#i was like. how much information do i give do i drop only the title or do i do a small summary as well do i scream about the show

[stormyoceans]

what is your header from? 👀

hello, anon!!!!

my header is from the bl series 'first note of love', which is a taiwanese and thai co-production. the story follows xiao hai, a young composer known by the name 'sea' who one day is unexpectedly invited to work with his childhood idol, neil. neil used to be part of the band 'magnet' alongside his brother, matt, but after the latter's death neil withdrew from the spotlight. now, six years later, xiao hai might be the only one able to help neil save his career, and himself too

okay as you can see writing summaries is not really my forte, sorry ;;;;;;; but the two characters in my header are indeed the main ones, neil and xiao hai!!!! and forehead touch is kind of a Thing™ in the show

fair warning: some blabbering ahead ;;;;;; (but no spoilers, don't worry!!!!)

i personally LOVE this show, and if it doesn't somehow mess up on the last episode it's definitely gonna be one of my favorites of the year, but i know most people wouldn't agree with me, which i understand. this isn't an overly romantic show, in the sense that the romance, while obviously there, is only a part of the story, and when it happens they do not wallow in it for long, they don't spell things out step by step, which can be both boring and frustrating considering the short run-time of the episodes

however there are just SO MANY great things about it: it's a BL about music that actually puts the music front and center (the soundtrack is AMAZING), the characters are all memorable and incredibly likeable, the multilingualism is very realistic, there’s no unnecessary drama, and above all the show is just so..tender. i really can't find another word to describe the way it deals with grief and love, it just feels like a warm and comforting hug assuring you that everything is gonna be alright

ANYWAY. if my blabbering didn’t scare you off, the show is actually ending on monday and the episodes are only 25/30 minutes long, so it would be the perfect time to do a binge watch JUST SAYING

[prettyboykatsuki]

chewtoy | s. gojo

✮ tags ; dead dove: do not eat, noncon, humiliation, abuse of power / power imbalance, master / servant relationship, titles like master satoru, he's being Really Fucking Weird (sniffs u a bunch...rip), oral(f!receiving) 18+

✮ wc ; 2k (????)

✮ a/n ; horrible horrible man. can he leave me alone. extension of this

"The young Master is calling for you."

You try not to flinch. Aiko gives you a warm, summery smile and a soft nudge to your side. You can only assume this means you've succeeded and she doesn't sense your disgust.

"He's so fond of you," She ends her sentence with a wispy sigh. "Must be nice to have a rich, powerful man fawn over you a bit, right?"

You remain indifferent. She smiles again. You think she is infinitely more beautiful than you. Soft, bouncy hair and smooth skin. Her naive nature makes her shine brighter than one thousand suns. It'd be nice if the young Master showed interest in someone like her.

You put the dream to rest quickly.

"You shouldn't keep him waiting," She hums. It's so innocent. "Go on, don't let me keep you."

You don't tell her you wish she would keep you. She is also right that you should not keep him waiting. If he's summoned you to his chambers deliberately, that means he is already feeling impatient. Master Satoru never seeks you out unless he is in some kind of mood.

He's had this habit since childhood. You've never made him aware of it, and you don't plan too. One of the few things you help you know what to expect from him.

You nod her along, tell her to finish up work in the living quarters to which she agrees merrily. Her spirits are lifted by the prospect of the young Master showing you fondness. Some part of you wishes you could share in her joy.

A pit of dread makes your steps heavy, but your footfall is light and beautiful. You are poised and cool as you walk along the dark, dreary hallways that lead to the Master's office.

A door swallowed in shadow, a single light shining on the golden plaque with the young Master's full name. You knock twice, announcing yourself.

"You're here," He says. You try not to flinch. You're certain you do not succeed. You are thankful he cannot see you - or you hope he can't. "Come in,"

You open the door and step inside to his office - shutting the door behind you. Muscle memory guides you to your curtsy. You bow politely.

"Yes, Master?"

"So stuffy," His voice makes your chest feel tight with discomfort. Frustration ebbs underneath it, cuts like a jagged edged knife. "At least call me, Satoru. Our relationship is much better than that, I thought."

"I could never be so informal to the young Master," You say, and then concede. "But I will call you Master Satoru, if you wish."

"How obstinate," He drawls. You do not life your head to see the face he makes. You already know what it looks like. It's burned into your mind. "But I suppose I'll make do. Lift your head."

You lift your head, but do not look at his face.

"Come closer,"

You step towards him, your lungs pushing air out of you manually. Remembering to breathe evenly is a herculean task. He beckons you closer until you're within distance of his touch.

He glances at you. "Look at me."

You try not to hesitate and force your eyes forward. His eyes undress you. Pointed gaze falls along your features, outlines your every inch, and analyzes your face. You remain even. He hums.

His frivolity is missing. This is suddenly more frightening. His mood is worse than you thought.

"Lift your skirt,"

Your muscles tense as you try not to shake. You succeed. He lets out a soft breath before he drops down onto his knees. You do not let yourself make any sort of expression, averting your gaze. He stares long and hard at your clothed pussy.

You tremble. He assess you silently, eyes flitting up.

"Sit in my chair with your skirt over your waist. So I can see you properly and all."

You listen to his instructions mindlessly. The velvet of his chair and warmth of his remaining body heat touch your bare ass and thighs. Satoru turns to you, still on knees. His hand wraps around your ankles and slips your shoes off of you.

You close your eyes. Sudden intimacy makes you slink back.

"Look at me."

It is is a command. You let your gaze fall on him again and watch on in excruciating nausea. Your stomach twists violently at the fragility of it all. Slender fingers hook into your knee socks and pull them down along your calve until they're off. His gaze catches yours. He does not smile at you. His hand comes around your ankle again and lifts your leg closer to his face. His nose presses against the bend of your foot.

He inhales. You try not to react but you can feel your eyes go wide. Feel your muscles clench, your heart sinking. Iron fills your mouth.

He lets his nose nudge up against the top of your calf.

"Young Master,"

He stares at you. Irritation flits through his gaze. There's no getting out of this, no mercy. You slink back again. He does smile that time.

Your body prickles with unwanted heat at the sensation. He licks along your legs, biting the supple skin - huffing the scent of your sweat every time he goes along. His teeth sink perversely into your flesh, sucking until there's throbbing, marks against your calves. The color of an orchid, purple and red. Fear strikes in you like a match. His grip on your ankles moves to the back of your calves and squeezes tight. He repeats the process on both calves intently.

There's claim to this. You know this part of him. He is claiming you with vicious confidence. Something with deeper magnitude then lust. For you, he is desire and ownership and want incarnat. A testament of his own beliefs. You willfully do no make noise aside from a gasp or breath.

You don't know how long it takes until he's satisfied with the state both legs.

He moves up. Bites the soft flesh of your thigh. You nearly spit out another useless plea. Shamelessness makes up his every move. His tongue slides over every single inch of your bare skin until his noses brushes along your cunt.

He doesn't lick you there. Not right away. Again he sniffs, breathes you in deep and uncomfortable. It's violating in all senses of the word, his grip tightening on your thighs as he huffs your scent. You haven't bathed. You've practically been running around since morning, but he doesn't let up and breathes you in anyway.

You squirm at that point. Your face contorts so slightly and he's watching you for it. His face finally cracks a smile and abject dread makes your spine lock up.

"Mm," He emphasizes the sound. It's so loud in such a quiet room. "That's it."

You don't have the strength to say anything.

It's frighteningly abrupt and rough, the feeling of his mouth along your pussy. He sucks at your clit from outside the fabric and you gasp - suddenly helpless. It's not the first time, of course not. But it's never this... random. Never this rough.

Your back arches at the sudden motion, face breaking - and Satoru grips you tighter and forces you back into the chair. Forces his tongue against your clit and sucks hard through the cotton material. Your body betrays you in its reaction - nipples pebbling underneath your clothes. Nearly screaming from the sensitivity. Your lower body is all ache - hickeys and bruises and bite marks making you throb perpetually. Too much, too much, too much.

Shame floods your system as the first spike of arousal forces itself from you - your cunt floods, gushing with a sudden spike of want from rough treatment. The sound of him sucking you so hard and drenching it with his saliva echoes across the room. You're sure it's traveling into the hall.

"Master Satoru," Your voice is even but it cracks on his name. Tears form at the corners of your eyes - fear and shame mixing into desperation. "Satoru,"

He hums into your pussy and you shake. "What is it? What wish would you like your master to fulfill for you.

"Please," Your voice is hoarse. Bone-deep exhaustion is out done by adrenaline. "Not through the fabric, please. It's dirty."

He sucks again and you keen - nails digging into your palms as you throw your head back.

"Your Masters spit soaking your panties is dirty? How rude." He teases. The whimper leaves your mouth without permission. You wish this would end soon but even amidst your fog you know that is not more than a pipe dream.

He takes them off. Rolls them down your thighs all wet and drops them. You let out a sigh of relief before his nose bridges touches your clit again. Swallowing the sound, you look away.

"It's soaked," He says conversationally, "Your needy little cunt is making a mess of your Master's chair. Tsk, tsk - so shameful."

"I'm sorry," You croak, unsure of what else to say. "I'll clean it."

He laughs, seemingly alleviated from his prior upset at the state of your humiliation.

"I'm sure you'll do an excellent job," He rests his hand over the mound of your sex - using pointer and thumb to spread your lips apart and get view of your swollen little clit. He breathes on it. "But you're still begging me for my attention down here. Filthy pussy for such a meticulous maid. Do you know how wet you are? Did you miss me so much?"

You don't answer him. He goes on.

"I thought of you all week," His voice is soft. Tinged with affection, or something like it. "Ahh, dealing with higher ups is such a pain."

You stare at him. He looks back at you with a smile. You flinch. You flinch certainly. "But I can always take it out on you, can't I? This perfect, filthy, needy cunt. It'll only every belong to me and I get to use it to my hearts content. I thought of that suddenly then called you."

It's not just your cunt he's interested in. That'd be relieving if that were the case. If he only ever used you to vent his sexual frustrations, treat you like a personal cocksleeve. You think it might be better that way.

He's too fond of you for that.

The young Master treats you like a chew toy instead. He bites, licks, slobbers, and misuses you. He might hump you to chase his high from time to time, might throw you around for rough sex should the mood suit him. But he's not a clueless oaf, some classless barbarian who only feels pleasure from his cock.

His violation is something else. It's deeper in scent, richer in taste. It is born from his greatness.

He's smart enough to know exploitation and that's what gets him off most. He exploits you. Exploits your reactive body, exploits your stoicism, exploits your dedication to your duty. You're his chew toy because you are designed to be unbreakable. You are indestructible.

But you have the perfect amount of give. You flinch, sigh, and whimper enough to make your Master thrilled. You squeak and moan like you're heat addled when he plays with you enough.

To Satoru, you're the most perfect thing to ever grace his life. His favorite toy that he's bitten at since he was just a boy and grew so fond of.

No matter how much you end up in tatters, Satoru can't help but love you with all of his heart.

You get exhausted being thrown around. But you can't go anywhere, either. He's so watchful of you. He might go crazy and bite if you were to disappear.

"Cum for me," He says, sucking on your clit much more softly. He's gentle but exact. Knows the ins and outs of your body enough to send you racing towards the edge with an unimaginable speed. You gasp and shudder, holding onto his chair for your life as an orgasm shoots through like lightning through a telephone wire.

You cum. You cum hard, bruised and mind-broken and nauseous and you cum so hard something spurts out of you and makes the chair wet. The young Master is nonplussed of course, and laps it up like a dog drinking water.

"Ahh, much better." He's pleased as he stands up and then bends down to your height. His hand cradles the back of your neck with a pleasant sigh as he forces a cum-soaked kiss onto your mouth. "Just as I thought, you were just what I needed."

Utterly defeated, you pull away with a gasp. "...I'm happy to serve you, Master Satoru."

"Such a nice sentence from your mouth, true or not." He gives you one more kiss, to the crown of your head. Too tender, too raw. "Prepare yourself to service me a bit more, then."

[allthegothihopgirls]

alfred, who writes in a journal every day unbeknownst to the bats.

alfred, who's journals aren't marked by a period of time, or his own age, instead by the names of those he looks after. when dick is first adopted, and he knows this change is permanent, he puchases a new journal, despite his existing one being only 2/3 full. this one has a simple 'richard' written with a gold accent on the cover, a change from the last 8, titled 'bruce'.

alfred, who somehow makes journaling more of a logbook, albeit still personal. he's writing about himself, sure. memories of old friends, his travels, stories he's heard, things he has experienced.

but he mainly writes of them, the things they do, how they act. their character quirks that they haven't even picked up on yet themselves. the things he wishes he could tell them as a parent, instead of butler. the things they should know about those who've come before them. the regrets he has, and changes he's making. how they've molded him into a new person.

alfred, who will take all this information to the grave. until then, they stay packed in their respective boxes, some dustier than others, in the back of his wardrobe in the manor.

the contents of those journals aren't specific to each kid. everyone's within those pages. in tim's there's a lot about jason, and damian's has a lot about bruce. nothing's overly invasive in them, and the furthest it strays from the truth is when sometimes alfred admits to believing a different set of events to whatever he's been told, and even then he's probably right.

jason, who receives his journals prematurely. there's only 2, there should have been more. it's painfully obvious the cutoff, how it wasn't supposed to end there, but still it did. he receives them post-resurrection, convinced he doesn't belong in the world. his memories of robin growing fogged and becoming twisted.

he reads them and he cries, maybe it's because he forgot how much good there was in those times, or maybe it's because that's the determining moment in his new life where he decides that he really deserves and wants to live, because his existence runs deeper than being the robin who died.

frankly it's quite jarring for jason, to read about himself from another's perspective. as much as i love the idea of him and alfred getting along the best out of all the kids, he definitely distances himself for a while to process everything. he slowly creeps back though.

no one else gets to read their share until alfred's gone, and when they do it goes unspoken, no one pries to know anything outside of their dedicated journals.

jason, after hesitance and much internal conflict, drops off his own on dick's nightstand one night. receiving them back, two weeks later, is a silent affair face-to-face.

tim, similarly, on no one's accord but his own, gives jason his, to keep. he says something about how he doesn't think they were ever about him, and they seemed much more like a sequel. he also apologises, and mentions how he almost felt like he was intruding on something. but he understands now, he doesn't clarify about what.

[emocheol]

taking pictures

finding out about your boyfriends sweet secret

contains: vernon x gn!reader, fluff, reader eating, established relationship

a/n: mostly based on vn telling sk that he looks at him more than he thinks, loosely based on taking pictures of you by the kooks (i just love that song)

“that’s going in the scrapbook,” vernon says casually, phone in hand as he shakes his head over a photo he just took.

his words snap you out of your one track demolishing-this-plate-of-food mind and you drop your fork with a groan. you try to reach over the table and snatch his phone while simultaneously using your other hand to wipe your mouth to prevent embarrassing yourself any further.

“you better delete that!” you threatened, though vernon didn’t take it as a threat as he continued to laugh and shake his head.

“give the phone to me right now!” you tried to sound intimidating and it only made him laugh even harder.

“babe, you look so good! so in love… with that plate of food,” he teases, clearing his throat as he looks at the picture again, “like damn you’re tearing that shit up,” he continues, knowing how to tease you just the right amount.

“hansol vernon chwe, delete that picture now!” you muster your best ‘i’m upset with you voice’, though you can’t seem to make it too hard hitting since you find it endearing when he laughs so much over something.

he slipped his phone into his back pocket and gave an exaggerated gasp, “my full name? low blow, babe,” he said, feigning disappointment.

“how come you only take embarrassing pictures of me?” you sighed, going back to eating as you knew you wouldn’t be able to snatch his phone now.

“not true, i have a whole album of the prettiest photos of you,” he said casually, as if it was common knowledge.

you looked at him with a raised eyebrow, not believing him for a second since you only ever caught him taking, what you thought were, horrible pictures of you.

“show it to me,” you motioned, holding your palm out for his phone.

he shrugged at this and dropped his phone in your hand after he opened his photos and clicked on the album titled ‘mine’.

“don’t delete anything, please,” he said in complete seriousness, those really were his favorite pictures of you.

you nodded in agreement, you wanted to see this alleged album more than anything so you wouldn’t be taking any chances at him snatching the phone back.

you took his phone and saw that the album had over 500 photos of you in it. some posed, some where you’re looking at the camera, some where you’re smiling at the person behind the camera, but most were completely candid.

most pictures in that album you had no knowledge of. you had no idea that he took so many photos, especially photos of you.

“when do you even take these? i never notice you taking photos of me like this,” you said slowly, scrolling through the photos.

“c’mon, babe, i look at you more often than you think. you’re so beautiful i have to take a picture to savor the memory,” he said casually, as if it wasn’t the most romantic thing you’d heard. and he decided to drop that information on you at a random fast food lunch stop.

you looked at him and jutted your lip out, your eyes slowly getting glassy.

“don’t you dare cry on me,” he said quickly, knowing the signs all too well, “there’s nothing to cry about.”

“i won’t,” you sniffled, your lip still quivering.

you both paused for a second before he spoke up again.

“yeah you will,” he stated, a slow nod of acceptance.

“yeah i will,” you echoed with a nod, standing up from your seat and sitting down next to vernon instead of across from him.

you loosely hugged your arms around his midsection while you fought tears. while he had no idea what was going on, he held you with a look of confusion on his face, wondering if the photos really upset you that much.

“it’s just some photos, baby, you want me to delete them? i will if it upsets you.” he said quickly, wanting to do everything he could to make you feel better.

“these are tears of happiness, nonie, that’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done,” you said, resting your head on his shoulder as you dabbed your few tears with a napkin.

now he looked at you with a raised eyebrow and rubbed your shoulder. “really? i just took some pictures…” he said slowly, trying to understand where you were coming from.

he didn’t get why it was so sweet because it was natural for him. why wouldn’t he take pictures of his favorite person? why wouldn’t he want to cherish your memories together and your beauty?

you knew you couldn’t explain it so you settled on telling him how much you loved him over and over again. that was until he had to grab your, now forgotten, plate of food and make you eat it so you’d stop professing your love to him in the middle of a fast food restaurant.

vernon was a quiet lover, but his quiet love spoke loud volumes.

[argisthebulwark]

Do I Have Your Attention?

summary: calling your partner by their real name instead of a pet name. gn reader, no pronouns or y/n used feat: Vilkas, Farkas, Brynjolf, Miraak, Erandur, Cicero, Teldryn warnings: joke abt murder in Miraak's lol. masterlist

Vilkas knows you're trying to get under his skin and hates how effective it is. Despite all his grumbling he's grown to enjoy the sweet little names only you're allowed to call him. There's nothing wrong with his name, of course - but it doesn't summon that fuzzy feeling all your terms of endearment do. "Vilkas?" You call again, clearly trying to get his attention. He grits his teeth and pointedly ignores you. Tidying his desk has suddenly become very interesting. "Sweetheart?" "Hm?" He finally grunts, feigning nonchalance despite the color in his cheeks. "Oh, now you can hear me." He ignores how smug you sound, continuing to shuffle through paperwork. "How interesting."

Farkas doesn't like that. "What? No baby? No honey? Did I do something wrong?" He drops the rag, half polished armor entirely forgotten as he turns toward you. "No, I'm not upset with you." You clarify, quelling his nerves. "Why so formal?" Farkas adores the sweet things you say to him - calling him your honey, your dearest, any reminder that he is yours. "Sorry, my love." You crack a smile when he reaches for you, grabbing your hand. "Didn't mean to worry you." "I'm sure you'll find a way to make it up to me." He sighs, doing a terrible job at hiding how much he enjoys all of your attention.

Brynjolf knows you're trying to bother him. He's seen that mischievous look in your eye before and weighs his options - what will be more fun? He could play into your little game and pretend to be upset by the lack of affection, or he could turn it around. The way he says your name is aloof, almost cold. He watches your eye twitch and your grin falter. It's terribly hard to stifle a laugh when you clear your throat and struggle to continue the conversation. Oh, he knows he's gotten under your skin. Brynjolf listens to your request for proper recruit assignments and agrees, biding his time before taking it one step further. When your annoyance begins to wane he begins calling you by your last name, thrilled at the color your face turns. "Bryn, what are you doing?" "Not so funny now, is it? Guild Master?"

Miraak swears that he will kill you both if you don't knock it off. He threatens to burn your entire village to the ground if you don't cease whatever prank you've decided to play on him. In front of others, he will stomach your cold detachment - calling him by his name or title in front of those damned Greybeards. He knows a thing or two about manners, after all. But in the privacy of your bedroom, he is your love. He is the one who relishes in all those silly terms of endearment only you are permitted to use. He stews over your laughter, refusing to give in even when your lips press to his skin. "You are not funny." He grumbles, though he does lean closer for more of your touch. "Perhaps this is what was prophesized - you will be the death of me after all."

Erandur worries that he's done something wrong. He thinks over your day, struggling to pinpoint what social blunder he could have made. He knows that he isn't completely up to date on modern social courtesies but you do not physically appear upset. "I'm sorry, my beloved." He offers, praying that you will educate him. "For what?" "For whatever I've done to upset you. Please tell me so that it can be made right." When you explain that it's a prank, a joke intended to gauge his reaction, Erandur smiles sheepishly and tucks away that information for later. He kisses your forehead, grateful that you are not upset with him.

Cicero is not a fan of that. His brows furrow, trying to figure you out. You only use his name when you call him your silly Cicero, your pretty Cicero... never just his name. His head tilts when he notes the pink in your cheeks and the attentive way you're watching him. "Listener." He ventures, eyes narrowing. "Are you pranking your Keeper?" "I am." "Oh!" Cicero's hands clap when he revels in your laugh. "Silly Listener, you are quite funny." "Not as funny as you, my love." He grins at the kiss you press to his cheek, absolutely giddy at your approval.

Teldryn is a bit taken aback - you've called him Tel for years. And now you're dropping his full name out of the blue? You've never been one for overly sweet terms of endearment but he likes the shortened version of his name you use. He removes his helmet and peers over, trying to figure you out. "What did I do to deserve this treatment?" "What treatment?" "The full government name." He's relieved when a laugh bursts out of you, pausing your trek to slap a hand on his shoulder. "Oh, Tel. You're too funny." He wants to chastise you, but the little pet name and the way you draw near to him is fairly distracting. "It was just a little prank." "A prank?" He snorts, indulging in a short kiss to your forehead. "You have too much time on your hands."

[moonbaby26]

Title: The Gift

*Crossposted to AO3 Here*

Pairings: Doflamingo x Reader, Doflamingo x Viola/Violet (mentioned)

Warnings/Notes: My belated Doffy birthday oneshot 😅! Reader is female coded, but no explicit gender/pronouns are referenced (unless I missed one). Language. Age difference. Dubious consent. Male ejaculation, and some actual fluff this time?

Synopsis: Being such a vain and self-centric man, one would expect elaborate public birthday celebrations for Dressrosa’s king. But as the newest member of Doflamingo’s crew, you’re surprised to find that this isn’t the case. And you don’t think that’s right. So you resolve to give him a very personal gift anyway, to quite unforeseen (at least to you) results.

Fic Masterlist

———————————

Doflamingo didn’t celebrate his birthday any longer.

This tidbit of information about your new master was dropped so casually one afternoon as you and Baby 5 worked together to clean blood and viscera off of the stonework. 

The two of you were together in some dark room the Donquixote captain didn’t want the normal palace maids to venture into. A special interrogation space you now dumped another bucket of soapy water over.

It wasn’t your place to ask any questions though. You had only lived in Dressrosa for the last six months. 

You were the payment Doflamingo had taken when your previous owner couldn’t cough up enough for a weapons debt in time.

Yes, your last master had likely ended up in a room much like this one. Because you’d never seen that abusive old man ever again. 

But you were a logia user. And that qualification had seemed good enough for Doflamingo to allow you this new chance within his own ranks instead.

So you did not complain. And you did not step out of line. You only followed orders just as faithfully as all these pirates that had lived with him years before you had. 

But you still wondered.

You wondered why it bothered you that no one was supposed to acknowledge the day their leader had been born.

The one day that should really be his.

You were still so skeptical of this, that you even paid more attention to the goings on in town over the next week. Looking for any hint of even the most subtle celebration plans or decorations for the people’s king.

But there were none.

And within the palace, Giolla was who you most often were assigned to and shadowed. When you realized even she showed no interest in making artwork for the king’s upcoming cumpleaños as they called it here, that was when you finally knew they must be serious.

His birthday had been removed from all outward recognition, both within his own kingdom and private “family”.

It was such an odd notion, for how extravagant of a man Doflamingo seemed to be.

But you supposed you didn’t really know him either. In the entire six months you’d lived within his home, you didn’t think you’d had more than a few words directed at you from his grinning lips. And they had only ever been emotionless commands.

Ones you dutifully followed.

And you were okay with this arrangement. Because you had been purchased fairly. Your life preserved in exchange for being little more than a warm blooded machine. Simply another tool among all his others.

Yet you still kept thinking about him and this erasure of his birth. It felt so wrong to you.

Somehow even more wrong than the toys you sometimes heard crying in the underground port after midnight, or the blood you and Baby 5 cleaned up again and again from those equally hidden dungeons.

You lay awake in your room for hours actually, on the night before his birthday, until an idea finally came to you.

You had a need to do something about your feelings. You were very thankful to have a roof over your head after all. You were thankful to have a reliable supply of food, and you were thankful to be in the aura of this warlord’s protection in the violent New World.

It was a compulsion by that point really, to repay him in even some small way.

So you sat up in your bed and got to work then and there, inspired just the way you supposed Giolla always spoke of being. 

Your hands hardened as you summoned your power, yet also becoming fully transparent all at once while your fingers still moved nimbly.

You were a human made of glass.

Clear and flawless as your creation began to ebb from your own fingertips.

You could shape and alter it as easily as if it were molten. But you didn’t need heat to do this. Everything was still a part of you as you shaped one flower petal after another.

It became a large rose in full bloom. No stem, but the base of the flower was as wide as both of your palms put together soon enough. The candlelight’s glow in your room played through those rippling surfaces, casting prismatic reflections in every direction as you smiled.

But it still wasn’t special enough then. It wasn’t personal enough as you felt it needed a second element. 

Which wasn’t easy. It took you multiple attempts actually as you tried to shape a bird nestled within this blooming rose. 

A flamingo of course. But the neck was so slender, it kept drooping before you could harden it properly. And if you made it too hard, you were afraid it would hold tension and fracture before long.

So you compromised.

You let that flamingo rest its head, smoothing it with your still clear fingertips as you curved the neck down for the bird to lay its beak against its wing.

As if it were asleep. An elegant flamingo, content and peaceful in the bloom of a rose. The final glass was pristine in its clarity of course, with all the facets you’d created catching the light in such a way that it fully sparkled while you cupped it in your hands with admiration.

You loved it.

And the next day when you went into Doflamingo’s empty office as part of your regular task of filing his completed contracts for him, you left this gift on his desk while you took that stack of paperwork in exchange.

Yet you put no note with your gift. You didn’t even leave it in the center of his desk like a focal point, as you would never be that brazen or prideful.

No, you simply left it to the side. It could be little more than an ornate paper weight for all it mattered. He could discard it if he chose to.

And that would be alright. A gift was the receiver’s to do with as they wished after all.

But at least you now knew he would have a present. He would not be ignored on his own day.

And that thought made you very happy.

But hours passed easily within his palace. Neither Giolla, nor Trebol had any further special instructions for you that day. So by the time the sun had set again, you were alone once more in your bed.

Reading by candlelight as you often did. The palace library was available to any of the Donquixote crew, and its contents occupied you well in any downtime you found.

The story for tonight was interesting too, but not so different than those you’d read before. Just another handsome protagonist, and his rather oblivious lover to be.

It was quite predictable, but still enough to make you giggle once the two characters finally found themselves alone.

You knew exactly where this was going.

And you had been turning those pages just a bit faster in that anticipation before your small transponder snail suddenly awakened to startle you.

Of course you still answered immediately, expecting a late night order. Perhaps a request to join your fellow lower ranks in the underground harbor. Sometimes the pirates there got rowdy, trying to back out of prior agreements. But you were much less destructive than Trebol when restraining them.

“Yes?” You had answered in your calm way, ready for almost anything.

“Come to my office. Now.”

Anything but that as the young master’s impatient tone filled your ears instead.

“Yes, sir.” You said anyway.

The snail clicked, disconnecting from his side first as you dropped your book and practically leapt from the bed.

No one kept Doflamingo waiting.

So much so that you didn’t bother with shoes, or even changing.

You were barefoot, just in a nightgown that fluttered to your knees as you pulled a jacket on over it and hurried out and down the hall.

Your master’s office was on a higher floor. Always like ascending to where you would never truly belong as your feet took the staircase two steps at a time.

But there was no one else in the dark palace corridors. Nothing to speak of panic or a rallying of the troops at all to protect the island.

Yet as you pulled down on the golden door handles to open those carved double doors that led to his workspace, you had still expected to see more of the Donquixote crew.

Never once had you been here alone with him.

Until tonight.

“Close the doors.” He ordered.

And you still did so with no hesitation, then walking towards Doflamingo’s desk with your hands clasped subserviently in front of you below your waist.

You didn’t even ask for an explanation. You simply looked at him, awaiting further instruction.

But his large chair was pulled farther from his desk than normal. He was slouched back in it with his shirt fully open and oddly wrinkled.

One of his long legs was crossed over the other. But his foot was moving slightly, bouncing a little like letting out tension the rest of his body would not yet portray.

“Did you make this?” Doflamingo asked in such an odd tone, yet immediate and to the point as one of his fingers tapped the desk.

Your eyes finally broke away from him to look down at that glass rose you’d created with the flamingo still resting peacefully within the spread petals.

He had moved it dead center on his desk now.

“Yes, sir.” You answered simply, your voice still soft.

But that was when his posture changed.

“Why?” He asked you as he straightened up in his chair.

And you felt your hands tighten against one another. Yet, you were simple. You didn’t think ahead, or plan and strategize. Everything was only what it was and nothing more.

You always told the truth.

“I wanted to give you a gift. I’m thankful to be allowed to stay here, young master.”

And you saw his facial muscles contort slightly. 

Like he didn’t know what expression to make.

“But today? You chose today to do this…” He sounded strangely unsure. Irritated too, as only one of his large hands easily scooped up that glass artwork that had taken both your palms to carefully hold.

“Yes.” You again answered honestly. “I wanted you to have something even if we aren’t allowed to celebrate.”

His brow furrowed. But you did not see any bulging vein. He wasn’t fully angry, not yet. He didn’t seem to know what to do. 

And perhaps that was the root of this frustration.

“How old are you?” Doflamingo asked suddenly.

“Twenty.” 

He muttered a curse under his breath at this seemingly unpleasant answer. And you saw his leg shift, that movement of his foot getting a little faster.

“Well…hoy tengo cuarenta años. Es demasiado.” He finally told you in return, switching briefly to the native language of this island as he frowned. Like he couldn’t admit this number out loud, to you or himself otherwise.

And his fingers were still moving over your gift, tracing all those edges while he held it.

“I’ve waited hours today…wondering what to do about this.” He said again then. “I even brought Violet in here earlier to try and alleviate it...” And he gestured unabashedly at the messy state of his clothing that you had noticed on first arrival.

But only then as his arm moved did you see the smear of dark lipstick against his rib cage beneath that open shirt.

And that was the very first thing that finally brought a tinge of heat to your face.

“It’s…just a gift, young master.”

“It isn’t.” He corrected you so surely that you lowered your head like a scolded pup.

And you heard the resulting growl which came from that too.

“You’re too damn innocent.” He lamented. “And I’m twice your fucking age now.”

Said as if this was somehow all your fault.

His crossed legs shifted again too, like he was struggling with himself. “You don’t even have a man in town, do you? You just sit alone in your room all the time…doing what exactly?”

“I read.” You felt that coil of embarrassment in your stomach now rising to meet the heat still creeping downward from your face.

But he scoffed, a much crueler noise. “And think about me as you do? Clearly you must.” He held the glass rose up higher then, almost as if it were indisputable evidence in this sudden trial against you.

He was starting to sound genuinely angry now.

“I’m sorry, young master.” You tried.

“You can’t do these things and expect no consequence.” Doflamingo chided you harshly, as if you really were a fool.

A fool that he owned.

“Come here.” He commanded you in that renewed authority as he set your gift back to the center of his desk.

You followed the gesture of his fingers without question. He didn’t even have to use his strings as you walked around his desk to stand before his chair.

“You can’t show me affection and think nothing would come of it…” He warned only briefly. 

And it felt too dangerous to try and apologize further. You were silent as your eyes watched only those red lenses of his sunglasses. 

You did know enough not to dare look away from him now.

“I’m not going to fuck you. But you are going to let me get this feeling out.” He said darkly. “So just be quiet and we’ll be done soon enough. Then you can go back to your paper fantasies instead.”

There was not even an implication of wanting your permission in his mocking words either. He was telling you what was about to happen just before those long legs abruptly uncrossed and you were pulled between them.

And you still gasped as the clothed erection he’d been hiding this entire time now pressed up hard against your bottom in his lap.

He didn’t even give you time to process. He was already thrusting that sharp bulge against your nightgown within moments.

His large hands fisted within that same thin fabric beneath your jacket as he groaned quietly.

You felt him inhale deeply next, taking in your scent as he curved his spine enough to lean down into your smaller frame.

It was like being encapsulated, a monstrous snake constricting itself around a small prey when the smallest flick of wet met the side of your face simultaneously.

Just the very tip of his tongue, only a tiny taste of you before before those large hands tightened on your hips.

Doflamingo pulled you harder against his own, bruising your skin beneath your clothes you were sure while his pace quickened even further.

“You smell so good.” He practically hissed against you. “You’re so soft too…”

His long fingers easily squeezed into your thighs as well, even as he didn’t release your hips.

And you must still be in some sort of shock really. Because somehow you didn’t feel afraid. 

You just let him do it. 

It was his birthday. He was your master.

And you were what he wanted, in this moment at least.

He never lifted your nightgown though. He never opened his pants.

But you could feel his body heat, and his desperation. A shame that outweighed any you should have had.

It was his loneliness. It was his need.

And it was mercy towards you.

Your master was giving you his rarest gift in return.

He could have taken your virginity here and now. He could have shattered you with his haki on only a whim, logia user or not.

Doflamingo was fully in control of you, and honestly just enough in control of himself that he did not truly harm you.

His breath only quickened as time seemed to draw to a standstill for you. It felt both like forever, and not long enough at all.

And still you didn’t feel wronged. 

The humiliation was only his instead, whenever you finally felt him stiffen further, grunting before he shuddered and that new heat blossomed against the underside of your thighs.

You were still sitting tightly on his bulge, and the wetness of his release wicked through those meager layers of fabric so easily.

He’d fully cum on himself within his pants. The king of Dressrosa had done this in a private moment with you, then hugging his arms around your waist as he rested briefly, recovering from that surprisingly heavy orgasm.

“Happy birthday to me…” Doflamingo chuckled despite himself, still sounding a bit overwhelmed in this instance while he gradually came down.

“Happy birthday, young master.” You answered tentatively, almost in a whisper.

But he allowed it now. He even squeezed you a little more. And it didn’t feel fully sexual then. He wanted something to hold onto.

He wanted comfort.

“Thank you.” The Heavenly Demon said to you, the young one who was surely only another of his many pets.

But he meant it.

And maybe by his next cumpleaños he would be able to do more. Maybe by then you would be ready to be more than just the one he wanted both to consume and to hold tonight.

Maybe you’d been the oblivious lover to be all along. 

Regardless, whatever happened now, you wouldn’t be laughing at those characters in the books any longer.

If you’d even be reading them much at all. Because you might have someone else needing all of your free time now.

Someone far more sensitive than he’d ever let on as he kept you in his lap while he reached for your artwork again, moving it back closer to the edge of the desk so it better caught the light from the small chandelier above.

You watched your master smile, his body relaxing fully before he bent down enough again to rest his chin on your shoulder.

This was just another flamingo, resting his head with his newest flower.

——————————

End.

Thank you for reading! 🎂🦩

[jenchan-writingmultis]

This was for the best, right? (Vil x Fem Reader)

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Genre: Heavy angst/ No comfort

Pairing: Vil x Fem Reader & One-sided Rook x Fem Reader

A/n: Hi! So do you guys recall the idea I had with Vil x Reader angst? So this is it! If you want to know about it first, I’ll link it (here) I hope you like this one, I gave my best effort on this, hopefully, it fits Vil, I love him so much.

Credits: The design was made by me in Canva and the art that was used is all from the Official Twisted Wonderland Cards. The line breakers are from Kaomoji dividers!

Warning: This is ANGST NO COMFORT! Panic Attacks on Vil’s side, Breakups no reconciliation, misunderstanding and Insecure Vil, relapses of Trauma on Vil’s side, talking bad about Reader’s appearance, although vague it still is there.

!PROCEED WITH CAUTION! Masterlist

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Sypnosis: Your face got leaked throughout social media when you went to have a date with your boyfriend Vil. It made him hate his reputation; he would understand if people bashed him instead, after all, he wouldn't let those words affect him, he's more worried about you, you're not used to the media watching you, having you be seen with him by paparazzi. He kept thinking of ending things with you to protect you from the backlash. ⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

He is usually unbothered by the fact that he gains hate often, he plays villainous roles, having to only reach till halfway or even before the story’s conclusion. It was normal for people to threaten him just because his character did something horrible to the main character. At least he is aware of how well he performed in acting by how despised he was. However, what he wasn’t prepared for was you being the one gaining hate. 

People are hypocrites, they cuss him out and throw the worst insults they could think of towards him, and at the same time, they view him as a perfect human who deserves someone “better for him”. He didn’t expect that his selfishness would get in the way of his relationship with you just because he wants one normal date outside of school but when one of his paparazzi caught a picture of him with you out on a simple date in Pyroxene. The picture showed your face fully without any filters, those uncouth journalists milking his fame with their horrendous illegal articles; anything to gain a higher footing in their industry than anyone else.

When he found out about the article, you two were cuddling in Pomefiore in his bedroom. He had a separate, massive bedroom since he was the housewarden, watching the film that he was recently cast in. As usual, he was given the role of a villain, it was the same old same old, except this time, the villain won, and it was satisfying to see him reach the end. He didn’t tell you though, so while you lay your head on his shoulder, watching; complimenting his looks and joking about how you’d date him even if he was that crazy.

He loves your little antics, you’re the only one who had an odd mind falling for the roles he has. “You have a peculiar taste for characters sweetheart” He wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer while you giggled. 

“Funny how I’m dating you” You cuddled closer to him, what you said earned you a playful glare. He was about to tickle you as punishment, but his phone suddenly vibrated, showing the name of his manager, he went to kiss your forehead before he untangled himself off you; “Give me a second, I’ll take this call real quick” he informed you which you gave a nod, letting him out of the bedroom and to his bathroom. 

"What is it?"He examined himself in the mirror, fixing his hair while his manager spoke, "Vil, check what I sent you, it's a link." Vil glanced at his phone and clicked on the article, wondering what it was, he waited for a bit, and as soon as it finished loading his heart drops.

“Famous actor Vil Schoenheit caught dating!” It was a stupid title, but he didn’t give any thought about It, fearing for the worst he scrolled further, finding your face unblurred on it. “What is the meaning of this?” he frowned, gripping his phone before his manager answered. 

“I’m not sure how they found out about the café you and your lover frequent but I’m trying to track down the owner of the article and threaten them with a lawsuit, but with how the media eats up everything, I’m afraid the damage has been done” Vil could hear rustling from the other end his manager taking out which he thinks is paperwork, most likely about the process of lawsuit, he was growing restless as he looked at how many comments and likes did the article gain. He didn’t even notice that his Magicam was being blown up by “fans” questioning him for his taste, and criticizing you. 

He was starting to feel chills around his body when he continued to investigate the whole thing, Vil was close to having a panic attack, gripping the edge of the sink. He tried to calm himself down, remembering what his father taught him. 

“Deep breath in, deep breath out” he recalled, causing him to loosen his grip a bit and relax. A knock on his door snapped him out of his thoughts when he faintly hears you from outside. 

“Vil? Are you okay? You’re taking a while there” you asked which he straightened himself up, composing himself before looking at his phone, who still had his manager on call. “I’ll have you deal with this; I need to go.” He walked to the door opening it after his manager agreed and ended the call.

“Sorry, it was just a minor nuisance at work” He smiled at you, he was a good actor but when it comes to you sometimes, he can’t seem to lie. “Are you sure? You sounded pretty agitated when I went to check on you” You touched his hand, entangling your fingers with his, which made him sigh. 

“it’s…” he hesitated for a moment; does he tell you? He can’t drag you into all of this, he was planning to have it stay hidden till the article was gone, but at the same time, you’re bound to know about it once your friends find out and question you about it.

“Can we talk?” He finally caved in, gazing at you with a mixture of worry in his eyes; how could you say no to that? 

When you found out about the article, Vil was worried that you’d be upset at him, not once did your expression change when he was explaining it. He didn’t expect you to smile and kiss his cheek, telling him that “it’s okay, the media will die down on it, at least if they found out, they won’t bat an eye if we go on dates more publicly, right?” you told him.

He was amazed with how well you handled the news; what about the possibility of receiving backlash? No, actually you both were receiving backlash already. “You’ll have to stop using social media for a while and deactivate it just to be safe” he warned you, looking at you for any signs of distress, he was concerned that you were just hiding it, you’re not someone who’s made to handle the eyes of strangers, he thinks you might not even understand what it means to have your face be doxed by media. 

"Darling," he said, enveloping you in his embrace, which you gladly returned. He said, "Listen, this is the media we're talking about," stepping back to look directly into your eyes. You'll be receiving insults left and right, and I worry that if your friends choose to drop you because of our reputation, it will negatively impact you. I'm capable of managing myself and safeguarding you from the public eye, but what if this also concerns your friends?" he knew that the possibility of your close friends dropping you for something trivial like this was unlikely to happen but there’s still a possibility. 

“If they drop me for something so stupid, I guess they don’t deserve to be my friend,” you said firmly, “Vil, I don’t mind this," You replied firmly, "but it seems like you’re bothered by it” You pointed out, touching his face, it was true, he is bothered by it, he’s scared of the outcome, he’s afraid that every day when you go out in public, people will try to hurt you or coerce you into doing something you don’t like.

“Once the article is down, it’ll fizzle out” You comforted him, noticing that his breathing started getting a bit ragged. Was it really going to stop once that article was taken down? There might be people who saved that article and reposted it. 

In the next few days, you two would often just stay within school grounds, Night Raven College is big enough for you two to roam around and have your usual dates; Despite his frequent work schedule and dormitory maintenance, he still made time to have meals with you. During those times, everyone seemed to keep testing his patience, when he was on set, his unprofessional coworkers kept festering him about you, and when outside, he felt restricted, not being able to walk freely without eyes catching him, so he was advised by his manager to use his car to go back to school and work. He kept his social media muted as well; he couldn’t scroll around Magicam cause every article in those past few days has been nothing but hatred towards you.

“That woman looks so average, what the hell did Vil see in her?”

“Honestly, I would even accept if he’s gay for Neige, whenever those two are together they look so cute!”

“She looks like an extra://” 

Comment after comment of users trashing your looks, your whole being even without knowing you.

It angers him, so for the sake of his mental health and yours, he made sure that you also kept your social media muted, although often, he saw you scrolling on it, reading the comments, or just chatting with your friends. 

He doesn’t understand why you do it, it frustrates him a bit when you do, but he couldn’t tell you to just delete social media entirely, he’s not toxic.  

During lunchtime, he was late to meet you, rushing through the cafeteria, he found you with Deuce and Ace, chatting away. He was going to greet you till he heard what Ace said.

“Hey, aren’t you gonna stop this act?” he munched on his egg sandwich while Deuce looked at Ace like he had just grown a second head. 

“What the hell are you talking about Ace” Deuce said before Ace glared back at him. “I mean! Being unbothered by whatever nonsense Magicam’s got on. You have your face everywhere and people are talking smack about it!” He pointed out in which, Vil couldn’t even see what your expression was right now. "If I were you, I’d confront him about why his agency hasn't gotten to the bottom of this." Deuce wanted to hit Ace that time, but it was true, both your friends were confused as to why it continued to circulate. 

“You don’t have to listen to Ace” Deuce paused, not knowing where this could possibly lead to what he meant. “It’s okay, I understand the concern.” You voiced out, placing the fork down, fiddling with your fingers, “It does affect me, but It’s not Vil’s fault that It got way out of hand.” 

Vil frowned, hearing that, so it did affect you, why didn’t you tell him? Was it because of his incompetence? He thought about how many times you told him that it was okay, that you didn’t mind it. He knew that the article was stupid, but the evidence was evidence to journalists, and that caused you to be in the middle of the crossfire between him and his “fans”. 

Was it worth sacrificing your peace dating him? He smiled bitterly to himself, how stupid of him to have these kinds of thoughts. He looked at his phone, he was going to send you a message that he was in the cafeteria but decided to go against it. 

“I don’t think I can make it. You can go eat.” He sent the message before leaving the cafeteria and going back to the dormitory, he needed some time for himself. 

When he reached his living quarters, he sat down on his bed, noticing the way the curtains were covering any light coming inside. It was like the state of his mind currently, he didn’t feel like doing his daily routine today, which is funny, if he didn’t push himself to keep a perfect image, he would be nothing but average; but if he did look average, would that give both of you the pleasure of living a normal life? 

He scoffed to himself, he can’t just throw his career away, he needs it for your future; both your futures, he stood up, grabbing all the necessary cream, face powder, and other stuff for his face, but the moment he saw himself, looking tired, he stiffened up. Will there be a future where the two of you would be together?

Vil didn’t realize that he started to avoid you. His bedroom was inaccessible, you would knock on his door, but he wouldn’t confront you. Staying silent and just waiting till the knocking subsided and you were out. 

He still showed up to needed House warden meetings, or event planning, he did his duties as usual, he just didn’t do his duties being your boyfriend. 

It was as if his insecurities when he was younger were relapsing whenever he thought of talking with you, was it okay to talk to you right now? He still thinks it’s not the right timing. He isn’t his usual self right now and he doesn’t want to risk doing anything bad. 

However, it breaks his heart to see the sorrow in your eyes when you meet him and to see him neglect you. He was aware that the distance between you and his unwillingness to communicate about the situation was making your relationship unstable. 

After three days of no contact, he was on top of Pomefiore’s garden, he missed you dearly, he gazed down to see his dormmates having tea under the recently renovated garden, then he noticed someone familiar within the garden, focusing his eyes on it, it was you! You looked… happy? 

That was the smile that you usually only reserve for him, what’s going on? Vil thought to himself, confused as he ripped his eyes off you, only to notice Rook Hunt, touching you the way you would with a lover, giving you a gaze he never saw from Rook, but he knew what that was.

Rook liked you, both of them did, but he decided to step down in favor of letting Vil court you. He knew that feelings would never fade that easily but he didn't expect to see this sight. You two looked so perfect for each other, his hand touching yours as if you were having the time of your life, even without him. He clawed the railing of the balcony, not feeling his fingernails scrape the paint off of it, his eyes blurring as he walked away, fearing that he might fall if he ever passed out. His heartbeats were the only sound he could hear, aside from the static his ears were hearing. 

“Breathe.” 

He fell back into his bedroom, feeling his whole body shiver as he grips on his arm, numb to the pain that his nails were digging into his flesh. Cold sweat trickled down his face, he didn’t know if he was even breathing or not, his brain foggy, like an impending doom was going to happen if he once tried to “breathe.”

Vil ended up passing out, and unfortunately, the moment he woke up, it was already 5 am, he jolted awake, standing up, hearing a continuous knock from his door, He flinched as his head throbbed, touching it gently to try to ease his headache, he moved to the door, opening it, not expecting to see the person he least wants to see.

“Roi de Poison” Rook greets him, smiling brightly at him, Irritating. “I noticed you haven’t gotten up and gone to work yet, did you take a sick leave?” Rook continued, his voice filled with worry, he was about to fix the hair covering Vil’s face when he got his hand slapped away, startling him, he noticed the way Vil’s eyes darkened a bit.

“I’m fine” Vil affirmed, groaning a bit, he pinched the bridge of his nose as another headache hit his head again. “I’ll get ready, for the meantime, please take care of the dorm in my absence” He continued, replying curtly as he slammed the door shut before Rook could even say anything, He was sure that Rook would do as he says, if he didn’t, he’ll find a new vice housewarden. 

Vil was already late for work, his disheveled look was barely noticeable but his manager noticed the slight imperfection in it. She walked up to him, fixing the sleeves of his outfit. “You’re late Mr. Schoenheit” She buttoned the sleeves, waiting for a response from Vil, who just sighed, “I apologize, something came up, can we start?”

You were getting worried, Rook went to your dorm, telling you about the state of Vil and that he was worse for wear, you decided that this time, you were going to visit and you were going to talk to him even if he didn't want to. It’s been dragging on for too long—the avoidance of your lover and the media is hurting you. You need to do something before your relationship reaches a breaking point.

When you arrived at the modeling agency where Vil works, you were graciously allowed in. You were familiar to those at the agency; some supported you, while others did not. However, the only support you needed was Vil's.

The moment you stepped inside the photoshoot, you saw Vil, working with another model, he looked gorgeous as always, although it seemed that he was tired; it was unusual for him to be in a state where it was obvious.

The manager noticed you before she ushered you further in, just to get nearer where Vil could see you, and Vil froze, stopping the shooting when he saw your face. 

“I’m going to take a break,” he said to the crew members, seeing you, his gaze remained unfazed, “Let’s talk on the lounge” he murmured, walking past you.

You didn’t know what else to do but follow him, understanding that Vil wasn’t feeling well. The moment the two of you were alone, he went to give you apple juice, the one that Epel’s family sells, you give a gentle smile to him, but he didn’t reciprocate. It made your heart ache. 

“What do you need?” he asked, sitting down on the opposite side of you. Reluctant to look at him, you fixed your gaze on the apple juice. “Are you feeling alright?” you asked, which made Vil chuckle, “That’s a funny question Y/n” 

“I just wanted to know, You’ve been avoiding me for a while and-“You were cut off by Vil who placed the half-empty apple juice on the table. “I just needed some time to think, plus we agreed to lay low” He answered, which frustrated you “Vil, I heard from Rook that you turned up late during work" you were feeling nervous, and for the first time, your lover made you uneasy. "that never happened before,” you said, wanting to touch his hand, but he pulled it away, his eyes showing a trace of betrayal.

“What?” he asked, heart breaking as he looked at you, “Rook told you?”

“Of course he did, he’s a close friend of yours!” you protested, feeling a sense of desperation when Vil kept rejecting you, for the past few weeks, or months? You don’t know, but it’s been so long since you two last saw each other and stared at each other for more than just a glance, now you’re on the receiving end of his glare?

“You…” Vil murmured, before he finally let his body relax, his expression turning soft. “I think we should break things off.”

“What?” you gasped, gripping on the apple juice a little bit too hard, “Vil- “

“Why?” 

Why? Vil wanted to answer why, there were plenty of reasons why, you two were just way too different, and the fact that if he pursued this relationship further, it’d hurt both of you more. It was clear that Rook liked you and you liked Rook, what is there to continue this relationship? Plus, the media will continue to see you as inferior, this will continue for a lifetime, and no matter what he can’t see why and how your relationship with him will continue without it getting toxic. He finally understood that he is way too much for you, his feelings would slowly wrap you around vines that contain poison, HIS poison. He was thinking of the future, and he can’t see it going beyond the challenges you two face. 

He eventually responded, "I lost interest, I’m sorry, we both should focus on our careers first” He lied, not looking at you as well, you both were too hurt to even gaze at each other. You didn’t move or talk, so he decided to stand up, fixing his attire and looking cold. “I’ll be leaving now, hopefully, we can put this all behind us, I’ll have a taxi be ready to get you home when you’re ready.” he said, his heart aching, he wanted to hold you, but he stopped himself, “Just talk to the manager when you plan to leave” he continued, turning around before leaving the lounge.  

The moment you left, the manager went up to him excitedly, he didn’t feel like celebrating at all when he found out that they tracked down who the journalist is and are now filing a lawsuit against them; at least on a positive note, you were out of the picture, out of the prying eyes of the media. 

This was for the best, he thought to himself, feeling numb while he felt his chest tighten when he went back to work.

Word Count: 3418

[natsuyuki-w]

Not one of the boys

Twisted wonderland cast realizes that (Yuu) is a girl.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 Featuring: Leona, Ruggie, and Jack - Leech twins - Azul

- (Wander)San? Where are you going? No running!- shouted Crewel. - Sorry! 'going to the bathroom! - I excused continuing my rush. - You better not skip PE pup.- - Don't worry professor, they will not. - reassured Ace. - What time is it... Damn it! I'm already late. - I entered the toilet with the gym bag.

---

A couple of hours later, period finished, I heard our Homeroom teacher from afar - (Wander)San? Again? No running! And where are you going in...- - To the bathroom! - - But...Make sure not to be lat...Never mind. - and after eying me a second time, he noticed I was still wearing the sports uniform.

- At least the professors, I'm not asking much right? - I mumbled angrily. - This stupid secrecy...I can't even take a decent shower after gym. - I grumbled some more in the empty bathroom, doing the little I could with the sponge and the water of the sink.

Uncle

- Uncle Leona was so cool at Magift! - Cheered the little intruder sitting on my lap. After the excitement of seeing his relative, since I was the only one giving him attention, he decided to crawl up the sheets and vent.

- Veeery cool! He was * pwah and then *shwah and then "GOOOAL... Wait...wrong sport. - I recalled the last match. - But do you know who's even cooler? - I smirked - The one who can Even defeat your uncle? - I dropped my voice down like telling him a mighty secret.

- Watch your tongue Herbivore - threaten the aforementioned. The kid giggled jumping up and down on my knees - Who is it? Who is it? - I cupped a hand to my mouth and waved him closer. - Is Cheka! - And I boopped his nose singing. - 'Cause, 🎶 you're gonna be the main event like no king was before. Brushing up on looking down, and working on your roar! 🎶-

- So loud - groaned the prince. - Hahahhaa yes!!! - The kid's strong cheers covered his lament - Have you heard Uncle Leona? Uncle (Yuu) says I'm the coolest!- Exclaimed the lion cub to the teenager lying in another cot.

- Pfha, She's not an uncle, and I don't care. - - He's right, I wouldn't Dare take the title from him...- *Pause - Wait, what have you just said? - - I don't care. - responded the boy -...are we really playing this game? Before that. - - You are not an uncle - and after another suspension added - an aunty perhaps. -

.... - EH????? - Death dropped everyone in the room. Some shocked by the new information, some from the fact that He knew about the secret. I quickly went to his side and bent to face the splatted prince. Cheka followed suit amused by my shocked face. - Wh-what are you talking ab...- but the smirk on his face told me I couldn't deny anything. - But,... How did you know???-

- W-wait, so (Yuu), you really...you really?...- floundered Jack. Deuce and Ace went beside him to pat his shoulders. - I didn't know either. - added Ruggie stepping away. - So, I was actually careful... - I mumbled referring to the astonished duo.

- Hahahhaa Uncle (Yuu) pick me up! - jumped the kid. Too stunned to realize the probable state crime accuse I could face, I hopped him on my hip. - Leona... How,...when?- - Entry ceremony. - - Eeeh? So soon... - - You threw the cape on the cat. That black shirt is fitting.- - B-but,... it was kinda dark.- - I can see well enough. - - But it could've been... a wrinkle of the clothes. -

- The morning after you snooped around our business I saw you two little detectives at the entrance and I eavesdropped. I needed to make sure you stayed in your place. - Then he smirked - Mmmm if I recall it was something about a stunning boy calling you a little lady and a crop top rather than an XXL t-shirt. - Jack was now redder than before, and Adeuce facing each other questioningly. - Phrasing...so misapprehended.- I pouted. Then he nodded towards me - And you smell girly. -

I rolled my eyes. - I may be hiding but I don't wanna smell like..."Refreshing", "Boss", "Sport" - I mumbled - Okay okay you got it right. Just... Please guys, the headmaster wants it to be a secret, something about management...school stuff. So keep it to yourself yeah?- - Just that?... Not telling me to treat you right? - asked the prince half joking. - Treat me...? It doesn't change anything, I'm still (Yuu). Treat me like always. - ... - Well I mean SOMETIMES you could be a little nicer with everyone...- but he quickly stopped me with a daring growl.

- Take your uncle good company Cheka - I whispered - Pour on him some more cute... I mean coolness. - he nodded and pounced on his uncle. - I can't believe Leona beat me at this too. - commented Grim realizing he wasn't the first to find out about my identity.

Squeeze

The audacity of this monster… 

- Oh… so it is like that ah? - I rose from the seat at the table. The calm tone in my voice was mismatched by a terrifying shadow behind my eyes. - I wouldn't dare embarrass the Great mage Grim. Since I'm a good-for-nothing human my help would be a nuisance.- I took a breath and pondered - After all you already made the wiser decision. Instead of accepting my, free, invitation to study together, you went straight to the smart student. - and I flicked the anemone on his head. - I'm sure with your sharp mind you'll be out of the situation in no time. - The trio gulped. Not even when they accidentally corroded my potion notebook they saw me that angry.

- Awww Koebi-chan, don't be upset. - chirped Floyd smiling. - Working him to the bone would be a good lesson teaching. What do you say, Prefect? - added Jade with malice, Grim shivered from head to toe. - You are so cute Shrimpy. Let me help you the best way I know...- and before either I or Jack could do anything he grabbed and pulled my arm towards him. -...a hug to squeeze all this anger away. - - NOOO!!!! - screamed Adeuce.

The strong hold on me soon came loose. My face was flat on his torso, I looked up and confusion was plastered all over his face. - I'll consider your kind offer guys. And thank you for the sentiment, Floyd. - sarcasm dripping from my every word. I slipped off his hold and walked out sending a wave to my friends, Jack in silence followed and threw a glare at everyone left behind.

---

The three got dragged away by the anemone while Floyd stood still with his arms held lightly out. Jade spoke up - I swore you were going to give your usual...- - Soft...- murmured the other. - Excuse me? - - I think I'll need another test. - snapped the hugger. - Azul wants us back to the lounge. - stopped him his brother while he aimed for our direction.

---

- So ahem. Do you still want to go? Do you want me to ruffle them up perhaps? - asked Jack after a good minute of silence. I sighed - Of course, I'll go, I don't want to let them down. - A minute passed and mortified by my reaction I excused myself - Sorry for that. I was so frustrated.- - Don't worry, honestly, I think he deserved much worse, I could tell you were very hurt, I'm sorry. - - don't be... But thank you, Jack, for everything! You are so kind, I'm really glad we became friends. - All his might crumbled in a blushing mess.

- S-so *ah-hem do you think he figured it out? The moray I mean. - - Probably.- I responded firmly.

---

- Azarashi-chan...- Floyd crept on the grey cat. - Can I squeeze out of you a couple of things about dear Shrimpy? - said with a toothy smile that Grim knew better to confront with anything but assent.

Debt

- Your voice could be useful, but I'm already in stock. - As we sat on the plush couches of Azul's study we discussed the possible contract to free my friends. Jade lowered himself to whisper in the dorm's leader's ear. - WHAT??? - his collected gentlemanly persona completely slipped for a second, making me and Jack jump on the spot.

Azul covered his mouth looking me up and down, blushing again, and whispered back - Is it certain? - and the twins nodded. - But I would gladly test again... Koeeebi-chan can I give you another squeeze? - I found the heterochromatic eyes bored closely into mine. Jack growled receiving a lopsided smile

- So... (Yuu)san - continued the "mafia boss". - I think you might be already in debt with us, fufufu. - - For what? - I arched my brow. - Well, it would be a shame after all your good work in concealing your true identity...- -...good work...*PFFF...ask the other eleven. - I laughed - And here I thought you did a little digging. - I mumbled - I owe you nothing. I don't care at all to hide that I'm a girl, I'm doing it because the headmaster asked me to. He's worried that it would cause him problems or something. Honestly, I would gladly stop wrapping my chest in cloth and wear ALL the time baggy clothes. They are cute, don't get me wrong, but I would like some flattery sometimes. - I rumbled.

Awkward from my brutal honesty, he adjusted his glasses to compose himself and asked diplomatically - You're not worried about the consequences with Crowley? - - About you finding out? Because Floyd forcefully grabbed me and felt my boobs? No, I'm not. - - You Found Out How??? - sharply asked the mage. Floyd shrugged. - Yeah, and it was very soft. Then I kindly asked Azarashi-chan and he confirmed. - An irk formed on my forehead, Grim was truly getting on my nerves.

Recomposing I pointed - However, you spreading this information is a willing choice. So... I dunno, aren't You worried about the consequences? - He smirked - Not at all, now I have something else against..eh*hem...to discuss with our dearest headmaster. - then sighed heavily -...perhaps this might not be useful for our predicament after all.- returned to his composed self. - L-let's return to our main topic. Shall we? -

I know their surname is Leech… but they are Moray and you can’t tell me otherwise.

[miam0re]

Aftercare(2) | Side Characters

Warning: Implied sex? Implied rough sex, overstimulation;

Pairing: Diavolo, Solomon, Simeon, Barbatos X Fem!Reader (separate)

Summary: How he takes care of you after he's fucked you nice and hard 

Mia’s Notes: Back to writing after months wow this feels good!! Also what title should I use for Obey Me characters who are not the demon brothers? Is Side Characters fine or...is there another word for them. Also for anyone wanting to know if I’ll write anything for Mephisto or Raphael...I don’t know them?? Like they probably show up much MUCH later in the story (or in some events) But I don’t have much information to work on. So right now...not gonna write for them.

Hope you like this mwah mwah

(ALSO not proofread....eheheheh)

You can find the Demon Brothers version on my blog!!

Diavolo is always trying his best to be gentle with you, treating you like his sweet little princess

But can’t help it if he gets pussy drunk on how tight and warm you are. Next thing you know, he’s pounding into you like a demon in heat. Wowzie

Insides and outsides both covered in cum, you’re quivering in his hold as he’s rocking you from side to side, calming your little sobs

He makes it a point to communicate with you, asking you what all you enjoyed, what you didn’t enjoy and what he could do to make you feel good (no, not only in the bedroom sense)

Tell him all the places it hurts and he’ll rub the pain away, making note to be careful of the position that made you ache so much 

Most of all, he loves to hear you tell him that he was good to you, and he will reciprocate your words, praising you with words from all three realms 

“My Queen, I will do everything to see that gorgeous smile on your face. I love you…so please tell me, how you want me to show it.”

A cheeky sorcerer always finds the best ways to put his spells to use, and Solomon thinks the bedroom to be the best place to…play around 

Sense depriving spells, spells that would have you cumming again and again, after effects of magic are sure to follow the bedroom activities 

Sub-drop is sure to happen when he overstimulates you with magic, but magic also happens to be a good cure for head ache and body pains 

You’re in his hold, head on his shoulder as he murmurs a foreign language in your ear, rousing you to fall asleep as magic tingles over your bruised skin, colouring them its original blush 

His fingers caress the curve of your spine, the drag of his magical fingers relieving the pains you felt 

More than that, his spell chanting sounds like a lullaby with the little kisses he’s sure to dot around your face and neck after every verse, making you sleepy…so sleepy…

Perhaps that is one of the spells he used ;)

“Time for you to rest, my Darling. Tonight has been quite fun. Oh? Asleep already? You didn’t even hear me say I love you.”

His touch is truly angelic. Nothing short of the most soulful and affectionate moments spent with Simeon worshiping your body for the night 

He doesn’t know it, but he makes a mess of your insides. Ah but he only notices the mess he’s made of you outside :p

With your head resting on his chest, listening to his rapid heartbeats, he busies himself with massaging your head and fixing your hair

He’s putting pressure on all the right spots on your scalp, blunt nails running through your hair making you sigh and hum in happiness

Your temples, the spot behind your ear, the nape of your neck- he’s giving all of it attention until you melt on top of him

His fingers curl in the tangled locks of your hair, combing your hair smooth and there’s something so oddly satisfying about having him separate your hair into parts and twist them into a braid 

When he’s done playing with your hair, he’s pressing multiple kisses to the top of your head and hugging your shoulders tight, squishing you closer to himself

“I love you, my Angel. Would you like me to massage your head some more? Anything to make you feel loved.”

His tail is slithering down your legs and by the way you moan in exhaustion, Barbatos realises that he may have overstimulated you a tad too much

Worry not, acts of service are this demon’s specialty and you are his top priority right now 

Once you’re all clean and robed in the silk blankets, thanks to him, he’s excusing himself to prepare something for you 

No later, in front of you is a tray with baked dessert and a tea blend from his private collection

While blowing the steaming liquid and holding the cup to your lips, he tell you that this tea will make you feel better and help with any form of fatigue, helping you take small sips while brushing your hair out of your eyes

And who can say no to desserts, especially when they’re being hand fed to you, your lips being lovingly wiped off crumbs after every bite, don’t mind him if he uses his lips for that a few time ;p

“Is it to your liking, my Lady? I love you quite a lot and wish for you to feel good, so please, don’t hold back and tell me what you want of me.”

[lazycats-stuff]

Batfamily x male!reader

Okay, part 1 of the Court of Owls reader is here. I enjoyed writing this so much, even though it's short.

Summary: The family wasn't going to allow (Y/N) to stay with the Court anymore. (Y/N), on the other hand, wasn't going to go down without a fight.

Warnings: (Y/N) moving to Metropolis, Harley and Pamela being protective, Harvey being protective.

(Y/N) opened his eyes. It was noon and he only got 5 hours of sleep. He was currently in Metropolis, in a small apartment he managed to rent out.

He told Harvey and others of his plans. He can't stay in Gotham at this point. He can't. The nights have become way too dangerous for him. Bruce knows this city and it's hideouts to well.

Harvey gave him a big duffel bag with money. He refused to say how much was in it. Harley and Pamela gave him a new combat knife and Selina gave him a burner phone.

The place he rented out was small, but enough for him. He paid for 2 months in advance, just in case. He always liked this city. It was calm and crime wasn't so spread out like in Gotham. And it's annoying that Metropolis people are wimps when it came to crimes.

Truly annoying. But... When you say with a resting bitch face, ' I'm from Gotham, ' they retreat really quickly.

(Y/N) had a routine here. The one he didn't think he would have. At nights, when he was supposed to be out, he would walk around Metropolis. The beauty is one of the things he liked about it. There was so much gorgeous things in this city.

Usually he would go to the parks and sit on the bench. Or he would just go to a small diner to get some coffee. There was one that served killer cheesecake, just around the corner to where he lived.

Wasn't he lucky?

While (Y/N) was in Metropolis, enjoying the peace and quiet, Bruce and the rest of the family was searching for him. They were getting angrier and angrier as the days passed by. Where is he?!

" Okay, when I see him, I will beat his ass. " Jason mumbled.

Damian didn't say anything. Where was his brother? He thought about it. (Y/N) always made some allies, wherever he was. So they need to find the allies.

" What are you thinking about? " Bruce asked his youngest.

" We need to look for allies. I'm sure he made them here. They will know where he went. "

" Why would he have allies? No offense, but you guys are loners. "

" Sometimes Todd you have to have people to trust. But always be prepared for betrayal. You never know. "

Bruce just sighed. Why (Y/N), why? Why are you doing this?

" I think the bigger problem is where to start, if we do chose to go by that theory. This city is a criminal hub. We need a starting point. " Tim stated, trying to figure out a plan.

" Masters, I think I have something. " Alfred interrupted the session.

" According to the GCPD records I went through right now, there was a person who visited Two Face. According to informants, there was some sort of bond between them. And the description matches (Y/N)'s. " Alfred said.

" Alfred, why were you going trough GCPD files? " Bruce asked the man, there were no open cases relating back to Two Face.

" I heard about the master Damian's theory and who are better allies then Gotham rouges? "

The vigilantes stood quiet at Alfred's statement. There was their starting point. Bruce was going to relinquish his title and give it to Alfred.

" Okay, thank you Alfred. Come on, lets go talk to Harvey. " Bruce said. Time to find his son.

(Y/N) sighed as he laid in the bed. He couldn't sleep, but he also couldn't go out. He simply didn't want to. He was too tired. He would have gone and bought some furniture, but then again, if he needs to run again...

He clicked his tongue in annoyance. He looked at the burner phone that started ringing. He looked at the number displayed on the screen. It was Harvey. (Y/N) allowed himself to smile. He accepted the call and put the phone next to his ear.

" Hey Harvey. "

" Hello son. "

(Y/N) eyes widened and he nearly dropped the phone in the process. This is not Harvey's voice. It was Bruce's. How?

" Speechless? So was I when I heard about your bond with these rouges. Harvey is apparently your father figure. Did you really forget about me and your brother? "

" You and Damian can go to hell. I'm not going back with you. "

Bruce just hummed into the phone.

" Do you really think so? Do you think I'm going to allow you to destroy yourself even more by staying with them and the Court? No... I know you are in Metropolis and we are coming to get you. I have to be honest, he refused to talk about you. See you soon son. "

(Y/N) dropped the phone and immediately stood up. Oh no. Shit. Okay. He looked for his knife. There. Now a gun he bought. He checked the magazine to see if he had ammo in it. And it was a nervous tick of his.

He tucked the gun in, hiding it beneath his jacket. He looked at the phone and left it there.

No time. Nope.

He quickly ran out of the apartment, going downstairs quickly. He put the hood on, making sure to cover his face. He has enough money to go somewhere far from here.

He can make it. He just needs to stay calm. He took a shortcut through the alley, but a certain figure stopped him.

" Robin. " (Y/N) said, just putting his hand on the gun.

" Hello brother. "

(Y/N) ducked a punch before grabbing him and slamming him into the wall. Then he climbed up the fire escape up to the roof. He checked the hook strapped to his wrist. He used it to swing on the next roof. If only he noticed Jason coming from the side. They fell down from the air onto the roof.

(Y/N) rolled with Jason, ending up in the position where Jason straddled him.

" Alright, time to wrap this up. "

(Y/N) wasn't having it. He wrapped his hands around his neck. He forced Jason back with that and punched him. He ran across the roof and jumped once more. Now he saw Red Robin and Nightwing. He slid down, making them crash into one another. He jumped down into an another alleyway.

He froze when he Batman landed in front of him.

" No... " (Y/N) whispered. There was no way out.

" I don't want to hurt you son. Why are you running from us? "

(Y/N) felt his breath hitching. Was he going to have a panic attack?

" Now, you can come peacefully. Or I can bring you back forcefully. The choice is yours. "

(Y/N) can't go back. He didn't have to turn to know that Robin was behind him.

Well, he won't go down without a fight. He took his knife and threw it a Bruce. Damian brought him into a headlock, making sure that he wouldn't be able to move. Then he felt a prick at the side of his neck. It was a sedative.

(Y/N)'s eyes were closing, his body dropping down. Damian still held onto him, refusing to let him fall. Bruce gently scooped (Y/N) up in his arms.

Time to bring him home.

[screamingcrows]

Settling in - Dottore x Reader

Note: This is also meant for my so far unknown to everyone OC, this scenario fits x reader format. Same reader as Tomorrow, but about a year prior. I feel insane for this. Keep this out of character ai bots or you're getting Demodex folliculorum 1k words

Tags: fem reader, reader from Fontaine, they're practically strangers, awkward, almost forgot implied later murder

MINORS, AGELESS, BLANK BLOGS DNI

It was rare that foreigners voluntarily joined the Fatui. Save for a background check conducted by people from The House, not much was done to discourage such an act. They had room for those who would serve their cause, and turning any prospective asset away was a mistake they would never make.

However… It was quite rare for someone to have such concise demands, and even less hesitation in presenting them.

Dottore glanced to the side, crimson eyes readily observing the figure moving along the shadows of his laboratory. It was frustrating, having to wear the mask in his sanctuary. Perhaps with time-

He was getting ahead of himself.

You'd wasted no time making yourself useful, clearly driven by something none of the recruiters had managed to discern. Introductions had been brief and you'd barely spoken a word since then.

He let out a small sigh, focus shifting back to the metal casing in his hand. Several elemental crystals were scattered atop the table. If only you'd stop clinging to the edges, he had enough concerns without shadows in his periphery.

At first it had been pleasant, his days mostly the same as before your arrival. After a fortnight it had begun nagging at his mind. You'd told him your name, previous occupation, and a vague reason for wanting to join. Nothing he hadn't already been informed of before you'd even stepped foot in his wing.

'Sensible' was the only word that came to mind, your presence anonymous enough that it didn't grate at his tightly strung nerves.

Shattering glass brought him out of his speculations, instinct dictating he examine his own workbench. With nothing remiss he turns to your corner, eyes briefly narrowing in frustration when he sees you wiping something up.

You hadn't even acknowledged the space he'd made one of the segments set up for you. Instead you'd crawled into a corner like a scared beast, doing work with your hands tied.

Hands clasped behind his back, Dottore approached where you were still working to clean whatever accident had happened. This was going to work. Your expected value far exceeded the trouble of giving a little encouragement.

"You can't work here"

"Because of a single mistake?"

He could easily peer over your shoulder, seeing you grip the wet rag a little tighter. There were remnants of various plants, vials of colorless reagents, and distillation equipment. The labels on the vials were a new addition, something he'd been meaning to delegate for a while.

"Lord Harbinger, with all due respect, expecting me to never mess up is ridiculous," you sounded tense, but not half as scared as previous personnel.

"The corner, mademoiselle. Is this how they do it at the Institute, cramped and inefficient?"

That made you pause, dropping the cloth and discarding your gloves with practiced ease, bare skin never touching the outside of the material.

"Finish what can't be moved as it is, we'll move you to the proper place afterwards," his voice carried finality, acquired through endless years of pulling strings.

A huff left your lips, but there was no complaining and you dutifully began corking vials. Not putting the gloves back on was bad practice, a fact you would've been aware of with the amount of training you'd allegedly undergone at Fontaine's Research Institute. Dottore crossed his arms in front of his chest, eyes focused on the way your delicate hands trembled.

Were you afraid? Properly afraid?

"Do you mind, Lord Harbinger?"

"Doctor," it stood to reason that he made it clear what title he preferred as early as possible, "and do be careful. I'd prefer if you lasted longer than the last"

His heels clicked against the stone floor, turning his body to look around while he waited. You'd taken over multiple tasks from various segments already, all of them routine work, freeing up time for the big projects. If this kept up he might actually-

"The table by the shelves?"

You had turned to him, the smile on your lips at odds with your eyes. Without answering he took the wooden crate holding the glassware and reagents, leaving you to gather messy papers and ragged notes. So that was a similarity, unfortunate that he couldn't have you organize his writing then.

"You've had a fortnight to settle in. That should have been more than plenty for you to grasp how things work here. And while you have done an admirable job," he dropped the crate onto the unoccupied workbench near his own, "you are expected to act for the benefit of the Fatui, not based on personal preference."

He could see the gears turning in your mind, your eyes fixed on the papers in your hands. Even while clenching them tightly, he could still see her fingers twitching.

"And work on steadying yourself. Your hands will be required in the future," Dottore ran a hand through his hair, watching in silence while you set the equipment up.

With a pleased hum, he noticed that you were spacing everything better this time around. Hopefully there would be no more preventable mishaps, and he would more easily be able to keep an eye on what occupied you.

Freedom to create and learn what you will. As long as expenditures were within reason, and orders from him prioritized of course. That would always be the desired way his personal laboratory operated.

"You're currently working on what? You began the day you arrived, highly unusual behavior compared to your predecessors. It must be important."

He saw the way you ran a finger tenderly along the glass, the way your shoulders rose a little with his inquiry.

"Death," your voice sounded hollow, something hauntingly familiar in how you said it, "It should be finished today. I'll compile everything for your perusal before the end of the week, Doctor."

Dottore felt his eyes widen a little behind the mask, the corners of his lips tugging upwards. It was a bold statement, her tone indicating it had been born of pure spite. In that case, he'd put it to excellent use.

[unhingedoveractivemuse]

Title: Let's be a mess together.

Pairing: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz

Tags: Established Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz, Secret Relationship, Marriage Proposal

Notes: Flufftober Extra "I hate it"-"No you don't."

=======================================

Buck drops his head against the locker he shares with Eddie, the thunk sounding out through the empty locker room. 

“I hate it,” he bemoans. 

“No you don’t,” Eddie says automatically, a little smirk on his face. 

He huffs, stepping up to his best friend so there’s little to no space between them, pausing the other man’s attempt to finish dressing. “This is your fault,” he accuses teasingly. 

“My fault? I seem to recall being okay with coming out to everyone about us.”

Buck pouts. Okay, so his partner is okay with coming out about the shift in their relationship but- “I’ve enjoyed it being just the two of us, though.”

“I know, querido. I’ve enjoyed it too.”

It had been easy hiding the fact they were dating - officially, that is, because Buck realized early on that they’d been ‘dating’ for a while now - when Eddie was working at dispatch, and the privacy of their relationship never took away from the intimacy and love they’ve basked in for the first two months of their relationship. 

Things changed with Eddie's return to work, though. They’ve kept it under wraps so far, promising themselves that they’d give it a month. By then, they should have completely gotten their footing, Eddie would have been prepared to come out, and they’d have proven they could still work together. 

That plan went out the window a month ago. 

Buck just enjoys the time they spend together without having their family sticking their noses in it okay? He’d never would have thought he could keep a relationship to himself for this long, but that’s probably because he’s never had someone so special to call his. He’s never been in a relationship that he wants to work out so badly as this one. He’s never been in a relationship that he cherishes every moment, wanting to bottle up every memory, as much as this one. 

It’s getting harder and harder to keep it to themselves though, their love for each other only growing and overflowing from their confines. Subtle touches have gotten longer. Looks across the station have gotten fonder. Eddie’s hands on his waist and arm have gone lower. Buck’s need to be close to Eddie and touch him has gotten more frequent. 

At this point, as much as Buck has been enjoying the reactions from Hen and Chim when he and Eddie do things that really touch the line between a platonic and romantic relationship, he doesn’t want to hold back his affection for his boyfriend. It’s been very trying. 

But their bubble… 

“But we both know they’ll find out sooner or later.”

Buck sighs, concurring. He hates the idea of popping their bubble, but, he also hates hiding it from their family. He hates not being able to kiss Eddie when he wants to or cuddle with him on the couch. 

So, no, he doesn’t hate having to come out to the team about them. 

“How do you want to tell them?” he asks, laying a hand on the eight-pack that had gotten him a little bothered on Eddie’s first day. 

(“Only a little?” the voice in his head that sounds like Eddie says.)

He relishes the warm feeling of Eddie’s skin, thankful that they got here before it was too late. Before one of them ended up six feet underground with feelings unspoken. 

“However you want,” his partner says, hand cupping Buck’s jaw, a fond smile on his face.

Buck can't help it then, leaning forward so that their noses brush, planting a soft kiss on his boyfriend's lips. He knows he can be a little bit of a mess sometimes, with thoughts straying, getting crazy ideas, and sometimes spiraling. It doesn’t matter though. Not to Eddie. 

Eddie knows all of that and still always lets Buck be himself. He lets Buck do what he wants from late-night information dives to a crazy idea he has to save someone, but he’s not so enabling that it'll get out of hand. And maybe that's part of the reason Buck loves him so much. He trusts that he can be himself around Eddie, but he also knows that he can trust Eddie to be honest with him and tell him when it's too much. 

Eddie sees him in a way no one does.

So of course Eddie would know Buck has ideas about how to come out to their team. 

But for now, they get lost in their own little world as they're wont to do. 

Not that it last long. 

“Alright, I hope you boys realize there’s a lot of paperwork involved with this.”

They whip around to find Bobby at the door, arms crossed but with an amused, happy expression on his face. 

At least they’re not in trouble?

Behind him are Hen and Chimney, both of their mouths open in surprise, but, as Buck watches, Hen’s face lights up and Chim grins. 

“Oh my gosh, you guys, when?!” Hen demands, looking absolutely delighted. 

“Not long after your vow renewals,” Buck tells her, feeling warm at the easy acceptance their family is giving them, especially considering he didn’t come out to all of them. He had gone to Hen because he was totally out of his depths, worried that he was starting to interpret his feelings for Eddie wrong, worried about labels, etc. Then he had gone to Maddie, admitting that he likes men as much as he does women after he realized and accepted the true nature and depth of his feelings for Eddie. But he hadn’t told Bobby or Chimney, one because of worry over how it’d affect the job and the other because of secret-keeping issues. 

Besides, admitting it is one thing. Actually getting together with a man - their co-worker, no less - is a different story. 

Hen grabs their arms, and Buck feels the vibrations coming from her excitement. “Oh, I’m so happy for you two. I mean, I hoped it was coming because you both admitted to having feelings for each other and you’ve been closer than closer recently. But I was worried neither of you would say anything to the other.”

“Okay, I’m really happy for you two, too,” Chimney says, then turns to his best friend. “But you knew?!”

“Yes, but, trust me, I was not thrilled about having to keep it a secret.”

“So all the time, the touches and everything…”

“I thought it was just them not controlling their feelings. I didn’t know about this development.”

“Okay. You’re forgiven.” Chimney turns back to them. “Does Maddie know though?”

Buck freezes. Crap. If Maddie finds out that they told the team before they told her, he was-

“Don’t you dare, Chimney Han!” he warns when the other man immediately fishes out his phone the moment he realizes Buck didn’t tell his sister, dashing forward to get the phone in an attempt to stop his teammate. 

“Alright, alright, we’ve got work to do,” Bobby says not long after, preventing him and Chimney from properly settling into a wrestling match.

“But-” he starts to protest when he notices that his phone is in Eddie’s hands, and his boyfriend is looking very triumphant. 

Oh, he loves that man so much. 

“Morning announcements in five,” Bobby orders. “But just to make it clear: I’m proud of your two. Congratulations.”

Buck flushes in the face of Bobby’s paternal tone. “Thanks, Pops.”

“You make it sound like they’re already engaged,” Hen teases their captain. “Can’t wait to be an official grandparent, Cap?”

The captain rolls his eyes, looking way too fond for the action to be misinterpreted as annoyance. “No, that is not the case, and you know it.”

“We can make that the case.”

He turns to look at his partner who had just spoken, surprised. He didn’t hear that wrong right?!

Judging by the expressions on everyone else’s faces, he did not.

“Eddie…” he breathes. 

“Would you want to? Get married to this mess of a widower? Officially adopt Christopher?”

Everything comes to a standstill around them. All Buck can see is Eddie and the earnest, hopeful look on his face. Eddie, who’s his boyfriend, his partner, his best friend. 

“Yes. Let’s be a mess together.”

And now his fiancé.  

[bokettochild]

Febuwhump Day 5 - Rope Burn

Well this took forever! I actualy finished last ight but then I wasn't sure if I hated it or not, so I had to sleep on it. If you see any typos, no you do not.

Wordcount: 9,300

Rating: Teen

Summary: After Twilight reveals some information about his past, Four tries to use it as a learning opportunity for all of them. It does not go as expected.

-

  “There is no way a military leader was that incompetent.”  

  Wild pauses in his story, much to Wind’s frustration, because he really did want to hear the end of it, which he’s about to say, only the vet’s voice raises, a smirk touching the other’s face as he settles down at the fire with the rest of them after coming back from doing rounds. “Sounds about right to me.”  

  “Too competent,” Warriors challenges, dropping his head to thoroughly tousle his hair, “half my men couldn’t do that.” That’s fair, Wind decides, he remembers the captain’s men as all being somewhat... stupid. 

  The champion stares at them, openly astounded. “How,” he begins, glancing between the vet and captain “are your kingdoms still standing? If the leaders of your defenses are less capable than Master I-killed-myself-on-accident-with-my-own-power Kohga?” 

  “Spoilers!” That’s how the story ends? Wild had only just begun to get to the part where he fought Kohga, but now the ending has been well and truly ruined! Although, it seems they’re getting derailed, so it’s quite likely he won’t even get to hear said ending, considering the champion is too busy looking between captain and veteran for answers. 

  The vet just snorts, unknowing of what he’s missed, and of Wind’s ire, and simply crossing his legs and focusing on the fire. “Where do you think I got the title of veteran? I don’t just sit on my fanny all day, champ.” 

  When the champion’s eyes turn to Warriors, the captain just shakes his head. “I have no clue.” It‘s more sigh than anything, as though the captain’s long since given up hopes for competency among his people. “I’d say Impa, but even she can’t hold the country together by herself, so I’m assuming it’s pure dumb luck.” 

  Across camp, Sky, who’d been the first one to say anything after the champion’s insane story, stares. “You’re saying I brought down the knights of Skyloft just so they could devolve into idiotic half-competent protectors of the country and leave kids to be the ones to save the world?” It’s harsh, but it’s fair as well, although not everyone seems to think so. Wind can’t say anything on the matter though because the closest to military groups they have in his world are pirates, and pirates don’t exactly serve the people. 

  The group as a whole gives each other considering looks, although Legend and Warriors are too busy talking with their eyes- Legend raising a brow and Warriors sighing, rolling his own eyes and earning a smirk in answer- to really care about what everyone else thinks. He thinks Legend asked a question, but how either of them can read each other that well, considering how rarely they even interact, he’s not sure.  

  “The knights in my era are half-competent,” Four assures, “easily manipulated by magic, but they’re just people, so I can’t really blame them. They’re good at their work though.” 

  “Lucky,” Legend scoffs. 

  Time also seems confident in the soldiers of his era, but Twilight adds that his own are cowards and pathetic, so it seems they’re split. Wind, Wild, and Hyrule can’t add anything, due to the lack of military forces in their eras, the soldier is in agreement with their farm boys on the idiocy of his own people, and only their first two and the old man seem to have any faith whatsoever in those set to guard their era. He wonders if maybe there was a decline, after one of them, that led to the army of Hyrule falling, but he doesn’t ask, since it’s unlikely they can say for sure anyway. 

  “How often do you interact with knights though?” Sky challenges, glancing between them. Most haven’t been around them often, but those who’ve got only ill to say all scoff, almost simultaneously, which startles them as much as it does the rest of the group. 

  “I live with them,” the captain starts slowly, glancing between Twilight and Legend with a curious half-smile as though he’s actively trying to figure out what on earth could tie them to the people whom they so frequently scorn. “Spent the last five or six years in the army.” 

  The vet’s a bit more hesitant with his answer, staring between them warily, guarded. “My sister is a knight commander, and our family has ties with the army, so I end up around them a lot more than I’d like, even when they aren’t actively hunting me down.” And Wind wants to stop the conversation there and ask about the fact that Legend apparently has a family and also a reason for the army to be up his ass about something, but he doesn’t get a chance because once more, someone else speaks first. 

  “I grew up on a military base,” Twilight snorts, “trust me, soldiers are as dumb as rocks.” 

  And well, Legend having a family isn’t that crazy in comparison to that. 

  Warriors starts, staring at the rancher, blinking slowly as though still trying to process the words of the other. “I’m sorry- you what?” 

  “I thought you grew up in Ordon?” Wild questions, turning to his mentor, confusion on clear display. 

  Yeah, Wind has a feeling that Wild’s story is well and truly over now, but he supposes it’s worth it. Learning something about their rancher is, he supposes, better than hearing the rest of the story the cook had already spoiled the ending too, especially as the limit of their knowledge about the rancher at this point is that he’s from Ordon, used to work as a ranch hand, and is descended from Time and Malon somehow. The fact that he’s a hero goes without saying, but the ranch hand nearly never shares anything about himself, even though he seems to love talking about his hometown and all the people in it, to the point where some of them feel they know the village and its residents already, despite still not having been there yet. 

  Yet, the rancher is grinning as he leans back, the sprig of hylian rice between his teeth bouncing some as he flashes a wolfish grin at them. “Well, yeah, sort of.” 

  “Sort of?” Time nudges his pup, looking thoroughly unimpressed. Their leader isn’t keen on them being cryptic with him, even though he frequently does so himself. The hypocrite. “Explain.” 

  The rancher chuckles, a nervous little thing, but obediently pulls himself up, resting his weight over his knees as he looks around the fire at all of them, eyes glinting slightly. “Well, y’see, I a’tually grew up in a citadel on the edge of Hyrule.” 

  Warriors jaw drops so fast. “Holy Hylia you’re a military brat.” 

  He can’t help it; he bursts into laughter. Yes, objectively, it’s funny to see Warriors so shocked, but from an outsider's perspective it is so, so much funnier because he’s met Warriors parents and sisters, and he’s seen for himself the proof that the captain is anything but the sissy city boy Twilight likes to accuse him of being. No, the captain was born in Hebra, so far out from cities that he thought Kakariko was huge. Meanwhile, it turns out their “country boy” actually grew up in a military base? Not the country? It turns out Twilight is the military brat and Warriors was the hill-billy? How the turn tables have turned! 

  The rest of the heroes stare at him, confused, but the captain just rolls blue eyes, pinching the tip of his ear to make him shut up. “Ignore him.” 

  Twilight’s dark gaze flicks between them, but apparently, he determines to listen to the captain for once. “Right, so, my dad was a’tually a knight from some family o’ knights or summat, an’ my mom comes from desert folk, so I grew up on the border studyin’ with other knights’ kids to take on our fathers’ duties ’n protect Hyrule one day.” 

  The stares are very, very evident by now, although Legend’s in particular is strangely intense, studying the other with his mouth half open like he’s got a question about the rancher’s words.  

 Broad shoulders shrug, a bit awkward as the rancher grins at them. “My friends growin’ up were dumber’n rocks, an’ every knight I’ve met since is the same, so yeah. Knights ‘re stupid.” 

  “Just a question,” and it seems the vet decided to actually ask whatever’s in his head, “but your knight family, they Hyrulian Knights?” 

  “Yeah?” 

  The vet nods, slowly, lips pursed like he’s sucking on a lemon. “Oh.” 

 “Why?” 

  A shake of pink hair, eyes turning back to the fire. “Same hat is all.” 

  “You too?” 

  “Born and raised, but never followed. Your folks drag you to Snowpeak every winter too?” 

  The rancher shakes his head. “Naw, yeti’s took the place over some time ago. I’d heard it used to be ours though, never thought much of it though. You’ve been?” 

 “Yeah.” 

  “Hold up,” Watrriors interrupts the, frankly unexpected, moment between their rancher and vet to stare between both of them “You’re both military brats, you both hate soldiers, and you both neglected to say anything until freaking now? Also, Hyrulian Knights? You’re talking about the fabled family that sealed back Ganon here, right? Produced the Savior of Labrynna, may or may not be the family of the Hero of Time?” That has their old man looking up, startled, for a moment. It’s only a moment though, because that one wide eye promptly shoots down to Twilight and then, as though on second thought, Legend too, Time’s stare growing ever more startled and shaken, ears twitching like they used too when he was particularly confused or trying to work something out in his head. 

  Legend snorts. “Yes.” 

  “Heads up,” Hyrule chuckles, “Legend is the Hero of Labrynna, so keep your hero worship at a minimum there, Wars.” 

  He thinks that the captain’s face flickers through all five stages of grief for a moment there before the man gets up and simply...walks away, leaving Hyrule rocking in his seat from laughter and Sky looking thoroughly befuddled. “Is he okay?” 

  “Big hero worship,” Wind says, like the snitch he is. He’s no traitor in most senses, but if he can give Warriors a little grief, tease him a bit, he will. He’s fine with sharing some of the things he’d learned under the care of the other. “Apparently he views that guy like I did with Time, wanted to be like him and everything.” 

  Rather than flush or falter, Legend’s lemon-sucking face gets even more pronounced. “Why?” 

  “Because apparently the stories all say you were such an inspiring leader to Labrynna’s army that soldiers and generals emulated both your tactics and speeches for decades after Ganon’s defeat.” It’s amazing to watch the vet’s entire world-view shatter at the words, the man apparently not sure if he should look off towards their captain who’s flopped on his bedroll to contemplate his whole life all over again or down at the ground to contemplate his own. Like the problem child he usually chooses not to be, Wind decides to make it worse. “His Hyrule considers you the greatest knight that ever lived.” 

  Ringed hands bury in pink hair, violet eyes blowing wide as the other hunches over, mind clearly blown. Beside the vet, Twilight gently (and by gently, Wind means very cautiously) claps his brother’s back, his own face a bit tense. 

 Wind is loving watching this. This is better than listening to Wild explain his exploits against the Yiga! Although, he’s also curious. “Did you really grow up in a citadel, Twi?” 

  “Yeah,” a brief nod, dark eyes lingering on their malfunctioning veteran, “I only traveled up Ordon way around your age, when the citadel fell.” 

  Okay, not touching that bomb. “What was it like?” 

  His question earns a grin. “What you’d expect, I s’pose. We were monsters as kids, an’ I s’pose growin’ up military gave us a twisted view of the world. Or, rather, of what was normal any’ays.” 

  “Like how?” Sky, who grew up in a knight’s academy and seems entirely normal by what standards Wind has, asks. 

  “Our main games usually centered around pretendin’ to be knights an’ capturin’ each other or doin’ what we saw our dads doin’ most of the time.” 

  “Like?” Time prods again. 

 Twilight grins, and then falters, looking suddenly alarmed as he glances over the rest of them. “Okay, in hindsight, it was messed up.”   

  Now he really wants to know. “What did you do?”  

  The others all stare; those who aren’t, like Warriors and Legend, currently questioning their existence. Their concern is steadily growing the more Twilight falters and flushes, and Wind is now very much dying to know what sort of shenanigans the rancher used to get up to as a kid. Whatever it was, it can’t be worse than what Time used to put him through during the war, although the idea of their sweet and warm rancher being related to the gremlin he remembers from back then is now not so insane a concept anymore. 

  “Alright,” The (apparently not from Ordon) Ordonian starts at last, and Wind’s not sure if the rancher is aware that he’s moved his hand up to be toying with the vet’s hair now, a nervous sort of stroking, but the vet hasn’t snapped at him for it yet, although maybe that’s because he’s just too lost in his own head to notice, “don’t judge.” 

  “I will reserve my judgement,” Four answers, slowly, “but no promises.” 

  “I grew up on the edge of the desert, an’ most of what our folks did was hunt Gerudo thieves an’ protect traders in an’ outta the desert.” Which makes sense, but he feels like Twilight’s getting at something less than what his parents did for a living. “Nowadays, my hairs a fair bit darker, but it was purdy red back then an’ the other kids kind of figured it meant that when we played, I had to be the evil Gerudo thief, since, y’know, red hair.” 

  Ah, racism in children, now Wind sees it. Not what he was hoping for but he’s not sure what he was expecting. 

  “So,” Twilight clears his throat awkwardly, “when we played, I’d be the bad guy an’ they’d chase me down and ‘capture’ me. In hindsight, it probably was less play an’ more bullyin’ since I wasn’t too well liked at first an’ they weren’t very nice about it.” 

  “But?” Sky asks, maybe too hopefully. 

  “But,” the rancher accepts, because apparently there's something good in this after all, or at least something that makes the man smile, “part of the ‘game’ involved them tryin’ to tie me up. Unfortunately for them, I got mighty good at escapin’ bein’ tied up. I think I must’ve impressed ‘em, because they started makin’ a game of if I could escape various crazy things, an’ sometimes would ask me to help ‘em tie each other up so they could try a hand at it too.” Sharp teeth glint in a fond smile. “Got a reputation for bein’ slippery as a snake and sly as a fox, an’ t’others all started treatin’ me like some sorta genius. We became friends awful fast after.” 

  An awkward silence settles over camp after that, the rancher’s words sinking in and the rest of them processing what was said. Surprisingly, it’s Legend who breaks it, lifting his head from his own hands, apparently having decided to shelf whatever feelings he’s having, but also apparently missing the hand still tangled in his hair. “So, in other words, you earned the respect of your bullies and made their bullying into what sounds like a perfectly normal childhood game.” 

  “What sort of a childhood did you have again?” Sky deadpans. “Didn’t you start adventuring at like, eight?” 

  “And?” The vet returns, looking actually, genuinely confused as to what that has to do with anything. 

  Their chosen hero sighs, shaking his head, apparently already giving up on trying to explain the flaw in the vet’s logic. Honestly, Wind can’t see it, whatever it is, but he’s getting the impression that kids on Skyloft and kids in Hyrule have very, very different experiences.  

- 

  It’s about a week later that someone brings it up again, and surprisingly, it’s Four. 

  They’re sitting around the main room of the smithy’s house, keeping warm after spending the last day out in the middle of a strange mix of fog and rain while hunting monsters. The smithy’s parents have been very welcoming towards their guests, and all of them are savoring the chance to fully relax for the first time in a good while. Well, most of them, Legend and Hyrule don’t seem particularly capable of fully relaxing, so Four’s mother has roped them into helping her in the little garden out back, which seems to be quite to the vet’s tastes and, while foreign to Hyrule, a new experience the traveler doesn't seem keen on passing up. 

  That leaves the rest of them free in the otherwise empty house, left to their own devices while the smithy’s father attends to his work at the castle. Twilight is trying (and failing) to teach Warriors how to play chess, and Wind and Wild are busy playing with Four’s cat, Tongs, when the smithy suddenly walks into the room again after coming downstairs and addresses the rancher. “Do you think you could still escape being tied up?” 

  Time, who was sitting on the couch, looking halfway towards dozing off, suddenly starts awake again and stares, as do the rest of them. 

  “Pardon?” The rancher asks, sighing in defeat as Warriors knocks all the pieces off the chess board with an agitated scowl, signifying his disinterest in continuing to try and learn the “stupid” game. 

  “The game you mentioned,” Four reminds them, crossing the room to perch on the couch arm closest to the rancher, although why he doesn’t just sit on the couch, Wind’s not sure. “You said your friends were really impressed by your ability to escape all the time. Do you think you could still do that?” 

  Twilight shrugs, scooping up the fallen chess pieces to put back in their box, all while Warriors glares at one of the rooks like it’s personally offended him. Wind wasn’t watching close enough to know if it had or not. “I mean, I might, haven’t tried in a while. Why?” 

  The smithy kicks his feet, well off the floor, and frowns, a thoughtful frown like he’s slowly piecing his words together. “I was curious. I’ve never been good at that sort of thing, and I wanted to know if you’d be willing to show us so I could get better.” 

  “And why do you need to get better at escaping being tied up?” The captain interjects, tossing the white rook into the box with a twitch of a frown. 

  “So sure you want to ask that?” Sky snorts, moseying in from the kitchen where Four’s mother had given them free access to make tea and grab food. The face the captain makes at him is scandalized but their chosen hero just slurps his tea, staring over the rim of his cup with raised brows. 

  Wind doesn’t get the joke. He’s not sure if he wants to. 

  Four huffs, slightly red in the cheeks, but presses on. “During my adventure, I made...some mistakes. It resulted in my capture, and I couldn’t exactly escape. I don’t want that to happen again.” It’s a simple enough answer, glazing over anything and everything other than the smithy getting captured, but it still raises questions, although not the ones the smithy was likely trying to avoid. 

  “I thought you were a knight?” Warriors picks up the queen piece, not dropping it yet but not staring at it either, instead focusing his narrowed eyes on their smithy. “All soldiers are trained on what to do in the case of capture, torture, and questioning. Did you not recieve that training?” 

  It’s Twilight’s turn to shift about to stare at the captain. “How would they train that sort of thing?” 

  The captain’s face screws up, “Am I the only one who was taught this? Sky,” the man drops the queen and it goes rolling across the table, “did you or did you not receive-” 

  “No,” the chosen hero doesn’t even wait for the other to finish. “Who on earth would even interrogate us? Skyloftian knights fight monsters, not men.” A long sip follows the words before Sky frowns and turns to look down at the seated soldier. “Do they seriously teach you about torture?” 

  “Yes?” Warriors glances around, but all of them look back at him with confusion. “All common soldiers learn this? You have to in order to progress through the ranks?” 

  “Not ringing a bell,” Time deadpans, staring at the captain with both eyes. 

  Warriors blinks, like the idea that his experience with knighthood not being universal is, in fact, a surprise to him. Wind can’t blame him though, considering based off of what he knows about the other, Warriors had gone through most of his experiences beside dozens of other young men, including his own childhood friends, in order to reach the rank he was at before the war started and he’d been suddenly promoted to captain. 

  “Well,” Four shifts, crossing his legs, “that’s a can of worms to be addressed later, but back to my question: Twilight, can you teach me escape tricks?” 

  “Correction,” Time sits up and turns around, eyes lingering on the captain a moment more before turning on his pup, “Twilight, Warriors, would both of you two be willing to help the rest of us learn escape methods and-” a vague hand motion is made at the soldier, “-whatever sort of training you received that all the rest of the knights here haven’t.” 

  The request seems to make the captain extremely uncomfortable and Wind doesn't miss the way royal blue eyes dart to him, hesitant. “Not the torture part.” 

  “What does that entail?” Sky asks, stare sharp and heavy in ways the man usually never is. 

  “Doesn’t matter,” Warriors is already moving to stand, leaving Twilight to clean up the rest of their game by himself. “I’m not teaching that to kids.” 

 “I am not a child!” It feels like the thousandth time he’s said that, but the look in the captain’s eyes.... yeah, he’ll let the man have this one. He's not sure he wants to see what it is that Warriors is trying to protect them from, especially after he saw everything that happened to the man during the war. 

  - 

  They have to recruit Legend and Hyrule from the garden, which Four does, and in the meantime Wind produces a length of rope for them to use for the exercise. The captain and Twilight are speaking in hushed whispers in the corner when Four returns with the others, and Legend shoots them a curious look as he heads over to where Wind is uncoiling all the rope he had in his bag. 

  “What’s going on?” 

  “Training exercise.” He answers, handing off the rope to the vet, who starts slightly at the contact but then helps him in re-coiling the loose chord.  

  “Why is the captain so tense?” 

  Those words make him look up, staring for a moment. Twilight seems perfectly at ease, but their soldier’s shoulders are tense, jaw set in a way he usually only has during a battle or shortly after one. Even the captain’s hands are still; devoid of their typical tremor, and if that’s not a sign to make him worry, he’s not sure what is. That said, he’s a bit surprised Legend had picked up on that. “I think he’s got bad memories of doing this before, he was pretty firm with Time about what he was and wasn’t willing to teach us.” 

  “Which is?” 

  “What to do if you’re captured or otherwise held against your will,” Time seems to materialize out of nowhere to answer the question, making Legend start slightly and scowl at the man. “Apparently most knights are trained to handle it, and I think you boys could benefit from having that knowledge too.” 

  “Yeah,” Legend snips, “because the shadow is totally gonna tie us to a chair and demand to know all our secrets.” 

  The conversation in the corner breaks off, Warriors running both hands through his hair in an agitated way while Twilight moves over to join the rest of them. “Maybe not, but the shadow ain’t the only threat out there, vet. You know that.” 

  The point is conceded, and the rest of them move in close, following their rancher’s example and watching as the man settles down into a kitchen chair Four had provided for their use. Twilight is not the one to start though, instead \turning his own attention, and thus the others do as well, towards the captain, who’s looking a little less like his normal self. It takes a moment, but Wind finally decides it’s the mess the man’s hair is in, that and the way all his emotions seem to have been wiped away cleanly as he stalks towards where the rancher is sitting.  

 “Twilight has agreed to show you all how to handle this, meanwhile, as I have the training, I will be instructing.” His breathing is off. “In some cases- most actually, the likelihood of being captured and watched by a large group is rare. Most of you don’t look like a major threat and few of you have a rank worth exploiting by your enemies, so your chances of being captured and tortured are low. The chances of questioning is also low, although possible, but considering how well you all keep your own secrets, I don’t think I have to teach you how to keep your mouths shut.” There’s the slightest quirk of a smile at that, and a few smile back. 

  Wind doesn’t. Wind is too busy watching the way too-steady hands reach out to take the rope Legend is still holding. 

  “I don’t need to teach you all how to watch the enemy, or how to be cautious, sneaky, how to move about without being seen- you know these things already.” The rope snaps in what he knows is a purposeful motion by the soldier to unsettle them, and that, if anything, is assurance that Warriors is still in there, and not entirely overwhelmed. Come to think of it, he may even be purposefully throwing them off with his behavior and appearance in order to better convey what it’s like to be held captive by a stranger. The thought actually makes him start and stare, watching closely. The hand thing can’t be faked, so maybe there’s some truth to the terrifying mask the captain is pulling; cold, harsh, calculating and seeking a reaction, but he genuinely hopes most of it really is just put on. “But how do you escape binds of different kinds? How do you quickly turn the tables to take yourself from prisoner to captor?” A twist of the hands and Warriors has made knot dangerously close to a noose. “Let’s try that, shall we?” 

  At his side, Legend tenses, eyes fixed on the captain as the man wraps the noose quickly around one of Twilight’s wrists, the rancher allowing himself to be manipulated as needed for the time being while Warriors twists and pulls and ties the rope this way and that. It's genuinely impressive, the kinds of knots and the effort put into them, far more than most enemies are likely to bother using, but the man still uses them, calling their attention to the different kinds and showing how some give way with a tug and others tighten, informing them that feeling the sort of knot used can be a huge step in escaping it, as it provides clues on how to manipulate your bindings to your own will. 

  Once the captain is finished, Twilight’s wrists and ankles are both quite effectively restrained, the rancher sitting quietly as he allows the rest of them to look over the bonds and Warriors to explain further about why certain knots are used and which ones to be on the lookout for. They are allowed to touch, encouraged even, to see how the rope feels, because- as the captain instructs them, clipped and cold- the likelihood of being granted sight is very low indeed when held captive. 

  “Everyone got all that?” At their nods, Warriors turns to Twilight. “Go nuts.” 

  Watching Twilight escape is very nearly as interesting as watching him get tied up. The rancher doesn’t explain nearly anything at all, focusing instead on getting out, but Warriors fills the blanks, pointing out that shifting, tugging and rolling your limbs can help loosen most bonds, even if it does tend to tighten the knots. “You don’t want to untie each knot, just get out of them. Most escapes need to be quick so as to actually be able to get out, but some circumstances give you time enough to pick over the knots later if you need the rope for something else. Getting a read on your situation at all times is crucial, but you have to rely on your own judgement much of the time in order to know what skills to employ and what to set aside.” 

  By the time the man is done speaking, Twilight is springing up out of the chair and making a grab at the captain. Almost without breathing, Warriors catches the other in a headlock. It's like watching a snake strike, one moment it looks like Twilight has him, and the next, the rancher is doubled over with their captain’s arms around his neck. 

  “Good try.” 

  Twi grins. “Woudla had’ja if I’d had time to slip my feet free.” 

  “Or if I’d been paying less attention,” the captain smiles, but it’s cold, thin, and very much not like their brother. The man’s hands let loose the other, leaving Twilight free to tug loose his feet while he turns back to the rest of them. “A key point is to watch for opening at all times. If your enemy turns their back or drops their guard, they give you a chance to over-power, injure, or kill them.” It’s said too coldly, too clinically, as though Warriors isn’t even talking about a life at all. He's beginning to see why the man spoke about this sort of training like he did; Warriors will be dumbing it down for them, making it something they can process, but with soldiers, commanders who didn’t give a shit about the innocence of their students, he can only imagine how this sort of thing would have been, especially paired with the knowledge that Warriors had also withstood training for torture and interrogation, so the mental strain would have been far worse then. 

  Honestly, maybe it’s not an act. Maybe Warriors is just used to shutting his emotions off when it comes to issues like this. 

  “Any questions?” 

 “Yeah,” it’s a new voice, one he doesn't know yet, which speaks, and it has all the heroes turning about abruptly at the sound of it, except the captain, who seems unsurprised, unlike them, to see Four’s father standing in the doorway “What on earth is going on here?” 

  As though of one mind, they all turn on the smithy. 

  “Training?” 

  “What kind?” The man leans in the door, one brow raised. He doesn’t look upset, maybe bemused, but Wind still feels Legend draw up stiff beside him. 

  “Escape training, sir,” Warriors clips, stepping forwards to address the man, “your son tells me he hasn't had a chance to undergo such training previously.” 

  “No.” It’s a very loaded word, “he hasn’t.” Guarded, wary, maybe even pained. Wind’s not sure, but he supposes maybe Four’s father doesn’t like the idea of his son undergoing whatever this training entails. 

  The captain doesn’t let the other knight’s tone bother him though. “All due respect sir, he requested that the Hero of Twilight and I instruct him, and the rest, in order that he might have some knowledge of what to do in the case of capture, sir.” Oh, Warriors is falling into soldier mode for real now. Shit. 

  Sir Smith notices too, apparently, face softening some as he looks at the younger soldier. “As ease, captain.” 

  Warriors does not relax in the slightest. 

  “Well,” their smithy’s father turns to look over them and the room in general, “I suppose it’s good knowledge to have, and about time you had it. Is there anything I can do to assist?” 

The offer is accepted eagerly by their smithy, and while Warriors still looks somewhat tense, Wind’s quite sure it’s the nature of the training and not the man offering to help with it. No, the captain and this world’s army commander had got on like a housefire last night, and he knows Warriors likes the man. It’s fine, his brother is just uncomfortable and thus falling into familiar patterns and behaviors in order to not betray that. Given time after, and Warriors will slowly drop those and return to his normal self once he’s ready. He’ll be okay. 

 “Escapin’ is like pretty boy said,” Twilight tells them, standing up again now that he’s free, “it’s a matter of gettin’ the ropes loose enough t’slip out. Amateurs tend to go too loose, an’ they keep it quick an’ easy. ‘pparently soldiers cover all the bases though.” The last part is added with a snort and a light nudge at their captain. 

  Time nods, slowly. “Four minutes and seventeen seconds. Quite impressive, pup.” 

  The words have the rancher beaming. 

  “Right,” Warriors plows ahead, ignoring the moment and looking over each of them. “Legend, you said you’d been trained, how about you show the rest how a smaller individual can handle this?”  

  The vet glares at the implications but doesn’t say anything. It’s fact that most of them aren’t nearly as big as Twilight and, considering few of them possess his brute strength either, having a few examples will probably give them more to work off of in the long run. Still, there’s something wary about the way the vet approaches the chair, hands already fisted as he stands in front of it, rather than deliberately sitting as the rancher had done. 

 “Commander,” Warriors turns over to Four’s father (he’s introduced himself as Leon, right?) and motions to the vet. “I believe you have more experience than I.” 

  The elder soldier nods, in one motion both conveying respect and also submitting himself to the command of the younger soldier for the time being, which Wind thinks is very grand of him considering it’s the older man’s own house they’re in, and his son they’re teaching. Then again though, Four had said that his dad is the sort of person who isn’t afraid to let a younger person take the lead if they know what they’re doing. 

  He wonders how Four knows that to be able to say it so confidently. What on earth does he get up to on his own? 

  A question for later, he guesses. Right now, it’s time to pay attention, because even if he hopes to grow as big as Twilight, Legend and he are pretty close in size now, so this will be more useful for him than watching the rancher. 

  Unlike Twilight, Legend doesn’t go easily, making Leon actually have to fight against him in order to continue. That, apparently, it is good though, as Warriors makes it a teaching point, “Generally speaking,” one large hand catches the vet’s dominant one, “you don’t want to let the enemy tie you down in the first place. Honor is all well and good, but when it comes to surviving, no one’s blaming you for fighting dirty.” Something Legend is notorious for. “Watch how the vet handles this, then we’ll discuss after. Sir Leon-” that is the right name then, great! “-will probably approach it differently than I do as well, so be aware that all captors are not the same.” 

  And the smithy’s father definitely doesn’t handle things the way Warriors did, nor does Legend. Where Twilight had let Warriors shift and move him as needed, Legend fights, and where Warriors had given little vocal cues to his “prisoner” and guided his motions carefully, well aware that a wrong move from the rancher at close proximity could do damage, Leon isn’t nearly as careful, instead grabbing, holding, and forcing the vet’s arms behind his back before slinging a rope around them with all the speed of a sailor in a storm. Also, unlike Warriors, Leon doesn’t use a variety of knots, rather keeping it quick and tight. 

  “He’s got thin wrists, so a tighter bind is needed. Some tie it tight enough to harm, but that’s not the goal here. Know it happens though.” The elder soldier tells them, yanking back on the vet who makes to push away. He doesn’t try to force the vet into the chair, instead catching the younger by the collar while his free hand works, hissing, “stay still, you wriggly thing!” 

  Wind’s not sure what exactly about the situation is wrong, but he swears he hears the vet’s breath catch, stutter, and then with a truly terrific show of strength, Legend rips himself free of the man’s hold, kicking back against the knight and propelling himself forwards hard enough that his collar slips free from the man’s hands and the vet can stumble very quickly away. Rather than stage an “attack” though, the hero just spins about, and the whole room freezes. 

  Legend’s stance is too tightly wound, breath too sharp, too harsh, but most obvious is the utter and complete terror shining in blown out violet eyes.  

  “Shit,” Warriors is moving before any of them have a clue what to do, and all aggression, put on though it was, immediately disappears from Leon’s own stance as both knights recognize what Wind himself has as well. He doesn't know how, and he doesn’t know why, but something about the situation has acted as enough to trigger the vet into some sort of panic, and what to them is a training exercise, has become, to his mind, very, very real. 

  “Lad-” Leon’s motion towards the vet earns a start back, one that is made even worse when Four jumps up from where he’d been watching. Wind can’t imagine why the sight of Four, of all of the people in the room, would make Legend stumble so far back that he falls flat on his ass, but it happens. It happens and none of them, especially the smithy, miss it. 

  “Vet?” They’re all worried, and several of them step forwards, reaching out, ready to help, wanting to help, only for both Hyrule and Wild to grab those closest to them and pull them back, something Wind does himself, catching ahold of the smithy. The last thing the vet needs is people crowding in and leaving him no space to breathe. Being surrounded when you’re vulnerable is bad, very bad, and if watching out for Mask and watching the captain taught him anything, it’s that letting an experienced adult handle it and keeping everyone else away is the best course of action. 

  “Is he-” again, Leon’s voice is cut off, this time though by a strangled sound from the vet. 

  “Leon,” and it’s the first time that the soldier’s voice has dropped titles to use anything else, “leave.” 

  “Excuse me?” Four hisses, but that also seems to have a very negative effect, one that has the captain turning, slowly, voice low and soft but cold enough to freeze.  

 “You too, smithy.” 

  Whatever is about to be said in return is cut off by Leon hefting his son over his shoulder and quickly leaving the room, although both he and Four look after the others even as they exit the door. If the situation were any different, Wind thinks he might have laughed at Four’s easy acceptance of being carried like a potato sack by his father, but right now dealing with the vet takes precedence. Luckily for all at hand, even if Warriors isn’t the most qualified to run a training simulation, there’s no one better at handing panic attacks. 

  Despite being downed, Legend’s still managed to shift enough that the ropes Leon was working to be decently tight have been mostly ripped off, although they’ve left a nasty burn across the hero’s skin, one that’s bleeding slightly in the worst areas along the inside of his wrists. No one stops him freeing himself though, and while the performance is definitely over, there’s also a part of all of them that notes how quickly Legend pulls himself free, the sailor even hears Time whisper a soft “two minutes, fourteen seconds” to himself, slightly awed. 

  “Hey,” Warriors’ voice has lost every amount of edge, ice, or stiffness as he settles down in front of their felled brother, now as full of warmth as if he’s back on the field, talking Mask out of his own head after the younger hero’s namesake was put away again. “You with me?” 

  Ragged breathing would indicate that no, Legend is not. He’s very much not, just staring after the door where Four and his father had disappeared, eyes still wide and breath too shallow. 

  The captain reaches out; slow, deliberate motions, easy to track as he reaches for the other hero. “You’re okay, alright? You’re safe. We were training, but it’s over. There is no threat here.” 

  The vet flinches away from the hand, inches from his arm, back slamming against a cabinet and making whatever’s inside clatter loudly, which just sees to further unsettled the shaken hero, who jumps at the sound, whipping his head around to look back, only to flick unseeing eyes back towards the captain. 

  Warriors doesn’t so much as falter, using his lifted hand to slowly push shaggy hair out of where it’d been over his eyes for the last while, messy and just slightly wavy at the ends, like he’s not had time to straighten it in a while. “Hey, it’s me. It’s Warriors, you in there, Link?” 

  Violet eyes flicker across the older man’s face, and this time, when Warriors reaches out, Legend doesn’t start away again, although he watches the hand reaching for him like it’ll produce a knife at any second. Luckily for all, the captain’s not capable of that sort of a trick, and all his hand does is catch one of Legend’s own, not by the wrist as Leon had done, but gently catching fingers in his own and guiding them towards himself, pulling the vet’s hand to settle over his chest, eyes locking with the other’s as he breathes a long, purposeful, breath. 

 Just like Mask used to, Legend mimics the action, although his own breath catches some. It doesn’t stop the captain from trying again though, and slowly, steadily, Legend’s breathing evens out again, clarity returning to his eyes like stars coming out at dusk. 

  “There you are,” their brother breathes, soft and warm and gentle and everything that eases tension and doesn’t spark it further, “keep breathing, you’re okay.” 

 Just because he says it though, doesn't mean it works, because the next breath that escapes their brother sounds more like a strangled sob. 

  Warriors doesn’t so much as falter. “You’re okay. It’s alright,” the hand that lifts is flinched back from, so the captain drops it again, resting it only over the hand still pressed to his own chest. “Keep breathing- there we go. You’re okay, you’re safe.” 

 The dart of dark eyes to the door betrays that Legend doesn’t believe him for a moment, but the vet shudders only a bit, focusing on Warriors again as he pulls away from the cabinets, although not so much to be closer to the captain as to not longer be shrinking away. It’s a sign of some recognition though, which is far better than nothing, and apparently a cue for the soldier to find out what is going on. 

  “That escalated a bit quick, wanna tell me what went wrong?” 

  Legend opens his mouth to answer, but a hitching breath is all that comes out, face twisting and screwing up again enough to warn that a repeat is very much in the cards. 

  Warriors counters quickly. “Was it the ropes? Too tight? Too many people?” He keeps the questions far enough apart to give time for a signal one way or another, but Legend doesn't do much more than force shaking breathes out as his hands reach to tangle in his wild hair. His hat fell off in the scuffle, and currently lies at Time’s feet. “Was Leon too-” 

  The strangled sound at the man’s name cuts Warriors off, and recognition shines in blue eyes. 

  “Leon.” Warriors repeats. 

  Legend’s eyes squeeze closed; face pinched up and shattered. 

  The soldier sighs. “Can I touch you?” 

  “No.” The fact that it’s verbalized is a huge step, and Wind sighs a breath of relief. 

  Warriors, likewise, accepts the boundary, shifting back a bit to grant their vet more space, but not so much as to seem like he’s leaving. “Okay, this is related to Leon. Was it how he handled you?” 

  Nothing. 

  “Was it something one of us said?” 

  A hitch in the vet’s breath, the captain opens his mouth to try again, to press, but Legend answers aloud again this time, voice a wreck. “I- he-” a desperate gasp for air as ringed fingers tug at messy hair, “he’s sounds-”  

  No doubt recognizing Mask’s same struggle with words in the other, Warriors offers his own, soft and quiet, but not yet a whisper. “Did he sound like someone you know?” 

  A nod. A fervent, desperate, nod as violet eyes squeeze shut again. “Sorry...” 

  Hearing the vet apologize has never sounded like such an awful thing. He hates it. 

  The captain clearly does too, but he says nothing to that effect, although the brief flick of his ears and flash of his eyes says it for him. “It’s not your fault. It happens to the best of us.” 

 A scoff. Yeah, Legend’s still in there. 

  Warriors presses on. “No really, it does. It sucks, but it happens.” 

  Dark eyes peek open, fixing on the captain. 

  “Yes, even with me.” The smile there is pained, strained, but real, despite all, and the flick down of the vet’s eyes to still outheld hands prompts the captain to reach out once more. “Would you like me to touch now?”  

 There’s a pause, nothing said, and nothing done, just a stillness as Legend considers the offer. He’s wary about touch even on good days, but usually only when it’s expressly offered or pointed out. When no one says anything, it’s usually met with acceptance as long as it’s not demeaning in any way.  

  As though catching onto a similar train of thought, Warriors changes his offer. “I could lend you my scarf?” 

  A glare. Okay, rude, it’s not that demeaning! Wind likes the scarf! Mask adored the scarf! Enough to throw fits when it wasn't his turn with it! Legend doesn’t have to want it, but there’s no need to make faces like that! It earns a laugh from their captain though, eyes creasing the way they rarely do, and only when he really means it, hand falling to rest gently on the foot of the other. Legend doesn’t shake him off, just stares, then lifts his gaze back up to search the captain’s face again. 

  Warriors meets it, smile fading back to the sad one again. 

 The vet’s gaze drops, arms falling to wrap around himself rather than digging his fingers into his scalp. “He looks-” a breath, harsh and strained, angry as it whishes between clenched teeth, brows drawing low with inward turned frustration, “the- our-” 

  “He looks like someone you know?” At yet another, hesitant, nod, Warriors presses further. “Someone who hurt you? Maybe someone you used to trust?” 

  A sigh. A slow nod before the vet’s head drops to rest against his raised knees. He's still shaking. 

  It’s clear as day that Warriors wants nothing more than to wrap an arm around their brother, pull hm close and assure, but he doesn’t. No, the captain respects the established boundary and doesn’t move any closer, hand just resting on one ankle as he crouches in front of their brother. “I get that.” his voice is softer now, bittersweet, “it sucks, I know. There's someone you trust and then you can’t trust them anymore, and it’s hard, especially when you meet someone who reminds you of them.” 

  Shit. Wind knows he shouldn’t, knows both he and Time know better, but neither can help it as they turn their focus on the captain, wary and watching. That is never a good subject to talk about, but the fact that Warriors is the one broaching it for the first time in forever is frankly shocking. 

  “You too?” Legend’s trying to pass off a tired smile of his own, but it just looks like he’s trying not to cry. 

 The captain nods, lifting his hand (definitely noticing how Legend’s breath catches at the loss of contact) and instead turning to lean his own back against the china cabinet, settling in beside their shaken brother, eyes falling closed in what’s both an open sign of trust, but also an obvious bid to ignore the sharp stares of both his boys on him. “Yeah, me too. It sucks, doesn’t it?” 

 “Sounds just like him,” Legend says, the first full sentence since he’d gone down, and Wind doesn't miss the way the other hero leans a bit closer into the captain’s space, although he doesn't touch him. “Looks like ‘im too.” 

  Blue eyes open again, turning past all their curious and worried ones to watch the vet, warm and gentle, that same look that he’d turn on Mask, and Wind doesn't doubt it was turned on him too, when Warriors thought they weren't looking. 

  The vet shudders, steeling himself up again, walls visibly reconstructing before their eyes. “He used to visit, when I was small. I saw him like a grandfather-” and they crumble again, the vet blinking violently, voice small. “He has granddaughters my age.” 

  “What happened?” Wind doesn’t mean to let the words slip, but they do. 

  Legend’s head hits the cabinet doors. “Corrupted.” 

 The captain nods. He knows. Wind knows that he knows. “I’m sorry.” 

  “He sounded just like him.” 

  “I know,” it’s a hysterical sort of laughter that escapes the older hero this time, “trust me, I get it. Every time I hear an Ordon accent, any time someone suggests playing chess,” the captain’s eyes roll upwards, and Wind’s kind of shocked when he realizes there’s tears there. “It sucks. Gods it sucks, but you live with it. I wish I could say it gets better, but I’m not there yet.” 

  Pink hair drops, settling against faintly shaking shoulders. “You were close?” 

Suddenly the moment before them feels too private to witness anymore. Suddenly, being there feels wrong, hearing Legend ask things that everyone at home in Warriors’ world knows better than to speak of. He doesn't know why Warriors answers, maybe out of guilt for pulling the vet into the exercise, maybe out of a need to set an example or assure, maybe out of his own sort of desperation, but an answer is given. 

  “Yeah. Grew up together. He teased me for my accent, I teased him for his. We ran our mothers to worry and our commanders to madness. I hauled his ass out of prison, he watched mine on the field. Heck,” a smile, bittersweet as the captain settles a cheek in rosy hair, “we went through our trailing- kinda like what I was trying to show the others- we did that together too.” A soft scoff, not a sob, but close, “I think he’s the only reason I made it through training t’all. Would’ve gone mad wit’out ‘im.” 

  “What happened?” Twilight dares speak up, and Wind doesn’t miss the way the man’s thick accent is held in check, nearly gone altogether. So, Twi did hear the comment about Ordon. 

  The captain sighs, lifting his head and staring out at the rest of them, eyes fixing on the rancher last of all. “Ganon. As with most things.” 

  Twilight winces. 

  Warriors chuckles. “Some days it’s like he never left though. He’s still on my ass, still callin’ me ‘pretty boy and tryin’ to get a rise outta me.” Wind doesn’t miss how Twilight’s face crumbles when he realizes blue eyes are still fixed on his. The captain doesn’t either, smile twitching alive again. “It’s nice, sometimes, like seeing what he’d be like if nothing happened. Other days, it’s difficult, and it makes it hard to get through the day.” 

  “How do you handle us?” Legend breathes, half scoff and half awe, eyes trying for a smile again and doing much better. It’s not happy, but it’s kind. 

  The captain doesn’t miss it. “Hylia only knows,” he teases, knocking his shoulder against the one still pressed against it, and then, more serious, “I draw back if I need. Sure, Twilight reminds me of him a lot, some days, but then he does something Gassun would never, or does something so stupid only a hero would do it, and then I remember again and I’m fine.” 

 “Really?” The Stare of Disappointment was definitely something Time learned from the captain, so Wind can’t fathom why the man tries to use it on their brother, but here he is, doing just that. “You expect us to believe that?” 

  “Have faith in me,” Warriors snorts, “I don’t wander around in my own head all day. If I did, you’d’ve burned the world down already!” 

  It sort of ends like that. Warriors redirecting their attention and Legend rolling his eyes at their antics, slowly uncurling again until Four’s mother comes back inside and requests access to her kitchen again. They scatter after, Warriors throwing an arm around the vet and guiding him upstairs so they can have a talk, Time going off in search of the smithy and his father, Wild joining in dinner preparations, and the rest of them cleaning up their mess before leaving. 

 Hyrule still has questions for Twilight about escaping, but Sky heads upstairs after the others, worry creasing his brow in ways it rarely does, but Wind stays behind, scooping up Tongs to keep him company in the wake of his brothers all leaving. Even so, he makes a note to ask the others how they are later. 

  Of course, later, Twilight also asks about what Warriors said, and the captain, to the shock of both his charges, explains himself. Thinking back, it’s no wonder Warriors sees a resemblance; Twilight may have spent his last few years in Ordon, but the military haircut is still very present, a mirror of the captain's own and quite similar to said captain's old friend. Granted, Twilight is darker, hair redder and eyes bright blue, but the accent is the same, rough manner so similar, and the nicknames definitely finish the picture. He doesn’t like the implications of that, not for either of the two, but Twilight walks out of the conversation only looking someone thoughtful, rather than upset, and Warriors seems normal enough, although still quiet for the rest of their time in the smithy’s Hyrule. 

 Collectively, they agree to abandon the escape training. If they want tips, they’ll go to Twilight, but the emotional toll taken on both the vet and the captain isn’t worth it to any of them. Not a second time. Not when they all regret the first one. 

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Have you heard? Disney is making another Lion king, but this time, it's a prequel, and it's going to be about Mufasa's backstory. Which i think it's very interesting. i'm open to seeing how they're going to show/represent the movie. Even though it's coming out of nowhere? A prequel after all these years?

I've also seen a lot of criticism about the movie, even though it's not even out yet. A lot of fans are disappointed that Mufasa and Scar/Taka (interesting how they're using "Taka" instead of "Scar") are no longer blood related brothers, but instead, both are orphans which doesn't make much sense since in the original Lion king Mufasa comes from a lineage of royalty and gives Simba a speech talking about “great kings” and “let me tell you what my father told me” I'm open to new ideas and stuff but i don't know how to feel about it. Maybe it’s the nostalgia? This honestly feels like a cheap cash grab, and seeing how Disney has had quality control issues lately, it's either going to be a flop or not.

I'm just HOPING that they're NOT going down the "misunderstood villain arc" because I've had enough of it. if they’re going for the "Mufasa was adopted and usurper who took Scar's rightful place at the throne! Showing that Scar was right all along."

What do you think?

Oh, I’ve heard of it! I’m not that interested in watching though. I’ll probably just wait for it to come out while praying that TWST gives us free stuff in a promotional campaign and listen to some commentary or review channels give their takes.

According to Wikipedia, Mufasa: The Lion King is supposed to be a sequel to the 2019 live action adaptation, not the original 1994 animated film. The prequel film was confirmed in September of 2020, which isn’t that long after The Lion King live action movie came out. They’ve been steadily releasing new information about Mufasa, such as voice cast reveals in 2021, 2022, and April 2024. It was officially announced and title dropped in 2022 during the D23 Expo. It’s possible that the film took longer to make due to the pandemic and worker’s strikes that occurred between 2020 and now.

On the Scar/Taka thing, I believe “Taka” (I’ve also seen “Askari” in some sources) is Scar’s given name and “Scar” is a nickname Mufasa gave him following an incident in which Taka was as tricked and attacked by other animals, which was the origin of his scar. This information comes from The Lion Guard (a series I haven’t watched myself; this is what I was told by a friend who has). If Scar is being called “Taka” in Mufasa (and assuming The Lion Guard is canon), then that means Mufasa must take place prior to the brothers’ relationship souring and him getting his signature scar.

I watched the trailer and… the phrasing is quite odd??? Now Mufasa is “a lion born without a drop of nobility in his blood”. That implies he and Scar aren’t blood-related. In real life, that makes sense since it’s usually the strongest lion that leads the pack rather than the eldest. Scar has a line where he says Mufasa got the brawn whereas he got the brains, so it sort of supports this idea. However, making it so that Mufasa and Scar are unrelated orphans within the Lion King universe doesn’t make sense if you hold that up next to the already established lore. They imply multiple times that Scar lost his claim to the throne when Simba, Mufasa’s blood-related son, was born to succeed him. So royal blood of the king is important??? The only way Scar could take over was to eliminate those in Mufasa’s lineage. It’s possible that Mufasa’s speech to Simba about the “great kings” and his own father could be in reverence or to show love for his adopted dad or pack…? But that makes those scenes a lot less impactful. Additionally, part of the reason why Scar’s actions are so evil is because he committed fratricide. He turned against his own blood brother, then manipulated his nephew, whom he also shares blood with, into taking the blame. There’s something very visceral and cold-blooded about that—plus it adds to the Hamlet parallels.

Seeing as Mufasa is the titular character, I don’t think they’ll go down the route of intentionally making him the bad guy to Scar. Disney’s so shy about making its main characters morally grey or just bad people… though like you said, they might do it unintentionally because by writing Mufasa as an orphan, that means he’s an illegitimate ruler… meaning Simba is an illegitimate heir… meaning Scar killed/deceived those with no claim to the throne, so actually Scar was not in the wrong at all 💀 But technically it wouldn’t be Scar’s right to rule anyway because he’s not of royal blood either (since you said he's apparently also an orphan? I did not see this mentioned in the trailer though)??? Unless Scar is the one from a royal lineage and everyone else is just dead???

I think it’s still possible that we get something tragic between the two; blood does not determine everything. Mufasa and Taka could form a genuine brotherly bond that later falls apart. It doesn’t really make up for the retconning of current lore, but who knows 😂 maybe they’ll pull some of their old magic out and actually write a story that makes sense to lead into The Lion King. I’m not going to hold my breath though, the live action movies have never been that good to me 💦 I’m going to let the movie come out and speak for itself before I make any real judgments on its quality, as I don’t believe in jumping the gun (even given previous track records).

I wonder what this new movie’s lore would mean for TWST… Since Tamashina Mina was very inspired by The Lion Guard, that means (depending on how the film goes) Mufasa’s events could be retroactively integrated into TWST history?? It’s not a guarantee, but just something to consider.

[myromanempiree]

Why don't we separate Elain from the ship wars? Whenever I type in Elain in the tags its always 'Elain x Azriel' 'Elain x Lucien'

How about. Just Elain. The gardener. The seer. Elain who deserves the title Kingslayer just as much as Nesta. What about that?

But Lucien and Azriel have tags separate from Elain and Gwyn. I feel like the only thing people post about Elain are shipwar related.

Drop and give me essays about how Elain is truly the main reason why they won the war against Hybern. I wanna see that.

And don't give me the; 'oh we don't have a lot of information about her 😩' BOO HOO, SPECULATE IT THE WAY YOU DO ELUCIEN AND ELRIEL. GIVE US SOMETHING TO WORK WITH.

[cr-noble-writes]

Title: Argonauts Series: Odyssey Fandom: Mass Effect Rating: Explicit Characters: Alex Shepard, ME1 Ensemble, Aria T'Loak, Minah Atruzea Relationships: mShenko Tags: ME1 timeline, minor character death, canon typical violence, nightmares, male Shepard, Sole Survivor Shepard, custom background, paragade Shepard

Summary: Alex Shepard, his crew, and the quest to find Saren Arterius.

Chapter Summary: Alex has an interesting informant, Garrus really doesn't like pigeons, and Tali is a badass.

Start at the Beginning Read Latest Chapter

Excerpt:

“So, what exactly are we doing here, sir?” Williams asks, drawing Kaidan’s attention away from the panorama of viewports.

Shepard carries himself differently out of uniform. He moves more casually, his shoulders looser and his steps slower. His usual impassive expression remains, but it’s different in a way Kaidan can’t quite put a finger on. Even the way his clothes—a loose, lavender linen shirt and gray linen trousers—hang on his frame make him seem less imposing.

“Digging,” he replies, turning toward Williams with a sigh. His eyes sweep across her and Kaidan, and his nose wrinkles slightly. “Any chance you two could stop looking like off-duty Marines for five minutes?”

Kaidan raises an eyebrow. He’s about as casual as he can get in jeans, a t-shirt, and a pair of sneakers that have definitely seen better days. Williams is similarly dressed, though her clothes are brand new. “We are off-duty Marines.”

Williams snorts and crosses her arms over her chest. “What exactly is wrong with the way I look?”

“You look like authority,” Shepard says. “Authority will scare off the best source of information we’ve got.”

Kaidan glances over at Williams, and she shrugs. “Okay, how do you suggest we look less ‘like authority’?”

“Loosen up, maybe slouch a little. Stop scanning the room like you’re looking for threats.” Shepard pauses, fingers tapping lightly against his thigh. “Maybe try untucking your t-shirt, Alenko. Resist the urge to stop them from picking pockets. Do not, under any circumstances, call me sir.”

“Whatever you say, sir,” Williams snarks, earning an impressive glare from Shepard. She rolls her shoulders and relaxes her posture somewhat, but she can’t seem to keep her eyes from darting around the Concourse.

Kaidan follows suit, untucking his shirt and shoving his hands in his pockets. He takes a deep breath and lets his shoulders drop. “Lead the way, Shepard.”

He gives them another once over and nods. “Could use some work, but that’s definitely better.”

Shepard turns on his heel and heads for the nearest staircase. Kaidan trails a little behind next to Williams. He turns to her and says, “Who do you think his source is?”

“Hell if I know, LT,” she whispers. “You’ve known him longer than I have.”

Kaidan laughs quietly. “Only by a few days. I know as much about him as you do.”

“Guess we’re learning together, then.” Williams grins. “You still look like an off-duty Marine to me.”

“At least I look like I’m off duty.”