#ask-blue-oddity

[oddity-txt]

Just so you know the 'maybe tomorrow ill feel better' piece is reposted art, against the og artists wishes

my friend. thank you for the information. but it would be helpful to have the link to the og art/ artists blog

[savanir]

DP x DC prompt [9]

Danny doesn't remember much of what happened after his fight with Pariah. he knows the suit nearly killed him. 

He knew he passed out after and had to be carried back.

But considering the fact that the sky is blue and he's in his bedroom it was pretty safe to say that it was a classic case of a job well done and everything was back to normal.

The next day however, more and more oddities started happening. 

No longer did Amity Parkers get assaulted by GIW warnings when they accessed the internet. Instead they just got… nothing, nada, zilch.

Did the GIW go all in and just disconnect them from the rest of the world completely?

But then it became clear that that was the case with everything. stores weren't getting any shipments. 

phone calls would automatically say that numbers weren't in use. 

packages and mail weren't being picked up. 

Very worryingly, credit cards also stopped working and any attempt to contact the bank went utterly nowhere. 

people gradually are starting to get more and more worried.

Amity was very independent and self sufficient but this was a bit much.

At the very least now the city was more open to the doctor's Fenton energy solution of simply using Ecto to power everything.

The guys in white didn't show up in the city anymore either. 

The same went for the other out of town ghost hunters.

and after a quick check from Danny himself (as Phantom) he confirmed that the little not so very hidden base the guys in white had set up outside of the city borders was now simply gone.

Not only that but the roads going out of Amity also just suddenly stop.

At this point Team Phantom is starting to have a certain suspicion, and Sam asks Danny to find the nearest gas station and get them some newspapers.

Back home and now with a bunch of newspapers spread out over the floor with articles about Alien invasions in a place called Metropolis or the top floors of a skyscraper being blown up in a city called Gotham, they have enough to confirm their worries.

“Guys I think we got put back wrong”

[malleleothreesome]

Azul Ashengrotto x afab Reader - Aphrodisiac + Breeding

💜 summary: After an alchemy accident, you and Azul end up covered in an aphrodisiac potion ༶༶༶ 💜 warnings: afab reader, smut, LOTS OF BREEDING KINK, pregnancy mention, porn with plot??? ༶༶༶ 💜 word count: 8.4k words I DON'T KNOW HOW THIS HAPPENED ༶༶༶ 💜 song: Vapor - 5 Seconds of Summer "I wanna feel you in my veins I want to breathe you in like a vapor I want to be the one you remember I want to feel your love like the weather, all over me" ༶༶༶ 💜 inspired by: this ask thank you! ♡✧*:･ﾟ

As a magicless human, Alchemy had always been your favorite class at Night Raven College. Despite lacking an innate aptitude for spell-casting, mixing and crafting potions was an artform that didn't require magic in order to bring spectacular effects into the world. Alchemy classes provided a refuge—a safe space with no barrier for entry where you could excel instead of feeling singled out for being an oddity in a sea of talented mages. You relished in the opportunity to learn about new components and elements, excitedly observing as volatile chemicals bubbled in heated pots to produce glowing, glittery pastes.

Much to your suspicion, Azul had always been particularly enthused to help you with potions, boasting how he was the most adept in the class due to his academic proficiencies, and that he was certain you'd find success with his aid. He took special interest in mentoring you, watching your delicate, nimble movements as you worked, walking you through procedures and detailed steps, and speaking knowledgeably about the ingredients in a tone that oozed expertise. His tutelage had helped you reach impressive grades on even the most challenging assignments. It wasn’t long before you found yourself spellbound by his charming intellect, deceivingly sweet demeanor, and the addictively intense gaze of his unique blue eyes.

There was always a subtle mischief hidden behind the smiling eyes and the easy charisma that suggested an ulterior motive lurking beneath his silver-tongue. Based on your observations of his interactions with other students, you assumed this was a ploy in hopes that if you had taste of the sweet, intoxicating elixir of power and success, you'd become desperate for more of his help, consequentially making you subservient and open to the idea of contracting yourself to him. In defiance of your paranoia that his motivations are not entirely altruistic, you did always feel an odd prickle in the air when he stood right behind you to monitor your actions. That sensation, a fiery buzz that hummed in your lower abdomen, always gave your heart flutters and kept you on edge as Azul's calm breaths ghosted against your hair and sent ripples of warm pleasure tingling through you. Your breath hitched in your throat as his large, gloved palms gently guided you through your motions, brushing over the bare skin on your knuckles or arms, leaving electric jolts where you felt his warmth. He smelled crisp like ocean breeze, an inviting fragrance that enveloped your mind and wrenched you out of reality and into his heady fantasy—a scene in which all you can taste are the thick, sweet notes of his dark intentions, and all you could do was choke on his cloying, dominating allure. He didn't ask permission to touch you or indicate an appropriate method to teach—no, his hands simply snaked around your waist and ran along your curves, slowly learning the feeling of your soft flesh through his gloves. Each time, you couldn't help but sink a little closer to his chest, instinctively chasing the seductive ambience radiating off of him, drowning in his captivating presence as though he was the tide pulling you under. There was no denying it—you wanted more of him.

Today's lab was no different, the air was tense and thick with charged attraction, filled with sexual tension so palpable it could be cut with a knife. The assignment was to experimentally combine various liquids, mixing and adjusting for better consistency, until you found a formula to concoct a viable, bountiful healing potion that would greatly ease the effects of injury. This assignment was a notoriously difficult, energy-draining procedure that required extreme vigilance to avoid an adverse chemical reaction that would result in a completely different type of potion, although Crewel didn’t elaborate on the exact details. After carefully pouring two compounds—one a milky white, and the other a vivid magenta—into a tall, cylindrical flask, Azul cautiously peered over your shoulder to check your concoction's progress as you stirred them. With one arm outstretched against the table to secure a good vantage point, he rested his other on your waist and leaned in closer as he studied the bubbling pink mixture. After adding an infusion of ground powder, a burst of sparkles clouded the interior of the flask, a telltale sign you were on the right track. This is the portion of the experiment where you needed to take extra caution to mix the elements together in perfect precision without faltering or taking your eyes away from your project, a delicate operation requiring the utmost concentration. Suddenly, Grim barges in and jumps on the lab station in excitement, yapping about how he wants to help, despite you and Azul explaining multiple times he has a proven history of destroying your projects.

The moment the little cat-monster attempts to extend his claws into your precious potion, Azul reacts automatically with surprising speed, his hands fly in a frenzy to scoop Grim away from your chemistry equipment. "Get off that this instant, Grim! You have no business here! Get your little paws out of that glassware this instant before you ruin another assignment! Do not interrupt us! Get away from there immediately!" Azul scolds him repeatedly while chasing him around the room, attempting to steer him to the door. "Why you foolish beast! You're far more of a liability than an asset! This experiment requires extreme care and concentration to avoid failure—a common result of your erratic, clumsy behavior!" His expression hardens with anger, eyebrows drawing into a line as Grim hisses defiantly. The little monster still hasn't relented, his hind legs clumsily scrabbling and slipping in Azul's grip as he tries desperately to cling onto the edge of the lab table, hoping for a quick paw-hold. A heavy, frustrated sigh escapes Azul's nostrils, his face morphing into one of desperation, pleading with the troublesome cat-creature to just leave you to focus your project in peace.

"How very annoying... To think he would willingly place himself in danger without even stopping to consider the consequences... what a foolish and irresponsible creature," he exhales irritably, struggling to wrestle Grim from his precarious position as his composure begins to slip, agitation creeping through his voice and shattering his typical polished and suave illusion of unflappable equanimity. He continues to scold Grim as he chases him around your station, gritting his teeth and losing his cool as the monster's cries of distress and denial ring through the entire room. Grim is an unrelenting little bastard who won't quit squirming. There isn't the slightest semblance of remorse or pity on his stupid, feline face, and Azul feels his resolve crack as he becomes utterly fed up with this spoiled brat's behavior. Grim continues to kick and howl his way through Azul's grip, determined to aid with your Alchemy project, but his clumsy movements start causing your potion to bubble and ripple in an unsettling manner. You shriek his name, begging him to just settle the hell down and be a team player.

It happens in a matter of seconds—a fizzling sound grabs your attention. You turn back around quickly and notice your reaction beginning to froth violently. Your eyes widen in horror and your mouth drops in disbelief. Azul notices your fear-wide eyes and immediately stops his futile efforts to reprimand Grim. In an instant, his gaze reflects the alarm in yours and the blood drains from his already pale cheeks. Grim runs out in a screaming huff as he exits in a frenzied flurry, knowing when to take a hint and make a clean getaway. At this point, the compound is pouring heavily from the top of the flask, spewing out onto the heating device and coating the table below. The chemical reaction is completely beyond your control now, its speed increasing exponentially, bubbling and exploding, kicking out thick, unmanageable clouds of murky pink and purple fumes. Within seconds, it covers the lab tables in an almost misty haze as you choke and sputter in a coughing fit, Azul gasping and choking right alongside you, panic flashing across his face. An eerie glow seeps through the thick liquid as a swirling mist appears from inside the glass. Without warning, it erupts directly toward the two of you before either of you have time to take cover—shattering the flask and showering the fronts of your faces and bodies in its noxious, intoxicating fluids. Both you and Azul choke out muffled yells and groans, the sticky, glittering mixture clinging to the fabric of your clothes and the exposed skin on your faces.

The next thing either of you register is Crewel's obnoxious bark as he spits out sharp commands to open the windows and clear out all the air from the room. Coughing, you gasp for fresh oxygen, suddenly becoming very aware of how fast your heart is racing. It thumps so hard and so forcefully inside of your ribcage that the noise reverberates loudly in your ears, overwhelming your senses. However, no amount of labored inhaling can free you from the toxic, vaporous gas; every molecule in your lungs has already been bombarded and completely overcome by the potion’s effects. As its intoxication takes hold of you, a wicked fever seems to roar within you, followed by a horribly slow heat that makes your limbs ache. Every orifice of your body is saturated by the miasma—liquid slips between your lips, gushing down the front of your body to coat your exposed neck and chest. You taste the surprisingly sweet potion on the inside of your mouth; its taste lingers sweet and tacky on the flat of your tongue, coating your throat. You'd panic that you just consumed some horrific cocktail with traces of corrosion or stomach-rotting acid, if it weren't for the fact that Crewel seems more frustrated than concerned for your well-being. Rather than damaging you, whatever substance was expelled seems to be having quite the opposite effect; you feel your body becoming more energetic, your head becoming lighter, and a bubbling rush of warmth seems to radiate all over from the inside out, changing your physiology into a fertile garden in need of sowing. Adrenaline rushes through you and awakens your basal instincts, forcing you to acknowledge every excruciating detail of your body in an erotic manner. Arousal slithers through your veins like venom, poisoning all remaining thoughts and rationality, as a throbbing, almost blinding wave of pleasure overtakes your body. You become intensely, achingly aware of your physical needs, and all those needs center upon an impassioned desire to be filled, stretched, and seeded full—the frantic urge to be bred nearly splits you in half and makes your lower belly cramp in a hot flash of want. For a second, you hear Azul stutter something to you, his voice wavering on the verge of cracking with the desire that the aphrodisiac had triggered. You lock eyes with Azul, pupils blown wide as lust makes his oceanic gaze shimmer. The front of his slacks have grown embarrassingly tight with the straining girth of his aroused cock. You meet his clouded eyes, almost embarrassed by your wanton thoughts and the desperate throbbing between your thighs.

It is only a split second of recognition, a blurry, sweaty haze of unfathomable passion, before your shared moment is interrupted. Crewel shouts at you to look him in the eyes, snapping you out of your sexual frenzy, even if only for a split second. He stares at you, his gray-streaked hair framing the contoured features of his face as he cocks an eyebrow. The elder gives your flushed skin and trembling body a once-over.

"Just as I thought. It's a dopamine-based aphrodisiac. At least nothing fatal or life threatening, but enough to send you both into a delirious, euphoric-fueled rut," he assesses calmly, unfazed. "What's more, the way the explosion altered the structure of the compound has made its properties even more potent and uncontrollable. In terms you incompetent pups will understand, we're past the stage of antidote or reprieve, and you both have mere moments before the hormones will reach maximum capacity and you two will need to find some private location to release the effects..." He trails off. From his expression, you can tell there is more he would like to add to the situation, yet a worrisome crinkle furrows his brow as his eyes remain on Azul, as though assessing whether the situation is really as under control as he wishes. "Both of you bad dogs listen carefully. Do not even dare to even breathe a word of what transpired here—you are to wait in isolation for five to eight hours until its effects wear off. Under no circumstances should you share physical contact with anyone else for the remainder of the day." He holds Azul's gaze longer than necessary, silently threatening him not to take advantage of this situation—but Azul seems far too caught up in the spell and too infatuated by the burning image of you, sweating, panting, and splayed before him.

"Should anyone at all realize that the two of you have taken any sort of love potion or been afflicted in this manner, it could create a massive scandal, and I'll punish you both so mercilessly for causing such an indiscretion, you'll be licking my boots in front of the entire school!" his deep voice booms in threat. "Have I made myself understood, dear pets?" Crewel snaps, the sting of his whip making both you and Azul wince and nod profusely. He leads you and Azul to the decontamination area of the lab, ushering you two into separate stalls so you can change into fresh, dry garments and wipe off the evidence of the explosion from the potion. When you both emerge, it takes Crewel less than a second to glance from the massive bulge straining against Azul's clothing, to where your heaving, quivering chest is spilling over the low neckline, your nipples hard and pressing obscenely through the thin fabric. He glares down his nose at the two of you in distaste.

"Five to eight hours," he hisses, eyes narrowing, almost sizing you and Azul up like he's waiting for one of you to give in to the pressure of the aphrodisiac. He throws open a back door, gesturing for you and Azul to disappear. Azul leaves first, a flushed, jumbled mess of conflicting emotions that are only intensified as he can feel every agonizing beat of his aroused heart pulse in the heat of his hard dick. You follow closely behind, but before you can cross the doorway, Crewel shoots his hand out to grip you by the upper arm, turning you to him as he towers over you, giving you an intense glare before sighing and pulling a small vial of bluish, iridescent potion from his bag and thrusting it into your hands.

"Since I know you won't be able to resist such a delectable temptation from that damn fishy bastard," his words drip with annoyance as he continues, "at least be safe, Pup. Go have a nice screw if that's what you really desire. The serum I just gave you is a contraceptive—just one sip and you will have full reproductive control, in case Azul isn't a decent man about his desires." You blink up at him in utter bewilderment. "Under no circumstances will I allow my star pupils to fall prey to the temptations and consequences of unprotected intimacy in the midst of this reckless hormone rush... I can't allow something like this to affect you or your ambitions. My students can only go to greater places." You feel his eyes burning with concern as he brushes your cheek, sending you a warning in his eyes and urging you to please think it through and consider it. "You are interested in Azul, are you not? I won't allow you to get involved in anything you don't consent to. If you don't feel safe, I can escort you straight to Ramshackle dorm and I will handle Ashengrotto myself." His stare, once cold and imposing, is now warm with protective care, as he looks you up and down with a gentle softness you didn't expect from your professor. The paternalistic expression on his face strikes your soul and pulls on your heartstrings a bit. After all, it's the type of support you feared was lost to you once you found yourself trapped in Twisted Wonderland with no hope of ever seeing your family again. With all the gentleness of a father, he squeezes your shoulder and gazes deeply into your eyes. You assure him that it's okay, you trust Azul. Nodding, your professor finally allows you passage out the door.

You had barely made it beyond the courtyard doors before Azul approached you with a sickly sweet, almost giddy look on his face. His steel-blue irises burned bright with anticipation, accompanied by a hint of something dark and salacious flickering in the shadows. The corners of his lips pulled taut, curling upward in a devious smile. A tremulous shudder passed through you and prickled up your spine at the thought of those hypnotizing eyes studying you while you lay enraptured beneath him, completely at his mercy. As he takes a few tentative steps toward you, his right hand glides and rests softly on your hip, making you gasp with surprise, your heartbeat fluttering and pounding deafeningly in your ears. Azul leans close to your ear, his breath coming out in hot, rapid pants, a carnal excitement that threatens to spill over and devour you whole. You swallow in nervous expectation, hardly daring to look into his lustful gaze. With his elegant index finger, he lifts your chin up and you are left gasping and flushed beneath him, lips parted to beg him for more as his gentle caress lingers. He flashes a devilishly handsome smile before tracing your lower lip with a seductive slowness. "Please, allow me to escort you back to Octavinelle where I can properly tend to you and your condition," the breathiness of his voice and his lack of composure cause your clit to throb, your inner walls pulsating, pleading to be stretched and ravaged. His lecherous advances and insinuations combined with the aphrodisiac coursing through your veins is making you so aroused, even standing close to him is threatening to make you cum. The very fabric of his essence seems to burn a shade darker—there is a terrifying intensity to his ardent desire for you, yet also a rawness and exposure you hadn't seen on his usually suave and polished facade.

Your whole body flushes when your gaze lands upon the size of his aching erection, an impressive tent straining tightly against his immaculate slacks, begging for attention through the dark material of his trousers. There is a manic, primal gleam that's spreading rapidly across his entire visage; he looks rabid with uncontainable greed, and you shudder at the thought that Azul will use your body to satisfy his own dark and twisted curiosities. "Please... It's the least I could do. After all, our most unfortunate situation is all due to my own recklessness," Azul pleads. His tone of voice is unwaveringly convincing in its sweet charm, yet you cannot escape the licentious twinkle that betrays his intentions, eyes ablaze with passion and lips quivering at the thought of making you his forever.

"Please... Just let me serve you and tend to your every whim," he begs. Even though the tone of his voice suggests innocence, you're reminded once more that Azul Ashengrotto believes the true intent in a plea is only to benefit his own ambitions—how ironic, then, that you find yourself overwhelmed with the desire to listen to the velvety cadence of his whispered sweet-nothings until you orgasm multiple times around the girth of his hard dick. Before you can speak, he reaches out and threads his fingers between your own. It was impossible to say no to the lilting honey of his tone, nor was there any will to fight as his firm and commanding hands ushered you towards the teleportation door. He practically pulls you into the mirror with him, and with a twinkly, delighted laugh, his covetous hand grasps you harder than ever as the portal draws closer, his eyes and touch almost reverential—eager, desperate, craving. The surface of the mirror swallows both of you up as the shadows distort the edges of your vision. The whole world spins around you both before the smell of the sea overwhelms your senses—the crispness of ocean air fills your lungs, and a feeling of cool relief washes over your flushed skin. In seconds, Azul is shoving you into an elevator and hitting the button to his suite. When the metal doors slide open, he gently shuffles you forward as he urges your body closer and closer toward his bedroom.

After his dorm door slams shut, your bodies mindlessly work to free the other's of their pesky and offending clothing, eager and restless fingers tearing and ripping at each article as though your lives depended on it. As each piece of clothing is discarded on the floor, new heated skin presses desperately into another as your erotic moans reverberate through the air. It feels electric, the way your sensitive, exposed bodies seek each other out, pawing and grasping at any available flesh and kissing any naked skin you can reach. Your hot, yearning mouth hungrily seeks Azul's for an urgent, feverish kiss—it is sloppy, desperate, almost savage as you share the intensity of your lusty feelings, gasping into each other's mouths, sucking, nibbling, tasting the sweet and sticky aphrodisiac concoction still lingering on both of your tongues. When Azul finally sheds his trousers, his painfully erect member juts out, throbbing and eager, bouncing happily and proudly as it quivers with eagerness. His knees weaken at the sudden release of the tension he'd suffered since the accident, the air a bit brisk against the heat of his erection, which begs to nestle itself securely into an inviting heat and fill your womb with the lusty seed it desires to spurt forth. His cock is ruddy and reddened, and his sack hangs swollen and tight with pent-up pressure. He doesn't think it possible for it to throb and swell even larger, yet its angry head and veins grow dark and twitch from his hot blood pumping. His hand mindlessly falls to his cock, and at the first stroke to his aching member, a needy whine catches in his throat. There is no time for shyness or apprehension. Whatever spell you were both under was driving you forward—like two planets caught in the gravity of an irresistible force, each gravitationally pulled toward the other with no means to stop. The rational part of his brain has been overwhelmed by an urgent instinct. Azul knows without a shadow of doubt that the only cure for this overwhelming haze of sexual depravity is to thrust himself deep inside the hot, velvety cunt of his precious lab partner.

Next thing you knew, you were pushed roughly, falling backwards before connecting against the smooth, luxurious blankets covering his mattress. He follows eagerly, letting his entire weight drop against your form and trapping your supple body beneath his. It was then, right then, when Azul found that the feeling of his aroused cock pressing against your thigh was unbelievably divine—a warm and pleasant tingling sensation spreading all over his hot, hard shaft and emanating out from his loins. With a contented hum, Azul can't resist the urge to buck his hips against your warm skin, stroking his arousal a little further, groaning at the exquisite friction. What a delicious sight you are—all nude and aroused—splayed and exposed across his bed. The effects of the potion have left you looking thoroughly wrecked, legs open, dripping and hot with an aroma so alluring, it nearly knocks the air out of his lungs. You are positively lovely, just as he'd always dreamed, with your petals unfurled and beckoning, enticing him further and drawing him in as your soft moans coaxed his cock in closer. To see you writhing and panting, the flush of your skin as you burned with longing for him...it was exactly as he'd always wanted it, almost as though someone had crafted the perfect image just to fulfill his darkest wishes. A surge of erotic fantasy comes upon him, and Azul's breath hitches in his throat as he ponders, briefly, about your womb filled with his seed, his beautiful angelfish round with child. He wants nothing more than to unceremoniously bury himself as deep within as he can, to push his thick, pulsating shaft as far as you could manage and stay buried to the hilt for days. His body quivers with excitement as a particularly vulgar dream reenters his mind. He had longed, always, to possess a most lascivious power over you—the power to make you writhe and squirm in bliss, and more importantly, in total and unbreakable dependence and submission for him—the neediest, sluttiest mess imaginable. Perhaps he'd have to thank Grim later for consequentially bringing about this fortunate chain of events.

Azul begins stroking himself fully, unabashed in his view of the sight before him. You don't protest the show. In fact, a high pitched, whimpery moan escapes you as you bite into your thumb to stifle the volume, but the sound is not missed, the harsh pang in his cock proof enough. After some thought, he realizes that he much preferred when you had been writhing and moaning quite uninhibitedly a moment earlier. You shift uncomfortably underneath his heated gaze as his eyes drink in every little curve, every little wrinkle and fold of your dripping pussy. Your toes curl inward and the ache deep within you demands attention. "You're so perfect, my little angelfish. Your body is exactly as I imagined," his saccharine voice admits as he leans forward, letting his fingers dance across the swell of your breasts. His left hand cradles your jaw and throat as his right continues its delicate massage across the plush pillow of your breasts, toying with the perked nubs of your nipples as his thumbs swirl small circles against the delicate flesh.

Azul's gentle touch ignites flames under his fingertips that follow his descent down to the juncture of your legs. The first brush against your swollen bundle of nerves and slit has your spine arching upwards, making his cock throb even more painfully, stiffening under the visual of your trembling body. A whine escapes and your hips grind involuntarily, the heat building intensely as his fingers begin to experimentally spread your folds slowly, running the tip of a finger from your core to the hood of your pearl. Without warning, Azul swipes upwards, expertly pulling back the hood and exposing the raw, sensitive flesh of nerves underneath, pinching down on the fleshy bud and causing you to yelp loudly in shock. With a satisfied grin, his forefinger begins to toy and tweak the hardened bud, rubbing gentle, rhythmic patterns over and over against the bundle as a chorus of delightful, high-pitched squeals fill his dormitory. After a few more ministrations, his hands continue down, delving his fingers straight into the moistened and heated opening, swiping up the slick mess you had coated his palm in. Two long fingers deftly slip right between your folds, caressing their way around your labia, your wet walls clenching around his fingertips desperately. "This wetness, for me?" Azul chuckles wickedly, crooking his fingers upward and brushing your g-spot with a knowing curl of his fingers, sending you spasming, gasping, and writhing in ecstasy, eyelashes fluttering wildly. "Oh, my dearest—so precious, my angelfish. That's it, so beautiful, just for me..." His voice drips with lecherous intent, his body moving without even the slightest hint of hesitation as though you were merely an extension of his own and not even a separate entity. Your wetness coats his fingers easily as Azul keeps sliding his fingers into your wet heat until the pads of his fingers touch all your deepest, hidden places, causing more sweet moans to fall from your lips and echo through his room. He scissors and curls his digits inside, stroking you slowly as though wanting to feel every bump, crease, and ridge along your walls, claiming his ownership over your deepest parts with a sinister delight.

A pressure builds and teeters precariously right at the precipice—the curling of his digits work feverishly to milk every drop of pleasure he can from your shuddering body, the warm flood of wetness drenching his eager fingers and making his head fall back with a sensuous moan. He continues with his relentless assault against your pussy, whispering filthy compliments about how badly he wanted to fuck you and how sexy it is when you take his fingers so well. Your legs flutter open wider, inviting his slim and nimble digits deeper within you, fucking them vigorously as your release begins to pool, rising closer to the boiling point. The aphrodisiac grips its poisonous talons deeper into your mind, warping and bending everything into an unshakable desire to submit yourself and your pleasure to the hands of the devious sea creature above you. He leans down, his silvery eyes roving over your face in an intense appraisal, his features drawn in with concentration, mapping out how to unravel you—there wasn't an emotion or micro expression that slipped past his vision as he carefully considered all the factors of how best to please and overwhelm your body with incomparable rapture. There isn't anything else beyond the present—no outside forces, nor worries about the consequences of being intimate. There's simply no room in your mind to think at this point, the cloudiness of the effects rendering your body vulnerable—you give yourself up entirely. He drinks up every breath, every shake and shiver, as he continues calculating your climax, relishing in each tiny noise or action he drew from you, meticulous with the acquisition of your bliss.

"Yes. Give in." he laughs maniacally, his face fully consumed in the intense madness of his lustful insanity. "Give in to every sensation. Let me drive you wild... Do as I command and cum," Azul demands you through his laughter, his breathing rapid and heavy as he watches your eyes rolling back. He moans in awe as the loud, slick sounds of his hand filling your soaking cunt meet his ears and a deep flush travels across his collarbones. His own needy cock leaks, eagerly anticipating what's next as its engorged state bulges obscenely, its every vein throbbing with virile desperation. Your high-pitched moans continue for some time as his pace stays fast, until you can finally feel your entire body tensing up, the fire coiling inside your gut ready to explode any moment. Everything builds higher and higher to the peak, every muscle and nerve fiber in your body primed to receive that last push that would send you catapulting over the cliff. As he feels your walls tremble, Azul moans along with your high-pitched wailing. A deranged smile stretches across his face and his silver eyes fill with amusement and fascination. 

Azul leans into your ear, whispering sweet nothings mixed with commanding, demanding words to finally succumb, "That's it...Let go..." He twists and digs deeper, stroking the perfect places inside you, hitting the correct spots relentlessly in an overload of mind-bending, debauchery-fueled, electric-spark pleasure, forcing your senses to dissociate from reality. His thrusting hand matches the frantic racing of his own heart, unable to keep the carnal fever down. "Give in... submit yourself fully, and surrender that orgasm. It's mine. I've worked for it, and now it belongs only to me." He whispers in a devilish growl, nibbling on your ear as his strokes become rougher, harder, faster—you can hardly stand the overwhelming force of your pleasure before its sweet relief crashes like waves. A broken moan leaves your mouth, a pure exaltation of uncontrolled passion. Noises come tumbling out and spilling over until you finally dissolve into a messy orgasm, shrieking his name in pleasure as his hand slows its motions but doesn't stop, keeping its pressure steady and rocking the whole of your existence until your mind goes blank. "Such a good, obedient angelfish, giving me all of your sweet, succulent cum... all for me, yes?" Azul hums sweetly, teasingly. "Oh, this is so precious," he sighs, feeling the quaking and trembling of your fluttering walls. His expression melts into one of deep satisfaction and pride.

"There you go, my lovely angelfish. Just as I said I would," Azul croons. Without another word, his hand, wet with your desire, abandons its ministrations, pulling from your depths with a slick pop, leaving your empty cunt to tremble from his absence. Azul brings his fingers to his mouth for a lewd taste test, licking the juices from his hand as a self-indulgent smirk plays upon his lips. As he rolls the digits around his tongue, sampling the essence of your cunt, a sharp groan rumbles deep from within his chest, the vibration coursing down his spine and directly into his throbbing member. Even as his breath grows heavy from the feeling of his needy cock, the smug, triumphant smirk doesn't disappear. He enjoys the honeyed, tangy sweetness and savors the lingering sensation on his taste buds—another string attached, making it utterly impossible for him to let go. A low chuckle is heard from deep in his chest, dark and hauntingly mirthful. From his pleased sigh, you could easily read the insatiable hunger growing within his gleaming eyes—clearly the lust in his loins has only been ignited further—a starving, manic beast hungry for even more from your yielding form, an insatiable craving that can't be satiated so easily. His cock visibly twitches, begging for him to mount you and thrust his painfully aroused length as far as he can manage deep into your eager, spasming pussy. The aphrodisiac courses through his veins with all the potency of a tropical storm, whipping every nerve into a frenzy as the instinct takes hold in Azul's most primordial thoughts and drives all those cravings with an irrepressible urgency—he simply has to get your pregnant. Azul's cheeks flush with a reddish-pink shade as he fixates on you, the hunger in his gaze absolutely feral, filled with a single-minded lustful determination to breed you.

When your eyes meet his maddened, love-struck stare, you are overcome with the same desperation radiating from your womb, urging to be stuffed and claimed by his thick load. At last, the two of you had connected in this all-consuming fire—a conflagration of desire so severe and a love so encompassing that both of you could do nothing more than dance on the ashes and burn with the flames. In that moment of recognition, an irresistible, bewitching aura emanates from him and mesmerizes you as the air of mystery dissipates from his visage, the eroticized specter of the fearsome and dangerous, devious mogul melts away to reveal the raw intensity of the young man underneath, exposed in all his ardent, unfettered passions. Here stands Azul, naked with vulnerability, desiring only a love that no other has been able to truly give. He's always tried to prevent access to his real emotions, afraid of the kind of cruelty they would reap upon him if they were found. He didn't believe himself to be worthy of their regard, let alone capable of receiving someone's genuine affections. With you, though, there were none of his signature theatrics, no polite deflection, nor charming evasiveness; he gave you full permission to view him and all of his repressed feelings on full display. An open book, Azul trusts you enough to expose his heart fully, so transparent in his neediness. Since he brought you to his bedroom, there was never the slightest hint of deception in his tone—not once had he attempted to distract you, nor used a tactic or trick. Perhaps his true intentions for getting close to you were more admirable than you thought, his desperation to get close to you was merely just a pining for your love rather than a sordid trick. His earnest, loving gaze, combined with the grip of your desire, makes something finally shift within, like the turning of the tide—a sense that it was fated for you to fall and crash so desperately, madly, and completely for him—a long-awaited inevitability, just as he had already done for you long before this Alchemy accident. Azul was an adoringly gentle yet brutally powerful force, a pillar in your life you can lean into without hesitation. All of your fears, worries, and frustrations are suddenly null, evaporating into the thin air of Octavinelle, carried into the gentle waters outside the window and disappearing into the seas.

Nothing is more erotic than seeing his carefully maintained veneer crumbling before you and letting himself fall apart at the seams. No longer hiding his desires or his ambitions for you, Azul's lusty hunger has you excited, aroused, and turned on like never before. You return his lustful, hazy expression and Azul is drawn right into the softness of your inviting stare. Your mouth parts to allow a needy moan to pass as you buck your hips slightly, inviting him to finally claim your body as his, a beautiful sacrifice you're eager to make for a beautiful siren such as him. With a deep, lewd groan, Azul pushes off your trembling body, propping himself onto his knees and groping at your chest, making you mewl. There's no trace left of the smooth businessman persona, not even a hint of it lingers when his wet mouth kisses at your mounds and his large hands explore the contours of your curves, his fingertips desperately memorizing the way you're put together, tracing every bit of available flesh. His eager tongue swirls at your peaked nipples, moaning in appreciation and delight. Your mind is being swallowed by a bubbling wave of bliss that has no end as his hand trails across your hips, his touch is as gentle as a ripple in the water. With a shyly embarrassed flush and a sigh of wanton abandonment, you surrender entirely to him—letting the sea creature drown you in ecstasy, deeper and deeper, into the endless ocean. He caresses your stomach gently, the calloused pads of his fingers exploring the sensitive skin where he knows your womb lies. Your heart stumbles as his lips twist upward in an impish smirk at the thought of all the cum he's soon going to pump straight into the cavity. He palms your belly, which would soon carry his progeny as an inevitable result of this union, imagining his angelfish's stomach rounded and taut with his unborn child, perhaps, even more than once—Azul's thoughts are full of fantasies about filling you and fucking your pretty little womb over and over until he succeeds and you're blessed with his babies. Azul hums at the image of your pregnant body, worshiping the slope of your thighs and rubbing his hands up your waist and the undersides of your breasts. Azul knows that even if it doesn't work right away, he is more than prepared to breed you again and again as many times as necessary. He is more than certain you'll eventually give him a consortium of little octopus-human hybrids. After all, you'd offered yourself up in the end. Who was he not to take what was freely given?

He grasps the back of your knee to prop up your leg in the air, shifting closer. In one fell swoop, your tender thighs are flung open, revealing your glistening cunt. Azul moans, running the rough pad of his finger right up the slit of your lips. You're already a mess, his slick hand had not been able to satisfy your heat at all, it only created a further yearning deep within that could only be satisfied by his aching cock. Azul settles against the fronts of your thighs, letting the stiff heat of his bulging erection nestle against the dripping lips of your cunt, already poised and eager for insertion. The anticipation causes the two of you to tremble slightly at the intimacy, your lips wet and sticky as they run against the length, his cock drooling freely from the tip and leaking beads of sticky, precum fluid right across your folds. With one more affectionate, sweet peck against the corner of your lip, and another one right upon your forehead, Azul slowly glides inside. A shared cry of euphoria leaves your mouths simultaneously as Azul buries the full length of his throbbing cock into your sopping entrance, thrusting powerfully to hilt balls-deep. The pure, erotic rapture of finally consummating your love floods both of your veins. His dick is filling you in the most indescribable way and stretching your cunt so deliciously that stars appear behind your eyes. A glorious symphony of relief sings in your blood while his hard girth massages your innermost walls as though he were meant for no other—like he was perfectly made to be the puzzle piece filling your immaculate pussy. You both gasp sharply in unison as the sensation sends tremors down his shaft. Every vein, ridge, and inch of his length drags deeply with each thrust as he grinds you thoroughly, bringing your clits into tantric connection and rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves back and forth in perfect time with the rocking motion. Each snap of his hip makes the two of you share a joyful sob as he pleasures you in the most divine manner.

A low and sinful groan passes through your lips as your hands grip him tighter, begging him to increase his momentum and pace. Azul's hands clutch you in a tight embrace, his chest to yours with every inch of his hardness fully embedded into your velvety passage, sending white-hot sparks of pleasure shooting to the deepest recesses of your innermost being, triggering the sudden rush of a climax that is starting to rise to its precipice. Azul groans as your juices run down his balls, pooling around his sack and providing more lubrication for his relentless drive inside of you. You clench and flutter around him, squeezing your inner walls with every desperate urge for friction and movement, drawing Azul's eye right up to yours in a lusty daze. His body is coiling for release, ready to cum, and there's a glitter of utter happiness in his expression. His lips quiver with desire and he smirks as he feels you clamping and spasming around his rock-hard dick, begging him to breed you like the little slut that he secretly knows you are, all while knowing deep down you'd get so unbelievably plump and swollen with his hatchlings, he'd hardly be able to move his tentacles with all the kids crawling over him.

It's more intense, and far more electrifying than the filthy fantasies that had invaded his sleep every lonely evening whenever he gave in to his insufferable yearning for you. He'd envisioned this, over and over—what it would feel like to make you orgasm, just how satisfying it would feel to cum with you at the same time, and how heavenly it would be to stretch your cunt so snugly—and yet, in this moment, it surpasses his imagination exponentially, eliciting a complete flood of sensual pleasure all throughout his senses. Not even his wildest wet dreams had prepared him for the heady intoxication and undeniable high he experiences with you—being passionately and physically intertwined, wrapped around the most sublime euphoria that was possible—a wave so dizzying that there's absolutely no going back to life without the other once your bodies have succumbed and reached that ultimate, highest peak.

When Azul hits the point of no-return, his legs start shaking as though his limbs were going to fall off. His fingers tangle roughly in your hair as he drags your mouth closer to meet his. With each heavy thrust, he swallows every moan that erupts from your throat. His movements become less coherent, rougher, and disjointed as the strength of your cunt's embrace pulses tightly around his shaft and urges him toward the edge. Suddenly, an intense wave of satisfaction takes hold and shoots to the tip of his cock, pulsating violently in need to release its seed. Azul can't help but groan loudly into your ear as he slams his cock into you with ferocious strength, fucking the life and soul right out of your being while a high-pitched scream accompanies the splash and squelching noises of your pussy. Your mouth has gone slack, jaw dropping as you cry out his name and climax with such power that it whips you into a complete frenzy of desperation, sending your vision dancing with lights. You quake and shiver under the force of his fervor and ecstasy, writhing on the mattress and throwing your head backward to soak in your overwhelming, toe-curling rapture. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, pounding you fiercely as you wail and shatter with a rush of emotions so intense, you don't know if you will ever put yourself back together. A strained whine and a few sharp pumps later, a surge of hot, wet euphoric heat shoots from Azul's balls and spurts out in ribbons of his own spent climax as he spends his load of pearly cum directly into your waiting womb, splashing your tight channel with a continuous stream—painting every crevice of your silken, fluttering, vice-like depths a glossy white. Azul is unable to help himself as his hips start grinding into yours with slow rolls, fucking and stuffing every drop of his sticky cream deeply and ensuring it remains securely nestled in your folds. Every remaining bit of sexual tension floods out as though you'd been submerged in the most heavenly waterfall of pleasure imaginable. Azul whines weakly into the pillow and your moans join, eventually dissipating into a heavenly silence as you sink heavily back to reality.

Time slows to an almost stop and your vision gets a bit hazy and bleary as the aphrodisiac magic completely pulses away. You two lay side by side on the soft blankets, still in the bed and soaked with sweat. Neither of you move for quite some time. Just in the wake of your post-orgasm, everything becomes intensely surreal. You try to breathe quietly so Azul doesn't hear and as his head rests on your breasts. He, too, is heaving with difficulty, each inhale is a conscious decision. He clings tightly against you, hands threaded together like a lifeline, afraid to let go. One last sentence leaves his mouth—a whisper that could have easily been missed by anyone except for you. It was a question.

"Are we both in love?" Azul asks with such hesitance, you think maybe you've misheard his inquiry. He is lying right by your side. His face is dangerously close to yours, and the way his stormy, ocean azure eyes reflect every emotion swirling inside allows you to see the years of hurt that's plagued him. He's absolutely enchanted, like you are the perfect dream come true—everything he'd ever imagined in one living, breathing, precious human body—a lover so magnificent he could hardly comprehend. He studies your expression with awe and reverence. A look so intensely raw it burns right through your heart and lights up the space in your soul that you never before realized was reserved just for him. "Because I love you... Truly and deeply. So much that I don't know how it was possible, even," Azul admits freely, without the least hint of apprehension or nervousness. You can feel the intensity and honesty of his words radiate through his trembling fingertips, through the places where his naked skin touched yours—he doesn't try to mask the pure unadulterated warmth and delight that leaks through the shaky but firm expression on his flushed face.

A wide, cheerful and genuine grin breaks out against your features as you nod enthusiastically, and it is almost as though a heavenly, soothing light has poured over his entire world. It feels like a dream, a fairytale that is too good to be true. Yet here you both lie, doused in the magic of the concoction, clinging to each other and to that euphoric elation after giving in to the passions and the chemical bonds. It felt incredible, it felt natural and familiar and right. This wasn't anything artificial, rather the long overdue acknowledgement of feelings that were there all along—a kindling of romance that was never forced, but rather fanned to life after many days spent as Alchemy partners. After seeing each other every day, getting to know each other's quirks, and learning of each other's daily habits, the intimacy had bloomed and nurtured into something tender and real. The closeness the potion provided simply allowed the two of you the confidence needed to step across a boundary and pursue things.

"This won't be something short lived... you understand what I am saying, yes?" His tone has a tinge of fear creeping in and you can't help but stroke the outline of his cheekbones. This feeling will not end with a simple fuck, you knew that deep in the marrow. There will be more of that to come. In fact, the thought of it has your cunt pulsing, your sex aching at the idea. "I simply won't have you anywhere else but with me, and here in my dorm. I just won't be able to be happy otherwise..." Azul's voice quivers as the vulnerable sincerity flows.

"Yes, Azul. Yes, I understand and I feel the exact same," you chuckle and cradle his head. His blue eyes crinkle slightly from the beam across his lips, and Azul can't resist pulling you in for a feverish kiss, groaning from the rush. That familiar, sinfully blissful high is starting to take hold again, the rush of the aphrodisiac stirring something fiery back into a pleasant burn. The chemical’s grip on the two of you continues. After all, nothing will stop the magic from bringing you closer together. He murmurs a seductive promise into the curve of your throat that he won't stop until his load drips and slides right out of your swollen cunt—he's going to breed you the rest of the night and spill as much of himself deep within as he can. He has no doubt you're going to give him a child that will cement this loving bond permanently.

Listen I don't know HOW this HAPPENED, I DON'T understand how I wrote this much. I am DELIRIOUS and I need to go pick up some pizza for dinner, so I wish I could say more here but I can't right now. I'll update this part when I get back home. I just needed to get this out into the UNIVERSE. THANK YOU ALL!!! HOPE YOU ENJOYED!!! <3333 Erica Malleleothreesome

[onmyyan]

So I'm imagining a bit of a silly concept, but imagine delivery driver!reader with yanderes Dick and Jason. Like they'll keep ordering from the place reader works in hopes that reader will show up (and she will - your boss got fed up with all the 1 star reviews when anyone other than you shows up) but they act like creeps trying to get you to join in on their movie night or whatever. They totally don't realize they're being creeps, though - this is their darling! They would never scare her! But like reader gets fed up with them "propositioning" her so she has her boss put them on the do not deliver list. The boys are surprised (they knew her boss was sending all those other drivers on purpose! 🙄), but it's nothing a call to Barbara can't fix (she wants to be an Auntie ASAP - platonic yan Barbara, perhaps?)

It starts with a simple delivery to Wayne Manor, one insignificant package set their sights on you, but could you blame them? That smile when you handed Dick the package, the pretty laugh you let out when Jason said something witty, it wasn't their fault you enamored them with a single meeting, and it didn't help when you delivered their second package, about a week after the first, and remember their names, the audacity to do such a thing and not expect them to fall in love.

Anytime someone other than you shows up they're met with the coldest glares, Dick is short with them, no banter no charm, Jason straight up doesn't speak to anyone that isn't you.

They don't start to get creepy until about week three, that's how long their resolve lasts before Dick is inviting you in for a drink, you must be hot in that uniform of yours, why don't you come inside? It's cool in the manor and he's sure your boss wouldn't miss you for a few minutes.

Jason, to his credit, really does try to be casual about his interest, of course it's anything but casual, he pretends to be working on his bike when you come to get his signature, purposely showing off as he takes his time signing, intense blue eyes staring at you with an intensity that made you sweat. He says a pretty girl like you shouldn't have to work so hard, that you should have someone to take care of you, you grit your teeth biting out a smile as you snatch the tablet back as soon as he finishes signing.

It isn't until your latest delivery do you put them on the do not deliver list, as usual they were together when you rang the doorbell, Dick smiles so brightly at you, you'd think you were delivering the stars in a neatly wrapped box. "Hey (y/n)!" He greets you like a long time friend instead of someone you'd only spoken to a handful of times, "You mind bringing that inside?" He asks the question and despite its oddity, you comply bringing the package inside.

Jason closes the door behind you, causing you to jump, when the hell did he get here?

"Good to see you bunny." He was always calling you pet names, far too intimate for your liking, he smirks before taking the box from your hands, his fingers purposely brushing against yours. "You're like a little messenger fairy."

You choose to ignore him, turning to Dick, you hold out the tablet for him to sign. "We'll get to that in a minute- why don't you sit down for a sec?" He sits on the couch patting the spot beside him. "I gotta get back to my route-"

"it's midnight, you guys stop delivering after midnight right?" Jason speaks up causing you to look at him, he looks way too satisfied with himself, catching you in a lie. Feeling trapped you sit on the couch reluctantly. "What's up?" You ask looking between the two, Jason remains standing his beefy arms crossed across his chest. God he made you uneasy.

"we've noticed how hard you've been working lately and since we're friends-" you don't hide the confusion on your face at the proclamation, "-We figured you could use a break." Dick spoke almost as if he was nervous. "Come on bunny, take a load off." Jason finally sat down sandwiching you between the two.

"or- and hear me out on this one, you sign for your package and I leave?" They share a look before Dick is almost sadly signing the tablet. "Well if you ever wanna just chill or something-"

You don't hesitate you leap off the couch and run out the door, heart slamming so hard in your chest you felt the rumble in your throat.

You thought you'd be done with them after putting their names on your company's do not deliver list, and for about a week you are, until they realize what's going on and collectively lose their minds.

Barbara couldn't stand seeing two of her closest friends so down, so unlike themselves, once they explain the situation to her she's quick to act, understanding their... particular intensity when it came to love, and clearly you'd stolen their hearts, she couldn't stand to see them so upset so she quickly devizes a plan to get you back where you belong.

All it takes is hacking into your company's files to find your route and schedule, it's like child's play to her to set up the meeting, she ordered a shit ton of stuff all for you unbeknownst to you of course, all items you'd need for your upcoming vacation, Bruce had a few private islands for situations just like this one, and it be the perfect place for Dick and Jason to break you in. By the time you left the little slice of paradise, you'd be a perfect little darling.

With a smile too pretty for her deeds, she presses confirm on the order and sends a text to the guys.

"Your Darling is approaching with your order."

[coco-loco-nut]

I Hate It Here

Pairing: Max x Sister Reader

Summary: Max takes a stand for his sister

TW: jos verstappen, mentioned abuse, depression, mentions of death, mentions of an affair

requests open masterlist ttpd masterlist

——————

With Max gone, you were the one subject to the wrath of Jos Verstappen, especially when you stopped karting after a couple years. So while your brother was off winning grand prix after grand prix, you were continually reminded that you aren’t good enough, that you were the dud of a child.

“Maxie, tell me a story,” you call your older brother in tears one night, you don’t blame him for the fact that you are a failure. You love your older brother more than anything.

With a heavy sigh, Max dives into a made up story, like he was a poet trapped inside the body of a race car driver, except he is an awful storyteller. He does but doesn’t want to know the BS your lame excuse for a father told you.

Max is your best, and only friend, your consolation prize for surviving this far. You stopped really leaving home years ago, only leaving to go to the grocery store. Even to your job, you were just another remote employee.

Max only ever wants the best for his sister, you haven’t seen Victoria since you were so young that you don’t really even know if she actually exists, so he is all you have. Victoria doesn’t really remember you either, seeing as how you were the child of an affair. Max always tries to bring you to races as a lucky charm, but your response is always the same ‘i don’t believe in good luck, maybe next time’. It’s like you are scared to leave home, safer in the comfort of the walls you’ve only ever known.

You pull out your headphones and listen to music, tuning out the world. You hate it here, you hate your father, but you only know of one way to escape. You close your eyes and go to the little paradise in your mind. You read about something similar when you were a kid from a book Max you. It sits on your nightstand, the spine worn and frayed from years of use.

That’s similar to how Max finds you when he arrives a couple weeks later. By now he is used to finding you in that state, you spend most of your free time in your own mind.

“Y/n? Where do you go? In your mind,” Max asks, laying beside you in your bed.

“A little garden, you need a key to get in though,” you say, a little dazed.

“And how would one get a key?” He asks further, trying to keep you engaged.

“There is only one, mine,” you reply, moving to grab your headphones again. Max quickly, but gently takes them.

“Charles was asking about you. He wanted to know how you were, since he hasn’t seen you since I joined F3,” Max continues, you just look at him, an oddity in your dark room.

“Charles?” You ask and Max nods.

“My friend, you thought he had a silly accent, and thought he was cute,” Max elaborates, searching your face to see a look of recognition. You just shrug.

“We used to play games, travel back in time to different decades. You loved the 1800s,” Max says, not ready to give up.

“I was a debutante,” you whisper causing Max to smile brightly. You just shake your head, you read once that nostalgia is a minds trick. “I bet I hated it, it is always freezing in the palace,” you say, unknowingly giving Max a glimpse into the secret escapes in your mind. In your fantasies you travel everywhere even to space. Secretly you love it, but you are more than content to stay at home, even if you hate it here.

“Come to the FIA Prize Giving with me, pretend it’s one of your fantasies,” Max says, you nod your head, already away in another world where only the gentle survive.

“Max? Am I going to die?” You ask out of the blue, well out of the blue for Max. He doesn’t know how to respond before you turn back into yourself. He stands up, watching you for a minute. You stayed out of your depression a minute longer than usual, a small win for him.

“Leave your poor sister alone,” Jos says, Max just glares at him. Jos is the man who made you like this and Max will never forgive himself for it.

“Y/n is coming with me to Monaco, for good. Since you don’t care about her, I will take care of her,” Max says, prepared to stand his ground.

“Whatever, if you want to tolerate her worthlessness, that’s up to you,” Jos waves his hand, one less failure in his home.

“Don’t call her that,” Max grits his teeth. He was going to wait a couple days, but perhaps it’s necessary to expedite it here.

“Yeah, yeah, she’s your problem now,” Jos walks away. Max returns to your bedroom, getting a suitcase from your closet. Only the essentials for now, the rest can be picked up tomorrow. He packs up as much as he can in an hour before somehow convincing you to go with him to his hotel. You just stare out the window of the car as he drives, clearly uncomfortable. Max gives you the bedroom and takes the pull out couch. He immediately dials Charles.

“Max? What happened?” Charles can hear the exhaustion in Max’s voice.

“I’m bringing Y/n back to Monaco with me, she’s basically being left to rot by Jos. She’s lonely and bitter, but swears she’s fine. Y/n gets lost in her mind on purpose, there’s this fantasy land that she saves the good parts -her romanticism- in her mind. I’m losing her,” Max chokes back a sob.

“Max, what do you mean, losing her?” Charles asks, more alert.

“She doesn’t eat, she’s depressed beyond imagination, doesn’t leave the house, spends the time she isn’t working remotely in her mind. This house, our father, makes her feel worthless. If I didn’t come tonight, she might’ve died. Charles, she asked me if she was going to die,” Max has your image ingrained in his memory, a little too thin and pale.

“I just texted Maman, she will come over and visit her for a little every day, make sure she eats,” Charles says, holding back his own tears. He remembers you fondly as the little girl with pig tails, always excited to spend time with her big brother.

You struggle with the move to Monaco, one you didn’t get a say in it, likely because you spend most of the year in your mind. You have come to grow more comfortable with the woman who visits you and uses food from your brother’s fridge to feed you.

“Y/n? Feel like talking today?” she gently asks, setting the food in front of you, like she does every day. You look up, and Pascale nearly cries, seeing you start to breaks through. Your blue eyes pierce hers.

“Tell me something awful, like you are a poet trapped in the body of a finance guy,”

[thekitsunesiren]

Dc x Dp Prompt #29

Okay! I have seen plenty of prompts on both tumblr and Ao3 to think of one of biggest misunderstandings that I could think of for Dc x Dp.

Amity Park being mistaken for a base camp for training child soldiers.

Because think of it!

Mr. Lancer's class all going to Gotham and being unphased by everything that was happening. In fact, some of them seemed even excited at the possibility of interacting with a rogue or possibly fighting them. And teacher did nothing but give them light warnings about causing too much trouble.

Of course it was thought to be big talk from outsiders who didn't know how dangerous Gotham truly was. Once they dealt with their first villain, they'd see how much trouble they really were in for.

But the thing was, they didn't.

Oh, they dealt with a criminal alright. It was the Penguin. He held up one of the museums the class was touring for some priceless item that he wanted.

Of course, Penguin thought that the group of newcomers were going to cow under the sight of the criminal and his goons. But standing there, he immediately found out of wrong he was.

The group didn't look scared. No. They looked excited at the sight of him and his goons.

A few of the teens were brimming with excitement at the sight of the criminal, though a few did look a bit disappointed. Not afraid-disappointed! He heard a few whispers of how upset that "the Joker wasn't the one to show" or "how they expected someone else to show up". Those words were enough to make his blood boil.

You know what? Screw these kids! He was going to show them that The Penguin wasn't someone you just go around and make fun of. So, he orders a few goons to put the kids in their place. Confident that once they were thrown around a bit, they'd know what kind of trouble they're in for when they come to Gotham.

But they. Don't. Get. Scared!

Not even a little bit. Not even a small flinch. He swore that he saw a few of them yawn! If the threat of roughening up wasn't going to do anything, then some action would definitely was. A goon thought this as they reached out to try and grab one of the students. Unfortunately, that student he grabbed was Valerie Gray, and she didn't take well to some stranger trying to grab her like that. Well, one shoulder throw lead to a brawl between gangsters and a bunch a teens that were touring around. And, to the horror of both the Penguin and all Gothamites watching, the teens won. All goons were seen on the floor either groaning or unconscious, the teens above them looking satisfied with their work, and their teacher on the sidelines looking irritated of the whole thing. Thankfully, the police arrived not too soon after that to arrest the goons and the penguins themselves; leaving all Gothamites confused about what just happened.

And it didn't stop there.

All over Gotham, both civilians and rogues alike would experience the oddity that would be the Amity bunch.

A barista witnessed Paulina stop a robbery with a well practiced kick in her high heels, all while the girl muttered about her morning coffee before going back to her order like nothing happened.

An old woman was saved from a mugging by a group of jocks. Though seeing as one stopped it by grabbing the mugger by the scruff of his neck, she supposed that the blond was the only one that she needed. And multiple civilians all over Gotham took note of a black haired and blue eyed kid that walked around with a goth girl and a boy with a red beanie. If he wasn't mistaken as a Wayne kid, he was causing havoc that had him on the news either way. Already the kid was caught fighting the Joker twice on purpose! As if he didn't seem crazy enough.

Strength, not scared by any of the rogues, even openly fighting the rouges? This class was continuing to grow on the "do not mess with" the longer they're in Gotham with everything they do.

And if you were to ask their teacher, he would simply sigh and say "There's so much he could do to control those hellions." It wasn't long before the Wayne family caught onto their arrival, and became immediately suspicious. A group of teens with abilities like that and fighting both rogues and goons as if they were nothing wasn't a mere coincidence. And from a place called Amity Park that's supposed to be the most "Haunted Place on Earth", there's no way something fishy going on.

Bruce, Tim, and Damian are the first to believe that they are all child soldiers of some sort. The youngest pointing out that Danny was one possibly meant to infiltrate their family for an unknown reason. The rest of the family are still cautious, but still don't know what they are here for.

Now they just had to get close enough to find out the reason the class was really here without setting off any alarms the possible assassins could have.

But they didn't take account the total weirdness they might face in infiltrating the class.

[ryescapades]

❝ [ querencia ] ╰┈➤ of the same thread (kaiju no. 8)

— iii. it's just one of those nights...

genre/warning: narumi gen x lil sis!reader, a bit of hurt/comfort, fluff, just a soft moment between you two

a/n: as much as i adore loser!narumi, i rly love his cool, ‘strongest combatant’ side even more and lowkey sad that it's not talked about as much :c mini series masterlist

in the midst of the concluded chaos, at the top of a half-destroyed three storey building and perching on the ledge. that was how you found your brother right after the battle was announced to be a huge win.

narumi peered behind him as he heard the soft pitter-patter of your footsteps. "aren't you joining the celebration? you're the mvp, after all," you chimed. well, isn't he always? narumi grinned, giving you a shrug. "not feeling like it tonight,"

it's rare, but it's also not uncommon for your brother to not be in the mood to rejoice in a successful mission. sensing the hint of blues in his manners, you ambled over and took a seat beside him, two pairs of legs dangling over the edge. the material of his numbers weapon suit brushed against your own combat one.

the both of you stare ahead at the mess you all left behind; the dead bodies of the monsters you'd slain and some casualties in the construction here and there. "what's on your mind, nii-chan?" you started, using the affectionate nickname you'd usually only use as a jest or when you two were alone.

it took a few minutes of silence before narumi spoke, "are you happy here?" here, as in working as a soldier in the defense force. he didn't say it outright, but you understood him just fine.

you were about to ask him about the oddity of that question but you stopped yourself, knowing that wasn't the response he would've preferred. "i am happy. i have a home, i have money, i don't have to worry about getting food on the table, i get to kill kaiju and save lives. and i have you,"

narumi chuckled airily at that, muttering a "true," under his breath. and then you added, "plus, i got a boyfriend now. that definitely makes me the happiest," your brother immediately glared at you in displeasure, "brat," he mumbled, giving you a rather hard pinch on the side of your waist.

he sifted his fingers through his black and grey hair before sighing, "would you feel the same if we weren't in this job?" this time, it was you who took a few moments to answer and when you did, it was one you prayed it would ease whatever worries that had been messing around in his head.

"yeah, i would. as i said before, i have you. we could be running around like two headless chickens trying to survive in an abandoned island, and i'd still enjoy every second of it. as long as you're there, nii-chan,"

narumi gave you a look of disbelief before reaching over to ruffle the top of your head with a smirk. "you're one hell of an ass-kisser, kiddo,"

"hey, mind you! that was purely genuine. why did you ask anyway?" you questioned, swatting his hand away and squinting your eyes at him. for the second time that night, narumi shrugged. "just feel like i could've done better at giving you a proper life, you know." he admitted seriously and quietly, staring down at his obnoxiously large weapon, the tip of the bayonet dug into a piece of rubble just by the entrance of the building down below.

your eyes widened a little at that, surprised at how much of that hidden vulnerability of his that he allowed you to see. the country’s strongest combatant, bearing the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"okay ew, stop that! now you're just being sappy," you grumbled, making a dramatic gagging noise. "shut up, i wasn't even trying to be!" your brother hissed in irritation, though it was clear to you both that it was just a way to lighten the mood.

your smile turned soft and you shifted closer, resting your head on his shoulder. "i am living a proper life right now. nothing beats having you here with me, nii-chan. you're like, the coolest brother ever!" you beamed, both exaggerating and honest.

"heh, damn right i am! now you better get ready because i'm dragging your ass to play games with me tonight to celebrate this mission!"

©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !

[ellecdc]

Rosier Twin Microfic

CW: untrue anatomy and physiology of earth worms, cruelty to earth worms, the general oddities that are the Rosier twins

Evan was exploring the grounds of the manor in search of his sister under the direction of their mother.

He found he didn’t mind all that much; the green of the trees and grass, the blue of the sky, and the pinks and reds of the flowers in the garden were all a welcome reprieve from the sad, dull grey and beige that ‘decorated’ the inside of their familial home.

That is, he hadn’t minded until he found himself sinking up to nearly his knees in loose soil as Pandora materialized from behind some shrubs.

“Evan! What have you done?” She chastised, not looking at her brother but rather where the bottom half of his legs had disappeared.

“What have I done?” Evan shot back incredulously. “What the hells is this?”

Pandora simply let out a displeased huff as she dropped her gardening spade and moved to help pull her brother out of the earth.

“You’re standing on my worms.” She admonished as he finally stepped onto solid ground, sure enough brushing loose soil and earth worms from his professionally tailored trousers and dragon-hide boots.

“What in Salazar’s name are you doing with a colony of earth worms?” He all but sneered at his sister who barely spared him a glance, though her face read ‘I can’t believe you asked such a ridiculous question’.

“The worms are good for the soil.” Pandora responded simply. “After the trouble the Honking Daffodils had with the gnome infestation, I figured they could use all the help they could get.”

Evan turned to survey the space; the worms did seem to be attempting to make their way towards the vegetation, though he really thought they’d be more effective coming from both sides of the plant.

“You ought to put some to the right of the plants, too, Panda.”

“I could only find fifty on the grounds, I don’t want to separate them from their family members.”

Evan fought the urge to roll his eyes as he bent down and dug a worm from the loose soil. “You know that you can cut them in half, right? Then you’d have twice as many and can establish colonies on either side.”

The expression on Pandora’s face told Evan she was warring with the side of her that hated the idea of chopping up living beings and the side of her that valued experimentation.

With one look in her brothers direction, Evan knew the decision she’d come to in her mind.

“I…don’t think I can cut the worms, Ev.”

So, that’s how both Evan and Pandora found themselves being scolded by their mother for being late for dinner (and rather filthy) as Evan spent the rest of the late afternoon cutting up earth worms for his twin sister.

[brattyfics]

Summary: Set against the eerie backdrop of the Florida swamps in the 1980s, this supernatural tale follows Adla Bennett, a woman navigating life after the loss of her father. When she discovers a wounded creature resembling a wolf on her porch, she takes it in for the night, only to find out the creature is a shapeshifter named Terry Richmond. He asks Adla for her help in locating his missing cousin, Mike, intertwining their fates in a way she never expected.

A/N: Divider by firefly-graphics. This is the beginning of my Swampbound story for Scary Terry Night (October 30) featuring Werewolf!Terry Richmond with my fave @uzumaki-rebellion! If you haven’t already, check out her Tattoos and Bloodsucker Blues preview. I struggled to choose an excerpt, so I’m sharing the entire first part. This story features supernatural elements and some mild gore, so please keep that in mind. Happy Reading!

Adla had spent all of her life in Florida, yet the strange things that washed ashore after storms still startled her. Destruction was to be expected—broken tree limbs, uprooted plants, even splintered pieces of homes carried away by the wind.

Tangled in seaweed, turtle hatchlings, along with frogs and crabs scurried frantically, struggling to reclaim their place in the chaos. Sometimes she'd find the occasional oddity: a tattered shirt, a weathered cloth bag, knotted fishing line.

But she'd never come across anything like this—a mangled, bloody deer carcass strewn across the tall grass, torn flesh and fur mingling with pieces of shredded cloth. 

Her instincts screamed at her to back, but curiosity got the better of her.

She knelt down, the air thick with the metallic scent of blood. Something violent had happened here. She scanned the scene, trying to make sense of it. 

A gator? No, they usually dragged their prey back into the water. 

Maybe a hawk? But even with its sharp talons, a bird of prey wouldn’t make this kind of mess. 

Possibly a bobcat? They prowled the swamps, their hunting disturbed by storms, always opportunistic. 

But no, the tracks didn’t match.

These footprints were too big—far too big. The prints were wolf-like but larger, deeper, as though the creature was far heavier than any wolf she'd ever heard of. 

Four prints ran parallel, perfectly spaced in the mud, until they faded into something stranger—two flatter, elongated impressions. 

Like feet. 

Human feet.

The footprints appeared far too big to be her own, and there shouldn’t have been anyone else wandering around the property.

A chill ran down her back even though the sun was shining. The mangrove seemed way too quiet, like the world was holding its breath. The usual racket of gulls and cicadas had vanished—like even they knew the storm had left more than just broken branches behind. One of the first lessons her father had drilled into her as a girl was to never run; not from a person nor an animal. 

Running makes you prey.

Adla pulled her hunting knife from her waistband, steadying her wrist as her eyes swept over the wide, open space around her. She was ready to defend herself if it came down to it, but there was nothing– no one hiding in the brush, no animal stalking her. Just thick humidity, carrying the earthy scent of wet soil and decaying leaves. 

She figured it was time to head back. 

With caution, she began her trek home, her footsteps muffled by the spongy ground, all while keeping a watchful eye on her surroundings. This land held secrets—some of which she had come to accept, and others she feared. 

The old myths— of beastly protectors with vengeful spirits, born of the swamp’s dark magic during the era of slavery— often lingered like shadows in the back of her mind, but today, the possibility felt much closer. The swamp was alive; gnarled roots of mangroves twisted out of the water like skeletal fingers and casted dark shadows on the surface of the water. 

Adla focused on the worn path ahead, until the low rumble of an engine made her pause.

She wasn’t expecting anybody—she never did. As a child, she had hated the isolation of living out here, but now? It kept the outside world at arm’s length, just as she wanted.

She hurried up the muddy incline, her boots kicking loose clumps of wet earth. At the porch of the old Cracker house, she leaned against the weathered wood, squinting down the overgrown path. A boxy, faded green Jeep Cherokee from the late '70s bounced along the uneven track, its tires struggling for traction in the soft ground. With an exasperated breath, she lowered the knife to her side.

It was none other than Jesse Hampton. She should’ve known.

The vehicle pulled to a stop, and Jesse stepped out, scanning the trees before his eyes settled on her. His mahogany skin glistened under the humid late-afternoon sun, and his damp t-shirt clung to his chest. His cap sat low, shadowing his normally neat hair, now curling wildly in the moisture. A few days' stubble covered his jaw—unusual for him but understandable after the chaos of the storm.

Even so, he was as handsome as ever.

"Adla," he called, his voice steady but laced with urgency. "You shouldn't be out here alone." His gaze darted behind her, as if sensing unseen dangers lurking in the shadows. "I get that it feels peaceful, but it's still dangerous."

The last thing she wanted was to give him more reason to worry or lecture her, so she swallowed the uneasiness she’d just felt moments before.

"You sound like my father, Jesse." She rolled her eyes, dismissing his caution. But Jesse's expression tightened, a hint of something unspoken hovering between them. He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Adla, just... promise me you'll watch yourself. You've got a light in you that attracts attention, and sometimes that attention ain't the kind you want."

The weight of his words hung in the space between them. She could feel the worry lacing his words and caught an uncharacteristic flicker of fear in his eyes that was hard to overlook. “Quit that. I’m fine,” she shot back, the nagging feeling returning to her chest. She hated when he used that tone– like he knew something she didn't. 

She couldn’t understand the source of Jesse's recent worries. They had grown up playing in the wild jungle that was her backyard, always safe. The worst they ever faced was a snake that sent them running to her father for protection. Wild boars and gators lurked about, but they didn't bother anyone who didn’t bother them. 

“Live and let live” had always served her well.

“What you doing out here?” she asked, crossing her arms tightly.

“Do I gotta have a reason now?” Jesse countered, flashing a charming smile. She wrinkled her nose, picking up on the mischief in his tone. “You always have a reason when you show up at my place unannounced. So, what’s the story this time?”

Jesse owned a bustling convenience store in town, but most of his income came from various side hustles. He was the go-to guy for anything anyone needed, always finding a way to get things done, no matter the cost. 

“Just checking in on you, that’s all. Wanted to see how you were holding up after the storm. But if I’m not welcome…” He paused, a mock-serious expression crossing his face. “I can turn right back around.”

Adla scoffed, turning her back on him as she ascended the steps of the screened-in porch. “You say that every time, but you always end up following me inside.” He fell into step behind her, his boots thudding against the weathered floorboards. “You don’t even bother asking if you can come in anymore,” she teased, shooting him a sidelong glance.

“After all the times I’ve been here, why would I bother? Especially when you’ve welcomed me in plenty of times.” He leaned against the doorframe with an easy grace, arms crossed and a playful glint in his eye. “Sometimes at night, if I’m not mistaken.”

Adla shook her head as she headed to the kitchen. “Come on, Jess, that ain’t the same, and you know it.” 

She opened the fridge and retrieved a pitcher of cold water, then grabbed one of the glass cups from the cupboard. After she poured, she handed it over to him, her hands wrinkled from long hours spent clearing debris in the yard. When he took the cup, their fingers brushed against each other, stirring the subtle tension that always rested just below the surface between them.

“Now, why you gotta put it like that?” Jesse asked, a pouty frown appearing on his face as he took a sip.

“'Cause I need you to get this,” Adla paused, choosing her words carefully. “I don’t like folks showing up here without a heads-up, and that goes for you too.” She hoped her sweet smile softened the message. Before anything, he was her closest friend, and she never wanted to hurt him. 

He grinned, leaning casually against the counter beside her. She considered asking if he’d been snooping around her property without her knowing— Jesse was sneaky like that— but figured it’d raise too many questions if he said no.

He set his glass down, inching closer with a mischievous glint in his eye. “I thought I was special, though.” 

She arched an eyebrow, a smile tugging at her lips. “Now, where’d you get an idea like that?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” He tugged a curl loose from her messy ponytail, the spiral bouncing back like a rubber band. “I figured if I did that thing you like enough times, it might earn me a few privileges around here.”

She fought a smile. “What kind of privileges are we talking about?” 

“The kind that lets me show up whenever I feel like it.” He leaned in, his intentions clear as he tried to kiss her, wanting more than just a friendly chat. Adla pressed her palm against his chest, stopping him in his tracks.

Jesse was undeniably handsome, and she enjoyed having him around, but she wasn’t about to let anyone—no matter how charming—think they had a claim on her. She was in charge of her life, and she liked it that way. Getting serious with Jesse, no matter how often he hinted at it, simply wasn’t part of her plans. Especially knowing other women were enjoying that thing she liked too.

“No, sir,” she replied, a playful smile tugging at her lips as she shook her head, trying to lighten the mood. “You thought wrong. But since you’re already here, you might as well lend me a hand with something.”

“Oh yeah?” He leaned in, steadily pressing closer, an eyebrow raised as his interest deepened. “And what would that be?”

“You can come help me set these traps and see what else washed up after the storm,” she said, avoiding his lips to steal a drink from his cup. She hoped to score some fat crabs and a few fish to stock the freezer for the next few days. Her generator had held up well during the storm, keeping the food fresh, but it was always smart to restock. Hurricane season wasn’t over yet and she felt a bit uneasy about heading back into the woods by herself. 

“Aww, man,” Jesse groaned dramatically. “I should’ve known that coming over here meant I was gonna have to work. You’re a real slave driver, girl, you know that?”

They spent the next couple of hours working side by side, enjoying a comfortable rhythm of silence mixed with casual conversation.

First, they checked her garden for storm damage while Jesse caught her up on the latest town gossip—apparently, Mrs. Flowers had been caught with Mr. Jenkins in Mr. Flowers' house. The mustard greens were ruined, uprooted and twisted by the wind, so she pulled them up. Thankfully, the okra and sweet potatoes had weathered the storm just fine; she just hoped the excess moisture wouldn’t lead to any rot.

Next, they moved on to setting her fishing nets and traps, but instead stumbled upon another surprise.

Like the mangled bird she'd spotted earlier, several fish heads littered the bank where she usually set her traps, alongside crab skeletons missing their claws and backs, stripped bare. This wasn’t the typical gator damage—no, this was something far worse, disturbingly messy and strange for the area’s usual predators.

She scanned the ground for any more footprints but saw nothing. No paw prints or torn cloth either.

“What in the world?” Adla muttered, staring at the destruction. “What you think did this? A gator?”

Jesse leaned down, his brow furrowed. “A gator wouldn’t leave pieces like this.”

“Something else did this,” She finished his sentence. Adla’s skin prickled and suddenly, hiding her unsettling feelings from earlier felt foolish. She described the strange prints and the shredded bird she’d found to Jesse as he listened intently. He ran his hands over her shoulders, trying to soothe her.

“You shouldn’t stay out here alone tonight, Addy. Why don’t you spend the night at my place?”

Adla couldn’t shake the feeling of unease about what the darkness might bring, but she couldn’t take Jesse up on his offer, even if his grandmother’s old house was just a few miles up the road.

The old woman had adored her, having been the one to deliver her. Still, it just didn’t feel right to spend the night in another woman’s house, even if that woman was no longer alive.

Plus, sneaking around with Jesse where others could see was out of the question. 

She wasn’t about to give anyone a reason to stir up drama or question her independence. Lord knows she couldn’t bear the thought of becoming the next Mrs. Flowers, her good name dragged through the mud to anyone willing to listen.

“No one—and nothing—is gonna run me out of my house,” she replied, her stubbornness rising to the surface. This place was her sanctuary, the fruit of her labor and her ancestors' struggles. They’d fought hard for what they had, and she felt a fierce pride in maintaining the one thing that truly belonged to her. 

Out here in the swamps, peace was something you earned, not given. She would defend her home if it came to that.

“You don’t even know who or what it is, and you want to stay out here alone? That doesn’t make a lick of sense, baby doll,” Jesse insisted, his persistence typical but unusually intense.

“I’m not your ‘baby doll,’” she shot back, irritation rising. He seemed to be making a habit of testing her clearly established boundaries more recently. 

“I already told you—I’m staying here. You should head out before it gets dark.”

“Come on, don’t be like that—” Jesse began, his voice smooth like molasses. He might’ve been charming, but today, she wasn’t about to let those sweet words sway her.

“Go,” she pressed, stepping forward to cut him off. “I’ll handle the cleanup and make sure everything’s locked up tight, but I want you to leave—now, please.” 

Jesse held her gaze for a long moment, recognizing that determined look in her eye. He knew better than to push too far when she was set on something. “Alright, I’ll go,” he finally relented. “But I need you to promise me you won’t leave the house tonight. Whatever you do, don’t cross that threshold, okay?”

Her face contorted at his strange choice of words.

“Why would I be outside? I’m not foolish enough to wander around out here at night. What’s got you so riled up today, anyway?” She reached out and grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulling him closer. 

“Just trust me on this,” he urged, his tone serious as he finally locked eyes with her. She’d never seen him look so grim before—what was he hiding? 

“You’ll be safe if you stay inside tonight.” He repeated carefully. 

Last she checked, danger didn’t give a damn about doors, but it was clear he wasn’t leaving until he knew she’d listen to his advice. 

“Alright,” she said, dragging the word out as her confusion showed. “I’ll stay inside tonight. Not like I was planning on wandering around anyway.”

“Good,” he murmured, pressing his lips to her forehead and lingering there as she wrapped her arms tightly around him. “I’ll call you tonight, and you better answer. If you don’t, I’ll be back out here, with or without your blessing.”

As he turned to leave, Adla couldn’t help but smile after him. Jesse could be a handful, but beneath that cool exterior, she knew he cared for her as fiercely as she did for him. 

In the wilderness of the swamps, that bond meant everything.

He lingered in her driveway while she hurried to gather the crab shells, tossing them into her compost bin—no sense letting them go to waste. He didn’t start his engine and pull away until she was safely inside with the door closed, waving his goodbye from the street as she watched him from the window.

After locking up, she sank into a well-deserved bubble bath, a simple yet sweet reward for a day’s hard work. The clawfoot tub, older than she was but still in impeccable shape, had become a beloved fixture in her home. 

The bathroom, filled with the soothing scents of incense and candles, wrapped around her like a comforting hug. After her father’s passing, her top priority had been to breathe life back into the old house and make it feel like home again.

Every now and then, she spotted reminders of her past, like the doorframe where her father had marked her height on the first day of school every year or the cast-iron pans he used to whip up their dinners each night. But mostly, she had truly claimed the space as her own—weathered yet undeniably new in some ways– hers. 

Her short time in the city had been a far cry from the peace she now enjoyed in the country. Balancing multiple jobs just to get by, she constantly dealt with nosy neighbors prying into her life, questioning why a young woman like her was living on her own. The men she met often couldn’t take “no” for an answer, turning her daily life into a constant struggle against unwanted advances.

Worse yet, she had attracted the attention of a stalker—someone she’d never even seen who kept slipping threatening handwritten notes under her apartment door, claiming they knew who she was and had been watching her. It was both terrifying and emotionally draining, but she hadn’t tucked her tail and run home until her father died. 

Whenever thoughts of him lingered too long, the guilt of not being there when it mattered most consumed her, so she kept herself busy. 

Her part-time job at the new bed-and-breakfast in town helped her pay the bills and left her enough time to create. On weekends, she sold her art—pieces made from found objects collected in the woods—at the flea market a couple of towns over. Any spare moment was spent bringing something to life, whether sculpting or tending to her flowers. She loved working on the coastal hibiscus that grew in her yard, their bright blooms a small splash of beauty against the swampy backdrop. Her life wasn’t glamorous, but the peace she found in it was worth far more than anything else.

“When You're Young and in Love” by The Marvelettes played softly on the record player. It had been one of her mother’s cherished favorites, or so her father often reminisced. To Adla, the song captured the slow, simple peace she felt only at home. While she couldn’t completely understand the carefree idea of being swept away by a fleeting romance, it still forged a bond with the mother she never got the chance to know.

Her father had only a handful of pictures, but from those, she could see the resemblance. She had inherited her father’s height and perhaps his temperament, but everything else came from her mother—her rich skin tone, flat nose, and wide, expressive eyes. Those features made her feel close to a woman whose memory was etched in her heart but absent from her life.

With a soft sigh, Adla rose from the now-cool bathwater, wrapping a towel snugly around her waist. Taking a moment for herself, she slathered on a generous layer of cocoa butter lotion, the rich, nutty scent enveloping her like a comforting embrace from home. Her earlier worries faded into the background. Satisfied, she slipped into an oversized cotton nightgown, covered in bright floral patterns that mirrored the blooms in her garden. 

She went through her nighttime routine, carefully checking that everything was turned off and every door was locked tight. As she switched off the last light in her cozy home, the old wooden floors creaked softly beneath her feet—a comforting sound that added to the charm of the place.

Just as she was about to settle into bed, faint sounds echoed from outside—rhythmic, insistent scraping and thumping carried to her ears by the wind. Strange noises weren’t uncommon out in the boonies, but something about this one sent a shiver down her spine, drawing her into the hallway.

Adla glanced toward the door, a strange compulsion tugging at her, urging her to step outside despite Jesse's warnings. It felt as if something—or someone—was calling her, and the pull was too strong to ignore. She hesitated, biting her lip, fighting the overwhelming temptation.

Something clattered loose as she unlocked the heavy door and pushed it open. Through the screen, a flicker of movement caught her eye. Adla squinted, trying to make sense of the dimness outside. There, bathed in the cold glow of the moonlight, lay a massive creature. Its shadow loomed so large that it seemed to stretch across the entire porch.

A knot twisted in her stomach. What in the world? This wasn’t no bobcat. This creature was more like a coyote, but much larger. It resembled a wolf, though she knew they didn’t roam these parts of Florida. Its amber eyes glowed like lanterns in the dark of the night, locking onto her with an intensity that sent chills racing down her spine. Jesse’s warnings echoed in the back of her mind. What if this creature was more than it seemed? 

I know this fool ain’t lookin’ at me like I’m dinner. 

Adla squared her shoulders, drawing on every ounce of strength she had. “You don’t belong here,” she called out, her voice steady and commanding. “Now, git!”

The wolf let out a low growl, a deep rumble that reverberated through the still night air, commanding her silence. It took a slow step forward, large paws thudding against the wooden floor, and she noticed it was limping. 

A deep gash ran from its back down to one of its hind legs, blood dripping from the wound and staining the old wood beneath it. The sight of its injury stirred something deep within her—a mix of concern and fascination that left her momentarily spellbound. It was odd but something kept her feet rooted in place, drawn to the creature and its imposing presence for reasons she couldn’t quite understand.

“Don’t you come any closer,” she warned, her heart racing as she reached for the shotgun she kept above the door, her gaze fixed on the beast. Adla tightened her grip on the cold metal, the weight of the gun both comforting and alarming as she aimed it at the creature through the screen.

The wolf paused right in front of her, as if held back by something she couldn’t see or understand. She glanced down at the door’s threshold, recalling Jesse’s cryptic words.

This was her moment—a choice between life or death. But Adla found herself frozen, her finger hovering over the trigger, unable to pull it. 

The large, beautiful creature let out a mournful whine before collapsing in a heap on her porch, nearly at her feet, its strength finally giving out as if it had resigned itself to whatever fate awaited it.

Despite its pain, something flickered in its amber gaze—a silent plea, asking not to be seen as a threat. The creature’s body shook, not with aggression, but with a desperate need to protect itself rather than harm her. The sight of that defeated animal struck a chord deep within her, stirring up memories of her own struggles not so long ago—exhausted by the burdens of life, yet somehow still pushing forward. 

A lesson her father had once shared echoed in her mind: “Listen, baby girl, we only take what we need from this world, and we don’t kick folks when they’re already down. Respect the creatures out here, just like you respect yourself. Life's tough enough without us makin’ it harder on each other.” She could almost hear his voice, the warmth of his wisdom wrapping around her like a protective blanket. 

Adla let out a deep sigh, lowering the shotgun. She hoped the wolf had enough sense to slip off her porch and find its way back through that little doggy door, the one that had been shredded and left with a gaping hole. Sure, it was already intruding on her space, but it showed no signs of being able to bust down her doors with its weakened strength.

The blood staining the porch was already beginning to dry, and she knew she’d have to scrub it down in the morning. If the wolf didn’t make it through the night and died on her porch, she could always call Animal Control to handle it— it wouldn’t cost her a dime to let the creature have one more night of life. 

That thought offered a flicker of comfort as she triple-checked that both the screen door and the sturdy wooden door were locked tight for the night.

Adla placed the shotgun within arm’s reach and settled into bed, her mind lingering on the wolf outside. She couldn’t shake the strange pull she felt. Yet, there was a quiet resolve in her heart—she would let the creature be. 

Maybe it wasn’t just a wolf. Maybe it was something more—a mirror reflecting her own struggles and wounds, a sign sent from her father to teach her something. The night was thick with uncertainty, but she felt no fear, only calm curiosity. She’d done all she could for now. 

As sleep tugged at her, she hoped that the wolf, with its heavy wounds and haunted eyes, would make it through the night. Tomorrow, she’d face whatever came next, but for now, she surrendered to the stillness, trusting that both she and the wolf would both survive until morning.

I’m open to any feedback, especially since this is my first time finishing and publishing something of this length. Does this preview raise engaging questions that make you want to know more, or is something unclear or missing? Did it draw you in or did it drag on? Please let me know your thoughts. Any insight would be invaluable to me as I continue to develop the story. (Send an anonymous ask if necessary).

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

Last Night In The Neighborhood☆

《You're my world, you are my night and day. You're my world, you're every prayer I pray..》

《Warnings: the subject matter this ARG has are potentially disturbing. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. Welcome Home was created by Clown @/partycoffin 》

-

Moving from your old home is a scary thing, whether you don't care for the danger ahead. Change is different, it's an oddity.

So when you find an old soundtrack album of a kids show from the 70s when you were unpacking. You grow curious.

Noticing a dusty old record player in the farther corner, you try to recall how to even use one. Begrudgingly searching up how to work the machine on your phone. You smile in pride as the vinyl disc starts to swirl about.

Picking up the album cover, you look over the design.

A cast of colorful characters smiles on the cover. Their expressions are forever saved in place, at least eight puppet-looking creatures waved or paid attention to the viewer. Even a little odd house with windows for eyes.

As if they stared right back at you.

Ignoring your uneasiness, you place the item down near the record-player and continued unpacking the little items you brought. That moving truck better be here by tomorrow..

Your feet tap to a few songs, occasionally singing or humming along clumsily with your own made-up lyrics.

When it became nighttime, you were uneasy, the loud noises from outside, and your paranoid self couldn't handle the stress. Grabbing a random record, you place the needle on the disc and throw the covers over yourself. Trying to drown out the world for at least a little peace.

-

Waking up to bright lights and rainbow color schemes surprised you. Your legs moved on their own as they take in the sights and sounds of this weird dream.

Houses and streets greet you, along with music that you swore was playing before you fell asleep.

Coming closer to the source of the music, you were shocked by the characters on the album singing and dancing to the rhythm.

One of them notices you and waves you over to join them.

You smile, this was a dream you could get used too.

Joining in with your messy lyrics and footwork. The puppets greet you with open arms and cheers.

When the song finishes, one of them comes up to you. They smile gently, holding out their hand for a handshake, asking for your name.

You tell them, ask for their own.

Before they could say it, they were interrupted by a pink monster girl.

"My name is Julie! That frowny face over there is my best buddy! Frank Frankly! Oh! And over here is..." She continued as she finally finishes with the blue-haired puppet who was shaking your hand.

Not once letting his eyesight stray away from you. "He's Wally! Wally Darling!" Julie said.

She then whispers into your ear loudly. "He's a painter! He likes to paint pretty things.."

The rainbow monster giggles, nudging you coyly and side-eyeing the other puppet.

He appeared uncaring of his friends' teasing, he only smiles. His attention was solely on you, it made you feel... Special.

He made you feel special.

In the following days, you felt yourself changing, you were happier. Content with your daytime life and nighttime shenanigans with Wally and the rest of the puppets.

Hell, even your clothes were starting to change into a whole new style. The colors and lengths become more in tune with the type of clothes your friends wore in your dreams.

Yes. They were your friends, especially Wally, he had become your closest friend in your polychromatic fantasy.

And you couldn't be more thankful. At least, in the beginning...

The more you slept, the longer you stayed, it felt as if the world where Wally resided wouldn't let you leave. As if it was crying out for you to come back whenever you woke up.

You couldn't handle the newfound drowsiness you found yourself in day in and day out. It started to take a toll on you, to the point where you feared to sleep. Afraid that if you fell back into the fantasy, you may never leave.

《If our love ceases to be. Then it's the end of my world for me..!》

-

[For context! This was based off Last Night In Soho, were a girl dreams about a mysterious girl in the late 60s. I was inspired to write my version of it it with a mix of welcome home! Thank you for reading! Fan art and reblogs are appreciated! Helps with creativeness, also, to my [WElcome To Your New HomE] fans, sorry for not a new update!]

[ahlyasimps]

Would You Still Love Me? [O.G.]

Pairing: Ominis Gaunt x GN Reader

Summary: Feeling insecure about your appearance, you distance yourself from your boyfriend.

A/N: Requested by Anon! I’ve been super busy lately so I’ve only been able to write this up on the bus, on my phone, on the notes app. Please look away from any grammatical/spelling errors 🤭

As you walked into your potions class, you couldn't help but feel a little excited. Not because of the class itself, but because you knew your boyfriend Ominis would be there.

You looked forward to seeing him in every class you shared (which, lucky for you was all of them). There was just something about seeing him concentrate on his work or watching the way he scrunched his eyebrows whenever he encountered a particularly difficult question that made the boring classes that much more enjoyable.

You spotted Ominis at his usual spot at the back of the class, flanked on one side by Sebastian. With the help of his "sentient" wand, he was carefully measuring out ingredients to prep for the class.

As you made your way towards your own desk, just in front of his, you couldn't help but steal glances at him. His hair was slightly disheveled, an oddity for the normally so put together Ominis, but it made him look even more handsome.

"There you are," Sebastian sighed exasperated "Ominis won't shut up about wanting to see you."

You giggled as you sat down at your desk and started to gather your own supplies, before turning around to face the two boys. But before you could say anything Ominis' face caught you attention. While granted, it was a stunning face, you realized something was very, very off. His eyes were no long glazed and pale. Instead, his pupils were a clear blue.

You saw the unfamiliar eyes widen and his normally gentle face morphed into one of disgust. The lips that only ever used to whisper loving words to you were pulled into a sneer “Please tell me this is a joke Sebastian. There is no way I’m dating someone who looks.... like that.” He spat those last words with a venom you’ve never heard from him.

You sat staring at him in shock and joy over the fact that he could see before the cruel words he uttered finally registered in your mind. He didn’t like your appearance? He actually felt disappointed? You felt your vision become hazy from the unshed tears. It was like everything was crashing down. 

“Ominis..what?..Why are you saying this?” You started asking before Professor Sharp entered the room and the scene seemed to vanish in your mind.

Panting you jolted awake, a tear trickling down your cheek and hair plastered to your forehead from sweat. You look around the room in confusion before finally registering that the events you just saw were merely a dream. Instead of the cold potions room, you find yourself in your dorm room, surrounded by familiar surroundings that bring you comfort. The cool glow of the night light illuminates the room, casting a soothing light that calms yours nerves. You take a deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering feeling of shock and betrayal that still lingers from your nightmare.

You notice the familiar Quidditch posters on the walls, the pictures of family and friends on the nightstands, and the sound of your dormmates' steady breathing from across the room. In a dream where the person you viewed as your anchor was unfamiliar, these common sights helped to serve as a reminder that it was all a dream.

Not quite satisfied though, you reach for the pictures on your own nightsand. The bright smiles of your family look up at you from the frame but it's the other photo you have that captured your attention. Ominis had grumbled about taking a group photo when Sebastian had suggested it but one plea from you and he folded. This prompted Sebastian to groan at how easy Ominis was to convince saying he was such a sap. Naturally, this earned Sebastian a stinging hex from Ominis causing brunette to complain about his best friend's "stupid sentient wand". The memories of that day bring a smile to your face as your lightly run your fingers over the frame. Your boyfriend's bright blue eyes from the dream flash in your mind so you go under your blanket to cast Lumos with the photo in hand. Instead of the haunting eyes full of disgust, you see the comforting pale eyes that you fell in love with.

You stop casting Lumos and return the picture back to your nightstand before settling down in your bed once more. While it's clear that everything was a dream, the eyes confirmed it, you couldn't help but feel the seeds of doubt start growing in your chest. You have thought about it of course, if Ominis were able to see, how would he view you? Would he still hold you close or would he be disgusted at the appearance he saw. You had never shared these thoughts with him of course. And while the fact that he liked you for your personality brought you some comfort, people talk. You've heard the snide comments people made when they thought you couldn't hear. Normally, it wouldn't bother you but laying in bed, still reeling from the dream that touched a little too close to home, you couldn't helo but feel your anxiety grow.

A loud snore interrupts your thoughts reminding you that it's still late at night and you need sleep. A quick glance at the clock confirms as much, 4 hours left until daybreak. You sigh burrowing further into the pillow knowing that this sleep will be a restless one.

The morning light from the window and the chirping of the birds wakes you up the next morning. Your dormmates were still asleep but that's go be expected. You wake up earlier than most normally. After getting ready for the day you head down to the common room, the only people down there were those who had passed out after a night of studying. Carefully making your way past them you head to the Great Hall. Some food would do you well after the nightmare of last night.

"[Y/N]!" Sebastian shouts from his spot at the Slytherin table. He waves you over and you notice Ominis visibly perk up at your name. Nightmare Ominis briefly flashes through your mind when you him but you quickly shake the thought away. You make a beeline for the Slytherin table and plop yourself next to Ominis. Hearing the noise to the right of him he looks over and smiles in your direction. You peck him on the cheek (much to Sebastian's annoyance) and laugh as you see Ominis' ears turns a bright red. "Geez, it's too early to see you two snogging."whines Sebastian.

"We're not snogging Sebastian, you're so childish." Ominis retorts.

"Still too early to feel like a third wheel, I haven't even finished breakfast."

You laugh at their antics and grab hold of Ominis' hand before eating.

Breakfast passed by quickly with Sebastian grabbing Ominis and dragging him away to help him with something back at the dorm. Finding yourself alone you decide to head to the library and starting writing your report on Dittany and its uses for Professor Garlick.

"Honestly, a Gaunt settling for THEM? It's embarrassing."

"Agreed, but did you see them yesterday? Their hair was a mess! Completely unworthy of dating Gaunt."

You stopped in your tracks after hearing this conversation and peeked into the corridor to see two Slytherin girls talking.

"Hah!" One of them laughed. "They know they can't date anyone with that appearance. Of course they go for the only blind student."

The other snickered "If Ominis could see them, I just KNOW he'd be horrified that that's the troll he's been dating all this time"

Tears pricked your eyes and you ran back to your dorm so you wouldn't hear more. As you make your way back to your dorm, you feel the weight of the cruel comments bearing down on you. You knew that some people in Slytherin were known for their elitist and prejudiced attitudes, but it still stung to hear those words. You couldn't help but wonder if Ominis would really be disgusted with your appearance if he could see. As you lay down on your bed, you try to push the hurtful words out of your mind. You know that they don't define you, and that Ominis cares for you deeply regardless of your appearance. But the doubts and insecurities still linger, and you find yourself slipping into a gloomy state of mind.

It's only when your dormmates start to stir and chatter that you decide to get up and face the day. You try to put on a brave face, knowing that you have classes to attend and friends to meet. You head to your first class, trying to keep your head down and not attract any unwanted attention. Upon entering the Transfiguration classroom, you spot Sebastian and Ominis already there with the former waving you over. Pretending as though you didn’t notice you decide to go sit down next to Poppy who looks at you in confusion. You could feel Sebastian’s eyes on you and when you look up you see him whispering to Ominis. Your boyfriend looked confused, brows furrowed and a frown on his lips. It looked like he was about to stand up when you were saved by Professor Weasley starting class.

Before Poppy could ask any questions and before Ominis could corner you to ask what’s wrong, you raced out of the class the minute you were dismissed. On your way out you didn’t miss the shock on Sebastian face or the hurt one on Ominis’ when he realized you left abruptly.

After the hurtful conversation you overheard in the hallway earlier, you couldn't bear to face Ominis. The thought of him finding out what people were saying about you and agreeing made you feel sick to your stomach. Just like in Transfiguration, you continued to avoid him for a few days, making excuses not to meet up with him or sit next to him in classes. You knew that he noticed your absence and was becoming more and more concerned, but you didn't know how to face him.

One day, as you were heading to the library between classes, you saw Ominis walking towards you. You, him and Sebastian always hung out in the Undercroft whenever there was spare time so you knew Ominis was looking for you. Your heart started racing, and you felt like running in the opposite direction. But he had already heard your footsteps, and there was no way to avoid him. He told you once that when he becomes more familiar with someone, he’s able to tell who they are just based on the sounds they make when they walk, a skill that was not working in your favour right now.

"Hey," he said as he approached you, his voice soft and gentle. "I've been looking for you. Is everything okay?"

You couldn't look at his face, so you stared at your feet and mumbled a response. "I'm fine, just busy with schoolwork and stuff."

He didn't seem convinced, and you flinched when his cold hands reached out trying to hold your face. "Is something bothering you? You can tell me, you know that, right?"

You wanted to tell him everything, to spill your heart out and let him know how much him being disappointed in your looks scared you, and how hurt you were by the cruel comments people were making. But the words just wouldn't come out. Instead, you shrugged and muttered something about needing to get to class, before you tried to quickly walk away.

You felt terrible for avoiding him, but you didn't know how to face him without breaking down. The guilt ate away at you, and you knew that you couldn't keep avoiding him forever.

Ominis however, wasn’t going to let you keep avoiding him. “Please, please can you just talk to me?” he begged hearing you turn around.

The desperation in his voice broke down your resolve and so you gently reach out and grabbed his hand to lead him over to a nearby bench.

As you both sat down, Ominis angled himself towards you, a pleading look on his face.

“I had a dream.. well more like a nightmare last night.” You explained wringing your hands in your lap before continuing to describe every heart wrenching detail. “And, I know it was stupid and didn’t really let it get to my at first. Until I overheard some girls talking about us.”

“Us?”

“As in our relationship, like how you’re a member of the great Gaunt family but you’re with ME of all people.” Ominis’ faced hardened in anger but you quickly kept on talking so he wouldn’t interject.

“I know but that’s not really what bothered me. It’s what they said next; about how of course the only person I can manage to date is the blind person who doesn’t know what I look like. It- it just made me really insecure about my appearance and that combined with the nightmare I had all became too much.”

“So you think I’d have never even entertained dating you if I saw you face?” He choked out, upset you would even think that.

"I don't care what you look like," Ominis says firmly, "I fell in love with you for who you are, not what you look like.” He groaned “Salazar, I know that sounds cliché, but it's true. The love I have for you was born from your words, actions, and personality. And nothing could ever change that."

You feel tears prick at your eyes, the doubt slowly dissipating from your heart.

He chuckled lightly "I'm sorry for what I said in your dream," he continues, his feeling around to reach yours. "I would never say anything like that to you in real life. I love you, [Y/N], and I always will."

You look into his face, seeing nothing but sincerity and love. You realize how foolish you've been, letting a nightmare get in the way of your relationship with Ominis.

"I'm sorry," you say, your voice choked with emotion. "I should've talked to you instead of avoiding you."

"It's okay," he says, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand. "I understand. But please know that I'm always here for you, no matter what."

You lean into him, feeling his arms wrap around you in a warm embrace. In that moment, you know that your doubts and fears were nothing but a silly nightmare. 

“Hey, Ominis?” You asked wriggling out of the warmth of his arms to intertwine your hands with his once more.

“Hmm?”

“Would you still love me if I was a snake?”

The deadpan look on his face made you double over in laughter.

[wxth3r1ngflxw3r]

Trick or Treat 👻 :DDD

Sorry to ask again, but I wanna see your take on this cause your brain is super interesting!

Captain Marvel gets caught nearby an elementary school?

I'm always happy to receive asks, so feel free to flood my inbox :D

He wasn't difficult to spot.

It's hard to hide when you're as big as him, yet he does it surprisingly well. In a city like his, it wasn't outside the norm for oddities to go unnoticed or ignored.

"How can they not see him?" queried Robin from where he hid beneath the cape. Batman signaled at him to keep it down, watching the man intently.

So yes, if you were wondering, the over 7 foot tall man in a trench coat was not a cause of alarm to any of the Fawcitizens picking up their children. Bruce perched on the uncomfortably short building, hiding behind a large billboard.

Fawcett's architecture was... Interesting, to say the least. It was perpetually stuck in the 1950s, yet you'll stumble across all sorts of relics from eras long forgotten, buildings old enough to be classified as artifacts, and then you'd walk three blocks and find a building that was surely breaking the laws of time travel, at least 50 years ahead of everyone else.

No, the 7 foot man in a trenchcoat lurking outside the school did not draw any attention to himself by his sheer presence. In fact, all eyes seemed to skip right past him.

All but the pair of strikingly blue eyes of short little girl. The man's head perked up at the sight, the little girl's too-big backpack bouncing with her steps.

"Bi- Mark!" She squealed, jumping into his arms. The man's glasses slipped off his face just a bit, and it hit Bruce just how blue his eyes were, too. The glowing lightning bolt insignia on his chest cast a golden light on her face.

"Hiya there! How was school?" He asked, setting her down as they walked into an alleyway. Her excited rambling slowly faded away the further they got, until there was nothing.

Robin took that as his cue, jumping out from underneath the cape.

"Oh my gosh, Batman! Captain Marvel is Captain Dad! Can I please please pleaaasse be friends with his daughter? Please?" Jason talked a mile a minute.

"Don't speak a word of this to anyone, okay chum?" Batman sighed after a moment of rapid fire questions. Jason mimed zipping his lips with a wide smile. A crack of thunder in broad daylight accompanying the gesture.

By morning, the entire watchtower knew of Cap's secret daughter. If you were to ask for their source, they'd say a little birdie told them.

[respectthepetty]

My Love (Color) Mix-Up

Disaster bisexual Aoki and stoic (aro?) Ida of My Love Mix-Up/Kieta Hatsukoi are color-coded boys in love, but unlike most series where the colors are quickly given, seeing the colors emerge throughout the series was a key part of the narrative.

So we must start with the plot:

Aoki likes Hashimoto who is a Green Gal (lively and hopeful).

When Aoki thinks about her or speaks to her, he is engulfed in his color, like in this moment, he is looking at her.

But normally, this Orange Oddity's color is muted (optimistic and communicative).

Because he thinks Hashimoto likes Ida who is a Blue Boy (stable and loyal).

Yet an eraser causes Ida to believe Aoki likes him.

Instead of freaking out, Ida says "bet" and so begins the delicious color extravaganza!

As mentioned, Aoki's color is muted.

But the second Ida starts paying him some attention, Aoki's color starts evolving.

First, he morphs from tan to yellow

After Ida works with Aoki in the play and immerses him in blue

But Aoki is worried about Hashimoto's feelings since he believes she likes Ida. He discusses this with her while both are highlighted by their color with hints of the other person lingering in the shots.

Yet Hashimoto informs Aoki that she actually likes Aida, Ida's Red Rascal friend (more like a Red Flag if you ask me, but he is spontaneous and energetic).

The entire class has to go on a trip, and Aoki feels more confident in his color after Ida confesses to wanting to try being with Aoki.

Once they get back home, Aoki freaks out

But he does a great job of covering it up.

Not really. Not at all. The boy is losing it! His love for Ida is evolving quickly and his emotions are written all over him in his brightening color. Some issues emerge with Hashimoto and Aida (telling you that he is a giant Red Flag!), so Aoki mutes his color a bit to not rub salt in his friend's wound, yet his tutor even notices Aoki in love, but is bothered that Aoki likes a boy. Aoki cannot hide his feelings, so his Blue Boy becomes a vegan for a day to squash that beef.

Aoki's color comes back and Hashimoto reminds him that in order to date Ida, who is doing everything right, he has to like actually go on dates with Ida.

And just like before, Ida says "bet" and asks Aoki out on a date.

The date is great despite Aoki picking a movie where the dog dies in the end and both boys are solid in their colors.

Well, until Aoki freaks out again believing that Ida doesn't feel as deeply as he does (which it would be kind of hard to tell since Ida's sweater turns from the softest blue into white). However, with Hashimoto's encouragement, Aoki decides to properly confess to Ida about just how deep his feelings are (as if it isn't obvious).

But Ida tells Aoki that Ida already admitted to his teammates that they were dating after they questioned seeing the two out together on their date. Aoki, worried that Ida will be bullied for dating him, breaks up with Ida and falls deep into the blue.

Ida's teammates explain to Ida how Aoki came to them claiming that they were never dating and begging for the team to be kind to Ida. Ida realizing what Aoki was doing runs after him (Japan and that damn running!), and we get one of the most fucking satisfying color exchanges from any show ever.

DO YOU SEE THAT?! DO YOU SEE IT?! Aoki, void of color, walking aimlessly, immediately is surrounded by Ida's color the second Ida hugs him, then the camera pans out to show how BOTH of their colors are present.

*I'M SCREAMING!*

Ida talks to Aoki in Aoki's color letting Aoki know that he feels just as deeply for him as Aoki feels for him.

When Aoki finally turns around, both boys are equal in their colors and feelings.

Aoki believes Ida, and they sit down to watch the lights, covered in their love and colors.

And the show ends where it began, with an eraser.

This colors post was brought to you by this random piece of text

[pearlsinmyhair]

₊ ⊹ the price of the name.

synopsis: reader has had a hard life, and now she’s an orphan. but someone just as lonely comes into her life to take her under his wing.

warnings: some calm before the storm. miguel won’t compromise his morals. diet angst. cursing.

platonic!miguel x daughter-like!reader. no seriously, reader is eighteen and young. this is found family, not romantic. training begins, and with miguel it is anything but easy. but sometimes he softens.

part i

word count: 2k

part ii: star girl

　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 

“there are a lot of things you’re going to have to keep up with.” miguel said to you as you both walked through the halls of the spider society. you didn’t miss the glances and stares as you passed, and it made you shift closer to him.

he glanced down at you before glaring at a spider who stared a bit too hard, and they scrambled away.

“excuse their attention, i don’t usually take on apprentices.” he said simply as he continued walking. you had to practically run to keep up with his long legs.

“rule number one, keep up. i don’t need a kid dragging me down on missions or runs around the base. you’re eighteen, you can handle that.” he said without looking at you. you had to fight the urge to scoff at that. did he even realize how fast he was walking?

“rule number two, you have to protect your universe just as much as others. you are the only spider woman of universe 348, so you need to be vigilant.”

he glanced back at you again before saying.

“rule number three, you have to keep your grades up.”

you paused at that, your step faltering. “excuse me?”

“you heard me. you need to stay sharp, and not just in your training.” he hovered his hand over the key reader to the training area, and the doors opened with a soft hiss.

she had figured that he was insanely smart in some subject, as all spider people were, but she hadn’t figured it out quite yet. she’d only known him for a week.

“okay, fine. i’ll keep my grades up. anything else?” she asked as she looked around at the various equipment around the gym, all high tech and sparkly.

“yep. rule number four, when i say jump, you say…” he looked at you pointedly.

“how…high?”

“good job, you understand one of the most universal phrases. now run a lap.” he said, putting his hands on his hips and nodding to the track.

you stood still, not quite used to miguel’s pentient for sarcasm. he snapped his fingers in front of your face.

“c’mon kid, out of the clouds. jump.”

you rolled your shoulders, letting out a sigh as you began to jog.

this was going to be so much fun.

₊ ⊹

as weeks passed, you were beginning to realize just how much of an oddity yours and miguel’s partnership was.

the spider society had begun to call you ‘star girl’. the name laced both awe and envy.

it was loosely based on your suit, you were sure. it was blue with a few little stars trailing down it to add ambiance. but it was also linked to rarity.

the looks did not fade as time passed. and some looks of curiosity hardened into ones of jealously.

miguel was the unofficial leader of the spider society, and he was a hard man to please. many spiders gunned for your position, wanting even just a nod from him. but they got nothing. most of them were lucky if they ever got a single word out of him at all.

you would argue that their idea of miguel was tainted by rose colored glasses.

getting morsels of praise from him was great, partially because you knew he meant it when he said it. but every thing else?

“you need to be quicker. one day you might need that second to sling a web to safety or save a civilian. you can never afford to be slow, y/n.”

“again. your right hook is still too weak. you can’t always rely on webs.”

“kick your leg higher.”

“your webbing aim is still lacking, kid.”

“again.”

“again.”

“again.”

you had never been worked so hard.

it all piled into one training session of hand to hand combat.

there was always one rule when they were on the mat: no hitting faces.

no kicks. no punches. no slaps. no webs.

so instead, miguel would catch your blows with his hands, allowing you to throw punch after punch into his palms, correcting your positioning and your power everytime.

“it’s still really weak, kid. again.” he said, taking a step back, widening his stance once more in preparation for your punch.

but you didn’t move. you had been getting worse and worse as the lesson went, completly lost and confused as miguel kept dismissing each of your attempts.

“i don’t know how.” you murmured.

“quit pouting and try again. if you give up this quickly in an actual fight, you’ll fail. do. it. again.” he demanded, unaware of how tears pricked your eyes in frustration.

“i said i don’t know how!” you yelled, voice cracking pathetically halfway through.

miguel actually took a step back at your outburst, eyes widening slightly. for a moment, you expected him to bite back, or send you home. but when he didn’t reply, you kept going.

“i don’t know how, miguel. you tell me again, but i don’t know how to correct it. i need you to show me, not just tell me.” you said softly, suddenly embarrassed and a little frightened at his silence.

he swallowed, and his expression softened.

“go…go get a drink of water, then i’ll show you.” he said, blinking as he glanced away from you.

you had to fight off the urge to raise your own brows, instead using this rare moment of mercy to chug down water from one of the bottles on the side.

when you stepped back on the mat, miguel stood beside you, showing you exactly how to hold your fist, then how to move your arm.

when he stood in front of you again, holding his hand up in preparation, you threw your fist with as much force as you could muster.

the resounding slap made you cringe, and you opened one eye to check miguel’s expression.

the asshole looked bored.

“still didn’t hurt.” he deadpanned, and you responded by shoving him. he took a step back, a move that would not be possible unless he allowed it.

“you didn’t let me finish. it didn’t hurt, but it was better.” he said, pushing your forehead with his pointer finger.

you smiled, happy that at least you were improving.

and to your surprise, miguel gave you a small smile of his own.

₊ ⊹

after that practice, miguel’s whole training model changed.

now four months later, he met you at the entrance to his office, fiddling with his watch until a glowing portal opened up. when you raised a brow at him, he simply stepped into the portal, not bothering to tell you to follow.

when you exited the in-between of the universes, you were surprised to find that you were in a massive forest full of trees as tall as buildings.

without so much as an introduction, miguel shot a web and swung away from you.

“hey! what the hell, mig?” you shouted, struggling to swing beside him.

he glared at you. “never, ever, call me that. and we’re working on your swinging today.”

you glared right back, fumbling to keep your balance in the new setting. “no shit. but did you have to leave me?”

he smirked, flashing his canines at you when you almost fell. “expect the unexpected, y/n. i thought i taught you better.”

you scoffed, before once again nearly dropping.

miguel reached a hand out to you on instinct, but you recovered your balance.

“okay, let’s start easy. swing and fwip.” he said, murmuring the words as you mimicked his actions.

you smiled at him as you got the hang of your new surroundings. “did you get pointers from peter b?”

his face became grim. “do not dare mention that mans name. it summons him.”

you chuckled at that, before you pulled your web hard and swung your body into a backflip.

“see, i’m not entirely incompetent.” you told miguel, continuing to swing with him as he gave you small pointers.

“i’m aware. but i need you to be in top shape for when you go on a mission soon.”

you stopped shooting webs, pausing and dropping to the leaf-covered ground.

miguel circled and landed before you.

“are you telling me i’m ready?” you asked, looking up at him in disbelief.

“i’m telling you that i think you can handle slight anomalies. nothing big yet, just little disturbances.” he said, keeping his expression blank.

you bounced on your toes, chewing at your lip in excitement.

four months of training, and you’d be in the field.

you fought down the urge to whoop in celebration, or jump, or something. this was miguel after all. he didn’t appreciate sudden expressions of joy in his general vicinity.

so instead you settled for a sincere “thank you.”

he nodded sagely, fwipping back up to the trees.

and you followed, shooting webs and flipping, eager to sharpen your technique.

because of this, you missed the proud smile across miguel’s face.

₊ ⊹

you opened the door to your bedroom, eager to get your suit off and shower when you spotted the white box on your bed.

it was unassuming, plain except for a small message written in absurdly neat handwriting.

‘star girl’

you glanced around your room, even going so far as to ask lyla to scan it. calling on her was something you didn’t do too often. even though she was an a.i., it still felt like she was a person and that you were annoying her.

the projected woman granted your wishes, turning to you to tell you that all was well. she wore a secretive smile across her digital lips as she looked at you, then the box.

you glanced at the cardboard.

“you know something.” you said, tone suspicious as you tried to study lyla for answers.

she shrugged. “best way to know is to open it.” she replied before disappearing into a cloud of pixels.

you shuffled over to the box, tracing the edge of it before lifting one corner. you glanced inside and promptly slammed the top shut.

no fucking way.

there was absolutely no way.

you took a step back, turning your back to the box.

you couldn’t accept that.

but it was left on your bed. with your nickname on it.

you sucked your teeth as you turned back and fully opened the box.

inside it sat a beautiful midnight-blue spider suit with flecks of white stars all along it. you lifted the body of the suit up by the armpits, studying the way that the webs along it became geometric like constellations.

the white lines around the sides and waist glittered and flickered.

nanotechnology.

only one person had the materials to do this. and only one would have the courage to give it to you.

miguel.

you clutched the suit to your chest, fighting the raw emotion that caught in your throat.

you told him how much you loved the stars, explaining each and every constellation you had included on your suit.

you flipped the fabric in your hands to check.

cassiopeia on the ribs. canis major on the base of your foot. orion tangled in the spider symbol on the chest.

he would never give it to you in person. no, that would be far too informal, far to unprofessional.

so you sat in your room, biting your lip to fight back tears as you stood in your empty house, holding the glittering gift to your body like a vice.

you wondered how many nights he had spent making this. he had told you how hard his suit was to make, how tedious the process was. and he had done it all again.

for you.

fuck being unprofessional. you wished that he had given it to you in person anyway.

“lyla?”

“yes, y/n? are you alright, hun?”

“can you tell miguel-” you swallowed as a tear trailed down your cheek. “can you tell miguel thank you? like, really thank you?”

“…of course, hun. get some rest.”

you sank to your knees in the quiet of your dead house and sobbed, wishing for all the world that someone was here.

masterlists | part iii

yeah it seems pretty wholesome rn, huh?

would be a shame if someone…changed that.

tag list:

@ladyfairenvale

[gliphyartfan]

Hiiii, I’m back.

FINALLY! You guys have no idea how frustrating this guy was!

But I did it! May the next post happen much soon! Sohelpmegod

@yanderelinkeduniverse @ice-cream-writes-stuff @linked-heroes @screaming-until-god-hears-me @imprisioned-in-the-hole @crestfallenmermaidan @eternadreeblissa @lovanmari

Well no more talk! Only story! Enjoy!

———

——

—

-

"Was dad upset with you today?"

"..."

Colin…didn't really expect an answer, he already knew.

Had seen the frustrated look on his father's face.

And Link, he had simply stood there silently.

When he wasn't found in the village, Colin always found him by the Ordon spring.

Sometimes with Epona, mostly alone. Link just stared into the crystal clear waters, never once looking away.

Colin observes Link's quiet and solemn routine by the entrance of the spring. As he watches, Colin notices something unusual - Link has a jug that belongs to his father, one that Colin had been warned against sipping from. Colin continues to watch Link from a distance, observing the way he silently drinks from the jug and stares into the clear waters.

Just another oddity in the growing list connected to the rancher.

For many days, Link had been behaving utterly odd.

Looking at everyone strangely, almost panicked, as if he no longer understood how to interact with any of them.

Everyone had been whispering about it, yet no one could figure out what caused him to suddenly change so much out of the blue.

Yet despite his strangeness, he still helped Colin's mother Uli, still patrolled alongside Colin's father Rusl. Still dealt with the goats and cared for Epona.

But it was almost…like he was simply going through the actions.

His body was moving but his eyes were empty. Even when he gave everyone a smile, it was crooked, like he didn't even have the energy to smile properly.  

 Colin watches as Link takes another swig from the jug, his eyes never leaving the reflective surface of the water. The typically cheerful rancher seems distant, lost in thought. Colin has never seen Link like this before, and it honestly makes him uneasy.

Despite his anxiety, Colin decides to approach Link, wondering what could be going on in the older boy's mind.

 The sound of the water splashing against the shore and the distant bleating of the goats fills the air. Link doesn't seem to notice Colin's presence, instead continuing to gaze absently into the water. Colin approaches him from the side and looks at the jug of mead in Link's hands.

"He and mom were talking about you." He said quietly, sitting next to him, "I think he knows you've been taking his jug. They are worried." 

 Link turns to look at Colin, his eyes still clouded and distant. "I see," he says, his voice quiet and soft. He takes a long drink from the jug. He sets it down beside him, his gaze returning to the water.

Colin watches as Link takes a deep breath, as if trying to gather his thoughts.

 Colin, curious and worried about Link's distant behavior, gently asks, "Is there…something wrong, Link? You’ve been… different."

 Link stays silent for what feels like an eternity to Colin, his gaze fixed on the water. Just as Colin is about to give up on getting an answer, "I'm just...tired, Colin." Link finally speaks up, his voice barely above a whisper, "Tired of...so much, tired of…losing…so much."

 Link's words hang heavily in the air, the weight of his emotions palpable. Colin, still young and inexperienced, didn’t and couldn’t fully understand the depth of what Link is feeling. He looks up at Link, trying to process the words. "But you always win in the end, don't you?"

"This...isn't something I can win.." 

 Link's reply cuts through the air like a knife, his voice laced with a sadness that only those who have experienced great loss can truly understand. Colin looks up at Link, searching for some hint of the Link he has always known, the one who is brave, strong, and seeming to never falter when trouble was about.

 Colin watched the person he saw as an older brother stare into the waters of the spring. 

He looked so…lost…but it wasn't like he was searching for anything…

It was almost as if he had long given up when just some time ago he had been fine. 

"Link…did you…lose something important?” Colin didn't really know why he said that. But it made sense, in a way. 

He lost something, Colin didn't know what but it must have been so important that it made him like this. 

Made him behave so strangely. 

 Link continues to stare into the water, his mind lost in thought. He seems far away, consumed by his own emotions. Colin's question hangs in the air, unanswered. Link's shoulders sag, as if the weight of the world is resting on them.

Finally, he speaks, his voice quiet and defeated.

"I don't know..." 

 Link's response only deepens the mystery surrounding his current state of mind. The warmth of the setting sun does little to dispel the chill that Colin now feels in the air.

 "I don't…know if I lost anything…anyone…" Link continues unprompted, "I…think I did…I think I lost some…one..so..so precious…" 

  Colin's heart tightens as he hears the pain in Link's voice. He gazes at his older brother, trying to find the right words to say. He opens his mouth, then closes it again, at a loss.

 "But I don't know if I lost anyone…and that scares me…" Link took another drink from the jug, "I think..I'd be happier if I had lost someone.." 

"Why?" Colin couldn't help but ask. 

"…Because it means they had to have existed for me to lose…" 

 Link's words hang heavy in the air, as Colin looks at him with a mixture of confusion and concern. The kind Hyrulean boy that Colin had always known seemed to have been replaced by a hollow, lost shell of his former self.

 Colin takes a deep breath, searching for the right words to say. He wants to offer Link some encouragement, some glimmer of hope to hold onto. But as he opens his mouth, the gnawing silence seems to swallow his words before they can even leave his lips.

Because no matter how much he wanted to help, Colin was just a kid. A kid that didn't really understand what Link was talking about. 

It all confused Colin just as much as it worried him. 

 Colin sits next to Link in silence, his heart heavy with concern. He tries to offer an apology, hoping it might bring some comfort to his brother. "I'm sorry I can't help you, Link," Colin says softly, his voice laced with sadness.

 Link doesn’t look away from the waters. "It's alright, Colin," he says, his voice quiet and devoid of emotion. "I don't think anyone can help me with this." He takes another drink from the jug.

That just made Colin feel worse. 

Eventually Colin glances up at the sky and notices that it has started to darken. Reluctantly, he accepts that it's time for him to return home.

He takes one last look at Link, who still sits at the edge of the spring, lost in his thoughts, like the weight of the world was seemingly on his shoulders.

Colin sighed heavily, feeling a knot tighten in his stomach as he turned and began to make his way back to the village.

And Link...

...simply took another swing from the jug, the ache in his chest gnawing within him that he knew wouldn't be filled. 

He had lost everything that had become so dear to him... 

He didn’t know if he ever had it to begin with…

And all he wanted to do was simply forget, if it meant an end to the horrible pain.

——

——

It was familiar enough.

The Bublins charging into the spring. 

The force that sent him collapsing into the spring waters beneath him.

Uli’s tears and Rusl’s grave face.

The forceful tug into the Twilight.

The agony of his wolf form wrapping around him…

The cell and cuff that bound him in place…

That laughter…that mischievous grin…

At one time, he had longed to hear and see this all again. Longed for the mischievous smile and arrogant words spoken at him. so much so that it was as if he needed it like air. 

But…

…

…Funny how what he once wanted so badly was now the very last thing he ever wanted to see. 

He didn’t know how to feel about it…

—-

—-

Link gasps, collapsing to his knees, his sword stabbing into the ground in order to keep him upright. 

“Why do you continue to fail?”

Link shakes his head, grimacing. 

“I…I don’t…mean to…I-“ 

“You must confront that which you seek to deny, else it damns you to further loss…now..” The point of a blade was aimed at the hero. 

“Again.” 

“…Yes sir…” 

—-

—-

“You have a renewed burden." 

He chose not to reply to the fortune teller. 

At the urging of Midna, who's curiosity over talk of someone who could see into the future had garnered her interest, he had gone to visit Madame Fanadi. 

Personally he'd have simply gone to the next location needing his attention. 

He didn't want to be here, he already knew what he needed to do. 

"You are lost, blindingly wandering through a world of memories long since past." She continued, "Eyes open, but unseeing as you stumble along your unpaved path." 

 Madame Fanadi's words hang heavy in the air, her piercing gaze never leaving the Hero of Twilight. 

"Bound by chains forged from your own guilt and regret." She says, her voice taking on a somber tone.

Link's eyes are focusing on a point beyond Madame Fanadi. He can feel Midna's gaze on him from within his shadow, but he doesn't acknowledge it. 

"Your burden wishes to trap you," she continues, "It would consume you whole, if you let it."

"…And why shouldn't I let it?" The words left his lips before he registered that he even said it. 

 Madame Fanadi's gaze does not falter, as if she had expected this reaction. "There is hope, even in your darkest memories," she says gently. "You have a chance to break free from your burden and find redemption."

He scoffs. "Redemption?"

He doesn't deserve it. None of them did. 

Damned to relive these days. Damned to question whether he was truly reliving them or simply following a pattern that was laid before him. Worse still to realize that it was possibly all a figment of his mind. 

(If they all truly exist... he hopes they are suffering like he was…)

If his Goddess truly existed or not... 

He hoped she never forgave them. 

None of them were worthy of it.

Twilight's hands curl into fists in his lap, knuckles turning white.

He wasn’t worthy of it.

 "You wish to be consumed by the pain, seeing no point in continuing on," she says. "It's eating away at you, consuming you from the inside. Most curious for a young man like yourself to hold such regret."

Twilight's eyes, still fixed on a point beyond the fortune teller, narrow.

Madame Fanadi continues to watch him, calm, patient. As if for her, the passing of time meant nothing. "You are burdened by memories, young hero," she says softly. "Memories that haunt you, memories that bring you pain. Or rather, it is someone within those memories." 

Twilight tensed, his fists squeezing tighter. 

"You want to look away, to run from these thoughts, but you know that you can't escape them." 

"That's enough..." He tells her, his voice low. 

"Tell me young man, do you believe if you ignore these regrets, that somehow you'll be free of the consequences you suffer?" 

"I won’t hear anymore..." 

"Those who fought beside you, the trust you hold for them in your heart, it is strong and bright despite the darkness swirling within." Madame Fanadi continued, "If they stood before you, would they not be suffering such agony as well?" 

She tapped her chin, an almost sorrowful smile on her face. 

"After all, are you not all guilty of the same regret?"

"Stop it!" Twilight was looking directly into the woman's eyes, his own shining with anger and warning. 

 Madame Fanadi does not flinch under the provoked man's gaze, but rather, she holds it, her smile never wavering. "You are trying to hide away from the truth you created, young hero," she says. "But you can only hide so long before that truth finds you."

"I'm leaving." He stands, uncaring that his seat is knocked over. 

 Madame Fanadi's smile doesn't falter as he stood up, her eyes following him. "Remember, young hero, the truth has a way of finding us all." She says this softly, almost like a whisper. The room feels suddenly colder, it would excuse the trembling of his shoulders, and the candles flicker as if in response to her words.

He storms towards the exit, his footsteps echoing in the stillness of the room.

—

—-

He coughs, a dribble of spit escaping the corner of his mouth as he clutches his stomach. 

“Had this been a true battle, you would have been cut down several strikes ago.” 

“I-I’m so-“ a kick to his side sends him sprawling onto the ground once more.

“Don’t apologize. Improve.” Once more, the blade is pointed at him. 

“Again.” 

Link clenches his teeth, trembling with exertion as he reaches for his sword. 

--

--

"What the hell was that Link?" 

As he storms out of Fanadi's Palace, he hears Midna's voice calling out to him. She sounds concerned and a little frustrated, and Twilight knows that she wants him to explain what just happened.

He stays silent and continues to walk away from the building. 

 Midna, not used to being ignored, pesters him as he makes his way through and out the city. 

Link stops in his tracks when they are a good distance away, looking down at Midna, who had appeared in front of him, with a mixture of annoyance and detachment.

"I didn't like what she was saying," he says, his gaze flickering away from Midna's. 

Midna crosses her arms, her expression skeptical.

 "Are you still worried over those kids?" She asks, sighing as if she figured out his problem already. 

"They are safe in that village, that shaman seems to have a good head on his shoulders." She said. 

 Link's eyes narrow at Midna, shaking his head. 

He wasn't going to bother correcting her assumptions.

What he suffers through happened long after she was gone. 

...in his memories anyway.

"..I won't let things get in the way of what we're doing." He says quietly, looking away from her. 

Midna frowned, eyeing him for a moment before returning to his shadow without another word. 

Though he was not stupid to think that was the end of this conversation. 

 The wind rustles through the trees, carrying the scent of blooming flowers and the sound of chirping birds. The sky is a clear blue, with only a few wispy clouds visible. It's a peaceful scene, but Link's mind is anything but. 

 He closed his eyes, hoping the ambiance of the area would pull him into its peaceful embrace. 

It was a fruitless effort of course, but it was better than suffering the ache in his chest. 

—-

—-

“Again.” 

“I’m TRYING!” He growls, grunting as he tiredly raises his blade to block the strike aimed toward him.

“Success must come after attempting, yet you seem to linger at the ‘attempting’ stage of learning.” A twist of a wrist and the rancher’s sword is knocked from his hand and clatters to the ground several feet away from him. 

“Again.” 

Link can only bite back the snarl that tried to escape him, his hands in tight fists as he steps towards his fallen blade.

 --

 --

Link kept a smile on his face when he arrived in Kakariko Village, keeping the troubles that plagued him from seeping through as Talo greeted him excitedly.

Beth was still with Colin and Malo had his store. 

Humoring Talo's rambling as he walked though the village, he soon waved him off when he approached the inn.

Entering the room,  Link can see that Colin is resting peacefully. Beth is sitting in a chair next to him, her head resting on the armrest as she dozes off. 

The warmth and quietness of the room wrap around the Hero. Beth doesn't stir from her sleep, and Colin looks peaceful, his chest rising and falling rhythmically. The silence almost tricks him into relaxing into it's embrace, but his thoughts keep invading, making it difficult to truly relax. He takes a seat next to Beth, watching Colin closely.

Truthfully he had no interest in being here. 

But he had no interest in speaking to Midna either. 

It was either here or back in town, and the rancher wanted to be as far away from that fortune teller as possible. 

Link carefully lays a spare blanket over Beth, tucking it around her shoulders to keep her warm. He then turns his attention back to Colin, not really looking at him, merely giving his eyes a point to focus on. 

The silence in the inn is only broken by the soft snoring of Beth and the rhythmic breathing of Colin. Link's constant attempts to find solace in the peaceful atmosphere are in vain, as his thoughts keep drifting back to Midna and the unspoken tension between them. 

He can feel her eyes on him, even from within his shadow, and he knows she's waiting for him to address the elephant in the room.

This version of her may not have known him as well as previously, but she had a keen eye when she so chose.  

But he refused to speak to her about it. 

He didn't even want to think about any of it. 

 As Link sits in the quiet inn, it's as if he's viewing the world through a foggy glass, unable to truly connect with it.

He...didn't want to be here. 

He takes a slow deep breath, in through his nose and out through his mouth. 

He doesn't want to do any of this again. (Didn’t want to contemplate if he was doing it all over again.)

All he wants is to wake up back at camp, to hear Wild (his mentee, his cub) humming as he finishes breakfast. To hear the others (pack, trusted) slowly awaken at the smell of fresh food. 

To hear Her voice, rough with sleep, greet them good morning, 

To be able to reach out and cup her cheek, to feel the joy as She sleepily nuzzles against it, trusting that he would never harm her. Seeing Her almost fall back to sleep before he softly calls Her name to keep her awake. 

 Link's thoughts are consumed by longing for a past that seemed to never truly have happened, for the companionship he once considered so important. He closes his eyes, trying to imagine himself back at camp with his friends.  He can almost hear everyone's chatter as they prepare for the day, the smell of Wild's cooking.

He can almost feel the warmth of the morning sun on his face, hear the sound of the birds chirping in the trees. He remembers the way Her sleepy laughter would fill the air as she conversed with the others. He remembers the feeling of camaraderie, of belonging to something bigger than himself.

He remembers his pack and he misses them all so very much. 

 His sword brothers...he longed to stand before them once again. 

To be able to walk up to them...reach out his arms...

( And strangle the utter life out of each one of them for daring to damn him to this horrible curs- ) 

He tenses when he hears Beth mumble something in her sleep, relaxing when she didn't saying anything else. 

He focused on some deep slow breath. He could hear his blood rushing in his ears. 

He wants to lash out in some way, but he knows he can't let himself get carried away by his anger. He takes a few more deep breaths, trying to clear his mind. 

As he opens his eyes, he notices Beth stirring in her sleep again. He watches her for a moment, listening to her soft breathing. He can't help but feel a twinge of envy towards her.

Link's gaze remains fixed on Beth, studying her peaceful expression as she sleeps. He can't help but think about how carefree and untroubled she looks, free from the burdens and responsibilities that weigh on his own shoulders. The envy he feels turns into a pang of sadness, and his heart feels heavy in his chest.

'Was it so wrong to want to stand by her side?' He mouthed silently to himself. 

He doesn't want what he remembers to be a dream. He didn't want to think that the love he gained for such an incredible person to have been all for nothing. 

He just wants to go back to his pack, back to Her. 

(Even if his pack would damn him to suffer this cruelt-) 

He ran both his hands through hair, letting one drop while the other kept a grip on his head. 

He didn't want to do any of this! He didn't want to do this! Again or not! He simply wanted this journey far away from his present. To become a long done memory already.

Was he cursed to relive this path over and over? 

Would a chance at life beyond the hero title be a failed dream? 

He just wanted someone to tell him... 

'..Is there an ending to all this?' He whispered to himself, it felt like it echoed in the silence of the room. 

—

—

"...just kill me..." 

Link's voice is barely above a whisper, his shoulders slumped in defeat. The Shade's sword remains at his neck, the weight of it a reminder of his mortality. The ghostly swordsman studies Link.

"Please…I rather die believing in the illusion my mind showed me, than live long enough to find it was all a lie."

The Shade's gaze lingers on Link for a moment longer, then he slowly withdraws his sword, sheathing it with a soft hiss. "I will not grant you such a release," he says into the silence. 

"The strength of your heart…has disappointed me."

Link stays silent, not meeting the Shade's gaze yet feeling the weight of it.

He feels empty…

He feels defeated.

—

—

When Midna finally manages to confront him, it's as sudden and as ferocious as he always expected her to be.

Link could feel the air escape his lungs as the Twili's versatile orange hair slammed him against the dungeon floor. 

"You're not avoiding this any longer you goat-wrangling mutt!" She hissed, Twili magic crackling around her. "You better tell me what's been going on with you or I'll make you." 

Midna's eyes glow with a fierce determination as she pins Link against the floor. Her hair holding him in place. Link struggles to breathe, caught off guard by Midna's sudden attack. He can feel the heat of her anger and the intensity of her gaze.

"I've tried to give you space," Midna said, hands clenched.

"But you've been avoiding even talking to me, and I won't stand for it any longer. You will tell me what's been going on with you, or I will force it out of you."

The air is thick with tension as Link struggles to break free from Midna's grasp. 

"One hell of a time to corner me like this." He grunts, not bothering to struggle. He knew no amount of struggling to free him from her grasp. 

"I thought you wanted me to keep moving?" He asks, trying to buy some time to gather his thoughts. Midna's sudden aggression, had taken him by surprise, and he's still reeling from his own inner turmoil.

Midna's grip on Link tightens, and her eyes narrow. "I did," she says, her voice low and dangerous. "But you've been doing a rather good job keeping me from asking you anything, and I can't stand it any longer."

"Well maybe just keep out of my personal business and you'll spare yourself the frustration." He glares at her, but Midna's gaze doesn't waver. Instead, her eyes seem to bore into him, searching for the truth. Link feels a shiver run down his spine as he realizes that she won't let go. 

"What is wrong with you?" He growls at her, "I have done everything you wanted since you freed me from that cell. Is asking for some privacy in regards to my own life that difficult for you to accept?" 

"Not when it ends with you lashing out!" She snaps back, her grip on him tightening even more. Link winces as she presses down on him for a moment. 

"You nearly attacked that one drunk guy in castle town!" 

"He wouldn't leave me alone." Was all he said. 

"All he said was That he'd feel sorry for whatever girl decides to fall for a, oh what was it he said? 'Grumpy country bumpkin.'? Something about how that girl would just have her heart broken." 

"Wouldn't be the first time I've been called that." He answered, though the people who called him that were trusted friends. 

"Oh? So you decided to nearly yank his arm from his shoulder socket because he just wouldn't stop talking?" 

He didn't care if that stupid drunk rambled on like he had. 

But to say whoever gave their heart to him would suffer heartbreak... 

(Was he that terrible of choice for a life partner? A husband? A mate? Is that why he hurt-) 

"Nothing he said was worth focusing on." 

"And those knights! You snarled at them when they made a stupid joke! SNARLED!" She exclaimed, throwing her hands up when she saw his stubborn expression. "You looked like the very wolf you can change into. They ran without a second go waste!”

"The knights of Castle town are worthless and cowardly." He growled, a hand coming up to grab part of her hair. "They don’t dare approach me if I was in my beast form, it genuinely makes me wonder how they’d handle an actual war?"

Midna's eyes narrowed even further. "You can't go around attacking people. You're supposed to be a hero aren't you? Not some brute."

"Oh?" He asks, a faux look of curiosity on his face. "Would me being a brute go against your goals?" 

"Now you're going after me?" She scoffs, crossing her arms and legs as she stares down at him. 

"You were always strange since we met, but ever since you spoke to that fortune teller, you've been completely out of line."

"Simply because you're making assumptions about my situation-"

"Because you never talk to me!" 

"Well maybe it's because I don't WANT to talk to you! Have you ever thought of THAT?" He spat at her, struggling for the first time since being pinned to the floor. 

"You-" 

"I've done EVERYTHING you wanted me to do! EVERYTHING. I have not made a SINGLE complaint since you saved me from the cell! Not one! I think I have been a rather good 'servant' don't you think?"

He clenched his hands into tight fists.

"But it seems no matter what I do. I'm NEVER good enough for you. For ANYONE." He shakes his head, his face twisting in pain. 

"Was what I've done so bad that I have to be cursed like this? To be forced to live through it all over again? To question what’s true or fabricated in my mind?!?”

"Link-" 

"I didn't mean to!" He shouts, his voice cracking. 

"I-I...I just.." Wanted to be by Her side…

That's all he wanted. He wanted to be with Her. Hold Her. Kiss Her. 

To be granted the honor of being called Her partner, perhaps even Her everything.

Wanted to never let her out of his sight again. To take her somewhere far away and start a life with just the two of them. 

"What do I have to do to fix this?" He whispers, his head bowed. 

'Link, focus-"

"WHO DO I HAVE TO KILL IN ORDER TO WAKE UO FROM THIS DAMNED NIGHTMARE!!" He roars at her. Midna actually rears back at the unhinged look overtaking his face.

“Hey! Watch it!”

Link's words hang heavy in the air, and Midna watches as he struggles against her grip, his eyes blazing with...something..

"Let go of me," He growls, his voice barely above a whisper. "I mean it Midna. Let. Go."

Midna stays silent, hesitation flickering in her eye. 

Something was wrong. This was not how she expected this to go.

She watches as he struggles against her grip, his eyes blazing with an intensity that makes her want to keep him pinned down until whatever was happening was over.

"Link, focus," Midna tries to interject, but he talks over her.

"Let go of me..." 

"Link, I-" she starts, but he cuts her off. 

"I said let go," he repeats. 

"Damnit, you’re not ok!" She says, refusing to let him go. 

She didn't know WHAT he would do if she did. 

"Let go of me Midna..." 

"What'll happen if I do?" 

"Let me GO.." He brings his head up and lets the back of it hit the floor beneath him. 

Midna watches as Link's head hits the floor, wincing at the sound of impact. 

“Heheh…” He begins to laugh, it was not pleasant to hear, “Do I have to wake myself up? Is that how I'll return? Am I too stubborn to wake up?” 

That look in his eyes. He's not in his right mind. She tightens her hold on him.

"Link. You're not thinking straight. You need to calm down." She says firmly, trying to reason with him. 

He brings his head up, only to hit it against the floor again, harder.

“I need to wake up…they’re waiting for me…” 

The sound of Link's head hitting the floor echoes through the wide space, and Midna can't help but feel a sense of alarm. She tightens her grip on him, trying to keep him still and prevent him from hurting himself any further.

"Link, stop it!" She commands, her voice firm and authoritative.

"I need to wake up..." His voice sounds fragile, trembling as he brings his head up as best as he could and to slam it back down against the floor. “She’s unprotected…we have to protect Her…” 

(He couldn’t lose her again. He simply couldn’t.)

Midna watches in horror as Link continues to bang his head against the floor, each impact causing the sound of his head hitting the hard surface to almost echo in the open space. The scent of blood making it's appearance. 

"I need to wake up.." he repeats, desperate, as if he were on the verge of tears.

His mind overwhelmed by everything he'd be desperately pushing away since he awoke back in Ordon. 

He couldn't take it anymore. He wanted to return to his pack. He wanted to return to (y/n). 

He wanted this all to be a horrible dream. 

Midna, completely out of her depth, lifts Link away from the floor, the back of his head leaving a splatter of blood on the rough surface.

She slams him back down, causing the air to escape his lungs.

"I'm sorry Link," she says, not giving him a chance to register what's happening as she releases him and turns her hair into a fist. "But you need to calm down!" 

Link has just a moment to register what she said as her fist collides with the side of his face. 

…

….

Midna breathes a sigh of relief as Link's body goes slack, her makeshift fist leaving a rather large red mark on his cheek.

..What the hell…

 She knows that she had to do something to stop him from hurting himself, but that didn't help the twinge of guilt after hitting him. She floats down close to him, brushing his bangs out of his eyes after a few moments, checking to make sure that he's still breathing.

The dungeon is dimly lit, with faint light from outside barely illuminating the cold, stone walls. The air is thick with dust and the smell of dampness, and the noticeable sound was the distant drip of water. Link's unconscious form lies sprawled on the cold, wet, hard ground, his breathing slow and steady. Midna hovers over him, her expression a mix of concern and guilt.

"..What made you go crazy like this?" She mutters, unsure what to do. 

What a situation she landed herself in. 

…

Stuck in a damp dungeon with an unconscious frenzied hero. 

...

(Maybe she should have chosen a better spot to talk to him.) 

…

…

“This sucks..” 

—

—

"Again.” 

"What do you WANT?" Link shouts at him, his chest heaving from the exertion.

A single red glowing eye looks at him. "Your resolve has weakened to an absurd degree," he says. "You limit yourself to the boundaries that others have placed on you."

He stares up at him, panting and covered in sweat. " I have done no such thing." He protested. "I am doing everything I can."

The Shade shakes his head. "You are holding yourself back."

"No I'm not!" 

"Still such a child. Denying a truth that is always dogging your footsteps." 

"You aren't even HERE!" He screams, having finally reached his limit with the shade.

The shade said nothing. 

"This is all some fucked up dream! The real you doesn’t even recognize me!! You think I wouldn’t figure this out? That I wouldn’t be able to see through this whole thing?!? What's the point, what’s the fucking purpose of my mind placing the illusion of you before me?!? To mock me?? To constantly remind me of something that possibly didn’t happen?" 

"I may be an illusion...but your guilt isn't." 

"This is ridiculous," He sits up, his teeth bared at the spirit. "I’ve denied nothing!" 

"You are troubled. It clouds your heart." 

"Sorry to disappoint you, but you aren't the first to point that out." 

The Hero's Shade stood a few feet from him, sword held away as he watched Link. 

The Shade's gaze is intense, scrutinizing Link as he rises to a sitting position. The air around him feels heavy, almost suffocating, as if the weight of his troubles is a physical entity. Link can't help but feel a little vulnerable under the Shade's gaze, the numbness that has become all too familiar to him serving as a constant reminder of his burden.

"I won't let it get in the way of learning what you teach me." The rancher replies in a monotone manner. 

“Each time you appear before me, your resolve weakens further." The Shade says, his voice deeper, rougher than the rancher remembered. 

Then again, he spent a considerable amount of time with his more...'livelier’ self...so the young hero supposed things would have changed during the decades after. 

(Though...the Shade should have recognized him...shouldn't he? Yet he didn’t… Did that mean that everything truly was-) 

Link shook away those thoughts.

"Though that does not distract me from your current failure to focus." He steps closer to Link, slowly walking around him. 

"You’re weaker than you should be, yet still so disappointing. I’m surprised you have not been struck down by a Bublin yet due to your carelessness." Link grit his teeth, that was not a question. 

"I am...as strong as you need me to be.." 

"As I need you to be? So…you would allow another to determine your overall strength? You would cease to grow simply because another held your leash and brought you to heel?" 

Link glared up at him, but of course, the Shade was entirely unfazed.

The Hero's Shade continues to circle around Link, his intense gaze never leaving the young hero. The weight of his gaze is almost unbearable, and Link can feel himself reflexively shrinking under the pressure.

When he stands in front of Link once again, he points his sword at him. 

"Raise your sword." Was all he said to him.

The Shade's sword gleams in the light of this realm. Link tightens his grip on his own weapon, meeting his gaze. He lifts his sword as he stands, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on him. 

The Shade begins to circle him once more, this time Link matching his movements. 

"Now, attack." He commands. The young hero takes a deep breath and lunges forward, sword swinging through the air.

The Hero's Shade watches intently as Link attacks, it takes not even a few moves before Link is tossed to the ground.

 "Again," he says, his voice stern. Link obliges, rising up and lunging and swinging his sword once more. 

This time, the Shade raises his own weapon to block, the clash of metal on metal echoing in the air. "Again," he repeats as Link is once more knocked down.

Once more he rises, only to be defeated again. The Shade remains unmoved.

Link's movements become more sloppy with each loss.  Frustration taking over more and more, but the Shade remains relentless, silently commanding him to raise his sword each time. 

Link loathes the sound of his sword constantly clattering to the ground. An indication of his constant failure. 

An indication that he was weak. 

…weak…

…

No…

Nononono..

He couldn't afford to be weak. 

No. Never. 

Not when being weak means losing what matters. 

Not when it means he could lose- he couldn't lose everything else! 

He already lost his pack! Every one of them! He can't- 

He reacted before he really registered the noise, rearing his head back in surprise, dodging the sword swipe. 

"What are you doing?!?”

"You are rejecting the truth and it’s hindering you." The Shade says, his voice echoing ominously. "I wonder, how many will you abandon…as you run away?"

 "I have never abandoned anyone!" He exclaims as he dodges swipe after swipe. 

"Foolish enough to release your sword in front of an opponent. Foolish enough to deny the truths that dig themselves into your very being. Foolish enough to be led on by others like some obedient beast." 

 "What point is there to gain strength when I've lost everything already?!?"

The Hero's Shade does not pause his attacks, but does look at Link with a contemplative expression. "Strength is not just for protecting others," he says. "It is also for protecting yourself. So that you do not continue to lose what matters to you."

 "But I've already lost everything that I wanted to protect!" Link dives under a swing and rolls behind the Spirit, reaching out to grab his sword. 

But before he could get close, he stills, the cold touch of the Shade's sword pressed against his neck. 

"And it is your fault.” 

The declaration was firm, weighted, Link could feel the sharp chill of the blade against his skin. 

The Shade's voice is low and accusatory.

He should argued his point, said something to get his predecessor to stop. 

But the young hero just couldn't take it anymore. 

"It wasn't my fault!!" Link screams, his voice echoing through the training grounds. Tears well up in his eyes as he pushes the blade away with his hand, uncaring of the sharp pain it brought, his body trembling with emotion.

"I didn't mean for any of it to happen!" he repeats, his voice desperate, almost pleading. "I just wanted to keep her safe! I just wanted her to stay with us!" With me.

"You would lay the fault of your sins on your desire to protect? When you would endanger the one you sought to protect?" 

"None of us would ever hurt her." He hisses at spirit, "Not even death would be enough of a punishment suffered for such a crime." 

How many had he willingly killed for daring to threaten her safety? 

Those disgusting creatures that took the forms of man. Daring to gaze upon her beauty and attempt to stake a claim.

A claim. As if she were an item to be bought. 

Not even as he made them choke on their blood, as he wrapped his hands around their bruised necks, did the rage boiling through his veins calm. 

 "You believe that you have done what was necessary to protect her," he says, his voice softer now. "But have you considered the cost? " 

Link's eyes flash with anger and defiance. "Yes," he growls. "A thousand times, yes."

The lives he's taken, the pain he caused upon those unworthy fools- it was all worth it to keep her safe.

The Shade's gaze pierces through Link, as if trying to read his very soul. "You believe that the ends justify the means," he says, his voice filled with a strange tone of somber wisdom. "But have you considered that the means themselves may taint the end?"

Link's heart races, but he stands his ground. "I have done what I had to do," he insists. "I would do it again if it meant keeping her safe."

Keep her away from those who would harm. 

Keep her nice and safe. With them. With him. 

"Even if it meant being the cause of Her tears?" 

"...I.."

Link's mind reels as the Hero's Shade challenges him with his question. The thought of (y/n)'s tears, caused by his own hand, is almost too much to bear.

"I-I never…would never want to hurt her," he stammers, his voice filled with trembling in growing panic and despair.

The Hero's Shade studies Link intently, seeing the pain and fear in the young hero's eyes. "You say you would never wish to harm her," he says . "But sometimes, actions have consequences that cannot be foreseen.”

Link's heart races. 

"You, and those who stood beside you. You all are the reason she was lost." 

Link's shaking his head, The Shade's words cut deep, and Link struggles to maintain his composure. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart. "I don't believe that," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I won't believe that."

"Still you deny the truth.." The Hero's Shade continues, shaking his head, "You grew arrogant, drunk on the delusion that you knew what was best for her. Convinced your strength was enough to fight back the world. But in doing so, you overlooked the consequences of your actions. You caused her pain, and ultimately, you lost her."

Link's heart feels heavy, each word the Shade speaks weighing down on him.

The Hero's Shade's words hang heavy in the air, and Link can't help but feel the weight of their truth. He thinks back to the moments leading up to (y/n)'s disappearance, trying to pinpoint the exact moment where he may have gone wrong. 

His mind races as he replayed the memories, his heart aching with every image of (y/n)'s strained smiles. The exhaustion that settled around her. 

Had he truly been so blind..?

"No..." he whispers, "No..I didn't...I didn't mean to.."

"It is not my place to judge you, that duty goes to the one you harmed," he says, "I only aim to teach. To help you understand the weight of your actions. Perhaps that is the reason that your mind created my image before you.”

Link looks up, meeting the Shade's gaze. He wants to argue, to defend himself, but he can't bring himself to speak.

Link feels a lump form in his throat. He looks away, unable to meet the Shade's penetrating gaze any longer. The Shade's tone had been calm and measured, devoid of any emotion, yet his words are like a dagger to Link's heart.

 "The arrogance and narrow-mindedness of you and yours had blinded you all to the true needs and desires of (y/n). It was not your place to dictate her choices, but to support her regardless of what path she follows."

Link says nothing, tears falling down his cheeks.

“No matter how far you run, you could never escape the truth. Because you refuse to forget.” 

His tears fall to the ground, his eyes clenched shut. 

"...Cub.." He tensed, hearing the nickname only his mentor called him. 

Link slowly looked up, tears still falling. His breath caught in his throat as he looked into a familiar face. 

Once decayed and ghostly, his mentor now stood before him in all his familiar glory. His face immediately brings a wave of memories crashing down on him. Of brotherhood. 

Of trust. 

"...T..ime..?" The Hero of Time stared down at him, looking as alive as in his memories. 

"Rise and grow strong Cub." He said, an aura of calm surrounding him, holding out Twilight's sword. “Rebuild your shattered resolve.”

"Become a Sword worthy of serving our Goddess..." 

Twilight reaches out, taking his sword from his outstretched hand.

As he wraps his trembling hand around the hilt, as he did, he felt a surge of energy pulsing through him.

The last thing he saw before his vision became white, was his mentor watching him calmly.

--

--

.

.

.

The side of his face hurt as his senses returned to him. 

Opening his eyes, he immediately shuts them with a hiss from the brightness hitting them. 

"Hmph, finally awake are we?" 

 As he slowly opens his eyes again, shielding them from the light, he sees Midna, her impish face looking at him with a mix of masked concern, annoyance, and weariness.

"Took you long enough," she huffs, "Here I thought I was gonna have to finish my business all on my lonesome before you chose to wake up."

He finds himself lying on his back, the ground beneath him feeling hard and unfamiliar. His head throbs with a dull pain, and he instinctively reaches up to touch the side of his face, wincing at the tenderness. 

 As he touches his face, his fingers probe a tender area around his temple. It feels swollen and bruised. He sits up slowly, trying to ignore the spinning sensation that threatens to overwhelm him. Midna's face comes into focus as he blinks against the, to him, harsh light.

"What happened?" He ask once his head settled a bit. His voice hoarse.

Midna's impish features twist into a bitter smirk.

 "What happened?” Midna repeats his question, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Well, let's see. You lost conscious, curtesy of me thank you, after your little breakdown earlier." She pauses, letting her words sink in. "I had to drag your sorry butt all the way to this pretty spot." 

He look around, trying to get his bearings. 

 The torchlight flickers off the stone walls, creating an eerie atmosphere. As Link take in his surroundings, Midna's voice breaks the silence.

"Seriously, what was that back there?" Midna asks. "You scared the crap out of me, you know?"

Link turns to face Midna, his expression conflicted. "I'm sorry," he finally says, his voice still hoarse. "I…don't know what came over me." 

"I'll say, you went crazy!" 

 Midna crosses her arms, her smirk faltering slightly as she studies Link. "You really don't remember?" she asks, her tone softer but no less annoyed now. "You were ranting and raving about some girl and waking up... it was so sudden."

Link furrows his brow, trying to recall what happened before he lost consciousness, all he remembred was this sense of everything becoming...too much. 

 Link sighs, rubbing his forehead.

To think he'd breakdown like that. 

He really had been running from it all. 

 "You were mumbling something about 'her' not being real, and 'waking up'." She crossed her arms, "Do those words mean anything to you?"

He tenses, Midna could tell he was trying to come up with something to say. 

“Safe to say, they mean something to you.” She huffs.

 Link stays silent for a few moments, deep in thought. The dim light of the torches illuminates his face, highlighting the conflict and anxiety etched into his features. He then shakes his head, letting out a sigh. 

"...I made a mistake," he admits slowly, his voice still hoarse. "It...hurt someone very precious to me." 

"Oh?" Midna floated closer to him, "What'd you do so bad that it made you like THAT?" 

Link opened his mouth but closed it a moment after, looking away. 

 The room grows quiet once more, save for the crackling of the torches. Link's eyes lower to the ground, reflecting the guilt and regret he feels. Midna, sensing his discomfort, waits patiently for him to continue. After a few moments, Link finally speaks up, still looking away.

"I hurt her," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "We all did..." 

"..'We'?" 

He shakes his head, his mouth in a firm line. 

 Midna's eyes narrow, trying to make sense of Link's words. She cocks her head to the side, studying him carefully. "Alright, so you hurt someone you care about. But who's 'we'?"

Link's grip tightens around his phantom sword, his jaw setting. He doesn't look at Midna, instead focusing on a distant point on the floor. "It's not important right now."

 Link's response only serves to pique Midna's curiosity further. She can tell that he's holding something back, but she doesn't want to push him too hard and risk shutting him down entirely. 

Or worse, go crazy again. 

Instead, she decides to change tactics.

"Fine, keep your secrets," she says with a shrug. 

There was a moment of silence. 

“. . .So did you mean to do it?” 

“…H-Huh?” Midna tsk’d. 

“Did you. mean to. hurt your friend?” Link took a moment to register what she asked. 

“No…no I would never…” he whispered, the Twili could see his already pale skin turn a few shades whiter. 

“Well that response at least means you got part 1 down of mending things right.” She rolled her eyes at his look. 

“Let me tell you something, Link. You're not the only one who's made mistakes."

 Midna's words hang heavy in the air, breaking the tense silence that had settled over the room. Link continues to gaze at the floor, lost in thought. The torchlight flickers across his face, casting deep shadows that seem to reflect the turmoil in his heart.

"I know," he says softly, his voice filled with pain. "But this was different. For me. For us all. The results-She-we…we didn't..."

 Midna sighs,  she can tell that he's not ready to open up about it. After another few moments of silence, Midna breaks the tension again.

"Alright, I get it. You don't want to talk about it right now." She straightened up and put her hand on her hip as she floats closer to him. "But you clearly don't have the means or time to even try to fix whatever it is that's happening with you." 

He looked at her with tired eyes, and she frowned. 

"If it were me, who hurt someone I cared about..." she tapped her chin, "and I had no choice BUT to hold off on making amends...I'd at least take the time and accept that I did something wrong." 

Link sent her a questioning looking and she huffed at him.

"Well how many times have you heard someone apologize but never bothered to understand what they did wrong? Apologizing is great but it means squat if you didn't bother to figure out WHY you're in the dog house...pun intended." 

Midna's words seem to strike a chord with Link, who looks up at her with a slightly more alert expression. She can see the gears turning in his head as he considers her words. After a few moments, he nods slowly, remaining silent as he absorbs what she said. 

"Great, you finally realize a fact about yourself, “ she raises her hands up and shakes them in a Ta-da motion, “Congratulations, you’re a flawed creature.”

He blinks slowly at her, making her sigh again.

“So, if you're not gonna have a meltdown any time soon, let's get this place over with." She says, clapping her hands once and floating over to his sword and shield. 

He remained seated, eyes following her before shortly getting up. 

The rest of the dungeon was rather quiet compared to what he remembered, words only spoken when absolutely necessary. 

. . . He didn't know how to feel about it. 

—

—

The shade did not appear in his dreams anymore. 

A part of him felt relieved…to no longer be stared down by a visage of his mentor… 

Another part of him mourned the only other person who knew everything he hid. 

Even if that person was simply a construct that his mind created…

…(perhaps it was for the best…) 

—

—

He knew he should have at least announce his departure, instead of leaving a vague note on the entrance to his home. 

Link knew he would worry Colin and his family. Knew Rusl would ask around for him, only for frustration to build when no one would know where Link was. 

But he simply couldn’t take it anymore 

Everything was too much and too little. 

There was no journey to distract him anymore, no danger for him to defeat. 

No princess of Twilight to yank his attention away from his thoughts from the moment she spoke. 

What did it say about who he had become? That staring down at the corpse of Ganon, the very person who caused so much damage to the land, made Link feel nothing but disappointment. 

Midna was gone now. He hadn’t realized how much he had depended on her presence to keep him grounded. 

The land was safe once more. The people of Ordon were reunited once again. 

Returning to Ordon, returning to that small world that once had been so big to him. 

All he wanted to do was escape it. 

It had all become too much. All so very much. 

Everyone knew it. No one said anything but the rancher could tell. Could see their gazes, hated it no matter how well-meaning they were. 

Their voices, once so soothing, irked him to the point that he wanted to tear off his own ears just for total silence. 

If not his ears, then their very tongues. 

He probably would have been horrified by his thoughts, had he been who he once was. 

Even now it caused him pain. He didn’t want to look at them and feel anger. 

It pained him. (It scared him.)

It was only when he numbly contemplated harm towards the villagers that he knew he had to leave. 

He had to get out as quickly as he possibly could.  Least he gives in to those overwhelming thoughts. 

(And a part of him feared their reaction, should he breakdown in front of them just as he had done in front of Midna.) 

So he left. Quietly during the early hours, long before the sun had even begin to rise. 

A quick glance through his supplies and a gentle pat to sooth Epona and he was off. 

He knows he’ll make everyone worry. A dull sense of guilt pulsing in his chest. But it was pushed down by the sense of ‘far too much’ within him. 

All he could do was pray that wherever the path led him next, it would bring some sort of relief. 

Perhaps he would return home with a stronger resolve. Perhaps he could find peace. 

Perhaps…he could return with a smile that wasn’t on the verge of tearing itself apart…

. . .

. .

.

(…He could only really hope.)

[thekitsunesiren]

hello mind if I drop off a prompt?

Damian let's his family know he is going to hang out with a friend.

a bat bugs Damian to find him hanging out with one Danni Fenton.

adult Danny/Sam/Tucker parenting a 12 year old Danni.

The trio earn Auntie/Uncle/Uncle privileges from Damian.

Oh, this will be fun!

Okay, first things first would be the absolute disbelief from the batfam from Damian's announcement. Because Damian. Damian "Demon Brat" Wayne, had a friend. A friend that they didn't have the knowledge of knowing until just then.

With Damian springing it on them, they didn't have the time to ask any important questions, let alone do a background check on the kid and their family.

From what Damian told them, the kid they were meeting was named Danielle, but she preferred to be called Ellie. She and her parents had moved to Gotham not too long ago. He met her on a pure coincidence. And of course, with how paranoid the Batfam was, that didn't settle well for them. The parents could've sent their child to get close to the Wayne family for the money. Or kidnap Damian!

Tim walked up to Damian and ruffled his hair while teasing the younger Wayne about how he finally made a friend that wasn't an animal. With a scoff and a swat as a way to get rid of the opposing limb, Damian turned and left the manor while slamming the door behind him.

As soon as it closed, Tim raced back to where he left his computer. There was no way he wasn't going to let his little brother go anywhere unknown without at least two trackers on him. And with how the others quickly scrambled behind him to get a look on his computer, the others had the same thought.

------

Damian, however, was excited to visit Dani and her family.

The two had met when he was leaving school and waiting for Alfred to pick him up. And she wasn't that far from him, standing near the road waiting for someone to pick her up as well. At first glance, she looks like she could be someone adopted by father. Black hair tied to a ponytail and shockingly bright blue eyes. Immediately, he saw her as someone that his father would try to adopt just off of appearance alone. With her seeming to be around his age, he could claim that he could have a sibling to interact with more.

Of course, it wasn't long before the stranger took notice of his staring and turned to look him dead on. Her eyes meeting his in a serious stare down where neither of them moved.

When Damian made the move to speak, a car pulled up in front of the girl. The passenger side window rolling down and someone talking to the girl. She responded in turn before opening the passenger side door and getting in. Damian could only stand and watch as the car soon pulled away from the school and drive away into the distance. Not long afterwards, Alfred arrived to pick him up and he rode in silence on the way home while contemplating the other student that he met.

Okay! Here's how I feel like it would go down with their so called meeting out of the way.

Damian would see Dani and would immediately assume that she would be some sort of clone of either his father or one of the other bats. Was she sent to his school to watch and observe him? Did she know who his alter ego was?

After that, he would be watching her every move during class, surprising himself to find out that she was even in a few of his classes. Suspicious.

Does he approach her? No, because that would put too much on him and probably give her the opening she was expecting. He was ten steps ahead of her in every way!

Day after day, he watches and takes note of everything that she does, trying to notice any oddities in her behavior. Or any sign that she was spying on him.

While she didn't seem to be spying on him directly, Damian did notice her personality of being strong willed, stubborn and having a love for puns. Hm, a clone of the Robins maybe instead of Batman?

Dani, on the other hand, is wondering why the young Wayne seemed to be following her from a distance ever since they've seen each other that day on the end of school. From what Danny told her, it was the older Wayne's that she was supposed to avoid in case she was forcefully kidnapped, though it seemed that the younger Wayne was just as bad as the older ones.

How did Dani end up going to Damian's school, you ask? Well, it was simple:

Not long after Danny defeated Pariah Dark and took up the mantel as the next King of the Infinite Realms, Dani had returned from her travels around the world and decided to spend a bit of time with Danny as things calmed down. Maybe even get to know the others a bit better, seeing as she was never properly introduced to them.

She found out that he was dating both Sam and Tucker. Had been for a while now. Huh, go figure. And during that time of dating, she had arrived to catch up and spend a bit more time of all of them. Maybe even try to find a good reason to stay in Amity for a bit longer (even though she really loved to travel).

But not too long after that, a reveal gone wrong left Dani standing in a room with a frantic Sam packing up everything she owned while Jazz treated a barely conscious Danny's wound on his side. A gunshot wound that was from his parents no doubt.

One rushed explanation from Jazz about how the reveal went wrong, and how they had to leave Amity Park. Now.

With a quick meet up with Tucker, the five of them were huddled in a car and pedaling out of Amity as fast as they could. Dani staying in the back seat with Jazz to watch over Danny and make sure that he didn't pass out again on their way to-wherever it was they were going. Her core wouldn't allow it.

The clone didn't know how far they've been driving and for how long, but she knew that they were out of Amity and that was all that mattered. But the question bouncing around her head was: what happens now?

And the answer was to drive all the way called Gotham city and lay low for a while. Thankfully, a lot of the buildings were no questions asked. So when they find a place that could fit all of them (small and cramped as it was) while planning on what to do now. Of course Sam, Tucker, and Jazz all pretty much up and left without much except for some spare clothes and their ghost hunting gear (and a credit card Sam managed to snag from her mom's purse. Her own card didn't have as much on it.). But Danny was out of there and they were safe from both the Fentons and the GIW. For now.

Now, several weeks have passed. Jazz had managed to find a job to help with the money, while Sam and Tucker were both on the way as well. Which left Dani pretty much alone in the apartment with a slowly healing Danny. And while he was healing, he was kept on house arrest, much to his ire. Though he did help out with the cooking and other house chores while the others were out doing their own thing. And if the two of them occasionally floating outside their apartment during the night, who would tell on them?

When about two months passed, the older teens realized that Gotham would be their permanent home until further notice, so it would only be right that they allow Dani some time to get out as well.

So, they enroll her to school! Gotham U no less (Thank you, Tucker). Sure it was a bit stuffy for their tastes (mostly Sam's), but they were sure that Dani would fit in fine! What's the worst that could happen?

Unfortunately, Dani was a clone of Danny, so she was off to a bit of a rough start. And she hadn't really interacted with someone of her (supposed) age before, so it was all plenty new for her. So she really didn't know where to start.

It wasn't until she went to class that she met a kid in the back row facing the window, who looked like he didn't want to be in this class either. And during attendance she learned that his name was Damian Wayne. Odd, wasn't that the name of that rich family that Sam talked (more like complained) about? Oh well, coincidence maybe.

Throughout the entire day, Dani would notice that if they had the same class, he would be looking in her direction for moments at a time.

It was about the last class of the day when Dani pieced together as to why he could be doing that.

Oh..

He was shy!

Well, Dani would make sure that wouldn't last long. And maybe he would approach her soon.

So every day, Dani would work on getting to know him better. Even when he would brush her off and try to make her go away. She was as stubborn as Danny for a reason!

When the two finally became friends and Dani told that her new friend invited her to her house and also offered her parents, she forgot on whether or not that was truly the rich Wayne she was supposed to stay away from.

Dani had spoken about her friend plenty of times, and all of her parents seemed to like him.

Danny laughed every time Dani spoke about doing something or possibly pranking Damian, thinking that she was doing good with socialization and that the kid had to enjoy their friendship to some degree.

Sam was a bit more cautious of the friend, asking more of his likes and dislikes. Was he really bullying Dani? Did he say anything mean to her? Did she have to go to the school and fight a kid? All and all, Dani slowly convinced her that Damian was a good kid and she let it be. Telling Sam that Damian was a vegan may or may not have helped.

Tucker was a bit more lenient than the other two. The kid was nice to her? Didn't bully her? He was smart and knew his way around tech? Good

But as they stood in front of Wayne Mansion dressed in their more casual clothes, they all thought that they should've asked more questions about Dani's friend.

(All in all: neither of them have truly interacted with someone their age, your honor.)

Confrontations, miscommunication, and possibly a lot of bonding could come from both sides, and I would love to see it!