#it was like. he was fully into the emotional depth & it was like he understood everything her music stood for & all of the lyrical meanings

[szariahwroteit]

Doll House: A Jude Bellingham + Original Character Erotic Series

18+ Minors DNI

Chapter 5

Tori allowed a day to slip by following the night of the party. Although her mind was tethered to Jude, the reason for her journey to Dubai, she needed a moment to gather her thoughts and find some clarity amidst the whirlwind of emotions swirling within her. The vibrant city stretched out around her, but she felt the need to pause, breathe, and reflect.

However, the next morning, Jude woke up with a newfound determination. There was only one day left of the year, and while he didn’t care for resolutions or using the start of the calendar year to try and implement change, he refused to go into the new year existing in such an awkward space with Tori. They were so new that Jude wouldn’t call what they were amid growing pains, but he knew it was a hurdle they had to get over together if they wanted to be in each other’s lives.

He understood how daunting his life may have seemed and how sought after he was by women, but he also needed Tori to understand that it was her he wanted.

As one of the most heavily documented footballers of the current generation with a star power that only seemed to be going from strength 

to strength, women came in droves, but having options didn't mean much when there was already someone in his line of sight. 

Slipping on his sneakers, Jude stood from his seat on the edge of his plush hotel bed, grabbing his phone and wallet before stepping out of his suite. 

Letting out a breath he'd been holding, Jude made his way towards Tori’s room, his palms clammy despite the coolness of the hotel corridor. 

She'd texted him around an hour prior letting Jude know she was awake, but that had been their first interaction since the night of the party in his teammate's hotel suite. 

She’d spent the day before ignoring every call and message he sent her, only reading them before closing out of the chat. 

Although it wasn't in Jude’s intentions to hurt her, he was man enough to acknowledge how careless he'd been and as possessive and ego-driven as it may have sounded, it wasn't until he saw Tpri with Alex that he fully realized the error of his actions. 

To even see her standing beside another man made Jude’s skin crawl and adding insult to injury Alex had an arrogance about him that Jude didn't care for at all. 

With each step towards Tori's room, Jude's heart raced. The sound of his footsteps echoed softly in the quiet corridor, mirroring the internal chaos brewing within him. He thought back to the moment he recognized his feelings for her—how genuine her laughter was, how her eyes sparkled with excitement, and how she brought a sense of warmth into his otherwise chaotic life.

Reaching her door, he paused, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. He wanted to be honest, to lay everything out on the table, but he also didn't want to come off as desperate or overbearing. He had to strike a balance between vulnerability and strength. 

Before he could second-guess himself, he knocked gently. A few moments passed, and just as he was about to knock again, the door swung open, revealing Tori. She looked beautiful, her hair tousled messy bun and her eyes slightly puffy from sleep. There was a hint of surprise etched on her face, but it quickly faded into an unreadable expression.

“Hey,” Jude said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Can we talk?”

Tori hesitated but then stepped aside to let him in. The air was thick with unspoken words as he entered the room. She stood a few feet away, her arms crossed defensively over her chest as if shielding herself from whatever was about to transpire.

“I should have been more considerate of your feelings, I should have been more attentive and the last thing I want is for you to feel as if I’m just dragging you along for the ride.” Jude took a deep breath, searching for the right words to convey the depth of his emotions. 

“I know I messed up. But I also can't ignore the fact that I feel like you're holding back or anticipating me fucking up,” he continued. 

“I’m not waiting for you to fuck up, Jude I have no idea what I’m doing,” Tori attempted to explain. 

Jude took a step closer, his desire to bridge the gap between them almost palpable. “Then help me understand,” he urged, his voice softer now. “Because I want to be around you.”

Tori looked into Jude’s eyes, searching for answers, for reassurance, for something to break the tension that clung to the room like a thick fog. His sincerity was evident, yet doubt still clouded her thoughts. “The world is yours to do as you please with, the other night made me realize that and it's unfair of me to expect you to change anything about your world because I'm uncomfortable.”

They’d only known each other a few short weeks, but those weeks had been a whirlwind of emotions and unpredictability. Everything that had happened between them thus far has stemmed from impulse and raw attraction to one another, but eventually, they had to be real with themselves and for Tori; this was that. 

“I get that, Tori,” Jude replied, his voice steady despite internally trying to keep his frustration at bay. “But just because I can do something doesn't mean I will, I have self-control.” 

“I never said you didn't,” Tori shot back, a flicker of defiance in her eyes. 

“That’s what it feels like you're getting at.” Jude leaned in slightly, trying to gauge her reaction. “You’re implying that my lifestyle somehow dictates what I should want, or who I should be. But that's not the case, not with you. I need you to see that.” 

The charged atmosphere hung between them, heavy with expectation. Tori took a deep breath, the fight in her eyes softening momentarily as she considered his words. “I just don’t want to end up being another woman in your life, Jude. I want to matter to you—not just because I’m a different kind of distraction.” 

Jude shook his head firmly, his expression earnest. “You already do matter to me. You’re not a distraction. Being with you feels real, and that’s what terrifies me and excites me all at once. I want to make this work, but I need you to meet me halfway.” 

Tori dropped her arms, the defensiveness slowly peeling away. The vulnerability in Jude's eyes tugged at her heart. She could feel the sincerity of his desire, how he was trying to carve out a space for both of them amidst a storm of external pressures. 

“Halfway…” she murmured, the thought lingering in the air. 

“Yes,” he urged. “Let’s be honest with each other. I won’t pretend that it’s easy for either of us, especially with my world. But if you’re willing to try then I'm here.”

Tori felt a knot in her stomach loosen just a bit with Jude's words. They felt genuine, the kind of honesty that could either lead to something beautiful—or something painful. But she wanted to lay down her fears, to strip away the layers of uncertainty that had built up between them. “I want to try too,” she said finally, her voice steadying. “But I need you to understand where I’m coming from. I can’t just dive in without knowing if we’re on the same page.” 

Jude nodded, his expression softening. “Tell me what you need to know.” 

Taking a deep breath, Tori plunged into vulnerability, the words tumbling out. “I just need you to see with me. I'm not asking for constant reassurance, I just want to know that we’re exploring this together, to understand what we both want.”

Jude took a moment to process her words, his heart swelling with the weight of her honesty. “Tori, I want you,” he said firmly.

“If by chance that changes, please just—” Before Tori could complete her thought, Jude swiftly moved forward, enveloping her in his embrace. His arms wrapped securely around her, pulling her close as his lips crashed against hers, the intensity of the kiss catching her off guard. It was a fierce, passionate connection, igniting a spark that surged between them.

Tori felt herself melt into Jude, losing track of the worries that had weighed so heavily on her mind just moments before. The kiss was all-consuming, filling the room with a warmth that pushed away all thoughts of uncertainty. She could taste the determination in his kiss, the promise of sincerity that lingered in the air around them.

As they pulled apart slightly, she could feel Jude's heart beating against her chest, a rhythm that matched the unrest of emotions swirling within her. He looked down at her, his eyes dark and intense, searching her expression for any sign of hesitation. 

“I won't change my world, Tori,” he said quietly, his voice just above a whisper, “but I want to invite you into it. I need you to trust me.”

Tori nodded slowly, grappling with the flood of emotions rushing through her. Fear, exhilaration, longing—it was all entangled within her, but she found solace in Jude's presence. “I want to trust you, Jude,” she admitted, looking up at him, “I just need to know that you see me.”

He stepped back slightly but kept his hands on her arms, grounding her. “I see you,” he insisted, his voice sincere.

“Then can you kiss me again?” Jude's lips curled into a smirk, a playful glint sparking in his eyes at her request. He took a step closer again, his grip on her arms tightening just a fraction before he gently tilted her chin up. The air between them felt electric, charged with an undeniable chemistry that had been simmering since they first met.

“Are you sure?” he teased, though the sincerity in his tone was evident. He wanted to ensure that she was ready for whatever this connection could bring—because he certainly was.

With a soft breath, Tori nodded, her heart racing in anticipation. The nervousness in her stomach began to dissipate, replaced with an exhilarating rush that accompanied Jude’s every movement. He leaned closer, his breath warming her skin, and then his lips met hers once more in a slow, deliberate kiss.

It started gentle, a tentative exploration, a soft brush of lips that spoke of longing. But as the kiss deepened, it morphed into something more urgent and impassioned. Jude’s hands found their way to her waist, lifting her so he could carry her over to the bed. 

Tori couldn't help but giggle as Jude positioned himself above her, his strong hands framing her face. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against her skin, and gently captured the delicate curve of her neck between his teeth, sending a shiver down her spine. The playful intimacy of the moment filled the air with a charged tension that made her heart race.

“All I want is to make you smile,” Jude murmured against her skin, his right hand moving from beside her head to grip her hip holding her in place. 

“I think you do a good job most of the time,” Tori smirked, reaching up to run her fingers through Jude’s coils as she looked into his eyes. 

“Most of the time?” he repeated in mock offence. 

“Most of the time,” Tori confirmed. “For example when you're at parties receiving lap dances, I'm not too hot on you,” she said, making Jude frown playfully before pushing his face back into the crease of her neck. 

“Okay, I deserve that one,” Jude admitted, his voice muffled against her skin. He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against hers, their breaths mingling in the intimate space between them. “But, can I make you moan?” he asked, a playful challenge dancing in his eyes.

Tori's breath hitched, her heart racing at the sudden turn of the conversation. The boldness in his question sent heat pooling in her stomach, igniting an undeniable desire within her. She met his gaze, searching for sincerity among the playful banter, and found it. Jude wasn’t just teasing; he genuinely wanted to know.

“Depends on how you plan to do it,” she shot back, teasingly raising an eyebrow, her confidence blossoming in the aftermath of their heightened emotions.

“I want to taste you,” Jude whispered hotly into her ear. 

“Is that so?” she replied, her voice sultry, laced with intrigue as she arched an eyebrow, daring him to make his move. 

“Absolutely,” Jude affirmed, his confidence unwavering. He shifted his weight ever so slightly, his body pressing closer to hers. “Let me show you how I plan to make you moan.”

With that, he trailed his lips down the side of her neck, savouring the taste of her skin as his hand reached between them to pull apart her robe, cupping her breast. Tori gasped, every nerve in her body igniting under his caress. The sensation was rousing, the promise of what was to come sending spirals of desire coursing through her.

“Jude,” she breathed the warmth of his mouth on her skin, sending a tingle down her spine. 

“Relax,” he breathed out, his lips and tongue continuing their exploration, trailing lower, sending waves of pleasure shooting through her. His fingers danced over her soft skin, igniting a fire that made her pulse quicken.

“Just let me enjoy you,” he murmured, his breath hot against her as he settled between her legs, raising her left leg to come and rest over her shoulder so she lay completely exposed to him, the space around them fading into a blur of colour and sound, leaving only the two of them.

Tori let out a breathless moan as Jude pressed an open-mouthed kiss against her pussy, groaning as he got his first taste of her on his tongue. 

The sensation rocked through Tori like a bolt of lightning, her body instinctively responding to the warmth and pressure of his mouth. She gasped as he explored her with slow, deliberate movements, his tongue dancing over her sensitive folds, teasing her in a way that made her forget everything else around them.

Jude’s eyes flicked up to meet with hers as she felt his lips spread into a smile against her before he went to work on her.

Tori’s hand reached up to cover her mouth as a means of silencing her moans as Jude feasted on her pussy, his skin slippery against hers from a combination of his saliva and her arousal. 

The sounds that came from his ministrations were lewd, he sucked and slurped on Tori as her back arched from the bed completely intoxicated by her. 

Her senses were overwhelmed, the way Jude's mouth moved with expert preciseness sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body. The air was electric with tension, the intensity of their connection radiating like a wildfire, each gasp she stifled only fueling the fire within. As her breath hitched, her fingers tightened in his hair, guiding him closer, craving more of the intoxicating sensations he created. Every flick of his tongue sent her spiralling deeper into ecstasy, and at that moment, nothing else mattered but the connection they shared, lost in a world of indulgent pleasure.

“You have such a pretty pussy,” Jude groaned, leaning back a little to make room so he could use his thumbs to spread her open, gathering saliva on the end of his tongue before allowing it to drip from his mouth onto her. 

Tori gasped softly at the improper compliment, a rush of heat flooding her cheeks and spreading lower, intensifying the throbbing ache between her thighs.

"Take it," she managed to murmur, her voice breathy and laced with desire.

As if to emphasize her point, Tori's hips tilted upward, offering herself to him more fully. The cool air kissed her damp folds, a stark contrast to the burning heat of Jude's gaze as he took in the sight of her splayed out before him.

"Please," she whimpered, the word escaping her lips before she could stop it. Her fingers tightened in his hair, not quite demanding, but urging him to continue.

At that moment, Tori felt wild, uninhibited, and completely surrendered to the sensations coursing through her body as she watched Jude stand from the bed to remove his clothes before grabbing his wallet and retrieving a condom from it.

“I want you inside of me,” Tori's eyes fluttered open, meeting Jude's gaze with an intensity that stole his breath away. "Please Jude," she whispered, her voice rough with need. "I want to feel you inside me."

She reached for him, her fingers trailing down his chest, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “You’re so beautiful," she murmured, her voice slightly deepening with desire.

Tori's hips lifted off the bed, a silent invitation, an offering of her body and soul. Her legs spread wider, a clear display of her readiness, her need for him.

"Take me," she breathed, the words both a plea and a command. "Make me yours."

In that moment, Tori was lost to everything except the fire burning within her, the aching void that only Jude could fill. She needed him with an intensity that consumed her, obliterating any remnants of doubt or hesitation.

Crawling on top of her petite and slender, yet dangerously curvaceous body Jude led with his tongue as parted her lips so she could taste herself. 

As Jude's tongue parted Tori's lips, she moaned softly, the taste of her own arousal mingling with the unique flavour of Jude. It was a heady combination, one that sent a fresh wave of desire crashing through her body.

Tori's arms wrapped around Jude's neck, pulling him closer as she deepened the kiss. Her tongue danced with his, exploring every inch of his mouth with a fervour that matched the intensity of their earlier passion.

Lost in the heat of the moment, Tori arched her back, pressing her body flush against Jude's. She could feel every contour of his muscular frame, the hard planes of his chest rubbing against the soft swells of her breasts.

The friction of their bodies moving together stoked the fire within Tori, her skin tingling with anticipation. She needed more, craved the feel of Jude's hands on her body, his touch igniting a trail of sparks wherever he caressed her.

Their bodies undulated together, a sensual dance fueled by primal need. Tori's hands explored Jude's back, her fingers tracing the contours of his muscles, marvelling at the strength that lay beneath his skin.

Jude groaned against her lips, the sound muffled by their kiss. His hands roamed her body, skimming over the dip of her waist, and the flare of her hips, before coming to rest on the soft curves of her ass. 

With a firm squeeze, Jude lifted Tori's hips, angling them so that he could slide into her with one smooth thrust. The sensation was indescribable, a perfect reunion of flesh on flesh that left them both gasping for breath.

“Tori, you feel fucking perfect,” Jude groaned into the crease of her neck, his hand slipping from her to wrap around her thighs and pin her to the bed beneath him. 

Jude had never considered himself a man with sadistic tendencies, but where sex with Tori was concerned; she possessed an innocence he wanted to ruin and protect all at once. 

She was so submissive to pleasure, both giving and receiving and all he wanted to do was explore that—explore her. 

Tori's body arched into Jude's touch, a soft gasp escaping her lips as he filled her completely. The sensation was overwhelming, bordering on painful in its intensity, yet Tori welcomed it, craving more.

"Ah!" Tori let out a throaty cry as Jude slammed deep into her, the sudden fullness stealing her breath. "God, yes! Fuck me harder, Jude!"

Tori's nails raked down Jude's back, her fingers digging into his skin as she urged him on. Her hips bucked against his, meeting each of his thrusts with equal fervour, driving them both closer to the brink of ecstasy. 

"You're so fucking tight," Jude grunted, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "So good, baby." Tori's head fell back against the pillows, her dark hair fanning out around her like a halo.

“Get on top, I want to watch your beautiful little body while you ride me,” Jude continued, raising his head so he could look into her eyes. 

Tori hesitated, her eyes widening slightly at his request for a change in position. She wasn't used to taking the lead in the bedroom, preferring to let him guide her. 

But there was something about Jude's command, the way he looked at her with such raw desire, that made her want to please him, to give him exactly what he wanted.

Slowly, carefully, Tori manoeuvred herself into a straddling position, her knees on either side of Jude's hips. She could feel the heat of his body, the hard length of him pressing against her core, and it sent a shiver of anticipation through her.

As Tori lowered herself onto Jude's cock, she couldn't help but moan softly at the sensation of being filled, stretched, and consumed by him. Her walls clenched around him as if trying to keep him inside her, never to let him go.

Tori’s mouth fell open in a silent cry, her eyes locking with Jude’s as he raised his hips beneath her, the head of his cock kissing firmly against her cervix. 

A rush of sensations flooded Tori’s body, the fullness igniting every nerve ending as she gasped at the invasive, yet welcomed pressure. Jude’s intense gaze held hers captive, the heat of his desire reflecting back at her like flames in a hearth. 

“Fuck, you feel unbelievable,” he rasped, thrusting gently as he pushed deeper, each subtle movement sending electric jolts of pleasure cascading through her. Tori arched her back, her hard nipples brushing against his chest, intuitively wanting more of him, more of this exquisite connection.

“More,” she urged, her voice barely a whisper, heavy with longing. “Please, Jude... I need it.”

A predacious grin spread across his face, and without a moment’s hesitation, he complied. Placing a hand on the back of her neck and the other on the small of her back, pulling her body flush against his. 

With a powerful roll of his hips, Jude drove deeper, claiming her in a way that turned her breath into a string of frantic gasps. The rhythmic motion filled the space between them with an intoxicating harmony that made her pulse race. Tori’s body melted against his, surrendering to the waves of pleasure that rippled through her, echoing with each thrust.

“Jude, you're so deep,” she moaned, her voice weak with desire as the sensation overwhelmed her. It felt as if he were reaching into her very soul, each movement igniting a fire that blazed hotter with every stroke.

“Look at me,” he growled his words lacking in diction as his hand on the back of her neck came to wrap around her throat, easing her body to sit up some so he could look into her eyes as he rounded his hips into Tori, fucking her incredibly deep. 

Tori’s heart raced, the combination of his grip and his commanding gaze sending shivers of exhilaration down her spine. She loved this side of him, the way he took charge, the way his need matched her own. The space around them faded, leaving only the two of them tangled in a whirlwind of heat and desire.

“Jude…” she breathed, her voice trembling as she leaned into his touch, craving both his possession and his passion. The intensity of his stare felt almost tangible, wrapping around her and binding them in this moment of unadulterated pleasure.

“Tell me how it feels,” he urged, his voice low and rough, sending a thrill of excitement coursing through her veins.

It took Tori a moment to gather her thoughts, to articulate the overwhelming sensations crashing through her. “It’s... so much,” she managed, her breath hitching as he ground deeper inside her, every thrust perfectly timed to lift her closer to the edge. “It’s everything, Jude. Just—just don’t stop.”

His eyes burned with a mix of ownership and satisfaction, and he revelled in her response as if her words were his own personal high. He adjusted his angle, hitting a spot that sent a wave of pleasure washing over her, causing her to arch into him. 

“Don’t ever second guess how fucking perfect you are,” Jude growled, his voice deep and resonant, filled with raw need. He intensified his pace, each thrust resonating through her as he delved deeper, pushing her closer to the brink. The heat between them crackled, an electric current that sparked at every point of contact, igniting every sense.

Tori’s breath quickened, each inhaling a desperate gasp for air as if the sheer force of their connection threatened to overwhelm her lungs. 

“Oh god, Jude… yes,” she cried, her back arching further, urging him on. It was as if his every touch had created a symphony within her—a melody of pleasure that coursed through her veins, building to a crescendo that she could almost taste.

“Feel how much I want you,” Jude painted, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice as he quickened the rhythm. His hands roamed her body, exploring every curve, every contour, as though he wanted to memorize her completely.

Finally settling his hands on her hips as he bit down on his bottom lip, Jude’s brow furrowed as his gaze fixed on Tori's glossy brown eyes as she gave herself to him. 

The connection between them deepened with every thrust, a magnetic pull that transcended the physical realm. Tori felt exhilarated and vulnerable all at once, ensnared in a dance of ecstasy that made her skin tingle and her heart race. Jude’s gaze burned into her, the depth of his desire setting her aflame from within.

“You’re everything I want,” he murmured, his breath hot against her ear as he quickened his rhythm, driving them both higher.

As Tori’s eyelids heavy with lust slid shut, she felt a singular tear of unadulterated pleasure roll down her cheek, a physical testament to the overwhelming sensations coursing through her body. Every thrust from Jude felt like a promise, each powerful movement igniting more than just her body; it deepened their bond, drawing them closer together as though they were the only two souls in existence.

“Jude,” she gasped, opening her eyes to meet him once more, searching for some kind of guidance. Her body was his, even if only for the moment. 

“Let go,” he urged, his voice a heated whisper as he captured her gaze, anchoring her in the depth of their connection. Tori felt as if he was unravelling her from the inside out, his words wrapping around her heart like a warm embrace. The trust between them intensified the experience, elevating every sensation beyond the physical.

“Just you and me,” he said, his breath heavy with need. “Nothing else matters right now.” With those words, he thrust deeper, asserting that claim within her, pushing her to places she had never dreamed of reaching.

Tori managed a nod, her voice lost in the tumult of pleasure. She surrendered completely to the moment, allowing the waves of ecstasy to wash over her. The rhythm between them grew urgent, a fierce manifestation of their shared longing, building in intensity with every tide.

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” Jude groaned, his hands tightening possessively around her hips as he lost himself in her. The pressure building within her was electric, every pulse of pleasure drawing her closer to that swirling vortex of release. 

“Jude, I—I can’t hold on much longer,” she warned, her words whisper-soft amidst the gasps and moans echoing through the room. 

“Good,” he encouraged with a primal growl, his eyes darkened with lust. “Let it go, Tori. I want to feel you cum on me.” 

With each powerful thrust, he pushed her closer to that edge, his rhythm relentless, a beautiful pinnacle that made everything else fade into oblivion. Tori’s body responded instinctively, tightening around him as if seeking to pull him even deeper.

“Jude!” she cried out, feeling the pleasure tighten into a coil, ready to unravel. He pressed on, relentless in his pursuit, his voice a seductive growl that wrapped around her heart. 

“Just let it happen, Tori. Feel all of me,” he coached his hands firmly gripping her hips as he tilted his hips into her, making sure she felt every last pulsing inch.

The intensity of their connection reached a fever pitch, each thrust adding fuel to the fires that roared within her. Tori could feel the overwhelming waves of pleasure crashing over her, a tsunami she couldn’t hope to hold back any longer. Every nerve in her body tingled with need, each pulse syncopated with Jude’s movement, forging a bond between them.

“Just like that!” she gasped, her words melting into moans, expressing the bliss that swelled within her. Every inch of her became attuned to his rhythm, and she relished the dance of their bodies—the slick sliding sensation that came with each thrust, their shared breaths mingling in the charged air.

Tori’s fingers tangled in his hair as she leaned forward, wanting to feel every part of him pressing against her. “I’m so close,” she confessed, her voice breathless and laced with desperation. The heat radiating from his body set her ablaze, igniting a fire that refused to be quenched.

“Cum for me,” he commanded, his voice raw with desire, pushing her to the brink. His hands gripped her tighter, anchoring her as he thrust deep, each movement driving her closer to the edge she was so desperately in pursuit of.

Tori's body quaked above him, the tension coiling tighter and tighter. She could barely string words together, lost in the depths of her pleasure. “Jude, I can’t… I—”

“Give it to me,” he urged, his strained as he felt his end nearing. “Please, Tori.” The desperation in his voice pushed her over the edge, that insistent tone igniting the last spark of her restraint.  

With one final thrust, Jude buried himself deep inside her, and Tori felt the world swirl around her. The coil of pleasure snapped, sending shockwaves coursing through her body as her orgasm shattered every thought, every worry, leaving only raw ecstasy in its wake. Waves of pleasure rippled through her, overwhelming her senses, and she forgot everything except the intoxicating rhythm of their bodies entwined.

“Jude!” She cried out, her voice hoarse as she let herself fall into that abyss of pleasure, riding the crest of the wave as it crashed over her. Every muscle in her body tightened, and she felt herself pulsing around him, tightening and pulsing in the throes of her release.

“That’s it, baby,” he grunted, his own body responding instinctively to the feel of her climax. With each tightening clench of her walls around him, Jude lost himself completely, the warmth of her body drawing him into a well of bliss. 

He felt his release building, the intensity of her orgasm pushing him over the edge. “I’m right there with you,” he groaned, his breath coming in ragged gasps. 

Tori locked her gaze on his, their breaths mingling as they rode the waves together. The connection between them deepened with each pulse, each beat of their hearts echoing in time. 

“Jude!” she gasped, as another wave washed over her, pulling him along in its wake, and then, as if their bodies were synchronized, he delved deep into her, stilling as he poured himself into the condom he wore. 

“Fuck, Tori!” he cried out, the sensation of her wrapping around him perfectly driving him over the edge as his cock filled her completely.

As the remains of their orgasms gradually faded, Tori collapsed against Jude, panting against his chest, both of them lost in a cocoon of warmth and satisfaction. Her heart raced, still thumping with remnants of pleasure as she felt Jude’s arms wrap around her, holding her close.

After a few moments of blissful silence, Tori began to regain consciousness of her surroundings, the warm afterglow of their passion enveloping her like a cozy blanket. The city outside was bustling with life, but inside the room, time felt suspended, a private moment shared between just the two of them. Tori would have been content to lie there forever, nestled against him, but a sudden wave of apprehension washed over her. 

Jude, sensing her shift in mood, tightened his grip around her. "What are you thinking?" he asked softly, his voice low as he stroked her hair, pulling her even closer. 

“Not much,” she mumbled, nestling deeper against the warmth of his chest. The contentment surrounding them was intoxicating, even as a flicker of reality started to seep back in. 

“I was thinking about taking you shopping today,” Jude suggested, a teasing lilt in his voice, his fingers gently grazing back and forth over the small of her back. “I want to spoil you a little.”

“Spoil me?” she asked teasingly, tilting her head to look up at him.

“Yes,” he replied, a charming grin spreading across his face. “So you can get dressed up for me tonight while we bring in the New Year.”

Not only was it a chance to spoil her and in turn feed his ego, but there was also something about the act, the quality time spent that seemed rather intimate to him. 

“What would you like to see me in?” Tori asked with a smirk as she sat up, her breast round and perky as she straddled Jude’s lap. 

Jude's gaze darkened with desire as he took in the sight of her sitting on him, her body radiating confidence and allure. “Honestly? I like you in absolutely nothing, but a dress would be more fitting considering our plans for tonight,” he replied, his voice low and gravelly.

Tori felt her cheeks flush at his words, the compliment igniting a warmth within her. “What are our plans for tonight?” she asked, her breath deepening as Jude’s hands came to rest on her hips. 

“Dinner and then a New Year's Eve party at the marina,” he explained, his dark eyes locking onto hers, filled with anticipation. “And you have my word no lap dances will be taking place,” he smirked, earning a laugh and playful punch to the bicep from Tori. 

When they finally pulled themselves from the bed, Tori made her way into the bathroom to get ready as Jude went to leave her hotel room and head back to his own. 

As he pulled open the door of Tori’s room, he noticed Alex walking towards him, dressed in a suit similar to the one he wore the night of the party when he comforted Tori. 

Instead of saying anything, Jude offered Alex a knowing smirk, his body still humming for the passionate encounter he just had with Victoria. 

Making his way back to his room, Jude changed clothes and alerted his security guard of his plans to leave the hotel with Tori. 

As he dressed, Jude felt a sense of anticipation bubbling within him. The thought of taking Tori shopping, of sharing the day with her, filled him with excitement. He couldn't wait to see her in something stunning for the New Year’s Eve party, something that would make her stand out and remind everyone—especially Alex—who she belonged to.

Once he was ready, Jude stepped out of his suite and made his way down the corridor to Tori's room. He knocked, his heart racing again at the thought of seeing her. The door swung open, and Tori stood there, looking radiant despite the casual outfit she wore. A fitted black top hugged her frame, paired with high-waisted jeans that accentuated her curves perfectly.

“Tori,” Jude spoke up, his voice laced with genuine admiration. “You look incredible.”

Tori smiled shyly, a light blush creeping onto her cheeks. “Thanks. I figured I’d keep it simple for shopping,” she said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Simple? You look anything but,” Jude replied, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. “Come here,” he instructed. 

Tori’s heart fluttered at the command in his voice, and she took a small step toward him, curiosity lighting up her eyes. Jude reached out, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close. 

Tori’s breath hitched in her throat as Jude pressed a kiss against her plump lips, his hands slipping down to caress her backside as he walked her backwards into the nearest wall. 

His mouth moved against hers with a hot intensity, igniting a fire within Tori that she couldn’t ignore. She thawed into him, her body responding instinctively as he deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring the warmth of her mouth. 

“We need to leave or I'm going to end up fucking the shit out of you in this entryway,” Jude groaned against her lips, a teasing smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. Tori couldn't help but laugh softly, the tension of the previous days melting away in this moment of intimacy.

“Then we should hurry,” she replied, her voice playful, yet filled with a thrill of excitement. She stepped back, breaking the embrace just enough to catch her breath and regain her composure. Looking into Jude's eyes, she felt an undeniable connection, one that made her heart race and her stomach flutter.

Jude gave her a lopsided grin, clearly enjoying her reaction. “Shopping first, party later.”

Tori grinned, her excitement bubbling to the surface as she took Jude's hand, guiding him toward the door. “Lead the way then,” she said, her voice playful.

[chronicdelusionistsart]

So I have been watching Danny Phantom for the first time ever with my friends and I'd kind of previously known about its reputation as a show whose fanbase dives a lot more into the lore than the show is willing to. And I guess I hadn't really understood why until now (I just finished Season 2!). Here's my sort of rambling thoughts on it.

Danny Phantom isn't a show about the horror of ghosts and the dead coexisting in the human realm. It's a show about dropping the most out of pocket lore implications you can imagine on people who in turn say things that would kill a therapist dead equally out of pocket, and then neither are addressed but the watcher has to live with the ghost of the plot that is right behind them but they can't turn around.

DP is a little hit and miss in places, but the very thing that drives people nuts about it is actually I think maybe its greatest strength: it really pulls off show, don't tell effectively. How much of that is intentional is up for debate, but the best episodes kinda leave you wondering, or sputtering like "UH, HEY, BACK UP - HEY BACK UP AND UNPACK THAT -" Is Danny's human body technically alive somehow, or is he a walking corpse? Does Danny have a door in the Ghost Zone? Were Vlad's clones feeling and sentient as they melted into ectoplasm, despite Danny's guess that they weren't? What does it say about Danny that he still erased his parents' memories after finding out they'd accept him as he is?

I think the genius of not answering these questions directly is that it's both funnier AND scarier not to. We can laugh about how fucked up it is and kinda hold our heads like "bro.... did they really just imply that, holy shiiiiiit", and that's really consistent with the emotional core of the show as this knife's-edge dance between teen comedy and horror superhero. Fully explaining the lore or being more direct about how the information is conveyed by and to the characters tips that balance and changes the show into something else, for better or for worse. And I really earnestly like it as it is, even if it's very of its time (sexism.......)! It's a really fun show with some depth to it.

Anyway, I can't wait to watch season 3! I sure hope all these wonderful qualities I like about it hold up!

[tojisun]

i want simon to love you so strongly, he doesn't even know what exactly it is he's feeling.

it is so intense, he cannot even sleep nor eat nor sit in silence anymore. you plague his thoughts day in and day out, filling every second of his day with this vitriolic turmoil.

the first time he realized it was not a passing feeling, simon felt the desire to...lash out, somehow. to get angry. to come to you and snarl questions—what have you done to me?—because he knows that this wouldn't have happened if he never met you. if your paths just never crossed.

if simon was just never interested.

he should have known, then, that his fleeting interest would turn into something bigger than he is, twisting into something that he cannot manage because simon has always been quick to get addicted to many things—ferocious in his hunger, gums twitching with need.

simon still does not know how to take everything in moderation so he’s turned to snuffing out his desires; to containing them until they sit there, buried underneath his ribs and flesh.

but this one with you cannot be buried. it cannot be ignored. it grows every single day, swelling with fangs and tearing into his veins—he bleeds for you, every morning that he climbs from the depths of his raging restlessness—until he is left feeling lost. untethered.

so tell him: what have you done to him?

(the words do not even get to fully leave his mouth, not with his emotions bubbling into strings that pull at him.

next thing he knows is that he has pushed you against the wall, and claimed your lips in a feverish kiss.

simon devours the sounds you make—every hiccupped breath, every gasped out mewl, every stutter of his name. he devours it all because it is all he can gulp from you for now; the sweetness of your passion weaves with his own, and he is dizzy with his affections.

you don't tell him to stop, instead, you beg him for more; crystals of your tears cling to your lashes, and simon is in awe of how much softer you are compared to him. how tender you truly are, all putty in his arms, sniffling with your uncontainable pleasure. with your own raging feelings.

simon feels seen, like this with you. he feels understood.)

[faggotswag]

did i tell u guys my dad is a daughter of cain.

[henley-reeves]

People have said many times how Fourteenth Doctor is so much more open with feelings and emotions than Ten. But it is especially huge when it comes to Donna specifically. Ten was so reserved and held back so much when it came to expressing feelings and voicing them, that his companions never fully understood how much they meant to him. Ten was very flawed and very HUMAN and while he had so much love in him, he was equally afraid to express it, show it unabashedly. Did Donna ever truly understand how much he loved her? Did he ever tell her how much she meant to him on screen? When Ten knew he was losing Donna, and she was about to disappear in front of him, he knew this was his last moment with her, and the best he could do while she was conscious is hold her at arm’s length and tell her “We had the best of times”. You could see he was dying inside and this moment is killing him but he NEVER SHOWS it to her. While it’s all in his eyes, Ten still doesn’t tell her anything that would have an emotional weight or reveal the whole depth of his feelings.

Ten kept all his feelings bottled so deep inside, that when they finally started to bleed out, he made the worst mistakes possible. It ended up killing him. And the breaking point was losing Donna. He carried so much guilt over the way he lost her and the way he let her, his best friend in the whole wide universe, down, that it echoed over to the next regenerations, in Eleven’s guilt and Twelve’s face. That scene in the TARDIS in “Let’s Kill Hitler” where Eleven is poisoned, and the TARDIS is showing him images of former companions when Eleven asks “Give me guilt”. The TARDIS shows him Martha first, and there is so much to be guilty about when it comes to Martha, and then Eleven asks for “also guilt”, and the TARDIS shows him Donna, and when Eleven asks for “more guilt”, the image doesn’t change. It is still Donna, TARDIS is showing Eleven the best friend who got let down so hard by the Doctor. And the Doctor still carries that guilt and regret and heartbreak with him, because he loved his best friend and her attachment to him almost got her killed and hurt her in the worst way possible. “Stand too close, and people get burnt”, just like Martha said.

Fourteen though. He is a completely different person. He doesn’t just love Donna, he ADORES her, he is here FOR HER, this face is here BECAUSE OF HER. He tells a complete stranger he just met that he loves his best friend Donna, and repeats it twice.

When Donna honestly asks who would care about her 'cause she thinks she is just no one, Fourteen angrily  cries “I DO!”  because that’s his brilliant and amazing best friend who after all these years still thinks so little of herself and he hadn’t been there to remind her of that, and it is all his fault that she doesn’t remember how fantastic and special and extraordinary she has always been and how many times her brilliance saved worlds and lives, including the Doctor’s.

Fourteen is crying and screaming and breaking down, when he thinks Donna is about to die in front of him, all because he is so afraid of losing her again. Fourteen cradles Donna’s body and cries when he thinks he had lost her and tells the Meep’s soldiers to kill him, because he doesn’t care anymore, because someone he loves so dearly is dead in his arms, and it is all his fault.

When Donna gets her memories back, Fourteen almost immediately confesses how losing her KILLED HIM and how he remembers every second with her. He tearfully confesses that he has missed her for all those years they were apart, it’s been millions of years they spent apart for the Doctor. All those years the Doctor needed Donna who would make him laugh again, Donna who would keep him grounded, Donna who would call him spaceman and silently hug him when he needed it the most, Donna who would understand and be there and be his touchstone and anchor and guiding light.

Fourteen knows that she can’t stay with him forever like she used to want to, but he still gives her both of his hearts and tells her how much he cherishes their time together. He offers her coffee just the way she likes it, he remembers such small details about her after literally thousands, millions of years! And he shows it to her. Fourteen is so full of love and he is not afraid to show it, he is rushing to love, to express it before Donna is gone from his life again. And he is trying to make up for all those years as Ten when he couldn’t say these things to Donna, and she never knew just how much she meant to him. Donna never knew that she was his soulmate, that her presence made such an impact and her absence led to Ten’s death and that he died saving her grandad.

Fourteen kisses Donna’s hands and hair and hugs her like she is the most precious thing he knows. His hugs are also different from Ten’s. Fourteen wraps himself around Donna and holds her tight, this is how he shows his affection. He wants Donna to hear, know AND feel how much he cares. Because he already knows what it’s like to lose her and he wants her to know in case he has to let her go forever again.

When there is a threat of the world ending and his wonderful selfless Donna once again stresses that it is not about her, the Doctor solemnly replies that it really is. Because here right now in mortal danger he is willing to put her first and thinks of her wellbeing before anything else, because Donna Noble means the world to him.

Fourteen loves Donna so much, that he is willing to stay with her forever, staying still is not so bad when it’s with her. Fourteen is so tired and weary and bruised and exhausted but when he looks into Donna’s eyes, he doesn’t feel so tired anymore.

Fourteen got Ten’s face because he needed rest, but also maybe, just maybe, because Ten didn’t want to go so badly that he broke through and got the chance to come back so he could have another chance, to have a life and be with his best friend again and come home. Fourteen was born out of love that Ten had for Donna. And that love (and the TARDIS) brought him right to Donna’s doorstep, so he can hear her call him spaceman again and have the best of times for as long as they live and have a laugh with his family in their shared garden and find out what it’s like to be happy. Fourteen gives his love so openly and freely and he gets to receive it too, he gets to bask in it and revel in it. He finally gets the reward Ten was dreaming about.

[kotoku]

the touden party with an innkeeper! reader

synopsis - The Touden party was not an unfamiliar name to you due to the gossip other parties shared amongst themselves about the siblings and their oddball group. However, you thought the gossip was a bit over dramatic, finding them to be quite the pleasant guests whenever they visited your inn. 

Overtime, you got sucked into their stories from the dungeon floors and even heard how they prepped monster food. Although they weren’t the most normal party you have ever seen, you grew a tight bond with each party member.

pairings - laios x reader / chilchuck x reader / marcille x reader / senshi & reader / izutsumi & reader

warnings - characters may be ooc..

“You guys were able to eat living armor!? That’s so weird but cool!” 

“I know right! You’d think they were inedible, but they actually have a type of mollusk in them!--” 

“--I’ll make sure to bring some up next time so I can show you how we cooked it!”

“Really!? I look forward to tasting it!”

✤✤✤✤

✢ You grew curious of the leader of the Touden party, often finding yourself spending more time with him after dinner to talk about different things

✢ He was so full of personality that you couldn’t help but get drawn in to him– cooking his favorite meals, indulging in his monster facts, and helping him think of different ways some monsters could be cooked

✢ The stories he shared from his encounters in the dungeon often left you wondering, what would it be like if you were part of his party? (You would shake your head to rid of those thoughts, fully knowing that you would be useless if it came to fighting/supporting)

✢ When you heard of Falin’s disappearance and his ambitions, you were distraught yet worried for his well-being– what if he didn’t succeed?

✢ A small part of you wanted to discourage him from the idea, for what if it would be all for nothing? Yet, the larger part of you had hope that he could do it, so you offered your support for him and his party if it meant ensuring their well-being (before they head off)

✢ Considering that they usually spend weeks in the dungeon, you’d often daydream about the tall blond whenever you did your chores

✢ People would catch you lost in the clouds, so you’d quickly become embarrassed when someone would say something

✢ When the time comes for their expected return, you had already set up each room accordingly and prepared a meal for all of them 

 ✢ At some point, when Laios returns, you’d leave a small note and a gift for the man confessing your feelings (he finds it on the bed and thought that you had forgotten it when cleaning it)

✢ Needless to say, Laios wouldn’t be able to look at you, face turning a pretty pink when he’s reminded of your feelings for him

✢ Of course, he expresses his own thoughts and emotions in his own way, so it’d take some time before he approaches you with a determined gleam in his eyes 

✢ In his eyes, he believes that you would make a wonderful partner, your caring attitude making him feel all the more fuzzy

✢ Expect him to be spending a lot of time with you during his stays, as he knows that eventually he’ll have to return back to the dungeon depths

✢ At some point, Laios requests that he sleeps in your room during his stays, which you happily oblige

✢ Whenever he comes back from the dungeon, he always has a gift for you (whether it’s some sort of relic, flower/plant, or ingredient that you two could experiment with)

✢ Eventually, Laios would love to settle down with you after he has gotten his sister back 

“My party members are all idiots, _____.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just look at them! sigh I’ll take another round of ale.”

“Ehh– they seem fine to me, but whatever you say, Chil.”

✤✤✤✤

✢ When you first met Chilchuck.. he was quite the hot-headed yet reliable person, always complaining about certain events that happened during their dungeon run (You hear a lot about his party members lol)

✢ Over time, you understood his behavior and could see that despite his mean words and actions, he really did care for his friends

✢ You really admired his stern yet caring nature, always scolding those closest to him with good intentions

✢ Chilchuck didn’t really give you much attention at first, only treating you with basic human decency

✢ But the more his party stayed at your inn, the more he began to make light conversations with you, slowly evolving into deep and meaningful discussions that would last into the early hours of the morning

✢ He starts appreciating your presence more and more with each visit, offering to help you make dinner, chatting with you as you both cleaned the dishes… It felt rather intimate, doing this domestic things with you

✢ When Chilchuck notices that he’s developing feelings for you, he’s overcome with fear and anxiety 

✢ He wanted to avoid the potential heartbreak, for he knew all too well what it felt like when he and his wife divorced 

✢ Despite his sudden distancing and coldness, you’d probably corner him one night to confront him about his recent behavior

✢ Chilchuck’s resolve would soon crumble, explaining his recent actions and confessing his feelings for you with a downcast gaze (He doesn’t expect you to reciprocate)

✢ To his surprise, you do! 

✢ Chilchuck would definitely come around more often whenever he has the free time, helping you around the inn and recounting recent events that happened while they were exploring the deeper levels of the dungeon…

✢ You’re quite familiar with his alcoholism, always being there to take care of him when he’s had a little too much to drink…

✢ He can be quite clingy while drunk, so expect to be his body pillow for the next 8 hours

✢ When he plans to open up his shop, you’re there to support him while also taking care of the inn (Maybe the two could go hand in hand…)

“_____! I can’t wait to taste your cooking, it’ll be the first normal meal I’ve ever had in weeks!”

“I'm sure Senshi’s cooking makes the monster ingredients seem more digestible, Marci.”

“NO IT DOESN’T!!”

✤✤✤✤

✢ Marcille always made you chuckle to yourself at her expressive attitude, always openly displaying her dislike or favor towards something

✢ She was easy to read at times, her heart always on her sleeve 

✢ She was a pleasant guest to have at your inn, always offering help when it seemed like you needed it but you could never put a guest to work

✢ Yet you always find yourself choked up, unable to say ‘no’ to her offers…

✢ You make sure that her room has things that you know she would like, her previous visits providing you experience

✢ Whenever Marcille comes back from the dungeon, she always pulls you into a hug and cries about how happy she is to eat your home cooked meals again

✢ When you both have free time, she is happy to recount the events from the dungeon and is willing to teach you simple spells (that may prove beneficial since you run the inn)

✢ If you were ever to accidentally nick yourself when cutting a vegetable (or get hurt in general), she’d be there to help cast a healing spell on you

✢ You take note of her motherly behavior, especially with the way she is around Izutsumi 

✢ Compliment her, and you’ll get a bashful Marci who tries to play it off (but deep down she’s internally screaming)

✢ She’s never afraid to show you her affectionate and doting side, always picking up things from the dungeon floors to give to you

✢ She absolutely refuses to introduce you to monster food.

✢ If you were to confess your feelings for her one night after dinner, she’d sputter and almost let the plate slip out of her hand, catching it quickly so it doesn’t break into tiny pieces

✢ Eventually, she would recompose herself and give you her own thoughts and emotions, concluding it with a flustered glance and a smile 

✢ She could almost feel her heart bursting out of her chest at your confession, feeling as if she were going to faint on the spot

✢ Nonetheless, she’s really happy and would always look forward to her return to the surface 

“Welcome back! You brought the ingredients, Senshi?”

“Sure did, ready to start cookin’?”

“You bet!”

✤✤✤✤

✢ Senshi was such a pleasant surprise when he suddenly popped into your inn with the Touden party

✢ You’ve never seen the man before, but his amazing beard and mustache are enough to capture your eye (They look very fluffy!)

✢ You learn from him the adventures that the group had faced, as well as the different meals they had in the dungeon

✢ Hearing of the ingredients he used had left you fascinated, wondering just how he was able to make use of such.. exotic creatures

✢ You would honestly take notes as he explains, always butting in with your own questions which he’s happy to answer 

✢ You always learn something new from him everyday.. hm…

✢ Despite you being a responsible adult, he would still see you as a youngin’, always making sure that you’re taking care of yourself as well (and not just your guests)

✢ The two of you slowly develop a fatherly relationship, with Senshi helping you cook, clean, and take care of his party members

✢ You’re truly grateful for his help but tell him that he doesn’t need to go through all the trouble, which he declines and continues about his business anyway

✢ If you wanted to try a specific monster, he’d happily cook it for you and the party one night at the inn

✢ Senshi admires your hard working spirit, always giving you his thanks and compliments

✢ He would rarely stay at the inn and instead stay within the dungeon, but he wouldn’t mind stopping by every now and then, especially with his party

✢ It’s always a joy having Senshi around, and he thinks the same for you

“How have you been, Izutsumi? Anything interesting in the dungeon?”

“..Nah, it was pretty lame for the most part… But at least I got into some action!”

“Hmm? Tell me more about it at dinner! I cooked your favorite.”

✤✤✤✤

✢ At first, Izutsumi was.. reclusive

✢ Always keeping to herself and only interacting with those if she needs to, but she was a bit different when it came to her party members

✢ You noticed how she seemed to have opened up to her fellow members, speaking her mind and becoming much more expressive

✢ She didn’t say much to you at first, but over time, she slowly began to warm up to you

✢ Despite her openly making conversation with you whenever she comes back from the dungeon (or whatever it is that she’s doing), she still keeps her distance just a bit

✢ You’re determined to get to know her, but you’ll never force her to do something she wouldn’t like

✢ You are aware of her table mannerisms and pickiness, yet you don’t mind, always finding a meal that she would enjoy 

✢ Eventually her table mannerisms would get better with the help of you and her party members

✢ You never cared much for the fact that she was a beastkin, instead welcoming her with open arms to the inn when she first came

✢ Sometimes you would find her room a mess, some scratches lingering on the desk or drawers.. you’d give her a small scolding later

✢ Izutsumi honestly sees you as her mother/older sister figure, always doting and caring for her even if she didn’t want it (She’ll never tell you)

✢ At one point she probably called you ‘mom’ by accident, immediately running back to her room to hide away from you for the rest of the day until dinner comes around

✢ She has her walls built up around her but they eventually begin to crumble the more she talks with you over dinner or at night when she can’t sleep

✢ Depending on how she’s feeling, she’d be interested in your history and why you continue to manage this inn, seeing it as a boring job

✢ Izutsumi comes to understand you after a while, and eventually when she returns back to the surface, she finds herself anticipating your presence and meals

[estapa-edwards]

Rempe & reader cuddles?

CUDDLES - M. REMPE

paring: Matt Rempe x reader

word count: 700

requested? yes

warnings: use of y/n.

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

The sun had just dipped below the horizon, casting a golden hue over the living room. You were curled up on the couch, a soft, oversized blanket wrapped around you. The gentle hum of the heater created a cozy atmosphere, and the aroma of freshly brewed tea wafted through the air. You took a deep breath, savoring the peaceful moment.

Just then, the front door creaked open. You looked up to see Matt Rempe, his broad frame filling the doorway. He wore a warm, endearing smile, his eyes lighting up as they met yours.

"Hey there," he said softly, kicking off his shoes and shrugging off his jacket.

"Hey," you replied, your heart swelling with affection. Matt's presence always had a way of making everything feel right.

He crossed the room in a few long strides and dropped onto the couch beside you. His strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close. You nuzzled into his chest, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with a hint of pine.

"Long day?" you asked, your voice muffled against his shirt.

"Yeah, but it's all better now that I'm here with you," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

You tilted your head up, your eyes meeting his. The warmth in his gaze made you feel like the luckiest person in the world. "I missed you," you confessed, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest.

"I missed you too," he replied, his voice a tender whisper. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a sweet, lingering kiss. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in this perfect moment.

When the kiss ended, you both settled into a comfortable silence, the only sound the occasional crackle of the heater and the gentle rhythm of your breathing. Matt's fingers brushed through your hair, soothing and calming.

"You know," he began, his voice a low rumble, "I've been thinking about how lucky I am to have you."

You looked up, surprised. "Really? What brought that on?"

He chuckled softly. "Just… everything. Your smile, your laugh, the way you make me feel like I can conquer the world. You're my everything."

Your heart melted at his words. "Matt," you whispered, tears of happiness welling up in your eyes. "You mean everything to me too."

He tightened his hold on you, his embrace conveying a depth of emotion words couldn't fully capture. You felt safe and cherished in his arms, like nothing could ever harm you.

As the evening wore on, you both continued to talk about your days, sharing little details and inside jokes that only the two of you understood. Matt's deep laughter filled the room, a sound that always brought a smile to your face.

At one point, he shifted, laying down on the couch and pulling you with him. You ended up nestled against his side, your head resting on his shoulder. His hand continued to stroke your hair, his touch gentle and soothing.

"I love this," you murmured, your eyes fluttering closed.

"Me too," he replied, his voice a soft rumble in your ear. "I could stay like this forever."

You smiled, feeling a deep sense of contentment. "That sounds perfect."

The night grew darker outside, but inside, everything was warm and bright. You and Matt continued to hold each other, the world outside forgotten. His presence was a constant source of comfort and joy, a reminder that no matter what challenges you faced, you would always have each other.

As the minutes turned into hours, you felt yourself drifting off to sleep. Matt's steady heartbeat and the rise and fall of his chest were the perfect lullaby. Just before you slipped into unconsciousness, you heard him whisper, "I love you."

"I love you too," you mumbled, your words slurred with sleep.

You felt him press another kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment. "Sweet dreams, my love," he whispered.

With those words, you finally surrendered to sleep, your heart full and your mind at peace. In Matt's arms, you knew you had found your home, and there was no place you'd rather be.

[waitingtobreatheagain]

One of my favorite parts of the argument outside the Modiste scene is one although it starts harsh/angry…it becomes vulnerable and communicative very quickly. This is due to the core of their relationship. They are each other’s favorite person. No one understands the other more or in the way they do. Even through the hurt, the love is so so apparent.

It is a great example of how anger is a secondary emotion and in this case the primary emotion are emotions related to feeling emotionally hurt.

People say all they had was miscommunication and that is absolutely not true. You wanted them to be all good in five seconds and that was never going to be the case. Two weeks to process what felt like a betrayal, work through it, and work through your own insecurities that could impact your relationship in the future is NO SMALL THING. Not to mention, Colin repeatedly shows his love even in his anger hurt and confusion.

My absolute favorite thing about the scene (and proof of them still having good conversation even while being on the outs) is Colin doing something that Eloise never did. He actually asks Penelope WHY she wrote what she wrote. Even in feeling his most hurt, he seeks understanding. He knows Pen better than anyone (as she does him) and he really needs to identify how and why his most favorite person in the world, the love of his life, could do this. After discussing it, he is still upset which again is fair but he does understand and knows that she is still who he has always know her to be.

To be vulnerable when you’re hurt instead of hurtful also so emotional maturity. Yes, we know their first time seeing each other after the reveal he says something hurtful but he immediately regrets it which is made evident by Luke Newton’s skill in facial expression. He even asks Pen’s questions which she agrees with and identifies why she couldn’t do those things back when she wrote about specific things (I.E. “why didn’t you just tell me to my face” “I know I should have I didn’t have the confidence to then”).

And the part where we see his insecurity about his writing skill and the biggest insecurity being deserving of her on full display. Colin has grown up feeling as if he has to be so many things for so many people to be able to feel worthy. Just being himself has never felt like enough so it makes complete sense that he cannot honestly fathom that his favorite person…the love of his life…loves him simply for being him. That’s beyond belief for him. That is why the “what good am I to you, then (if I can’t protect you) and Pen’s response of I love you is so important. We see Pen’s face go from on guard, defensive, and some indignation to soft and empathetic. She is truly seeing the insecurity and similarly to how Colin couldn’t believe that Pen had no chance of romance when she asked him to kiss her…Pen can’t believe that Colin thinks he can only be loved by her if he is in service of her or has utility. His reaction to her I love you also support Colin is demisexual theories. The affirmation that she does not need him to protect her or do all these things for her and instead just has to be the man she loves is the catalyst for the passion and desire we see him kiss her with afterwards As to say, that’s right. This is the only relationship in my life where I am able to fully be myself, where I am loved for who I am, where I am uplifted, understood, seen, and valued based on my true self not based on who society says I should be, where my vulnerability and emotional intelligence is seen as a strength and not a deficit, etc.

That is so beautiful to me.

This goes back to why for me Polin will always be the pinnacle. The depth of their relationship following years of friends especially as they got closer sets up how they work through conflicts. There are so many parallels when looking at Colin helping Pen work through her insecurity with her confidence and appearance and Pen helping Colin work through his insecurity with self doubt and feeling deserving/worthy of his love.

Truly, a love that is a beautiful as it is rare.

[satoruxx]

who do you think would be more devoted, satoru, suguru or shoko?

oh em gee hi nonnie :333 it's been a milennia since i got a sashisu ask so i'm VERY sorry for the novel !!

well.... i think they all have their moments but most devoted would probably be suguru. AND I WILL EXPLAIN WHY !!!!

i just think suguru tends to be very selfish when it comes to love. not like.. in a bad way... but to him love means that he has already given himself to you completely. he expects it to be understood that his love runs so deep he physically cannot fathom letting you go. suguru has always been extremely loyal to what's his—whether that be his morals or his friends. i think he puts a lot of value into making connections. so for him, when it comes to love, i think he would be very steadfast in it—often finding it difficult to disentangle himself from those emotions. and i feel like that depth is what makes him the most likely to become obsessive over devotion. (like... cult leader suguru would become so fixated on the idea of devoting himself to you that it can start becoming almost parasitic) basically, suguru could absolutely devote himself completely to you, and in a normal relationship that translates into extreme and fierce loyalty. but any kind of toxic or twisted dynamic and that's turning obsessive and probably too emotionally dependent.

satoru is definitely devoted but in a very generous way. he can love you so deeply but be alright with letting you go. to him, that's the biggest act of love he can commit. he sees a lot of drawbacks in letting you be with him, so he would much rather devote himself from afar and let you live a life he probably cannot give you. in other words, his emotional investment in you may not always come across as fully attentive because his perception of dedication can be too focused on what he deems is best. satoru's devotion plays on a fine line between his loyalty to you and his loyalty to his own ideas. he has such a strong connection to his own ideals that once he perceives something, he will always do what he feels is best in that situation. the problem is that might not be the most pleasant thing for you—but if he thinks you're better off with someone else he will let you go. (see i don't think suguru would be able to do that. suguru will never be able to give you up.)

shoko's devotion is the most subtle, but i think it would be the most stable. it might take her a while to get to that stage (i don't think it's as easy for her to fall into obsession compared to the other two) but she will be dedicated to you. shoko may not be the most expressive, but she is the most emotionally grounded. she has always shown consistent loyalty to things she values, so i think her devotion to you would be dependable and pretty nurturing. i also think she has a very mature perspective on her relationship with you, and she'd be more concerned with creating and maintaining that bond. so basically... i think she'd be the most consistently devoted if that makes sense.

so yeah, suguru is the most intensely devoted, but his devotion is easy to become entangled with other emotions. satoru is devoted, but it's more external. he tends to do things for you that he feels is right. and shoko is the devoted in the most stable way.

[hxltic]

this one might get me cancelled but i gotta get it off my chest.

Kristoff is big and strong— everybody knows that. But with that said, he’s an amazing person in general, very in touch with his emotions and going above and beyond for who he loves.

Sweet as pie, both beauty and braun, the snow clings to his bright blonde hair, reddening his cheeks to an embarrassing shade that he’s grown accustomed to.

godDAMN is he fine. No amount of imagery can do him justice. And I just know that with his acts of service love language, there isn’t a thing he wouldn’t be on his knees for if you desired it.

He manhandles you in bed. He manhandles you with everything. He grabs you, and his hands are delicate, careful not to break and shatter you everywhere as if you were sharp ice, but still lifting your weight effortlessly. It’s what he’s been doing all his life.

He’s a big, warm, man, and so are his kisses. One hand rests at your nape, the other wrapped around your back to pull you close. His sensitive skin is flushed, per usual, indicative of the growing hardness in front of you, but he doesn’t seem to care as he curls his head to reach deeper into your mouth.

And once you get farther into what you’re doing he’s tending to more than just your lips. He’s finding spots that make you squirm with a gentle finger ghosting your clit through your leggings, sucking in your whines desperately.

I don’t even have to go into depth about the way he eats pussy. Once you get past the first time, he’s a quick learner. Whole face is down when he devours you, not caring that your thighs are squeezing his cheeks and ears, licking and sucking with his eyes closed like there just isn’t anything that can pull him away. The tip of his nose glistens. You’re twisting and turning but instead of holding you down, he focuses on the task at hand and follows wherever you lead his head.

And when you finally take him out, you find that his length matches the rest of him. Only a few shades darker of a pink at the tip, wide in your hands, thick all the way around and the pale skin smooth. He’s sitting on the bed looking down at you sheepishly.

Running a hand down his red face, he goes, “Hey, you don’t have to do that,” not knowing what to hold onto— the sheets, your shoulders, or your hair. Even though you’re just repaying the favor he’s still so so sweet, telling you that you don’t have to despite the tangy aftertaste of your release still on his tongue.

You’re already wrapping your lips around his head, seemingly ignoring him, and rotating your hands along the shaft. “Oh God,” he groans, slightly squirming, not entirely knowing what to do, or rather, what boundaries to push.

Fast forward to when he’s on the verge of painting your face, finally with his hands resting gently in your hair, asking what he should do. But he’s breathing so heavily, and speaking so frantically, and trying to hold back from absolutely exploding, that with his fat cock in your mouth, you honestly have no idea what the hell is going on.

“Shit shit shit, baby where? Where can I- oh fuck,” his head tips back, but nothing happens yet. Somehow, he prayed to everything he loves that he wouldn’t come without an answer first. “Tell me, please,” he pleads quickly, out of breath.

You’re basically edging him with the way you have no response. It’s a mission that you’re programmed into now, consistently bobbing your head and allowing saliva to fall from your lips to trickle to his full balls. Then finally, your answer is “im ma mmph,” and Kristoff fully understood what it meant. Or if he didn’t, oops.

He outwardly groans as you splutter and take in the new warmth. His eyes are shut tight as he hisses at the feeling, cursing into the air and gripping your hair tight but careful not to pull.

Then you pop off, mouth covered in a mix of you, him, and everything in between. You blink up at him with those pretty, wet eyes. There’s a giant, devious smile on your face, and you use his knees to haul yourself up so you can see him eye-to-eye.

He stares back, eyes low but illuminating with afterglow. And when you beg, “please?” without even saying to what, he knows exactly what it is, and he also knows that he’s completely and utterly fucked.

He roughly grabs you by your underarms and switches your positions on the bed. He’s determined as he holds under your knees and forces them up when you fall back giggling, coming to hover above you and leaving kisses and marks down your neck. You place your hands to his sides.

In the meantime, he strokes his length a few times, just to remember what it’s like. Then he’s nudging himself along your folds, eyes still closed and nose behind your ear.

Suddenly, he rises above you again. His tip inches in but leaves as quickly as it came, leaving your whine floating in the air and a pout forming on your lips. “Kris,” your eyes close.

“No, I want you to watch it,” he demands, forcing your head up to look. He slips in, the both of you scoping intently, a gasp falling from your lips. His balls must tighten when your big eyes flicker up to him with your mouth agape.

“You feel so good, you don’t even know,” he sighs. And he’s pushing until he’s bottomed out, then retracting with the same motion, just to continue pumping back and forth into the warmth.

He’s so wide that it takes a bit to adjust, but when it does it’s perfect. He leaves no space unfilled. “S’big,” you moan.

There are the blonde’s moments where he is prideful.

“You can take it,” he smirks at you with that smile, kissing your forehead and speeding up to a rougher pace. His large hands come to the dips of your hips.

“Huuuhn, f-fuck,” the force cuts you off, forcing your hands to hold his wrists that grasp you. His large frame is overwhelming.

There’s a focus to his expression, like if he hit you at any wrong angle all of the progress would dissipate. He had absolutely nothing to worry about, but you can see the tenseness in his face. “Feels good, just like that.”

He glances past his hair, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you giggle, which ultimately dissolved into a moan. “Can feel you.”

He removes a hand to place it on your lower belly, looking between his thrusts and your face, “Here?”

As an answer, you throw your head back as far as it will go, groaning at the newfound pleasure. “Yes.”

He could feel himself going in and out, and the pressure had you reeling. It didn’t help that he was consistently hitting that bundle of nerves and activating all your senses at once.

Maintaining the force and speed, he grabs one of your hands and interlocks your fingers, leaving the hand on your tummy there. He comes forward and pushes it up the bed until you’re stretched out, leaving your other hand to have to relocate to his side. He begins to grind slowly. “Ugh, ‘m gonna come,” you whine.

“Go ahead. Wanna feel how tight you wrap around me before you drain me first,” he laughs breathlessly.

It’s only a few more and you’re doing exactly as he said, stilling in the silence of the bed moving and seeing white.

“Oh my god.”

©️ hxltic

[hueningsloverr]

౨ৎ 60 months !

pairing: taehyun x reader summary: a close-knit relationship with taehyun is something to be earned, and you seemed to have done just that. word count: 1.1k extra: have we all gotten over txt world tour? I HAVENT !! go terry fuck it up!! apart of my anniversary series that i accidentally never finished!

taehyun was unlike anyone you had ever met before - and that was saying something considering you knew many people. he was more reserved than others, yet at the same time he was so outgoing.

his duality was what drew you to him initially - how could one person have so many different personalities? then you found out he was an idol, and it made a decent amount of sense. it was apart of his job to act one way on camera and another for the different concepts. when he was off camera he was able to be himself.

what drew taehyun to you was the fact that you studied his behavior; every time he did something that seemed out of line for how he acted that day, you payed great attention to it. it was almost as if you took mental notes on how he acted so you could draw out a map of behavior.

but you’d never fully be able to uncover every last detail about the boy, and he’d never fully know everything about you either.

it was a fact that both of you had come to terms with early on in your friendship, and though at times you seemed displeased by it, you largely accepted the fact.

still, there were moments when you felt an unspoken understanding between the two of you, like you could read each other's thoughts without needing words. taehyun had a way of looking at you, his eyes soft yet probing, as if he were trying to see the depths of your soul. in those moments, the walls he built around himself seemed to crumble, even if just for a second.

as your friendship grew, so did your curiosity. you found yourself wanting to know more about the person behind the stage persona, the real taehyun who laughed at silly jokes and pondered over the mysteries of life.

and he, in turn, seemed equally intrigued by you. your quiet confidence, the way you seemed to observe the world with a discerning eye, fascinated him.

there were late-night conversations that spanned hours, where you shared your dreams, fears, and everything in between. it was during these times that you felt the closest to him, and you cherished these moments more than anything. yet, despite the bond you shared, there was always a part of him that remained elusive, just out of reach.

one evening, after a particularly grueling day of rehearsals, taehyun invited you to the rooftop of the building. the city lights sparkled below, and the night air was cool against your skin. he leaned against the railing, gazing out into the distance.

"you know," he began, his voice barely above a whisper, "sometimes i wonder if anyone truly knows me. not the idol, but the real me."

you turned to him, searching his face for any hint of emotion. "i think people see different parts of you," you said gently. "and maybe that's enough. maybe we're not meant to be fully understood by anyone."

he nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "maybe you're right. but hey, i'm glad i at least have you. you seem to see me in ways others don't."

your heart swelled at his words. it wasn't a grand declaration, but it was enough.

in that moment, you knew that the connection you shared with him was special, even if there were parts of him that remained a mystery.

as the night wore on, you stood there together, comfortable in the silence, knowing that some things were better left unsaid. and that was okay. because sometimes, the beauty of a relationship lies in its complexities, and the unspoken understanding that comes with it.

days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. your bond with taehyun only deepened. you became his confidant, the person he turned to when the pressures of fame became too much. you listened without judgment, offering him a safe space to express his worries and fears.

one evening, after a long day of interviews and photoshoots, taehyun showed up at your door, looking more exhausted than you had ever seen him. without a word, you let him in and led him to the couch. he collapsed onto it, letting out a deep sigh.

"rough day?" you asked softly, sitting down beside him.

he nodded, closing his eyes. "you have no idea. sometimes it feels like i'm being pulled in a thousand different directions, and i can't keep up."

you placed a hand on his shoulder, offering him a comforting squeeze. "you're doing amazing, tyun. it's okay to feel overwhelmed. just remember to take care of yourself too."

he opened his eyes and looked at you, a hint of gratitude in his gaze. "thank you. i seriously don't know what I'd do without you."

you smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "i'm always here for you."

in that moment, you realized just how much taehyun meant to you. he wasn't just a friend; he was someone you cared about deeply, someone you wanted to see happy and thriving. and you knew he felt the same about you.

as time went on, your relationship with him continued to evolve. you attended his concerts, cheering him on from the crowd. you celebrated his successes and comforted him during his lows. and through it all, your bond only grew stronger.

one rainy afternoon, taehyun invited you to his favorite café, a cozy little place tucked away from the bustling city streets. the sound of raindrops tapping against the window created a soothing backdrop as you sipped your coffee.

"i've been thinking a lot lately," taehyun said, breaking the comfortable silence. "about life, about us."

you looked up from your cup, curiosity piqued. "what about us?"

he took a deep breath, his expression serious. "i know we've always said that we can't fully know everything about each other, and i've come to terms with that. but i also think… maybe that's what makes our relationship so special. we keep discovering new things about each other, and it keeps things interesting."

you nodded, understanding where he was coming from. "i know what you mean - it's like we're on this journey, together, and there's always something new."

a small smile played on his lips. "exactly. and i wouldn't want it any other way. "i've been at this for sixty months, you know?" he added, pausing slightly while he tried to formulate the proper words. "and until you i've never met someone who wasn't one of the boys that could even somewhat understand me."

in that moment, you felt a profound sense of contentment. you realized it didn't matter if you knew every last thing about taehyun, simply knowing him in the slightest was enough.

"well, here's to me making sixty months of progress in just a few months." you grinned, raising your coffee cup in a joking manner.

"here's to you - to us."

a/n: finally returning to this series after like 4 months whoopsies

©2024 - all rights reserved to hueningsloverr, please do not plagiarise or translate any of my work

[astarioffsimpmain]

Fluffy one-word prompts: Halsin & touch 😊 thank you 💛

Hiya! Thank you so much for the ask! I looooooooove this prompt, so thank you for sending it in. 🥰

♡♡♡

You were not ill acquainted with physical contact. Before your abduction by the Mindflayers, you had friends and family whose kind touches always left you with a feeling of appreciation and care. You assumed you understood the feeling of being known and loved through touch, but nothing could have prepared you for the depth of emotion that welled up inside of you the first time the Archdruid Halsin pulled you close.

It had been a grueling month, living and fighting in the Shadow Cursed Lands; surviving on hope and strength of will alone. But the curse had been lifted, and you had obtained your first Netherstone in the process, marking a victory in more aspects than one. You breathed a sigh of exhausted relief as you gazed up at the leaves that had begun to fill with life in hues of green, yellow, and red, and sunlight poured over the land in warm and welcoming waves.

Suddenly, you felt arms around you; large, strong, warm. You allowed your eyes to fall closed and smiled. "Halsin." You breathed as he rested his chin against the top of your head.

"You've done it." He murmured reverently.

"No," you replied, turning in his hold to face him and reach to place your hands on his shoulders. "We have done it. We couldn't have possibly done it without you. Please, don't sell yourself so short." Your thumbs traced a path back and forth along his warm skin, and he smiled tenderly, tears beginning to prick at the corners of his eyes. But before they could fully manifest, he surged forward and pulled you up into his embrace, lifting your feet from the ground as he cradled the back of your head to the crook of his neck.

You gasped softly and wrapped your arms around his neck, then settled into the hold. In a single moment, your entire world became Halsin. He surrounded you and filled all of your senses; his strong arms encapsulated you, and his warmth traveled through you until it pierced your very heart, and all of your carefully hidden wounds opened to him. He held you as though you could mend one another's pain if your hearts beat closely enough, and after several shared beats between you, you began to believe that you could.

A choked sob peeled from the back of your throat, and you clung to him like you have never clung to anyone. If he let you go in this moment, you feared you would never recover. Thankfully, his grip on you only tightened, crushing you against him in a way that was all knowing, all loving, all understanding.

You were not ill acquainted with physical contact, but it was only once you met Halsin that you became acquainted with being caressed. You nuzzled closer to him, breathing in his scent, and prayed that you would never have to be without it again.

♡♡♡

No editing or revisions. We die like women with severe brainrot. 💕

Send me a prompt!

[gliphyartfan]

Hiiii, I’m back.

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

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

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

Well no more talk! Only story! Enjoy!

———

——

—

-

"Was dad upset with you today?"

"..."

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

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

And Link, he had simply stood there silently.

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

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

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

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

For many days, Link had been behaving utterly odd.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"This...isn't something I can win.." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Made him behave so strangely. 

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

Finally, he speaks, his voice quiet and defeated.

"I don't know..." 

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

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

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

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

"Why?" Colin couldn't help but ask. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That just made Colin feel worse. 

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

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

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

And Link...

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

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

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

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

——

——

It was familiar enough.

The Bublins charging into the spring. 

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

Uli’s tears and Rusl’s grave face.

The forceful tug into the Twilight.

The agony of his wolf form wrapping around him…

The cell and cuff that bound him in place…

That laughter…that mischievous grin…

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

But…

…

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

He didn’t know how to feel about it…

—-

—-

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

“Why do you continue to fail?”

Link shakes his head, grimacing. 

“I…I don’t…mean to…I-“ 

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

“Again.” 

“…Yes sir…” 

—-

—-

“You have a renewed burden." 

He chose not to reply to the fortune teller. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He scoffs. "Redemption?"

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

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

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

If his Goddess truly existed or not... 

He hoped she never forgave them. 

None of them were worthy of it.

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

He wasn’t worthy of it.

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

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

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

Twilight tensed, his fists squeezing tighter. 

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

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

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

"I won’t hear anymore..." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

—-

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

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

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

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

“Again.” 

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

--

--

"What the hell was that Link?" 

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

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

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

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

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

Midna crosses her arms, her expression skeptical.

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

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

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

He wasn't going to bother correcting her assumptions.

What he suffers through happened long after she was gone. 

...in his memories anyway.

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

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

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

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

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

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

—-

—-

“Again.” 

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

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

“Again.” 

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

 --

 --

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

Beth was still with Colin and Malo had his store. 

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

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

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

Truthfully he had no interest in being here. 

But he had no interest in speaking to Midna either. 

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

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

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

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

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

But he refused to speak to her about it. 

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

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

He...didn't want to be here. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Was he cursed to relive this path over and over? 

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

He just wanted someone to tell him... 

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

—

—

"...just kill me..." 

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

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

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

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

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

He feels empty…

He feels defeated.

—

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Nothing he said was worth focusing on." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Because you never talk to me!" 

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

"You-" 

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

He clenched his hands into tight fists.

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

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

"Link-" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

'Link, focus-"

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

“Hey! Watch it!”

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

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

Midna stays silent, hesitation flickering in her eye. 

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

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

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

"Let go of me..." 

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

"I said let go," he repeats. 

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

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

"Let go of me Midna..." 

"What'll happen if I do?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He wanted this all to be a horrible dream. 

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

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

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

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

…

….

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

..What the hell…

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

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

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

What a situation she landed herself in. 

…

Stuck in a damp dungeon with an unconscious frenzied hero. 

...

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

…

…

“This sucks..” 

—

—

"Again.” 

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

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

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

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

"No I'm not!" 

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

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

The shade said nothing. 

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

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

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

"You are troubled. It clouds your heart." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Link shook away those thoughts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

An indication that he was weak. 

…weak…

…

No…

Nononono..

He couldn't afford to be weak. 

No. Never. 

Not when being weak means losing what matters. 

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

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

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

"What are you doing?!?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And it is your fault.” 

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

The Shade's voice is low and accusatory.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Keep her away from those who would harm. 

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

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

"...I.."

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

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

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

Link's heart races. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Had he truly been so blind..?

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

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

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

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

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

Link says nothing, tears falling down his cheeks.

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

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

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

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

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

Of trust. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

--

.

.

.

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

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

"Hmph, finally awake are we?" 

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

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

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

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

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

Midna's impish features twist into a bitter smirk.

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

He look around, trying to get his bearings. 

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

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

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

"I'll say, you went crazy!" 

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

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

 Link sighs, rubbing his forehead.

To think he'd breakdown like that. 

He really had been running from it all. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"..'We'?" 

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

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

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

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

Or worse, go crazy again. 

Instead, she decides to change tactics.

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

There was a moment of silence. 

“. . .So did you mean to do it?” 

“…H-Huh?” Midna tsk’d. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He blinks slowly at her, making her sigh again.

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

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

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

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

—

—

The shade did not appear in his dreams anymore. 

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

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

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

…(perhaps it was for the best…) 

—

—

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

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

But he simply couldn’t take it anymore 

Everything was too much and too little. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

All he wanted to do was escape it. 

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

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

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

If not his ears, then their very tongues. 

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

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

It pained him. (It scared him.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

. . .

. .

.

(…He could only really hope.)

[hksdlgsyappage]

"A Moment of Silence"

David Rossi x Reader

C: fluff

Summary: You and David Rossi share a quiet, intimate evening at home after one of his tough cases. The weight of his past and the emotional toll of his work have been weighing on him, but with your presence, he finds comfort.

Word count: 740

The apartment was quiet, save for the soft ticking of the clock on the wall. You sat at the kitchen table, a mug of tea cooling in your hands, watching the steam rise in gentle spirals. It was a rare evening at home—one where there was no case to chase, no late-night phone calls, no urgent knocks on the door. Just the two of you, in the calm after the storm that had been Rossi’s latest case.

David Rossi stood by the window, looking out over the city, his profile bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun. The way he carried himself—the quiet strength, the depth of emotion tucked behind those sharp eyes—was something you had come to love about him. But it was also what made being with him a challenge at times. He could be so many things: insightful, loving, protective—but sometimes, he was a man wrapped in his own silence, burdened by things he didn’t always know how to share.

Tonight, he hadn’t said much. You knew better than to push. He wasn’t the kind of man who needed words to express his feelings; he showed them in actions, in quiet gestures. It had taken time for you to understand that.

You took a slow breath, setting your mug down, and stood. Walking over to him, you leaned against the window frame beside him, your presence a gentle question. He didn’t turn to look at you, but he reached out, his hand brushing yours in a silent acknowledgment that you were there. His fingers lingered for a moment, warm and steady, before he spoke, his voice low and measured.

“Some days, I don’t know how much more I can take.” He wasn’t talking about the case—it was more than that. It was the weight of years spent in the field, the lives lost, the pain he carried but never quite showed. You knew this about him, the way he kept it all locked up. It had been a long time since you had seen him so vulnerable, but you also knew it meant he trusted you.

Without hesitation, you reached out, taking his hand in both of yours. “You don’t have to carry it all by yourself, David,” you said softly. “Not anymore.”

His gaze flickered to yours, and for a moment, there was something like relief in his eyes. He squeezed your hand, a silent thank you. There was no need for elaborate words between you two. You understood each other in a way that didn’t need to be spoken aloud. His past—his mistakes, his regrets—were part of who he was. But they didn’t define him. And they didn’t define what the two of you had together.

“I’ve been doing this for so long,” he continued, voice still quiet, but this time with a touch of frustration. “Sometimes, I forget what it’s like to just… live. Without the weight of it all.”

You nodded, understanding completely. “It’s okay to take a break. You don’t always have to be the one to fix everything. And you don’t have to carry it alone.”

He turned fully to face you then, his eyes searching your face for a moment, almost as though weighing your words. His gaze softened, and he took a small step closer to you, the space between you shrinking.

“You’re a good one, you know that?” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, yet full of meaning.

You smiled, your heart warming at the tenderness in his eyes. "I’m not going anywhere," you replied, your voice steady, but with a softness that matched the moment. "I’m here, Rossi. For the quiet moments and the hard ones, too."

He took another step closer, his body almost pressing against yours now. His hand reached up, gently cupping your face, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek. His touch was so warm, so familiar, and you felt your breath catch as you stared into his eyes.

In that moment, everything seemed to fall away—the weight of the day, the world outside, the unsaid things that lingered between you. It was just the two of you, together in the quiet, surrounded by nothing but each other’s presence.

Without breaking eye contact, Rossi leaned in slowly, as if asking for permission. You closed the small distance between you, your lips meeting his in a soft, tender kiss. The kiss was slow, deliberate—like he was savoring the moment, like he was giving you a piece of the peace he so rarely let himself have.

When he pulled back just a fraction, his forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with yours. He was still, but his hand on your cheek was steady, grounding you both in the moment.

“I needed that,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I needed you.”

You smiled, your heart full as you ran your fingers through his hair. "You have me, David. Always."

For a moment, neither of you said anything more. There was no need. The world outside could wait. All that mattered was that, for now, you had each other.

And that was enough.

[pdriesta]

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“even when it’s bad, i love you”

pairing — trentxblack!girl

genre — angst, angst and more angst

word count —10k

summary — y/n and trent's once strong relationship is strained by his growing distance and her unexpected pregnancy. as they clash over their future, y/n faces the painful choice of leaving behind the love and they love they worked so hard creating. will they overcome their struggles and rebuild their love, or will their fractured bond break beyond repair?

an — the end!! thank you for all the support on this journey. this chapter is dear to me because even though it may seem repetitive, deals with postpartum. this is my most emotional in-depth series and over the last four months, i have loved every second. if you're interested in y/n, trent and their little family's lives i have released a blurb series and the first one can be read here!

masterlist

the drive home from the hospital felt like a dream, one that y/n couldn’t fully process through the haze of exhaustion and the strange, hollow ache left in her body. it wasn’t just physical—the soreness from giving birth, the emptiness where her babies had been, and the sheer exhaustion from hours that had stretched into days. it was also something deeper, something that pulled at her heart in a way she had never felt before. she leaned back against the seat, watching as trent carefully placed the twins in their car seats, his hands moving with a tenderness that brought tears to her eyes. he adjusted their tiny blankets, double-checked every strap, and then looked at her with a soft smile that made her chest ache.

“you okay, baby?” he asked, his voice warm but laced with concern.

y/n nodded weakly, unable to form words. instead, she reached out and squeezed his hand. “i’m okay,” she whispered, her voice cracking slightly.

trent helped her into the back seat, insisting she sit between the babies. “just to keep an eye on them,” he said with a grin, though she knew he’d checked their car seats about five times already.

as he started the car, she turned to look at the tiny bundles on either side of her. their faces were so small, so impossibly perfect, and even though her body screamed for rest, she couldn’t tear her eyes away. every little movement—the flutter of an eyelid, the twitch of a hand—felt monumental. she reached out, her fingers lightly brushing the soft fabric of their hats, and a wave of emotion hit her so hard it almost knocked the breath out of her.

she had never known love like this. she had thought she understood it when she fell for trent, thought she had reached the depths of it when she said “yes” to building a life with him. but this—this was something else entirely. it was all-consuming, overwhelming, and terrifying in its intensity. she was no longer just herself; she was a mother.

trent drove like he was taking his driving test all over again, hands at ten and two, the car’s speed barely a crawl. every bump in the road made him glance in the rearview mirror, his eyes flickering to her and the babies as if to reassure himself they were all okay. “everything’s good back there?” he asked, his voice calm but tight.

she smiled softly, her hand resting on the edge of one car seat. “you’re doing perfect,” she said, her voice low, trying not to disturb the babies.

when they finally pulled into the driveway, y/n let out a small breath of relief. trent parked and immediately came around to her side, opening the door and offering his hand to help her out. “wait here,” he said gently, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “i’ll get the babies.”

he moved with careful precision, lifting each car seat as if they held the most precious treasure in the world. y/n watched him, her heart swelling with a love so fierce it made her eyes sting. she reached for her bag, but trent stopped her, shaking his head. “don’t worry about a thing. i’ve got it all.”

she followed him slowly, her steps tentative as the ache in her body reminded her of just how much she had been through. trent noticed immediately, setting the car seats down inside the front door and hurrying back to her side. his arm slipped around her waist, his hand warm and steady as he guided her up the steps. “just a little further, love,” he murmured. “you’re almost there.”

when they stepped inside, y/n’s breath caught in her throat. the foyer and living room were transformed. soft banners hung with “welcome home, mama” written in delicate cursive, and balloons floated gently in the corners of the room. a table held a small spread of snacks and drinks, and scattered around were little decorations—tiny baby booties, onesies, and framed photos of their ultrasound pictures. it was simple yet overwhelmingly beautiful.

her hands flew to her mouth as she gasped, her eyes immediately welling with tears. “trent...” she whispered, her voice breaking.

he stood beside her, watching her reaction with a mixture of pride and nervousness. “hey, hey,” he said softly, stepping closer to her. “baby, what’s wrong? do you not like it?”

she shook her head furiously, the tears spilling over as she struggled to find the words. “no, it’s not that,” she managed, her voice trembling. “it’s perfect. it’s just... i feel so... loved. trent, you’ve done so much, and i don’t even know how to say thank you. i’ve never felt anything like this in my life. our life, our family... i never thought i could have this until i met you. and now, with our babies...”

her voice broke completely, and she covered her face with her hands as the sobs overtook her. trent’s arms were around her in an instant, pulling her close and holding her tightly. “hey, shh, it’s okay,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her temple. “you don’t have to thank me, y/n. this is what we do, yeah? we’re a team. and you’re... you’re incredible. you gave me the greatest gift i’ve ever known. you gave me our family.”

she clung to him, her tears soaking into his hoodie as he rocked her gently. “i love you,” she whispered, the words barely audible but heavy with emotion.

trent pulled back just enough to look at her, his hands cupping her face as he wiped her tears with his thumbs. “i love you more than you’ll ever know,” he said, his voice low and steady.

she smiled through her tears, leaning into his touch. “we did it,” she said softly. “we have a family.”

he nodded, his eyes glistening as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “we sure did, mama.”

the soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminated the room in a warm, golden hue. the bassinets were positioned on either side of the bed, each holding one of their newborns, who slept soundly—for now. trent was perched on the edge of the mattress, carefully adjusting the blanket on the baby in his arms, his movements slow and deliberate, as if any sudden motion might disturb the fragile peace.

meanwhile, y/n leaned back against the pillows, one baby nestled against her chest as she nursed. her eyes were heavy with exhaustion, the weight of the day—and the days before it—pressing down on her. still, there was a quiet serenity in the way she gazed at her child, a mix of awe and disbelief etched onto her face.

“i still can’t believe they’re here,” she murmured, her voice soft but tinged with wonder. her fingers brushed against the baby’s tiny hand, marveling at how perfectly formed they were. “i feel like i’m dreaming, like any second now i’ll wake up and they’ll be gone.”

trent looked over at her, his brow furrowing with concern. “baby, they’re not going anywhere,” he said gently. he shifted closer, careful not to jostle the baby in his arms. “this is real. they’re ours.”

y/n’s lips curved into a faint smile, but her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “it’s just… everything feels so overwhelming,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “this time last year, we were on vacation, carefree, just the two of us. now i’m a mum, and it’s like my whole world has shifted.” she paused, her gaze dropping to the baby in her arms. “i didn’t realize there’d be so much to do, even after labor. it’s a lot, trent. it’s a lot.”

trent reached out, placing his free hand on her knee. “hey, it’s okay,” he said, his voice steady and reassuring. “we’ll figure it out together. you don’t have to do this alone. i’ve got you, y/n. always.”

her shoulders relaxed slightly at his words, but the exhaustion in her eyes remained. “i just… i don’t want to mess this up,” she confessed. “i want to be a good mum. they deserve the best.”

trent leaned forward, his dark eyes locking with hers. “baby, you are a good mum,” he said firmly. “look at you. you’re sitting here, exhausted out of your mind, and you’re still putting them first. that’s love, y/n. they’re lucky to have you. and i’m lucky to have you.”

her tears spilled over then, and she laughed softly, shaking her head. “god, my hormones are all over the place,” she said, swiping at her cheeks. “but thank you. i needed to hear that.”

trent leaned over, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “you don’t have to thank me,” he murmured. “i’ll remind you every day if i have to.”

the baby in y/n’s arms began to stir, letting out a soft whimper, and she instinctively adjusted her hold, murmuring soothing words. trent watched her, his heart swelling with pride and affection. “you’re incredible, you know that?” he said quietly. “watching you with them… it’s like seeing the best version of you. not that you weren’t already amazing, but now…” he trailed off, his gaze dropping to the tiny bundle in his arms. “you’ve given me everything, y/n. a family. a love i didn’t think i’d ever deserve.”

y/n reached out, her fingers brushing against his. “you deserve all of it, trent,” she said softly. “and you’ve given me just as much. you stay up with them when they’re sick, even when you’ve got training or a match the next day. you make sure we’re all taken care of. i don’t know how you do it, but… you’re amazing. you’re an amazing dad.”

trent’s lips quirked into a small smile. “is that right?” he teased, his tone lightening. “you hear that, little one?” he said, addressing the baby in his arms. “mama thinks i’m amazing.”

y/n rolled her eyes, but the gesture was fond. “you’re too much,” she said, but there was no heat in her words. she leaned over, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “but i love you. so much.”

“and i love you,” trent replied, his voice soft. he reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. “now, how about we try to get some sleep while we can? i’ll take the next shift if they wake up.”

y/n nodded, but as she settled back against the pillows, her gaze drifted to the bassinets. “i’ll try,” she said, though the way her eyes lingered on their babies suggested otherwise. “but it’s hard. i can’t stop looking at them.”

trent chuckled, leaning back beside her. “same here, love,” he admitted. “they’re perfect, aren’t they?”

“perfect,” y/n agreed, her voice barely above a whisper. and as the quiet hum of the night surrounded them, they stayed like that, their world now centered around the two tiny lives they had created together.

the days had settled into a rhythm, but it was a rhythm forged from chaos. mornings began with a flurry of soft coos and gentle cries that pulled y/n from the edges of sleep, her body still heavy with fatigue. the moment she opened her eyes, she was greeted by the sight of trent, his tousled hair and sleepy smile a comfort against the tumult of parenthood. each day was a whirlwind of feeding schedules, diaper changes, and the endless shuffle of rocking one baby while soothing the other.

rowan and tatum had become the center of their universe, and with each passing day, y/n found herself falling deeper in love with the tiny humans they had created. rowan, with her delicate features and inquisitive eyes, seemed to possess an innate curiosity that drew y/n in. tatum, with his wild hair and mischievous grin, had a knack for finding trouble, even in the simplest moments.

“i swear, these two are going to run us ragged,” trent chuckled one afternoon as he bounced tatum gently on his knee, the baby gurgling happily at his father’s playful expressions. “i think they’ve teamed up against us.”

“they’re like tiny little superheroes,” y/n replied with a smirk, her arms full with rowan, who had just finished feeding and was now settled against her shoulder, her small fingers grasping at y/n’s braid. “and we’re the unsuspecting sidekicks. just wait until they start crawling. we’ll be completely outmatched.”

“i’ll need to start training like the olympics,” trent laughed, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “imagine me at the gym, preparing for a baby chase instead of a match.”

“oh please,” y/n teased, rolling her eyes. “you’re going to have to prepare for more than just chasing them. think of the messes we’re in for.”

the two of them shared a knowing glance, and y/n felt the warmth spreading in her chest. despite the fatigue and the whirlwind of parenthood, there was an undeniable joy in their little family. trent was a natural, throwing himself into every moment with a sense of wonder that often left y/n breathless.

as the days wore on, y/n found herself becoming more adept at multitasking. she learned to nurse rowan while preparing tatum’s bottle, often laughing at the absurdity of it all. the house was a constant buzz of activity, and trent had turned into a master of chaos management. he’d mastered the art of cooking with one hand while holding a baby in the other, all while keeping their small home from descending into utter madness.

one morning, y/n woke to find trent already awake, perched at the edge of their bed, cradling rowan in one arm while he prepared a bottle with the other. the sight tugged at her heartstrings. “you’re up early,” she murmured, stretching her limbs and blinking against the morning light.

“i thought i’d let you sleep in a bit,” he replied softly, glancing at her with a grin. “you needed it. rowan was getting restless, so i figured it was my turn to take over.”

“i’ll never understand how you manage to do it all.” she said, shaking her head with a smile.

“because you make me want to,” he replied earnestly, his gaze unwavering. “you and these two—it's worth every sleepless night.”

their mornings would often morph into spontaneous dance parties, with trent holding rowan in one arm and swaying to a tune on the radio. tatum, in his bouncy chair, would kick his feet in excitement, his laughter bubbling over as he watched his parents. y/n found herself swept away in the moment, her heart swelling with love as she joined them, their laughter echoing around the room.

but not every moment was easy. y/n sometimes felt overwhelmed, the weight of exhaustion pressing down on her. there were days when the babies cried more than usual, and y/n would find herself spiraling, doubting her ability to juggle it all. on those days, trent would always sense when she was struggling, wrapping his arms around her and whispering words of encouragement, grounding her back to reality.

“hey, look at me,” he’d say softly, cupping her face in his hands. “you’re doing an amazing job. we’re a team. if you’re ever feeling lost, just remember, it’s okay to ask for help. i’m here for you, always.”

“i don’t know what i’d do without you,” she’d whisper, her voice cracking slightly as the emotions surged to the surface.

“you’ll never have to find out,” he promised, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, solidifying their bond.

and then there were the moments of sheer joy, like the first time tatum had giggled, a sound so pure it brought them both to tears. or the way rowan would gaze up at them, her big eyes full of wonder, as if she held the universe within her grasp. each tiny milestone reminded them of their journey and the love that had brought them to this moment, and even through the challenges, y/n and trent found strength in one another, laughter in the chaos, and love in every little moment shared with their precious children.

the exhaustion clung to y/n like a heavy blanket as she stirred awake, the sun peeking through the curtains, casting soft rays across the room. she blinked, trying to shake off the haze of sleep, only to realize that the familiar sounds of her babies cooing were absent. her heart raced as she looked to either side of the bed, expecting to see the bassinets—but they were empty.

“trent,” she whispered, her voice hoarse from sleepless nights. she nudged him hard with her elbow, panic creeping into her voice. “wake up! where are the babies?”

trent groaned, rolling over to face her, his eyes still heavy with sleep. “what? what do you mean?”

“the babies! they’re not here!” she exclaimed, scrambling out of bed, her heart pounding.

“what do you mean they’re not here?” he echoed, leaping out of bed, wide awake now. “they can’t just vanish!”

the two of them rushed out of the bedroom, their bare feet patting against the cool floor as they darted down the hall. y/n's mind raced, imagining all the worst-case scenarios. “they’re gone! what if they—”

“y/n, calm down,” trent said, grabbing her hand to steady her as they burst into the living room. “they can’t just be—”

the sight that greeted them brought an immediate wave of relief. there, in the kitchen, were their mothers, sitting at the table with the babies nestled in their arms, cooing and giggling as they played. the morning light illuminated the scene, creating an almost ethereal glow around their families.

“look who decided to wake up!” y/n’s mom called out, a wide smile on her face as she looked up from the little girl in her arms. “we thought we’d give you two a little break.”

“you’ve both been working so hard,” trent’s mom added, cradling their son gently. “we figured you could use some extra hands this morning.”

y/n felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes as she absorbed the scene. she rushed over, her heart swelling at the sight of her children being so lovingly cared for. “oh my god, thank you,” she whispered, her voice breaking as she sat beside her mom, reaching out to touch her daughter’s tiny hand. “i’m just so tired.”

“i know, sweetheart,” her mom said gently, squeezing her hand. “it’s tough in the beginning. but you’re doing an amazing job. let us take care of them for a little while.”

“seriously, you two,” trent said, his voice filled with gratitude as he stepped closer to the table. “you have no idea how much this means to us. we’ve been running on fumes.”

“just take a breath and let us spoil these little ones,” trent’s mom replied, smiling as she rocked the baby gently. “you deserve a moment to recharge. and we’ll make sure they’re ready to go when the season starts back up.”

y/n felt a wave of warmth wash over her as she looked at the two women who had supported them through everything. the love in the room enveloped her, reminding her that they weren’t alone in this journey.

“thank you,” she said again, tears spilling down her cheeks as she looked up at trent. “thank you for being here.”

“always,” he replied, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. “we’ll figure this out together, just like we always do.”

as they settled into the moment, y/n felt the tension slowly melting away. it wasn’t just about getting a break; it was about family, love, and the incredible journey they were all on together.

the night before had been a blur of cries and coos, a cacophony of exhaustion that left y/n feeling as if she’d been run over by a truck. she and trent had tried to stick to their newly devised system of alternating shifts, determined to find a rhythm amid the chaos. but the plan crumbled as soon as one of the babies woke to feed, and the other inevitably followed suit, their cries blending together in a heartbreaking symphony of need.

y/n had spent hours nursing one baby while the other squirmed in their bassinet, fussing as if sensing they were being left out. by the time she finally managed to soothe them both, she felt as though she was tethered to the bed, her body heavy and achy from the aftereffects of giving birth. every movement felt like a reminder of the toll her body had taken, and she winced as she shifted in bed, her skin still sensitive and raw.

“y/n, let me help,” trent said softly, his voice low and soothing as he pulled her into his side, offering his warmth against her shivering frame. he could see the strain etched across her face, the dark circles under her eyes like bruises. he had stayed up with her, doing his best to soothe their son while y/n pumped, her own frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “you’re doing amazing, you know that? we’ll get through this.”

“i feel like a zombie,” she mumbled, burying her face in his chest, inhaling the familiar scent of his skin, a comfort amid the overwhelming exhaustion. “and my body… it’s just not the same. i don’t even know how to navigate this.”

“you’re still you,” he replied, brushing a tender hand through her hair. “it’s just a different you for now. this is temporary. we’re going to figure it out together.” he glanced down at her, his expression earnest. “besides, you’re handling everything like a champ.”

y/n scoffed softly, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. “a champ? i’m more like a walking disaster. i can’t even keep up with pumping and changing them without feeling like i’m losing my mind. and don’t get me started on how it feels to be so… exposed.”

“that’s normal, baby,” trent reassured her, his fingers tracing small circles on her back. “you’ve just gone through something incredible. your body is still healing, and it’s doing the hardest work right now—feeding our kids. it’s okay to feel like you’re struggling.”

tears pooled in her eyes as she nodded, feeling the weight of his words settle over her like a warm blanket. “i just wanted it to be easier. i thought… i thought i’d be more prepared.”

“no one is prepared for this,” he replied, his tone serious yet gentle. “and you’re not alone in it. i’m right here with you, no matter how hard it gets. you can lean on me. we can tackle this together.”

y/n closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as she let his words wash over her. she could feel the bond they shared deepening, fortified by shared struggles and the vulnerability of this new chapter.

as they finally made their way down the hall toward the kitchen, the comforting aroma of breakfast filled the air. her mother was seated at the table, their babies nestled against her, content and blissful, giving y/n a much-needed sense of relief.

“how’s my girl doing?” her mom asked, looking up with a warm smile as she caught sight of them.

“exhausted, but alive,” y/n admitted, leaning into trent’s side for support.

“that’s all we can ask for, isn’t it?” her mom laughed softly, her voice soothing. “just remember, this is all part of the process. you’re doing great, and we’re here to help.”

“thank you for this,” y/n whispered, her heart swelling with gratitude. she felt a surge of emotion as she watched her mother rock the baby, the joy radiating from her face.

“of course, sweetie. just take care of yourself and let us worry about the little ones for a bit.”

as y/n settled into the moment, the weight of her struggles didn’t entirely disappear, but it felt lighter, more manageable. with trent by her side and their families supporting them, she felt the glimmers of hope shining through the exhaustion.

since the twins had arrived, y/n's world had been a blur of feedings, diaper changes, and late-night rocking sessions. between the demands of their newborns and her own recovery, she’d felt like she was running on fumes, barely able to find a moment for herself, let alone for them. her days had melted into nights, each one filled with the cries and needs of two tiny lives, and somewhere along the way, she’d lost the pieces of herself that had once felt so certain, so whole.

in the weeks after the birth, trent had been by her side every step, easing her burden whenever he could, always there with a gentle hand and a quiet reassurance. he never once pressured her, never made her feel like she had to be anything other than what she was. yet deep down, she felt a growing guilt. during her pregnancy, she’d been insatiable, craving his touch, his closeness, needing him like she needed air. and he’d indulged her, patient and eager, never saying no, even as her desires seemed to grow with each passing day. she’d let herself drown in his love, unashamed and unreserved.

but now… now she felt like she was failing him. it had been weeks, and though she knew he’d never push her, she felt a pang of guilt every time she turned away, every time she avoided his touch out of exhaustion or insecurity. her body had changed in ways she hadn’t expected, and though he looked at her with nothing but love, she couldn’t shake the self-consciousness that lingered. she hadn’t fully healed, physically or emotionally, and even though she wanted to be close to him, something held her back.

one evening, after finally getting the twins to sleep, she stood in their bedroom, staring at herself in the mirror, hesitating. she’d slipped into a piece of soft, delicate lingerie she’d bought before the babies arrived, hoping it might help her feel beautiful again. she wasn’t sure if it worked, but she missed him, missed the way he made her feel, and tonight, she wanted to try.

when trent walked into the room and saw her, his eyes softened, a look of surprise and admiration lighting up his face. he crossed the room to her, wrapping his arms around her, his hands resting gently on her waist as he looked down at her. “you look… incredible,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe.

she gave a nervous smile, a faint blush rising on her cheeks. “i wasn’t sure if… i don’t know. i just… miss us.”

he nodded, his thumb brushing over her hip, grounding her. “i’ve missed you too,” he said softly, his voice laced with warmth. “but you don’t have to do this, baby. i’m here, whenever you’re ready. we’re not in any rush.”

she felt a wave of emotion at his words, her heart swelling with gratitude for the patience and love he showed her. still, a part of her wanted to give him something, to make up for all the times she’d turned away. “i feel like i’m… depriving you. you never complained once when i couldn’t get enough of you while i was pregnant, and now…” her voice trailed off, a flicker of insecurity creeping in. “and now, i can barely keep up with anything. i don’t even know if i remember how.”

he laughed softly, his hands sliding up to cup her face, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “you’ve just spent every second taking care of two babies, on top of everything else. you haven’t deprived me of anything, okay? all i need is you, here with me. we’ll figure the rest out when you’re ready.”

his words eased some of the tension, and she let herself relax against him, her hands coming up to rest on his chest. he kissed her slowly, their lips moving together in a familiar rhythm, each touch a quiet reassurance. she felt the warmth of him, the comfort of his closeness, and for a moment, she forgot her fears.

but as his hands began to drift lower, a familiar heat building between them, she felt a pang of hesitation, her heart racing in a way she hadn’t expected. she pulled back, her hand resting on his chest, her voice barely above a whisper. “trent… i—i’m scared.”

he pulled back instantly, his gaze searching hers, concern flickering across his face. “hey… it’s okay. we don’t have to do anything. we can just stay like this.”

she felt a mixture of relief and vulnerability wash over her, leaning into him as she rested her head against his chest. “it’s just… my body doesn’t feel like mine yet. i don’t know if it will again, and i’m just… scared,” she admitted, her voice thick with emotion.

trent held her close, his arms wrapping around her securely, his voice a quiet murmur against her hair. “you just brought our babies into the world. you’ve given me everything, more than i could ever ask for. take all the time you need, okay? i’m not going anywhere.”

they lay down together, wrapped in each other’s arms, the comfort of his presence easing the weight of her insecurities. in the quiet moments that followed, she felt herself letting go, trusting that he would be there, patient and unwavering, no matter how long it took.

trent lay beside her, his arms a fortress of safety around her. the soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminated his face, etched with love and understanding as he pressed a kiss to her temple. she felt his fingers gently tracing her back in soothing patterns, as if he could erase her worries with his touch.

“you know,” he began, his voice soft and steady, “i need you to understand something.”

she tilted her head up to meet his eyes, her own glistening with unshed tears. “what’s that?”

he brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering as if he couldn’t bear to stop touching her. “i’ve never stopped wanting you. not for a second. not when we were apart, not when you were pregnant, and definitely not now.” his voice grew quieter, more vulnerable. “even when we were miles away, i dreamed about you. i fantasized about you. you’re it for me, y/n. you always have been.”

her breath hitched, a single tear slipping down her cheek. “but my body… it’s not the same. i’m not the same.”

trent’s gaze softened, his hand trailing reverently down her side, over the curve of her hip, and back up to rest on her stomach. “your body just did the most incredible thing. you carried our babies, brought them into the world. i can’t even begin to describe how much that means to me.” he kissed her shoulder, his lips lingering against her skin. “and you’re even sexier now, if that’s even possible. you have no idea how much i admire you, how much i worship you.”

his words sent a shiver through her, and she let out a shaky laugh. “you’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“nah,” he said, his grin breaking through the seriousness of the moment. “if i wanted to make you feel better, i’d be writing one of those shakespearean sonnets i talked about.”

she couldn’t help but laugh, her head falling to his chest as her shoulders shook with the sound. “you’re ridiculous.”

“and you love me for it,” he teased, his hands resuming their exploration, mapping every inch of her like she was a work of art.

“maybe,” she whispered, her voice tinged with a mix of affection and bashfulness.

he shifted, rolling them so she was lying beneath him, his weight careful and light as he hovered over her. his hands framed her face, his thumbs brushing against her cheeks. “look at me,” he said, his tone suddenly serious.

her eyes locked with his, the intensity in his gaze stealing her breath.

“you’re the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen, y/n. nothing will ever change that. not time, not kids, not anything. you’re my everything, and i’ll spend the rest of my life proving that to you if i have to.”

her heart swelled, the love she felt for him nearly overwhelming. she pulled him down into a kiss, pouring everything she couldn’t say into the connection, every fear, every doubt, every bit of gratitude for the man who loved her so wholly.

as their lips parted, she rested her forehead against his, her voice barely above a whisper. “thank you, trent. for everything.”

“always,” he murmured, his fingers threading through hers as they lay there together, the weight of her worries slowly giving way to the unshakeable foundation of their love.

trent felt her shift in his arms, her body turning to face him fully. there was something in her eyes now—a spark of the confidence she had before, softened by vulnerability but steady and determined. she pulled back just enough to stand, her movements hesitant but deliberate.

it was a blur of exhaustion and baby cries by the time the match ended. y/n could barely keep her eyes open, let alone muster the energy to cheer when trent’s team won. she sat in the family box at the small table, one twin resting fitfully in her lap while the other squirmed in marcel’s arms. her hair was frizzy from the humidity, her makeup long faded, and she couldn’t remember the last time she ate.

she adjusted the hem of her beige ribbed co-ord set, one she had thrown on in haste but still managed to look halfway decent in. still, exhaustion clung to her like a second skin, and she was barely keeping it together when trent arrived.

he entered the family box freshly showered and changed into his lfc tracksuit, the soft material clinging to his frame in all the right places. his eyes immediately sought hers, a smile spreading across his face when he saw her—messy hair, tired eyes, and all.

“there’s my superstar,” he said warmly, dropping his bag on a nearby chair. he crossed the space in a few strides, crouching in front of her. “and look at these two,” he added, his voice softening as he pressed kisses to the twins’ chubby cheeks.

y/n let out a breathy laugh, her lips quirking despite the exhaustion. “your superstars have been colicky all day. i’ve been losing my mind.”

trent’s brows furrowed in concern as he stood, taking one baby from marcel and cradling them easily in his arms. “why didn’t you call me? i could’ve helped.”

she rolled her eyes, adjusting the twin in her lap. “and what? have you leave the match to hold a baby? be serious, trent.”

“i am serious,” he said, his voice dropping to a more tender tone. “i hate seeing you like this, love. you’re doing so much.”

her shoulders sagged as she leaned back in her chair, letting him take the baby from her arms. “it’s not like i had much of a choice. they were both screaming at the same time, and i could barely get dressed. i wasn’t sure i’d even make it here.”

trent’s eyes swept over her, from her frazzled expression to the co-ord set that clung to her figure in a way that made his breath hitch. “well, you look like you’re holding it together just fine,” he murmured, his lips quirking into a small smirk.

y/n shot him a dry look. “if by ‘holding it together’ you mean barely surviving, then sure.”

trent chuckled, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “you’re still the most stunning woman in the room, though.”

her cheeks flushed faintly, though she rolled her eyes to play it off. “don’t start, trent.”

his grin widened, but then his eyes caught the sight of the twins' jerseys—both with “daddy” and his number on the back. his expression softened as he adjusted the baby in his arms, kissing their head gently.

“look at my little fans,” he said, his pride evident. “but wait…” he glanced back at y/n, feigning mock disappointment. “you’re not wearing my shirt, though.”

she raised a brow, leaning forward slightly. “i’m getting too old for that, trent.”

he smirked, stepping closer and tilting her chin up with his free hand. “last i checked, you have our last name, mrs. alexander-arnold.”

her lips twitched, fighting a smile. “oh, so now you’re keeping tabs on me?”

“always,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss her. it was soft and lingering, his way of grounding her amidst the chaos. when he pulled back, he pressed his forehead against hers. “you’re my whole world, y’know that?”

“you’re corny,” she whispered, though her voice wavered with emotion. “but i’ll allow it.”

trent chuckled, pulling back to settle into the chair beside her. with one twin in his lap and the other nestled against his chest, he glanced at y/n. “you did amazing today, love. but let me take over now. you’ve earned a break.”

as he rocked the babies gently, their cries subsiding in his arms, y/n finally allowed herself to relax. she leaned against his shoulder, her eyes fluttering shut for the briefest moment. even in her exhaustion, she couldn’t help but think how lucky she was—chaos and all.

trent was in the kitchen, bouncing one of the babies gently in his arms while the other cooed happily from the swing nearby. y/n stood at the counter, sipping her tea and stealing glances at the sight before her—trent, in sweatpants and a t-shirt, completely in his element as a dad. her heart melted at how natural he looked, cradling their child like it was the most effortless thing in the world.

“hey,” trent called out, his grin wide as he turned to face her. “got a question for you, baby.”

she raised an eyebrow, amused by the sudden theatrics in his tone. “oh? what’s that?”

he carefully set the baby down in the swing beside their sibling, making sure they were snug and content before dramatically dropping to one knee.

“y/n alexander-arnold,” he began, his voice dripping with exaggerated sincerity. “will you do me the honor of marrying me… again?”

y/n blinked, her cup of tea frozen halfway to her lips. “what are you on about, trent?”

“just answer the question, yeah?” he smirked, clearly enjoying himself.

she rolled her eyes, biting back a laugh. “i am married to you, you dork.”

“yeah, but this is different.” he gestured to the twins. “look at them. you gave me these perfect little humans, and every day i see you with them, i fall even more in love with you. i swear, i could write shakespearean sonnets about how in love i am with you.”

her cheeks flushed instantly, and she narrowed her eyes at him, trying to mask how easily he could fluster her. “oh, don’t you start.”

“it’s true, baby,” he continued, milking the moment as he leaned closer, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “shall i compare thee to a summer’s day? nah, you’re better. less sweaty.”

y/n snorted, shaking her head. “you’re impossible.”

“nope, just obsessed with my wife,” he said, his grin widening.

she stepped closer, placing her hands on her hips as she gave him a mock-serious look. “tell me the truth. is this another ploy to get another kid out of me? because if it is, forget it.”

trent gasped, feigning offense. “how dare you accuse me of such a thing? this is about love, y/n. romance. pure devotion!”

she laughed, unable to stop herself. “pure devotion, my foot. you’re just trying to fill this house with as many kids as possible.”

“well,” he said, standing and wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her close, “can you blame me? look at us. we make masterpieces.”

her blush deepened, but she rolled her eyes, trying to play it cool. “stop it, trent.”

“never,” he said, leaning down to kiss her softly.

as he pulled back, he grinned at her, his brown eyes warm and full of mischief. “so… is that a yes? will you marry me again?”

she pretended to consider it, tapping her chin. “hmm, fine. but only if you promise not to write any actual sonnets.”

trent chuckled, pressing another quick kiss to her lips. “deal. but just so you know, if i ever write one, it’ll be an absolute banger.”

y/n laughed, resting her forehead against his chest as their shared joy filled the room—and the sound of one of the twins gurgling nearby was the perfect harmony to their happiness.

it was late, the kind of quiet that only came when the babies were finally asleep. y/n and trent stood by the doorway to the nursery, their gazes fixed on the two tiny cribs. he had his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close, and she leaned into him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest.

“they’re finally sleeping through the night,” she whispered, her voice filled with both relief and pride.

trent chuckled softly, his lips brushing her temple. “yeah, our little miracles. strong, just like their mum.”

she smiled at his words, her fingers tightening briefly around his. they stood there for a few more moments before she turned, taking his hand to lead him back to their bedroom.

inside, the soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminated the space, casting warm, golden hues across the room. trent moved to sit on the edge of the bed, his eyes following her as she walked to the dresser, hesitating for a moment.

“you okay?” his voice was gentle, careful.

she turned to face him, her hands nervously clasped in front of her. “i’m more than okay,” she said softly. “i just… i think i’m ready now.”

his brow furrowed slightly in confusion before her words fully registered. she saw the flicker of surprise in his eyes, quickly replaced by something softer, warmer. “are you sure?” he asked, his voice steady but filled with emotion.

she nodded, taking a deep breath. “i’m sure, trent. you’ve been so patient, so kind… i want this. i want you.”

her hands moved to untie the robe she was wearing, the silky fabric slipping off her shoulders and cascading to the floor. she stood there, her heart pounding as she watched his reaction.

trent’s gaze swept over her, unhurried and full of reverence. his jaw clenched slightly as if holding back the flood of emotions that threatened to spill over. “you’re… god, you’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice thick with awe.

she felt her cheeks flush under his gaze, but this time, there was no hesitation. she stepped closer, and he reached out, his hands finding her waist and gently pulling her to stand between his knees.

“come here,” he whispered, his voice low and tender.

she leaned down, her lips meeting his in a kiss that was soft at first, tentative. but as her fingers found their way into his curls and his hands roamed up her back, the kiss deepened, filled with all the longing they’d both carried for weeks.

trent’s lips left hers, trailing kisses down her jaw, her neck, stopping to murmur against her skin, “tell me if you want me to stop. any time, yeah?”

she nodded, her voice breathless. “i don’t want you to stop.”

he laid her down on the bed with a gentleness that made her chest ache, his hands brushing over her skin like she was something precious. “you’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his lips pressing kisses along her collarbone, down to the soft swell of her stomach.

she reached for him, her fingers brushing his cheek as she looked into his eyes. “i love you,” she said, her voice trembling with the weight of her feelings.

“i love you, too,” he replied, his voice steady but filled with raw emotion. “more than you’ll ever know.”

he took his time with her, making sure she felt cherished with every kiss, every touch. he murmured reassurances against her skin, his words wrapping around her like a cocoon.

when he finally looked up at her, his eyes searching hers, she nodded, her voice soft but resolute. “i’m ready.”

and as they came together, it wasn’t just about physical closeness—it was a healing, a reclaiming of all the love they’d always had but hadn’t been able to fully express. in his arms, she felt safe, adored, and whole.

later, as they lay tangled together in the quiet, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “you’re everything to me, y/n. always.”

she smiled, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest. “and you’re everything to me.”

in that moment, with the world outside fading away, they were simply them—two people who loved each other fiercely, finding their way back to one another.

the morning light poured into their living room, bathing the space in a gentle glow. trent was preparing for an early kick-off, moving around the house with a mix of excitement and the usual pre-match focus. y/n, still a bit bleary-eyed from the late-night feedings, watched him from the kitchen, cradling one of the twins while the other rested comfortably in the swing.

he caught her eye and smiled, his heart swelling at the sight of her. she looked lovely in his oversized liverpool top, her hair slightly tousled, a soft glow about her that took his breath away. he leaned down to kiss the baby on her hip, then pressed a lingering kiss to y/n’s lips, both of them savoring the quiet moment. “i’ll see you both after the game,” he murmured, trying to memorize every detail of her face.

“go make us proud,” she teased, her voice soft yet full of warmth.

as he left for the match, y/n felt a twinge of loneliness settle in her chest. the house felt quiet without him, but she pushed the feeling aside, determined to make the most of the morning with the twins.

after they were settled in their swings, y/n got a spark of inspiration. she quickly dressed the twins in matching red liverpool onesies, their tiny forms looking adorable in the team colors. with her phone in hand, she snapped a picture of the three of them—herself in trent’s shirt, the twins dressed up, all smiles and giggles. she sent the photo to trent with a simple message: surprise! we’re ready to cheer for you!

when trent received the message, he couldn’t help but pause. his heart melted as he saw y/n’s familiar smile, the twins' tiny bodies decked out in their little liverpool kits. it was an unexpected yet heartwarming moment that fueled his adrenaline as he prepared to step onto the pitch. “look at them!” he said to mo, who chuckled at his friend’s obvious affection. “they’re perfect.”

the match kicked off, and y/n had the volume low, but the excitement in the air was palpable. she rocked the twins gently in their swings, occasionally glancing up at the TV to catch sight of trent in action. each time the camera panned to him, her heart raced, filled with pride and love.

then, the moment came. trent scored a stunning goal, and in an instinctive, playful move, he tucked the ball under his shirt, mimicking the shape of a baby bump. y/n’s heart soared, her joy spilling over as she cheered quietly for him, the twins cooing in response, almost as if they understood their dad was doing something extraordinary.

back home, she celebrated softly, cheering silently, watching the game unfold as the twins waved their tiny fists, their faces full of wonder. as the game concluded with a triumphant win for liverpool, y/n felt a wave of excitement wash over her.

when trent finally walked through the door, she was already waiting for him, the monitor clipped to her hip, the twins sleeping peacefully. as soon as she saw him, she rushed into his arms, feeling his warmth envelop her.

“missed you,” he murmured, holding her tightly.

“we missed you, too,” she replied, her voice slightly muffled against his chest. “you were incredible out there!”

he grinned, brushing his thumb over her cheek, looking past her to see the twins peacefully sleeping in their cribs. “all i could think about was coming home to you three.”

her smile widened as she took a step back, excitement bubbling within her. “oh, and look what you missed while you were gone!” she said, motioning toward the twins.

when he saw the matching onesies, his heart leapt. “you dressed them up for me?”

“they were just too cute not to,” she replied, her eyes sparkling.

“this is the best surprise ever,” he said, his voice thick with emotion as he bent down to kiss the twins gently on their foreheads. “you guys look amazing.”

y/n laughed softly, the tears of joy brimming in her eyes as she watched him, his heart full as he adored their children. she stepped closer to him, brushing her fingers against his arm. “you’re an incredible dad, you know that?”

“and you’re a superhero, y/n. i don’t know how you do it all,” he said, his gaze sincere.

“i do it for you, for us,” she said, her heart swelling with love. “i didn’t think i could love anything more until i met them.”

he smiled, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. “i love you even more now. you’re everything to me.”

he leaned down, capturing her lips in a soft, lingering kiss, feeling the warmth of their connection, their family. when they finally pulled away, the twins stirred slightly in their cribs, and they exchanged a knowing look filled with love.

“let’s scoop them up,” y/n suggested softly, and they moved together, each cradling one of their babies, feeling the joy and completeness of their family. as they stood together in their home, everything felt right, perfect, and whole.

EPILOGUE

the sun was shining brightly over the pitch, illuminating the joyous scene unfolding before everyone. rowan and tatum, now nearly one, were decked out in their new season kits, tiny versions of trent’s uniform, complete with “daddy” emblazoned on the back above his number. y/n could hardly believe how fast they had grown, each of them wobbly on their little feet, taking tentative steps as they practiced walking across the grass.

the laughter of family echoed around the pitch, a beautiful backdrop to the sight of their children teetering and giggling as they tried to keep their balance. y/n’s heart swelled with love as she watched trent, kneeling on the ground, encouraging rowan to take another step. he had that look on his face—the one that said he would do anything for his little family.

“come on, baby girl! you’ve got this!” he cheered, clapping his hands. rowan looked up at him with wide eyes, a beaming smile splitting her face as she took another shaky step toward him. y/n could see the pride radiating from trent, his eyes shining with a love so deep it almost felt tangible.

“you can do it, rowan!” y/n called out, her voice filled with encouragement.

tatum, not one to be left out, followed closely behind, his tiny legs moving as quickly as they could manage. “go, tatum, go!” y/n laughed, clapping her hands in delight.

the entire family was there, a blend of laughter and excitement that enveloped the pitch. marcel and malik were on the sidelines, sharing smiles and proud glances as they watched their grandkids embrace the field. y/n’s mom was nearby, her heart swelling with pride as she cheered for the babies, while trent’s parents beamed, their joy evident as they watched their son thrive in this new role.

“this is everything,” y/n whispered to herself, feeling overwhelmed by the beauty of the moment. she turned to trent, who had gotten to his feet and was now holding both rowan and tatum in his arms, their little bodies nestled against him. “look at our little family,” she said, her voice thick with emotion.

“i still can’t believe how much they’ve changed us,” trent replied, his gaze soft as he looked at his children. “they’ve altered my heart in ways i couldn’t have ever imagined. loving them, loving you… it’s a whole new level of happiness.”

y/n chuckled, rolling her eyes playfully. “you sound like you want to add more to the chaos.”

“well, you know…” he began, a teasing smile dancing on his lips. “i was just thinking, maybe we could start talking about baby number three?”

y/n shot him a playful glare, her hands on her hips. “no way, mister. we have our hands full as it is!”

“just think about it,” he said, raising his eyebrows in that charming way he had. “i mean, we’re doing pretty well, and they’re so cute. imagine having another one to keep us on our toes!”

“not happening,” she laughed, but there was a twinkle in her eye that hinted at her uncertainty.

trent leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “okay, okay. but when you’re ready, i’ll be right here, ready to take on the challenge.”

the moment was rich with love and promise, and as they stood there, surrounded by family, y/n couldn’t help but feel a warmth spread through her. they had built something beautiful together, and while life with twins was a whirlwind, it was their whirlwind—one that would always be filled with love, laughter, and endless possibilities.

as rowan and tatum took their first few steps together, the world around them faded, and for a brief moment, it was just y/n, trent, and their little family. there was a future ahead, full of uncertainty but also infinite love. the chapter they had written was only just the beginning.

they sat side by side on the soft, green grass, the sun casting a warm glow over their little patch of paradise. trent had an arm draped casually over y/n’s shoulders, pulling her close as they watched rowan and tatum playing together. the twins were giggling, their laughter ringing out like the sweetest melody, as they chased each other, wobbling on unsteady legs.

“i still can’t believe they’re walking,” y/n murmured, a sense of disbelief lacing her voice. she felt a swell of pride as rowan took another hesitant step toward trent, her tiny hands reaching out for balance. “it feels like just yesterday they were in my arms.”

“time flies, doesn’t it?” trent replied, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he glanced down at y/n, his eyes sparkling with adoration. “every day they surprise me more. i mean, look at them. they’re growing up so fast.”

y/n nodded, her gaze drifting back to the twins. rowan stumbled, falling onto her bottom with a soft thud, and tatum burst into a fit of giggles, clearly amused by his sister’s tumble. trent chuckled at the sight, his heart swelling as he observed their innocent antics.

“i wouldn’t change a thing,” he said, turning to y/n, his expression earnest. “these moments… they’re everything. i can’t believe how lucky we are.”

y/n felt her heart skip at his words, and she leaned into him, relishing the warmth of his body against hers. “i always wanted a family, but this—” she gestured toward their children, who were now trying to get back on their feet, “—this is more than i ever imagined. it’s like a dream.”

trent brushed his fingers through her hair, tucking a loose braid behind her ear. “and to think we started with just us. look how far we’ve come.” his eyes softened as he reminisced. “from late-night talks to diaper changes and tantrums… it’s a wild ride, but i wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else.”

y/n smiled, feeling a sense of contentment wash over her. “you really do make it all easier, you know? through the sleepless nights and everything.” she glanced at him, her expression playful. “even when you steal the covers.”

“hey, i can’t help it if i’m a cover hog,” he shot back, grinning. “but seriously, we’re in this together, every step of the way. and if i have to give up my half of the bed for a little while longer, then so be it.”

“i appreciate that,” y/n laughed, shaking her head. she looked back at their children, who were now holding onto each other for support, their eyes wide with excitement as they took tentative steps. “they’re such a perfect mix of us.”

“i know,” trent said, his voice brimming with pride. “i see so much of you in rowan and everything i love about myself in tatum. it’s like we’ve created little versions of us, and it blows my mind.”

“we really did,” y/n agreed, her voice softening as she watched the twins, a swell of love filling her chest. “and i can’t wait to see what kind of people they become. they’re already so full of life and personality.”

the sun began to set in the distance, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange, casting a warm glow over their little family. trent turned his gaze to y/n, a thoughtful look crossing his features. “you know, one day they’ll be running around like this on their own, and we’ll be sitting here reminiscing about all the chaos that brought us to this moment.”

“and you’ll probably still be stealing the covers,” y/n teased, nudging him playfully with her shoulder.

“only if you keep hogging the pillows,” he countered with a laugh, and they both fell into a comfortable silence, watching their children with hearts full of love and anticipation for the future.

in that moment, nestled together on the grass, they knew that whatever lay ahead—sleepless nights, tantrums, and all—they would face it as a team. together.

© PDRIESTA 2024

[strong-with-the-sarcasm]

part 11- a thousand candles burn into the night

"When the ashes start to rise and the moon falls from the sky and a thousand candles burn into the night. When the angels softly cry on the flames below the sky, would a thousand souls still pray for you and I?" -Day of the Dead by Hollywood Undead

Masterlist Part 10

Just like the summer air began to cool into autumn winds, Jasmine and Jason began with a heated tension between them that dwindled into a slow simmer of what neither of them wanted to jinx by calling it love. 

Both were aware of how unnatural their connection was, how quick one was able to trust the other with simple thoughts that roll off the tongue- Jazz’s favorite tea, Jason’s favorite book, her younger siblings, his many brothers. It was obvious that Jason held some lingering anger towards those he called family, but it was an old wound, infected yet healing. When it came to more in-depth questions about Jazz’s siblings, Danny and Ellie, there was a sad tinge to the affection. Jazz missed Ellie with every fiber of her being, but her little sister was free as her heart desired. 

Jason spoke at length about his own, eventually admitting his anger issues that had led him to attempted murder on one of the younger boys, Tim, that he deeply regretted. 

Jazz had only to listen, because who else could understand the deeply rooted rage that came with betrayal? 

One slash, two, three

Blood is on your hands already. 

Fourth, fifth slash

Ask the ghosts if honor matters, buried amongst the ash. 

Slash six, seven

Sharpen your love into a weapon

They went out on several dates, each one special and lovely, but Jazz’s favorite was being wrapped in familiar arms as they watched Pride and Prejudice on Jason’s couch. It was a comfortable warmth that lulled the redhead into a deep sleep, the best she had gotten in a long time. 

Jazz was the first to wake, lying on Jason’s firm chest and ear pressed firmly to where she could hear a faint purr from his Proto-Core, she felt no compulsion to move even though there were things she had to do as Regent and as Jasmine. 

She had to talk to Frostbite, because she needed to understand why she was so connected to Jason. It frightened Jazz, to have her emotions so sharpened towards someone she hadn’t known for very long. 

(She was in love.) 

Her own Proto-core purred in tandem with Jason’s, happiness bubbling up in her chest. This was a peace she never wanted to let go, regardless of the reason why the two of them were brought and bound together. 

Jason was in love. 

There was zero doubt in his head or heart that he was fully committed to his darling Jazz, the beautiful woman who understood him in ways no one ever had. With her, the pit remnants were calm and he was happy. 

Happy. 

Sheer happiness was in his grasp, in his arms and resting on his chest as she slept. Her long hair smelled like strawberries and he never wanted to leave. 

Yet, bat-trained paranoia reared its ugly head in moments like these. 

Jasmine Nightingale was, by all accounts, a civilian with a trust fund who cared for her younger brother. No other records were found that could tie either Jazz or Danny to crime, but Jason didn’t want to see them if they existed anyway. He hadn’t even met Danny yet and the kid, despite being prime adoption bait, was already one of Jason’s favorite people. He made Jazz proud with his intelligence and good-natured attitude, so Jason would do his best to form a good relationship with the kid. 

He guessed he should be more concerned with how quickly he fell for his darling, but he wasn’t. It felt right. It felt safe. Like he could trust Jazz with every thought, every dream, every hope, every nightmare and she wouldn’t run away. He wanted her, plain and simple. 

Thankfully Jazz was more or less on the same page as him. 

She never had to say a word about how she felt for him, it was obvious in the way she would gravitate towards him, want to be around him, talk to him, simply be with Jason. How honored he felt to be gifted such attention by Jazz. 

He didn’t know how to tell her about Red Hood though. 

The Nightingales lived outside Crime Alley’s borders, in a shitty neighborhood of Gotham recently claimed by two new vigilantes- Phantom and Regent. 

Jason tried to shove back the horrifying images of a vivisectied Phantom, screaming, sobbing and whimpering, but he would ever be able to forget. 

The video of Regent killing the Fentons was glitched, but cross referenced with the Ghost Files, it was obvious the Regent of Now and Then were the same woman…entity that saved Phantom, no, avenged the ghost kid. 

The fact that the Fentons death prevented a war was karmic justice, in his humble opinion. 

Yet, there was something familiar about the Regent. Something that called to him on a baser level… as if he knew the entity behind the helmet. 

But that was ridiculous…right? 

Right? 

Jazz was going to kill him all the way this time, Danny bemoaned while in flight. He really stuck his foot in it this time and yikes, he really needed to learn to keep his mouth shut. 

He just had to go behind Jazz’s back and give the Ghost Files to Batman instead of Superman or Constantine. Big and blue wasn’t available when Danny found an opportunity and for shame if he wasted it! Sad trench coat man being there was really just a bonus, honestly. 

With the Acts getting the League’s attention, it was time for a desperate move on the part of the GIW. 

They infiltrated Gotham. 

Danny had no idea how they had found a way past the border Lady Gotham kept a tight leash on, but the agents were able to pick up his trail with a lucky break on their end. He had a haunt in Gotham, which meant his ecto-signature was strong in that area and weak in others. A glaring neon sign of where the Phantom often could be found. 

But Danny would never give up his haunt again, not without a fight. 

This haunt didn’t just belong to him, not like Amity had. This had become the home of the Nightingales, the Phantom and the Regent. They had shed blood to claim it and would shed more to keep it. 

If it meant admitting to his mistake, then so be it, that’s where he would start. 

“Bold of you to assume I thought that far ahead.” Was probably not the best response to Jazz’s irate question of ‘Did you even consider what Batman, Mr. Contingencies-out-the-ass and minion-acquisition-instead-of-therapy, would do with the files?’ 

Needless to say, Jazz wasn’t impressed. 

She had been rather happier lately, with her boyfriend Jason constantly in her orbit, but responsibility still weighed on her. 

(Danny’s fault, he was aware, but he still had so much growing up to do before he was ready for the crown.)

Getting the AEA demolished was sure to take some weight from her, even if it would be only the beginning of resolving the repercussions of the United States’ crimes against the Infinite Realms. 

It would be years before it would be considered repaid, the blood shed and existences snuffed out. The deaths of the Dr. Fentons were only a consequence of their actions, not truly recompense for the torture they inflicted on the people of the Realms. 

(Danny never told Jazz, but he knew they didn’t die when the portal was destroyed.)

(He knew his sister had killed their parents to save him.) 

(He still didn’t know how to feel about that.) 

Lady Gotham offered a sad croon as Phantom curled his form under a gargoyle’s wings, the heavy rain an ironic ambiance for his mood.

There was nothing he could do about the GIW in Gotham until they showed themselves and they were doing an unusually good job of keeping on the down low. If it hadn’t been for the frantic screeches of the friendly shades and a few blob ghosts cuddling him for comfort, he would have been caught off-guard by an attack. As long as he stayed out of his haunt for a while, let his signature be caught somewhere else, then Jazz would be able to defend their home until he could deal with the bastards. 

He just needed to wait. 

Jazz had been livid with him admitting his fuck up with the files and deeming the GIW’s presence his fault for claiming a Haunt. With a threat to hug him and make him talk about his feelings until he no longer believed such a lie, Jazz agreed to remain in their Haunt until he could draw some of their forces away. Lady Gotham’s ecto-siganture would be enough to scramble their trackers once further into her city and she would subtly lead her Knights to the agents when able. 

It wasn’t much, but it would have to be enough.

Phantom curled his tail around his laid back form, mimicking a cat as he texted Sam and Tucker with updates. They had sworn to visit him during Summer Break, but the Halfa wasn’t holding his breath. Gotham wasn’t safe for them. It wasn’t safe for anyone and that’s coming from a kid who can punt a building into the sun at a moment’s notice. 

Amity was (laughably) the best place for them. 

Phantom wasn’t really paying attention, absentmindly petting a blob ghost that was cuddled into his side, when he was joined by none other than the Red Hood. 

Badass armor and weapons aside, the Hood was an Antihero he admired. The avenged dead sung his praises for all who’d listen. 

And… he was very familiar. 

Red Hood possessed a Proto-core, one he’d sensed before in his own home….with Jazz. 

It couldn’t be. There was no way the Fenton luck could be that wonky that his big sister was dating Red Hood of all people, Jason Todd when unmasked. She had to know right? There was no way Jazz could miss the Proto-core signature of the Once-Revenant they’d housed for a while. Was Jazz okay with Jason’s past? Sure, Red Hood didn’t kill much anymore, but he was still a crime lord who thought severed heads in a duffel bag was a great gift to leave on someone’s doorstep, like a particularly picky cat. 

“Uh, hi?” 

Hood crouched down, rain blocked by his huge body, water droplets dripping off his red helmet. The white lenses gave nothing away as the Anti-hero spoke, “Hey kid. You ok?” 

(Danny was well aware of how gentle and caring Red Hood was towards kids.) 

(He couldn’t wait to be an uncle.) 

“I’m fine, dude. Just chilling.” 

“Under a gargoyle in Gotham?” The disbeliving tone made Phantom snort in laughter, because wow not the scariest concept to a halfa. 

“Hey, it was either this or the sewers. I wouldn’t be caught dead,” Phantom chuckled a bit at his joke. “Down there without hazmat gear and the Anti-Creep stick.” 

Hood snorted, the sound stackity through the modulator, “Fair enough. Don’t get caught by the big bat, ok? He doesn’t like Metas in his city.” 

“Oi, being dead is a meta-cal condition.” 

“Ugh,” Hood groaned, “a punster. You’re not dead, kid.” 

“‘Fraid I am, my good dude. Fourteen and fried alive, zero outta ten, would not recommend.” 

“...You’re a ghost?” 

“Right in one! Name’s Phantom.” the Halfa offered, seeing no point in correcting the Anti-hero. 

“Red Hood.” 

“Dude, I know. The shades sing your praises given half a chance.” 

“Shades?” 

Phantom shrugged, “The restless dead, unable to pass over without a lot of ectoplasm.” 

Hood didn’t ask what ectoplasm was, which surprised the Halfa. Did Batman share the Ghost Files with Red Hood? 

“You’re from Amity Park, right?” 

Phantom cringed at the name of his former haunt, anger bubbling in his gut, “I died there. I haunt Gotham now.” 

“....I’m sorry.” Even with the modulator, Hood sounded genuinely sad for Phantom. 

(Batman definitely shared the Ghost Files with the Anti-Hero.)

“Are you alright here? Do you need help?” 

Phantom shook his head, “The GIW invaded Gotham tracking my Ecto-signature, so I’m leading them away from my Haunt.” He raised an eyebrow, “You should be careful too. You’re a pretty strong liminal, but they’ll still try to capture you.” 

“No, they won’t get me. Phantom, where’s your haunt?” 

If Hood was anyone else, Phantom would keep his mouth shut. A Haunt is sacred, a home for a Fraid, it was not some measly address freely given. Yet, Red Hood was also Jason Todd, Once-Revenant Death-claimed Champion turned Proto-core Liminal dating his older sister. If Jazz trusted him enough to date him, then it was good enough for Phantom to offer him a place in his Fraid. (He really couldn’t wait to be an uncle.)

A/N: This was beta-read by @meditating-cat, thanks!

The little bit at the end there... foreshadowing, perhaps? Ooh... all those baby names I could give a Hardcover kid.

Perhaps, perhaps not. Who knows. I have the end of this series mostly planned out, but it could likely change.

Thanks for reading!