#I want to put him in a jar and shake him around like a bug

[peepoo79]

Silly Jon doodles :3

[lunatic-fandom-space]

Idk if i ever really talked about rudolf: affaire mayerling after i finished watching it, but ive been thinkinh about it again so I guess Im doing that now

Honestly I didnt like it very much, I feel like the worst parts of any frank wildhorn musical are whenever theres a a really slow boring lovesong and in those took up like half the score here, which is a shame because I do remember liking a lot of the non-lovesong songs, although I cant really remember a lot of them. Like, pretty mich the only songs from this musical that I can remember are Du bleibst bei mir, Fäden in der Hand and Mein süßer Held because surprise surprise, the sick freak whose favorite musical is the one where they romanticise suicide likes the song from a different musical where they compare suicide to sex

But anyway, thats not the reason I was thinking about this musical again, the reason I was thinkkng about it again was that other than me not liking the songs, I also found it hard to enjoy because I could not for the life of me tell the characters apart, and for the longest time I couldnt figure out why because i usually dont struggle with face blindness at all, but I think i figured it out

Its because I didnt wanna look at the screen whenever rudolf was onstage because he just made me cringe that much. Did anyone else experience something like that? Like, i dont think its just because the actor didnt have charisma or chemistry the other actors because I feel like it was so severe that Im like "theres no way someone can naturally be that rizzless and cringe, they had to have intended for him to come across like that and done something to make him as pitiful as possible" but the thing that throws me off is the fact that i cant figure out what exactly makes him so cringeworthy to me, like Im pretty sure he just acted like a normal guy, i dont remember him actually doing anything that would make me hate looking at him, he was just so naturally unbearable idk what it is

[links-in-time]

Sword and Dagger

This fic is for @mmelete and anyone else who wants to see some reconciliation and comfort between Legend and Warriors. They are two of my favourite LU boys and I wish they got along more in people's fics.

------------------------~~~------------------------

"LEGEND!" Warriors voice rang out across the camp.

A smile curled the corner of the Vet's mouth as he continued adding wood to the fire. He managed to surpress his laughter. This was going to be hilarious.

The stomping of boots grew louder as Wars stormed across the clearing towards where Legend was kneeling by the fire. Something solid collided with Legend's shoulder, hard and fast. He dropped the last branch he had been holding and clutched at his arm. Looking down he saw the offending projectile. A squat brown glass jar filled with clear gel.

"Ouch!" Legend grunted, rubbing furiously at his new bruise. "What the fuck?!"

"What the fuck?" Wars echoed, turning the question back on Legend.

Around the clearing the rest of the boys couldn't help but stop what they were doing and turn their attention to this latest argument. Time let out a sigh and rubbed at his brow before turning back to his journal. Wild continued chopping vegetables for dinner. He hated it when the others were fighting, it made his anxiety spike and he would rather be literally anywhere else in the world when his brothers were at each others throats.

Four, Hyrule and Sky pretended to carry on with their own activities. Still keeping an eye on the argument about to break out by the fire. Wind was mercifully down by the stream, and hopefully out of earshot of the screaming match that had already begun. While Twilight was out on patrol.

"You arse! You put glue in my hair gel!" Wars bellowed, pointing accusingly down at Legend. His other fist balled and shaking at his side.

Time couldn't help but flick his eye up from his journal to Warriors. He also couldn't help the minute smile which crept upon his lips. Wars' hair, which was usually kept almost immaculate, was a mess. The left side was stuck down so flat it almost followed the shape of his skull. While the right side was stuck up in the air at odd angles. He looked like he'd been caught in a sudden gust of wind. Except there was no breeze. Only a livid scowl and the pointing finger which refused to leave its mark.

"You mean your hair CAN look even more stupid than normal?" Legend replied nonchalantly. His eyes remaining on the fire.

"You little shit! Now my comb is clogged up with glue and hair and I'm gonna have to get a new one, thank you very much! Not to mention what a pain in the arse this is going to be to clean out. What the hell man? What did I do to you?!"

Warriors continued to berate, oblivious to anyone except the object of his fury.

It wasn't really about his hair. Well, it was almost certainly about his hair. But Wars wasn't as vain as people liked to assume he was. Just because he was considered more handsome than most, didn't mean he was constantly preening himself. Sure he liked to look neat and presentable, but that was mostly from a life spent in the army. A soldier could be seriously disciplined for failing to dress correctly or for having scruffy hair. Every soldier was a representative of Hyrule itself. So heaven forbid that Wars always took care in making sure he was the best goddess damned image of Hyrule he could muster.

His real bug-bare was why Legend seemed to have singled him out for his pranks and jibes. Legend teased Wars for his good looks constantly. Not that Wars thought any of the others was less good looking than himself. Perhaps the Vet hadn't seen himself in a mirror for a while. If it wasn't his looks or his scarf, it was his military service, or his rank, or his loyalty to the crown. Legend could turn any trait of Warriors' into a snide remark aimed just right to get under the Captain's skin. Wars sometimes wondered if it was actually some special talent of Legend's. Like a little dagger specifically designed to be able to pick someone apart all the while laughing at them.

"Oh no, you'll have to spend some of that soldiers wage you keep bragging about!" Legend scoffed, batting the pot of gel and glue away from himself.

"What?" Wars shook his head in surprise. This was not the reaction he thought he was going to get. "Since when have I bragged about my wages?"

Wars finally looked around the camp at the rest of the heroes. Sky unfortunately managed to catch his eye and Wars latched onto his gaze.

"Sky, I don't brag about money, do I?" He asked furvently, still radiating rage and confusion.

"Um, well," Sky stammered, shrinking under Wars' intense gaze. "Not as such. But you're kind of the only one of us with an actual job."

Wars processed that for a second. He'd never considered soldiering to be a job, but it did come with a regular pay packet. So far as he could tell the only one of them who got payed for work was the Smithy. Four was an accomplished blacksmith with his own business. He had to make a decent amount of money for the work he produced. So that couldn't be the only reason Legend had singled Wars out. This couldn't be about money.

"Four has a job!" Wars pointed out.

"Hey, leave me out of this," Four stated firmly. "This is between you and Lege, figure it out without pointing fingers at the rest of us."

Four kept his eyes on the sword he was polishing, but Sky noticed they took on a verdent green hew as he spoke. He wanted to ask about it, but knew now was definitely not the time to be starting other conversations.

"Yeah Captain, why don't you pick on someone your own size!" Legend barked, drawing Warriors attention again.

"Pick on..? You're not that short!" Wars spat back.

"Oh so I am short, but not that short!" Legend retorted.

"Come on boys, please knock it off," Time groaned.

He tipped his head back against the tree behind him and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Your screaming match is giving me a headache. Plus I can't imagine anything living within a mile radius of this camp is thanking you either." Time said with a sigh.

"But he..." Wars began, but Time put up a hand to stop him talking.

"Legend, apologise for your prank," Time insisted, fixing Legend with his one eyed stare.

Legend flicked his gaze away to the ground, avoiding the Old Man's piercing eye.

"M'sorry," he grumbled under his breath.

"Right," Time nodded.

"Really, that's an acceptable apology to you?!" Wars scoffed.

"Wars, I'll buy you a new comb and gel in the next town we find. And in the morning I'll help you wash the glue out of your hair. Alright?"

Time turned his gaze onto Wars, who knew from the look on his face that it was going to be alright whether he liked it or not.

"Fine!" Wars turned on the spot and walked decisively towards his bed roll.

He picked it up and dragged it a few metres further away from the fire and set it down with a resounding thump. Wars quickly shucked his armour and his mail and tunic, before shoving himself under his blankets and all but throwing his head onto his pillow.

The rest of the Chain didn't hear a single peep out of their Captain for the rest of the night. Sulking or sleeping, no one had the courage to go and find out. At one point Hyrule asked Legend if he felt bad about how far his prank had gone.

"He deserves being taken down a peg every now and then." Was his response.

But even as he said the words, Legend felt no real emotion behind them. No truth. He'd taken a strange disliking to the Captain not long after they'd all met. He was rigid and calculating. Absurd in the attention he gave to his looks and infuriating in the way that he never deviated from a plan. Legend felt no spark of curiosity or adventure when he took a peek at Wars' aura. His magic felt strong like the rest of the Links, but it also felt tame and rigid. As though it had been pushed into a box which was too small.

Of all the Links in his company, Wars was the one he just couldn't figure out. And the one who reminded him the most of some of the worst days of his life. So he lashed out. Made jokes at his expense, played pranks he knew would get a rise out of the Captain, because it was a laugh. And what else was he supposed to do with someone who was as stiff as a board?

***

Time didn't get a chance to clean Warriors hair. Hyrule woke everyone up in the middle of his watch to the news that a portal had appeared not far from their camp. He'd felt the unique magical signature the moment it appeared and quickly ran to see what had happened. The dark swirl of black and purple bridged the space between two trees. A void deadening all light and sound around it.

Hyrule had hurried back to camp and quickly roused everyone. Unusually, Wars was the last man to finish packing his gear. And he was at the back of the line as they broke camp and followed Hyrule towards the new portal. While no one could see him, Wars attempted to flatten down the worst parts of his hair, but with little to no success. The glue had done a fine job and he'd worked it through so thoroughly with his comb, that it perfectly coated his hair. Forcing it into its current state. He let out a defeated sigh and trudged through the forest without taking much notice of his surroundings.

The shady woodland was soon replaced by the now familiar unsettling feeling of being pulled through a dark place. Wars had the uncontrollable sensation of nausia and dizziness which was concurrent with a portal jump. He was one of the few who suffered the least from time jumps, but he counted himself lucky. Wind and Four often verged on passing out after walking through a portal. While Hyrule could be left feeling dizzy and disoriented for up to an hour. Not helpful if there was danger waiting on the other side.

As the blackness faded away and the sickening sensations passed, Wars felt the bitter chill of icy weather biting at his skin. He looked up and had to blink twice before he believed what he was seeing.

Everything was white.

Everything except the red, blue and streak of pink hair in the near distance, which could only be Legend.

Wars grumbled, wrapping his arms around himself as he shoved his chin into his scarf. This was not going to be a pleasant day.

"Cap?" Legend howled over the rushing of the wind pelting his ears.

His hair flew every which way and he held onto his cap to prevent it being tugged off his head. His tunic whipped around his bare knees and he winced against the sting of the snow as it hit his exposed legs. Surely the Captain would tease him for not wearing trousers at some point.

The Captain! Legend suddenly thought with a jolt. Where in Din's name was everyone else?

"Captain!" He called again.

Wars wasn't very far away, but still Legend's voice sounded like a whisper rather than a holler. Squinting against the driving snow and leaning into the wind Wars trudged towards the colourful blob in front of him.

"I can hear you Legend. Where's everyone else?" He called in reply.

"No clue. They were right with us when we went through the portal."

Wars heard something about Legend not having a clue. (Nothing new there) And the portal.

"Great," Wars sighed.

This wasn't the first time the Chain had been separated by portal jumps before. Usually they were only split up by a short distance. They never settled on a plausible theory as to why this happened, though Wars had some pretty convincing ideas of his own. However, upon a quick scan of the surrounding empty countryside, Wars couldn't discern any other notable figures in the landscape. Legend and he supposed he himself, were the only dots of colour in an otherwise colourless world.

The snow storm showed no signs of blowing over and even tall trees had been mostly hidden by the onslaught of snow and ice. When Wars reached Legend, his next move would be to look for shelter. Hopefully the sour veteran would be cooperative enough to help rather than hinder Warriors efforts to keep them both alive.

"Looks like we got split up again. And we don't have Wild or the Sailor with us to contact anyone. We need to find shelter or we'll both catch our deaths in this cold." Wars said through chattering teeth.

Legend shuddered at the thought of just trying to walk through the thick snow around them. He could already feel the chill in his core as he pulled his hat down over his ears, and shoved his hands under his armpits to keep his fingers from freezing.

"Any suggestions?" He uttered, struggling to breath with lungs full of ice.

"Let's walk downhill," Wars decided, trying to think logically while his brain was telling him to just stop and get warm. "The cold will be less intense if we reach a lower altitude, and there's more likely to be shelter the lower we go. If we stay up here on the hill tops we'll freeze to death."

"Downhill it is then," Legend nodded.

Wars raised an eyebrow at how easily Legend had followed his suggestion. But he didn't dare question it unless Legend suddenly decided to have an argument about it.

"You want me to go ahead or behind?" He asked.

"You can cut through the deep snow easier than I can, you go first."

"Right."

"Plus, if you fall in a hole I'll know not to step there!" Legend snorted.

"Right," Wars said flatly.

So they began their slow slog down the hill. The wind was mercifully behind them, but still bitterly cold. Wars took a leaf out of Legend's book and pulled his old hat out of his bag. He tugged it tight down over his ears and tucked the end into his scarf so it wouldn't flap about. Wars could feel his steel mail freezing but there wasn't anything he could do about that now. His undershirt would keep it from touching his skin, but it wouldn't do anything to keep him warm. He just preyed they would find some kind of shelter and soon.

They walked for what felt like hours before the ground began to level out. The trees became a more frequent sight and though the storm was still raging, even a meagre tree cover was better than nothing.

"We could stop and make a fire here?" Wars suggested, looking about at the tall pines around them.

"Our stuff will just get wet if we stop here. We should keep looking for shelter. A cave or a cabin or something," Legend replied with a shake of his head. Though it could have just been from the cold.

"How d'you know there'll be one?"

"I don't, but... I'd rather keep looking than stop here and freeze. At least if we're moving we're keeping some sort of body heat." Legend explained.

"Me maybe, aren't you freezing?" Wars scoffed, eyeing Legend's bare legs which looked raw and red.

"Yeah I am, thanks for reminding me!"

"Sorry, I was just thinking you might want to stop?" Wars remarked.

"Because I'm small and fragile?" Legend snorted.

"What? NO?" Wars balked. "Because you're wearing less clothes and you're more likely to die more quickly of exposure than I am."

"It's not a competition Captain!" Legend hissed over his shoulder as he continued to walk in front of Wars. "Besides, I'm far more adaptive than you anyway. Who's to say who would win that competition?!"

"It's not a competition to see who dies first either Lege!" Wars sighed, hurrying to stay with the turbulent Vet.

Their argument died as they continued to walk through the snow covered forest. Icicles hung ominously from tree branches over head. Wind whipped through the trees, shaking loose drifts of snow. The only sounds were the howling of the wind, and their laboured breathing as the two boys marched through the snow drifts.

"Hut!" Legend exclaimed.

Wars head shot up at the sound and looked ahead. A squat wooden structure sat among the trees just a few yards away from them. Legend immediately took off towards it, with Wars only a few steps behind him. The veteran hero threw his shoulder into the door as he turned the handle, but there was less resistance than he had anticipated and the door swung open freely.

It was an extremely modest dwelling and it clearly hadn't been used for some time. There was a single cot in one corner. A fireplace set into the back wall and boarded up windows on the opposing sides.

"I'll be damned, maybe the gods do love us after all," Legend sighed, as he spotted a stack of logs in the corner by the fire.

Warriors quickly shut the door behind them and hefted his pack onto the floor beside the bed. His first instinct was to leave some kind of sign for the others telling them where they were. If this storm didn't break soon, the two of them might find themselves stuck for a while. If the others came looking, Warriors wanted them to find him and Legend as soon as possible.

He pulled out a pouch of berries Wild had picked for him and stared at it, turning the object over in his mind. The colour would stand out against the stark surroundings, but he doubted the juice would stick to the door of the hut on its own. Another thought wormed it's way into his mind and he groaned at how good his idea was.

Wars searched for his old pot of hair gel and found it in his pocket of useless objects he kept meaning to throw away. He opened the lid and was relieved to find it hadn't completely hardened. Wars crushed a few of the berries into the jar and mashed the mixture together with his fingers. When the gel-glue had turned a vivid pink colour, he quickly left the hut.

"Hey! Where are you...?"

Wars heard Legend say as he pulled the door open and quickly used his fingers to write on the outside of the wooden door. It was rough and untidy. But his makeshift paint did the job. The bright pink of the berries having the desired affect. Wars spelled out the quickest and easiest thing he could think of before letting too much cold back into the hut. After he was finished he quickly washed his hands off with some snow, closed the door and threw the jar of paint back into his pack.

"What was that about?" Legend asked incredulously.

Wars sighed contently as he saw the fire blooming into life behind Legend. But he swallowed before answering his question.

"I was leaving a sign for the others in case they come looking for us. Hopefully someone will be able to see it even if they don't notice the hut right away."

"Huh, that's actually pretty smart," Legend nodded, turning to throw some more kindling onto his tender flames.

"Did you just call me smart?" Wars jibed.

"I called you pretty smart, you know, the same way seagulls are pretty smart," Legend scoffed, avoiding Warriors gaze.

"Right."

Wars shook his head and turned back to his pack. He pulled out his bed roll and set it on the floor beside the fire. Legend waisted no time settling himself onto it and rubbing at his legs to stimulate some warmth. Wars pulled out his blanket and pillow and some spare shirts to replace the one he was wearing. It would be wet with both sweat and snowmelt and would quickly make him cold if he didn't change it soon. Speaking of.

"Hey, um, Legend," Wars said tentatively. Hating himself for the next words about to come out of his mouth. "Can you help me for a minute?"

"Help you with what?" Legend groaned.

"I can't take my armour or my mail off, they're too cold to touch. Can you put some gloves on and help me?" He asked, trying to convey as much sincerity in his voice and expression as he could muster.

Legend let out the longest sigh Wars had ever heard. But still, the Vet pushed himself to his feet and crossed the cabin to where Wars stood.

"Well?" He asked impatiently.

Wars quickly found an old pair of gloves in his pack (not fingerless ones) and handed them to Legend. Although Wars had to point Legend in the right direction a couple of times, Legend quickly helped Wars take off his pauldron and laid it on the floor near the fire for it to warm up. His tunic came off with ease but his mail was more difficult. Legend managed to buch it up around Warriors shoulders, then got him to bed over and slid the whole shirt off onto the floor over his head.

"Well that's just insanely stupid!" Legend scoffed, as he picked up the heavy lump of clinking metal.

"It's saved my life more times than I can count," Wars retorted, trying to shake out his hair before rembering he couldn't.

Legend layed the mail shirt out on the other side of the fire and Wars wondered at the care which the Vet showed to something he clearly disapproved of.

"Why don't you just try not to get hit. Then you wouldn't have to wear something so heavy?" He proffered.

"Is that why you stopped wearing trousers?" Wars remarked in return.

"Touche."

Wars quickly undressed and pulled two clean shirts over his shivering body. He wanted to put his tunic back on as another layer, but that was pretty wet as well. The garment and his scarf, joined his armour by the fire and he settled for pulling a blanket around his shoulders instead.

Legend scooted along the bed roll slightly to let Wars sit down in front of the fire. The warmth hit him in a similar way to the snow. His face and hands tingled as his skin came back to life.

"Ahhh," Wars couldn't help the sigh which escaped him. "Nice work getting the fire going."

Legend looked at him sideways but decided not to turn the simple statement into an argument.

"Thanks, and you're welcome by the way, for helping you out."

"Thanks for that, I'm usually alright doing it by myself. But, I've known people who touched frozen mail before and ended up with the pattern burned into their skin by the cold." Wars explained, his expression turning pensive as his memories trickled into his mind.

"Huh, yeah that would suck." Legend nodded.

Legend finally decided to take off his hat and tunic and let them dry out alongside Warriors clothes. He found his own blanket and draped it over his knees. After that the pair fell into an uncomfortable silence as their bodies began to warm. They could hear the storm raging on outside their little bubble of calm, but the hut was fairly draft free. Plus there were enough logs to keep them going for at least a few days if necessary.

Wars didn't want to sit in silence. He'd hated the periods of his life when he hadn't been able to talk. Since being with the rest of the Chain he felt like he could speak his mind or his emotions freely, and without reprisal. For the first time in a long time he had almost felt understood, among other people like himself. But then there was Legend. The impenetrable wall of stoicism and spite. It wasn't that they just didn't get on, they were totally different people. And it was infuriatingly difficult for the two of them to see eye to eye. Two heroes of Hyrule, both forged though danger and courage to defend their kingdoms. A sword and a dagger, both deadly weapons, weilded in very different ways.

To Wars' great surprise Legend was the first to break their silence.

"I am sorry about your hair," Legend uttered. If not for their complete quiet, Wars didn't think he would have even noticed the teen had spoken.

"Then why'd you do it?" Wars asked, pulling the blanket tighter around himself.

"I dunno, thought it would be funny I guess. And it was kinda funny. But after that you were just cross and I knew everyone else would be cross at me for doing it. So, I dunno." Legend shrugged, turning his face away so Wars couldn't see his own confusion.

"Have I done something to make you mad at me for some reason? If I have it definitely wasn't intentional Legend," Wars questioned, searching Legend's posture for some kind of response.

"No, that's not..." Legend tried to push some words out his mouth. But his brain and his lips weren't complying with one another.

Why was he even trying to explain himself to the Captain of all people? He wouldn't understand even if Legend could organise his thoughts. He just knew he wouldn't. So why try at all?

"Forget I even said anything alright. You clearly don't know how to accept an apology."

Just like that Wars watched Legend's walls close in and his mask slip back into place. He radiated the energy of a feral animal, terrified something would come near him. Wars hovered beside him, torn between trying to comfort his friend, and dropping the issue altogether. The hero inside him couldn't bare to do the latter, so he grit his teeth and pushed on.

"Lege, do you hate me?" He asked softly, ready to take the answer he was anticipating.

That made Legend lift his head and face Warriors. A frown creased his brow.

"No, of course I don't hate you?" He said. "Why would you think I hate you?"

"I don't know, the relentless teasing. Hiding my stuff, the glue. You're constantly on my case. It's like you're trying to rile me up so much that I don't want to be with the group any more." Wars rambled on until he had said more than he meant to.

"You don't want to be with the group anymore?" Legend's frown deepend.

"No, I mean yes." Wars sighed, this was coming out all wrong. "Of course I want to be with the group. You boys mean the world to me. But I just get the feeling I don't mean anything to you. Or if I do it's not a good feeling. And that hurts Legend. Everything you do, I know it's little things and if they weren't so often I could brush them aside and maybe even laugh at them. But what you're doing to me, it really hurts. And I don't know why else you'd hurt me if you didn't hate me."

Wars closed his eyes and curled in on himself, his fingers dug into the blanket, knuckles turning while. He only realised he was crying when he felt a drop slip down onto his lip.

Legend sat stock still. He was so stunned he had to give himself a mental slap across the face and grab hold of the situation in front of him. The Captain, Warriors, their chief planner and strategist, his brother, thought he hated him.

"I don't, hate you," he said slowly.

Goddesses he was terrible with emotions. Turns out he was terrible at reading certain people too. Legend thought Warriors was all stoicism and army and, 'look at me aren't I so smart and better than every one!' How could he have got it so wrong.

He knew how.

Months of being hunted by royal soldiers haunted his nightmares. Days and nights spent on the run, accused of a crime he hadn't committed. A crime he was trying to stop for Din's sake! Shining steel and the sound of clinking mail made his skin crawl. Just helping Warriors take his off had sent him to the edge of reliving those memories. But he'd done it because his brother needed his help. Now he was hearing Wars doubted him so completely.

Legend was a difficult person to love. He knew that. He was all hard edges and scepticism. How Ravio not only put up with him, but genuinely loved him, he'd never know. The crazy merchant had latched onto him and never let him go. Ravio had opened his heart to the possibility that he could actually love and be loved in return.

"I didn't take to being the hero as easily as everyone thought I did," Wars said softly.

Legend raised an eyebrow, not at the words, but at the fact that Wars had spoken first. He was almost ready with a speach and everything. But Wars sounded like he was about to get something off his chest, and Legend was happy to hear him out.

"The war had just started. Cia's monsters were ravaging the lands. The Hero was on everyone's lips. And then the Hero was me. I was the one she was after. The spirit of the Hero lived inside me and she wanted it for herself. The lengths she went through to try and claim me, I shudder now to even remember it. I knew how to be a soldier. A Hero was something different. It's alright for a soldier to fail. That just means the enemy was stronger and better prepared than you. You can learn something from failing and do better in the next fight.

But as a Hero, you're not allowed to fail. You win or you lose and if you lose you'd better prepare for people to turn against you. When you're an image people cling to in times of dispare, you do everything you can to help and to live up to their expectations. I tried so hard to be everything people needed me to be. I hardly ever let myself think about what I wanted. Because it didn't matter. I had a job to do and that was all that mattered."

Wars paused and sighed, his chin resting heavy on his arms as they crossed over his knees. Though his voice sounded steady, tears slowly streaked down his face.

"I guess I still have it in my head that everyone needs me to be perfect. If I'm not, then I'm letting someone down. It doesn't matter how good a swordsman I am, or how many enemies I defeat. If I put a foot wrong, if I fail somehow, I fail Hyrule."

"I have a thing about soldiers," Legend sighed. If they were sharing he probably aught to do his bit. "On one of my adventures a guy called Agahnim accused me of kidnapping Zelda. He had some kind of hold over the soldiers and he made them come after me constantly. They put up wanted posters and ordinary Hylians saw me as the enemy who kidnapped their princess. I was on the run for months. Soldiers tried to grab me everywhere I went. I don't know if they had orders to kill me but they certainly weren't gentle in their efforts.

When you first showed up on this journey, for a brief moment I thought you were the enemy. The thing Hylia had sent us to fight. A knight gone rogue. I don't think I ever really got over that feeling. The idea that, at some point you were going to turn on me. So I kept you at a distance, kept pushing you away."

There was a brief moment of silence before Wars chuckled. He snorted a laugh as Legend shot him an incredulous glare.

"Sorry, I'm not laughing at you. That sounds like a nightmare. But it's kind of ironic," Wars tilted his head as the thoughts swirled.

"Ironic?" Legend parroted, utterly bemused.

"I had my fair share of betrayals during the war." Wars replied, his tone souring. "During one battle, half my troops turned against me. They called me a traitor, claimed the war was my fault. I had to-to fight men and women I had fought alongside for years. They gave me no choice. I still hear their screams.

So it's ironic you thought I was going to turn out to be a traitor. When I've spent most of this journey trying to convince myself that all of you won't turn against me at some point. None of you ever gave me reason to think you would, but the memories still haunt me. So when you push and you tease and you torment me, it feels like..."

"Like your fears are founded in something?" Legend filled in, the bottom falling out of his heart as he spoke.

"Yeah, and when the others laugh and join in with the joke. Sometimes it's hard to make myself believe they don't mean it." Wars paused and turned his body so he was facing Legend more directly. "I'm sorry I make you feel nervous Lege. If I'd known I would have done something. Changed my clothes, I would have lost the scarf, the armour. If it stopped you thinking I would turn on you, I'd have done anything."

"You're sorry?!" Legend barked a laugh. He could feel warmth behind his eyes. But he hoped he would be able to keep speaking before he started crying. "Cap, Wars, I never thought about how what I was doing would make you feel. I - I suppose I did a bit and watching someone like you, a soldier, make a fool of themselves made me feel good I guess. I suppose that makes me a terrible bully." Keep going, deep breath, almost there. "And I know I can't take any of it back. Farore knows I wish I could. But since I can't I want to say how sorry I am. I'm sorry I singled you out. I'm sorry I made you feel betrayed, and I'm sorry I made you think I didn't love you."

"You love me?" Wars frowned as he sniffed.

"Of course I do you big dumb idiot!" Legend smiled, as tears began to overflow down his cheeks. Damn it.

"Haha, that's really sweet of you!" Wars laughed, but the sarcasm was clearly received.

"Sorry, I'm not good at emotions," Legend shrugged. "But I do mean it. I love you, and all the boys, and I will try my very best not to let you feel hurt by my awkward nature again."

"You really do mean it, don't you?" Wars said slowly, searching Legend's eyes for any sign this was another joke of his. He just hadn't reached the punch line yet.

But there was nothing but warmth and sincerity to be found. Wars hard hardly ever seen the Vet cry. But that wasn't important, he was crying too after all. Legend had opened up to him. Explained himself at last. All the pieces slotted into place and at last Wars could see Legend for who he really was. A frightened kid lashing out in order to protect himself. A kid who had seen more horrors and been through more hardships than any of their brothers. Perhaps more than all of them combined. And yet he had enough love left inside him for all of them. Even for Warriors himself.

"I love you too Legend."

Wars dropped his knees and spread his arms wide. Legend sniffed back a sob and crawled his way into Warriors embrace. Wars wrapped Legend up in his blanket, Legend's sightly damp hair tickling his neck. But he ignored it. They were both hurting and it meant the world to both of them to be able to comfort each other. Legend clamped his arms around Wars' waist, his face buried in Wars' shoulder. The warmth of the blanket and Warriors body heat spread through his frigid limbs and kindled a fire in his heart.

"Let's never fight again," Legend mumbled after a while. He felt more than heard Wars laugh against him.

"Yeah, like that's ever going to happen!"

"Alright, let's never fight over anything stupid again," Legend corrected, wiggling out of Warriors death grip slightly.

"Right, nothing stupid," Wars nodded.

The motion drew Legend's attention to Warriors hair. He really tried not to smile. He really really tried, but it was just so stupid how it was all stuck up on one side, even after being stuffed into Warriors hat.

"Would you like me to try and fix your hair?" Legend offered, already afraid Wars was going to shut him down.

"How? It's going to take days of washing to get this out?" Wars sighed, deflating a little.

"If I brush it carefully, I can stop it sticking up like that. Then we can wash it properly when we're out of, wherever we are!" Legend insisted more fervently. "Ravio did something similar to me once after I accidentally burned his favourite scarf. He helped me get the worst out of it."

"But I ruined my comb," Wars groaned, remembering the matted clump which had been thrown on the camp fire.

"We can use mine," Legend offered. "We already need to buy a new one for you, what's one more?"

Legend and Wars spent the rest of the evening huddled together by the fire. Though the storm outside showed no signs of letting up, and they hoped the rest of the Chain had found their own shelter somewhere, their little cabin remained cosy. Legend was true to his word and dutifully brushed the worst of the glue out of Wars' hair.

After he was finished, Warriors hair felt softer and was no longer stuck to the side of his head or sticking up in spikes. As Warriors ran a hand through his hair, he could still feel clumps of glue against his fingers. But at least it was workable. The simple act of kindness and repentance Legend had shown filled his heart. Maybe things would be different between them from now on.

"What did you write by the way?" Legend asked, as he sat back down by the fire.

"Write?" Wars frowned.

"On the door of the cabin," Legend reminded him. "You left a sign for the others to find. What did you write? Some kind of code?"

"Ah, no. Not exactly," Wars uttered, cheeks flushing a little pink.

"A symbol?"

"No," Wars sighed, a symbol would have been a good idea. The triforce would have been easily recognised.

"Then what?" Legend prompted, giving Wars a nudge with his elbow.

"I was in a hurry so I wrote the first thing that came into my head," Wars admitted.

"Right, and that was?" Legend urged.

"I um, I wrote Link."

"Link."

"Yep."

... "It's a good thing you're pretty."

---

Once again this became so much longer and went so much deeper than I intended it to go. I should probably go to therapy instead of venting all my stuff into these characters. But therapy is expensive and posting fanfics on Tumbler is free! So you guys get to enjoy my therapy with me, yay!

(Cries internally)

If you want to read more Legend and Warriors then my fic Hobby Boys is much shorter and has way less angst!

[c0smopolitan]

The Bug Collector

A/n: I’m late but it’s here😍, this was gonna be a completely different fic but I had a crisis half way through and deleted it because I hated it. Learned “The Bug Collector” on guitar today so I decided to fuel this fic on that song. This is all fluff and based off the house in cmbyn since I love it sm in the movie. Only proofread once and povs change in this but I might fix that later. That’s all, Thanks!

Description: A morning in your life with James after you graduated Hogwarts.

Warnings: none this is pure fluff, James Potter x f!Reader, if you don’t like bugs or would never touch one willingly maybe you won’t like this lmao, James is a doting bf and gets jealous of a millipede, James knows how to work muggle items, that’s about it.

“Come here James.” You call out softly. James mutters a “yes love” as he finishes up watering the flowers in your garden. You continue to pick oranges from the tree in your yard with the help of your wand. He finishes watering the last flower and puts down the watering can, jogging over to you.

He gives you a quick kiss on the side of your cheek before pulling out his wand to help you with the oranges.

This domestic life was everything you dreamed of and more.

After James had picked the last orange, he put it in your basket and made his way to the kitchen where he turned the juicer on to make fresh orange juice.

You prepped the table outside for your breakfast and grabbed the plates from the kitchen and placed them out where you and James usually sat.

James called your name from kitchen and you promptly made your way inside. “Yes love?” You respond at the doorway. James looked over his shoulder at your figure and smiled. “Come make the eggs with me love, the juice is all done.”

You smiled and nodded, making your way over to where James stood above the stove with the pan in his hand, as you grabbed the eggs from the fridge.

🌱Time skip🌱

James ate next to you quietly after you were done eating while you sat with your sketchbook, drawing the green lacewings that sat on the flowers in a vase that was on your table.

He quietly got up and took his plate to the kitchen, coming back with two small jars in hand. “Here love, for the bugs.” You smiled up at James and he leaned down to peck you on the lips.

🌱later on🌱

James went inside the house to go get something while you made your way over to the peach tree in your garden where bugs prominently hung around.

You looked down to the base of the tree where you saw a millipede latched to it. You smiled softly and picked it up from where it was stood still, placing it in one of the small jars James gave you.

You sit yourself down, back against the tree, placing the jar down onto the ground in front of you where the sun shone the brightest and grabbed the sketchbook from its place between your arm and chest, placing it onto your lap. You grab a pencil from your pocket and begin to sketch the millipede who stayed still in the jar.

🌱10 mins later🌱

As you were finishing up your sketch you heard footsteps coming towards you. You look up to see no other than James coming towards you, book in hand.

“Thought I’d stay out here a while longer with you.” He says with a grin, you smile up at him with a nod.

“Ok,” you mumble. “Almost done with this, then I’ll let him go.” He nods and sits next to you on the tree. “Thought you were gonna collect it?” You shake your head while drawing the last of its legs.

“Don’t need to,” you say absentmindedly. “I already have a millipede at home, but this one’s bigger than Sunny so I wanted to sketch it.” You conclude, finished with your sketch.

He snorts and you look at him confused, getting up and dusting your pants off before picking the jar up. “What’s so funny Potter.” You banter as you walk a few feet towards the small forest next to your home and place the jar horizontally for the bug to crawl out of.

He comes up behind you, and wrapping his arms around your waist while you wait for the big to crawl out. “You named a millipede Sunny.” He says with a laugh. “S’cute.” He says, kissing your cheek.

You roll your eyes playfully and lean into his hold, tilting your head up to look at him just for him to already be looking at you. “Love you so much you know that?” He says looking at you with so much love.

Your cheeks turn a light shade of pink and you turn your body around to have your arms around his neck. “So sappy.” You say with grimace, but the grin on your face gave you away. “Only for you love.” He says, returning the grin and placing a soft kiss on your temple.

You stand there with each other for a few moments before you feel a crawling sensation on your leg. You look down confused, just to see the millipede crawling up your leg. You begin to laugh at it stopping its midway up your leg.

James looked down, confused as to what you were laughing at and sees the millipede on your leg. You laugh harder when it starts crawling faster while you’re trying to grab it.

You grabbed the millipede and held it in your hand, cooing at it while you began to walk away, trying to find somewhere to put it.

James didn’t share the same sentiment as you towards the millipede. “Cheeky bastard.” James mumbled while you placed it down on the ground, a few feet away from where you two were previously standing. You laughed at the jealousness James held towards an insect.

You walk back over to James, to see him eyeing the millipede as it crawled away. You look at him and shake your head, grabbing his arm and taking him back to where you two were sat before.

“You can’t be serious James.” You snort. He shrugs and sits down on the tree, moving your sketchbook and his book to the side next to him, leaving room for you to sit on his lap.

“He knew what he was doing.” He grumbled. You shook your head with a smile and sat on his lap, laying your back against his chest while he wrapped his left arm around you.

“Let’s continue reading ‘Great Gatsby’ like we were yesterday.” James said with enthusiasm, and you nodded with a soft smile, placing your head in the crook of his neck as he grabbed the book and turned to the page you left off on.

[lovemybluebully]

I have devised something devious in my lab and I'm taking it out on Wade bc I'm in a lee Wade mood at the moment.

We all know and love the "which spot is worse?" trope. Very evil, very flustering. But I raise you "which spot do you like more?" Because both of these assholes would rather die than admit they like being tickled. They're both very dramatic like that. It's always shit like "I dont hate it" or "Oh I love it when you put your hands on me peanut" and never explicitly saying they enjoy it. So being forced to admit they not only like it, but have a favorite spot? Combustion.

Wade loves to go back and forth with his ler. And the teasing itself rarely gets to him bc he loves the back and forth banter. But he's very good at worming his way out of things with misdirection and his unique brand of absurdity. He can easily get away with avoiding questions by answering a different question or making a sex joke and its so natural no one is ever the wiser.

So logan has him pinned, hes going back and forth between two spots, let's say sides and hips, and while hes thrashing around logan asks "which one do you like more" and Wade has no difficulty saying his hips are worse. But Logan doesnt take that as an answer, thats not what he asked now is it? Logan darts back down to drill at his hips, and repeats the question. This throws Wade for a loop, he feels the need to double down. He makes and innuendo, "That doesnt answer my question." and hands dart back up to claw at his sides. He makes a flirty joke, "Cute but not what I asked for." Hands zip down to his hips again. Now he can't say it, he's backed himself into a corner he doesn't want to say it but he can't wriggle his way out like usual. He's getting himself all worked up, frantically trying to find a way out of it but all hes doing is flustering himself because like hell is he choosing. Mind Games Mcgee has stunlocked himself and he's losing his mind. Wade spirals into thinking about which spot he actually likes more until he finally cracks and just shouts ears, and he thinks that's the end of it, but no. Logan is on the power trip of his life.

"Ears what bub, what about them?" Hes switched gears now, gently tracing the shells of both his ears now and he can actually feel them burning, Wade is whining through his giggles and squirming, Logan can't help but smirk "Are you sure, youre not just saying that to get out of this are you?" And Wade actually almost said he wasn't sure because his brain is That Fried. Logan asks again. "What spot do you like more" and Wade finally caves. When he's finally recovered and brain back online he immediately brags about how he never really answered the original question, (sides or hips) because he has learned nothing. And Logan is more than happy to give him another reminder.

Wow this ended up long, but I needed to put Wade in a jar and shake him like a bug. Hope you enjoyed this one

-Spider anon 🕷

[withacapitalp]

Because the girlies really loved my last post about Argyle (and I can't remember if I put this here or not) have some more unconditional jargyle love

“I got a job today,” 

All conversation halted as over a dozens pairs of eyes turned to stare at him. Argyle gave them all a half smile and shoving some more vegetables in his mouth. 

“A job?” Jonathan managed to sputter out, looking at Argyle like he was from another planet. He did that a lot, always had, so it didn't really bug him.

Argyle was fine with being weird.  

“Hawkins Pizza! Gino wants me to start on Thursday, earlier if I can. They reallllllly need the help,” Argyle said with a disappointed shake of his head, taking another bite of broccoli and telling them the whole story. 

He had gone in on an impulse while he was waiting to pick up Robin and Steve from work. He had just wanted a slice, maybe to pick some up for dinner tonight so Joyce didn’t have to cook, but he had walked into a waking nightmare. Half baked mushy dough, tomato sauce that tasted like it came right out of a jar, and a cheese blend that had zero stringiness. 

They didn’t even have pineapple. It was a complete travesty.

The owner hadn’t appreciated his observations at first, even threatened to kick him out, but he had managed to swing the man around by offering to make him a real pizza. 

Twenty five minutes later Argyle had a job offer and a super nice new boss. Turns out the dude was way chill, just overwhelmed by being one of three restaurants left standing after the earthquake. But good pizza made everyone feel better. It was one of the reasons Argyle had loved being at Surfer Boy so much. 

“Y’all won’t be able to handle the sick ass pies I’m about to be slinging,” He said with a lazy shaka and a chuckle. 

Everyone was still looking at him, but not with as much confusion. They all congratulated him,  lowly going back to the conversations they had been having before. 

Well everyone except Jonathan, but that guy was always zonked out. 

“You’re staying?” Jonathan finally asked. 

“As long as its still cool for me to crash on your couch, my guy,” Argyle answered. Shoot. He probably should have asked that first before taking the job, but he had just been excited to get to start making pizzas again. Being in Hawkins wasn’t anything like Cali, and he had jumped at the chance for something just a little bit familiar. 

“Of course it is. Stay as long as you want,” Jonathan answered automatically, not missing a beat, “I just- I-“

Jonathan cut himself off with an irritated sigh, turning to stare down at his plate. Argyle let him have the moment, bopping his head along to the music playing in his head and happily spacing out. 

Jonny needed things like this, moments where he could debate whatever was going on inside. His best friend was ‘cerebral’ as his abuela would put it- he needed time in his head to find the right thing to say. 

Or he needed time to find the courage to say he wanted to say without fear. Either way, Argyle didn’t mind waiting. 

“I guess I just didn’t expect you to want to stay,” Jonathan mumbled out, still keeping his eyes on his plate and not his best friend, “I mean given how insane everything is,” 

It was insane. It was all insane.

Two weeks ago they had been hitting golfballs into old cars and talking about how Jonathan needed to get his shit together, and now they were sitting in the living room of an abandoned cabin halfway across the country, surrounded by people who had only taken ten days to feel like family to him. 

It was insane that Jonathan’s little sister could move stuff with her mind, and there was apparently an alternate dimension full of hell beasts that were determined to break into their world and destroy everything. It was insane that he had known nothing about the guy he swore was his best friend, and it was insane that Argyle still managed to find a way to love him through all of it. 

But sometimes insane was a good thing.

“Where else would I wanna be?” Argyle said instead with an easy grin, slinging an arm around Jonathan’s shoulder and leaning into his best friend’s space. 

[afyrian]

no. 6 - breakfast convos masterlist

    the mess hall is filled with tired and cranky campers. the first night wasn't how you expected it to go. many of them weren't prepared for the terrible mattresses that every camp seems to have and the amount of bugs that made their way through the door cracks. and now, standing in the mess hall, you sigh, letting your cabin go ahead of you. 

  the breakfast looks absolutely delicious, however, most of the cabins had already gone through the food. even atsumu's cabin seemed to have made their way through before your's. with how often he slept in.. you lightly shake your head, trying to remind yourself that this camp isn't about him. it's about camaraderie and having fun. 

  although, no breakfast but seaweed and steamed rice isn't the most fun. and while you could make something out of it, there isn't much rice to work with. you look around the room, biting your lip, watching as your friends try to wave you over. 

  "sorry about the lack of food, some people seemed to grab more than the usual amount," osamu catches you standing in front of the food without anything on your plate, "here, why don't you come to the back and we can figure something out. someone's bringing fresh food soon, but your first activity will have started."

  you take in a slow breath, nodding your head, "what would i do without you osamu?"

  "probably go hungry," he shrugs, a smile rising on his face. 

  the two of you make your way to the kitchen, scouring the freezers and fridges for something to hold you over. luckily there seemed to be a couple eggs left and some pickled vegetables. of course it isn't a full meal, and you'd probably need an emergency snack, but it's something. "i know this isn't exactly the best first breakfast under my control, but i'll make it up to you."

  "thanks osamu, i do remember your cooking being fantastic back when you'd sneak stuff in the middle of the night," you lean against a nearby counter, crossing your arms over your chest as he cracks the eggs into a pan.

  he looks back at you, eyebrows raised, "really? i thought it sucked, i mean half the time it was just fish and some rice with like no seasoning."

  "it was better than what's-his-face's-name's cooking.. i mean that guy really didn't know cuisine like you do," you give him a small smile, remembering that you two would have some fun together when atsumu wasn't there acting like a prick half of the time, "so, you own a restaurant now, right?"

  "yeah, it's being manned by my second in command, i'm pretty proud of it. it's called onigiri miya, if you're ever nearby you should come and check it out," osamu finishes the eggs rather quickly, setting them into a plate and grabbing some of the pickled vegetables out of the jar.

  before you can agree to the slight invitation, atsumu barges into the kitchen, holding his tray in front of him. it still has some food on it and his hair is a little frizzled from having woken up recently. your gaze flickers between him and his twin, hoping that you could possibly sneak out without having to intervene. 

  "'samu!" he looks over at you, instantly repositioning himself some so he doesn't look so awkward, "y/n... right? sorry about the food, my fifteen year olds were really hungry after the terrible sleep. i saw you guys come back here and i had some rice left if you want it."

  you swallow the saliva in your mouth, pursing your lips. not that it doesn't seem like a kind gesture, it's just that you can tell he ate it with a mix of ingredients. "thanks.. but if you ate it with tonjiru, i can't have it," you grab the tray that osamu had put your food on, looking away from atsumu as soon as the tense grows too thick for your liking.

  "oh okay- uh yeah understandable.. okay, hope you enjoy that then," atsumu closes his eyes for a moment, seemingly pondering his life choices and the very awkward situation he has put you all in. 

  "thanks, atsumu," you walk out of the room quicker than you would've ever attempted with food in your hand.

  the tension had grown so thick you could cut it with a knife, and truthfully you didn't want anymore part in whatever conversation the two were going to have. however, osamu wasn’t so lucky in escaping the conversation that atsumu soon subjects him to. 

  "dude, you got to tell me what you guys talked about! did she remember me? it seemed like she didn't, but you guys looked cozy back here," atsumu sets down his tray, immediately bombarding osamu with his questions.

  "first of all, it was a private conversation between two people who used to be friendly at camp. secondly, it was mostly about my cooking and my restaurant. no cozying up or anything, it was a conversation and cooking. why do you care anyways?"

  truth be told, atsumu didn't quite know why he cared, besides the want to apologize. he did always think you were quite nice despite all of his antics. however, he knew that without a doubt, that that’s the only thing he wanted to know. most definitely… for sure.. the only thing.

taglist (open): @lemurzsquad, @froyaoya, @localgaytrainwreck a/n: this chapter feels so incoherent to me so i hope it comes across alright!!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Helping Hand 6

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of divorce, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Jonathan Pine, 40s reader

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You're permitted to leave the dungeon of your policy review for your designated half-hour break. You go to the lunch room and sit down with your meagre tray of crackers and cheese. You pick away at it, your appetite spoiled by the rotten start to your day and the pain tearing at your muscles. You really just want to go home but you know you can't. You need the money.

Your phone shakes on the table, a loud rattle that makes you flinch. You sigh and grab it, standing up to take the call. The longer you avoid Andy, the worse it's going to get. You leave your food on the table and jar your shoulder as you pull open the door. You put the phone to your ear as you storm onto the sales floor.

"Andy, I'm at work."

"Tough shit. How hard is it for you to give me an answer? It's as simple as a text--"

"You ever think I don't want to see your mother or you? Andy," you huff and hold your breath, lowering your voice as you hurry past customers. You get outside just as you're about to burst, "you left me. You served me papers. Why are you still bugging me?"

"I asked you for a goddamn favour. And just like usual, you can't do a simple task--"

"Andy--"

"Listen to me," he hollers over you, "she's sick. Okay? She's sick and she wants to see you."

You stop on the curb, teetering on the edge. You push your neck back and groan. God, you're shoulder hurts.

"How sick?" You ask.

"Sick," he answers somberly, "please, it's one afternoon."

You exhale, "what about... her?"

Another silence as he sniffs, "that's over."

You want to scoff. You want to scream in his ear. All that for a fling that didn't even last a whole year. You hold back your venom, it doesn't change anything. You're still divorced and you still hate him.

"Too bad," you mutter, "fine, I'll come."

"Thanks," he says, "for what it's worth."

"For her, not you," you growl.

"I can drive you--"

"No, I'll figure that out myself," you turn back to the storefront, "the less time we need to be together, the better."

He clucks, "I wasn't that bad."

"Apparently I was," you shrug and let out a pathetic yipe, "god fuck!" You pull the phone away from your ear as you try to stifle your exclamation. You put it back to your cheek and cross the pavement to the door, "gotta go. Bye."

"Sunday--"

"Got it."

You hang up and shove your phone in your pocket. You whine and clutch your shoulder. Your eyes blur with tears. So much for a relaxing lunch.

You reenter the store, head down as you ignore the customers trying to get your attention. You punch the keycode into the lunchroom door and grab your uneaten snack, packing it away before returning to the backroom. As you enter, you find the office occupied.

"Ah, there you are," Jonathan greets as he turns to you, "how was your break?"

"Short," you answer and go around to sit in the chair, cradling your elbow to keep pressure off the joint of your shoulder, "thanks."

"I saw you rush out. Everything okay?"

"Yep," you roll forward and flip a page, "everything is roses."

"And how is your shoulder?" He asks.

"Good," you lie.

He stares at you. A deadlock between you. You bow your head and resume your mindless browsing of redundant rules. He comes close to the other side of the desk and rests his fingertips on the top.

"I am worried, I am not treating you maliciously," he says evenly.

"I know. I told you not to worry."

"Someone should be cautious if you won't," he insists, "I am not like that man I fended off last night–"

"He's not your problem to worry about."

"Yet, I do," he intones, "you shouldn’t let him shade your impression of the world. He is one person–"

"I don't want to talk about my ex-husband," your voice scrapes with frustration, "please," you lift your head, "I'm just trying to get through the day."

He considers you, dragging his hand away from the desk to cross his arms. His forehead ripples and his cheek twitches. He takes a breath and his chest rises and falls.

"Very well, let's keep this professional. Go home."

"What?" You sputter.

"Yes, you've had time to review the policy. Should an employee have issues performing their duties, and/or pose a risk to themselves or others, they may be dismissed," he declares, "I believe if you sit here any longer and stress your injury, you will cause irreparable damage."

"It's fine–"

"I am your boss and I am telling you to leave the premises."

You lean back, chewing on a yelp. You blink as you glare at him. You can't believe he is doing this.

"Now, since you are officially relieved of your duties, as your friend, I insist you see a doctor–"

"You can't do this–"

"I am," he shrugs nonchalantly. "Of course, you may choose to catch the bus and see how you fare with a night of discomfort and no relief or you will accept my offer and seek help. I had my physician pencil you in for an hour from now–"

"Why would you do that?" You sneer.

"Because, you are stubborn–"

"I am not your responsibility."

"Perhaps not in your mind," he smirks, "so, shall I retrieve your things from your locker or would you prefer me wait for you here?"

"I'm not going with you," you stand and close the binder, slamming your hand on the cover.

"Very well, until you seek proper care, you will not be permitted to return to work. I cannot risk the liability–"

"You are…" you begin, breathless with exasperation, "why are you doing this?"

"Doing what? Looking after you?"

"Yes," you murmur, "why would you bother?"

"Someone must," he drops his arms, "please, be mad at me all you like, it is better than hurting yourself."

You shake your head and huff, avoiding him as you round the desk, "I'll get my bag."

"I'll be here, darling," he hums smugly, "patiently."

[inuhalfdemon]

No One Can Know... (18/?)

Word Count: 3,414 Words

Rating = Explicit (Sexual Content)

Chapter 18

"Love bites...but, so do I."

- Halestorm

It was the night before Adam’s planned attack on the hotel and Alastor was feeling…pleasantly drunk.

Good and sloshed, really.

He excused himself from the others that were gathered at the bar still and he went to go find Lucifer. Having seen him disappearing up to the outdoor balcony only a while before; he headed up the stairs.

Stepping outside; he found Lucifer and Niffty seated together on the railing. Lucifer sat; working at something in his hands while Niffty perched beside him; looking intently at what he was doing. She was leaning very precariously; focused on what she was watching but Lucifer had his wings out; one side draped lazily beside him and the other partially extended and held close to Niffty so that if she were to fall or lose her balance, his wings would catch her before she ever fell.

Niffty was talking excitedly and Lucifer smiled; opening his hands so that she might see what he held there better. He asked her something and she nodded enthusiastically to what he was saying. Alastor stepped closer and he caught Lucifer telling her:

“…you know, I think this will suit him perfectly. Good idea, little bug.” Niffty giggled at that.

Below their dangling feet, Alastor noted bits of leaves and twigs scattered all along the ground.

Alastor cleared his throat and both of their heads snapped up to look at him; their expressions were comically the same – both looking as if he’d caught them reaching into the forbidden cookie jar.

Lucifer subtly passed something to Niffty before darting his eyes back and forth and speaking loudly; obviously trying to pull Alastor’s attention to him. 

“How many times do I have to tell Charlie about these railings!?” He forced out a laugh, pushing Niffty gently with his wing and encouraging her to climb down. “Lucky, I was here…don’t want anyone taking a spill, go right off the edge.” Lucifer forced another laugh; “Haha! Whoops! Am I right?”

He smiled awkwardly and Niffty laughed with genuine humor at the display.

He’s....such an idiot. Alastor felt the corners of his smile twitching.  

“Hm…quite.” Alastor walked to the railing, smiling down at Niffty. She hurriedly hid something in the folds of her little dress and smiled widely back up at him.

“Will you be partaking in any of the merriments this evening?” Alastor asked Lucifer. “Husker’s manning an open bar tonight.”

“Nah, I’m going to head out.” Lucifer stretched out his back; flapping his wings and smoothly jumping onto the railing. “It’s a lovely evening….think I’ll stretch the ol’ wings; go for a quick flight.”  He smiled at Alastor, lifting his wings and feeling the cool night air shifting through his feathers.

“You and the little bug enjoy it. Who knows what tomorrow may bring.”

Alastor nodded and Lucifer leapt from the railing; spreading his wings and gliding into the night.

“Come along, Niffty.” Alastor told her, and they went back inside.

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

Alastor didn’t head back down stairs right away; instead he wandered to the edge of the inner hotel balcony; looking down on the small group still gathered in front of the bar below. Niffty readily joined him; jumping up heedlessly to sit at the top of the tall railing.

“Ah, the celebratory night before a courageous last stand…it’s been a surprising thrill to witness these wayward souls find connection.” Alastor smiled, shaking his head and feeling the effects of his indulgence. “Almost makes one sentimental, eh Niffty?”

“I really like them, Alastor!” Niffty told him happily. “They let me put on roach puppet shows without booing!”

“Ah…an enjoyable collective to be around.” Alastor nodded. Then, folding his hands at the wrists and resting his head on them: “I admit one could get accustomed…” 

Pulling out the hidden treasure Niffty had kept in her dress; the little demon leapt agilely atop Alastor’s head: placing a crown made from leaves, twigs, gum, a miniature toy sword and a ring of roaches upon his head.

“I dub thee: King Roach!” Niffty announced before leaping away.

Alastor stood tall, proudly displaying the crown.

“Oh, to understand your twisted little mind!” He told her; both laughing heartily together.

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

When Alastor returned to his hotel room; he found Lucifer standing in the middle of the bayou, looking up at the night sky.

They still had much to discuss…final thoughts and plans in what Alastor should anticipate in a fighting style from someone like Adam…

But, that’s not how Alastor wanted to spend their evening.

Not that Alastor really considered this night to be one “before a courageous last stand”. He knew that either he or Lucifer could handle Adam with ease and that with the both of them fighting for the hotel together; this battle was already won.

It’s what would come after that still unnerved him…the unknowing of what Heaven’s response might be, Lilith’s next planned move or even the response from all of Hell itself. Alastor and Lucifer had both decided to let the Voxtech surrounding the hotel alone; knowing full well that the entirety of their battle would be broadcast throughout all of the rings. Everyone would see that the angels could be harmed…that there was a chance to defend themselves against Heaven’s attacks. It wouldn’t be long before others made the real connection and saw that - this too - meant that all of Hell could rise up; actually and truly rise against Heaven.    

He didn’t want to think about all that now. Not tonight.

Alastor crossed from his hotel suite; stepping into the bayou.

“How was your flight?” Alastor asked Lucifer, standing beside him.

Lucifer laughed. “It was short; just around the hotel for a bit but…it was amazing. It’s been a…long time since I’ve flown just to fly.”

“Isn’t everything you do short?” Alastor teased him and Lucifer moved to punch him.

Alastor stepped back; catching his fist and pulled Lucifer into him.

Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the effects of the remnant hormones still in his system; maybe it was both – or possibly – it was none of those reasons. Perhaps Alastor simply just wanted to be with Lucifer.

Whatever the reason; Alastor pulled Lucifer close – leaning down; he kissed the angel softly. Clawed fingers dragging through the King’s hair and an arm wrapping around, holding him tightly to Alastor’s waist.  

His breathing heavy; Alastor broke the kiss.

“Take us somewhere.” Alastor told him.

“Where?”

“Anywhere.” Alastor answered, before they were both consumed in fire.

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

“You’re sure you want to do this? Tonight, of all nights?” Lucifer was asking him.

“Yes.”

“And, your sure this is how you want to do it?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Alastor answered him, growing agitated.

“I just…I don’t want to risk you having another episode, Al.”

“Then, don’t use a blindfold. The ropes were never an issue and the chains – the ones that you can command – are they really that much different?”

Lucifer hesitated. He wanted to do this with Alastor, he really, really, really did but…his better sense was telling him that they shouldn’t. Not now.

Not really knowing what Alastor was wanting; Lucifer brought them to the pocket dimension he had brought them to when Alastor first went into rut. It was essentially a pocket of nothing; one that gave them a complete freedom of space and a freedom for any manner of manifestations. Lucifer, again, found the romanticism of it lacking, but Alastor assured him that the spot would work just fine.

They both had been drinking…another very good reason for Lucifer to call this whole thing off. But, because of the alcohol and likely the rattled nerves he was having with what was coming for them tomorrow….Alastor was initiating a session with him; something Lucifer very much wanted to seize the opportunity of.

Lucifer told himself that he couldn’t be sure when this opportunity would become available to them again and letting some steam off may help them both focus their efforts better tomorrow. What’s more, he would be much more attentive this time to Alastor’s response to things…and, there would be no blindfolds. He had a list of reasons saying why not to, but then he had just enough reasons to give in and say: fuck it.

Lucifer stretched out his hand and several chains slid from the dark, pausing at his feet.

“You’re…sure?” Lucifer tilted his head; absolutely serious but feeling the corners of his mouth pulling into a smile, already excited by the anticipation. “Last chance…”

Alastor smirked; pulling of his jacket, bowtie and monocle, he flung them to the side. He yanked up the sleeves to his shirt and steadied himself.

“Let’s do it..” Alastor growled; crouching and bringing his head down - he smoothly changed form. Leaping forward; he had shifted himself so that he was the lanky and bulking deer demon; all teeth and burning red eyes. He bore down on Lucifer, eyes bright and flaring.

Lucifer smoothly stepped to the side, sending a chain directly for Alastor’s throat.

Alastor’s hooved hind feet slid briefly along the floor underneath him when he swiftly switched his direction; the cloven toes cutting grooves as he pushed away and out of the chain’s reach. Claws sliding and screeching against the ground; Alastor pulled himself forward nearly overtaking Lucifer before the angel dove and rolled out from under him.

Lucifer laughed. “Fuck…you can be quick!” 

He sent another chain after Alastor and this one caught him with a good snare to the back leg.

Before Alastor could whip around, the chain jerked hard and brought him roughly down onto his side; dragging him back.

Rolling; Alastor landed back up onto his feet and lurched sideways, dragging the chain as he closed back in. The links pulled taut as Alastor swung to the side and Lucifer’s feet were pulled cleanly out from under him when it caught his ankles.

“Fuck me. Well, that was stupid.” Lucifer sighed, rolling away smoothy as Alastor threw his hulking frame heavily right into where Lucifer had been a moment before.

Alastor galloped a few paces, then slid to a stop – claws and hooves all gouging and screeching sharply against the floor.

Lucifer shivered. “Ugh, I really hate that sound.”

Alastor huffed; tongue lolling from his mouth.

“Okay, but we can’t exhaust ourselves doing this.” Lucifer was telling him conversationally. “Lilith would be pissed if I mess things up tomorrow because I was busy chasing your tail all night.”

Alastor stepped forward, teeth bared and snarling wickedly – foam and spit slipping from the corners of his mouth as he smiled in a grotesquely gaping grin.

“How about we take it down a notch!” This time, Lucifer flung a heavy strand of golden links straight for Alastor and this time the shackle found its mark. Closing heavily around the deer demon’s throat; Alastor was yanked forward, forced back to form and thrown sprawling to the floor.

Chains from all sides shot for Alastor; binding his wrists, ankles, arms and legs. They stretched him out and held him firmly to the ground as Lucifer approached. Lucifer waved his hand and the golden chain and shackle holding Alastor shifted from its heavenly form to match the mundane traits of the others. Alastor panted in great heaving breaths; his body sweating and flushed red from his exertion. His clothes were in complete tatters; falling off of him for the most part. There was a huge tear into the crotch of his pants; running from the hip, clear down to the knee and the incredible erection he was sporting was poking out from the tear – plain as day.

“Hm…things got a little hot and heavy there for ya.” Lucifer grinned widely. “But, I wonder…Al.” Lucifer knelt down; staring first at Alastor’s exposed penis to his redly flushed face. “Is that because I dominated you so easily already…or is it because I’ve got you chained and shackled at my feet…just waiting to be broken.”

Alastor’s flush deepened and his teeth and fists clenched; his arousal only becoming more and more apparent as his antlers curved upwards and widened.

“Well, fuck me ladies and gents…the radio demon is a true bottom.” Lucifer sang; waving his hand. The chains quickly shifted; twisting and moving so that they were pulling Alastor over onto his belly. Instinctually, Alastor lifted himself up on his hands and knees and the chains securely tightened; holding him there.

Alastor gasped at the restraint; fighting against the chains, fighting to lift his head.

“I find that this –“ Lucifer turned his hand and the chain securing the shackle to Alastor’s neck pulled tight, yanking him face down.  “Is a much preferable position. Wouldn’t you agree?” He laughed, darkly.

Alastor struggled against the links; lifting, jerking, twisting and writhing – trying to find a point with any give and finding none. He focused on his breathing – trying to remain calm. How many times did Alastor put lesser demons in this position? How many times did he dominate others the way Lucifer was about to dominate him? Lucifer was the embodiment of Pride and he still allowed Alastor to claim him in just the way Alastor was about to be claimed by him. Pleasure or pain…Alastor would bare it; but the fear of the unknowing….

His tail wagged helplessly behind him; his cock was throbbing in a full and painful erection now; pre-cum seeping from the tip and dripping onto the floor – giving Lucifer every indication that Alastor was ready and willing.

Lucifer quickly stripped away the essentially non-existent clothing that still clung to Alastor’s body, easily tearing it away and throwing the torn fabric to the side.

He palmed his own erection; groaning at the pressure he was placing on himself and when he reached in – pulling himself out, Lucifer hissed in pleasure.

He was more than ready for this himself now. Flicking his hand; he slid his length through and across his palm – coating it in warm lubricant. He was tempted to keep Alastor waiting…to jack himself off then and there; just watching Alastor quiver with the uncertainty and anticipation of his impending but certain penetration – it would set him over the edge, and he would enjoy winding them both up again…but, they really hadn’t the time, did they.

I’ll fucking kill Adam just for that… Lucifer thought, without humor.

He was so focused on his own arousal; focused on the complete domineering high that he had found for himself that he very nearly missed the signs.

Alastor’s deer tail was standing straight up now; frizzed and fluffed out. Lucifer grabbed it gently; his thumb softly brushing the underside – sending shivers down Alastor’s spine. Alastor shifted; wobbling on his knees.

“Stay still now, my deer.” Lucifer positioned himself, “I’m about to rock your world.” Lucifer dug his claws into Alastor’s hips; gripping him tight and he was just about to pull himself back for the deepest of thrusts when he saw it:

Alastor wasn’t ready.

He wasn’t shaking from anticipation; he was fucking trembling. His tail had been wagging nervously…was standing and frizzed out now out of apprehension; not pleasure. The movements he was making…the shifting and the restlessness; he wasn’t squirming out of neediness but out of some form of anxiety.

Lucifer immediately retracted his claws; releasing Al’s hips and steadied him by his palms.

“Al?” Lucifer checked in with him. “What’s going on? Do I need to loosen the chains?”

“No.” Alastor clipped. “I’m alright.”

You’re clearly not though… Lucifer thought, shifting himself.

If not the chains…then - ?

“You’re sure?” Lucifer asked him.

“Yes! Just - !” Alastor gasped, feeling overwhelmed with both his arousal and his building anxiety. Just get it done…Alastor thought, pressing himself back, his tail still frizzed up and standing straight in Lucifer’s hand.

Best to be extra sure… Lucifer thought…touched by a sudden and dreaded hunch.

Shifting, Lucifer drug a hand across his length; coating one finger in the lubricant. Gently; he pressed his finger to Alastor’s entrance; feeling it tighten immediately – the muscles there unrelenting.

Lucifer dropped his hand; absolutely mortified.

I almost… I could have…

“What the Hell!? What’s going on!?” Alastor moved against the chains.

“Yeah…I’m not – I’m not doing this.” Lucifer waved his hand and the chains dissipated, completely releasing Alastor. Lucifer stood up. He reached to adjust himself but then didn’t really see the point; considering Alastor no longer had any clothes to speak of and he had a huge erection of his own.

“What the fuck!?” Alastor turned over. “What happened!?”              

“Were you at any point going to tell me that this wasn’t something you were prepared for!?” Lucifer asked him, voice rising.

“What are you talking about -?” Alastor nearly lost the words; he was so caught off guard. “You knew that I’ve never done anything like this before! What exactly was I supposed to be preparing for!?”

“Anal, Al.” Lucifer sighed, exasperated.

“What about it!?” Alastor was entirely flustered; both by the context and subject matter – not really understanding.

“Wait.” Lucifer tilted his head, looking at Alastor with a queer look. “Have you ever actually been on that side of it before?”

Alastor’s face flushed a deep red.

“OH, JESUS FUCKING HELL, AL!!!” Lucifer really started yelling.

“WHY IS THIS SUCH A BIG DEAL!?” Alastor was yelling back now. “I thought this is what we were doing!!! Exploring new things, new positions, new-“              

“It’s a big deal, Al, because I don’t want to fucking hurt you! I’m trying to enjoy this with you but I’m also doing everything that I can to make sure it doesn’t end in more trauma for you!”

“I’m sure you have to try very hard.” Alastor seethed. “Like sex isn’t the only thing you want to do all the fucking time!”

“That’s not –“ Lucifer realized what the words had sounded like and tried to reign everything back in. “That’s not what I meant.”

Suddenly, Lucifer understood. Alastor didn’t say anything to him because Alastor really didn’t know enough about sex to know what the problem here truly was. He almost busted up laughing; realizing that this was one cluster fuck of a misunderstanding and feeling relieved that he was able to pinpoint the source of the miscommunication. He wanted to laugh it off, but he could see Alastor was in no place for humor.

“Look, Al.” Lucifer explained. “What I about did to you…that sort of thing takes preparation. You build up to it; you don’t just ram somebody up their ass one day and call it good. I’m absolutely all in for us exploring that one together too, but you don’t just…do that…to someone that you care about.”

“Excuse me?” Alastor’s eyes narrowed on Lucifer. “What. The. FUCK did you just say!?”

Lucifer’s eyes widened, suddenly unsure that he had this whole miscommunication thing figured out.

“I’m-I’m not sure-“

“Don’t you ever fucking say that you care about me.” Alastor snarled. “That’s not what this was. That’s not what this is!”  

“Al, let’s just – let’s cool down, alright.” Lucifer was fumbling, he wasn’t entirely sure what this fight was about anymore.

“FUCK OFF!” Alastor yelled at him and Lucifer deflated.

Alastor’s hands were shaking, his ears pressed tightly to his head; eyes glowing red.

“What made you think...” He growled out the words, staring sharply at Lucifer. “That I would ever love you...” His ears curled tightly; eyes burning brighter as he lifted his chin. “Even if I could?”

Lucifer swallowed, feeling painful pricks at the corners of his eyes.

“You know what I think?” Lucifer asked him and Alastor waited. “I think you were saving those words for someone else.”

Alastor’s eyes narrowed.

“And, you know what else?” Lucifer laughed, lightly. “I never asked you to love me. I never wanted you to. All I ever wanted from you, Al, was…to be with you.”

 “I want a portal.” Alastor snarled. “Now.”

Lucifer obliged; throwing one up for Alastor to step into so that he might materialize directly into his hotel suite.

“Are we still going to talk about Adam or do I just catch you before everything tomorrow?” Lucifer asked him.

Alastor moved to the portal.

“We’re done talking about Adam.” He said, about to step through.

“Al…we still need to –“

“No. We don’t.” Alastor fixed him with a stone, cold glare. “I’ll take care of Adam. I no longer want you interfering.”

“Wait. What!?” Lucifer stiffened. “Al, you can’t-“

But, Alastor stepped through the portal, the golden ring closing behind him with a hiss.  

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

Chapter 19

[tenaciouslyobsessed]

Evan Desiderio | He/Him |

Evan lore? Kinda (how does one write about lore help) (I haven't written in a while, I'm rusty, don't look at me-)

Evan is a lonely man, who's desperate for love.

He has dated a couple of people, but they weren't good enough. He believes love is someone who is supposed to be on the same level as you. One you never get bored of, one who you want to spend the rest of your life with.

Rest of your life is a long time, of course Evan wants someone perfect. But everyone eventually get so dull, mundane, too repetitive, too boring.

He hates boring people.

A lot of his exes complain about his lack of affection. How distant he became, unlike the beginning of the relationship. How he slowly slip away from them. Some of them cried if he even loved them in the first place. He wasn't sure, he thought he did.

But they always get so boring.

The lack of effort they put it's unbearable… It’s not his fault, I guess it's not their fault for being boring either. He was starting to believe he would never find his match.

Still, he kept looking.

Eventually coming across Ryan, he found him fun and interesting. Holding hands while causing havoc to the world. Evan actually liked Ryan, maybe he found his match?

He believed so, especially on that fateful day.

Evan never felt so alive, the adrenaline, the thrill, the love of seeing Ryan shaking at scenes of death.

Most people would be mortified of what they saw their partner do. Ryan surely was, staring at the stiff body on the ground. Killed by his own hands. Evan wondered what he was thinking at that moment. Despite Ryan actions, Evan never felt his love intensify in such a way before. To love someone even in the acts of murder. The thoughts of someone going so far for him.

Isn't that so romantic?

It ignited something in him,

the desire for love that burns.

That will eat him alive.

Overwhelming love that drags him to the abyss as he drowns in it.

Ryan was not the person who will give him that. No, he was a coward. He squirms and snaps at Evan due to stress. Evan realize if the situation a bit different.

He wouldn't protect him.

He wouldn't love him, like he did.

No, Ryan would throw him out. As easy as he pointed fingers at others to save himself.

It honestly disgusted him, truly.

Just as soon as he starts loving him and admiring him, he starts to lose interest. Just like the rest. H hated him for giving him a taste of truly loving someone.

But Evan has one thing he could be grateful for Ryan.

He gave him an idea, to how to get his perfect love.

While walking at the campus, he sees Ryan doing his usual shtick. Evan found the most perfect clay, ready to shape to his desires. Cowering under Ryan was a meek little Milo, in tattered jacket. Milo reminds Evan of a cute tiny rabbit. He couldn't help but to smile.

This is just perfect.

If his perfect love doesn't exist.

He's just gotta mold one to existence.

Evan fun facts

Evan have bad reputation for being creepy and nosy

People mostly try to avoid Evan because of his reputation. Lots of rumors going around about him.

Evan loves gossip, he has very good hearing. Why yes, he will eaves drop about how Steve cheated on Cathy. Drama!

He watches discovery channel

He's very affectionate (if he likes you)

Milo felt some sort of connection towards Evan, since he thought he was also getting bullied too

Evan loves bugs, he has a jars of them little crawlers hidden in his dorm

He is very petty, he wants to ruin Ryan

Evan is delusional (if you can't tell) he loves of the idea of someone, not the actual person. He loves the thought someone doing extreme acts as sign of love, and believes that's normal. (basically like Eris, except I'm sure Eris is actually self aware)

[illdothehotvoice]

I want to put that skeleton in a jar and shake him around like a little bug. I want to study him under a microscope.

[zukkaoru]

nikolai and teruko for the hc ask game..?

nikolai

Sexuality Headcanon: i don't think he labels his sexuality bc he doesn't seem like the sort to like labels sfdgfhk the hc i have written down for him in my doc is "silly & fruity" which. is probably about what his answer would be if you asked him his sexuality

Gender Headcanon: same as above; i don't think he labels it beyond "not cis" + along with that, any pronouns nikolai is something that has been rotating in my mind recently

A ship I have with said character: (fyo)nikonathan. thanks to nikonathan ceo louie <3

A BROTP I have with said character: i mean. nikolai and kenji. i did write 22k words about them. also nikolai & sigma! and nikolai & dazai can be so fun as well (emergency number laizai is sooo wonderful omg i love them)

A NOTP I have with said character: i don't think i have any? at least not any that are popular ships lol

A random headcanon: he likes embroidery,, i don't have any real reason for this; it just showed up in my nikolai & kenji fic and i was like. yeah. so true op

General Opinion over said character: he is SO fascinating. i want to study him like a bug i want to dissect his brain i want to put him in a jar and shake him around i want to peel back all of his layers like an onion until his raw core is on display and i want to poke it until he breaks

teruko

Sexuality Headcanon: bi maybe? alloaro perhaps? but probably actually it's "i'm too busy with my job to think about that rn" <- has been saying that for 30+ years

Gender Headcanon: i don't really have one for her

A ship I have with said character: also don't really have any ships for her,, i think she probably had some feelings for fukuchi but i don't Ship them

A BROTP I have with said character: all of the hunting dogs but especially tachihara!! also i think about teruko & sigma in last train home a lot. ALSO also i think she and elise should meet. i want to lock them in a room together just to see what happens

A NOTP I have with said character: all of them? idk like i said i don't really ship her with anyone but also i've only seen maybe one teruko ship so there aren't any popular ones that i actively dislike either

A random headcanon: she gives surprisingly good and wise advice, but only to people she cares about. tachihara is the most frequent recipient of it, but tecchou and jouno and even fukuchi have all found themselves looking to her for help when they need it. however, she usually has to (lovingly) bully them before she says anything helpful

General Opinion over said character: she's a queen. an icon. she probably gets unfounded hate bc she's a female character which means i have to love her even more out of spite. "annoying" female characters i still love you even when the fandom doesn't <333

[cha1cedony]

Just woke up in the middle of the night and about to try to get back to sleep again but: if Grant Wilson had the chance to live as any kind of bug for idk 24 hours? What kind of bug do you think he’d choose and, if it’s different, which bug do YOU think would suit him best? 🥰

OH MY GOODNESS. This is the best thing anyone’s ever asked me HAHAHA. For context… I love bugs (and Grant ofc) SOOO much

Ahem. Okay. Okay. This is a multi-faceted question. And I plan to be very annoying about it 😁‼️‼️‼️ I’m going to put it under a break bc I actually spent (too much) time rambling and overthinking this lol

WARNING: Very long and nonsensical Grant bug ramble below. Also, there are images of insects and spiders!

The Grant Bug Post

24-hour bug survival (lmao)

As much as I love bugs (using that term very loosely in this post btw), I doubt Grant would WANT to be a bug for a day (because he is no fun!!! 😤👎 /lh). However, let’s say he’s fighting an entomologist acolyte (who used to be one of Henry’s co-docents at the natural history museum or something lol) and is turned into a bug for 24 hours, but he gets to choose the bug beforehand.

In this situation, Grant would go for a tactical bug, but he probably also has limited knowledge of bugs (again, no fun). His pick would need to be resilient and small enough to hide/run quickly. I don’t think he would go for something that can actually do much damage; he’d rather wait out the 24 hour period. Cockroaches infamously can take a few stomps, can hold up to radiation (which mayyy have been important in pre-Code Purple apocalypse Earth?), and can kinda scurry around and hide and survive on trash for a day. They also live for about a year (not that Grant would probably know that), so in case something went awry and he WASN’T immediately turned back after 24 hours, he would live longer than other bugs, giving the other kiddads enough time to hopefully figure something out (although, if Nicky’s problem-solving skills are any evidence, they probably would NOT figure out a way to turn Grant back 😔 lol)

If Grant was in a similar situation, but he NEEDED to defend himself/others (instead of just running and hiding), I can imagine him going for something that both flies and stings, like a bee or wasp: feels sniper-y, satisfies both his violent and self-sacrificial tendencies, etc. Unfortunately, one sting is not gonna get the job done, unless maybe the acolyte is allergic to bees :) Grant is very headstrong and unfortunately would definitely launch himself into battle as fuckin bee if he was in a bad mood. Hopefully, in this situation, the other guys would be there to hold him back from becoming a bee and immediately dying 😭

I was also trying to think of bugs (or bug-adjacent creatures) that shoot projectiles of any kind (because sniper lol), but I can only think of bombardier beetles, which shoot explosive liquid out of their abdomens (very cool, but Grant would not know about them).

PS: Snails can also shoot hormonal projectiles called “love darts” that are used to determine assert sexual dominance and which snail will be male/female for reproduction (since they’re hermaphroditic) but. That’s definitely not applicable here 😭😭 I just wanted to share. They also have bad aim, so Grant could never be a snail 🙄 hehehah

For fun :)

Aside from missions or life/death situations, the only time I think Grant would willingly become a bug for 24 hours (<- CRAZY phrase LMAO) is to make Lincoln happy :) Link’s favorite animals are caterpillars, and I can imagine Grant finding some kind of item/spell to turn himself into a bug and IMMEDIATELY dropping everything to be Link’s pet caterpillar for the day hehe. Some kind of friendly, cute caterpillar who won’t make Lincoln itchy… or turn into a butterfly and fly away 🥲 He would even let Link shake him around in a jar for a little while (he always scolds Link for trying to keep bugs in jars hehe). That way, he gets to encourage Link’s interests in a way that is VERY safe for all parties involved. If Grant had to pick ONE bug for to become, I think he would go with a caterpillar, unless he was in the special situations I described above. (Maybe I should’ve put this paragraph higher up! :p)

Google (more specifically, this website—that’s right; I’m citing my sources in the Grant bug post 😎) says monarchs and anise swallowtails are common in southern California, and they’re both big and cute and not too prickly, so I can imagine those being some of Link’s favorites :) I think his favorite is the monarch specifically (the yellow stripey one below) but Grant likes the swallowtail (the green spotted one)

Kid/teen Grant

As a kid, I think Grant was probably grossed out by bugs and would NOT want to be one (again, boring smh). I was trying to think of a soccer-related bug, but the best I can come up with is a dung beetle 😬 He would NOT want to be a dung beetle. There are unfortunately no gamer bugs (except maybe the Pikachu spider shown below, but Grant would not like spiders, nor would he really care about Pokemon). Bugs should try playing Fortnite, I think

Assigning him a… bugsona? lol

OKAY. On to the more important question… What bug do I think Grant would be? I’m actually shocked I’ve never thought about it before because, in past fandoms I’ve been in, I have a history of making lists of what bug each character would be. Very self-indulgent, I know. Shush. I’m being self-indulgent right now 😤 I think I’ll make a list of potential bugs for each DnDads character… ANYWAY

My immediate reaction to this question was some kind of beetle. Grant actually has always reminded me a LOT of an old anthropomorphic beetle OC I had in high school :) He was a green stag beetle—Lamprima adolphinae—and I think it suits Grant really well!

As a character, Grant generally feels very beetle-ish to me; he is very big and imposing with a tough exterior, both physically and metaphorically. BUT he can also be very lovey, easily embarrassed, bookish, a little geeky, etc. which I associate with these beetles in particular mostly just because of that old OC I mentioned before. And they’re GREEN! Grant is green (in my heart and mind hehe). It’s perfect B)

I know my initial cockroach mention might’ve sounded funny, but I can definitely imagine Grant as a roach o_o !!! Again, they’re wide and sturdy and headstrong, but flighty/skittish at the same time. Very Grant. I also could see him being an assassin bug. The name works for him too haha 🥲🥲

I could also MAYBE imagine him as other similarly sleek bugs, like a bald-faced hornet, but I think beetles or true bugs (assassin bugs, cicadas, etc.) suit him best. I can’t really imagine him being a small bug

Okay. Okay. Phew. I cannot believe I wrote THIS MUCH about bug Grant. If only I could write this much of my fic this fast lmao 😭

MY FINAL VERDICT…. 🥁🥁🥁

I think Grant would choose to be a cockroach 🪳 for survival purposes, but he would easily be a caterpillar 🐛 to make his son happy. If I had to give Grant a.. bugsona?, it would be a stag beetle 🪲 for sure! :)

If you actually read all of this, uhhh thank you???? 🐞 <- here’s a lucky ladybug for you. PLEASE tell me your DnDads bug opinions if you have any I’d love to hear them 🙏 Maybe someday I will draw the main characters as anthro bugs (bc that’s like. the only thing I can draw heheh)

Thanks so much to Isadora for sending this ask omg!!!! :’) I saw it a little bit ago while doing schoolwork, and I was super excited to write this silly post, so it helped motivate me to finish. Feeling a lot better :) Sorry I wrote such a long response haha! PS: I hope you got some sleep!!! >:0

[fullofgutsndopamine]

Tossed Around Like Sea Glass (You Rounded Out My Edges)

or: Person A is about to move out of the house they grew up in. Before they leave, they call and invite Person B over so they can dig up the time capsule that they had buried in the backyard together when they were kids.

a parade of shoeless feet smack against hard concrete. the feet are covered in mosquito bites, crosses from fingernails in them (“if you put a cross through it,” hasan had said over light from a roaring fire, the flames lick at his face, “they stop itching.”) but if they bother the two, they show no signs of it.

“Last one to the lake has to look for the sticks tonight!”

Hasan is crouching, having just lifted a rock up in search of rollie pollies, his second favorite bug-waits until the moon is high in the sky and the mosquitos buzz by his ears to pull you by the hand, an old mason jar with knife holes at the top, to search for lightning bugs for you two to sleep with.

“no fair!”

but he’s off, long gone, laughing as the wind pulls at his hair-for a second he’s confident-before he always face plants down, trips over this feet-you aren’t sure if it’s on our purpose or not at this point, how you’ll hold his chin your palm as you check for injury, always kiss it better, how the pink rises in his cheeks after.

how he always insisted you two had a “perfect spot”; the back channel where the water was too low for boats and the fireflies danced above the water reading you both- how he’d light up with wide eyes when he saw them: “jackpot.”

You two orbit to each other, floating into each other, reaching out always pulled away-you’re always wishing to spend a second with him, in his hemisphere, where you can finally ease into him, lift the imaginary gun off his shoulders and leave it by the door where it stays.

you remember it clearly, maybe the most clear of everything:

a mop of unruly curled hair you imagine he spends the morning in front of the mirror, yanking and twisting at it, trying to finally get it to fall into place and not betray him. and if you’re lucky enough to get close to him, to be in his orbit-freckled cheeks with a constellation of freckles on them-you imagine if you get close enough to him you can trace the constellations-big dipper and little dipper, orion tucked carefully in a corner, hidden away

the voice in your head sounds strangely close to hasan’s voice. raises with the same inflection, low when it’s a shared secret between you two-you hope to ever lose it.

nights catching fireflies, sharing a too small beach towel on a slowly rotting pier, his hand outstretched at a never ending sky, his voice low as he talks about the stars, the myths that go with them-the way his voice drops when he gets excited, like he’s embarrassed for you to see this part of him.

time passes. slowly and quickly at the same time. hasan stays in the small town he always joked he was plagued with, could never shake, how his dad would always joke people were born here and died here, never stumbled here by accident, stuck here like some ancient curse.

when the house went for sale, you stayed behind as long as possible. not all by accident, not all because of these deadlines for work that made you want to pull at your hair, find any and all excuse. you do, for a long time.

finally, you stand in the too small cottage, all furniture gone and peeling paint, can hear the waves crash into the sand back, retreat back into the lake, a battle cry as they collide with the land again.

it’s too small without him.

the phone call was awkward. you spent a good amount of the time pacing on the hardwood floors, side stepping the pieces of floor you know creaked and groaned under your pressure.

“Hey uh-“ you shake your head as you talk, squeezing your eyes shut. it’s weird, introducing yourself to someone who use to be your person, your entire personality, always the two of you, a packaged deal, “look i’m-were moving and i wanted to know if you were up for one more adventure.”

he comes to the door a towering human that finally grew into his too big shoulders, how he’d trip over his feet when he ran, how he shoves his phone into his pocket, stands up a little straighter when he sees you, how he stutters out an introduction, like you don’t see his face behind your eyes every night when sleep is impossible.

you worry conversation will be awkward but it flows for long enough you have to have him remind you what he’s here for, the mission at hand as he leads with dragged feet to the side of the house, a comically small shovel in his hands.

he falls to his knees next to you as his hands break with the earth, clog under his fingernails as he unearths it:

“here we are.” he laughs, at how low it was buried, how heavy it is in his hands, how it lasted this long

he smacks the ground next to him and you immediately fall next to him, knees knocking against his-no longer scarred and bruised and scraped from childhood.

“here we are”.

it breaks with a pop, and he unearths the first, all photo of the two of you, his fingers doing bunny ears behind you, the sunburn on both of your cheeks.

“you still have that stupid fucking smile.” he laughs, flicking the photo over. yours and his initials are on it in the middle of a heart.

“and you still have those freckles.”

it comes out before you can stop it, but he hums lightly, pulls out a smaller mason jar with a laugh:

“still can’t believe we parted with this,” he sighs, “we were obsessed.”

he hands it over and you roll it between your palms: “the best nightlight there was.”

he pulls out a collection of rocks, the same kind you two would be knee deep in feeding cold water to collect, to share and trade between one another, how you’d slide them into his pocket before he left every night, like you hoped it would keep your memory there.

a handful of shoelaces, pop bottle caps, a barbie and a friendship bracelet, the string long broken and beads in a heap underneath it-

finally, a baggy of pressed flowers, how you’d collect them and shove them inbetween pages of books for him to find, how he’d always act irritated about it but you’d later find them on his desk, in his jean pockets.

it’s quiet for a second and you’re worried you’ll cry, that these memories and him again-will leave you, will be gone so soon, didn’t know you could be homesick for a person until right now.

hasan picks the mason jar up one more time, stained with fingerprints and cloudy from time and dirt:

“what’d you say?” he muses, “one last hunt? i bet i’m still the best at catching them.”

he stands, ignoring how his knees crack as he stands and how he holds his hand out, offering help as you let him pull you up:

“feels like some sort of unfair advantage,” you mumble, “the height difference alone.”

“sounds like someone’s still afraid of losing. cmon, i’ll let you keep ‘em in your flower box tonight.”

you remember the fights, the fingers poking at chests as you both argued who got possession of this nightlight that night, the rotating schedule you two argued about, finally came to terms with-how you noticed the slow progression-from the fireflies that you’d see every night with him, when they danced and weaved and flowed through your feet when he was there-how they disappeared when he was gone-how you haven’t slept good since.

“cmon.”

he unscrews the cap of the lid, hands it to you before he can overthink it he weaves his fingers through yours and gently pulls at you:

“i know the perfect spot.”

[eugeniedanglars]

cooking up a totally unfounded and probably easily disproven theory that where you fall on the bucktommy-buddie scale is determined by whether you’re more of a buck girl or an eddie girl*. this is based solely on the fact that i want to put eddie diaz in a jar and shake him around violently like a snowglobe and therefore when i try to picture a bucktommy endgame my brain keeps interrupting it with “okay but where does eddie kissing men fit into this picture?”

*intended gender neutrally but “fan” isn’t really the right word—i like buck and eddie equally, but eddie is the one i’m more driven to psychoanalyze/write meta about/study like a bug

[hotelraleigh]

oh i bet you thought you got rid of me. escaped my insanity. you FOOL my insanity was MARINATING i have not been NORMAL about shit talk for a while now and i am finally feeling semi coherent about it

they're so sweet and cute i want to vaporize them both with an atom bomb. they need to get married. failing that i want both of them shot directly into the center of the fucking sun.

i am SHAKING your harvey by the shoulders and asking him who gave him the NERVE to be so perfect and pathetic. who gave you the right to be a loverboy. i need to put him in a jar and shake him around like a lightning bug.

and dont get me started on your farmer. i need her bisexual ass to get it together but ALSO i am greatly enjoying every moment that she's being stupid. girl shut up it's harvey you could spit on him and he'd probably thank you. get out of your own head and talk to him just TALK TO HIM (but no. parenthetical here. open up, little mouse.)

in conclusion i need them both carnally and if i can't get that i need the farmer to apology fuck harvey until he can't walk straight. thank you for coming to my ted talk

that image is exactly my face as i read this LMFAOOOO. you're so fuckin funny.

i think im incapable of writing non-pathetic men cause i think all men SHOULD be pathetic. i literally saw a post here one time saying that harvey would die a random anime mom illness death if something happened to the farmer, and i internalized that shit to a horrific degree.

stupid representation matters!!! pathetic representation matters!!!