

There was another nudge and this time you could only lift your hand slightly and let it flop down like a dead fish. 

It was quiet for a long while after that. You finally opened your eyes and saw... nothing. Shit, you slept longer than you meant to. If it was this dark then that meant that it was night time now and Eddie was probably already at the studio again doing who-knows-what.

You peeled yourself off the bed and sat there, trying to reorient yourself. You loved your job, but the sleep schedule had been hard to manage, especially as the days grew shorter and you saw the sun less during the day. 

After counting to three, you pushed yourself off the bed. You’d make yourself something to eat, and probably spend all night watching Halloween movies until Eddie came home. 

When you stepped out of the bedroom, you heard music. Your eyes adjusted to the lights that had been turned on and you were soon standing in the living room, stunned. 

Your Halloween decorations had been put up, well most of them. You could smell pizza, and there was a record playing- your favorite one. 

“Morning.” Eddie said as he stepped out of the kitchen and gave you a kiss on the cheek. 

“Eddie you- what are you doing here?” you asked, staring at him as if you couldn’t believe he was really standing in front of you. 

“It’s your birthday?” Eddie said, as if he were the one that was confused now. “I told Paige I’m taking the next few days off.” 

It was your birthday. You had barely remembered your own birthday, and so hadn’t expected Eddie to either. 

“Oh shit, what’s wrong?” Eddie asked in a panic, his eyes going wide. “Did I get the wrong date?”

You shook your head quickly, feeling something wet on your cheek. Oh, you might have been tearing up just slightly. Left Turn Studios had been running you so deep into the ground you hadn’t even realized how exhausted you were. 

“No! No, you didn’t. It’s my birthday.” you said, taking his hand. “I just... I had almost forgotten myself and didn’t expect...”

Eddie squeezed your hand. “I know we’ve been working a lot.” he said. “Paige said things will slow down after Halloween for a while and I’ll have more free time. I just.. I missed you. I know I’m still new to the whole ‘being a boyfriend’ thing, but I wasn’t about to leave you alone on your birthday.” 

You were sat on the couch now, and Eddie pointed at you dramatically. “Hear me now” he pointed at you. “For tonight, I am at your complete command. This humble bard will be your personal jester and do whatever you ask.” 

You broke out into a fit of giggles. “Could you do the dishes?” 

Eddie’s chest puffed up and he gave you a proud smile. “Already done.” 

“Shit, you’re good.” you sighed, starting to feel better already. 

There was a buzzing noise coming from the kitchen and Eddie quickly jumped in. A steaming hot pizza was placed on the coffee table in front of you. “I also have some cupcakes in the fridge.” He explained. “I couldn’t remember if you liked chocolate or vanilla more so I just got both-”

“Keep talking like this and I’m promoting you from jester to wife, Eddie.” you threatened, giving him a kiss before digging into the pizza. 

“Would that make me your queen?” he asked, sitting next to you with his own slice. 

“No, I’m still queen. I think there’s a bunch of weird rules about that and if we got married you’d be Queen consort or something.” 

“Doesn’t that just mean I’d be the Queen's slut?”

“You’re thinking concubine, probably.” 

“...Can I be that instead?” 

You nearly choked on your pizza with laughter, feeling lighter than you had in days. “Yeah, sure. I’ll promote you from bard to slut if you keep being nice to me. Wait, aren’t bards known for being that way anyway?”

Eddie looked at you in mock-offense. “You dare suggest that I, Eddie Munson, humble bard, would sleep my way to the top? That I could not wed you on charm and love alone and that I would sell my body?” 

“....Isn’t your current band manager your ex?”

His jaw dropped and twisted into a face that had you falling back on the couch, laughing with tears in your eyes. 

“That’s not- that.. No, that was- I’m- We’re-” he sputtered, unable to hold back his own laughter. “Shit, maybe I am a slut.” 

“As long as you’re only a slut for me, that’s fine.” You leaned over and kissed him, still feeling those butterflies in your stomach as he kissed you back, setting his own pizza aside. 

A while later, Eddie was cleaning you both up as you lay naked on the couch. You reached out to get some post-sex cuddling but he jumped up suddenly as if he remembered something. He cursed and ran into the kitchen. 

You sat up, amused as you saw his naked ass disappear and reappear moments later with the tray of cupcakes, a few sporting lit candles. 

“Eddie, my love, you are naked and handling fire.” you said, looking him up and down in amusement. 

“What would I not do to entertain?” he replied before launching into Happy Birthday. 

You took a deep breath and blew out the candles. 

“I meant to do this before sex, but...”

“We’re not exactly good at going in order.” you finished, grabbing a cupcake with heaps of pumpkin-orange frosting. 

It was well past midnight when half of the cupcakes were gone, and you and Eddie were laying on your cramped couch with him as the big spoon. You two would probably regret it in the morning, but right now there was nowhere else you’d rather be. 

The two of you watched as Pamala Voorhees revealed herself as the killer and you played with the rings on Eddie’s fingers. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest, and you knew that in a few minutes his arm that you were laying on would fall asleep. 

“Happy birthday.” Eddie mumbled, his grip tightening around you. “I love you.” 

You pulled his hand up and kissed his fingers softly. 

Last year, you and Steve had a deal to wingman for each other to help you both get dates. In the end, Steve only managed to help you get one date but that date led you to finding everything you could have ever wanted. 

“I love you too, Eddie.” 

Tag List @k8loo @terrormonster55 @sp1dyb0y1008 @crocwork-clockodile @ali-r3n

@mxcheese @josephquinnschesthair @gagasbee @peaches-roses-sins @witchwolflea

@vintagehellfire @royale1803 @cumslutforaemond @prestinalove @browneyedgirly93

@perpetualmessmachine @thebook-hobbit @cultish-corner @grishaversecaptivated @sortagaysortahigh

@siriuslysmoking @huffledor-able541 @pookiesnatcher @eddiesguitarskills @browneyes-8288

@sheneedsrocknroll92 @kores-mun-son-n-more @eddiebuttcheeks @kirsteng42 @dreamerjj

@moonisu @em022O @cosmorant @kurdtbean @wheels-of-despair

[sissylittlefeather]

Congrats Sissy! So happy for you! I leave it up to you as to whether this inspires smut or fluff or both 🤭 xox

Hi @ab4eva! Thank you!! You know I had to make it a little smutty 😂. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this little ficlet. Thanks for making a request!

Careful What You Wish For

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, fingering, p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, outdoor sex

--------------------------------------------------

"Hey, honey!"

You hear someone call, but surely they aren't hollering at you. You're just walking down the street in Memphis, minding your own business.

"Honey!"

You look around to see if there's someone else they could be talking to. You're the only woman on the sidewalk, though, so you turn to the street. That's when you see him hanging out of the back window of a Cadillac. Your mouth drops and you stop dead in your tracks.

Elvis Presley.

Surely, he's not yelling to you.

"Hey! You remember me, honey?"

You stand there blinking for a bit before you finally find your voice.

"Remember you?! Do you remember me?!"

"C'mere so I don't have to holler." You walk up to the car and he smiles. "Of course I remember you. We had a whole conversation. Your name is... y/n!"

You're absolutely in awe that he remembers your name. The conversation was incredibly memorable to you, but you never dreamed it would be to him. You saw him early in his career before things really took off and it became impossible to get close to him. He seemed to take a liking to you then, but you assumed that was just how he treated his fans, not that there were too many of you back then. It's been over five years, but he still knows your name.

"I can't believe you remember me."

"I do, though. Listen, I'm headed back to my house. You wanna come?" You think about the man you were supposed to be meeting at the movie theater. You feel bad about abandoning him, but he's not Elvis Presley. This is not a chance you'll get again.

"Sure." He pushes the car door open for you to slide onto the backseat next to him. You do and he puts his hand on your knee. During the ride, he asks what you've been up to and you go back and forth talking about your lives since your last conversation. Something about it feels natural and comfortable, like no time has passed and it makes complete sense that you'd share with each other like this. Finally, the car pulls into the driveway of Graceland and you look up at the big house in awe.

"It's beautiful." He watches you with an amused look on his face.

"Thank you. It needs a woman's touch, though." You look back at him and your eyes flick between his. He leans in and presses his lips to yours softly and then kisses your cheek and whispers. "Let's go in."

He gets out of the car and offers you his hand. You make your way inside together, where he gives you a tour. The last step in the tour is the pool out back. The moon is heavy and full, so the water sparkles invitingly. It's summer and the night is warm, but the breeze is nice. He reaches out and takes your hand, pressing his lips to the back of it.

"What's your favorite part of the house?" He asks softly. You can tell he's genuinely interested.

"This. The pool is beautiful in the moonlight."

"You wanna go for a swim?" You laugh and look at him, but he's serious.

"I don't have a bathing suit." He smiles coyly.

"Do you really need one?"

"I suppose I could swim in my underwear." He looks up at you suddenly. He was kidding, but you actually seem willing.

"You could..."

"I'll swim in mine if you swim in yours." He grins sheepishly.

"Deal." Without another thought, you reach back and unzip your dress, letting it fall to the ground. You slip your shoes off and step out of your clothing where it sits at your feet. His eyes widen as they wander over your body in your white bra and panties.

"Honey, if you get in the water I'm going to be able to see straight through that. You might as well be naked." He smiles mischievously and says this with the assumption that you'll put your dress back on, but you don't. Instead, you unclasp your bra and drop it to the ground and shimmy out of your panties. His mouth drops open.

"Goddamn, honey, I never dreamed you'd actually take 'em off."

"You don't know me very well."

"No, but I sure as hell would like to." He strips his jacket and shirt off and drops his pants and underwear to the ground, allowing his hard cock to bounce free. Now you're both standing in the summer moonlight naked. He moves to walk towards you, but you giggle and jump in the pool. Laughing, he follows you into the water and then swims over to you. He wraps his arms around your waist and you grab onto his neck while he pulls you in close to him, pressing himself against you.

"You're a beautiful woman, y/n." He presses his lips to yours again, but this time he dips his tongue into your mouth. Pulling back from the kiss, he whispers. "I never stopped thinking about you, wondering whatever happened to you."

"I've been right here, waiting for you, assuming you were too much of a star now to even notice I was alive." You sigh and he kisses you again softly.

"Can I make love to you?" He asks almost shyly. You whisper in return.

"I'd love it if you would." His hands move from your waist to run all over your body under the water, until he makes his way to your center with his fingers. He rubs circles on your clit for a while before sliding one finger inside you. Pumping it in and out, he uses the other hand to pull you into a deep kiss. Then, he slides his finger out and lifts you a little to slip his dick inside you as you wrap your legs around his waist.

"Mmm Elvis..." You moan as he fills you up. He carries you over to the wall of the pool to give himself leverage as he begins to slide in and out of you. He sets his forehead against yours as he moves inside you.

"God, y/n, it feels so good." You whimper softly, feeling your orgasm build as he increases speed. He can't go too fast because of the water, but the friction against your clit has you ready to scream. After a few more thrusts, you cum hard, your climax rushing through you from your core to your fingertips like wildfire, and the sensation of your walls fluttering and pulsing around him sends him over the edge too. He shudders and pumps weakly as he fills you with his release, kissing your neck and jawline and eventually making his way back to your lips.

"Stay here with me tonight?" He pleads.

"Yes. I'm not leaving until you tell me to." He smiles and kisses you again.

"Watch out, honey, I might not ever let you leave."

"Be careful what you wish for." You kiss him deeply again as he slides out of you. He stands there for a while just holding you before you both decide it's time to get out. You're the one that realizes that you don't have towels. Both of you pull back on your clothes and then he escorts you inside and upstairs. He gives you one of his pajama shirts and you settle into the bed together.

"I'm glad I ran into you again." He whispers in your ear as you cuddle up to sleep.

"Me too."

Neither of you knows what the future might hold, but for right now you're happy in each other's arms. And that's enough for both of you.

******

The End

[the-peak-tmnt]

I want to say that I like that your fic is mostly Raph centric because those fics are rare and he deserves more love and pain lol

Raph: Mom says it's my turn with the trauma

Thank you so much! I'm seriously so grateful for people who are willing to give a Raph-centric fic a shot!

I knew writing Raph-centric fic that's also a Mutant Mayhem fic was gonna turn a lot of people off from giving it a try, which I totally understand because I usually go for Leo-centric fics myself lol. It also doesn't help that Mutant Mayhem still isn't super popular.

But Mutant Mayhem Raph is an exciting new version of Raph that's been SO fun to explore, and I'm gonna go on a little rant about why I'm enjoying writing (and torturing) him so much!

[Initiating Raph Rant] So, almost all Raphs are tough guys who also wear their hearts on their sleeves, which is what makes him such a fun character. He's "the angry one", but usually also super emotional in other ways:

Because MM feels more like an actual teenager than most other iterations, his moments of emotional vulnerability feel particularly raw and relatable. I might be old as dirt now, but I do still remember what it was like to be a teenager still trying to figure out who they were and what they wanted in life.

Mutant Mayhem does such an amazing job of hitting on those teenage insecurities and desires. The turtles whole goal in the movie is to be accepted. All teenagers feel like outsiders and want acceptance at some point. That teenage desire for acceptance is amplified for the turtles because they're not just teenagers, but mutants as well. The moment where Raph's voice sort of wavers as he says "we're never gonna be normal" breaks my heart every time, because they're so sure acceptance is completely out of reach for them 😭

...but the MM boys do get acceptance by the human world by the end of the film. Raph even seems to find his place own at Eastman on the wrestling team in the post-credit scene.

I think this is what has turned a lot of fans off MM, though, because the turtles' need for secrecy and using their ninja skills to remain hidden has always been an integral part of the TMNT franchise. Personally, I actually love that departure from the typical TMNT format and talked about it once before.

But there are some traditional TMNT elements that I did miss in MM, one of those being the fact that in most iterations, Raph is an outsider even amongst outsiders. His anger is what alienates him from his brothers at times, and it often gets him into trouble. It’s also what almost always leads to his friendship with Casey (another outsider).

Tales of the TMNT isn't out yet, and we don't how this series will give Raph that traditional outsider treatment, or if it will at all. They could save it for Mutant Mayhem 2, but that's still years away. And even then they might decide not to go that route because so far, MM Raph's rage has mostly just manifested in a propensity for fighting & violence rather than interpersonal issues with his brothers & other people. His rage is even framed as useful in the final fight against Superfly.

So anyway...as canon stands right now pre-tottmnt/MM 2, Raph is an "insider". He and his brothers can have a life on the surface, and Raph even seems to have found his own place at Eastman on the wrestling team. Again, I'm all for this happy ending and a brand new experience for the turtles, but I was also missing my personal favorite flavor of Raph...which is angry and alienated lol.

After I saw MM in theaters, I started looking at a lot of the concept art and other production material floating around on the internet and I came across this concept art by Garrett Lee:

And it was like "oh shit, there he is! Outsider Raph!"

He looks so lonely and separate from everyone else here, and I was obsessed with this idea of Raph somehow still being an outsider even after the mutants were accepted by humans. But again, we're still waiting for tottmnt and MM 2, and even then there's no guarantee we'll get an Angry & Sad Outsider Raph out of either of those.

So I asked myself "how can I ruin MM Raph's life so that he's as lonely and miserable as he looks in this concept art???"

...and Reciprocity was born 😅

[klbwriting]

Not Romeo and Not Juliet

Chapter 1: Mingle Yarn

Fandom: Red Hood

Pairing: Jason Todd x f!reader

Warnings: fighting, mentions of broken bones and blood

Summary: Jason Todd was alive again. Not only that, but he was back in high school, living with Dick Grayson, and just trying to get by without anyone noticing him. That doesn't go as planned.

Notes: Here it is! Dueling prep schools! Enemies to Lovers! Theater Nerds! Shakespeare! A true rom-com! Jason as a senior and a theater kid! I'm messing with the canon immensely so let's just call this an AU or Elseworlds story where Jason was killed in a similar way to Under the Red Hood movie, but instead of the LoA going and getting him Dick has the falling out with Bruce over Jason's death and he goes to resurrect him without Bruce knowing. He takes Jason to live with him in Bludhaven and enrolls him in Bludhaven Prep so that he can readjust to living and to leaving Robin behind. I hope you enjoy!

The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together

— ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL, ACT 4 SCENE 3

               “Jason, you have to get going or you’re going to be late,” Dick Grayson called through the apartment.  He knew Jason wasn’t exactly excited to start his senior year of high school and he couldn’t blame him if he was being honest.  Just a month ago Jason had been murdered by a clown and just a week ago he had been revived in a pit of green goo protected by assassins.  They had only agreed to let Dick revive him because they were the reason Jason was even killed in the first place, so it was honestly the least they could do.  Dick was still coming to terms with who came out of the pit, not Jason but not not Jason either.  While pre-Lazarus Pit Jason had been happy, funny, and kind of scrawny, this Jason was moody, stoic, and big.  He wasn’t sure how the 17-year-old had gone from around skinny 5’8 to a jacked 6’1 during a bath but it was what it was.  Now he was staying in Dick’s Penthouse in Bludhaven, Bruce had no idea he was alive, and he was starting his senior year at Bludhaven Prep and Dick was hoping getting him back out there with kids his own age would help him readjust to living again.  The therapist that Dick hired, the one Clark Kent recommended, had given approval for him to return, saying he was mentally able to be around others, but considering no one knew how the pit might affect him they would still be watching him closely.  Dick stood very still in the dining room, waiting until he heard feet stomping down the stairs from the loft area that Jason had taken as his room. 

               “I’m here, I’m here,” he grumbled, sitting down in front of the plate of eggs and bacon that Dick had made for him.  Jason took two bites and made a face.  “I am making breakfast from now on, this tastes like shit.”  Dick rolled his eyes as he watched Jason clean his plate of the ‘shit’.  “Why am I going to school again anyway?  Bruce pulled me out to be homeschooled when I was freshman.”

               “Ya Bruce also had you running around in tights and you’re not doing that anymore either.  At least not until we know that no side effects from the pit are going to cause problems,” Dick said, putting a bookbag on the chair next to Jason.  Jason glanced at the bag and then at Dick.  Dick was once again struck by how different Jason was, yet he could still see the kid Jason was in those eyes.  They weren’t same, they could never settle on what color they wanted to be, blue like before, green like the pit, even brown sometimes, a muddied version of the two.  But the vulnerability was there, even though Jason was desperately trying to hide it. 

               “Fine, I see your point,” Jason muttered, grabbing the backpack before heading to the bookshelf.  He grunted.  “You need better books, honestly, some actual literature would be nice.”  He gave up on finding something, grabbed his phone and took off towards Bludhaven Prep. 

               The car ride over was nice, then the rest of the day started.  Jason knew he was weird, new kid as a senior, eyes that didn’t know what they were, and that black hair with the one tuft of white streaking across the front.  He would be as rich as his big brother if he had a dollar for every time someone asked him about that during the first class alone.  By the time the day was over he was so tightly wound he wanted to bust.  It didn’t help that some football player had decided that Jason was going to be his target for the year.  It started with an ‘accidental’ tray drop at lunch that left yogurt and milk across his new sneakers.  Then in study hall a football to the back of the head.  Finally, what really broke Jason, was the walk from the front of the school to the back where the cars were lined up.  Jason was straggling, hoping that the jock would have gone first, and he might have peace, but no.  He started walking around the side of the school, no one around at first, when from the back came the jock and two friends.  The guy was cracking his knuckles like he was some gangster in a movie.  Jason rolled his eyes and dropped his bag, knowing where this was going. 

               “You seem to think you can just come in and take over my school,” the jock said.  Jason let out an annoyed breath.  He hadn’t spoken to a single person that, hadn’t raised his hand once, he had barely listened, why did the fact that he was an inch taller than this guy make the jock so insecure?  He didn’t want to deal with it.

               “Can you just try and hit me, and we can get this over with?” Jason asked.  The jock’s friends let out snorts of laughter and that seemed to enrage their leader, who threw a wild punch that Jason dodged easily and then Jason threw a jab right at the guy’s face.  He did forget that he was bigger now, stronger than before.  He was surprised by the blood, but the ear shattering crack of bone and the shriek that the guy let out did surprise him.  Jason took off, running around the back of the school and jumping into the car to get home.  Great, first day and he had probably just broken that guy’s eye socket.  He was getting expelled.  At least he wouldn’t have to wear the student uniform anymore. 

               By the time he got back Dick was already on the phone with the headmaster.  Dick pointed at the couch and Jason sat, not wanting to but he knew it was pointless to argue.  Dick had literally brought him back to life, he could sit there and take his punishment without argument.  He had just shattered a guy’s face; he probably deserved the tongue lashing.

               “-I understand but you have to remember that there were no cameras, no actual witnesses other than this Mr. Harrison’s friends, it seems like a he said, he said situation which will not make anyone on the school board happy.  Especially when I pull my funding for the new football stadium,” he said.  Jason rolled his eyes.  Dick had definitely graduated from the Bruce Wayne school for getting out of shit.  “Of course, I am glad that we could work this out.  And of course, any injuries will be taken care of, but no mention of who the fight was with?  Thank you so much for your discretion.”  Dick hung up and rounded on Jason.  “Care to explain?”

               “Some football asshole decided I was too tall for him,” Jason said.  Dick pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to remember why he had decided to take in a teenager.  “Did you have to break his orbital bone?”

               “I forgot about my biceps being the size of my head,” he mumbled.  Dick actually chuckled at that.  “He threw the first punch…”

               “You look uninjured…”

               “You think I would let an idiot like that hit me?” Jason looked shocked.  Dick sighed and looked at his watch.  Then at his phone clock, like it would be much different.

               “I am going to be late for my date with Barbara, stay here tonight, get your homework done, there’s food in the fridge and tomorrow we can talk about this more,” Dick said, buttoning his suit jacket and grabbing his wallet.  Jason just nodded, pulling out a book that he had gotten at the school library.  That at least had more options than Dick’s place.  Dick took one more glance at Jason before leaving. 

               Around 9PM Jason was starting to climb the walls.  He had this nervous energy and he didn’t know how to relieve it.  He tried to think of something.  Parkour?  No, he was angry.  Video arcade?  No, not enough movement.  Then he remembered the underground fights that he and Batman had once raised over in his old neighborhood, Crime Alley.  He figured the fights were probably back by now, they wouldn’t be down for long.  He knew he couldn’t show his face, Dick didn’t need the stress of him being caught in Gotham, or God forbid Bruce finding him, so headed down to the garage that Dick kept on site.  He started searching the sports equipment that he had, grabbing an old school goalie’s mask.  Very Friday the 13th, and hey, his name was Jason.  But the white, no, that wasn’t his color.  He looked around, finding some spray paint in another section and he painted the mask red.  Nice.  He grabbed an old black hoodie, shoved the mask inside the pocket and taking one of Dick’s bikes. 

               It took him about ten minutes to remember how to drive a motorcycle, apparently death didn’t keep memories of driving in his brain.  He almost wiped out five or six times before finally crossing over into Robbinsville and then up into Crime Alley.  He stowed the bike behind a dumpster near a Big Belly Burger before heading into a laundromat.  He walked to the counter that was helmed by a short woman with dyed blonde hair.

               “I’ve come for some good smelling socks,” he said.  He hoped these types didn’t get change their code phrases, it was the only one he remembered.  The woman nodded and pressed a button, motioning to the side door that said ‘Employees Only’.  Jason went through the door and down the stairs, donning his mask.  The guy waiting at the bottom looked him over.

               “50$ to watch, 100$ to fight,” he said.  Jason nodded and turned over his 100$ and the guy pointed him to another woman with a clipboard.  Jason headed over to her.

               “Name?” she asked.  Jason scrambled.  “Name?” she repeated, louder and more annoyed.  The other fights nearby were starting to watch him.  They weren’t too much bigger than him, he might have a good chance.  Either way he could blow off some steam.

               “Mask of the Red Death,” he said.  She cocked an eyebrow and shook her head. 

               “Too long, you’re Red Mask,” she said.  He nodded, very creative.  Poe would be proud.  “You’re finding Butch first.”  She pointed to a large man with muscles in places Jason didn’t know you could have them.  They were for show, not strength, not fighting.  This guy wanted to look good, not actually be good.  Jason watched him as they entered the makeshift cage.  He circled the guy, letting him come to him.  Butch threw a punch, Jason dodged behind him, and Spartan kicked him in the ass, sending him tripping into the glorified fence surrounding them.  The fight went on for only a few more seconds before the guy came back, trying to kick Jason, who slide to the side, grabbed the guy’s leg and slammed his elbow into his knee.  There was a crunch and Butch fell, howling in pain, unable to get up.  Jason was announced the winner and stepped out, heading towards a back door to get some air.  As he opened the door to the basement walkout, he heard a commotion and turned, seeing cops starting to come down the stairs.  He knew they would be going to the back door next, so he took off, mask going back in his pocket and climbing a nearby fire escape until he was high enough to hide in the shadows above the streetlight.  Once the cops that found the back were inside, he climbed down, running to the alley where he’d left the bike.  He was just moving the dumpster again when the back door to the Big Belly Burger opened, making him jump in surprise and slice his hand on an exposed piece of metal inside the trash.  He let out a grunt and the teenage girl in uniform turned to face him.          

               “Are you ok?” she asked, walking over.  Jason was gripping his hand, trying to stop the bleeding so he could get the bike and leave.  “Hold on, I have a bandage.”  She pulled out a roll box of bandaids from the apron pocket.

               “Clumsy are you?” Jason asked, trying to distract from the annoying ache in his palm.  She chuckled and walked over, pulling a cotton ball out of the packet. 

               “No, we have a griller who thinks he’s a ninja, any time he gets his hand on a knife I have to be ready to stitch him up,” she said.  She started dabbing his hand and Jason once again hissed.  “What music do you like?”

               “I uh…I don’t know, I used to like metal, some alternative stuff, but went through a change this summer…not sure anymore,” he said, confused.  “Why?”

               “Well, one this is distracting you from me disinfecting this thing, so you don’t get tetanus, and two, you live in Crime Alley, don’t be a stereotype.  If you think you might like something different than ‘I grew up in the slums, so I just listen to angry shit’ try Noah Kahan, you look like a guy who’d like him, or Hozier.”  He could tell she was just throwing out names to keep him listening and he appreciated it.  “What’s your name?”

               “Jason,” he said.  She nodded and smiled, finishing with the bandage. 

               “Nice to meet you, I’m YN,” she said.  “Want some help with the dumpster or are all those muscles working?”  She winked at him, and he actually blushed, glad it was dark and she might not notice.

               “Sure,” he said.  Together they moved the dumpster, and he got the bike.  He waved quick before driving back to the penthouse.  He got as far as the elevator door, when it opened there was Dick.

               “So, I see you had an interesting evening,” he said, holding up his phone where video of Jason breaking Butch’s leg was being shown.  Of course, Dick would realize it was him, he would know that move anywhere, Dick had taught it to him. 

               “I needed to get out, blow off some steam, forget who I was for a bit,” he said.  Dick nodded. 

               “Good, then what I just signed you up for will be perfect,” he said.  Jason looked at him, eyebrows raised.  “You’re not a member of the theater program, auditions for Hamlet are Friday.”

               “You can’t be serious,” Jason said, heading out of the elevator.

               “I am very serious, you go to school, go to practice, be someone else for awhile when you’re there, and then you come home and you stay here or I am calling Bruce and sending you back to him, see how Batman deals with your shit,” he said.  Jason sighed, heading up to his room.  Fine, theater, he’d wanted to do that before Bruce pulled him from high school.  How bad could it be?

[takerfoxx]

Okay.

I don't often gush about movies on this blog. Hell, I don't often go to the movies anymore. I just don't have the attention span for it. And I honestly was going to give this one a miss until someone who's opinion I trust was adamant that I needed to see this film right now on the biggest screen possible while I still had the chance. So, FOMO out won over, and I went to go see Godzilla Minus One in Imax.

...

Look, I've been a Godzilla fan practically all my life. My family used to rent those old english dubs of the films on VHS from Blockbuster in the early nineties. I grew up with these monsters. But I have to admit, I've never seen the original, nor have I seen Shin Godzilla. To me, Godzilla is about one thing and one thing only.

Fuck.

Yeah.

Gimme the big monsters just going HAM on each other. Rubber suits, CGI, I don't care! I want the big boys with beef to beef with a large side of cheese!

I guess that's why Godzilla 2014 ultimately left me feeling kind of cold while I absolutely loved KOTM despite how stupid a lot of it was. I just want my big monsters absolutely wrecking shit.

This was different. I knew it was going to be different. A remake of the original Godzilla, this time from the viewpoint of the common citizens still trying to get their lives together after WW2? I knew I was in for some heavy drama.

What I didn't expect was one of the most amazing theater experience I have ever had.

And I'm not just saying that because the movie is good, even though it is.

I'm not just saying that because the movie is great, even though it is.

I'm not just saying that because it's a goddamn masterpiece, even though it is.

I'm saying that because it's about as close to perfect of a film as you can get, and not just of a Godzilla movie, but just as a movie!

Like, it's a running joke that you can cut the human characters out of any Godzilla movie. Here, you could cut Godzilla out and still have a great movie. That's how good the human side of things was.

Like, you really grow attached to these people who have literally lost everything. You grow invested in their struggles, in their relationships, in their baggage, in their love for one another. You come to care about them and are genuinely happy as they eke out a new life after having their homes literally blown to bits. You just want to see them succeed and be happy together.

And that's when Godzilla shows up.

This movie is called Godzilla Minus One in reference to how post-war Japan was basically a Zero Society, left devastated by the conflict. And these people who literally were left with nothing suddenly find even that ripped away as an enormous monster just starts rampaging through the recovering cities.

And this time, Godzilla isn't an avenging hero. He's not a destructive anti-hero. He's not a fun mascot. He's not even a poor, suffering monster unaware of the destruction that he's wreaking. This Godzilla is goddamn menace, an outright monster that is absolutely terrifying. He wants to crush, kill, and destroy. This is Godzilla at his most actively malicious, and all you can do is gape up in horror with these people that you've come to care so much about, wondering how in the hell are they supposed to deal with this!

I won't give away how the day is eventually saved, only to say that it is a masterclass of character-driven suspense and emotion. You honestly come to root for the humans for once. You want to see them succeed, and are genuinely in fear for their lives. No exaggeration, I had my heart in my throat and tears in my eyes all throughout the climax. I don't cry during movies, and this movie made me sob like a baby. It was that good.

And it also had so much to say! Not only about Japan's collective trauma following the nuclear bombs or the other bombing raids like the original, but also about how the Japanese government dehumanized its own people during the war, treating them as expendable resources to fuel the war machine. The main character is a freaking kamikaze pilot who lost his nerve and abandoned his mission, and that plus another act of what he saw as cowardice haunts him throughout the movie, and while it realistically shows how such a person would be treated like a pariah by his former friends and neighbors, it is nothing but sympathetic toward him. He blames himself constantly, but the narrative never seems to.

And there's just this wonderful moment near the end, when it's clear that the government isn't coming to the rescue, so it's up to the common man to band together and find a solution, when a few men leave the mission for fear of their lives and that of their families, and are not condemned for it. And the scientist spearheading the whole thing gives this lovely little speech about how carelessly life has been treated during the war, from the kamikazes to the poorly maintained supply chains to how the common folk were left to fend for themselves, and he hopes to just once be able to secure a win that doesn't sacrifice any more lives. Wow.

I know it's probably too late for anyone else to see it, because I'm pretty sure it's theatrical run ends today. I just wanted to get this review off my chest, because wow, this was the best movie I've seen all year. What a goddamn masterpiece.

[fangirl-of-music]

It's spooky season again, and you know what that means!!!!

TIME TO WATCH PHANTOM 25th ANNIVERSARY AGAIN!!!!

(jk I watch it year round but it's been a sec since I've seen it so it's officially time).

This is my favorite version of Phantom in any form, and that's not because it happens to be one of the most accessible for me (though it is), it's also because this cast (Ramin especially) makes it so special for me. I love Ramin Karimloo in whatever role he's in (be it this, Les Mis, Anastasia, literally anything), but in this show his acting does something to my emotions so deep that I physically feel his pain, his love, his tenderness, his anger, everything. It's why I find it easy to forgive the Phantom for what he does, because Ramin doesn't just play the character, he lets me feel the character's emotions. It's not just Ramin playing Erik, I'm playing Erik too. He does the nuances so well. He does the angry/scary bits, he does the cheeky bits (in the Notes section), he does the romance, he does the sadness, all sooooo fucking well.

And don't even get me started on Ramin's voice. He has the literal voice of an angel. I love all his high notes, but also I just love any time he gets soft. His soft singing is tender and intriguing and enticing and makes my heart hurt sometimes. The same when he talk-sings, or when he whispers (like during All I Ask of You Reprise, or at the end of Down Once More, when he's singing to the monkey, and when Christine leaves and then returns with the ring). His acting works magic through his voice, and I think one big thing that I haven't seen as much from other Phantoms is Erik's vulnerability and loneliness, and Ramin brings it out so perfectly that I can't ever see another Phantom and compare them.

I love Ramin Karimloo <3 thanks for being such a great musical theater actor Ramin you've made me love this show so much.

Happy Spooky Season!!!!!

(Don't forget to watch Sweeney Todd (in whatever form you wish) and Little Shop of Horrors too!)

[kitashousewife]

you & me

an: i feel like gojo needs a break every now and then!! the chance to relax and i feel like he should get spoiled too!!!

pairings: gojo x fem!reader

warnings: angst from gojo, stress, anxiety, sorcerer au but everyone is happy and alive, alcohol mention and consumption, food mention, suggestive content

-

gojo's head hangs over the back of his desk chair as he lets out a long, exhaustion-filled sigh. he sways back and forth slightly, eyes shut, trying to relax for a few minutes. if he's not teaching, he's somewhere around the world on a mission. if he's not doing either of those, he's lying awake in bed with a drumming heart and a hyperactive mind.

with you by his side, of course.

being the strongest has its perks, for sure. challenges that help him grow and improve, opportunities to see the world, as well as more than enough financial stability. it's quite nice to be at the top.

it's pretty lonely as well.

the demand of it all has begun to take a toll on gojo, both mentally and physically. his bones ache, and his muscles strain more than they have before. just this morning during his training with the second years, he allowed himself to get pinned rather quickly by maki in 30 seconds. his fingers shake no matter how much he eats or drinks. even in his late twenties, gojo feels almost triple that.

the mental effects are a whole other story. at this point, he hasn't slept in almost four days, not that he hasn't tried. gojo's usually sharp mind is exhausted during fights, hyper-focused, and completely used up by the end of the day. and, for the first time in his life, he feels anxious. constantly looking behind himself, checking the school cameras, and even begging to install stricter security on your shared home than you already have.

he exhales, opening his eyes. he just wants a vacation.

"i'm really sorry, but nobody else is available," principal yaga sympathizes over the phone. the end of your pen taps on your notebook while you think.

"nobody from kyoto? what about a team? i know it's important, but satoru is tired and-"

"i know he is," yaga agrees. "but i told you, i can't find anyone else. i'm afraid that this mission needs someone of gojo's caliber. unless a miracle happens, i can't guarantee any time off. i'm sorry, i really am."

you rub your eyes, nodding as you cross off yet another failed idea.

"no worries. thank you for trying though."

you hang up and groan. this is the fifth idea that you've come up with today. valentine's is only a couple away, and you want to plan something special for your boyfriend. he's clearly overworked, yet he never fails to spoil you. it's your turn.

if something could work, of course.

you think for a few more minutes before giving up. you rise from your spot at the kitchen table, shuffling towards the fridge. at least you could make some dinner before he gets home.

"hey sweetheart," gojo's very tired frame comes through the garage door.

dinner will have to wait.

"hi! i'm so happy to see you." you give him a large hug, and notice that he leans into you a bit more than normal. he's already out of his blindfold and uniform jacket, both thrown on the floor near his shoes.

"i'm happier to see you. how about we order pizza or something? don't worry about cooking anything tonight."

you smile. even with his fatigue, he just wants to make you happy.

"whatever you want, 'toru."

the evening feels short. after eating dinner together and watching a couple episodes of a show that neither of you really notices, gojo heads to take a shower. you hope to figure out more of the valentine's festivities before he comes out.

you think about surprising him at work. going there early, setting up some decorations and his favorite treats all nice before he arrives. it's a great plan, except he would notice you were gone.

you consider seeing a movie, maybe even the nice theater that opened up. much to your dismay, every show time is sold out.

you're about to try another theater when your phone rings.

"i'm so sorry for calling this late. do you have a few minutes?" it's yaga again. he only calls you if he can't get ahold of gojo himself. your stomach turns.

"don't apologize. and sure, is everything okay?"

he chuckles. "actually, yes. turns out the kyoto branch wants to handle it. they have a team that i'm fairly confident will be able to get the job done, and then some."

your turning changes to butterflies. "what are you saying?"

the smile in your voice must be evident, as he laughs again.

"i'm saying that you're clear. gojo won't have any missions for at least a couple weeks, so he's all yours."

you jump up and down a couple times. "oh, my gosh. thank you, so much. i can't thank you enough."

"don't mention it. he deserves it."

you end the call, running over to your laptop. you might be able to pull this off.

"what's got you so excited?"

"satoru!"

he grins from behind you. he knows how much you hate when he sneaks up on you.

"really though, everything okay?"

"yeah. everything is perfect."

you shuffle by him towards your shared bedroom. he raises an eyebrow. his lithe frame leans against the wall while you grab pajamas.

"you're hiding something."

"six-eyes tell you that?"

he snorts. "no, i just know you. tell me, pretty girl. what's going on?"

"you'll find out in a couple days!" you peck him on the lips and get into bed. he joins you with a shake of his head. for the first time in a while, gojo gets a few hours of sleep.

if someone was to win the world's most impatient award, it would be gojo satoru. you're happy that today is the day to finally spoil your boyfriend, but a large part of you is happy to be done with his prying.

you complete the finishing touches on your look, finalizing the plan in your head. thanks to some friends, you were able to get a table at one of the nicest restaurants in tokyo. five courses, dessert, everything is perfect. you will finish the night in a hotel, one that overlooks the city and is luxurious in every sense of the word.

"how do i look?"

you look at your reflection and see your boyfriend staring back at you. black glasses rest on the tip of his nose, and white hair falls around his face. he's in a simple black suit, and shiny dress shoes, complete with a pricey-looking watch.

"you look amazing, as usual. are you ready?"

a low whistle sneaks through his lips as you walk by him. blue eyes drag up your figure and gojo can't help himself. he grabs you by the wrist, pulling you into his chest with a coy smile.

"i'm sure we could spare a few minutes," he smiles wide now, keeping one hand on your waist as the other sneaks up to the zipper of your dress. you put a hand on his chest to push him back, and he pouts.

"we do not, 'toru. we need to go or you'll ruin the surprise. you sure you want that?"

he trails behind you with a whine. "i'm okay with the idea of it," he jokes, raising his eyebrows at you, but you shake your head.

"i'm serious, it's time to go!"

gojo's fingers pull at the drivers seat, but you wave him off quickly.

"what! at least let me drive," he pouts once again, and you giggle.

"you don't even know where you're going! it's not a far drive anyway, get in please!"

he gives up, finally letting you spoil him. he would never admit it, but he feels terrible he didn't plan something for valentine's day first. every year he's done something elaborate. trips, jewelry, booking entire restaurants, renting out entire beaches, anything flashy and loud to scream to the world that you're his. he can't help but feel a little down, though. gojo is nothing if not showy, especially when it comes to you.

the drive is relatively short. traffic in the city gives the two of you time to catch up. gojo shares about his students, marveling at their rapid growth and mastery of their own techniques. the way he lights up when sharing stories of their success warms your heart.

this is the gojo that you know. the man who would do anything for those he loves. the man who would drop everything he's doing to go do something absolutely mundane with you. the man who sacrifices everything to make sure everyone important to him is safe.

"we're here," you announce quietly, voice trailing off with the nerves. you pull the car up to the valet, and gojo is quick to leap out of the car as soon as you park. he opens the door for you with a grin, helping you out and sliding his arm around your waist.

"wow baby," he eyes the restaurant. he's never told you, but he's spent about six months on the waitlist for this place. 'how'd you score this?"

"i have my ways," you smirk. if he's impressed now, you can't wait for him to see what's in store.

gojo watches as you whisper with the hostess, quirking a brow as they scurry back quickly. he's even more surprised when what looks like the owner of the restaurant gives you a hug. soon, you motion him over with a big smile. he points at himself, mouthing a cheeky me? to which you roll your eyes.

gojo follows you, holding your hand as the two of you are led throughout the entire restaurant. dozens of couples dine together, laughing and carrying on with looks of love and adoration. it only makes gojo more excited, especially since the two of you are going further and further away from the crowd.

"here we are," your friend motions towards a small round table, adorned with champagne flutes, plates, and a bottle ready on ice. gojo pulls your chair out for you, kissing your cheek before sitting down. what's even better, is that this table is the only one in the room. "the first course should be out in about fifteen minutes or so. until then, enjoy yourselves."

you nod to your friend as they exit, before turning to your lover.

"oh my god baby," gojo looks around the room, eyes sparkling from the light of the candles that surround you. "what, i mean, how?"

your cheeks heat up, and he takes your hand in his.

"i know how busy you've been, how hard you're working, and i wanted to make this special. besides, you're always doing something for others, especially me," you squeeze his hand. "it's time i take care of you for once."

maybe it's the lighting, the way that you look tonight, or the overwhelming feeling of being taken cared of and loved, but gojo can't help but feel emotional. he looks at you, eyes full of adoration, and he laughs to himself.

"i love you. so much. i don't deserve you."

you shake your head at that.

"you deserve everything good, satoru. i mean that, with my whole heart."

he kisses your knuckles. "i love you more, my perfect girl."

he stands up and checks his watch before walking towards you. he knees to your height, kissing you softly on the lips. your lips move with his, gasping when his hand smooths over your thigh and tongue swipes at your lips.

"we have about ten minutes left," he breathes on your lips and your breathing quickens. his other hand moves up your calf, under your dress before sliding up your thigh.

"how about i show you just how much i love you, my angel?"

[total-dxmure]

i'm super late to react about the tlou casting debacle, however you all know that i have strong opinions.

i'm sure that the actress who has been cast is incredibly talented, however i'm still extremely disappointed.

abby's looks are incredibly important to the entire storyline of the second game, and i had hopes that they would do her complexities justice. the writers used her stature and build as a serious plot device and let me tell you why:

she's taller than ellie. she's stronger than ellie. she's better trained than ellie.

does this stop her from continuously pitting herself against the woman? no. she is quite literally a cornered, feral animal. showing teeth and aiming for the jugular. it is not tenacity that we are seeing in ellie. it is pure, unadulterated rage. it singlehandedly burns her up from the inside out. nothing exists for her anymore except a singular goal and that is wiping out everyone who not just had a hand in killing joel but also had any relationship to those people. she's hunting them like prey.

we are supposed to look at abby and be scared. we are supposed to look at abby and think her capable of possibly besting ellie. we are supposed to see her, towards the beginning, as the "big bad evil guy". most of us are completely blind to the parallels when we're knee deep into the game because we love joel.

but that's when the shift happens. when you suddenly see abby in ellie's shoes. she's someone who just wanted to avenge the death of her father and all of his comrades.

though it was too late to save joel, ellie is murdering countless people in the name of someone she loves. she resented him for what he did to save her, and yet when faced with a similar situation she jumps head first into it without hesitation.

abby and ellie both had complete and utter tunnel vision. abby, who wanted to avenge her father and find the fireflies. ellie, who needed to make everyone pay for what they did to joel. both of them destroyed their own lives in their pursuits.

one of the most, if not the most emotional scene in the entire gameplay is the final showdown between abby and ellie. we see a weak (emaciated) abby fighting for her life against a strong, now incredibly skilled ellie. the role reversal is breathtaking.

this is why abby's looks mean so much. it is a testament to the absolute soul crushing sorrow that the both of them endured. most of which were mutually inflicted onto each other.

abby could have taken advantage of ellie's weaknesses and killed her in that theater, just as ellie could have done with abby.

ellie ends up turning into the very person that she hates most and her worst fear comes to life. she ends up alone.

the worst part of it all is that we know that joel wouldn't have wanted her to take any sort of revenge. she was living a happy, simple life with dina. the kind of life that joel had wanted for himself and for her. she can't even play guitar in order to feel connected to the man that had become her father.

he had died without her forgiveness. she is forced to live with that, all while being unable to forgive herself for what she has done.

and not to break anyone's hearts even more, but did anyone else catch the flowers that ellie put on joel's grave? blue hydrangeas. in the language of flowers they mean "forgiveness and regret".

[yourfandomfriend]

La Vie en Rouge || IwtV Meta

I've really been getting into the second season of Interview with the Vampire. The first season was great, but there's just something about season two employing one of my favorite devices:

Paranoia!

Not only can fictional characters say one thing and do another, (something that never fails to baffle audiences) but once you establish that the audience is being deceived, they start to question everything...

Well, not everything.

** SPOILERS** for Interview with the Vampire, Season 2 **SPOILERS**

Theater of Lovers

So… extra disclaimer: while I've been a fan of the Vampire Chronicles since I started reading the books in the mid-90s (yes, I'm very old) I'm not what you'd call "down bad" for the shallow idea of godlike killers whose every move is too beautiful for words. Like Daniel, I have issues with abusive, predatory assholes having such good PR.

One of the other things I always found hard to swallow was the way everyone in the books embodied roleplay personas.

I almost always see some of this whenever fiction turns erotic: characters don't just roleplay in the bedroom, or even try to play that role in real life. They are their role. The guy who is dominant in the sack is dominant to the bone, every minute of every day. Not because he wants to be, or even because his partner wants it, but because someone else is watching.

Feels kinda like it's all to get us off. That the characters aren't abstractions of people, they aren't attracted to each other or have itches that need scratching. The story is just an excuse for kinky scenarios, so go ahead and beat off because it's all just porn.

And if that's true, then you don't want to ever scratch the surface and find out the cliches you project onto are more complex than you thought. That would kill your boner.

But I feel like most of us have far more... sophisticated boners. Porn is dandy for being porn and not much else, but a romantic story isn't interesting for me unless the characters feel like people. And you know what? People have their own fantasies, ones that have nothing to do with me. They like to be someone else sometimes. They like to pretend, to play.

So I've really enjoyed this departure from the source material with Louis and Armand's relationship. Not only do they enjoy roleplay, but it also isn't because they are those roles -- a strong, dominant master and a weak, submissive minion -- but because there's something in each's bottle that desperately needs uncorking.

Series!Louis didn't have the luxury of being himself in his mortal life, and so only let himself be completely vulnerable for the first time with his maker, his first love… and got broken for his trouble.

And his brother, Paul, walked off a roof after Louis said "I love you." So it makes sense that part of his fantasy with Armand is, "You can't hurt me."

Meanwhile, Armand's only truly happy memories were of worshipping his maker. Since then, he's been saddled with the insufferable duty of keeping the Paris coven jackals in line, something he feels he can't abandon (for reasons that aren't obvious).

But Armand doesn't have the emotional strength to endure the relentless isolation of tuning up that clown car for eternity so it's only natural that he'd seek to occasionally regress to a happier time, if only in the privacy of an intimate relationship.

The trouble here isn't with roleplay, but with the way Louis and Armand insist that their play is reality. Their costumes are their own clothes, they swear, and their lines are their own words.

But we've seen this version of Louis before. He explains from the jump, right when we begin the new interview, that he plays tough because he knows what happens to the weak. Armand, though, is a bit more of an unfolding mystery.

The Glass Cannon

So... anyone else get the impression that this show wants us to feel, at least subconsciously, that despite everything, Armand is a delicate rose amongst the dickweeds? No matter how many scenes of his treachery and ruthlessness pile up? Because it quietly builds a case across seasons one and two.

From the moment they met, Louis could sense Armand's ancient power. The power to squish him like a bug with a thought. And that could very well have been the way it ended for Louis.

When Armand warned Louis not to anger the coven, Louis assumed he was being threatened and humbly capitulated, calling him "Maître." But was corrected. "It's 'Armand' for you."

Armand's job at this point was to bring Louis into the fold, by force if necessary, or else eliminate him, but still allowed him to refuse, over and over. Even though he had Cladia as leverage, even though he could drive Louis into the ground like a tent peg. Even though the coven grew furious. Armand still followed him around. Courting a fly that it was his job to swat.

Later, as Louis continues to be haunted by the ghost of his maker, he tries to take a picture of Lestat. When he developed it, though, there was just an empty space where Lestat had seemed to stand. An empty space... But not an empty frame.

Later, Louis is showing his photos to a gallerist who singles out the Ghost Lestat portrait, seeing only Armand -- alone, out of focus, pushed to the edge of the frame by a subject who wasn't there -- and sees the secret truth of his soul. His fragility. But Louis insists he knows Armand and he's "anything but."

Against the wishes of the coven, Armand spared Louis' life, asking why "those with the most power are often the weakest?"

When Armand tells his backstory to Louis -- the slavery and abuse he endured as Arun, his maker loving him but whoring him out to his friends as Amadeo, and now the unwanted duty and power of ruling the Paris coven as Armand -- and he asks Louis, "who am I?"

Eventually, Louis answers him: "Arun." Is that the real answer? We don't know, but it's the most convenient answer. For Louis.

So Louis plays the aloof master and Armand plays the affectionate lapdog. All the while, it seems, Armand is scheming and manipulating in the background.

In the present, he insists that's not the case, that his role in "what happened in Paris" was a single act of cowardice, rather than him pulling the strings behind it all, and everything else was done on Louis' behalf.

But the audience has already caught him in three huge lies.

As I write these words, it's the Thursday before season two's penultimate episode. And I wonder, are those the only two choices before us? Trust Armand completely -- trust that he is ultimately good and loving and blameless -- or assume he's evil and lying about everything?

Are Good and Evil our only choices? Or is what is done for love something beyond both?

Under The Burning Sky

Another great change to the source material is Old!Daniel. Allowed to live out his life in the wake of a savage brush with death, "The Boy" from the first interview matures into a journalist in his seventies, wise and cynical, sore at being taken advantage of, embarrassed by the foolishness of his past, and uniquely able to deconstruct Louis' bullshit and call out plot holes, many that only exist due to the massive retcon between books one and two.

Some people assume he's there to mock the source material, and thus the people who love it, rather than to demonstrate character by provoking two (canonically) defensive liars into giving a more truthful interview, and admitting that there's not only trouble in paradise but that it might've become a parking lot in the interim.

The source material takes itself seriously, but that doesn't even last until the second book when Lestat takes the mic away and calls bullshit on everything that came before. So why can't Daniel flip this rock over early for our amusement without it being an insult to the Chronicles and their fans?

PS, I know a lot of people are pining for "Devil's Minion," the story of Armand becoming casually obsessed with young Daniel after Louis let him live, hunting him around the world, and the whole thing working out to them being in a relationship. And they've even made some compelling theories for Old!Daniel's memories of his ex-lover "Alice" actually being an altered memory of Armand.

But I don't know how to feel about that.

I guess it would be cool... A big reveal about Daniel's past, adding to the themes of the season, and a pairing that's true to canon while still being unexpected. But as much as I love Young!Daniel, as endearing as he is, I honestly prefer him as the backstory -- the dlc -- of the far more interesting character that is Old!Daniel.

And if there was going to be a meaningful relationship between them, Young!Daniel would be the status quo. We've been here before.

I would especially prefer to see how aging into a mature, strong-willed, paranoid crank who's seen it all and isn't mystified by the world of vampires would alter his dynamic with the chronically underhanded, theatrical, high-strung, (secretly fragile) Armand.

Thus, the only Daniel/Armand ship reveal I will accept is the "Hello, Again" fight from the end of Saving Silverman…

[wonwooslibrary]

svt as boyfriends ♡ wonwoo edition

member: wonwoo x gn!reader genre: fluff, bullet points :3 word count: 876 summary: wonu's gamer bf era warnings: none !! just know that i am in love with jeon wonwoo. (me saying things like that is what makes it hard to see i'm a junhui ult on this blog) author's note: happy wonwoo day !!!!! summer is about half way over :( but I hope this wonu boyfriend au will make you feel better <3

There is absolutely no way that the Jeon Wonwoo is not the “gamer bf” 

I have some very specific thoughts about boyfie Wonwoo so buckle your seatbelts and make sure to keep all hands and feet in the cart while it is in motion 

Quality Time 

Jeon Wonwoo is the king of quality time!! 

He would so much rather just chill with you at home than go anywhere 

Hates parties and only goes to them if another member of svt is hosting it because he’ll feel bad if he doesn’t spend time with his brothers 

Feels uncomfortable around your friends but will go with you to see them anyway because as long as he’s with you, he’s happy 

ABSOLUTELY loves when you ask if you can join him when he is gaming! 

If you play games a lot, he’ll be all pouty when you beat him at something like Call of Duty, but if you don’t play games a lot, you’ll be pouty when you find out he let you win at Mario Kart

He would also love to just have cuddle time where he reads his articles online and you just game on your phone, read a novel or something

Words of Affirmation

THIS MAN IS FSDKJFNSDKJ so good at affirmation pls I could sob just thinking about it 

He never fails to make you feel worthy, and perfect ! 

Always compliments you when he’s watching you do something, like if you win a race in Mario Kart he’d be saying something like “I’m so proud of you, good job!” even if it is something simple 

He’ll be over the freaking moon if you tell him you got a promotion at work, he’ll go on a rant about how much he loves you and will be on your side no matter what 

Do pet names count as words of affirmation bc Wonu is the type to say something like “babygirl/babyboy”, “sweetie” or “sweetheart” aaaaa

Just imagine him being like “good morning, sweetheart” AAAA sorry i’m in love-

Anyway Wonu is amazing at compliments and also loving you 

Physical Touch 

Is awkward lmao but he will try his best 

He would love to rest his head on you, if you’re taller, in between your shoulder blades while back-hugging you, but if you’re shorter, on your shoulders 

I can totally see him waiting to hold your hand when you’re shopping, going on dates, or just chilling in the living room

Loves cuddles but would refuse to admit to it 

Please let this man be the softie we all know he is !! 

Though, even tho he loves being around you and touching you…he always needs his alone time, and you are more than willing to accept that because let’s face it: everyone needs to be alone once in a while

He is such a simp tho, if you ask for even the slightest PDA he goes all out, even if he gets embarrassed about it: he’ll wrap his arms around your shoulders if you’re sitting next to each other in a movie theater or a restaurant 

He’ll also 100% playfully push you, like if you tell a really bad joke or if he is pretending to be annoyed with you (we all know he could never actually have any negative feelings towards you)

Acts of Service 

Acts of service is totally his calling: he’ll love to do literally anything for you

When you can’t sleep or are sick, you’ll ask him to sing you something to relax you and he’ll sing for hours until the both of you are asleep next to each other 

He seems like the type to love doing simple chores like laundry: it keeps him distracted, gives him the alone time he needs, and it helps you out ! 

As soon as you pull a “Wonu could you do this for me 👉👈 🥺” he’ll be sprinting to make you happy 

My favorite Wonwoo act of service is: teaching you how to do things…

This man loves to learn, and who else is he going to share his knowledge with? You want to know better ways to keep your plants alive? He’s got you! 

You’re unsure how to make this side dish for dinner? He’s texting you links to twenty different recipes and helping you pick the one you like most 

He just loves to interest you in these silly little facts that he hopes would help you with something, whether it be now, or in 10 years 

He’s a helpful bean <3 

Gift Giving 

Uses his money to his advantage (pls stop him before he takes over the world) 

If you even mention an article of clothing being cute in a store, you suddenly have one of every color the next day

If you are like “Hey Wonu do you wanna go see __ in concert?”, you best believe that he’s buying you VIP tickets 

And when you complain to him that he is spending way too much money on you, he just shrugs 

“What else am I going to do with my money? We have a nice place, and I have everything I could want, as well as you, I might as well use it to make you happy” 

I love him…

[tadc-harlequin-au]

I wonder what would harlequin au meet there soul Ike au counterpart will look like and how would it go

Not exactly the brightest of meetings for some of them I'm afraid

The Caines will most likely be nerds about their interests before duking it out because Harlequin!Caine finds out that Souls-like!Caine imprisoned a bunch of humans lmfao

Harlequin!Pomni would refer to her Souls-like counterpart as a 'wuss, but not without potential', which might lead to THE GIRLIES FIGHTINGGGGGGGGGG (not seriously though)

Souls-like!Ragatha would be unnerved by how calm Harlequin!Ragatha is. It gets easier, but there is still some uncanniness that occupies the air

The Jaxs would either try to one up each other much to the chargrin of everyone else in their surroundings, or team up against everyone to do the biggest prank in history because ofc they fucking would

Harlequin!Gangle would be lowkey jealous that Souls-like has more confidence than she does, but they will so bond over their inner theater kid selves

Z and Zoob will speak a few words. And then that's it, they'll leave one another to their own vices, a fairly short but normal meeting

Kingr would be happy to finally have someone who has the same amount of interest in insects as he does, those two would most likely bounce off topics back-to-back from one another, a seamless transition

[empressgeekt]

I'm curious now, if someone made a reaction fic with canon watching your stories (not me because I suck at those), how do you think they would react? Especially if Branch was still gray?

Oh I play out this fic plot in my head on almost a daily basis.

If I were to put, Grey Branch, Poppy, Viva the snackpack, and Brozone into a room to watch my aus, both fics would probably start the same. Shock on both sides (brozone to Branch's state, and The Snackpack to Branch's alter ego as Bitty B), but eventually they'd all settle and start watching. Though, Brozone would definitely not that Creek at first glance. Viva would cling to her sister and the Snackpack would welcome her, but they would be very confused when she starts acting paranoid about the bergens like Branch, and Creek would..be Creek...getting on her bad side. Bruce would have to step in explaining that Trauma doesn't work the way Creek is trying to simplify it (he read a lot of the vacationer's psychology books before his kids were born). Needless to say, by the time that everyone has sat down the room is tense.

For Burning Branches it's pretty clear that this is an alternate universe so, they kind of just sit back and enjoy.

The Snackpack would get to witness the abuse a tiny grey branch would get in the tree, while Brozone gets to see Branch follow in there footsteps and escaping on his own. Branch himself remembers a few of these events but doesn't remember leaving so he interested in seeing where he counterpart went. Practically everyone panics when they see the head injury on screen, Floyd even starts crying at the sight. Once the rock trolls get involved it draws a lot of surprise from the whole group. Floyd and JD aren't too surprised they've been around the block before, and have a basic gest of the other tribes. Bruce is in the same boat as a few Techno trolls have washed up on Vacay island. However none of them had seen rock trolls in person and their dulled nature are a little disturbing, considering what dulled means for Pop trolls. Clay and Viva are paying rapid attention to the rock trolls on screen, because considering the environment their people live in these guys know how to survive and protect themselves. The Snackpack has mixed reactions, Cooper wonders if theirs another tribe that looks like him, Poppy just wants to help these guys find happiness cause they are way to serious in her opinion, Creek calls them brutes (impressing no one), while the rest of the pack are either confused/fearful/curious. Branch is just awed, this troll, the rock king no less, on screen took his other version and saved him. Not only pull him from the water but take this trolling stranger into his home and raised on-screen Branch as his own. It's made veery clear that the pop and rock tribes do not get along, and yet this king was willing to risk his power and reputation to care for Char, King Peppy never kept Branch for more then two days until shipping him off to the next foster family. He even seemed mad on Char's behalf, something Branch had never thought anyone would do. The amnesia is something that hurts Brozone, learning that in one world there brother forgot about them. Branch is a little envious of Char, after all losing his memories was pretty starting a new life with a clean slate. Sure he watches Char struggle, but he also watches Char thrive, regaining his color, learning to love music again, making friends, having a family behind him, heck even getting Poppy for a love interest. Sure, it's an arranged marriage between the tribes, and makes the theater very awkward, but there's a clear connection between the two of them. By the end of the whole first movie all the snackpack (minus Creek) and Bruce are shipping Poppy/Char (Choppy? We should call them Choppy), and they get pissed when John Dory on screen interrupts their wedding.

For FOF, it's more of confusing reaction since this could still be their actual future.

Branch makes notes to look out for Keith, cause just in case there might be a trolling who's a little weird ending up in the foster system after losing his dad and he doesn't want that to happen. Kid seems sweet and not that judging. As the au goes on, Branch feels all sort of embarrassment, from them witnessing his panic attacks and how they called him cute for the more wholesome reactions when it comes to Keith. When the whole wolf incident comes on screen, Poppy ask Branch if he would really do that for the village, and everyone is shocked when he nods. Creek tries to say the the forest is over dramatizes in this and that the critters aren't that cruel in real life, Branch just rolls his eyes only to hear John Dory come to his defense, as a survivalist himself he had to deal with predators, and everything on screen is necessary. FOF Branch is a lot harsher on his brothers and the interactions on screen are a lot more charged. Branch isn't sure how he feels about this counterpart. There's a feeling of justice at watchin his brothers get what's coming to them, but it also hurts that he's hurting them. He doesn't hold the same anger that FOF feels. Smidge kind of wants to meet her FOF counterpart, someone who uses her strength to save others, she's down for it. And Asks Branch if he could set up something like that in there world or at least train her, to help him in the forest. Branch is confused by that. Creek completely denies that he would betray everyone, but strangely Branch doesn't believe him. FOF Branch's wounds are scary to think about for everyone but Branch forces himself not to react. Broppy makes once more everyone uncomfortable, Branch feeling awkward, Bruce teasing, Poppy blushing, Creek giving the grey troll the stick eye. It's harder to different Canon from AU with FOF since Char is less Branch like.

There's just so much that could happen that i can't fit it into one post, but if anyone wants to make one to these they have my full permission. Though that might want to wait until the final product is finished.

[takaraphoenix]

Thirteen Truths (and a Lie)

Tags: m/m/m, polyamory, True Mates, post Nogitsune, Emissary Stiles, Spark Stiles, Pack Mom Stiles, Alpha Peter, magic, truth spell (in a way), hurt/comfort, Fae/Seelies, Erica Lives, Boyd Lives, Allison Lives, Jackson Doesn't Leave, m/f, f/f

Main Pairing: Chris/Peter/Stiles

Side Pairings: Boyd/Erica, Jackson/Lydia, Scott/Allison, Malia/Kira

Teen Wolf Characters: Mieczysław 'Stiles' Stilinski, Peter Hale, Chris Argent, Derek Hale, Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd III, Isaac Lahey, Jackson Whittemore, Lydia Martin, Scott McCall, Allison Argent, Cora Hale, Malia Tate, Kira Yukimura

@writersmonth Prompts: petal + theater

Summary: Seelies have invaded Beacon Hills and the pack goes to negotiate the terms of their surrender. The Seelie Queen agrees to leave, in exchange for a game. Stiles, as the pack's Emissary, is the one who gets to play. If he tells thirteen hard truths, in front of his pack, the Seelies will leave.

This Story on FFNet | This Story on AO3

Thirteen Truths (and a Lie)

Stiles Summer Stories 2024

Stiles yawned and folded his arms on the kitchen isle, resting his cheek on his folded arms and getting more comfortable. The others were droning on about something but Stiles couldn't find the energy to concentrate. He'd spent the past twenty hours on a research binge, he was sleepy.

"You should pay attention, Stiles," Derek frowned at him, looking somewhat concerned.

"Seelie Court etiquette, dos and don'ts with fae folk," Stiles mumbled, waving a dismissive hand. "I spent the past day studying up on it, I don't need the Alpha lecture – even though I'm sure Peter is doing a wonderful job explaining it to you guys. Go, Peter."

He gave the Alpha a playful thumbs-up and Peter rolled his eyes at him, though the man couldn't fight the small, bemused smile. He stood together with Chris in front of the kitchen isle. The rest of the pack was gathered in a circle around them, more or less. Erica was sitting on Boyd's lap on the couch, with Isaac sitting next to them, talking to Erica. Jackson and Lydia were sharing the love-seat, Lydia on his lap and a heavy book on the armrest next to them as she scanned through it while carding her fingers through her mate's hair, soothing Jackson (which was always a good thing to do during a pack meeting to keep him and Scott from going for each other's throats). Scott, Allison, Kira and Malia were sharing the other couch and oh god why was Stiles in a pack with so many happy couples, that was just disgusting. Kira was braiding Malia's hair. Why were they so cute.

Stiles' eyes found Derek, Cora and Isaac on instinct, seeking the companionship from the other singles in their paired-up pack. Cora offered him a grin and an exasperated eye-roll motioning at Scott and Allison while making gagging motions, which only made Stiles snicker.

Peter cleared his throat, raising his eyebrows at Stiles in a pointed manner. "As I was saying, we have to decide how we approach the Seelie Court."

Stiles just offered his Alpha a tired, shit-eating grin. Man, he'd never thought Peter would grow into being a good Alpha. But being brought back from dead had really helped the man. And he loved this pack so fiercely, with the fierceness of a man who had already lost one pack. So when the Alpha Pack had invaded their territory and when the Darach had poisoned Cora, forcing Derek to give up his Alpha Spark to heal his sister, Peter had gone ahead and killed one of those 'spare Alphas running around' (Peter's words. That man was horrible. Why was Stiles so deeply in love with him), making him the new Alpha of the Hale Pack. They'd rebuilt, together. Well, until the next big bad hit them. Stiles' breath hitched at the reminder of the Nogitsune and even without meaning to, he started pressing his thumbs against the pads of his fingers, counting them.

"Stiles?" Derek's voice grew softer as he watched the movement.

Startled, Stiles sat up when he noticed the whole room had fallen silent, everyone staring at him. Everyone watching his finger-counting. Damn it. He hated worrying them. He forced a smile.

"I'm fine, just didn't sleep," Stiles shrugged.

Which wasn't even a lie. Neither of that was. He was fine – his new normal, his new definition of fine, because he would never be 'fine' again, he knew that, it had settled deeply in his bones. He was as fine as he would ever be. Stretching long and cracking his back, he decided to focus on the pack-meeting after all. Better than to let his mind drift to dark places. It tended to do that, especially when he was on too little sleep, which he evidently was today.

"There isn't really much to consider," Lydia picked the previous conversation up again. "When negotiating with the fae, it's important to have one vocal point, particularly to avoid missteps. The chances of someone in this pack speaking out of terms and insulting the fae, or worse even, accepting something from the fae that will be taken as a bargain, is too high."

"Why—y is everyone looking at me?" Scott frowned. "Jackson insults more people than me."

"That's true," Jackson shrugged. "But you would just accept shit from them, McCall."

"Don't fight," Stiles growled annoyed, pinning both betas with a look. "Focus."

Both Chris and Peter regarded him with heavy eyes and Stiles avoided them both, instead turning his attention to the coffee maker to get something to keep him awake. He hated the way they'd look at him whenever he accidentally Pack Mom-ed a little too obviously. It made something anxious twist in his gut, making him wonder if they knew. It was probably wrong of him to 'secretly' be Pack Mom, without actually clearing that with the Alpha and the Alpha Mate, but… But then there were enough things kept between them so he didn't feel overly guilty for it. With a near vindictive energy did he pour himself a coffee before returning to the counter.

"I'll talk to the Seelie Queen," Stiles declared simply.

"Excuse you," Peter huffed out a near amused laugh. "Who's the Alpha."

Peter flashed those pretty, pretty red eyes at him. It was cute how Peter thought that'd get him Stiles' submission. Instead, Stiles simply rolled his own eyes and emptied the cup of coffee in one go, causing Isaac to make gagging sounds and Boyd to make a concerned noise.

"Who's the Emissary of this pack," Stiles countered, raising both eyebrows at Peter. "That's literally in my job description. I represent the pack in diplomatic missions and speak on the pack's behalf. Don't think it can get more diplomatic than a visit at the Seelie Court. Besides, with all due respect oh great Alpha, you tend to get… violent… when your pack is threatened."

"So," Peter narrowed his eyes at Stiles, demanding more.

"There's no way we won't get threatened there," Stiles blinked at him amused. "Seelies play games and they threaten with honey-sweetened words. The last thing we need is for you to take a threat a bit too personal and threaten them back, because we'd be in their realm. They'd not only have the home advantage, we'd be stuck in a whole different realm, Peter. You're good with words, you got a sharp tongue, but so do I. I know how to deal with this. I spent all of yesterday preparing for it."

"He's not wrong, dad," Malia offered with a shrug. "Stiles has a sharper tongue than you."

"From my own daughter," Peter muttered beneath his breath.

"He is the best pick, from a standpoint of his role in the pack," Lydia added. "I would have tossed my own hat in the ring, or even Kira's – kitsune are trickster spirits, so there might be a certain sense of kinship that the Seelies might feel toward her – but as Emissary, Stiles is best suited."

Kira ducked her head. "I would really rather not do a job that requires me to speak sharp and precise. I am more prone to word-vomit and I don't see that going over well."

Malia interlaced her fingers with Kira's and pulled her close enough to kiss. "I like your word-vomits, they're cute. But yeah maybe not vomit all over the Seelie Court."

"Are you sure, Stiles?" Derek frowned at him again.

"You are so way over-protective, dude," Stiles rolled his eyes.

"Don't call me 'dude'," Derek growled annoyed. "And I'm serious."

"So am I," Stiles raised both eyebrows at the former Alpha. "I mean, shit, I'm already best suited from an introductory perspective. It's rude not to answer when asked something and they will ask for our names first. Names hold power. If you give a fae folk your name, they have control over you, but if you just don't answer, you insult them. I'm the only one who can truthfully answer without giving my actual name, because I don't go by my actual name."

"Huh," Erica blinked a couple of times. "Didn't even consider that."

A broad, shit-eating grin spread over Stiles lips. "I was made for this one. Besides! No mortal danger! I mean, you know, not from attacks. Mortal danger from linguistic missteps, but I'm eloquent enough to fight that battle. This one? This one's for me."

His grin turned a little more wicked and Peter flashed his eyes red for a moment in a way that Stiles couldn't quite explain. But what he said was true. Ever since the Seelie Court had moved into Beacon Hills a few days ago, and people started disappearing, Stiles had mentally prepared himself for this. He was uniquely suited to take care of this problem.

"We're all going," Chris declared in a very final Alpha Mate voice. "We won't let you walk into a foreign magical realm on your own, Stiles. But nobody aside from Stiles will speak with the fae or make contact with them. You will not be provoked and you will not provoke. Am I clear?"

The betas all ducked their heads and nodded to varying degrees. Stiles' grin turned a little more soft at the trust from his Alphas, even as it made his heart feel uncomfortably heavy.

/break\

The fourteen of them walked deep into the preserve together the next day. No unnecessary accessories – jackets, scarves, jewelry – nothing that could be snatched or bargained. Nobody was to wander off and, as Chris had declared yesterday, nobody was to speak to the Seelies aside from Stiles. His heart was jackrabbiting in his chest. Peter rested a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"You can do this," Peter whispered in a warm voice. "I know that."

The confidence only made Stiles' heart beat even faster. He nodded sharply as he lead the pack toward the pond deep in the woods. Oh, he really hoped this was going to work. It'd be so much easier with magic, but—He shook his head sharply, he couldn't think about that right now.

"This is a powerful portal," Stiles motioned at the mushrooms growing around the pond. "Water is a bridge between realms already but this pond was turned into a fairy circle too. Do not get lost. I'll go in first, we will all hold hands, there will be no complaints."

His hand slipped into Peter's, who in turn took Chris', Chris holding Allison's, Allison holding Scott's, behind Scott came Isaac, Erica, Boyd, Derek, Cora, Malia, Kira, Lydia, Jackson. One by one, they stepped through the bond, falling through the sky and landing in a true fairy tale kingdom. Everything was a purple blue haze, beautiful. Glowing fireflies in blue and pink flying all around them, butterflies larger than normal circled them. Flowers and tall trees everywhere.

"This is stunning," Kira whispered in awe.

"Do not, under any circumstances, touch anything," Stiles reminded her in a steely voice. "Regardless of how beautiful and harmless it looks. Everything here is deadly."

The kitsune nodded sharply, holding a little tighter onto Malia and Lydia. No one had let go yet. Good. Safer that way, at least until they'd reach the Seelie Court. Stiles' eyes were hard as he regarded them all, counting his pack-members just to make sure they were all there.

"How do we find the Seelie Court?" Scott asked, looking around. "This seems… big…"

"He has a point," Jackson conceded. "I can't see a real path anywhere either."

Stiles smirked at the betas, before tilting his head back and calling out loudly. "In the name of the Nemeton of Beacon Hills, I evoke the Spark's right of an audience with the Seelie Queen."

"What," Peter's eyes were wide in surprise.

It made Stiles laugh and turn toward the stunned pack. "I told you, I am uniquely suited for this job. The Nemeton is what invited the fae folk. As its chosen guardian, I have the right of an audience and can not be harmed until I am before the queen."

"Aren't you full of surprises, little Spark," Peter's eyes danced with something that Stiles couldn't name, before he frowned. "Though I do not appreciate the half-truths. You could have told us."

"Eh, where's the fun in that," Stiles laughed and turned back again.

His laughter died when two Seelie Knights approached them, wearing armor of hardened leafs and bark, adored with gold and gemstones. Their long hair was braided and decorated with poison ivy. They were easily the most beautiful creatures Stiles had ever seen, though he couldn't tell if they were men, women or neither. He just knew he was enchanted. His grip tightened.

"Do not let go until we're at the court," Stiles instructed the pack sharply.

"Spark," one of the knights greeted him, both of them bowing deep. "Our queen is delighted to receive you. If you would follow us, alone, we will bring you."

Stiles returned the bow and spoke while still bent down. "I thank your queen for her hospitality, however, where I go, my pack goes. As she surely can understand, for she would not receive me without her trusted knights present either."

The Seelie Knights exchanged a look, but in the end, they gave a reluctant nod and led the way. They walked through the forest and it felt as though the trees were bending their way, forming arcs for them to walk beneath. It was truly stunning. Until they reached the Seelie Court. Like a naturally occurring amphitheater, in a strange way. The stones and Earth seemed like they had formed the rounded shape all on their own, it was beautiful. The trees above them bore pink flowers, their petals raining down on everything ever so softly. Stiles could imagine being here forever.

At the center of the amphitheater stood a tree stump, the bark rising higher in the back, making it look like a throne. On the throne sat the most breathtaking woman Stiles had ever seen, her dress practically see-through in soft green, with flowers growing around it. Her hair was snow-white, her skin pale and adored with silver freckles like stars. Her eyes sharp and unnaturally green.

Stiles let go of Peter's hand to go down on one knee, bowing to her. The Alpha caught on and followed his example, and so did the rest of the pack after a moment. The knights walked to stand on either side of their queen, who made a delighted noise.

"I am Queen Faerynna of the Seelie Court and I am overjoyed to welcome a Spark in my realm."

"You are too kind, your highness. Your hospitality flatters me," Stiles remained kneeling.

"Rise, and tell me who you are," the queen instructed him.

"I am Stiles, Spark of Beacon Hills and Emissary of our local pack," Stiles said, motioning behind himself. "This is my pack and we thank you for your time."

He could hear one of them – Scott? Isaac? – gasp loudly now that everyone stood again. Stiles didn't turn away from the queen, but he still checked from the corner of his eyes. Ah. Humans, the missing people they were looking for. Dancing with bleeding feed, crying without noise.

"Do you like them?" Queen Faerynna asked excitedly. "They are new! They entertain me!"

Stiles instinctively reached out behind himself to grab Scott's wrist without having to look. He always knew where his betas were, Pack Mom instincts were great. Holding tight, he stopped Scott and jerked him back, giving a light shove and hoping the rest of the pack would catch on and help him keep a lid on this. He loved Scott dearly, but the guy's mortals often got the better of him. He wanted to help the people right now, but they couldn't. It'd incite the queen's wrath.

"They seem like… dull entertainment to me," Stiles offered after a moment. "Not worthy of a queen as beautiful and powerful as yourself, your highness."

The queen looked pleased and intrigued by this, leaning back in her throne. "What do you want."

"Their freedom, and ideally that you leave our territory," Stiles offered bluntly.

"And what do you offer in return?" Queen Faerynna's eyes sparkled eagerly.

"What is it you would want, in return for this," Stiles asked instead of offering anything.

"Mh…" Queen Faerynna's brows furrowed thoughtfully. "You want to take my entertainment away and you claim it isn't worthy of a queen like me, so… If you can entertain me better than they, I will grant your request. They can go and I will bind my realm to another place."

Stiles took a moment to consider. "What… kind of entertainment would you wish for, my queen? I assure you, I am not a graceful dancer, I doubt I would be able to entertain you with dance."

She laughed lightly and shook her head. "Play a game with me and if you play, I let them go."

Adjusting his stance, Stiles tilted his head. "Neither me nor my pack will die or be harmed in this game? And you will let us go too, when the game ends?"

"No physical harm will come to either of you."

"No harm at all will come to them," Stiles argued sharply.

The queen looked even more delighted at that. "No harm at all will come to your pack, if you play."

"And you will keep your end of the bargain regardless of how the game ends?" Stiles asked warily. "Not just in case I win, but also in case I lose."

"Oh, you will lose," Queen Faerynna pursed her lips amused. "But yes. As long as you play, start to finish, I will let you, your companions and the drool little dancers leave my realm."

"We have a deal," Stiles declared, followed by gasps from his pack.

No bargains with the fae. Well, no ill-advised bargains with the fae. He was content with these terms they had set and he knew they would not get rid of the Seelie Court without giving something. He whirled around when there were outcries from his pack. Vines shot from the ground, curling around them from the ankles up to the necks, keeping them all individually rooted to the spot. Blood-red roses sprouted on the vines as they tied the pack up.

"You promised no harm-" Stiles growled dangerously.

"They are not harmed," the queen stated matter-of-factly. "And as long as you play, they will not be harmed. See the thorns as… incentive for you to play along, young Spark."

A vicious snarl formed on his face as he saw the fearful look on Lydia's face, the concern on Chris', the panic on Isaac's. He whirled around, facing the queen again. So he wouldn't have to look at his pack, not feel guilty about the situation he'd gotten them into.

"I'm going to play your game," Stiles muttered, displeased. "Tell me the rules."

"It's simple," Faerynna smiled at him lightly. "I will ask you thirteen questions, one for each member of your pack, and with every hard truth you will reveal to me, to this court, and to your pack, I will release one of your pack-mates. You can, of course, end the game any time by refusing to answer me, but then I will keep every remaining pack-member I still have."

Her eyes were sharp and so were her teeth as she smiled even broader. He froze at the spot, his heartbeat skyrocketing as his eyes widened and his palms started sweating.

"What," Stiles forced the word out. "H… How is that entertaining for you."

He had genuinely considered chess or something along those lines. A game of wits and wisdom, worthy or a millennia old fae. Not this. The queen laughed, her smile growing more vicious.

"You have a sharp, silver tongue, young Spark," the queen pointed out. "You have mastered the art of lying to werewolves. That fascinates me and I think it would be greatly entertaining to see you stripped of your armor and forced to tell your truths."

"Stiles, listen to me," Lydia spoke gently. "It's going to be okay. Whatever you say, none of us will hold it against you. We know you're doing this to save us."

"What do you mean?" Scott sounded confused.

"Sometimes, we tell lies because truths hurt, even those close to us," Peter's voice was filled with bitterness. "Whatever the queen wants to pull out of Stiles, she does so to hurt him."

"Which means that these are things he chose not to tell us," Chris continued. "And that's his right. Everyone has a right to their secrets. So what Lydia means is that we will not hold those secrets against him, whatever they are, even if they hurt us."

"Especially if they hurt us," Peter corrected his mate. "Because it's most likely that that's why Stiles decided to keep them secrets, to not hurt us."

Stiles quirked his lips into a bitter smile at that. Wouldn't Peter know about secrets, mh. Still, the reassurance from his pack somewhat eased the queasy feeling in his stomach. He took a breath at the soft, understanding 'oh' from Scott. Okay. He could do that. Telling the truth.

"Bit rusty, but sure, let's give it a try," Stiles muttered beneath his breath before straightening to his full height, holding his head high too, not cowering before her. "I'm ready for your game."

There was a pause in everyone as the game was about to start. The pack, Stiles, the queen, even the knights. No, everything. Stiles noted the way the falling petals were suspended in the air for a moment. The binding magic of a fae contract was kicking in. And then everything came back to life.

"How can there be a Spark, in a territory where the local Nemeton has been cut down?"

Stiles tilted his head, furrowing his brows. That wasn't what he had expected. He turned to look back at his pack, all thirteen of them wrapped up in vines, thorns digging into their clothes. Blood-red roses adoring the vines. Some of them – Malia, Jackson, Derek and Scott – struggling more, like they could break free if they only tried hard enough. Others like Lydia, Kira, Peter and Chris knew better, stood relaxed, knowing that the vines would only tighten if they struggled.

"You can't ask questions that we don't know the answers to. That's cheating," Chris declared.

The hunter stared at the queen with steely, cold eyes, making Stiles shudder. The glare seemed nearly protective and Stiles felt warmth fill his belly at that thought. He knew it wasn't, but still.

"That's what makes it a hard truth," Queen Faerynna smiled bemused. "Because he knows the answer. He knows the answer but hasn't even told his pack. Delightful."

"Because it's mine," Stiles growled, keeping his head high.

"Not anymore," Queen Faerynna looked gleeful. "Unless you are fine with leaving this court without your friends… I wouldn't mind keeping them for my entertainment."

She curled her fingers together and the vines tightened around the pack. Stiles glared frustrated.

"The Nemeton only plants the Spark. But there have always been three parties. The Nemeton, the Spark, the pack," Stiles answered, raising his head, trying to look down on the queen. "The Hales just stopped looking for a Spark. I'm fairly sure there's always been a Spark, but the Spark has been forgotten by the pack. They thought there couldn't be one without the Nemeton. But the Nemeton still planted the Spark. It takes the pack to ignite a Spark. I only got access to my magic after I joined the Hale Pack, the first time I used my magic was to protect my pack, at the rave."

He could hear the confused noises, saw the looks his pack exchanged at that. Could see the questions in their eyes. His stomach felt like it was filling with lead, even as the roses around Isaac turned from their blood-red color into a pure white and the vines let go, leaving Isaac confused, stumbling forward and instinctively closer to Stiles. Stiles' own instincts told him to put himself between his pup and the threat. The queen. So he pushed in front of Isaac.

"And why is that a secret?" Queen Faerynna asked. "Why not tell your pack?"

The delightful grin on her lips told him that she already knew. His pulse was picking up, he balled fists at the sides of his body, feeling tense and nervous. He didn't like where this game was going.

"Stiles," Peter growled. "Answer her question."

And not just because the pack was in danger. But because the Alpha was angry. He could hear it in Peter's growl. The master manipulator and hoarder of information hated not knowing. This was knowledge regarding his pack that had been deliberately kept from him by his Emissary.

"Because you already lost enough," Stiles forced out, turning to look at Peter, Derek and Cora. "You were already blaming yourself for the loss of your family. You didn't need to know that your family could have lived if the pack had kept looking for Sparks, if instead of the unreliable, weak druid, Talia would have had a Spark as her Emissary. I didn't want you to feel like there was something else you could have done to prevent what happened, not when the past is… in the past."

He pressed his lips together and looked away from the Hales. There was no changing the past and yet this was a fact. If the Hale Pack hadn't stopped looking for Sparks, had kept looking for them, they would have had Sparks as Emissaries for the past seventy years. Whoever had been the Spark before Stiles, they would have been at Talia's side, they could have protected the pack.

"Stiles…" Peter's voice softened. "That wasn't your burden to carry."

"It was," Stiles straightened his posture again, bracing himself for what would come after this. "I am your Emissary. Protecting this pack is my job. Even from emotional pain, Peter."

He chanced a glance at the Hales, seeing pain and pity in their eyes, even as the roses around Cora turned lily white and the vines fell off of her. She came to join Isaac in standing behind Stiles. He took a step forward, away from them. He didn't want comfort or support, because it would just make him more aware of the audience he had. If he had to give eleven more truths, he needed to compartmentalize. Lock away his own feelings in regard to this and focus on the task.

"Your job, mh," a bemused smile played on the queen's face. "What is your job in this pack?"

"I'm the Emissary of the pack," Stiles replied with narrowed eyes.

"Half-truth," Queen Faerynna chimed, shaking her head in disapproval. "Don't make me hurt them. You know exactly what I am talking about. What's your job in this pack, that you're hiding?"

"I'm…" Stiles' voice shook a little and he swallowed hard. "Pack Mom."

Noises of confusion came from behind him, startled gasps. He tried tuning them out, because he knew he wasn't done answering. She required elaborate answers. Painful answers.

"I've been Pack Mom since I joined this pack, back when Derek was still the Alpha," Stiles continued, focusing only on the queen. "I take care of my pack. I used my magic for the first time so I could protect my pups. I protected them from the kanima, at the rave. Put myself between them and the threat. Would do it again every day. Am doing it right now."

He squared up just a little, glaring at the queen and drawing emphasis to the fact that he did stand between her and Isaac and Cora. The two betas made curious noises at that. The queen laughed. Someone else was freed and moments later, he felt Derek's hand on his shoulder. He turned, just a little, looking at the former Alpha, seeing the wondrous look in Derek's eyes.

"I protected Boyd and Erica in the basement. I made them return to the pack. I blackmailed Jackson's parents into not leaving for London. I keep this pack together. It doesn't matter who's the Alpha, I'm Pack Mom and they are my betas first."

For a split second, his eyes flitted back to Peter, but he couldn't make out what the look on the Alpha's face meant. He hoped it wasn't anger. Swallowing hard, Stiles returned his attention to the queen, with Derek standing strong at his side, helping him shield Isaac and Cora. A small smile found its way onto Stiles' lips. The two of them had become friends, close friends, over all the times they'd saved each other's lives. Derek may not have been a good Alpha, but he was a good man and a good friend. He was much happier now, as a beta again, Stiles could see that.

"You keep protecting your pack, I'm sure you've given a lot for them," Queen Faerynna mused. "What else have you given, for that pack of yours? What is the most you have given for them?"

His whole body tensed as a flood of memories flashed before his inner eye, memories of every single time he had gotten hurt, tortured, abducted, tormented, and unable to stop it, he could feel himself starting to count his fingers. His thumbs pressed against his other fingers one by one, forcefully, and lastly pressing against his palm. One, two, three, four, five. Five fingers on each hand. Not a dream. Not a nightmare. Because it started to feel like a nightmare, like he was being tortured on purpose. He counted his fingers again. Derek, Cora and Isaac stepped up to him, careful.

"Stiles," Derek spoke softly, watching the movement of his fingers.

One, two, three, four five. He balled his hands into fists, albeit shaking. He knew what Derek was thinking, what they all were thinking, was acutely aware of the way they'd watched the movement. They knew what this was, what he was doing, why he was doing it. Which was why his actual answer was only going to surprise them even more. Because the Nogitsune wasn't something he had given, not really. It was something that had been forced onto him. That was different.

"I died," Stiles replied after another beat. "I gave my life for this pack. In the Argents' basement-"

He could see Chris and Allison flinch and Boyd and Erica still at his words and he ignored it, instead barreling on to get it over with. "I died in that basement. Because the level of electricity needed to keep wolves from shifting is too much for a human heart to endure. When I tried freeing Boyd and Erica, I got electrocuted. My Spark didn't allow me to stay dead, it restarted my heart."

"Stiles-" Chris' voice broke, sounded so wrecked, it made Stiles' heart ache.

"I died for this pack," Stiles repeated with emphasis, turning away from his pack again to instead look the queen dead in the eyes, his own gaze cold and serious. "And I'll do it again, as often as I have to, as long as I can keep them safe. I'll do anything to keep my pack safe."

And it wasn't just additional information, it was a thinly veiled threat. If she hurt them, he was going to kill her. As simple as that. Queen Faerynna laughed delighted, clapping her hands.

"I will be generous, young Spark. You gave me two hard truths, what you have given and what you are willing to give, so I will in return give you two of your pack-mates."

The vines fell off both Boyd and Erica and without hesitation did the mated pair rush to him and hug him from behind, from either side. He couldn't help but flinch. He'd never wanted them to know. His heart was hammering in his chest and his eyes burned with unshed tears. They let him go reluctantly, after a moment, when they noticed him shaking. Knowing that he couldn't afford to break down here, knowing that he needed the distance. He was eternally grateful to them when they stepped back to fall in line with Cora and Isaac, allowing him to gather himself.

"What are you most ashamed of, most afraid they will learn?"

There was something predatory to the queen's gaze at that, unnaturally long teeth showing in her smile. Stiles wrapped his arms around his torso, too aware of the way Derek, Cora, Isaac, Boyd and Erica were huddling around him, how the rest of the pack stood behind them, still tied up, still in danger, yet all of them watching him. He hunched in on himself, shoulders drawn close. The vines around the other pack-members tightened until there were some pained noises coming from Kira and Lydia. Stiles ground his teeth together, glaring viciously at her.

"I killed Allison," Stiles spat the words out, closing his eyes tightly.

"What are you talking about, she's right here!" Scott sounded desperate, worried. "And you didn't do anything, it was the demon, it wasn't you!"

"But it was me," Stiles growled, voice dripping with self-loathing. "I remember everything it did. It made me watch. I felt the resistance of her flesh when we drove the sword into her and I watched her die in my arms, I listened as she took her last breath. I was too late. By the time I could wrestle some control back from it, she was dead. Lydia didn't scream in warning because someone might die, she screamed because Allison did die that day because I killed her."

He made a wretched sound but managed to not throw up at the court. Yay, him.

"Stiles, I'm alive," Allison pointed out, gently. "M… Maybe it was just messing with you-"

"Go on, young Spark, and I'll let two go again," the queen offered generously.

"I gave up my Spark to bring you back," Stiles whispered, tilting his head down, feeling so small. "I poured all of my magic into you, into bringing you back, I clawed at your soul to drag it back into your body. That's why I haven't used my magic since the possession. I know you all think I'm just afraid of it because the Nogitsune was dark magic, but it's because I don't have magic anymore. I gave it up to bring Allison back. I don't know if it will ever recover, or if it's gone for good."

Shocked and pained gasps and when the five already freed tried to comfort him, he shied away from their touch. He'd never wanted to admit this, he never wanted to tell them that he was useless now, that he no longer had his magic, had no right to be Emissary of the pack anymore. He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the tears running down his cheeks but choking on his sob.

"Stiles…" Allison's voice was so soft as her and Scott walked up to him. "Thank you."

She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug, and Scott was right next to her, his arms around them both and suddenly, Stiles couldn't fight the sob anymore, clinging onto her.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Stiles chanted until his voice broke. "I killed you."

"You brought me back to life," Allison corrected, gently caressing his hair. "You gave up your magic to bring me back to life, Stiles. I don't know how to thank you for that."

The queen waited patiently until his tears died and he gathered himself enough to face her again. He motioned for Scott and Allison to join the others, still wanting to keep them safe, needing to protect his pack. They reluctantly obeyed, after soft additional tugging from the other betas.

"Continue," Stiles ordered, voice rough. "Let's get this over with. I want to go home."

"You told me what you gave up for the pack, what you are willing to give up for it. What have you lost for this pack?" Queen Faerynna asked, tilting her head. "Not given, but what was taken."

Clarification, so he couldn't say his magic. He frowned annoyed. And then he paused when he noticed that he was counting his fingers again. Oh. Right, remembering the Nogitsune did that to him. Many things did that to him. He had too many triggers to keep track of at this point.

"My sanity. My mind," Stiles furrowed his brows, looking down at his hands. "The Nogitsune took my ability to tell reality from nightmare. Every single time something… not normal… happens, I have to count my fingers to make sure I'm awake. And in our lives, every day is a day that something abnormal happens and every time, I have a moment of panic that I'm not awake, not really here, that it's not real, that I'm still stuck in my mind, and I don't think that will ever stop."

This one felt good, in a weird way. Like a tight grip on his heart was easing off and he could breath just a little easier. Scott slipped a hand into his from one side, giving it a tight squeeze and looking at him with those big puppy-dog eyes, sad but supportive. Derek took his other hand. Allison, Cora, Isaac, Boyd and Erica were still standing in a half-circle behind him. Protective. Supportive. There.

The roses around Jackson turned white and the former kanima was free to first check on Lydia and… and then join the others in their protective little half-circle around Stiles. His heartbeat picked up and he raised his chin high to regard the queen coldly. Bring it on, his gaze said.

"What is the thing you are most afraid of?"

Mh. Stiles felt himself strangely detached as he considered this question. Near clinical.

"The Nogitsune made me think I was dying," Stiles whispered. "Dying of the same illness that took my mom. And that… That's my biggest fear. Every day I wake up and I am terrified that today's the day, today I'll start showing actual symptoms. That I'll fully lose my mind, forget all the knowledge I've gathered, forget the people I love, forget myself. That I'll die slowly and alone, even if everyone who loves me is around me, because I won't recognize them."

He blinked repeatedly, blinking away tears as he remembered his mother's vacant gaze. Scott gave his hand a squeeze but didn't speak, knew it wouldn't change anything. Nothing could. The vines let go of Kira and she stumbled up to the rest of the pack, finding her place among them.

The queen tapped her fingers against her chin, smiling. "Who do you love the most?"

"My dad," Stiles answered without missing a beat, this being a truth he didn't mind to part with. "He's the only one I have left. Ever since mom died, since her family turned their backs on us, he's all I have left. I love him more than my own life."

The queen pursed her lips and tilted her head. "That was not the love I was talking about, but it was such a sweet and genuine answer that I will accept it. And it is on me for not being specific."

The flowers around Malia turned from red to white. Ten down, three more to go. This one had been easy. Deceptively easy. Stiles felt himself tense in anticipation for what came next.

"Who are you in love with?" Queen Faerynna rephrased her last question. "Romantic love, dear."

Stiles' eyes widened and he squared his jaw, clenching a hand over his mouth, trying to physically keep himself from answering. No. Not this. Everything but this. She couldn't take this from him.

"Stiles," Lydia spoke softly, reaching out as far as the bindings allowed. "It's okay."

"Yeah," Jackson heaved a sigh. "Not like we all don't know it. You know I'm okay with it, you love Lydia, everybody knows. It's okay."

The rest of the pack made reassuring noises too. Like they knew him. Like they knew what was in his heart. They really thought he was still hung up on Lydia? After all this time?

"I'm not in love with Lydia," Stiles spat out. "I've never been in love with Lydia, it was just easier to be in love with a perfect girl who would never look at me twice than to confront that I'm gay."

He gasped at that, he'd never said it out loud, not even to Scott. His best friend made a confused noise, so did the majority of pack. Like being gay wasn't a big deal. Straight people really didn't get it. Even with the most supportive allies surrounding him, that didn't change the fear.

"Danny is gay, so is my dad, Peter and Malia are bi, Kira is a lesbian," Allison pointed out gently. "I just mean, none of us would have judged you."

"I've told myself that I'm in love with Lydia since first grade, since before I knew what gay even was, that boys liking boys was even a thing that could happen," Stiles snarled, his fists shaking next to him. "Good for everyone who had the emotional space and capability to come to terms with it before high school, I didn't. And when I was ready to come out, when I told my dad that I'm gay he told me not dressed like that, my own father couldn't believe that I could be gay because of the way I dress, so I shoved that back down where it's been for years and left it there. Because living a lie that nobody questions is easier than living a truth that people might reject."

Queen Faerynna regarded him with soft, warm eyes and that made it worse. "I'll accept it. It wasn't an answer to the question I asked, but it was a hard truth, so I will accept it."

The flowers on Lydia turned white, releasing her. She stumbled into Jackson's arms. Stiles marginally relaxed. Two more. He could do this. He felt raw and naked and vulnerable but he had endured eleven truths, he could tell two more and then they could get out of here.

"Now, let me rephrase again, then. One last time. If you do not answer me truthfully this time, I will keep you all here for eternity, young Spark. Who do you desire the most?"

"My mates," Stiles choked out, tears prickling in the corners of his eyes. "I want my mates. I know they don't want me, I know that, I learned to accept that, but that doesn't stop me from wanting them. I want them so badly, it physically hurts."

Stiles kept his eyes on the queen, ignoring the surprised gasps from his pack, ignoring Peter and Chris. He could see them in the corner of his eyes, he wished he couldn't. He didn't want them to know this, not them. He'd worked so hard to ignore this. Chris was released and went to hug Allison. He tried to reach out to Stiles but Stiles violently flinched away from his touch.

The queen didn't give Chris a chance to speak. "Why do you think your mates don't want you?"

"Because he has known for two years and never said anything and they've sealed their mate-bond a year ago and never said anything and how could they," Stiles spat the words out, shaking a little. "I killed him, I killed Peter. And I killed Chris' daughter. How could they want me. Half the time, I don't even understand why they let me be part of the pack, much less the Emissary, so that's already more than I deserve. How could they want me, I don't want myself."

His breathing was labored and he knew the look in his eyes was haunted. He pulled away from the pack, wrapping his arms around himself, trying to protect himself. Peter was free, they were all free, and Stiles felt like he was breaking into a million pieces, with all his well-guarded secrets laid bare before them all. He gasped out a sob, trying to gather himself.

"There," Stiles snarled. "I played your game. Now keep your promise."

"Of course, young Spark," Queen Faerynna smiled and it looked nearly merciful. "You played well, so I will reward you. Your Spark is not gone, you simply lost connection to it. Let me help you reignite it, as a thank you for a very entertaining evening."

She lifted her hand, and there was a sudden warmth in his chest. He gasped out as power flooded him, his eyes widened and he knew, in that moment, that they were flashing turquoise, as they hadn't in too many months. The next second, he found himself in the middle of the pond. Dripping wet, with his entire pack, and the previously dancing humans, sitting in the water.

"Stiles-" Peter spoke, his voice sounding unsure.

"No," Stiles shook his head violently and climbed out of the pond. "No. No, I can't. I can't… I… I… I can't have this conversation now, I can't, I need to… be alone, right now."

"I'll drive you home, Stiles," Derek offered in an unusually soft voice.

Stiles turned to glare at the former Alpha. But he knew he was shaking, full body shakes, and was about a second away from a full panic attack. He was also overwhelmed by this new, even stronger connection to his Spark, he felt like his nerves were on fire. After taking a shaky breath, Stiles nodded, giving up. Maybe he could use someone driving him home right now.

He let Derek lead the way back to their cars, where he took Stiles' keys from him and started the Jeep. Stiles slipped into the passenger seat, pulling his legs up, feeling small and exhausted. He rested his head against the window, tears running down his face.

"Tell me if there is anything I can do," Derek requested, voice low.

"G… Give me the weekend," Stiles pleaded. "I can't see them, I can't talk to them, I just… I just need time, please, I need… I didn't want to say any of this, these were my truths and she took them, forced them away from me and I can't deal with whatever Peter and Chris want, I can't."

"Of course," Derek rumbled softly, reassuring.

Stiles sagged a little in relief at the promise. He felt too raw. He needed time to stitch himself together again before he could face anyone, much less Peter and Chris.

/break\

Chris wanted to reach out for Stiles, wanted to comfort him, to hold him. Before he had a chance to did his own daughter step in the way. The look on Allison's face was hard and Chris was shocked to have it aimed at himself. The betas lined up behind her. Putting themselves between Chris, Peter and Stiles. Protecting Stiles from the Alphas. Chris startled as he realized that with a pang.

Derek led Stiles away to the cars, leaving the rest of the pack behind. Peter next to Chris ground his teeth together, keeping from snarling at their betas. Chris reached out, taking his mate's hand.

"Scott, Erica, Jackson, Malia, I want you three to take the injured people to the hospital," Lydia instructed in a stern no-nonsense voice. "I want you to also go and get rid of your aggression because I will not have this escalate into a physical fight. Boyd, I want you to take Kira, Isaac and Cora home. Me and Allison will go with our Alphas and have a conversation with them."

"Why do you think you get to command my pack," Peter asked sharply.

Lydia's eyes were steely. "Because you hurt Stiles. And right now, I'm the only thing between you and the sharp teeth and claws of your own betas, because – and you should know that – we love Stiles. Even if we may not have known that he was Pack Mom, the bond was still there."

Isaac whined at that, leaning into Erica and Boyd for a moment. Of course. The three first betas of the Hale Pack had the strongest bond to Stiles, aside from Scott. The strongest Pack Mom bond. Stiles had just admitted it, that he had become Pack Mom for them. Chris swallowed hard. He turned to look at Peter, who looked guilty and heartbroken.

"Fine," Peter forced out. "Do as she said."

The pack split up, Chris and Peter getting into Peter's car, together with Allison and Lydia. The drive back to the Hale House was tense and quiet, the two girls in the back seething.

"I love you, dad," Allison started as soon as they entered the house. "But you have some serious explaining to do, because I've never felt more protective of Stiles than right now, after he just told me that he brought me back from the dead."

She was shaking, Chris noted. Because she'd died. His daughter had been dead. Chris started shaking too. He reached out for her, wrapping his arms around her. Thankfully, she let him. A sob tore from her throat as he started crying. Mourning her own death.

"There is… a lot that Stiles has done for this pack, without any of us knowing," Lydia's voice was a sad whisper, her eyes on the ground. "And some where we didn't know the depth of his sacrifice. So yes, you two do have some explaining to do and don't you dare growl at me and deny me, Peter Hale. Stiles just bared his soul to us, you owe at least that much in return."

Chris didn't let go of Allison, burying his face in her hair. He'd already lost his entire family, he only had her. The thought that he had lost her, that she would be dead if Stiles hadn't given up his magic for her. His grip on her tightened even more, desperate.

"He's been through so much," Chris admitted after a long moment. "When Peter and I got together, when I learned that we had a third mate in our bond, when I realized he's seventeen, he's… he's your age, Allison, I was… mortified of that. My mate is the same age as my daughter, I needed some time to digest that, I wanted for us to wait until he's at least eighteen."

Lydia heaved a deep sigh, but her eyes were on Peter, cold. "You don't have morals."

Peter barked out a laugh at that. "You're right. His age doesn't bother me. I would have claimed him on the spot, if I could have. But then I inconveniently died. And when I came back, well… There was always something, something dangerous to take care of."

"You found the time to court my dad," Allison pointed out.

There was a pause and a vulnerability to Peter. "He did kill me. I didn't think… I thought he deserved better. I worked very hard to become… better. Worthy of him. And by the time I thought I was a good enough Alpha, he was… possessed… He's still struggling with it. He needed the support of his pack, not the burden of this. You know him, you know he would have tried to put on an even braver face, not to worry us, would have forced himself to be stronger for us."

Both Allison and Lydia fell quiet at that. They knew he was right. They'd just been witness to the proof of it. Stiles kept all his pain safely tucked away, forcing himself to be strong for others. Peter and Chris had thought they did the right thing, didn't burden him with this.

"We need to go and talk to him, we need to explain this," Chris declared.

"You will not."

The four of them turned toward the door as Derek walked in, a dark expression on his face. Peter growled at his nephew, flashing his eyes red. But Derek flashed his eyes right back at the Alpha, growling, baring his fangs. Ready to fight. That was exactly what Lydia had wanted to avoid, any of the more volatile wolves to try and challenge the Alpha on Stiles' behalf.

"You will not keep me from my mate," Peter snarled.

"You kept yourself from your mate," Derek growled back. "You should have told him. You really thought Stiles wouldn't figure it out on his own? Stiles?"

Peter backed off at that, looking tormented. "I just… We'll explain it to him, we'll make up for it."

"But not right now," Derek raised his chin. "I asked him, if there is anything I can do to help him, and he asked me for time. He doesn't want to see anyone right now, much less you two. He earned the right to deal with what just happened, what's just been taken from him. You two didn't tell him for two years, you'll be able to wait three more days to talk to him. He asked for the weekend."

Lydia snorted and shook her head. "He didn't even ask for a full week."

"You know him," Derek huffed. "He's going to spend the weekend compartmentalizing and shoving his feelings back down where he usually keeps them locked up. And then he'll continue pretending that he's fine. I think he mostly asked for the weekend in hopes that we will do the same."

"Probably," Lydia conceded with a frown. "We will have to talk to the betas about this. We all should talk about this, together, so we can deal with our feelings on the matter on our own and don't put that on him too."

"Tomorrow," Allison nodded. "We'll have a pack-meeting tomorrow and talk this through."

Chris' eyes were on Peter and it was a testimony to how guilty Peter must be feeling that he let the three of them just decide this. Not that it was a bad decision. Chris reached out for his mate.

/break\

Peter was frustrated and annoyed. The pack had pretty much given him and Chris a verbal lashing for two days. Both Saturday and Sunday, they kept telling them off for not telling Stiles and picking apart their stupid reasons. They weren't wrong. Peter knew that himself.

He regretted not claiming the boy when he had first met him, but he'd been too feral. What little rational brain he had had been afraid that he would hurt his mate, so he kept Stiles at a distance. And then Stiles had helped kill him and Peter needed to earn the boy's trust first. And then, well…

"You ready for this, love?" Chris asked, holding Peter's hand.

It was Monday evening. They knew the sheriff was out. They also knew Stiles would be home. Allison, Cora and Isaac had told them Stiles had been at school. And that the betas had all wrapped him up in a puppy pile for the entire lunch break, apparently.

"Are you two going to stand there all night, or are you coming in? Door's open."

Both Chris and Peter startled and looked up at Stiles, who was leaning out of his bedroom window and regarding them with a near detached look, bordering bored. Peter hated that. He hated that Stiles felt the need to put up walls with them now. They'd been past that for so long.

Peter gave Chris' hand a tight squeeze before the both of them stepped into the Stilinski home and made their way upstairs to Stiles' bedroom. The boy was sitting on his window-sill, hands in his pockets, a guarded expression on his face as he regarded them.

"I didn't mean to say any of that," Stiles started before they had a chance to even say hello. "I didn't want you to know that I knew. We've had a great thing going of ignoring the mate-bonds. Let's just… pretend Friday night didn't happen and that I didn't say any of that."

"No, Stiles," Chris shook his head with a grave look on his face. "You didn't want us to know and… and we didn't want you to know, for… various reasons. But now that it's all on the table, we really need to talk about it. Don't sneer at me like that, brat."

Stiles ground his teeth together and raised his chin, much like he had done when facing the Seelie Queen. It made Peter's heart clench. He didn't want Stiles to look at them the same way he looked at the villain of the week. He'd worked so damn hard for over a year to prove he wasn't a villain.

"The last thing you said," Peter spoke softly. "The last 'truth' you shared, it may have been what you perceived as the truth, but… it's not the truth. That's a lie that you told yourself, twisted by… I don't know what would make you think so low of yourself, to be honest…"

"Don't act stupid, Peter, it doesn't suit you," Stiles offered him a cold, calculating glare. "I was possessed by a demon and killed countless people, killed an ally, killed Allison, I… Fuck, half the time I can't even look in the mirror because all I see is the Nogitsune."

He wrapped his arms around himself and stared down at his shoes. Looking so much more small and fragile than Peter was comfortable seeing him. His little Spark should be a spitfire of snark and sarcasm, loud and in everyone's face. Not withdrawn.

"We thought you should focus on healing," Chris offered in a reluctant voice. "You pulled away so much and we were scared that if we told you, you would only withdraw even more. You had so much to deal with, we didn't want to be something else you had to deal with."

"And before that?" Stiles raised his eyes to glare at the hunter, then at Peter. "And before that?"

"We're old enough to be your fathers," Chris sighed, rubbing his face. "You are literally in the same class as both of our daughters. When Peter told me, when Peter and I got together, I… How could you want us? You had a choice, the same way I did, because we're human, and I thought that you should have the chance at a normal life, normal teenage high school romance, instead of being stuck with two middle-aged, fucked up soulmates who were both scrambling to get their shit together."

"You… I didn't tell you when I came back from the dead, because I thought I had to become someone worthy of you first. You did kill me," Peter pointed out, causing Stiles to flinch. "I don't hold that against you, but I thought that you did. I thought you would resent me if I told you that oh yeah the guy who turned your best friend into a werewolf and mauled your first love is your soulmate, lucky you! You're not the only one who has doubts, Stiles. I'm sorry we hurt you, I truly am, but we didn't tell you out of the same reasons that you never told us. Because clearly you knew too, you knew about our bond but you never brought it up either – because you thought that we didn't want you. You're a clever boy, I need you to consider that maybe we had the same fears."

Stiles stared at them, with a fragile hope in his eyes. "I didn't… I felt it. Ever since I first connected with my Spark, got my magic, I've been able to feel the mate-bonds. And I didn't… I didn't think you would want to be stuck with an obnoxious brat like me, and then, well, then the Nogitsune happened. Are you… I need you to tell me, promise me, that you're not just saying this now, out of pity, because you're forced to confront this. I can't have hope and see it crushed."

"We had every intention of telling you, once you turned eighteen," Chris promised, his eyes a silent plea on top of his words. "We wanted you to have a… well, what constitutes a normal high school experience in this town, and then we wanted to tell you. When you're a legal adult, which would have also eased some of my worries, Stiles. But we always planned on telling you, we never meant to keep the bond from you. It's not something we are ashamed of or don't want. You are not something we are ashamed of or don't want."

Something in Stiles' posture eased and he started shaking just a little. Peter and Chris were at his side in two quick strides, Peter to his left and Chris to his right. They held their boy close, held him while he cried. He clung onto them both, sobbing into their chests.

"I never blamed you for what happened to Allison," Chris whispered, brushing a kiss against Stiles' head. "And neither does she. Neither do any of us. We all know it was the demon, it was using you. It wasn't you. You were a victim of it too, Stiles."

Stiles held onto them even tighter, shaking with tears. Peter nuzzled his neck.

"Our pack loves you so much, Stiles," Peter chuckled. "They all, individually, and as a group, threatened us. They were fully ready for a mutiny on your behalf. What you said at the court, that regardless of who the Alpha is, these are your betas? That was the truth. I can't believe you've been Pack Mom of my pack and I didn't even notice because I was too busy being smitten with you."

"Smitten," Stiles echoed, sniffling a little. "Nobody says smitten, you're so cheesy, Peter."

"He's also smitten with you though. Me? I am being much more mature and normal about it."

"Oh please," Peter gave him a pointed glare over Stiles' head. "You completely lost it the last time he used a gun against that rogue omega. You fully lost it because that was 'so hot, Peter, so hot'."

Stiles blinked up at them with those big doe eyes of his before he started laughing softly. He leaned into them more comfortably and placed shy kisses on both their lips, making them relax too. And in that moment, Peter thought that maybe they could be okay, together. Heal, together.

~*~ The End ~*~

[foxgirlintestines]

The one piece of advice I can really give to younger trans girls is that you really need to embrace the parts about you that you actually liked pre-transition. There is often that crushing weight of gloom and self loathing that comes with severe dysphoria that tells you that everything about you is wrong, but that can just your mind being clouded with negative emotions, and it becomes harder to see the positives. In the end, though, you probably aren't going to become a perfect barbie doll, and that's ok, but striving to become something like that can drive you crazy.

When I first transitioned, I just wanted to be a girl, no ambiguity, just look like a stereotype. It was never really possible, I'm almost 6 and a half feet tall, and the women in my family are not thin, when I got on estrogen I gained weight fast, and it did not go to all the right places. I wallowed in bed a lot, and I just kind of kept getting worse. Oddly enough, it was getting into fetish content where less standard body types were lusted after more than regular anime proportion waifus where I started to see some of the more positive aspects of being amab. I was tall, strong, could be threatening and having a big squishy gut was actually quite attractive. I started to remember things about me when I was younger that I kind of pushed out of my mind. I was the "guy" who would run the mile in PE then casually walk along-side my friends and keep them company so that they didn't get teased, and one time I picked up my overweight friend and just carried her the last bit of the way because she was exhausted and the teacher couldn't really do anything about it because even as a young teenager I towered over him. In theater when there were heavy props to move I just lifted them up and tossed them around when we didn't have grip present. When we were out drinking in college, I was the "safety" who intimidated people so they would not try and take advantage of the drunk girls. I am big, and even if is not very feminine, I like that about me.

I changed my transition goals, I started working out again, not just cardio exercises to lose weight, but weightlifting, squats while holing a barbell, throwing around a medicine ball, and doing laps around my backyard while holding a ~150lb dead tree I ripped out of the ground while doing yardwork on my shoulder. I got healthier, I got happier, and much to my new endocrinologist's chagrin I've been gaining more weight, though now it's muscle. There are still plenty of things that I changed to be feminine, I wear my hair long, I wear girly clothes, often cute shirts with open tops that show off my large arms shoulders and cleavage, and mini-skirts. I put on make-up, lots of bold goth get-ups with heavy eyeliner black lipstick and glittery deep grey eyeshadow. Long painted nails, jewelry, hell sometimes a sparkly rhinestone tiara when I really want to ham it up, cute open toe heels when not wearing my big stompy boots, and of course the biggest one (pun intended) my massive boobs that I got the largest implants legal to be used in the US to make me busty as hell. I don't look like a barbie, and I no longer want to. I'm to the point that people often don't know whether to call me sir or ma'am, but the fact that people say sir or ma'am meekly like they are afraid of getting it wrong is way better gender confirmation than being called "lady."

I am happy now, well, at least happy with my body, there is plenty of shit in the world that still makes me depressed as hell. At least I no longer feel that dysphoria, and it makes those other things a bit more manageable. I think even if I did achieve my original transition goals, I would not be as happy with my body as I am now. You got to find that about yourself too, sometimes you will actually miss things about who you used to be, even if those times were overall worse.

As a silly little comparison, these two pictures of my fursona (which reflect my ideal body type) were made before and after I accepted the things about my body that I didn't want to change.