Chase Trinaeste POV Shepherds of Haven fic? Yeah………….. Chase x MC fic? Yeah.......
And another friend’s OC is also mentioned in here? …..Yeah…………… dw about it..........
Listen though. L-listen:
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You gotta learn to braid.
Thinking about it, your head is immediately gifted with images of him irritatedly brushing it out in the morning and chewing you out for bad technique. Better yet, he wears it to breakfast, thinks it’s good, and then chews you out only after Trouble makes some no-brained comment and he looks in a mirror for the first time. After all, you’ve got nimble fingers, makes sense to assume you were trustable.
Rock’s head is in your lap.
And his hair is going everywhere, and he’s always clearly taken his time with it (at your best guess he uses five different products at least), so that’s why you’re thinking about it. Don’t people with long hair sleep with braids, sometimes? Lavinet would probably teach you, and do you the favor of not announcing that you’re about to use your skills for evil.
He’s been like this since about five in the morning. You’re a light sleeper. As needs be, you rise either with the sunset or with the sun. Or elsewise, if you’ve got to— you have what some might call an uncanny sense for a well-timed catnap.
So you’re up again, working out the couple little kinks in your back from dozing upright like that. It’s another of the perks of the job: learn to sleep anywhere. You have a lot of little resume filler skills like that, just a tragic lack of resume to put it on. Idly, you wonder over the nonsensical notion of putting one together for the Order once your writing gets good enough to, and you’re kind of attached to the idea now. Blade wouldn’t read it, especially considering you’re already in, but there’s some small giddy joy you get out of the idea of putting it in his possession anyway. Maybe Trouble would read it. Maybe Shery would think it’s juicy enough that she can’t keep her hands off it, and then roll in the guilt about it for a few weeks after. ...No, you can’t do that to her. Funny as that is, she could read with permission. You might be cruel, but she’s a horrible choice of target.
Anyway— So you’ve been watching him be like this since about five in the morning, and thus have evidence of him being like this since about five in the morning. You remember falling asleep late last night, though. Waiting for him to drift first. It was probably one, two AM.
When six-thirty rolls around, you’ll have to wake him, you have a bright and early morning dose of espionage on the schedule today (it’s why the two of you are all the way out here, plus Lavinet and Ottilie graciously hosted in another wing) and you can’t have a grouchy Hero of Haven who hasn’t had a good hour or more awake to put his silver tongue back on.
Something something joke about that tongue’s many talents.
Head in lap is a surprise at all. It’s one of those things— Rock has done this thing to you where all your defenses are the ones that keep coming down first.
It feels a little like getting grifted. When you’ve caught onto a grift, though, and you’re playing along to see what or whom or where they take you to, you don’t feel like you’re in danger, because you’re good. You’re in as much danger as you want to be, or more like: when there are unpredictable variables, you know more or less where they’re going. Rock makes you feel like you’re teetering on the edge of something you don’t fucking play with, and it doesn’t help that he likes to open his mouth sometimes just to remind you you’re rolling off a cliff.
Anyway. Then you get this, and you wanna be a charming shit about it, as usual (and you intend to), you just also wonder how much he’s falling off a cliff.
He gets bad nightmares. You know that because of the trip to the Reach. You do also know it because of the tightness in Blade’s lip when you mentioned it offhand later— there’s history there; they’ve been worse than that. You also know it because you picked the brains of a couple recruits who were standing around griping after Trouble sent them for something like twenty laps around the compound (not a real intuitive head for numbers on that man): apparently, it was Captain Nomura they’d been gossiping about, and Trouble was a hardass about it.
It’s the one thing that makes you feel borderline… even. If not even, then at least okay with it.
That’s a lie, you’d probably feel okay with it anyway, you got down to being okay with whatever he’s doing to you the minute you realized you were this invested. It’s just something you use to put things in perspective. There are things you didn’t exactly expect to peel open for him, about you. But there are also things he’s not asking to broadcast publicly to every hard-luck-fleer who wanders onto the Shepherds compound to recruit. Rumors about the head of the Thieves Guild abound, but the unflattering ones are usually less true, and the untrue ones abound so plentifully that no one knows heads or tails of that, anyway.
Feels fair he should have secrets from someone. You’re still gonna fucking dig your way into them before they bury him alive, it’s just. Yeah, you haven’t had your brain pulled open onto a projection screen.
So he has nightmares. You’re not actually sure how often. Technically, you don’t have proof they haven’t gotten better since you last heard. But since you’re not bound to the same evidence requirements as a court of law, and since it’s become a roulette game of how grouchy Rock’s gonna be minute-to-minute, he was dodgy about the prospect of rooming with you or anyone on this mission at all, and he’s recently had a god or demon or trick of the light try to tell him (plus all of the rest of you) that he’s less Mage and more something else’s torn out rib, you can look at two plus two plus two and say probably.
You’ve learned how not to dream. It’s basically the same as learning how to wake up when you want to. When you did dream, you dreamt of mutiny, imaginary holes you left and getting torn down through them. You were always yourself in your dreams—some people are characters, tropes, or other people they know, apparently; you wouldn’t know. Now you keep that in the waking world, and you keep ten paces ahead of it.
That’s the thing you’re deadly sure about in him. That he’s keeping ten paces ahead of something. You—your whole tether to his side—account for anything from like one to like eight of them, as far as you can tell. That’s all you know.
…Well that’s the quick way to tell it. He’s keeping ten paces ahead of something inside the Shepherds. Could be Blade, but you’re not sure why. Could be the Autarchy, but that’s too simple for you. Doesn’t feel like it. Could be Ottilie’s God-given plans for a pretty obvious heathen, but your nose also says it’s not that easy.
He looks dead asleep right now. Comfy, you’d kind of go so far as to hope. And anyway you look at his face, still waters, and you’re a little afraid to even brush his hair out of it.
You don’t even know if he meant to lay his head down on you at all, if that’s a cliff he made his shaky peace with (or if it’s a cliff at all, if means anything to him, Hael if you know) or if he was just miserable.
You don’t know if it’s you, like the stillness might be the effect of having another body in the room that he’s willing to lay his head against— …or if maybe he just doesn’t get them every night. Or if there is one under there. But you hope he’s not dreaming.
You try to bask in it, for now. Try to pose like a king with a sweet little kitten in his lap, like a guy painted on the front of a romance novel with the sweet, innocent angel he’s seduced to lay over him, nightgown slipping down her shoulder. You spend an hour with only walls to watch, dutifully still so he can finish sleeping, and it’s only a small handful of times that you have to stop and breathe through a creep of bile up your throat.
Six-thirty hits.
“Good morning, Sunshine.”
“Mmf. What.” Rock spits a strand of hair out of his face. Yeah, you probably could have done him a favor on that instead of leaving it there for him to wake up to. But it’s funny, so, you know. Win-win.
“The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, Ottilie’s slaughtering her morning chicken—” (she is not).
Rock seems to parse the reality of where he is, and peels himself up from you, sitting facing away from you— and then he glances at you over his shoulder, for a moment, and everything about it is horribly, disressingly raw.
He looks at you a little too long. The thing about Rock is his rules are a lot like yours, and you are not supposed to say anything about it, but he’s looking at you, like he’s asking you to, and it lasts a long time.
Then he goes to brush his teeth.
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Just wanted to plant an idea if you wanted a bit of fuel: Mahiru asking Yuno to come to her cell before everything goes down.
Edit: I forgot the ask didn't say it but this is part of Kyanako's incredible Order Of Attack AU!
Didn't mean for this to become a mini Mappi study but here we are ✨ Thank you for the request! I fully intended to write them hanging out, but it's more right before they hang out lol. Went a bit on-the-nose with foreshadowing, but isn't that the fun part? It has become Emotional Over Mahiru Hour...
I kept things vague, but TW for mentioning her boyfriend's state of potential self-harm
Mahiru tried not to act superstitious, she really did. As much as she loved the idea of little luck charms, or avoided easy signs of misfortune, it was easier to keep quiet about such ridiculous things.
Maybe catching a bride’s bouquet meant no guarantees; maybe there was no real harm in stepping underneath ladders, maybe a coin tossed into a fountain had no real magic to its wish. However, the one thing she knew for sure held power was a lucky presence. Being in the right place at the right time could alter everything. And today was the right time for something. There was this waiting in the air. The prison had been holding its breath. Mahiru knew it was time to release it all.
“You must be so lonely, why don’t you let big sis Mahiru keep you company?” She beamed at Amane.
She often recalled the good fortune that she and a certain young man had crossed paths on the university terrace. She used to laugh with him about the wonderful coincidence of bumping into each other outside of the bakery, then the convenience store.
Though she’d never spoken about it to him, she was also grateful for many occasions where she walked in on him at the precise moment to talk him out of something reckless. She always told him that they’d do everything together. He didn’t need to be alone anymore.
“I wish to be alone. I need peace of mind to think.” Amane turned away from the cell door.
It was a good thing, too. Mahiru’s smile wasn’t as convincing as she said, “o-oh. Of course.”
She made her way around the panopticon, hearing Fuuta pace his cell in anticipation. He must have felt it too, this holding of breath.
Or perhaps not. He turned down her offer for a bit of company, including a few more colorful words than Amane had. Mahiru just apologized for bothering him and headed back to her cell. She wasn’t sure where Mikoto was at this hour, but she didn’t feel like smiling through a third rejection.
She shook her head back and forth. She wished the motion could rattle the voices inside, she wished she could shake them all away. With her arms secured in place she could no longer cover her ears. She used to hum to keep them at bay, but lately they’d been too loud to stifle. They just kept on talking.
Their words told her the two were right. Nobody needed her company. No – nobody wanted it. Being together hadn’t helped her boyfriend. In fact, being together had been the very thing that got him killed. No wonder Amane and Fuuta wanted to avoid her.
So then, this was for the best. She would rather deal with the brief sting of refusal than stumble in one day to find them hurt… or worse. As much as she tried to avoid the superstition of it all, the voices reminded her that her very presence could mean life or death.
“Mappi, are you alright?” Mahiru hadn’t realized a tear had slipped down her cheek until she hurried to swipe it away in front of Yuno.
“Hah, I’m fine! Just fine.” It was impossible to fool her, Mahiru had learned, but that never stopped her from trying.
At least she always spoke tactfully. “Rough morning?”
Mahiru shifted her arms in her uniform, making a small sound of agreement.
“Can I do anything to help? What if I stay with you for a bit? I can do your hair, and…”
The voices were right. Amane and Fuuta knew it, too. Presences did hold power, and Mahiru’s was cursed.
But she would sound foolish admitting such a fear to Yuno. She'd heard plenty from the voices about how stupid and airheaded she was, there was no use in getting the same lecture from someone as grounded as her.
Mahiru managed a weak protest, unable to explain her real reasoning. Yuno was insistent. She didn’t give much of a choice. Could she feel the strangeness of the prison, as well?
At last, Mahiru allowed her shoulders to sag. Yuno was lucky. And kind. Having her nearby would do her good. Amane and Fuuta would be alright. Mahiru had tried spending more time with them after verdicts were announced. Now, she made a mental note to pull back. If her love couldn’t save anyone, at least she could spare them from her curse. They would be safe.
“Yes. Please stay. The truth is... I don't want to be alone.”
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harringrove angst (kind of mean steve for those who aren't into that)
thinking of steve and billy having bad fights after starting a relationship, and during those fights steve always brings up the night at the byers.
steve doesn’t really know why he does it, him and billy have made amends, they’re together now and they love each other. except, he kind of does know why he brings it up. it wins him the argument. billy goes quiet and hurt and they don’t fight anymore.
because billy doesn’t want to be like neil, wants to show steve (show everyone) that he’s better. he knows he fucked up, that he’s not perfect and probably never will be, but he thought steve had forgiven him. that they’d forgiven each other, because steve apologized to him too. and how can billy bring that up without looking like he’s making excuses? can’t say you hit me too or you know what happened before with my dad or what was i supposed to think about what i found?
eventually steve does it so much that they stop fighting completely. and, yeah, steve no longer has to deal with the arguments, he and billy don’t scream at each other until they’re both in tears anymore. it’s the best they’ve gotten along since they got together or, well, ever.
but he’s also lost the shy smiles billy gives him when it’s just the two of them, and the little laugh that billy is embarrassed of, the one that hiccups out of him and scrunches up his nose. and, most importantly, he’s lost the quiet nights where billy opens up to him, about the abuse from his dad, and how he felt when his mom left, how much he misses her and how he wishes she’d loved him enough to take him with her.
maybe steve starts getting angrier, and more hurt as time goes on and billy doesn’t open back up. he decides that if billy is going to withhold things from him, steve should start being able to take things from billy too. they still have sex, billy still sighs into steve’s neck when steve slides into him but steve starts not kissing billy, turning his head away when billy tries, turning billy on his belly when billy gets too persistent. leaves billy to clean up by himself as soon as they’re done rather than stay in bed holding each other, enjoying the afterglow together like they’ve always done before. stops taking billy out with him when he hangs out with the party or the other teens, stops telling billy when he goes out at all.
and so, the resentment starts to build up, for both of them, and they’re right back where they started, fighting and screaming at each other. but neither of them will leave. they love each other, after all. steve refuses to have another failed relationship, because what does that say about steve? that he isn’t good enough, loveable enough, worthy enough, just not ever enough. and as much as billy doesn’t want to be like neil, he also doesn’t really want to be like his mom either. doesn’t want to abandon steve like his mom abandoned him, knows how it affected him, how it made him feel, and he won’t do that to someone he cares about.
so they stay stuck in this endless cycle because maybe steve loves billy and billy loves steve, but they don’t always like each other, and they definitely don’t trust each other.
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