#getting rid of old things slowing me down and depressing me and starting all new igggg

[enden-k]

moving and deleting files from ipad to pc in hopes it strikes my will to draw again and i love how 2023 folder simply displays hthm boobies 🙃 perfectly sums up my year in regards of art lololol

[jennifer-jeong]

Hi there :)

Can I request some headcanons about Xiao and Wanderer (separated) with an old s/o? Like, they've been together for decades, but reader is a mortal and they're not, therefore they don't have many years left to live now that they're in their 80s. I would like something sweet but feel free to add some angst in it.

HI ANON TY FOR YOUR ASK! Ok so I’m literally goiNG TO CRY because I actually purposely make my own self insert immortal because this makes me so depressed but dw I will make it a fluffy happy ending. I would be unwell if I didn’t make it a happy ending LMAO

Fluff + Slight Angst | Xiao/Wanderer x Reader Mortals

CONTENT Fluff, some angst, gender neutral reader, HAPPY ENDING WOO, CHARACTERS ARE 18+

XIAO has been alive for longer than he can genuinely remember and most of it was spent suffering alone. He’s scarred so deeply that even until the end of time, the marks will never fade. He can’t get rid of his past but you came along and he realized he could at least start to heal from the centuries of pain. Your time together has been the best years of his life and it makes his heart ache to think that you’re about to come and go before even living for a fraction of his life. He’s watched your mortal body age but he still thinks knows that you’re the prettiest thing he’ll ever encounter. Xiao has always treated his time with you like it was limited, even when you were younger. He’s been getting desperate recently though, your body has slowed down, and you’re well into your elderly years. He’s always wanted to ask you if he and Zhongli could help you with this, return you to your younger body and help you live forever. But, he thought it would hurt you. Immortality is more of a curse than a blessing and he of all people should know that. But as your health deteriorated, he started to plan how to ask you without pressuring you. Honestly, when he finally brought it up, you giggled at him and said “I didn’t even know you could do that.” He blinked as he realized how much time had passed and how he really had been avoiding it all these years. It was just somewhat unfathomable to a 2000 year old being that all these fun years with you had already been a few decades. He explains why he felt bad suggesting it, but you quickly comforted him and thanked him for even bringing it up. You said you needed some time to think about it but you knew that you wanted more time with your beloved. It’s near impossible for most people to find their soulmate and so since you found yours, you wanted to somewhat selfishly hold onto him as long as you could. Of course he secretly felt the same though. Your time together might end soon as the traveller discovers the underlying mysteries of the world or it could end millenia later. Either way, you knew you’d be able to face it, together.

WANDERER has been through so much over the past few centuries of his life and he’s believed his emotions have been so useless to him as he isn’t even human. His suffering, pain, and desire never made sense because he always lacked a heart. He thought he’d be doomed to this forever until he met you. You breathed life into his mechanical body and into his new anemo vision heart. He felt truly alive with you, it was like he was freshly born as a real man when you came into his life. He took a while to properly warm up to you before he could express himself in a healthy way but you always had the patience for him. The problem was that he couldn’t have the same patience, not because he wasn’t a healthy partner, but because your life had a definite end. He was impatient because he couldn’t lose you and he didn’t know what else to do. He consulted Nahida/his mom about it and she suggested using his body as a template to create a body for you. One that would last forever with him. He was immediately overjoyed to hear that there was hope and he almost forgot to consider that you might not want to live forever. He probably tries to gauge if you would want to by prodding you with small questions but you see straight through him. You know something’s up, and you tell him that you know there’s enough trust between you two for either of you to speak freely. So he does. You take some time to debate it and decide to do it because even if at some point you can’t take it, you’d talk to him about it and come up with a solution (but you doubt that'll come up <3). There was a lot going on in Teyvat at the moment but just knowing that you’d have more time gave both of you peace. He was worried that afterwards you might not be the same, and that you might become emotionally hollow. But you knew that with him there, you’d never feel any less alive. Even without your physical body, you both had your souls, and it was all you’d ever need.

|| MASTERLIST ♡ || Thank you for reading! ||

[harryforvogue]

Lover of Mine* (Harry and Yasmine’s Christmas Blurb)

HIIIII here is harry and yasmine’s fic!! it’s about them moving into their new apartment together, featuring some bickering and then slow sex by the fire. i hope you enjoy it!!!

6k words! happy reading, and as always, reblog, like, and tell me what you think!

here is the link to my ko-fi :)

***

30 seconds have passed since Harry and Yasmine started staring each other down, dark narrowed eyes meeting green narrowed eyes, both holding the coldness that could chill the Sahara desert. Harry’s left hand holds one of his action figures, a new one, because Yasmine can’t identify it, and Yasmine’s right hand holds her 5 rupee coin, not in a comforting way, but in a way that suggests she’s about to hurl it at Harry’s head.

“Put it down,” Harry says calmly. “And let’s have a conversation.”

“I don’t want those in our room.”

“They’re on my side.”

“If you get to have those, then I get to have my bookshelf.”

Harry slants a look to the unfinished shelf she’s yet to attach to the wall. “No work stuff in the bedroom.”

“It’s not work stuff. They’re my favorite books. I get to have them if you get to put those horrendous figures near me.”

Yasmine is satisfied when Harry’s brows turn in, his lips pressed thin. “No.”

“Then my answer is no as well.”

“If you get to put those things in our room, as well as your posters, I get to decorate the study all by myself, and all my books get priority for placement before yours.”

Harry looks at the boxes on the ground, her torn and well read books spilling out of them. “Can you at least replace those tattered books with better ones? I don’t want to look at them in the study. We share it. It’s not only yours.”

“We share this bedroom. It’s not only yours,” she repeats back through her gritted teeth.

“Looking at your books will be ridiculously depressing.”

“Looking at your ugly action figures of nonhuman species makes me want to barf. I already had to live with it back at the dorm buildings, and I will not tolerate that here!”

“You survived, didn’t you?” he mocks, putting his action figure down on the hardwood floor. He removes more out of their bubble wrapping and continues to line them up neatly in some order that Yasmine doesn’t care enough to ask about.

“Get them out of here, Harry.”

He glances up. Yasmine’s eyes are blazing with frustration. “Fine. You decorate your side how you want and I’ll decorate my side how I want. For the bedroom and for the study, so go ahead and be as boring as you want.”

Her jaw tightens. “My decorations are not boring.”

“They are, too,” he says, returning the action figures to their box, standing up, gingerly picking up the box and tucking it under his arm. “So go ahead. I’m going to take my stuff to the study and then I’ll come back and ruin this room. If you haven’t ruined it already.”

“Why are you so difficult? We’re 25 years old, Harry. We should not have action figures in our bedrooms or study.”

Harry’s eyebrows raise as he holds the box tenderly to his side. “You’re suggesting we get rid of my collector’s editions of these very rare action figures and posters that are in near mint condition?”

“I’m suggesting you put them somewhere so that I never have to look at them again.”

“If I do that, you have to throw out all your ripped and ruined books and replace them. And buy hardcovers, for fuck’s sake. There are so many new editions of Wuthering Heights with great covers that don’t look like they’ve gone through a fucking tornado.”

Yasmine takes a step towards Harry, still holding the coin between her fingers. “Wuthering Heights goes nowhere.”

“Yeah? What’s so special about it anyways? If I blow on it, the pages will disintegrate.”

“I’ll make you fucking disintegrate if you don’t shut up and get those toys out of my room.”

“Your room?” he echoes, reaching out to grab her arm, tugging her closer to him smoothly. “This is our room, darling, and you better get used to the idea of sharing. Now, listen.” He ignores the look she throws at his large hand on her upper arm. “You decorate your boring side how you want, I’ll decorate my side how I want. I don’t want to hear a word from you about my posters and action figures and in return, I won’t try to throw out all your old books when you’re dead to the world asleep, got it?”

Don’t get him wrong, Harry loves having arguments with Yasmine, but sometimes she really needs to hear it straight. She breaks her arm from his grip.

“Fine.”

Pleased, he smiles, reaching out for her again. He places a firm hand on the back of her neck and yanks her back in before she can move away. He kisses her mouth passionately and then releases her. There’s a slight blush on Yasmine’s face when she turns away.

***

Yasmine’s arms are throbbing with pain by nighttime and Harry’s still in their room while she’s decorating her side of the study. His side is already completed and she’s trying not to dwell on the Star Wars posters too much. She sees herself in the reflection of a new one, wanting nothing more than to move it slightly to the side so when she takes any video calls, Darth Vader isn’t in the back.

The first problem is that her desk is too close to the middle of the room and it can be pushed further against the wall. The second problem is that Yasmine’s arms are aching and she suspects they’ll break in half if she continues to strain them. Harry will need to help her with it, so she gathers herself and heads to the room.

He’s there, dusting the side table on her side. She watches him place her eye cream on the wood, exactly where she likes it, and her bottle of melatonin.

“Can you help me move my desk?” Yasmines says, leaning against the doorway.

Harry glances over his shoulder. “Depends. Are you done being upset at me?”

“I wasn’t upset with you. I’d just rather not have sex with you in the same room as Han Solo because I know you’ll be giving him the horny eyes instead of me.”

He laughs softly and stands up, striding to her. Instead of kissing her, he squeezes her cheeks together and forces her to pucker her lips. “You’re so adorable,” he murmurs, kissing her forehead. “And so infuriating. I love it.”

When he realizes that Yasmine’s not prying his fingers away from her face, he falters. He releases her and frowns. “Are you in pain?”

“No,” she lies, looking away. “I just need to move the desk.”

“How bad is the pain?”

“I’m not in pain.”

“Yasmine. I told you not to strain yourself.”

She looks back at him. “You have your scolding voice back.”

“Because getting scolded is the only way you listen to me. Go sit down. I’ll figure it out.”

He doesn’t look upset with her, but he doesn’t look pleased either, with his brows all furrowed and his mouth in a firm line. She doesn’t argue, walking around him to sit on the bed, her knees drawn up to her chest.

He returns two minutes later with painkillers and a glass of water. He sets them in front of her and then sits beside her.

“Do you want to take a bath?”

After she takes the pain killers, she nods. “Will you come with me?”

His lips press to her temple as he murmurs, “Of course.” And then he disappears into their new bathroom to get the hot water running.

She looks at his side of the room, relieved that he’s decided to keep things at a minimum. The colors are neutral and his books are neat against the wall, the rest of the boxes still holding his clothes and accessories. They haven’t done anything for the closet yet.

Since it’s December, they’ve decided to set up the Christmas tree first, and it currently stands in the living room without any ornaments or presents beneath it, but Harry really enjoys Christmas, so he’s mostly likely going to get her up early to begin decorating properly. Harry’s been going all out with the decorations, and they’re all in shopping bags. The only decoration that is currently up is the mistletoe that hangs at the entrance of their home. Some lights linger in the living room, but they can easily be substitutes for the lack of lamps.

Yasmine’s never celebrated Christmas, but she’s not opposed to it, especially since Harry’s been so cheerful about it. He’s gone out and bought presents for many people, friends and family alike, and she would be lying if she said that she didn’t think about the present he’s gotten her. Whatever it is. And she’s going to have to buy him something good as well because Harry’s a talented gift buyer. He’s romantic with it too, accompanying the gift with a weekend trip or dinner in a private part of the restaurant, under the sparkling lights. Perhaps he’ll order every single dessert item on the menu and hand feed it to her. Perhaps he’ll decorate their bed in petals as he’s done before.

She has to admit that if anyone else did this for her, she’d be a little weirded out, but she’s gotten to know Harry over these past few months. She’s been given the chance to fall in love with him. She loves all that he does for her.

When he walks out of the bathroom, he looks at her, clearly concerned. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

She blinks back into focus. “Hm? Nothing. I was just thinking.”

“About?” he asks cautiously, reaching a hand out.

“How much you do for me.”

His eyes widen. “Oh? Oh. You’re in a lovey mood. You know, I’ve noticed that after an argument, you just love to be coddled.”

She places her hand in his and lets herself be pulled to his chest. Harry has lit a few candles around the room, all safely placed away from hanging curtains and tapestries. The cinnamon smell makes her sigh and lean into her boyfriend’s neck, wrapping her arms around his middle.

“We should invite your family over for Christmas,” she murmurs, kissing his neck. “And I do not want to be coddled. I just want to thank you.”

Harry pulls his head slightly away. “Fuck’s sake, are you feeling okay?”

“Yes. I feel fine.”

“You’re being uncharacteristically nice.”

She draws back and shakes her head. “I’m telling you that I appreciate you.” Her hands slide down his chest and press into his abs, making them harden under his fingertips as he tries to suppress a laugh. “We’re living together now. Isn’t that so cool?”

“How long do you think we’ll survive without hurling objects at each other?”

She smiles, stepping up onto his tiptoes to softly kiss his mouth. “I give it a week.”

“I give it two days tops,” he murmurs against her mouth. “And you’re going to be the one throwing things at me.”

“I would never.”

His gentle hands cup her face, drawing her closer for another kiss. He tastes like peppermints and she suspects he can taste sugar on her lips due to the gingerbread men she’s been munching on all day. Neither of them seem to want to break the kiss. Harry’s tongue slowly presses into her mouth and she retaliates with her own tongue, tasting more of the mint. One of his hands falls to her waist, holding her firmly against his front, his eyelashes fluttering against the bridge of her nose, hair tickling her jaw as Harry still hasn’t cut it. His hand is hard behind her, but the hand that’s now sliding into her hair is soft and slightly hesitant. It curls around the back of her neck and then maneuvers to wrap around her throat when he begins yet another breathless kiss.

She begins to ache immediately between her legs and she’s reminded of the fact that Harry has avoided being intimate with her for the last two days as she recovers from therapy.

She decides that the strike ends now. She releases one hand from around his torso and skates it over his hip, slowly sliding it over his lower stomach and then finally she palms him through his jeans.

Harry’s not expecting it, too engrossed in the kiss, but when she touches his crotch through his jeans, he gasps into her mouth and tightens his hold around her neck. “Yasmine,” he murmurs. “Don’t start something we can’t continue.”

“We absolutely can continue,” she whispers against his mouth, using both hands to undo the button and slide his zipper down. The sound of the zipper makes her smile with anticipation and she slowly dips her hand into his pants.

“Fuck’s sake,” he whispers softly, and when her eyes open, she’s delighted to see the pleasure on his face. He’s already hard, and it seems like he has been for a while.

“I miss you,” she says, pressing open mouthed kisses to his jaw and neck, enjoying his soft groans. “I miss you so much.”

His lower lip is caught between his teeth and he finally opens his eyes when she begins pumping her hand over him. He gives her throat a small squeeze. “Can you take me tonight?”

She shivers deliciously. “I can always take you.”

“You know what I mean, Yasmine.”

“Yes,” she breathes when Harry runs his thumb over her lower lip. “I can take you. I can take you so well.”

Harry groans once more and slowly takes a step back. “I don’t want you to be cold, Yasmine. Kali says that the cold is bad for your muscles. We can’t have a bath and then have sex or you’ll be freezing.”

Yasmine nods, licking her lips. His eyes are immediately captivated by the movement. “We can take a bath and then try out the fireplace.”

His eyebrows raise. “You want to fuck by the fire? Wow. I should give you more credit for your romantic-ness.”

She says, “Not fuck. I don’t want to fuck, Harry. It’s our first night.” She pauses, suddenly uncomfortable. “And I don’t think I could handle anything rough right now. But just imagine. Both of us laying on some heavy blankets on the floor by the fire, slowly making love.” She’s whispering in his ear now. “Just loving on one another. Doesn’t that sound wonderful? Please say yes.”

“You don’t have to say please,” he says, grinning. “I wasn’t ever going to object. Yes, Yasmine, we can do that.” He holds her chin and gently kisses the corner of her mouth. “You get in the bath and I’ll be there in a bit after I set up the arrangement by the fire. How’s that?”

She’s nodding before he’s even finished, tucking his hair behind his ear. “Yes. Yes. Go.”

He kisses her fingers and then gives her a little shove towards the bathroom. She hears him remove some boxes and take out their contents. Hears him start the fireplace, and then finally return to her when she’s completely submerged into the water with her head tilted back, hair in the bun, her muscles relaxed.

“I could look at you all day,” he says, pushing his jeans down, removing his shirt soon after. She scoots forward and lets him settle in so she can rest between his legs and melt into him.

He’s hard against her back, but he doesn’t do anything to show his need for release. Instead, he cuddles her against him and gently massages her neck, rolling out the thigh muscles as Kali has told him to do. He scoops the water and releases it over her shoulders every time he begins working on a new knot, pressing a tender kiss to her skin every time she hisses or shows any signs of discomfort.

“Sorry I yelled at you,” she whispers, removing one of his hands from her shoulders, wrapping her lips around his thumb. She feels his cock twitch with interest against her. With innocent eyes, she stares up at him, smiling.

“You’re not sorry,” he says quietly, tucking her hair back. It’s getting damp from the steam. “I don’t want you to be sorry.”

“You told me it turns you on,” she says from around his finger.

“Of course it does. Did you think I was hard for no reason when you decided to feel me up in our room?”

“I just figured you’re always hard around me. When I touch you, you always are.”

“That’s because you’re touching me,” he murmurs, removing his finger from her mouth. “You are insatiable.”

“You’re not really going to throw out my books when I’m sleeping, are you?”

Harry softly laughs and shakes his head before resting his forehead against hers. “No. Though you have to admit that you’re at your weakest when you’re sleeping. I could throw pots and pans onto the floor right beside you and you wouldn’t wake up.”

Yasmine hums, resting her head back on his chest. She takes his hands and brings them to her front, playing with his fingers until one of his hands attaches itself to her breast and softly squeezes. She swallows.

“Until I slept with you, I didn’t know I could sleep that well.”

Harry’s hand pauses for a moment before resuming its palming. He nudges her head to the side and kisses her shoulder. “That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“I mean it. Somehow our twin XL beds became so much more comfortable with you in them.”

Harry quietly groans. “Yasmine.”

“I mean it,” she repeats, a bit more quietly. “And I imagine that our full sized bed will feel even better with you in it.”

She takes his hand and places it on her thigh, releasing her hold on it. He knows what to do now, sliding it up her thigh to where she’s aching for him, slowly rubbing small circles on her clit. Her eyes flutter shut and she releases a long breath, all the tiredness and soreness escaping her as Harry tends to her. He’s immediately slick with a different type of wetness, kissing her neck gently as he pushes one finger inside of her.

“The bed that we won’t be breaking in tonight,” he murmurs, enjoying her gasps. “Because you want to have sex on the floor.”

“In front of the fire,” she corrects, turning her head, catching his bottom lip between her teeth. “With the Christmas tree and all. It’s quite the environment.”

He kisses her. “You’re right. I’m looking forward to it. I didn’t think we’d be banging on the floor so quickly after moving in, but…”

“Not banging. We’re going to make love.”

“Yes, my love. We are.”

He slowly removes the finger from inside of her and rubs her thigh gently, beginning to work on her tough muscles again. She smiles and lets him, knowing it gives him comfort. It feels amazing to be taken care of like Harry takes care of her. 

When the water runs lukewarm 15 minutes later, he helps her stand up, covers her in a towel, and covers his lower half in a towel as well.

While she’s making her way to their living room, Harry’s grabbing a condom.

When he gets to the living room, she’s still huddled in her towel, peeking up at him through her hair that’s fallen into her eyes.

“Why aren’t you laying down?”

“I don’t want to get the sheets wet,” she says. “I’m trying to get dry.”

“You…” he frowns, “are going to get dry because you’re in front of the fire. Drop the towel and get warm.”

She releases her grip on it and the towel gently falls to the floor. Harry brings her down to the blankets and makes her lay down before she can start shivering. 

“You are so cute,” he mutters, half to himself. “Every time you walked into that classroom, I’d think about how pretty you were, but look at you. You’re so adorable.”

“You couldn’t think I’m hot or sexy?” she scowls, wrapping herself in the weighted blanket.

“You’re all those things at different times.” He’s smiling so wide at her when she peeks out from under the blanket. “Right now, you’re so cute. The way you sleep is so cute too.”

“What do you mean?”

“Half your face is under the covers and the other half is so peaceful and relaxed. No matter how much I poke you, you’ll never wake up. You love sleeping, don’t you?”

“Why are you watching me when I sleep, you creep?”

He laughs, releasing his own towel and sitting besides her, tugging the blanket off her body so he can drape his own. “Because I can't help it. It’s so intriguing to watch you sleep. Do you know that you never move in your sleep? You spend the entire night in one position. No wonder your body aches in the morning. Maybe I should start flipping you over. Like a hamburger patty.”

“Please don’t.”

“Aren't I funny?”

“I’m about to pee myself from laughter.”

He rolls his eyes. “Are you warm?”

“Mhmm.”

“Shall we commence the banging?”

She scowls at him again. “What’s wrong with you today? Don’t be weird.”

He raises one eyebrow. “Alright, Yasmine. No playing around hmm?” He ducks his head and presses his lips to her collarbone, having to wrestle under the sheets to reach her skin. “Come here.”

When his warm hands find themselves against her curved waist, she snuggles closer to him more easily, shifting her head back to let him kiss her neck to his heart’s content. He lays kiss after kiss to her pulse point and then holds her jaw as he kisses her mouth slowly, now hovering over her. She wraps her legs around him.

“Shall we put some Christmas music on?” he whispers.

“I will not be having sex with you to Michael Bublé.”

“Your loss.”

He’s on his knees between her legs now, running his hands over her thighs and hips, every touch electrocuting her beyond reason. She should be embarrassed that Harry has barely kissed her, yet she’s ready for him.

Harry bends down and kisses her sternum. “Get me that pillow behind you.”

She hands it to him while raising her hips, knowing where the pillow will go. He fits it under her back and checks her face. “That alright?”

“Perfect.”

“Good.” He takes a moment to admire her under him, half of her face in the shadows of the darkroom and the other half illuminated by the crackling fire to her right. He imagines his face looks the same, and perhaps that’s why she can’t seem to take her eyes off him either. Her brown skin is beautifully warmed by the orange hue of the fire, her otherwise dark eyes now showing her black pupil. He can’t normally see it unless she’s looking into the sunlight, but now he can. His fingers run over her brow, lips twitching into a smile.

“You are a very breathtaking woman,” he whispers, the awe in his voice making her eyes widen. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you. I love you, Yasmine.”

She exhales softly, tucking his hair behind his ears, pursing her lips. “You love me?”

“So much,” he breathes.

“Will you make love to me since you love me? Treat me real good?”

He inwardly groans, unsure how she can make such a filthy sentence sound angelic from those lips of hers. He merely nods and spreads her legs so he can slot himself between her thighs, laying his weight partially onto her, but mostly the pillow peeking out from between her legs.

“I’ll do it,” he murmurs, brushing a kiss to her cheek. She gently holds him, giving him slow strokes with a loose grip, a motion that’s just enough to drive a man insane. “Because you love me too. Dumb action figures and all.”

“Dumb action figures and all,” she confirms, smiling. She twists her hand over his head, making him groan softly.

She guides him to her entrance, but Harry shifts away, frowning. “What? Oh, the condom.”

But Harry says, “Have you never heard of foreplay, you absolute psycho?”

“We did foreplay!” she growls.

“No we did not! I swear you’re the smartest and the dumbest person I know.”

“What does that mean?”

“I kissed you like twice. We did not foreplay!”

“That was enough for me! Can you just get inside?”

“Impatient little thing,” he says, taking her nipple into her mouth. She immediately shuts up, her hands flying to his hair. His tongue passes over her breast, pressing kisses and biting gently occasionally. He does the same to the other and then kisses down her stomach. She holds in a laugh when his cheeks tickle her sides.

“I know what foreplay is,” she murmurs over the crackle of the fire. “And I’m not impatient. I’m just really wet.” She drags out the last two words against Harry’s shoulder and he nearly shudders despite the warmth of the room.

He balances his hands besides her head. “Who’s all that for, Yasmine?” He walks his fingers between her breasts, down her sternum, and across her hips. He maintains eye contact with her when two of his fingers slip inside of her easily. “Fuck. Who’s all this for?”

“You,” she whispers, and this tells him that she’s truly ready for him. She’s pliant and has yet to snap at him. Properly at least. “It’s all for you.” When he curves his fingers upwards and rubs the lovely spot inside of her, she raises her hips and whimpers, clutching his shoulders tighter. “Harry.”

“That’s it, baby,” he murmurs, his thumb swiping over her clit. “That’s my name. I want you to say it louder.” With the last word, he speeds up his fingers, delighted by the way her eyes flutter shut and she throws her head back, her pulsing vein on display for him. He kisses it softly.

“Harry!” she gasps, digging her nails into him. “Please. I can take you now. Please just–” she breaks off with a soft groan and he can’t take it any longer. His head is spinning with arousal, body on fire.

“Alright, my love.” He slowly pulls his fingers out and wipes them on the sheets under him. He falls down onto his elbows, pushing her hair out of her eyes. Her vision focuses back on him, aware of his hand reaching for the condom. He rips into the packet and rolls it over him. “Still doing okay?”

“Yes, Harry.”

“Good.”

He’s wary of all her features as he slowly pushes into her, swearing softly when she does, and they both smile at each other at the first entrance. “Never gets old,” she whispers, and he answers with a kiss to her throat.

During the last physical therapy session, she worked on her arms the most, so he makes sure not to strain them too much. Instead of dealing with her aching arms from holding his neck throughout their love making, Harry takes her wrists and gently presses them beside her head. When she makes a sound of annoyance, he only smiles and laces their fingers together, and the fire in her eyes cools a bit. Her fingers grip his tightly and he leans down to kiss all ten of them, rolling his hips against hers until he’s fully situated inside of her.

“How are you feeling?” he whispers against her ear, her body warming his.

“Full,” she answers in a strained voice. “Really full.”

“You do kill me, darling.” He slowly moves away and then presses himself back in, grinning with her when she softly moans. “I love your sounds.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” He repeats the motion a few times, simply listening to her weak whimpers. “I love knowing that I am the only one who gets to hear them. That I’m going to be the only one to hear them from now on.” He pauses, kissing her cheeks over and over. “You don’t plan on leaving me, do you?”

“No.” Her answer is immediately, accompanied by another whimper. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“I love how you get when you feel good, Yasmine. When I’m inside of you and when you’re about to fall asleep. You’re so pretty. You are so, so pretty, Yasmine.”

And it’s true. When she gives him that sleepy smile in the mornings, or when she immediately buries herself into his chest when he carries her up to bed after she’s fallen asleep on the couch. And when she looks at him with her wide eyes and fluttering lashes when he removes himself only to rock back inside of her, filling her to the brim with both his love and his cock.

“You are,” she whispers, kissing his lower lip softly. “You’re pretty. You’re handsome. You’re perfect.”

“That’s so sweet of you,” he croons, biting his smile away. “You really love me, don’t you?”

It takes her a moment to reply as she shudders with pleasure. He answers with his own appreciative groan, swallowing her sounds in his mouth. He kisses her lightly. “I do,” she finally says, swallowing. He feels her throat working. “I do. We are so good together.”

Harry can’t help the smile now, gently rolling back into her. “The first time you were at my place, you said that we looked good. Because I was between your legs. Now you’re saying we’re good together. Do you have any idea how happy that makes me?”

“And do you have any idea how happy you make me?”

“I must say, you are a frightening little thing when you’re being nice to me.”

“Do you not like it?”

“I fucking love it.” He squeezes her fingers and then bends down, kissing her slowly, tasting her, appreciating her. “Any particular reason why you wanted to make love instead of fuck?”

“Just wanted to be close to you.”

“You’re in more pain than you’re letting me believe.”

She kisses him. “I am not.”

“You are a little liar.”

“Like a sexy liar?” 

He presses himself into her with a stuttered laugh, eating up her blissful moan. “No, Yasmine. Not like a sexy liar. You’ve got to tell me these things.”

“I’m not in pain right now,” she points out. “I’m preoccupied.”

He laughs again and then kisses her jaw. He focuses on their pleasure then, running out of breath to keep up the conversation. His heart feels heavy in his chest. She feels unbelievable around him and he loves how her walls pulse around him, pulling him in. Her body loves her just like she does.

The few lights he’s put up around the room twinkle. He’s rarely ever celebrated Christmas with people aside from his family, and to spend it privately in their apartment makes him swell with happiness. He gets to have her, in their bed, under the tree, against the hardwood floor in front of the fire. Everywhere. He gets to be with her and she gets to be with him. Isn’t that the best gift he could ever ask for?

“What are you thinking about?” she manages through a whine.

“Thinking about how I’d love to slap a bow on you and call you my Christmas present.”

Yasmine barks out a laugh, squeezing his fingers tightly. “I’d love to do that to you. I’m surprised you haven’t made any “dick in a box” jokes.”

“I value my life.”

“I would have laughed.”

“You would have broken up with me.”

She shakes her head, biting down on her lower lip. She sounds so lovely, her throat vibrating against his lips when she kisses the spot behind her ear. She smells like soap and the slightest bit of sweat, all very intoxicating to him.

“I have to admit,” she says, a bit breathlessly, “that I have missed you more than I’ve let on. You have to stop treating me like I’m going to break after my therapy sessions. Exercising does something to me. I want to touch you all over after I’ve gone through all that strenuous exercise.”

Harry bites down on her lobe, growling, “You’re supposed to be less horny after exercising.”

“Now how do you think I feel when I have all this energy and unreleased tension and I can’t even touch you to relieve myself?”

“You can always use your hand.”

“I do,” she says softly, her legs trembling slightly. He releases one of her hands and casually brushes his thumb over her clit, finding her aching and pulsing. “But it’s nothing like you.”

“No?” he murmurs, pouting mockingly at her. He continues rubbing, now picking up his speed though his thrusts remain slow and deep. “You need me in so many ways.”

Harry loves the sounds she’s making now, helpless whimpers coming from underneath him. The woman with a sharp tongue who can only repeat his name over and over.

Yasmine loves when his thrusts are deep and pleasure-filled, painstakingly slow with his thumb moving fast over her clit. The difference in tempo makes her arch and quiver, white hot pleasure running through her as her orgasm grows closer.

“You need me for a lot of things. To take care of you. To drive you places. To kiss you. To fuck you nice and good. But you need me to make love to you too, right? Is that your favorite thing about me? How good I give it to you?”

Yasmine is beyond the ability to speak right now, her body tense from the incoming orgasm.

He continues speaking through his groans, his own cock twitching with the need to release. “But I need you too. To keep me in check. To make me see fucking stars. I may give it to you good,” he says, brushing her hair away from her forehead, admiring her beauty, “but you also take me very, very well.”

“When you talk like that,” she whispers hoarsely, licking her lips, “I cum harder.”

Harry’s grinning. “I know. Won’t you cum for me, my love? In our new home? The place where I get to have you forever? You won’t be able to escape me.”

She’s not the type to disobey him when it comes down to this. Her nails dig into his hand, her other hand clutching the sheets around them. She rides through her orgasm with a cry that’s muffled into Harry’s mouth, his own tumbling out when she begins to pulse around him and he cannot hold his orgasm back either.

He’s wary of crushing her, his arms straining as he presses himself into her one more time. He bites down on her neck, cushioning the sounds of his orgasm, but it’s still loud and hot in her ear. When Harry collapses, he makes sure to do it on his side, away from her body so he doesn't damage her more.

“You're a fatal one,” he breathes, throwing his arm over his eyes, his other arm reaching out towards her. She’s still trembling when she lays on his chest and adjusts the weighted blanket over their bodies. “You are going to be the death of me.”

“So romantic,” she whispers as if she can’t speak louder. He peeks at her, kissing her sweaty forehead. “I love you, Harry.”

He smiles tiredly, gathering her closer into his arms until she’s sprawled over him, her breasts pressed to his bare chest, legs tangled together. He manages to remove the condom and chuck it in the bin. His fingers lightly dust over her bare skin, both of them staring into the blazing fire, heart beats mixed together.

“We should put up more lights,” she says softly. “And decorate the tree.”

“We should.”

“We should go shopping tomorrow for presents.”

“We should.”

“We should go back to our bed.”

“Mmm, we should not.” He tightens his strong arms around her and kisses her head soundly. “We should sleep here tonight.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“My back will hurt in the morning.”

“Sleep on top of me. Let me be your pillow.”

She gives him a skeptical look. “Your chest is harder than the floor.”

“Fuck.”

When he does manage to find the strength, he wraps her up in the sheets like a burrito and holds her bridal style as he walks back to their room. She’s watching him intently, memorizing all his tattoos and hard lines, all the soft flesh and the curve of his mouth when she’s caught staring at him.

When he drops her on the bed, she unravels herself and lays herself in a provocative manner over both their pillows. “Could you say I’m sexy now?”

Harry’s pulling on a pair of boxers, biting his lip to hide his smile. He lays down beside her and says, “No. You’re still so cute.”

“What do I have to do to get you to say that I’m sexy?”

He thinks for a moment as he stares at her, unable to stop himself from kissing the bridge of her nose. “You have to admit that my action figures are super cool and you’ve never been more attracted to me than when you see my dusting them.”

He receives a pillow to his face for that.

[littlespaceporgs]

for a second

pairing: kit fisto x reader word count: 2.2k warnings: language, references to O66, mild references to depression, i think that covers it? prompt: 11. Morning kisses that are exchanged before either person opens their eyes, kissing blindly until their lips meet in a blissful encounter.

a/n: when i started writing this, the intent was to be fluffy. and then i wrote it angsty. you're in for a ride with this one, dear reader. click here to read my other works!

being a jedi must be hard you supposed. before the war, they seemed to just float on air, like butterflies in the forests of endor. ethereal beings, untethered from the ground, unattached to anyone who wasn’t their own. now, in wartime, they were down to planet, though not in the usual way.

the ones you knew seemed flat, heavy with burden. exhaustion and sadness seemed to follow them around, dangling off the back of their necks. jedi used to roam the streets of coruscant, going to schools to meet with children, waving and nodding at people on the streets. now if you did manage to see one, they kept their heads low, shielded by their hoods. the message they carried with their presence had changed in that sort of way also.

if, by some strange twist of chance, you looked into their eyes, they just looked so… tired. drained by constantly travelling to system after system, seeing and feeling so many losses. light and content smiles had long since been replaced with drawn frowns and the light they brought into the room disappeared.

you saw it in kit fisto mostly. he was a regular appearance in your apartment. regular in terms that he kept coming back, however infrequent his visits had become. there was an extra bagginess under his eyes that hadn’t been there three years ago. the first steps of the war hadn’t shaken him too much, besides the added exhaustion, but after nahdar, he quickly started reflecting the other masters.

every time the door slid opened you waited with bated breath, though you typically knew if it was him before you saw him. a subtle flick in the back of your mind, and a soft glide on the base of your neck, followed by a knock. he’d tried explaining it to you once. how the force can connect individuals no matter how far, almost creating invisible strings and ties to others. how if it was done right, emotions, thoughts, could be projected to another with clarity. you just knew that it meant that he was alive when a warm presence engulfed your mind, feeling like an old familiar sweater over the cold months, and made you take a deep breath and comfort you.

last night was no different, you weren’t expecting him back, but as soon as he brushed your mind again you knew. he’d half dragged himself through the door, he only waited for the door to close before drawing you in. one hand cupped the back of your head, pushing it into his chest, the other around your back, gripping the back of your cardigan. he hadn’t spoken a word, but just dropped his head on yours, eyes sliding shut. he hadn’t spoken much for the rest of the night, not beyond the quiet loves, or to say that he wasn’t going to be here for long.

now in the morning, you hadn’t even opened your eyes yet. you knew that once he was awake, and when he knew you were awake, he’d probably have to start getting ready to leave again. so selfishly, you refused to open your eyes. you could feel the sun slipping in, reminding you of a new day. it was warming your hand on his chest, and despite it shining directly on your face, you refused to move.

the bed shifted on your side, so you knew he had twisted around to face you, and his hand had scooped yours off his chest. warm lips lightly pressed against your knuckles, and you heard him inhale deeply.

“good morning,” his voice rumbles in your ears, gruff from sleep still. you sighed, and held onto hope that maybe he wouldn’t have to leave again. without opening your eyes, you stretched your neck upwards, in the general direction of where his face would be. he met you halfway, gently pressing his lips to yours. it was slow, and much too short for your liking, but he simply stayed with his forehead against your own.

“how’d you sleep?” you mumbled, and received a breathy, short laugh from the nautolan.

“much better than how I did when I was away.” you hummed in acknowledgement. you could feel his eyes tracing your face, smoothing out all the stress that had come as he left.

reluctantly, you blinked your eyes a few times, to rid yourself of the morning blur. one of his hands grazed along the side of your face, pushing the hair aside, tucking it behind your ear. he was finally wearing a smile, soft and lighting up his face, pushing the stress lines that had formed upwards. you stared into his eyes, admiring the familiarity. many things about him had changed, his eyes had not. though you didn’t want to ask it, in fear of what the answer would be, you needed to know how much time you could hold onto.

“when,” you sighed mid-sentence, “when do you have to go?” he closed his eyes, and his smile turned to a frown.

“I’m not sure, it will be soon though. the council will call me when I’m expected.” despite knowing that would likely be the answer, you still sighed. the disappointment must have been palpable as he squeezed your hand a little tighter. as you went to speak again, your breath caught in your chest. before you’d even realised it there was anger burning in your stomach, pricking at your eyes and stinging your throat.

it wasn’t fair.

he sat up, pulling you with him. idly you felt his hand on your cheekbone, tracing it down to your jaw and along your lip. as you started breathing heavily from your nose, there was a familiar tingle in the back of your mind. it did nothing to distract you.

it wasn’t fair.

it wasn’t fair to him. it wasn’t fair to the galaxy. it wasn’t fair to all the innocents that got wrapped up in this. it wasn’t fair to the world leaders. it wasn’t fair to the clones. it wasn’t fair to the jedi. it wasn’t fair to you. it wasn’t fair that it felt so cold here despite the warm sun outside.

you felt bad for thinking it. you knew it was selfish. that there were bigger things. but fuck, it wasn’t fair.

you deserved him being close. you deserved to have him home every night. you deserved to have amazing days in the sun with him, not hiding in the shadows and behind close windows. you deserved kit being present, a constant in your life, the one thing that would be sure through everything.

hell even he deserved more. he deserved to wake up in his own bed. he deserved to have his girlfriend by his side. he deserved the choice to leave the order when he was ready, not be thrown into war. he deserved to be able to smile every day.

it just wasn’t fair.

you wanted to relax into him again. to forget that he had to leave. you wanted to hold his face in your hands and plant kisses along his forehead, over the creases around his eyes.

instead, you stood up from the bed, pulling away from him. you wrapped his robe tighter around your body as you peaked through the crack in the curtains, looking over coruscant. it was light outside, a stark contrast to the interior of your home. though you couldn’t see it, you could feel him frowning.

the bed groaned when he stood, and was accompanied by his bare feet padding on the floor. he rested a hand on your shoulder and half pulled you towards him, though you averted your eyes and looked towards the floor.

“what’s going on?” you chewed on your lip, and tried your best to not look him in the face. you’d probably crumble.

he said your name, barely speaking. his hand on your face turned you back up to him. when you met his eyes, you could see the sadness that pooled there, and made your throat sting again.

“it’s not fair, kit. you shouldn’t have to be out fighting a war that you have no part in. you should be here with me, or, or sparring or even on an aide mission, not fighting a war!” the stress was eating you alive. you pulled your hands through your hair and tried to choke back the sob. gods you knew it was wrong, but fuck, the anger was sitting at the forefront of your mind.

his hand had drifted off your shoulder.

“I understand how you’re feeling,” an indignant part of your mind supplied a ‘no, you don’t’, the corner of his mouth twitched further downwards, and pulled a piece of your heart with it. “but there are people out there who need-”

“you think I don’t fucking know that, kit!” it was all spilling over now. a tidal wave that you had been holding back for months all crashing at once, you wanted to stop. please, just stop. but you couldn’t. it just kept going. didn’t he know you just wanted him to be safe? “it’s like you’re never here anymore! you don’t smile, I can’t even remember the last time you walked in here smiling!”

you were crying now, and you desperately wanted it to be over. fuck, please just shut your mouth. “and then when you are here, we don’t talk! we just sleep together, it’s like we’re not even in a relationship anymore! I get that you’re tired and that war sucks, really I do,” you pulled your hair again, taking another step back and taking a breath. his face looked even more drawn out then before, and his eyes seemed to droop. he looked like he was sinking into himself.

you tried to take another deep breath, but all that occurred was a shudder. “I know that people need yo-” a sharp chime came from the communicator on the table. there was no movement. you just kept staring at each other. you tried to blink some of the tears as he opened his mouth again. his lips only fell open however, but all you wanted to do was kiss him. you wanted to hold him so close, and all the anger had left was sadness and regret.

his mouth moved again and his chest heaved, and it looked like he was going to speak. and then the communicator beeped again. higher pitched and faster this time. his face turned between you and the communicator several times before it beeped again. he breathed out a short string of curses and made his way to the table. you could only turn back towards the sliver of light coming through the window. the ships in the sky twisting around each other felt like they were in your stomach.

“master fisto, your report to council is required.”

“when?” his voice was gravlier then usual, and he ran his hand down his face.

“as soon as possible, we have delayed the meeting as long as we can. we’re afraid this can’t wait any longer.”

“very well. I will be there shortly.” the apartment fell into silence again. the only sound was the occasional speeder zooming past outside. he opened his mouth to speak again.

“no, please just go, kit.” you cut him off, removing the outer robe from your form. you could only describe it as the tensest moment as he tentatively took it back. your mouth suddenly felt dry.

“I-I’m sorry. I never meant to...” his voice trailed off, and you swiped a sleeve along your eye. you know it's not his fault, you know that. you only nodded, but still couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the face.

“I know.”

he seemed like he wanted to say more. you knew that you wanted to. you wanted to take it back, but it didn’t seem like any of those things were going to happen.

“we’re going to talk about this as soon as the meeting is over, i-I promise.” he paused for a second, as if he were mulling over his next words. “I love you.”

you heard the door slide open, and you squeezed your eyes tighter.

“I know.” he made a few quiet sounds towards the door. then the rustling of a cloak as he pulled it over his tresses. he stopped in doorway, and for a second you didn’t think that he was going to leave. that he’ll stay. that he’ll com the jedi, saying that he’s not coming back. that you’ll both fix things. that you two can go off and help whoever needs it in your own way, together. together.

but it was just for that second.

for the second after, he took a step forwards and out of the apartment and door slid shut behind him. the warm feeling retreated from your mind, and left it cold and empty. now you let out the sobs that had been stuck in your chest, burning up. gods you should’ve said I love you back. you could still make it out the door, chase him down. but for whatever reason, you don’t.

3 hours later your own communicator pings from your desk. it was a short message. he was called away again, straight after the meeting. it was coruscant based so it hopefully wouldn’t be long. he said it was big, that the war will end, because they found the sith lord they had been searching for. he said that he would come home to you, and for a second, you saw a glimmer of hope on his face. he said 'I love you' and it seemed to linger through the recording. he said that everything was going to change.

nothing could have prepared you for what change would bring.

tags for my lovelies <3: @valkyrieofthehighfae @hounding-around @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @mcu-padawan @crxwblood @captainrexstan @anakin-danvers @queenevac @raeshin @venomous-ko @onabouteverything @leias-left-hair-bun @a-dorin

let me know if you want to be added/removed to/from the taglist!

[inviberu]

not so fast.

Once, he was left alone by someone who he thought would stay with him forever. 'Humans are so... fickle,' he thinks. And there was no way—absolutely no way—he was going through that a second time. Not when it's you, of all people.

Note: Written for my friend, @bobaryn ! Happy Birthday again, I hope I did Mithryn justice 🥺❤️

i. mimi-chan's problems

Mithra, the second strongest wizard in the world, only second to Oz. A Northerner at the very core, egoistic and relies on brute strength to solve all of his problems without thinking twice about the alternatives. Mithra… the man who now stood in front of Ryn's door, waiting patiently for her to come out. Or maybe that wasn't the case at all—he wasn't a very patient man, after all.

Birthdays, birthdays… How curious. Mithra never striked anyone as the type to celebrate anyone's birthday no matter how close they were; troublesome as they are. One year meant nothing to a wizard, a year can pass by in a blink of an eye but perhaps what makes it different this time is that the one he holds closest to his heart is not a wizard but, in fact, a human.

Humans barely reached a hundred years. And even then, they would be too old to the point that Mithra thinks that they're just walking corpses. It didn't matter much to him before, there was no reason for him to think about the lives of humans when he was too busy trying to kill Oz. But to think that something as trivial as this would scare him—Owen and Bradley would laugh at him to no end.

Humans barely reached a hundred. Humans. Ryn. Ryn, his love, was a human. Was she to turn into a walking corpse one day as well? Humans were much more fragile. One small push and there was the tiniest bit of chance that they would fall to their doom and die.

'Fickle… How so very fickle,' Mithra thought. As much as he didn't like to admit it, the thought scared him. If it was possible, he didn't want to celebrate her birthday at all because all it did was remind him that she was aging and her lifespan is reduced by a year yet again. She can't leave him, he wouldn't let her even if she wanted to.

Although it's very difficult, there was a way for wizards to make a concoction to prolong a human's life. Mithra would travel to every nook and cranny of the world just to find the ingredients, it was a small price to pay for her unchanging affection that would preferably last a thousand years. Even though these were his current thoughts, he quickly got reminded that Ryn did not like it whenever he talked about this kind of thing during her birthday.

It felt too depressing for a supposedly happy occasion like a birthday. Mithra could only let out a sigh and threw his head back, crossing his arms as he tried to think of various ways to bring the topic up without accidentally dampening the mood.

… Wait. Why is he thinking so much? Sometimes even Mithra himself gets baffled whenever he realizes just how much he cares about the Sage. It felt unbelievable to some degree and at times, he wanted to get rid of her and his feelings but thankfully the more sane side of him won that internal debate. Love. What a despicable thing. Mithra wanted to throw it outside the window.

Feelings were a hindrance. They do nothing but make him feel vulnerable and weak. They become weaknesses—

"Mimi-chan, I'm sorry for making you wait!"

—and give him something to protect.

And there was his precious gem right in front of him, standing tall and proud. Beautiful as ever as it shined brightly with that smile of hers. Mithra stared at her blankly.

"Is that a new outfit?"

"Yeah! I thought that I should change my outfit a bit since it's my birthday after all." Ryn replied enthusiastically. Mithra smiled gently.

"It suits you."

ii. mimi-chan's hometown

"Was there a particular reason why you chose to come here of all places during your birthday?" Ryn would've froze to death had it not been for the fact that she was sticking to Mithra like glue with magic to keep her warm. No sounds could be heard as white stretches as far as the eye can reach; the North always felt so frightening.

But even frightening things have their own charms no matter how they look to people. The deathly white felt ethereal to some extent, like an untouchable beauty that can kill you within seconds. Seeing the world through rose-tinted glasses has its perks.

"Because it's where you grew up. Last time we went here, we couldn't go to the land of the dead, right? I thought that maybe I can use this opportunity to go there with you today. Do you not want to?"

"... No, I'd be happy to." Mithra's eyes widened. "But are you sure this is how you want to spend your birthday…?"

"I want to know more about you, what better way than to go to where you grew up? Plus, you seemed really happy when I told you I wanted to visit last time…"

Mithra smiles. Why is it that she focuses on him during her birthday of all days? It wasn't as if he minded it though, he was glad to have the opportunity to show her around. He let out a satisfied sigh as he grabbed her hand and started to walk across the surface of the lake.

"Alright. I'll have you know everything about me."

"W-Wait, Mimi-chan!" She couldn't slow him down. Not when he was absolutely ecstatic to show her the land of the dead. Her embarrassed face was left unnoticed by him.

iii. mimi-chan's promise

Perhaps the real challenge for Mithra was the fact that he still couldn't find the perfect time to tell her about that concoction even as they continued to wander around the North Country. There wasn't much to fear when the second strongest wizard is by your side but maybe he was the one with fears this time around. His hand wrapped around hers… it felt so small and fragile as if she could break any moment.

The scenery of her smiling happily amidst the snow, it was something he hoped he would never forget knowing that poor memory of his. If she were to leave this world one day, would he forget her name as well? It disturbed him. Why was he so disturbed? Love? Was love supposed to instill this much fear in him?

"Mimi-chan, I think it's time to leave—" Before she could finish her statement, Mithra grabbed her wrist.

"Don't leave." Ryn stared at him, baffled. Without another word, she wrapped her arms around his torso and buried her face into his chest.

"I'm not going anywhere." She reassured him.

"... Can you promise me that?"

"As long as you promise me something too. Promise me that you'll stay with me for a thousand years to come."

Mithra paused. A gentle smile taking over his lips.

"I promise."

He had another weakness yet again. Though, this time, it didn't feel bad. It was a small price to pay for an eternity with her, after all.

[babyyweebbitch]

So I saw ur last post about Izuku as a dad, but I want a bit of angst. Could you do the main 3 (Izuku, Todoroki, Bakugo) if something bad happened to their kid? Like if they were kidnapped by villains or they got hurt- I’m just in the mood for some heartbreak rn 😞

Sorry in advance if I make these too depressing (also sorry for it taking so long, I’ve been stressed)

genre: angst; fluff (only at the ends of these)

warnings: kidnapping; bullying; nomus; near death

pronouns for reader: they/them

for this one I’ll make them older since I want the kid to be in their teens for these ones — I’d feel too bad if it was an actual child (also I kinda did something and made nomus slightly easier to kill 😁)

characters: shoto; izuku; katsuki

Bakugo (bullies...)

Bakugo was at home while his wife was at work and his 15 year old was at school. Sitting at the table it was about time for his kid to come home and he wanted to talk about their day and eat dinner together but they were almost an hour late and he started worrying since they wouldn’t answer his calls or text

Around 5:15 the door bursting open and Bakugo stood up ready to fight thinking it was a villain but it was his kid — Their clothes were ripped, bruised, bleeding and crying. Stumbling inside they fell to the floor and whimpered in pain

“What the fuck?!” Katsuki basically yelled as he ran over to them and sat them up. He was so pissed off to the point he was so close to setting off explosions “What the hell happened?!”

“T-they... jumped me on my way home... and stole some of my stuff” They say as they start crying thinking about it, Bakugo picked them up and held them in his arms as he walked to the bathroom and placed them down on the toilet which was closed

His main priority right now was to take care of them and clean them up, attend their wounds. He’ll deal with the bullies later. Quickly running out the bathroom to grab one their big shirts and underwear (and bra if you’re a girl), then first aid kit

So much was going through his mind as he looked for everything, he was so pissed people can do something so disgusting to someone so kind like his son/daughter. He was mainly pissed at the fact he couldn’t protect them when it happened

Once returning he got them all washed in a warm Bath, cleaned and covered their wounds, once everything was taken care of he picked them up and took them to their room so they can rest, even gave them their favourite stuffed animal they’ve had since they were a baby

“I’ll check on you later...” placing a kiss on their head he walked out to call the school and once his wife got home he told her everything, she came into their room so worried only to see them sleeping peacefully.

The bullies ended getting expelled and time in juvenile hall since it was after school hours and they (you) moved schools

Deku (kidnapping...)

Deku was at home when he got a text from an unknown number, at first he was gonna delete it but he didn’t because he had a strange feeling he should look at it, once he did his heart nearly stopped when he saw a photo of his 16 year old son/daughter tied up on the floor in underwear (and bra if you’re a girl)

Then a text underneath read ; “We’re borrowing them for a little bit. If you want them back come find us. Don’t worry they aren’t hurt that badly. They’re still breathing — LOV”

Surprisingly they said who they were, Deku immediately got up and ran out the door, he wasn’t even thinking about anything anymore. His kid was the only thing he cared about right now

He didn’t care if it took him days to find them — As long as they are okay thats all that matters, thankfully it only took him a few hours to find exactly where they were and when he did he didn’t hesitate at all to fight everyone of them off

After he was done fighting he immediately picked his son/daughter up and ran to safety, taking off his shirt to give to them and he ran to the closet hospital to see if they had any serious injuries

“Don’t worry, dad’s got you. We’ll get you all checked up and we can go home to relax there” Deku was always so gentle and kind with his kid, even if they did something wrong.

“I-I love you dad...”

Shoto (nomu)

This one kinda long oops 😀

Shoto and his 15 year older son/daughter were having a nice day out that day, they got ice cream together, went to an arcade, they got a new stuffed animal that they put in the car at the mall so they didn’t get tired walking with it

Just when you thought things couldn’t get bad — It did. A bunch of villains attacked the mall with two Nomus, one Nomu on each side of the mall. There was a shit ton of chaos happening and after about a few minutes of trying to fight off the nomus and villains something happened Shoto was scared shitless of happening. His kid was hurt pretty badly by one of the Nomus trying to protect a civilian from it

They were punched so hard in the stomach they flew to the wall and hit it pretty hard, somehow a piece of glass cut them on the face and a few broken bones — Their breathing was slow... so much blood was near them and Shoto legitimately thought they died until they moved just a bit

Paramedics came and so did a few heros, fighting off the nomus and Villains so that Shoto could get to his kid. Paramedics got them into their truck attached to so many different machines in one small truck

“What do you mean I can’t go in there with them?! That’s my fucking kid!” Shoto rarely lost his temper and yelled and cussed but he was so worried he had to.

“Sir, you can follow us there” was the last thing one of the paramedics said before closing the door and they sped away, Shoto ran as fast as he possibly could to his car and got inside, going over the speed limit to get to the hospital faster, surprisingly didn’t get pulled over on his way there

After about a few hours of waiting to see his kid to see if they were okay a nurse came out to him

“Mr Todoroki?” She called out, Shoto stood up so fast he also passed the fuck out from it

“Are they okay?!”

“They’re doing good, they’re awake. But three things we need to tell you; on the way here they did die for about a minute but they came back. We were pretty shocked to see that happen, they have a pretty big scar on their eye, but nothing we couldn’t fix! And lastly they have a broken arm and rib. You can go see them”

Shoto nodded at this information and he went to grab the stuffed animal he brought in from the car so he had something to hug, walking to the room that they were in he broke into tears seeing them

“Oh thank god you’re okay!” He said going over to grab onto their non injured hand

“Dad... I—“ they said as they felt tears build up in their eye, they held his hand tightly and smiled very softly — Still in pain when they did “I told you you’re not getting rid of me that easy, I’m staying forever” They said in reassurance as if they were the parent

If it’s horrible I’m sorry 😭

[creepypasta-headcanons]

How you met them

Jeff:

Your parents had to send you to a boarding school due to them being extremely busy with their jobs and them wanting a very intelligent and we'll behaved kid.

Well, things never went like that. Your first weeks in that place were decent, but with the passing of the days, the teachers started to show their true colors.

Some of them were nice, others way more strict but still friendly...and the PE teacher. The school assigned your group a male weird teacher, that was cool with you on your first classes, and then things got perverted.

You wanted to get out of that place and he was the main reason, but also your only hope. He said he would run away with you and be happy, and that's what you did...well, with the exception you tried to knock him out to have time to escape using a fire extinguisher, but it seems that you hit him way too hard in the head.

Luckily you were able to run away fast, and you decided to hide inside an old looking house. Karma, that house was the one where Jeff and his brother grew up together. Jeff was casually walking around the place, and he saw something moving.

He was ready to kill you but then he saw your face, your expression...your eyes.

There was murder in your eyes. Your soul was no longer pure.

“—What the fuck do you think you're doing inside my house? —”

“—GAH! I am so sorry, please, don't tell anyone I'm here...they'll lock me up oh my god. —” And then, you fainted. Jeff took a deep breath to calm his anger, and decided to take you to the Creepyhouse to torture you.

At the end of the day, he never harmed you. He literally just forgot that you were in his room chained up to the wall and your mouth covered with masking tape because Eyeless Jack wanted to show him a dead squirrel that he found earlier.

Later, he went to his room and decided that before killing you he would chat a little bit to know why were you inside his old home.

Nina:

You talked to her at school before, but when she appeared in the news something was extremely off.

"—Someone or something is watching me... —” you thought. The feeling was uneasy but somehow safe.

Later at night, you were laying in your bed crying. You missed Nina. A lot, even if you two chatted a little bit at school.

You were sobbing terribly.

“—...Nina, please...I hope you are okay now... —”

After that sentence, a very loud sound startled your ears. You sat up in your bed and looked at the door: Nina.

“—Please, come with me. We'll live a better life now. —” you had to admit that your decision was kinda weird and stupid. You were living a cool life now, why would you start another one with her?

Oh, yeah, probably because she is holding a knife to your throat.

Eyeless Jack:

You were carefully walking through the forest, looking for some animals to kill. This was your only source of food due to your house and family being far away from everything in a little abandoned town.

You found a rabbit and tried to shoot at it with a big rock but it ran away. You gave the first step to run behind it but unluckily you stepped on a trap that tied you to a nearby tree with a chain.

Three hours passed, and the sun was going down. You were extremely hungry, dizzy and scared. The fact that you heard heavy footsteps didn't help at all.

“—Oh, cool. —”, you heard someone say out loud.

“— Can you please get me te fuck out of here? I am so hungry I think I'm going to die, oh God. —” your stomach growled loudly.

The strange masked guy walked slowly to you, and lowered his head to your ear.

“— Would you eat... something weird? —”, okay, this dude's vibes are extremely off.

“— I'll eat anything. —” and with you saying this, he pulled from his blue hoodie something that looked like a human organ. Ok, now you were scared shitless.

“— E A T. —” he said while getting that thing in his hand closer to your mouth.

You ate it all. What the fuck.

He took you to an abandoned place and when he asked if you wanted to stay here you showed that you didn't really care about your family or friends, proving him that you are one of them.

Sally:

You had a sister that was similar to her, but one day, she was kidnapped from school. This bad news affected your whole family and life.

One family in particular never gave up. Nope, it wasn't your family, they were the Williams.

A couple that once had a beautiful and innocent child, a family that broke apart because of a dirty man that ruined their lives, a family nobody really talked to due to the depressed aura around them. A family that had a daughter.

You always loved them because of the way the acted towards you. They treated you like you were one of them. They told you about their dead daughter and why they wanted to help you.

Still looking for your sister, you decided to have some time alone, some distraction. You went to the graveyard to talk to Sally's tombstone to tell her what's happening right now and how you feel about it.

You found it. It was kinda isolated, away from the other graves. This one had dead tulips, now you're replacing them with fresh and beautiful white roses.

“— H-Hi, Sally...I... —” you felt dumb, and numb.

“— I wanted to talk to you about my life. I know we never met, but I'm pretty sure you were a beautiful and full of life young girl. Your parents miss you so much, and that's why I'm here. My little sister...she....she was kidnapped some month ago and I-I'm really scared about what could be happening to her right now and I-If she's being raped, or if someone is selling her, or...or...—”, the ambience was weird. You took a deep breath.

“— what if she's dead? —” you were sobbing right now.

Something poked your leg.

“— Let me help you. —” when you looked down, you were met by two beautiful green eyes. Sally is by your side.

“— Go to the Michael's Mafia House. He has your sister. I'll bring some friends to help you, okay?—” you hugged her. Her voice was similar to your little sister's one.

Sally disappeared and adrenaline was running through your veins. You went to your house and immediately started looking for one of your favorite knifes from your dad's collection. When you were passing by the living room, you saw your beloved mother lying on the old couch, staring at your sister's picture. You smiled.

You started running towards the place Sally told you to.

The friends she was talking about were some creepypastas, they helped you to get to the boss office and encouraged you to kill him, wich you did. And you enjoyed every single second of it.

At the end, you found the place were your sister was kept captive and freed her and the other people trapped in there. She had clear signals of abuse like the other victims. You felt so angry, but she was okay. Everything was going to be better now, right?

Well, no. The rest of the mafia started looking for you and your family, and they had to move. Things were never the same, you started killing all the guys that showed up to your door to harm your people, and this interested Slenderman.

You ended up visiting the creepyhouse once a month because you had to stay with your family to protect them from the mafia.

Slenderman:

This is the same story as Sally's one. Sometimes you bring your sister with you to play with Sally, and while they played you talked with Slenderman about a plan to get rid of all those mafia members.

He wanted to help since he saw your potential, but he thought that the fact you had to protect your family slowed down your progress at training to be a murderer.

You felt extremely satisfied when you killed, and this was the other reason why you wanted to keep training with him apart of wanting to protect your family at all costs.

_______

I'm sorry if there are some misspellings or weird incoherences, english is not my first language and I made this blog because I wanted to practice my English, writing and drawing skills all at once lmao

[didimentionthatimawriter]

Heads up, this is a long post, but it's important. Please read it. Some people may have been able to guess this based on the last couple of posts I've shared, but I figured I should make an official post about it here. 

In January I got officially diagnosed with Moderate ADHD, Predominately Inattentive (for anyone who doesn't know, this is what used to be known as ADD, but it recently was grouped with ADHD because of the similar symptoms). What this means is I have a hard time focusing and paying attention, have problems with forgetfulness, but I'm not as hyperactive as other people with ADHD might be.

This isn't something that I've caught or developed, this is something that I've had all my life and it went unnoticed. I still remember getting in trouble when I was in elementary school because I was really slow at doing assignments and could never finish anything on time because I spent the whole time daydreaming instead. To this day I have a really hard time paying attention in lectures without daydreaming, doing something else like doodling or writing notes for a story, or getting very restless and fidgety. 

How did I not get diagnosed until now? It's actually very common for women with ADHD, especially the inattentive kind, not to get diagnosed until they are adults. Girls with ADHD in particular go under the radar because of this stigma that ADHD makes a kid (usually a boy) super hyperactive and you can't get them to sit down and be quiet unless you give them a pill. Kids with inattentive ADHD are mostly just brushed off as ditsy daydreamers who need to get their heads out of the clouds, but it's not that easy. Sometimes, sitting down to listen to a lecture or get a task done is physically difficult. 

I didn't get diagnosed until recently because I had been able to cope with my symptoms for the most part. I made decent grades, I had strategies to force myself to pay attention, I had study groups to go to where I had to make myself do work. The biggest problems I faced were that tasks took me so much longer than everyone else to do and I still daydreamed a lot, but even that was used to my advantage since I pursued writing fiction.

Everything that happened with Covid-19 and quarantine took away all the structure and routine I was used to, and my symptoms got worse. Then I moved out, got an apartment in a whole new city with whole new people, a job, entered a Master's program, all without an established routine to get my feet on the ground. Suddenly doing a reading for class or writing a 200 word discussion post was impossible, or would take me three times longer than everyone else did. It could take me three hours to read and annotate a 20 page article. I had major imposter syndrome, my anxiety got worse, I started having very bad depressive episodes, and I couldn't cope with anything anymore. This led to a decline in my physical health, too. I remember it got so bad I once went a week without showering because I either didn't have the energy to or I just forgot to. 

I only ever considered ADHD after one of my friends who had been diagnosed with it recognized some of the symptoms in me and suggested I get tested. I did, despite people (including myself) trying to convince me there was no way I had it, and it came back positive. I also got diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder. 

I'm not sharing this for people to pity me or worry about me. I'm fine. I'm getting help and learning how to cope with this, (and I've made a lot of improvements), and I'm hoping that when the pandemic is officially over and I can get a routine back in place it will be easier to manage. I'm sharing all of this to stress how important this is and I want to help raise awareness for it. People who weren't diagnosed and given treatment as kids often develop anxiety and depression because they have such a hard time keeping up with the pressures of everyday life. Statistically, the links between mood disorders and ADHD make adults with ADHD 14% more likely to attempt suicide than people without it, and it's especially bad for women.  (Source here: https://www.usnews.com/news/health-news/articles/2020-12-29/adhd-raises-adult-suicide-risk-especially-for-women )

The best thing we can do to make those numbers go down is to recognize it and treat people for it before they develop those other disorders, and the first step is to get rid of the stigma that goes along with it. ADHD isn't always a kid unable to stay in their seat or blurting out in a discussion, (in fact, some of those kids may not even have it and are just disregarded and given pills to make them manageable, but that's a whole other issue).

ADHD is having 500 different thoughts running through your head at once that you can't drown out. It's spending days obsessing over whatever your hyper fixation is on and forgetting about your immediate responsibilities and relationships. It's having a decent vocabulary but forgetting most of it or mis-speaking  when you're trying to write or talk to someone. It's experiencing a lot of stress and anxiety about tests or projects with time limits. It's forgetting people's birthdays or not talking to an old friend for a long time even though you miss them because they aren't there with you and your mind is on other things. It's procrastinating working on big projects because there are so many things to do now that something due not now doesn't feel as important, (then promptly getting extremely stressed out when that big project is due soon and you haven't even started on it). It's getting so overwhelmed with the things you need to do that you disassociate and can't get out of bed. It's becoming paralyzed with indecision. It's spending more time preparing for a task than actually doing the task. It's wanting to do your best but not having the capabilities to do it. 

ADHD is hard to deal with, but it does not make someone any less of a person. I'm not ashamed of it, but I want people to understand it and learn how to work with people with it. People with ADHD aren't lazy or uncaring, they just don't think the same way as normal people.

[andrebearakovsky]

Folks, I promised you an essay with all my thoughts and feelings, and I'm giving you an essay with all my thoughts and feelings. Buckle your seatbelts because we are going on a bumpy ride. My essay, directed to GMBM.

I'm going to start off with: this trade makes absolutely no fucking sense. PARTS of it, maybe, but as a whole? No fucking way. The Caps sent a HUGE package to the Wings. They sent off Vrana, Panik, a 2021 1st, AND a 2022 2nd. For just Mantha. I don't know about you, but that seems EXTREMELY lopsided. Like Mantha's good I guess, but not enough to command ALL that. And he's signed for three more years beyond this, which like as face value demands a little bit more in return, but once again, not ALL that!!!

I'm gonna be honest I could not tell you much of anything about Mantha and how good he is. I see highlights of him sometimes, which means he's got some talent, but like he's still a big question mark. And he's a big power forward, which like on the one hand fits the model of the Caps, but on the other hand you ALREADY have SO MANY dudes on your roster who do exactly what he does. Vrana gave you speed and skill which you didn't have with just about anyone else on the roster, and now you have barely any of that which concerns me.

I have some serious concerns about the direction the team is going with this move. This team is OLD and SLOW. There's something to be said for experience but uhhhhh. The ENTIRE roster can't be old that's not a good move. And by trading Vrana you get rid of someone who is the opposite of both of those things, which was adding balance to your roster. And like Mantha's not old, he's 26, but that's still older than Vrana, who is 25. You're not helping yourself here. AND getting rid of this year's first when your roster is old as dirt is REALLY concerning to me. AND you're gonna be slower, did I mention that? Which also concerns a LOT. The only one here with any speed at all now is Carl Hagelin. Which is like. Alarming. I see teams like the Rangers skate around them and make them look like fools and this is not going to help.

So I guess my main point here on the logic side is that I don't understand the point? How are you improving? You're not getting anything new; everything he brings is something you already have. The fact that they traded Vrana is not exactly surprising, given his diminished ice time and recent scratches, but what they traded him for doesn't make sense.

And like I'm not SUPER upset Richard Panik is gone, he wasn't adding a whole lot to the lineup, but I am gonna be sad about the fucking destruction of the Czechoslovakian Mafia. You took away their leader (Vrana) and destroyed it in one fell swoop. I know all the Czechs and Slovaks were all friends so that aspect in them being gone makes me sad.

NOW it's time for my feelings. FIRST of all, how DARE you!!! How D A R E you!!!!!! I love that sweet boy!!! No thoughts head empty!!! An absolute delight!!!!!! His facial expressions so good, his interviews so funny, and I just!!! Seeing him always made me smile!!!!! And now I am ANGRY and HURT and UPSET and DEPRESSED!!!!! How DARE you take this joy away from me!!!!!!!!!!!!! FUCK YOU. I have so many good memories of him during the Cup run and now I think of them and want to cry. I get no more Jakub memories now. And you, personally, ruined this.

More hurt feelings: Vitek Vanecek and Jakub Vrana have been very close buddies since they were drafted in the same draft in 2014. They're both Czech, and they both came up in the system together. Joined at the hip in the minors. There was one prospect camp where Jakub fuckin translated everything for Vitek because Vitek like hardly knew any English at that point (there's even a sweet moment in this video when Jakub asks also-a-tiny-prospect-at-that-point Pheonix Copley to make sure Vitek gets to all the right goalie stuff). Jakub made it to the NHL much earlier, but when Vitek finally, finally, FINALLY got his break and made it to the NHL, Jakub was SOOOO happy for him!! And they were finally going to be able to live out the dream and play in the NHL together on the same team and you RIPPED THAT AWAY YOU FUCKING BASTARD.

My feelings are big hurt. You can't just trade Madison Bowey and then Christian Djoos and then Jakub Vrana on THREE CONSECUTIVE TRADE DEADLINES that's just illegal to my feelings. And a hate crime. I remember this article about all three of them coming up together in 2017-18 and now I'm extremely upset again. The ONLY silver lining here is that Christian Djoos is also in Detroit so he and Vrana will get to be reunited (unfortunately they missed Bowey by just a hair; the Wings didn't sign him over the offseason, so he went to Chicago and then today just got traded to Caps West in Vancouver).

You know I really thought the Raffl trade was the trade I was going to get Big Mad over today, but I literally didn't even get a chance to be mad about that. That one's fine I guess, a nothing move really. He's Austrian, and the Caps do love to collect their different nationalities. However I am still concerned about the age; the Caps trade two of their youngest players in Vrana and Siegenthaler for two players in Mantha and Raffle who are older. Mantha's not MUCH older but it's still older and a little bit concerning.

Also, Mantha is signed for SO MANY MORE YEARS. And like ugh I don't know if I want that. I know nothing about him but three more years sounds UGH right now. I don't want it. Go away. I get the feeling I'm gonna feel about him like I feel about Nick Jensen: you were traded for and replaced a sweet boy that I loved, so now you are my enemy. It's no fault of your own, but you're my enemy. I at least hope you're better at hockey than Nick Jensen.

Oh, and one more thing: the deadline came and went, you made all these moves and STILL DIDN'T GET A FUCKING DEPTH CENTER. You got TWO WINGERS. GMBM did you not see the circus that was the "everyone is hurt and we're resorting to having TJ Oshie play center" part of the season? If there was going to be ONE thing I would have asked for at the deadline, it would have been a depth center. Because currently on your roster you have literally no money to call anyone up, and if any one of the four centers go down it's big trouble, and TJ should NOT be playing center again!!!!!! Dear god!!! You failed on your one (1) task!!! Neither of these guys you got are centers!!!! What are you doing!!!!!!!

GMBM…blockbuster moves at the deadline have never been your forte. Remember the disaster that was the Kevin Shattenkirk trade? Stop doing this shit. You know what works? Supplemental moves that don't disrupt the balance of the whole team. Stick to the Brenden Dillon and Carl Hagelin level trades. You know what your gold mine of a deadline trade was? The Michal Kempny trade. Which was, surprise, a supplemental move and not a blockbuster one. And I'm gonna tell you that outright: you're never going to strike oil like that again. Not ever again. A Michal Kempny only happens once. Please stop trying to force something magic to happen by doing something crazy and stupid. You can't just go LOOKING for a Michal Kempny on purpose, and the big trades where you ship off an important, beloved top 6 member of your team is certainly not where you're going to find it. I'm just…stop.

Frankly, GMBM, I'm getting tired of you. You've tested my patience. You emotionally destroyed me to my core with the Marcus Johansson trade (which I STILL have not forgiven you for, and never will), and banishing Vrana to Detroit of all places might be the last straw. I'm gonna say the same thing I always do when trades like this happen: prove me wrong. I fuckin DARE you to prove me wrong. I for one am VERY displeased with this move in every possible way, both in my feelings and my logical hockey brain. Show me that I am wrong, otherwise it's going to be bad news for you in the future. I really think you made the wrong, wrong move here.

[pastelsandpining]

Belongings

A BotW Post-Calamity Zelink hurt/comfort one shot

Summary: Zelda struggles to find her place in this time she should not be a part of, and she doesn’t understand how Link makes it look so easy.

Words: 8156

Warnings: blood mention, depression, honestly not sure what else to add here so proceed with caution and let me know of anything I need to tag!

tagging @etiquetteemotions :) I hope you enjoy!

When she watched him, she wanted to be upset that he couldn’t remember everything. It wasn’t his fault of course, and she knew he was probably facing deep turmoil for it, but she still cried out for the knight she fell in love with. Yet she couldn’t be upset, because he smiled now. He seemed so free of the burden on his shoulders all that time ago. He smiled and laughed and talked.

But it was never with her. Not the way it was with everyone else. 

She saw how he interacted with Sidon and Riju and Yunobo and Paya. She saw how he spoke to stablemen and village people. She saw how his smile was wider, his eyes were brighter, and it was a stark contrast to when he was with her. 

At least, she thought so. Because when he looked at her, his eyes seemed distant. His smiles didn’t reach her heart like they used to. And when he touched her or held her or did anything of the sort, he was so careful. Like he was afraid she’d break apart if he were to touch her in any other way.

There were many times when Zelda felt like she would never fit in with this new life. That she would never connect with Link in his Hateno house, or fit in with all of his new friends, or be anything other than Princess Zelda. Sure, helping Purah and Robbie with research and talking with Impa brought her back down to Hyrule—made her believe that it wasn’t as bad as she thought it was. But then she would return to Link’s home, eat dinner across from what might as well have been an empty chair, and lay in bed, feeling the hopelessness wrap around her like a weighted blanket. 

Some nights, she would feel Link’s arms hugging her ever so gently, and she’d think that maybe it wasn’t so bad.

And then the morning would come and she would wake up alone. 

Maybe it was her. Maybe she’d just become... unreachable. With nothing but the Calamity to keep her company for a century, maybe she’d changed without realizing it. Or maybe she was just a reminder to everyone about what the Calamity had done—how she failed them all the first time. Had it not been for Link, Hyrule would’ve been devastated beyond hope of returning.

The Hero of Hyrule. The savior of them all. Even her. 

And after a century of growing doubts and fading hope, she supposed she would be different too. But her difference didn’t come with the freedom his did. Because Link had done everything right up until the very end. She did nothing right until there was nothing left to do.

There was nothing left to do. No pieces to pick up and put back together—not here. Not in Hateno. 

And after staring at a page filled with scratch outs and unfinished sentences, Zelda decided there was really nothing she could say. Nothing but a sincere thank you, and a hope that his life of newfound freedom would bring him nothing but happiness. So that was all that she left behind. 

Her hands were scraped and blistered from the hours she spent yanking at rubble, at the cave in that cut off the entrance to her bedroom. It was the first place she wanted to see, even though she couldn’t imagine it looked very good. Link said he’d gotten in through climbing, but she certainly didn’t have the upper body strength to climb the tower to her study. She was left with no choice but to use a rusty old sword she’d found to try and help her loosen the rocks and stone and dirt. And she’d done a decent enough job too, or at least that’s what she wanted to believe. The most she’d done was get the rubble to crumble and slide just enough for her to be able to squeeze between the top of the pile and the ceiling. 

Zelda let out a slight scream when the rock beneath her hand gave out and she went sliding head first down the rubble, into her room.

It was completely trashed, which she’d sort of expected. But seeing it was a different story. Her living space, what she’d called home for her whole life, was reduced to practically nothing. Her bed had collapsed in on itself, her papers and books were yellowed and ripped, the staircase to her study was completely gone, and it looked so sad and empty. Yet she had seen so much destruction that she could not bring herself to mourn any more than she already had. 

She ran her fingers through the layer of dust on her vanity. Her mirror was cracked, and spiders had taken over. Her rugs were torn and looked to be burnt up, and the only thing that looked truly intact was the Royal Guard’s Bow above her fireplace, that Link had gifted her a century ago.

She peered out to her balcony, and then up at the missing staircase. Going to her study was out of the question entirely, so she supposed she’d have to wait until the staircase was rebuilt. At least she still had her journal, which Link was kind enough to recover for her. 

She busied herself by carefully pulling down the time-worn papers above her desk. The edges crumbled under her fingers, but her writings and drawings remained untouched—other than the fading. She set them down on her desk in a neat stack and gathered the ones from the floor, then set the paperweight on top of them. Then she got to work on pulling her small, circular table back upright. She pulled the yellowed table cloth off of it and tossed it into a corner. Soon, the pieces of broken chair joined it. 

Her bed was going to be a little tougher to deal with, so she stuck to small things for now. Picking up what rubble she could, using the sword to knock down spider webs, throwing everything she didn’t want to keep into the pile. But it didn’t look like she’d done anything. Maybe her room was also too far gone for her to do anything with.

But to rebuild everything from start..? 

No, not for her room or study. She could manage. But the rest of the castle—she could gather people willing to help. Gorons, Sheikah—all of Hyrule could help if they were willing.

She could invite the Sheikah to return and implement their technology—or at least encourage them to return to creating, and use that in the restoration of Hyrule. She could take the kingdom a step further than it was before, bring it into an entire new age with the help of those her family had wronged.

With the ideas filling in her head, Zelda fished her journal from the bag she carried and quickly scribbled down everything she was thinking of. 

Gorons to help get rid of the rubble. The Bolson Construction Company could work with the Sheikah to create new floor plans and interior designs. The Zora could bring their designs in too, and incorporate the beautiful luminous stones that lit their architecture.

But how would she go about bringing this up to them? She would have to go up to all of the leaders individually—which was not an issue, since she’d been considering going to each region to propose the permanent station of the Divine Beasts as memorials for the Champions. That would be another thing to the list. 

Zelda paced in her room, relaxing into something that felt familiar to her. Brainstorming, keeping herself busy. She could bring in Purah and Robbie to help rebuild the Research Lab too, which sent a flood of excitement through her.

Maybe once she thought she could stay away, but this was where she belonged. She had a duty to her people, to her kingdom, and she refused to fail them again. She refused to sit idly because of what she’d been through. She wasn’t the only one, so she had no right to sit and sulk. Hyrule needed her.

Didn’t it..?

Zelda’s pacing slowed, and she looked back towards the pile of rubble with a frown.

Did Hyrule need her?

Now that the threat of Calamity Ganon was gone, was she really of any use? A century without rule seemed to do Hyrule just fine—even if the kingdom was only beginning to recover. The four regions were thriving well on their own, under their own leaders. And the remaining Hylians—what did they truly need her for? Other than reconstruction, but even then, did they need her for that? She could propose ideas all she wanted, but she could do very little with her hands. 

And now that it was safe for Hyrule to begin rebuilding, who’s to say they wouldn’t? Who’s to say they wouldn’t rebuild on their own? There were brilliant minds out there that didn’t need her permission or her ideas.

Zelda took a slow seat into the red velvet chair and looked around her crumbling room again. 

Did she not belong here either..?

There was no one. Her father—everyone within the castle walls had perished when Ganon rose. Sadness and bloodshed were embedded deep in the walls of this place. There was no one left to tell her how to be a queen, how to rebuild a kingdom. She’d spent her entire life devoted to awakening a sealing power that came all too late. Her father had been right, it seemed. She was an heir to a throne of nothing. Nothing but failure. 

Maybe she shouldn’t have come back. But if she was the heir, didn’t she owe it to the kingdom to rot alongside that nothing? To be reminded of her failure everywhere she looked? 

She didn’t realize she was crying, screaming her voice raw, clutching her father’s journal to her chest, begging aloud to deaf ears—like she’d done for years. What she would give to feel her mother’s hugs, or Urbosa’s comfort again. What she would do to see her father again, even if he were looking down at her in his disappointment. What she would do to have someone, anyone left to guide her. 

To get an answer from Hylia about what to do now that they had won. 

But no one would hear her. 

Zelda curled up in her chair, hugging her knees to her chest, and leaned her head against the top of it. She was reduced to gasping for breath and squeezing her eyes shut, as if that would stop the flow of tears.

It was getting dark now. She’d spent hours here, but she couldn’t bring herself to move. Where would she even go if she did? 

It was getting colder. In regular circumstances, she would have someone light her fireplace. But this was not regular circumstances, and there was no one left to do anything. 

She must’ve cried herself to sleep, because she certainly didn’t remember going willingly. But instead of the nightmares, she was left with a dull ache. Nothing but darkness. Nothing but nothing.

———

When Link returned from hunting to find his house empty, he knew something was amiss. There was a sense of loneliness—the same one that filled the house when he first bought it. He didn’t quite know what to make of it, but he tried not to make assumptions. As much as he wanted to protect her, to not lose her again, he also didn’t want her to feel suffocated. Perhaps she just wanted to take a breather.

But it didn’t feel like Zelda had just gone on a short outing. It felt more like standing among a village of ruins. It felt sad and dull, like the life that once filled it took all the color with it when it left. There was something she brought with her to Hateno, and that something was gone now. Maybe he was simply overreacting, and he would find her at the lab with Purah. 

She would come back later.

Except, the minutes turned into hours and she still hadn’t returned. Link became restless, and he took his horse up to the lab to check for himself. But Purah said that Zelda hadn’t come by at all that day. 

Link raced back to his house to search for any sign of where she might’ve gone, but what he found made him feel nauseous. In her neat handwriting were the words:

Thank you for all you have done.

I wish nothing but happiness for you, and that a day will come where we can meet again.

He read the message over and over again, desperate to pry some other meaning out of it, but it was useless. He knew what she meant by this. 

From the weeks he’d spent with Zelda, to the memories he recovered of her, he knew this wasn’t like her. It wasn’t like her to disappear, or hold back whatever was on her mind. He saw how hesitant, how closed off she’d become since she gained freedom, but he always hoped that maybe she’d talk to him eventually. He shared stories of his journey, took her to see everything he’d seen, in the hopes that she would someday feel comfortable enough to speak. He never wanted to force her.

But maybe he should’ve, because she was gone.

Link didn’t bother grabbing anything other than his gear before taking off towards Kakariko. He had a feeling she wasn’t going to be hiding with Impa, but he was going to need help. 

There was only one other place she could be, but he struggled to imagine why she would return to the castle alone. Why she would suddenly leave without a word. Had he done something? Did he say something that made her want to leave? Did she feel trapped? 

He didn’t know, because she hadn’t talked to him. 

It was dusk by the time Link was finally able to set out for the castle, accompanied by Purah, Symin, Paya, and Impa. He’d been weary about so many people at first, but he let it slide for the sake of finding her before something happened. Sure, he made sure to kill every monster he found when he explored the castle, but there was no way of knowing if other monsters found their way in. Or people looking to find treasure. Or anything, really. Did she even know of the danger she was in?

Of course she did. He needed to give her a little more credit. She faced Ganon alone. Surely she could take a few monsters, or people, right? There were weapons in the castle, scattered everywhere. She would be fine, right? 

Still, Link urged Epona to go faster. They raced past Dueling Peaks, through Central Hyrule, through the gates of the castle. 

“Go,” urged Impa at his hesitation, with a nod towards the tower he’d climbed what felt both like yesterday, and a year ago. “We’ll find our way. Take this. Go find her.”

Link took the damp towel and bandages into his hands and slipped them into his bag before turning on his heel and sprinting towards the tower. He knew at the top would be the study, and the bridge that led to her room. Would she be there..? He couldn’t imagine how she’d accessed it, but no one knew this castle better than Zelda. He was sure there were ways in even he didn’t know about.

The pattern of the stone bricks underneath his hands and feet were familiar as he scaled his way up the tower, going as fast as he could. With no guardians to shoot him down, he was able to reach the midpoint and use Revali’s Gale to get him the rest of the way—at least, to the open window. The study looked as empty and depressing as ever. Zelda was not in here, though he wasn’t surprised. The stairway was broken, after all.

The bridge was empty too, so Link continued on to the princess’s room. 

He could spot her from a mile away. Even if it was dark, and he was descending slowly on his paraglider, he saw her curled up in that dusty chair. Part of him wondered how she got in, and the other part broke upon closer look. She was asleep, but still she looked troubled—almost like she’d been crying. And—was that her father’s journal, in her hands?

And oh, her hands. He crouched besides the chair and gently took hold of one of her wrists. He pulled it gently to him, causing her to only stir, and examined it up close.

Years of climbing experience made him recognize the blisters, but she hadn’t climbed. No, because there was dirt underneath her fingernails and under the torn skin, and there were scrapes caked with dry blood. A glance towards the rubble pile outside the doorway confirmed his suspicions. She’d dug her way in.

Link looked back to her hand and gently pressed the towel to it. She flinched away and was awake in seconds, her wide eyes searching over him like she couldn’t believe them. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

“Hi,” he said softly.

“Link,” she replied, her voice hoarse. “I-“

“Your hands,” he stated, holding one of his own out. “They’ll get infected.”

Wordlessly, Zelda placed her hand back in his. Her father’s journal rested on her lap in favor of the Sheikah Slate, which she tapped away at with her free hand. Link only looked up when he heard the familiar warping sound of an item. 

“Here,” she said softly, holding out a glass bottle filled with water. Link took it with a quiet “thanks” and dumped some on the cloth, figuring he could ask about herbs for medicine later. The priority right now was cleaning the wounds.

He dabbed at one of her palms, mumbling an apology whenever she would wince. He knew from experience that it stung, and it made him feel even worse. And the silence—it was more agonizing by the second. So he tried to fill it.

“You tidied up,” he said, nodding his head towards the trash pile.

“Hardly,” Zelda replied. “All I really managed was stacking some papers.”

“And that, if I recall correctly, is new.”

Her smile was weak and small, and hardly sincere. It didn’t belong on her lovely face. He took care with wrapping her hand and fingers, for an excuse to hold onto her a little longer. 

“I think if there wouldn’t have been a Moblin in here, it wouldn’t be as bad,” he continued, thinking back on what a scare it’d given him originally. The last thing he’d expected to find in her bedroom, a place that was supposed to be so private and safe, was a monster. But then again, a monster had long since taken over her home. “They don’t have the best manners.” 

“A Moblin?” Zelda asked, her eyebrows furrowed. 

“Not sure how it got in,” Link said with a shrug, wetting the cloth again so he could begin cleaning her other hand. 

“A century is a long time,” she replied, her voice breaking just enough to make his fingers twitch with the urge to hold her hands tighter. “There’s really no way to know if the collapse happened during... or later on. It could have found its way in at any point. You mentioned monsters of all sorts infested nearly every room.”

“Not your study. I wish I could take you see it, Zel.”

She was quiet. Link looked up at her to find her gazing at the missing staircase, but he didn’t know if she was actually seeing, or if she was lost in thought. He watched her for a moment, wondering just how much she was thinking of. What memories she must have been replaying—if they were ones he no longer had, if they included him at all. He knew he had been in her study with her at least once, if not multiple times all those years ago. Maybe he used to help her research, or kept her company while she did. He wanted to take her to her study, show her the Silent Princess that bloomed right in the middle. He could remember her mentioning prior attempts to grow them domestically and save them from extinction. Did it result from an attempt of her own, only able to actually flourish a century later?

Link returned his eyes to her hand. It was cold against his, despite what the red, irritated, and torn skin suggested. He tried to stay as gentle as possible as he wiped the grime and blood away, feeling worse every time her hand stiffened in pain. The silence was getting to him again, as was the still overhanging question of what drove her here.

“Zel..” he spoke. If she looked his way, he didn’t know. He busied himself with wrapping her hand. “I would’ve come with you.. You didn’t have to come back here alone.”

“It’s home,” she whispered out. Link glanced up at her, holding her hand just a little tighter.

“I know,” he said. “But home doesn’t have to be just one place.”

Zelda did not reply, but he could faintly hear his name being shouted. He’d nearly forgotten about the others, and clearly Zelda was as shocked as he was. But he stood from his position, letting her hand go at last, and jogged to the pile of rubble.

“—in there?” someone said, muffled by the wall of filth.

“We’re in here,” Link called back, wincing at how loud he sounded. “There’s a hole in the top that you can squeeze though, or we can try to remove more of the cave in.”

He thought he heard something like “stand back”, but he wasn’t sure until he heard a loud crash, and rubble began sliding down towards him. He backed up just in time to miss being pelted by a large rock and the rush of dirt and dust behind it. He coughed, waving his hand in front of his face to try and disperse the cloud it had created. 

“This’ll take a lot more force to clean up entirely,” came the voice of Purah after a coughing fit of her own. 

“We’ll manage,” replied Impa. Once the dust settled, the four were able to enter the bedroom at last. Link gave them all a polite nod and turned back to Zelda, who was staring at them as if they were ghosts. She looked pale.

He crouched before her again and raised the cloth to her face. When she didn’t move to pull away, he started wiping at the grime and scratches.

“This is quite the place to run off to when you’re upset,” spoke Impa again. She sounded far closer than she had before and Link had to keep his surprise that she could move that fast at bay. 

“It’s home,” Zelda repeated, adverting her eyes. Though this time, something about her voice gave away that she didn’t believe it. 

“Maybe once, a long time ago,” Impa said. 

Link raised a hand to Zelda’s cheek, holding her still while he wiped at a scratch on her forehead. She was making a point to avoid looking at anyone. She looked a little guilty, too, though he couldn’t think of why. 

“We can rebuild,” Purah promised, standing to the side of the cushioned chair. “Really, your room isn’t that far gone at all. And most of the castle structure is still intact—at least, the parts we can get to. Really, Princess, it’s not as bad as it looks.”

“That’s kind of you,” Zelda replied, but she shook her head. “But reconstruction will take years.”

“It’s not impossible,” Purah argued, grabbing the arm of the chair with her little hands. 

Link slowly lowered his hands now that Zelda’s face was, for the most part, clean. He capped what remained in the bottle and set it aside, reaching instead for the Sheikah Slate. When she didn’t stop him, he placed a hesitant hand on her knee and got to work looking through their gathered materials. He could make a healing potion for her hands with the right parts.

“No,” Zelda agreed, leaning back in the chair. “But it’s long and tedious and.. and we— I do not deserve your help.”

He furrowed his eyebrows and looked up at his princess with a frown. He wasn’t the only one, but her eyes remained stubbornly glued to the floor. An overwhelming desire to see those green eyes sparkle with happiness once again hit him, but he didn’t know what to do about it. Was it even his place?

“The concept of being ‘deserving’ of anything is silly,” spoke up Paya. Her voice was soft and rushed, like she were nervous to be speaking up to a princess. Link didn’t blame her. He felt like that too, in the beginning. “I’m sorry, Princess, but everyone deserves kindness, regardless of what they themselves think. To imply that they don’t is to say that they’re not.. human.”

“Paya is right, dear child. But I can think of no one more deserving of a comfortable home and happiness than you,” Impa said. 

Zelda looked like she was trembling. Link set down the Slate and gently took her bandaged hands in his own. Only then did she look at him, her green eyes glistening with unshed tears. The sight tore his heart in half. 

“Talk to us,” he whispered, running his thumbs over her knuckles. “To me. Please.”

He wished he could read her mind, soothe whatever fight she seemed to be having with herself. But all he could do as tears slipped down her cheeks was kneel upright against the chair and wrap her in a hug. And the journal she kept in her lap fell to the floor when she pressed closer, holding parts of his shirt in tight fists. He held her tighter, hoping just maybe, he could keep the remaining pieces of her together. 

“I’m sorry,” she said again. Link shook his head.

“Don’t apologize, please. You have nothing to be sorry for. But if there’s anything I can do-“ 

“Link, you’ve done so much.” She was looking at him again, like he were some kind of grand hero. He was, according to almost all of Hyrule. But when she addressed him as such, and looked at him as such, it was different. Like he were her hero, and hers alone. Sometimes, he wished he were. “Really, there is nothing more for you to do.”

“I can be here, with you. If you really wanted to come back, I would’ve come with you.” 

He felt like he was begging. Begging for her to still give him a place in her life. For how confused he’d been when his journey began, he felt so inexplicably complete when he finally got her back. He wanted to feel that way again—wanted her to know that feeling if she didn’t already. But he would struggle greatly with acceptance if she didn’t want his help.

“Why come back?” she asked, pulling back from his embrace and leaving him empty. She looked so sad. “The heir to a throne of nothing. Is that really who you want to follow?”

He could still hear those words, spoken originally in the gruff voice of the king. At the time, Link found him to be acting as neither a king or a father. It was cruel, to spit those words in a sixteen-year-old’s face. To relay to her what the gossip mongers said behind her back, to imply that they were correct in some sort of way. She tried all she could, but they refused to let her be of any help outside of her supposed destiny. Little did they know her destiny involved facing a great evil alone, locking herself away for over a century. And yet, all these years later, those words still bit deeply into her. Did she truly believe them? After all she had done?

Link had never once believed in those words. Though he was as clueless as anyone else on why the goddess remained silent, he instead believed that she would save them all. Her worth and ability were never tied to any sacred power. Not to him, not to her friends, and not to her father. It was just a shame the king picked so late to act like one.

He reached up to hold her face again, trying to get her to look at him. 

“I follow the princess who cared so much about her kingdom that she sealed herself away with evil incarnate for over a century. I follow the princess who worked tirelessly to fulfill her duty. I follow the princess who knelt in freezing waters for hours at a time to pray on deaf ears. I follow the princess who did everything she could, and not just because she was told to.”

“You follow a princess who killed you and countless others with her inability to do her job,” she spat, but there was no venom to her words. She just sounded.. tired. Link shook his head again, racking his brain for the right thing to say. What had he said back then, in moments like these? What would work to comfort a broken soul? 

“Please.” He was begging again. He was desperate, because her coming here alone meant more than what she was saying. “Please don’t blame yourself for the things Ganon caused. I hate to admit it Zel, but we were fucked regardless whether or not you unlocked your powers. But they don’t blame you—and neither do I.”

“But why don’t you?” Zelda asked, finding a grip on his shirt once again. “I was so cruel to you, so jealous of you.. and in the end... I don’t understand.”

“I took a vow to protect you with my life, Zelda.” He brushed his thumbs over her cheekbones, wishing he could get rid of her unshed tears that easily. “And I’d do it again. Without hesitation. Wherever you go, I will be there.”

Because without her, it felt so very empty. Even with the friendships he’d made along the way. And the why evaded him until he’d come to understand that it was better left unspoken. And the weeks spent with her in Hateno, while they tried to adjust to this world neither of them were really a part of, was when the pieces of the puzzle fell together. 

“That vow was made as a knight to a princess and a king, in preparation for the Calamity. There is no threat. There is no more king. And there is hardly a princess. But should you need it, I, Princess Zelda of Hyrule, officially release you from your vows.”

Link shook his head again, as if it could prevent the words from reaching his brain, his heart.

He felt like she was slipping right through his fingers. Just as she had with every memory along the way. One minute she would be there with her green eyes and warm, sunny smile, or annoyed glare, or concentrated expression. Then he would open his eyes and find himself alone, with any lingering warmth fleeting to join her in the castle, locked far away from him. He would look towards the castle and think of nothing but her. This Zelda that he knew long ago, this voice that compelled him to find her, this Princess that a century ago, he had fallen in love with and given his life for. And maybe his memories were fragmented, and maybe he’d never get them all back, but he was certain of that much.

“I made a promise to protect you, Zelda, princess or not. Because I want to. So if this is where you want to be,” he freed a hand to gesture to the room around them, “then I will be there too.”

“You belong to the wild,” Zelda replied simply, bringing her hands to cover his. “I can’t take you away from that.”

“Then stay with me there, please. Or, or with Impa in Kakariko, or Purah in the lab. Anything is better than here, cold and alone.” She had to know that. To return to a place of nightmares...to consider staying... Link was so afraid she was too far gone, and they hadn’t caught anything until she’d broken. 

Zelda peeled his hands from her face and shook her head. Link couldn’t find the right words, and he’d never felt so hopeless before.

“I’m afraid,” began Impa, joining them at the chair. Her wrinkled hands covered theirs. Link hoped with all his heart that they were bringing warmth back to her icy fingertips. “That her century with malice has driven the light from her mind. Princess, why have you convinced yourself that what you want is unreachable?”

Zelda recoiled at the question. Link tightened his hold on her hands ever so slightly, because he felt her trying to slip away again. 

“There are times when the darkness can extinguish the light,” she replied, tearing her green eyes away. 

“And the blame for that does not fall on your shoulders, sweet child. In fact, Hyrule would not have been able to recover at all, had it not been for your selflessness. The horrors you endured, sealed away with a beast, are something we cannot ever understand. But we can recognize that without you, Hyrule would have fallen completely to Ganon’s control. When you focus solely on your stubborn power, you ignore the other things you were able to do. Without your help, the Champions would have been unable to master their Divine Beasts.”

“The Champions are dead,” Zelda repeated, her voice trembling again. Link knew the feeling, and goddesses, how he wished he could grant her the closure he’d received. He found himself praying, begging out for Urbosa to somehow come to her aid, appear to her and let her know in a way he couldn’t that it was alright. 

“The Champions knew just what and how much they were risking when they answered your call, Princess. You chose well. But I’m afraid Link is right, Ganon would have taken them out even if you had awakened your power. The beast was prepared for our attack, and I’m afraid by following our ancestors so closely, we doomed ourselves. But the blame for that does not fall upon you.”

“But if I had just worked harder, if I had done more, prayed harder, then maybe-“

“Zelda,” Impa said, her voice stern. Even Link felt like he was being scolded, and he was nothing more than a bystander. “You gave all your efforts and in the end, prayer was hardly what woke your power.”

Her eyes drifted to Link. She looked defeated, because she did know. And so did he. When Kass relayed to him the song, he’d nearly cried. It wouldn’t have been the first of the tears shed on his journey. And it wasn’t the first time he’d learned of a princess doing something out of her love for him. He remembered quite clearly when he found out—how he spent that night asking into empty air if it were true. No answer ever came to him. 

“I know,” Zelda replied at last, ducking her head and instead looking at their hands. In two simple words, his answer had come.

“Then I trust you to make the decision you believe is best for you. But no decision should be made at this hour. I suggest we get some sleep before dawn’s light is upon us.” Impa’s hands lifted, and with a simple gesture to Paya, they disappeared through the rubble at the doorway.

“If you ever need a place to go, or someone to talk to about ideas, my door is always open. But I have to agree with my sister on this one. You should get some rest, and make your decision in the morning.” And Purah and Symin were gone as well.

Now that they were alone, Link wished he knew what to say. He wished he could leave it at that and tell her to get some sleep. But he couldn’t.

“I still don’t understand,” he said, releasing her hands so he could dig in his pockets. Zelda lifted her head to look at him, and he held up the piece of paper she’d torn out of her diary. The writing that was burned into his brain. “Why?” 

She lowered her gaze again, but she did not answer. 

“I thought you might’ve been at the lab with Purah,” Link continued to fill the silence. “And then I thought maybe you went to Kakariko, but Impa said she hadn’t seen you.”

“I’m sorry,” Zelda said softly. Her eyes were fixed on the dirty rug beneath her chair, but he could tell she was looking far past that.

“Why didn’t you talk to me..? Or say goodbye, at the very least?”

“I just.. I couldn’t,” she admitted, hugging her arms. “It would’ve made it harder.”

“How long have you been thinking of leaving..?”

“A week or so...” 

Link let out a sigh, dragging a hand down his face. He felt guilty again, for not saying anything when he first noticed her drawing back. Maybe she thought he was disappointed, because she continued,

 “I just—I didn’t know what to say. I’m sorry.”

“Did something happen, Zel..?” he asked hesitantly, lifting his gaze back to her’s. It was selfish, but part of him needed to know if it was him, or the setting. “To make you want to leave, I mean. Do you not like it in Hateno?”

“No, no-! Hateno is lovely, Link.” She straightened up, reaching out a hesitant hand towards him. But she dropped it before it made any contact. “I just...”

“You don’t have to talk to me,” Link said, lifting a hand to her face, though he desperately wanted her to. “But if there’s anything you need, please let me know. You don’t have to suffer alone.”

After a moment more, he dropped his hand to his side and picked up the Slate again. He wished there was more he could say or do, to help her. But this wasn’t something he could swing a sword at and disintegrate.

“Do you ever feel like you don’t quite belong here?” she asked, ending the stretch of silence. “Like you shouldn’t be, because you belong to a different time?”

Link looked up at her, masking his surprise that she was perhaps finally speaking what was on her mind. He nodded once, but said nothing more, urging her to continue. She did.

“At first, Hyrule didn’t look much different than it had before.. But seeing Castle Town and Central Hyrule in ruin was still... so fresh. Something that took years to build and was once full of life, was destroyed in minutes. So many lives lost... And then I find this new village—two, actually, filled to the brim with life. Like the Calamity had never touched them at all. And it was so.. different.”

“A Hyrule one hundred years later,” Link said, finding her hands again. “Toeing the line between recovery and destruction. And the only thing keeping that line steady is you.”

“I’m sorry,” Zelda said again, her hands twitching like she wanted to pull them away. “I shouldn’t be complaining when you’ve no memory of the Hyrule we were a part of all those years ago.”

“But maybe that’s a good thing,” he responded. It made her finally look at him, her eyes wide with shock. But he’d thought long and hard on it, and he was being honest.

“Link-“

“I’m serious,” he insisted. “I don’t remember everything. And it hurts sometimes, that I can’t remember everything about you, and about our friends. But I don’t feel the pain that came with fighting Ganon, or fending off guardians. I don’t feel the burden of the sword. I’m.. a little more free of that trauma than you are. For a century, you sealed yourself away with nothing but evil incarnate. And you still remembered everything you had done and been through up until that moment.”

“You make it look so easy. Living in this Hyrule, I mean. You have so many friends, you seem so comfortable and at home..”

“It’s hard not to make friends when they risk their lives to help you. And I don’t think I’d be as well off if I still remembered everything. But it’s not easy. I’m living in a world I really know nothing about. And as for home, well... it didn’t feel like home. Not until you were with me and safe.”

Zelda blinked. She looked like she wanted to cry again, but Link was being more honest than he’d ever been. Yet for some reason, a fraction of hurt took over her eyes. It was gone as quickly as it had come, but he saw it.

“You hardly know me,” she said. Even she winced at that and went to apologize, but Link held her hands a little tighter and willed her to look directly at him as he spoke, pouring everything he could into his words.

“I know that you love your people so much, you faced Ganon alone. I know that you love to research and wanted to learn as much about Sheikah technology as possible. I know you faced criticism from everyone, even your own father, but you pushed yourself to your limit anyway with a silent goddess. I know you saw me as a reminder of your own failures, and I know you tried to convince me to taste a frog. I know your favorite dessert is fruit cake, I know you had a white horse you named Storm who you struggled with at first, I know Urbosa was like a second mother to you, I know Revali annoyed you just as much as he annoyed me, I know we somehow ended up as friends, and I know what woke your powers in the end.”

Zelda looked as if she couldn’t find the words she wanted to say. It wasn’t impossible to believe, given he’d mentioned some things only someone who was close to her would know, but maybe that last part should’ve stayed to himself.

“Urbosa did always say it was quite obvious.” She shook her head and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “Did she tell you?”

“Kass did,” Link replied, adverting his eyes. He felt a little guilty to admit it. “The Rito Bard. His teacher, the court poet, set out to.. learn some ballads about the ancient hero, so he could help me. He mentioned it in his song. Though, now that I think about it, it was a little... rude. I mean, it’s no one’s business and..”

Zelda looked amused. Link forced himself to stop speaking, which was new. He was still getting used to a lot of things.

“Well, he didn’t say anything that wasn’t true. It’s better you hear it from them, than a gossip monger who has nothing better to do but impose on the life of others.”

“I’d rather hear it from you,” he replied with a shrug before he could stop himself. Even in the dim lighting of the room, he could see the way her cheeks flushed. 

“You just did,” she argued, ripping her hands away so she could cross her arms. Link held his hands up in defense. 

“All I’m saying is that having a descendant of the goddess Hylia herself love you is quite the feeling.”

“Oh, so being Zelda isn’t enough for you then? You’ve got to play the goddess card to inflate your already big head?” But there was no malice behind her words, and the faint smile on her lips was more than worth it. 

“Now I never said that,” he defended, fending off a smile of his own. “I happen to find Zelda absolutely wonderful all on her own. But having goddess powers is cool, too.”

A small giggle passed her lips. The light was returning to her eyes slowly, but progress was progress and Link was desperate to keep it up.

“I’m glad someone around here appreciates Zelda,” she joked, leaning back in her chair once again. He rested a hand on her knee and looked up at her, letting the smile onto his lips.

“Someone should tell her that she’s deserving of love, and happiness, and a fresh start too.”

Zelda’s smile was weak, but it was there. It was enough to make him swell with hope that maybe, maybe they’d figure it out eventually. But something was still eating at her. He could see it in the way she adverted her gaze again, for what seemed like the hundredth time.

“What if I don’t get along with your new friends?” she asked at last. “If I don’t fit in?”

It would’ve been rude to laugh. Her fears were absolutely valid, and he took her hands again in an attempt to show that. But it was hard for him to imagine any of his friends not getting along with Zelda. She was lovely, even after years of nothingness. He was sure she would fit in perfectly.

“Sidon will absolutely, enthusiastically praise you for every little thing you do,” Link began, counting off his closest friends. “Yunobo will bow to you with your strength, maybe even ask you to help him with his own. Riju will be the little sister you never had. And Teba may be just as proud as, but he’s less openly arrogant than Revali. They will love you, I promise.”

“And if they don’t?”

“Zel, I can’t believe you’re worried about that. If you could hold the Calamity back for a century and make me fall in love with you twice, then you can easily make friends who’ll love you just as much.”

The confession he hadn’t intended on making caused a smile to tug at the corners of her lips, and Link knew maybe, finally he’d said the right thing. He gently pulled her forwards by her hands but before he could kneel to meet her, she’d joined him on the floor. He wrapped his arms around her, pressing her into his chest with an unspoken promise to continue being by her side until the end of time.

“If you’re really ready to be here,” he whispered out, “then I’ll be here. But if you’re not, it’s never too late to come back home.”

Zelda pressed her face into his shoulder, and he leaned his head against hers, drawing gentle shapes on her back.

“Thank you for coming after me.”

“Of course. If I didn’t, people would think I was mad at my princess or something.”

Zelda let out a quiet laugh and he felt her hold him a little tighter. 

“What, so you only came after me to protect your reputation?” she joked, tilting her head up so she could look at him, forcing him to lift his head.

“Obviously,” Link said as he looked back down at her. “Can’t be the Hero of Hyrule if I leave their princess all alone.”

“If I recall, you did that for over a century.”

“My bad.”

Zelda laughed again, the sound bright and joyous in the empty room. It filled him with comfort, and he couldn’t help simply gazing at her, taking in every little detail he could see. Part of him wondered if he’d really forgotten her, because it felt impossible to imagine a time he didn’t know her face. Her lovely eyes, her warm smile, her infectious laugh, her pink lips—it wasn’t something that could be forgotten. A beauty like hers transcended that. 

“I meant it when I said thank you for everything,” she said with a small smile. “Hyrule really is in your debt.”

“I would do it again and again.” Without thinking, he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. It was lucky for him that her love lasted over a century. 

“Get some sleep,” she said softly, tugging the cushion from the chair and tossing it behind him. “You must be exhausted.”

“I slept for a hundred years. I think I’ll be fine,” he replied, but laid back and rested his head on the cushion anyway. Zelda laid gently on top of him, resting her head against his chest. Link folded his arms around her and took a deep breath so her scent enveloped him again. Her fingers tapped against his shoulder, keeping time with his heartbeat. He knew, just as he had for a while, that they were right where they needed to be. He couldn’t speak for Zelda, but he knew that he belonged with her, no matter what life it was.

And he closed his eyes, missing the dawn’s light peaking over the horizon.

Masterlist

[loving-all-for-loki]

Voiceless Love Chapter 9: Evermore

(Bucky’s route)

Bucky x reader

Word count: 2264

Warnings: fluff, some angst, SMUT (unprotected sex, you know better).

Tag List: @caffeineoverloadandstudying @zizzlekwum @daddysfavoritesexkitten @magicalpieex @buckylokisimp @lokiyoulittle

A/N: So, because I originally intended for this to be a Loki x reader, I couldn’t bring myself to write a ton of more Bucky chapters. I kind of got bored with it and I don’t know how to write Bucky well for long so this is the last Bucky chapter. I want to thank everyone who made it to the end. I feel very blessed for how well this series was accepted considering how new I am to writing fanfiction. 

There’s this old Bruce Lee quote that goes, “Love is like a friendship caught on fire. In the beginning a flame, very pretty, often hot and fierce, but still only light and flickering. As love grows older, our hearts mature and our love becomes as coals, deep-burning and unquenchable”. It’s completely accurate. 

When you first met Bucky, it was a friendship. He took you under his wing as a friend and as a mentor, one newbie to another. He was quiet and civil. It’s what drew you to him, but after months you became infatuated. Neither of you left each other’s side, until Loki came around.

That’s the flickering, or your flickering. He swooped in like a knight on the back of a donkey. He was unlikely, a rare and unstable love. You remember when you first met him. Quiet like Bucky, he had a strong presence, one that was to be noticed. Unlike Bucky, he wanted nothing to do with you at first until he got to know you. He realized you were more, but he left. His light flickered out and your flickering like with Bucky vanished. It returned full and brighter than before.

It became unquenchable. You were once again glued to him and him to you. Bucky was there through heartbreak, injury, joy, and accomplishments. After some convincing, Tony eventually let you join the team on missions and help heal on the battlefield. Had it not been for you, Steve, Bucky, and Sam would have died multiple times. Every time healing them sent you to the hospital, Bucky would stay by your side until you were dismissed.

Bucky at one point fought for you, telling the team you couldn’t keep giving them all of your life. They decided to keep you as an emergency or slight injury medic. If they barely got scratched, you would quickly heal them or if they were about to die as well. You stopped healing broken arms and pulled muscle, letting yourself recover from missions.

Now, going through your boxes to put away, you find photos of when you first joined the team. Photos of you with Bucky on late nights, you with Nat and Wanda drunk, you with Steve, Bucky, and Sam drunk. A lot of photos of you with the team drunk. You laugh at Bucky’s expression in some of the photos. Happy. Tired. Drunk.

“Why do you have so many photos of us drunk?” Bucky laughs. 

He turns to see Bucky looking over your shoulder at the photos. You chuckles as you hand him some more of you and the team. 

“Man, we had some fun.”

“Had? We still have fun with them?”

“Not as much. Do we forget who wanted to be on “emergency mode” for the team?”

“I see it as temporary retirement.”

Bucky laughs at your comment as he hands you the photos back. He goes back to putting dishes away into the cupboards. Had anyone told you that two years after you met the super soldier, you’d be moving into an apartment with him while engaged, you’d smack them and chuckle. If anyone told you that you’d be talking to someone as if you’ve always talked, you’d laugh even harder.

But here you are with Bucky, unpacking boxes into the new places and cleaning the surfaces. You set up an old record player he had bought for you last Christmas and put one some old records from Bucky’s childhood. Every so often, he’d stop what he’s doing and make you dance with him. Most of the time it would be a slow song you’d waltz around to, him kissing your neck and making you giggle.

After hours of unpacking, Bucky and you sit down on your new couch. You both take in a deep breath and fall on each other’s shoulders, laughing. Bucky wraps an arm around you and pulls you into him, you laying your head on his lap. He runs his fingers through your hair and looks out the window. The scenery of New York is so calm and familiar. You two debated between moving somewhere far or staying in the area, but knowing how the Avengers are always getting themselves in trouble (and how Bucky still goes on every mission with them), you decided to stay in New York.

You’re not complaining though. It’s such a beautiful sight and it’s home. Having lived in New York for two and a half years now, you feel at home here. It’s almost as if it’s always been home, but now Bucky is home, too. Your heart lies with him and this city. Sure, Loki took a piece of your heart with him to Asgard, but you remind yourself that muscles can get stronger.

You try not to think about Loki often. It only depresses you and puts Bucky in a bad mood, but you can’t help it. Losing a love is hard and sometimes you wish you could forget him entirely, as if it would be easier, but you know you can’t. Bucky has respected your feelings for Loki throughout the time. When you two moved and were packing your things, Bucky didn’t make you throw out the photos of Loki. He never made you get rid of the memories. You kept them in a safe box in your new closet.

But seeing your whole new life, the photos with Bucky, it reminds you why you moved on. You knew you couldn’t hold onto Loki forever, especially after you found out Thor was no longer fighting Odin for his freedom. It was hard, but you knew to save your heart, you had to. Bucky made it easy. He let you talk about him. He let you cry and rant about Loki. It broke his heart to see you in so much pain, but he knew it would pass.

It did pass after a while. You found a new yet familiar love in Bucky. Something warm, comfortable, easy. Bucky’s quietness and security made it easy to love him. He was a man of few words, except with you and you were a woman of none, except with him. It’s a dynamic you can live in and a dynamic that works. Anytime you were out of words or didn’t feel good, you didn’t speak and he was okay with that. He doesn’t take it personally anymore.

“I love you,” he mumbles. “I love you, too.” 

He smiles at your words, knowing how much they mean and how much sentiment they hold. After so long, he lingered on every word of yours, not wanting to miss a single one. Even the avengers quieted when you spoke. You eventually got comfortable enough in front of everyone to say a few words. They managed to coax a couple ‘yes’ and ‘nos’ out of you and then a little while after, they got a few ‘thank yous’ and ‘no problems’. Steve watches Bucky whenever you speak, seeing the smile spreading on his face.

Getting engaged to Bucky brought the greatest smile and that changed Steve’s opinion on everything. Even after dating Buck for a year, Steve wasn’t sure about your relationship with the soldier. He still thought you two were too dependent and immature, but he saw the way you grew together and he knew. He knew you both were good for each other in the long wrong. 

“You want to get Mexican or Chinese?”

“How about Japanese?”

“Sushi?” You ask with a cocked eyebrow.

“Yeah, I’ve never had it.”

“I’m shocked.”

“Well, Hydra wasn’t one for non-mush paste foods and all Stark ever bought was shawarma.”

“I never understood his love for shawarma.”

“Neither did I.”

You both laugh before order yourself some food. You continue to unpack as the food is delivered. When Bucky opened the door for the delivery woman, he was stunned to see her drop the food and walk away fast.

“I think the food lady was scared of me,” he chuckles.

“Well, do remember what the whole world thinks of you.”

“You’re right, but I hate it.”

You sit down to eat and put on some show. After eating all the sushi at record speed, you find yourself yawning and falling asleep on the couch. Bucky watches you as your chest rises and falls in your deep exhaustion. He can’t fathom how beautiful you are and how lucky he is that you are his. He continues to watch you for ten more minutes before picking you up and sets you down on your shared bed. 

Bucky crawls in behind you, wrapping his arms around your body and holding you close. You rustle around and push yourself closer to him. Bucky tries to swallow the feeling he gets when your butt rubs against him, knowing now isn’t the time to start anything with you, but he can’t help it. He thrusts into you, startling you.

“Bucky, what the-”

“Shhh.”

Bucky gets on top of you and kisses you hard.  You tangle your fingers in his hair as you deepen the kiss. You can feel his smile against your lips, making you internally giggle. His metal arm rests on your cheek, his thumb brushing against it, as his other hand strokes up and down your waist. It leaves bruises as he goes, squeezing you, getting closer to you. You buckle  your hips against him, drawing out a moan from his lips.

He leans back for you two to take a deep breath, stripping yourselves of your clothes as you do. You admire Bucky, who sits shirtless in front of you. His scars and bruises mark him perfectly, depicting a man of strength. Bucky’s eyes can’t leave your body, the way it curves and rests. He sees you as this goddess of grace and beauty, something to be worshiped.

And he does worship you. He leaves trails of kisses down your neck to your stomach, stopping right over your mound. His hot breath fans over your fold, sending chills down your spine and making you want more. Your whining begs him to get closer to you, which he teases with kisses on your inner thighs. Your wetness drips on to the bed, capturing his attention, which he replies with by capturing your slickness. His tongue presses against you, sweetly and warmly. Your moans encourage him, but he stops coming back up and hover over your bod.

Bucky slides his pants off and holds the base of his cock. He’s thicker than you imagine and for a brief second you think he won’t fit until he slowly slides into you. You can feel your walls stretching around him as the sting settles in. 

“Move,” you command.

He starts thrusting slowly until he sees the way you whine, bursting into a gruesome pace. You scream out in pleasure, gripping his biceps as he hovers over you, pounding relentlessly into your wet.

“Fuck,” he moans, “feel so good.”

He leans down further and places a hand on your throat, gently squeezing. A smile spreads across your face as he does.

“Kinky little girl,” he chuckles.

His grip becomes tighter until you can feel yourself struggle a little. There’s a buzzing feeling in your lower abdomen, signaling the closeness of your orgasm. Bucky can feel you clench a little on his cock which is now buried deep in you. He stops his fast pace and changes it for a painful beating. He thrusts long and hard, surely leaving bruises from where your bodies collide. You feel your orgasm coming closer and Bucky can tell.

“Don’t cum, yet.” “B-Bucky, please.”

“Not until I say so.”

He continues to choke you as his hard thrusts become unbearable. It’s impossible to hold the orgasm back as you let it go, cumming all over his thick cock.

“Bad girl,” he growls. Bucky pulls out of you despite your complaints and flips you over so your ass is in the air. “I didn’t say you could cum.”

You feel a hard sting on your ass after Bucky smacks you. He smiles when the red mark on your skin appears, matching it on the other side of your cheek. There’s no time in between the spanks. Your ass turns bright red.  

All of a sudden, you feel an intrusion as Bucky slams into you unexpectedly. You cry out in pleasure and pain as he thrusts as hard as he can. The bed shakes and hits the wall in time with Bucky’s thrusts, as well as your moans. They only spur him on, drawing another orgasm out of you.

He doesn’t stop to let you recover for a second. He grunts as his orgasm comes close, his hands gripping you harder and leaving bruises on your waist. The pace starts to stagger.

“Fuck, baby.”

“Cum for me, Bucky,” you order in a sweet tone.

Your words put him over the edge as he cums inside of you, his dick twitching against your walls as he paints them white. He lets out a large deep grunt as he releases, making you even wetter. Pulling out, Bucky takes a deep breath and disappears.

You fall foward on your stomach and breath as he returns with paper towel. He smile and shrugs, you both knowing it’s the only thing you have while unpacking. He cleans you both up before getting in bed next to you, pulling you close to him. You rest your head on his chest as he wraps his metal arm around you, kissing your forehead.

Laying here, you knew you made the right choice, moving on with Bucky. He was home.

[artsninspo]

EXCUSE ME MISS - II

Masterlist 

Part I

AUTHORS NOTE: Soooo, I felt like the vibes were incomplete, there were no private jets, cars, no major black girl luxury moments (they’re coming). I’m going to try to wrap this one up in 5 parts.

SUMMARY: Anon requested one with Trevante and the Reader based on the Jay-Z and Pharrell Excuse Me Miss video. So, I decided to have some fun with it.

PAIRING: Trevante x Reader, Erik x Reader

---

The light streams into the room, beams slipping through sheer white curtains.

There’s a peace to this morning, no alarms, no rushing up and down the stairs – just the faint sweet smell of pancakes and the sounds of Chels’ cheffing playlist. You find yourself smiling, letting your body sink into the plush bed surrendering to the relaxation. Slow living brings you so much joy.

You smile in appreciation of all the finishes you diligently put into HQ, like the bath and rain shower. Putting a few drops of essential oil into your diffuser as you take a shower starting on an intricate face routine much neglected over the past few months.

The door opens and Robin smiles, her full lips and bright eyes sparkle.

“It’s nice isn’t it” she smiles handing you a cup of her infamous hot chocolate and sitting on the counter.

“Its paradise” you in the feeling of stillness.

“It’s been too long”

“It has” you agree with my eyes closed at the memory of life always being so sweet.

“Imagine if we could go shopping and get massages then eat at the mansion or rent a boat for the afternoon and work on our tans” Bella smiles entering your bathroom and the three of you stand there smiling with closed eyes.

“Soon” you sigh hopefully.

“Breakfast is ready” Chels says entering with a smile.

The vibe is so right you all walk into a group hug happy and hopeful. Last night had gone off without a hitch, each of you employing the necessary tactics to make the most of the big spenders. Best of all they wouldn’t miss the change they spent to have a good time. The four of you had been working yourselves to the bone for too long.

“Let’s eat!” Bella says leaving the bathroom first you file out until Chels stops you. The other girls go along and Chels takes an envelope out of her pocket.

“Erik’s payment for this month, it’s all there”  

“Thanks”

Chels smiles before you can, you both laugh a little before hugging away all the tension and bad blood caused by the financial stresses resulting from Chelsea’s bad decisions. Everything’s a little less contentious now that she’s finally over her depression about it and outing in just as much effort as everyone else to right the wrong. It’s even better when you all enjoy her gourmet breakfast. We all clean together enjoying the morning and each other’s company for the first time in what feels like forever.

“We’re, ten grand away from paying off the balance on the house we owe in arears” Robin says making everyone smile at the good news.

“I’ll try to sell some more bags” Chelsea offer’s but her style is so loud she has a lot of trouble ridding herself of her favorite pieces.

Bells smiles, “I’ll take on some extra hours at the shop, try to get in higher paying clients – up the ante on social media hopefully it brings us in some business”

“Ill keep scouting out more opportunities” Robin adds.

“How much do we owe Erik?” Bella asks and I do the calculations closing my eyes out of stress and irritation at the realization.

“50k” the response leaves everyone equally demoralized but the doom and gloom only lasts a moment before the bass of loud music and the purr of a luxury car is in within earshot of the house.

“Speak of the fucking devil” Chels grits.

Erik hops out of his black McLaren in Nike sweatpants and a matching t-shirt his hair is braided into a style freshly cut and relocked. His eyes smile when he sees me outside which is never a good sign. He’s like a predator, baring teeth isn’t a sign of docility.

“Hey baby” he taunts coming in for a kiss only to be pushed back. “Be nice, you owe me money” he responds reaching for the door behind you only to be stopped. “Why aren’t you at work? Your hairs freshly done too” he smiles running his hands through my silk press to work my nerves.

“Erik stop” I whisper, and he steps back finally swallowing.

“You have fun yesterday?” he asks.

Of course, he knows you think to yourself. It isn’t the late payment or genuine concern for your well-being it’s his ego.

“I’m twenty-five Erik I should be able to have some fun”

“Well since you’re not going to work, owe me money and don’t want me in the house – get your stuff”

“Pardon me?”

“What now you have a problem dressing sexy to get attention and get paid, I have a job for you” He says heading back into his car. “Don’t take long I’m not in the mood”

Just like that the perfect morning is ruined by your asshole ex. You head into the house to the girls waiting apprehensively.

“I’ll be back, he knows about last night, don’t make any moves with the” I pause mouthing MONEY before getting my purse and heading out before he gets too antsy. He opens the door for me letting me in the car.

Erik and I have history.

Not all the good kind.

He pulls off taking the freeway to his side of town. I take note of his sleepy expression, the slight bags under his eyes, his casual outfit and his irritation says he’s back from a job. He’s probably been up for at least  48 hours, definitely been traveling.

“So, if you just got back who squealed on me?”

Erik smiles at how well we know each other, “Doesn’t matter I run security at Onyx now”.

That’s a new development

“I don’t know how you make time for it all. The expansion, the odd jobs, keeping tabs on me”

“I prioritize what’s important” he mocks me kissing my hand. You shoot him a look that warns against his actions but it’s no use. The worst part about all of this is that you still find him attractive. If he had it in him to promise you, he was done with all the other women and that he could be a one woman man – you don’t think you could resist giving a relationship another shot.

“So, what’s the job?”

“The usual you go somewhere looking pretty, this time you’ll be sitting beside me, shouldn’t be too hard, Babydoll”

Erik was your first real boyfriend and there was nothing traditional or normal about your relationship. You were working at a strip club and Erik was a regular. He was insatiable and the entire club lit up when he’d come in. It was clear despite spending the money he wasn’t a trick. There were countless fights over him, and he thrived on the contention. He spent quite a lot of time at the bar with you trying to find your price for a private dance, or date or a little more. Unfortunately, you werent’t repulsed by a man who chose to spend his free time in the club watching naked women. You liked the attention. Erik was attentive, unlike the others. He realized that you kept things flowing. Spotted the big spenders and sent the girls to them. With smiles and little gestures, I kept the money flowing like an expert. Babydoll was a champ whose position wasn’t shaking her ass.

“Whatever Erik”

“How much y’all rake in last night? Y’all out of hot water yet or you still close to needing to move back home. You know I left your room and closet how you left it?” Erik has no business being such an asshole. The only thing I ever did to him was leave and cut all communication. He’s the one who was sleeping with other women and telling me they meant nothing. He starts laughing when he sees that I’m frustrated with him.

“You shouldn’t treat me like this” I snap tired of it, tired of the constant provocation.

“Fuck you!” He snaps aggressively. “Fuck you, Y/N” he repeats telling me to shut up. He’s exhausted and furious about my activities last night barely holding it together. “You owe me money. You tell me to fuck off, then a year and a half later you call me crying. Chels stole from you not me. You didn’t give me a happy birthday check on me nothing. I bailed her dumbass out a year ago right, took care of it FOR YOU!” he barks not looking at the road. “Then you treat me like I ain’t shit when you can’t even pay up consistently. I could put to work everyday until its paid off but I don’t. So shut the fuck up and grow up” he finishes with flared nostrils, his dark eyes a blaze waiting for me to challenge him.

I don’t, knowing when to pick my battles, “No one put a gun to your head, you didn’t have to, if you didn’t want to” I swallow.

His jaw clenches at the truth and he doesn’t say anything else for the remainder of the drive. He opens the garage when we pull up like he’s done a thousand times when we were good. Its nostalgic and this place still feels like home when it shouldn’t. The house has a few new upgrades. It’s still immaculate and our puppy runs to me all grown up now. He heads upstairs and I follow to my old room seeing my outfit ready on a clothing rack. You look around trying not to be overwhelmed by the memories. Erik never said no when your first moved in, he was your boss and he took great care of you. Life was easy, the responsibilities were minimal. About 10% work, 10% housekeeping, 60% having fun with the girls and 20% Erik because of his demanding schedule. It was perfect.

“I’m going to be away for the next month – don’t want you out here looking desperate”

“Month is a long job”

“Don’t act like you care” he says and it’s an insult. The problem is I care too much. His jaw clenches he’s angry with me for leaving still. “Benny will be here in an hour to do your hair and make-up” he sighs stepping closer. The anger fading as he eyes my lips. It’s like he scolds himself secretly like he decides against something before surrendering to lust. We both know better.

His left hand holds my side and his right guides my head back supporting my neck as his lips kiss mine. You can’t resist the temptation and deepen the kiss. It turns him on and kisses grow more and more assertive as he tries reclaiming what’s his. You both rush to nakedness. Your eyes glance over the new keloids covering his chest. His eyes fall in self-consciousness but there’s no room for judgement as his hand traces the covered tattoo of his initials under your breasts before he takes one, kissing them both.

Straddling him your hands hold his shoulders before lowering onto his manhood as your body yearns for him. There’s no shame in taking what you want. Erik had taught you that but it’s too much to watch him, watch you ride out the waves of pleasure. Your eyes close in the rapture of pleasure holding on for better control as you contract on his manhood making his grip tighten guiding your hips in a new rhythm. No longer face to face you embrace each other breathing heavily in each other’s ears as you both begin to glow.

Erik moves from the seat to the bed peppering kisses down your back before taking you from behind. Your breaths are even more shallow as you feel his frustration, anger and resentment with every stroke.

Hate-fucking.

Its lovely. Your eyes close as your teeth sink into your bottom lip in efforts to contain the moans of pleasure threatening to escape. His ego doesn’t need further sustenance. He grabs your neck reliving you of being on all fours as he strokes to his climax filling your vigorously, recklessly, intentionally. He doesn’t lose his strength as your body goes limp, guiding you both onto the bed to lay and catch your breath.

If things were different this would only be round one of many. You’d trace the keloids on his chest, kissing them, he’d hold you, running his fingers along your back.

It wouldn’t be so empty as you get up padding to the bathroom to pee. You’d be on birth control, not having to make a mental note for a plan B. Some sweet thoughtful gesture would follow not relief when you hear him leave the room heading into the master bedroom.

You sigh turning on the shower.

He hadn’t changed a thing.

….

I sit through hair and make-up with Benny and the nostalgia is a little too much as you laugh and talk like you’re still a kept woman with no worries, that couldn’t be further from the current reality.

“Are you still writing, anything I should check out? Ideas I should run by clients? Research?” He asks invested my career and progression.

“No” I swallow, and his smile falls as he looks at my reflection.

“It’ll return Y/N. Remember, no matter what you can’t kill an artist’s talent, but practice and action make masters” he smiles a pillar of wisdom.

“Thank you, Benson,” you kiss his cheek and he nods finished. You look better than you did last night.

“Tell Bella I’ll be holding classes again; I want her to take my south-eastern slot” he reminds packing up.

“I will” you smile gutted that we can’t afford our dreams right now.

You get dressed in the teenie tiny mini dress that has a circle lace up detail on the sides, you admire the vision of 90’s video girl, glam hoochie. Twirling in the mirror you admire your look, feeling sexy again. Browsing your closet to find a high-end bag to match the outfit. You were so mad when you decided to leave, you didn’t want anything to do with Erik not even the gifts he’d purchased.

You make a pick and turn to find Erik watching you in the doorway. There’s a hint of happiness in his eyes seeing you here but there’s also a danger to him. He definitely has something up his sleeve. Besides enough nostalgia to make you reconsider being his girl again.

“You look perfect” he smiles kissing your forehead.

Taking your hand, you leave in another car and end up at a venue that you’ve never been too.  Erik holds your hand as you walk through the outdoor venue before entering private cabana’s. He stops suddenly stepping behind you so he can guide your steps forward. Your heart slows in apprehension not trusting him. Your heart races when you close in on a man that looks familiar, dark chocolate skin, and a beard. He looks up sensing us and its Trevante. You swallow feeling yourself and so does Erik.

“You really think you were gonna fuck me over this easy. Milk him and walk away from me forever?” Erik says into my ear. My blood boils as Tre looks at us confused. I try to smile.

“Erik” Tre smiles.

“Tre, this is my girl Y/N, Y/N Tre, we go way back” Erik swallows looking me over. “And were working together” Erik smiles like he’s a good guy – not the cold-hearted insufferable asshole that he is. You’re so mad you could make a scene, knowing Erik that’s just the kind of embarrassment Erik is hoping for to further bury any prospects of you and Tre.

“Hi” I manage and Erik smiles at the hoarseness of my voice.

“What you want a long island, Tre want anything?” he asks his friend.

“I’m good bro” he responds and Erik stands leaving the two of us. You look at Tre who also looks at me like I’ve done something wrong. You turn to see Erik at the bar flirting with the bartender too dizzy to know which path to take in such a fucked situation.

“I didn’t know Erik settled down” Tre comments and you look back at Erik again feeling particularly cornered.

“You work together?” you ask, and Tre looks me over before nodding his head.

“On occasion”

“Erik’s not an adversary you want to have, so stop looking at me like that.” I warn and he looks taken back. Erik returns sitting close to me and I move away despite us having company. He just fucked me only to screw me over.

“You two met last night right?”

“Bro, I didn’t know” Tre surrenders like he isn’t the multimillionaire tycoon.

“You remember at MIT all the baddest bitches in the city were mind – you think Miami is different?” Erik laughs being disrespectful on purpose as he G checks Tre who shifts uncomfortable. Satisfied with position of power Erik smiles like he’s not about to raise hell. “I told you I had the perfect girl for your VR game” Erik smiles sitting back.

I’m so confused I’m getting a headache until Tre looks me over again. His eyes study me, drinking me in. His head nods and his lips upturn into a smile before his eyes light up.

“Bro, she’s perfect” he agrees shocked.

I’m uneasy as I look at Erik he’s pissed enough to put me in a bad position. “Youre lucky I still want to fuck you or you’d be leaving here embarrassed and broke but I’m still getting break for you – remember that the next time you go out in next to nothing looking desperate and embarrassing me” Erik whispers in my ear. He’s diabolical.

“It’s a VR game” Tre smiles when he sees I’m visibly confused and uneasy. “Virtual reality, influencer culture is big right now. Our game is going to monopolize that but first I need an IT girl, a model if you will. The blueprint, someone who fits the looks of private jets and shopping sprees, the kind of girl that our players will want to be friends with and like to look at.” He explains with a smile. I look at Erik who nods.

“Obviously I need to see numbers and a contract, how much of my likeness is going to be used”

“Your face your body” Erik says.

“I’m not doing anything raunchy” you tell him, and he smiles.

“That’s all for me. You two work it out, remember I get my cut” Erik says getting up and leaving.

He’s unbelievable – you can never decide if you hate him or love him.

_____

Taglist: 

@determinednot2fall @twistedcharismaaa​ @l-auteuse​ @chaneajoyyy​ @thickemadame​ @longpause-awkwardsmile​ @klaylakayblack​ @amelatonin​ @just-juicee​ @xo-goldengirl​ @ljstraightnochaser​ @itsjustyazz​ @soufcakmistress​ @nijajoha  @iamrheaspeaks @4tprincess  @justgetitoverwith0​ @queenflaws @abeautifulmindexposed @coveredingodiv @nahimjustfeelingit-writes​@champagnesugamama​ @heavensangelxo​ @bugngiz​ @cherrystainedlipsbaby​ @tip222u​ @keiva1000​ @doublesidedscoobysnacks​ @shalynn-m​ @bakarilennox​ @tyees​ @damienwitcher 

[rhapshie]

This was from a writing challenge I had in my discord server a while back. Never really shared it outside, so I thought I’ll throw it here. I don’t think I’ll ever post it on my AO3

Title: - Rating: M Pairing: Aomine/Kagami TW: Suicide. The other dies in the end too but due to an unrelated incidence.

17 January.

Am I okay? I feel like I'm falling back down. I never knew how much I like his presence until he's not there anymore.

.

Kagami was pretty sure he was in love.

But no one should take his word for it. After all, he didn't know the first thing about romance, so this could just be a stupid infatuation for all he knew, but he really couldn't help it. Aomine was... unreal. He was convinced that the Touou player wasn't human because how could someone be so dazzling? It didn't even matter that he had such a cocky attitude. If anything, it made everything that much better.

Because what was wrong with confidence when he had the skill to back it up? Besides, Kagami found that kind of sexy.

In fear of his own emotion, he hid.

Over the course of his second year, he slowly grew more and more distant from Aomine after convincing himself that this was for the best. It would be much easier on his heart if he never confessed, therefore he'd never get rejected.

That didn't stop him from pining from afar, though.

.

21 March.

Satsuki suspects that something's up but I really don't wanna worry her more than I already do.

.

It all happened too quickly and too suddenly.

Kagami was eighteen years old, attending the last year of high school in Seirin when he felt something was amiss. Initially, he ignored it, thinking that the sudden throbbing in his heart was just his imagination and he continued playing basketball. Interhigh was just around the corner and their first opponent was Touou, so he couldn't afford to get distracted.

However, the nausea persisted throughout the night. Kagami tossed and turned in his bed as he wondered what could possibly cause such agitation. Cold sweat ran along his back as he forced himself to get some shut-eye only to finally succeed at too-late o'clock.

Something was seriously not right, but he couldn't pinpoint what exactly.

.

1 April

I hate this. I don't know what the point is anymore. There's only so much that basketball can numb and I'm fucking hurting all over. I don't know how to reconnect with Tetsu and the others and I damn well don't wanna go to Kagami. Where is he anyway? Haven't seen him around lately...

.

Aomine wasn't there for their match.

And he wasn't the only one absent either. The spot next to Harasawa where Momoi usually sat was empty and the entirety of Touou seemed extremely distracted. Their focus was at an all-time low and they looked uncharacteristically distracted. Was it simply because of their missing ace? Kagami had a feeling that it was something else entirely. Judging from Kuroko's body language that conveyed discomfort, the redhead grew more certain that something else was gnawing on them.

No one wanted to tell him where Aomine was. They all simply turned their heads the other way and walked away, frustrating Kagami to no end. While he knew that they didn't look like the best buddies, he respected the other power forward. Kagami would go as far as to admit that he had a massive crush on Aomine.

Of course, it wasn't something he'd say out loud. In fact, instead of acting on it, he chose to stay as far away as possible. He figured that if he never showed any affection, he wouldn't have to get rejected. Better safe than sorry. Aomine looked like he was far from gay, so Kagami wanted to spare himself the heartache.

He knew he had no right to pry, but he felt like he deserved to know why Aomine didn't come.

.

13 May

All I do is hurt everyone near me even when they're just trying to help. Maybe it's better if I don't ask for help... It'll just be a pain in the ass. At the end of the day, it's my problem. I got no rights dragging other people into it, especially after what I've done. I'm so fucking tired. I'm so sick of feeling like this. If it wasn't for basketball, I... maybe I'd be long dead or something. Guess I'll have no choice but to keep playing.

.

Gone.

He was gone.

There was a deafening ringing in Kagami's ears when Momoi broke the news that Aomine had passed away. He had overdosed on paracetamol the night before the match. His parents were away on a business trip, so he wasn't found until Momoi broke into her childhood friend's place and saw Aomine's unconscious body in the kitchen. His skin was pale, deathly blue and icy cold.

Kagami didn't know what to say or how to react, so he only stood there.

He didn't cry. He couldn't.

.

11 June

I can't sleep. My head hurts. It's so pathetic but I feel so lonely... I still haven't told anyone, but I think I really should see a psychologist.

.

In the coffin lied Aomine's dead body. His silky blue hair was neatly brushed and there was no crease on his forehead. It was an unfamiliar sight for Kagami who could only stare at the man who would never again look at him with his electric navy eyes. Kagami would never again face him in a heated battle, would never again scream or be screamed at. There would be none of that infuriating lopsided smirk, that mocking laughter or the obsolete 'the only one who can beat me is me'.

He should be happy to finally be rid of Aomine's cocky attitude, but he wasn't.

Because it meant he would never see Aomine in his raw form, glistening in sweat and the joy of a child as he played the sport he loved ever again, nor one of his rare sincere smiles. There would be none of that husky voice haunting him at night when he only had his right hand as a company. Soon, the seat that Aomine occupied in Maji burger when they had dinner with the rest of the Generation of Miracles would be empty.

Kagami once again stared at the man who'd never again open his eyes. He looked so peaceful in death, unlike how he usually carried himself when he was alive and breathing.

And that was what hurt Kagami the most.

.

19 June

I can't do this anymore. No matter where I look, I don't see anyone who can help me. Besides, it's embarrassing to talk to them about this... shit. And I don't have money for psychologists either. Why are they so expensive? I sure as hell can't ask mum and dad because they'll end up grilling me about it.

.

In the months following Aomine's death—suicide, Kagami felt empty.

They found a journal under the man's pillow that detailed his slow spiral into depression. While he had his good days and things looked promising a couple of years ago when he finally regained the love of basketball that he thought he had lost forever, it didn't last.

He thought about all the missed opportunities that metastasised into regrets. There were multiple occasions when he was able to lend a helping hand, but all he ever did was chicken out. He was too scared of his own feelings for Aomine that he ended up running away.

Kagami wondered if he had talked more to him, he'd still be here right now. Maybe he was part of the reason why Aomine killed himself.

.

1 July

I'm getting really worried... The voices in my head won't stop. Earlier I had to call Satsuki just so I can talk to someone. I don't wanna worry her... I really don't. But between her and my parents... I guess I don't have a choice.

.

They said time healed all wounds, but Kagami started to suspect that maybe some wounds were simply too deep to ever disappear.

It had been too many years since Aomine's untimely death and he could barely remember the guy's face or voice anymore, but it never hurt any less when he remembered the arrogant Touou ace.

"Papa!"

Kagami looked away from the newspaper on his hand when he heard his little girl running towards him with glee. Her fingers were stubby and she was still unbalanced on her feet. The sight never ceased to warm his heart.

Despite living with his beautiful wife that he didn't deserve, Kagami never really truly let go of his past. He'd done well concealing it, but he knew that his wife suspected that something was up.

There were lingering what-if's spinning in his head. If he had asked Aomine for a one-on-one that evening, maybe none of this would ever happen. Maybe right now, they'd be living together with a child of their own. Or maybe they'd still be friends, rivals, whatever. 

Maybe if they celebrated their birthdays together, maybe if Kagami gave him that box of homemade chocolate hiding in his fridge for valentine's, maybe if they spent one more day together in Maji's, maybe Aomine would still be alive right now. Even if they ended up drifting apart or hated each other's guts, it would be much better than this.

It was stupid to wallow in regret, he knew.

However, the diary that Momoi insisted he kept burned a hole in the nightstand. It was a grim reminder of his failure; of his cowardice that cost him the one person he wanted to see smile.

.

6 August

What would he say if he were here?

Where did he go, seriously... it's been so long since we've last met or talked.

I guess it's the interhigh soon. Maybe I'll see him again then.

.

He didn't even know when he started to grow such intense feelings for Aomine. For years he searched, but could never really pinpoint the exact time.

"Kagami-kun, it's time to go." Kuroko gently put a hand on the door and glanced at his old friend with a pair of sympathetic eyes that turned even more mellow when he saw the worn diary on Kagami's lap. "Don't you think you've carried this weight enough?"

The redhead stared at the wrinkly paper before he put it neatly in his suitcase on top of his clothes. "I'll carry it to my grave."

"It wasn't your fault." Said the lithe male with a monotone voice, but full of sadness for those who knew him.

Maybe if Kuroko actually read through the diary, he'd change his mind, Kagami thought.

.

12 August

I really wanna tell him how much I like talking to him.

This is so stupid.

I texted him but he never replied. It's been 3 weeks.

Maybe he hates me now.

.

He knew that one of these days, he'd get himself in a pickle he'd never get out of. Today so happened to be one of those days.

Regardless of what would happen, he was happy that he had divorced his wife and she had the custody of their daughter. As for his friends... well, they'd live. Everyone knew what being a firefighter would entail. Lots of rescuing cats from the tree, fetching lost keys from the gutters, running into a burning building and in some cases...

Death.

Yeah, that was a thing too.

With a forced laughter, Kagami curled his head under his chest to avoid inhaling more smoke than he already did. However, all openings were sealed and he had nowhere else to go.

He really should've chosen another path. NBA, for one. By now, he'd probably be past his prime. 35 years old. He'd be retired with a lot of money. Definitely more than he would ever get by working as a firefighter.

As the fire licked the space around him and burnt wood toppling down from the ceiling, Kagami waited for the moment when one would crush him and put him out of his misery. Or maybe his friends would come in and drag him out.

"...gami..."

The redhead lied on his stomach, eyes glassy as he watched the building structure crashed down all around him.

"Oi, Bakagami! How long are you gonna sulk for?"

"I'm not sulking..." He mumbled under his breath. "...Ahomine."

Ah, yeah. That was what he sounded like. Low, husky and seductive voice that he couldn't get enough of.

"C'mon, let's play." Those lips upturned into a grin and even though the rest of his face was obscured by the light, Kagami could clearly see beautiful deep blue eyes and frown lines on his forehead. "You were the one who bugged me, so just get up already."

"You're not an early riser, idiot. Why are you so—" he coughed after a particularly nasty inhale," so eager..."

"Hurry or I guess we won't play. I'll give you five minutes."

"Five minutes? I'll whoop your ass in three." He snorted inbetween his coughing fit.

"After all that talk you're just gonna lie there? I know you only had like, 3 hours sleep, but I thought you've been looking forward to this."

He felt his eyes slowly closing.

"Daiki..." He heaved tiredly. A piece of wood fell on his thigh and he bit out a scream when it charred his protective gear. Even through it, he felt the deathly heat. "I—Argh!" He didn't even know what the fuck that was but he was pretty sure it crushed his left leg. "I'm sorry. I'll be there soon."

"Fine," The light slowly eased as Aomine's head blocked the source of light to create a halo. Tanned skin, boyish grin and eyes that were positively brimming with life. "I'll wait for you."

.

15 August

If there's a life after death.

I wonder if they play basketball?

If they do, maybe I'll get to play with him again one day.

[pleasejustfuckinghugme]

Forever

episode one pt. two (word count: 2,333)

jacobs!oc x fezco

warnings: mentions of abuse and attempted rape, crude language, drugs, alcohol, sexual themes

Nancy and I had been best friends since freshman year after her brother tried to finger me at the freshman formal. After she saw me running to the ladies room and heard her brother dick around with his friends, she knew something was wrong. She ran to the bathroom and refused to leave me alone for the rest of the night, eyeing her twin at all times. Later that night, she confronted him about it when they got back home, and he slapped her across the face. They didn’t acknowledge each other for an entire month after that. Nate eventually apologized. It was a shitty apology, but Nancy was nice. And way too forgiving. 

Then Nancy met Maddy after she and Nate started dating, and they became best friends. They pretty much told each other everything, so when Maddy found out about Nate hitting Nancy, she was furious. Nancy refused to let her do anything; she knew that if Maddy confronted him he would do the same thing to her. They promised they would always be there for each other instead, and so far, they had managed to keep that promise.

“Bitch, you’re coming,” Maddy scolded her from across the room. Nancy was sitting on her bed, watching as Maddy applied glitter to her eyelids. 

The girl flinched as Maddy stood up, throwing her eyeliner at her.

“Nate won’t be happy.”

“He’s not your fucking dad, so it doesn’t matter,” Maddy argued. “And this way you’ll meet the rest of the cheer team before school starts.”

“Fine,” Nancy sighed as she began to apply her eyeliner.

“Honestly, I think Nancy’s gonna catch the most dick tonight. She look hot as fuck,” BB snorted, taking a breath of her vape. 

“Yeah right,” Nancy scoffed. “If I did, it would only because Maddy’s letting me borrow her dress.” She winked at her friend through the mirror, but Maddy didn’t see as she was too preoccupied looking at her boobs.

“Do you think my areolas look weird?” she asked, turning to look at Kat and Nancy.

“No,” Kat returned, scrolling on her phone. Nancy said nothing as she chewed her bottom lip, concentrating on winging her liner.

“But, like, the edges though,” Maddy pressed.

Kat finally looked up at the girl, “Maddy, they’re fine.”

Maddy narrowed her eyes at the girl, “Fine like they’re kind of weird, or fine like nobody would ever notice what I notice?”

“Fine like shut the fuck up, Maddy,” BB called from the bathroom.

“Your boobs are wonderful,” Nancy reassured. She stood up from the bed and started slipping on her black a-line dress.

“I’m disgusting. I literally look disgusting,” Maddy rambled, looking at herself in the mirror.”

“Maddy, you need to snap the fuck out of this. You’re hot as fuck. Nate’s a loser! Who cares?” Kat whined.

Nancy plopped down next to her on the bed, grunting in agreement. “Exactly, that’s why we should just skip the whole thing.”

Maddy rolled her eyes and faced them, “No, Nancy. Besides he’s not a loser, he’s a dick.”

Nancy scoffed as Kat mumbled, “All dicks are losers, duh.”

“Look, bottom line. Y’all need to walk into this party like your pussy costs a million dollars,” BB slurred walking to Maddy’s closet.

Nancy shifted awkwardly on the bed as Maddy replied, “I’d probably settle for, like, fifty grand.”

“Fifty grand is a million dollars.”

“I’d settle for, like, four Corona Lites and some non-rapey affection,” Kat muttered. Nancy pushed her shoulder playfully as BB cringed, “That’s kind of depressing.”

“Nate just, like, totally ruins my confidence,” Maddy huffed. “You know when somebody just constantly criticizes, like, everything about you?” 

This prompted Nancy to go over to the girl, giving her a small, comforting hug and a peck on the cheek.

“Yep, that’s like every guy,” BB assured.

“You just need to catch a dick and forget about your troubles,” Kat affirmed, causing Maddy to whip around as Nancy giggled.

“Girl, you just need to catch a dick,” she accused. She lightly smacked Nancy on her cheeks. “And you’re no better either, bitch.”

Nancy rolled her eyes and flicked Maddy’s forehead. “Shut up,” she scoffed, laughing.

“Seriously, Maddy. The best thing to do after a break up is to fuck someone new and then move on.”

“Please, Kat, remind me again how many guys you fucked, and um, oh yeah, catfishing, that don’t count,” BB accused, waving the girl off. Hurt flashed in Kat’s eyes as she returned to applying her mascara.

“BB,” Nancy warned.

Maddy faced BB, scowling. “Can you not be a cunt for like fifteen seconds?” she shot, defending the girl.

A knock interrupted their conversation. The door to Maddy’s room opened and her dad began to speak.

“Dad! Stop being a pervert! We’re literally, like, all naked!” Maddy squealed. The door promptly shut again, and the four girls looked at each other before breaking out into laughter.

The small town seemed to come alive at night. Red, green, and pasty yellow lights reflected through Maddy’s car as the four girls rode to McKay’s. Nancy laid her head on the window, watching neon lights streak past as the car glided down the road. Further ahead of the car, the reflection of a golden jacket caught her eyes. Squinting, she looked at the figure walking down the road. It was a girl with long, frizzy brown hair, her caramel skin glowed under the street lights. Suddenly, realization struck her.

“Holy shit,” she breathed, jerking her head up.

“Is that?” Maddy trailed off, slowing her car down to a stop.

“Oh shit! That’s Rue!” BB gasped, taking a hit of her vape.

“Didn’t Rue, like, die?” Maddy quizzed, causing Nancy to lightly punch her shoulders, scolding her, “Don’t say that shit, Maddy.”

BB leaned back in her seat, “Oh my god, I hate ghosts.”

When the car was close enough to the girl, Nancy and Kat both stuck their heads out the window.

Nancy called out her name as Kat hollered, “Ayo, Casper!”

Rue turned towards the car.

“Wanna ride?” Kat winked.

Rue sauntered over to the car and leaned in close to Kat. A smile crept across her lips as she nodded, “Why, thank you.”

Nancy whooped in approval and swung her door open. “Bitch!” she proclaimed wrapping her arms around the tipsy teenager. Rue smiled sloppily and scooted into the car next to Nancy.

As they continued their trek to the party, Nancy thought about everything she wanted to ask Rue. How was she? How was rehab? Was her family okay? Was she okay? But she didn’t ask any of these things. Rue was already drunk; her stumbling down the road and glassy eyes made that obvious. And Nancy knew Rue well enough that if Rue was drunk and headed to a party that meant two things: rehab was not working and Rue was definitely going down a spiral. Nancy looked at her old friend, who sat staring out the window, rolling her eyes at the conversation between Kat and Maddy in front of her.

She reached her arm over and brought Rue into another embrace, “I missed you, you know?”

Rue squeezed her shoulders and gave her a tight smile, “I missed you too.”

“Maybe we can hang out sometime this week? Catch up?”

Rue’s eyes grew at the question. A hint of happiness shown through her orbs. “Yeah, I’d like that,” she grinned.

When they pulled up to the party, the whole front yard was already filled with drunk students. Red solo cups flew around the air, and the stench of alcohol and weed was almost suffocating as they walked into the house. Nancy made her way to the kitchen with her girls, and they all grabbed some beer before making their way to the living room.

Now, we all know that this night got fucking weird. So now that the four girls were all completely wasted, it was time for them to take their newfound, drunken confidence and use it to unwillingly embarrass themselves. However, luckily for Nancy, her drunk alter ego did her some favors, and while Maddy was busying herself with getting back at Nate, Kat was losing her virginity, and BB was out doing God knows what, Nancy found herself strutting towards the cute boy from that same morning. You know, the one who sold her drugs.

“Fancy seeing you again,” she jested, plopping down beside him on the couch. She kicked her feet up onto the table in front of them, showing off her Doc Martens.

“Hey, kid,” Fezco spoke, sitting up on the couch. “Shit, you come to these parties? I ain’t ever seen ya around before.”

“My first real party,” Nancy snorted, putting up jazz hands, making the man chuckle quietly.

“Word,” he affirmed. “That’s what’s up. How’s it been so far?” His eyes never left hers.

She smiled at his question, her eyes sparkling. “Fucking great,” she gushed. “I had like five shots and some beers and danced for hours.”

He laughed, shaking his head, “Good for you, kid. Jus’ stay away from those drugs, right?”

She saluted and echoed his words, “Aye, staying away from drugs.”

She watched as he took a drag of the roll tucked between his fingers. He closed his eyes and leaned back as he puffed the smoke out. Slowly, he turned back to look at her, and she met his eyes, a small smile growing on her face.

However, the serenity between the two at that moment was shortcoming as Nancy began to feel her insides twist inside her. The alcohol was starting to catch up, and the hazy, relaxed feeling in her head began to turn into a throbbing sensation. She jerked up from the couch, startling the man as she ran to find the closest bathroom. She ducked around people, running into some before she finally reached the toilet, whipping the door open. Chunky liquid left her system, and the awkward feeling of throwing up, along with the horrid stench, caused her eyes to prickle with tears.

She was startled when she felt someone pull her hair back for her, placing their other hand on her back. The palm rubbed circles as the person spoke, “Shit, kid. You drank way too much.”

When she was finally finished ridding the toxins from her body, she leaned back from the toilet. Fezco handed her some toilet paper, and she wiped off her mouth. Her makeup was totally ruined, black streaks running down her cheeks and lipstick smudged.

“Fuck,” she muttered. “I’m sorry.”

“Nah, don’t worry ‘bout me. You good?” he rubbed her back, watching her closely. She refused to look at him, too embarrassed.

“I will be. Thank you,” she whispered.

He smiled warmly at her. “Never caught ya name.”

“Nancy,” she answered, finally meeting his gaze. He was smiling at her, but it wasn’t an amused smile. It was something else.

“Right. I think I heard Nate mention you before.”

“Shit,” she muttered. “He’s gonna fucking murder me if he sees me like this.”

She began to stand up, but lost her balance. Fezco chuckled, steadying her. “You betta’ slow down. I think he’ll survive. He ain’t ya dad.”

She thinly smiled, nodding. “Right.” She laughed dryly and he gave her a questioning look. “Fuck, this is, like, really embarrassing,” she confessed.

He shook his head, “Kid, I’m so fuckin’ high who knows if I’ll remember this.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Thank you, really.” They looked at each other quietly for a moment, eyes locked together. Nancy could feel her stomach starting to turn again, but something was different about it this time. There was more of a fluttering rather than her organs getting flipped around. She looked away, stuttering, “I should probably go home.”

Fezco nodded, “Alright. I’ll see ya around, kid.”

She let out a soft okay before turning to find Maddy in the crowd. But she ran into her brother first.

“The fuck you doing here? What happened?” Nate bellowed, looking down at her. Her hair was a frizzy mess and one of her spaghetti straps had fallen off her shoulder. Her eyes were puffy when she looked up at him. 

“Shut up,” she scowled at him. “Have you seen Maddy?”

He turned around, looking past the back window into the pool. Nancy leaned over to see around him and saw Maddy in the pool with another boy. She turned back to her twin, hesitantly grabbing his forearm to get his attention. 

“Can we just go home?” she croaked. He looked down at her, not saying anything for a moment, before slowly nodding his head.

“Come on,” he grunted, leading her out the house and to his car.

When they got home, Nate walked around the truck and opened the door for her, helping her as she stumbled out of the car.

“Can you at least look like you can fucking walk before dad sees you? Jesus,” he grumbled, helping her walk to the door.

When they got inside she pulled away, stumbling up the stairs. She whispered a goodnight to him before staggering into her room and on her bed. She groggily kicked off her shoes before pulling her comforter up. Her head was throbbing, and her eyes felt heavy as she laid on her bed, sending a quick text to Maddy letting her know she went back home.

She heard her door creak open.

“Goodnight, kiddo. You need anything?” she heard her dad whisper from across the room. She looked over at him. He was peeking his head through her door, looking at her with kind eyes. 

“Can I get some water?” she yawned. “And some Tylenol?”

She heard him chuckle, “Sure thing, kid.”

When he came back and handed her the pills she swallowed them and chugged the bottled water before plopping her head back on her pillows. She felt her father gave her a quick peck on the forehead, whispering goodnight, before sleep engulfed her.

[gingus-doon]

pov u just shot your childhood hero, wdyd

i.e. i ramble about keiji post-shooting; his occupation, what he does, how he copes, how he feels, etc. etc.

just putting this little thing here because the post got quite long and i couldn't split it up because it's all somewhat related. it started out as a rant / informal ramble but then it got serious lololol

—

one thing i don't understand is why people hc keiji as still having a job with the police post-shooting? like that just doesn't make sense to me– not only based on his character but like... why would you wanna make him a cop with all the talk of how much the police suck lately? personally i'm a brown bitch so i couldn't be down with thirsting over a cop lol. it's just kinda confusing sjdhd

i've seen the hc of him as a private investigator, though, which i like! it's a very neat way to let him flex his detective skills without being part of a corrupt organization and without forsaking his own personal beliefs and feelings about the police, because i don't think those would change anywhere near easily and i just kinda can't see him going back into the police force because of that.

i have often wondered what keiji would do after the death game, and what he was doing before the death game or after the shooting, because i think he'd definitely quit after the shooting, with all the grief and trauma surrounding the job and his newfound cynicism.

i don't think he'd be doing private investigation before the game, or more specifically, before his character develops into something reminiscent of his old self– as he is at the start of the game, he just doesn't have that faith in protection, so i can't imagine him being an investigator at that point. HOWEVER, in a post death game OR non-death game au where keiji has started to pull himself up from that tar (most likely with the help of others lol) i think that's definitely a plausible option for him and i like it a lot :]

as for other options, though... i really don't know! this is more of a stupid idea but i considered him working in a convenience store like shin lol. i had a whoooole au about him, kai, and shin working in the same convenience store just because they can't hold down any other jobs / don't know what else to do for work. shin is able to actually hold down the job because the last manager was mysteriously taken out of commission (i don't know lol) and they were ridiculously short-staffed already so shin ended up being the "most qualified" for the now vacant position. keiji's had a string of odd jobs since the police and this is just the next one. he's hoping to find something with a better wage but this'll do for now, it's even in walking distance from his apartment. and kai, kai's trying to exercise more independence from the chidouins' after becoming his own person! so he gets what i think would be his first job (well, his first official job, anyway... being an assassin and the chidouins' personal maid were more unofficial gigs lol.) ahh that was a lotta rambling about my dumb little au but i just think it'd be neat, they're three of my favourite characters so having them just vibe with each other at work and become friends sounds nice 2 me :] also Coincidentally i ship literally every combination of those three characters so that may have played a part in my casting decisions lmfao

oh wow that was a really long and uncalled for synopsis but this is just a rambly post so it can't really be uncalled for because this post doesn't have any particular point lol (A/N after writing this— IT HAS A POINT NOW, DISREGARD PAST ME)

SO ANYWAY ! i was just considering what keiji would do right after the shooting. honestly i have noooo idea, it's the beginning of a long road of him burying his trauma in a desperate attempt to avoid facing the pain it brings, and it marks a profound loss of innocence which makes his heart begin to grow cold. it's just hard to see the beginning of the process when where he started and where he ended up are very different places.

obviously, he'd quit his job. i wonder if the hallucinations would start right away? him being naïve in the beginning, i'm sure he'd acknowledge them– cry out apologies and plead for forgiveness until his throat is hoarse. the rule of hallucinations in yttd seems to be that if you acknowledge them, they'll burn themselves into your brain and you'll never be rid of them– implying that keiji has done so, as it's likely been years since the shooting and he's still suffering from the visions despite seeming to ignore them now.

ahh, i'm getting in my feelings about keiji now 😭😭 when i started this, i wanted to be held by him, but now i just wanna hug him like damnnnn

but back to what he'd do after the shooting– this scenario is self indulgent, but wouldn't it be nice if he took some time off and just stayed at his mom's place for a while? help her with chores while she's at work, try to regain a sense of normalcy in his childhood home...

i don't think he'd be able to do this right after the shooting. keiji had shame, once upon a time– the guilt would rack him like nothing else. i can imagine him spending a lot of late nights with alcohol, just wishing it was a dream. his resentment towards megumi slowly building as he feels he's being left in the dark as to why, why he isn't allowed to atone, why she's being so cold towards him about the shooting when he's suffering so heavily from the effects of it.

he wouldn't want to be around his dear mom as a murderer, and as a resentful alcoholic who's coping very poorly with his circumstances.

also (tangent incoming), i kind of wonder about keiji and alcohol a lot. in his fondness events with mishima, he says the following—

the "haven't drank that much in years" part makes me wonder– for how long? did he start to restrain himself before the shooting or after? i would say it's most likely after, considering the "feels like it'll swallow me up" comment he made soon after. and, how he talked about binge drinking when he was still a newbie. perhaps it was fine for him to do so, before the shooting— he'd just get wasted and flirt, have a good time. but after, it morphed into an inefficient coping mechanism which he fell far within the depths of to try and control the worst of his grief and self hatred. after that, heavy drinking couldn't just be for fun anymore.

i assume in the "before it got this way" comment, the "way" he's referring to is how he doesn't drink much anymore? or, he could be talking about the depression drinking, but i think the prior makes more sense.

even though i think, given keiji's example of drinking with megumi, that he could have gotten blackout drunk a couple of times purely for fun pre-shooting, i think here he's referring to the painful side of his relationship with alcohol here, the part that took place when he was trying to cope with his trauma. i think he brings up the story of drinking with megumi immediately after, then, to avoid talking about that part of his past. though he doesn't show it much, i think he's deeply ashamed of himself. not only of what he's done, but how he's handled it afterwards.

on a lighter note, though, it's quite funny to think of Lawful Good young keiji shinogi getting drunk off his ass and flirting with every woman he comes across willing to flirt back. like, what's up with that??? he seems like such a serious dork in the flashbacks, but doing well in his police job, he just... lets loose?? no no, honestly i think he hadn't drank much before going out with megumi and he took her insistence on him drinking a little too far, and with his inexperience with alcohol and the successive lack of self restraint that comes with each new drink, you get casanova shinogi, lmao.

BACK TO THE SERIOUS STUFF THOUGH !! i really like the idea of him going to his mom to help him pull himself back together. i think they'd have a solid relationship, fight me! he seems to adore his mom as a child with a good single parent usually does. i'm sure he appreciates her immensely for all the care and love she managed to give him when he was a kid while also working her ass off to support them financially. this very respect for her is what i think would drive him to isolate himself from her after the shooting– as i said above, he's a murderer now. a disappointing human being in general, and an even worse son. to let down his mother who worked so hard to raise him right... how could he? as his condition worsens and his heart grows colder, i'm sure that feeling would fester inside of him. he'd try to ignore it, as he does with everything else, but it's already wrapped its tendrils around his soul. that particular guilt isn't leaving him any time soon.

now that i'm thinking about it, also, i don't think it's likely that he'd quit his job right right away. it'd be more of a slow descent over the span of a few weeks. immediately after the shooting, he may stop showing up to work for a while. he just can't put on that uniform when it's practically caked in the blood of someone he held in such high esteem for so long. eventually, though, he gets a hold on himself– just a bit. he doesn't want to be cooped up in his apartment with his thoughts anymore, and he doesn't want to lose his job. what else would he do?

so, he takes it easy on the first few days back. megumi tries to make it easy for him. paperwork, whatever job he could do that's not on the field. he clings to her like a wounded puppy, hoping that she'll explain why she's covering it up when he doesn't want her to, what he's supposed to do with these feelings around the incident. he's drowning, and she's made herself a big sister figure to him– she's supposed to help him. but, she shrugs him off when he brings it up. she's so harsh about it compared to how she usually speaks to him. perhaps because of her own guilt around the incident, perhaps it's the family's response and how keiji is now, how panicked and sleep deprived the poor kid has looked since that day.

so he continues to spiral with nothing to hold on to. grasps at alcohol in a futile attempt to stop falling, because it's all he can think to fall back on. he's a wreck at work– he's barely living, much less working. but megumi tries her best to keep him from getting fired. she'll get him coffee and breakfast and try to say something encouraging. "hey. hang in there, shinogi." with a touch on the shoulder. but in spite of her efforts, of course, it hits a breaking point. everyone in the job thinks keiji's too damaged to continue, saying he either needs to see a shrink or get the hell out of the way and let everyone else do their job.

and keiji just stops coming into work one day.

the downward spiral ensues.

[soc-characters-as-songs]

Favorite part of the interviews and a song for all?

ivy: "*he keeps a small polite smile, silently gesturing to the refreshments available as he asks* how have you been finding angeles and the palace, ivy?

*/king doof-ael,/ the title her friend alba had dubbed him with, though she couldn't possibly off that as another name. even if it was interesting, it's only when raphael sits that she notices one of the imposing figures standing a ways behind him. /the divergent man/. seven. he was here? now???"

alaska ("and I walked off an old me/oh me, oh my I thought it was a dream/so it seemed/and now breathe deep, I'm inhaling/you and I, there's air in-between/leave me be, I'm exhaling/you and I, there's air in-between")

meredith: "*he keeps a smile at her* I believe I do prefer celebrations inside, though, knowing how hot it can get in the afternoon here in angeles.

*she feels a bit insensitive when he answers because it's such a huge "duh" moment and she kind of just didn't think about it before she made the comment about all the parties. but she can just add it to her mounting list of little mistakes. she grimaces and nods, murmuring* right, sorry, of course. *she shifts again, reminding herself that she needs to focus more* it's um... colder in northern angeles too. at least where I grew up *she breathes in a sigh because somehow she's turned this into a conversation about the weather, which she feels like is what you do when you're stuck in a waiting room with a stranger and even if that's what the interviews could be likened to she was hoping it wouldn't be like that. she squirms a bit more and honestly a bit of desperation is setting in and meredith unclasps her purse, finally looking down so she can see what she's doing. she hesitates a moment, then reaches a hand inside and pulls out an assorted bag of gummy bears, which she pilfered from the pantry the night before. she quickly closes the purse again, then her hands go to the bag as she opens it, the bag makes that loud plastic crinkly sound. meredith finally looks up at him again and gives him a weak smile, holding up the bag between them, with the opening facing his way* would you like some? *her eyes dart to sam and the cameras, then back to him* it has all the flavors, I think"

good as it gets ("just leave it up to me, to be sad in paradise/I got a good heart but f*ck it for the art/had a good life, I could never really see that/got so bad, lookin' for love in the trash/if I had it, I wouldn't know how to keep it/well, maybe i'm a mess/and maybe I'm depressed/and maybe I'll just find out who I am and I won't like who it is/and I'm a wreck"

diana: "*he shakes his head at her question, not dismissive at all but offering only this* I'm not the cooking or baking type. reading, you could say, is a hobby of mine - basic as it sounds. *he knows it's probably not enough as an answers so he also adds this* podcasts are a good alternative too if I'm moving around on vehicles *he leans back, putting his elbow on his arm rest as he thinks about the baking thing but wanting to confirm his guess he asks* if you don't mind me going back to the cupcakes, were they in celebration of something?

*she shakes her head when he calls his hobby basic* it's not basic at all. I love reading, honestly, it's a luxury to be able to pick up a book on any topic and learn about something new */especially when you never got a formal education past high school/. she thinks it but doesn't say it out loud*"

blind ("but you're a little like me, same type/cancels every date night/stays home, never leaves/just can't find the energy/I stay pretty numb/never fell for anyone/you seem similar/always end up getting hurt/I haven't felt a thing this year/and I'm only tryna be sincere")

dahlia: *elevator music*

alassie: "*he shakes his head at her question, unsure also of how she's approaching this either but he lifts a shoulder up* not exactly, since it was accidentally spilled on me. it's a shame, however, that I don't have the time to change until a few interviews after this. *he waits for her to take a seat properly, gesturing to the seat again* I do ask for your patience to look beyond that for the next five minutes of your time.

*she raises her eyebrows at his gestures, and settles a little more in her current position by crossing her legs. all his fuss over his jacket makes her want to roll her eyes, and she says sarcastically* I'm not sure I can. *she looks towards the camera crew, sounding more polite as she addresses them* can anyone bring us gin? and a dry cloth?"

entertainer ("you thought you had me, didn't you?/when you lied to my face, I could see the truth/every step of the way I knew/how you fooled me, boo/guess you didn’t know that/you were my favorite entertainer/I'd watch you, I'd laugh, I would fuck with you/don’t you take me for a fool/in this game, I own the rules")

ramona: "*he presses his lips together at her last statement, a wry smile on his lips* nothing that the palace laundry couldn't handle. though, it was my lucky shity that got stained.

*she quickly gives him a more sympathetic smile, replying in an almost joking tone* I hope that wasn't an omen for the rest of the day"

meet me at our spot ("i'm not getting younger/but when I'm older/I'll be so much stronger/I'll stay up for longer/meet me at our spot/caught a vibe/baby, are you coming for the ride?/I just wanna look into your eyes/I just wanna stay for the night, night, night")

rhea: "maybe you'll get to work into developing the shows themselves in the artistic team side now *he tilts his head* I'm sorry that you don't get to perform anymore.

*she waves the apology off* developing shows looks like fun - you get some more creativity. *this is what she had rehearsed for. random fact, something near embarrassing, to make her memorable - not something her mother ever said, but something guy of all people had suggested. she leans in with a sly smile* this sounds incredibly nerdy, but I- well, someone I know back home and I- started work on this musical about aliens"

honey ("'cause I'm a beautiful wreck/a colorful mess, but I'm funny/oh, I'm a heartbreak vet/with a stone-cold neck, yeah, I'm charmin'/all the pretty girls in the world/but I'm in this space with you/colored out the lines/I came to find, my fire was fate with you")

cornelia: "I still think invitations are a nice touch, if not the tiny umbrellas stuck on the cherries of the black forest cake. *he bobs his head at the mention of her friends, curious about them* did your friends get to send you off the other day?

*she chuckles because of his words* the tiny umbrellas /are/ a great detail. I didn't know those were something I needed in my life."

like real people do ("I knew that look dear/eyes always seeking/was there in someone/that dug long ago/so I will not ask you/why you were creeping/in some sad way I already know/I will not ask you where you came from/I will not ask you and neither would you")

kaden: "*he thanks her for the coffee, holding it with both of his hands for a bit to let it cool* my previous shirt and jacket have seen better days, and this is a new set of saucers and cups but thankfully not many other casualties *he shakes his head, lifting his mug up* I'd prefer to be drinking coffee or wine rather than have it accidentally on my shirt.

*she finishes to serve her own cup* a thrilling morning you're describing. *she looks up from under her lashes, still amused apparently* perhaps getting rid of the small talk would be for the best."

slow burn ("born in a hurry, always late/haven't been early since '88/texas is hot, I can be cold/grandma cried when I pierced my nose/good in a glass, good on green/good when you're puttin' your hands all over me/I'm alright with a slow burn/takin' my time, let the world turn/I'm gonna do it my way, it'll be alright")

andreia: "*should she look closely, there are coffee stains on the place setting of the coffee table while raffy is in a different shirt and jacket thanks to the wine incident earlier. around them, there are still cameras going off around them, documentation crew really going at it. still, raffy's standing tall with his hands clasped in front of him as she approaches, only offering her his hand when she's close enough to him so he can guide her to her seat. he tries to give her a small smile despite being tired* lady andreia, thank you so much for waiting. my name is raphael, it's a pleasure to meet you.

*being outside all day, with the sun being bright, has not been /ideal/ for andreia, but she's trying her best to ignore the budding headache. she takes his hand when she reaches him, but keeps her other hand in her pocket for the time being, and gives him a small smile in return* just andreia is fine. it's nice to meet you. *once the handshake is done, she takes the other hand out of her pocket, and smiles a little sheepishly before explaining* in iberia, it's rude to show up to someone's house without a gift to give the host *she holds out her hand and in it is a small origami corgi* I know it's not much, but... *she shrugs a little, still with the same sheepish smile*"

valerie ("well, sometimes I go out by myself/and I look across the water/snd I think of all the things of what you're doing/in my head I paint a picture/since I've come home/well, my body's been a mess/and I miss your ginger hair/and the way you like to dress/oh, won't you come on over?/stop making a fool out of me/why don't you come on over, valerie?")

arely: ??????????????

suzy: "*he waits for her to take a seat before taking his own, making a gesture for plato to follow like the besets boy he is and he stays by raffy's feet* he gets mad when he feels underdressed for an event. *he nods at her response to the food, understanding of her wanting to save space for dinner, but is very pleased to hear that she likes the food. he glances at the table, looking for his recommendation and gestures to a green tea bag* I believe some hot green tea would be nice before dinner. cleanses the palate too. *he tilts his head* any favorites from the selection of food earlier?

*she raises her eyebrows, surprised since she tried to dress up bom several times but she ultimately hated being dressed, even if it's a simple bow. she turns her attention to plato and looks down at him* a true gentlepup I see"

505 ("not shy of a spark/the knife twists at the thought that I should fall short of the mark/frightened by the bite, though it's no harsher than the bark/the middle of adventure, such a perfect place to start")