#hiiii! I’m back from the deep depths

[thesmallaranara]

Niloutpala was walking along the grassy forest, when it overheard Collei and lumine having a conversation. With its very selective hearing, it pouted once it heard Collei was going away.

She stomped towards Collei, crossing her arms at her.

“Collei…Collei no allowed to leave!”

@the-most-beloved-colleiflower

[dissapointu]

Hiiii !!! I have to say, I have been loving your work and been extatic to find a creator/writer who writes as often/fast as you do! Lord knows, the last time I requested something it took a year for someone to reply to it haha. (Do take care of yourself, make sure you don't burnout from writing too much, and take breaks if need be.)

I wantet to request something from you, if you don't mind? If you do you can kindly ignore this, but how about the arcane characters with a Bassist, gn!S/O? What would they think about it? (Totally not asking after getting back into Bass after not practicing for three months lolol.)

Would love to hear back from you! Have a nice day! Toodles!

Thank you for the kind words I’m thrilled you enjoy my writing, and I’ll definitely take your advice on self-care—

Jinx

Jinx is immediately obsessed. She’ll insist on helping you “modify” your bass for a “cooler” sound (whether you agree is another story). She’ll sit cross-legged and watch you play, sometimes randomly yelling, “Play it louder!” She’s your chaotic cheerleader and probably doodles all over your bass case.

Vi

Vi loves the vibe your bass brings to the atmosphere. She’ll lean against a wall, arms crossed, with a smirk as she listens to you play. She might even jokingly suggest you form a band together, though her “singing voice” is a source of humor for both of you.

Sevika

Sevika loves the bass’s deep, resonating sound. It’s calming after a long day. She’d likely listen in silence, nursing a drink, but she’s secretly in awe of your skill. She’ll tease you about “being her personal jukebox” but quietly brags about you to others.

Silco

Silco sees your musical talent as a calming presence amidst his chaos. He’ll close his eyes and let the bass’s vibrations wash over him while nursing a glass of whiskey. It’s a rare moment of peace for him, and he appreciates the grounding effect you bring.

Vander

Vander admires how passionate you are about your bass. He’ll sit at the bar while you play, a proud smile on his face. If you ever play something upbeat, he’ll tap along or encourage the patrons to join in. Your music adds warmth to his world.

Ekko

Ekko is super impressed. He’ll gush about how “cool” you are and ask you to jam with him using makeshift instruments in the Firelights’ hideout. He calls you “Firebug” and says your bass gives off the same energy as you—electric and unforgettable.

Jayce

Jayce thinks it’s awesome and will likely get overenthusiastic, asking a million questions about your bass’s construction. He might even offer to build you a customized one, complete with Hextech modifications (you may need to reign him in before he goes overboard).

Viktor

Viktor admires your precision and rhythm. He’ll comment on the parallels between music and engineering, noting how both require intricate balance. He enjoys listening to you play while he works and occasionally hums along without realizing.

Caitlyn

Caitlyn is enamored with the elegance of your playing. She’d ask you to teach her a simple bassline, though her skills might be… questionable. She enjoys seeing you in your element and always applauds enthusiastically after a session.

Mel Medarda

Mel is drawn to the confidence your music exudes. She finds your passion inspiring and will commission artists to paint you mid-performance. She sees your bass as an extension of your personality—both powerful and mesmerizing.

Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa respects dedication, and your commitment to your craft impresses her. She enjoys watching you play, often from a relaxed position, commenting on how your music has a grounding yet commanding presence—much like you.

Maddie Nolen

Maddie admires the creativity your bass playing brings to life. She’ll eagerly ask about your inspirations and how you craft melodies. She enjoys the way your music creates an atmosphere, adding depth to any moment.

Lest

Lest’s feline senses are highly attuned to sound, and she finds the bass incredibly soothing. She’ll lay her head in your lap while you play and purr softly. She might even suggest you try incorporating some unique, whimsical elements into your music.

[danosrosegarden]

HIIII ELIII !!! firstly THANK YOU for all the work you do for danonation… you are our strongest soldier !!! 🙏🙏💕💕💕 secondly, i’d like to put in a request for the anniversary celebration !!! <3 if i could may i get glitz + edward nashton? i love that lil freak … maybe something with creepy mutual obsession? i need him to know i’m just as obsessed with him as he would be with me …. THANK YOU SO MUCH AAAH !!! ^_^

it's hot and we rot - edward nashton x gn!reader headcanons (NSFW)

elijah's anniversary celebration: post three!

✨ glitz prompt: give me a character, and i will write a nsfw piece for them. ✨

{contains: male masturbation, public masturbation, underwear thievery, sub edward, and general mutual creepiness and obsession.}

♡ Sharp, grimy talons of guilt pierce through his heart and spill the thick, gushing blood all over each time he finds himself back in the bathroom next to his cubicle. Edward Nashton knows that there's nothing good in what he's doing. There never is.

♡ But God, does it feel right. Sorry. He really shouldn't tell you that, it might make you uncomfortable, he knows. But he thinks it's something you should know. An inky black secret too revolting and shameful to keep to himself. A slowly swirling python of perverse glee wraps itself around Edward's sweat-slicked body as he pulls your underwear out of his pocket: the carnival prize he'd won for himself last time he was over at your apartment.

♡ He hears your voice swimming around in his head as he wraps it around his cock, already slick with precum and throbbing a harsh, blushing pink. That's disgusting, Edward! I trusted you, I let you into my home, and that's what you do when I'm not looking? You're a fucking freak, you know that?

♡ Jesus. He's already biting down hard on his cracked lips so as to not alert his coworkers. It's all a rolling ball of sharpened knives, a blazing firecracker of intensity...the thought of your horrified look and cruel, venom-laced words spat into his face. The idea that somebody in the office could walk in at any moment and accidentally catch sight of him through the spaces in the stall doors, crimson-cheeked and leaking all over his tightly-gripped hand.

♡ His mind runs chaotically wild as he pumps himself, the fluorescent light above his head humming a low, growling buzz. You. He wants you. He doesn't give a fuck what he has to do. He'll beg for scraps. He'll whine and plead. He'll get on his knees and pray. God, he just wants you.

♡ Heat. It rushes through his body, injects itself straight into his bloodstream. He feels the white-hot warmth tingling deep in his gut as a high whine slips from the slits in his clenched teeth. It feels dirty, what he's doing, but that's part of the charm. He feels appalling, painting his hand with thick dribbles of cum in his workplace bathroom while thinking of your acidic, outraged insults, but he cannot stop himself.

♡ Maybe it's for the better that Edward doesn't know how deeply you want him, too. He's hardly able to be around you as is without the sickening thoughts infecting his brain...if he knew you reciprocated, he would never be able to calm himself down.

♡ For sure, Edward would explode if he knew about the picture of him you kept in your bedside drawer. You took it on your Polaroid while he was over one evening, destressing from work. His smile is crooked and his hair is ratty, but that was the picture. The picture you held tight in your hand when you masturbated and whispered his name into the hot, blanketing air of your bedroom. The picture you stared longingly at when the aftershocks subsided. My precious boy. Sweet angel. I wish I could ruin you.

♡ Edward stuffs his prize back into his pocket and washes his hands with a sheen of light sweat dusted across his forehead and a heavy coat of shame wrapped around his shoulders. He knows deep down in the depths of his heart that you're far too good for him. He'd actually much rather be the loser moaning and writhing to the thought of you than risk the friendship he'd somehow managed to obtain. At least he'd gotten away with his gross thievery. Nothing more, he promised himself. There is no going further.

♡ He also knows deep down in the depths of his heart that there was no stopping the enormity of his depraved desire. It was famished and on the hunt for any fragment of you it could find. And if only he knew the same hunger lived within you, chronically clawing at your gut, demanding more, more, more. God, if only he knew.

[moonselune]

hiiii I’m such a fan! I was browsing ur page and I saw your requests were open!! I’ve had this idea that I think you could pull off really well (if you want of course) of headcannons with Gale and Wyll and whoever else you want from the main crew. But it’s a bard Tav where Tav is a really free spirited performer, kinda Stevie Nicks-ish if that makes sense? But just how they would react to their partner performing and being so filled with whimsy lol

of course, take your time, and take care of yourself, love ya 💋

aww thank you and I love you too nonnie ! oxox

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Gale:

The Elfsong Tavern was buzzing with anticipation, the usual chatter fading to a murmur as you stepped onto the small wooden stage. Tonight, the dim, flickering lanterns cast a warm glow around the room, amplifying the earthy wood tones and illuminating the eager faces of patrons crowded around their drinks. You stood under the lights, dressed in layers of flowing scarves, fringed shawls, and beads that caught every glint of candlelight, giving you an otherworldly aura. The intricate braids and delicate trinkets woven through your hair shimmered, and your movements seemed to echo the fluidity of the music you were about to bring to life.

The tavern was filled with your companions, too; Wyll and Astarion had secured a spot near the back, their friendly bickering put on pause as they waited for your performance. Shadowheart leaned casually against the wall, though her eyes sparkled with anticipation, and Karlach was already clapping her hands in encouragement. After all, you were their one shot of paying off the drinking tab they had racked up. But amid the gathered faces, it was Gale who watched you most intently, his gaze unwavering as if committing every detail to memory. You could tell he was more than eager for this; he had heard you sing before, but he’d never seen you perform like this. Tonight, he had the look of someone watching a dream come to life before him.

As you took a deep breath, your gaze met his, and you felt a jolt of warmth, steadying you before the first note escaped your lips. When you started to sing, your voice was soft yet powerful, like smoke rising from a fire, filling every corner of the room. The melody was haunting, weaving tales of distant lands, lost lovers, and ancient magic as if you were spinning a spell in every verse. The music ebbed and flowed, pulling everyone in and wrapping them in a shared reverie. You let your hands drift through the air, each gesture enhancing the magic of your performance, your body moving with an effortless grace that only added to the ethereal atmosphere.

Gale sat close, his eyes wide with wonder, his usual thoughtful expression replaced by one of pure, unfiltered awe. He had known you were talented, but he hadn’t realized the depth of your gift until this moment. It was as though he was seeing the essence of you laid bare, wrapped in a voice that seemed to pull emotions from his soul he didn’t even know he had. His hand rested over his chest as he watched, his breath shallow, and his cheeks flushed as he tried—and failed—to keep a grin off his face.

With each song, the patrons were drawn deeper into the dreamscape you painted, applauding wildly between sets, shouting for more. Coins began piling up in the small pouch you’d left at the stage’s edge, a few admirers even coming forward to drop in gems and trinkets as tokens of their appreciation. When your final song faded, you looked out at the room, allowing yourself a breath of relief and satisfaction as the patrons erupted in applause, whistles, and cheers.

Sweeping down to gather your earnings, you glanced over at Gale, giving him a knowing smile. The coins clinked together in the pouch, heavy and promising, enough to pay off the tab and keep the camp well-supplied for some time.

“So,” you teased, swinging the pouch of coins playfully, “what do you think, Master Wizard? Impressed?” You couldn’t help but smirk, enjoying the flush of color that had spread over his cheeks.

But he didn’t answer with words. Instead, he rose from his seat and, before you could say another word, leaned forward and pulled you into a kiss. His hands were gentle but sure as they settled on your waist, his lips warm and soft against yours. The kiss was deep, sweetly lingering, full of every unspoken word of adoration he could convey. You felt him smile slightly against your mouth, his kiss a mix of passion and pride, as though he couldn’t help but show you how much he cherished this moment. When he finally pulled away, there was a brightness in his eyes, a joyful awe that left you a little breathless.

“That was… breathtaking,” he murmured, voice a touch unsteady, his hand still resting lightly on your arm. “You were absolutely enchanting. You always are, but tonight… I feel as though I’ve just met you all over again.”

The way he looked at you, as though you were the only person in the world, made your cheeks warm, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly.

“You might just have to meet me all over again later, then,” you teased, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “For now, I think we’ve got some celebrating to do.”

His laugh was rich and warm as he nodded, reaching out to clasp your hand as if he couldn’t bear to let you go. The other patrons were still clapping, some singing bits of the songs you had just performed, filling the tavern with life and mirth. As you looked around, clutching Gale’s hand tightly, you felt a surge of joy and a sense of belonging that was only strengthened when you glanced back at him.

“Perhaps,” Gale said, leaning close with a mischievous grin, “we could arrange a more private encore? Not for gold this time, but… let’s say, for inspiration.”

You chuckled, cheeks still warm, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

“I’d be delighted, Gale,” you murmured, letting your thumb graze over his as you both made your way back through the crowd, the tavern still ringing with laughter and song.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Wyll:

The Elfsong Tavern was packed tonight, each seat filled and standing room claimed by folks eager to catch a glimpse of the rare performance. Word had spread that there was someone different gracing the stage, a figure draped in layers of midnight blue and silver with cascades of lace and ribbon, a glimpse of gold dusting your cheeks and collarbone. A glimmering amulet rested against your collar, catching the dim, amber tavern lights, casting an ethereal glow as you moved gracefully across the small, candle-lit stage.

At the back of the room, Wyll had found a perch along the wall, one hand resting on his hip as he leaned back, eyes fixed on you. He’d heard you sing before, often in quiet moments meant only for him and only with the flickering light of a campfire between you. It had been a comfort, the way your voice brought life to tales of distant places and people, weaving threads of fantasy that had soothed his weary spirit after long days. He’d known your voice was magic, but this was different. Tonight, you were stepping onto a stage that turned every eye in the tavern toward you, and he found himself awash in pride and something deeper, something far harder to name.

When you began to sing, the lively hum of the crowd faded into an awe-struck silence. Your voice rose, weaving tales of wild-hearted love, of spirit unbound by law or fear. Each word seemed spun from silver and mist, filling the room with a longing so palpable that Wyll felt his own heart pull with it. He barely registered the breaths he took; each one was held between your lyrics, his gaze transfixed by the way you moved, as if the tavern itself became a world of your creation, an enchanted space, and everyone present was helplessly pulled into your orbit.

You sang of love lost and found, of adventures taken in far-off lands under strange, foreign skies. The layers of your voice, low and haunting, rose to peaks of passion, before returning to gentle refrains that wrapped around each listener, drawing them into your spell.

Your eyes, half-lidded and glittering, swept the crowd but always returned to Wyll, grounding him even as he felt himself drifting deeper into your enchantment. It was as if he were seeing you for the first time, and the realization that he could fall even deeper, love you more wholly, made his heart skip a beat.

As the final note faded, the crowd broke into thunderous applause, cheers rising and the atmosphere charged with a sort of collective reverence. You smiled, a soft, almost private smile, as you offered a bow, looking radiant in the warm light, your cheeks flushed with joy. You slipped off the stage, weaving through the tables until you found yourself standing before him. Your expression shifted to that familiar look, a soft amusement in your eyes as you caught Wyll’s unblinking gaze.

“Well, my gallant hero,” you teased, nudging him playfully, “how much gold did we rake in?”

Wyll blinked, still dazed as he registered your words, his eyes slowly focusing.

“The gold… right, of course, the gold…” He fumbled in his pocket, eyes still locked onto yours as if you’d vanish if he looked away. He was meant to collect gold, to raise some money for the refugees stuck in Rivington. His lips parted, and he tried again. “The gold’s… here. I think…”

You chuckled, crossing your arms as you tilted your head, studying him with a raised eyebrow. “Wyll Ravengard, did I leave you speechless?”

“Speechless?” he said, a bit dazed, before laughing softly, his voice catching. “You left me… spellbound.” He reached for your hand, fingers grazing over your knuckles as he held your gaze, his dark eyes warm and reverent. “I knew you were magic, love. But I didn’t know…” He trailed off, swallowing as he shook his head, his hand squeezing yours. “Didn’t know you could make the world disappear like that.”

Your smile softened, your fingers tightening in his as you took a small step closer. “Just a little music, Wyll.”

“No,” he said, his voice soft but certain. “It’s you.” He lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “Every word, every note… I swear it was just for me.” You could see him wrestling with his own words, fumbling for how to say what he felt.

Finally, he let out a soft chuckle, his expression slipping into something both tender and slightly bashful as he ran a hand through his hair. “I think I’m a fool, standing here in a love-struck haze when we’ve got a tavern’s worth of coins to count."

“Maybe so,” you murmured, unable to resist a grin as you reached up, brushing a stray curl from his forehead. “But it’s quite charming, you know?”

He grinned, the teasing warmth in his expression faltering slightly as he wrapped his arms around you, drawing you close. His hand found the small of your back, his other tracing the edge of your jaw as he leaned down, his forehead resting gently against yours. His voice softened to a whisper, as if sharing a secret only meant for you.

“I don’t ever want to stop loving you like this,” he said, his breath ghosting over your cheek. “You make me feel… everything. As if all the world could vanish, and I’d still have everything I need, right here with you.”

You felt your heart stutter, warmth flooding through you as you leaned into his touch, your own fingers curling around the back of his neck.

“Wyll Ravengard,” you whispered, leaning in until your lips brushed his, “if you keep this up, we may just end up broke—because I’ll only be singing for you.”

His laughter was soft, breathy, and it melted into a sigh as he pressed his lips to yours, the tavern and its patrons fading away until it felt like just the two of you beneath a star-lit sky.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Awww i do love these softies. Hope you guys enjoyed this! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[gliphyartfan]

Hiiii, I’m back.

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

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

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

Well no more talk! Only story! Enjoy!

———

——

—

-

"Was dad upset with you today?"

"..."

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

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

And Link, he had simply stood there silently.

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

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

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

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

For many days, Link had been behaving utterly odd.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"This...isn't something I can win.." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Made him behave so strangely. 

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

Finally, he speaks, his voice quiet and defeated.

"I don't know..." 

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

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

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

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

"Why?" Colin couldn't help but ask. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That just made Colin feel worse. 

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

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

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

And Link...

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

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

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

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

——

——

It was familiar enough.

The Bublins charging into the spring. 

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

Uli’s tears and Rusl’s grave face.

The forceful tug into the Twilight.

The agony of his wolf form wrapping around him…

The cell and cuff that bound him in place…

That laughter…that mischievous grin…

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

But…

…

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

He didn’t know how to feel about it…

—-

—-

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

“Why do you continue to fail?”

Link shakes his head, grimacing. 

“I…I don’t…mean to…I-“ 

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

“Again.” 

“…Yes sir…” 

—-

—-

“You have a renewed burden." 

He chose not to reply to the fortune teller. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He scoffs. "Redemption?"

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

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

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

If his Goddess truly existed or not... 

He hoped she never forgave them. 

None of them were worthy of it.

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

He wasn’t worthy of it.

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

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

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

Twilight tensed, his fists squeezing tighter. 

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

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

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

"I won’t hear anymore..." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

—-

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

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

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

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

“Again.” 

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

--

--

"What the hell was that Link?" 

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

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

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

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

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

Midna crosses her arms, her expression skeptical.

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

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

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

He wasn't going to bother correcting her assumptions.

What he suffers through happened long after she was gone. 

...in his memories anyway.

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

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

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

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

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

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

—-

—-

“Again.” 

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

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

“Again.” 

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

 --

 --

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

Beth was still with Colin and Malo had his store. 

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

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

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

Truthfully he had no interest in being here. 

But he had no interest in speaking to Midna either. 

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

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

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

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

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

But he refused to speak to her about it. 

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

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

He...didn't want to be here. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Was he cursed to relive this path over and over? 

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

He just wanted someone to tell him... 

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

—

—

"...just kill me..." 

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

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

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

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

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

He feels empty…

He feels defeated.

—

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Nothing he said was worth focusing on." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Because you never talk to me!" 

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

"You-" 

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

He clenched his hands into tight fists.

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

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

"Link-" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

'Link, focus-"

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

“Hey! Watch it!”

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

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

Midna stays silent, hesitation flickering in her eye. 

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

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

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

"Let go of me..." 

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

"I said let go," he repeats. 

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

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

"Let go of me Midna..." 

"What'll happen if I do?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He wanted this all to be a horrible dream. 

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

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

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

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

…

….

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

..What the hell…

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

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

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

What a situation she landed herself in. 

…

Stuck in a damp dungeon with an unconscious frenzied hero. 

...

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

…

…

“This sucks..” 

—

—

"Again.” 

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

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

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

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

"No I'm not!" 

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

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

The shade said nothing. 

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

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

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

"You are troubled. It clouds your heart." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Link shook away those thoughts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

An indication that he was weak. 

…weak…

…

No…

Nononono..

He couldn't afford to be weak. 

No. Never. 

Not when being weak means losing what matters. 

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

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

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

"What are you doing?!?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And it is your fault.” 

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

The Shade's voice is low and accusatory.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Keep her away from those who would harm. 

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

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

"...I.."

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

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

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

Link's heart races. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Had he truly been so blind..?

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

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

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

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

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

Link says nothing, tears falling down his cheeks.

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

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

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

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

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

Of trust. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

--

.

.

.

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

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

"Hmph, finally awake are we?" 

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

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

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

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

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

Midna's impish features twist into a bitter smirk.

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

He look around, trying to get his bearings. 

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

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

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

"I'll say, you went crazy!" 

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

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

 Link sighs, rubbing his forehead.

To think he'd breakdown like that. 

He really had been running from it all. 

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

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

“Safe to say, they mean something to you.” She huffs.

 Link stays silent for a few moments, deep in thought. The dim light of the torches illuminates his face, highlighting the conflict and anxiety etched into his features. He then shakes his head, letting out a sigh. 

"...I made a mistake," he admits slowly, his voice still hoarse. "It...hurt someone very precious to me." 

"Oh?" Midna floated closer to him, "What'd you do so bad that it made you like THAT?" 

Link opened his mouth but closed it a moment after, looking away. 

 The room grows quiet once more, save for the crackling of the torches. Link's eyes lower to the ground, reflecting the guilt and regret he feels. Midna, sensing his discomfort, waits patiently for him to continue. After a few moments, Link finally speaks up, still looking away.

"I hurt her," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "We all did..." 

"..'We'?" 

He shakes his head, his mouth in a firm line. 

 Midna's eyes narrow, trying to make sense of Link's words. She cocks her head to the side, studying him carefully. "Alright, so you hurt someone you care about. But who's 'we'?"

Link's grip tightens around his phantom sword, his jaw setting. He doesn't look at Midna, instead focusing on a distant point on the floor. "It's not important right now."

 Link's response only serves to pique Midna's curiosity further. She can tell that he's holding something back, but she doesn't want to push him too hard and risk shutting him down entirely. 

Or worse, go crazy again. 

Instead, she decides to change tactics.

"Fine, keep your secrets," she says with a shrug. 

There was a moment of silence. 

“. . .So did you mean to do it?” 

“…H-Huh?” Midna tsk’d. 

“Did you. mean to. hurt your friend?” Link took a moment to register what she asked. 

“No…no I would never…” he whispered, the Twili could see his already pale skin turn a few shades whiter. 

“Well that response at least means you got part 1 down of mending things right.” She rolled her eyes at his look. 

“Let me tell you something, Link. You're not the only one who's made mistakes."

 Midna's words hang heavy in the air, breaking the tense silence that had settled over the room. Link continues to gaze at the floor, lost in thought. The torchlight flickers across his face, casting deep shadows that seem to reflect the turmoil in his heart.

"I know," he says softly, his voice filled with pain. "But this was different. For me. For us all. The results-She-we…we didn't..."

 Midna sighs,  she can tell that he's not ready to open up about it. After another few moments of silence, Midna breaks the tension again.

"Alright, I get it. You don't want to talk about it right now." She straightened up and put her hand on her hip as she floats closer to him. "But you clearly don't have the means or time to even try to fix whatever it is that's happening with you." 

He looked at her with tired eyes, and she frowned. 

"If it were me, who hurt someone I cared about..." she tapped her chin, "and I had no choice BUT to hold off on making amends...I'd at least take the time and accept that I did something wrong." 

Link sent her a questioning looking and she huffed at him.

"Well how many times have you heard someone apologize but never bothered to understand what they did wrong? Apologizing is great but it means squat if you didn't bother to figure out WHY you're in the dog house...pun intended." 

Midna's words seem to strike a chord with Link, who looks up at her with a slightly more alert expression. She can see the gears turning in his head as he considers her words. After a few moments, he nods slowly, remaining silent as he absorbs what she said. 

"Great, you finally realize a fact about yourself, “ she raises her hands up and shakes them in a Ta-da motion, “Congratulations, you’re a flawed creature.”

He blinks slowly at her, making her sigh again.

“So, if you're not gonna have a meltdown any time soon, let's get this place over with." She says, clapping her hands once and floating over to his sword and shield. 

He remained seated, eyes following her before shortly getting up. 

The rest of the dungeon was rather quiet compared to what he remembered, words only spoken when absolutely necessary. 

. . . He didn't know how to feel about it. 

—

—

The shade did not appear in his dreams anymore. 

A part of him felt relieved…to no longer be stared down by a visage of his mentor… 

Another part of him mourned the only other person who knew everything he hid. 

Even if that person was simply a construct that his mind created…

…(perhaps it was for the best…) 

—

—

He knew he should have at least announce his departure, instead of leaving a vague note on the entrance to his home. 

Link knew he would worry Colin and his family. Knew Rusl would ask around for him, only for frustration to build when no one would know where Link was. 

But he simply couldn’t take it anymore 

Everything was too much and too little. 

There was no journey to distract him anymore, no danger for him to defeat. 

No princess of Twilight to yank his attention away from his thoughts from the moment she spoke. 

What did it say about who he had become? That staring down at the corpse of Ganon, the very person who caused so much damage to the land, made Link feel nothing but disappointment. 

Midna was gone now. He hadn’t realized how much he had depended on her presence to keep him grounded. 

The land was safe once more. The people of Ordon were reunited once again. 

Returning to Ordon, returning to that small world that once had been so big to him. 

All he wanted to do was escape it. 

It had all become too much. All so very much. 

Everyone knew it. No one said anything but the rancher could tell. Could see their gazes, hated it no matter how well-meaning they were. 

Their voices, once so soothing, irked him to the point that he wanted to tear off his own ears just for total silence. 

If not his ears, then their very tongues. 

He probably would have been horrified by his thoughts, had he been who he once was. 

Even now it caused him pain. He didn’t want to look at them and feel anger. 

It pained him. (It scared him.)

It was only when he numbly contemplated harm towards the villagers that he knew he had to leave. 

He had to get out as quickly as he possibly could.  Least he gives in to those overwhelming thoughts. 

(And a part of him feared their reaction, should he breakdown in front of them just as he had done in front of Midna.) 

So he left. Quietly during the early hours, long before the sun had even begin to rise. 

A quick glance through his supplies and a gentle pat to sooth Epona and he was off. 

He knows he’ll make everyone worry. A dull sense of guilt pulsing in his chest. But it was pushed down by the sense of ‘far too much’ within him. 

All he could do was pray that wherever the path led him next, it would bring some sort of relief. 

Perhaps he would return home with a stronger resolve. Perhaps he could find peace. 

Perhaps…he could return with a smile that wasn’t on the verge of tearing itself apart…

. . .

. .

.

(…He could only really hope.)

[nondelphic]

Hiiii! May I ask for some advice? After a really long time of not writing fan fic, I recently started getting back into it but have been struggling… So I started using a little bit of the chat.ai help me but I feel icky about it but at the same time, I’m constantly struggling with writers block and being burnt out… What should I do?

i'm actually really glad you asked this because i've been preparing a post about using ai responsibly for writing, might just post it here lol:

tldr: this post isn’t about using ai to generate your story for you. it’s about how to utilize ai to enhance your writing process while still keeping your voice and creativity at the forefront.

the rise of ai has stirred up a lot of talk about ethics, originality, and how much tech should really be in our creative space. as writers, our work is highly personal, it's a reflection of our thoughts and experiences. so it’s totally normal to feel icky about bringing ai into the mix.

here's a hot take, though: ai isn’t here to replace your creativity. it doesn’t get the deep, emotional layers that only a human writer can bring. sure, ai can generate text, but it doesn’t really understand what it’s saying. that’s where some of the ethical concerns come in—if we rely too much on ai, we risk losing that personal touch that makes our stories resonate.

on the flip side, when used thoughtfully, ai can actually boost your creative process instead of taking away from it. think of ai as a helpful assistant, it can take care of some of the boring, tedious stuff, giving you more space to focus on what really matters: writing your story, your way. it’s not about letting ai take over, but using it to support and streamline your process.

this is not a post about my experience with ai, but i have to say, that as someone with adhd, ai has been a game-changer for me. it helps me keep track of my ideas, organize my thoughts, and even manage my writing schedule when my brain is all over the place. it's like having an extra set of hands (or, you know, a brain) to help me stay on top of everything, so i can focus more on the actual creative part of writing.

the key is to make sure ai never overshadows your original voice or creative vision. ai should be a tool that helps you bring your ideas to life, not something that writes the story for you. if you’re curious about how to use ai in your writing process while keeping your authenticity intact, here are some tips to do it responsibly:

brainstorming ideas: when you’re stuck on a plot point or character development, use ai to generate prompts or ideas. these can spark new directions for your story, giving you fresh perspectives to explore.

dialogue experimentation: if your dialogue feels flat, try using ai to generate conversation snippets based on your characters. it might not be perfect, but it can give you new ideas for how your characters might interact.

synonym suggestions: tired of using the same word over and over? ai can help you find synonyms or alternative phrases, keeping your writing fresh without losing your voice. i've found this very helpful as an ESL writer!

outline generation: got a rough idea but need a structure? use ai to create a basic outline, then tweak it to fit your vision. it’s a great way to get a head start on organizing your story.

character backstories: use ai to brainstorm character traits, backstories, or names. you can take these ideas and expand on them, adding the depth and personality that only you can create.

quick research assistance: save time by using ai for quick facts or historical details. it lets you focus more on storytelling and less on getting bogged down in research. (disclaimer: never 100% trust what an ai generates, fact check everything). i've found it a great starting point if i have a very niche question for my research.

editing help: use ai for basic grammar and spelling checks to speed up your editing process. just remember, it’s your judgment that will shape the final draft, not the ai’s.

plot analysis: use ai to scan your draft for plot holes or inconsistencies. it can help identify gaps in logic or missing links in your storyline, giving you a clearer idea of where to tighten things up.

tone consistency: ai can help you maintain a consistent tone throughout your story by analyzing your draft and suggesting adjustments where the tone shifts unexpectedly.

pacing adjustments: ai can review the pacing of your story, highlighting sections that may be too slow or too rushed, helping you find the right balance.

character consistency: track your characters' traits, behaviors, and dialogue to ensure they remain consistent throughout the story, preventing out-of-character moments.

theme reinforcement: use ai to analyze how well your themes are being conveyed across the narrative, suggesting areas where you might strengthen or clarify your message.

draft comparison: if you’ve gone through multiple drafts, ai can compare them to highlight what’s changed, what’s been improved, and what might have been lost in the revisions.

to answer your question more personally, i think we can never please everyone, and ai will continue to be developed and get better and better. i understand feeling icky about using ai, and you might get judged for it, but do what you need to do, tbh.

i have found myself in a writing routine where i use most of the advice above in my writing process. i write most of my work myself, but i use ai as a tool to bounce ideas off of, and it's been a life changer. i managed to finish my first novel draft with the help of ai, and it fuelled my creativity to have "someone" (or rather something) to feed my ideas and help them identify what i could do better.

[2036sator]

hiiii :3 what r ur opinions on the characters in the cgvl and lha? Character wise, design wise, etc... (including freedom guy 🤭) I'm just really curious :3

[[ AA dude i’m gonna go so in depth w/ this !!!! this is personally from what I recently discovered from these characters so , i am kinda new to LHA and CGVL ,, not freedom guy tho lolol ]]

[[ Let’s start with LHA ^_^ ]]

> FREEDOM GUY - design wise … absolutely cool i can’t really explain how much i enjoy doodling him no matter what design he has , always loved the old design !! Red scarf is iconic to him and made him stand out even if its a bit plain… but other than the old design, new design kitt recently has made im ssooooooo inlove with how he became so …. HE LOOKS SASSY AT ONE POINT LOOOKING AT HIM FOR HOURS . his old design with his iconic hands on his hips pose already made me think he was all shiny sassy star that everyone praises of lllolololol 7_7 character wise by personality is great overall , he’s a code yet he is so , humane that being the therapist plus saviour is tiring even for a code sobbbb ilove gushing about freedom guy if u can’t tell

> FROST - design wise ? Love it . I would say that I love drawing Frost as well as much as I love to draw Freedom Guy :3 Character wise … very kewl…. I need to see more of frost stuff ………

> TANGERINE - DESIGN WISE AAHHHH OHMYGOD I have something for orange sticks idk why but she looks so cool i never actually noticed she even had like scars until i went thru deep into the LHA bloggers just to noticed she has like two or three scars like WHAT !!! Character wise , If she went to my school I would wanna be her friend tbh she seems fun to be around ^_^

> CION - Design wise is just… chefs kiss , I love drawing her marble head and drawing her in my design where she has like kind of maybe water ish? Or fire ish blob around it just bc I can’t see her with hair so instead I just made blobs that made to look like she has hair el o el ,,,overallll!! Super cool I love cloaks … Character wise is yes , just yes . Ilove the looks can be deceived like how Cion and Tangerine is the same just different fonts

> LUCKY - hhhahah lucky block…. I made Lucky’s head more not circular bc srsly I would totally believe lucky if xe told me xe was birthed from a lucky block. So it’s more geometrical? Character wise ilove xem ilove hackers and I don’t know much of Lucky ,,,still xe’s super cool either way

== WOOOOO CGVL IS NEXT ==

> SCRIBBLES - from what ive seen im surprised this is actually and technically the leader of cgvl and its just , a little scribble stick ( in a positive way not insulting ) , probably my favourite... ( i cant decide with scribs and rose ) ,,, character wise!!! ive seen a little bit of scribbles story and im cheering so hard scribs is so cool and with the programmer lore and everything going on is super interesting and all overall really cool character , easy to doodle when im bored in school

> VIX - oh jeez . can we get vix neutered . / LIGHTHEARTED JOKE ... Unique creature , i love the head design even though it sometimes confuses me when i try to doodle the back of vix :9 ., character wise .. freaky .... you a freak girl!!! also!!! I LOVE cannibal characters when they're all actually attached to a person then they soemtimes can't get over the thought of eating them ( filling them with guilt ) i love when cannibals feel bad for what they are ( technically its a parasite for vix's case but still!!! )

>ROSE - ohhhhhhhhh i almost tripped when i saw rose , pink characters save me ... shes so pretty by the design wise category .. made me jealous of her gender smhhhh.... character wise , mischievous thief and i would let her steal my whole house if she wanted to

> GEO - i wanna squeeze geo but i cant :( character wise by what ive seen from like interactions(?) and lore , its really interesting and really cool ( reminds me of another interest i have but who cares ) still i understand how frost would baby geo

> ENTI & BUG ( NO IMAGE NOOOOOO MY LIMIT NOOOOOO ) - big guys so cool they would absolutely obliterate me . i dont know them much but i wanna know more about them .... i need itt...

[cabezadeperro]

Hell!! Can i suggest 💕 with qi'rahsoka?

hiiii! it's been a while since i wrote them!!!

established situationship, enemies & lovers, post solo. T, ~840w. the prompt was 💕 kissing somewhere other than lips

---

Ahsoka rolls her shoulders and breathes out slowly, knowing herself partly hidden by the cell’s lack of light. Now and then the walls and the ground tremble, freight making the trip from the mines to the city and back, the tracks dug deep into the rock like so many veins.

It’s cold and it’s smelly and she doesn’t like the way the Force feels there, so deep underground. It’s loud, but not as much as it should, and it feels off, like when you find something wet and slimy in the depths of your trouser pocket.

The cuffs are just plain durasteel, and that means—what. 

Either Qi’ra’s not as smart as she thinks she is, or she’s exactly as clever as she looks and she wants something. Ahsoka closes her eyes, breathes in and out. Her back hurts where they hit her with the batons, the bruises throbbing, pain locking up her limbs and making her thoughts slow and sluggish.

It occurs to her that she’s getting too old for this. 

The worst thing is—she saw it coming. Qi’ra’s a pretty face hiding a depthless well of ambition. She’s ruthless and she’s smart and she is very good at killing her better instincts dead, and then killing them again. She is playing a dangerous game—working with Maul, selling intelligence to both the Empire and the Rebellion—and she is playing it well.

Too well. 

Ahsoka sighs. She rolls her shoulders again, and then her neck. Something pops in her jaw, and she yawns, tastes the air on the back of her tongue. Speeder exhaust, animal droppings; fear sweat, blood and urine. Death, cloying and almost sweet, and the metallic taste of spice under it all, cutting through rock, flesh and shit like they are not even there.

A metal door clangs down the corridor. Four people; one of them is Qi’ra. She has a very particular way of walking, and Ahsoka believes it’s partly because of the shoes she usually wears, but not quite. She’d recognise it anywhere: she moves the same way on bare feet.

(It occurs to Ahsoka that she should stop sleeping with the job.)

The door to her cell opens with a creak, and Ahsoka yawns again, leans her head against the wall at her back. They got her once on the fleshy part of her back lekku, and she thinks it’s going to scar, and she’s—unreasonably annoyed about this fact. It’s another mark to disguise, something else to take care of, to hide. 

Qi’ra steps inside. The door closes again, and Ahsoka snorts. She stands up slowly, because she’s tired and she’s in pain and because she has nowhere to be, and looks down at Qi’ra.

She’s wearing dark purple. It doesn’t fit her: it makes her look ill.

Ahsoka doesn’t doubt for a second that it’s on purpose.

She’s so—small. Small, and soft. She looks younger than she is with her round face and big eyes, and when she smiles she knows how to make it look like she means it. 

Ahsoka doesn’t smile back: Qi’ra pouts.

“It wasn’t personal,” she says, her voice warm. “You know it. I just needed you out of the way for a bit.”

“You know,” Ahsoka replies. “That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

Qi’ra hums. “I’m very sorry about that.”

Ahsoka rolls her eyes. 

So Maul really was there. Ahsoka thought she could sense him, but then—then something reached back, and she had to hide herself away again, scurrying between minds and hearts with the ease of five years of constant practice.

Her fingers are very soft and very warm on Ahsoka’s cold cheek. She allows herself to be touched, Qi’ra running the pads of her fingers down her jaw and neck until they rest on Ahsoka’s collarbone.

“You should look more scared,” Qi’ra says suddenly. She’s not looking Ahsoka in the face anymore, but lower, to the place where Qi’ra’s hand is still touching her. Ahsoka’s lekku brush against the front of Qi’ra’s short cloak, the silk cool like running water. “They will like that.”

Ahsoka blinks. She wants to show Qi’ra her teeth: she wants to snarl and break the cuffs and the door and the cell in a thousand tiny pieces. She wants to find the men who hurt her, and hurt them right back.

“You are not a very good liar,” Qi’ra continues. She smiles to herself and steps away: her hand disappears under her cloak once again. “Are you?”

There is something about her that makes Ahsoka want to be the girl she was five years ago, right before the world ended. Angry, but also hopeful. Righteous. Not just angry.

(She kissed her. Qi’ra kissed her right before she left her in that room. She thought Ahsoka was asleep: she must have. Dry lips, shy, almost sweet and on her cheek. And then the door clicking closed, and then the guards and the cell and this.)

She waits until Qi’ra’s left the room. By the time the guards return, Ahsoka’s very far away, in her bunk on her ship, licking her wounds and sleeping off a secondhand spice headache.

[pink-lighter]

chicken feet: what is your emotional "flaw"?

red cheeks: what makes you nervous?

sunflower: what do you love and cherish?

bells: what sounds are your favorite or calm you the most? turnip: what is a food you could eat everyday?

spit: do you get jealous easily?

hiiii i love you sm!!!!

chicken feet: for me, it always boils down to fear. i have a desire to maintain a distance between myself and my emotions, especially as it pertains to communication. it’s so hard for me to express my emotions verbally, and it’s so hard to articulate them in a way that captures their breadth; the only way i can ever do my emotions justice is through writing and written language. writing creates the perfect amount of distance between myself and what i am saying — traces of my soul linger, but only if you look, like the writing stands in for my presence. i guess all of that is the say that honesty scares me, and to express my emotions verbally puts me at the centre of that sincerity.

i’m also afraid that the way i think and feel and think about how i feel is inherently pretentious. sometimes, i feel like i’m so far disconnected from reality that nobody else could possibly relate to my thoughts or feelings. the things i have to say are preposterous, or worse yet, they are clichéd and unoriginal, as if the depths of my emotional undercurrents are that of a stock character. this might also be a driving force in my fear of vulnerability. i’m considerably less scared of this now than i have been in the past, especially after a conversation i had which a friend: he said that making music felt essential for his life, and immediately made a joke that it sounded douchey. i quoted the idiot by elif batuman, and said that saying things you know to be true always sounds a little pretentious.

as mentioned before, i have a very deep-rooted fear of vulnerability. i’m afraid that if i am not constantly performing, or brightening other people’s worlds, they will leave me. i’m learning to accept that in order to meaningfully let someone in, i have to allow them to see the worst parts of me, shine a light on parts that i am scared and ashamed of, and choose to stay. moreover, arguably the worst part of myself — my fear of vulnerability and sincerity — will never go away unless i continually confront it by letting the people i love confront it too.

red cheeks: a lot! i get really flustered in the people i perceive to be very intelligent, or look up to in some way, because i want them to like me and think i’m smart. i get nervous around crushes. i get nervous when i’m ordering food at a place i don’t normally go to, and i’m afraid of asking for something in a stupid way. i’m afraid of asking for my medication at a pharmacy because i never know what to say. “i’m here to pick up my medication.” no shit. it’s a pharmacy.

sunflower: i am filled with so much love, so it’s hard to keep this answer concise! i really love all my friends, and i’d do anything for them. i just feel so incredibly known when i talk to them. my friend was helping me with my homework today, and while she was on call with her mum, her mum said “tell [name redacted] that i love her!” human interaction and connection is just so beautiful. i love when i’m walking and the sun is shining. i love the curve of my lips. i love listening to music and feeling it make a permanent home in my heart. i love existing in the world and seeing all my love and care for other people reflected back at me. i’m listening to elliott smith’s cover of thirteen, and thinking about someone i love and care about dearly. i love writing and reading. i love studying, and i’m so grateful that i’m getting an education. i love architecture, especially architecture that makes you feel like inhabiting it is a perpetual act of discovery. a building on my campus has very decorative vents. i love tea, all the different and enticing flavours i can choose from. i love smiling, and being smiled at. i love fresh fruits and vegetables, and cooking them. i love the sound of laughter. i love learning, and i never wish to stop. i love my eyes. i love curling up underneath my blanket. i love love.

bells: oooh, i love the sound of rain! the sound of a really thunderous rain in the morning or early afternoon on a day when you have nothing to do and nowhere to go is particularly delightful.

turnip: right now, it’s this tomato and aubergine spaghetti i made last night. i think this might just be because i had it so recently. in general, i don’t really want to only have one food for the rest of my life. anyways, here’s how i made the pasta: i cubed the aubergine, salted it to extract the bitterness, and roasted it with olive oil. i semi-caramelised some onions, then added garlic and cubed tomatoes. i salted the tomatoes to extract some water from them, and then i added some pasta water and let them boil in that until the tomatoes softened and i crushed them a bit with the back of the wooden spoon. i added chilli flakes, chilli powder, black pepper, and dried basil. then, i added the boiled spaghetti and roasted aubergine. below is a phot of said tomato-aubergine pasta

spit: i hate feeling jealous, but, yeah, i think i do get jealous easily. i think the thing i get most jealous of is when my friends have parents that treat them like adults. my friend and his girlfriend took a trip a few years back, and i could help but feel so jealous that he could just…go? i know it’s unfair, but i just wished i could also go places without asking for permission.

[luna-redamancy]

hiiii! I was wondering if I could possibly get a fluff prompt 2 + smaug? maybe he survives but still falls in the lake and reader (current s/o) pulls him from the lake and yeah???

Hi Nonnie!! Here you go, I hope you enjoy:

(A/N: please forgive any grammatical errors, I’m having to write on my cellphone)

“(Y/n)!” Smaug screeched out, but to many it just sounded like a defeated roar of a dragon. He was terrified. Where were you, his little human mate? Were you safe? Did the dwarves that tried to send him to his demise find you or were you still peaceful in your nest in the far north corner of the gold hoard. He didn’t know.

Smaug’s struggling halted, wings stiffening in the air before shifting back into human arms, scales littering his skin. His eyes rolled back as his body finally began to give out, one last whimper leaving him as his body crashed into the cold icy water, darkness overtaking him.

Little did he know, you were there. Tears flew down your cheeks as you rowed the small boat with a vigor. Ignoring the burn in your arms, you kept pushing onward as you finally reached the spot where he descended. The surface of the lake bubbled as the last of his oxygen left his body. Not caring for the fact that you’d likely freeze to death, you jumped off the side of the boat into the dark depths. You had to try.

The water was frigid, making your body almost want to lurch back into the boat, but you continued swimming downward. Just as your lungs began to burn- you found him.

Crimson scales caught your attention first, then the horns as the moonlight illuminated them. Reaching forward, you grabbed him under his arms, kicking as hard as you could to get him to the surface.

Gasping for air, you grunted as you pushed Smaug on the boat before getting yourself up. As you settled for rowing, you ignored your shivers as you brushed the wet hair out of Smaug’s face.

“It’ll be okay,” You didn’t know if you said that for him or for yourself as you began rowing back to the shore.

When Smaug awoke, he didn’t expect warmth. He didn’t expect to be alive at all, now that he thought about it. Golden eyes glanced around the room, confusion filling him as he took in the atmosphere.

The room was musty but not unbearable, the window on the right of him was still intact, and so was the ceiling. The makeshift bed wasn’t too bad either.

Somehow the two of you ended up at an abandoned cabin at the edge of the Mirkwood forest, as you tried your best to not get spotted by the survivors of Smaug’s destruction of Esgaroth. It was seemingly abandoned after catching fire, the front of the house being charred but the back bedroom was still perfectly intact.

Suddenly he became aware of a weight on his left hand.

Alarmed, his eyes snapped to the left, ready to leap out of the bed if necessary but as soon as his eyes laid on you they softened.

His left hand cradled in between the two of yours as you rested your head on top of them, a furrowed expression on your face.

Grunting, Smaug sat up, careful to not move his left hand from your grasp. Fighting a pained gasp as the now dressed wound in his chest spasmed with his movement.

Breathing deeply through his nose, the pain mattered not as he took his right hand to card his fingers through your hair.

The soothing sensation awoke you from your fitful sleep, eyes blinking rapidly as you processed your surroundings.

“Smaug?” Your voice was groggy with sleep, attempting to sit up before he gently shushed you, guiding your head back down.

“It’s alright darling, sleep,” The deep baritone of his voice soothed your worries, your furrowed brow relaxing as he continued to pet your hair.

Making a humming sound, you nuzzled your face against his left hand.

“It’ll be okay.” Was the last you heard before you slipped back into unconsciousness, your heart finally at peace knowing he survived and was no longer on the brink of death.

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[aewhore]

Hiiii!! Could I maybe request a little fluff with Adam Page? Maybe with some smut for good measure? I love your work 💙 thank you!

A Sunday kind of love ~ Hangman Adam Page x FemReader

(A/N: I'm so sorry I haven't been uploading fics as often as id like! I love you all and hope you can be patient with me! I'm trying I promise! Anywho I hope you love this! @rubyred1980 Enjoy!)

Sunday mornings were your favourite, you were able to lie in the arms of your loving fiancee for as long as you want. Spending hours in the early morning in the loving embrace of your favourite cowboy. His arms were wrapped around your waist, keeping your back tight to his chest, his head buried in the crook of your neck. You were completely encased by Adam and you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world.

You gently move your hand to cover Adam’s that was laying on your stomach. You lightly trace patterns on the back of Adam’s hand as you bask in his warmth. You feel Adam begin to stir. “Morning darling.” Adam’s morning voice was husky, you loved it. You could feel the rumble in Adam’s chest as he spoke. His hand moves from your stomach to underneath his shirt you wore to bed where he lightly grips your bare hip. He pulls you tighter to his chest as he lifts his head to kiss your temple. “Nothing beats waking up to you baby.” you could feel his stubble tickling your neck as he gently kissed from your temple along your jaw down your neck where he began to gently suck and leave love bites. “Good morning baby, what time is it?” you grumble back to Adam. You know you will need to get up soon but you can't help but melt into Adam’s embrace. “It's time you stay in bed with your handsome fiance” you smile at Adam's reluctance to budge from your shared cocoon.

Settled back into Adam's arms, You almost fall back asleep until you feel him move from behind you. You bite your lip when you realize what Adam is doing. His arms have tightened around your waist as his breaths become shallow and quick. His hips lightly hump against your ass, you can feel him hardening against your thigh. “Good morning daddy” you whisper and smile when you hear Adam’s deep groan against your neck. “I’m sorry beautiful, I know this was gonna be your lie in but I can’t help myself when you look like an angel grinding back on me.” heat fills your body as your cheeks redden and your pussy begins to throb with need. “Mmm daddy I think you have a little problem that I could help you with” You smile as you move Adam's hand to your chest and he gives you a gentle squeeze. “Little problem? Angel, I think you know better than anyone it's anything but little.” You smile at Adam’s confidence but are cut short by a moan when you feel his hand move from your hip to run his fingers through your folds. “Mmm baby you already feel so good, so nice and wet for me” you can feel your pussy throb with a need to be filled by Adam. Adam lifts your leg to give himself easy access, A loud gasp and a moan rip through you when you feel Adam guide his cock into you, slowly stretching you as he fills your needy hole. “Not so little now is it huh? Fuck you feel so good, tight and wet like a perfect angel” adam taunts but his shallow thrust are causing your eyes to roll into the back of your head. Adam had a big cock, there was no disputing it, he wasn't called hangman for nothing! And he knew how to use it so you fell apart multiple times while he fucked you senseless but this wasn't one of those times, this was sensual and slow he was taking his time loving and relearning your body so you never question how much he truly loved you so.

Adam had resumed biting then soothing the love bites with kisses and kitten licks wherever he could reach on your throat, shoulders and neck. His thrusts were increasing in depth and speed as your tits began to bounce against Adam’s hand and you could feel your orgasm quickly building. “Fuck angel you're so tight, Jesus I love you so much, so beautiful, so perfect” Adam pants in your ear, you can feel his cock begin to throb inside you as he too comes close to his climax. His cock was hitting all the right spots in you as he filled you so perfectly, his hand moved from holding your leg up to rub tight circles on your neglected clit and your orgasm hit you almost immediately after, your pussy gushes cum around Adam’s cock as he fucks you through your orgasm chasing his own. You continue to moan and buck your hips back against Adams thrusts to encourage his orgasm. His orgasm hits as he's thrust deep inside of you, painting your tight walls with thick ropes of his cum. You both still as you feel the aftershocks of your mutual orgasms. Adam goes to pull his now softened cock out but you let out a whine of protest. “Angel, I have to go clean us up” Adam tried to reason with you but you pulled his arms back around you. “Hmm later, sleep in me now, please daddy” you plead with Adam. “Ok angel, anything for you my love.” He settled back behind you, giving you small kisses on the neck before you felt his breathing even out indicating he had already fallen back asleep. As sleep began to take over your mind you smiled as you felt Adam’s cock twitch from within you, you couldn't wait for your second round whenever you both woke up.

[lostboybae]

hiiii it’s been 84 years since i’ve written/made anything for ouat fandom, but seeing sf week posts has made me nostalgic; this doesn’t fit a prompt, but i had plotted out a charmed s6/seven year witch au where neal/emma’s future daughter time travels back to change the past. tbh I’m not sure if I’m going to revisit a full sf fic anytime soon, but I thought I’d just post what I’d already written bc it was Fun! 

---

Once upon a time, in a forest not so far away, something out of the ordinary happened on the outskirts of a small town with big secrets. A near-madman escaped his cage. An almost-lost son returned. An evil witch plotted, a not-quite-evil witch schemed, and a good witch paced the length of a diner, instinctively reaching to touch a gun that was no longer at her waist. In the forest, there was a flash of light. There was a tumble, and a fall. And then there was just a girl.

(Woman. Almost.)

"Seriously?" she muttered, tilting her head back at the sky. Blonde hair whipped at her shoulders as a particularly nasty gust of wind blew by, and she shrugged into her worn leather jacket for warmth. "The forest? How am I supposed to know if it worked when the stupid spell dropped me off in the forest?"

The wind blew again, harder this time. The girl winced, turning and ducking her head, shielding her eyes against the stray bits of dirt and leaf it had picked up. 

Finally, she looked up.

Right at the Storybrooke well. "Bingo," she muttered, allowing herself a grin. She made her way to the well, kicking at a loose stone 6 inches up from the bottom. She'd been 7 years old when her brother had first shown her this place: their hiding spot. He'd leave letters for her to find, or little trinkets and souvenirs from his trips out of town. It had been silly, but it had been secret, and secrets felt very important at that age. Her brother won't even discover the loose stone until 2014. He'll have hidden something consistently in that spot after that. If she's right, if this worked, it'll be— Empty. She grinned triumphantly, then pulled a flask from her jacket. She brushed the dirt from her jeans as she stands, before moving to lower the well's bucket into its magical depths. "You have to separate us."

"No," Emma said, tightening her grip on Neal's hands. "You'll die."

"Emma. You need him to save your family. Please."

Emma Swan hated Neal Cassidy. She hated him a thousand times over, because nothing is ever fair with Neal Cassidy. He broke her heart over and over again because he's good, and this whole good deal fucking sucked. In the end, she does it, because she's good too. That's what heroes do. They die and they watch the people they love die because they don't have a choice. It's bullshit. He's dying in her arms and it's bullshit. "I can fix him!" Emma whips her head up, still cradling Neal. A teenage girl has skidded out from who knows where, frantically holding up a flask. "Who the hell are you?" "A friend," she says firmly. "And I can fix him. For now, anyway." "You can't fix death," said a voice, low and dangerous and already grieving. Emma had never been truly terrified of Rumplestilskin, but in this moment, in the face of that much pain, he made the blood in her veins run cold. The girl rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I know. He's not dead yet." "What are you talking about?" Emma snapped, before Gold could do something stupid or terrible or both. "Who the hell are you?" "Lily," she said, smoothly. "Lily Miller. I'm from the future." "The future," Emma said, dubiously. "Yeah, but just 18 years or so," she shrugged. Emma stared incredulously. "Time travel isn't possible, dearie," Gold sneered. "But it's about to be, isn't it?" Gold stiffened. Emma whipped her head around to look at him. "What is she talking about, Gold?" "Look, we don't have time for this," Lily said, impatiently. "History shows Neal Cassidy died today, and Storybrooke sort of goes to shit not long after. If we change this, we might be able to change that." "And how do we do that? Put them back?" "No," Lily shook the flask in her hand. "This is water from the Storybrooke well. It's--" "Magic," Gold finished for her, a dangerous look in his eyes. "But it isn't a cure." "No, it's not," she shrugged. "But it'll buy you some time." "Wait, like the water David took in Neverland?" Emma said, frowning. "Exactly like that," Lily said. "It runs between realms, connects them." Emma took a deep breath. "Okay. Come here." She shifted Neal in her arms a bit, taking the flask from Lily. "Hey you," she mumbled. "Emma--" "Don't Emma me. Looks like you don't get to leave us this time." Neal gave her a weak smile. "Come on. Drink this for me, okay?" When he drinks, when the color comes back to his cheeks, when he's not dying—she almost fucking drops him from the shock of the relief flooding through her muscles. "Close call," he laughs, grinning in disbelief. Emma wipes at her eyes, grinning back. "You asshole," she agrees.

[hrrytomlinson]

hiiii, here are a bunch of fics I’ve enjoyed and loved reading throughout the month of february. I recommend that you read these great fics in march, if you haven’t already. there are SO many good and unique AUs this round, so please check them out!!

(all fics with a star are my favorites and if there are two stars then it was a favorite favorite)

1. Saved Tonight (30k)**

Harry is the world's most persistent seduction-baker, a questionable dog-sitter, and Louis's biggest fan. Louis hasn't written in years, is trying to pass loneliness off as cynicism, and absolutely hates his fans. It's probably destiny.

2. Too Real to Fake It (82k)*

With seven years of blissful marriage behind them and four wonderfully unique kids to brag about, Harry and Louis seem to finally have life all figured out and under control. How much more real could it get?

Very real it turns out, when Harry reluctantly leaves home for a 5 day business trip leaving Louis to manage their rambunctious, hyperactive household. Do they really have it all under control or are they just faking it?

Featuring all the usual suspects, inside jokes, embarrassing moments and of course, Harry and Louis' wild antics + the addition of their four equally wild and outrageous kids.

3. When You Look Like That (16k)*

“You… you still have the dress form I got you for your eighteenth birthday? You've kept it for ten years, Harry?” Louis’ eyes flick around Harry’s studio. It’s big and modern, with floor to ceiling windows that help flood the room in bright sunlight, just like the lobby. However, he can't stop staring at the faded, but present, heart surrounding the “H + L” written delicately in Louis’ handwriting in the center of the mannequin.

Louis is a songwriter who is nominated for a Grammy and he needs a suit. Fast. He seeks out help from a very popular, very mysterious designer who just so happens to be his ex-boyfriend.

4. Dress You Up In My Love (103k)**

Harry is single, and more than anything wants to find love. Agreeing to sign up to a dating website was a bad, bad idea. Niall's bad, bad idea. Louis is single, but has no interest in relationships. Or so he tells himself. 

Harry is a lawyer whose boss, Nick, happens to give him a bonus, which he decides to splurge on a new work wardrobe. Louis is a frustrated designer, working as a personal shopper at Selfridges. Louis happens to be working on the day a very beautiful, but out of his depth, new customer ambles into their department in need of advice. Louis might have just found the muse he never knew he was looking for.

5. Of Honey (24k)*

Harry wants what most hybrids don’t have. Love, for instance. Companionship. Understanding. And sex so good it hurts.

6. If You Keep Holding Me This Way (22k)**

Harry is a uni student who just so happens to enjoy dressing up as a long-haired androgynous sub persona to go out to bars and pick up men to dominate him. He tries to keep his BDSM life and his personal one separated, but that gets difficult when his crush on a classmate gets serious and his two worlds collide.

7. Then We Talk Slow (20k)**

The picture showed Harry smiling widely (with a fucking dimple) at the camera, his glossy brown curls situated artfully around his shoulders. Louis couldn’t see his whole outfit, but it seemed to consist of a pink, floral button-up with most of the buttons undone. Louis could also detect the dark outlines of tattoos on his chest, although he couldn’t quite make out what they were underneath the shirt.

What he could make out was that his own heartrate seemed to have picked up significantly.

Shit.

This was so not good. Not only had Louis drunkenly sent messages in a deliberate attempt to interact with this man, he was now insanely attracted to him without ever having met him in person.

Maybe Liam was right – drunk tweeting really was a horrible, rotten idea.

A famous/non-famous AU in which Louis banters back and forth with his new record company on Twitter, only to find out that Harry is the man behind the tweets.

8. Love Endless (The Road to Recollection) (171k)**

The year is groovy 1973, and eighteen-year-old Louis Tomlinson is as gay as the rainbows that never waste their time in gloomy ole' Fortwright. Would be fine if he wasn't so viciously bullied at both home and school for such a "harmful" sexual preference.

Yeah, yeah, we've all heard this story, haven't we?

Believe him, Louis didn't think he was anything special either.

Until he found the mansion. The notoriously haunted mansion hidden deep within the forests of his tiny blip of a town in Bumfuck Nowhere, Idaho. No one with a brain ever goes near it, but Louis could use a little excitement in his life...and possibly a Band-Aid or two.

After discovering the mansion was less abandoned than he'd thought, he's now left with the most riveting mystery of a lifetime; every new finding leaving him with more questions. Who is this elusive owner, and why won't they show themselves? Why is there a set of journals in the same handwriting that span over centuries? Why in the world is there a padlock on the refrigerator...and who the hell is Alexander?

9. Dance Me (to the End of Love) (19k)*

You would think that it's a simple process - you meet, you fall in love, you get married. But when you add one lawyer and one overly-competitive high school teacher to that equation, it's no longer a straight line from beginning to end. Or the story of how a simple proposal becomes a competition where no one loses in the end.

10. For a Spell That Can’t be Broken (8k)

“Why do you have to bug him so much, Lou?” Niall asked, chewing on the sleeve of his Gryffindor robes. “He’s a good kid.”

“I’m aware of that,” Louis argued petulantly.

“Are you sure?” Niall asked, his expression sincerely concerned.

“Don’t mind him,” Zayn spoke up. “Louis’ just got a weird fetish for tormenting boys he likes.”

Or a Harry Potter AU where Louis' got a secret crush on Harry and won't admit it until a late entrance into potions class outs him.

11. Cocoons and Crow’s Nests (10k)*

Harry is happy to live his life in the confines of his Cocoon. Louis specializes in breaking down barriers.

It's a young love, coming of age Larry Stylinson one shot.

12. Dance Like Warriors On A Battlefield (20k)*

Down in the arena, the triumphant gladiator places his foot on the back of the loser, holding him there as he waits for instruction on his next move. Kill or let live. It’s barbaric, really, the bloodlust involved in this sport. Louis is pretty sure that if it wasn’t for his distaste for the killing there would be a lot more blood soaking that sand.

As it is, his father rarely gives the kill order anymore. He gives the order to let the loser live. Louis rolls his eyes, turning away. He doesn’t miss the way the gladiator’s eyes linger on him.

13. Record Your Fate (and Write Me In) (13k)*

Harry is the Archivist, it's his job to record what happens in the universe.

He's only a few days into the job when things take an odd turn.

Suddenly, the small blue eyed boy seems more important than writing about crowning dignitaries.

14. Tangled Up in You (45k)

Harry blinks once. And blinks again. And says, his voice dangerous: “Niall, did you get me a mail-order bride?”

Because what the actual fuck. It kind of looks like Niall’s just purchased a person. For Harry.

“What did you get me, then?!” Niall must hear the tinge of hysteria in his voice, because he’s pulling himself together, trying to stop himself from laughing.

There’s still a big grin on his face, though, when he says, “I got you a professional cuddler.”

A professional…what. “What?”

15. This Ain't Just a Thing That You Give Up (34k)

Harry turned to Liam to whisper something about not being in Kansas anymore but his best friend was frozen to his spot with a look of complete disbelief on his face. Harry looked to his right, the direction Liam seemed to be focused on, and saw a small group of people who had paused their discussion to look towards him in confusion.

A small group including Zayn Malik and Louis Tomlinson.

Harry is fairly sure his jaw actually dropped.

"Li, is that...?"

Liam nods his head emphatically. "I'm about 110% sure that yes. It is."

Or… The one where Harry is a baker in addition to being a college student who just happens to meet the crazy famous Louis Tomlinson while on spring break. Featuring personal assistant!niall, roommate and best friend!liam, and costar/model!zayn.

16. Resist Everything Except Temptation (100k)**

The lethargic sound of heels clicking against wood resonated across the sea. Footsteps descended the staircase, every assured step creating a menacing aura as it grew closer. Perspiration gathered along Louis’ palms as the rhythmic sound halted in front of him.

There was a metallic slide of a sword being pulled out of its sheath, the sound startling Louis out of his cocoon of sterile shock. His shoulders jumped as the tip of a blade flattened underneath his jaw. Louis’ distorted reflection stared back at him in the polished metal. Engraved rose petals twisted his appearance as they crawled up the length of the sword. The sword lifted and took Louis’ chin with it.

Standing in front of Louis was Captain Styles.

OR The one where Louis is the commodore's son who is forced to become a part of Harry's crew when he is captured.

17. Far Afield (11k)**

Harry Styles is a witch who owns the best flower shop in Manchester. Lottie Tomlinson is planning her wedding, and brings her brother along to her first appointment. Both men have been having a bad day and sparks fly.

18. You’re Either In Or You’re Out (12k)

Louis' tone is maybe a bit harsher than necessary, but he still stinging from the suggestion that he was staring at Harry. Sure, the way his legs are encased in those skinny jeans is mildly intriguing. But Louis is here to be the next Top Designer, and he'll be damned if he lets a pretty boy with a sinful mouth get in the way of his dream. Especially if that sinful mouth is spewing phrases like bohemian pantsuit. Honestly.

Or the one where Louis tries out for Project Runway, Harry is his stupidly gorgeous competitor, Liam is Tim Gunn, Zayn is the supermodel host, and Niall is the guest judge who knows nothing about fashion.

19. These Bountiful Silences (123k)**

They live in a world where they can only say four words per day. Harry meets some people that don't want to live that way.

20. Kiss the Boys (8k)

“Being able to blatantly kiss pretty boys out in the open is my favorite part of Pride,” Harry says without preamble, leaning into Louis’ space, inviting pink lips quirking up as they get closer to him. “You up for it?”

“Um,” Louis glances at Zayn for help. He’d thought for sure after the way he’d just seen Zayn and Harry kissing, there had to be something more going on there. The last thing Louis expects to see on Zayn’s face is a knowing grin.

Harry leans closer and for a split-second, Louis wants to meet him halfway but then he thinks better of it. He doesn’t know the landscape here and in just a couple of weeks living with him, he’s already learned that Zayn is really bad about holding his feelings in. He doesn’t want to risk stepping on the toes of his closest friend here at Uni. So, at the last second, Louis raises his empty hand and covers Harry’s mouth before the boy can complete his mission.

“Sorry, Curly,” Louis says jokingly, “I just don’t know where that mouth has been.”

21. Manhattan From The Sky (47k)**

Harry's been raised to know that successful men do not fall in love. Louis believes that love is all you need to be successful in life. They meet.