#i tried to write him ok! i tried ;;

[bunnieswithknives]

Thinking about his brain

[yuwuta]

yuuta exhibits such previously abandoned, recently adopted dog behavior. incredibly anxious all the time, even though nobody’s out to get him or leave him behind. waits for you to return home or from school or from work excitedly, just to see you when you walk through the door. follows you around senselessly, hovering in your space just for the sake of companionship. initiates affection in prodding ways—starts off next to you, then a hand on your thigh, then deems it safe to lay all the way down, then slowly pushes his head into your lap. gets up whenever you need to get up, and resumes his position as soon as you’re ready. brings you gifts as a sign that he’s thinking of you, and maybe because he likes the affection it brings out in you, maybe because he likes the gentle affirming touches of a hand in his hair or a pinch to his cheek. rests his head on your stomach or his chin on your shoulder when he’s sleepy, stays there, immobile, and will not move unless absolutely necessary. sometimes he gets surprised when he hears you calling for him, there’s a moment of disbelief as he thinks “me? really? you need me?” but it’s very quickly overshadowed by this compulsive need to show up, to please, to do anything for you, which is why he always answers when you call. he doesn’t realize that he has puppygod eyes, especially when he’s excited or confused, but he does and it’s incredible endearing. very reluctant to share your space or attention after a while, considers that to be sacred and he won’t risk being let go or lost again, so as a safety precaution, he keeps himself right by you, waits for you always. 

[uniiiquehecrt]

Voice actors are NOT the same as actors.

It takes a specific kind of skill-set and training to be able to warp and meld the voice. It takes a certain kind of talent and dedication to hone that talent into the ability to meld the voice and invoke emotion with one's voice alone. Actors are used to using their voice secondarily to their body language and their facial expressions. It's all mirrored back on camera. They do have nuance. But it's a different kind of nuance and a different kind of training to produce that nuance.

Voice actors might get their likeness transposed on their character's design, and maybe their mannerisms might seep into the character's animation. But when it's all said and done: their presence is in their voice. They are bringing a character to life, showing that emotion in their voice, trying to keep a specific accent, drawl, pitch, tone in that voice and keep it consistent for their recording sessions.

The voice actor is like a classically trained musician who can play first chair in a competitive, world-renown orchestra. The actor (who fills the voice actor's role) is like a moot who played violin in beginner and intermediate high school orchestra and thinks they can get into Juilliard with that 2-4 years of experience.

This doesn't mean that the HS orchestra moot can't play. They can even be really good at it. Maybe they won competitions and sat first chair. But they are not in the same league as the person who's been training their whole lives and lives and breathes to hone their craft using the instrument and all of the training they've ever acquired to perfect it. They are not meant for the same roles. They are not in the same caliber. You do not hire the HS equivalent when you want to play complex music in a competitive orchestra.

Actors are not the same as voice actors.

And furthermore, actors - especially big name actors - taking the roles of animated characters for big budget films or TV pilots makes no sense anyways when - at least in the case of TV pilots - there's not a point to hiring a big budget actors anyways. That money could be used elsewhere (like paying your animators), and the talent that is brought onto the screen for X character could then be hired on to voice said character no recasting required.

I wouldn't say voice acting as a profession is in danger exactly, but it's certainly being disrespected and overlooked for celebrity clout, and this has ALWAYS been an issue. Shoot, even Robin Williams knew that much - which is why he tried so hard not to be used as a marketing chess piece for Aladdin and got royally pissed off when it happened anyways. People shouldn't go to any movie (but especially not animated films) because "oh famous actor is in it". People should go because it's a good movie and the voice acting is good.

People who honest to god think that voice actors are replaceable because "oh well anyone can voice act" or "I like xyz celebrity so naturally it'll be good" ... Honestly I just wish you'd reassess your priorities because you're missing the point and are part of the problem.

Voice Actors ≠ Actors.

[eri-pl]

An absolutely foolproof fic idea: two faves talk to each other.

[kil-luna]

bakugou katsuki doesn't apologize.

being in a relationship with katsuki sure is hard. everyone knows that it is expected that anyone who wants to be with him should be willing to handle arguments and countless fights, because let's face it; katsuki is hardheaded. he is a lot.

luckily, you are a very patient person. that's probably why you were able to stand next to him. needless to say, almost 80% of the arguments are his fault. and among these times, he never, ever says he is sorry.

instead, what does he do?

he rubs your feet at night, despite you not talking to him.

he goes to the grocery store to buy the ingredients of your favorite dish and rushes home to cook. he makes sure to finish up work early so that he has ample time to make it home before you do.

he buys you new scented candles, he knows it helps soothe you all the time.

he brushes your hair until you fall asleep. you have always liked the feeling of having your hair brushed while in bed, it reminded you of your childhood.

he changes your sheets. he knows you hate doing that.

he writes on post its every morning telling you his schedule because you won't talk to him. despite this, he wants you to know where he will be for the day; he knows that you're mad but that doesn't mean you will not worry.

he buys you all sorts of things, whichever it is that crosses his mind. he hasn't smelled his favorite perfume of yours in awhile, maybe you ran out? so he's gonna buy that.

and he doesn't talk, not at all. he just waits and do these things until you finally utter the first word after your fight.

"we aren't okay yet. not just because you did all these things it already means i forgive you, katsuki."

"we will be"

"if you never do it again"

"yeah, whatever"

bakugou doesn't apologize whenever you two have a fight, but that doesn't mean he isn't sorry.

[rynfloros]

hear me out. au where hap never dies n becomes a father figure to all the kids

[lillymakesart]

my new OC: cempaka!

she is based on the story/universe that my friend @haydardotjpg's OCs indra and yuwei exist in! pls go checkout haydar's art he is amazing!! his ocs can be found more easily on his ig but if you're lazy this is his oc indra (cempaka's one-sided love interest) and yuwei (indra's fated lover)

also, cempaka means "magnolia" in malay!! (she gets a flower name bc my name is lilly which is also flower c:)

bonus first iteration under the cut!

i accidentally had "poinsettia" flower in mind when i did this iteration instead of an actual magnolia, hence the color scheme. but yeah, this is as self-insert as it gets LOL like she's literally MEEEEEE but still very different and i love her as she is <3

[harbingersecho]

I don't feel pain I never escape I'm under the bed I'm licking the floor

[kotakunnn]

Gals that will probably never see the light of day. ever maybe.

hello and goodnight, Penacony / Gallagher.

[the-red-thread-that-strangles]

Akai Shuuichi isn't afraid of heights. Like any sane person, however, he dreads the fall.

Though he questions his sanity. Because try as he might to stay away from the edge, it calls to him. Staring into sweet oblivion sends shivers down his spine, the uncertainty of his fate a thrill like no other. Most days he trusts in himself, his ability to walk the razor's edge, but he's fallen before. And it hurt.

Of course, pain is just a part of life he's learned to live with. In his line of work, people get injured all the time. And if you can't handle that, you have to be very lucky to make it out alive. For the longest time, death wasn't an option.

(Now, it wouldn't be so bad.)

So he steadied himself, got smarter, hardier. Better at avoiding situations that result in pain. And better at shutting it out, too, when it did appear, in order to keep going.

Why, then, does his chest ache and burn?

It's quite simple.

Layers and layers of ice, degrees of separation in place precisely to protect him from pain like this, melted through by Rei's blazing heat.

What a stupid thing he's done, to get attached again.

He could've tried to resist, at the start. Before things had gone too far. Before he got to know Furuya Rei.

But maybe, by then, it was already too late. In truth, he probably doomed himself years ago, when he accepted Scotch's offer of companionship. It brought Bourbon into his orbit, and the man's never been any less than doggedly persistent. Once Shuuichi let him in, he was never going to escape unscathed.

Shuuichi let him get too close, and got burnt as a result. Could see it coming, too, for the longest time. But how was he supposed to escape Rei's brilliance? His touch, devastatingly kind? It would be like trying to block out the sun - an exercise in painful impossibility.

So he's stopped trying, and embraced the wildfire that is Rei. Of course he burns, it's his nature.

(There's some things Shuuichi will need to reevaluate about his own, now that he has time. Because he certainly never thought of himself as a masochist, and yet, despite the pain, he knows one thing for certain: he wouldn't want things any other way.)

(Not one that is available to him, at least.)

Thus, he resorts to clinging to the vestiges of patience and composure he has cultivated for years to keep working through the situation with a cool head.

To do what is right.

He's putting back together what he tore apart, unwittingly, some three years ago now. Their struggle is over. They deserve to rest and recover, nurse their wounds - together.

It doesn't matter that he feels like he's bleeding out. He's used to patching himself up, after all.

And he's glad that he can do this for his... friends. The term invokes a foreign, gentle joy. They're no longer team mates, no longer allies, no longer forced together by circumstance. That's in the past, now. They stick to each other by choice, these days. That makes them friends, right?

He's happy for his friends.

Shuuichi pours himself another glass of scotch.

.

He should've picked a different hotel than his family.

Rather, his family should've really looked into a permanent residence already, considering Masumi has decided she doesn't want to go back to Britain. It's not like mother could refuse, after all the things his little sister did for her - not least of which, coming clean to Shiho and convincing her to share the APTX antidote, when all was said and done.

They're certainly not lacking in money, and Shuuichi's sure the Hanedas have connections that would make finding a flat, or even a house, possible, even on short notice.

Then again, Masumi told him they've been living in a hotel for more than half a year - maybe they've simply grown used to the comforts. It's not for him, but he's rarely seen eye to eye with mother.

Regardless, none of this excuses banging at his door at seven in the morning, on the dot.

"Shuu, are you up yet?"

Well, if he wasn't, he surely would be, now. Years undercover have left him a light sleeper out of necessity - it's a habit he won't be able to break for quite a while, even if he wanted to.

Still, the splitting headache and nausea make him consider playing dead. He doesn't feel much better than it, in any case.

Another set of knocks shakes his door. He loves his sister, and her determination is one of her best traits. But some of these days, it's also highly inconvenient.

"One moment."

He drags himself off the barstool, checks the mirror. Can almost hear Rei telling him he looks like death warmed over. Roughly two hours of sleep half-draped over the hotel room bar certainly didn't do him any favours.

He buttons up his shirt in an attempt at modesty, combs back his hair roughly. Part of him wants to send Masumi away - she's idolised him for too long. His little sister doesn't deserve to have the illusion of composure shattered, shouldn't have to see him, like this.

But she told him, at her birthday party, trying alcohol for the first time in their family home, under his watchful eyes. Always direct, but, as it turned out, even more so when tipsy:

'When all of this is over, I want my brother back. Just...you, however you are.'

If Shuuichi waits for a time where he feels ready to talk to her, won't stain her merely by existing in proximity, they'll never get to meet at all.

(He can't have that. He's missed too much, already.)

So he drags himself to the door, dishevelled, morning breath and all. Opens it a crack.

"Morning." If his voice is a little rougher than usual, there's nothing he can do about it.

Masumi pushes the door wide open so she can step in, giving him a wide berth. Inspects him head to toe, worry clear in her scowl and the wrinkle of her nose.

"...is this a bad time?", she asks, a glint to her eyes as she notices the half-empty bottle of scotch on the bar's counter. She can't help it - a detective through and through, and not good enough at feigning nonchalance yet. The evidence at the crime scene is surely forming a rather damning picture - he really should have put the bottle back into the bar before letting her in.

She plops down on the small sofa, makes herself comfortable while he opens the window. That should at least give them some relief from the smells accumulated overnight in the room.

"No. You're just here early. Is something the matter?"

He doesn't bother with pleasantries on principle, but at this hour he finds himself even less inclined. Besides - she wouldn't be here this early if it wasn't important. At least Shuuichi dearly hopes she has more sense than that.

Masumi looks down at the floor, a little guilty. He settles on the barstool and waits for her hesitation to blow over. Must really be looking like shit, if he's managed to curb her usual enthusiasm.

"I was going to ask for a favour, but I'm really not sure-"

He gives her an unimpressed look, from up upon his perch. It's a little too early to beat around the bush.

"Masumi." A single word, aimed to cut her off with calm precision. "How do I help?"

He might not be feeling well, but he's a professional - he's worked in worse conditions, for less important reasons. He'll drag himself out of his slump, if she needs him.

"You don't have to. It's silly." She gives him a sheepish smile, fangs and all.

"That's for me to decide, once you let me know what you need. So?"

She steadies herself, looks up at him, and sighs.

"For context, it's been months now, but Ran's still down about the whole Shinichi fiasco. So, we've decided to surprise her with an outing, tomorrow night."

So far so good, although he doesn't see where that concerns him.

"It was gonna be just us girls, and I'm confident that between Ran and myself, we can handle anyone stupid enough to try and cause trouble. But you know how it is in Beika. There's always a risk."

He does indeed know how Beika has somehow overtaken Osaka in every single criminal statistic there is. If she didn't have friends here, he would suggest moving elsewhere. He hears Nagano is very lovely, all year 'round.

"So we were discussing if there's anyone we could bring for company. And, well-"

"Go on."

"Sonoko somehow - I'd really like her resources - caught wind that Okiya Subaru is back on 'vacation'. She might have suggested asking him to accompany us?"

Not entirely unexpected - miss Suzuki had taken something of a liking to him, for whatever reason. It's a testament to the improvement of his acting skills. Engaging with kids and teenagers is a far cry more difficult and involved than his cover as Rye, somehow.

"...she may also be under the inaccurate impression, you, well, he could be a potential match for Ran."

At least his sister's on the right page there. That's not happening, never in a thousand years. Even if Ran wasn't barely more than half his age, she's too innocent, selfless, kind. If something like love exists in his heart, it couldn't ever be for someone like her - not again.

"You want me to decline the offer, then?" Simple enough.

Masumi shakes her head.

"No, Sonoko's right. It's always good to have an extra pair of eyes, and I'd love to have you with us. Been too long since we last spent time together. Besides, I don't think Ran is even interested in you - or anyone, really, after that disaster..." It takes him a moment to place the bitterness in her voice, uncharacteristic as it is.

"And that is unexpected?"

"No. I get it, she needs time. But she's miserable, and I want her to cheer up already..." Masumi mumbles the latter half to herself, subdued. Shuuichi's not sure he was supposed to hear that, but, well. He did.

"You'll get through to her eventually."

Good back-up gets one out of the toughest of scrapes, he can attest to that. If his sister is determined to get Ran to feel better, her persistence will make it come true, eventually.

"I sure hope so." She smiles up at him.

He finds his lips quirking up in response. "You focus on helping her. I'll cover your back."

He's sure he'll manage not to indulge miss Suzuki's delusions too badly. Rei often let him know how off-putting he can be, after all - finally a good use for his skills.

"Thanks, Shuu."

She gets up. Stops a couple of steps away from him, hovering uncertainly. When he raises an eyebrow, he can almost see the 'ah, fuck it', and then she's hugging him. Shuichi pats her back, a little awkwardly.

"Any time", he says and means it. "If there's anything else..."

She tenses next to him, but shakes her head.

"No, it's...I'm fine. Don't worry about it."

Well, now he is a little worried. He'll need to keep an eye out for whatever's troubling her.

"Alright." He won't push her; she'll tell him if she needs to.

Masumi lets go and scurries off, fleeing for the door.

"Text me the time and place, I'll be there."

"Will do. See you tomorrow." She nods and waves her goodbye. He follows to lock the door behind her, the bolt sliding shut with a satisfying clack.

There's just one small problem. He currently doesn't have Okiya's get-up. And Okiya doesn't live in this hotel.

After dropping him off yesterday, Shuuichi had planned not to bother him for a couple of days. Well. That plan has just been tossed out the window rather unceremoniously.

It can't be helped. With a bit of apprehension, he calls Scotch.

.

Under the cover of darkness, Shuuichi scales the garden wall, dropping into the Kudo's backyard without issue. The alarms have been disabled according to the schedule he provided.

He slips in through the unlocked backdoor, shutting it behind himself. The security systems of the place are too familiar; he reactivates them on autopilot. Better to avoid unpleasant surprises, wherever possible.

Clearly, Scotch had a similar idea - Shuuichi can barely see his outline in the darkened kitchen, but the revolver he gave to him gleams in the dim light. It's nice to see he's making good use of it.

Sharp blue eyes scan him.

"The passphrase?"

Nostalgia steals the air from his lungs. Between unsafe safe houses, a trigger-happy Bourbon, and working with people best described as shapeshifters, they needed a way to identify themselves, and quickly, when they returned home.

It's been years since he's last spoken it, but the passphrase comes to him as easily as breathing.

"Eat, drink, and be merry..."

Scotch had suggested the words, years ago. The motto he lived by, when not on the job, in order to not lose his sanity. The motto he'd imposed on Rye, as well, when they became partners.

A cheshire grin in the night.

"...for tomorrow we die." Scotch finishes their creed, lowers the revolver.

"Welcome home, Rye."

.

It's always been easy to find comfort by Scotch's side. Between the greeting, making gyoza together - which goes much better than their attempts years ago - and watching mindless action movies with a glass of bourbon, ripping apart impossible stunt work, it's difficult not to fall into a simulacrum of the fragile peace they'd carved out for themselves, away from organisation work.

Only this time, the peace is real.

Despite his apprehensions about meeting Scotch, Shuuichi's glad he's here - travelling with him is one thing, but he didn't realize just how much he's missed downtime with his ex-partner. Scotch's sharp intellect and easy-going attitude make for pleasant company.

It's exactly what he needs to unwind.

Which is why he doesn't see how Scotch has him cornered until it's too late.

.

The neighbourhood of the Kudo manor is quiet, at night.

As they head out onto the balcony for a smoke in the moonlight, their conversation turns to hushed whispers. Mellowed by an evening of pleasant company and several drinks, the world sharpens into focus between them, illuminated by the glow of their cigarettes.

Standing would be too visible, so they sit on the stone floor, side by side, like so many times before.

"Hey, Akai?" His name, not his monicker. A chilling sense of dread creeps into his chest. Please, no.

"Hm?"

"Thank you."

Shuuichi closes his eyes. He can take a good guess where this is going. Thus, he takes a deep drag from his cigarette, and braces himself.

"You know. For letting me meet Zero."

He'd been hoping against hope they could avoid the topic altogether. After all, they've made it several hours without addressing it. But unfortunately, it seems his luck has run out.

(Still, having seen Scotch in good spirits all evening makes it worthwhile, just a bit.)

Maybe they can just move along quickly.

"Think nothing of it."

"No. Akai, listen. I know you had to pull some strings to make it happen, and I want you to know I appreciate that. We appreciate that - even if Zero is pissed. First thing he did was slap me; told me I was late."

Scotch laughs, low and sweet in the night air.

They both know he let himself get slapped - Rei tends to telegraph too much, when he's angry, and surely it's even more obvious for someone so intimately familiar with him. The thought stings. And yet, through it, Shuuichi can't help the help the small smile creeping on his face. That sounds like Rei, all right. He would've liked to see it - someone else the target of his anger, for once.

Scotch seems happy to just bask in the memory, but Shuuichi's curiosity has been piqued.

"Did you manage to resolve your issues?" After all, that was the goal. If they didn't, none of this was worth it - several hoops he jumped through, bureaucratic and personal, for nothing.

"It's tentative, so far, but I have faith we'll get there. We've been through too much, together, at this point. This won't break us... I hope."

Shuuichi is reminded painfully of the bits and pieces he's heard of their childhood adventures. Fishing and fighting and being friends. It must be nice, to have found love so early in life. To get to keep it, too.

"I don't think so, it's clear how much he missed you. I'd be surprised if he ever let you go again." It leaves him a little cold, to no longer be the focal point of Furuya's burning determination. Chasing him was always just a means to an end for getting to Scotch. And now his wish has been granted. Shuuichi hopes it's worth it.

When he smiles, Shuuichi is sure this is Hiro, the person closest to Rei. It burns, but at the same time he finds himself glad that Scotch shines with such utter fondness when he talks of Zero. That's what Rei deserves, after all.

"I hope so. I don't intend to leave again, anyways. Every single day when I was hiding, I missed him."

It's a quiet, gentle admission Akai isn't sure how to handle. All these emotions are a bit too much - he's not used to being thanked, unless it's with useless medals, and he's not used to being confided in. He supposes it's nice that Scotch trusts him enough to lay himself bare like this, nowadays. Still, he can't help but wish for the old times, when they were much better at keeping their feelings out of his face. He's already happy for them; isn't that enough?

Scotch turns to look at him, blue eyes burning bright in the moonlight.

"And I missed you, too."

Cold wind tousles his hair. Shuuichi stares at Scotch.

If he didn't know what to say before, he certainly doesn't do so now. How can Hiro say that so easily? It's too personal. It's one thing to have his little sister say it, who only ever saw an idealized version of him to look up to. For Scotch to say this, despite knowing what he did, who he is - it makes Shuuichi nauseous.

Because he can tell Scotch is being painfully genuine.

'I missed you too', burns in his throat. But too many conflicting emotions keep it tightly sealed. His breathing becomes difficult, requires a conscious effort to take air in, hold, breathe out. Repeat.

And Scotch isn't even done yet.

"Akai. I have to get used to that name now, huh? Feel free to call me by my name, too, if you want."

With how his mind is spinning, it's difficult to figure out what he wants at all, besides for Scotch, no, Hiromitsu to stop. He's ripping apart the bubble of warm nostalgia that was enveloping them so nicely, leaving them exposed to the present. The night is cold and uncertain, without its protection.

"...you haven't been meeting my eyes all evening. Please, Akai - let me know what's wrong. We couldn't, back then, but I'd like to be your friend, now."

It's the kindest smile he's seen on Sc- Hiromitsu yet, and it's too much. Shuuichi has to avert his eyes, can't keep looking at his former partner, all earnest focus placed on him. A shiver runs downs his spine.

There's few things he wants more, in life.

"...we are", he manages to tear from his aching throat, choked up with emotion. This is a bad idea. He's not supposed to get attached. He's just making the same mistake, over and over again. He should've kept quiet.

(If he'd told Akemi how he truly felt, would it have mattered?)

"Then why do you seem miserable, whenever you look at me? Why do you try to avoid me? Don't think I didn't notice."

Of course he did, always too sharp. So helpful, on a mission, and occasionally in private too; he'd know they were getting sick before they really felt it, start treatment with soup and tea early. Taking care of them, even then.

"It's got nothing to do with you, it's-" 'me', he wants to say. Fear and bitter envy, the brunt of which Hiromitsu really doesn't deserve to face. So Shuuichi's been trying to avoid them, and, by extension, his former partner.

He manages to catch himself in time, before he gives voice to feelings that can't be unsaid.

"Yes?" Hiromitsu's voice is calm and patient and Shuuichi hates him for the attention he's paying to him.

He manages to correct his course in time, if barely.

"You and Rei deserve some time alone, now that you're finally back together." It's close enough, only a partial lie. They're so important to each other, and he truly wants them to make up. He'd only be in their way.

"Rei, hm?" Hiro smiles at him. Of course he picked up on Shuuichi's blunder.

He's had just about enough of being cornered. Gets up and is about to head inside and maybe hide in the attic for a while. The door can be barricaded from the inside. Hiromitsu rises after him, puts a hand around his wrist in a vice grip.

"Let. Go." It takes all his patience to not just break Scotch's arm and leave.

"I'm sorry for pushing you, Akai. Please, give me half a minute more."

Unfortunately, his best glare stopped working on Scotch several years back. Shuuichi looks at his wristwatch, starts counting down. As soon as Hiromitsu starts talking, he knows his time is better spent focusing on what he has to say, instead.

"Look at me, Akai, and listen up. You can't get between the two of us. I've offered you a place at my side years ago, and Zero... well, he's come around. The offer still stands. It wasn't conditional, but if it was, you would've earned your place easily, by now. I owe you my life, and so does Zero, several times over."

"We did what we had to, and you did the same for me." For the longest time it was that simple, their relationship purely transactional, because Bourbon could only ever deal in exchanges. A favour for a favour.

It's long since stopped working that way, and Shuuichi knows it.

"Oh, please. None us had to do anything more than cooperate on missions, and yet we all chose to do so anyways. You're one of us, Akai. Stop fighting it."

And he wants to, desperately so. The thought of spilling his rotten insides for them to see has him sick to his stomach, and yet, how much worse could it be than what they've already witnessed?

Hiromitsu squeezes his arm, a burning brand of human connection. It staves off the cold, just a little.

When he speaks again, it's soft, but firm.

"You should've joined us for dinner, yesterday. Both of us missed you."

Shuuichi doesn't know what to say to that, too busy fighting his internal battles, but surely something shows on his face, because Hiro laughs at him.

"As amusing as it is to see you flush, no, that wasn't an invitation to a threesome."

...he isn't quite sure whether he's supposed to be relieved, or crestfallen, at this.

"I didn't think-"

"Yeah, I'm sure you didn't." Hiromitsu's smile is too sly and knowing. It's a testament to the fact Shuuichi's spent too much time with Furuya, because wiping it off his face in a fight sure sounds appealing, right about now.

He's always been better at expressing himself through deeds rather than words, anyways.

"Otherwise, I wouldn't need to set the record straight. Zero's furious, by the way. Count yourself lucky that I'm the one breaking the news to you. He doesn't appreciate being set up on a date with his best friend."

Hiromitsu pauses, presumably to let that sink in. Shuuichi stares him down. That is supposed to be new information, how?

"Let me be perfectly clear: I love Zero."

He says it easily, with a sweet smile. It stings fiercely in Shuuichi's chest. By now, he thinks he knows what Hiromitsu is playing at, but unfortunately that knowledge doesn't prevent it from being an effective tactic.

(If this is how Hiromitsu treats his friends, he doesn't want to be his enemy.)

"He's my best friend, I love him like a brother. But he's family. Nothing more, nothing less."

There's a small pang of guilt at the relief that floods his system, but he needs it said explicitly to really believe it.

"You aren't a couple, then?"

Hiromitsu raises an eyebrow, as if to ask 'and why would that matter to you?' But thankfully he's done teasing, or Shuuichi really would need to break something, or rather, someone.

"No. I can see how you got the idea, but there's never been anything between us. Zero says you have a brother? Imagine we presumed the same about you two, just because you're close."

The confirmation lets him breathe more freely, even if it will need time to settle. His mind is still spinning, too many thoughts fighting for control. From this mess, of all things, his long-forgotten manners emerge as the failsafe. "Sorry."

Hiromitsu waves it off with a grin.

"I don't mind too much, we got excellent dinner out of it. Thank you for that, by the way. But do make sure to apologize properly to Rei."

Hiro winks at him, then straightens, looks him in the eye.

Squeezes his arm a final time, before he lets go.

"I mean it, Akai - you're our friend. And I hope you rest a little easier, knowing the truth."

Shuuichi does.

.

He's five minutes late to the requested location downtown - through little fault of his own, this time.

Masumi's text arrived a mere twenty minutes ago, and the things PSB liaison Akai Shuuichi might get away with, such as speeding, don't apply to the civilian Okiya Subaru (though that would admittedly be a very nice perk of the job).

He can hazard a guess why Masumi didn't send the details earlier as he drives past the building in question to find a parking spot - she probably didn't want to give him time to reconsider and back out.

Because she's dragging him to a goddamn karaoke bar, and, standing in the huddle of girls waiting for him, is Miyano Shiho.

His instincts tell him to cancel, to take up position on the rooftop bar across the street - it would provide easier surveillance options.

(But he's tried to protect Akemi from afar, and failed her, miserably.)

Besides, he promised, and he really does try to be better, these days.

So he smiles, all awkward and apologetic Subaru, as he joins them. It's going to be a long night.

(He's soothed by the smell of Rei's hypoallergic fabric softener clinging to the sweater he picked. Can't help but feel that there would be a certain appeal to sharing them, if Rei were open to the idea.)

.

The evening goes better than he imagined, all things considered, even if there's crying involved - as is often the case when he meets Mouri Ran.

It's a pleasant distraction, if nothing else.

He keeps an eye on Masumi all night to see what could possibly be bothering her, but as far as he can tell she's genuinely happy to spend the night with her friends. In fact, considering she told him how it had been too long since they'd last seen each other, she pays surprisingly little attention to him.

He prefers it this way.

(Although he would've liked to ask for her advice on how to apologise properly. Alas, this is probably not the right time, or place.)

.

Mostly he stays at their table, watching the girls' drinks and the crowd, occasionally giving guys who seem to consider chatting the girls up cheerful glares. Masumi made her wishes very clear, after all.

It's a good thing he talked to Scotch Hiromitsu yesterday. Enthusiasm permeates the bar, but unfortunately confidence doesn't equate to talent. Several of the loud, out of tune performances would've been torture with a hangover.

He finds himself humming along to the classics regardless.

As it is, it's almost pleasant. Sure, Shiho keeps ignoring him when it's just the two of them left at the table, but that's better than open hostility. Probably.

(It feels a little worse.)

.

Two hours in Sonoko ushers Ran to stay with Subaru rather conspicuously.

Smalltalk is stilted between them, lacking in common ground, and it doesn't really help that their connection is through the Kudo family, the memories of which she's here to escape for the night. She's polite as ever, but without the other girls as buffer, the conversation quickly runs dry.

Thankfully, the girls' singing distracts them soon enough. A cutesy pop song about moving on, dedicated to Ran.

She seems about ready to cry halfway through, and by the time they're done she's sniffling and trying to discreetly wipe her tears. Shuuichi gives her a handkerchief and pats her back rather awkwardly in an effort to try and soothe her. He hopes the girls will be back soon to take care of this. He's woefully underqualified to handle this kind of situation.

When they finally do get back, he plans to excuse himself, but before he finds a good time he's swept up in a group hug instead.

Turns out he might have misread the situation - what with Ran being overjoyed at her friends' continued support, and needing to express that, somehow. How exactly that translates into him also being included in their huddle is beyond his comprehension, but he's not going to struggle and cause a scene.

(It's kind of nice to see her smile again - gloominess doesn't suit her.)

.

It might've been a bit too much excitement for Ran, because around midnight she's almost falling asleep at their table. At this point, the rest of the girls declare their mission a success, and the focus shifts to trying to figure out how to get back in the middle of the night.

Shuuichi volunteers to drive them home.

It's crammed in his little Subaru, but the girls manage, and once he's dropped off Sonoko, things quiet down considerably.

Masumi makes him swear not to tell their mother how long they were out.

He agrees, of course, knowing he got up to much worse as a teen - back when he was still susceptible to peer pressure and living abroad in a fraternity, alcohol made him do very stupid things indeed to prove his worth.

If this is how Masumi chooses to defy their mother, he'll take it - she could be up to so much worse.

She's arranged to stay with Ran; thus, he's released from his services for the night. He watches as they help each other up the stairs, leaning in close, whispering and laughing to each other.

He would make an assumption, now, but Hiromitsu's words are still clear in his mind.

So for now, he refrains, and is simply glad they're supporting each other.

.

In the end, predictably, Shiho is the only one left in the car.

"Didn't dare to join us wearing your own skin, cousin?"

He shrugs. "Masumi requested Subaru."

"Well. At least you didn't creep on us from several buildings away. Baby steps." 'But progress, nonetheless', her small smile says.

He doesn't know why he says it. Maybe because it's late. Because Scotch Hiromitsu has chipped away at his protective tissue. Because it's Shiho.

"Staying away didn't save her." He doesn't need to say who - the same wound is carved into Shiho's heart, after all. And judging by the songs she chose to sing today, it still bleeds just the same.

She sighs, long-winded and too world-weary for a girl her age.

"No. No, it didn't. All it did was rob us of the time we had with her. Utter idiocy, in retrospect."

Shuuichi hums in agreement. Lost opportunities they'll never get back, all thanks to lies and the wish to protect her.

"I tried to push her away, you know? I was too involved - maybe, if she didn't know what I was doing, she could retain her innocence. Maybe she could even leave, one day, I'd hoped. But she clung to me stubbornly."

Never backing down from what she wanted, from those she loved. That's the women he fell for.

Shuuichi finds himself smiling, somewhat pained.

"She loved you dearly, to the bitter end."

He hands her the flip phone that has been his constant companion for almost a year now. Past the lockscreen waits Akemi's last message to him. With its P.S., asking him to protect her dear little sister, if the worst should come to pass.

He never got to reply to her, to promise that he would, of course he would.

It's short, so Shiho doesn't take long to read it. She attempts to hand it back, eyes glistening, but not crying.

Always composed, in front of him.

"Keep it."

It hurts to let go of it, but Shiho deserves to have assurance of Akemi's love, even in death.

(Unlike himself, who only ever lied to her.)

She looks up at him, uncertain, but what she reads on his face seems enough to convince her. She snaps the phone shut, cradles it to her chest.

Smiles grimly at him. "Thank you."

The rest of the car ride passes in silence.

They split up in front of the Kudo mansion.

"...I was planning to visit her grave on the weekend. You should come."

.

Shuuichi knows where Akemi's ashes have been laid to rest - he was the one to pay for her funeral, after all.

(Once upon a time, he'd dreamt of a future with her, of being family. Cruel irony, how that turned out to be true.)

Since her parents were never officially buried, and he hadn't been able to reach Shiho, he'd made the selfish decision to have Akemi's ashes stored in the Sera family grave.

He hasn't had the time to visit, yet - first, things had been too dangerous, then too busy, and by now, he's really just been unable to face her, alone. He's glad he doesn't have to, now.

Shiho sets down an incense stick, and some cut flowers - white gladioli. Shuuichi squats down next to her, puts down his flowers - lilies, also white - into the vase and lights the incense.

"Hey, sis. Look who I managed to drag along."

"Hello, Akemi." Sorry it took so long.

They stand, side by side, in silent prayer.

He's had days to prepare himself, to think about what he wants to say to her. But as he stands before her grave, all that's left is sorrow, a hollow in his chest where she should be.

(Filled with regret, and someone else. Jodie's right. He's a terrible partner.)

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry I couldn't tell you the truth.

I'm sorry I left you behind.

I'm sorry I couldn't protect you.

I miss you.

The gentle smile when she talked about her little sister. The sweet blush when he'd kissed her hand. The way she'd awkwardly apologize for flipping the pancake she was making for breakfast into the sink. The ikebana arrangements she'd spend hours and hours on, decorating her flat. Her kind hands, mending his body and soothing his soul. The way the sunlight would turn her hair into gold.

A thousand small joys she gave to him, and all he had for her in turn were lies.

He doesn't remember the last time he cried - maybe as a child, when he fell and scraped his knee. It feels so far away.

His body doesn't remember how to, either - otherwise he surely would be, now.

How cruel. Even in death, he can't show her his honest feelings.

Shuuichi shows her cold comfort, instead.

Takes out a plastic evidence bag he requisitioned from the PSB, and places it on the altar as an offering. In it, the shattered scope of a rifle, splattered with its owner's blood. Gin's. It was found by his side, together with his Beretta, the instrument of his voluntary destruction. As the PSB forces had closed in on him, he'd chosen to kill himself, rather than surrender.

When Shuuichi lies awake at night, it irks him that Gin had a choice, at the end, where he took it away from so many others. He didn't deserve that kindness. A part of him is furious that he wasn't there to see his enemy's dying breaths, preferably through the scope of his rifle.

But it was probably for the best - if he'd been there, he's not sure he could've reigned himself in. Might've murdered Gin with his own two hands, and become the kind of monster he swore to hunt. (And if he's completely honest, there's another possibility: caught in a struggle with his enemy, he might have lost sight of his surroundings and slipped up. Facing Gin, that would've been a death sentence.)

Instead, and he's got the boy to thank for that, he was tasked with keeping their allies - Rei - alive and breathing. He can't help but feel like that matters.

I'm sorry I couldn't avenge you; you deserved better.

But he won't be making anyone miserable, anymore.

It's over, and they're still standing, in defiance of the bloodlust of their enemies. He's managed to keep one promise to Akemi, at least.

I'll continue to watch over her, if she lets me.

Shiho claps beside him, done with her prayer.

Thank you for everything.

The incense stick's stump turns to ash and scatters in the wind.

I hope your spirit can find peace, Akemi.

.

When he lights himself a cigarette to calm his mind, Shiho holds out a hand, wordlessly, expectantly.

He regards her with mild curiosity, but offers the pack regardless.

"What. You think I haven't done worse?"

She snatches his lighter, and with a hiss of flame, lights up her own cigarette.

"Akemi used to tell me to stay away from drugs, but I deserve this for bringing you here."

She takes a deep drag, managing not to cough. It's clear, from her posture and practiced ease, that it's far from her first foray into smoking.

"I hated you, you know? For the longest time. For playing with her, breaking her heart, leaving her behind, all alone. Leaving her to die."

It burns his lungs, to have his own thoughts voiced out loud, by Shiho of all people. But he deserves every cruel word dropped from her lips - she speaks nothing but the truth, after all. He needs to bear her judgement.

Shiho smiles, grimly. Doesn't look at him, focused on the grave instead.

"But not Akemi. She saw through you, and loved you still. Forgave you, even, because that's the kind of person she was."

A cold spring breeze plays with her hair. The sweater and cap protect him from the worst of it, but it still bites at his face, makes his eyes sting.

"I don't think I can ever be as forgiving as she was. You were, and still often are, an unrepentant jerk."

She turns to look at him, eyes as hard as steel. So familiar his eyes burn. He can't look away.

"But her death is not your fault."

It's cloaked in insults and pain. But it's an absolution he could never have asked for, one no one else could have given him. His breathing stops, then comes a little easier.

"Neither is it Kudo's. Did he ever tell you? He was there, watched her die. For the longest time, I blamed him for not saving her. He's brilliant when he puts his mind to it. Did he care so little, as to not even try?"

She shakes her head.

"It is a cruel thing to begrudge him for having witnessed her death. He was just a kid - small, powerless, afraid. Up against enemies that tried to kill him, too, only failed through sheer luck. I had to first be put into the same shoes to understand that."

As if she's not just a kid now, too. Neither of them should have gone through what they did, and yet it happened, has left them weathered and worn, tired beyond their years. They're still young - he hopes they can recover from the worst.

"I'm trying to tell myself it's not my fault either. She died for me, for us, trying to get us out of there. But I didn't know. She kept it from me, in case something went wrong. And I lie awake, going over conversations, wondering if I missed any signs. If I could've warned her or stopped her. If she could still be here, that way."

He's familiar with the spirals and hypotheticals, repeating the scenario over and over, to look for a way out. It never changes the facts.

"That kind of thinking gets you nowhere."

She gives him a sharp glare, a wordless threat to 'shut the fuck up'. He takes a step back, raising a hand in surrender.

"I know it's useless. Because she is dead, and no amount of analysing can bring her back. At least the one person who truly is at fault will not be a problem any longer. That's a small comfort."

She glares at the scope with barely concealed hatred in her eyes.

"And that's all there is. Akemi was proud and strong-willed - she chose her path. Not reaching out to any of us for help was a choice she made. I can't take away her agency in this matter."

Shiho smiles, pained and beautiful in the setting sun.

"The worst thing is that if she hadn't done what she did, I might still be a prisoner of the organisation. I'd like to think she didn't want to die to achieve it, but she'd be so happy to see me living in the sunlight, once more."

"She would be overjoyed." It's an obvious and simple truth he can't help but confirm.

Oh. Shiho's crying, now, quiet tears trailing down her cheeks, reflecting the sunlight in streaks of gold. It shaves years of her worn face, makes her look as young as she truly is.

He gives her a handkerchief, is glad to see her accept it. She wipes her face, smudging some of the make-up - he'll need to let her know before they return to the public. She doesn't usually like it when people can see past her composure. Shuuichi's pretty sure he, too, shouldn't be here to witness this.

But she doesn't hide from him, today, so he'll take all she gives to him, and treasure it.

"I brought you here because I'm trying to be better. I got a second chance at life, and I want to take it, all of it, for myself and for Akemi. But I won't be able to, if I hold on to useless grudges."

She looks at the handkerchief in her hands.

"You're a jerk, but you're not horrible. And you're trying to be better, too."

She holds out her hand.

"I want to get to know you, Akai Shuuichi. Maybe we could start with meeting for coffee?"

He waits for her to take it back, to reconsider.

She just looks at him expectantly, raises an eyebrow too when he doesn't comply immediately.

Shuuichi is many things, but he tries not to be a coward.

So he fights the vertigo, takes a leap of faith.

"I'd like that."

And shakes her hand.

.

Sweater Weather AU masterpost

[stuckinapril]

HOT DOCTOR HOT DOCTOR HOT DOCTOR HOT DOCTOR

[lou-is-lurking]

one thing that keeps happening when I write otayuri is Otabek: well behaved, does as he's told, stays in his lane, only speaks when spoken to, doesn't derail dialogue with banter (unless provoked), actually more flexible than Yuri (characterization-wise, not physically), very versatile, truly can - and will - do it all Yuri: a menace. an unpredictable force of nature. will start shit, all the time, unprovoked. does whatever the fuck he wants. will derail dialogue as if it's an olympic sport. will not shut up (or will refuse to speak to anyone, there is no in between). can turn any plot into a trainwreck and is probably proud of it. 'oh cute outline you got there, would be such a shame if someone blew it to pieces...' -> distant sound of wordcount exploding (context: I spent all day yesterday working on one of my WIPs and the second I typed " for Yuri to start speaking the entire fucking scene went completely off the rails which was admittedly a ton of fun but also WE ARE NOT GETTING ANYWHERE LIKE THIS YURA FOR FUCKS SAKE PLS I AM BEGGING YOU JUST PLAY ALONG FOR ONCE AND LET ME FINISH THE CHAPTER OH MY GOD

[youssefguedira]

the color green + joenicky

N. The color green.

Joe doesn't notice him right away, too caught up in fiddling with the buttons on his shirt sleeves, which means for a few moments Nicky can just lean against the doorframe and watch him for a while. It doesn't matter that it's been nine hundred years: he's still so beautiful Nicky can't find the words for it.

He's in green because Nile's in green, and they're posing as the kind of people who would coordinate their outfits. It fits him perfectly, which Nicky had known because he'd taken the measurements for it, then he and Joe had adjusted it together, but knowing it in the abstract isn't the same as seeing how well it fits him. He's wearing black trousers and a white shirt with it, tie abandoned on the dresser.

Nicky is in a black t-shirt and black jeans, because his job is security and backup tonight. It was Joe's turn, anyway: Nicky wore the fancy suit last time.

Nicky clears his throat, just to make Joe turn around and smile at him, lighting up.

Nicky's not nearly as flowery with his words as Joe is; all he says is, “You look good.”

Joe raises an eyebrow, teasing, with just the hint of a smile. Is that the best you can do? “Oh, yeah?”

Nicky pushes off the doorframe and crosses the room towards him, picking up the tie as he goes. “Yeah,” he says. “Green suits you.”

The first time Nicolò ever saw him in something this fine was in Alexandria, after everything, because Yusuf was a merchant's son and had wanted something for himself, something that fit him properly, rather than whatever they could find when the clothes they were wearing became too bloody and full of holes to be recognisably garments anymore. He'd come back from the tailor in a deep green tunic that had caused Nicolò to forget his words in any language for a good while.

When Joe catches his eye now Nicky knows he's thinking about the exact same thing. Instead of saying anything, he loops the tie around Joe's neck and fastens the knot.

“Nile was asking for you,” Nicky says matter-of-factly, like he doesn't know exactly what the look Joe's giving him right now means. He keeps his expression neutral. “I think she wanted a second opinion. We have to leave soon, anyway.”

“Nicky,” Joe says.

“What?” Nicky asks, feigning obliviousness. He can't help laughing at the betrayed look on Joe's face.

“After,” he says. “Go do your job, habibi.”

[tricoufamily]

visiting the hometown

(want everyone to know this edit came to me in a dream and i changed the lore just to do it)

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Imprisoning War Drama is consuming me and I cannot contain it any longer, so... here you go.

Hemisi still couldn’t believe this was happening. Link was here. Zelda had sent him here.

Her beautiful, stupid, wonderful friend was right in front her. Her former betrothed was right in front of her. Her best friend was right in front of her.

The pretense, of course, was that he was there to help reestablish healthy relations with the Gerudo. It had been three years since the war, a time that Zelda apparently deemed long enough to acknowledge their existence again. Hyrule hadn’t helped the Gerudo at all in the past three years as Hemisi had struggled to protect and guide her people, as she’d tried to pick up the pieces from a once thriving civilization.

Hemisi had originally been angry about it. Angry about everything. On the one hand, it made sense – the Gerudo had been Hyrule’s enemy. The destruction of her own kingdom was due to Ganondorf, not Zelda. On the other hand, it felt like one last slap, taking her lover, her dignity, and any hope she had of receiving help for her people despite betraying her own father to help Hyrule.

But that was then. It had been three years. Hemisi couldn’t exactly say she liked Zelda or Hyrule, but she also couldn’t say she wanted to see that kingdom burn anymore. She probably wouldn’t mind beating the queen senseless, though. But that wasn’t exactly noble, and she was trying not to be like Ganondorf. Anger was an exhausting emotion, and she was working on not relying on it or feeding it all the time.

Anger was certainly not what she was feeling now. What she was feeling was utter disbelief and exhilaration.

Link was here.

Truly, such a reunion should merit some sort of show of emotion. Instead, what came out was, “You look like shit.”

Link’s somber expression immediately shattered, bursting into life with as he let out a laugh.

And just like that, it was as if the last three years hadn’t happened. It was as if their last conversation hadn’t been her trying to convince him to come home with her, to part ways with his wife and unborn heir. Link was immediately at ease, and Hemisi felt overwhelmingly happy.

Maybe they were just pretending. Maybe enough time had passed that somehow it just worked. It seemed impossible, strange, ridiculous that they were suddenly laughing in the small space that counted as Hemisi’s court room in their new settlement, but… somehow it worked.

Link’s laughter subsided, fading into a gentle, sincere smile. “You look beautiful.”

Well, that was quite the straightforward statement to say in front of all her guards. Link seemed to realize that too, despite Hemisi’s even blunter statement earlier, and he tried to backtrack, but Hemisi waved him off.

“You doing okay?” She asked, pushing beyond it as she smiled in acknowledgement of the compliment.

“Y-yeah,” Link shakily answered, though it was hard to tell if it was due to his earlier slip up or something else. “I’m… yes.”

The euphoria of their reunion was fading fast as something nagged Hemisi’s mind, and she said, “Well, I’m glad to hear it. There were rumors circulating that you were really ill, and I… I was worried.”

Link’s mood shifted, and he seemed to grow closed off nearly immediately. She’d seen the expression before, a mixture of a mask in front of nobles and superiors and the cold, calculating gaze he’d get when he had to guard himself. She felt a strange sense of pride and reassurance that she could still read him so well, but it was far outclassed by the worry that gnawed at her further.

Hemisi waved a dismissal to her guards, who all departed, leaving the pair alone. She rose from her seat (she hardly could call it a throne – none of their new accommodations compared to the splendor of their former capital, destroyed as it was) and walked up to him, closing the space between them. “I’m… look. We didn’t exactly end things on terrible terms last time, but we also didn’t exactly end them on great terms, either. I just wanted to say… for my part, I’m sorry.”

Link’s face softened, surprise peeking through the cracks. “For what?”

For what?! “Oh, I don’t know, for trying to seduce you?”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“Pretty sure I do, moron.”

Link sighed. “Fine. You’re forgiven.”

Well. Now the initial greeting was out of the way, the wave of excitement was disappearing, and they’d quickly addressed their last interaction.

…Now what? Goddesses, she missed when they could just be casual with each other, when they could just be friends. It had almost felt real for a moment, when they’d been laughing together.

Who knows? Maybe we can make something of this.

“The news was that you were to discuss relations with the Gerudo?” Hemisi prompted as Link seemed at a loss for words.

“Yes,” he hastily confirmed, trying to get his footing, lost in her gaze. “I—the queen wants to reestablish trade. With the border, at least.”

Hemisi read into the words easily. “So having a neutral zone, you mean? Where we can interact? But we’re not really allowed in the kingdom still, I presume?”

“Not—what? Hemisi, you came to the baby shower.”

“Upon being invited by the queen,” Hemisi noted, crossing her arms. “You think we’d have been allowed passage without the paperwork?”

Link’s brow furrowed, eyes upset, and he sighed, taking a step away.

Hemisi glanced around him as a new thought occurred to her in the silence created. “Where’s your entourage, anyway? Shouldn’t the mighty King of Hyrule have some royal party following him?”

“I don’t need one.”

“What about your shadow?”

“I asked Lady Impa to stay in the castle.”

Hemisi chuckled. “Oh, I bet she loved that.”

Link’s eyes grew sad, and he tipped his head to the side. There was clearly something he wanted to say, but he’d always been a quiet man. He kept his words to himself, sighing again.

Hemisi felt like she was fumbling some kind of negotiation before it had even begun. For the sake of her people and her sanity, she tried again. “Look, why don’t—why don’t we have a drink? I bet you haven’t had something as good as a Noble Pursuit since the war.”

The tip of Link’s mouth curled up slightly. “We never had a Noble Pursuit during the war. It was mead, remember?”

Oh, that’s right. It had tasted awful. “Well, then that means you’re in for a treat. Can’t a king enjoy a little beverage? It’s our hospitality.”

Link’s smile disappeared, replaced by something new, a soft, strange bemusement, thinly veiled behind a cool gaze.

“What?” Hemisi asked. “What is it?”

Links shifted, trying to find the right words. “Why are… you’re so… last time we talked…”

“Was over two years ago,” Hemisi reminded him. “What, you really thought I was petty enough to hold a grudge that long?”

“Was it just a grudge?” Link asked quietly, voice heavy.

Was our love just worth a grudge? Is that all it means to you? Hemisi wasn’t entirely sure that was what he was asking, but it certainly felt like it. Was he expecting her to be angry as she had been, bitter and vindictive and wanting to snap? Part of the reason she’d been so hostile then was because she’d immediately been insulted by the Hyrulians – she’d been trying to stay neutral during the visit. Her original mission had been to convince Link to return to her. She hadn’t been there to pick fights over anything else. She hadn’t been there to fight.

But there was something in the heaviness of his tone, in the exhaustion in his face that had merited her initial words, in the tension of his muscles. As much as Link played his part of the Hero, as much as he bowed and kissed the ground Queen Zelda walked on, he very clearly held far more feelings about the matter than he expressed.

It wasn’t as if Hemisi hadn’t known Link loved her, hadn’t recognized their parting would hurt him too. But he’d been the one to leave her. She hadn’t exactly expected him to be hurting as much as she had, left completely abandoned just after killing her father, left to pick up the pieces of a shattered kingdom and people by herself when he had promised to be by her side, left to mourn the loss of her entire family alone.

A familiar hurt and anger churned in her stomach and chest, but she bit her lip and tried to redirect it. “You know it wasn’t. But what are you expecting? You look as tired of it as I am. You’re the one who chose Hyrule, chose Zelda over me. Repeatedly. I did try to convince you otherwise both times. Now you’re surprised that I actually respected your choice?”

Link swallowed, taking a small step away, the dark presence that clouded him seeming to dissipate a little. “No, I—I’m sorry.”

“You keep saying that,” Hemisi dully snapped, not quite able to reel in her frustration. “Doesn’t change things. Can we just… try to move forward? And have fun now? Drinks?”

Link nodded sheepishly, letting her guide him to her room. If they’d been in her old home, there’d be an antechamber where she could entertain guests. But as it was, in this new settlement they’d established at the oasis they’d found, she hardly had a regular sized house. The throne room was the only place to have an audience with people formally, and drinks hardly seemed a formal affair to be had there. As she passed the hallway leading there, letting Link get ahead of her, she paused, looking one of her trusted guards in the eye. “Don’t… if we drink a little too much… do me a favor. Don’t let it get crazy.”

The guard raised her eyebrow.

“You know what I’m talking about,” Hemisi whispered irritably. “No matter our feelings for each other, and no matter the choices we make about our relationship, we’re acting on that sober.”

It wasn’t like Hemisi was expecting anything to happen, of course. But alcohol was getting involved. And as much tension as there still seemed to be between them… well. She just… she was better than that. The baby shower had been her last attempt, one last act of hope, a thought that if the queen had an heir Link’s duty was fulfilled. She was not going to be so pathetic as to keep pursuing someone who had chosen another woman, no matter her feelings on the matter.

The guard nodded. “I can respect that. Nothing will happen.”

Feeling far more secure about the matter, she walked into her room. Link was standing in the center a little awkwardly, but his gaze had fixed on one of the walls, eyes a little wide, mouth a little parted, expression unguarded. It was a mixture of surprise, amusement, and regret, eyebrows moving subtly between the three along with his lips.

Hemisi huffed, walking up beside him as she looked at the wall in question. On it was an old painting of Ganondorf (it had originally depicted the entire royal family, but she’d cut him out and kept the rest elsewhere), pinned to the wall with multiple daggers that had been thrown at it. She was still most proud of the one she’d thrown that had ended up between his eyes. It held the piece quite well.

“You like it?” She asked, crossing her arms. “It’s my therapy.”

Link snorted and nodded. “I’m surprised you don’t have one of Zelda.”

Hemisi’s eyebrows rose in surprise. She hadn’t expected that to come out of his mouth. Link seemed equally surprised that he’d admitted it, and he shifted anxiously, asking about the Noble Pursuit. Chuckling, she walked over to where the bottle was sitting in the shade, commenting, “I probably would’ve had one for her a couple years ago. But you didn’t want that, remember?”

She wasn’t quite resentful enough of the queen to throw daggers at her. Zelda herself had seen and dealt with some shit, based on the little Hemisi knew. That didn’t mean she liked her, though. At all. She wouldn’t mind throttling her, honestly. But still. The queen wasn’t nearly on the same level of Hemisi’s hatred as Ganondorf.

This wasn’t something she really wanted to talk about much, anyway. If she vented to Link about how she wanted to punch his wife, he’d certainly jump to her defense, whether he himself liked her or not. And if his defense did prove that he liked her, it would only increase Hemisi’s ire, which was frustrating to just think about. She didn’t want to be petty or jealous. She was better than that.

Even if it did hurt. Even if the past three years alone could have been spent with someone who loved her and supported her, even if maybe her struggle to rebuild the Gerudo might not have been so terrible (or even lethal to some who had died in the interim) for everyone involved.

Hemisi was more than just a spurned lover. She was a chief of the Gerudo, she was a warrior. She would not perseverate on the queen.

She just wanted her friend back. She was hoping a little alcohol would loosen them both up to have an actual conversation.

Three drinks later, they were having more than just an actual conversation. They were having fun.

Link laughed as he put his glass down and leapt to his feet. “Okay, but I want to contribute to your therapy, to your masterpiece over there.”

Hemisi giggled. “With what? You’re not using my knives.”

“I have kunai,” he said easily with a wave of his hand.

“You still carry those, oh mighty ruler?”

“I told you, I don’t need an escort for a reason.”

Hemisi barked out a laugh as she stood on her bed, motioning towards the painting of Ganondorf. “Go for it, then. Good luck hitting anything when you can’t see straight!”

Link wiggled his eyebrows challengingly. “I’ll get him in the jewels.”

“I already got a knife in his headdress and I’m not moving it.”

Link’s smile grew. “You’ll see.”

Hemisi hummed, looking skeptical. What was he going to do, try to knock her knife off the jewelry that adorned Ganondorf’s forehead? Link faced the portrait, hand steady despite how glazed his eyes were from the drinks. He focused for a moment, and oh how her heart fluttered at the sight of it, oh how she remembered all the battles they’d fought together in the war, and oh how—

How the kunai flew, how it whistled through the air it cut as it passed, how it hit sunk into the canvas perfectly, how it landed right between the dead king’s legs.

Hemisi gawked for a moment, Link looked delighted and victorious, and they both scream yelled at the shot, raising their arms in unison.

The air was filled with excitement and glee, at the two young adults laughing and screaming with glee, at how Hemisi leapt up and down on her mattress cheering before she leapt into Link’s open arms and he spun her around. They were giggling in absolute delight, laughing at the release of the moment, at how it finally seemed to entirely break whatever barrier they were keeping between each other. Link got dizzy from spinning and fell backwards, and both rulers landed on the bed with a grunt, breathless from their amusement.

Hemisi jumped up as soon as she had breath to do so, stumbling a little. Link caught her before she fell on a table, and she laughed again, leaning against it instead.

“You’re a lightweight,” Link commented with a chuckle.

“Am not!” She snapped playfully, shoving him away from her with a laugh. Then she glanced at the art. “Feels good to do that, though, doesn’t it?”

Link looked as well, smiling. “Yeah. Too bad I couldn’t make that shot in the last fight.”

Hemisi wheezed. “Goddess, that would’ve been fucking amazing.”

The pair giggled, and then Link seemed to grow contemplative a moment, asking, “You really… I’m sorry. That he… that everything. You know?”

“Why do you apologize so much, Link?” Hemisi asked, far less irritated about it now that her mind was addled.

“I don’t know,” he answered. Clearly alcohol loosed his lips far more than she remembered.

Ah, wait, but there was that time she dared him to call Impa his mother. Maybe she’d underestimated how much alcohol messed with him.

“Pfff, and you call me the lightweight,” she snarked.

Link rolled his eyes, only mildly exasperated. “Fine. It’s all his fault anyway.”

“Damn right it is.”

“But I… I mean… us…”

The air grew thick, and the two grew quiet. Then, softly, Link tried to ask, “Do… do you still…?”

“Do I still what?” Hemisi pressed impatiently, reaching for her drink. “Speak up, goofball. Remember when I used to tell you that when we were first dating? My gosh you were such a quiet, timid little thing.”

“I wasn’t timid,” Link huffed. “Just not used to being allowed to speak.”

“Well that’s stupid.”

“Unlike you, I was just a guard, not royalty.”

“Different now, isn’t it?”

Link sombered again. “Yeah. It is.”

Then he looked her dead in the eye. “I still love you.”

Hemisi nearly choked on her spit, breath ripped out of her. What the—

What was she even supposed to say to that?!

Well. If she was sober she’d probably contemplate that more. Instead, she just said, “I still love you too.”

Link blinked. “…O-oh.”

Hemisi laughed so hard her ribs hurt. “Oh? That’s all you have to say? You’re hopeless! Did you really think I hadn’t? What, just because you said ‘no’ and I respected that you thought that was it?”

Link blubbered, flustered, cheeks far more flushed than they were a moment ago.

“I get it,” Hemisi interrupted his pathetic attempt to formulate words. “You love Hyrule more.”

Link’s stuttering ceased, and he watched her with a clear gaze. Then he sighed, looking away, eyes distant. “I… yeah.”

Hemisi’s heart ached, but it also swelled. His selflessness was one of the reasons she loved him so much. She just… had never imagined it would come between them. “Hyrule has a good Hero.”

Link’s lip wobbled a little, eyes growing glassy, alarming the Gerudo chief a little. He looked at her a moment, eyes pleading, desperately fighting for control, but the alcohol was preventing it from happening, and the tears trickled down his face.

“Oh, love,” Hemisi said, hearing her own voice tremble, and she walked over to him, pulling him into a hug. “I know.”

“I’m sorry,” he cried quietly, words thick and choking in his throat. “I’m sorry.”

Hemisi felt his tears on her shoulder, felt him tremble in her arms. She was uncomfortable and warm, on the verge of tears herself, addled and ecstatic, and instead of really digging into the issue as she might have when she was sober, she kissed his head and said, “It’s okay. You love Hyrule. But… do you love Zelda more than me?”

Link’s quiet cries were sharply interrupted by a hiccup and a snort, and he yanked away from her, expression bewildered.

“Well?” Hemisi pressed, sniffling and poking his chest. In the back of her mind, a voice that was probably what was left of her rational side whispered, this is so pathetically stupid WHAT ARE YOU DOING JUST HUG THE POOR GUY YOU IDIOT.

Meh. She wanted to know. They could hug after.

Link laughed. “You—you really—you have to ask??”

Hemisi grew mildly annoyed. “Yes!”

“W-wait, I—” Link moved out of her reach, heading for the table. “I need more alcohol for this.”

“Coward!” She called after him, his laughter contagious.

After taking another swig, Link walked back to her and pulled her to him, their lips meeting, and goddess she immediately drank him in, their bodies pressed so close, and Link poured all his energy into the kiss, hands roaming, and great Din above, Hemisi started to tug, started to feel her heart quicken, her body scream for just one thing, and—

A pole wedged itself between the couple as one of her guards jutted the handle of her spear to separate them. “That’s enough of that, Majesties.”

Link’s cheeks matched Hemisi’s hair, and the Gerudo chief rolled her eyes. “Leave us be!”

“Your orders, my chief.”

Ugh. It was a stupid order.

The guard gently but firmly grabbed Link by the arm, dragging him for the door. Before he left, though, he shot her a smile and a wink, and she knew, she knew in that moment who he loved more.

She smiled, collapsing on the bed, and before the door had even closed she was drifting off to sleep.

XXX

Hemisi groaned. Her head was killing her, and everything was too freaking bright.

She really didn’t remember much of last night, but she knew she’d had far too many drinks. Even if she didn’t recall that much, her body was certainly screaming it.

What had even happened last night? She remembered how it had started. As she tried to comb through fuzzy images, the linear progression steadily unraveled. She blinked her eyes open hesitantly to find herself alone in bed, still wearing her attire from yesterday, and she sighed a little in relief from that. At least nothing neither had planned had occurred.

So where was Link?

Slowly sitting up, Hemisi hissed as some sunlight peeked between the curtains of her room, hitting her eyes like a slap to the face. She shielded her face, grumbling and cussing as she nearly crawled out of the room.

“Good morning,” her guard greeted her.

Hemisi glowered halfheartedly at her, ignoring the fact that she likely looked like a disaster. “Where’s the king?”

“In the guest quarters.”

“We have those in this place?”

“We converted one of the guard’s rooms into one.”

Did they? Was that something Hemisi had planned for Link’s arrival? She didn’t remember that either. Great.

Leaning against the wall, she half dragged herself to the room in question, finding Link leaning over the bed, head nearly buried in a pot. He spat in it, clearly having just gotten ill, hair spilling over his shoulders. A twinge of sympathy pulled at her, and Hemisi sat on the bed, pulling his hair out of his face.

“Morning,” she echoed her guard’s greeting, waiting for a similar bite in reply.

Link just groaned.

In the past she would have laughed at him. Today, she just felt pity. She had been the one to encourage it, after all. She rubbed his back a little apologetically, waiting to see if he was going to get sick again. Instead, he slowly pulled back, grabbing a handkerchief and wiping his mouth.

“It’s been a while since I’ve been hungover,” Hemisi noted quietly, feeling her head throb rhythmically. She grimaced, closing her eyes. She almost apologized, but she chose the better route, smiling. “You’re a terrible influence on me.”

Link huffed, turning and nearly pouncing on her, tackling her to the bed and holding her hostage in his arms. Hemisi yelped, irritated at the motion as it made her headache worse, but also giggling at the roughhousing. She shoved hard against him, but he refused to let go.

“What are you doing, you butthead?” She grumbled, wiggling in his grip.

“Sleeping,” he slurred tiredly.

“Your breath smells awful.”

“‘S your fault.”

Hemisi huffed, admitting defeat. Her heart hammered with cheer at his behavior, at how they could still be casual around each other without the help of liquid confidence. Perhaps it was just that his mind was still addled from the hangover, from feeling uncomfortable and ill, but she’d take it.

Besides, she felt like garbage. She wanted to sleep. Link clearly was slipping back into a nap. So she just joined him.

When the pair woke again, It was nearly midday. A pitcher of water was resting on the nightstand, though neither knew when it had been placed there. Hemisi honestly didn’t want to really start the day, boneless and warm, safe and comfortable in Link’s arms. She remembered all the times they’d snuggled together to stave off the cold, for protection and a sense of security, weapons at the ready, wanting some kind of assurance that the other was okay, that they themselves weren’t vulnerable.

She missed the war. She missed the war.

Things were far more straightforward back then.

Killing was straightforward.

Link shifted a little, snapping Hemisi out of her musings, and she looked over to see him watching her. He was half asleep still, eyes a little glazed but so, so soft, face relaxed and open.

“Hey,” she greeted quietly.

“Hey,” he whispered back.

The moment lasted too long, each lover lost in the other’s eyes. Hemisi felt herself leaning in, Link reciprocating, and they both pulled away at the same time, sitting up with excited energy.

“Well,” Hemisi quipped breathlessly. “Guess we should do those negotiations, right?”

Link blinked, watching her a moment longer, and then squeezed his eyes shut, taking a deep breath and rubbing his eyes. “Yeah. We should.”

“Not that last night wasn’t fun, of course,” Hemisi added with a nervous laugh, genuinely adding, “I don’t remember much of it, but what I do remember was… really nice. Maybe we can still have fun, you know? Without blacking out, at least.” Curious, she added, “Do you remember anything?”

Link huffed a little, mildly amused as he stretched. “Not really.”

Oh well. She was wondering if she could get more information on what had occurred, but whatever. They’d had fun, at least. “Well, we both could use a good start to the day. What about a nice warm bath? With some salts and nice oils… and a massage! Goddess, I sure could use one. I could arrange for it.”

Link peered over at her, letting his hand fall to his lap, and he smiled. “That sounds nice.”

Hemisi felt herself smile in return. They could have a nice day. They could. She scooted in front of him and leaned in cautiously for a hug. Link let her relax against him, carefully wrapping his arms around her once more.

Humming, melting into the embrace, Hemisi noted, “Goddess, I’m glad Zelda sent you alone. This would be way less fun if she came.”

For a moment, nothing happened. She listened to Link’s heart beat against her ear. His arms pulled her closer. And then his entire body stiffened. She felt his chest go rigid, trapping a breath in it, and slowly his arms slipped away. Hemisi pulled away, a little confused, and saw Link staring at nothing, eyes hard, face like a stone.

“Yes. Yes, she did send me alone.” He noted quietly, voice like ice.

Hemisi blinked a few times, feeling like she’d just gotten whiplash. “Y-yeah. She… what’s wrong?”

Link rose abruptly. “We should go downstairs to discuss the trading between Hyrule and the Gerudo.”

The entire atmosphere had changed. The coldest desert nights had never felt this frigid. Hemisi hesitantly rose. “R-right. I…”

She didn’t know what had happened, what was wrong, what she had said. Given how carefree and silly they’d been last night, given how gentle and caring they’d been this morning… how had she said something wrong?

Doubting and overthinking everything she’d stated today, she clarified, “You know I meant… separate. Separate baths. Right?”

Link glanced at her, and though his expression didn’t change, his eyes melted a little, trying to show some concern. “I know.”

That was all he said, and there was still finality to it. Reluctantly, Hemisi walked out of the room, wondering what the heck just happened and how she’d managed to ruin everything.

Link joined her downstairs shortly after, looking somewhat put together. Despite little hints of lightheartedness that she’d throw him, he kept everything strictly formal. The negotiations were quick enough, and before sunset he was ready to depart. Hemisi offered for him to stay the night, to rest and relax, to eat something because by the Goddess Din herself he didn’t look as healthy as he used to, but he refused.

Hemisi watched him go in the dark, her heart heavy, wondering how seeing him again had made things so much worse.

XXX

The king’s arrival in the throne room was unexpected, but the room was cleared quickly as he walked towards the queen.

“Welcome back,” Zelda greeted, a little confused. “I thought you might be gone a little longer. Did it—”

“You did that on purpose, sending me there alone,” Link interrupted her, eyes fierce. “You used me.”

Zelda flinched a little, not used to this vehemence from him, never having seen this. Even at his darkest, cruelest moment, when he’d refused to see Sonia, he’d been cold and quiet. This was the exact opposite. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t speak to me like I am fool, Your Majesty,” Link growled. “I did not enter our marriage out of blind loyalty and obedience. I’m not your political toy to continue abusing! You sent me there to curry favor with Hemisi!”

“I—yes,” Zelda answered honestly. Somehow, that derailed her husband a little, though it seemed the fire was quickly returning. It gave her time to elaborate. “I wanted to reestablish relations with the Gerudo, and you were the best person to choose for that. You two love each other.”

Link’s brow furrowed further. “Yes. We do. And you knowing that means you sent me there to exploit it. You’re using me to get to her.”

“I just…” Zelda stumbled over her words, heart racing, trying to not feel slightly afraid by this turn of events. “I just want you to be happy.”

“And you want to be able to conveniently control the Gerudo through me!” Link corrected her. “This has nothing to do with me being happy. Do you think so little of me that you assumed I’d just go there and throw myself at her, that I don’t take my vows seriously? Do you think I am that much of a simpleton, a mindless animal driven only by feelings and cravings? You think I’m an idiot?”

“No!” Zelda argued, rising from the throne. “I just—it isn’t meant as an insult or a trap, you wouldn’t be the first—”

“You’re comparing me to your father now?” Link scoffed, voice rising as he gestured angrily. “Can you insult me any further? Will you call me Ganondorf next?”

“Link—”

“I agreed to our marriage because it was a desperate plea, a last-ditch effort to prevent further destruction,” Link growled. “I did it to protect Hyrule, to protect Hemisi, to protect you. You weren’t trying to use me as much back then – you were trying to look out for your people. And you were willing to sacrifice both of us, and I understood and accepted that. I didn’t just follow your orders, I knew what I was agreeing to, I meant my vows when I took them! I committed to this arrangement in every way possible, and you dare treat me like some pawn you can—”

Link cut himself, seemingly enraged beyond words, and he took a breath to calm himself a little before hissing, “Don’t try to use me like that. I am not a blind fool. You think I have spent years in this castle and not learned the politics? I’ve allowed you to utilize me multiple times, but I will not be your tool to hurt or control her. You will never control Hemisi.”

The throne room was deathly quiet as the two monarchs stared each other down. Link’s red eyes were like fire, glare furrowing his brow deeply, while Zelda’s green eyes held uncertainty and hurt, confusion and fear, and the king gave a jerky, terse nod of acknowledgement before storming out of the room.

Zelda slowly sat back down on the throne, releasing a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, and buried her face in her hand as she leaned to the side. There were quiet footsteps, carefully loud enough to be heard when they had every ability to hide themselves.

“I thought you had ensured everyone left so no one could listen to our conversation,” Zelda noted tiredly.

“I did,” Impa replied. “And then I came back.”

Zelda blew out a frustrated breath, rising to her feet. “I don’t understand why he’s so upset! I was doing him a favor! He loves Hemisi, they can be together and it still benefits the kingdom!”

“Zelda,” Impa tried to explain gently, but her tone only irritated the queen further.

“Don’t,” Zelda cut her off. “Don’t talk to me like I’m some ignorant little girl. I’ve been ruling Hyrule for almost five years now, I’m not a child who knows nothing!”

“I didn’t say you were, Your Majesty,” Impa said appeasingly.

“Link shouldn’t be—this is so—I can’t win with him!” She snapped, feeling tears sting in her eyes.

Just like with my father.

Why couldn’t this just be easy?! Why couldn’t one thing in her life be easy?!

“Your Majesty,” Impa tried again. “You can’t… you can’t control others’ lives. It’s not like… just giving orders to accomplish a goal.”

“I’ve healed Hyrule through my orders,” Zelda reminded her advisor.

“Yes, you have. But Link isn’t a kingdom, a distant group of people, a problem to be solved. He’s a person.”

“So are the nobles.”

“You manipulate them because you have to. That doesn’t mean you should manipulate everyone.”

It was called manipulation when there was a negative outcome. It was called helping when there was a positive one. If Link had just listened and understood his duty, it would have been a positive outcome!

Zelda sighed tiredly, hugging herself and turning away. Impa was her confidante and advisor. She should listen to her. But…

She needed to pray. She needed to sort this out.

“I’ll be in the temple if you need me,” she said quietly, leaving the throne room, trying to get the terrifying image of Link’s furious face out of her mind.

[cerealmonster15]

silver 😑 with his one(1) facial expression + the two most expressive people on this earth that he hangs out with every day

and kalisil :3