#new form of depression unlocked

[saucerfulofsins]

Me: well I don't feel miserable all the time so im not dressed, i just feel empty and incapable of enjoyment and hopeless about the future

My therapist: well that is called anhedonia and is one of the major markers of clinical depression

[justice4gyeongsu]

━━━ 'CHAPTER FOURTEEN' [WHEN DAWN BREAKS]

SYNOPSIS ➢ an old friend becomes a new person of interest, not everyone is happy about it.

PAIRING ➢ lee suhyeok x male!reader

AU ➢ enemies-to-lovers au!

CONTENT WARNING ➢ this chapter contains; flashbacks, violence, alot of angst, signs of depression, jealousy, signs of ptsd, intimate scenes, fluff sprinkles, anxiety mentions, barely legal drinking, flirting, death, reoccuring ptsd, mentions of gore, blood, cannibalism [let me know if i missed any!]

NEXT I PREVIOUS

after trudging through the desolate streets for what feels like an eternity, the group finally reaches a critical juncture. you're walking behind kyungho, your senses on high alert as you tiptoe down the empty street. everyone's weapons are at the ready, prepared for a potential ambush by a horde of zombies. kyungho suddenly stops and leans against the building, peeking around the corner. the rest of the group follows suit, pressing themselves against the wall as they wait for kyungho's signal to proceed.

kyungho drapes his arm over your shoulder, gently guiding you to take a look at what's ahead. you carefully peer around the corner, your katana clutched tightly in your hand. kyungho's face is inches from yours, his warm breath on your skin as he points down the street. "there's two of them down the street," he whispers, "but the store is right there." he nods toward the back of a two-story building situated in the middle of the street. your heart skips a beat as you take in the sight, your stomach growling with anticipation at the prospect of finding food and shelter.

kyungho begins to outline his plan, "if i head over to unlock the door, you have to protect my—" but he's cut off by suhyeok's sudden bold move. suhyeok sprints down the street, bat in hand, and strikes the ground once, as if to announce his presence. then, with swift and deadly precision, he takes down the two zombies, smashing their faces with his bat as they crumple to the ground.

the group watches in awe, peeking around the corner to take in the scene. kyungho's eyes widen in surprise, and he chuckles, "or he can just do that." the tension is broken, and the group quickly scatters, moving towards the store. wujin, cheongsan, and suhyeok form a rear guard, watching the group's backs with their baseball bats at the ready, ensuring no other zombies sneak up on them. meanwhile, kyungho swiftly retrieves the keys from his bag and unlocks the door. he gently pushes you inside by the waist, ushering you into the safety of the store.

as you step inside, you're enveloped in darkness, the only light coming from candles scattered around the store and the faint slivers of sunlight peeking through the newspaper-covered windows. the air is stale, but the store seems quiet, a haven from the dangers outside.

as the last person steps inside, kyungho secures the door by wrapping a sturdy chain around the handle and locking it with a massive lock. the sound of the lock clicking into place is music to everyone's ears, and they let out a collective sigh of relief. as they look around, their eyes widen in shock and amazement. the store is a treasure trove of food and drinks, with fully stocked aisles and corners filled with cold beverages. "dig in, guys," kyungho says with a smile, patting your back softly as he walks by.

the group erupts into a frenzy of activity, scrambling to grab as much food and drink as they can. you sprint to the drink section and find the largest water bottle you can, twisting off the cap and chugging the water greedily. some of it spills down your neck, but you don't care – the refreshing taste is like heaven.

daesu's voice rings out across the store, "where's the ramyun?!" he shouts, racing through the aisles until he spots an entire section dedicated to his beloved noodles. he drops to his knees, overcome with emotion, and begins to sob. "thank you, god," he whispers, his hands clasped together in gratitude.

meanwhile, namra stands off to the side, observing the chaos with a detached air. her stomach growls with hunger, but she's not craving the usual food that would normally satisfy her. she's developed a strange, unsettling appetite, one that she can't quite explain. as she scans the surrounding area, she strains her ears to listen for any signs of movement or potential threats outside. but the only sounds she can hear are the contented noises of her companions: the smacking of lips, the gulping of drinks, and the groans of pleasure as they devour their food.

hroryeong's voice breaks the spell, "i could actually cry," she says, her eyes welling up with tears as she savors a full chocolate bar. sure enough, she begins to sob, overcome with emotion. wujin offers her a sympathetic pat on the back before chugging a soda bottle, some of the fizzy drink spilling onto the floor as he does so.

kyungho double-checks the security of the front doors now, tugging on the handles and jiggling them to ensure they're securely locked in place. he tests the doors, pulling and pushing to confirm that they don't budge, his actions methodical and deliberate as he makes certain that the group's temporary sanctuary is safe and secure.

you're winded by the time you've made it halfway through the bottle, and you lean against the cold beverage door to catch your breath. as you pause, your mind begins to wander to all the peers you've lost, and the fact that they'll never get to experience this moment of relief with you. the thought brings a pang of sadness, and you feel a lump form in your throat.

you make a silent vow to yourself to consume everything in their honor, a way of celebrating their memory and the struggles you've overcome. as you turn around, you're met with namra's gentle gaze, and she offers you a twinkie. you look up at her, and she hands you the snack, her slender fingers brushing against yours.

"thanks," you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. namra's response is a small, enigmatic smile – a smile that you'll come to recognize as her signature expression.

as you gaze at namra, her eyes fixed on the ground, you pose a question that seems to have been avoided by everyone around you. "you okay?" the words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken concerns. namra's silence is palpable, but instead of responding, she reaches out and grasps your hand, her fingers intertwining with yours.

without a word, she leads you to the front of the store, where newspaper-covered windows block our view of the outside world. the air is thick with tension as she stops in front of the makeshift barrier. "if you need me to scout out supplies, i can do it without putting anyone at risk of getting caught," she says, her voice low and determined. you sense a deep-seated resolve in her words, a willingness to take on the challenges that lie ahead. "i'll come with you," you offer, but namra's expression turns resolute as she shakes her head. "too much of a risk," she whispers, her eyes locked onto yours, conveying a depth of understanding that goes unspoken.

as you begin to inquire about namra's hunger, the creaking of a door opening captures your attention, and you turn to see a doorway on the opposite side of the store. a steep staircase leads up to the second floor, and kyungho gestures toward it with a gracious smile. "there are beds upstairs, you're all welcome to rest there," he says, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "i'll be keeping watch down here, behind the register."

you return his smile, feeling a sense of gratitude toward this stranger who has taken you in. "thank you, that's sweet of you," you say, as you gently tug on namra's hand, encouraging her to follow you upstairs. the prospect of rest and a safe haven is a welcome respite, and you can sense namra's reluctance giving way to exhaustion as she allows you to lead her toward the staircase.

as you begin to ascend the stairs, the creaking of the wooden steps beneath your feet echoes through the quiet space. namra follows closely behind, her eyes fixed on the stairs ahead. you can sense her weariness, her body language screaming for rest. the upstairs area is dimly lit, with only a few faint rays of light peeking through the grimy windows. you see a few beds scattered about, each one neatly made with a thin blanket. the air is stale, but it's quiet and peaceful, a welcome respite from the chaos outside.

kyungho calls out from downstairs, "make yourselves at home." he points to a small area that you realized was a bathroom. "if you guys need to freshen up, there a shower."

"you're saying there's a shower?" you ask, your eyes widening in astonishment. the mere mention of it is almost too good to be true. you can't recall the last time you had the luxury of a shower, and the thought of being clean again is almost overwhelming. the group's collective stench had become a norm, something you'd all grown accustomed to.

kyungho nods, a charming smile spreading across his face as he leans against the doorway, his arms crossed. he seems to be savoring your reaction, and you can't help but laugh, a delirious, disbelieving sound. kyungho joins in, his laughter warm and genuine. "man, you guys have probably been through a lot," he says, shaking his head in sympathy. namra, who had been watching the exchange, turns to you and whispers that she'll go share the good news with the others.

as namra heads off to spread the news, you can't help but feel a sense of excitement and trepidation. a shower sounds like a luxury, but it's also a reminder of how long it's been since you've had access to basic amenities. you glance over at kyungho, who's still smiling at you, and feel a sense of gratitude toward this stranger who's offering you a glimmer of hope. "thank you," you say, your voice sincere. "this means a lot to us." kyungho's smile widens, and he nods, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "you're welcome," he says. "i'm just glad i can help. now, go enjoy that shower. you've earned it."

"that'd be nice, but i think i'll let the girls go first," you say, as you wander into one of the rooms, taking stock of the space. you notice that there are more than enough mattresses for everyone, and a sense of relief washes over you. kyungho observes your actions, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

"what a gentleman," he teases, his voice laced with a playful tone, as he leans against the doorway, watching you with a warm smile.

his words bring a flush to your cheeks, but you can't help but smile, feeling a sense of gratitude toward this kind stranger who's taking you in. you shrug off the compliment, feeling a slight blush rise to your cheeks. "its common sense," you say, attempting to downplay kyungho's praise. but he just chuckles and nods, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "well, whatever your motivations are, it's appreciated," he says, pushing off from the doorway and heading back toward the stairs. "i'll go get some more blankets, get comfortable." he disappears down the stairs, leaving you to continue exploring the makeshift shelter.

as kyungho descends the stairs, you take a moment to look around the room again, this time noticing the small details that make it feel more like a home. there's a small bookshelf in the corner, filled with worn paperbacks and dog-eared pages. a faded rug covers the floor, adding a touch of warmth to the space.

you hear the sound of footsteps coming from the stairs, and as the group makes their way upstairs, their faces light up with wonder and relief. the sight of a functional bathroom and comfortable sleeping quarters is almost too good to be true. wujin, ever the enthusiastic one, can't contain his excitement. "i call the first shower!" he shouts, already making a beeline for the bathroom. but before he can take another step, hari reaches out and grabs his ear, pulling him back with a playful scold. "women go first, idiot," mijin chimes in, her voice dripping with amusement and a hint of teasing. wujin rubs his ear, looking sheepish, but can't help grinning at the good-natured ribbing.

you can't help but laugh at the lighthearted exchange between wujin and the others. meanwhile, cheongsan and suhyeok wander into the adjacent room, their eyes scanning the space filled with beds. suhyeok lets out a deep sigh of relief, his shoulders sagging as he takes in the cozy atmosphere. "this is gonna be so nice," he breathes, his voice filled with gratitude.

as the group begins to settle in, they all remove their shoes and leave them outside in the hallway, a habitual gesture that speaks to their growing sense of comfort and security. the tension and wariness that had been palpable just hours before seem to be melting away, replaced by a sense of camaraderie and shared relief.

onjo takes charge, assigning the rooms with a practical sense of fairness. "the girls will take this room, and the boys can take that one," she declares, pointing to the room closest to the bathroom. the others nod in agreement, and the group begins to settle into their respective spaces.

just then, the sound of footsteps echoes up the stairs once more. kyungho appears, his arms laden with a pile of knitted blankets. "hey, i found a few more blankets," he announces, offering them up to the group. "anyone who tends to get cold can grab another one."

you consider reaching for an extra blanket, but then think better of it, realizing that some of the girls might need it more than you. and indeed, they quickly claim most of the blankets, leaving only two remaining in kyungho's hands. cheongsan notices your ripped shirt and gestures for you to take one of the remaining blankets. "you should get one, y/n," he suggests, his expression concerned. you nod, feeling a bit self-conscious about your torn clothing. you walk over to kyungho, giving him a smile as you take one of the blue blankets from his outstretched hand.

daesu's eyes light up with a warm smile as he whispers to himself, "kyungho's so nice." wujin catches the comment and nods in agreement, a matching smile spreading across his face. however, suhyeok's expression takes a different turn. his eyes narrow, and his face clouds with suspicion as he notices kyungho's gaze lingering on you. his eyes flicker with unease, and he seems to be sizing up the situation.

kyungho, oblivious to suhyeok's concerns, continues to offer his hospitality. "whoever is showering first can go ahead," he says, his eyes scanning the group. "i can hand-wash your clothing and leave it out to dry. in the meantime, there are clothes in the drawers in your rooms. i'm sure they belonged to the people who owned this place before, but they would've wanted you all to wear them." the group exchanges warm smiles and nods, grateful for kyungho's kindness. hroryeong's face lights up with a shy smile as she thanks kyungho again for saving them. kyungho responds with a thumbs-up and a reassuring smile. "no worries, really. you guys are all doing me a favor by not letting me be lonely," he says, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

the boys chuckle at kyungho's comment, but suhyeok remains stoic, his expression unreadable. the group's laughter and chatter fill the air as they begin to settle in, the warmth and comfort of their new surroundings slowly seeping in. kyungho watches them with a gentle smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he takes in the scene.

as the girls start to make their discussion on the bathroom, eager to take advantage of the shower, kyungho turns to you and asks, "do you need anything?" his voice is low and considerate, and you feel a sense of gratitude toward him.

meanwhile, suhyeok's eyes never leave kyungho's face, his expression a mask of suspicion and wariness. it's clear that he’s still not convinced of kyungho's intentions. "no, it's okay, i'm good," you say, waving your hand dismissively. "i'm just ready to get out of these clothes." you gesture to your dirty, torn clothing, feeling a sense of self-consciousness about your appearance.

kyungho's eyes follow your gesture, and he takes a step closer to you. he reaches out and gently takes hold of the torn part of your shirt, his index and middle fingers loosely grasping the fabric. "yeah, looks like you've been through a lot," he says, his voice filled with empathy. as he speaks, kyungho tilts his head to get a better look at the damage. his eyes scan the torn fabric, and then drift to the scratches on your skin, visible through the tears.

suhyeok's interruption grabbed both of your attention. "is the backdoor downstairs the only exit?" he asks, his eyes locked intently on kyungho. you turn to look at suhyeok, but only for a brief moment, before your gaze drifts back to kyungho. there's something about kyungho's calm and gentle demeanor that puts you at ease, and you find yourself drawn to him.

kyungho's expression changes, a flicker of surprise crossing his face, before he quickly composes himself. he points to the rooms, his gesture expansive. "besides the windows that slide open, yeah," he explains. "you're more than welcome to go out through the front door, but if any of them see you out there, you'd bring them right to the rest of us." kyungho's voice is laced with concern, and it's clear that he's thinking about their safety. suhyeok's question has brought a sense of unease to the group, and you can't help but wonder what's behind suhyeok's inquiry.

kyungho's question hangs in the air, and everyone's eyes turn to suhyeok, waiting for his response. "were you thinking of leaving?" kyungho asks, his tone neutral, but his eyes searching for answers.

suhyeok's expression is inscrutable, his arms crossing over his chest as he responds with a curt, "just curious." the words are dismissive, but the tension in his body language suggests that there's more to it. without another word, suhyeok turns and walks into the boys' room, leaving the rest of the group to wonder about his intentions. a small flag pops up in your mind, warning you that there's more to suhyeok's question than meets the eye. you're not sure what's driving his curiosity, but you have a feeling that it's not just idle wondering.

hroryeong's voice rings out, announcing that she's taking the first shower. you take the opportunity to head into the boys' room, where you see that most of the guys have already staked their claims on the beds by placing their weapons beside them.

you make your way to the bed that's deepest in the room and place your katana down beside it, claiming it as your own. as you look around, you notice daesu standing by the sliding windows, his eyes gazing out at something in the distance. his expression is melancholic, and you can sense a deep sadness emanating from him.

just then, wujin's voice cuts through the air, grabbing everyone's attention. "who wants to take the first shower after the girls finish?" he asks, his eyes scanning the room. you look up at wujin and shrug, "cheongsan should. he did a lot for us," you say, nodding in cheongsan's direction. suhyeok chimes in, his voice a little softer than usual, "yeah, cheongsan, you go first."

daesu lets out a deep sigh, his arms folding over his head as he complains, "man, it was really warm outside." his voice is laced with a whiny tone, and wujin can't help but grimace in response.

wujin's eyes dart to daesu, and he covers his nose, his voice muffled as he says, "maybe daesu should go first..." the suggestion is met with a chorus of agreements from the other boys, including you, as the pungent aroma wafting from daesu's armpits begins to fill the room. daesu's expression turns defensive, his arms slowly lowering as he accuses wujin, "stop lying! you can't even smell anything." wujin's face scrunches up in indignation, and he begins to argue, "why would i lie?" the two boys start to bicker back and forth, their voices rising in a comedic display of denial and accusation.

you step out of the shower, feeling refreshed and rejuvenated. the warm water has washed away the dirt and grime of the day, leaving you feeling clean and revitalized. your damp hair clings to your face, and you try to push it back, away from your forehead. you're surprised to notice that your hair seems longer when it's wet, and you make a mental note to get it cut soon.

you slide open the wooden door to the boys' bedroom, expecting to see the others lounging around. but to your surprise, the room is empty. you assume that everyone must be downstairs, and you're left alone in the quiet, peaceful space.

you look down at your outfit, feeling the soft, lightweight fabric of the plain dark blue pajama shirt and pants. it's a simple but comfortable ensemble, and you appreciate the feeling of the gentle cotton against your skin. you take a deep breath, feeling relaxed and at ease, and begin to make your way downstairs to join the others.

you make your way down the stairs, and your eyes scan the room, taking in the scene. some of the girls are gathered around kyungho, their faces aglow with excitement as they listen to him talk about his studies. they're practically swooning over his every word, and you can't help but chuckle at the sight.

your gaze drifts to the corner of the room, where hari and mijin are sitting together, chatting quietly. they're both smiling, and their body language suggests that they're having a relaxed and enjoyable conversation. you continue to scan the room, searching for wujin. you spot him and cheongsan standing in front of a shelf, engaged in a heated debate. they're arguing over which brand of garlic chips is superior, and their voices are rising in excitement.

you call out to wujin, letting him know that it's his turn to take a shower. his face lights up, and he instantly tosses the bags of chips to cheongsan. "i'll be right back!" he exclaims, before turning and making a beeline for the stairs. wujin's enthusiasm is palpable, and he's in such a hurry that he trips twice on the stairs before he reaches the bathroom. you can't help but laugh at his antics, and you shake your head in amusement.

as wujin disappears, you can't help but smile at his energetic behavior. you turn your attention back to the rest of the group, noticing that kyungho is still regaling the girls with stories of his studies. hari and mijin are still chatting quietly in the corner, looking relaxed and comfortable.

cheongsan, on the other hand, is still standing in front of the shelf, looking triumphant as he holds up the bags of garlic chips. he catches your eye and grins, clearly proud of having won the argument with wujin.

you chuckle to yourself, feeling grateful for the sense of camaraderie and friendship that's developed within the group. despite the challenges and dangers you've faced, you're all managing to find moments of joy and laughter together. as you continue to observe the group, you notice that suhyeok is still sitting off to the side, looking a bit subdued.

you feel a pang of frustration with yourself as you realize that your heart is trying to get the better of you. you're drawn to suhyeok, despite his odd behavior, and you find yourself wanting to check in on him, to make sure he's okay. you curse your heart for its weakness, and force yourself to look away, trying to ignore the concern that's rising up inside you.

just then, cheongsan speaks up, his voice low and understanding. "he's gonna be alright," he says, his eyes following your gaze to suhyeok. "i think he's stressing because this wasn't part of the plan."

cheongsan's words are like a splash of cold water, bringing you back to reality. you realize that suhyeok's behavior is likely due to the unexpected turn of events, and that he's probably just feeling overwhelmed. you nod in understanding, trying to push aside your concern for suhyeok and focus on the bigger picture.

you turn to cheongsan, your eyes filled with hope as you ask, "you think we can reach the mountain?" your voice is laced with a mix of worriesome and trepidation, and you can't help but feel a sense of uncertainty. cheongsan's expression is reassuring, and he nods confidently. "we'll make it, all of us," he says, his voice firm and resolute. "so stop worrying so much about it." he adds, his tone playful as he reaches out to push your shoulder gently.

you nod, trying to muster up a smile, but it's tinged with worry. you can't shake off the feeling of unease, and you're not sure if you'll really be able to make it to the mountain safely. but with cheongsan's reassurance, you try to push aside your doubts and focus on the task at hand.

"have you seen namra?" you ask cheongsan, and he points to the front of the store. you follow his gesture and see namra kneeling beside a small bonsai plant. the plant looks like it was carefully tended to before the apocalypse, and you can't help but wonder who might have been growing it.

you approach namra quietly, but she turns around before you can sneak up on her. "how'd you know i was behind you?" you ask, feeling a little surprised.

namra's response is casual, but it sends a flutter through your chest. "i recognize your steps," she says. "you always step like you're careful something might jump in front of you." her words are simple, but they reveal a level of awareness and attention to detail that makes you feel seen. you kneel down beside her, feeling a little self-conscious about your habits. "i guess it's a bad habit," you say, clearing your throat. you both sit there in silence for a moment, looking at the bonsai plant. the quiet is comfortable, and you feel a sense of ease with namra that you don't always feel with others.

namra's eyes are fixed on your face as you gently rub the leaves of the bonsai tree, oblivious to her gaze. she takes a moment to glance behind her, noticing suhyeok sitting on an upside-down bucket, staring at his knuckles. he's wearing an all-white thin pajama set, and namra can't help but think that he looks softer, more vulnerable, in white.

she turns her attention back to you, her expression careful. "he likes you," she says, her voice low and matter-of-fact. you snap your head towards her, your eyes wide with surprise. "wait, really? you think so?" you ask, your voice filled with excitement.

namra nods, her expression serious. "he cares a lot about you. did you know that?" she asks, her voice soft. you look around, as if checking to make sure no one is listening, before responding.

"well," you say, a smile spreading across your face, "i thought maybe he was into guys, but i wasn't sure." you admit, shrugging. namra's expression changes to one of disbelief and confusion. "you weren't sure?" she asks, her voice incredulous. you nod, matter-of-factly. "yeah, it's kinda hard to tell."

namra's eyes sparkle with curiosity as she asks, "even after he kissed you?" her words are innocent, but they send a shockwave through you. you stop dead in your tracks, turning to her with a confused expression. "what did you just say?" you ask, blinking rapidly as you try to process her words.

namra's face flushes with embarrassment, and she looks away, her voice barely above a whisper. "i saw, i'm sorry, i didn't mean to." she's clearly uncomfortable, and you can tell she didn't mean to spill the beans. your mind is reeling as you try to understand what's going on. "what? kyungho didn't kiss me?" you ask, feeling bewildered. namra's expression changes to one of confusion, and she looks back at you. "kyungho?" she repeats, clearly unsure what you're talking about. you nod, waiting for her to explain what she meant. your heart is racing with anticipation, and you can't help but wonder who she's talking about. it couldnt be..could it?

namra's words hang in the air like a challenge, and your entire world freezes in that moment. "i'm talking about... suhyeok," she finally says, her voice barely above a whisper. you're stunned, unsure of how she could possibly know about the kiss. it was in the middle of the night, and you thought you two were being quiet.

your mind is racing with questions, but before you can even process your thoughts, namra speaks up again. "i won't tell anyone if you don't want me to," she says, her expression reassuring. she can see the shock and confusion written all over your face, and she's trying to put you at ease.

you blink slowly, still trying to wrap your head around the fact that namra knows about the kiss. "how...?" you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper. namra takes a deep breath before explaining, her words spilling out in a gentle rush. "i couldn't sleep that night," she says. "i heard and saw everything that happened."

you let out a sigh and bury your face in your arms, still kneeling on the ground. namra's hand finds its way to the top of yours, and she gives it a gentle squeeze. you feel a sense of comfort from her touch, and her words that follow only add to the feeling.

"i could hear his heart beating," she says softly. "it was steady throughout most of it." you lift your head, confusion etched on your face. "..so?" you ask, seeking clarity on what she's trying to say.

namra's gaze drifts behind her, to where suhyeok is sitting, looking troubled. "which means he wasnt lying," you follow her line of sight, and your gaze softens as you take in the sight of him. suddenly, flashbacks of the two of you walking home together every day flood your mind. the feeling of safety and friendship that you experienced during those walks blossoms in your chest, and you can't help but feel a sense of affection towards suhyeok.

you continue, your voice barely above a whisper. "then you'd also know how he was scared to be seen with me..." you bring your fist to your heart, feeling it racing in your chest. you're not sure what emotion is causing it, but you know you need to calm down. as you speak, you can feel a lump forming in your throat, and your eyes start to well up with tears. you bite back a pout, trying to hold back the emotions that are threatening to overwhelm you. your eye line begins to water, and you look away, trying to compose yourself. the memory of suhyeok's fear of being seen with you is still raw, and it's clear that it's still affecting you deeply.

you take a deep breath, trying to calm down and process your emotions. namra's hand is still on top of yours, and she gives it a gentle squeeze, offering you comfort and support.

"hey, it's okay," she says softly, her voice full of empathy. "he was scared, but that doesn't mean he didn't care about you. people are complicated, and sometimes they do things that hurt us without meaning to." you look up at namra, feeling a sense of gratitude towards her. she's always been a good listener, and her words of wisdom are just what you need to hear right now.

you take another deep breath, feeling your emotions begin to settle. you look over at suhyeok, who's still sitting on the bucket, looking troubled. you can't help but wonder what's going through his mind, and whether he's still scared of being seen with you. namra's words are cryptic, and you look at her with confusion. "i asked him... back at the storage closet," she says, leaving you wondering what she's talking about.

but then she adds, "i asked if he liked you," and your eyes go wide with surprise. you're eager to hear more, and you wait with bated breath for namra to continue.

however, suhyeok's name is called out by daesu, and he reluctantly gets up to head over. namra's gaze follows him, but then she turns back to you. "what did he say?" you ask, staring into her eyes, hoping to find some answers. namra's expression is sympathetic, and she says, "he didn't say anything." you sigh, feeling a pang of disappointment. but then namra adds, "but, he looked at me and i heard his heart beat rise quickly." her words are like a ray of hope, and you can't help but feel a spark of achievement.

you feel a flutter in your chest as you process namra's words. the fact that suhyeok's heart beat rose quickly when she asked him about you suggests that he might have feelings for you after all.

you look over at suhyeok, who's now talking to daesu, and you can't help but wonder what's going through his mind. does he really like you? and if so, why hasn't he said anything?

namra's hand is still on top of yours, and she gives it a gentle squeeze. "don't worry," she says softly. "i'm sure he'll come around eventually." you nod, feeling a sense of gratitude towards namra. she's always been a good friend to you, and her words of encouragement mean a lot. as you continue to talk to namra, you can't help but steal glances at suhyeok, wondering what the future might hold for the two of you.

you pause, collecting your thoughts before speaking. "it's not that," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. namra looks at you curiously, sensing that there's more to your words.

you take a deep breath, hesitating for a moment before admitting the truth. "i'm not sure if i even want him anymore," you say, your voice laced with uncertainty. namra's expression changes, and she looks at you with surprise. she didn't expect you to say that, and you can tell she's wondering what's going through your mind. you look away, feeling a little vulnerable. you're not sure why you're unsure about suhyeok. you care about him deeply, but you're not sure if your feelings for him are romantic. you're confused, and you don't know what to do.

namra's expression softens, and she nods understandingly. "it's okay to be unsure," she says gently. "feelings can be complicated, and it's normal to take time to figure them out."

you nod, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. it's nice to know that namra understands, and that you're not alone in your confusion. "do you think... he'd wait for me to figure things out?" you ask hesitantly, looking over at suhyeok, who's still talking to daesu. namra follows your gaze, and then turns back to you. "i think he might," she says with a small smile.

you can't help but laugh as you wipe your eyes, making sure no tears fall. "when did you become a love doctor?" you ask, amusement dancing in your voice. you scoff and look away, a small smile still playing on your lips. namra's eyes sparkle with mirth as she catches your teasing tone. "did you just scoff at me? ms. namra?" you tease her further, trying to stifle a grin. namra shakes her head, a smile still plastered on her face. she stands up, her movements fluid and effortless. "you're ridiculous," she says, her voice laced with affection. she looks down at you, her eyes shining with warmth. "but i'm always here for you, no matter how ridiculous you get deskmate."

namra offers you her hand, and you take it with a smile, feeling a sense of gratitude and affection towards her. "likewise," you say, your voice sincere.

but then namra's expression changes, and she whispers a name that makes your heart skip a beat. "so... kyungho?" she says, a small smile playing on her lips. your ears turn bright red as you realize that you've unintentionally shared your secret crush. you feel a wave of embarrassment wash over you, and you look away, trying to play it cool. but it's too late, namra's already seen the look on your face, and she knows that you have feelings for kyungho.

you try to brush it off, but namra's knowing gaze makes you feel like you've been caught red-handed. you can't believe you let your secret slip out, and now namra knows that you have a crush on kyungho.

namra's smile grows wider, and she gives your hand a gentle squeeze. "don't worry, your secret is safe with me," she whispers, her voice full of amusement. you look at her, feeling a mix of relief and embarrassment. you're glad that namra is being understanding, but you're still mortified that you let your secret slip out.

"thanks," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. namra nods, still smiling, and you can't help but wonder what she's thinking.

you hear a familiar voice calling out to you, and you turn to see horyeong smiling and waving you over to her. "y/n-ie!" she exclaims, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. you can't help but notice kyungho standing on the other side of the register, his muscular arms and chest on full display in his muscle shirt. hari, mijin, and horyeong are all gazing at him with interest, and you find yourself sneaking a few peeks as well.

mijin smirks at you, "kyungho-nim is gonna pour us some drinks." she says, and you raise an eyebrow in surprise. "really?" you ask, looking around at the others. daesu stands up, enthusiasm written all over his face. "count me in!" he exclaims, raising a finger in the air. hari chimes in, "add two more," with a nonchalant nod in kyungho's direction.

kyungho smiles at hari, "you got it," and begins mixing drinks with a combination of soju and beer. you watch with curiosity, unsure of what to expect. as someone who's recently come of age to drink legally, you've never really had the opportunity to try alcohol before. your father's struggles with alcoholism had always made you wary of drinking, but now you're not so sure.

hroryeong's bright smile is infectious as she asks loudly, "onjo, you want one?" she's clearly excited, and you can't help but notice that she seems happier than usual. you attribute it to the presence of kyungho, who's still busy mixing drinks behind the register. maybe his handsome face has brought out her confident side, especially after she's freshened up from her shower. onjo shakes her head, declining the offer, and cheongsan chimes in, "leave us out." hroryeong nods, unfazed, and continues to chat with the others, still beaming with enthusiasm. the atmosphere is lively, and you can't help but feel a little left out, wondering if you should join in on the fun and try one of kyungho's mysterious drinks.

kyungho's smile is still plastered on his face as he gestures behind you, asking "what about you big-man?" you turn to see who he's addressing, and your eyes land on suhyeok, who looks decidedly annoyed. he's wearing all-white pajamas, which somehow makes him appear less intimidating than usual.

daesu's laughter rings out as he chimes in, "yeah, c'mon bare-su!" he exclaims, using suhyeok's well-known nickname. you can't help but feel a twinge of distaste at the nickname, mainly because it's a reference to suhyeok's peculiar habit of not wearing socks with shoes. suhyeok's expression remains serious as he crosses his arms, leaning against an aisle. "count me out too," he says, his voice firm. you can't help but wonder why he's being so stubborn.

kyungho's eyes lock onto yours, and he asks, "what about you, y/n-ie?" the added cuteness at the end of your name makes you feel a flutter in your chest, and you can't help but feel a little shy.

"me?" you ask, shocked, as if you're surprised he's even considering you. hroryeong's smile falters as she looks between you and kyungho, a confused expression on her face. she seems to be wondering how close the two of you really are. meanwhile, daesu's eyes narrow slightly as he looks at kyungho with suspicion. kyungho raises an eyebrow, his expression daring you to say no. "yeah, sorry. is it cool if i call you that?" he asks, his voice low and smooth.

you laugh, feeling a little self-conscious, and reply, "sure, i don't mind." you pause for a moment before adding, "i don't mind a drink either," as you fidget with your pajamas, feeling a little more aware of your appearance.

kyungho's low, smooth voice sends a shiver down your spine, and you can't help but straighten your posture, feeling a little more alert. "good," he says, his tone dripping with a quiet confidence that makes you feel a little fluttery inside.

just as you're processing the effect of kyungho's voice, you're startled by a sudden movement beside you. hroryeong is pushed aside, and suhyeok's long arm reaches over you, placing a plastic cup still in its bag on the table in front of you. "i'll take one," suhyeok says, his voice low and even, but with a hint of authority. you don't dare to look up at him, sensing a subtle tension in his tone. instead, you keep your eyes fixed on the cup, wondering what just happened.

the atmosphere around you seems to shift slightly, with a subtle undercurrent of tension. kyungho's eyes flicker to suhyeok, a hint of surprise and curiosity in his expression.

hroryeong, who had been pushed aside, clears her throat and steps back, her eyes darting between suhyeok and kyungho. "alright, so... two drinks, then?" she asks, trying to break the tension. kyungho nods, his expression neutral once more. "yeah, two more drinks. coming right up." he turns back to the counter, his movements fluid and efficient as he begins to prepare the drinks.

as kyungho continues to prepare the drinks, the tension in the air seems to dissipate slightly. suhyeok, however, remains standing beside you, his presence still radiating a sense of quiet intensity.

daesu, seemingly sensing the awkwardness, attempts to lighten the mood. "what made you change your mind?" he asks, his voice cheerful and curious. suhyeok's response is low and even, "just thought i'd join in." his tone doesn't invite further questioning, and hroryeong wisely decides not to push the issue. meanwhile, kyungho slides two drinks across the counter, his eyes meeting suhyeok's for a brief moment before he looks away. "enjoy," he says, his voice neutral. you pick up your drink, feeling a little uncertain about what to expect.

as daesu calls for a toast, everyone raises their drinks in unison, cheering and clinking their cups together. you join in, feeling a sense of camaraderie with the group. as you take a gulp of your drink, the liquid burns its way down your throat, making you grimace.

as you tip your head back, your eyes wander from the cup to suhyeok, who's also downing his drink. your gaze is drawn to the column of his neck, stretched out as he tilts his head back. suddenly, you're struck by the size difference between you and suhyeok. his broad shoulders and tall frame make you feel almost dainty in comparison. you can't help but stare, feeling a little awestruck by suhyeok's imposing presence. his eyes, still closed as he swallows his drink, seem to be savoring the moment, and you find yourself wondering what he's thinking.

the tranquility of the moment is shattered by a loud, booming voice echoing from the stairs. "why the hell didn't you guys save me one?" wujin's angry shout sends a ripple of amusement through the group.

daesu, quick-witted as ever, shouts back, "we were waiting, brother-in-law!" his response is met with a burst of laughter from the others. hari, however, takes a more... creative approach. with lightning-fast reflexes, she grabs the nearest object and hurls it at daesu's head. the room erupts into chaos as daesu ducks and weaves, narrowly avoiding the projectile.

mijin's arm brushes against your shoulders as she attempts to draw you into a friendly embrace. "did you like the drink?" she asks, her voice tinged with curiosity.

you gaze down at the bottom of your cup, recalling the unexpected flavor. "it wasn't exactly how i imagined it would taste..." you admit, trying to be diplomatic. mijin's laughter chimes in, and she playfully teases, "yeah." you both share a laugh, your grimaces mirroring each other's as you remember the drink's unusual taste.

as the night wears on, the group finds themselves in a circle on the floor, surrounded by the refrigerated drinks. the hours have slipped away, and midnight is fast approaching. the air is thick with laughter and the smell of snacks and ramen.

more than half the group is now tipsy or downright drunk, and the jokes are getting progressively sillier. wujin, still chuckling, nudges cheongsan and begs him to repeat a joke. cheongsan rolls his eyes, claiming it wasn't that funny, but mijin disagrees, her laughter echoing through the room as she leans against hari, who's also giggling. kyungho gets up to grab a water bottle from one of the fridges behind them, but before he can even take a sip, daesu snatches it from him and starts drinking from it too. the absurdity of the situation sends you into a fit of giggles, and you double over, holding your stomach in laughter. namra watches you with a warm smile, clearly amused by your reaction.

still riding the wave of laughter, you propose, "lets take one more shot!" daesu and wujin erupt into cheers, their enthusiasm infectious and making you even more hyped. in this moment, you're grateful for these two friends, knowing they'll always be up for a good time.

wujin shouts, "yeah, let's do it!" as he nudges suhyeok, who responds with a calm smile and a casual flick of his hair. mijin teases him, "i feel like you're not on the same level as us..." suhyeok just laughs and says, "i'm just feeling warm."

kyungho chimes in, "hey, you could be a good drinker." mijin and hari exchange shocked glances, seemingly surprised by the suggestion. the room falls silent for a moment, awaiting suhyeok's response to kyungho's provocative comment.

suhyeok's enigmatic response, "something like that," hangs in the air as you take the soju bottle and begin pouring shots for those who want them. "hroryeong, you want some?" you ask, but she shakes her head, her eyes already half-closed as she leans back against the aisle. "no, i'm done," she says, her voice laced with exhaustion. daesu seizes the opportunity to tease her, "she can't keep up!" he laughs, and the room erupts into a fit of laughter. you're caught off guard, and your giggles become uncontrollable. you put your head down, trying to compose yourself, but it's no use. the laughter is too much, and you're happy to let it consume you.

as the laughter overtakes you, you feel someone gently pry the bottle from your grasp. you don't even bother to open your eyes, too caught up in the hilarity of the moment. instead, you let your body relax, laying back on the ground as the laughter continues to shake your frame.

onjo slips into your spot, taking over the task of pouring shots for the others. you're vaguely aware of onjo, cheongsan, and namra being the only ones still sober, but even that thought is enough to send you into another fit of giggles. the three of them seem to be enjoying the show, watching their friends with amused smiles.

namra's gentle hands guide you back into a seated position, and she tenderly fixes your disheveled hair. onjo's compliment, "aigoo, y/n, you're so cute," makes you blush, and you pull your knees to your chest, feeling a little self-conscious.

you bow your head, murmuring a soft "thank you," which prompts cheongsan to chuckle and shake his head. just as kyungho is about to ask if everyone is ready for the shot, you suddenly speak up, "wait! where's joonyeong? he needs one." your words are met with an awkward silence, and the laughter that had filled the room just moments before dies down. you look around the circle, expecting to see joonyeong's familiar face, but he's nowhere to be found. "did he go upstairs?" you ask, a hint of concern creeping into your voice. you shout his name, "joonyeong!" but there's no response. namra and onjo exchange an uncertain glance, before turning to look at you, seemingly surprised by your seriousness. the room remains silent, with all eyes on you, as you wait for a response that doesn't come.

daesu's slurred words cut through the awkward silence, "what did you say?" he asks, his eyes squinting slightly as he tries to focus.

you brush your hair out of your face, feeling a warm flush spread through your body as the alcohol takes hold. "huh? joonyeong," you repeat, your tone casual, as if you're discussing something mundane. you shrug, looking around at the others, who are still wearing serious expressions. "what? should we not invite him?" you ask, a hint of confusion creeping into your voice. you laugh, thinking it's all some kind of joke, but the others' somber faces only add to your confusion.

namra's soft voice breaks the silence, "y/n..." she says, her words trailing off as she hesitates to repeat the painful events of just a couple of hours ago. but before she can continue, cheongsan interrupts, "asleep." his voice is firm, but his eyes betray a hint of sadness. "remember? he said he was tired," he adds, his words a gentle lie.

the group's attention turns to cheongsan, their faces a mix of confusion and sadness. you, however, seem to accept his explanation, thinking for a moment before nodding, "oh, you're right. i kinda remember that now." you point at cheongsan, a look of vague recollection on your face. the others exchange somber glances, their expressions a mix of sorrow and confusion. it's clear that they're struggling to understand how you could have forgotten, or perhaps, how you could have thought joonyeong was still alive. the atmosphere in the room grows heavier, weighed down by the unspoken truth.

kyungho, sensing the awkwardness in the air, attempts to shift the mood with a sudden declaration, "okay, let's take this shot then!" the others, grateful for the distraction, quickly grab their shots and cheer before downing them.

as you tilt your head back to take the shot, your hand seems to move of its own accord, spilling some of the liquid down your chin and onto your neck. you hastily swallow the remaining drink in your mouth, wincing slightly at the burning sensation. wujin's enthusiastic "woo!" cuts through the air, followed by nods of agreement from the others. "that was good," he declares, savoring the taste. hari, meanwhile, admits, "i wish i knew drinking games," a hint of wistfulness in her voice.

you bring your fingers to your neck, assessing the damage from the spilled drink. your eyes, now hazy from the alcohol, gaze upward to find kyungho gently wiping your chin with a small towel. he flashes a warm smile, asking, "did you even drink any?" his smile is infectious, and you can't help but laugh. for a moment, you're tempted to lean into his touch, but a tiny voice of dignity within you protests, urging you to maintain some semblance of composure. "i did, i promise," you reply, trying to sound convincing, before a hiccup escapes your lips, betraying your inebriated state.

onjo stands up, adjusting her pants as she announces, "okay, i think i'm gonna take hroryeong upstairs and sleep." you immediately protest, "no! onjo, stay here," but she's resolute.

hari chimes in, "i'mma head upstairs too," and together, hari and onjo carefully lift hroryeong and begin to make their way up the stairs. you watch them go, feeling a pang of disappointment. as you turn to mijin, you ask, "you're staying, right?" but mijin looks uncertain, glancing back and forth between you and hari, who's now disappearing up the stairs. you tease her, "whatever, just go," and laugh, trying to make light of the situation.

mijin hesitates for a moment before she too decides to head upstairs. "alright, i'll go," she says, before turning to leave. you watch her go, feeling a bit deserted.

the group has dwindled significantly, leaving only a handful of people remaining. you glance around at the others, noticing that the atmosphere has become more subdued. kyungho catches your eye and smiles, and you can't help but smile back. "so, what's next?" wujin asks, breaking the silence. he looks around at the others, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "should we play another round?"

the playful banter between mijin and wujin continues, with the others watching with amused smiles. kyungho chuckles and shakes his head, "you two are something else." suhyeok, who had been quietly observing the exchange, suddenly speaks up, "actually, i think wujin has a point." he says, his voice calm and measured. "we could play a game. something to liven things up." the group's attention turns to suhyeok, intrigued by his suggestion. "what kind of game?" daesu asks, his curiosity piqued.

"how about 'rock, paper, scissors, shot'?" you suggest, a mischievous grin spreading across your face. "we can play a best-of-three series, and the loser of each round has to take a shot."

mijin's eyes sparkle with excitement. "oh, i love that game," she says, already pouring herself a shot. "it's so simple, but so brutal." wujin chuckles. "yeah, and it's a great way to get drunk quickly." kyungho nods, a competitive glint in his eye. "alright, let's play. i'm going to crush you all."

the air is electric as everyone prepares for a thrilling round of "rock, paper, scissors, shot." kyungho's voice cuts through the tension, "ready?" the group collectively holds their breath, focusing intently. "rock, paper, scissors!" kyungho exclaims, and in unison, everyone reveals their hand.

namra and cheongsan opt out, leaving you, wujin, daesu, mijin, and suhyeok to battle it out. the results are in, and daesu and mijin triumphantly shout, "we got scissors!" a glance around reveals that everyone else had chosen paper. you can't help but sigh, knowing daesu and mijin are off the hook. wujin breaks the silence, "okay, us four, let's go." the others prepare for another round as kyungho's voice rings out once more, "rock, paper, scissors!" but this time, you notice your vision starting to blur. you blink hard, struggling to refocus.

as you take stock of the situation, you breathe a sigh of relief to see wujin and kyungho are safe, but your anxiety quickly returns as you realize you and suhyeok are the last two remaining. kyungho's enthusiastic shout of "come on y/n!" breaks the tension, while wujin offers suhyeok a supportive pat on the back. the group's energetic chant of "rock, paper, scissors!" fills the air, and you throw a rock, only to have suhyeok try to sneak in a scissors before swiftly changing to paper. you catch him in the act, smacking his hand away, and the group erupts in laughter, with suhyeok joining in. namra observes the scene, noting the way this lighthearted moment has effortlessly dissipated the tension between you and suhyeok.

as suhyeok reaches for a cup, the room erupts in a chorus of cheering, with everyone chanting his name. he chugs the contents instantly, and the crowd goes wild. your gaze lingers on him, and you can't help but notice how captivating suhyeok looks in this moment.

your eyes grow heavier, and your head spins slightly. daesu slurs, "y/n is so drunk," but it's clear he's not one to talk, given his own inebriated state. you turn to him, shaking your finger in mock scolding, "you're worse than he is!" mijin points at daesu, cackling uncontrollably as she topples backward. namra's voice trails off as she mentions heading upstairs to check on the girls, and in an instant, she's gone. the sudden absence isn't even registered until an hour later, when a careless reach for her reveals only empty space.

kyungho's subtle posture hadn't caught your attention - he was leaning on his side, head propped up, and gazing at you with an intriguing smile. mijin, however, had noticed and couldn't help but react with a raised eyebrow. she nudged wujin and discreetly pointed to kyungho, prompting wujin to tilt his head in confusion.

in a slightly slurred tone, mijin asked, "so, kyungho, are you...into guys or girls?" the question hung in the air, and you froze, apprehensive about the potential fallout. even in your intoxicated state, a thread of fear managed to weave its way into your relaxed demeanor. kyungho paused, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. his gaze drifted to the bottle in his hand before he replied, "i like what i like." as he spoke, his eyes locked onto yours, and he took a sip from his bottle. daesu, who was leaning against wujin, caught the intense look and immediately sought wujin's confirmation, as if to validate what he thought he was seeing.

daesu's voice cuts through the air, a hint of forced nonchalance betraying his drunken state. "so, what's your thoughts on my friend here?" he asks, his gesture in your direction drawing attention to you like an unwanted spotlight.

you feel your face grow warm as the conversation continues, your embarrassment simmering just below the surface. "guys, shut up," you interject, your voice low and even, as you turn to wujin. "can you pass me that water bottle?" you ask, nodding towards the refrigerated doors behind him. wujin complies, retrieving the bottle with a bit of clumsiness, his movements a reminder of the evening's events.

kyungho's response is laced with a hint of mischief. "let's just say, i like what i see," he admits, his words sparking a contagious laughter from mijin, who playfully punches him in the arm. her eyes sparkle with giddy excitement at the subtle confession. meanwhile, you maintain a poker face, sipping on the cold water that brings some relief to your embarrassed flush.

kyungho's smirk returns as he recounts your first meeting. "seriously, i was drawn to his charm," he says, his gaze locked on yours. "he was sweet," he adds, his expression sincere. you nod in agreement, giving a thumbs up that sets off a round of laughter. however, not everyone shares the amusement. suhyeok's eyeroll and scoff don't go unnoticed by kyungho, who turns to face him with a serious, low tone. "you don't think so?" the room falls silent, with all eyes on suhyeok.

suhyeok's gaze drifted sideways, his annoyance palpable as he was met with yet another overly flattering comment. "i didn't say anything," he muttered, his tone subdued. kyungho, however, wasn't one to let things slide. "oh, come on," he pressed, taking a sip of his drink. "you were thinking something. the eye roll was a dead giveaway." his words hung in the air, making you feel uneasy for the second time. in that moment, you couldn't help but wish namra was by your side.

suhyeok shakes his head, his expression a mix of concern and amusement. "i think you've had one too many, friend," he says, nodding towards kyungho's drink. kyungho raises an eyebrow, his voice laced with a hint of defiance. "i'm not even tipsy, but i'm a man who values honesty. if you're going to call me out, i'll tell it like it is. apparently, that's not your style." the air is thick with tension as the two lock eyes. sensing the unease, you intervene, your voice soft and soothing. "how about we play another round?”

mijin breaks the tension with a nervous chuckle, "come on guys, let's not ruin the night." wujin chimes in, his awkward smile a testament to the discomfort in the air. "i'm game for another round, but..." kyungho sits up, his eyes fixed intently on suhyeok, "actually, can we clear the air? if suhyeok's not cool with me flirting with y/n, i'd like to know why." the atmosphere grows heavier, the group's attention now squarely on suhyeok.

suhyeok's demeanor shifted in an instant, his eyes transforming into those of a wolf poised to strike. the atmosphere grew thick with tension as you felt a shiver run down your spine. desperate to escape the uncomfortable encounter, you attempted to stand, but a wave of dizziness washed over you, forcing you back into your seat.

concerned voices filled the air as wujin asked, "y/n, are you okay?" mijin's grip on your arm tightened, her eyes filled with worry. "i'm really tired all of a sudden," you stammered, struggling to keep the tension calm. mijin swiftly took charge, helping you to your feet and draping your arm over her shoulders. "let's get you to bed," she said, guiding you upstairs as you stumbled, your vision blurring. "everything is so... fuzzy," you mumbled, rubbing your eye with your free hand.

wujin broke the silence with an awkward suggestion, "i think we should call it a night." he patted suhyeok's back as he stood up, suhyeok agreed by standing up and ttrailing behind mijin and you.

meanwhile, daesu's voice slurred as he slapped kyungho's back, "tomorrow, we drink again!" kyungho returned the gesture, playfully slapping daesu's back in response. “ofcourse!” he said with a bright smile.

kyungho was left to solitude, tasked with gathering the scattered trash while everyone else retreated upstairs. meanwhile, mijin struggled to lift you, her efforts hindered by your shifting weight. your outstretched hand grasped for the wall, but it offered little support. "y/n, come on! use your strength to help me out," mijin urged, her voice laced with a hint of amusement. just then, suhyeok swooped in, gently prying your arm from mijin's grasp and draping it over his shoulder. as he bent down to match your height, he simply stated, "i've got him." mijin nodded in agreement, affectionately ruffling your hair as you gazed down at your feet.

her voice dripped with amusement as she giggled and hurried up the stairs, peeking over the railing to catch your struggle. you leaned into suhyeok's embrace, placing a reassuring hand on his chest. "this is impossible," you whined, to which suhyeok offered a gentle nod and a soft whisper of encouragement: "you've got it." meanwhile, wujin's voice echoed up the stairs, "come on, y/n!" as he helped daesu, equally drunk, navigate the steps.

daesu's sudden declaration, "i think i need to go to the bathroom," is quickly followed by a gagging sound, prompting suhyeok to swiftly scoop you up in his arms. he rushes into the room, gently placing you on your bed. you can't help but laugh at the frantic pace. suhyeok inquires about your well-being, and you nod reassuringly.

just then, wujin's voice echoes from outside, calling for suhyeok's assistance with daesu, who's struggling to make it up the stairs. mijin's cackles can be heard, while suhyeok rushes out of the room to lend a hand, leaving you alone.

as you waited for the others to arrive, you found yourself fidgeting with your clothes, the silence a gentle hum in the background. the sound of footsteps and muffled voices drifted in from the hallway, signaling the boys' passage as they escorted daesu to the restroom. it was then that cheongsan slipped into the room, his voice barely above a whisper as he asked, "is he sick?" your response was a fit of giggles, accompanied by a nod, leaving cheongsan to wonder what had transpired.

cheongsan slid the wooden door shut with a soft creak, seeking refuge in his bed. he collapsed onto the mattress with a contented groan, his voice dripping with relaxation as he murmured, "this is going to be the best sleep ever." you trued to copy him, but your comfort was short-lived. a sudden lump formed in your throat, prompting you to sit up with alarm. "no, no, i need to stay upright," you whined, clutching at your chest with growing unease, fearful of succumbing to the same queasiness that had afflicted daesu.

"i need some water," you whispered to cheongsan, who sprang into action, sitting up with a jolt. his voice was laced with concern as he asked, "are you sure?" you nodded, becoming increasingly aware of the inky darkness that enveloped the upstairs. the alcohol was already wreaking havoc on your vision, and the shadows seemed to be closing in, making your head spin.

the door slid open once more, and suhyeok's voice cut through the darkness, "daesu is throwing up..." but before he could finish, cheongsan swiftly intervened, his voice tinged with urgency. "suhyeok, grab a cold water – y/n needs one, now." suhyeok vanished into the night, his footsteps a distant echo as he hastened downstairs. cheongsan shifted to your bedside, his gentle hands rubbing soothing circles on your back. "you're okay, y/n. hang in there," he whispered reassuringly, as you pressed your fingers to your forehead, fighting to stay awake.

meanwhile, suhyeok's feet pounded the stairs, skipping two at a time, as he hastened to fetch water. his mission was to help his friends rehydrate and sober up, despite his own slightly tipsy state. the cold air seemed to have a sobering effect on him, and he focused intently on his task. he yanked open the refrigerator door and scanned the shelves, his eyes locking onto the largest water bottle. as he pulled it out, he noticed it was the last one. his gaze wandered behind the refrigerator, where the open freezer door caught his attention. beyond it, a deeper freezer door came into view, adorned with a thick chain and lock. suhyeok's curiosity was piqued, and he found himself wondering what could be hidden behind such a secure door. his reverie was shattered by a sudden voice. "hey!" kyungho's greeting made suhyeok jump, his heart racing as he stood up straight, water bottle still in hand.

kyungho descended the aisle with a jog, small packets clutched in his hand, his expression a mask of contrition. "hey, man, i wanted to apologize. what i did earlier was stupid and immature," he admitted, his head shaking in guilt. suhyeok's gaze darted to the staircase before returning to kyungho, his response a simple, acknowledging nod. kyungho extended the packets, a peace offering of hangover remedies. "take these, give some to whoever needs them upstairs. i'll be behind the register if you need anything, anything at all," he said, his tone sincere. suhyeok's eyes flicked to kyungho's frame, a fleeting thought crossing his mind – he could take him down if needed, though it might require some effort. instead, he chose to accept the offering, nodding curtly as he took the packets and closed the fridge door. with a sense of urgency, he hastened back upstairs.

cheongsan moved with gentle purpose, lighting the lanterns scattered throughout the room. the soft glow of the flames cast a warm, golden light, transforming the space into a haven of comfort and tranquility.

you gazed around, taking in the cozy atmosphere, and turned to cheongsan with a smile. "this feels amazing, doesn't it?" you asked, and cheongsan's face lit up with a nod of agreement. "yeah..." he murmured, his voice barely audible, "i wish gyeongsu could've seen this." though spoken under his breath, the words carried to your ears, and you shared a laugh with cheongsan at the thought of gyeongsu's antics. "he would've eaten so much," you chuckled, the image conjuring up a warm, fuzzy feeling.

the door slid open once more, and you anticipated suhyeok's return, but instead, wujin stumbled into the room, his face a picture of distress. "guys, i couldn't take it anymore – he got it everywhere," wujin exclaimed, collapsing onto the floor with a dramatic flourish. cheongsan's eyes widened in shock, "no way, really?" he asked, incredulous. your concern, however, was focused on daesu's well-being, "is he okay?" you inquired, worry etched in your voice. just then, mijin's unmistakable cackles echoed from the hallway, and you couldn't help but ask, "is that mijin?" but your question was cut short as you doubled over, falling forward onto your bed, consumed by a fit of laughter.

wujin's laughter harmonized with yours, "yeah, the girls are trying to get her to sleep," he chuckled, clearly amused by the situation. cheongsan slipped out of the room, likely to lend a hand with daesu. just then, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the doorway, and suhyeok appeared, his voice low and cautious as he whispered, "wujin, watch out." but wujin remained immobile, too caught up in the hilarity of the moment.

suhyeok expertly navigated around him, his eyes fixed on you as he approached. he tosses something in his hand in the forner of the room with annoyance, it sounded like sugar packets but you ignore it. he twisted open the water bottle en route, the soft gurgle of the liquid a soothing serenade. as he sat down in front of you, his expression turned concerned, "you okay? do you feel sick?" he asked, his voice gentle. you smiled and shook your head, feeling an unexpected wave of relief wash over you now that suhyeok was back by your side.

as you gazed at suhyeok, you couldn't help but be captivated by the soft, golden light of the lanterns dancing across his features. the gentle glow seemed to accentuate his inviting expression, making it impossible for you to look away.

your eyes lingered on his hair, which lay flat against his forehead, appearing impossibly soft. suhyeok's sudden command, "open," startled you, and for a moment, you hesitated. your gaze dropped to the water bottle, now poised near your lips, with suhyeok's hand positioned beneath to catch any stray droplets. the tender gesture only added to the sense of intimacy, leaving you feeling momentarily breathless.

you parted your lips, and suhyeok carefully tilted the water bottle, allowing you to sip from it. as you swallowed, his fingertips from his other hand brushed against your throat, sending a subtle feeling in the bottom of your stomach. your gaze drifted upward, meeting suhyeok's eyes, and you felt a flush rise to your ears under his gentle scrutiny. your eyelids grew heavy, blinking lazily as you succumbed to the soothing sensation. the scene was almost surreal, with you resembling a deer calmed by a wolf's gentle touch. wujin, still sprawled on the floor, watched the exchange with an astute expression, as if he had just stumbled upon a profound realization. his eyes sparkled with a knowing glint, while you continued to drink.

suhyeok set the water bottle down, allowing you to catch your breath. you murmured a shy thank you, but suhyeok didn't respond, instead focusing on closing the bottle and placing it beside the bed. the moment was interrupted by cheongsan's shout, "wujin!" which jolted wujin out of his trance-like state.

he cursed under his breath, "shit..." before reluctantly pushing himself up from the floor and shuffling out into the hallway. however, he suddenly stopped in his tracks, tiptoed back to the room, and carefully slid the door closed before continuing on his way. cheongsan's voice echoed down the hallway once more, "wujin!" this time, wujin responded with a shout of his own, his tone tinged with annoyance, "i'm coming already!"

the room fell silent once more, with only the two of you remaining. suhyeok hadn't uttered a word, instead focusing on removing his socks as he padded over to his bed. you watched him intently, your gaze fixed on his every move, much like a devoted puppy awaiting instructions. suhyeok carefully placed his socks beside his bed before walking back over to you, his movements fluid and deliberate. he knelt down beside you, his hands gently cradling your foot as he began to remove your socks. the tender touch sent a warm feeling in you chest, and you couldn't help but bask in the soothing sensation.

suhyeok carefully set your socks aside, mirroring the precise manner in which he had handled his own. the silence was finally broken by your soft, grateful whisper, "thank you."

suhyeok stood up fully, his eyes never leaving yours, and said, "you should rest now. you've had a long night." his voice was low and soothing, a gentle command that brooked no argument. he reached out and carefully pulled the blankets up to your chest, his fingers brushing against yours in the process. you didn't pull away, instead letting the warmth of his hand linger on yours. "i'll be right outside if you need anything," he continued, his voice a soft promise. "just call out, okay?"

suhyeok turned to leave, his footsteps quiet on the floor, but you called out to him again, your voice barely above a whisper. "suhyeok?" he stopped in his tracks, his back still turned to you, and waited for you to continue. "i need you," you said, the words feeling inadequate for the comfort and care he had shown you. suhyeok turned around, a familiar look on his face, and nodded slightly. "what is it?," he replied, his voice low and gentle.

you hesitated, unsure of what to say next, but before you could gather your thoughts, a loud voice echoed down the hallway, "suhyeok!" wujin's boisterous call made both of you turn towards the door, suhyeok's eyes flicking towards the hallway before returning to yours. "can it wait?" he asked, his voice low and questioning. you nodded slowly, feeling a pang of disappointment, but also relief. suhyeok gave a small nod before turning to leave, sliding the door closed behind him. the moment the door clicked shut, you were alone with your thoughts, and they came flooding in. your face grew hot, a deep red spreading across your cheeks as your mind whirled with thoughts of suhyeok. you couldn't shake the feelings that had been building, and you felt overwhelmed. in a desperate attempt to drown out your thoughts, you closed your eyes and pulled the blanket over your head, hiding from the emotions that threatened to consume you.

[babybearnation]

driving home for christmas

⎇oscar piastri x gn!reader - you're spending christmas alone... or are you? (oneshot) ⎇author's note: my first ever oneshot and ofc, it's a gift fic hehe. MERRY CHRISTMAS @koalapastries I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!!!!!! (also sorry, i know you're australian but i know nothing about australian xmas so uhhh reader lives in england) ⎇content warnings: crying, implied depression, light angst with a happy ending ⎇word count: 1.1k

Y/n sighs, nudging the fridge door shut with their hip, a few things rattling inside. Christmas steadily ticks closer and closer and they were not looking forward to when the day would actually arrive. For the first time ever, they'd be spending Christmas alone, and they weren't looking forward to it.

Y/n sighs once more before focusing on making their hot chocolate, craving that much needed chocolatey warmth. Maybe it would make them feel better. Probably not, but it was worth a shot, right?

A bleep from their phone pulls their attention away and they look down at the device, placing the milk to one side to pick it up. What greets them is a text from their boyfriend, Oscar, who'd gone home to celebrate Christmas with his family. The message preview is just a simple [image attached]. Y/n smiles softly and unlocks the phone, a frown quickly forming on their face instead mere seconds later.

It's a cute photo - Oscar's got a silly little Santa hat on and there are all manner of tinsel and light decorations behind him - but Y/n feels bitter and jealous. Why couldn't they be there, celebrating with Oscar and his family?

Y/n sends back a few simple hearts before locking the device and turning back to finish making their drink with a heavy sign. They cradle the hot cup in their palms and stare around at their undecorated apartment with tired eyes.

"This holiday season is gonna suck."

"Hey baby." Y/n says, smiling as Oscar's handsome face fills their phone screen. His camera is more pixelated than normal and he appears to be in a car, the occasionally jerk to his body being captured by the camera.

"Hey, sorry. Meant to call you at home but something came up and now I have to go somewhere. Still wanted to call though." Oscar's voice crackles through the speakers, and Y/n smiles softly. It's a bit rough, but it's better than Oscar not calling at all.

"Where you off to?" Y/n asks, tucking their legs under themself as they stare at Oscar's form, albeit a much poorer quality version. Oscar hums distractedly before registering what Y/n had said, a soft blush coating his cheeks. Y/n's eyebrows furrow in confusion. What could possibly have him so distracted?

"Just a last minute visit to a family friend, that's all. Travelling across half of Australia for it." Oscar says and Y/n hums, frowning softly as they avoid looking at the screen. "You okay?" Y/n sighs at that. Why did everyone have to ask them that question all the fucking time?

"Just... first Christmas all alone, remember? Not even a pet to keep me company." Y/n scoffs, tears building in their eyes. They sigh and lift their head up, blinking away tears. "Sorry..."

"Baby, please, don't be sorry. I'm not gonna claim to know how you're feeling but I'm always gonna be here for you. I'll spend as much of my Christmas with you as I can, I promise you that." Oscar says, the endearing sweetness that made Y/n fall for him evident in his voice. When Y/n looks back down at their phone after blinking away the handful of tears that had graced their eyes, they're greeted by a softly smiling Oscar. Seconds later, he turns his phone, his mum appearing on the screen instead.

"Hello sweetie. Keep your chin up, okay? Next year, you can spend it with us if you're still alone." Nicole says, beaming at Y/n. Y/n smiles and chuckles softly, wiping away the new batch of tears that had sprung up out of nowhere. God, why did this make them so emotional?

"Thank you, Mama Piastri. That means a lot." Y/n smiles softly. Nicole smiles and wishes them a Merry Christmas before the camera is filled with Oscar's far too handsome face again. He looks apologetic and Y/n knows he's about to say goodbye. It hurts, but Y/n can't prevent it.

"I gotta go now, okay? I'll talk to you as soon as I can." Oscar says, a genuine sadness staining his expression. Y/n smiles and says their goodbyes, the call ending seconds later. Their phone drops to their lap as tears flood down their face.

Y/n winces as the brightness of their phone screen hits their face and fills their vision. December 25th, 7:18am. Still nothing from Oscar. It had been over an entire day of no Oscar and Y/n was starting to worry they'd scared him off with their crying a few days ago.

With a groan, Y/n rolls out of bed, padding over to the window. They tug open the curtains, taking in the frost-covered grass at the front of their house. A unfamiliar car is parked outside and Y/n grumbles to themself about neighbours not having the courtesy to ask to use the parking space before doing so.

The more they observe the random newcomer car, the more they notice. The driver is still inside, and unlike the other, more familiar cars that dot the street, this one seems relatively unblemished by the ice and frost outside. Y/n furrows their eyebrows before sighing and turning from the window.

"What am I doing?" Y/n murmurs. They cross to their dresser and pull out some clothes when an insistent knocking sounds at the door. They huff and drop their clothes onto their bed before traipsing out of their room.

Seriously, who the fuck was knocking at damn near 7:30am on fucking Christmas Day? Y/n was alone, sure, but no one else they knew was alone and all of their neighbours kept to themselves on Christmas Day. So who the fuck was it?

Y/n tears the door open as they reach it before freezing, eyes wide in shock at who stands before them. "Oscar?"

"Surprise." Oscar says. Y/n doesn't let him speak further after that, diving into his arms. His bags clatter and thud against the floor as he drops them, lacing his arms around Y/n's torso. "You didn't think I'd let you spend Christmas all alone, did you?" He whispers into their hair.

Y/n pulls away and cups his face, tears threatening to drip from their lash line. Oscar reaches up and wipes away the dampness, a soft smile on his face. Y/n tugs him into a kiss, not caring who could see. Oscar responds eagerly, fingers dipping below the hem of their shirt, brushing along Y/n's soft skin.

"I love you. I love you so much. I love you, Oscar." Y/n says. It's the first time they've said it, yet they know they mean it with each and every fiber of their being. Oscar smiles and kisses them again, tugging them even closer.

"I love you too, baby. Merry Christmas."

© all rights to babybearnation 2024.

[lordprettyflackotara]

blue || masky

SMUT MINORS DNI 18+. tw: this is really depressing angsty smut / this is the au/theorywhere masky isn’t a split personality but instead an alter ego tim created to cope with his new homicidal tendencies as a proxy

Masky stared at the outside of your house, the yellow illumination from your bedroom window signaling to him you were awake. As usual, you were always a night owl.

It had been four months since he had mysteriously disappeared. Tim Wright along with Brian Thomas both vanished into thin air exactly four months ago. Neither of the two had been seen since, the trail detectives followed leading to a dead end. Since then Masky couldn’t bring himself to recall the horrors he had been through. His brain had been fried to practical mush, his humanity and grasp of reality slipping away more and more each day. But even through it all, he couldn’t forget you. You were his first love, his one true love in this lifetime. Despite The Operator’s attempts to make him forget you and protest to him seeing you, Masky still made it to your back door.

He had been stalking you from a far in his spare time, reading your diary and making sure you were taken care of. He knew you kept a spare key in the plant by your back door, hoping he’d come to you. He dug in the shallow dirt, locating the key. He’d come back for you, one last time.

Masky had tried to live his life in black and white since becoming a proxy, but it still had the faintest tint of blue everytime he thought of you. He was only human after all. He unlocked your back door, slipping inside of your quiet house with ease. Your cat, Bee, rubbed against his leg, purring in delight. The white cat adored him, her satisfaction ensuing from his mere presence. Masky petted her gently, before chuckling as she brushed her long tail against his gloved hand. “Where’s my princess Bee? Take me to her,” He whispered. Sure, Masky could’ve made an educated guess, your television upstairs still playing whatever show you were binge watching. You usually did that, fall asleep while staying up late. Masky usually would tuck you in afterwards, making sure the ac was lowered and the tv was turned off. He wondered if he’d be able to do the same now, Bee’s collar jingling as she climbed upstairs.

Masky followed behind her, taking a deep breath as she pranced into your room. “Hi Bebe, come here,” You greeted. Masky took this as his cue to round the corner, taking off his mask. Your eyes widened, your body unable to move fast enough to scramble to get out of bed. You ran to your lover, throwing your arms around him in pure bliss. You soaked in his forest like scent, holding him close to you. “Tim, you’re back,” You cried, tears of joy forming in your eyes. Masky reluctantly hugged you back, patting your hair with one hand while the other held you close. “Hey there princess,” Masky greeted, the sweet nostalgic nick name sounding like pure honey. You nuzzled your face into his chest, afraid to loosen your grip. “I knew you’d come back to me,” You say. You weren’t able to hide the smile that danced across your lips. You looked up, your eyes brighter than Masky had seen them in months. “I’m not here to stay, i’m here to say goodbye,” He informed you. Your smile fell, as did your face. Your eyebrows furrowed, causing you to take a step back. “Goodbye? What happened to you? Are you out of your mind?” You asked, your voice cracking.

Masky took your hand guiding you over to the bed. He sat down on the edge of the mattress and began spilling his guts. He told you everything he could remember, most of his memory unreliable and spotty. He told you about Brian becoming Hoodie, The Operator, what his life been like the past four months. He watched your face shift from disbelief to pure horror. Tears had pricked in the corners of your eyes, your big eyes welling up uncontrollably. You tried to keep the hysterics inside, keeping a straight face as Masky told you everything. At first you hoped he was joking, that this was some sort of sick joke he was playing on you. The sorrow that laced each word told you that he was far from joking. His face had hardened drastically upon closer inspection, faint scars revealed through the illumination of your television on his neck. As he finished you both sat in silence, Bee rubbing against his leg. "Oh Tim...." You whispered. You threw your arms around him, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. Masky returned your hug, flashes of the gruesome murders he had committed flashing though his mind. "Tim died a long time ago princess, i'm what remains. My name is Masky," He whispered back. Unlike Hoodie who had developed a split personality, Tim created an alter homicidal ego to deflect the things he had done onto.

Timothy Wright died on the basement floor somewhere in the mansion, the ancient concrete bricks the last thing he had saw. The last thought he had though? Was of you. Your sweet smile, your laughter. He held you for a moment, listening to you softly cry into his jacket. He wondered if he should have even came. Maybe you would've been better off wondering what happened to him for the rest of your life. The ignorance would have been bliss. You pulled away slowly, your glassy eyes meeting his. "And there's no way out?" You asked softly. Masky shook his head, cupping your face with his hand. "I love you princess. I always have," He confessed. Your eyes flickered back and forth, searching for the Tim you once knew. The life had drained from Masky's face, all that remained being a moving body lacking a soul. You brought your lips to his, the salty tears trailing down your cheeks. "This is the last time i'm seeing you right?" You breathed, your lips not wanting to stray from his. Masky glanced down at your plump lips, before gazing into your doe eyes. "That's right," He murmured. You tilted your head to the side, licking your lips' "Give me something to remember you, something that I can miss the rest of my life," You pleaded.

The dark emotions placed a weight on your chest, the kind that one only feels when starting the grieving process. You weren't ready to grieve with the fact your lover was gone, even if he sat before you. Masky brought his lips back to yours, roughly kissing you. He guided you to lay back onto the mattress, his touch familiar but different. He was a bit rougher and more assertive. And more.... desperate? He shrugged his jacket off, tossing it aside. You wrapped your legs around his waist to bring him closer, before sliding your tongue on his bottom lip. He granted you access, the two of you quickly becoming intertwined underneath the comforter. The netflix show was forgotten, Masky shoving off his gloves. He wiped away your tears with his thumbs, before pulling at the hem of your oversized night shirt. He looked down, noticing it was an old Green Day shirt of his. A pang of hurt shot at his heart, the proxy shaking his head as he tossed it on your bedroom floor. He placed kisses on your neck, trailing down to your breast. You bucked your hips upwards, desperate to feel him closer. He kissed your breast, your nipples hardening from the cool night air.

You tried to focus on how good Masky made you feel, attempting to ward off the thoughts of sadness. He brought one of your nipples to his mouth, sucking harshly at the bud. You gasped at the sensation, his warm tongue swirling around the nipple. You grabbed a handful of his hair, groaning. "I fucking missed you," You groaned, his eager hands pulling down your pajama pants and panties in one swoop. He used his index and middle finger to toy with your other nipple, causing your back to arch off of the bed. He ran two fingers up your drenched slick, relishing in the feeling of your wet folds. The ones he had dreamt of feeling one more time. "I missed you too princess," He panted, releasing your nipple with a bop. You whimpered as he brought his fingers to your entrance, your walls clenching around him. "You've been a good girl, saving yourself for me?" Masky asked, his voice hoarse. You nodded frantically, asking to move your hips to make him go deeper. "I knew you'd come back for me. I haven't even touched myself," You confessed, your face flushing red. He shoved his fingers in deeper, curling them upwards. "That's my girl, so loyal and good for me," Masky huffed. Your gummy walls clung to his digits, his fingers curling upwards and going faster and faster.

You couldn't process the man fingering you wasn't the man you once knew. That the one with his fingers buried in your pussy wasn't the same one who used to play with your hair until you fell asleep. Your brain couldn't accept that he was gone and replaced with a homicidal carbon copy. You tried to focus on the pleasure, forcing yourself to pretend this was just another night. That Tim, the man you knew, was coming back and this wouldn't be the last time you saw what was left of him. You whined as his fingers abused your g spot, curses falling off of your lips involuntarily. Masky enjoyed the sight of ruining you, your face scrunched up in pleasure that only he could provide you. Maybe he was incredibly selfish, allowing his possessiveness result in you only able to love him and no one else. He felt your walls squeeze him tighter, your first orgasm on the rise. "Taking my fingers so well princess, why dont you go ahead and cum for me?" Masky asked. You wanted to moan Tim's name, tears flooding your waterline once you realized you couldn't. Masky couldn't fall off of your tongue, that couldn't be the way you remembered the man you were in love with. You swallowed as you cried out, your vision temporarily white as you released on his fingers.

Masky slowly pulled them out of you, sucking your juices off of his fingers. "I've missed the way you taste," He breathed, fiddling with his jeans. Through the dim lighting of the television you could make out scars all over his body, from his shoulders, hands, to chest. His undershirt covered most of his chest, but you could still see the scars peeking out over the material. He tapped the head of his cock against your folds, causing you to squirm. "So cute and desperate," Masky mumbled, pushing himself inside of you. The stretch was sudden and intense, having not touched yourself since he left. Masky grabbed your legs, bringing them over his shoulders as he bottomed out inside of you. He was so impossibly deep, pressing his forehead against yours as his cock brushed against your g spot. "This is how I wanna remember you," You whispered. Masky's chocolate eyes met yours, a chuckle escaping his throat. "With my cock buried inside of you?" He asked. You nodded, meeting his assertive gaze. "The way you make love to me makes me feel infinite and I want to remember that for the rest of my time on this Earth," You said breathlessly. Masky didn't take your confession lightly, his heart aching at the notion of leaving you. He grabbed your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours as he began to move his hips. You tilted your head back, moaning as he fucked you.

There was something so desperate about his movements, as if they were made so deliberately. As if he were trying to make them as pleasurable as possible to give you something to remember him by. As if your entire relationship wasn't enough. It suddenly felt like a blur of the past, the savory memories you had not enough. Masky began to pick up the pace, fucking you with as much passion as he could muster. “You feel so fuckin tight, shit,” Masky groaned, abusing your cunt as he pleased. You dug your nails into his back, trying to hang on as he fucked you mercilessly. It felt like it wasn’t enough, your body hooked on the feeling he was providing you. All thoughts of grief had been pushed aside, your legs trembling as he fucked you into the mattress. “Fucking shit, Tim-” You cried out. The proxy wanted to correct you, to remind you that version of him was long gone. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to do it, instead placing his hand over your mouth to silence you. The breathing restriction only made you milk his cock harder, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you came. Masky wasn’t far behind you, his hips stuttering as he came inside of you.

You were both intertwined panting messes, Masky slowly pulling himself off of you. He began to redress himself, your small hand grabbing his arm. “Dont leave, not yet,” You whined. Masky looked down at you, cum dripping out of your cunt and face flushed. Yet your eyes were still centered on him, as if he were the center of your universe. “You know I can’t stay,” Masky whispered. You tried to ignore the pain in your chest, swallowing. “I know that. Just pretend to stay, just until I fall asleep,” You pleaded. Masky finished pulling up his pants, crawling back into bed beside you. You nuzzled up against his chest, soaking in his warmth. He began to stroke your hair, trying to do it the way he used to. You appreciated the effort, but you felt the difference. His touch was much rougher now, unintentionally. A single tear slid down your face as he wrapped you in his arms.

“It’s easier this way, pretending you’ll be here when I wake up.”

“I know.”

“I love you, I always will.”

“I love you too princess, I’ll never forget you.”

[jedi-starbird]

I don't care what the hatman says I firmly believe Ahsoka is not describing Anakin as anything other than the most cringefail jedi ever.

When she finds out Anakin is Darth Vader? The same Vader she's been fighting against for a decade? The same Vader who's crimes she's had a front row seat for in the rebellion? Who killed all the friends and family she grew up with and is now also killing the new friends and family she's managed to scrape together in the ashes of everything she ever knew? Who puppets around the 501st, her and Rex's brothers, the men who trusted him with their lives, as nothing more than mindless murderers? Ohoho she wants him dead sooo bad. She takes 3 business days to process then comes back with full murderous rage unlocked. She's outside his evil lair banging pots and pans together telling him to square the fuck up, Master. Her Cain instinct is fully activated. Move outta the way old man, Ahsoka's going to do what she must and she's actually going to follow through with her words.

Obi-Wan's got the cornerstone on depression, Ahsoka's got rage covered, together they almost form one healthy grief response. (I'm imagining them both living at the same rebel base post O66 and the twins going between them for wildly contrasting takes on their dad lmao)

[quartings]

Thoughts and Theories on Pokemon Legends Z-A

With Pokemon Legends Z-A being very different from Legends Arceus, I wanted to figure out what all the differences we know so far are, and what similarities there were to connect the two as "Legends" games.

So here are all the big similarities and differences with a pinch of speculation and a dash of slight TeraLeak info!

Differences between PLA and PLZA:

Pokemon may no longer be able to kill you.

It’s a modern world- you can actually fight trainers, and many different kinds! With this extra source of Exp and gameplay, will there be less focus on mass catching and research tasks?

To build on this, the “boss fights” will likely no longer be noble Pokemon, or not even singular Pokemon at all. Instead, they will likely take the form of trainer battles. Not Gym Leaders, as that would undermine Clemont’s job. Instead, they may be major city figures who use Megas, whom you must recruit to give you access in developing the rest of the city.

Less focus on crafting, maybe more focus on money and business-building? Dex completion will likely still contribute to earning funds in some way, though.

The cast can’t be ancestors anymore- instead we get timeskip designs to show off. Most likely the residents of Lumiose. Clemont, Bonnie, Emma. Maybe other Kalos residents like Xerosic, Sycamore, Sina, and Dexio. Hopefully even Calem and Serena!

Maybe the Fallers subplot will continue, maybe not. Maybe depressed Emmet will be here.

While regional variants may still be around, there will likely be less focus on them thanks to the return of Megas.

To help us estimate how many new Megas there may be, there were 28 Megas in XY. 18 Megas in ORAS. 18 Alolan Forms. 20 Galarian Forms. 16 Hisuian Forms. 4 Paldean Forms. 22 Paradoxes (Counting Koraidon & Miraidon)

With less focus on the wilderness, Ride Pokemon may have a reduced role (Cabs and Gogoat could return) and parkour combined with Rotom Phone upgrades will likely further replace Ride Pokemon.

With Megas returning, this could mean the potential return of abilities and held items. This is not a guarantee, though. Megas have appeared in many other games that lacked either abilities or held Mega Stones, including Let’s Go, Pokemon Go, Mystery Dungeon DX, Shuffle, Smash Bros, MastersEX, and more.

Most notably, you are bound to one city instead of a whole region.

The urban environment means we could get complex new indoor areas for the first time since USUM in 2017 (If you don’t count Let’s Go and BDSP as remakes)

So, what IS a Legends game?

Similarities between PLA and PLZA:

You return to an older Pokemon region at a different point in time compared to the original games (Past/Future). As opposed to remakes, which re-tell the events of the original games.

The starters are a mixed assortment of previous starters (likely) with new forms for their final stages.

You are not taking the Pokemon League challenge in any way. Instead, you are building up a civilisation (Jubilife Village/Lumiose City)

Heavy theming on the balance between humanity and nature. PLA is about urbanizing and colonizing a wilderness, and PLZA is about re-introducing nature to a developed city.

“Drive by” catching is a thing, where you can throw Pokeballs at Pokemon without engaging in a battle screen to fight them.

The battles themselves diverge from the typical turn-based format of the mainline games.

While you are not able to explore the whole region (Floaroma, Eterna, Canalave, and its islands aren’t in PLA), what you can explore is divided into five different roamable areas, unlocked as you progress through the story.

A marketable appeal in seeing a region and its characters in a different time (Ancestors in PLA and timeskip designs in PLZA)

A marketable appeal in introducing new forms for existing Pokemon and (likely) even a small handful of new Pokemon!

Sidequests given to you by townsfolk help flesh out the world and its people.

No version exclusives, and story focus on a Trio master legendary/mythical which didn’t have its own game before.

[witchygagirlwrites]

Us Again-Part 2

Greg Mouse Gerwitz x Reader (nicknamed Tink)

You ask Mouse to go home to get some sleep and so you can catch your breath

Warnings: depressive thoughts, mention of injuries

You wondered for a while just how long you could pretend to be asleep and the nurses would buy it. You didn’t want to face anyone. You were in a damn hospital where half the freaking staff knew you it seemed. Your doctors both called you by your nickname over your given name. You didn’t want to face your friends, your unit.

Every time Hailey would talk to you, you could see the hope in her eyes for some vague recognition that you just couldn’t pull out. The rest of your unit just seemed sad to know you couldn’t remember them and your boss, Hank Voight…you couldn’t even get a read on him. He’d just patted your non injured leg and told you “You’ve made it through worse even if you don’t remember it”

The person you didn’t want to face the most was asleep in the chair next to your bed. Greg hadn’t left your side since he’d gotten to the hospital the day before. You’d asked why he hadn’t been there when you came in, not maliciously just curiously. He’d explained that his contract still had six months on it but your injury qualified a leave of compassion. He’d had to get on a plane to come home. Meaning he’d come from sleeping god knows where, in god knows what conditions to sleeping in an uncomfortable looking chair in a hospital room just to be with a woman that couldn’t even remember ever knowing him.

You were fairly certain the two of you must have a home, a place he could go and get some decent rest. You sat there, staring at his sleeping form and wondering just what your life together was like. What kind of detective were you? How did your friendships within your unit form? How did you meet and fall in love with the man wearing a wedding ring that you’d placed on his finger?

He’d asked if you wanted yours but considering your left arm was casted you asked if he’d hold onto them so he slipped them onto the chain of his dog tags. The truth was you felt a little weird at the idea of slipping a wedding band on when you couldn’t remember your husband. You gently ran your finger over the tan line left behind on your ring finger. 

Greg started to stir and you tried to act like you weren’t just staring at him. He sat up, stretching and tried to hide the grimace from the angle his body had been at. “Morning” he spoke with his voice low. You smiled slightly “Good morning, why don’t you go home Greg? I’ll be ok for a few hours. I’m sure you’d like to shower and get some sleep in an actual bed” 

_____________________

It made Mouse’s heart flip at the fact that you were still showing concern for him, even without actually knowing him. He didn’t know how to tell you he didn’t want to go home because he’d never slept in that bed without you, that a part of him was worried that if he left the hospital you’d forget him again. What little you did know of him.

His face must have shown more than he thought because you laughed lightly “Will said I shouldn’t forget anything new. I’ll still remember that you’re my husband, even if I don’t remember backstory” he couldn’t help the laugh that fell from his lips because god that was such a you thing to say. Playing off something this serious in an attempt to look after everyone else.

“If there’s anything you want to know, I’ll do my best to answer” he offered and you nodded slowly “Can um can I see some photos or something? Of us? I mean I believe you that we’re together. Proof is apparent but I just want to see”

“Of course” he replied and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He unlocked it and went to his photo gallery before cutting his eyes up at you and smiled when you were staring at him, even bruised all to hell and back with stitches and staples everywhere, you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. “Before dating, dating, wedding or married?” you laughed “You have them separated?” 

“They’re not separated as much as I can pinpoint which is which for you or I can just hand it over and let you scroll. Nothing in there you can’t see” he offered and you shrugged, wincing when it pulled something. “Can I just scroll?” he nodded and held the phone out “All yours”

When your fingers brushed against his, you could see the way his eyes traced your movements. He really did love you. You just wished you could remember loving him. “Thank you” you whispered and he nodded then pointed to the door “I’m um gonna go see if Will or Connor is around yet” “Ok”

___________________

You watched him walk out, how tense his shoulders were and felt your heart drop yet again. Maybe it would have been better for everyone if you hadn’t woken up. Then it would’ve been just mourning you being gone. They wouldn’t be forced to mourn you while you were still here.

You blinked back tears that threatened to spill before looking at his phone. The first photo was one of you and Jay. You were sitting on a desk in what looked like a police bullpen. Guess that was where the two of you worked? You were turned talking to Jay. Greg must have snuck that photo because neither of you were looking at the camera but you were laughing about something. 

The next photo was one of you and Greg, you were leaning your head over on his shoulder and smiling at the camera. You scrolled through the photos, feeling more and more tears come as you looked through a life you didn’t remember. Photos of you in full police gear. Photos of you laying across Greg’s chest in bed. Photos of the two of you with Jay and Hailey. Photos of the two of you getting married, of you with a man that looked a lot like you. Guess that was your brother. 

You finally just laid the phone down. You couldn’t take much more. This was a life you lived that you had no idea if you’d ever get it back. You took a few deep breaths but they were painful going down because of your ribs. Your right leg ached, your left arm felt like it burned under the cast, your head throbbed and you just wanted to go back to sleep. 

Mouse stood in the hallway outside of your room. He felt like you needed space from him but he desperately wanted to be near you. Jay showed him the photos of your car to help prepare him for how injured you were. He didn’t know how you managed to come out of that thing.

“Mouse” he turned to see Will walking up and gave him a small smile “Morning Will” the redhead nodded towards your room “She awake?” he nodded “Yeah, she asked to see photos. I gave her my phone so she could just go through on her own” 

“That’s good, she’s trying to remember” Will assured him and he took a deep breath “How bad are her injuries Will?”  “She has a simple, linear fracture of her skull. That’s what caused the concussion. Her left arm is broken in two places, she broke three ribs. Two of which punctured her spleen and we had to repair the damage from that. She also has a closed fracture of the tibia on the right leg. All in all I’m surprised physically she has such little damage from the wreck. We’re consulting with neurologists about the amnesia and the hope is that maybe as the fracture heals and the swelling goes down that her memory will begin to return”

Mouse scoffed “The hope? Will I’m not trying to be an asshole here but you’re using words like the hope in regards to Tink!”  “Mouse, I can’t do anything else. None of us can until she starts to heal. You’ve got to give her body time. It’s a miracle she is in as good of a shape as she is”

He nodded, taking a deep breath. He wasn’t mad at Will. He knew that. He was mad at the entire damn situation. He was mad that he nearly lost you. Mad that someone valued their freedom more than your life. He was mad that you were in pain, physically and mentally. He was mad that he was helpless to do anything for you.

“I’m sorry Will, I didn’t mean to snap at you” he apologized and Will nodded “I understand man. We all love her though, remember that. You’re not alone here. When she gets to the point of discharge we have a plan in place with psychotherapy, occupational therapy, physical therapy and cognitive therapy” 

“Ok” he breathed and looked back to the room. “I just hate seeing her in pain” Will patted his shoulder “I know, the fight’s just started though. She’s gonna need you a lot in her corner. Don’t give up on her yet” “Never have, never will” Mouse told him with a small smile.

When Mouse walked back into the room you handed him his phone but he noticed how your hand was shaking when you did. “Baby, are you hurting?” he asked and saw you flinch. You had never once flinched around him. Not after getting shot, abducted..nothing. 

He sank down into the chair, eyes never leaving you. You slowly shook your head “I’m ok” but your eyes didn’t quite meet his. “I’ll try to stop calling you baby for now. Sweetheart ok?” he offered and you smiled slightly “Yeah, I’m sorry it’s just…it’s nothing Greg..you can call me whatever”

The puffiness around your eyes told him you’d been crying. He hated it, you always talked to him and now you saw him as a stranger that knew you. “Whatever it is you can tell me Y/N” he tried and you raised your eyes to his “I’m ok…. I think maybe I’m just tired”

He nodded “Do you want me to see if they can give you something for pain or do you just want some sleep?” “I just want to sleep, maybe you should go at least get some food?” you whispered and he smiled “Ok, I’ll walk down to the cafeteria. Do you want anything?”

“I can’t have caffeine, something about it screwing with the concussion” you muttered and he nodded “Want some tea? You like chamomile?” “That sounds good, thank you” he stood and had to stop himself from walking over to press a kiss to your temple. He nodded and headed for the door. He stopped with his hand on it “Your phone got trashed in the wreck but I can get you a new one and just back up everything you had on the cloud if you want”

“Please?” you asked and he smiled “I’ll get that done for you today” and walked out the room. 

______________________

Mouse was walking out of the cafeteria, carrying your tea when he heard Jay call his name and looked up to see him and Hailey walking towards him. “Hey” he greeted and Hailey nodded towards the cup “She wanting tea?” he shrugged “She can’t have caffeine, I offered chamomile since she normally likes that” he stared down at the cup “I don’t know what else to do here”

“How’s she doing?” Jay asked and Mouse raised his gaze back up “The same? I think she’s already getting frustrated” a small grin tried to work its way onto Mouse’s face “That stubborn streak doesn’t forget her even if she forgets it” Hailey smiled “She’s strong, she’s gonna fight out from under this” 

The three walked back up to your room together while Mouse told them about the treatment plan going forward that Will had laid out for him. “Sounds like we have a gameplan at least. You know we’re all backing you. If you need help with anything, appointments, whatever. We’re here” Jay offered and Mouse nodded “I know, thank you”

You were just sitting in your bed, staring at a blank spot on the wall. You shifted your right leg, wincing against the pain in it. Your left arm had an itch on it that you couldn’t come near reaching and your head hurt so damn bad but the pain meds that gave you made your tongue feel like a fucking cotton ball.

You were still trying to make sense of all this. A few days ago you were apparently a happily married detective with a good amount of friends who loved you. Now you were this hull that couldn’t recall losing your own brother. Will told you it would take time, that the skull fracture could take six to eight weeks before it would mend and your memory could begin to heal somewhere along that timeline or a little longer but it was what he didn’t say that was louder. 

Your memory may never heal completely. If that happened you would lose the life you had. You would remain this shell and drag everyone who once loved you down with you. You swallowed the tears threatening to fall as a knock at the door made you wipe the tears away with your right hand. “Yeah?” you called as Greg came in first, followed by Jay then Hailey.

You smiled when you saw Hailey. You didn’t know what it was but just like you felt that comfort to fall apart in Greg’s arms you felt a different type of comfort around Hailey. Like a part of you was trying to recognize them but it was blocked off, boxed up somewhere inside your brain. “Hey” you greeted as Jay and Hailey both greeted you.

Greg held the tea out “I got it with two sugars, it’s um how you used to take it” you reached your hand out and tried to smile “Thank you” he nodded and motioned for Hailey to sit down. You watched him take a step back from the bed and sighed, letting your finger trace the brim of the cup. “Greg, can you ask a nurse about some pain medicine please?” he nodded as soon as you spoke “Of course” and walked out.

The moment the door closed you looked at Jay “Can you make him leave?” his eyes widened “Who? Mouse?” you felt an eyebrow shoot up and that caused a wince because it shifted your staples “Who the hell is Mouse Jay?” Hailey slapped his shoulder “Idiot!” then looked at you “Mouse is Greg’s nickname” you nodded slightly “Ok, all of you call me Tink so fair enough but yeah. He’s sleeping in a damn chair and hurting himself. He needs actual sleep. It’s not helping anything with him being here. I’m stable, I’m not gonna up and die if he goes home. Honestly? I need a breather because I feel so guilty every time he looks at me because it’s so obvious how much he loves me and I don’t know him”

“Have you brought it up to him?” Jay asked and you dropped your gaze down to the tan line on your ring finger again “I don’t want to hurt him any worse” Hailey gently took your right hand “It’s ok sweetie, we’ll talk to him” you raised your eyes to hers “Thank you” “Of course, do you want either of us to stay or do you want to just be alone?” “I don’t want anyone to throw their schedules off anymore than needed for me. Come after work or on lunch. If I’m down, isn't the unit down a detective?” 

Jay shook his head “This is why you were Al’s favorite. Always the damn logical thinker even in the most extreme circumstances” “Someone has to be” you replied and he grinned “You still got that sass Tink” 

Greg walked in and you looked at Jay “So do I call him Mouse or Greg?” Greg laughed “You only call me Mouse when you’re pissed at me” “Good to know” you replied as a nurse followed him in “Detective Gerwitz? I have you something for pain?”

Hailey cut her eyes at Jay and he took that as the hint to pat Greg’s shoulder “Come on buddy, let’s talk a minute”

______________________

“She wants me to leave?” Mouse whispered and Jay shook his head “It’s not how it sounds. She’s just worried you’re hurting yourself sleeping in the chair. She wants you to get some actual sleep and she’s drowning in guilt for not knowing you” “I don’t want her feeling guilt” Mouse’s voice broke at the end and Jay put his hand on his shoulder “I know man, just give her this. Let her catch her breath. Didn’t you say she wanted a new phone? Take the time to get it for her and bring it back to her later”

“Yeah, I can do that” Mouse whispered and Jay smiled slightly “This isn’t gonna be easy. If it gets to be too much..tag me or Hailey in” “I can take care of her Jay” Mouse argued and Jay nodded “I know but we love her too and we love you jackass. Let us help as needed, ok?” “Ok, I’m sorry for being snappy Jay” 

Jay shrugged “If it was Hailey? I’m pretty sure I’d be worse” “I don’t care if she never remembers me, I’m not leaving her” Mouse whispered and Jay nodded “I wouldn’t expect any less from you. I know how much you love her. I know how much she loves you. This won’t take that away”

“Guess I’ll go tell her I’m leaving, I’ll go get her a phone and get it hooked up and bring it back. Then when she needs a breather she can still reach out to whoever she wants as needed and have her own photos to look through?” Mouse was talking more to himself than Jay but Jay nodded nonetheless “Sounds good man”

You stared at the phone, Greg had brought it to you an hour or so after he left then told you he was going to stay at yours and his house for the night. You were glad he was sleeping in an actual bed. You slowly scrolled through the photos on your phone. You had a lot of your unit. Adam, Kim, Kevin…a few you hadn’t met but they were taken in the same bullpen. Maybe you needed to ask Jay?

You had some that Greg had identified as your brother Levi. There were so many of Greg. You smiled as you scrolled through them but the ache in your chest only amplified with every photo. It was like you were looking at an entirely different version of you and god she was happy. 

You finally sighed and clicked Greg’s name. It annoyed you that you could remember how to do anything and everything but not your husband’s favorite color or the first time you kissed him or when you graduated the academy.

You stared at the message bubble before typing out Have a good night. I’ll see you tomorrow and thank you for the phone

You didn’t know what else to say so you laid it down, leaning your head back against the pillows. 

______________________

Mouse had gotten a shower and was sitting on the edge of the bed, running his fingers over your wedding rings that were resting on his dog tag chain. He normally would’ve taken them off by now and tucked them into a drawer but he wanted your rings close. The fact that you felt so damn guilty for something out of your control was killing him. He imagined so many things going wrong over the years with you being in the intelligence unit and him being back in the rangers. This? This wasn’t one of them.

His phone chimed and his heart leapt into his throat when he saw your name. He clicked it and it read Have a good night. I’ll see you tomorrow and thank you for the phone well it wasn’t an I love you like he was used to getting but it was communication so he’d take it.

He texted back Of course. If you need anything else, think of anything else you want. Let me know 

He laid the phone down next to him and prayed to see the bubbles that meant you were texting more but they never came. He looked up at the photo of you and him that was next to the bed, it was from the day the two of you got married. You were laughing and he had his arms wrapped around you. You both looked so damn happy. 

He had to meet with some higher ups in the ivory tower about your workers comp and Voight was pushing for line of duty benefits as well. He didn’t need the money as much as the insurance to help with the specialists. You needed the best medical care possible. 

He stood up to finish getting ready for bed. He wasn’t sure he’d sleep any without you next to him but at least maybe it would put your mind at ease if he was at home and you thought he was sleeping.

Part 3

@shadotiger9

@forensicgirl99

@elvenpirate51

[paper-possum-party-pal]

Meet The Narrator!

And it appears that there are two other characters to unlock in this lineup!

I’ll give you all the lore for main tsp AU once I reveal the design for the final character, but for now you get to learn about my Narrator!

The Narrator is a being known as an Informis Voxumis that has spent years observing humanity. The Narrator and other beings like him do not have natural physical forms, they’re just a voice/consciousness stretched across planes of dimensions and reality. This existence intersecting these planes can allow them to build physical forms for themselves, but it’s incredibly difficult to do so considering the matter that needs to be pieced together in a functional manner. It’s a miracle that The Narrator would eventually manage to pull it off. Informis Voxumis, or ‘Voices’ for something simpler, existed across the galaxy since near the beginning of time, but their numbers have dwindled to the point that The Narrator and his two cohorts have only interacted with each other, and while there’s still probably more out there, it’s unli they’ll ever meet. There are two more Entities similar to the Informis Voxumis that are also watching over Earth and the three Voices, but that’s a story for another day.

The Narrator’s Bio!

(The Narrators fear and disdain for humanity is completely warranted. Not only are living things, to him, gross meat things that do awful gross stuff, but intelligent mortal beings are fully capable of killing or controlling the Informis Voxumis. How? Oh I definitely totally remember how and am certainly not stalling to tell you when I figure it out)

After spending years watching humanity The Narrator begins to grow bored, and while he’s weary about interacting with any aspect of Earth, he’s become insatiably curious. The Narrator gets the clever idea (in his opinion) to create a human and place it in a little sandbox he’s created to study the idiosyncrasies of humanity.

This is the start of The Parable.

Unfortunately for The Narrator, he doesn’t really know what he’s doing and while he thinks he’s making a completely original human, he’s actually plucked the recently deceased soul of one Stanley and has begun fiddling around with it. The original Stanley is mostly lost in this process, and beyond the few remanents left of Stanley, he is nothing more than a shell of what he once was, so at first he doesn’t really do much. The Narrator then has to tweak Stanley until he can move around, understand orders, etc. This creates a new Stanley with no memories of the past beyond what the Narrator has shoved into him for his character. This new Stanley starts out curious and optimistic, but you know how the story goes by now. He loses that optimism, starts doing everything he can to go against and irritate The Narrator, and they start butting heads. This begins their on again off again friendship and rivalry.

I’m still deciding when in the timeline it happens exactly, but The Narrator eventually makes his human form, partly to prove that he’s better than humanity and that he’d make a great human. Another repressed part of him did it because he was curious and lonely, and the most repressed part of him did it because he noticed how lonely, depressed, and touch starved Stanley was becoming. He doesn’t use it for a long time after making it, he hides it and doesn’t tell Stanley, but eventually he’s given the push he needed to try it out and finally greet Stanley in person.

He is immediately punched in the face.

Stanley doesn’t apologize, which is warranted, but that’s the moment they really start over and try to get along better.

That’s one(ish?) part done. Sorry if I’ve rambled on too much or if it’s disjointed. I’m honestly not used to writing things down like this and I needed to put what I had in my head out into the world. I’ll probably write a more comprehensive document or something, maybe answer questions, idk. It probably doesn’t help that there are certain aspects of this AU that I’m still trying to develop. I’ll need to make a separate things so I can make it clear exactly what’s going on with Stanley.

One final note, my Narrator does share a human name with one of @shinakazami1 Narrator’s from her lovely Ao3 fic “Destiny Surely Likes to Play Tricks” that she made with Taking_L’s. I wanted to make sure they got proper credit, and if you haven’t read it already, you really should! I’ll be posting a link to the fic separately since this post is already long enough.

Congrats if you managed to wade through my idea speghetti, good job! And thanks for all your lovely words in my last posts, it really makes my day!

The first image but without the character shadows

[ecstasyhighway]

Where home is | gabriel reyes

husband!gabriel ‘reaper’ reyes x wife!reader

cw: some spanish! angst? fluff? idk , p in v , smut!! , military/blackwatch au? , breeding kink (?) i think thats it?? lmk if i missed anything

an: naw i dont speak spanish i used a translatior so i apologize for any mistakes, and irdc if he doesn’t speak it either its a headcannon guys leave me alonee. uhhh anyways i need him

wc: 2k ish

not proofread

It has been 12 months and 3 days since Gabriel left for a Blackwatch mission, no calls, no texts, nothing. Although you know he's busy and can't talk, you still miss him.

The house feels empty, even with your 2-year-old daughter Eliana running around it still feels empty. There have been endless nights of crying and on those nights you send Eliana to your mother's house. You miss him, you really do.

On Monday morning a package arrived addressed to you, from an unknown sender. You slowly open the box and see a cute plush bear holding a heart with the words I love you, you smile and tears swell in your eyes. You reach deeper into the box and feel an envelope. Inside the envelope was a letter from your husband, Gabriel.

"Mi reina, I miss you with all my heart. There is not a day that I do not think of you and Eliana. I am sorry that I am not able to contact you, this is a complicated mission but we are almost done. I will be home soon, wait for me - Gabe"

Those last words bring immense joy to your heart, your husband will be home soon! You will finally be able to hug your man, kiss him, hold him, and cry to him. You can finally relax knowing he is alive and home with you and your daughter.

It has been 2 months since you received the news from your husband, every day felt like a stab in the chest. You were beginning to lose hope, you weren't sure if he was coming home. The thought of him never coming home was enough to send you into a depression, but you refused. You knew he would come home, he has to.

It was 1 am on a Friday, you were asleep in your bed when the door unlocked and opened. Your husband made his way to your shared room and sighed happily. He walked to your sleeping body and carefully shook you awake. Your eyes opened slowly trying to focus on the blob before you. Immediately your senses were filled with the smell of Gabriel's cologne, you shot up and threw your arms around the man, sobbing as he held you close.

"I'm home mi amor," he said softly as a tear fell from his eye. You grabbed him pulling him onto the bed, peppering his face in kisses, you looked into his eyes and smiled feeling his weight on your body, your legs wrapped around his torso as you kissed him passionately, savoring the moment, afraid it would vanish into nothing if you didn't.

"I missed you so much Gabe" you sighed softly against his lips. His calloused hands grab you softly as he rolls onto his back making you straddle him. The kiss deepened as your tongues danced around each other, his hands resting on your ass kneading into the soft flesh. He breaks the kiss to suck at your neck, searching for that spot that makes you whimper. Your body involuntarily grinds on him as you enjoy the feeling of his lips on your body. "I missed you, and this body…fuck, forgot how sexy my wife was" he murmured against your skin, hands roaming over your body pulling you impossibly closer.

You pull away and look into his eyes "I was so scared… I was so worried you wouldn't come home…" you admit to him as tears fall down your cheek. He wipes the tears from your face and stares at you lovingly "I know, but m' here now, and I won't be leaving for a while." with a newfound urgency he captures your mouth in his, you could feel the passion and hunger in his kiss. A fire ignited in your body and he grabbed your thighs to encourage you to continue grinding, you felt him harden beneath you and you gasped "Missed you s'much… I need you s'bad…please" a smirk forms on his lips hearing those words.

He grabs at your shirt, almost tearing it off. Gabriel trails kisses down your body, starting at your neck and working his way lower. He peppers soft, open-mouthed kisses across your collarbone, down between your breasts, and over your stomach. Each kiss sends little shivers of pleasure through your body, making you squirm with impatience.

Finally, he reaches your core. He spreads your thighs wider and settles between them, looking up at you with dark, hungry eyes.

"So beautiful," he murmurs, before leaning in to inhale deeply at your entrance. The warm puff of air against your sensitive flesh makes you gasp.

"Gabe, please..." you whimper, desperate for him to taste you.

He smirks at your plea, then dips his head lower. His tongue flicks out, running from the bottom of your slit up to your clit in one long, slow lick. The flat of his tongue presses against your most sensitive bundle of nerves, sending sparks of pleasure through your body.

"Mmm," he hums against you, the vibration adding to the sensory overload. He begins to lap at you in earnest, his tongue circling your clit before dipping lower to spear inside you. He alternates between these two motions, occasionally sucking gently on your clit.

Your hips buck involuntarily, seeking more friction. Gabriel reaches up to grip your thighs, holding you still so he can set his own pace. "quit moving, lemme take my time… missed this pussy- missed your taste" The wet sounds of his tongue lapping at your juices fill the room, mingling with your soft moans and gasps. He inserts a finger into your hole finding that spongy spot on the inside of your walls, a cry leaves your throat at the stimulation. He continues licking your puffy clit and pumping his fingers as you leak down his chin. You feel that familiar knot tie in your core "Please- fuck m'so close Gabe please" he pushes your legs back opening you further, he speeds up his movements feeling you clench around his fingers, he groans into your pussy sending vibrations up your spine sending you over the edge. Your legs shake as you cum on his face with a cry "That's it, atta girl" he coaxes you through your orgasm, still pumping his fingers to help you through it. Once your breathing steadies he kisses you once again, letting you taste yourself.

"You taste so sweet, I could eat you all day" he chuckles softly as he rubs soft circles on your swollen clit, overstimulating you. "I..mmf- know but that can wait, i need you in me right n..now" you whine over choked moans. He smiles as he swiftly undresses, revealing his strong body. You bite your lip in anticipation and a whine escapes you. He lets his cock free and it slaps against his abdomen, he gives it a few strokes before putting it against your slit. He uses your cum and slick as a lube, rubbing the tip against your clit causing you to shake "Stop teasin' Gabe-" he slips his hard cock into your slippery hole making you cut yourself off with a moan.

The stretch is so delicious, you could cum again. His pace is slow as he takes in the warmth of your cunt "fóllame princesa, me perdí este coño" he curses under his breath as he pushes himself deeper. your nails scratch at his back as he thrusts into you, his head falls into the crook of your neck to suck on it leaving dark hickeys claiming you as his. his pace fastens as he thrusts into you, the lewd sounds of skin slapping fills the room. your eyes roll to the back of your head as you dig your nails deeper into his skin, wrapping your legs around his waist pushing him impossibly deeper. your orgasm approaches quickly and your cunt squeezes around his cock as he slams into you. the bed creaking with each harsh thrust.

"shit, you're so tight," he groans, his hips snapping forward with each thrust. "I'm not gonna last much longer." The thought of him cumming inside you pushes you closer to the edge. you reach down to rub your clit, desperate for release. The added stimulation combined with his relentless pace sends you careening over the edge once again. "oh fuck, Gabe, i'm cumming!" you cry out, your cunt clenching around him like a vice. The feeling of your walls pulsing and fluttering around his cock is too much for him to bear.

With a final, powerful thrust, Gabriel buries himself deep inside you as he finds his own release. You can feel his hot seed flooding your core, triggering another wave of pleasure that crashes over you. He collapses on top of you, both of you panting heavily as you come down from your highs.

He pulls out and gives your pussy a smack causing you to yelp. gabriel watches as his cum seeps out of your cunt, growing hard at the sight, "fuck…look at that… she so messy hmm? my wife and her pussy are so gorgeous" you blush at his words as arousal builds in your core once again. "mmm aún no he terminado, m'gonna get you pregnant again"

with that he throws your legs over his shoulders, putting you in a mean mating press, allowing him to sink deep into your heat. the warmth of his body weighing on yours excites you, bringing you comfort and peace knowing your husband is finally home.

his tip brushes against your cervix with each thrust, the feeling being both uncomfortable and pleasant "look at me mi amor, look at me while i make love to you" you meet his gaze, eyes filled with hunger and lust for you, he kisses you passionately as he continues fucking you like he hates you. "gabe.. youre so deep fuck" he groans in response The mating press allows you to feel every inch of his thick, hard length as he slides in and out of your dripping wet pussy. Your bodies are pressed so close together that you can feel the heat of his skin, the pounding of his heart, and the raggedness of his breaths.

tears begin to fall down your cheeks as you feel your orgasm build in your body, the intense pleasure and overstimulation adding to it. "gabe-fuck im gonna cum again..ngh" you gasp and squeeze around his length as your legs tremble. his pace doesn't falter as he continues thrusting, bringing you closer to the edge. your orgasm crashes into you like a tidal wave making your back arch slightly. a powerful wave of liquid escapes you as your eyes roll to the back of your skull, fat tears running down your cheeks from the pleasure. He groans deeply and continues his movement, hips stuttering as he cums deep inside you, not moving for a second leaving both of you breathing heavily.

he pulls out and softly removes your legs from his shoulders, massaging them as he looks at you with nothing but love and affection. He kisses your lips once more before getting up and grabbing a towel to clean you both up. by the time he's back with a warm wet towel you had fallen asleep. He wipes your cum filled cunt softly as he listens to your breathing and smiles. He gets into bed with you, bringing you closer to him and hugging you tightly as he whispers "I love you" before he joins you in slumber. naked bodies tangled together, warmth surrounding each other, nothing but comfort and peace fills the air.

you wake up to a heavy arm around your waist. you turn around to see your beautiful husband snoring obnoxiously loud, you giggle softly as you admire him, recalling the events from last night. you grab your phone and tell your mother to bring eliana home.

30 minutes later your daughter is home, filled with joy and laughter knowing her dad is home. you're making pancakes, bacon and eggs when you hear eliana squeal with excitement before running up to gabriel "DADDY!!! YOURE HOME" she jumps into his arms kissing him on the cheek "hi cariño i missed you" he says gruffly peppering her little face in kisses causing her to giggle. you smile watching everything unfold in front of you, happy that your husband is home, making your family complete once again.

translations: mi reina - my queen, mi amor - my love, fóllame princesa, me perdí este coño - fuck me princess, I missed this pussy, mmm aún no he terminado - mmm im not done yet, cariño - dear/sweetheart.

[stuck-in-a-forest]

intro post

helo :3

my names:

if i don't tell you otherwise, just call me Shenanigan or Shen i suppose

but here is an updated list of other names I like atm: Bug Griffin

my pronouns:

pronouns page

they/them/any

(basically, im chill and ok with any pronouns but my favorites are they and them but please dont hesitate to use other pronouns including neos ^^)

my gender:

i use a variety of labels, but my main ones are defined below

nonbinary: not a boy/man, not a girl/woman

genderqueer: gender that doesn't conform to gender norms/gender roles

demifluix: gender where part of your gender stays static (the static part for me is just neutral/nonbinary) and the other part is both fluid (it changes) and fluctuating (it changes in intensity)

my sexuality/orientation:

romantic attraction: aroflux/arospike/aromantic/aegoromantic

sexual attraction: aegosexual/asexual

platonic attraction: aplatonic, aplflux, grayplatonic, quoiplatonic

familial attracrtion: quoiplatonic, afamilial, afamspec

aesthetic attraction: omniaesthetic (mayhaps)

alterhumanity:

im an alterhuman, the labels i use are:

nonmorph: somebody who is decidedly nonhuman but otherwise undefined

otherfix: somebody whose identity changes based on hyperfixations

neorudivergence (?):

basically everyone i know irl agrees that i must be neurodivergent somehow but i dont know how

i was diagnosed as a highly sensitive person awhile ago

probably have depression or something

autism? Maybe? Idk tho

current hyoerfixations/special interests:

-epic the musical -the Percy Jackson musical -Harry potter related content*

*consumed in a way that doesn’t benefit JKR in any way, shape, or form

fandoms:

arcane, hamilton, epic the musical, hilda, carmen sandiego, epic the musical, riordanverse, osmanverse, harry potter (fuck jkr tho)

random tidbits:

i use tone tags and emoticons to express my mood a lot :3

i appreciate asks and dms! i love them actually so don't be scared to send over an ask

i do rock climbing

i have 2 labrador retrievers

taglist (lmk if you want to be added or taken off):

@retic-pithon @zithergiltscorner @sage-way @ladyloss-blog @honee-bea @yams-and-toast @rins-batcave @ihavenothingoops @agathokakolog1cal @in-a-mello-mood @get-sh3rlock @beanthebugboi @raeprise @t0by-h @blizzardtheartisticfox @chaos-gremlin @teaktty @the-toaster-rat @sarkylittlemonster

tags:

#my zigzag child - interacting with @zithergiltscorner

#my super cool ex wife - interacting with @ladyloss-blog

#art in a forest - art tag

#shen writes - writing tag

#manifestation story - tag for the story im writing

#shens doggos - posting about my doggos

#shens doggos: buttercup - tag specifically for my black lab, buttercup

#shens doggos: ellie - tag specifically for my chocolate lab, ellie

#shens doggos: buttercup and ellie - tag for both of them

#today was a _ night - tag for my nightly reviews of my day/night

#shens names - posting about name stuff

#new name unlocked - tag for when I acquire a new name

#ze sensory cat hat - tag for posting about this one hat i really like

#shen rates stuff - tag for rating things, idk if this is gonna be a thing tho

#shens goodnight posts - tag for goodnight posts

#shen youre already writing a book stop writing more - tag for the other story im writing

#bug does theatre - tag for theatre related things

family tree:

(this isn't fully updated somebody made an updated version that i need to find)

some userboxes (made by me):

dividers by: @aquazero

[bestial-corruption]

⚠︎ The King of Corruption... ⚠︎

A name that suits this new form of mine.... Wouldn't you agree? I went from some USELESS, BROKEN man to something close to god... And I'll make sure all of you kneel before me.

⊘ Rules, mortal -> Those of you with filthy minds may ask stuff like that, but I can't say if I'll answer or not. -> Kindness is nothing here, but don't test the waters with me too much. -> Getting rid of you will be too easy [Blocking] -> I'll be back with more

-> Depression kicked in. New parody unlocked. Yippie!!!! Been considering making this for a while now... So here he is! The Mr. Doe himself :) -> HCs galore!!!! Just block and go about your day if you don't like how I play John Doe!!!! -> Themes of DEATH, CORRUPTION and BODY HORROR will be present on this blog. Don't like any of that? Please block and leave! -> IC answers will be in RED/YELLOW -> OOC answers will be COLORLESS -> HCs post here -> Tags/Threads -> Enjoy~

[coffeesleep-ooc]

pos canon bingqiu that die and lost most of their memories, except they transmigrate into the settings of Hua Cheng and Yin Yu

idk, i have many thoughts and little time, will def add to this

I donothave more time but i do brainrot. Im thinking, in this au, LQG or YQY could be QYZ

like, YQY would forgive everything and still keep looking for SQQ…but also mixed feelings anout it bc this SQQ is technically SY!SQQ!YY so…unless we apply the SY is SJ au here i feel guilty ;-;

i wa leaning more towards a LQG that arrived there when hr was looking for SQQ in his universe, and unlocked his memories when they ascended to godhood! But the tragedy of them is that, every time he tried to get close, YY|SQQ brushed him off, until everything exploded with the incident we all know about (when YY exploded at the worst possible time and ended ipcast away from heaven yes we know about that haha), LQG, just like QYZ, would be shocked but would know that those hurtful things he said and almost did are not his actual wishes or intentions, and that he is horrified of what he did. YY and SQQ both have the flight reaction to their own mistakes, and they pujish themselves for it.

also SQQ with a cursed shackle, living around with the weight of hurting his best friend and favorite shidi…meeting a kind ghost king that gives him work…and over time SQQ starts appreciating his new life, and starts ro admire this person that has worked so amazingly hard to build this city. And well, he is also devilishly handsome and open and affectionate with him and they end up entangled!

as for LBH|HC backstory? In this au he would pray to the defunct god of kindness Shen Qingqiu, who disappeared with his husband many years ago… he would be thankful to this au’s XL! Im thinking that it could be NYY reincarnated who has a soft spot for him bc she remembers bit can’t tell him(? God laws?? Idk), but anyways, he would find himself praying to SQQ over and over again and receiving barely a hint of a response, maybe a ‘????’ Or a ‘sleepy’ or something like that, like a broken phone connection. He survives to solve the puzzle of this, and creates this city in case his god is dead and a lost soul!

the problem is that LQG|QYZ, artives in ghost ciry and wants to take LBH’s moon officer back to heaven??? Hell no???? Either back off this cute obedient subordinate is mine, or stay here to make a trio, your choice martial god!

————-

Or alternatively!

LBH is Yin Yu. And SQQ is HC! ofc they don’t quite have a shizun-disciple relationship but also, SQQ being the kind of ghost king that just drifts through afterlife without even know why and repressing the hell out of his half-formed memories, only to find himself drawn to a pair of cute little mortal disciples that work very hard and are insufferable to each other! He really wants to mediate bc they are so! So!!! To each other!!!

Hc that BingLiu show all of their feelings fighting

SQQ is also there, smiling when they ascend. And LBH locks eyes with him in the crowd for a segond qnd then SQQ is gone, LBH tries to go back but never finds him.

And when HC!SQQ finds one of them lost and wandering the human realm after their ascension he takes the guy in, he is so depressed that SQQ cooks him and pats him and clothes him.

LBH falls in love. Even if the food is disgusting.

And again, QYZ!LQG regains his memories after godhood and searches for his wayward shixiong/shizhi (and isn’t that weird for him? Well, he doesn’t actually care) and finds SQQ in the process…

[liesmyth]

Seeing Jesus/Judas Alpha Omega discourse makes the theater kid who sat through her teacher talking about his favorite musicals return

So I need to say "Jesus Christ Superstar is ambigiously gay as fuck, to the point that every new version gets slightly gayer", and Judas in that is almost canonly a bratty top

The 2000 movie he basically makes out with Jesus for the kiss, and spends most of it dressed like a middle aged depressed biker guy. Also the last suppers hilarious because Judas spends the whole time so mad at Jesus he threatens to not turn Jesus into the authorities, because he doesnt want to do what hes told

This unlocked a memory... I watched the 2000 movie at a formative age and I was NOT expecting it to be that gay. Holy shit

[s-4pphics]

let the rain sing. interlude (a.a)

wc;cw: 6k, dadsbestfriend!abby, lawstudent!oc, large age gap (oc is 25, abby is mid 40s), abby is bi<3, fluff, HEAVY ANGST ANGST ANGST!!, childbirth, vomiting, blood, brief mentions of abortion, descriptions of insomnia, alcoholism, familial death, heavy descriptions of grief (depression, dissociation, anger), suicidal ideation, funerals & hospitals

Abby was conflicted when she found out she was pregnant. 

She was ecstatic to start her term at Harvard Law due to some internship offers she received, but her excitement swiftly dissipated when waves of nausea started to overtake her. 

She wasn’t concerned with the feeling at first. The fall term was always the most unpredictable for weather, and she assumed it was just the flu that often went around. Humiliation rushed through her when another wave hit during her sociology course, rushing out into the hallway to bend over the nearest trash, vomiting up her favorite brown sugar oatmeal from that morning. 

She decided to see a doctor three days later when the sickness continued. She couldn’t get her test results the same day due to her hectic schedule and exhaustion from studying, so she opted to request them in the mail, despite her gynecologist’s urgency. 

When she received her results two days later, her heart sank. 

She paced around the small living room of her boyfriend’s apartment with anxiety in her gut and love in her heart. She’d been in complete disbelief, crumpling the urine test in her hands and throwing them onto the coffee table. 

Her mind was racing a million miles per minute: How was she going to explain to her boyfriend—her parents— that she would be keeping her child no matter what? Her parents promised to be supportive of her if she stayed in school, but she was almost positive that they would disapprove of her baby. She didn’t care if they supported her or not, but she didn’t want to raise her children in an unstable environment. She wanted to give them the best of everything, of herself, but she couldn’t do that then. Her boyfriend had already been working like a dog to keep this place afloat, and a baby would be a burden for both of them.

But she knew she wanted to be a mother when she was young. She had a large family, but she always gravitated towards her younger relatives due to their liveliness. They made her feel joy that she knew she missed out on growing up, so she lived through them. They revived her in a sense. The circumstances were different in her mind when she envisioned herself as a parent: she was older, successful, married to the love of her life, and not regretting any of her decisions. She would’ve been happy. Excited and thankful for the blessing she believed kids to be. 

Seeing the news terrified her and almost sent her spiraling into panic; She was only twenty-three! 

She loved children. They always flocked to her when she was growing up, whether it be her younger siblings, cousins, nieces and nephews, or random people’s toddlers in grocery stores garbling at her from their cart seat. She never felt annoyed towards her younger family members. She always held them tight so they knew how much she loved them, no matter how much they got on her fucking nerves sometimes. 

What teenager volunteers to babysit her big sister’s toddlers on the weekends? 

… Abigail. 

She was a nervous wreck while she waited for her boyfriend to come home from work. She’d been sobbing for hours, but she managed to calm herself down by staring at her frantic form in the bathroom mirror. 

She couldn’t think straight with the pounding in her head, nervously bouncing her leg as she sat on the couch as she bit her nails.

And then their front door unlocked. 

Abby… oh my god… I’m—

We’re pregnant? Oh my fucking god, we’re pregnant! 

We’re having a baby?! I’m gonna be a dad! 

Abby was not expecting her boyfriend to drop the wrinkly papers and lift her into the air in a heap of excitement, drowning her in tight grasps and kisses to her mouth and cheek. She cried harder; His joy was so comforting. 

She wasn’t going to be alone during her pregnancy, and she was grateful. 

Abby dropped out of Harvard three months into her pregnancy. 

Her and her newfound husband eloped at their town’s small lake at the end of his third year at law school, and they moved in together shortly after so she didn’t have to move around as much. She knew carrying was difficult, but her hair was falling out and she sobbed whenever her husband asked her what she wanted for dinner. 

You’re so sweet! I can’t help it, okay?! Leave me alone!

She and her husband were left to fend for themselves during her first trimester. 

Her parents did not take kindly to her pregnancy announcement. She was always super close with her parents growing up despite their overprotective nature, and she hardly ever fought with them. Whenever they expressed their disapproval of her decisions, she bowed her head and left without rebuttal. 

She expected the worst when she and her husband invited them over for dinner to announce it to them properly, and that’s exactly what she got. 

Abigail… Are you fucking kidding me!

What the hell is a child going to do for you right now?

Do you understand how much you’re giving up? You have so much to lose!

You’re cut off unless you… handle that!

Her husband took over the conversation with a sharp, defensive tongue since the pounding of her head made her shut down. She was so fucking nauseas at their suggestions. She did consider an abortion a couple of weeks into her pregnancy, but the way her parents talked down about her future baby broke her heart and pissed her off. 

Her husband's booming shouts at her parents would have triggered her defense for them under any other circumstances, but she only felt protected as he told them to fuck off! She knew she was loved by him to an infinite degree. Appreciation for her husband bloomed inside of her like roses.

Her parents left with a loud slam of their front door, and her husband held her as she sobbed at the table. 

The food he prepared for everyone ran cold. Neither of them could stomach anything for the next few days. 

Abby’s third trimester was the most difficult, for both her and her husband. 

She never experienced this much pain in her life. 

She was six months along, and it really took a toll on her body. Her ankles were swollen, her ligaments were aching, and her joints would not stop popping whenever she moved around the tiny one-bedroom apartment. Her hair loss made her too anxious to leave the house, and she hated how superficial she felt whenever she would weep because of it when her husband was at work. At least her nausea subsided. 

She hated looking at herself in the mirror: her under eyes were dark and droopy, small bald spots littered behind her hairline, dark patches littered her skin. She looked fifty years older, and she hated it. 

But her husband never failed to kiss away her insecurities. Appreciate them. Drown them in affection no matter how much she cried about hating herself. 

He worked so hard for them to stay afloat: two jobs while keeping up with his course and nearly drowning in his studies. He suffered some pushback due to the transition from a full to part-time student, but he was doing his best to finish as quickly as possible. 

Abby cried every night as his exhausted form slept next to her. 

She felt so… useless. She watched her husband bust his ass, get fired from previous jobs, get turned down from decent-paying jobs, and she couldn’t help but feel responsible for his weariness. He looked just as worn as she did, and she loathed herself for putting all of this responsibility on him. 

He never complained, though. He would come home with takeout, kiss her head, tell her how much he loved her and how all of this would be worth it. 

Was the decision to keep her baby selfish? 

She didn’t know at that time. 

Abby had a premature birth. 

She’d finally gathered the courage to go shopping with her husband for decorations for the nursery, but the trip was cut short when she began having contractions in the middle of the toy aisle. 

They awoke her earlier that day: the cramps always brought her discomfort, but she noticed that the intensity was different. They shot through her much more harshly than they should’ve, but they eventually stopped, so she paid them no mind. 

Until she was hunched over the stocked shelves as her husband tried to get her into the nearest empty seat. 

She breathed out harsh cries of the baby, my baby as her husband frantically dialed for an ambulance despite her protests. The pain she felt burned whenever it flashed through her lower body, a constant push downward, and she knew something was wrong.

Her mind was racing as anxiety rushed through her body; she thought back to her frequent hospital visit. She knew a premature birth would be a possibility due to some complications with her cervix, but it was still early. She’d just reached the seven-month period, for fucks sake!

She could barely make it outside when the ambulance arrived, her vision foggy and she couldn’t stop sobbing, the paramedics’ voices sounding like bleating alarms in her ears whenever they attempted to calm her. She couldn’t bring herself to care about anything as she came in and out of consciousness, the only thing on her mind being the image of her happily crying husband holding their newborn for the first time. 

Please let my baby be okay, please, please, please—

Abby couldn’t stop sobbing. She never thought that conceiving would cause a stabbing pain in her heart. 

She went hysterical when she overheard that her baby wasn’t breathing, her heart rate monitor going out of whack as her lungs burned from her ragged breaths. Her husband tried to calm her down with his soft touches and words, but it only made her cry harder. She needed to hold her baby!

Her labor had already been nerve-racking, full of uncertainty and left her and her husband panic stricken for hours despite the doctors’ instructions to keep calm. When her infant was rushed into another room, her husband, and other doctors had to pin her down to keep her from thrashing from panic in her hospital bed. 

She didn’t stop until another doctor returned and told her husband that their daughter would be closely monitored while on ventilation for the rest of the week.

Please, can I see my baby? Please, please?—

But her cries were gently denied due to their infant’s extremely fragile state. They tried to comfort her as much as they could, but none of their soft words, husband’s cuddles and meals, or warm, fuzzy socks soothed her. 

She and her husband were released days later with an empty car-seat filled with stuffed animals and a pacifier. 

Their hearts were vacant. 

Their home was soulless for two weeks. 

No baby crying, no diaper changing, no breastfeeding. They didn’t even have the heart to finish decorating for the nursery. 

Abby watched her husband move on autopilot, waking up, going to work, going to class, and struggling to sleep. His insomnia had increased drastically ever since she gave birth, heavy bags forming under his eyes as he launched himself into his notetaking in the middle of the night. His desk was swamped with hefty books and sloppily stacked paper, murmuring to himself so he could memorize the necessary vocabulary. 

She was overcome with failure and nearly drowned in self-loathing. Failure as a wife, as a parent. She couldn’t protect and care for her baby how she wanted, and guilt rested heavily with intent to crush her. 

They both couldn’t speak, only whispering soft I love you so much before she slipped off into dreamland, her subconscious terrorized with images of her smiling baby girl who she prayed to see soon. 

When Abby’s husband got the call from their daughter’s doctor, they both rushed to the hospital. 

Abby’s raging nausea was quickly soothed by the doctor’s delighted face upon their arrival before ushering them to his office. 

I’m excited to tell you two that your daughter’s stable! She’s quite small, but she’s healthy! We do have some extra caretaking rules—

They could barely understand the doctor’s rambling due to their excitement of seeing their newborn for the first time. The doctor handed her husband paperwork before leading them down the long hallway. They nearly toppled over each other as they followed the doctor, bursting into the room that held newborns and other premature infants. 

They followed the doctor to their child’s incubator, and immediately burst into tears at the sight of their little—very little—angel. 

She was wrapped in an oversized onesie and booties that nearly slipped off her tiny feet. That was the first time they both saw her eyes open, and they couldn’t control their emotions as they sobbed from pure joy. 

They were so eager to hear the news from the doctor that Abby’s husband left the car seat in the vehicle. He probably looked crazy as he sobbingly retreated to the car with a strong love in his heart. 

Abby was first to hold their baby. She took note of the pediatrician’s instructions when wrapping her in blankets whenever her feet felt cold. 

When she felt the light weight of her child in her arms, she felt the purest form of love explode in her chest. She didn’t know how long she’d been crying and cooing at the bundle of joy, inhaling her scent in the crook of her neck, but she never wanted that feeling to dissipate. 

When her husband returned with the car seat and small bag, he kissed his daughter’s head so lightly. She cooed at him, and he and Abby squealed as the doctors giggled. 

They finally had their baby Mya in their grasp, and they left with light searing in their hearts. 

Their first few months with a newborn were rough. 

Loud crying. Dirty diapers. Frantic schedules. No fucking rest for either of them. But they both knew they wouldn’t trade the chaos of their small home for anything. It was all worth it when Mya kicked her feet when she looked at the twinkly star stickers on the ceiling before bed and garbled at the two of them. 

Abby never thought breastfeeding would be as taxing as it was. She woke up to her breasts feeling like rocks, their child’s cries wracking through the nursery. At least her hair started to grow back. 

Her husband was always awake in the wee hours of the morning, dragging himself into Mya’s small nursery like a zombie to feed and nuzzle her. Abby loved walking in on the two of them sleeping whenever she finished pumping, Mya pulled close to her father’s chest. 

The sight of their synced breaths always calmed her; She fell asleep with ease knowing they were together.

Toddlers were… interesting. 

Abby, in all her years of being surrounded by children, never witnessed a toddler reenact fish… noises? Since when did fish make noise?

Abby’s husband mistakenly left Animal Plant playing on their television while he snored on the couch with books on his chest and lap, and Abby drowsily entered the living room to shut off the loud narrations about extinction. 

Only to catch their baby girl bouncing up and down on the cushion next to her slumped dad, puffing her cheeks together and making quiet blubblubblub noises, just like the intensified audio from the television. 

She tried to regret teaching her baby how to take her first steps and get out of her crib on her own, but the sight made her heart brighten as she smiled to herself. 

She eased towards the couch, taking a seat next to an excited Mya as she watched the aquatic life interact with each other. Her smile widened at the sight of her mom, her tiny, stubby finger coming up towards her lips while she pointed towards her dad. Abby grinned and nodded with her, filling her cheeks with air like she saw her child do before she interrupted. Mya laughed quietly and copied her mom. 

She promised to scold her for being up way past her bedtime later. 

Mya fell asleep on Abby’s chest as she listened to the sound of the ocean. 

Mya had just turned four when Abby received a call from her mother. 

She hadn’t heard from her parents in years, and frankly, she didn’t want to. She could tell that her husband was a bit hurt that they didn’t congratulate him for receiving his law degree, but he was able to let it go, especially since his baby girl gave him the fattest kiss on the cheek in a small celebration.  

… Hi, honey. I know it’s been a while since, uh… since we’ve talked but… I just wanted to say I love you… and tell my granddaughter I said happy birthday… We love you all very much. I hope we can all meet again soon. Bye.

The voicemail made her eyes burn with sadness. Then anger, then love. She missed her parents immensely, but she would never be able to forget how they reacted to her pregnancy. Mya quickly became her source of happiness the second she was born, and she couldn’t imagine what her life would be if she never had her baby. 

She knew she would have to reconnect with her family at some point, but Mya would always come first. If her parents were to ever make Mya feel like her future was ruined because of her, Abby would be fine with never speaking to them again, no matter how much it would hurt. 

Abby jumped when she felt two small hands grab the fat on her wet cheeks, pressing slobbery kisses to both. 

Don’t cry, mommy! S’gonna be okay! I love you!

Abby shouldn’t have cried harder, but she did, choking out a sob as she tried to smile for her daughter. 

I know, baby. I love you so much. Everything’s gonna be fine. 

She hoped—prayed her daughter was right.

Abby and her small family’s lives changed so much in just a few months. 

Her husband found a stable job as a document clerk at a law firm, and they were able to move out of his dingy apartment into a decent one story after some months. It wasn’t anything extravagant, but they were happy. 

The bags under her husband's eyes have lessened in shade ever since his graduation. He also gathered time to eat with her at their small dining table instead of eating at his computer desk alone. They were finally comfortable. 

They bought Mya anything she wanted to make up for her disappointing birthday parties. 

Abby took note of her daughter's love for water. 

She always used to play various audios of rainfall and ocean waves for a sleepy Mya until she was two, but she didn’t expect the soothing technique to explode into her four-year-old playing in puddles and obsessively watching the rain through the glass backdoor. 

She watched Mya sit and stare out the wet windows, quietly humming lullabies to herself until she slipped into rest, gently snoring against the couch cushions. Abby never took kindly to Spring due to her allergies, but she was happy her baby found comfort in it. 

She told her husband about their daughter’s new habit when he returned from work one day, and he thought it was the most precious thing in the world. He wished he could’ve been present to see it. 

Maybe she wants to be a fish! We should take her to the lake one day. 

Abby scheduled swimming lessons for Mya that very next week. 

It was confirmed. Mya was a mermaid in her past life. 

She was a bit intimidated by the large pool when they arrived for her first lesson, but after a few sessions with her swim teacher, she stubbornly protested wearing her purple and blue floaties. 

C’mon, honey! Put your arm through so we can go swimming! 

No, mommy, no! 

She felt a bit of jealousy build in her gut when her daughter’s swim teacher gently pulled her stubby arms and legs into the little floaties without fail. She could hear Mya’s joyous giggle as she slapped the water around, practicing her paddling with her instructor’s support. 

Abby begrudgingly ate her Cheetos with a pout on her face from the poolside chair. 

Mya was five when she met her extended family for the first time. 

Her birthday had just passed, and Abby’s mom rang her line, inviting her family over for a small dinner. C’mon, sweetie! I just wanna see my granddaughter! 

Abby was not surprised when the “small dinner” turned out to be a full-fledged surprise party for Mya: balloons everywhere, a large cake with a Barbie doll in the middle, all her cousins, aunts, and uncles jumping with party hats. 

Mya was more than giddy at the sight, squealing and running over to the only auntie she knew, but Abby and her husband were a bit skeptical. It’d been a long while since they’d been in this environment, and they were very uneasy. But their little angel was so happy, so they pushed their edginess to the side. For her. 

The party went smoothly for the most part, despite their initial feelings, but Abby and her parents did get into a small scuffle in the backyard. It took everything not to snatch the icing-littered fork from Mya’s hand and make their exit. 

You have to understand where I’m coming from! Imagine if someone you loved told you to get rid of your kids when you were pregnant! Would you not feel disappointed?

I wouldn’t! I would understand that they had my best interest in mind, regardless of the situation! 

… I can’t believe the both of you. You’re really gonna stand by that? On her fucking birthday?

Abby’s husband politely thanked everyone for the gifts and food, but he knew it was time to go by the tense expression on his wife’s face. She thanked him for his intuition every day; She was about to cause a wreckage on that patio. 

He picked up his tired baby girl from her resting spot on the couch, grabbed his keys, and ushered his wife out the door without another word. 

Abby silently cried the entire ride home, her husband's hand enclosed tightly around hers, resting in her lap. 

Abby and her husband decided to take Mya to the lake where they got married for her seventh birthday. 

She could finally swim without assistance, and they wanted her to live out her mermaid fantasy. 

They made an entire weekend out of it: kayaking, fishing, wakeboarding. Mya looked so happy the entire time, completely engulfed with her love for nature. They'd never seen her so explorative; She wanted to see everything the trip had to offer. Including the sunset at the highest point of the hiking trail. 

Honey, we’re getting old! We can’t run that fast anymore! 

Hurry up, lugs! We have to make it to the top before the sun sets! C’mon!

Before they left the campgrounds, Abby shoved her camera into her husband’s hands, tossing all her bags to the floor and pulling her daughter up onto her back, listening to her laugh as she yelled at her husband to take a picture of them in front of her favorite place. 

How the hell do you use this, Abby?!

Just take the damn picture before I fall!

The swear jar is gonna be filled before we leave! Stop cursing, old heads! 

Okay, 1, 2, 3! Say cheese!

Abby and her daughter squealed as the camera flashed in front of them, the grounds filled with the family’s joyous laughter. 

Abby noticed changes in her husband’s behavior. 

He came home from work smelling of liquor, and their cabinets were becoming stocked with tequila and aged bottles of wine. At first, she assumed he was just going out with his work friends after his shift, but when he jokingly expressed to her that he needed liquor to sleep one morning, she grew concerned. Her husband developed sleeping problems years ago, but he never went into detail about it. She felt so guilty. 

When Abby gently expressed her worries to him one night before bed, he blew up on her. It was the first time they ever fought. Ever. 

I’m fucking stressed, Abigail! I have so much to take care of and I’m not getting any fucking help from you! I can’t fucking sleep anymore! 

Do you know how many times I begged you to let me fucking work! You always said no because of Mya! And keep your fucking voice down, my daughter’s sleeping!

Oh, now she’s your daughter?! Really? 

Her husband went to sleep on the couch that night while Abby quietly sobbed as she checked on her daughter, relieved at her snoring, unmoving form. She didn’t need to hear any of that. 

She cried herself to sleep. 

She woke up to the smell of sweetness and coffee. She drowsily rubbed her eyes and entered the kitchen, her husband already sat and sipping his coffee, looking just as exhausted as she felt. 

They ate their breakfast in silence before her husband broke it, tearfully mumbling out his apologies. 

You and Mya are my life. I love you both so much. I’m gonna get help, I swear. I hate feeling like this. 

Abby trusted him; He had her full support. 

Mya loved riding her new, pink bike in the rain. 

The streets were empty and quiet when it poured heavily, and the vacant roads made for a great practice track. Her father gifted her a tricycle for her eighth birthday, and she couldn’t separate from it. She rode it up and down the street for hours, only to run inside with her clothes completely drenched, change into dry ones, and run back outside and hop onto her new ride. 

She begged her mom to buy her an actual bicycle because she felt like she was ready for one, and she gave in to her daughter’s pouty face. She couldn’t deny her; she was too cute! 

After many scraped knees and elbows, she was gliding through the streets on her two-wheeler with ease through the rain. She was happy, so Abby was too. 

Her husband returned to his normal behavior a year later. 

The cabinets and garbage cans were no longer stocked with bottles, and he didn’t smell of Tequila anymore. It was relieving, and she was so proud. 

When Abby’s husband asked her on a date, her heart pounded against her chest like she was about to have her first kiss again. 

She came home from shopping, dripping wet from the heavy rain, to a bouquet of flowers and a sloppily written note, dotted with hearts and little sparkles. 

Taking Mya to see Ross’s daughter. Picking you up at 7:30. I love you. 

Hubby. 

Abby rang her sister as she bolted up the stairs with a wide grin on her face. 

She finally had an excuse to wear her fancy, rosy-red dress!

Abby grew nervous when her husband hadn’t answered the phone. Four times in a fucking row. 

They were already a half hour late for their reservation, and Abby’s sister and youngest nephew were patiently waiting for her husband and Mya to walk through the front door. 

She bit and picked the rosy polish off her nails despite her sister’s protests. 

Girl, they’re fine! Probably just traffic, it’s pouring! Be patient for once before you sweat your make-up off. 

Abby knew her sister was right, but she couldn’t ignore the feeling of unease in her gut. Her husband was a lot of things, but he was never late, especially without warning. Something didn’t feel right. 

She never considered herself superstitious, but she felt the loud rumbles of thunder were confirmations of her suspicions.

An hour passed, and Abby couldn’t breathe. 

When her husband’s bone-shattering, slurry cries rang through her speaker, terror shook through her body like the lightning bolts that shone behind the clouds. She was instantly panic-stricken, trying to make out the words that vibrated her ears. 

She looked at her sister with fear and confusion before the words Mya… hit… car… bike tore through the line like a knife, piercing her in her chest with intent to kill. 

She couldn’t breathe or think, and her phone dropped from her hands before the world around her went dark. 

Abby looked down at her drunk husband as he crouched on the slippery, black pavement, grabbing at her ankles, and sounding like he would cough his lungs up as he cried her name, wailing out apologies. 

She doesn’t know how she got to her mutual friend’s neighborhood, or why her husband's cries were gut-wrenching, or why she was sitting in the back of an ambulance with the oxygen mask still strapped around her head. 

… Why wasn’t Mya sitting next to her, holding her hand, and telling her everything was going to be okay? 

Her sister and nephew were sobbing as a police officer explained the events of the scene, but Abby couldn’t hear anything. She refused to hear the poisonous words they spewed at her about their child. All she had to do was wait for her baby girl to run up and whine about how much she missed her. 

She would come. She thought. She would. She would. She would. 

… Hit and run… We’re so sorry… loss. 

Abby shook her head and her nails dug into her palms.

She would come. Her baby would come. She loved the rain too much; She would never miss a thunder show. She would come. 

The blaring rumbles that rang through the sky confirmed it. Her baby would come. The universe believed it, so she had to. 

Abby looked up from the broken man in front of her and caught a glimpse of the mangled, pink bicycle and stretcher that was draped in a white sheet, surrounded by people dressed in black coats and badges with their heads bowed. The outline of the body underneath the pale, red-speckled covering was small, unmoving… Looked too much like—

Her head dropped right back to her choking husband. 

No, no, no! She would come, she would come, she would come—

An hour passed, and the rain stopped. 

Mya never came. Abby couldn’t stop screaming. 

Abby hated hospitals. 

The paramedics were fearful of leaving her and her husband alone in their hysteria, suggesting to detectives that they should return to the hospital until they were stable. 

She never thought she would distance herself from her husband; She even shocked herself when she harshly shoved him away from her when he reached for a hug. His devastated expression tore her heart to shreds, but she couldn’t look at him, hold him, bear to smell the alcohol that masked the formerly comforting scent of his cologne. Not at that moment. 

They were placed in separate rooms for the night, and Abby wanted to die. 

She heard the broken hollers and whimpers of her parents and siblings out in the hallway as the doctors explained the situation. She felt like she would suffocate if she stayed trapped in this bed any longer. 

Everything’s fine. Everything’s fine, everything’s fine—

Her brain’s chants were paused by her screeching sobs as her eyes squeezed shut, bile creeping up her throat despite her attempts to swallow. Her throat was dry, and each choking gulp felt like shards of glass that sliced through her esophagus, all the way down to her stomach. She couldn’t fucking breathe. 

She heard the heart rate monitor increase in beeps beside her as she wailed, a few nurses urgently reentering the room to try and calm her down. She felt like her throat was bleeding with each shout of her daughter’s name. 

Mya was dead, and she desperately wanted to join her, souls entangled for eternity. 

Three days passed. Abby hated the world. 

Her and her husband sat in his parked car in front of their home, staring straight ahead as rain poured from the sky. 

They said nothing to each other; they hadn’t even looked in each other’s direction since they left the hospital. 

Abby felt tears jerk in her dry, lifeless eyes, allowing them to stream down her face, matching the pace of the heavy droplets that hit the window. She thought that she was hallucinating; She could almost hear her daughter’s cheerful laugh coming from outside.

She slowly turned her head towards their home, and bile rose her throat at the sight of her daughter’s discarded, pink tricycle that lay flat on the porch. She hadn’t touched it in a while, thanks to her new bike. 

She opened the passenger door and threw up on the side of the road as her husband sobbed next to her. 

She wanted to die and, deep in her empty gut, she knew he desired the same. 

Abby looked in the mirror of her parent’s guest room, completely still.

She was draped in all black from head to toe, wearing her daughter’s black bow at the end of her braid. She regretted putting on makeup; her mascara was already streaming down her face in wet, black lines. 

Her under eyes were dark and her vessels were busted from crying for a week and a half straight. She doesn’t remember the last time she slept or eaten, and she didn’t want to. Every dream she had was filled with her daughter’s laughter, and she couldn’t stomach anything thinking about the angelic sound. 

Her husband stood in the doorframe, just as visibly destroyed as she was. Just as lifeless. 

They exchanged looks, but neither said a word. They hadn’t spoken to each other in days. Abby had nothing to say to him. 

He was the reason they were burying their daughter, and she despised him for it. The mourning she felt for her child was stronger than her love for him, and she didn’t care how selfish it was. 

The rain was beating down on the black umbrella that draped over Abby’s sobbing, hunched form, her nails digging into the sopping dirt and tearing at the grass. Her mother’s dress was covered in wet stains. 

Her wails and pleas for her child back were painful and loud: she felt caressing hands on her back, and it took everything not to slap them away. 

She didn’t need fucking comfort! She needed her daughter! Her precious, innocent, darling daughter, Mya. She would’ve given anything—given her life up for her baby. She deserved to live, to see the ocean, to become the mermaid she always wanted to be. She hated her fucking husband. 

The sight of her daughter’s casket being lowered into the ground felt like a sharp blade in her chest. Her father and husband had to drag her from the ground and to her feet despite her desperate shouts to join Mya in the dirt. 

When she was placed in her parent’s backseat, she clutched the passenger headrest in front of her to center herself. Her nails tore through the leather as she hyperventilated, small whimpers of her daughter’s name leaving her mouth. She felt like she would vomit again. 

The car was filled with her family’s cries as the clouds poured their sorrow onto the car. 

Abby quietly prayed to herself as her distraught mother drove them all back home, hoping that her daughter’s spirit would grow to be as large as the sea. 

Just like she always wanted. 

──────────────────────────────────────────

grief fucking sucks lol

this was heavy 4 me. i love yall

taggie waggies :3 @ohlawdthebirds @fibrogirlie @unangelic-thoughts @chrry1ovr @uraesthete @gravygranules @digit4lslut @machetegirl109 @letsreadsomesins-shallwe @macaroni676 @sillygooselit @nil-eena @elliesgirlll @hi2647 @fr0thycoffee @mai5mai @sweet-lover-girl

prologue. part one. part two. part three. part four.

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[squizstew]

NEW HYPERFIXATION UNLOCKED 🔥🔥🔥

Okay okay I know this musical has been on a rampage lately (especially in America) but I’m just so in love with this musical.

Now that I’ve listened to the entire 1998 Broadway soundtrack a total of three times, I can 100% understand how people are pissed about people romanticizing this musical. It’s mind boggling how someone could love this for the aesthetic, because the topic is quite scary and proof how history is a cycle.

I think I love this musical so much not just because of how fucking amazing the music is, but how i find it to be a coping mechanism due to the current political climate basically everywhere. It’s such a cautionary tale, and it captures the topic in such an amazing way. When you think it’s just a safe song it’s a sudden boom and realization of “oh shit”.

I’ve kinda been just ranting on about this musical but lots of people probably have no clue what I’m on about so I’ll explain the plot:

Basically, an American writer named Cliffford Bradshaw stumbles into the Kit Kat Klub in Berlin, Germany while looking for inspiration for his novel during post WW1 (1929-1930). Of course at that time, the Nazis are coming into power due to Germany being in significant financial debt and in the midst of a depression which is the most significant part of the story. There, he sees “the master of ceremonies” (or the host of the club), Emcee who’s quite quirky and strange, but has his moments of seriousness which is always a punch in the gut.

He meets Sally Bowls, and English girl who’s a very talented performer at the club. There, they form a romantic relationship. During the musical, the tone shifts from exciting and romantic to violent, as he learns that his first friend in Germany is an up and coming Nazi member, and an old lady and her fiancé become victims of an anti-Semitic hate crime.

Sally becomes pregnant, Cliff tries to convince Sally to come to America with him but she gets an abortion and encourages him to leave while she stays and abandons her chance to leave pre-WW2 Germany. She kinda realizes this and the second to last song “Cabaret” is her basically having a manic breakdown. At the end of the musical, Cliff leaves Germany, telling (what I think is probably a, like, helper of sorts for trains) that it isn’t very likely he will return.

Emcee, who throughout the entire musical is quite a bit more important than I’ve described him as, is transported to a concentration camp, where he kills himself by jumping into an electrical fence, which is represented at the end of the musical. At the end of the stage performance, he slowly (and suggestively in Emcee fashion) takes off his trench coat.

People probably expect something very different, but when he takes off his trench coat completely, he has a concentration camp uniform, with a yellow star (the badge for Jewish people), a pink triangle (the badge for homosexual men), and i think a red star or triangle which is supposed to be the badge for political enemy, if I’m correct. That’s when he sings his last lines, and the musical ends.

This musical made me feel things. It made me realize so many things. People who are most likely to become victims of these types of things are the people who are most likely to ignore or even support them. It’s a cautionary tale of the uprising of fascism, and how to avoid falling for it before it’s too late. I find it very scary that this musical is prominent now. Like I said in the beginning of this post, it shows how we love to repeat history.

I would say I’m sorry for my rant, but I am not at all sorry for it. Thanks for reading this all the way if you have. Consider listening to it in its entirety. It’s a great musical and people can benefit from learning from it.

[zelbits]

Prologue: The Cycle Must End

Rating: M at its worst, I'm trying to keep it T. Depictions of gore, violence, themes of depression, war, battles, and some steamy scenes later on but nothing outright spicy, some strong language but nothing too explicit

Summary: One year after the events of Tears of the Kingdom, a mysterious man by the name of Sheik shows up on Link's doorstep telling him of a new incarnation of Ganondorf-- a once-great man being transformed into a wicked warlord in present time. Unwilling to allow the cycle to continue if he can stop it, Link recruits Zelda's head researcher and caretaker Asahi, a Sheikah warrior, to their cause. On the first leg of their journey, they are ambushed by bokoblins led by a shadow version of Link, who can match his every move. His knowledge too great to simply allow him to leave or end him, they decide to bring him along and limit his power with the use of Sheik's magic. Despite the warnings, Asahi and "Dark Link" find themselves drawn to one another. Unbeknownst to Asahi, her closeness to the shadow brings out a side she never knew she had, a side which may reveal that she's more than just the caretaker of the princess. For Dark Link, their growing bond may ruin his hidden agenda, the very reason for his existence. As far as Sheik is concerned, their relationship may spell the destruction of the entire quest, which may have been doomed from the start: After all, in order to stop the Curse of Demise, they need more than one incarnation of the Triforce and a weapon that never existed.

TL;DR: Link decides to put an end to the Curse of Demise with the help of a strange time-traveler Sheik, his best friend Asahi and a shadow-version of himself; Asahi and the Shadow are growing dangerously close while unlocking secrets that could end their quest to find a weapon to end the Curse.

Trigger Warnings: PTSD, gore, violence, mild steam, angst, forbidden/taboo love, enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, probably more I haven't thought of yet.

Word Count: Unsure

A/N: Asahi's appearance and name are loosely based off of Asahi from The Water Dragon's Bride, my favorite manga (besides Zelda, ofc). I've had this story in my head for a very, very, very long time and I'm really excited to finally be putting it out there, even if it's not in the comic form that I had originally wanted to do.

Media: Written for now, with some art and hopefully redrawn in manga form later on when I learn how to do it well.

Releases: Monthly, if possible. I work full-time and am in the midst of preparing for college, so I'll try to release chapters every other weekend alongside my usual content.

Anytime you see an embedded link (pun intended), it leads to related soundtrack.

The sky was a deep, soft orange when Link stepped out in the morning.

Sunrise was always his favorite time of day. It reminded him of peaceful mornings spent with Zelda before... everything. He stretched his arms over his head until his spine popped before he let them fall to his sides. Ruffling his hands through his long hair, he pulled out the tangles, enjoying the sensation of the dewy grass underfoot as he walked to the pond behind the house.

The little spring was warm compared to the chilly morning air, and as Link washed his hair and soaked in the early morning sunlight, his mind wandered.

It had been a long, difficult year, especially for Zelda. He was still getting used to his new arm, and sometimes he still got confused when he looked down and saw fur and claws, or when he felt phantom pains from an arm long gone. He was also still trying to process that he'd had to save Hyrule not once, but twice. He wondered if any of the other past heroes had slept for 100 years, defeated an eldritch abomination, then did it again barely seven years later. A bitter smirk played on his face before he dunked beneath the water.

But Zelda, gods, poor Zelda. She wasn't herself even now. After so long of being a dragon, she had lost much of who she once was. She complained of feeling her body dying, and of missing something. He would catch her staring at the sky for hours with an emotionless expression on her face. Not even researching interested her anymore, not for long. Sometimes something small would spark excitement, but it rarely lasted more than an hour.

In her dreamlike, catatonic state, she was in absolutely no place to run their kingdom, and neither was he. He needed to care for her 24/7, and he would. He appointed Purah and Paya to look after their affairs, trusting them enough to form a responsible council and make good decisions. So far, he hadn't had any complaints about the way they ran things; Hyrule was peaceful.

Not only were they reliable enough to run the country, but they had also appointed Link some much-needed help that he was too prideful to ask for. A young Sheikah girl had been assigned to help Link care for Zelda, and thankfully they had all been friends long before that fateful night. Asahi was probably the one person from the modern age that Zelda had been friends with, having met on an expedition three years prior to the Upheaval. An expert on Hyrulean history, her knowledge had been a great help to him during the whole ordeal, although he'd refused every attempt of hers to join him. He didn't want her to get hurt.

A bright, lovely young woman with deep red hair with black ends, and golden eyes, she looked nothing like the Sheikah; even her attire was different. Unsatisfied with the typical whites, reds, and beiges of Sheikah wear, Asahi wore deep mauves, reds, and browns. Purah told him that she had been adopted by a Sheikah couple who couldn't have children, and that she had been in an orphanage until she was three. The reclusive tribe never treated her any differently, however. Asahi was a capable warrior as well as a scholar, her knowledge on par with what Zelda's would have been if she were back to her old self.

Asahi's presence, teachings, and therapeutic sessions had certainly helped Zelda to cope. She smiled a bit more now.

Link left the bath, allowing his body to air-dry as he went back inside. He didn't have much planned for today. Besides some menial work in the gardens and cleaning the tack for their horses, Link had nothing to do but spend time with Zelda, which gave Asahi a much-needed day off. He glanced out his windows at the Bolson houses across the bridge. The smaller one, on the right from where he was standing, was Asahi's. Her lights were off, and he saw no movement; he chuckled a bit. She must be sleeping in.

Like someone else he knew. Turning around, Zelda was fast sleep in the bed, in her cozy pajamas and snoring ever so softly-- although she would vehemently deny that if he ever had the audacity to bring it up to her. Link dressed in some comfortable clothes and gave Zelda a kiss on the cheek before heading back downstairs.

Outside, it was already warming up. Summer in Hateno was still chilly thanks to the breeze from the frozen Lanayru mountains, but it was decent today. Link paused in the doorway and smiled in the sunlight, enjoying the sensation of the warmth on his skin. The sound of commotion across the bridge drew his attention to the Hateno children recklessly chasing some hot-footed frogs. At least they had an excuse today, more often than not they would linger on the other end of the bridge until Link or Asahi shooed them away, worried about the status of their teacher. Before the Upheaval, Zelda treated them as though they were her own children, and now...

She just didn't seem to care.

Link shook his head to clear his mind as the children followed the frogs down the path, making his own way to the stalls against the house. Here were there horses, comfortable in their own stalls: Prince, Link's white stallion, and Star, Zelda's golden mare. They both nickered eagerly at Link's approach, excited for breakfast. Happily, Link fed them each their own mixture of oats and hay flakes, petted them a bit, then made his way to the shed behind the house, where their tack was stored.

He had only just started cleaning it when movement near the pond caught his eye. His head shot up, and he froze. Zelda. Hair disheveled from sleep, still in her nightgown, she slowly walked across the field, as though in a trance.

Immediately, Link put his tools away. So not to scare her, he snuck up quickly behind her so that he could follow closely, unsure if she was sleepwalking or experiencing an episode-- it had been a week since her last one, and Link had started to get hopeful. His heart hammered in his chest as he followed her all the way to the edge of the cliff-- where she let out a sudden, violent scream as she tried to walk off the edge.

Link lunged, snatching her by the waist and yanking her back, causing them both to fall. Zelda instantly snapped out of her trance, sobbing profusely. "I was flying, Link, I was flying--" she inhaled sharply, burying her face in her hands as Link held her close. "Link... Help me... I'm dying! I'm dying!"

"Asahi!" Link's shout hopefully carried far enough to wake her; often, it took Asahi and Link both to calm her after an episode like this. Link squeezed Zelda's frail body, knowing that the sensation grounded her in reality sometimes.

The sound of running footsteps brought his attention to Asahi. She too was still in her pajamas-- a pair of old, worn trousers cut off at the knees and an old shirt. Her odd hair, short like Zelda's, was sticking in all directions. She had clearly been asleep, and Link thought it odd she was here so quickly. "I heard her scream," Asahi breathlessly explained, kneeling beside them. "What happened?"

"Another episode," Link managed to say around the lump in his throat. Goddess, please save her...

Asahi gently pulled Zelda's hands away from her face beaming at her-- he wasn't sure if it was her Sheikah training, or simply her personality, but she could hide her worry better than he could. "Princess, are you troubled again?" Her voice was soft and gentle, soothing even to Link.

"I'm dying!" Zelda cried, slumping over into Link's arms. His heart shattered as he pulled her close.

"We all die, princess," Asahi said softly, "I'm dying, too." It was all Link could do not to start sobbing alongside the princess. Often, he felt like he never should have rescued her from her dragonic form. She would not have known who she was, or even that she used to be a Hylian. She would simply be, for eternity, and wouldn't have to feel any of this pain. As though sensing his guilt, Asahi laid a hand gently on his arm and said softly, "Let's take her inside."

Without hesitation, Link scooped the grieving princess in his arms and carried her back into the house, Asahi following close behind.

It took them nearly all day to calm Zelda.

Asahi made a soup of mushrooms and Sheikah spices, techniques used by her people to cure madness. He didn't like the idea of using such things, implying Zelda was mad, but... She almost was. After several hours, Link had made Asahi leave so that she could eat and properly dress while he watched over Zelda, who, when she finally did stop crying, laid on the bed and stared out of the window, straight at the bleak, stormy sky in a catatonic state.

Ever since her episodes began, they had moved the bed so that she could easily see out of the windows. Sometimes the sight of the sky calmed her.

Others, it made her frantic.

In her lucid moments, Zelda couldn't remember her episodes at all. She didn't even want to try to think about it. She would make food, then stay snuggled against Link until she ultimately fell into a peaceful sleep.

It was as though she were asleep even now. Her eyes were open, but even if Link started yelling he very much doubted if she would be able to respond. He watched her, eyes trailing along her face and taking in every detail. It should be me. He was the hero. He was the bearer of the Triforce of Courage. Why couldn't he have been thrown back in time, forced to turn into a dragon to restore the Master Sword? If given the chance, he would switch places with her in a heartbeat.

A knock at the door got his attention. Asahi must be back. With one final glance at Zelda, he jogged downstairs and opened the door, wincing against the sudden onslaught of rain, expecting her arms to be full as she rarely ever knocks--

--his hand went to his blade at once. "Do I know you?"

The mysterious visitor only narrowed his eyes. "No, you do not. Not yet."

Link tensed his body, preparing to strike if needed. The man was clothed fully from head-to-toe in close-fitting, off-white clothes, leather, and light armor; the Sheikah eye was emblazoned in gold on his chest. Deep brown eyes cut through Link like daggers, and sandy blond hair hung from his tight-bandaged, sky-blue cap, falling to his shoulders and in front of his covered face. A curved, golden harp hung at his lower back, and a long, faded blue scarf was wrapped around his neck. "Who are you?" Link knew pretty much all of the Sheikah in Kakariko, and they never wore attire like this. Yiga, maybe? But here? Now?

"Hello, Hero of Wilds," Answered the visitor, his voice deep and smooth. Link tensed, the hair on the back of his neck standing up. "I have waited a very long time for our meeting." He showed Link his gloved palms. "I am no threat to you, nor your princess. I come bearing a message... and a request. You may choose to hear me, just as you may choose to deny my request. This is up to you, hero."

Link regarded the visitor carefully. "Where do you come from?"

The man replied, "I will happily explain everything. I am willing to meet you elsewhere if it comforts you."

Slowly, Link nodded. "I'm waiting on someone. When she returns, I will hear you." He wasn't sure why he agreed. Maybe some small part of him hoped that this message wasn't bad news, although he felt in his heart that it could be no other kind. He refused to move from the doorway, however; he stood on the balls of his feet, prepared to strike if necessary. Whatever happened, this stranger would not take Zelda. He trusted Asahi's capabilities to keep her safe in his absence.

As promised, she hastily returned, carrying a couple of books and a half-eaten sandwich which she still munched on as she hurried across the bridge and up the path to the house. She paused behind the visitor, brow furrowed; he turned, breaking the staredown with Link. Much taller than her, he glowered down at her; Link braced himself, but Asahi only turned to Link, a bit confused. "Link, who's this?"

"I don't know," He answered, ignoring the visitor as he snatched his cloak. "But I'm about to find out. Can you take care of Zelda while I'm away? I'm sorry to drop her solely on--"

"Shut up. Go." She brushed past him, eyeing the visitor with a suspicious glance before closing the door behind Link. Unwilling to risk a brawl in front of the citizens of Hateno, Link escorted the visitor to the beach, empty due to the weather. The rain was lighter now, but still dreary enough to keep people away.

"So who are you?" Link demanded. "First I would know your name, and where you're from."

"I am called Sheik," Said the visitor, to which Link turned to face him. The name sounded... poorly imagined, at best. Why would he only take the first part of "Sheikah?" What's his real name? "And I am from very far away."

"What does that mean?" Link challenged.

"If I wanted you to know, I would tell you," Sheik responded coldly, to which Link balked.

"You said you'd explain everyth--"

Sheik interrupted him swiftly. "I said that I would explain everything, yes, but about my purpose here, not my personal details."

A spark of anger ignited in Link's chest, the emotion bellowing out before he could stop it. He took a couple of menacing steps toward Sheik, and in an explosion of light like he'd thrown a dazzlefruit, the warrior disappeared. Link gasped and struggled to regain his eyesight, furiously blinking away the afterimage of the flash. He drew his blade. "Where are you?!"

"I told you I wasn't here to harm anyone," Sheik reiterated, from behind him now. Link whipped around. The warrior was standing a short distance away, on top of a massive pile of driftwood that the villagers had been gathering for months. Lazily, he plucked at the harp, a single, beautiful note pealing from the instrument before fading into silence. The calls of the gulls overwhelmed the ending. "But if you come at me with violence, then I shall return the favor." His amber eyes, alight with a deep ferocity, cut through Link like a blade. The warrior shook his head, evoking another note from his harp. "Do you know of the Cycle of Resurrection?"

Link didn't sheath his blade just yet. He had no idea what this man was capable of. Instead, he stayed right where he was. "...Yes." How could he not? 10,000 years ago, Ganondorf became the Demon King, and was sealed before returning as Calamity Ganon, and then again in his newly revitalized form after that. And apparently, it had been happening for far longer than just 10,000 years, if Asahi's deep dives into Hyrulean history were to be believed.

Another note, this time off-key. "Do you know how it started?" When Link was silent, Sheik glanced at him before closing his eyes, then began to play a beautiful, haunting melody. Softly, Sheik began to sing.

"Oh youth, guided by the servant of the goddess,

Unite Earth and Sky

And bring light to the land."

Sheik glanced at Link, whose body had frozen in place. Link's skin crawled with chills, a deep knot of nostalgia rolling in his core. "...Sound familiar, hero?" Link could only stare, speechless. Where have I... heard that before? "Music is powerful in Hyrule. More so in the ancient ages. It could turn night to day, summon violent storms, heal a soul, change the season... Reverse time itself. Hyrule has forgotten its roots."

Link swallowed hard. "You mentioned the Cycle of Resurrection. What of its beginning?"

Sheik stared at Link for a moment longer before turning his gaze to the ocean. "In the beginning, there was no such thing as Hyrule. The world's citizens simply coexisted peacefully after the Golden Goddesses created the land. Din, Nayru, Farore; they left, leaving in their wake a legendary artifact with a power that would destroy the world time and time again. This artifact--" He plucked a string, "Was called the Triforce."

Link's heart skipped a beat. His mind went to the motifs present in the throne room of Hyrule Castle, even the champion's gear and Zelda's royal attire. The symbols, the statues of golden triangles with three parts. Wisdom, courage, and power. Granted, he knew very little about it until he came to know Zelda more, and they both learned more from Asahi, but knowledge on the Triforce was limited indeed. He said nothing, allowing Sheik to continue.

"The gods could not touch it. The Triforce and the Kingdom was watched over by a lesser goddess, Hylia. Peace lasted for many years, until a vengeful Demon King known as Demise brought forth his armies in a vicious battle for the Triforce's power. He was defeated by a hero clad in green chosen by the Goddess, and sealed away. Knowing that he would return, Hylia shed her holy form and was reborn as a mortal girl, able to wield the Triforce against the Demon King.

"Reborn alongside her was the Chosen Hero. His name," here Sheik turned, meeting his gaze. "Was Link."

Link's heart dropped. "When Link and the goddess reborn, Zelda, faced the Demon King, he was defeated once and for all; or so they thought. With his dying breath, Demise swore that he would return time and time again to confront those with the blood of the goddess and the spirit of the hero. For eons, this cycle of bloodshed has continued ceaselessly." Sheik began to play a mournful ballad; Link sucked in a breath.

How long has this been going on for?

Sheik continued without pause. "Through time, twilight, floods, even the Calamity, Demise's own chosen one-- a Gerudo boy, born very rarely-- is entirely unable to resist the influence of the demon, just as the hero is unable to fight the goddess's lead. Again and again, individuals are used by the gods to battle for an artifact they recklessly left behind. This, Hero of Wilds, is where you come in.

"In all of my travels, I have not yet met an incarnation of the hero and the goddess so similar to the original. Many incarnations have been deeply bonded; the Era of Time was a distinctly pivotal moment in Hyrule's history--"

"Hold on," Link interrupted breathlessly, trying to process everything he was hearing, "What do you mean, that you've met? What sort of travels?"

Sheik regarded him carefully, then rolled his eyes. "I wasn't finished, but... You recall me informing you that music has power-- or rather, had power. It seems that this era of Hyrule has forgotten that, as I've said." He rested a hand on the top of one of his harp's arms. "This harp is a replica of the one that the first incarnation of Zelda used. It is what allows me to travel so effortlessly across vast distances of land, sea, sky... and time."

Resentment, cold and ugly, reared its head. What was so difficult, nigh impossible, for him and Zelda to overcome, what effects her even still, is so easily done for this mysterious newcomer. With a harp. Link wanted to scream. He wanted to activate ultra-hand and send the pile of debris flying with Sheik on top. His growing anger didn't stop Sheik from continuing as though nothing happened.

"Your extensive trials, and Zelda's transformation into the dragon, has made for an impressive duo. You both have obtained new powers, the likes of which few incarnations have seen. You are also one of few heroes to witness the rise of Ganondorf twice-- soon to be three times, if we do not act fast."

"Stop!" Link cried, heart racing. "What are you talking about?! You're insane!" Surely this was some Yiga's ploy to frighten and disorient him. No way in Hylia is anything he's saying true.

"Am I?" Sheik hopped down from the debris pile. "You do not trust me, clearly. But shall I show you?" He extended a hand toward Link. His hand tightened on his blade.

"What exactly are you going to show me?"

Sheik was silent. "I could show you the first battle that started it all, the Imprisoning War, or take you to meet one of your predecessors. It's entirely up to you, hero. I will give you your choice."

Link hesitated. If this was a Yiga...

But if it wasn't, and what he was saying was true, then there may be a way to end the cycle. Their descendants would never have to worry about Ganon again. Sheik's hand remained extended. Link did not take it, did not sheath his blade. "Show me what I did this morning."

"Very well," Said Sheik, and played a melody on his instrument that chilled Link to the bone. The world flashed a deep, slate gray, and it was over in the blink of an eye. Physically, he felt no different, but something was definitely... off. The sky had darkened.

It was dawn again.

The rain was gone, and all was dry.

Link shuddered. Simple Yiga magic, probably. He's just trying to scare me.

"Come with me, hero." Sheik led him back up the way they had came. "Your past self cannot see your present self. It is one of the many rules of traveling through time."

Reluctantly, Link sheathed his blade and followed Sheik through the streets, wondering how in the world the warrior could navigate them so well, especially the back roads. Eventually they came to crest a ridge, where Link and Sheik could look down on the village of Hateno. At first, he saw nothing out of the ordinary besides the change in day; until he saw Zelda, leaving the house. She drifted across the field as though in a trance, and he recognized the events of this morning playing out before his very eyes.

Link flinched and turned away as Zelda's cry rang in his ears. I'm dying! He hated hearing her say those words. "Traveling through time is not easy, hero. If you decide to join me, see if our first recruit will tell you of his own travels. He waits for us at the edge of two eras."

Link whipped around. "So what exactly is your plan, then? Just gather a bunch of incarnations of the hero and fight this new Ganon one-on-one?"

"If it were that easy, we would have already done so," Sheik countered, following Link down the hill. "My travels have led me down many paths, and in all my years I have found only one lead. It is this one lead which has led me to take action." Link heard the rustling of old parchment and turned, finding Sheik pulling a small scroll out of his pocket. He unrolled it and read it, a shimmer of hope in the warrior's eyes.

"In realms unseen, where monsters dispel,

Fragments of courage, wisdom dwell.

Gather them, a scattered gleam,

An army born, a mighty feat.

The Demon King, a shadow's blight,

Seeks to consume the fading light.

But hope remains, a flicker bright,

A weapon forged in darkest night.

No blade of steel, no arrow's flight,

But whispers born of ancient might.

Find it in a place beyond time,

Following the spirit guide.

A bond unbreakable, a love so true,

To break the curse, and see it through.

The cycle ends, the blood shall cease,

When courage finds its final piece.

Wisdom's light, a guiding hand,

Will lead the way to a free land."

"It is poorly written," Sheik admitted, "But it is the only reference to the end of the cycle that I've found. I discovered it quite by chance; centuries after your era, and Hyrule still knows peace. It appears that something must have happened to stop the demon's spirit from continuing its hateful wrath."

"Can't we just wait for it to happen, then?" Link countered.

"It's not that simple," Sheik told him, and showed him the parchment, pointing to a corner in the bottom of the page.

Link's heart dropped. "That's--"

"Your signature, yes?" He wasn't sure if he imagined it or not, but Sheik smirked. "You wrote this, hero. But not yet. When you write it, we will have already long since undertaken this journey, discovered what we needed, and found an end to the Cycle. But your cryptic message makes it impossible to simply translate and find what we need."

Link sank to the ground, sitting on a rock and letting his head fall into his hands. The sensation of claws on his right hand made him want to throw up. "So you're telling me I have no choice?"

"You have the illusion of choice," Sheik corrected, "But the gods have plans for you yet, hero. And that princess of yours."

Link jumped to his feet, immediately defensive. "Zelda is in no condition to travel."

"I wholeheartedly agree," Sheik returned his harp to its place on his back. "But what of the girl?"

"Asahi?" He wished he hadn't said her name, who knows what this traveler might try to do with that information? "What about her?"

Sheik shook his head. "Do not think you are the only one I've been watching, Hero of Wilds. Asahi is a Sheikah. Not only does her combative prowess make her a prime candidate for an adventure such as this, but her knowledge of Hyrulean history nearly rivals that of Zelda's; and your princess is in no way up to the task. We cannot wait for her recovery, either."

"You said that I'd face three incarnations of Ganondorf," Link breathed, running his hands through his hair in frustration. "What did you mean by that?"

Sheik paused briefly, then explained, "Due to the Calamity, the Gerudo were very careful about having a male child. Their efforts were in vain. A boy was born, Ganondorf, around sixty years after the Calamity. He was banished as an infant and raised by twin witches in a hut in the middle of nowhere. He went by a different name and started as a good person. He traveled Hyrule, was well-read, and had many friends. No one knew he was a male Gerudo. Recently, however, due in part to the Calamity's return and the Upheaval, Demise's grasp has taken hold of him and is slowly crushing his humanity. He is building an army in the Depths, though he does not understand why. He is losing himself to the madness of the curse, and he cannot stop it. If we do not, then he will rise as another incarnation of the Demon King, and your blade will be called upon once more."

Link's stomach churned. He felt like he was going to be sick. His skin felt cold and clammy, his vision swam. Not again. Sheik patted Link on the shoulder as he walked by. "This would be a difficult decision for anyone, hero. Do not think your predecessors leapt at the chance, either. I will be in the inn for three days. If you do decide to join me, find me there."

Before he left, he played another quick song; Link grimaced as the sun violently shot from one place in the sky to the next before being hidden by cloud cover. Rain came pelting down. Sheik pulled up the hood of his scarf and headed back toward the village, leaving Link to wrestle with his own conflicted feelings.

Hylia, what do I do now?

When Link returned home, it was nearly nightfall. His heart and head heavy with everything he had learned-- and been shown-- by Sheik, he spilled all of the information to Asahi, his only source of friendship. Zelda, thankfully, was asleep finally. He told Asahi in the tool shed, unwilling to allow Zelda to overhear anything that might upset her.

Asahi stood in the doorway, chewing anxiously on her lip and curling the rope necklace she wore around the fingers of one hand, stroking the amber pendant with the other. "Goddesses, even though he used that powerful of magic, how are we supposed to be believe he's being truthful about everything? What if he's just a really powerful sorcerer looking to trap you in the past so that he can get rid of you and Zelda?" Her eyes widened. "And he knows I'd protect her in your absence."

"But if what he says is true," Link pinched the bridge of his nose, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "Then Ganon is coming back for another round, and I honestly don't know if either of us can handle another battle like that. Zelda certainly can't. Not right now. And if I know Ganon, he'll strike before she's ready at all."

"So what do we do?" Asahi questioned softly.

Silence filled the shed, broken only by the soft pattering of rain. Link and Asahi dwelled on their choice of options... or, rather, the illusion of choice, as Sheik had so wonderfully put it. "That... prophecy, or whatever it was... It really did have my signature on it."

Asahi couldn't stifle her smirk. "He said it was 'poorly written,' so, I believe it."

With an exaggerated roll of his eyes, Link stood. "Should we sleep on it?"

Asahi shrugged, letting her arms fall to her sides. "I'm with you, Link, whatever you decide to do. If that weirdo wants me along too, then... Oh well. Purah and Paya are more than capable of protecting Zelda."

"They aren't the most deadly Sheikah in over 100 years," Link countered playfully-- Asahi beamed, her eyes squinting shut as she did so. Her bubbly nature hid a very powerful, bone-crushing kick, sharp skill with a blade, and an array of Sheikah magic. "Still... I'll try to sleep on it."

Asahi only shrugged again; she gathered her things before she left, and Link patrolled the house dutifully for hours-- no, who was he fooling? He was pacing, up and down the stairs, around his living room in circles, up in the bedroom... That paper had his signature on it. Even if Sheik was watching for much longer than he let on, how would he have gotten close enough to copy Link's signature when he'd only used it a handful of times in his life? He paused at the top of the stairs, freezing as Zelda stirred. Her brow furrowed and she whimpered softly; the beginnings of a nightmare, but hopefully it would pass.

His mind wandered to all those before them, if what Sheik says is true. How much pain and agony they must have suffered. If Ganon really does come again, how would Zelda survive such an onslaught? She wouldn't, he realized grimly, I doubt if she would even be able to summon an ounce of power. Link couldn't do it by himself. If Ganon came again, Hyrule would fall, for good this time.

His heart skipped a beat.

Link snatched his cloak, locked the door, and ran across the bridge. He raced up to Asahi's door, raising a fist to knock, when it opened--

Asahi, but not in the comfortable tunic and leggings she had worn earlier. Already, she wore the snug Sheikah attire, built for stealth and dyed a deep black. Her face was concealed by a mask, a crimson wrapping around her head and fingertips. An armament of kunai blades hung at her hips, and he knew hidden in her gear was an assortment of weapons and tools galore besides that. A bit of her reddish hair stuck out from under the cap, and Link was struck by how similar her attire resembled Sheik's. "Figured you'd decide to join him, buddy. Decided I might as well get prepared."

A smile slowly spread across Link's face. "We could be going straight to our deaths, y'know."

Asahi raised an eyebrow. "Is that supposed to deter me?" She waved him on. "Go get the warrior. I'll make preparations to teleport Zelda to the Sheikah village in the morning."

At her words, Link tossed her the key to his house and raced through the empty streets. Rainwater splashed from puddles, soaking his legs and the hem of his tunic. He was nearly out of breath when he pushed open the doors of the inn, lungs heaving for air as he scanned the room, ignoring the surprised stare of the innkeeper as he jolted from his sleep. Sheik wasn't hard to find; in his white and blue armor, he stood out like a sore thumb. He sat at one of the tables, calmly sipping on his drink, as Link rapidly approached and plopped down on the seat across from him. "We'll join you," Link rasped, struggling to regain his stamina from the sprint down the road, "But we leave tomorrow, after we send Zelda somewhere safe."

Sheik leaned back, lounging in his seat. "Excellent," His amber eyes crinkled as he smiled beneath his mask. "What changed your mind, hero?"

Zelda. Our ancestors. Our descendants. If there really is a way to stop this... "The cycle must end."

"I make no promises," Sheik told him. "None whatsoever. We have a mere glimmer of hope that we can even put an end to this cycle at all. This letter could mean nothing, or we may not figure it out, leading to a branch in the timeline... Regardless of the outcome, I will return you to this time, hero, and I will help you stop Ganondorf if it comes to that."

Link felt a bit of relief, but he tried not to show it. Sheik extended his hand to Link once more. "Are you still so sure about this decision?"

This time, Link took it, shaking his hand firmly. "I will do whatever it takes to keep any incarnation of Zelda from facing this suffering again."

Sheik smiled. "Then we will leave as soon as you are ready."

Link's heart hammered in his chest with the adrenaline of such a hasty decision. He could only hope that he made the right choice; for everyone's sakes.

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