#but what’s the point when all of it will fade away and crumble into nothing

[lonelydipshit]

Getting emotional about the inherent transience of human connection and how we are all only fleeting moments in each other’s lives.

[flwrstqr]

✶ : ENHYPEN WHEN YOU MAKE THEM FLUSTER ╰——𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝖺 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗌

𝑜𝑓 · 𝖲𝖧𝖮𝖶𝓉𝖨𝖬𝖤 ⦂ bf!enhypen x f!r 1OOOwc. ── est relationship, skinship, petnames ｡｡ ⠀fluff ✦ 𝓒ATALOGUE ♡ ◞

 DANi : my christmas gift for my flueries hehe (> <)

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚 heeseung pauses mid-bite, chopsticks hovering in the air as he catches you staring at him. you’re perched on the edge of the counter, chin in your hand, a soft smirk playing on your lips. “what?” he mumbles, the tips of his ears already turning pink. “nothing,” you say, but your gaze doesn’t waver, tracing the way his lips curl around his words and the slight furrow of his brows. “you’re just... really cute when you eat.” his eyes widen, and he sets his bowl down a little too quickly, spilling some broth. “cute? who says that?” he huffs, but his voice cracks slightly, betraying him. you lean in, close enough to brush his bangs out of his eyes, and whisper, “i do.” heeseung freezes, unable to meet your eyes, muttering something about how unfair you are. yeah, he’s so down bad, and he knows it.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚 jay’s hand stills on the page of the book he’s reading when you lean in, far closer than necessary, to point at something in the text. he glances at you out of the corner of his eye, trying not to focus on how your shoulder brushes his or how he can feel the faint warmth of your breath. “you’re really into this, huh?” you tease softly, and his ears turn crimson, though he clears his throat like it’s nothing. “it’s... interesting,” he replies, his voice steady despite the way his heart’s racing. you tilt your head, your face just inches from his, and he freezes. “jay, are you blushing?” you ask, a playful lilt in your voice. he straightens up immediately, closing the book with a soft thud. “no, i’m just warm,” he lies smoothly, standing up to grab you a drink because, even flustered, he’s ever the gentleman.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡 it happens so suddenly—you’re walking side by side, the world around you fading into a serene hum, when your fingers brush against his. before you know it, your fingers, almost shy, find their way to jake’s lacing together. his head snaps toward you, surprise flickering in his eyes before it melts into something softer—something teasing. “what’s this?” he grins, a playful lilt in his voice. “couldn’t resist holding my hand, huh?” you roll your eyes, mumbling something about it just being cold, but the way his thumb brushes over your knuckles sends your excuse crumbling. “sure, keep telling yourself that,” he murmurs, leaning closer, his breath tickling your ear. now it’s you who’s flustered, cheeks burning as he laughs, his own face just a touch pinker. “you’re cute when you’re all shy, you know that?” jake always wins these games, and it’s almost unfair—almost.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡 when you tie sunghoon's tie, sunghoon goes weak on his knees. he's standing so close, his tall frame looming over you, and you can feel the heat radiating off him. his eyes flicker down to your face, and you catch how his gaze lingers on your lips before quickly darting away. "you're hopeless at this," you tease softly, tugging the fabric snug against his collar. his ears turn red, and he lets out a soft, nervous laugh, his hands fidgeting at his sides. but before you can tease him further, he tilts your chin up, and suddenly, his lips are on yours. when he pulls back, his cheeks are a deep red. "i had to shut you up somehow," he mumbles, avoiding your wide-eyed gaze as he adjusts his tie.

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢 it happens so subtly, that even you almost miss it. your hand brushes against sunoo’s jawline as you fix his collar. his expression doesn’t falter at first—cool and composed, the way he always is (our #nonchalant king)—but then you let your thumb gently graze his skin. that’s when it happens. his breath hitches, his eyes flickering down before darting back up, and for the briefest moment, his cheeks turn flushed. “what are you doing?” he asks, voice quieter than usual. but you can see it now: the faint pink dusting his cheeks, the way he bites the inside of his cheek to keep from reacting further. you smile, leaning in a little closer. “just fixing your collar,” you murmur.

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡 it’s the way you catch him off guard, leaning in with that teasing little grin he can never resist. your lips brush his cheek first, before you shift just enough to press a proper kiss to the corner of his mouth. “baby,” you whisper. jungwon stays perfectly still, his smile unfaltering—cool, easy, like nothing you do ever fazes him—but the flush creeping up his neck betrays him. his hand instinctively reaches for your waist. “what’s wrong, wonnie?” you tease, and his grin widens. “you’re impossible,” he replies. and when you laugh, kissing him again just to hear him sigh your name, he’s already leaning in, completely and utterly yours.

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜 the moment the words "pretty boy" leave your lips, riki freezes for a split second, eyes wide before he scoffs, trying to play it off. "you’re so annoying," he mutters, but his cheeks are turning pink, and he can’t hide it. you grin, leaning closer just to push his buttons further, and he groans dramatically. "stop looking at me like that, it’s weird!" he complains, but then—like clockwork—he pulls you by the waist, burying his face in your shoulder to hide his embarrassment. "you’re the worst," he mumbles, voice muffled, but his arms tighten around you. when you tease him again, calling him "my pretty boy," he pulls back just enough to glare at you. "seriously, stop it!" he protests, only to mess up your hair . but his smile gives him away of how madly in love he is with you.

[wandasaura]

EVEN STATUES CRUMBLE

summary — when exhaustion creeps up on you after a long week, you find yourself coming undone quickly. luckily, maria’s there to hold you close and put all of your broken pieces back together

warning(s) — hurt/comfort, elements of fluff, domestic maria hill, platonic blackhill, brief mentions of battle, civilian casualties, and death, sleepy natasha being a softie, maria fixing all of your problems because that’s just what she does

The keycard attached to the waistband of your pants got you into pretty much anywhere aboard the helicarrier; one of the very few perks that came with being a Level Ten agent alongside Nicholas J. Fury. You adored your livelihood, that wasn’t even a question you graveled over on your busiest days – you wouldn’t sacrifice so many nights if you didn’t – however, with being so high on the ladder of ranks came the inevitable burnout when paperwork and mission reports piled up; which they inevitably always did despite your meticulous schedule and borderline obsessive work ethic. You delegated the workload of ten other agents on the daily, usually without so much as breaking a sweat, but a particular mission report from a Level Six had gotten to you in a moment of exhaustion. 

Your boots were the same Shield issued footwear that everyone else wore around the helicarrier, clunky and steel toed with near indestructible black laces, but your footsteps were light as you padded down the dimly lit hallway toward an office you’d practically adopted as your own since the director had found himself another right-hand woman. There was no point in knocking when you reached it after what felt like hours of slowly trudging down void hallways, you were the only one with clearance to enter without being physically let in, other than Fury himself, but he’d never turn up to her office, especially not so late into the night. The soft glow of a desk lamp creeping beneath the crack in the door alerted you of life inside the spacious room, and a faint smile pulled at your lips despite your exhaustion and wary emotions. 

A small light on the side of the metal door flashed green for only a millisecond before it faded and the latch clicked tellingly. You bristled at the assault of frigid air that swept past you when you pushed inside tiredly, but steeled your expressions quickly when your eyes trailed over the room and noted not one, but two bodies. A displeased huff fell off of your lips when you noticed Maria behind her desk, a mountain of paperwork practically hiding her from view entirely, and Natasha sprawled out on her couch with a solemn glaze over her green eyes. 

“She’s in my spot.” You sighed, no real malice behind your words, but exhaustion put a damper on your typically lightspoken banter with the redhead. It seems both you and Natasha, a woman that had somehow wormed her way into the heart of the Deputy Director despite her bloodied past, had sought refuge in Maria’s quiet presence tonight, and you weren’t quite sure how to feel about it. You held nothing against the reformed assassin, she’d seen you at some of your worst moments, but you’d been holding out hope that a few stolen minutes with Maria alone would heal the ache you carried deep. 

Natasha, who was always quick with her wit, didn’t seem to have it in her either, and softly she allowed her voice to break the silence that had been light over the office prior to your entrance. “I can leave.” You shook your head dismissively, kicking the door closed behind you in favor of stalking over to Maria’s desk. 

Out of habit, the Commander tilted her screen away from your gaze, her dark yet meticulously kept eyebrows furrowing as you came behind her desk without hesitation. “I’m higher clearance than you, and Natasha’s been able to see everything you're doing from the couch, Ria.” You rolled your eyes fondly, hands bracing themselves on the back of her chair that you pulled away from the desk without taking her responsibilities into account. She had the same deadlines as you, only hers weren’t so structured and rigorous. You knew that anything she was doing could wait until morning, even if she liked to be overly prepared and considered anything but early a direct hit to her reputation. “Just hold me.” 

You fell into her lap without another word, curling up against her battered and stiff uniform that had definitely seen better days. Your head tucked itself into the pocket of darkness and warmth between her chin and shoulder, your fingers already working at the hair tie around her thin chestnut strands, wanting them free from the confines of her tightly secured bun. With the black elastic around your wrist, you sighed contently, absentmindedly pulling your fingers through the loose knots that had formed from your ungraceful removal of her hair tie. It was an apologetic gesture, the tips of your fingers soothing the skin of her scalp that had definitely been snagged with your quick movements, but Maria had become accustomed to your endearing quirks that almost always followed a vicious panic attack. 

“Romanoff, if you move from that couch, I will have you on Clint clean-up duty for the rest of the month.” Even if you couldn’t see the Russian from behind your eyelids, even if you were pressed so tightly against Maria’s neck that even with open eyes all you’d see was darkness, your body could practically feel her silent movements. It was a valid response, however you held her to a higher standard than you did other agents. Your girlfriend trusted her with her life, you’d made something of a friend out of her since her first year at Shield, it was slightly insulting that she thought she had to flee at the first sight of vulnerability from you. “I just… I just need a minute.” 

Even as you tried to pull rank, tried to command her obedience, Natasha could tell that your heart wasn’t in it. Whether to humor you, or simply because she didn’t really want to retreat to her own quarters, she sank into the couch once more, throwing her arm over her eyes as she succumbed to the same darkness that you sought out. A shaky breath fell off your lips when Maria’s thumbs dug into your shoulder blades, applying pressure to all of the knots and tension that had accumulated over the grueling week. You’d been unintentionally ghosting her, although neither of you really counted missed lunch dates and empty beds to mean anything significant, but the premise was all the same, even if she held no resentment toward your work ethic that was too similar to her own. 

“Diaz?” Maria’s voice was soft, understanding even, as she asked. Even the name of the agent had you going rigid in her clutches, a choked whimper falling off of your lips as you tightened your grip on her hair and worked feverishly to weave little braids into the silky chestnut strands that could do for a wash and deep condition. You’d have to remember to remind her next time she had a slow morning, but that wasn’t coming anytime soon for either of you. 

You nodded wordlessly against her neck, pinching your eyes shut even tighter if that was at all possible. You loved your job, adored the livelihood that you’d found a family in, but no amount of experience made reading civilian death counts easier. No amount of experience made loss any lighter. “Seventeen, Ria. Seventeen people died. It just– I haven’t seen a civilian death count that high since Sokovia.” 

In retrospect, seventeen people wasn’t a lot, not when you put it up against the battle of Sokovia that had earned Shield another foreign agent and an inconsolable migraine for months to follow, but when you analyzed the mission objective, when you stripped back everything that it was up against, it was still seventeen innocent people that had been caught in the crossfire. “We can’t save them all, mi alma.” It was a weak condolence, Maria knew that, but it was what you needed to hear, even if you detested it. Shield had saved twenty from a Hydra base in Madripoor, all of them no older than nineteen years old, but still seventeen people that were in the wrong place at the wrong time had died. Shield had saved twenty children, but still parents, and siblings, and people had lost their lives to do so. Was any good really done if the children who got to go home didn’t have a mother to help them through the trauma? Had any good really been done if a daughter didn’t have a father to come home to? 

��Eleven.” To Natasha, the number that fell off your lips was entirely random, but for Maria, who knew everything about you, down to the way you liked to tie your shoes, always starting with the left one first, it meant something more. Eleven people had died in an ambush the night that Nicholas J. Fury had swept you away from the rubble and into the empire that hadn’t been so publicly known at the time. Eleven people that you’d known, some loosely and some deeply intimately. Your single mother that had worked four jobs just to keep the electric on in the biting cold of winter had died, and you’d held her hand as she took her final breath, entirely helpless and terrified. Seventeen people had died in Madripoor, and depressingly, you could only picture yourself in the aftermath of such a tragedy. 

How many kids were going to come home from school without a parent? How many parents were going to come home from work without a child? The guilt of surviving weighed heavily on your heart, but it was exhaustion that pushed you past the point of thinking rationally. Madripoor had sung its praises to Shield after the initial battle just under a month ago. You’d seen the headlines, manned the press conferences, talked with the families that had wanted to reach out, but seeing that number in pristine black ink had rattled you fiercely. 

“When’s the last time you slept, bebé?” The softly spoken pet name was usually enough to bring a smile to your face no matter the conditions you faced, but it only had you sinking deeper into Maria now. Your heart felt so heavy in your chest, your bones felt so dense in your body, everything that you’d been managing had finally crushed you; just like the rubble had crushed your mother’s unsuspecting body on a side street in Manhattan when all she’d wanted to do was show you her new favorite coffee shop. 

“Don’t know… the last time I came home?” Your voice was meek, distant as you trailed through your memory trying to locate the date in your mind. You’d been home that Wednesday night, sank into bed beside Maria and held her close until she’d gotten up for her own shift, and had continued to sleep for another two hours before sunlight brought on more assignments and deadlines, but that was so fuzzy now, so long ago. You barely knew the date, but Maria did, and she sighed softly in confirmation. 

“It’s Friday, sweetheart.” She informed, her thumbs still digging into the spots of tension in your back, working out the knots and kinks that had you stiff beneath her touch. “You’re exhausted.” 

“And you’re not? I check the entry logs, Ria.” Your defiance was softly muttered, and Maria sighed her resignation. She hadn’t been home either, not since Thursday morning when she’d slipped out of your arms and left you to rest a while longer in a stiff bed dressed in scratchy sheets, but she’d taken the breaks she knew her body needed, even if it had been begrudgingly. The couch that Natasha was draped across had seen a similar form from her multiple times since then, even if the longest consecutive rest she’d gotten was merely half an hour. That was the difference between you both. Maria knew when she had to come first, even if she often waited until the very last second to actually step away from her tasks. You, on the other hand, saw everything else as a priority. That was what got you so high on the ranking ladder. That characteristic was one of many reasons why you alone shared the same ranking level as Fury. When shit needed to be done, he knew that you’d do it, no questions asked. But that blindsided work-ethic was going to kill you eventually. 

“You’ve slept once in the last week, mi amor.” Maria sighed, knowing that she was arguing with a wall at this point, but willing to put the effort in anyways. She was always willing to put the effort in for you, even if you couldn’t do it for yourself. Her hands caressed your back affectionately, slipping away from your shoulder blades only to put pressure on your spine, cracking the bones and notches in your back soothingly without spoken word. You sighed, deflating in her lap once again, craning your neck only to release some of the ache and tension in your jaw before you burrowed into her neck once more, still keeping fistfulls of her soft hair between your fingers that had been stained black from smudged ink. 

At some point, you must’ve fallen asleep against her, never slackening your grip on her chestnut tresses but grabbing onto the neckline of her uniform at an undisclosed moment. She hadn’t tried to move you, hadn’t tried to wake you, hadn’t tried to move at all. She’d simply sat in the silence of her office with Natasha’s easy company, shuffling through paperwork and mission reports, but getting no real work done, distracted by your warmth against her chest and the weight of you draped across her lap for the first time in days. When you woke a handful of hours later, the warmth of the sun and the light of a new day rousing you from an uneventful sleep – the level of exhaustion you faced preventing dreams from even playing out – you didn’t stiffen in alarmed surprise when you realized that strong arms were looped around your waist and keeping you steadily upright. Maria was a distinguishable presence even when you were half delirious, and a warm smile pulled at the corners of your lips as you laid a gentle kiss to the neglected patch of skin behind her earring-less earlobe. She really needed to start wearing her cartilage cuffs again, but the last one you’d gotten for her had been lost to a bloodied battle in Argentina. You made the mental note to get her another one sometime soon, but for now, you simply basked in the presence of her company that was so painfully warm and inviting. 

“You had Romanoff on edge last night.” Maria mused, her fingers tightening around your waist in a sweet wordless greeting, prematurely ending the reign of silence that you’d been enjoying, but you didn’t complain. The sound of her voice was just as inviting, if not more intoxicating than silence ever could be. 

“Even statues crumble every now and again.” You huffed against her neck, tightening your grip on her uniform if that was at all possible, allowing your gentle fingers to tickle the skin hidden from view that still carried the lingering scent of your body wash. “She’ll get over it.” 

“You really have to stop referring to yourself as a statue. The rookies are going to start thinking an alien attack sucked the emotions out of your body..” She chortled, breathy laughter twinged with traces of mental exhaustion jostling both of your bodies, and you couldn’t help the smile that twisted your dehydrated lips upward involuntarily in response. How you could spend so many days away from her never made sense when you were wrapped up in her presence, but it was reassuring to know that no matter the length of time that separated your passionate love, she would always be there to crawl home to. 

“As soon as you stop feeding into being called Hard-Ass Hill, I’ll stop fucking with the rookies.” Another chaste kiss was laid onto her skin, the second in too many days to count, but you’d make up for your absence before you inevitably returned to your own office to continue drowning in paperwork that never ended. “Te amo tanto.” You signed your unarguable admiration, but she wouldn’t be Maria Hill if she didn’t have a sharp comeback to silence your efforts. 

“Te amo mucho mas, mi alma.”

[girllblogging777]

𝐹𝑅𝐼𝐺𝐻𝑇 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐹𝐿𝐼𝑅𝑇𝐴𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁

↳ mattheo riddle x fem!reader (best friends, flirting)

↳ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 : 1.4k

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 : exploring a haunted house isn’t very pleasant… except when your flirty best friend mattheo is with you.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

you never should’ve let the boys convince you to sneak out after curfew.

the slytherin common room had been buzzing with energy earlier, filled with laughter and stories about the supposedly haunted house at the border of the forbidden forest. you’d been reading your book, half listening to what your friends were saying as they argued about whether or not they believed in these rumours, or if it was just another one of the castle’s unsolved mysteries.

“it’s not even that far,” theo had said casually, grinning. “we’ll be back before anyone notices.” and of course, you didn’t wanna be the only one to back out. not when you were the only girl in the group, always trying to prove yourself to them. not when you wanted to keep that confident and fierce image you had. and especially not when mattheo riddle was watching you with that usual smirk of his, his dark eyes practically daring you to say no.

✩✩✩✩

so here you were tonight, standing outside some old crumbling building that once had been called a house. the full moon hung high in the sky, casting eerie shadows around you and the boys. the air was colder here too, sending shivers down your back and under the knitted sweater you were wearing. but, of course, you weren’t gonna let anyone know that.

enzo and blaise were already thrilled when they pushed open the door, making plans and chatting excitedly about the little nighttime adventure you were having. draco and theo strode confidently behind them, following them inside and leaving you standing next to mattheo, who was staring at you with crossed arms, looking calmer than you’d even seen him.

“scared yet ?” he asked, his voice low and teasing. you rolled your eyes and scoffed, pretending you didn’t notice the way your heart rate sped up - from the alluring boy or the frightening house next to you, that you didn’t know. “please. this place is barely standing. the only thing i’m worried about is the roof caving in.”

he chuckled at your answer and leaned closer “don’t worry. if it does, i’ll protect you.”

your stomach flipped, and this time you knew it had nothing to do with whatever ghosts were inside that house. the brunette boy was the only human being who had such an effect on you, and you hated it. “ghosts be damned,” you muttered, shaking your head as you followed the others inside. “i don’t need your protection.”

“that we’ll see, love” mattheo said behind you, barely above a whisper.

inside, the house was somehow creepier than you’d imagined. there was dust everywhere, and when the floor creaked beneath your steps, you understood why all these rumours had been invented in the first place. despite the darkness, you could see the faded paintings on the wall, following you as you walked down the narrow hallway. at some point you could’ve sworn one of the figures on the portraits moved, but when you turned to look at it, nothing.

a couple of feet away, blaise was laughing at something draco had said, but you were too busy scanning the dark corners of the house to listen to their conversation. theo was already taking about splitting up, which of course, only managed to make the anxiety tighten in your chest.

“everyone, make groups !” the boys declared, clearly excited and proud of their idea. “makes it more fun”

before you could protest, mattheo was at your side again. you’d been hyper aware of his presence behind you for the past couple of minutes, and now there he was, grinning down at you as your shoulders brushed. “well, looks like we’re partners, then.” you shot him a look. “convenient.”

“hey, you’ll thank me later,” he said with a wink, and it took everything in you not to make another sarcastic remark. still, you couldn’t help but feel a little relieved now, knowing you wouldn’t walk through this scary place alone.

the two of you silently ventured down another hallway, away from where the others were heading. the floorboards creaked with every step you took, the shadows of your tall figures stretching out against the wall as you moved deeper into the house. it was unnervingly quiet, but the sound of mattheo’s steady breaths and confident footsteps reassured you a little.

the brown eyed boy glanced at you, his pupils gleaming with amusement. “you’re quiet, getting nervous ?” you muttered a barely audible “i’m fine” though you couldn’t ignore the quickening of your pulse. you hated haunted places, or even darkness in general, but you’d rather get crucio-ed than admit that to him.

he moved closer, his warm breath hitting your neck, and you found yourself unconsciously leaning towards him when he spoke, “you can hold my hand if you get scared.” you glared at him, grateful the obscurity of the scene hid the blush on your cheek, “in your dreams.”

he laughed softly but he didn’t push it, still, his presence was oddly comforting. it made you feel a little less like something was about to jump out from the shadows, and a little more like you wanted him even closer.

somehow, the air in the house seemed to grow colder the further you walked. every once in a while, you’d hear something : a creak, a whisper, maybe just the wind, but it sets your nerves on edge.

suddenly, a loud bang echoed from one of the rooms down the hall and you jumped, grabbing mattheo’s arm without even thinking. your heart raced, and you cursed under your breath when you realised what had just happened.

“told you” he said, a grin slowly spreading across his face as he looked down at where your hand gripped his hand. you scowled, quickly letting go. “that was just instinct.” still smiling, he nodded “sure, sure…” but then his gaze softened, and his voice dropped. “don’t worry, i’ve got you.”

something in his tone made your breath catch, and for a second, you forgot where you were. the haunted house, the cold, the creepy portraits, all of it faded as you stared up at him, trying to figure out if he was being serious or if this was more of his usual flirting.

before you could say anything, another loud sound echoed from upstairs. this time, it wasn’t just a bang. it was footsteps. slow, deliberate footsteps moving across the ceiling. you froze, every muscle in your body tensing as you looked up. riddle stepped in front of you, his usual playful expression gone and replaced by something more serious.

“stay close,” he whispered and you nodded as you followed him up the creaky stairs , ignoring the tightening in your throat. each step felt heavier than the previous one and the closer you got to the top floor, the louder the sound became. you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone, or something, was watching you.

mattheo’s hand brushed against yours again, and this time you didn’t pull away. you were too focused on the shadows that seemed to move on their own, on the way the cold seemed to press in on you from all sides.

“do you trust me ?” he asked quietly. you looked up at him, surprised by the seriousness in his voice. he’d always been flirty and playful when it came to you, blurring the lines between friendship and more. however, tonight, things felt different. despite everything, you nodded “yeah…”

he squeezed your hand lightly, his hand never leaving yours. “good, because i’m not letting anything happen to you.”

“oi !” theo’s voice echoed through the hall, startling the both of you and shattering the blissful bubble you were in. you quickly dropped mattheo’s hand and stepped back, but it was too late.

theo was grinning, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed, looking far too amused for someone in a haunted house, and for your liking. “well, well, well… look at you two getting all cozy up here.” your face heated up immediately, but mattheo just smirked, clearly unfazed. “jealous ?” theo proceeded to snort, “of you ? never.”

he glanced between the two of you, and the teasing look in his eyes made you wanna disappear. “we’re heading back, this place is more boring than we thought it would be. meet us downstairs and don’t get lost… or, you know, distracted.”

with that, he turned around and disappeared back down the dusty stairs, leaving you and mattheo standing there in awkward silence. you could feel your chest thumping as you tried to figure out what to say, looking at the old wallpaper that was falling apart instead of meeting his gaze.

“see ?” he whispered, leaning down just enough for you to hear. “told you i’d protect you. even from theo’s terrible sense of humour.” you groaned and pushed him slightly, the banter between you settling back down, “shut up !”

you may have hated haunted houses, but the truth was, you kind of liked the way his hand felt in yours.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

a/n : hey ! this is me making my weekly appearance on this app, cause i just HAD to write about this request

please comment and reblog ! tag list (comment if you wanna be added) @tateshifts @redeemingvillains @helendeath @jolly4holly @larmesdevanille @dexoq @reys-letters @shiftingwithmars @shiftingwithleah @fbvreadingblog @moonlightreader649 @bellatrix-lestrange5 @sp7-mr @sunkissedscribbles @chelawrites @myunperfektstorys @iris-qt @yikesitslush @clar2aa @deadsnakey @deadghosy @slut-for-fictional-men @romantasyreader28 @witchsrecs

[fushiguruuzzzz]

wc ~800. req by @chlosology for 700 event. not proofread.

nights in with suna were, to put it simply, the highlight of your week.

it was nothing special, really. the two of you would nestle up in your dorm — never his, it reeked of testosterone and atsumu’s unwashed socks — with a ridiculously packed bag from the convenience store and your pyjamas that were probably his. it may not have been the picture of extravagance, but it was a moment of simmering calm in the midst of bleeding ink and late nights, and that was far more than you would ever even ask for. a night in with your friend was enough, enough to keep your neurotic mind sane for the time being.

legs thrown over his lap, the heat of his palm pressed firmly into your calf as the flash from the television casted colourful glows over his face. he looked good, face soft and relaxed in the moment but features sharp all the same. his narrowed eyes flicked away from the screen before him momentarily, only allowing himself to catch a brief glimpse of your gaze before pulling himself back together.

your hangouts were friendly. always friendly, always casual and chill and quiet. but the truth? it was making rintaro fall apart at the seams. by no means was he an easily flustered man, but somehow every shift of your body against his, no matter how subtle, had his throat drying and instead being invaded by a thick, affection shaped lump. he hated it, to be frank. who were you, to step into his life with annoyingly kind eyes and gentle hands, to break down his laidback exterior without even trying? he was mildly convinced that you’d bewitched him. nothing else explained it. nothing. not that it was love or anything, that was crazy. the world would turn to ash before rintaro suna was head over heels, crumble beneath his fingertips, and he was bound to fade away knowing he kept his dignity until the very end. but he didn’t; you were beside him and you were beautiful, and he wanted to leap out of his skin.

“I don’t like that guy,” you cut in, followed by a crunch as you popped a chip in your mouth. he stared for a second too long, stuck on how casual you were about all of it. when had the roles reversed, when had he become the mess? what exactly was the point that he became the puddle at your feet, and you the heat the caused him to meet the ground?

he responded with a halfhearted hum, head turning to you sluggishly as if it had not been that way for half of the movie already. “why not?”

you gave a shrug, chewing away at your salty snack for a beat longer. you figured the answer would not matter much even if you did have one, seeing as suna was only half paying attention anyway. “I jus’ don’t, I dunno.”

he sniggered softly, lips pulling up into a barely perceptible smirk. “don’t talk with your mouth full. what are you, four?”

your brows furrowed in an exaggerated sort of irritation, but he did not miss the way your face pulled up in embarrassment. “forgive me for answering your question, jeez.”

“I could’ve easily waited. i’m a patient man, you know.”

the scoff that tumbled from your lips said enough, but he was sure you would add a snarky remark, too. suna was calm, every move commenced with a sluggish precision that was nearly disturbing. he did not care for academics, but always tried just enough to get a passing grade. he talked just enough to maintain stable relationships with his friends (though you were an exception, but that’s not related at the moment), spent just enough money to stay comfortable with his savings. he was lazy, but he had an ability to keep balance in this prejudiced world, and that was an admirable trait in itself. he did just enough.

and he loved you just enough. he loved you from the corner of the room, from the foot of the bed as he gazed at you with keen eyes and wondered if maybe, just maybe, there was something he deemed worth the effort. he wondered that if he gave you the chance, you would spend your days curled up watching half-boring sitcoms and horror movies, letting him be lazy for everything but you. like the moon, ever avoidant, but reflecting the light of the sun in every waking moment. that sort of dedication was foreign to rintaro, but as you tossed another snack into your mouth and met his gaze with a amused fondness that made his chest clench, he figured everything found something to be devoted to at some point.

“thinking you’re too cool to push for answers doesn’t mean patience, rin.”

nevermind.

a/n: this event is making me write for more people waowwww!!! sorry i’ve been so slow with them, im getting to it!! <3

[arieslost]

you have pushed me to ask so here I go

I present my idea of motorcyclist!oscar and his gf who is afraid of motorcycles. He convinces her to try it onc3 and BOOM hands around him holding on the dear life.

I want to hold on to him

I can't stop thinking about that tiktok

here's a ss I took from the tiktok edit

what a yummy man

the entire time i wrote this i kept coming back to look at this picture because oh my goodness gracious. i hope this lives up to ur expectations <33 definitely wanna write more biker!osc after this

© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

hold on tight | op81

“Just one time?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No way.”

“Do you even love me at all?” Oscar asks dramatically, jutting his lower lip out for extra effect. 

“That’s not going to work on me, Piastri.” You shake your head vehemently. “I refuse to get on that death machine. It’s bad enough that you ride it all the time.”

“Come onnnn,” he whines, tugging you up off of the bed and into his arms. 

The two of you look like polar opposites— him with his leather jacket and riding gloves still on, smelling faintly of exhaust, and you in plaid pajama pants and one of his worn out t-shirts. You suppose that’s what makes your relationship work so well, opposites attract and whatever. All relationships take compromise though, and this is one “compromise” that, thus far, you’ve refused to make. 

In your eyes, it’s not a compromise. But Oscar has been asking you to be his “backpack” practically since the two of you met. 

“What do I have to do to convince you?” He’s asking, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. 

“Hmm, nothing.” You smile up at him, and it fades just as fast when you see the excitement in his eyes. “Because it’s never going to happen. I like being alive, thank you very much.”

“Baby, you know you’ll be safe with me. I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.” He says sincerely, his pleading tone now gone. “I’ve been riding my entire life. I did all the crashing before I got my license. Haven’t crashed since.”

“Yeah, that makes me feel better.” You mutter, hiding your face in his chest so he can’t see your resolve slowly starting to crumble. 

“It would be so fun,” he continues, arms tightening around your frame as he starts to sway you both side to side a little. “All you’d have to do is hold on to me. I’ll do all the work. You trust me, don’t you?” 

“With all things except the death machine,” you say, voice muffled by the material of his jacket. 

“I love you, but I’m gonna need you to stop calling her ‘the death machine,’ honey.”

“Her?” You look up at him, affronted. “I’m definitely not doing it now. Wouldn’t want to get between you and the other woman in your life.” 

Oscar laughs. His laugh has always been more of a giggle around you, which is such a contrast to his outward appearance that it never fails to make you melt. 

“You’re the only woman for me, which is why you’re the only woman I’ve ever asked to be my backpack.” He says. 

“Don’t try to butter me up with the whole backpack thing again.” You roll your eyes and try to pull away from him, but he somehow manages to twirl you and bring you right back into him. 

“It’s not me buttering you up, I’m just telling the truth. Come on, baby.” he leans in and gives you a long kiss that leaves your head spinning a little. “One time. And if you don’t like it, I promise I won’t ask again.” 

You let out a frustrated groan, because he has to know that he’s won at this point. That kiss was nothing but tactical. “Fine. Fine. But you can’t just kiss me like that every time you want something from me, it’s unfair.” 

“Yes, yes!” He squeezes you into him, kissing the top of your head over and over. “You won’t regret this.”

“I already am a little bit.” You grumble. 

That’s how you find yourself standing on the sidewalk with Oscar in front of you adjusting a helmet on your head. 

“This is making me claustrophobic,” you complain as he flips the visor up so he can see your face. 

“I’m just making sure you’re safe, baby.” When you furrow your eyebrows, he sighs and drops his hands to his sides. “If you really don’t want to do this, you don’t have to, okay?”

This makes you relent a little bit. “Osc, I’m sorry. I’m just scared. I don’t like motorcycles, like, at all.” You smile as best you can with the helmet on, hoping it goes to your eyes so he can see it. “I want to do this. You just… you really have to help me.” 

He nods, the tension in his shoulders dissipating. “Of course, honey. C’mon.”

He takes your hand and leads you over to his motorcycle. While you’re terrified just looking at it, you can’t deny that it’s absolutely beautiful. Streamlined and sleek, like he literally just bought it, even though you know he’d already had it for a year when you first met him. 

He looks almost the same as he did when you first met— all black getup, signature leather jacket, riding gloves, and of course, his strangely colorful helmet that doesn’t match the rest of him. His hair was long when you met him, and you still remember being absolutely starstruck when you saw his face for the first time. It had felt like everything went into slow motion when he took his helmet off, pushed his hair back, and instantly made eye contact with you from where you were just exiting the bookstore. 

Needless to say, you were done for. And now here you are, a year later, letting him help you onto the death machine. 

He never said you had to stop calling it (sorry, her) that if you were thinking it to yourself. 

“You okay? Comfy?” Oscar asks, reaching to adjust your helmet one more time. 

“Yup. Mhmm. Totally.” You nod, not even trying to sound convincing considering your heart is in your throat and he hasn’t even started the engine yet. 

“Great,” he kisses the top of your helmet and smiles at you cutely before climbing onto the bike so he’s seated in front of you. “Just hold on tight, okay baby? Like this.” 

He reaches behind him, grabbing your hands that had been anxiously scratching at the material of your jeans and pulling you forward so your arms are wrapped around his waist. He doesn’t have to say anything else– you’re quick to tighten your hold around him, fingers clutching at the material of his open jacket. You immediately feel your anxieties begin to dissipate as soon as you’re holding onto him, and you shift your whole body forward on the seat so your front is pressed as close as it can be to his back. When he lets out a quiet grunt, you release your grip a little. 

“I’m sorry! Am I holding you too tight?” “No, no,” he huffs out a laugh, patting your thigh. “Do whatever you need to do. Just warn me if you’re planning to suffocate me at all.”

“Listen, Piastri–” you begin, and he cuts you off by twisting around to look at you.

“Okay, I get it, I’m sorry.” He’s giggling now, and you let go of him to smack his helmet. “I’m done, I promise. As long as you feel safe, honey.”

“Come on, let’s go before I chicken out.” You say, quickly reassuming your hold.

It’s times like these where you appreciate just how buff your boyfriend is. He has something of a sleeper build, so one quick glance at him wouldn’t really reveal much, but when you’re pressed up against him like this, you can feel the muscles in his back and shoulders and his abs through his shirt when your hand slips past his jacket. He’s warm and solid against you, and that in itself is comforting enough that you don’t go flying off the seat when he starts up the engine and you instantly feel your whole body start to vibrate from the force of it.

“I’ll check in with you, okay?” He says over the loud rumbling. “Hit me in the head or something and I’ll pull over. Sound good?” Having him to hold on to is nice, but your throat is still dry thinking about all the dastardly possibilities that could occur when the bike starts moving, so you have to swallow a couple times in order for him to hear you over the engine. “Yeah, sounds good.”

Your heart falls out of your ass and lands on the pavement when he pulls out onto the road, the engine roaring as he accelerates. 

“God, please spare me,” you say out loud, grateful that Oscar can’t hear you over the engine. 

As soon as he gets onto the freeway, that’s when you realize just how much fun you’ve been missing out on.

It’s never been a secret to you that Oscar loves going fast. There have been plenty of occasions where you’ll drive somewhere, do whatever it is you have planned, and then you’ll turn to him and ask if he wants to drive home just to give him some peace of mind knowing that the journey back will be cut down by a few minutes at least. Being in the car is fun enough, but being on the back of his motorcycle is different.

You thought you’d be more scared. You’re terrified, sure, but even though you can feel the wind whipping against your clothes and you’re flying past cars on either side of the freeway, you’re holding on to Oscar, and you could easily do that forever. You’re quickly warming up to the concept of being his backpack, and you can feel yourself relaxing your death grip around him. This is actually kind of fun. Okay, really fun. You actually can’t believe you were so adamantly refusing to do this this whole time. 

Every so often, he reaches back with one hand and rubs your thigh, or holds one of your hands that is now tucked comfortably into his jacket pocket. You thought you’d be freaking out about him taking a hand off the handlebars, but he exudes confidence on the bike, and he never wavers no matter what he’s doing with his hands. 

He doesn’t go very far; the whole ride lasts maybe 20 minutes, but it feels like half that with how quick the bike is. Your arms ache from all the muscles in them working the whole time, and when he helps you off the back of the bike your legs feel like jello.

“How was it?” He asks, helping you pull the bulky helmet off your head. 

Your hair falls in your face and he brushes it away for you before you can even lift your hands. He cups your cheeks, a small smile on his face as he admires you.

“We are definitely doing that again.” 

His smile grows, and he places a sweet, adoring kiss on your lips. “I knew I finally found my backpack.” 

word count: 1,787

masterlist — join my tag list here!

note: writing this has me thinking up a whole biker au for multiple drivers... thank you for this gold mine of a request <33

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are always appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika

tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog @kimis-gloves @mia-rrrs @decafmickey @customsbyjcg-blog @bigheartsthings

[kinzhae]

"Too Late."

After a heated argument, Gojo Satoru pushes you away, becoming cold and indifferent. During a mission, you are severely injured by a curse, and Gojo arrives too late to save you. As you die in his arms, Gojo is forced to confront the painful consequences of his actions and the love he never expressed.

Warnings: Death, Emotional Abuse, Angst, Grief, Violence, Angst with no happy ending, mentions of death, ignoring.

This has been sitting on my draft but didn't know if I should post it or not.

Gojo x Reader.

You’d reached your breaking point with Satoru’s arrogance, his refusal to take anything seriously. After a mission where his antics nearly got a teammate killed, you confronted him.

"Why do you always act like nothing matters?" you shouted, your voice trembling with anger. "Do you think it’s funny when people almost die?!"

Gojo’s smirk was firmly in place, his hands stuffed casually in his pockets. "Relax, no one actually died. I was there, wasn’t I?"

"That’s not the point!" you snapped, tears burning in your eyes. "You can’t keep acting like this is all a game, Satoru. People care about you—I care about you—but you make it impossible to reach you!"

His smirk faltered for a split second before he recovered, his voice dropping to an icy tone. "If caring about me is so hard, maybe you should stop."

His words struck you like a physical blow, and you staggered back, staring at him in disbelief. "Is that what you really want?" you whispered, your voice cracking.

Gojo turned his head away, the faintest flicker of regret crossing his face before his usual arrogance took over. "I don’t have time for this," he said simply, walking away and leaving you behind.

From that moment, he froze you out completely. In the halls, he ignored your presence as if you didn’t exist. On missions, he stood back, arms crossed, watching you struggle.

"Having fun?" he’d call out mockingly as you fought against a curse, his tone laced with cruel amusement. "You said I don’t take things seriously. Show me how it’s done, then."

Each word was a dagger to your heart, but you refused to let him see you falter. You pushed yourself harder, determined to prove you didn’t need him.

But your body couldn’t keep up with your determination. On a solo mission, you found yourself overwhelmed by a curse far stronger than you’d anticipated. You fought with everything you had, but it wasn’t enough.

Gojo arrived just in time to see you collapse, your blood pooling around you as the curse disappeared into nothingness. For a moment, he stood frozen, his heart pounding in a way he hadn’t felt in years.

"Satoru," you whispered weakly, your vision blurring as he knelt beside you. "Guess you were right… You didn’t need me after all."

"Stop talking," he said, his voice uncharacteristically sharp as he pressed his hands to your wounds, his mind racing. He could heal himself, but not others. He had never learned. "Don’t… don’t do this. You’ll be fine. You’ll be fine."

Your hand weakly reached for his, and he grasped it tightly, his grip trembling. "You’ll be fine," you murmured, your voice fading. "You always are…"

For the first time in his life, Gojo Satoru felt powerless. As the light left your eyes, his entire world crumbled.

He sat there for hours, holding your lifeless body, his blindfold damp with tears. "You were wrong," he whispered hoarsely, his voice barely audible. "I needed you. I needed you more than anything."

But no one was there to hear his confession, and the silence that followed was louder than any scream.

[teatreeoilll]

ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna drabble-headcanon thingy part 2 | part I here w/c - 750 cw: manga spoilers (although I'm only on chapter 180 so if it kind of doesn't make sense with the rest I'm sorry!!)

ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna who wakes up a thousand years later, now trapped in a boy's body, unaware of the fact that you, too, had made a deal with the devil to satisfy your yet unmet need for revenge.

Hein Era

"You must be Kenjaku," you said, relief washing over your body. It has been three long years since you've decided to find the man, the journey wearing you out, turning you into an empty shell in tattered rags.

"May the traveler who knows my name introduce herself?" He proposed, not making the effort to turn around from his position over the cooking pot. The shabby hut you stood in and his mild demeanor hardly lived up to the reputation of the most vicious man to set foot in Japan in eons.

And so you do, with a deep bow and a mutter of your name, "I've come to an understanding that to kill the man I wish dead might take more than one lifetime," you proclaimed, "and I've been told you're the one to turn to."

Tokyo, 2018

ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna felt something strange the moment Itadori Yuji fell face-first into Tokyo Colony No. 1. However, he couldn't pinpoint what exactly it was, like the dull wistfulness of an old perfume. Itadori Yuji sensed it too, but had little time to muse over such things when he was too busy fighting to try to locate Higuruma Hiromi.

"Kogane, show me player Higuruma Hiromi," you order, looking at the information popping up, "his points are gone. Is he the one who changed the rule?" You don't wait for an answer before continuing, "It doesn't matter; he might still know something. Ikebukuro's close now."

You walk through the concrete and metal jungle; these people have built themselves miles upon miles of castles, you think, Sukuna probably enjoys watching them crumble.

When you approach the theater you were told Higuruma resides in, a boy walks out. As soon as he catches a glimpse of you, he halts, standing on guard on the other side of the road.

ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna has seen many faces, but yours was one that hadn't faded from his memory by the passing of time.

"I don't want to fight!" The boy exclaimed from across the road, but his shoulders were drawn back, fists curled near his pockets.

"I do not wish to fight either!" You shout back, thinking that another battle may wash off the remains of your strength. Besides, what good would it do to fight a young boy? Although only the look of his pink hair made your teeth clench and stomach tighten.

You watch the boy take a seat on the pavement, "Are you hurt?" You inquire, slowly drawing closer across the pavement.

"Just taking a breather!" He shouts, but you decide to approach regardless.

ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna who laughs. He howls like a maniac inside Yuji's head, sending strange vibrations throughout the boy's body.

"Are you alright?" You ask the boy, watching him nod as he gulps the water you handed him. The resemblance is striking, you think, but perhaps I'm just thinking too much of it.

"Thank you," he puts the empty water bottle by his side, "I'm sorry I drank all your water."

"It's nothing." You assure him, "Have you seen Higuruma here? I've a question for him."

"I don't think he's the kind to answer questions," Yuji reflected, getting up from the sidewalk.

"I won't leave him much of a choice." You asserted, watching the boy's doubtful expression, "Do you have any insight you may offer on his technique?"

"Well, I don't think I understand it, really, but.." Yuji starts explaining, watching your brows furrow as you nod along at his descriptions.

You thank him, parting curtly before turning away towards the theater.

"Wait!" Yuji exclaims behind you, "What's the question? Maybe I'll save you the trouble."

You doubt his words, but turn back to face him, "There's a man I'm looking to kill," you disclosed, "trust me, you'd want him dead too,” you chuckle, pausing for a moment, but deciding there's no harm in asking, "Sukuna, do you know where he is?"

Yuji freezes, his heartbeat quickening at the mention of the name, his wide eyes pointed straight at you.

"Didn't think so," you sigh.

ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna who pops out as a mouth carved in Yuji's cheek, causing you to jump back slightly at the bizarre sight while he taunted loudly;

"You're not going to tell her, brat?"

_

tag list: @saoirseirose, @marimeown, @http-dilflvr Thank you guys for the wonderful comments on part one, hope this one doesn't disappoint

[7ndipity]

Soft

Yoongi x Reader

Summary: Your first morning with Yoongi reminds you of just how soft he is.

Warnings: Suggestive, not proofread

A/N: This is nothing but tooth-rotting fluff, I don't even know where I was going with this, but it is what it is. And yes, I'm daydreaming about foggy October mornings in the middle of July, it's my escapism, leave me alone.

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

It was one of those quiet, early mornings when everything was still except for the occasional faded leaf drifting lazily past as you stared out the kitchen window, waiting for coffee to brew.

You didn't realize you weren't alone anymore until you felt a pair of arms wrapping around your middle, making you smile instantly as Yoongi pressed his face into your shoulder.

"Morning." He said, voice gravely from sleep.

"Morning, you're warm." You hummed contentedly.

"You're cold." He said as his hands found yours, fingers already chilled by the morning air.

"Come back to bed." He breathed against your neck, pressing a sleepy kiss to your skin as he spoke, lips lingering longer than usual.

"I didn't realize you were so needy in the mornings." You mused.

"Is that a problem?" He asked.

"Nope, I could stay right here quite happily all day." You said, leaning back against him to further your point, making him chuckle.

"That can be arranged." He hummed, digging his fingers into your sides a bit to make you squirm.

It was moments like this with him when you couldn't fathom how some people had the view that Yoongi was a cold or indifferent person, when in reality, nothing could be further from the truth.

When you had first started dating, there had definitely been a level of shyness that almost bordered on standoffish, but you had quickly come to understand that it came from a place caution due to his past, but you'd been more than willing to work through it and wait patiently as he let down those walls one by one.

You remember the first time he invited you to his studio, watching him work, mouth drawn into a pout of concentration as his finger flew across the keyboard.

"You're staring." He said, shooting a side-long glance at you.

"So?" You asked. "You're pretty."

He didn't respond, choosing to keep his eyes on the screen in front of him, but you didn't miss the faint dusting of pink that crept across his face, making you grow more confident, leaning over and planting a kiss on his cheek, making him splutter out a surprised laugh.

"What was that for?" He asked, flustered.

"Nothing, I just wanted to." You shrugged, turning back to your phone leaving him staring at you, bemused.

Little moments had built up over the course of a few weeks, fleeting touches and pecks here and there, with his moves always seeming to be slightly wary, as if you'd run away if he wasn't careful, though you had absolutely no intentions of going anywhere.

The breaking point had finally come last night as you'd sat together as he voiced his frustrations about a current project he was struggling to finish.

"What do you usually do when you can't write?" He'd asked you.

"Drink." You chuckled, gesturing to the glass in your hand, making him snort. "Think about you."

"Noo!" His face scrunched up, making you laugh.

When you quieted though, you noticed his eyes lingering on you. You don't know what it was exactly that you said or did, but as he stared at you, you could see the final wall crumble as he suddenly leaned in to claim your lips.

At first, it was so soft and sweet, you could've cried from the way he held you, like you were made of glass, but when you deepened it, winding a hand into the hair at the nape of his neck, you'd felt a tiny shiver ripple through him as he sucked in a shaky breath before caving entirely, pushing you back against the cushions as he chased after your lips.

"What?" You asked, looking up at him confusion.

Now, as you finally convinced him to venture out for a very late breakfast, you could see the subtle differences in his movements with and around you.

As the two of you walked along, he suddenly grabbed for your wrist, pulling you to a stop.

He just shook his head before leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. It only lasted a few seconds, but it was still more than enough to leave you dazed by the time he pulled away.

"What was that for?" You asked.

He shrugged. "Just wanted to." He said with a smirk before continuing down the road, still holding your hand, you biting back a grin as you trailed after him.

[piromina]

greetings! today I present:

ALL THE INFO WE HAVE, SO FAR, OF THE BEASTS' CORRUPTION ORDER

mystic flour cookie was NOT the first to corrupt. she was the third, the fourth, or the fifth.

This is backed up in her bio, specifically by this sentence: "...leading her to join forces with the fallen Beast Cookies."

This means that she was not the first to corrupt: there were others to join once she did eventually fall. And she wasn't the second; Beast Cookies is plural. This opens up the possibility of her being either third, fourth, or fifth.

and! mystic flour's reason for her corruption was simply the crowds fading away. she was no longer regarded as a saint.

this, I feel, is important because ... well, it's a strange reason to fall. it brings up questions: why did the crowds fade? could there be a reason for it, more specifically, their civilisations falling? their people perishing in war?

things that sound like what would be the cause of burning spice and silent salt's corruptions?

since we don't know that much about silent salt, burning spice is next on the list. here's his bio:

notice anything interesting?

if the image won't load for you, here's the gist of it:

POSSIBILITY: Burning Spice Cookie fell early, possibly being the first Virtue to fall.

Take this sentence from the bio, for example: "Burning Spice Cookie shaped the course of history, when history itself was young."

And now this one: "But as time marched on and kingdoms rose and fell in an endless cycle, he grew weary — bored by the monotony of it all."

Burning Spice corrupted because of time. He got bored. It was tiring, infuriating, an endless cycle of "born, grow, wither." He's the wielder of Change, he says, but nothing is changing.

And really, it would be quite early on in history — maybe decades, maybe centuries — when one would begin to get bored. War after war after war. Why should he help the Cookies ("...He was hailed as a hero, a leader who fought battle after battle...") when they all will crumble in the end, anyway? what's the point?

So, he corrupted. Started wars. Started killing. It was interesting, and it was fun, and it likely happened early on. Burning Spice wanted something to change, he says, and he could be the one that started the chain reaction of the Beast Cookies falling, the one who made the biggest change anyone would have anticipated.

there's not much else we know about the other Beast Cookies as of now. but we do know this:

If burning spice did corrupt first — and silent salt was second, and mystic flour, say, fourth. that all checks out with the order the beasts were shown corrupting in a certain trailer...

[doodles-in-sand]

"No, wait-

Please don't go-

----, please, you can't die-"

"don't leave me"

(this piece has a partner fic :) since tumblr HATES links though the fic is under the cut, and link to the ao3 ver will be in reblogs <3)

Kirisaki Shidou opens his eyes to a field of flowers.

It is calm, peaceful. In his hands is a bouquet of flowers, unlike any in the field. A rose, beautiful and bright red. A hyacinth, bluer than the sky above. Baby’s breath, small and innocent. And a bird of paradise, her favourite. 

A gust of wind, brushing past his head, like a familiar touch caressing his hair. He turns, and standing there, alive and well, is his family. His wife, his sons, exactly as he remembered them. Alive, healthy.

He watches as his sons run in the field like the children they are, and he feels not longing, but joy. He hears them laugh and yell joyfully. It feels familiar, domestic. 

They run past him, energetic as ever, in a childish game of tag. In their hands are flowers from the bouquet he holds. Baby’s breath and hyacinth, flowers that remind him of them, of their innocence, of their smiling faces.

And he looks at his wife, her hair billowing in the breeze. He can hear her laugh as she watches their sons run and play.

She turns to look at him, smiling, and in her hands is a rose like the one he holds. 

And for a moment, he, too, is alive once more. For a moment, he is the man who has lost nothing, who can smile genuinely. 

For a moment, he is not a murderer.

But then he takes a step towards them, and the moment fades. He blinks, and his sons are nowhere to be seen. In their place, where he last saw their smiling faces, last heard their youthful laughs, are patches of flowers, wilting and grey. 

The flowers that were in their hands lay wilted on the ground.

…their flowers in his hands wilt as well, crumbling in his hands.

The feeling that rises in his chest is disturbingly familiar.

He looks up at his wife, her figure now standing alone in the vast field of flowers. She is turned away from him, and she is still. So still he could almost mistake her for a statue, if not for her hair still flowing with the gentle breeze.

And for a moment, he is the man with everything at stake. For a moment, he is the desperate doctor who would do anything to save what's left of his family.

For a moment, he is a selfish gardener, willing to sacrifice it all for the sake of one.

He takes another step towards her.

Her figure blurs at the edges.

…wait, no, dont…

He takes another step. Flowers die at his feet. He does not notice.

She does not move.

Don't leave, please-

He takes another step, and then another, reaching out his hand. Flowers die with each step. He does not Care. He does not care about the flowers. He cares about his family

With each step, the rose in his hand withers. He quickens his pace, reaching his hand out in desperation.

Please, you have to live, you can’t die! 

At some point, she turns, when he is just close enough that his hand brushes against her hair, and she smiles.

Please don't leave me alone-

…And then she’s gone. Her figure dissolves into the breeze as strings of light blue, drifting away along with the petals of her rose.

He looks down at the bouquet in his hands.

Only one flower remains.

And like it, he, too, is alone.

He looks down at the trail of wilting flowers at his feet, and at the wilted remains of his family, and finally, he understands the weight of his actions. Finally, finally, he understands his hypocrisy.

And in that moment, he is a man who has lost everything. In that moment, he is the man who took and took and gained nothing. 

In that moment, he knows that he is a selfish, disgusting murderer.

…

Kirisaki Shidou opens his eyes to the ceiling of a prison.

It is a once-unfamiliar sight that he is beginning to become uncomfortably familiar with.

Sitting up from his bed, he presses his palms into his eyes, choking back a sob, trying and trying to rid his mind of his dream. Trying to rid it of the memories of his murder, and of its memories of what he's lost.

…In the end, he only really succeeds in making his gloves wet.

He stands up, ensuring that his eyes are dry before changing out his gloves for a new pair. He takes a deep breath, before setting himself to work. There's no time for grieving, here. There are people who need medical attention. The prisoners’ injuries were of more importance.

…besides, he doesn’t deserve to grieve. To grieve is to make peace, to come to terms. That would be too good for a murderer like him

[babylacedream]

cause youre my-y-y

i always find myself back to you જ part 7 of ?

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8

pairing: yandere!bucky barnes x f! reincarnated autistic reader

warning: struggling with bucky's death, grief, yandere themes, anxiety, obsessed!bucky, violence, angsty, separation anxiety

summary: you came down with a cold and bucky is taking care of you. you dream of your first kiss with bucky.

notes: inspired by pinkpantheress unreleased song called cuz you're my*, I recommend listening.

please remember i am autistic, so i will be writing my personal experience with my autism. thanks!

sorry for edging you <3 ur giving lads mc vibes ♡

I want You just the way you are The lengths that I have gone To give you everything you want 'Cause you're my-y-y Reason I need to breathe The one I need to keep So I can keep you dear and close to me 'Cause you're my-y-y

That moment under the umbrella, the rain pouring, that raw outburst of yours, was neither your hallucination nor a dream. It was real. Very real.

But you felt sick. You almost forgot that getting sick in this body is ruthless to you.

You pressed your hands against his chest, trying to ground yourself, "I don't feel good." You stumbled before Bucky steadied you.

You needed to say something to him before you fainted, "You can't leave me again..." The anguish in your voice spoke volumes to him.

You clenched your eyes shut, shaking your head, trying to lessen the throbbing pain in your head. You whimpered, peering up at him. "I... won't forgive you if you leave me again."

Then, you collapsed in his arms.

You were fast asleep, dreaming of that time when you were nineteen. Fresh out of high school with Bucky. You recently saw a couple kissing in a corner.

It sparked unwanted feelings and thoughts. Or just feelings and thoughts you hid.

At this point, you were going to die as a chaste woman. Other girls your age already had children and a husband. You were nineteen and still no first kiss, nothing.

"Kiss me." You were straightforward with Bucky. You had dragged him behind the church you attended with your families.

Bucky coughed, looking shocked at those words that came out of your mouth. "Where did this come from?"

"Please," you beseech him as you inch yourself close to him.

"No." A quick response as he looked away from you.

"Why?" You followed his gaze.

"Because you don’t know what you're asking for."

You backed a bit, flustered that he wasn't taking this seriously. "I do."

"You do?" He was messing with you.

You nodded. "Yes, I’d rather not die without getting my first kiss." He chuckled, shaking his head.

"James!" You knew he hated being called that, especially from you, "Come on, please!" You whined, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards you.

Bucky knows he shouldn't spoil you, but he can't help but give in to your request, especially when you're begging so.

After all, this would be his first kiss, too. And the lengths he's gone to keep himself under control were starting to crumble.

You were his need to breathe; his very existence was embedded in you. He couldn't resist you any longer.

Bucky looked at you, seeing you biting your lips and the way your fidgety fingers were playing with his fingers with such troubling resolve. Bucky sighed, seeing how determined you are.

"Don't regret this later."

That memory had faded away before you got the chance to feel his lips against yours once again.

As your eyes fluttered open, your throat hurt, your nose stuffed, you had a cold. You were in bed with a drenched towel on your forehead.

You felt someone's hand wrapped around yours. You slowly turned your head to see the same Bucky you saw in your dream.

"Bucky?!"

You abruptly sat up, the towel falling off your forehead onto your lap, numb to the pain in your head from getting up so quickly.

It looked like your Bucky, but it would soon morph into The Winter Soldier. As you perceived you were hallucinating again, the painful throb in your head revealed itself. You were almost about to cry until he gently laid you back into the bed, letting you sleep yet again.

"You asked me to never leave you, so," he tightened his hand around yours. "I never left."

You dreamt yet again of Bucky, one where you were sick, and your parents asked Bucky if he could take care of you while they were on vacation.

"Ew, I don't want to drink that crap!" Bucky was the enemy now, with the most disgusting and most vile medicine in his hand. He held it to your lips, forcing you to take it.

"Sorry, doll, but I'm in charge here."

You coughed while Bucky rubbed your back as you cringed from the taste in your mouth.

"See? Wasn't all that bad."

"Easy for you to say." You pouted at how calm and collected he looked, almost like that kiss you shared with him wasn't all that big of a deal.

"Be honest, did you already kiss someone before?"

"No, doll. You were my first, as was yours." His attention was on tucking you in with your comfy blankets.

You eyed him suspiciously, "I find that hard to believe, that kiss felt..."

"Felt what?" He smirked, looking at you now.

"It felt skilled, too skilled."

"Maybe I'm a natural," he paused. "Don't believe me? We can try again." Bucky edged close to you, determined to convince you.

"Wait," you stopped him with those soft hands of yours, "I'm sick, remember?"

"I don't mind."

The dream ended and you woke up feeling slightly better. Bucky had his eyes closed, but you know better that he was not sleeping.

You sat up on the bed, studying him before speaking. "Where were you?" You watched as he opened his eyes slowly and adjusted his gaze onto you.

"Taking care of some vermins," Bucky spoke coldly.

"Vermins?" You pondered, "HYDRA?" He nodded.

"Uh, why would you do that?"

Isn’t it rule number one to not go back to HYDRA, so they won’t control you? Wait, is he being controlled right now? No, if he was, he should’ve killed you that night.

"They touched you."

Touched you, when? Oh, it must have been when you were in the bathroom. But, you didn’t care about that. You were so confused. How was he able to resist?

"Um, could you tell me exactly what you did to them?"

Bucky vividly and graphically explained what he did to them. Every single detail. He didn't leave anything out. To the T.

They touched you so he gave them times worse than that bump you felt on your shoulder. So much worse.

That's why he left you, to rid of those bastards who were assigned to take glances at you.

Bucky explained to you that because he's been with you this whole time, his trigger words, and the brainwashing has lessened. But his tendencies as The Winter Soldier never left.

"Do you remember anything from your past?"

"You."

You were about to deny it, but it's no use. You already confirmed it that night, and now, the cat is out of the bag.

Though, it's not like he needed that confirmation.

"So, what happens now?"

Bucky explained that he disposed of most of them, but a few that were still in pursuit of him and you. In truth, he didn't want to be apart from you this long. "I stay by your side until I know you're safe—"

You interrupted him, "And then what, you'll leave again?" You furrowed your brows, reaching out and pulling him close, holding onto his jacket, "I told you that night that you can't leave me now that you're back in my life."

Bucky chuckled, "You didn't let me finish." He paused, with his metal hand grabbing your hand that was holding onto his jacket for dear life, and placed a gentle kiss on your palm.

"After I know harm is out of your way. Then, I can keep you dear and close to me."

[dragongirlie56]

05- Solace in Lullabies

My submission for Zelinktines! (and a one shot i’ve been wanting to write for a while now lol)

I chose prompt 2: Singing!

I wanted to only do 500 word drabble…. but I went to 2,000 words. I’m not mad about it.

@zelinktines

Thanks for hosting this! It’s such a cute idea!!

Ship: Zelink BOTW

Angst and fluff balance!

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Moonlight lit the back of Link's tunic. The faint light cast his weak shadow across the stone. He stood at the edge of the spring with his gaze toward the arch entrance. The legendary sword resting in his grip, the tip of his blade grazing the ancient grounds. His cerulean eyes scanned for any ounce of danger that threatened to push past him.

Flurries of snow descended from above, landing in his dirty blonde locks and his sleeves. He couldn’t deny that it was peaceful up on Mount Lanayru, however, peace was far from the young hero’s mind. He could never ease his mind when Zelda was troubled, especially when they visited the springs.

Zelda was immersed waist-deep in the freezing cold water; her once recited prayers shifted into anguished pleas. The bitter heartache laced in her voice was more than enough for him to tell she was reaching her limit.

It tore his heart in every direction.

“Curse you.” His ears twitched slightly at the sound of water splashing and his heart stopped. She didn’t fall in did she? Right as he turned to check she spoke again, easing his initial panic. ”Every single day I pray and every single day you show no signs in return! I’ve been doing this all my life. I had no childhood just so I could pray to you for some stupid powers that don’t seem to work! Do you really wish for Hyrule to crumble at the hands of that monster? Do you want me to fail so terribly that you’d risk the world? Your people? My friends who are risking their lives? My-“ She choked on a sob. “Are you even there?”

Link closed his eyes, a sorrowful sigh escaping him. The goddess was testing his patience. Was she just like the rest of the skeptics parading around Hyrule who doubted the young princess, including the king himself? His fists tensed around the hilt of his sword… some goddess she was and some father the king claimed to be.

A spike of anger stabbed his gut. Screw Hylia, screw Ganon, screw the faithless, and screw the king. If it wouldn’t result in exile, Link would give the King of Hyrule a piece of his mind.

“What is wrong with me?”

The words pierced him like a lynel spear, tearing him from his thoughts and making his eyes widen. Nothing! Nothing’s wrong with you! He wanted to scream out but his throat went dry. Dry with his oath to the royal guard and his appointed position… he was only her protector. But doesn’t being her protector also permit him to support her and protect her emotionally? The thought made him furrow his brows.

“Tell me! Am I really that worthless? Am I not worthy enough to wield Hylia’s great power?”

Her last cry cut the tether holding him down in place. He couldn’t stand by. Not anymore. The blonde set his sword down and descended the stone staircase.

Ice water surrounded him and he sucked in a sharp breath as he waded through the spring. How did she do this all the time?

“Link.” His pointed ears caught her whisper as she turned around. Her wide, green eyes locked onto his soft, blue ones as they reached for each other at the same time. Her legs gave out as she stepped toward him but Link was quick to wrap an arm under her knees and pull her against him.

Her lips were as blue as the fading sky and her face was paler than the color of snow.

I knew I should have pulled her out sooner. Link gritted his teeth as he internally kicked himself. If she developed hypothermia he’d never forgive himself.

A sob racked its way up her throat and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Link, I-I’m sorry.” She wiped away a stream of tears with her palm. “I feel nothing-”

The knight shook his head, tightening his arms around her shivering form.

She worked so hard, he saw that. Every minute, every day, every hour. She was so dedicated to helping her people, that was what mattered. His chest ached… he wished he could tell her he disagreed with her father’s harsh remarks on her and her training. He wanted to tell her that she was more than a princess to him.

That he loved her.

The thought sent his heart in a frantic spiral. He had broken the biggest rule of all. He had taken a hammer and shattered it with little regret—if any at all.

‘Don’t have any personal relations with the princess, it’s strictly professional. For your only duty is to protect her. It is treason otherwise.’ His captain’s words echoed through his ears. In other words, he warned not to fall for the princess.

But Link didn’t just fall, he stumbled into the inevitable chasm and hit the ground rolling. Which… how could he not? There had to be some exception to that rule because lust wasn’t his driving force, no, he was undoubtedly and truly in love with her.

His father would be ashamed of him—-well the knight side of his father anyway. His captain would absolutely be ashamed of him. Though, Link couldn’t find it in him to care.

He’d tell her, but first he had to make sure she didn’t freeze to death.

Link set her down by the tent he had assembled prior to Zelda’s training. He rummaged through his bag before he handed her a set of her warm winter clothes, raising his eyebrows in a silent question.

She sniffled and nodded once. A few wet strands of gold falling into her defeated eyes. He fought the urge to brush it behind her pointed ears.

While she changed, Link picked up his pile of wood to create a makeshift fire. He pulled out a piece of flint from his bag and struck a stray rock against it, creating a spark that fueled the flames.

He tossed a few more sticks in the fire.

”Where should I…?” Link turned toward Zelda’s voice, his eyes softening upon meeting her own. She was standing with her ceremonial dress in her hands; Water droplets dripped from its ruffled edges.

He took the dress from her grasp and gestured toward the orange flames.

”The fire…” he murmured.

”Oh yes, of course. Thank you.”

Link nodded as he laid the dress on the stone—out of reach from the falling snow. He reached into his bag once more, grabbing a spare set of his clothes. He found a secluded area and peeled his tunic off his torso.

The freezing air pierced his skin, making him wince. He seriously didn’t understand how Zelda had done this the last four nights. He would have a word with the king, this wasn’t safe at all.

If he had a daughter, he’d never treat her the way Rhoam treated Zelda and he certainly wouldn’t force her train relentlessly in the frozen mountain with no support or praise. No, if he had kids they would be supported to no end.

Link fastened his spare pair of boots and in little to no time he returned to the camp.

His blue eyes flicked to Zelda who sat on one of the stones near the fire. Color had returned to her face and her lips were back to its pink tint. Her eyes were locked on the dancing flames and her brows were scrunched together.

Oh how badly he desired to see an ounce of her smile. He missed it. Terribly. But with the calamity looming near and the weight of their burdens nearly crushing them, the rarity of the emerald eyed blonde cracking a smile had multiplied tenfold.

Link swallowed and cleared his throat before speaking. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth… voicing his thoughts still wasn’t his strong suit but he’d do it for her.

“Princess. There’s nothing wrong with you,” he finally spoke, wrapping a wool blanket around her shoulders. His forearms rested on his knees as he stared at her.

A heavy sigh escaped her. “Link.” She shook her head, averting his gaze. She let out a sniffle before continuing. “I fear I won’t be able to help you when… when the time comes and you’ll- you’ll die because I didn’t train hard enough. All the great princesses before me were able to unlock it! I’m the only one who-“ She grimaced. “Who hasn’t.” More sniffles. “So there has to be only one explanation. There must be something wrong with…”

His thumb brushed her tears away. “There’s nothing wrong with you,” he repeated, allowing his hand to linger for a few more seconds.

New tears shimmered in her viridescent gaze. ”You really believe that?”

He nodded, though he noticed her gaze drop and the subtle frown on her lips. She was still unsure or she wasn’t satisfied with his answer.

Link moved to sit next to her. His arm brushed against hers, making his heart flutter. He cleared his throat as he leaned back against the wall.

“Yes, Zelda, I really believe it…. I believe in you. And even if your powers don’t come, we’ll be okay. We’ll find another way.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “Really.”

Their eyes met and she raised her eyebrows as her lips twitched into a smile. The blonde knight returned it; her smiles were extremely contagious… to him at least.

“Thank you Link.”

He gave her a nod before shifting his gaze to the flickering flames. They sat in a peaceful silence until Zelda rested her head on his shoulder. Link’s muscles tensed as her hair brushed against his cheek.

“Sorry- I hope this is okay.”

Link nodded—-the only response he could give at the moment. He really, really hoped she couldn’t hear how fast his heart was beating.

After a few moments she shifted and she shivered, pulling the blanket tighter around her.

“Are you uncomfortable?” He found himself asking.

“What?” She pulled away to look at him. “No- I’m fine. It’s just cold.” She shivered again and Link hesitantly opened his arms as he averted her emerald gaze.

Seconds seemed like minutes. Blood rushed to Link’s ears.

Why did I do that? I’m crossing a line-

Zelda wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head on his chest, sending every blood cell to his head.

Oh what am I doing?

He battled his thoughts, insisting he was only protecting her from the harsh cold. Because that's all it had to be. Nothing more nothing less.

“I’m thinking about too many things… I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep,” she murmured.

“You need your strength.”

She let out an airy chuckle. “I guess…. When do you sleep though? I never see you sleep.” Link shook his head. Always the curious one.

“Please try,” he responded to which Zelda sighed.

“Fine.”

Sleep wasn’t something Link had often, even when he was younger. He remembered his mother would check on him and his sister, Aryll, to make sure they were asleep. She always found him wide awake, looking out the window into the starry night sky.

She’d ask him ‘what’s wrong’ and he’d say ‘I can’t sleep’. She’d then sit on his neatly kept bed and say, ‘You get this from your father.’

Link always found that funny, he never believed it because his old man always snored at this time of night and slept until the birds stopped chirping. No way he could’ve had trouble sleeping at Link’s age.

His mom would pat his bed, tuck him in, and she’d start to sing. There were no words to the song, only the melody. As a child, this never failed to ease him into a peaceful slumber. So maybe…

Link closed his eyes and started to hum. His voice was soft as he sang the lullaby, the one that shared Zelda’s name. It was actually his favorite.

His hum carried in the slight breeze. He wished there was a way to stop time so they could stay in this moment forever without a worry in the world.

Zelda’s breaths slowed and her grip on his waist eventually loosened as the sweet melody came to an end.

Link opened his eyes and let his gaze drop to the sleeping princess.

He’d protect her with his dying breath, that was a promise.

The knight leaned down to lightly kiss the top of her blonde hair as if to seal the vow.

///////////////////////////////////////////////

Zelink masterlist

[ifitmeanslosingyouthenno]

pls more of the prostitution au 🙏 I wanna see more of dadmack! but also.. how would andrew react?

sorry i never answered lol

on dadmack

i feel like he'd feel sooo protective over neil, because in his eyes this is a CHILD, neil is a child just barely past the age of 18 who had to do the unthinkable in order to survive because the cops didn't think he was worth more, but oh, neil is worth so much more than wymack could even imagine to give him

but in the start, he probably keeps his distance, bc neil had to get close and personal with many older men, but the fear of them never really went away, he just dissociated through the entire experience, pretended he wasn't real to begin with, and if anything he gained more bad experiences with older men to make him afraid of them

so wymack keeps his distance, tries not to spook him, keeps in clinical and impersonal

it only lasts like 2 days or something tho

because yeah, neil's clothing style was... tight, and yeah maybe a little too much on the revealing side, but like that could be his aesthetic

except one night when neil leaves his apartment's bathroom in shorts too short to be called anything but boxers, a tank top that rides too high on his belly and reveals the slightest bit of scars, and black eyeliner and mascara

and wymacks blood turns so cold so fast he wonders if hes dead

"where the hell do you think you're going?"

and neil, scared, anxious and just fucking exhausted, tries and fails to hide his wince, before just saying, "work"

wymack is too fucking shocked to even comprehend what the fuck is happening right now

like he *knew* that neil said he was a prostitute, but knowing and actually fucking understanding it and realizing that its fucking true are two different things

"dont worry, i wont bring anyone here, im going to find somewhere else to go"

and that kickstarts wymack's entire system

"you're not going out josten"

neil frowns, genuine confusion in his eyes, before they widen and just like that there's tension in his shoulders, there's something like regret and resignation and hurt, before all that completely fades in favor of a little smirk settling in place, smile playful and eyes sparkly and he's taking confident steps in wymack's direction

"i can stay if you want coach, i can do whatever you want"

and really wymack thought he was ready for anything, that at this point no story his foxes told him or nothing his foxes did would surprise him or take him aback or make him falter

but understanding neil's words and actions and the way he's raising his hand as if to caress wymack's shoulder makes him falter, makes him move so fast from neil and makes him so fucking *furious*

"no" is the only thing he says, but there’s so much rage, so much pain, so much grief in his soul, and the word comes out angry and violent in something that resembles a growl

because how could he not be fucking furious? how could he not feel anything but anger at the fact that this 18 year old child thinks he has to offer sex he obviously doesn't fucking want in order to survive? how does he not feel anything but rage at the idea of this 18 year old child, one of his fucking foxes, about to go out to find a man willing to pay him to treat him like a fucking object just to be able to survive?

neil's entire mask crumbles as he flinches away from him, fear visible in his eyes and in his shaking hands and shoulders

how is wymack supposed to feel anything but anger at seeing his fox in this situation?

his rage doesn't fade, doesn't magically disappear, but he knows its not towards neil, knows its not fair for neil, who must already be feeling so many things, to think wymack is angry at him

softer now, he says again, "no, neil, dont ever think i will ever ask of you anything like that, i am your coach, i will never ask of you anything that isn't related to exy, i promise i will never take from you or hurt you, i will never- just no neil, tell me you understand"

neil wont look him in the eyes, and his hands are still shaking, but ever so softly, he whispers, "i understand coach"

and it pulls at the strings in his heart, in ways only his foxes are able to, but he makes himself keep going

"good, and i need you to know you dont need to keep doing any of this anymore, you don't- this doesn't have to keep happening"

this time neil does look up at him, once again confusion bright in his eyes, frown in place

"i need the money coach, i understand if you dont want- i understand, but i still need the money, i can't just stop working"

and wymack is not an affectionate man, but it takes everything in him not to grab neil close and never let him go

"let me take care of the expenses, neil, you dont have to keep doing this anymore, you worry about exy, worry about kevin, let me worry about expenses"

and neil? neil has no idea of how to accept that

"i cant let you do that, i can't- i need to have my own money, i, i *can't* just let you do that, no-"

"neil, do you enjoy your work?"

that pulls him up short

like genuinely baffled, flabbergasted, shocked

not only because of the bluntness of the question, not because of the lack of judgement in wymacks voice, not when thats just intrinsically wymack

what shocks him is the fact that he can't make himself answer fast enough

because does he? no matter how much he wants to lie to himself, to convince himself it isn't a bad fucking job, that he can get through this and keep doing it, that he doesn't mind the ickiness, the roughness, the soreness, the worthlessness, the desperation

no matter what lies he feeds himself, he never wanted this, he did what he had to do to survive, he was helpless, he chose this but did he?

did he chose this when he couldn't find another choice?

he didn't want to choose this, why would he choose to be degraded and beat up and held down and abused??

he never wanted this

"no"

his voice is raspy, his throat hurts in that way it does when he's trying not to cry

he used to be better at not crying, at keeping the feelings at bay

the last few months have left him unraveled

he wonders if he looks as devastated as he feels, if the pain and grief and loss is written on his face

he wonders if he looks as small as he feels

ironic given that he hasn't ever felt like a kid

wymack's face doesn't betray him, not like neil thinks his face betrays him

"so it's settled", his voice doesn't betray him either, "you're not going out anymore"

for a moment, he wants to fight him over it again, he doesn't want to rely on coach, he doesn't want to depend on him

but

but

"okay?"

wymack must sense his hesitation, but at the same time, neil can feel his resolve falling

"let me help you neil"

he doesn't want to rely on anyone, but how can he not believe wymack? how can he not believe those pain filled eyes? how can he not believe his honesty?

"okay"

wymack's shoulders fall, the tension leaving him slowly

somehow, neil can feel the tension ease out of him as well

he feels shaky, hollow, too vulnerable for his own good, and when wymack throws him a tight lipped smile, he cant help but look away

"how about i order some takeout huh? how does pizza sound?"

neil tries to smile back, and it feels more like a grimace, but its got to be something right?

he looks down at himself, suddenly self conscious of the fish net tights and booty shorts and crop top

out of nowhere, wymack hands him a jacket, slowly and cautiously and neil feels like an abused dog, but he takes the oversized garment from wymack's outstretched hand

it covers him down to his thighs, and it shouldn't matter, but it warms neil up in ways that he doesn't even understand

"pizza sounds good coach"

sorry i got carried away lmao Andrew's reaction is going to have to be another post (eventually lol)

[gravityglitch-blog]

"Falling To You"

Uzi hadn't known what to expect when she had jumped into the pit at the heart of the old cathedral.

Maybe to fall for hours before being dashed to pieces in jagged darkness.

Tumbling out into the midst of outer space was the last thing on her mind.

Floating in stardust, a planet in fiery death throes before her, she wondered if any of this was real. It was nothing like what she'd heard of in school (though now she wished she'd paid more attention.) For one thing, she could breathe. She could still hear her heart thrumming away inside her. Wasn't space supposed to be an airless eternity where no one could hear you scream? To test her theory, Uzi shouted an expletive at the top of her voice, a word that would have made her dad blue-screen on the spot if he'd heard her. The sound echoed into the void, slowly fading away. Well then, not outer space as she knew it. Another cruel illusion of the Solver? She didn't have time to think about it, because another scream cut the silence. Some distance away, there was a burst of light, like a door opening and closing quickly.

And then N was there, spinning head over feet and struggling to steady himself. He was clutching a red canister to his chest as though life depended on it.

"N?!" His gaze locked on her at once, relief washing away the fear and confusion on his face. "Uzi!" "What are you doing here?" she demanded. "The whole point of this was so you could escape! Her words carried an edge of anger, but they didn't cut. She was too happy to see him.

She'd thought she would never see him again.

Wrestling with the canister in his arms, N answered, "I don't want to escape! I want you!" Finally she recognized what the object was: a fire extinguisher. He pulled the trigger and used the ensuing burst as a makeshift jet, extending his wings to help with power and direction, guiding himself towards her. The madness of the last few days crashed into her, releasing a peal of near-crazed giggling. "What are you even doing?" "I saw it in a movie once!" Uzi swiped her hands over her visor, hoping to hide the tears that had begun to glow in her eyes. "You were supposed to get away! You were supposed to be safe!" Gliding ever closer, N cried out, "I'm not losing you!" Uzi tried to kick and propel herself forward, as though she were swimming, but only managed to throw herself into a dizzying spiral.

The universe stopped whirling as soon as N got near enough to scoop her into his arms.

All of the barriers shielding her heart crumbled. She wrapped herself around him and began scattering kisses and heartfelt insults all over his face.

"You are so stupid!" (kiss) "So, so stupid!" (kiss) "Why?" (kiss) "Why did you do this?"

Tightening his embrace, making no effort to hide his own smile or tears, N said softly, "We made a promise, remember? No matter what, we would stick together." Uzi rested her forehead against his, letting her hands drift through his hair and over his shoulders to assure herself that he was real. Her question came out as a tired whisper. "What will happen now?" "It doesn't matter," N said, running his thumb along the edge of her cheek. "Whatever it is, we'll take it on...you and me."

[rosemaidenvixen]

Between Daylight and Darkness

Chapter 10

<Previous Next>

Ao3

Barbara shifted onto her other foot, there was a dented beer can to her right and a crumbled up fast food wrapper to her left. Lit under the sickly yellow glow of streetlights, natural light faded near to nothing, the sun having set twenty minutes ago.

“Are you kids sure this is the right spot?”

“Yep,” Toby grinned at her, stepping up to pat the concrete wall ahead of them “This is the place. Behind this wall lies a world of magic and wonder beyond your wildest dreams,”

A truck rumbled the bridge overhead, Barbara bit her lip, keenly aware of Toby ahead of her and Jim and the girls behind her, and tried not to look as skeptical as she felt.

It wasn’t as if she doubted the kids, not at all, she knew they were all being very sincere. It was just that their story was a bit…unbelievable now that she was actually here standing under the bridge in front of a concrete wall surrounded by rubble and litter. But given the things she'd lived with over the last decade she of all people should keep an open mind.

“Oh! There is one more thing you should know,”

She turned towards Jim “What is it?”

He gave her an awkward smile, tusks on full display, ompletely covered in shining silver armor from the neck down. She'd asked about his choice to go down wearing something so...conspicuous, but he'd brushed her off with a quick 'when in Rome'. This didn't strike her as the full truth, but it was neither the time nor the place to push it.

“Well you see...when it comes to…trolls, I’m uh…I’m one of the little guys,”

She looked up at him with a start. Little guys? What did he mean by–

A soft crackling pulled her attention back to the wall, a glowing arch appearing in the concrete right before her eyes, blasting away all her doubts. The gray stone crumbled away from the blue arc, creating an entrance where none existed before, falling back to reveal–

Barbara staggered back on reflex, a scream rose up in the back of her throat, though thankfully she stopped herself before it could escape. But a large part of her still itched to run as fast and far as she could.

A massive creature– a troll, stepped through the arch. He had had horns and stony skin just like Jim, but that was were the similarities ended. This creature lumbered forward leaning on his hands like a gorilla, powerful arms wide as tree trunks. He had to be nine- ten feet tall standing upright. As it was he towered over all of them, Jim included. The troll wore no clothes but had a massive, mossy mane running down his back, growing into his beard and covering his chest as well. Ears were long and floppy, a dark snout with vertical slit nostrils in place of his nose. But despite his...disconcerting size, the troll's expression was gentle. Green eyes radiating calm as he stepped clear of the arch, bending his arms to lean down to look at them something closer to eye to eye.

“Welcome back,” he rumbled in a low, gravely voice.

Toby stepped up to the troll without hesitation, giving Barbara heart palpitations “Good to be back big guy,”

Meanwhile Barbara was still trying to figure out how to make her voice work, neck craning from looking up at the troll. Who it should be noted, was bending down.

So this was what Jim meant by ‘little guy’.

“Mom?” a gentle tap on her shoulder pulled her back down to earth “You ok?”

“Y– yes I’m fine,”

The big troll let out a rumble, turning and inclining his head towards the still glowing archway “Come, AAARRRGGHH will show,”

Still reeling, and trying to get her heart rate back into the resting range, Barbara let out a small cough to get the troll's attention “Umm… sorry but what’s an Arrrgh?”

The troll raised a finger to point towards himself “AAARRRGGHH is AAARRRGGHH,”

So it looked like this…troll’s name was AAARRRGGHH, that made as much sense as everything else.

“Well thanks for the showing us the way AAARRRGGHH,” Darci strolled into the cave like this was entirely normal, the others following after a few moments later.

Barbara swallowed hard, fought back thousands of years of instinct in the back of her mind screaming at her to take the kids and flee far away from stone creatures and dark caves back to where there was light and crowds, and picked up her feet, following them into the unknown. She couldn't quite smother the flinch when the cave door reassembled behind her, sealing the exit.

Oh god what was she doing, there was no way out and no one knew where they were. She was one woman alone against an unfathomable number of trolls, and from the look of them one would be enough to overpower her with no effort at all. She needed to get out now, grab the kids, find the nearest exit, run before--

Barbara stopped in her tracks, netting her hands together and pressing them over her stomach, forcing her breathing to stay even. She ran through the various symptoms and stages of organ failure in her head until her breath was under control. Her heart was still speeding but it was no longer galloping. Her moment of panic had been brief enough the others hadn't noticed, trailing only a few feet behind them.

She needed to focus, even if her panic was justified this was the absolute last place to lose her head. And she shouldn't let her preconceived biases color her perception. The...people here had helped the kids, given them shelter and protected them from the troll that had tried to harm them.

So they were gigantic and made of rock, so what? Jim was the same and he was one of the sweetest, most harmless people she knew. Heck, for all she knew trolls considered them scary.

Uh oh, she'd fallen too far behind. A large gap had formed between her and the rest of the group, Jim had stopped and turned and was staring after her concerned, Darci had noticed and was now doing the same. It was only a matter of time until the rest of the kids took notice of her hesitation, then AAARRRGGHH surely would.

Barbara flashed Jim the most reassuring smile she could manage and hurried to catch up with them. Jim and Darci didn't quite look convinced, but they turned back and kept moving. The seven of them heading deeper into the earth.

But even though they were underground it wasn’t dark, a cool blue glow came from ahead. Following AAARRRGGHH they approached the source of the light. A glowing crystal staircase carved into the bedrock leading down into depths unknown.

Barbara was not thrilled at the idea of going even deeper underground than they already were, but AAARRRGGHH had already started to descend, the kids right behind him. And with how steep the stairs were if she didn’t close the distance between them now she’d end up falling behind.

And as much as she did not want to go down there, the thought of abandoning the kids to the unknown was even less appealing.

Acutely aware of the pounding of her heart, Barbara took a deep breath, then lowered her foot to the first step.

The descent wasn’t an easy one, the stairs were steep and so far apart she had to tread carefully to avoid slipping and twisting a leg. They were clearly made with larger creatures in mind. And now matter which angle she twisted and peeked at, she couldn't see how far down they went.

She snuck another glance at AAARRRGGHH, who was traversing the stairs with no trouble. Only this time she noticed something she'd overlooked before. AAARRRGGHH's feet and legs were tiny. Both compared to her own and in proportion with the rest of his body. From head to toe his legs only made up one third of his body length, maybe less. Compared to his arms they were even tinier. His feet were an unusual shape to, small and rounded with only three visible toes.

This made sense with his gorilla-like gait and posture, but it was a radical difference from Jim's own anatomy. While Jim did have the horns, tusks, and stone skin this other troll did, his proportions were human, or at least similar enough that Barbara had never noticed a difference.

Come to think of it there were other differences, AAARRRGGHH's ears, the shape and placement of his...snout she supposed, the markings on his chest and arms, she hadn't been able to get a good look at his hands but AAARRRGGHH's seemed to have fewer fingers. And it was stumpy but he had a small tail as well.

Jim was human shaped with stone skin, horns, and tusks. But AAARRRGGHH was something else entirely. Was Jim's shape the 'norm' for trolls or was AAARRRGGHH's? Or were trolls so varied in their body types that they didn't have a norm as she would understand it?

Barbara was so caught up in speculative anatomy that it came as a surprise when they reached the bottom of the stairs, a large arch ahead of them with more light pouring in.

AAARRRGGHH’s silhouette blocked off most of the entryway, preventing her from seeing what lay ahead “Stay close,” he rumbled, heading through into the beyond.

She and the kids stepped after him, trading a narrow stone cavern for a much more open space. Barbara blinking in the sudden brightness, as her vision cleared shock slowed her footsteps, until Barbara was standing there frozen, gaping at the sight unfolding in front of her.

When the kids had told her about an underground city the first image that popped into her mind was of homeless encampments in abandoned subway tunnels that she remembered watching on the news as a kid. Given that they’d also said it was a ‘magical’ underground city, she knew the reality was probably a bit more polished than her knee jerk impression.

But nothing her imagination could have dreamed up could have ever prepared her for what laid ahead of her.

They were standing in an absolutely massive cavern, so large that she felt a little exposed despite being underground, an entire metropolis sprawled out before them. The city had been carved and built from the bedrock of the cavern itself. Stone dwellings stacked up in hive like clusters of varying sizes, some clinging to the the sides of the cavern wall itself, only discernible by the glow of their windows in the distance. The entire cavern was alight with color, blue and purple crystals clinging to the walls and scattered between buildings, filling the space with cool light. Smaller, paler crystals stood atop narrow stone columns and tucked into the corners of buildings like crystalline streetlights. Which was probably exactly what they were. Rock and crystal where overwhelmingly dominant, but a second glance revealed pops of fabric and wood. A wheelbarrow, a purple tent, stacks of baskets and multicolored awnings. A rainbow of colors scattered across gray stone.

But what took her breath away was the people.

Dozens of them, maybe hundreds, more than she could count, milling in and around the carved out buildings and through the stone cobbled streets. Stone skin of various colors. Some built thick and stocky, others wiry and slender. Horns of all shapes and sizes, some even in clusters of two or three. One eye, two or three, extra limbs and digitigrade legs. Clothing was varied, some were as naked as AAARRRGGHH, some wore kilts with no shirt, some wore shirts with no pants. And while most of them were certainly bigger than Jim she was relieved to see that AAARRRGGHH seemed to be as big as they got. No two were the same, but each and every one of them was like Jim–

Barbara couldn't move, standing there absolutely stupefied, her heartbeat high and fluttering as she gazed out at the vast city before her.

This...all of this was right beneath their feet for the past ten years, this whole time...

A hand on her shoulder snapped her out of it.

“You doing ok I know all this...." Jim stretched out an arm and gestured towards the mystical stone metropolis in front of them "Can be…a lot,”

Barbara recovered and laid her hand over Jim's, squeezing his armored fingers while glancing up at him with a smile “It is...quite an adjustment, but I'm ok, let’s keep going,”

AAARRRGGHH led them down one of the narrow streets winding between the buildings, trading open space for a crowded corridor. Shops and stalls lined either side of them, positively bustling with activity. One troll dumped a cartful of light bulbs into another's barrel, another ladled out bowlfuls of a thick steaming steaming something to the trolls who were lined up in front of a massive cauldron, two trolls shouting at each other in a guttural language that was certainly not english, the subject of the argument appeared to be an old staticy television of all things tucked under one of the pair's arms, off to the side in one booth a troll leaned over a seated troll with-- Wait was that a chisel?

Apparently the markings on AAARRRGGHH's chest and arms weren't a natural pattern.

There was so much going on, so many different sights and sounds and smells. Despite knowing how decidedly not safe it would be to do so, part of Barbara itched to break off from the group, explore all the new, fascinating things around them.

A quick glance at the kids ahead of her told her they were feeling the same way. They were all glancing around with stars in their eyes, darting this way and that to get a closer look at whatever had grabbed their attention.

"What kind of skulls are those!"

"Hang on I think there's an apothecary over there--"

"Have you guys seen this embroidery!" Mary's phone was in her hand taking a near constant stream of photos.

"Can I live down here I totally want to live down here..."

Without even realizing it they were drifting farther and farther away from each other, a space growing between them and AAARRRGGHH as they fell behind. And their heads weren't the only ones turning...

The troll by the cauldron had dropped his ladle and was gaping at them in wide eyed shock, the troll being chiseled grabbed the chiseler's arm, pointing at their group while letting off a rapid fire of that same guttural speech. The two trolls who had been arguing over the tv stopped shouting to turn and stare, both their faces twisted with matching expressions of rage--

The observation sobered her in an instant, Barbara was suddenly very keenly aware of the growing distance between each of them and their escort. She quickly rushed forward and grasped Claire by the elbow, gently but firmly pulling her away from the table full of crystal carvings and back towards the center of the street.

"Come on kids let's try to stay together, we've got a schedule to keep,"

She strode over and reached up to grab Jim by the shoulder from where he was staring at the chiseler's booth.

"That means you to kiddo,"

Jim grinned sheepishly and followed her back towards the center of the street "Right, sorry,"

Barbara quickly corralled the others, Toby grumbled a little bit but Mary was easy because she was to busy taking pictures to protest, Claire having herded Darci back in while she was busy with the others. Once all six of them were gathered together again Barbara hurried them along as urgently as she could without slipping into outright panic, making a concerted goal to keep all the kids close and close the gap between them and AAARRRGGHH.

Only when AAARRRGGHH was a mere six feet ahead of them did Barbara risk a glance at the trolls around them.

They were still turning more than a few heads, but fortunately the predominant emotion seemed to be abject shock instead of hostility.

Still not ideal but Barbara would take what she could get.

Eventually their street opened up into a wide courtyard, ahead of them was a set of steps leading up to a larger cave dwelling, stepping off the street and into the building, following AAARRRGGHH down a narrow hall lit with small orange crystals embedded in the stone.

They followed him through narrow twists and turns until they reached a room that was entirely made of the same orange crystal as the hallway lamps. It wasn't as impressive as the view of the cityscape, but it still took Barbara's breath away. The entire space seemed to glow with the warm light of the crystals surrounding them, giving the room a cozy atmosphere. Still, as comfortable as it looked she couldn't afford to get swept up and drop her guard.

She adjusted her glasses and flicked her gaze from side to side, surveying the large room. Barbara's best guess was that this space was some sort of workshop. There were a few desks and what appeared to be workbenches scattered about, their surfaces littered with tools ranging from recognizable to completely foreign.

But most importantly, the room was occupied.

Standing at the largest table were two trolls, a smaller blue one with six eyes and four arms, this must have been Blinky, and a taller pale one. Both of them turning and standing at attention at their arrival.

Barbara wasn’t quite sure how trolls aged, she lacked the context and the wide field of background knowledge to make any conclusions about the ages of any trolls she saw. But if she had to hazard a guess she'd say the troll next to Blinky was an older one. His mane and beard were snow white and hung nearly all the way down to his kilt; large, twisting horns grew out of either side of his head, larger than both Jim's and AAARRRGGHH's. He was holding a large cane– staff? That appeared to be made from the same crystal as the room.

His eyes were completely milked over, no discernible iris or pupil, if Barbara had seen that in a human she would have assumed they were blind, but there was nothing unseeing about the shrewd way those pale eyes narrowed, the troll they belonged to briskly striding towards them.

“Oh wonderful, more humans, why even bother with secrecy anymore? Why not invite the entire city down for the next festival,”

Toby perked up “Really?”

The old troll shot him a sour look that silenced Toby in an instant.

Barbara dug her fingers into her palms and fought the urge to fidget. She was nervous-- scratch that she was terrified. They were way out of their depth here and the slightest misstep could land them in serious trouble. But running away wasn't an option, both physically and personally. This was the closest they've ever been to real answers, about what Jim was and what happened to him, and Barbara needed to see this through, and she owed it to Jim and the other kids to take the lead.

Forcing herself to move, Barbara approached the older troll “Pardon me, I know our presence is an intrusion in your...city, but as Jim’s mother I–”

Several pairs of rapidly blinking eyes over a wide grinning mouth filled her vison, Barbara jerking and taking an involuntary step back.

“Our Trollhunter’s mother! Bah-buh-rah!” Blinky rushed up to her, Barbara only barely managing to squash the urge to scramble back away from him “You must be so proud! Please let me know if there is anything we can do to accommodate your stay in our humble market,”

Barbara somehow found the wherewithal to nod back "Th-- thank you, Blinky right?"

Impossibly Blinky's grin got even wider "Indeed, I am Blinky, principal scholar and librarian of Trollmarket, and it is my honor to welcome you and your party to our fair market,"

From out of nowhere Blinky started vigorously waving all four of his arms.

The action was so out of nowhere Barbara could only blink back at him. Could trolls...fly? Because that seemed to be what Blinky was trying to do.

“Umm…what are you doing?” Mary spoke up.

Blinky paused, arms still splayed out midair “Is not shaking hands the traditional human greeting?”

From behind she heard Toby let out a chuckle "He's a little confused but he's got the spirit,"

Meanwhile Barbara managed to fight back a very inappropriate laugh and compose herself, Blinky might have some...misconceptions about human culture, but he was friendly and seemed to be happy to have them here. And right now that was immeasurably valuable.

“Thank you for the greeting Blinky,”

The blue troll practically glowed with happiness, Barbara managed to smile back as she stepped around him to look back up at the old troll “And I understand that all of us being here makes things more complicated, but Jim is involved, and as his mother I have a right to know what is going on mister...”

"I am known as Vendel," the older troll tapped his staff on the ground "Elder of Trollmarket, the one responsible for dealing with this mess your son and his companions of have caused,"

The words were spoken with no small amount of exasperation, but Vendel still turned and gestured for them to follow as he approached a desk.

Still not ideal but Barbara would take what she could get here. She stepped up to the desk, hearing the soft scuffle of sneakers on stone, along with the distinctive click of metal, as the kids followed her “Now from what Jim told me, I understand that this amulet--"

Her eyes flickered over to Jim hovering just over her shoulder, amulet still affixed to his chest, ticking softly.

"Chose him as this 'Trollhunter'. What exactly does that mean?”

Vendel let out a heavy breath, flipping open a book and pushing it towards them, Barbara got up as close as she could, the kids crowding in on either side, all six of them pressed up against the table staring down at the opened book. The book looked to be bound with actual leather, the pages velvety parchment, so heavy and large it clearly wasn't made with human hands in mind. The page it was opened to showed an inked illustration of a line up of several trolls, there was writing as well in a runic language Barbara didn't recognize. The trolls pictured were of various shapes and sizes, but all wearing silver armor--

Her breath caught in her throat, gaze flickering over to Jim then back down at the book. Not just any armor, Jim's armor. And now that she knew what to look for she could spot the same amulet on each of the armored trolls as well.

“The Trollhunter is the guardian and protector of all Trollkind," Vendel reached over and tapped the page directly above the picture of a stocky troll with twisting, branch like horns "Our sacred champion, part of a legacy stretching back thousands of years,"

"Ok I gotta ask," Mary shouldered past Barbara and leaned forward over the table, snapping a few pictures of the open book with her phone "What's with the name? So I get that this amulet chooses your new Batman or whatever, but why do you call them the Trollhunter? For you guys that sounds more like some kind of supervillain name,"

Vendel's expression puckered but before he could speak up Blinky popped up beside him.

"I can answer that, you see the name ‘Trollhunter’ is a bit of a mistranslation, the closest this tongue can manage. In common trollish the name is closer to 'The Troll who Hunts' or ‘The Troll who is the Hunter’,”

“So this Trollhunter…” Claire reached over, thumbing the edge of the page “This amulet...chooses them?”

“Correct,” Vendel reached over and flipped the page she was fondling. Now the book showed a close up illustration of Jim's amulet, the Trollhunter's amulet, surrounded by captions and notes in the same runic script.

“The amulet is a mystical artifact, crafted by Merlin and given to the first chosen hunter, Gorgus the Great nearly ten millennia past. It can be used to summon the daylight armor, and selects the new bearer of the mantle when the previous holder falls,”

Barbara traced her finger over the inked illustration of the amulet. It sounded like once this Trollhunter...died, the amulet would pick a new one, which was how it made its way to Jim. Which it could do because it was...magical. Barbara had questions about that, a lot of questions, but there were far more pressing matters right now so she'd save those for a later--

Abruptly Vendel pulled the book away and leaned down sharply, piercing all of them with a shrewd gaze.

“I have answered your questions, now you must answer one of mine,” Vendel briskly strode around the bench towards Jim, milky gaze boring into him “You claim to be human, so how is it that you can change your shape between human and troll?”

“Oh yeah, that,” Jim took a hesitant step towards him “Well I started out as completely human, like 24/7 365, then when I was little…I fell into a potion. Ever since then I change into this," he gestured towards himself "Every sunset, plus when I go underground, and if I get hit with uv light while I'm a...troll I guess, it turns be back human, otherwise I change back at sunrise,”

Vendel leaned in closer, his face only inches apart from Jim's, staring him square in the eye, making Jim shift uncomfortably. Part of Barbara itched to intervene, but things didn't seem dangerous just quite yet, and butting right now could very well do more harm than good.

Several moments of uncomfortable silence Vendel leaned back, shutting his eyes and letting out a soft breath, Barbara wasn't certain but it almost sounded like he was sighing in relief.

“Alright then,” Vendel moved back around to the other side of the workbench, one hand gripping his staff the other folded behind his back “The amulet has never chosen a human as its champion before, and Trollmarket cannot know the truth, such an unprecedented choice for their protector would spark untold panic and confusion. Therefore what we will tell the masses is that you,” Vendel jabbed a finger in Jim’s direction “Are the child of surface wandering exiles, and you sought out Trollmarket after the amulet chose you,”

Jim slowly nodded “Ok…”

“You will return here each night for your training, and your human companions will not.”

For the first time since coming down here Barbara allowed a frown to break through her composure, squaring her shoulders and reaching up to readjust her glasses while shifting her gaze towards Vendel.

She needed her vision sharp if she was going to be staring any of these trolls down.

“Um yeah, no way.” Claire perched her hands on her hips.

“You can’t just dangle trolls and a magical underground city in front of us and expect us to just walk away,” Toby said, throwing out his hands in exasperation.

Jim stepped to the front of the group and folded his arms “Yeah my gang and I are a package deal. Take it or leave it,”

Barbara sidestepped Jim and put herself in front of the group, raising her head to look Vendel in the eye, trying hard not to think about just how much bigger he was than her “And I don’t care what you or some amulet have to say about it. If my son is involved here then so am I,”

Vendel pinched his brow again and muttered something guttural, completely unlike english, before clearing his throat and scowling down at them "You know not what you ask. We are an old race, proud, slow to change. Humans have never been permitted to tread within our protected halls, and allowing so now, especially when our Trollhunter has their own...irregularity, would incite unimaginable chaos!"

Barbara folded her arms and narrowed her eyes "So your solution is to place the entirety of the burden of this cultural discrepancy on my son, who might I remind you, is a child!"

Vendel blinked back at her owlishly, all traces of grouchiness on his face replaced with abject surprise. He glanced backwards towards Blinky, who glanced over at AAARRRGGHH. The three shared a look, a silent conversation.

"Hey I turn sixteen next month..." Jim mumbled from behind her.

Barbara sucked in a breath through her nose and bit back the many more, far less polite, words in the back of her throat.

She needed to keep her cool here, there was nothing to be gained by being snippy, even if she was one hundred percent in the right. Blinky and AAARRRGGHH seemed friendly, and while Vendel was decidedly less so, he came off as more frustrated at the situation than hostile towards them. She had no reason to believe these trolls were her enemies, and nothing to gain by treating them as such.

"Look I understand this whole situation is less than ideal," Barbara risked a step towards Vendel "But the fact of the matter is, if my son is involved, then so am I. That is nonnegotiable."

"Yeah us to!" Toby piped up "Team sidekick is here to stay!"

"Ok we're not calling ourselves that," Mary groused.

In the interest of presenting a united front to the trolls Barbara didn't voice her own opinions on that particular matter.

Vendel held her gaze for the longest time, before slumping forward onto his walking staff with a sigh "Very well, you shall remain, both tonight and continuing on. But it is clear we have much to discuss, and you cannot wander around the market unescorted. Blinkous?"

Blinky-- or Blinkous it seemed, perked up at Vendel's words "Yes?"

"You and AAARRRGGHH will lead our Trollhunter and his companions through the market. Look after them and show our new hunter exactly what it is he shall fight for and protect. Bah-buh-rah and I shall remain here to discuss how we are to proceed going into the future,"

Vendel paused and glanced towards her "Of course, only if this arrangement is agreeable to you,"

Barbara let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. Cooperation. Collaboration. Compromise. Maybe things weren't as overwhelmingly impossible as she thought.

"Yes that would be fine,"

If Blinky looked happy before he was practically radiant now "Splendid!" he clapped both sets of hands together "The chance to show newcomers, humans who've never before seen the marvels of trollkind, the glory of Trollmarket-- I would be delighted! Oh we simply must stop by my library first--"

"Hang on are we getting a tour?" Claire grinned and hurried over to Blinky "Because I would love a tour!"

Jim frowned and glanced towards Barbara "But we'd be leaving you by yourself here..."

Barbara smiled back at him and tried to project a calm she didn't feel. The thought of Jim or any of the kids leaving her sight in this strange underground place made her stomach twist. But like it or not she couldn't protect them from everything down here, and they needed to indulge the trolls in the little bit of trust they'd earned. These trolls had saved them and given them sanctuary once, if Blinky said he'd look after them she believed him. There was still a lot she didn't know about trolls or this troll-hunting business, but her gut instincts, something she'd always relied on to keep her and Jim safe, were telling her that AAARRRGGHH, Blinky, and Vendel didn't mean them any harm.

"I'll be perfectly safe discussing things with Vendel. You and your friends go take a look around, just remember to stay together and stay close to Blinky,"

Jim slumped his armored shoulders, wringing his hands together "It's just...I'm worried..."

"I give you my solemn oath as the principal elder of Trollmarket," Vendel moved closer, crystal staff clicking against the stone floor "Bah-buh-rah shall come to no harm this night, I will protect her with my own stone and my own life if need be,"

"See there you go," Barbara gave Jim the sunniest expression she could manage "Go, explore, you and your friends get the lay of the land. And don't forget it's my job to worry about you, not the other way around,"

"Come on Jim!" Toby called over from where he and the girls were gathered by the entrance to the cave with Blinky and AAARRRGGHH, practically bouncing on his heels "We're getting a tour of the magical troll city!"

Jim's gaze flickered back and forth between him and Barbara, only stilled by her hand on his cheek.

"Go, I'll be fine. Vendel promised, and I'm promising to,"

Jim held her gaze, his expression deeply conflicted, before nodding his head, patting her fingers with his own before pulling away. He strode towards the entrance where the others were waiting, soon quickly enfolded in their excitement at the idea of exploration. The seven of them heading out of the tunnel and out of sight.

Barbara forced herself to turn away from the hall and back towards Vendel "Thank you for accommodating us, I know dealing with all this must be difficult for you,"

Vendel nodded his head in acknowledgment "I imagine this hasn't been easy for you as well," he moved back towards the largest desk and gestured for her to follow "But while circumstances are far from ideal for both of us, it is clear that we are far better off as allies than adversaries,"

He turned to face her across the work table, laying one hand down on the table "We do have a great deal to discuss regarding our Trollhunter-- your son's new role, but I must insist that we begin with another subject,"

He gestured for Barbara to take a seat at a bench alongside the worktable, she did so with only a slight bit of difficulty, feet dangling high above the floor, while Vendel did the same across from her.

"The circumstances of young Jim's transformation, the potion that altered him. I wish to know every detail, no matter how minute. I speak without exaggeration when I say that this knowledge is of dire importance for his future within Trollmarket,"

A sudden lump appeared in Barbara's throat. Discussing her greatest shame with someone she'd met all of ten minutes ago was the last thing she wanted to do, even coming after following a troll to his hidden underground city. But Vendel was right, this was absolutely relevant, and he didn't strike her was the type to exaggerate. If Vendel said this was critically important she believed him. Of course it didn't make the prospect any more appealing...

But how else was she supposed to get explanations, answers, a cure? The only way out of this was forward, and trust ran two ways...

Barbara cleared her throat "Of-- of course. I'll tell you everything, but there's quite a bit to go over to give you the full context,"

Vendel nodded and gave her his full gaze "Speak your story in its entirety and I will hold my questions until you've finished,"

She nodded once more in acknowledgement then spoke up before she could loose her nerve "I guess this all started a little over ten years ago, with my ex husband..."