#making a thonk face to this

[aamaranthiine]

What type of love interest would you be in a dating sim?

The socially awkward brains of the team. ( From x )

Socilization doesn't come easy to you. You might struggle to be heard or seen by the ones around you so you prefer to avoid it all together, as frustrating as it can be sometimes. For that reason you might be selective with the people you blend with, and at times it might seem that nobody will truly understand you. But when you find those who resonate with you, you're an extremely kind and loyal friend. Most importantly, you're smart, and people always value that about you. They will constantly rely on you, ask for your guidance and advice, and you're happy to provide it. You like being the reliable friend. You don't get crushes easily, but when you do you don't really know how to handle them. They feel overwhelming and like a waste of time. There's no way they like me back, is it? What if I ruin it? What if I'm reading way too much into it? Remember to relax enjoy the feeling once in a while, chances are that your crush sees that intelligent and kindhearted person everyone else seen in you as well

tagged by: @todesgeduld tagging: @draconxs @climatact @medicus-felini & you!

[fatedroses]

I dont post my wips often but when I do they're either just uncolored sketches or they look like the ramblings and scrawlings of a madwoman lmao

[darabeatha]

/ I've noticed that at this point I'm not even writing on any blog anymore, I just come and yell about some blorbo and leave. Rinse and repeat my lieges

[hiruinonai]

@tenkoseiensei​ replied ; avice's gotta do that thing where they draw the little pink lines on the back of their hands and then hold it up to their cheeks so it looks like they're blushing

         /  HE SHOULD- I think its funny that out of all the icons I have, i don’t have a single blushing avice

[bloodykora]

Thonking hard about Buggy and long haired Buggy especially. Like I don’t mind the stylistic choice in the LA but maaaaan, maaaaaaaan. There’s the obvious stuff like playing with his long hair and braiding it but my mind keeps going back to Head!Buggy and you and it’s just a bit of time to kill before you get anywhere and you were honestly just supposed to watch him so he doesn’t get snatched up by a seagull and something and you both agree this doesn’t mean ANYTHING (he’s gonna develop a soft spot for you and ONLY you out of all the straw hats immediatly), but it’s so damn boring out here and you have some hairties you found somewhere and just… You using Buggy’s head like a hairstyling toy and just braiding it for him or putting it into little buns, clipping it out of his face so it doesn’t get into his eyes etc.

Sanji passes you once and is about to say something but Buggy just gives him a glare that’s all „Got something funny to say punk?“ and he just shakes his head and moves on.

(You forget one tie in there before he reuinites with his body. A simple little thing with two skull beads. He initially keeps it because he actually feels it suites his style but he developes a fondness for this little thing in particular that he doesn’t allow himself to think about for to long)

This is so much longer then I thought it would be so I'm putting it under read more but like yes.

- No cause I absolutely agree, love his long gorgeous hair. I like to think his hair isn’t thin either, its a good mix of thickness but not to the point of curly. He’s got the nice ‘wave’ going. Did you know that in his hat, there are small braids in the hair coming out of it in the LA.

- It didn’t take long for Buggy to start complaining about the heat and it didn’t take you long to get fed up with his complaints

- You kept looking at how his blue hair kept draping over the side of the barrel he was on, and how his bandana has not moved a inch since he was taken out of the bag on the ship

- "Let me do your hair." "No." "Let’s continue then to sit in almost complete silence, would you like to play cards? Oh, wait. You have no hands. What about I Spy? I spy something blue."

- Just making fun of the his situation until he caves in to let you, he says to stop your whining but in reality he could really use the scalp massage

- Putting a crate behind the barrel or something so you can sit and do it. It’s softer than you had thought it would be, and you could see small braids near his bottom layers.

- "Did you do these?" "Huh? I can’t really see the back of my head, you gotta be more descriptive." Holding one of them out for him to see. "Oh yeah, adds a nice touch to the hat when I’m performing!"

- The shed though, his hair would shed so much. You’d be pulling blue hair strands out of your clothes for the rest of time. And they’d get everywhere on the ship too.

- You could hear him sigh in relief when you first start brushing through it, and you felt relieved knowing those knots have been eradicated.

- First thing you do is just a little bun so his neck could get some fresh air for once and then it evolves into the craziness.

- Buns, pigtails, high and low ponys, 1 braid, 2 braids, fishtails, french, dutch, braiding 2 pieces and then wrapping it around his forehead like a crown. Favourite would be doing 2 french braids at the top of his head til it's the bottom and then putting the hair tie there so it becomes a fancy low pigtail.

- "I can't believe how pretty you are with your hair, not very fair to the rest of us good sir." You joke out, meaning it though. "I've always been pretty!" You snort at his reply not knowing how warm his face had started feeling.

- Every pirate has a niche collection, yours? Your hair pin collection. To die for. You have been collecting hair clips and such for this exact occasion. Butterflies, wooden, yellow, purple, bobby pins, bows, ribbons, flowers. The whole works.

- Buggy even thinks about asking you to join his crew just for your hair decoration skills.

- One time you even trim his dead ends for him, and some of his front pieces to frame his face more.

- He got so used to it that if you didn’t approach him with a brush in hand first thing in the morning that he would start asking for you saying how he needed his royal brushing. (He’s totally not worried at all sometimes when you take too long, ha that would be. Ahem.)

- Sometimes he’d even doze off, but would swear he was just resting his eyes.

- A few times someone would stop to glance at you two but never intervene, except Luffy. He was always in awe. Sanji had voiced his concerns for you but never says anything in front of Buggy, you could never see but the two men were death staring each other every time they passed.

- Word spreads through the crew and even though none of them had long enough hair to do or in Usopp’s case, has been doing it himself this whole time. They do come to ask for little clips here and there, Luffy wanting one for the string on his hat so he has something to fidget with, (Nami wanting some to wear with her different outfits later on), Usopp wondering where you got heart ones so he could get one for Kaya, even Zoro wondering if you had one he could wear for Kuina’s memory on special occasions.

-You knew you were nearing Coco village, you had overheard Buggy talking to Usopp about it. How they should be there within the day. You settle for a low bun that curls up right beneath his cap.

- "No beads today?" "Well there is some on the tie but you can’t see it, I was thinking that it would be a more relaxed day. I got some stuff to do around the ship."

- Everyone is so caught up in Nami that by the time things have cooled down you realize he’s gone, no more blue hair to twirl around your fingers.

- The clown realizes too, fiddling with the tie in his hands. Burying the longing deep down, hoping he never sees you again but praying he might get a glance of you once more. He takes it out if he knows he’s about to raid somewhere to avoid breaking it.

- Tears apart his quarters if he misplaces it, someone has almost lost a hand because it fell off a table. 

[hype-blue-fixation]

I've low key had a ler!Zestial and lee!Alastor brainworm. I plan to do an audio and maybe a fic based off of it, but imagine it

Young Radio Demon. Nobody knows his face except Rosie, so he's free of suspicion as he gathers power and souls in secret. But Zestial's network is literally everywhere. Nobody escapes his web, and he knows exactly who this baby overlord is. But he just wants to play with the ignorant and egotistic little thing. Make sure he stays humble, y'know?

So Zestial likes to play fear games. Nonviolent power games. Hide and seek, tickling, chasing, peekaboo jumpscares. It's like playing with a kid around Alastor. And even though Alastor has gotten used to it over the years, maybe even learned to like the games, they always remind him to stay humble. Because even though Zestial can be a playful grandpa, there's always the possibility that it isn't a game.

Idk guys the thinker is thonking

[gummydummy19]

Kinktober day 2: mask kink (Ghost x F reader)

Two-faced

Summary: Ghost has to leave for a mission, but he can't seem to find something very important...you wouldn't have anything to do with that, would you?

Content Warning: smut, fluff, playfulness, bad writing

A/N: This is my first ever ghost fic AAAAAHHHH! I really got into ghost over the last year and my oh my, what better way to start off kinktober than with this spooky ass cutiepatootie :))

Word Count: 1350+

"Where the fuck..." his deep voice grumbled through your apartment as he rummaged through every drawer he could find.

He was wearing a black shirt one would debate was a couple sizes too small and a thick, black jacket with lots of pockets, buckles, and straps.

His dark cargo pants were being held up by a heavily packed tactical belt, hanging low on his hips. His bag and tactical vest were resting neatly by the front door, accompanied by his heavy boots.

He had on his balaclava, signaling he was ready to leave since he didn't usually wear it around the house.

"for fucks sake, I could'a sworn..." he continued, clearly annoyed.

"Looking for this?" your voice sounded sultry and playful.

Simon Riley wasn't a man who was easily startled, but while he was deep in his focus, you managed to take him by surprise.

He snapped his head back to see you leaning against the doorframe. You were wearing a black, lacy lingerie set complete with a garter belt. The black straps and buckles kinda matched his, only were they delicate where his were robust.

The set hugged your body in all the right places, forcing his eyes to scan you a couple times over. It took him a second before his gaze finally made it to your head, only to notice there were familiar black-and-white features where your face used to be.

You were wearing his mask.

A chill ran through his body and he couldn't tell if it was good or bad.

He had done terrible things wearing that mask. He had seen horrifying sights through those eyes.

And there it was. Covering his favorite sight in the world. Part of him immediately hated it, but he couldn't deny that a part of him was intrigued.

"I'm afraid I can't just let you leave without a proper goodbye, Mister Riley."

Simon remained silent and unmoving.

You took a few slow steps closer to him before you pulled him towards you by one of the straps on his jacket and his rough hands finally found your hips. You could see his eyes darting around through the mask, desperately looking for yours.

He allowed you to push him down on the couch. His hands immediately reached for you again as you straddled him. Your soft exposed skin rubbed against the thick material of his work clothes.

"What's your angle here, sweetheart?" he finally muttered, trying to ignore the way his heartbeat was picking up as you started to slowly grind into the quickly forming bulge hiding in his pants.

"'Sweetheart?' I'm afraid that's no way to address your superior Mister Riley"

"My superior? S'that so?" he raised his brow, earning a nod from you as you nibbled on your bottom lip, trying (and failing) to suppress your grin. "How should I address you then?" he drawled in that low voice of his, rough hands softly tracing up and down your sides.

"Hmmm...It's Mrs. Ghost to you."

"Missus, huh? That what you are? My missus?" he couldn't help but smirk through his balaclava.

"I could be..." you drawled, leaning in closer as your hands ran over his broad shoulders. You lowered your head, planning to press a few teasing kisses against the soft fabric that covered his neck, when a soft thonk stopped you...

"Ouch...fuck" you groaned as the hard mask hit Simon's shoulder, in return also hitting your forehead.

A snort followed by a chuckle came from your bulky boyfriend and you felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

"Shut up..." you groaned, only making him laugh harder.

Fueled by a desire to knock your boyfriend's socks off, you decided to try again. You pulled his balaclava off and leaned down to his neck again, carefully moving your mask a little to press kisses to his now-exposed skin without it getting in the way.

You ground your hips into him once more, hands exploring his chest while your lips greedily suckled on whatever skin you found. When he groaned again, you could feel the vibrations through his throat, as they spilled straight into your mouth, making you smile against his neck.

"Not laughing now, are we? you teased, feeling yourself gain back some control.

"Hmmm...No Mrs. Ghost..."

"Gonna miss you..." you mumbled as you lowered your hands to his belt, slowly starting to unbuckle it

"Yeah? How much?" he groaned as your hand reached for his throbbing cock, taking it out of his pants

"This much..." you whispered, guiding his hand to your pussy.

His long fingers teased along the crotch of your panties, feeling how soaked they were already.

Your hands moved up and down his hard cock, earning another groan from him. Simon moved our panties to the side, inviting you to press his cock into your core.

You lifted your hips a little, teasing his tip through your soaked folds before sinking down on him.

"Fuck...Simon..." you moaned at the stretch, tipping your head back. He took the opportunity to suckle on your exposed flesh, leaving marks all over your neck.

"Always such a perfect fit..." he mumbled against your throat as he gave you a moment to adjust.

You couldn't help but whine as you started riding him. Gently bouncing up and down on his dick, you occasionally ground your clit against his pubic bone.

You peered at him through the mask, slowly picking up your pace. leaning back, you put your hands on his knees as you wound your hips a bit rougher, in sensual circles, riding him like he was a wild bull.

"Touch me," you commanded, pushing his hand to your pussy, "make me cum,"

He pulled back his hand for a second to spit on it before returning it back between your legs.

Because you were leaning back, his thick cock pushed straight against your G-spot. His left hand had a firm grip on your hip, certainly bruising it as he guided your movements while his right hand pushed down on your lower belly, his thumb just long enough to rub firm circles against your clit.

"Nghn....fuucckk..." you whined, feeling yourself drip down his cock in small gushes each time he pressed his cock upwards in your belly.

"feel you in my tummy, Si..." you mumbled "Fuck, feel it right here..." your hand covered the one he had on your belly, pushing it even harder.

"Yeah that's it....please... let me feel that pussy squeeze me one more time...need to feel it, love..."

You came with a loud moan, clamping down on his cock as your body shuddered, "M'cumming....fuck fuck cum with me Si....cum in my pussy, please" you babbled, making him lose his shit.

"Let me see your face, baby, please...need to see you" he moaned as his hands roughly grabbed your hips, holding you steady as he pounded into your gushing hole.

You tore off the mask, finally revealing your fucked out face to him.

He didn't waste any time before pulling you close and smashing his lips to yours.

Simon came with a loud groan, which you happily swallowed as he shot his hot seed deep inside your freshly rearranged guts.

He was a shuttering, whimpering mess beneath you. His rough hands rubbed your heated cheeks while his lips stayed connected to yours as you kissed each other through your highs.

Finally, your inevitable need for oxygen obligated you to pull back.

"Fuck..." he breathed

"Hmm..." was all you could get out as you sagged against him, allowing yourself to rest against his shoulder.

He pressed a few kisses on your head as he gently rubbed up and down your back.

"Y'okay?" he asked

"Hhmm..." You sat up again, "Are you?"

"Peachy," he grinned, "Just surprised, is all," he added, making you hide your face in your hands.

"I just wanted to...be sexy, I guess" you mumbled out, a little embarrassed now.

Simons's hands found yours, pulling them away from your face.

"My sweet girl....nothing turns me on as much as your pretty face."

A/N: I'M SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER AND ITS NOT GREAT BUT I COULDN'T GET THE IDEA OUT OF MY HEAD DHBCIZEBICBZICBIZEB

Taglist;

@metalbuckaroo

@princessayveke

@montsepliego

@scxrletrecsmarvel

@hopelesslyrogers

@eclecticpatrolroadlawyer

@tfandtws

@vicmc624

@ahahafudge

@enchantedbarnes

@wickedravyn

@pono-pura-vida

@amayaraestyles

@matchat3a

@fictional-hooman

@sebastianexplicit

@peaches1958

@avengersfan25

@jamneuromain

@tryingtoliveonmywishes

@mrsevans90

@daybreak96

@tiredqueen73

@fallingforunrealisticromance

@identity2212

@randomweirdoss

@ragamuffin285

@juliaorpll78

@geralts-yenn

@imjusthereforliam

@bangtanstoeart

@squeezyvalkyrie

@enchantedbytomandhenry

@superduckmilkshake

@kingliam2019

@bascmve01

@missgaygurl

@foxyjwls007

@mollymal

[fyodior]

It's like 6am now but brain is Thonking Things and I gotta get them out before I forget them

The thought of the day is: getting pregnant with twins

I just know oda would be the happiest out of them all to find that out, like we were supposed to have only one child but now we're getting a bonus one too?? We get to take care of two more kids?? Best day of his life. As soon as you tell him you're gonna have twins I can see him looking at you with his usual neutral face like this 😐 while you can hear the cogs spinning in his brain for a moment as he processes what you said fdjsjdj then a moment later he comes to terms with the fact that the two of you have really been blessed and he hugs you close to himself and tells you how happy he is and how much he loves you with a bit of a wobbly voice bc he's just that happy🥺 the next day he's going to his usual restaurant to tell the owner and the orphans how they're going to have two new friends soon

Dazai would be kinda shocked bc we're gonna have two mini demons running around the house instead of just one??? Am I gonna have to share my belladonna's affections with both of them??? On the outside he's going to act like a clown as usual, telling everyone in the ada about the news and having kunikida nag him for hours everyday bc DON'T YOU DARE MAKE YOUR CHILDREN BECOME SUICIDE MANIACS LIKE YOU!! cjsjsjs But on the inside, having a child with you was already a big choice that required lots of trust for him, but after he hears the news and accepts them he goes to oda's grave and tells him as well, he tells him that he's finally settled down with you and is going to have a family and how happy he is to get to do this this you. "I hope you're proud of me, Odasaku."

Chuuya was already reluctant having just one child with you bc he's a mafia executive and he knows his profession/position could endanger you (not that he'd ever let someone hurt you ofc) but then the two of you agreed to try and have one child to see how the situation would change. He didn't expect that at all when you told him you were having twins, he just stared at you with a mix of joy and shock and he didn't even know what to say. He didn't want to upset you so first he might go to kouyou to talk about his concerns, and after she reassures him that everything will be alright he comes back home and swears to himself to do everything he can to help you throughout the pregnancy and after the children are born. Once he's holding both of them for the first time in his arms he might try to act all tough but then he slowly breaks down into tears and cries with you

Now for fyodor, everything he does is calculated, so having you get pregnant might also have been a calculated act on his part. He decided that this time would be the best for the two of you to have a child bc his plans wouldn't interfere with the pregnancy and viceversa so he bred you extra hard yk djsksks what wasn't calculated tho was you having twins. He knew it was a possibility ofc but he didn't expect that to actually happen. He is obviously happy and gives you lots of praise and patience throughout the pregnancy, making sure your health is at its peak at all times and spoiling you with whatever you might want on your bad days. He might find it endearing when you're so close to crying bc your belly is too big and you can't koala-hug him on his lap anymore jdjsjsdjs you know that some people put headphones on their belly to make the child listen to music? He does that too with you but in the extra fancy way that is playing the cello next to your bed. I'm trying so hard to keep this sfw but my brain keeps chanting pregnancy sex pregnancy sex djdjsjdj

- 💍

my brain is also chanting pregnancy sex at all times always and forever. also everything utc because this got long as per usual

and you're so fucking right abt all of them kfljslf;ksjkd oda would be ECSTATIC because. idk if he necessarily wants a big family but he wants more than one, though the thought of you suffering multiple times for multiple babies is so painful for him. so the fact that you're getting TWO babies for the pain of only one pregnancy makes him soooo happy like it's probably everything he could've asked for. and when you're freaking out bc you were already worried about keeping up with care for one baby and now there's gonna be two, he easily calms you down and assures you he's gonna be there every single step of the way bc you're a team. and even tho any mention of the orphans fills me with debilitating pain it melts my fucking heart thinking abt how over the moon they'd be esp because they rarely see oda that happy. he would ADORE your body too

like you said with dazai it definitely would take a LOT of trust and chewing on the idea for him to even be willing to try for a baby, and that's with expecting only one at a time lskfjskd and i can see him only wanting one in general. he'd so paint on a dazai-typical happy silly face for his coworkers but yeah it'd be a pretty major internal struggle for him at first. and all of the agency is a little bit scared bc they could barely picture dazai with one kid but now he's gonna have 2 LMAO but they know you well and trust that you'll raise them well. and you know that dazai's heart is so big and he's such a good guy that'd genuinely want the best for his babies and would work so hard to be a good father, probably thinking of odasaku and what he would do a lot. and the thought of him sitting at his grave to tell him is fr tearing me apart that fucking hurts lfdsjsdkl i can see him bringing a bottle of liquor and pouring two glasses, just talking like. "two! crazy, isn't it? i think you'd be a great uncle." and he'd definitely tell his kids allll about their uncle oda </3

ur right because chuuya would act so brave but would fucking flip out - but he knows you're anxious as hell about it so you wouldn't hear a second of it. i agree i think that kouyou would be the first person he went to, like the only realistically responsible adult he knows flkadsfljdks when mori finds out he'll be so excited and want to dote all over them and have them play with elise but chuuya would be like only under my supervision you fucking weirdo LMAO he's a very smart guy who's amazing at troubleshooting and dealing with any situation but i think he struggles with it more in his personal life, though he'd find his footing eventually. he'd realize that the most important thing by far is supporting and helping you the whole way, doing anything and everything he can because whatever stress he's feeling you're definitely feeling tenfold. when chuuya loves he loves hard, and that applies to both you and his kids

i think fyodor would definitely be mostly prepared for the scenario of twins, but still be taken aback because he didn't quite expect it to actually happen aldfja;kdfj he would def spoil you to death even to the point where ur like i love you but chill. i think he'd be excited though. im guessing he's never had a loving, supportive family who genuinely cares for each other (and shows it) so i think (with time, i wouldn't say he's necessarily like this now) he'd be very happy to not only show love to a whole family but to receive it too. to be looked up to and revered with unconditional love by 2 babies is something unfathomable to him. he's similar to chuuya in that when he loves, he loves HARD. and every single waking second would be spent protecting you, which would obviously increase to protecting his 2 babies. it would be hard for him, but the now 3 of you are his entire world and he's very protective/possessive - no one is allowed to step anywhere near those kids for a while alkfjlskdjfds "can we please homeschool them?" "no. they're going to real school fedya." similar to oda but probably more so, he would absolutely adore and revere your changing body, would be absolutely obsessed with your growing baby bump that is obvi bigger with two babies. he wants to touch it and be near it and play music for it all the time, sometimes he talks to your stomach more than he talks to you aldsfjadslkj i love him so much :(

[siren-serenity]

cuteness overload

characters: euntae lee/vasco, gn!reader warnings: fluff a/n: - vasco is so cute asjldfljadslkjflkjasdf - feedback is appreciated!

You felt as if your heart would explode with the odd, unrhythmic beats of thump!, thonk!, thump! thump!, thonk!, thump! patterns that it spits out. Your teeth bite down on your lower lip, turning it bloody and cracked making your tongue dart out and taste the metallic blood taste. But dear gods and high heavens- Vasco was just too cute!

He sat, criss-cross applesauce, on the dirty pet shelter floors. His big, muscular frame took up the majority of the cramped space but it didn't stop the multitude of puppies and excitable dogs from clambering up him and yipping to get his attention. The noise was like a hazardous choir to the ears, filled with yips! and baritone woof! of all volumes but Vasco seemed unaffected. In fact, his smile just grew until his cheeks were blushing with glee. The corners of his eyes crinkled into tiny slits and his mouth was wide open as he giggled.

"Look, look!" He held up a tiny puppy (it was actually quite big but everything looks small to Vasco) and it's snout twitched before it yawned and nuzzled itself on Vasco's arm. You think to yourself: 'My life is over. Goodbye, cruel world!' because in that moment, Vasco's dark brown eyes glowed with absolute joy and happiness.

"The doggy," He breathed out, holding it to his eyes. They stared into each other's eyes; Vasco's eyes were practically hearts. "It kissed me!"

You only chuckled to yourself as you tried to steady your heart holding your recording phone. This moment was just too precious to not immortalize!

"You know we can take them on a walk, right?" You hummed and Vasco's head snapped to stare at you expectantly. The action made a resounding crack! and you winced but Vasco remained unaffected.

"C-Can we take these doggies on a walk?"

You shrugged, a gentle smile on your face. "I don't see why not. I'll just grab their leashes and take no more than five dogs!"

The corners of his eyes welled up. "But the dogs will be sad if I don't take them on their walk! Please?"

You shook your head. "Sorry, jagiya, but more than five will be overwhelming! They'll run wild and something might happen to them!"

Vasco sat in deep thought, rubbing his chin and brushing over the stubble growing on it. "Fine..."

You kissed the top of his forehead, watching with a pleased smile as Vasco's blush turned into a deeper shade of red. "I'll go grab the leashes. Wait for me!"

As you walked away, you couldn't help the giggle escape you as Vasco murmured to himself which dog to take, as if he was trying to decide the fate of the world.

Really! He was just too cute for your heart to handle~

[ecogirl2759]

Mako2; Electric Boogaloo

-Note-

All of these photos are from the Danganronpa 4コマ KINGS series. I do not own any of the drawings, but these photos are mine. All credit goes to Spike Chunsoft for the characters and the books themselves.

Check out part 1 here! Now away to part 2!!

(Lon g)

HE- JUST-- HIM--

He's just a smol boi lookin for love <3

*squish*

NO THAT'S WRONG!

Thonk

He's constantly worried about the status that is the goings on in his life

BANG :D

More fever dream Makoto. I still have no idea what's going on lol

LOOKIT HIM KICKIN HIS LITTLE FEET

He eepy, but he mad lol

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

HIS FACE MAKES ME WANT TO CRY

BE HAPPY PLEASE :(

LMAO he looks like he's choking on something

NOOOO SOMEONE HELP HE'S TURNING 8-BIT!!!

"Haha, I'm in danger!"

Makoto is just so done with life.

He bumped his head :(

What even is this

And he's off! Say bye to Makoto :D

~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Okay it's technically tomorrow but it's only midnight so it's fine)

There are so many pictures of him that by the time I was taking pics of the fourth book I realized I only had two spaces left until I reached my limit :(

But here he is! Makoto 2! Isn't he adorable :D

That's not a question, that's a threat :)

I wasn't planning on making this post so soon, but it was requested, so you shall receive!

Hope y'all enjoy another trip down Makoto lane lol

Next up: Celestia Ludenburg!

Contents || <-Previous : Next->

[nevermore-baby]

Hii i have requested about ajax x reader that is a vamp but is a late bloomer. And can't turn into a bat (lets just go with it ok...) and ajax comforts her and later on scares the shit out of her just for her to turn into a bat🦇 (its Christmas season there) its just something i came up with i would love to see youbwork on this

hey, i've tried my best to create something, so here it is! something for sure. Not really proofread as I kinda rushed to finish it, so lemme know if something is very out of it.

pairing: ajax petropolus x vampire!reader

warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, reader being a lil bitch (but ajax doesn't mind), me trying to be creative, use of pet names (baby, sweetheart), implied fem!reader but no pronouns used

word count: 1330

Loud clicks of the keyboard filled the room. It was, well, loud, and annoying, and repetitive, and you could swear if you heard it for another minute you would blow up from the inside like a fucking ballon.

“Goddamn it, Ajax! Can you not?” You exclaimed, throwing your hands in the air, then dropping back on the bed with a loud thonk.

Ajax stopped typing, turning to you, silent “what?” in his eyes.

“The typing. It’s loud.” You pointed to his computer, pouting. Ajax looked back and forth between you and the computer,

“Hey, I’m just doing my homework”, he said softly, “can’t you just wear your headphones?”

“They are out of battery”, you huffed, rolling your eyes.

“The other ones?” he enquired, raising his eyebrows.

“They are as well”, you mumble, quickly losing the heat from your voice. It was embarrassing, not only were you being so irritable, you were also incredibly forgetful - usually on top of everything, you were now constantly behind, Ajax having to go around and remind you of things thousands of times.

You were acting like a bitch and you knew it. You just couldn’t help it - everyone was so annoying recently. With The Hyde, and Enid wolfing out, and everyone being happy they defeated the whatever-that-guy’s-name-was, you couldn’t help but feel useless. Sirens helped evacuate the school, Enid fought The Hyde, Eugene and his bees saved Wednesday from ms Thornill. You were just there. Not anyone special. Part of the crowd. Not only that, you were also a late bloomer amongst those able to shift - and as Enid finally wolfed out, that made just a couple of you across the school. All you wanted was for your fucking bat to come out before parent weekend - or your mum, in her bat form, will nibble on you until your bones show. Or so you thought

You sat on the bed sulkily, too deep in your thoughts, before you noticed Ajax come over and settle near you. You looked at him, with his arms spread, leaning into a hug hesitantly, letting go a couple seconds later.

“What’s up, beautiful?”, he asked, sitting across you cross-legged, smile soft and gentle.

You sighed, not really knowing where to begin.

“I don’t know, gosh, it’s just… everyone has been so helpful during the attack, and I felt just so useless”, you said quietly, embarrassed.

“Hey, you weren’t useless, you helped just like everyone else-“

“I couldn’t even help the vampires!” you interrupted, voice quavering, tears swelling in the corners of your eyes. “Because my stupid bat form can’t come in!”

“Hey, hey, are you crying?” Ajax, eyes filled with worry, pulled you in, shifting around in bed to make you comfortable, before resting your head on his shoulder. For some minutes, he could only hear your muffled sobs, feeling the wetness from your cheeks on his T-shirt. He felt his chest ache for you, he hated seeing you cry, and the past weeks you’ve been more and more on edge about not being able to take your bat form, but there wasn’t anything Ajax could do. Or…

“Hey, sweetheart”, he called softly. You glanced at him owlishly, waiting for him to continue. 

“How about I help you with your bat form?”

“You can do that for me?”. You sat up excitedly, eyes glued to Ajax’s face, face lighting up with hope. And looking at your hopeful expression, Ajax knew - he would do anything to see you carefree and happy again. 

“Promise not to get mad at anything I do, though”, he added with a grin, making you laugh.

_________________________________________________________________________

You were really losing your temper. Ajax asked to meet up today - for the reason he would not disclose - near the abandoned shed used by Xavier for his drawing that apparently was the nicest meeting point out there. It was getting dark, and it kept raining, and despite all your attempts, all your messages and calls were unanswered - except the first one, when Ajax confirmed how it was “incredibly important for you to come to the shed”. So, not having much of a choice, you had to drag your ass in the cold and rain all the way to that freaking shed. 

When you arrived, there was no one in sight, but a set of footprints, not completely ruined by the rain, led to the front door. You followed them, hesitating for a second, before knocking on the door quietly. After getting no answer, you nudged the door slightly, opening it and revealing the darkness inside. Contemplating for a bit, you decided that Xavier won’t be too mad if you went in - the rain was getting heavy and you had no strength inside you to wait outside. 

The shed was dark and empty, rid of all the Hyde portraits, so you just stood, prepped against the wall, checking your phone once more. In the light coming from the screen you saw something move at the corner of your eye. You shifted uncomfortably, looking around, but seeing nothing but absolute pitch-black shed. You felt your heart skip a beat, heartbeat racing, and then you finally reached out to search the wall for the switch. Flickering the switch, you got blinded by the bright light for a split second, before you could finally see the shed for yourself - empty, like you thought. Humming to yourself, you went back to your phone. Suddenly, something moved once again and you froze. 

The curtain, covering the big easel with a canvas on it, shifted, although the air in the shed was completely still. 

“Hello?” You moved closer, crouching down to lift the curtain, but before you could do that, something big and black appeared from underneath it. A very angry-looking rottweiler - the one dog you were scared to death of - was baring its teeth at you, getting ready to lunge at you with its full body wait. 

You felt your palms sweat and your heart beat accelerate, flight or fight kicking in. Putting your hands in front of you, you moved slowly backwards, repairing quiet “it’s okay” and “please calm down”, before eventually bumping into the door. You knew not to make sharp, quick movements, but the heavy door would require you to turn around and pull it, so you counted to three in your head before turning around to open it. And it didn’t budge. Either you closed it too hard, or the dampness got to it, but you moving the handle up and down didn’t do a thing to it, but the clanking of the metal handle did get to the dog - judging by the loud growling coming from behind.

You turned your head, catching a glimpse of the dog jumping at you, before shutting your eyes, bracing yourself. And then… nothing happened. You felt… weird, to say the least. Light, and fluttery and… 

You opened your eyes, seeing black with occasional dots, and then when it hit you - you were a bat. You were in the air, so you flew up to the shelf, hanging down. You didn’t hear the dog bark anymore - so that was weird. But you were safe, and a bat, so the evening could be considered successful. 

________________________________________________________________________

“Can I go down now?” asked a long-haired boy, standing on the ladder so he could see through a little window on the wall of the shed. Ajax, one ear glued to the door, nodded quickly. 

“You think we did it?” he asked, reaching out for the handle. 

“Well, we didn’t hear any screams and she looked fine, just kinda… terrified, and then she just disappeared”, reported Xavier, carefully jumping off the last step of the ladder into the muddy puddle. 

“Baby, you’re in here?” Ajax asked, coming into the shed. “Baby?” He looked around, brows furrowed with confusion, before hearing a loud, high-pitched “ping”, something black flying right at him, planting itself on his face.

“Hello to you too, sweetheart.” He laughed, carefully detaching your talons from his face. 

[scarletsaphire]

33 writer's choice thonk frog

You get heroic amusement or maybe just Regular Pitch Pearl because apparently neither of you sent 33 Pitch Pearl and that's rude tbh.

Send me a ship and a number and I'll write a scene!

---

Fenton kept his eyes closed even after he had woken up. He knew it was the middle of the night since his alarm hadn't gone off, and he knew that whatever it was that woke him up could wait until morning. Probably.

The soft green light he could see through his eyelids proved him wrong.

"You know, the whole point of this was so that one of us could sleep in," he said before blinking the sleep out of his eyes and taking in the room.

Phantom floated at the foot of his bed, face twisted into a grimace. His arm hung limply from his side at an off angle that Fenton knew from experience hurt like hell. "I am sorry," Phantom said, softer than he ever spoke in public. "But I-"

"You needed me," Fenton finished. He kicked the blanket off and stood, making his way over to where Phantom was. Fenton hissed when he saw just how bad the injury was. It wasn't the worst one they'd ever had, but it definitely wasn't pretty. "Who did this one?" he asked.

"Skulker. The clever conniving creep got a lucky hit in."

"That is so uncool," Fenton said. "Anywhere else you need to run off to tonight?"

Phantom shook his head. "Skulker's mess is cleaned up. Amity Park should be safe. For now."

Fenton grabbed Phantom's elbow, tracing down gently to his hand and threading it through his fingers. "Then we're in no rush to get you back out there." He brought their entwined hands to his lips, kissing his knuckles gently.

"There is certainly a faster way to do this," Phantom protested, but the chill of their fingers becoming one took away from any real argument he might've made.

"Not as fun though," Fenton said. He continued to kiss up Phantom's arm, as carefully and delicately as he could. Every place he kissed quickly stopped being Phantom's arm, becoming their arm instead.

It was an odd feeling. Before the split, there hadn't ever been a distinction between the two. The joining now was different. Fenton could feel the faint pain from where the ectoplasmic construct that resembled a bone had broken, could feel the even fainter sensation of the jumpsuit against his skin beneath that, but it wasn't like he was the one feeling it.

Phantom was more complicated than most ghosts were. Most ghosts didn't bother with bones or veins or muscles or nerves. Some couldn't even be bothered with skin. After all, they didn't need those things to function, and the effort it took to maintain those things was more trouble than it was worth. Phantom did it naturally, a perfect copy of a human body, the body of the Danny that had entered the portal for the first time.

Fenton placed a kiss on Phantom's shoulder, lips coming back sticky with ectoplasm. The imitation was still more trouble than it was worth, most of the time. The bones still worked, and could still break, and could still hurt. It did give Phantom a unique advantage though.

Most ghosts, when they were hurt, needed time to stitch themselves back together. Phantom could do that too, in the same amount of time a ghost needed. But when he was given something to take from, a perfect copy of what his body should be? It could take barely any time at all.

Fenton kissed Phantom's neck, slowly making his way up towards his jaw, then across his cheek. He didn't think they'd be rushing this one.

When he finally reached Phantom's lips, the kiss was beyond awkward. They shared an arm, and part of their torso, but that didn't stop them from kissing until Fenton had nothing left to kiss. He opened his eyes to his once again dark bedroom, where he stood alone. He could feel Phantom's mind at the edges of his own, a mixture of annoyance and joy and contentment, the remnants of pain disappearing already.

Fenton stretched, reacquainting himself with his limbs, before sitting himself down at his desk and turning on his computer. It may have been the middle of the night, but he was already awake. No point in wasting their time together.

[starry-blue-echoes]

Thonking about StarSwap again -

The scene where Jonathan attacks Dio full force after he assaults Erina is probably going to end up going pretty differently - Jolyne is going to fight dirty, and be absolutely vicious in a way Jonathan could never manage.

Dio burned Danny alive in retaliation for Jonathan managing to successfully beat the shit out of him and scare him - what might he do in response to Jolyne's cunning and aggression?

holy fuck wait a minute yeah-

While the nature of the relationship likely wouldn't be the same as it would be in canon (after all, Erina would be like. 12/13 years old and Jolyne is 19), she still would've seen Erina as a very close friend. I don't doubt that Jolyne would still step in when those two other kids were bullying her, albeit unlike Jonathan her reasoning wouldn't be anything chivialry related. Hell, with the help of Stone Free, Jolyne might even be able to win that fight

Erina would still seek her out afterward, and while Jolyne wouldn't reciprocate the romantic feelings the other girl had...... well, Jolyne's pretty lonely. Sure there's Danny, but he is a dog, and Erina's kind and sweet and nice to hang around, and open minded enough that I think she'd be okay with Jolyne asking if they could be just friends

but of course, this is the 1880s in England, and naturally most people assume the pair to be romantically involved, especially given how close they are

Dio being one of them

you're absolutely right in how Jolyne is going to be brutal. Words can not properly express how overwhelmingly pissed she is going to be about all this, and what makes things worse for Dio is how no matter what he does, Jolyne just won't go down. Despite how much he punches and kicks, all his attacks seem either magically miss or just bounce right off (ofc, this is thanks to Stone Free), so Jolyne gets hardly a scratch on her. Hell, she's probably not even going to stop when George arrives, no matter what he says or what punishments he threatens to inflict.

now, do the both of these things make it easier for Dio to spin the story in his favor? Admittedly yes. I'd imagine she tries to tell George about what happened, about what Dio did, only to get brushed off because in his eyes Jolyne was the instigator here who beat poor, poor Dio near to death over some girl

I'd imagine after this incident, the shakey bond Jolyne might've had with George snapped completely

as for Danny........

Dio would probably still kill him. Sort of as a last ditch effort, a final attempt at getting some kind of control over the situation to remind Jojo of his place and what happens if he were to cross Dio

it backfires horribly

because before, Jolyne might've forgiven him. It would have taken YEARS and a lot of growth, but Jolyne is not blind to the environment and time they live in, where women are barely more than pretty objects and Dio has been given almost free reign as a noble's new adopted son. Before, she might've been able to forgive him because Dio was barely 12 and still a child and had likely learned a lot of things that weren't good. It could have been a mistake, one that someday he could look back at and be ashamed of

but then he kills Danny. He kills Danny by locking him in the incinerator and burning him alive

and Jolyne realizes he's doing this on purpose. That this wasn't just plain jealously, this was Dio actively doing everything in his power to make sure Jolyne would hurt

He's still 12. He's still a child.

But Jolyne will not take this lying down and she vows to herself she will never be his friend

(one night when she's alone, Jolyne feels the briefest bit of relief that she's here in this body. Just for a moment, just for a second, if only so the kindhearted 12 year old Jonathan who's messy journals sit on the bookcase didn't have to face Dio by himself)

[phlurrii]

in asking of more.. lore. may i offer my dog, Peppermint as an offering for knowledge?

this is peppermint, shes a 8yr old Maltese and King cavalier spaniel mix, and shes got shrimp for brains. now, feel free to ramble away. i can read a full essay of lore if youd like >:D

Been saving this absolute goober of a puppy till I had a thought to ramble about that wasn’t pure and utter spoiler territory X3

Anywho shout out to the 10 people who will read this ;D

Oki so, I’ve had this thonk in my head for a while about memory capacity and erosion. Given how bloody old Meau is and how much life she gets to experience living amongst other creatures unlike her brothers? I somehow doubt, even something like her, could possibly store THAT much. Even as humans our super computer brains forget stuff, so for Meau? It’s no different!

The gist is because she’s been alive for 4.5 billion years, she only had the capability to remember a couple hundred million years worth of memories, which- is still a lot- I know- but Arcues and her Brothers can remember basically all of it via having very little stimulation. So for Meau who has A LOT of stimulation, her capacity has shrank, but her value of memories is far greater!

It also doesn’t work in the sense of she can only remember the past few hundred million years, it’s in bits and pieces over her entire life span. Remembering the overall bulk of it the closer it is to her in present times. So she can remmeber things like her first time being released into the universe to make life, her first adopted children, meeting Missingno., creating legendaries, encounters and shenanigans over the course of time! But only the most important ones or ones that stuck with her.

Over time, all the mundane or less important things fade or erode form her memory. This includes friends she’s had that inevitably died, pokemon she adopted that she subsequently out lived, and even lessons/personal growth she’s… unable to recall. Likely relearning the same lesson/character growth again and again down the line as she ends up forgetting key pieces of herself and her behavior due to the growing lack of connections, companions, and relationships.

As everyone she befriends or loves dies before her, or if they match her immortality… she likely created them and there’s immediate that awkward power imbalance. Further, she can’t just make a herself a friend that’s “perfect” because then the connection isn’t genuine… it’s artificially crafted for her and her needs. Which ruins the point. So by proxy, she pulls away from making these connections and descends further and further into a spiraling pit of madness and loneliness.

Her memories continuously eroding as she forgets names, faces, voices, and silhouettes. Left with haunting shadows of no discernible shape, acting out memories that actively decay in front of her. Which bring us to modern day when she has a companion, where’s she a bit more stable and overall happier than she was at those dark moments… but the shadows still haunt her, the reality of forgetting still resides in her. At least having Noe besides her helps balance out end reminds her of things she used to be fully reliant on herself for ;3

[haste-waste]

Waiting

In which Link has it bad.

For @zelinkcommunity 's Zelink Week 2023 day one prompt: Yearning. Read on AO3 here.

--------------------

"What do you think?" she asks.

Zelda sits at the table as he prepares their dinner in advance. She's removing rice from the stalk to complement the humongous mushroom cap he's fileting in their kitchen. It's a nice afternoon in Hateno Village, and she is here, living with him like it was the most normal thing in the world.

He's still not used to this. She's asking him what he thinks? Even after one hundred years it still amazes him. She is one of few people who takes his thoughts into consideration and values his words, whether they be eloquent or otherwise.

He ponders her request for a moment, and switches to a smaller knife to remove the woody ends of the mushroom stem. "I think that's a proposition for Purah."

"I respectfully disagree. You've had far more practical field experience with the Sheikah Slate than she has. But if you truly think so, I will ask her."

Zelda wants to implement "stress tests" to the slate. Not the actual body of the slate, mind, but the potential and scope of the runes.

The conversation lulls for a short time. Then, she says something he doesn’t expect: "In all actuality, your observational skills are beyond my own when it comes to kinetics. Of course, your skills as a warrior are a factor. Your inherent ability to manipulate a multitude of objects with such precision over distances great and small is absolutely fascinating."

He scrapes the sliced mushrooms into the cast iron pan with the unsharpened edge of the knife. They sizzle enticingly and absorb the oil as he tosses them around the pan with a wooden spoon.

He's a bit taken aback by Zelda's commentary. It's not that big of a deal, it's just something he does. Things move all the time. With enough practice, she could fell a deer across Retsam Forest with the right equipment or skip a stone across Hateno Bay. She's a quick learner, a trait he greatly admires.

But he doesn't know what to say, so he shrugs. She gives him a long look. He knows she's planning something by the way her eyebrows shift. Then she grabs a dinner roll from the basket on the table and tosses it to him. Unthinking, he catches it.

He gives her a dry look, but she has other things in mind. "How fortunate that the door is open. I challenge you to hit Karson in the head with this from the doorframe."

"Do you have something against Karson?"

"Not at all! He does tend to laze about our front lawn, though. Maybe a delicious surprise will do him some good."

Something in his chest flutters at the sound of "our front lawn." So, he acquiesces. He takes the pan off the heat. Then, he gives a playful smile as he struts to the door and eyes his target. Karson sits cross-legged near the cooking pot by the towering oak tree. 10 meters, perhaps? That was manageable.

He yeets the bread perfectly—too fast to make a clear, sailing, parabolic arch, but not hard enough to leave a bruise. He hears Zelda gasp excitedly (Oh!) as the roll bounces with a thonk off of Karson's forehead.

"Hey!" he shouts. They both freeze in anticipation. Uh oh. He sees the both of them standing dumbly in the doorway, obviously watching.

He looks down, seemingly in slow motion. Then, his face lights up like a child at winter solstice.

"Thanks for the bread!" he calls, giving a friendly wave. Amusingly, Bolson attempts to snatch it from him as Link gives a half-hearted wave and shuts the door. Satisfied, he returns the still-hot cast iron pan to the stove and continues sautéing the mushrooms.

"I cannot believe you actually did that," Zelda says, heaving the rice pot into place on the stove. Anything for you, he thinks. He moves out of the way as she stokes the coals within, shutting the door with a clang. Then she brushes her hair out of her face. It frames her chin beautifully. "It was a perfect throw. Excellent work!"

"I try," he says, flustered by her continued praise, and extinguishes the urge to kiss her cheek.

--------------------

He wants to kiss her all the time.

Goddesses, does he want to kiss her.

He wants to kiss her when she finishes writing in her journal and beams at him from the loft. Or, when she makes tea in the morning and groggily places a cup on the end table near his armchair, made just how he likes it. He'd love to after she makes a sudden breakthrough with her research, or when she is always surprised to see a cup of water after she cuts firewood. He wants to kiss her when she gives him that look, like she's been gazing at him for a while over a book cover but tries to be nonchalant. He wants to when she is reminded of something from before and she clings to him as proof he's still here and breathing. He wants to after their ancient tech hijinks and she's laughing maniacally after something of Purah's inevitably breaks or explodes. Or when she leans on his shoulder after listening to him share his thoughts and feelings. Or, when she holds him after he remembers something from before or has a fleeting, vivid nightmare. But especially when she smiles warmly at him while he cooks, and just does his thing.

But the moment never seems right.

He fears that it may be the wrong time, or she doesn't want to, and a whole other list of reasons that involve her comfort and boundaries. The few times they had were brief, either on the cheek, forehead, or the exceedingly rare chaste goodbye kisses they share when one of them leaves on a journey somewhere. Besides the one wonderful time on Tuft Mountain where he confessed and she reciprocated, it's been slow. Which is fine, truly. He's happy to have her in his life at all, so he won't complain. He doesn't want to, or even need to complain. He is happy, but he's also curious at the same time. Those two ideas can coexist, right?

Was it the right time to be more romantic for her? How does he even go about this, the whole idea of kissing her?

What would it be like, though?

He's pondering this as they walk back from the Hateno ancient tech lab. The nights are growing chillier as they enter autumn proper.

"Can you believe it? Purah was thrilled to have the data we collected from the slate. We're one step closer to making another one! Oh, I'm so excited—"

She's sunny, a contrast to the dusk which settles around them. They pass a blue flame lantern, and it casts wonderful shadows on her face that emphasize her jaw. He'd like to kiss her there too, if he's allowed.

"We'll have to gather more, of course. Are you alright with that? It may be more extreme, like hurling boulders and the occasional moblin, if there are any left."

Any left? She sees his confusion. "You're incredibly thorough when it comes to pest control."

He supposes so. The tangible delight of freezing moblins mid-swing with Stasis and watching them careen through the air by their own club is entertaining, to say the least. Or, that one time he blasted a boulder from Hyrule Plateau all the way to the desert. He'd like to see her do that, why hasn't he thought of mentioning that yet?

"That'd be fun." He means it, and she is delighted. "But make sure I'm not a test subject this time."

Her entire body cringes. "That pains me still. I've never regretted anything more in my life."

"I mean, it was only a few feet. I've had worse." He shrugs, remembering the small explosion after an ancient tech malfunction. One time he slipped while shield surfing Mount Hebra and fell for nearly a mile. He still wonders how he's still alive, Mipha's grace or otherwise—

She's oddly quiet. "I bet you have."

Oh. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"No, it's quite alright. Forgive me," she says gently. Then she smiles to herself. "Even before, you took heavy hits. You tend to fly like a rag doll. It's still a shock to see, but you're unfathomably resilient."

He laughs. That was true. Again, he wonders how he's not dead but stops as she shivers.

This is one of the rare instances where she actively walks in front of him instead of by his side. So, he closes the gap, concerned. She stares off into the distance for a moment.

"Are you alright?" His voice is soft.

"Yes, why?"

"You were shivering."

Her expression before was one of remembering. He can tell something's bothering her, but what?

"It's a bit chilly this evening, that's all," she says while rubbing her hands together. "I was so excited to get to the lab, I forgot my cloak." Her tone is lighter, so she likely means it. "But yes! On my life—" his heart pangs at that, "—you will not be an accidental test subject. Unless you want to be a test subject, but that is your sole decision and we will have to adjust the experiment to keep you safe—"

She pauses as his cloak settles over her shoulders. "Here." He can't have her being cold, she's sensitive to it. Besides, they're not far from the house. He continues walking and stops when she doesn't follow.

Several scenarios come to mind as to why she hasn't. He instinctively checks their immediate surroundings. His hand itches for the sword on his back. Focus. No humanoid shadows in the trees. No monsters in the field or above their heads. He angles his head and sees nothing suspicious. Then, back to her.

Is she blushing? It's hard to tell. For one so open with her thoughts, she can be hard to read at times. Maybe there's a hint of one at the corners of her cheeks. But maybe he's wishing for it. Who knows. If he places his hands on her cheeks like he's been wanting to for months, he could find out...

"Thank you? That's very kind of you. But won't you be cold?" she asks, hesitant to adjust it properly around her.

Seeing her in his clothes makes him feel far warm enough. So, he walks back to her and fastens the cloak around her neck—another place he'd love to kiss—bundles her up and turns to continue forward toward home where stew should be ready. He hopes she likes it. It's a mix of lentils and roasted mushroom, with a gravy made from the unsweetened milk of a palm fruit. It's savory and filling, which is something they both tend to enjoy. "I'm fine. Besides, we have a warm meal waiting for us at home."

"Ah yes, priorities." Her steps are as light as her demeanor. To his complete surprise, her hand wraps around his own as he watches her settle into the cloak. Satisfied, she matches his pace, and they continue the walk home in comfortable silence.

She's been quiet since they arrived. The kitchen is bathed in golden light from the overhead lanterns. Their home is far more comfortable since her arrival. Well, his home. He'd like to call it theirs, but he'll have to ask her about that at a later time. For now, he hums part of a tune that Kass would play in the evenings at Rito Village as he stirs the stew, waiting for the rolls to warm again in the clay oven.

He turns, and the table is set. "Thank you for loaning me your cloak," she says, placing down a final dish for some butter. "I'll hang this up."

He nods. "Dinner's almost ready," he announces after eyeing the stew.

"—Oh! Right." Confused by her tone, he turns, but she's already in her seat across the table. Two patches of red hint at the corners of her jaw as she draws her hair behind her ear, fidgeting.

...Cute.

He gives her an eyebrow and sets the stew on the table. He savors the look on her face when she takes the first bite, nodding slightly with her eyes closed. She gestures with her spoon, then digs in. Success. They enjoy a quiet dinner.

He hums again while they do the dishes. He places the iron pot back on the stove for it to fully dry. He's charmed to see Zelda with her sleeves pushed up, scrubbing away. She has nice arms. She has nice...everything. Something's on his mind, though. Zelda has been notably quiet since the walk home.

"What are you thinking about right now?" he inquires. She's the one who usually asks that question.

A dish is placed in his hands. She's digging at the stubborn film of dried gravy that lines their bowls. Her eyebrows knit in concentration.

Then a wonderful smile graces her face. "Honestly? I'm incredibly happy to be here with you."

It takes a moment to process this. By now, she's finished with the dishes and hauls the water outside.

Upon her return, she takes the towel from his hands and dries her own. She's so close and he just wants to…

—What she just said was so nonchalant, like it was a definite fact, a universal truth.

"Same here," he says far too inarticulately. She looks down at him in vague confusion as he stands directly in front of her. "I'm happy that you're here too." And her smile returns. So lovely. He can't spit the rest out. He's getting better at saying what's on his mind, but he stumbles when he wants to most. I'm happy to be anywhere with you. She squeezes his wrist with her slightly damp hand.

She's up in the loft now, continuing her mission for the past few weeks—pouring over several years of Purah's research notes. He can tell that she was itching to get back to work. He doesn't know how she can do that for hours. Sure, ancient technology is fascinating and filled with secrets. Purah's handwriting, on the other hand, while flawless, is tiny and the pages are dense. Reading that for hours would give him a migraine. He’s happy that he researches the ancient histories instead.

He watches her from below as she writes. He visualizes the ancient gears turning in her head. How she fits so much knowledge in there, he doesn't know. She is like a sponge, soaking up information from anywhere and anything. He's only seen brief glimpses of her journal, but it's just as detailed as their long conversations as they travel, work, and live. There's a word for people like her, and like her mother. Was erudite the term Mum used for the Queen? He frowns, trying to remember. Zelda definitely has her mother's brains.

She brushes her hair behind her ear again, contemplating for a moment. He's drawn to the elegant slope of her neck. What would it be like to kiss her there, just below her ear? Would he be able to discern the subtle notes of fragrance from the soap she uses? Would he hear her heartbeat? The sound of her sighing?

...He needs to empty his head.

"I'll be out back," he calls upstairs.

"Have fun!"

He heads outside, taking his cloak to fend off the chill. He goes to put it on but stops as he realizes that it smells different. It smells like her. Clean, fresh. Floral, like blue nightshades. Before, it didn't smell like much of anything. Now, he can't stop thinking about it. Every time he moves he can smell her. It's really nice, actually.

He goes to the small stable by the house and checks on their horses. Epona is out grazing near the small pond behind the stable. Equs, the chalk-white descendant of Zelda's old horse, mows down his pile of hay. He gives his snout a pat and continues on. He was a pain to tame, but now he's a likable and reliable horse. Epona likely whipped him into shape. She's a good influence.

He returns to the yard. Epona trots over and butts her head into his chest.

"Hey! Whoa, girl—" it's almost like he can read her. She's sniffing around his pockets. "No apples today. But I do have this for you and the big guy." He presents a humongous, tasty looking carrot. She takes it happily and chomps away. She follows him back to the stable as he stocks it up for the night, giving the other carrot to Equs in the meantime.

"Goodnight," he calls. They look at him, almost like they know the meaning behind his words. It's a nice thought, but they're still horses.

Next, he investigates the apple tree behind the house. It looks like he picked most of them, but he wants to be thorough before the frost sets in. He finds a few up on the highest boughs. Then, he clambers down to a lower, sturdier branch and sits.

It's quiet. It's a bit chilly. All in all, a beautiful night. The air is crisp, making a wonderful rushing sound through the leaves that will likely begin to drop in a week. He can't smell winter in the air. He can only smell the traces of her lingering on his cloak. He wraps it around him a bit more, closes his eyes, and listens.

Nights like these are great for clearing the head. It's easier and also harder to bring his mind to the earth, especially since Zelda lives with him now. They're living together and experiencing what "normal life" is like. He never would have dreamed of this a century ago.

Not even in his wildest fantasies did he ever think of peaceful domesticity. He didn't have much time, if any, to fantasize about any sort of future with her. He could only replay scenes in his head where she gave him affection, like the time on death mountain where she pushed his bangs back, and when she held his hands after giving him custom made gloves for his birthday.

His other fantasies involved a life outside of fighting. He once wanted to own and run the pub with his grandparents. Or be a ranger, like Mum. Or be in the royal guard, like Dad. Well, he was the latter, in a way, but with Zelda as his Queen. Maybe he would settle down with a husband or a wife outside of his duty in that future that is now the past.

He finds himself reminiscing. He had a partner once, a fellow knight named Pietr a few years before he became Zelda's chosen knight. He was from Lurelin, his first kiss, and his amicable (and only) ex. They were young, still children, and they were happy. Pietr was wise to break it off because of their changing duties. Not even a year later he found himself becoming Zelda's chosen knight. At least Pietr survived the Calamity. It sounds like he had a good life, actually: his great-grandson Tauro is living proof of that.

But if Mipha knew about Pietr or his feelings for Zelda before the Calamity, she would have been devastated. But there's nothing he could do. She was his calm, poised, and far cooler partner on the battlefield and childhood friend. He loved her too in many ways, yes, but marriage? He's thought long and hard about this before during his travels. Not marriage. He wouldn't be able to provide what was required by her birthright. He would have died far before she did. She was his first love, but that changed as soon as the sword called to him at 13. Why Mipha is on his mind, he doesn't know. It's not painful anymore. She's gone, it's the past, and he's moved on. He hopes, wherever she is now, that she's happy and at peace along with Urbosa, Daruk, Revali, and his loved ones.

About a half hour later, he drops down from the tree, his thoughts released to the earth and the wind. He feels a bit lighter.

After practicing some swordsmanship, he investigates their firewood reserves beside the house and is proud to see Zelda's handiwork. They'll be set for several weeks. The stars glimmer above him and he spots a shooting star.

He doesn't wish on it; he has everything he could possibly want. Someone else can have that wish.

It's very dark now. He heads back inside.

"Hullo," he says, kicking his boots off near the door.

"Hi," he hears from upstairs, her tone less enthusiastic and more tired. She’s always one to keep busy.

He hesitates before removing his cloak, wanting to smell her for a little while longer.

He relaxes in his reading chair and reads a heavy book that Paya loaned him on ancient Sheikah tales. The lore of Hyrule has always fascinated him. He's glad it also helps Zelda with her research. Her specialties are within the royal family, while his is broader. It's the opposite with ancient technology: he’s all too familiar with the royal guard class of weapon while she knows practically anything about everything. He's glad that they find ways to help each other to solve some ancient mysteries.

The candle is burning low by the time he finishes a long chapter about a third Yiga invasion several hundred years ago. He's a bit tired, but not enough to sleep. 100 years of sleeping will do that to someone, he supposes.

It's nearly silent in the house now. His ears strain, trying to pick out the faint sounds of Zelda's wax pencil or beloved green ink being scratched against a page. He turns down the lanterns from the ceiling (the contraption Zelda made to do this is genius) after getting ready for bed.

He heads up to the loft.

Zelda has fallen asleep at the desk. Her face is squished against the open pages of her journal, and her wax pencil barely stays within her relaxed grip. The flicker of the candle gives her hair and face a warm glow. His heart melts.

Her hair is woven gold, a crown upon her head—even though she refuses to wear her birthright.

…Just like she refuses to rest when she needs it most.

He's hesitant to touch the gentle slope of her shoulder, but he does anyway.

"Zelda?" His voice is soft. She doesn't respond. He gives her a tiny shake. "It's getting late."

"Hm?" Her grip on the pencil returns.

"It's almost midnight," he says.

"Just a bit longer—" she slurs, rubbing her face with her arm and righting her posture. "I have to get this done."

"Don't push yourself too hard," he adds, squashing the urge to kiss her cheek.

He goes to his Kakariko-style futon on the floor, with Zelda's nearby. Part of him wonders if her bedding smells like her too.

...He's more tired than he thought.

It's kind of funny. Even though they live together and have confessed their feelings to each other, they don't share a bed. They don't share much affection, really. He doesn't mind, though. In fact, his actual bed hasn't been used since the few days before they defeated Ganon together. He wanted her to have it when she moved in from Kakariko, but she adamantly refused. Neither of them would budge, so this was the best compromise: two comfy futons on the floor. The bed is for guests. Besides, if she took the bed, he wouldn't be able to see from a distance how serene she is when she sleeps, just like a century before. It might be nice, though. But that's for a future time.

He takes out his hair tie and brushes his hair back, putting the comb back on top of the bedside table. He hears a thud.

Ah, she's fallen asleep again, judging by her posture. She jolts awake, shakes her head, and stubbornly continues to work.

"You should sleep," he says, resting his forearms on top of his knees. He perches his head on them to watch her.

"There's still so much—" she replies after a while. "The more I do, the closer we are to understanding things."

Something in her tone reminds him of before. It's the same determination that almost made her freeze to death or drown in the sacred springs. Her tone is the same from those quiet nights in her study, using the little time they had to try to stop Ganon's return. Is their project eating away at her?

"I'm losing time," she says, picking up her pace. This confirms his worries.

He pads barefooted across the floorboards to the desk. He's tired too, but not as much as she is. She was up before dawn this morning. He allows his fatigue to lessen the iron grip on his affections.

He's standing to her right. He drapes his left arm across her shoulders and lightly pulls her into his side.

"There's always tomorrow."

He drifts his thumb across her shoulder. He's delighted when she relaxes into him. He can catch hints of her floral soap from here. It's a comfort. He stares at the stack of books and the flickering candle, enjoying the warmth and the closeness.

"There's always tomorrow," she asserts after a time.

He continues drifting his thumb, trying to memorize the feeling of her weight resting against him. She sighs, relaxing even more, almost as though she melts into him.

"Come on, time for bed," he says, but she doesn't respond. He looks down at her.

She's asleep.

Aww!

He makes a mental note to keep an eye on her on late nights like these. He doesn't want her late night working to become a bad habit.

"Zelda," he says playfully, giving her a little shake. She doesn't awaken. Her breathing pattern confirms it. He's learned to keep an eye on that during the nights he doesn't feel like sleeping. Usually her breathing changes before a nightmare. Since the project started, she's had more than usual, the ones where she tosses and turns, but never enough to wake. The waking ones were far worse—the first few months after Ganon's defeat were brutal on her. He's been worried, but they don't seem to affect her when she wakes. He secretly fears that they do.

Fortunately, her breathing is slow and measured. It would be a shame to ruin this rare chance at deep sleep by waking her.

She's completely out. So, it wouldn't hurt for him to try something he's been wanting to do for over 100 years.

He moves the chair out from the desk as gently as he can. Carefully, he scoops her up into his arms. Her head rests between his collar and shoulder. Her breath flutters on his neck and all he can smell and feel is her and wow—he can't help pressing his face into her soft, sleek hair.

He stands there, just for a moment, and takes everything in.

This is far better than he imagined.

As much as he wants to, he doesn't overstay his welcome. He takes a few steps over to their futon and kicks out her comforter with his foot. He begrudgingly rests her down on the mattress. She's still in her day clothes. He tucks her in, admiring the delicate curves in her wrists, the shadows under her eyes, and the serenity on her face.

What a marvelous gift it is to have her here. How wonderful it is to share each day with her in peace and safety. All the hardships they faced over a century were worth it. Everyone in Hyrule can rest as easily as they can now. All thanks to her. He just tossed Ganon around a bit before she obliterated and sealed it off for eternity. The thought makes him smile.

He's stretched his luck far enough today. He could stand to stretch it a little more.

Sneakily, he places a kiss upon her hairline.

I love you, he wishes to tell her. He thinks about it instead. She'd never hear it, even if he said it aloud. She must know by now. He doesn't know why he hasn't said it to her again after all this time. Maybe because the time wasn't right? Anyways—

Satisfied, he blows out the candle on the desk and returns to bed. He watches her chest rise and fall as moonlight emphasizes her silhouette. His eyes close.

--------------------

When they open, it is still dark outside, likely just before dawn. There is a low, golden glow beside him. He rubs his eyes. Did he leave the candle burning? No...he's immediately suspicious and worried, and turns to Zelda.

Her breathing is ragged. Her bedding is a twisted, constricted mess around her. She's curled on her side with an arm partially extended toward his mattress. Her hand flickers with golden, holy light.

Oh no.

He hasn't seen her like this in months, since the springtime right after Kakariko at the very least. Alarmed, he immediately crawls over to her just as she begins whimpering under her breath. He has to wake her up. Not doing so prolongs her suffering. He catches whispers of phrases and her hand glows more intensely. She looks sickeningly pale, the thin sheen of sweat on her brow worsening in the washed out moonlight.

She tosses and turns, lying supine. Her jaw is rigid and her face does not hide her distress. "Link—" her voice is filled with despair as she thrashes and shudders. "—Save yourself." He falls to his side, supporting his weight with his elbow, and leans near her in an attempt to reach for her shoulder. He doesn't quite make it—she jolts awake with a pained gasp. "NO!"

Her eyes darted frantically around the room, disoriented and terrified.

"Are you–augh!"

She crushes him against her chest.

She clutches blindly and a trembling hand lodges itself in his hair, keeping him against her. It does not hurt. The side of his face rests on her pillow, away from her own. She shudders, holding him like he might be snatched from her arms at any moment.

"Link." Her voice is utterly broken.

Tension radiates from her. Her shoulders shrink inward. "You're really here," she asserts, seemingly trying to convince herself about reality. His heart breaks.

"You're really—"

She begins to cry. It's barely audible even while he's against her. Her grip tightens, and he’s thankful that his entire body weight isn't on her. Her free hand grips and bunches fistfuls of fabric from his shirt.

He lays there for several moments. He's worried about suffocating her, so he pushes himself up with his left arm and she follows, refusing to let go. He wraps his other arm around her and sits them up. She pushes herself into the empty space within his lap instinctively, draping her legs together across his thigh to lessen her weight on him. Her chin rests over his shoulder as he adjusts them. Finally, she's secured in his arms, and he relaxes a fraction.

"You're safe," he breathes. "It's over now."

He feels the fabric on his shoulder become damp with her tears, and it pains him that she's had to endure so much. He rests his head against her own and holds her, shielding her from the world as long as he can. She’s done the same for him when he has nightmares. He can't shield her from her past experiences, as much as he desperately wants to do so; he hopes this is good enough. It's seemed to work so far since she returned from her imprisonment.

"Thank you," she weeps bitterly. He ignores her thanks and holds her tighter. She's safe. He will do anything to keep her that way. His own anxieties lessen as he holds her.

Someday, he will tell her how much he loves to hold her—not just when she's crying. It makes him feel relied upon, trusted, and like he's providing for her somehow, even though they are equals. But now isn't the right time.

At some point, he starts running his hand up and down her back. It's something she has always done when he's in a similar state of mind. It seems to help. Her shuddering slowly subsides.

Her breathing relaxes just as the sky begins to lighten, turning from deep purple to that particular shade of blue green. Soon, she delicately removes her fingers from his hair and nestles her face into his collar, completely exhausted.

"I'm alright now," she breathes into his neck.

He nods as best as he is able. He assuages his anxieties about not helping her enough by continuing to run his hand along her back.

What must she be feeling right now? He can't imagine the horrors she had seen during a century of isolation with the embodiment of evil. Her grip on his shirt returns.

"I was doing so well," she says dejectedly. She releases her grip, continuing to hold him. "It's been so long since I…" her voice fades for a moment, "...since I reacted this severely."

"You are doing well," he affirms.

"I don't want to be doing well if it means I'm watching you die in my dreams."

His hand pauses halfway down her back. "Since when?"

"Since Ganon. I hadn't been remembering my dreams for quite a while."

Since Ganon? Damn…he remembers her saying that they had stopped happening a few months ago. It’s a shame they returned to haunt her.

Something else is weighing on her. He's determined to find out what.

"Do you know why they came back?”

She shakes her head. "I don't."

He sits and ponders their conversations from yesterday, rubbing her back again, trying to find a source that triggered her dreams.

"Did you put me to bed?" she says after a time, drawing him from his thoughts.

He nods. "You work too hard."

"I don't work hard enough,” she says, deflated.

He frowns. "That's not true."

"It is, Link. The last time I didn't work hard enough you died. And now, you could easily die again if I'm not careful. You were already injured with the new Sheikah slate project. I must work as hard as I can to achieve our goals and keep you safe."

With that, he remembers their conversation on the walk home from the lab. It all clicks in the span of a second.

"I am safe."

She freezes in his arms. "I know, but…"

"I don't want you to die again," she professes. "I could barely handle it before. I don't know what I'd do if it happened now." He can feel the tension and panic building within her. "But what if it does? What if everything goes to pieces again? What if you get hurt? Hurt enough to die? What if you can’t be healed? What if I'm the one who hurts you? The person I care for most will be dead and it will be all my fault—"

"Stop."

She jolts a bit at his tone.

He cuts her off before she can apologize for her words by adjusting her head to rest near the center of his chest.

"Listen," he says, pressing her into him. "I'm alive.” He taps his chest, and breathes slowly, keeping his heartbeat as steady as he can.

He doesn’t plan on dying anytime soon. Staying alive makes her happy. And he likes making her happy. It’s a win-win scenario.

"—And I'm not going anywhere. I'm certain of it."

"How?" she interjects. "You can't possibly know that."

He releases his grip around her. She sits up and stares at nothing in the general direction of his mattress. Her eyes are glossy and irritated red.

The words come naturally to him, as though they are plain as day. He thanks the goddesses for that.

"Zelda, you kept me safe for over one hundred years." He takes her hand and holds it to his chest. "I know that you will never stop protecting me, just like I will never stop protecting you." He hopes this statement is the most obvious thing in the world.

She seems to move to object. To his surprise, she stares at his hand and nods, swallowing thickly. Then, she takes a long, slow, and deep breath. When she opens her eyes, he continues. She's listening—she always is.

"Yesterday, you told me that on your life, no harm shall come to me. I said the same thing about you to your father and Urbosa when I became a Champion at your side, an oath I still hold to this day."

He stops, thinking for a moment. "I can't promise that I won't get hurt. You can't promise that to me either, before and now. I almost died...a lot. You were tortured by Ganon. It gave you actual scars." He takes his spare hand and brushes the white scar that's like shattered glass across her collarbone. "As much as we tried, we couldn't keep each other completely safe. But your determination to keep me safe regardless is exactly why I am certain, just how you are certain with me."

He briefly squeezes her hand for emphasis.

She seems despondent, then sighs. "That's fair," she says after a moment. "I didn't think of it that way. You described it so eloquently."

This strengthens his resolve. "And besides," he continues, "you said it yourself: I'm unfathomably resilient."

She smiles the smallest of smiles. "That I did."

"I'm not going anywhere," he affirms, gently and assuredly. "And neither are you."

They sit quietly for a while. She sits with her eyes closed as she collects herself. He watches her carefully, taking in every minor detail, like the tiny movements in her shoulders as she breathes, how her hair barely touches the neckline of her tunic as she slouches, and how warm her hand feels against his chest.

He breathes in slowly, deeply, and feels her hand press back against him.

The sun begins to rise, casting warm beams of light throughout the house.

Her hand slips from his grasp. She rearranges both of his hands and holds them, resting them on her lap, and stares intently where they meet. Her hands are warm, strong, and lightly calloused, something he's never had the opportunity to notice before. She's always wearing gloves when they travel.

"Thank you, again." She runs her thumbs across the rippling scars on his hands. There's a wonderful softness to her expression; the deep orange hues of dawn cast over her face and mollifies any traces left from the evening. He's captivated. "I appreciate you more than anything." Her sincerity is undeniable to him, an expert in second guessing.

Warmth blossoms in his chest at that.

"You must really like me or something," he muses.

She looks up at him and her eyes are stunning, like emeralds in the morning light. "Love," she amends, and it takes his breath away. "I really love you."

He rests his forehead against her own and breathes her in.

"I really love you too."

Her hands remove themselves from her lap and rest on his cheeks, her thumbs drifting across his cheekbones.

How badly he wants to kiss her.

But she's had a rough night, and could use some sleep.

"Are you up for a little more sleep?" he asks gently. Her hands withdraw from his cheeks, and he already misses their warmth.

"I'm a bit scared to. But if I do not, it will just get worse."

She eyes her futon and sighs. "I should change, too." She gets up and walks across the loft, shrugging off her blouse in the process. Part of him would be startled to see her in her sheikah underthings but that didn't matter at the present. He's seen them before in plenty of different mundane contexts. How many times has she seen him shirtless? How many times have they swam together or spearfished in only their underthings, the only clothes they owned that were waterproof? And besides, it doesn't matter anyways. People need to change before bed. He needs to stop being weird.

While she's gone, he eyes her futon, thinking. When she returns, she wears a thin, dusty blue tunic that he got her in Lurelin, and she stops short.

Their mattresses are pushed together. He adjusted and turned down her linens while she was away.

"I thought it might help," he says sleepily.

"That's kind."

She crawls into bed. To his amazement, she continues crawling until she's right beside him, nestling into his chest. Luckily, his arm is already underneath his pillow. He gets a lungful of her—

"Is this alright?" she whispers.

Goddesses, yes it was. He pulls her closer and promptly falls asleep before he can second-guess himself.

--------------------

His eyes open briefly, and he sees her peaceful, sleeping face. Relieved, he closes them again as sleep beckons.

--------------------

He's somewhere between dreaming and waking and it's pleasantly warm. His comforter is the perfect weight, and there is a wonderful smell around him. He doesn't want to wake up. The pillows are so soft, and something's gently caressing his cheeks.

…Someone is caressing his cheeks. It feels nice. He remembers the circumstances, and opens his eyes to see her.

"Good morning," Zelda says.

"Morning," he responds groggily, thoroughly pleased.

“More like afternoon, now,” she adds sheepishly, removing her hands from him. “Did you sleep well?”

She is golden in the sunlight. Her smile could make flowers grow. The shadows under her eyes have returned to their normal shade, much to his relief. He can’t hide the smile on his face. He hasn’t moved the entire morning, apparently, since she’s exactly where she was when he fell asleep: in his arms. But she smells even better, and her hair looks slightly damp and towel-dried. She must have washed up, then. She runs her thumbs across his cheeks again. He leans into her touch. She makes a quiet noise of content at that.

He nods, not knowing how to sum his feelings (I slept very well and maybe we should sleep like this every night and I love to hold you and—)

If he could paint, he’d paint a portrait of her right now, with all her beautiful hues of gold, apricot, green, and the dusty blue of her tunic. He’s still a bit sleepy. He’s lost the want to hold a grip on his affections.

Then, she seems to realize what she’s doing with her hands. She removes them and glances at him cautiously.

"What are you thinking about right now?" she inquires, staring into his tunic and echoing his own question from the day before. She's avoiding eye contact for some reason. It's a shame—he could easily get lost in her eyes, as sappy as that sounds.

Then, she peeks at him over the edge of his bedsheets endearingly. It’s rare for her to act like this, so shy and meek. While she is quieter now in general, she’s much more self-assured than she was before the Calamity. She’s so cute!

"I want to kiss you," he thinks automatically. He goes to say something innocuous but stops when he sees her eyes widen.

Her face blossoms into a light shade of pink.

Wait...shit. Shit. Did he just say that out loud? The one time he needs to moderate his thoughts he doesn't. He instinctively covers his mouth with his hand. He just ruined everything oh goddesses someone execute him shit shit shit shit shit SHIT

He's still panicking when she meets his eyes again. The corners of her jaw are the most flushed he’s ever seen them. Their gaze holds for an agonizing and overwhelming moment.

"By all means," she breathes, her meekness immediately changing into relief.

No way. Is she serious?

"Are you sure?" he questions, immediately doubting himself, suddenly very nervous. He doesn’t want to overstep or make her uncomfortable or be selfish or—

"I wondered if you'd ever kiss me again," she responds ruefully. "So yes, I'm quite sure."

He registers her words and the guilt sinks in. She waited for him? Didn’t she wait a hundred years for him already? And now he’s unintentionally withholding something from her that makes her happy? He just wanted to respect her wishes and not overstep any bounds!

He wants to hold her tight, but she continues speaking, likely finding something in his expression to comment on. “You are not required to do so if it is against your wishes, or if it makes you uncomfortable. Or if you don’t see me in that way. I have a tendency to jump to conclusions.”

Comfortable? Jumping to conclusions? Of course she”jumped to them”, he literally confessed his feelings to her! He’s been going insane trying to hide his affections. It was easier a century ago, but definitely not now. Definitely not when she’s in his arms and she wants him to kiss her. He definitely owes her an explanation. He does his best to do so. Of course, it doesn’t come out the way he intends.

“I was waiting for you.”

Zelda’s absolutely astounded. She makes a choking noise and grips into his shirt near his shoulders. “I’ve been waiting for you!” she asserts, giving him a little shake as she speaks. “I assumed that you were not partial to physical affection or still becoming used to it.”

The sheer ridiculousness of all of this comes to a head. They were waiting for the exact same reasons, for each other's comfort. It’s kind and considerate on her end, really, but…

“I like physical affection,” he finds himself saying, “if it’s from you.”

Zelda’s eyes light up, and it’s his turn to feel relieved. “Thank the goddesses,” she says. “It has been a challenge to get by without your affections,” she adds honestly.

Now what does that mean? “Get by?” he says, intrigued, and pulls her the tiniest bit closer.

She's incredibly and adorably flustered at his question and their increased closeness. "Well, I suppose I—"

"Suppose what?" he goads, pulling her in just a bit more, feeling bold enough to tease her.

“I…was not the most expedient in preparing the table for dinner last night.”

That doesn’t matter. The table was set, wasn’t it? Who cares about speed? He raises an eyebrow at her, and her blush deepens.

"I only wanted to smell your cloak one last time before I hung it up!" she admits.

He feels his eyes widen, remembering as she fidgeted at the table just before dinner. He doesn't have time to ask for an explanation. She gives one readily.

"I didn't know the next time I'd be able to wear your cloak." She hurriedly continues: "And it smells like you. You smell absolutely wonderful. So I did, but I thought you caught me in the act! Goddesses this is embarrassing—"

Her ink stained hands cover her face for a moment as she curls into his sheets, avoiding his eyes.

She’s never been like this before. Normally, she states things plainly, kindly, and somewhat literally, refusing to conflate her ideas with subtle emotional cues that are hard for him to catch and vice versa. They both take things literally. So, he takes this literally. She is literally so cute. And intelligent. And beautiful and wonderful and a whole bunch of other adjectives.

"What? That's adorable!" He can actually feel the heat casting from her. The thought of her sneaking away just to smell his cloak doesn't help his constant need to kiss her. She's still panicking. He can't help but laugh. "Zelda, seriously, it's fine."

"But don't you think it's odd?" she says, shamefaced, clouded by his bedding.

Why is she mortified by this? "No way. It makes me really happy." He gently takes her wrists into his hands. She looks at them, then back up at his face as he continues. "Wear it whenever you want, I don't mind."

"Alright." Her response is meek but accepting.

He feels an urge to squeeze her for some reason. "I don't mean to say this to invalidate your feelings, but you're adorable when you're flustered."

She makes an indignant sound, her face still somewhat flushed. "What if I do feel invalidated?" she says playfully. "What if I desire retribution?"

"I'd be terrified."

"Terrified?"

"Well yeah," he runs his thumbs across her knuckles. "You could easily grind my bones to dust."

"I could not!"

He laughs and pulls her even closer. “You really could, though,” he insists softly. She’s the only one who could ever curb-stomp the embodiment of evil. If her powers worked against him, she could handily beat him, without a doubt.

He’s been a chatterbox this morning. Holding her wrists should shut him up for a bit. She half-heartedly wrestles away from him, just enough to look at him.

“And you could easily kiss me,” she counters, bringing the conversation back on track.

His heart sprints in his chest as he stares at her, the weight of her request pinning him to the floor. He can't move. Why can't he move? He's never been unable to move, not even when he was terrified for their collective safety on the battlefield.

He just stares at her, dumbfounded.

No way. No way. Seriously? He has permission? She wants this? He wasn’t overstepping? AaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAA. Of course, he knows his face is completely blank. He wishes it weren't so she could see that he's trying to move—

But then she grins. "Come here. Please?"

Well, she asked nicely. She laughed, too. It must be alright then. He gets a grip on his senses, and wraps his arms around her, pulling her even closer to him. He sees the anticipation on her face.

Like all the best things in life, he will savor this. He's here with her, safe, and the world isn't burnt to ashes. She wants this. She wants him.

He's imagined countless scenarios where this happens, where he finally gets to kiss her again. This is far more than ideal. There are so many ways to go about this, though, but it's all what he desires.

"This is—" he stammers,"—Is there any way you want me to?" he asks.

"Hm…" she supposes. "Will you kiss me how you've been wanting to kiss me?"

Oh boy, would he! He's surprised how level his voice is. "Gladly."

She’s a work of art. She’s quite literally a goddess in the flesh. But beyond that, she's just Zelda, a normal person, who's just letting him kiss her.

He tucks a loose piece of hair behind her ear. Wow, it's so soft. How does she make it like that? No matter. Savor this.

Now that he's here and he has permission, it's still hard to allow himself to do the things he's been wanting. To do the things she directly asks of him. He takes a deep breath.

His thumb trails across her cheek. She leans into his touch along with a quiet hum of content. Heat radiates into his palm, centered from the corner of her jaw. So she is blushing. Her eyes flutter closed as he places his other hand on her cheek. She's so close.

Goddesses, does he want to kiss her. All he has to do is lean in.

He finally does.

He's slow, kissing her like he's wanted to for months: gently, languidly, reverently, learning the feeling of her. He's never loved anyone like he loves her. He wants to show that. She makes a relieved sound, and he feels the tension throughout her ease a fraction.

They break apart for a moment. She's speechless, dazed, and the most beautiful person in the world. Their foreheads rest against each other as he continues to trail his thumbs across her cheeks. Her breath graces his skin. Zelda.

Slow, but deeper. He tries to show her how he feels, his yearning for her, all those secret emotions he’s hidden away until now. He angles her head, and he feels her sigh into him. Her cheeks are ever warmer. The pressure and softness of her lips against his own, that electrifying feeling tingling in his chest—especially since she's completely in his arms in his futon—is amazing.

He doesn’t want to stop, but he does anyway, just to see her. Just to ask her a question.

He looks at her shyly, adjusting her in his arms so her face is level with his own. It's easy since she's taller than him. "Was that…?" he trails off, unsure.

She just makes a quiet, needy noise, and pulls him in for more.

…Well then.

"Weren't you going to the lab today?" he finds himself whispering dizzily near her neck a few moments later. She shivers in response.

"There's always tomorrow," she states plainly. He can't help it, he laughs. But then he's absolutely touched.

Ancient technology and helping others is her passion. She's willing to put off her work for an entire day?

"Are you sure?" he asks quietly, with a smile on his face.

"I could do this all day," she says earnestly. Perfect, that makes two of them.

She glances over him. “Your hair—” she grins, running her fingernails through his fringe. A shiver runs down his spine at her touch. Her hair is askew, and her tunic is wrinkled from sleep. Basically, she's absolutely gorgeous. He's holding a brilliant, yet completely normal person who could turn him into ash. He loves that about her. He eyes her blush, wondering what it would feel like against his hands, or more intriguingly…

He moves to the corner of her jaw, finally being able to feel her flush for himself.

"Link, that tickles!"

He smiles against her skin, kissing her again. He can feel her laughing in his arms. Carefree, he places his lips on her neck, right beneath her ear.

She gasps and makes a faint, incredible sound he's never heard before.

He's very relaxed at this point and exceptionally intrigued at her response. It'd be nice to hear that again. He kisses her there once more, and she quiets, her hands gripping to his head a tad.

"Good?" he whispers against her throat.

"Wonderful," she breathes. “Consider my retribution waived. Unless…"

He looks at her. She's planning something, isn't she?

"Unless you're a glutton for punishment," she speculates.

He beams at her. "I am a glutton."

He cuts off her resulting laugh with a kiss.

And with that, any productivity they planned for the afternoon practically flies out the window. They spend the rest of the day making up for lost time. And if there’s not enough time today?

Well, there’s always tomorrow.

[shadowphoenixrider]

The Rescue Gambit (3/5) Rescue the Cajun

(Previous: Break In)

After a quick check of the hallway, Shadow and Drifting quickly scurried to the door Ebak had indicated, pulling it open and quickly slipping inside. The stairway looked fairly normal for an administration building, until they took the stairs down, and it soon gave way to bare concrete and large industrial lights strung from wires.

"I don't like this." Drifting whispered.

Shadow didn't reply, raising her hand for her friend to stop. Straining her ears, she finally heard it; a quiet, high-pitched whine coming from below.

"He's here." She spoke lowly. "And hurt."

Drifting nodded, and the two women continued their descent, carefully placing their feet down so not to make a noise. They paused by a heavy steel door, peering through the window.

The guard glimpsed on the footage was standing further in, his back to them, staring into the makeshift prison. He cradled a big gun that was the most dangerous they'd seen by far, keeping an eye on the lone prisoner.

"I don't see a key." Murmured Drifting uncertainly.

"It'll be on a chain somewhere on his belt." Shadow chewed her lip. "How you feeling about pickpocketing?"

"I've never stolen anything in my life!" Was the indignant response. "I know being able to vanish might suggest I do that, but I prefer to use it to leave social situations, not commit crimes!"

"Okay, then we're going to have to commit violence instead." Shadow glanced down at the floating pipe wrench her brother had gifted her friend. "Ready?"

Drifting took a steeling breath.

"As much as I'll ever be."

They moved to either side of the door, Shadow taking hold of it and pulling as hard as she could. It was heavy, and she just about resisted the urge to grunt with the effort.

A good thing too, as the guard whirled around as the door swung open, raising his weapon.

"Ey! Who's there!" He demanded, Shadow crouching down behind the door and Drifting flattening herself against the wall. "Paul! That better not be you starting shit again!"

A pause, before a very nasally, tired, yet familiar voice sounded out.

"Jumpin' at shadows, Kenny? Told ya to take a nap."

Shadow's eyes widened, her heart briefly stopping her chest. She briefly rose up to catch what she hoped was Drifting's eyes, nodding vigorously. That's him!

"Shut up!" 'Kenny' retorted, spinning back around to the cells. "It's Kenneth, mutie! Knew we should've gagged you."

"Still could." Was the reply, a ribbon of danger flowing underneath the fatigue. "Why don'tcha come on in?"

"They want you alive, but I could still put a bullet in your head, pansy."

Drifting darted through the doorway at that, and Shadow peeked round the door to watch. Kenneth was pointing his gun in the prisoner's direction, full absorbed in the argument. He was completely oblivious to the pipe wrench floating up near his head with deadly intent.

"Really? Ya gonna start dat? Might as well just call me a f-"

THONK!

The wrench came down hard on the back of the guard's head and he crumpled like a tower of cards, gun clattering to the ground beside him.

"Mais. Dat's a way to solve it." The semi-familiar voice spoke.

Shadow moved around the door, pulling it closed behind her and stepping into the prison.

It had been hastily constructed, nothing more than concrete and steel bars that denoted each prison cell. And in the closest was a very familiar man, the sight of which caused Shadow's heart to skip.

Gambit sat in the middle of the cell, bloodied and bruised, with his white shirt and blue trousers dirtied and torn. One black and red eye was purple and swollen shut, whilst his nose was deviated in a way that was definitely not normal, dried blood trickling out of his nostrils, smeared over his shoulders and face with his attempts to wipe it away.

His hands were completely encased in steel manacles in front of his body, preventing him using or even touching anything with them. And, worst of all, a suppression collar had been fastened around his neck, its active blinking almost mocking. Her heart cringed to see him in such a state, a burning fury kindling deep inside her belly. How dare they...!

Gambit brightened immediately as he caught sight of her, a broad grin splitting his face from ear to ear.

"Shadow!" The Cajun almost fell over himself as he clambered to his feet, staggering over to the bars. "Oh chère, you such a welcome sight! You came to rescue Gambit?"

"Of course." Shadow jumped over Kenneth's body, moving over to the cell. She pushed her hand through the bars, gently cupping Gambit's cheek. "I couldn't leave you behind."

He leant into her touch, his single open eye filled with such adoration it almost hurt. A sad smile replaced his grin.

"Sorry I couldn't get back to ya, petite." He murmured. "Was almost away, but got jumped at de last moment."

"I figured something like that had happened." Replied Shadow, retracting her hand and turning to the collection of clothes that was currently rummaging through Kenneth's pockets. "So I went to get some friends to help rescue you. This here is Drifting. Drifting, this is Gambit."

The mutant's invisibility flickered off for a moment out of politeness, and she uttered a soft 'hi'. Gambit's reaction was to make a short whistling sound through his teeth.

"Mais, chère, if Gambit knew ya kept company as beautiful as yaself, he'd've asked to be introduced a lot sooner!" He commented, grinning.

Drifting gave the Cajun a flat, bored look, her power immediately flicking back on.

"Hey now, no need to be like dat!" He cried.

"Whilst I'm glad you seem to be no less dour from the experience, can you please not rizz my friends up." Shadow sighed, folding her arms. "Especially the one holding the keys to your freedom."

"Don't mean anythin' by it, mon amie." Gambit smiled weakly, looking over to where Drifting was, his manacles jingling as he tried to gesture with his sealed hands.

"Well, I got the keys, but slight problem." Drifting held the chain up, to which was clipped about six very similar silver keys, only distinguished by their different teeth patterns.

"It's de second from de left." Gambit spoke. "De one dat looks like it has a step tower in de middle."

Although she remained invisible, Shadow could tell Drifting was staring at him.

"How'd you know that?"

Gambit shrugged.

"Previous guard kept touchin' it when I were talkin' to him. Almost got him in here when dey got wise an' changed up to dat couyon." He nodded to Kenneth. "Not as nice."

"Yeah, considering the slurs he was throwing at you." Shadow frowned, watching Drifting unlock the cell door.

"Ah, Gambit been called much worse." He shrugged again. "Can't believe he went for 'pansy' after 'mutie', who he think he foolin'?" He bowed his head graciously as the door unlocked, Drifting pulling it open. "Merci, belle."

Shadow swept in, ducking under Gambit's arms to hug him tightly, pressing her face into his chest to feel his warmth, his scent. It came very suddenly, an overwhelming feeling that crushed the breath from her lungs; Remy was here, and he was alive. He couldn't hug her back, but the way he pressed her close, he felt exactly the same notion occur to him.

So caught up in their embrace, Shadow had completely forgotten their predicament until someone cleared their throat, startling them. They tried to pull away, forgetting that Gambit's hands still were sealed together in front of him - slamming Shadow right back into Gambit's chest. This caused the taller mutant to tumble backwards with a shout, only stopped from hitting the ground by a strong pair of hands.

"So I'm guessing this is Gambit?" Ebak said dryly, arching an eyebrow.

"Dat be de name, oui." Gambit replied, looking up at him with a wide grin. "An' who be dis handsome fella Gambit have de pleasure of talkin' to?"

"That's my brother." Shadow replied, wriggling out of Gambit's arms. Ebak gave Gambit a flat, disapproving stare, and dropped him onto the floor with an 'oof'!

"Tough crowd." Gambit grunted, pulling himself upright. He frowned slightly, his good eye glancing between the two.

"Adopted." Shadow and Ebak said in unison, the former coming to crouch at Gambit's side whilst the latter stood over him, watching.

"Let's get this off you." Said Shadow, leaning over and deactivating the collar. It sprang open with a beep, and Gambit breathed a sigh of relief, a ripple of pink energy flowing over his iris.

"Merci, chère. Startin' to get a headache." He smiled ruefully. "Bad enough dey leave me like dis without dat thing makin' everything worse." The manacles around his hands began to glow pink, humming loudly. Gambit turned his body as they flared a bright white, sheltering them from the shrapnel of metal as they ruptured with a loud screech. "Ah, much better."

He flexed his now free if bruised and bloody hands, stretching and rolling his shoulders.

"You didn't tell me he makes explosions!" Drifting exclaimed from her watch on the doorway.

"It's technically a bit more than that, but yes." Shadow replied, grinning weakly. "Didn't know if it'd come up, sooo..."

"Alright, so we found him, what's next? Getting out?" Ebak asked, returning to business.

"Well first, lemme patch him up. If things go sour, it'll be good to have someone who can actually fight beyond Ber." She sat next to the Cajun. "Then we'll collect up him and Myst and get outta Dodge."

"If you don' mind chère, dey stripped Gambit of everythin' he had - jacket, cards, staff an' a sample of dat formula. Like to 'least get de staff back 'fore Beast starts thinkin' to bill me for losin' 'em."

Ebak rubbed his chin.

"I did see a lockbox back in the security office. Let me go check." He vanished in a blink, Gambit craning his head around.

"How does he do dat?"

"Quantum teleportation." Shadow explained. "Ebak can teleport almost anywhere he desires. The only caveat is that he cannot be observed doing it. So he's 'held' in place if you look at him, and he can't appear in any place being looked at, by eye or by security camera."

"Huh." Gambit's eye flicked back and forth, searching his memories. "So he have de power of jumpscares, then?"

"That's one way to put it." Ebak said, now right behind him again.

"Merde!" Gambit cursed. "You gonna do dat every time?!"

"Yes." Ebak smirked. "Also, a thank you might be nice," he dropped a bundle of items into Gambit's lap - the telescoping bo staff, two decks of playing cards (one significantly slimmer than the other) and a beige scarf. "I guessed that was yours too?"

"Yeah, it is," Gambit nodded, glancing back to give Ebak a genuine smile. "Thanks."

"Alright gents, enough stalling." Shadow spoke, her tone all business. "Ebak, I need to borrow you. Sit." She pointed to the space next to her.

"Oh? How so?" He asked, doing as he was told and ignoring the way Gambit's eye followed him warily.

"Well, as you can see, Gambit's nose is broken." Shadow gestured to the acute deviation in main trunk (the dorsum nasi, her mind supplied). "I can fix it, but it does mean I need someone to reduce it first." She looked between the two men. "As in I need to pull it back into position before I can heal it in place."

The two men glanced at each other. Ebak took a breath, rubbing his hands on his thighs.

"O-Oh, okay. I...think I can do that." Said Ebak haltingly.

"It's okay - if you let me briefly connect with your hands, I will do the reduction. All you'll need to do is hold them in place whilst I seal the cartilage back together." Shadow explained, looking to Gambit. "It is going to hurt. A lot. I can suppress the pain as soon as I move from Ebak's hands into your body, but until then it's going suck, and I need you to hold your head as still as possible and preferably not explode anything. Can you do that for me?"

The Cajun smiled.

"Can certainly try, mon amie."

"Why doesn't he stuff that scarf in his mouth?" Came Drifting's comment from outside the cell. "As something to bite down on."

"That's not a bad idea." Shadow nodded. "Gambit?"

"Oui," he said, balling a section of the fabric up. "Shall Gambit...?"

"Yes. We've dawdled enough and this'll take time." Gambit nodded, stuffing the scarf between his teeth. A smirk pulled at Ebak's lips, but he said nothing, holding his hands out for Shadow to take. She took his right hand, splaying hers across the back of his, whilst she shifted closer to Gambit, resting her other hand on his cheek. He leant slightly into the touch.

"Okay El, relax for me." Shadow murmured, light rippling into her hands as she reached out to the cells beneath, gently delving under them into the muscle fibres beneath. Ebak's fingers twitched as she tested them. "That's good. Okay. Try to relax for me, Gambit. I'm going to be as quick as I can, but it's going to suck regardless."

He offered a reassuring hum in response, before closing his eye. Shadow couldn't blame him - she wouldn't have wanted to see the incoming pain either.

She and Ebak reached as a pair to Gambit's nose, pausing for a nerve-steeling second before grasping it tightly. Gambit winced immediately, biting down, and Shadow felt Ebak's muscles spasm against her control as his instincts tried to pull away. Her power flared to silence them, stretching just a little further into the cells beneath Ebak's large fingers. The 'voices' were muffled, coming through two layers, but a faint visualisation of the original cartilage structure came to mind. Following this 'blueprint' and gritting her teeth, Shadow wrenched the broken spur back into position, wincing as Gambit bit down harder, trying to muffle his cry of pain.

"Okay, hold still until I give you a signal to release." She commanded, pulling her awareness back into herself. "Do not move."

"I'm staying here." Ebak replied.

With nary a moment to spare, Shadow dove into Gambit's body; a process she was so used to it was almost like passing through a door. She immediately silenced the cacophony of pain that greeted her, moving straight to his nose and commanding the tissue to regenerate as fast as it could, pouring her power into it to speed what was a very slow process into something that took seconds.

She felt Gambit relax almost as soon as she finished, the rush of air from his mouth below. It took her a couple of seconds to collect herself after that display - her powers gently siphoning off Gambit's eternal kinetic hum to restore themselves. As soon as she felt ready, she flowed down to Gambit's hand, pulling gently at the fibres to announce her presence before she lifted his hand, curling his thumb and index finger into a circle and raising his other fingers.

Shadow held it for a couple of seconds, until Ebak released the pressure on Gambit's nose, the Cajun rumbling something she couldn't hear.

Content, she moved up to the second place that definitely needed her attention - Gambit's swollen eye. A small hairline fracture had cracked his orbital rim, the resulting damage filling his eyelids with enough fluid to essentially seal them shut. Thankfully the eye beneath was fine, moving freely - she squashed her natural curiosity at finding out how his might differ to hers; that was for another, more peaceful time.

Shadow pushed her power forward, calling to the osteoblasts in the bone and watching them knit it back together as neatly as it had once been. Moving to the softer tissues, she urged the lymph ducts to swell, draining the fluid out and away into the broader circulation. Almost immediately Gambit's eye opened as soon as it could move, blinking hard to readjust.

His nerves called her from his other, more minor injuries, but someone grabbed her wrist, digging in just enough to start tugging her awareness back into her body. Shadow acquiesced, letting herself be yanked back in. She blinked hard, greeted by Gambit gently pulling her back into the darkness of the cell.

"Sorry to disturb ya, chère, but we gotta problem."

(Previous: Break In)/(Next: Escape)