#now he's angry i spent this much on someone else's event

[ebongawk]

Hi!! HUGE fan of “even the stars (are taking aim)” here (very patiently waiting for the next chapter to drop😌🙏) and figured I may as well try out this prompt thing:

Eddie and Chrissy having their first Big Damn Kiss in a rainstorm, someplace where no one can see them, maybe after some kind of argument so they’re already passionate. I’d love to see what you create from this decently cliched premise😊✨

omg, thank you so much! 🥹 every star in the sky was updated on Tuesday!! and I'm hoping to be back to a semi-regular update schedule. however:

🌧️🌧️

He shouldn't be pissed.

He shouldn't be pissed.

He shouldn't be pissed.

(He was fucking fuming.)

Because it was August. The absolute tail end of the last summer he would ever spend in Hawkins, Indiana if he had fuck all to say about it. Because this was the absolute last goddamn high school-adjacent party he would ever be posted up at as a dealer, selling the bottom of his stash's barrel and high-tailing it the fuck outta here in four days.

Because he'd spent the last eight months falling into a weird, incredible friendship with Chrissy Cunningham and convincing her she was actually fucking worth something more than her mother let her believe, getting her to break up with her shitty boyfriend and start the process of reclaiming her life, only for her to show up at this stupid party on Jason Carver's arm.

She'd dumped him in March. Before spring break. Yet here she was, tucked under his ugly-ass letterman sleeve as she nursed the same red solo cup the entire night, and it made him want to fucking barf.

Eddie rolled his neck. Tucking another cigarette between his lips as he cranked up the prices of his product out of sheer spite. Taking advantage of the hazy stupor and fading into the background.

Chrissy tried to get his attention. More than once. He just ignored her.

What the fuck else was he supposed to do? Watching her intentionally go back to that asshole wasn't really something he'd even thought was a possibility. So why would he have prepared himself for the blow?

He just didn't think it'd hurt so fucking much.

Finally, after about midnight, he was officially sold out. Out of the game entirely. He snapped his box of tricks closed, protecting the crinkled pack of cigarettes from the summer rainstorm he could see pelting the porch screens. He didn't bother bidding anyone goodnight.

The one person he thought would care was too busy flashing the fakest fucking smile she had in her arsenal at that blond jockstrap.

Whatever. Screw it. Who cared? A year from now, he'd be so far removed from all this bullshit that it wouldn't even cross his mind.

(Even if that thought currently made him want to puke up his guts and choke on them.)

Uncaring of who he hit on his way out, Eddie slipped out the front door after smashing into a few angry shoulders. The shouts of indignation at his back may as well have been whispers for how much of them he heard, bowling his way into the warm rain and rushing toward his van.

He always parked hidden away from these events. Ever since Hopper decided to be happy and move to California with Joyce Byers and company, the P.D. had it especially out for Eddie. Giving Callahan a reason to crash a party would have him on way too many shit-lists to count.

Which was normally fine. Except right now. Soaked through by the rain and barely halfway to his stupid fucking sanctuary.

"Eddie!"

Christ.

Her voice still made him stop in his tracks. Shoulders heaving, spine straightening like someone suddenly jammed a rod down it.

Why did it hurt so much?

Turning, he tried to keep his expression as even as possible as he looked at her. Drenched from the stupid water falling from the stupid sky, her hair was already a mess plastered to her skin as she did her best to protect herself from the onslaught.

Too bad Eddie had already been caught in the metaphorical crossfire.

"What, Cunningham?" he asked, giving her obvious pause as she blinked up at him. He'd never been so harsh with her.

He didn't even know why he was being so harsh with her.

(Yes he did.)

"I-I just..." she started, holding an arm over her eyes so she could look up at him. They were standing in the spotlight of a streetlamp, the only thing illuminated in the entire world, and that anger still oozed from him like a bad infection. Festering too close to the surface to remain covered. Like the rain was washing it out, bringing it forward. "You–– You didn't, um, say hi, and you––"

"Okay?" He shrugged. "So, what, I'm legally required to exchange pleasantries with you every time I see you?"

"No, of course not, just––"

"Honestly, kid, I just wanna go home," he said before she could continue. Backing up a step. "Been nice, y'know, being friendly and all, but––" Coming to an immediate halt when one of her dainty little hands darted out and fisted in the wet fabric of his t-shirt.

"Eddie, you're being mean," she stated, her voice hard. Something she learned from him, he knew. Saying things, pointing out when people were being unfair instead of just writing welcome across her forehead and lying down for someone to be shitty to her. "And I–– I know this is about Jason, okay, but you didn't even let me explain––"

"Explain what, Cunningham?" he nearly shouted. "Because, honestly, I cannot for the life of me figure out why you'd willingly find yourself trapped under the weight of that jerk wad's arm."

"Because I need to be!" Chrissy really did shout, shaking her fist in his shirt for emphasis. The other was fisted against her own abdomen. Letting those mascara streaks fall down her cheeks like tear tracks.

Eddie scoffed. "Oh, you need to be? Excuse me, princess, didn't realize you needed him so much!"

"I don't––"

"Could've fucking fooled me, honestly!"

"I don't need him, Eddie! I just need to play her game for three more days and then––"

But she didn't finish her thought.

Instead, before he could even process what was happening, she grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and surged up onto her toes, pressing her lips clumsily against his.

Oh, Jesus Christ.

Eddie didn't think. Didn't fucking breathe. He just groaned, cupping her jaw in his hands and kissing her like his fucking life depended on it.

She tasted like rainwater and watermelon lipgloss and the fucking sunrise breaking past the clouds, basking him in her light and warming him against the rain. They moved together, a dance of lips and tongue, her little mewl of pleasure rolling down his spine as he greedily drank in every piece of her she was allowing him.

Shit. Shit. This was gonna hurt, wasn't it?

They fell apart, both of them pulling in air like they'd forgotten they had lungs, and Eddie let his forehead drop against hers. Holding her for however long he was allowed, how ever long she gave him.

"I don't need him," she whispered again, her voice near enough that it was like he could finally hear her. "I'm not even with him. It's just... It's just until I get my college fund, and then..."

"Does he know that?" Eddie asked, hating the vehemence in his own tone.

"Yes, Eddie," she assured him. "He's not as bad of a guy as you want to believe, you know." Her hands came up, wrapping around his wrists as she looked up at him. Blinking into the rain, she gave him a real, actual smile. One of those little ones he kinda hoped was reserved just for him. "He knows how I..."

She shook her head, then blew his fucking mind when she pushed up enough to kiss him again.

"I need you," she informed him. And Eddie could see her opening the little doorway into his chest and reaching in to pull his heart out. Though whether she was doing that now or eight fucking months ago was impossible to say. "I want you and I need you."

Oh, he was gonna explode. Poof into a million little bits, covering her in heart-shaped blood and viscera.

"Only if you need me, too, though," she finished when his fucking voice box wouldn't work.

He kissed her again. An emphasis to a point he couldn't verbally make. And she melted against him like it was everything she needed, everything she'd been craving alongside him for the last eight months.

"Christ, sweetness, I think I'm already in love with you," he laughed, the sound wet around the rain still falling around them.

"Oh," she breathed, looking up at him, her eyes so fucking bright in that subtle streetlamp light that he wanted to claw his way out of his own skin and use it as an umbrella for her. "Oh, that's good."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Because, um, I was hoping you'd have room for two in that van of yours come Wednesday." She grinned. "Should have all my stuff sorted out by then."

Eddie laughed again, bright and loud, letting the rain wash away all that gross upset so he could lift her by the waist and spin her around. She screamed in delight, arms around his shoulders, and he stopped and held her steadily above him so she could bring her lips down to his once more.

"I've got all the room in the fucking world for you, baby."

[aquagirl1978]

[girlgenius1111]

alone.

i wrote this in maybe a half hour and it's very short but i was very in my feels so you get angsty sol as a result before the events of family line. sol struggles. there is change on the horizon, but she doesn't see it.

-----

It was the same every morning, the same every day. A quick knock would wake you, a second knock a few minutes later telling you it was time to get up. You’d throw on clothes that didn’t quite fit with Spain’s climate, tie your hair up in a bun, and go downstairs. 

Breakfast was always quiet, ever since the first few weeks, when Ingrid had tried to engage you in conversation and you rejected every attempt. She’d ask you a question that would remind you how little she knew about your life now. You’d snap back at her unintentionally, she’d get angry, and the table would fall quiet. Eventually, it just stayed quiet. 

You’d go to school, barely understand a word spoken to you. Scrape by with passable grades, most of the time. Go back to Ingrid’s house. Do your school work at the kitchen table, where she could keep an eye on you. Hide in your room until dinner. Hide in your room after dinner. Distract yourself with a mindless show, or more often, a nature documentary of some kind. Fall asleep, dream of lakes and forests and grass and mountains; things that could never be disappointed in you. 

You went through the motions. Step by step, day after day. Not really living, just existing. Not trying, either. 

You’d stop trying a long time ago. Long before Spain, before the small, bland extra bedroom you slept in. Before disappointed looks had begun to come from your sister. You’d stopped trying when you were still in Norway, still disappointing your parents. 

Back in Norway, you felt content being mostly invisible. Your parents ignoring you was better than being yelled at, though they still did that a fair amount.There was something about being here, though, in Spain that was just… different. 

Perhaps it was that part of you, little you, who still remembered Ingrid as someone who gave the best hugs and always knew how to make you smile. Little you hadn’t ever had much hope in her parents, but she’d had hope in Ingrid. That part of you clung to the idea that Ingrid could still make everything better, like she had when you were small. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t let go of that hope. 

It crushed you, time and time again, when Ingrid yelled at you, or frowned at a bad grade, or sent you to your room for being a few minutes past curfew, without even letting you explain why you’d been late [there’d been a turtle in the road on your walk from the climbing gym, and it had taken 5 minutes you didn’t have to make sure it got across safely]. When she’d sigh after another weekend passed, and you remained locked in your room. When she’d tell you to just try harder. At speaking Spanish, at making friends, at school. 

You didn’t have anything left to give. All of your energy was spent dragging yourself out of bed. Why couldn’t she see that? Growing up, it had felt like Ingrid had been the only one to see you. Now, though, she was just like everyone else. She saw what your parents saw, you decided. Someone who just wasn’t worth it. 

Ingrid had always loved you. Even when it was hard to believe that your parents did, Ingrid always told you she loved you. She hadn’t said it in a while, though. You hadn’t heard from your Mamma in weeks, the last text you’d gotten from your Pappa had been scolding you for spending too much money. [You’d bought Ingrid a birthday present, but he made you return it before you could give it to her]. 

Maybe you just weren’t someone who could be loved. You rolled onto your side, covering your ears to block out the sound of Ingrid’s loud laughter at something Mapi had said. Tears dripped off your face, and you wished you were 7 again, burying your face in your sister’s shoulder and knowing that as long as she had you, you’d be okay. That was back when she loved you, though. You were pretty sure she didn’t anymore. How could she? When all you did was screw up, who could love someone like you? 

You weren’t 7 anymore, you were 17, and you were all alone. In a house hundreds of miles away from home, with your sister who you felt like you barely knew anymore. All alone. You were beginning to think that was all you’d ever be. Alone. 

You didn’t know a lot of things, though. You didn’t know about the book shoved under Ingrid’s pillow, about troubled teens. You didn’t know that she’d stand in your doorway sometimes, just watching you sleep. Enjoying that, at least while resting, you didn’t frown. 

You didn’t know your Pappa picked up the phone often, but never called, feeling like he’d created a gap he wasn’t sure he could ever fix. Didn’t know that sometimes your Mamma slept in your bed, remembering the small child that had once smelled of syrup and brought her flowers from the garden. 

You didn’t know that Mapi stayed up late at night, duolingo open on her phone, hoping that maybe speaking a language you understood would make you feel more at home. 

You didn’t know that Ingrid loved you more than her heart could take, sometimes, and that she was just doing what she thought would work. She didn’t realize you didn’t need discipline, that you just needed a support system. 

Things would improve, but you didn’t know that. As you sobbed into your pillow, you were pretty sure you’d always feel like this; unloved and completely alone. 

[whatswrongwithblue]

Based on your recent post: "your heart is beating so fast right now" (Alastor x Reader) - maybe some snu snu please? Thank you! ❤️

I am so sorry this took me so long! It's just been a crazy week and I'm preggers and always so tired but I hope you like it. I had to look up what snu snu was and while it's not exact, I hope the rough sex does it for ya!

Trigger warnings: Rough sex, oral (fem receiving), p/v, biting, clawing, choking, use of shadow tendrils/tentacles.

When you had first begun this little romance with Alastor, you had made a lot of assumptions about what it would be like.

You had expected him to be a doting gentleman, maybe even a bit over the top. Opening doors for you, offering his arm, cooking for you, etc etc. And that was all very spot on.

You had also prepared yourself for him to be a bit of a jealous type and that was also certainly true. There had already been a few conversations about boundaries and you assured him that the second you needed his help scaring off someone, you would be happy to unleash him but he wasn’t allowed to threaten to eat someone just because you were friendly to them.

And then there was the matter of sex. You had assumed incorrectly that after that first quite passionate kiss that he would whisk you away to his room and ravish you. Or the second kiss. Or the third.

But nothing else had happened yet. There had been a plethora of opportunities for him to make a move and yet he was clearly one for taking things slowly.

It left you feeling more confused than frustrated because he clearly adored you and wasn’t shy about the fact that he considered you two an item now. Perhaps it was just because he was an older soul but this was Hell. It wasn’t like a little bit of forward behavior down here was frowned upon.

And then the day that Lucifer and Mimzy showed up to the hotel came and you were reminded of a very particular side of Alastor that you found unbearably attractive.

It’s time I remind everyone why I am here.

That confidence. That glee in his eye. The ease in which he eviscerated his enemies. Not to mention the increase in his size and the number of appendages he had when he went full demon on everyone.

You had spent the rest of the afternoon in a tense, silent, rather wet uncomfortableness as you waited for evening to come so you could get a little alone time with your new significant other.

Evening finally came and found you at Alastor’s door. You had spent a few minutes pacing your room, hoping he would come to you, but of course he hadn’t. It was time to take matters into your own hands so you lifted your arm, ready to knock, when the door flung open before you could.

Alastor grinned at you as he noticed your hand still being held in mid air.

“So you were going to knock. I thought you were going to stand there all night.”

“Why would I do that when there are far better things I could be doing this evening?” you said, feeling unusually bold.

“Is that so?” Alastor raised an eyebrow at you as he stepped aside and gestured with his arm to invite you inside.

You walked a few feet into the room and then turned to face him and instantly felt your body warm under his gaze.

He looked angry, or at least as angry as Alastor could look. The strained smile, the pinched brows, the ridge of fur along his ears all dead give aways that the demon that was usually so composed was still very bothered by the events of the day.

But his body language towards you was much more welcoming. So you took your chances and rushed over to him, took his face in your hands, and pulled him down into a heated kiss.

He went tense at your touch but only for a moment before he was melting into the embrace, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in closer.

There had been plenty of fantasies before tonight that you entertained yourself with when alone in your bed. Images of tender, slow love-making for your first time with Alastor. But that was not what you were craving now and you had a gut feeling it wasn’t what Alastor needed either.

Your hands were everywhere on him; running through his hair, caressing the back of his neck, sliding beneath the lapels of his jacket.

And the way he was kissing you back was only spurring you on. You could feel his need, his own frustration and pent up aggression, in the way his lips crashed against yours with a bruising ferocity and his tongue sought entrance. You parted your lips and invited him in and the taste of him was intoxicating.

He was practically humming with power beneath your touch; he was strung taught with it and you wanted nothing more than for him to unleash it on you.

“I want you.”

The words left your lips the moment you pulled away for air, the statement more a demand than a plea. Your eyes met his in time to see them momentarily blaze a brighter red at your admission.

“Are you certain?” he asked slowly. He was offering you an out; giving you a warning. “Tonight is not what I had imagined for us. I do not have it in me to be gentle right now. Not even with you.”

“I don’t want gentle,” you assured him and brought your lips back to his.

Alastor kissed along your jawline and then dipped his head lower to kiss along your neck.

You let out an involuntary squeak when he bit you, rather hard. You could feel the sinking in of his teeth and then the warm wetness of his tongue as he lapped at the wound he had created along your pulse point.

“Your heart is beating so fast right now,” he whispered, his lips tickling your flesh as he kept his attention at your neck. “If I didn’t want you so badly, I would eat you alive right now.”

“I’m not scared,” you insisted and Alastor pulled away from your neck then to look into your eyes with a mischievous smile.

“Oh, trust me, my love,” he was with a wicked chuckle. “I know.”

____

You were spread across his bed and naked within a few minutes. No time to savor the discarding of clothes, no time to relish in the delight of seeing each other nude for the first time.

No, neither you nor Alastor had the patience for that. Rather, he had you on your back with his face buried between your legs before you could even think of being self-conscious or get a good glimpse of his body.

All you could see now as you looked down your torso at him was his antlers and ears pointed straight at you and the ashen bare skin of his shoulders and arms as he forced your legs wide.

And in a sense he was doing exactly as he had threatened he might do; he was practically eating you alive. There were already a multitude of bite marks along the inside of your thighs, leaving smears of blood along both your skin and his while his tongue and his lips were doing devilish things at your core. Stroking and prodding and sucking on every fold, every inch, every sensitive collection of nerves inside and out of you. Occasionally you felt the edge of his teeth graze your most intimate flesh, never biting down, but each sharp sting added a new thrill to the sensation and made you feel like he was truly and utterly devouring you. All the while you rutted against him, crying out in a mix of pleasure and pain, clawing at his hair as you grew closer and closer to that wonderful edge, and he dug his talons into your hips and thighs in an attempt to gain some control over your movements.

His tongue dived into your depths, curling up and licking in just the right ways, and those unnaturally red eyes of his met yours and you came undone, helplessly shuddering against him as he finally mastered his control over your senses, leaving you breathless and blinking up at the ceiling in a daze after it ended.

You were vaguely aware of him lifting himself up from between your legs but you hadn’t even caught your breath when he had you flipped onto your stomach and aggressively grabbed your hips to lift them upwards with a strength you didn’t know he possessed in this form.

“I’ll ask you one more time, ma cher,” you heard him say in his husky, staticky voice. “Are you sure you want this?”

You huffed a laugh into the sheets beneath your cheek, way passed feeling shy knowing that he had your entire backside and pussy exposed to his gaze at the moment.

“Always the gentleman,” you answered breathily. “But shut up and fuck me, already.”

With a complete lack of verbal response, he slid his cock into you, ramming his hips against the swell of your cheeks as he bottomed out.

He grunted and you cried out as he stretched you to your limits but true to his word, he was far from gentle. Hardly giving your body a second to adjust to the size of him, he set up a rapid pace, sliding almost all the way out before slamming into you over and over again.

“Such a good girl for me,” he praised, though his tone of voice was anything but polite. “If only you could see how well you take me.”

Your brain went numb as he set your body on fire; absolutely aflame with lust and delight as he pounded into you from behind. There was no room in your mind for dirty talk when all that you were felt narrowed down to the claws holding up your hips and the cock that was working every inch of your core in a way you had never experienced before.

But it seemed Alastor still had his wits about him and had no pity for the state he had put you in.

“Did you like what you saw today?”

All you could do to respond was moan and clench your walls tighter around his length.

Alastor grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked you head back, forcing your back into a painful arch as he kept your hips raised and open, never once losing his ceaseless rhythm into you.

“I asked you a question.”

You felt your body gush at the roughness and the stinging pain at your scalp, your pussy squeezing his cock with new enthusiasm at the anger in his voice. It didn’t scare you, it thrilled you and turned you on even more.

“Yes,” you panted.

“That’s what it takes to get you to want to fuck me? And I thought you were such a sweet thing.”

“What? No – no, I- ” You whimpered as the grip on your hair tightened and you felt the stinging of tears in your eyes beginning to build. But rather than try and pull away, you pushed your hips up and backwards, encouraging Alastor to keep up this act of roughness with you.

“I’ve wanted you every . . . every night,” you managed between gasps and the forceful rocking of your body. “Today just made me want you like this.”

He was silent for a minute as he considered your words, the only sound in the room the wet noises coming from your joined bodies and your coinciding moans.

And then you felt them, cool little tendrils sliding around your body, a cascade of shadows slithering across the skin of your thighs and back.

“And what else did you see today . . . that aroused you to such a point?” Alastor asked. The shadows snaked their way higher, wrapping around your ribcage and caressing your dangling breasts.

He still had your head yanked back by your hair so you couldn’t see them but you knew exactly what they were; those tentacles or tendrils or ropes, whatever they were. Weapons of shadow that Alastor had unleashed that afternoon on the loan sharks, now stroking your body – now completely trapping you to his bed.

You were going to come right then and there, thinking of those lengths of darkness that had disemboweled demons before your very eyes and how wonderful they felt being used on you this way. One toyed with your navel before trailing lower and twisting around the apex of your thighs, stroking that little swollen pearl of nerves with a dexterity and skill that shocked you.

A loud moan tore from your lips, your mouth hanging open at the sensation of it. There were so many of them, you weren’t sure you could count them even if you could see your body from a different vantage point, but you were utterly consumed in their embrace, forcing you completely still as Alastor continued to fuck you with perfect, unrestrained viciousness.

He practically sung your name, a warning for you to respond to his questioning before he had to punish you again.

“These,” you whispered, knowing he could hear you perfectly well. Just in time for one of the tendrils to begin stroking your jawline, you managed to tilt your head enough to capture it with your mouth and give it a seductive wet suck.

Alastor hissed behind you and snapped his hips in an uncontrolled rhythm for a moment and you grinned around the swollen black shadow between your teeth as you realized they were quite sensitive little appendages.

You salivated, letting your drool coat the delicious tendril and took it in deeper before hollowing out your cheeks and giving it another hard suck as you pulled your head away from it.

It yanked away from you and coiled around your neck before you could repeat the motion.

“That’s enough of that . . . for now,” Alastor said and the shadow around your neck tightened as he regained his control of the situation.

Your face turned red, burning hot, and you gasped for air, feeling the euphoria and elation wash over you as your burning lungs fought for oxygen and just when you thought you might actually faint, your orgasm crushed you from the inside out and the tangle of shadow around your neck let go.

You fell face first into the sheets as wave after wave hit you, every second of pleasure being dragged out to the fullest extent by Alastor, not letting up for a single moment as he pushed and dragged his cock through your spasming walls.

And then you were a weightless, boneless mess of flesh and nerve endings as you lay motionless beneath him as that perfect blissful minute ended, only coming back to reality when you felt the change in your lover above and behind you.

His thrusts became shallower, his grip on your hips tightening as his talons dug into you flesh, inch by inch, and then you felt the subtle but telltale twitch of his cock and the warmth of his seed filling you up until it was spilling out of you, coating your folds and trickling down your inner thighs.

Bruised and bleeding, and still tingling with post-coital bliss, you found yourself in Alastor’s arms as you lay on your side, your face buried in his bare and furry chest.

Hands that were now tender and loving, with no threat of claws or cuts, stroked your hair and along your spine as you both came down from your high.

You relaxed into his embrace, basking in the sweet moment; the exact opposite and perfect balance to the rough fucking you had just received. After several minutes, you expected yourself to fall asleep but your mind kept lingering on what had just transpired and rather than feel sated, you felt your thighs rubbing against each other with renewed need.

Nuzzling into his chest fluff, you let your hands become more brazen on his body and you found yourself kissing a trail along his collar bone and up his neck before you heard a deep chuckle come out of him, the vibration of it strong enough to be felt against your lips as you sucked hard just below his adam’s apple.

“Oh you insatiable thing,” he said through his laughter and then he was grabbing you by the jaw and forcing you to look into his eyes. “Want more?”

You couldn’t tell if his tone was challenging or threatening but either way it sent another wave of desire straight down into your core that was still throbbing from how thoroughly it had just been fucked.

Smiling at him, you just gave him one simple nod, and looked eagerly up at him through hooded lashes.

“Well then,” he said, and from the corner of your eyes, you saw those shadowy tendrils re-appear. “Let’s see just how talented that mouth of yours is.”

More request prompts here! Or send me an original one of your own. Only stipulation is they must be Alastor x Reader or take place in the universe of my main fic, The Fire in the Sin.

[viviennevermillion]

Joining them in the hot springs

notes: this event is feeding my creative brain so much.

contains: character x gn!reader

characters included: leona kingscholar, kalim al-asim, vil schoenheit, lilia vanrouge

warnings: none

dark content creators and consumers do not interact

Leona is happy to get out of the car and into the relaxing hot spring; praying to the stars above that Lilia and Kalim would not make that an experience too. He had turned the radio off immediately and considered punching it for a second after his two guests and classmates had decided to sing along to the music and clap to the rhythm of the song. 

“If you’re not quiet on the way back, I’m leavin’ ya here and you can walk back to the hotel”, he shot the two of them an angry glare, “annoy someone else with your singing.” You poked his side and linked your arms. “If you keep looking all grumpy like this, you’re gonna get wrinkles all over your forehead”, you teased him and he gave you a smirk back. “And you’d still love me”, he wrapped an arm around your shoulder and led you to the secluded area only the royal family had access to. “Okay, the changing rooms for guests are over there, please don’t break anything or slip on the floor and die, we need you for the tournament tomorrow”, he sent the others off, “see ya in a couple of minutes.” The last sentence was directed specifically at you and he pressed a kiss to your forehead before parting from you. 

When everyone else came out of the changing rooms, Leona was already relaxing in the hot spring. His eyes were closed and he had his hair tied up into a bun. Once you were submerged in the warm water, you marveled at your boyfriend for a while. He looked so peaceful like this. You could see ripples on the surface of the water where his tail was moving.

You smirked and decided to flick your finger on the surface of the water, sending a couple of droplets flying straight into Leona’s face. His eyes opened instantly as he reached for his magical pen at the side of the hot spring. Oh god. The last thing you saw was Leona’s mischievous grin before he sent a whole wave of water at you. “Which one of us is looking like a wet cat now, huh?”, he laughed but you weren’t giving up yet. You took both of your hands, pushing the water into his face. Leona grabbed your waist, pulling you onto his lap before he flicked his wet tail into your face gently. You shoved his tail aside.

“Argh- stop it, herbivore”, Leona growled at the sensation of you blowing cold air into his ear. 

With both of you deciding that this was fun while it lasted but also that your time was better spent using the hot spring for its intended purpose, Leona pulled you very close to his chest and held you tightly against him, nuzzling your cheek affectionately. Both of you closed your eyes and Leona wrapped his tail around you. You took a deep breath, melting into Leona’s embrace as he gently ran his fingers up and down the skin of your back. 

“Never thought I’d see you so affectionate and gentle with anyone”, Vil commented with a teasing smirk and Leona opened one eye to glare at him. “I can drown you in the pool and the guards will make it look like an accident”, Leona replied dryly but it was evident he wasn’t serious.

Leona indulged you as you pulled him into a loving kiss; his lips still tasting like the baobab candy he had eaten before. 

He eventually fell asleep resting his chin on your shoulder or your head, mumbling a quiet “love ya, herbivore” in his sleep.

Kalim is the polar opposite of Leona when it comes to spending time in the hot springs.

He brought a floatie and pool noodles and a small radio that cost more than what you had in your bank account. “If ya play happy music here, I’m kickin' ya out”, Leona warned and Kalim put away the radio with a sad expression.

Kalim was so used to Jamil taking care of everything for him that he had a lot of trouble filling the floatie and the beach ball he had with air. “Here, let me help you with that”, you sighed and grabbed the pump, showing him how to do it. “Thank you so much, you’re the best!”, Kalim hugged you and looked at you with a bright smile before climbing back into the hot spring.

The two of you eventually ended up in a pool noodle fight together, hitting each other on the head with the foam sticks, much to everyone else’s annoyance. Kalim was laughing and eventually decided to surrender. “You’re so precious to me, I just have to let you win!”, he explained and pressed a kiss to your cheek, “I love you so much!” Kalim pulled you into another hug. “I love you more”, you insisted and gave his lips a sweet kiss. “No, I definitely love you the most-” “Would you two shut the fuck up?”, Leona groaned and held his head.

Things got even worse when Kalim decided to bring the beach ball. You had a blast for a while as you were throwing it back and forth in between you but the fun was over when Kalim aimed wrong and hit Vil in the head, knocking the cucumber slices off his eyes and smudging the beauty mask he had put on in the process.

Vil scolded Kalim and you for 2 minutes straight.

“We’re so sorry, Vil”, Kalim looked sad and you hugged him from behind, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder.

His mood seemed to lighten up as you pulled him close to cuddle; deciding that relaxing was also nice if you two could snuggle in the meantime.

Kalim sat down on your lap in the hot springs and just snuggled you for the rest of the stay. He talked about how this was very different from the bathhouse they had at home and everyone stared at him in bewilderment as he described the place; unaware of how he once again shocked everyone with the Asim family's amount of wealth.

"If peasantry is an emotion, I'm feeling it right now", Grim sat outside of the hot springs, "and to spend that amount of madol on a bathhouse of all things. Just imagine how many cans of tuna I could buy from this."

"I'm pretty sure for most people the intergenerational supply of tuna would be the weirder purchase...", you mused and gently massaged the back of Kalim's head with your fingertips.

"Wow, you guys were right, I'm feeling totally refreshed right now!", Kalim commented with a smile as you exited the hot springs and he picked up his stuff. He attempted to play the radio in Leona's car on the way back. This did not work out.

For Vil, this was obviously the highlight of the entire trip. The whole reason Leona had even been able to bribe him to join the 'Catch the Tail' team. He was even more delighted to spend this day with you.

Your presence made him look past even the most bothersome inconveniences, namely Kalim and Lilia improvising a punk rock version of "Absolutely Beautiful" in the car. "Let's just hope they'll be more quiet in the hot springs", the Pomefiore dorm leader sighed and you passed the water bottle you had in your backpack to him, which made Vil smile, "how is it you always seem to know exactly what I need? It even is my favorite brand of water."

"You have a favorite brand of water?", Leona raised an eyebrow and then shook his head, "...talk about unnecessary things to think about..."

Vil ignored the grumpy lion beastman.

He was by far the one who took the longest in the changing rooms. He brought a bunch of products he had bought before at Elephant Legacy and was looking forward to trying them out.

He would let you use them as well if you wanted to.

He put on a beauty mask. Vil let you massage his shoulders with some new massage oil he bought and took care of the tension in your muscles as well. "Are you enjoying yourself, my love?", he asked and you could hear the affection in his voice as his fingers massaged the skin between your shoulder blades. "Hmm", you hummed and he gave you a sweet kiss to your cheek, leaving a slight lipstick mark on your face. He'd make sure to notify you of that before leaving the hot spring.

Vil would eventually end up resting against your chest. You had your arms wrapped around him from behind and he leaned the back of his head on your shoulder. Relaxing with you was worth compromising his posture for an hour.

Lilia is thrilled and also quite curious about going to Elephant Legacy and spending time at the hot springs just to relax.

He comes out of the changing rooms wearing the vacation shirt Malleus got him from Scalding Sands, a beach hat and a pair of star-shaped sunglasses. Vil has to really bite his tongue to not comment on how Lilia's choice of outfit has hurt him in his soul. His swimming trunks are in a shade of pink that does not work at all with the orange shirt and there's a bat pattern on it.

You don't know how he did it but he enters the secluded hot spring that only members of the royal family have access to with a tray of mocktails on it. He insists that he prepared them himself and that he's "quite good at making them". Knowing his cooking skills, you're not taking any chances. The others how ever? You'll never forget the face Kalim made when he took a sip from Lilia's homemade fruity drink. "Lilia...haha...what exactly did you put in this?", Kalim asks with a forced smile. "I made them to match your personalities", Lilia claps his hands with a joyful expression, "yours, Kalim, has orange, mango, chocolate and mashed chicken nuggets in it." Kalim sighs. "Hmm, I think the chicken nuggets were a bit much..."

"The fuck's in mine?", Leona asks, not having drank even a sip from his, "it looks awfully see-through." Lilia smirked. "Water, chili powder, a lot of salt and four shots of whiskey", he explains. Leona pushes the "drink" far far away from him.

Lilia joins you in the hot springs not soon after and wraps an arm around your shoulder, letting you rest against his chest.

He starts recalling times of war when he went to the hot springs to try and rest his bones as well as clean his wounds. He gives a very detailed description of the incident and Kalim starts crying.

Lilia would give you a massage and also let you massage his shoulders. He'd spend his time with you talking about everything you've seen on your trip so far now that you have some quiet time without a new experience waiting just around the corner. It's the perfect time for him to aquire how you liked your trip so far, what were the best parts for you and tell you some stories about his travels in the past. Lilia enjoys the peaceful atmosphere the hot springs create. "It's one of the best places to talk about one's worries or simply relax", he says with a smile on his face.

Lets you wash his hair while he leans back against you with a satisfied expression. Loves the feeling of your fingers against his scalp.

"This was a truly relaxing experience", he rejoices after exiting the hot spring, holding your hand in his, "I'll remember this for a long time, my love." He gives you a kiss to the cheek.

[savnofilter]

Your Scent Is Sweeter | e. kirishima

       Werewolf!Eijiro Kirishima x Virgin![FEM]Reader

CONTENT WARNING(S): sexual content, one shot, loss of virginity, kirishima likes how you smell, dry humping, hints of jealousy, spit (1), knot inflation, pull out method, mutual pining, friends -> lovers (?), established friendship.

COUNT: 3.4k words [13 mins.]

READ MORE: masterlist + [student masterlist]

A/N: ehhh i dont think i'll ever do this like an animal horny hybrid shit after the last few fics i have queued up. 😭 even if i do i'll def cringe it later probably anyways- ignore my hating… also this is a continuation from a draft over a year ago?? including the next two bakugo fics im going to post and the other dragon!kirishima fic so bare with me. this isnt even that bad LOL. thank you, anon!

How you and Kirishima first met was simple:

Two different hands reached out for the last skewer that sat on the hot grill, both stopping in hesitation at the presence of someone else. You both stopped and looked at each other, an awkward laugh coming from you as an equally shy smile graced his lips. 

“Lady’s first!” He grinned at you, his sharp teeth showing as he blushed softly, stepping back. “Go ahead, I’ll just swing back later.”

“Thank you.” You smiled at him, feeling butterflies in your chest as the cute male allowed you to grab it. 

As much as you wanted to say something else, your brain short-circuited on coming up with anything. Part of you wanted to tease him and say he could take it, but you never pass up on an opportunity for food. Nevertheless, even if it was for a random cute guy. Plus you had spent the last few hours dancing and working up a sweat, you were sure you needed it more than him. As he stood to the side, you were able to pay and take your leave, waving to him as you disappeared into the crowd. One last glance was exchanged with him as you left him at the stand.

Typically, you wouldn't go to many events if it weren't for the festivals or known shows; but this one faithful New Year's festival when you were fresh into adulthood had proven you made the great decision to attend the celebration. Events between humans and werewolves were often rampant during popular holidays, the New Year being one of them. 

There were many people around with many great food booths to compare. It was only a mere coincidence that you two seemed to be craving the same savory treat, kabobs.

After the first time you two had met, you started bumping into him more at cultural events. You hadn’t told anyone that you had met with this boy. At least you were sure he was around your age, young twenties or so, but there was no mistaking he had a few on you though not too much. The more you saw him at these gatherings, the connection between you two grew naturally, and it soon evolved into a friendship. No one knew about this friendship and to your friends he was merely regarded as something akin to a hallway crush. What they didn't know was that you two had been seeing each other for about two years now, doing various things together as a private friendship. It was no surprise the once innocent feelings you had for him slowly turned into a crush each time you two met. Luckily enough for you, today was one of the days when you two could catch up and you were more than ready to see him again. 

You bit your lip as you sat on the cut-down tree stump, one of the many things that made him complain. Something about humans defiling the woods by making modifications that didn’t need to be made. Oftentimes when you met him, he ranted about different things, all things to be exact. Even with his rambling nature, he had other sides to him. You saw him chill, you saw him happy, you’ve seen him angry and you’ve seen him annoyed. But the ‘mood’ he approached you with today was something different. It was… feral. In a way, you couldn’t explain it.

“E-Evening, Kirishima.” You smile up at him as he walks up to you, holding up the basket you brought for him. “I made your favorite, they’re still hot just how you like them!” You open the basket to show him the goodies, scooching over on the big seat to give him room to sit down. He was quiet today, stiff too. You tried not to show your concern as he picked up the bag and sniffed it. It was times like these when you could pay close attention to the way his face looked, admiring the roundness of his cheeks that complimented his sharp jaw. 

Kirishima only grunts as he sits away from you, his quiet and fidgety demeanor worrying you a bit. Your eyes observed his statue that had a light sheen of sweat layering his tanned skin that was visible to the eyes, his brows scrunched angrily. His facial expression was one of heavy frustration even with how much he tried to hide it. Whatever he was trying to find using his snout appeared to not have been found, and he was once again on the hunt to find the source.

Kirishima proceeds to start sniffing again, this time pulling away to smell somewhere else. You couldn’t help but stare as his behavior was odd, flinching a bit when his nose led to sniffing around you. You tried to stay calm as he got closer, shifting awkwardly as you contemplated the right moment to ask about his demeanor. His breathing seemed a bit ragged too, his chest rising and falling as he avoided contact with you, even visually. 

“You’re… in heat.” 

If he couldn’t see the blush on your face you could certainly feel it.

“....what?"

“I can smell it, you’re aroused...” Eijiro responds simply. "And you smell really good."

He was still standing as he towered over you. He rested the basket next to you and didn’t move, his eyes dark with a glint you haven’t seen before. His hand comes up cup your jaw, his palm hot against your skin. You play with your sleeves as you grow flustered, laughing nervously as the thought of being in a lewd situation with the black-haired male starts to run through your head.

“Eijiro…” You start, looking up at him as he makes you look up at him by tilting your head up. You felt as though you were caught stealing from a cookie jar, hands covered in crumbs as you tried to hide the emotions stirring inside you that he could very obviously sense. 

His lips spare you the process of trying to come up with something to say as he presses his mouth against yours. You felt something spark as he did, your hands that were once clenched at your chest held his shoulders, stabilizing yourself when he forces you to lay down on the large tree stump you sat on. You tried to keep up with his kisses, opening up your mouth to let him in, fearing the pain of accidentally poking something if you chose to let your tongue wander in his. You moaned as his tongue poked and prodded in your hot cavern, his hands moving to grip your thighs to spread them apart as he got between them.

You hadn't noticed how big his body was, being so exposed to it so many times in such a friendly setting compared to this one. You daydreamed about this moment but never did you think it would happen so soon. Your heart hammers in your chest upon feeling his lips move so softly against yours, caring even. You could tell that he was the skilled one between you two and his kind way of gentleness showed with his fervent kisses. Unfortunately for him though, you didn't nearly have as much lung capacity as him to continue this unbroken kiss. 

One of your hands on his shoulders taps him as an indicator for a breather, the doting male taking the message. Your labored breaths mix with his as your eyes can't help but be glued to his in desperation. A timid mewl is ripped from your lips when his hands that once respectfully rested on the sides of your hips swoop down to grip the back of your thighs and reach behind you to squeeze your bum. Kirishima growls as the scent of your arousal heightens, his gaze darkening as he prepares himself to fuck you. 

"I-I didn't want to pounce on you like this but you smell so good." Kirishima rambles as his hands start to grope at your clothed skin. You couldn't do anything but just lay there and take it, watching up at him with curious eyes.

His strong and calloused hands trail up your body to grope your chest through your clothes, the heavy weight of his hands bringing a rush of excitement straight to your core. Whilst he fondles you he successfully manages to slide closer to you between your legs, your thighs resting on his as he gets comfortable. You bite your lip feeling his hard length now pressing against your core, a taunting sensation between the layers of clothes that restricts you. While your hands never left his shoulders his hands happily roamed your body. 

From when he was fondling you, he was able to unbutton some of your blouse, the top of your cleavage now exposed to him, and the beautiful light of the moon from atop the sky. You feel tightening in your chest as oxygen starts to run out from kissing for so long, your hands lightly pushing him away. He pulls away with a light growl that marks his excitement. Kirishima hadn't slept with humans often but had to remind himself that he had to be gentle…. at first. 

"Do you want this, Y/N?" Eijiro holds your chin to have you look up at him. You lightly gulp in excitement at the feeling of his rough hands on your jawline, a more than ready nod coming from you. 

"I want to, Eiji." You're not even sure how you managed to maintain eye contact after relaying that. Until now, you had only kissed other people but other than that it never went further. There wasn't much left to ponder about his experience in these activities, though. "Just be gentle, this is my first time, okay?"

He visibly portrays his shock at the revelation with a dropped jaw but quickly recovers by nodding his head in understanding. If anything, this is one of the best news he's heard in a while. Now it wasn't often that Kirishima thought about your sex life. When he did think about you having sex, other partners were never in the equation. Just purely you and him. Though on his part he was assuming your experience—it was just Ludacris to him that no one has gotten that far with you yet considering he could tell the way most of the males around you acted. 

Those festivals where he'd watch you from afar and get a jealous flutter in his chest fell testament to this, later his anger fueling into pure neediness in the comfort of his bedroom. He'd be straight-up lying if he said he wasn't crushing on you hard. You were as sweet as ever, pretty with a physique that suited you nicely, a smile that he fell in love with on the first day, and god you always smelled so good. Even in times when he'd playfully chase you down and you'd try and push him away in embarrassment of odor, it was that exact husk that drew him in closer. The pull that made him want to pin you down and fuck you raw.

Kirishima grips your hand and kisses the back of it as he stares deeply into your eyes. "Of course, anything for you."

You softly sucked in a breath feeling his hot hand slip down to palm your sex, the sensation so very foreign to you. Undoubtedly he could certainly sense the wetness through your clothes, another animalistic growl coming from him. He palms you in preparation for his eventual fucking, skilled hands rubbing at your labia and then playing with your clit. Your body jolts at the pleasure you receive from that certain area, a pained whimper in desperation slipping from your lips as you clawed at him. 

His deft fingers easily rubbed against your clothed core, determined to get you hot and ready for him. His eyes watch down in a predatory gaze as he watches your expressions for any behavior change, his pupils dilating in hunger as he watches your body open more and more for him. Once he's done pawing at you he presses his crouch right against yours, the heat and weight of his confined cock stirring a whimper from within you. You tilt your head back, hands still stuck on him as you pull him closer to your body instinctively. Kirishima wordlessly leans in to press more animalistic kisses to your neck, now utilizing his sharp teeth to nip and bite at your skin. He groans against your sweet skin as you start to grind against him as well, a revelation now settling in that you were impossibly sensitive in all areas of your neck. 

Usually by now, Kirishima would've fucked whoever was underneath him into oblivion already, but he was purposely taking it slower. He needed to tease and punish you for not being his any sooner. To make him wait so long to get between your luscious and squeezable thighs. 

"Eijiro," A louder moan encourages him when he roughly nips at the conjuncture of where your neck and collarbone meet, the sensation sending a hot shiver down your spine. Mixed with the friction of his heavy hips against yours you're shaking under him, eyes prickling with tears as an unfamiliar feeling starts to wash over you. "W-Wait—!" You try to tap his shoulder, the act has him unmoving as he himself already knew what you were experiencing. 

Kirishima leans up to witness the pleasurable experience wash over you, greedily taking in the fact it was him to accomplish it without even having to do anything. In seconds he's gripping your jaw and having you look at him as he places another searing kiss against your lips. You're sloppily meeting him halfway there with no doubt that his tongue has all the right to overpower yours. Your hands are lost in his hair whilst his are impatiently ripping off your clothes ready to take you under the moonlight. 

A line of saliva connects you two when he pulls away, the small connection popping when he licks his lips. Your mouth and skin tasted so sweet, that he'd have to remind himself to eat you out next time, preferably somewhere more romantic and private.

The male on top of you grunts as the cool air of the night hits his now exposed schlong, the naked member twitching at the sensation. It was a reminder that he needed it in somewhere warm and his solution was right in front of him. He groans once the scent of your fresh arousal hits his nose, it now being stronger than ever with your hot cunny in line of sight for him. You were a sight to behold, truly. Skin littered with his bite marks, a light sheen of sweat coating your skin and your pussy dripping in need for him. 

"Do you want it?" Kirishima asks with a growl in his voice. You had just come down from an orgasm and he didn't want to rush you.

"Give it to me, Eiji." 

He doesn't have the balls to play with you anymore and gets straight to it. He presses his bulbous head against your opening, rubbing it up and down your pussy lips as he tries to loosen you up. "Relax."

You bite your bottom lip and try to do as told, eyes glued to his raging hard cock. You hadn't seen a cock before now but you were a hundred percent sure this was the prettiest you have and will ever see. You shiver when he pokes his tip at your clit, the sensitivity from before making you squirm. Your eyes flicker up as you watch him spit on his cock for more lubrication, mixing the substance with your arousal and his precum to make it easier for you to take. 

"I'm going in--fuck." Kirishima breathes out as he inserts his dick into your gummy walls, the squeezing around him has him reeling in pleasure. With no remorse, he grips the back of your thighs and presses them against your body in a mating press, a deep groan rumbling in his chest as your cunt swallows his cock in this position. He tilts his head back as he slowly and surely rocks the rest of his length into your awaiting cunt, the ecstasy he was experiencing had never been felt before. It was almost reminiscent of the first time he had lost his virginity except this felt exponentially better. 

His hands nearly rip your shirt open to show your breasts to him, the restriction of your clothes around your breasts making them perk up for him. He licks his lips as your nipples harden even more at the attention. Your tits bounce with each thrust as he slowly tries to ease himself in, his excitement making it hard for him to stay patient. 

Your breathy moans are the only thing he can hear and focus on, totally zoning out on anything around him. Everything about you felt too good. The way you wrapped around his cock, how your hands gripped at him, the desperation in your voice, and the way that you felt under his hands was intoxicating. Kirishima had been waiting for this for so long and he could finally have it, have you. With patience, he was able to start rocking his hips faster and deeper into your cunt. The lewd noise of your pussy squelching with every thrust encouraged him to do more, to fuck you more passionately. 

His lips were busy marking up your skin not caring about the complaining you might have for later. Earlier when he was eagerly trying to take off your clothes he tried his best not to rip your clothes off but there was no guarantee his (kind) gesture came to fruition. That minuscule dilemma will be something to deal with when you both get there. 

His hand dips down to mindlessly play with your sensitive bean, humming in satisfaction when it elicits a sharper moan from you. You're grinding your hips against his with vigor, body shameless in the pleasure it receives from him. Your eyes could barely focus on anything specific as the male you once considered a friend completely obliterates your cunt. Tears prickle at your eyes as you start to feel an intense sensation that washed over your body not too long ago.

"E-Eiji," You pant out, head lifting lightly from the wood. 

Kirishima's head immediately lifts from your skin and looks up at you, you two millimeters apart from each other's faces. "You close, babe?" 

You nod frantically and wrap your legs around his waist, locking him in closer. He groans at how well you're able to take him, the new position allowing you to take in his cock fully. He softly coos as you try to stick it out, a pained but pleasured expression adorning your features. 

"Cum on my cock, baby."

The buzzing in your system doesn't die down, everywhere in your body feels as though it's on fire. You're engulfed in everything he gives you and refuse to let this moment go. Your body is raging with white-hot arousal as you come undone with the help of a few thrusts and his fondling. You groan happily as he grips your thighs and presses them against your body again, an unfamiliar swelling at the base of his cock forming at the base of his cock and slamming against your pussy with each thrust. You peek down to see the inflation, a bit of worry rushing into your system. 

Kirishima cusses as he lets go of one of your legs and pulls out, his spunk immediately spilling onto your pubic area and pussy, successfully covering you in his load. You whimper at how much there is, some getting on your clothes and the already defiled tree trunk from the spillage. You felt yucky with all the sweat and fluids and felt like it was prime time to go to sleep. 

You shyly make eye contact with him and let out a nervous giggle, happily welcoming an approaching kiss as he leans in to take your lips against his. You two gradually come down from your high, your body now slumped against the flat surface of the massive cut-down tree. 

You two will figure out what you are later. 

    all rights reserved © do NOT steal, alter or copy this work.

[strangersteddierthings]

My Default's Self-Destruct (Oh, I'm Not Used to Normal)

@nburkhardt, this ones for you, since you've been so excited and patient! Title from Jillian Rossi's Not Used to Normal.

-

There is a doctor in his room, explaining the extent of his injuries to him and his uncle but Eddie quit listening when the doctor had started with it's our recommendation that he not start back on the scent blocker until-. Whatever the doc had to say after that was more for Wayne's benefit than his own, anyway. Eddie turns his face away from Uncle Wayne and the doc and stares at the wall.

Eddie knows he's a freak.

He never had an option to be anything else.

He was born wrong, a thing his dad would remind him of every time he was deep in his cups and feeling angry or bitter. Which is to say, he'd heard it every day until he was fourteen and, with his mom long gone and his dad's new prison sentence, he was shipped off to Hawkins, Indiana to live with his uncle.

It gave him a choice for the first time in his life.

It was salvation.

No one here knew a damn thing about him except what he wanted them to know. He got to curate his image exactly how he wanted it.

Loud, bold, mean, scary.

Anything that kept people at a distance because he wanted them to be. That's not to say he didn't let people get close. That he didn't have friends. He does.

He founded Hellfire sophomore year and made acquaintances with fellow nerds and geeks. Some stuck around, genuinely seemed to like him and he them, so he got some real friends out of it. Jeff, Frankie, and Gareth.

The only three people in the world who knew about him because he'd chosen to tell them.

But now with this doctor not wanting him to get back on his scent blockers as soon as possible, the whole town's going to know how much of a freak he really is.

His gut twists thinking about how Erica, Lucas, Max, Dustin, Nancy, Robin, and Steve already know. They have to know. Why else are they not here? There's no way they don't by now. Scent blockers need to be taken every day to work effectively. Missing a day every now and then is fine when Eddie knows he's not going to leave home or if it's just the guys he'd be seeing.

But he's missed sixteen days because today is April 7th, and he'd spent most of the prior three days fading in and out of consciousness trying to claw his way out of a coma. Now he's fully alert and aware. He'd woken up alone, but it wasn't long after that his uncle showed up, apparently summoned by a nurse.

"-ddie. Eddie, you still awake?" Wayne's voice is gentle in a way it never usually it. It makes Eddie want to pretend to be asleep.

"Yeah."

"The doc just left."

Eddie doesn't respond verbally. but he does turn his head back to look at Wayne instead of the wall.

"There's a boy down in the lobby. Been tryin' ta visit every day but, well," Wayne trails off with a one shoulder shrug, which seems the easier way to sum up all the events that place while he was in a coma. Wayne apparently making a fuss when the hospital finally got a hold of him and he'd come into Eddie's room to find his unconscious body handcuffed to the bed. No one's been around to explain the how or why to Eddie, but supposedly ten days after Eddie should have died, three days before he awoke for the first time, the "real" murderer was found and died in a gunfight with the police. Eddie's been pardoned, by some miracle.

"Why wasn't he allowed to visit?" Eddie asks, even as he dreads the answer.

"No visitor for murder suspects except family," Wayne says.

"Okay. But I was proven innocent six days ago."

"I know. This last week's been me. I told the staff no one but me could see ya until ya were awake enough to name 'em. Didn't know if that boy who led the manhunt was gonna try and get in, or send someone else after ya."

Warmth floods through Eddie then, both affection for his uncle and a hope that, maybe, no one's been here because they haven't been allowed to be. Maybe they don't- maybe they'll give him a chance even though he's a genetic freak of nature.

"Is it Dustin Henderson?"

"Nah, ain't him. He's been by as much as his ma will allow, though. Sits down there with the first boy."

If it's not Dustin then- "Steve?"

Wayne gives a one-sided grin before saying, "Steve Harrington Sir, if you wanna full name him."

That gets a laugh from Eddie. Wayne hates to be called sir, and he spent a full year calling Jeff 'Just Jeff Sir' when Jeff had made the mistake of correcting Eddie's introduction ("And this here, is Jeffery") while trying to be polite ("Please, it's just Jeff, sir."). Seems like Steve made the same mistake.

"Oh, fuck, don't make me laugh," Eddie wheezes, more from pain than laughter and Wayne looks only a little guilty for causing him pain. "But, uh, yeah. Steve's a-okay."

"Alright. I'll go let the nurse know. Anyone else you wan' ta come see ya?"

"Wait," Eddie says quickly, swallowing thickly. He has to know. "Do- have they... said anything? About me?"

"About you? What- oh," Wayne says. "Did they not know?"

Eddie shakes his head. "No. Not- I didn't tell them, but I haven't had a scent blocker since the first day of spring break. They have to know, right? Everyone always knows."

"Do you want me to ask before gettin' them approved to visit?" Wayne asks, softly and sincere and it makes Eddie's eyes water. He closes them to prevent the tears.

"No. It's fine. Better to, uhh, get this over with. Learn if this will change anything, y'know?"

"And you wanna start with Steve Harrington Sir? He's an alpha, ain't he?"

"Don't act like you don't already know. Everyone and their mother talks about how alpha he smells. I heard about Steve and his alpha scent before I'd even met the dude."

"Well, no need to be so uppity about it," Wayne grouses.

"Sorry. Guess I'm just... not in the mood to joke about this. People don't- they change how they treat me, once they know."

"Just Jeff didn't, nor Gareth or Frankie."

"Yeah, but they were my friends first. I- they saved my life but that doesn't make us friends."

Wayne shakes his head. "You tell that to the boy sittin' in the lobby right now waitin' to see ya."

That's right. The hope that has bloomed earlier. If they did know, they were still around. Either because they are his friends and they care, or they have... questions, possibly. Still, "You'll be in here? When he comes in?"

"I won't leave unless you ask me to," Wayne assures and then he's gone. Out the door, to retrieve Steve.

Jesus Christ, this is fucked. Eddie feels so anxious and scared and he shouldn't. He's never been afraid before. Just. Fed up with how people treat him. How they scrunch their noses when they smell him. When they look at the whole of him and realize there's something wrong with him and their expression changes to either pity or disgust.

Wayne's gone just long enough for Eddie to regret his decision but then it's too late. The first person to enter his room is Steve, followed closely why Wayne.

"Eddie!" Steve says, and Eddie is confused. Steve sounds... awed? A bit breathless like he's witnessed a miracle.

"Hey Steve," Eddie manages to squeak out and that's all the permission Steve seems to need. He crosses the room quickly, dragging a second chair from the corner with him to the opposite side of the bed from where Wayne has taken up station.

"Fuck, Eddie, we didn't know if you'd- but you did. You're awake," Steve says, even as he's trying to sniff the air. Probably trying to get a read on Eddie's own scent, and therefore his own emotional state. When Steve doesn't find what he's looking for, his brows furrow into confusion, and he looks so fucking adorable with his face scrunched like that. He's glad Steve can't smell that on him, at least.

"I'm awake," Eddie says.

Steve nods, but his confused face doesn't fade. Instead he sniffs the room more loudly, thoroughly. He looks to Wayne, then back to Eddie. He does that a few times before settling on Eddie.

Eddie sighs heavily. "Go ahead. Ask."

"What? Oh, uh, nothing to ask, I guess. Just thought Wayne would have scented you by now, but I don't smell him on you."

"Yeah. Wayne's nose barely works, so no point in that."

"A fact I'm thankful for every time you'd finally drag out the days old dishes from your room," Wayne quips.

"Hey!" Eddie shoots him a wounded look as his face gets hot. Low blow, old man, he thinks.

"Oh. Do you... not get isolation sickness? Is that rude to ask?" Steve asks.

"I don't get isolation sickness anymore, not since long before you were even born," Wayne answers. He's still hovering by the door, expecting to be dismissed by Eddie probably, since Steve's not- since Steve doesn't seem to- Eddie doesn't know. Is he too nice to ask out right? Too disturbed by it to even bring it up?

"And, uh, isolation sickness could never effect me," Eddie says, biting the bullet, looking at a wrinkle on his blanket instead of at Steve.

"What?" Steve sounds startled by the answer, as if he can't understand. Maybe he doesn't.

"I can't get isolation sickness."

"That doesn't- everyone but childr-" Steve cuts himself off, and Eddie hears more sniffing before his startled by Steve grabbing his arm. He looks up quickly, and sees Wayne move closer from the corner of his eye, as Steve shoves his nose into Eddie's wrist and takes a deep breath. A sound between a whimper and a whine comes from Steve. "But you- What?"

"Steve."

"Eddie, I don't understand?"

Eddie looks to Wayne, who raises his brows as if to ask want me to tell him? He almost nods, but this is going to be the first of many conversations, and he might as well get the practice in. "Steve. You can only get isolation sickness after your secondary gender develops. I can't. 'Cause I don't have a secondary gender."

Steve blinks at him. Then blinks some more. He opens his mouth, then closes it and blinks even more. "I- how- what? It hasn't developed yet?"

Eddie groans in frustration. "No, Steve. It won't develop ever. I don't have one, I won't have one! No scent gland will ever grow, no second puberty as my body changes to be able to send and receive emotional signals, no bonding gland to establish pack or mate!"

"Wha-"

"Don't! What aren't you getting? I'm a genetic fucking freak of nature who can't ever bond with pack or a mate because I don't have a secondary gender!"

Steve jerks back at Eddie's sudden outburst, "Sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't- I wasn't trying to, uhh, offend."

Eddie scoffs and looks away. He wants to roll onto his side, put his back to Steve and block him out. Offend. Eddie's not offended. He's- fuck, he's sad and scared and angry. Because he spent a week flirting freely with Steve, who'd started to flirt back and now it's all back to just being a fantasy in Eddie's mind.

Steve's an alpha. Even if... even if he ever might have entertained the idea of being with Eddie, that's going to be gone now. Alpha's want omega's. They'll settle for a beta, sure, but that's what it is. Settling.

And Eddie's not even that.

He's nothing. No secondary gender, no place in society, he'll always smell like a goddamn child to everyone else. He knows how this goes. Until he's back on the scent blockers, which just make him smell like chemicals, they're going to treat him like a child, or like a pariah.

"Eddie-" Steve says, quiet.

Whatever it is, Eddie doesn't want to hear it. "I'm tired. I hurt. Please leave."

Eddie stares at a spot on the wall as Wayne escorts Steve from his room. He doesn't let himself cry until after counting to thirty in his head once the door's closed.

@i-less-than-three-you @afewproblems @skepsiss

[fjorests-of-wildemount]

I have talked quite a bit about this in the past, but given where we are in the campaign now and what has just happened, I wanted to put down some thoughts in a maybe, hopefully coherent kind of way. Mostly the thoughts chase each other around in my head going “brrrrr” so here’s hoping they cooperate.

Since we have known him, Orym has been on a Mission. When he first linked up with the Crown Keepers he had been on the road, presumably on his own, for at least four years, possibly five. At some time during those years, Keyleth charged him with finding out information on the attack that killed Will and Derrig to make sense of what happened that day. Early on he’s quiet, thoughtful, reluctant to take the lead, and honorable to a fault. Even as he opens himself up to create connections with this motley crew, he still guards part of himself. In fact, in the time we see them together he never tells the Crown Keepers about his family. The only mention we get is when he is asked by the Wildmother if he will continue on and Orym says, “For him, I will.”

None of this is to say he doesn’t feel connected to his friends, who manage to take him on a journey away from his primary directive, and–given the fact that Orym was alone at the beginning of ExU–it’s safe to say these are the first people he’s connected with in a long time. It was while he was with them that he started practicing the Zeph’aeratam again. Being part of the group with Opal and Dariax and Fearne and Dorian and Fy’ra showed Orym that the world was bigger than his grief.

But still, he kept it to himself.

After the events of ExU Prime, Orym and his two best friends from the Crown Keepers, Dorian and Fearne, went back to Zephrah. A place that I would argue Orym probably had returned to seldom, if not never, since Will and Derrig’s deaths. It was sometime during this journey that Orym told them both about his family, likely the first people from outside of Zephrah to know their names and what they meant to him. These friends went with him to continue his Mission, to try to help him get closure. And when Dorian left, Orym kept hold of the means to keep in touch, because Orym had gotten closer to Fearne and Dorian than he had gotten to anyone since he lost his family.

I would love to know what, if any, kind of conversations Orym had with Dorian and Fearne about Will and Derrig, especially Will. Because as the weeks went on, Orym did forge bonds with Bell’s Hells, he did start to tell more people about the ones he’d lost, but always at a distance. He kept the memories of who Will and Derrig were to himself, even as he was honest about how much he missed them. Did Orym take the chance to tell Dorian and Fearne about what they were like when they were alive? Because it’s clear that Orym is bereft, and angry, and lonely, and goes to sleep every night with them in his thoughts. Is there anyone else alive who knows the secrets of what Will and Orym were like when they were together, just the two of them?

There is nothing secret about the pain and anger he feels, but what about the joy?

The Mission as it was originally put to Orym is over now. They know everything about how and why Zephrah was attacked. That doesn’t mean Orym is stopping, because Orym isn’t the kind of person who could stop when someone is in danger. But the single-minded drive toward Otohan, toward answers and justice or whatever Orym thinks Will and Derrig would have wanted from him in this, was the mortar Orym used to build up his walls. He’s standing on a precipice of a vast future and he’s alone because he has made himself alone. His grief has made him alone. And there are so many complicated reasons why Dorian is the one he is finally, actually reaching out to now that there is no more path to shuffle down. 

I’m not sure if Orym even knows who he is anymore without this grief, without this Mission. In his mid-thirties his whole adult life has been spent married to Will, or grieving Will, or searching for answers for Will’s death. In the middle of the world ending, how do you decide what comes next?

A million episodes ago Orym offered to be the one Imogen could lean on, and then, after she walked away, he reached out to Dorian on the Sending Stone. I think Dorian has been the one Orym thought that he could lean on for a long while now. And I think that is intrinsically tied to his Mission, this journey, and his grief.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I reminded a friend he owes me money?

@aitathrowaway321 for finding later

I (20s, they/them) lent a friend Johnny (fake name. 20s, he/him) about $300 for rent about a year and a half ago. He was panicking because he'd bought a small tattoo that week, and had thought he'd budgeted for rent, but realized he forgot about another bill.

I'd once not had enough for rent and a friend who wasn't well off, without me asking, had offered to lend me the money for rent. It had been an incredibly kind act, and though I'd paid that friend back a few months later the first second I could, I've always remembered it. So I offered to do the same to Johnny (who knew this story) as a sort of pay-it-forward and that he could just pay me back when he was able, no rush at all. I also at the time had an okay job where I made enough to be able to do this, and Johnny's job was pretty awful.

Johnny was very thankful and agreed. At first, he'd bring up the debt a lot himself (I would never bring it up) and continually promise to pay it when he could, to which I'd be like - just as soon as you comfortably can, don't stress! And he mentioned it A LOT. Multiple times every single time I saw him at first. But eventually he stopped mentioning it entirely.

The two of us had this in-joke, and Johnny realized he could buy something related to the in-joke. He swore he'd buy it for me as a birthday gift (I didn't ask) and it would be so much fun, very soon after I lent him money. It would have been a nice gift, but it would've cost at least $200. In my head I decided that if he decided to get me the gift instead of paying me back I'd be happy either way, bc it's nice to be thought of. All I said aloud was that it would be a lot of fun, and it was a very kind thought from him. He would then regularly bring up buying me this gift for months. Then my birthday passed and I didn't get anything at all from him. Which was fine, I didn't ask for gifts! But then he stopped bringing up buying me anything OR paying back the money.

Now it's been almost a year and a half, and he seems to have entirely forgotten he ever owed me. I wouldn't mind so much - times are hard! - and it's not like I'm going to be angry if someone is spending money on nice dinners and pretty clothes instead of saving up for a no-deadline debt to a friend. People need to have nice things to get through life. But he keeps getting new tattoos and piercings (we go to the same parlor, I know they're pricey) and he recently planned and went on a big trip with a friend. It's not as if he hasn't had the ability to pay me back in the last few years. I also got laid off from my job, and $300 is a lot more to me than it used to be.

It's not so much that I want the money back as it is that I'm hurt he spent so much time talking big about paying me, and then when enough time had passed just dropped it entirely. I've had an issue in the past when after I got an okay job, suddenly people who had ghosted me were begging me for money (didn't know my salary but just assumed bc of the job title). And having been in awful situations, I tried to help where I could anyway, but then after getting the money they'd ghost me again. Johnny hasn't ghosted me, but he seems to have decided not to pay me back and pretend it never happened.

We have an event coming up where people will be paying for things and everyone else will be paying them back immediately - just bc it's easier to do things like buy tickets all at once and then pass them out, and easier for a restaurant to have one bill and then people venmo each other after. I was considering having Johnny pay and then tell him he can take it out of his debt to me.

I'm unsure if this is passive aggressive and rude, or if it's a good way to gently remind him he owes me without being a jerk about money - if he is still just struggling financially and hasn't forgotten, I don't want to rub anything in or make him stressed. I don't want money to ruin a friendship, but I'm feeling hurt.

[sweetandgentlecreature]

First Light

Author’s Note: Hey, y’all! Me again! In this installation of Somethin’ Sweet, we’re back to Sy’s point of view. Grab some tissues and join me in my sad girl era. As always, thanks for stopping by! 

Summary: Sy’s up early prepping for deployment and can’t help but relive the events from the night before. 

Pairing: Captain Syverson x Female OC 

Warnings:  sexual content; nipple play, p-in-v intercourse, descriptions of male and female anatomy, explicit language, and adult themes. I am an adult, and due to the nature of this content, all works created by me will be rated for those 18 years and older. Minors, DNI.

Playlist

It never rains in Texas, but it did on the morning of Sy’s inevitable departure. Heavy clouds hung low in the sky as an early morning fog rolled in through the treeline. Bright, angry streaks of lightning raced across the sky and casted shadows through the room. A loud crash of thunder shook the old tin roof and startled him awake. In his moment of panic, Sy sat up straight and knocked the headboard into the wall behind the bed with a loud crack. It took him a second to recognize his surroundings in the dark, but once he did, he breathed a sigh of relief. A quick glance at the alarm clock on the nightstand beside him made his shoulders drop. 4:45am. Sy reached out and turned it off, as not to disturb his lover tucked so sweetly beneath the quilt beside him. That girl could sleep through a hurricane. A little fall of rain wouldn’t bother her much. Leaving over, he kissed the top of her head and lingered there, but only for a moment. Long enough to memorize the way she smelled. Honeysuckle and vanilla. Fuck, he’ll miss her.

Sy moved to plant his feet on the floor and ran a hand down his tired face. The last two weeks have been…a little less than ideal. It was his fault, really. He’d gotten the orders to ship out almost a month ago, but waited a while to tell her about them. He didn’t know what to say or how to say it. Things were just getting good here. Things were still so fun and new, but as always, Uncle Sam had other plans for him. 

The first person he told was his mama. When he did, she barely flinched. Sy made the third generation of Syverson men who’d stormed courageously into war. His daddy served in Vietnam, his papaw in World War II. When duty called, they answered. It wasn’t easy, watching him walk out the door, never knowing if he’ll make it home again, but she’d made peace with it by now. “What good does it do fer me ta’ worry? Either you’ll come back, or ya wont. It’s in the Lord’s hands now.”  

Sy trod lightly off to the bathroom to start the shower. The room filled with steam, just enough to fog the mirror as stood beneath the steady stream and let it run over his head. Staring down at his feet, he let the water consume him. Heavy drops clung to his lashes, but he didn’t bother to blink them away. His mind was somewhere else. With someone else.  

__

Sy had always been a steak-and-potatoes kinda guy, but he’d barely touched his plate. Every bite felt too heavy in his stomach, like he’d traded out his ribeye for a hunk of lead instead. She’d spent so much time cooking for him, springing for only the best of meat and the freshest produce the grocery store had to offer. The least he could do was clear his plate. Lord knew when he’d get another meal like this again. 

Once he’d managed to choke it down, he stood and started grabbing dishes to take to the sink, but she stopped him quickly. She’d barely said a word all night, and her interjection almost startled him. “No, baby,” she whispered, taking the plate from his hands. “Let me get those.”

Merrin kept her back to him as she filled the kitchen sink with hot, soapy water. Steam fogged the window above as she drifted off in thought. She was a million miles away from here, swimming in regret and longing for just a little more time. There was so much to do, so much to say, but the words never came out right. She hadn’t even realized she was crying until the tears began to blur her vision. Closing her eyes, she gave in and let them spill down her face. She’d fought so hard to keep her distance. To brace herself for the inevitable. In the end, she’d fallen hard. Harder than she’d ever expected to; head over heels and still tumbling. She braced herself against the sink and let her head hang low, covering her mouth to muffle the sobs that bubbled up from her trembling chest.

When a hand reached out to touch her shoulder, she gasped. Looking up again, Merrin stared into the reflection of his eyes in the pane of glass before them. Calloused fingertips brushed her hair to the side, then traced along the side of her delicate throat. His voice was low and deep, a rumbling baritone pressed against her back as he broke the silence. 

“I’m not gone yet. Gimme one more night. Just one more night, alone with you.” 

Merrin sniffled softly, wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and nodded. From there, Sy wasted no time. Most of the dishes made it into the sink, but a broken glass was the last thing on his mind when he placed her onto the countertop. Shoving his way between her open knees, his lips were hot and harsh as they crashed into hers. If she didn’t know any better, she might think he was angry with her. In truth, Sy was angry; angry at their situation, angry at the world, but not at her. Never at her. 

He grabbed her up, one hand on the back of the neck and the other wrapped around her thigh, squeezing with a force hard enough to leave a bruise. The pain turned into pleasure, the aggression turned to lust, and Merrin returned the favor with shared fervor. She wasn’t scared of him. On the contrary, she relished in his smothering presence, digging perfectly manicured nails into the meat of his shoulder as she drew him in just as close. Her mouth worked with his in a haphazard clash of teeth and tongue. Even in the mess, there was still beauty to be found. She was soft and sweet where he was rough and hungry. A yin to a yang, souls intertwined as one.

His shirt hit the floor first, and her sundress followed soon after. Merrin grabbed him by the belt and yanked until his hips pressed sharply into her own. They worked together to loosen the buckle and pop the button beneath it, ripping it from the loops and tossing it away to clatter to the floor. Rough hands came up to cup her breasts, bare and warm, a perfect fit for each palm. He squeezed gently and smirked against her neck, relishing in her pleads for more.

“Clay,” she whispered, clinging to him as he dropped his head to nuzzle against one hardened nipple, then the other. Always one to please, he licked his lips and welcomed one into his mouth. He took his time, gazing up through thick lashes as he moved from one breast to the other. She looked like an angel, basking in the glow of the sunset that poured in around her. But Merrin was no saint, far from it, and couldn’t stand his temptation for long. She let a hand fall between them to meet the bulge in his jeans and palmed it gently. She could almost feel the ache beneath the distressed denim; a steady, throbbing need that seeked relief that only she could provide. The words came before she could stop them. “Fuck me, Clay.”

Sy mumbled a gruff “Yes ma’am” into the flesh of her breasts and tugged himself free from his boxers. Never one to keep his lady waiting, he hooked a finger into the gusset of her panties and pulled them to the side. The sight of her wet heat made his mouth water. Any other time, he’d drop to his knees right then and there to have his fill, but it wasn’t what they needed the most right now. Right now, he needed to be inside of her, just as much as she needed to feel him there. He held the base of his erection and traced the swollen head through her folds, mouth agape and almost drooling as his eyes rolled to the back of his head in ecstasy. 

“Fuck, honey. So wet for me.” 

She gasped when the tip of his cock caught at her slick opening. The delicious burn from the stretch she felt as he pushed forward inside of her stole the breath from her lungs. They both watched as he crossed the threshold and buried himself deep inside of her. Breathy moans and whimpers of lust echoed through the room, and Sy took a moment to let her catch her breath again. 

“Fuck, baby…”

She met his gaze once more, eyes wide and full of fire as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for another kiss. Sy tangled his fingers in the hair at the nape of her neck, choosing to indulge her for a while, until he just couldn’t take it anymore. His retreat was nice and slow, but he didn’t pull out all of the way. Tugging her head back roughly, he buried his face in the crook of her neck and relished in the way she tensed around him. Nipping at her throat, he growled against her pulse and smirked. “So tight, honey. I’m not gonna last long.” 

She answered with the rake of her nails down his back, leaving tender, pink lines in their wake, then dug them into the flesh of his bare ass. Shoving herself back onto his cock, she groaned loudly. 

“Don’t tease me, Clay. I need you.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. With a harsh thrust of his hips, he bottomed out completely. Sy held her down by the waist as he took what he wanted from her. In and out, over and over, he pounded into her with a fervor she’d never seen before. Their lust was wild and sinful as he stood there at the counter and fucked her into a mindless mess. A familiar tightness built somewhere deep in her gut, and before she could warn him, she was coming undone. Her eyes filled with tears, filled with so much emotion, then spilled down her cheeks in hot, furious streams. 

It didn’t stop there. He had her again on the couch, and again against the front door, then once more upstairs in their room. The bed creaked under their shifting weight. Sweat poured from his face as he held one of her legs over his shoulder. Merrin clung to the sheets beneath her as he approached another climax. Just when she thought she couldn’t handle any more, he proved her wrong. 

“Come on, sugar,” he begged, wiped his brow with the back of his hand and picked up the pace. “Gimme one more. Just one more.”

He’d been saying that for hours, but this time, he was telling the truth. His muscles ached and cramped, his body pleaded with him to give it up, but he was determined to make this a night to remember. He’d be gone for God knows how long; he wanted to make sure she’d had her fill before he left. Sy kept his promise and within seconds, he crashed over the edge of climax right along with her. Chests heaving and voices hoarse, they rode out their highs together and collapsed into a heap of tangled limbs. Sy stared up at the ceiling as he fought to regain composure and felt her curl up against his side.  “Shit.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

Merrin held up a hand up and they smacked palms, victorious in their conquest. All qualms were forgotten, at least for a little while. 

“High five.”

“Good sex.”

__

Standing at the sink, a towel wrapped around his waist, Sy stared at himself in the mirror. He scratched at his chin and turned his head from side to side, then flipped the switch on the side of the clippers. The first pass up the underside of his chin took off most of the length. He dusted a tuft of fuzz from the guards and let it fall into the basin before him. Sy made quick work of taking it all off, then grabbed the shaving cream to smooth over the stubble left behind. He moved with a surgeon's precision, each drag of the razor taking away the foam and leaving baby-smooth skin behind. Once he was finished, he bent down and filled his hands with warm water to wash his face. Just as he reached for the aftershave in the medicine cabinet, two delicate arms wrapped around his middle and squeezed gently. He brought one of them up and pressed her knuckles to his lips, kissing them as he spoke.

“What’re you doin’ up?”

Merrin yawned against his back and nuzzled her face there. Her eyes were heavy with the sleep that she just couldn’t shake. He reached back to run his fingers through her hair, twirling and twisting strands of amber around calloused fingertips as they stood in a shared silence. She raked her nails through the hair on his chest and dug them into hardened flesh, putting up a weak fight to keep him there for just a little while longer. “Couldn’t sleep,” was all she said as another roll of thunder echoed somewhere off in the distance. Sy glanced back at her from over his shoulder and found her staring up at him. She traced his cheekbone and down to the line of his jaw, mesmerized by the clean-shaven stranger who stood before her now. 

“Most men grow a beard to hide their faces. You, though…” she pressed her thumb into the dimple on his chin. “You’ve got nothing to hide.” 

She left him there with a gentle pat to the chest, then turned to head back into the bedroom. He watched her as she went, wearing nothing but the cheeky little splash of ink that was tatted across the dimples on her lower back and the panties that rested beneath them. A drunken mistake from Spring Breaks of old, left to peak from beneath low-rise jeans as a reminder of wilder days. Sy chuckled to himself and shook his head. He could hardly handle her now; if they’d met back then, he could only imagine the trouble she’d get him into. She’d have eaten him alive. 

__

To his dismay, traffic was fairly light on their way to the airport. The skies above were a dusty shade of blue, vast and empty as the rising sun chased away the rain. Fields of wheat and grain blurred past on either side as they left their sleepy little town in the rear view. Sy drove with one hand on the wheel and the other resting in her lap. Every now and then he’d hold her thigh, knead and squeeze, then cut his eyes from the road and over to her in silent reassurance. Every radio station from here to Houston seemed to play nothing but love songs, and each one salted the wound just a little bit more. Merrin tried to surf from station to station, genre to genre, but eventually gave up, so they rode in silence instead. 

Sy didn’t mind the quiet. It felt more honest than anything he could say now. “It’ll be alright, honey.” “We’ll write every day.” “I’ll be home before you know it.” He couldn’t guarantee anything, and they both knew that. 

Once they’d made it past security, Sy found a bench to sit on and dropped his bag at his feet. When he looked over to her, she was staring off somewhere in the distance, a million miles away again. To her, this felt like punishment. Like the universe had nothing better to do than shit on the best relationship she’d ever had. Karma had finally caught up to her, and this was how she was meant to pay for her transgressions. 

“This isn’t fair.”

Clayton sighed and took her hand into his. “I’m sorry, darlin’. Life isn’t–” She cut him off. 

“Don’t you dare tell me that life isn’t fair. I know life isn’t fair. This is…” Merrin shook her head. “This is cruel.” 

He tried to smile, to crack a joke, to lighten the mood, but one look at her shut it all down. She was right. He’d been on the verge of hanging it up, of finally giving in and taking that cushy desk job at base to be closer to his mama, but his pride had gotten in the way. He knew he had at least one more deployment in him. One more, and he’d give it up for good. He just wasn’t expecting it to be so soon. 

Everything had changed, now that he had Merrin. She was everything that he wasn’t. Gentle, but not easy to mislead; Stubborn, but only when necessary;  Kind-hearted to those in need; and so fucking sweet. Now, he fought for her. If this it took to keep her safe, he’d do it in a heartbeat. Now, he had someone worth fighting for.

Wrapping her up tightly, Sy held her to his chest and buried his face in her hair. He pressed a fierce kiss to the top of her head and let his eyes close for a moment. They held each other just like that until his flight was called. Then they walked the Green Mile all the way down to the gate, where he pulled her aside and took her hands into both of his. His eyes searched hers desperately in a last ditch effort to commit them to memory. Shades of blue and green, specks of gold around the iris, as wild as the tide and as vast as the sea. When he kissed her, it was deep and lascivious. He didn’t care who saw. Fuck ‘em. Let them look. Sy broke his kiss and pressed his forehead to hers, dug the end of his crooked nose into her cheek and breathed her in for as long as he could. 

“I love you, Merrin Paige. More than you’ll ever know.” 

His words stole the breath from her chest. Three little words she never expected to hear him say. Three little words that paralyzed her, right where she stood. He kissed her cheek one last time, grabbed his bags, and headed off to catch his flight. Merrin watched from the window as the plane taxied at the end of the runway. A light drizzle began to sputter outside, just enough to blur her vision as the plane disappeared high into the clouds. Just like that, he was gone. 

It never rains in Texas, but it did on the morning of Sy’s inevitable departure. It never rains in Texas, and today, Merrin hated the rain. 

__

Far from home, Sy checked his watch as he waited for the line to ring. Static crackled in his ear as he cradled the phone between his head and his shoulder. 2pm in Baqubah; 10pm in Houston. If he was right, she’d still be up. Probably curled up in bed with a book, one of those dirty little romances she liked so much. Leaning back in his chair, he stretched and moaned. If Texas was hot, then this was hell. 

Then, a click. The old desk chair groaned when he sat up straight. He listened for a moment, waiting for someone to answer, then checked the signal to make sure that the call had gone through. Fuck. Don’t let it be the answering machine. 

“Sy?” a sweet voice chirped over the static. He sighed, relieved, and smiled widely at the sound of his name. 

“Yeah, baby,” he breathed. “It's me. How’s it–”

She cut him off. What she had to say couldn’t wait. 

“I love you too.” 

__

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[stomach-bugg09]

hiii,i saw that requests ante open and was wondering if we can get a fali fic? 🫢 I don’t really mind/have a preference for what it’s about but maybe angst with some fluff at the end??? idek you’re the writer so you can choose, that’s basically it, and btw your fics are lush!! i love themm

thankyouuu <3

a/n: okay, hey !! took me a lil bit to ponder this idea and what would be the best approach , but i think this suits it with a lil bit of angst and then some comforting fluff. thanks so much for the kind words !! please, please, please comment feedback + reblog ( everything's easier when you have the motivation of your readers )

summary: fali is recovering from the bullet he took to save neteyam, but he's never been very patient.

tags: @rafeslovergirl @wxnderingthoughts @liyahsocorro @bonnibuckets @hjkshshjkhklhkl @theycallmesia @grierpilots @23victoria @nyotamalfoy @gcldtom

healing is hard

after eighteen years of existing, fali was never once considered patient. even when young, his mother could recall the numerous times where she scolded the poor na’vi for not waiting for her or his father before he dove right into the reef. she could also recall the way her heartbeat would flare when he let out a mischievous feat of laughter followed by a loud splash.

she had to say, though, that she would much prefer those small spikes of fear over the moment in which she witnessed tsireya speeding back atop her ilu, a limp body draped in front of her. 

vi’ieo and fpai had just been discussing the whereabouts of their son in concerned, hushed tones when they heard the olo’eyktan’s daughter yell, “help! it is fali!”

nothing could prepare either parent for the rush of nausea and dread that flooded their bodies at those four words; if they weren’t thankful for ronal beforehand, they owed their lives to her. no mother wants to experience the unforgiving event that it the loss of a child.

not again, at least. not after they lost what was supposed to be their first baby girl just before she was born. 

but now… now fali was okay. or, getting to it, at least. he was alive, and he was healed, but he still hurt. every movement he made, everytime he attempted to go through with tasks that he used to consider as easy if not daily.

he couldn’t even walk to the edge of the shore and back without help from someone else.

after being raised the only child of his parents and the supposed older brother to tsireya and ao’nung ( and then eventually rotxo ), fali picked up so many subconscious habits. he was reliable, he was independent, he was strong. now he was reliant, dependent, weak. he didn’t feel like fali te auahi fpai’itan.

everybody around the healing na’vi felt his frustration. they felt this sadness, his mourning of who he used to be. they felt the anger that surged through his body at the limited movement his left arm and leg now possessed after the bullet just barely impacted his spine enough to cause mobility issues.

it hurt. it hurt him, it hurt them, it hurt everyone.

and fpai and vi’ieo also missed the child he used to be. the child he was before he grew up, the child he was before he became the warrior, the child he was before they let war touch him. before they let war hurt him. but, they would forever be grateful for his mere survival above all else.

while fali saw their perspective, while he recognized the blessing that was his life, he was so sick of it. he was so sick of being thankful, of being gracious for eywa. he wanted his life back! he wanted his arm and leg back! for all he knew, fali would never even see battle again — he would never see the thing that he spent his entire childhood training for.

an impressive warrior whose skills were wasted on an avatar’s stupid bullet.

while everyone else tried to push a positive perspective onto the angry and healing na’vi, [y/n] knew better. she knew that wasn’t an option — not based on his personality, at least.

was she happy he was still alive? well, of course! in fact, she often jumped awake in the middle of the night and pressed a hand to his chest from where she slept right next to him, checking that he was still breathing. checking that he was still there.

but, [y/n] could never expect him to share the same exact outlook that she did, and she could never pretend to understand what he was struggling with. that would just be a lie, and she could never lie to him. not to her love.

so, instead of trying to get him to rest every time he stood up, instead of stopping him before he limped out of the marui, she gave him a soft smile and a nod. and then, of course, a wink followed by words meant only to push buttons ( which would hopefully only motivate him to success ), “scream if you need anything.”

he would roll his eyes, waddle out, and after about five minutes, [y/n] would be outside the marui. her eyes would be caught on his figure in the distance, oftentimes leaned up against a tree or paused while trying to catch his breath.

sometimes, although her heart shattered the most during these moments, he would be paused with his makeshift cane in hand, back hunched as sobs echoed through the breeze.

but [y/n] knew better than to barge in. she knew that, as much as every part of her body and soul itched to go and help him — to insist that it would be okay — it was only up to fali to decide whether or not that would be true.

it was only once, though, that [y/n] came running to him.

he’d been walking, small grunts of frustration heard all the way from where [y/n] stood. her gaze was soft against his back full of tattoos, scars, and muscles that she knew all too well.

and then, in a split second, everything broke.

the na’vi before her let out a yell of fury before throwing his cane into the sand, knees shaking as he fell onto them. the soft, wet sand was imprinted with his weight, allowing him to dip an inch shorter. 

[y/n] feet started moving before her mind did, practically running down the wooden docks and through the sand. the squishy substance tickled between her toes at each new step, until eventually she strut right past the tearful na’vi and grabbed his cane.

she spun around on her heel, looking him right in the eye, and she extended her arm towards him. the long piece of drift wood he’d adapted to be his mobile assistant faced him in an offering.

but, just as fali reached up and attempted to take it from [y/n]’s hand, she pulled it away and threw it about ten feet to her right.

stunned, fali blinked at her. “[y/n],” he gasped, shocked. “what are you —”

“get up.”

[y/n] voice was solid, firm. authoritative. all of sudden, fali couldn’t take his glassy eyes away from her, jaw dropped in complete shock due to her attitude. what was she up to? “[y/n],” he tried again, voice soft and shallow due to the sobs that sat at the base of his throat.

she merely shook her head at her healing lover. “no,” she refused. “no, you’re going to get up.”

“i —” he paused, checking his words carefully. “[y/n], what are you doing?”

[y/n] locked his eyes, not once making an effort to assist him in any form. “i’m telling you to get up. get on your feet and walk.”

once more, fali opened his mouth, but this time… this time it shut in a pregnant bubble of silence. instead of arguing any more than he already had, he placed two hands on the ground and attempted to push upwards.

and then, just like that, fali was back in his own head. not once did he realize, as he pushed himself over the edge, that he wasn’t alone, and yet… for the first time ever since he started leaving every afternoon to try and make progress… he was finally able to do it.

by himself.

but he wasn’t by himself. [y/n] was there right next to him, words of encouragement flooding from her lips with every noise of desperation or anguish. everytime he even made a signal of falling back down, more words spilling right into his ears.

and soon, before he even knew it, he was standing. by himself.

and his arms were wrapped around the familiar body of [y/n]. the same warmth he adored every night. the same build that made him feel safe. the same na’vi that made him rethink every part of his life.

he could have never made it without her. anywhere. not just to a new point in his recovery, but he couldn’t have made it to the person he considered himself to be then.

fali without [y/n] would be the same arrogant na’vi that pushed ao’nung’s buttons. the same na’vi that made dumb decisions. the same na’vi who prided himself only on his abilities on the battlefield.

with [y/n], he finally realized there was so much more to himself than he ever knew or knew to recognize.

he pressed his face into [y/n]’s hair, the soft strands soaking up his salty tears of joy. his shoulder shook every so slightly, and fali could feel [y/n]’s own trembling body.

it’d been so difficult.

“i’ve been wanting to help, you know,” [y/n] sniffed into his chest. “i just knew it wouldn’t have helped. the last thing i wanted to do was make things more difficult.”

fali swallowed. “i know, yawne, i know.” his voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. he couldn’t manage to summon anything louder, for he was world this beauty of a reality would disintegrate into a dream.

“but,” she continued softly. “i also knew you needed to be open to help. help from me, help from your parents, help from everyone. you can’t do everything alone.”

fali paused, silence overcoming them as he thought. she was right, of course, but he hated that idea. he was already vulnerable with his injuries. the last thing he wanted was pity from anyone else.

“i just…” he trailed. “i’m scared.”

[y/n]’s heart broke, her breath hitching in her throat at the big confession. “that’s okay.” she looked upwards, eyes locking between the two. “it’s okay to be scared.”

“what if i don’t get better?” he admitted, tears creating shiny streaks against his blue cheeks. “what if this is it? what if i can’t fight anymore?”

and then, as shocking as  it was to fali, a laugh bubbled from [y/n]’s throat. he gave her a quizzical look and asked, “what’s funny?”

“well, it’d be fine by me, is all,” she admitted, a smile resting on her lips. “i like it better when i know you're safe and not at war.”

he couldn’t help but feel a smile rise to his own mouth as well. “well, you’d still be fighting.”

she gave him a look that read duh before continuing. “plus, if you do learn to lead the village from the interior… you could be at home.” she paused, shrugging. “if we ever wanted a family and all.”

fali paused, looking into her eyes deeply. suddenly, all he could feel was his stupid grin. “and you couldn’t stay home and care for the kids?” “we’d get a babysitter.”

fali let out a loud laugh, leaning his head down and kissing her square on the lips. “maybe eywa made a good decision.”

[rivkae-winters]

Subterranean Sepulcher

Summary:

Sephiroth survives the Nibelheim incident only to be taken to the labs again. He is once again at Hojo's mercy with no end in sight this time. Then someone leaves the door to his holding cell open. When Sephiroth cannot escape upwards he goes down following a strange twinge in his chest deep below Midgar.

Fun fact that's also in the fic notes: I remember writing the outline and thinking this was nowhere near gay enough for a ship event... Then I re-read my draft and realized it sounded like some high concept film a man who thinks he's straight would make and claim represents 'human connection' or something like that.

Needless to say it came out plenty gay enough.

Also on Ao3

Sephiroth had been more elsewhere than in his own body since Hojo had fished him up from the bottom of the Nibelheim Mako reactor. The days flowed into weeks and the weeks flowed into months and months into years.

His Father had been upset at first, that much Sephiroth could vaguely remember. He'd been more... short of his faculties than in possession of them in the early days he spent in the new lab. 

The visit to the town of Nibelheim was a blur in his memory.

Almost none of the blur that he could recall was pleasant. There were some middlingly pleasant fantasies his mind inserted here and there though. He'd dreamed he'd found his mother. Her face from his photograph had been animated and smiling in his dreams. He'd also had a nightmare that he'd been led to her in the waking world only to find her mangled corpse in a mako tank.

Sephiroth would only accept that as a nightmare and nothing else. He saw it again every other night it felt like but still that's all it was. That needed to be all it was. He held the false pleasant dreams of her russet hair and pale skin closer all the more for it.

He also dreamed of Genesis. Really, he should consider it a nightmare considering they fought and while he couldn't quite hear the words they said he knew they were heavy and awful. The air bleeding betrayal into his mind. But it was Genesis- Angeal was dead and Zack was nowhere to be found so maybe Genesis really was the only one of them left truly alive.

Especially the only one of them with any semblance of freedom.

Genesis could fly himself away from the awful world to one that abhors them less. Sephiroth found himself clinging to the idea as one of the Professor’s technicians played with his nerve capabilities one day, the ulnar nerve exposed to open air. 

It felt nonsensical because he was still angry and hurt and bleeding from the hole their leaving had left in him. He felt like he was a child again, listening to Professor Gast's tapes over and over. Just like that man was no longer here and Sephiroth had even had his death confirmed: Genesis was never guaranteed any happiness. He was dying after all.

Sephiroth tried not to think about that too hard.

The isolation and the constant brain fog were easy to blame for imagining the subject of a very awkward and very unreciprocated 'teenage' crush happy. It was logical even, as much as Sephiroth could focus his mind in the present to think of what was logical these days.

The Professor had him again, only now Sephiroth wasn't an appreciated company asset. No, Sephiroth was an old shoe discarded far more quickly than he'd thought he'd be. He'd been declared killed in action in the Nibelheim mission- that much he was able to glean sometime after the one year mark.

He'd also dreamed of that town too. One second it was crisp cool mountain air and overly nosy townsfolk the next he was watching himself strike down civilians and set the town ablaze. That much Sephiroth knew wasn't a dream.

One of the lab technicians, a woman with a familiar accent, had asked him about it. Her friend was from Nibelheim apparently. Sephiroth had a hunch at that time, as their brief interactions continued, that she was her own 'friend'.

She never said a name and Sephiroth was too busy trying to not be aware of what she was doing to ask. Her presence hurt as he was forced into awareness when she was handling his maintenance and tests the Profesor considered beneath him by her constant address and acknowledgement of his presence. Her announcement of the days especially made it hard to drift- to lose his mind somewhere far away from his body among repeating dreams and nightmares far more pleasant than reality. 

She was gone after two weeks. 

Sephiroth had been fine with that as much as he allowed himself to feel anything. The blatant disgust that then morphed to pity when she interacted with him made him feel like he existed in all the wrong ways. When he existed his skin always felt too small and his metaphorical fangs too large and ready to bite something even though any ‘teeth’ he’d been able to sharpen had long been filed down upon his return. Sephiroth was only a decommissioned weapon here, kept around for further research and troubleshooting. The less he was aware of his state the easier it was to continue to draw breaths each day knowing he wouldn’t be allowed to stop. 

The woman who looked at him with fury that melted into gut-turning pity, had given him an unwanted gift: Nibelheim had burned four years before her coming. It was an anchor laid in his mind, an unwanted point of grounding that disrupted him even further. He tried to push himself to forget as much as he could but he never fully pushed knowledge from his mind.So he let other parts of himself slip a little bit further and a little more out of reach to compensate for it. Eventually ‘four years’ sounded less and less in his mind as the days flowed flowed flowed together again into a meaningless slurry of time passing him by and never taking him with it. 

He continued like that, drifting in and out of awareness and letting time bleed together as much as it desired to so he wouldn’t need to be there for it all. Safely away from the poking and prodding and even the gaps of nothingness in the dark that ate at what was left of his mind. Sequestered in the dark recesses of his mind, as much peace as he’d probably get the rest of his life. 

Then one day, with the faint swirling blare of alarms in the hazy background of his non-existence, Sephiroth’s cell door is left open. 

Something wicked and wild sweeps his awareness so carefully discarded back into his being in an instant.

He only has his enhancements and the fact that his cells do not die easily to thank for his legs not falling out from under him as he skitters to his feet. He has the fact that he was born a monster and will die one to thank for allowing him to break into a run as soon as the possibility of no more has pressed against the walls of his lungs. 

It’s not freedom, he has distanced himself so far from purpose and dreams and honor that he can’t remember the sensation at all, but the animalistic desire to not be beaten any longer. Sephiroth had been taught long ago that freedom is not just being out of the labs but living . Even as he runs, tasting a possible end to his misery, he can't find in himself the will to live again. He does not have wings to fly away from this world in search of another.

He doesn’t try to go up and out, his returned presence of mind prevents that disaster. That is where the scientists have fled and the one thing Sephiroth has known his entire life with the exception of one man is that wherever the scientists are is the opposite of where he wants to be. 

He initially plans to find one of the many holes ShinRa was always plagued with in their security. A place too large for its own good constantly springing new leaks as soon as the old ones were patched. Sephiroth would know. What feels like a lifetime ago he’d been one to potentially help patch them up. He skids to a stop as he reaches the end of the hall just before he hits a wall, the tile floor grating his bare feet from friction. The only thing other than the dead end is a locked door to his left. 

It feels promising and there is a small intoxicating twinge in the back of his mind that raises its hands to reach for him. 

He approaches a door at the far side of the room with a clean handle but dust in all the right places pointing to little use at all. The air behind it smells the freshest of the entire room though. Far too fresh a supply closet or something else stale and small so he rips it off its hinges rather than bothering with a keypad pristine from lack of use. The offensively bright screen flickers out, the taunting date of December 11th 0007 fades from existence just as he had five years and two months prior. 

A passage downwards meets his gaze as he peers into the darkness and the bits of Sephiroth returned to his mind knows he’s found something more extensive than a pigeon hole for a smoke break. 

The empty halls echo and his over sensitive ears let him know scientists are coming back to work. Sephiroth can hear the Professor’s voice above them all on the horizon.

He goes down, down, down- plunging into the unknown. It distantly occurs to him ironically that humans are meant to be scared of the unknown but all Sephiroth can feel is the blood pumping through his veins and his body moving like it was made to. He descends into the abyss as far as it will take him, an endless system of doors and corridors and broken electronic locks until he enters the bowels of hell he hadn’t even known existed. 

Sephiroth is not surprised he was unaware, his information on the science department’s many playgrounds were limited to only the ones he spent time in. He had never been permitted to know much more unless the Professor was feeling superior and gloating about something or another. Sephiroth had heard many of those as a child and he’s sure have been in proximity to many ostensibly spoken at him recently. The professor never cared for listening or attentiveness, he only wanted someone who would nod and make the right noises to make him feel good about his progress and Sephiroth had that down to an art through pain or misery or leaving his body to drift since he was a child . 

Then he feels it. He barely dodges a patrol of masked SOLDIERs with an insignia he’s never seen before, the first signs of life down in this place, as the yearn of going somewhere enters his blood. 

He tosses any notions of discretion to the wind, a purpose solid in his mind. He has to get there, he yearns for nothing more in his turning gut and underfed bones to get there. The adrenaline revitalizes his mind in a flurry of fluttering wings and fire closing in behind him and Sephiroth knows with a surety he’s not felt in years that he has to get to the source.

There are more SOLDIERs in his way, some of whom recognize him and others who don't. He feels the monster he was born to be as the sing-song familiar comfort of something wonderful pulls him downwards more and more. Avoiding them and outrunning them is a simple enough matter and when that fails he snaps one of their necks and pushes his will and energy into the Thundaga the SOLDIER had been carrying to great effect. Masamune is pushing in on the corners of his soul, she is faint yet there and ready but he needs distance and as much as he can get.

Sephiroth grips the materia close, artificial and middling quality but a weapon none the less, and continues running. The world fades by him with nothing else drawing him then the promise of something cooing and calling and so unlike that Nightmare that called itself his 'Mother' in its draw.

He continues downwards, downwards, downwards-

Sephiroth comes to a place where the floor has been smashed away from the wall and where the underworld he finds himself in opens up to the promise of something greater than purgatory. He jumps without a second thought and falls free through the air. Even if whatever is beckoning him will not welcome him, the water below him will. 

Sephiroth will not be taken back to the labs again today or ever. 

His side hits the water with a great crash although he feels only a small twinge of pain from breaking through the surface tension. The pool is deep and he considers letting himself drift downwards for only a split second. Because the call is there again and it is near and sweet and feels like home in a way Sephiroth used to dream of having every night. He kicks to the side of the pool and heaves himself up onto the side of the cave. The surgical gown barely clings to his form amidst the motion, adhering to him once above water.He walks the narrow line out of the water.  

His hair weighs down his neck and scalp tugging in a way that would have made the living Sephiroth wince. He is not alive though he is a wandering demon looking for salvation, deliverance, an end to suffering and would travel the world over. Besides he feels he exists in his body for the first time in over five years in a way that doesn't make him want to puke. His skin feels the right size for his muscle, bones, and sinew and after the slaughter up in the subterranean hell his fangs are sharp again and at home in his mouth.

He comes to the end of the line, a large cavern opens in front of him with a dull blue glow in the center and he is drawn deeper. 

Sephiroth wades through the still water towards the source of light in the darkness. He continues deeper, uncaring the jagged rocks at the bottom that teeter the edge of breaking skin. The water reaches his hips at the deepest point before he steps onto the raised mound of rock, eroded by water for countless years. The great source of light that sits before him holds someone in it and upon recognizing him Sephiroth wonders if there were any alarms or open doors at all. 

He wades back down into shallow water that only brushes the tops of his feet before he reaches a second rocky plateau. Sephiroth stands before the still peaceful body of what appears to be Genesis. He is different yet much the same with red and black and only missing the blue hidden behind closed lids. His face is a little older but he is vibrant and colorful even through the strange magic in a way that he isn’t in the nightmares. 

That he hasn’t been since he was at Sephiroth’s side.

Sephiroth follows the pull once more and reaches out to touch the strange spell suspended in a crown of stalagmites. The beguiling thing in the back of his mind that has been pulling him closer intensifies. Sephiroth’s heart sings in happiness when his hand connects with cool magic that has the unmistakable hallmarks of someone he lost too soon.

Before him Genesis- and this is Genesis not some rogue copy he is sure of that now- twitches. Blue eyes that once captivated his entire mind open and meet his own green through the magical looking glass. A look of alarm passes through Genesis’s face and Sephiroth is sure he must make quite the unpleasant sight, sopping wet in a bloody surgical gown, but all he can think of is the man before him. 

There is a twist of magic in the air and Sephiroth can only look up in awe as Genesis’s concern is consumed by fire inside the spell before dying down again to a blue. Immediately afterwards the spell glows the brilliant green of pure mako and expands slightly as if it will start to dissipate through the air or explode violently. He doesn’t move away though, even in the feeling of raw magic and mako taint this feels right and he does not wish to leave the cave for what awaits him in the waking world. Through the glow Sephiroth can see Genesis sink down, his eyes closed in concentration, and the old-old reminder to never touch a mage mid-cast is the only thing that keeps him from pulling the other man out and into his arms. 

As leather boots touch the ground just before his own bare feet, supple gloved fingers pass through the spell and lace with his own where he is still touching it. Genesis’s blue eyes open again and meet his own without a hint of disgust for their strange appearance after a non-existence of that being the only response. Genesis is here and he is whole and Sephiroth is not as sad as he should be that the other man clearly hasn’t flown to the freedom he so yearned for. 

“You look very unwell dear one,” Genesis’s voice is slightly hoarse from disuse but symphonic on Sephiroth’s ears all the same. The concern and care rest heavy in those eyes and pour forth from his mouth. There is a warmth Sephiroth’s never been able to quite place there too that fills his chest with a resonance. It’s something he hasn’t seen since well before Genesis had flown away from him and Angeal the first time. There is no malice or desperation or wanting something of him and his body like so many others before this time, there is only a slightly darker shadowed man he’d held dear but not dear enough.

“Last time,” Sephiroth barely manages to croak out, not even having the foresight to clear his throat, his days or weeks or months unused voice is like rocks dragged across each other. “That might have been my line,” Genesis gives him a small, tight smile full of attempted mirth as see through as the wind and brings their hands down to rest at their sides, still linked. Sephiroth’s mind scrambles through the fog for words thrown in anger in Nibelheim at the obvious gap in understanding there but Genesis and beats him to it.

“That is one way to look at praying for a death,” Genesis’s face twists over the words as they pass through his lips, regretting his own attempt at making light of heavy things before he can even finish it. Sephiroth’s mind is suddenly filled with clouded nightmares and visions of monsters in tubes and a name he’d been told was his mother’s over a door in the main chamber. 

There is Genesis too, graying hair before he’s even thirty and vibrant blue eyes depleted of saturation. He wants something of Sephiroth’s body just like so many before him even though he’s the one person still alive, un-skewered by a sword he trained, who had promised to never ask such a thing. Who had promised that Subject S would always be safe around him, clandestine but ultimately meaningless words whispered after a night terror. Sorrow and Rage and most of all a deeper Betrayal than Sephiroth had ever felt take over his mind humming in symphony with the buzz in the back of his head. He wishes death upon one of the people he had once defined his world by and walks away. Someone he loved .

“I am glad you did not rot.” Sephiroth shoves the croaked words through his lips with far more effort than he’s ever had to put into speech. Then again he’s not spoken more than needed by the technicians and the Professor for at least a year now. Genesis looks at him, that warmth- a type of adoration- in his eyes married with shame and regret and precisely pointed lips turn ruefully. The leather gloved hand not currently holding his reaches up to wrap around Sephiroth’s jaw, a dexterous thumb resting in the hollow of his cheek. 

“I do appreciate the sentiment,” His voice is as rich in adoration as his eyes and that is what Sephiroth’s mind clings onto to further leave fog filled phantom memories behind. “Still I could likely not have been more insensitive if I tried,” Genesis’s voice is quiet when he speaks again full of remorse and apology and resignation as it echoes off the water and the walls until they have both been washed clean by the sound waves. He is about to respond to accept the unsaid apology when chapped lips part again. “I am sorry.” Genesis’s eyes are bright and vulnerable and Sephiroth brings his hand up to mirror Genesis’s painfully gentle hold on him. His skin is warm and alive and sings underneath Sephiroth’s hold, his eyes glow blue even in the green mist of the strange suspended magic.

“I accept your apology,” The emotions he was feeling finally started to bleed into his voice as the jagged scrape on his throat faded to a slighter ease. He did not feel right forgiving something he could barely remember, but that was not the conflict at hand. The matter of Genesis’s initial leaving still hung in his stomach like a stone, the abandonment fresh in his throat even though now he was 

“Thank you, Sephiroth.” Genesis whispered, the quiet words surrounded them though once more. Blue eyes were looking at him with so much wonder as if he wasn’t really there, the thought of this being a flitting place his mind escaped too passed through again. Perhaps Genesis thought Sephiroth was as well a vision from being suspended in whatever he’d sealed himself in…

The silence hung between them for a small eternity. Genesis continued to stare in wonder and adoration with a biting notion of guilt or perhaps even insecurity that Sephiroth could see creeping across the man’s expression. Sephiroth internally balked at the idea of Genesis and insecurity in the same thought before pushing it away since the tower of cards in his mind would crumble if he thought over it more. 

“I’d thought,” Sephiroth broke the paper-thin piece and Genesis’s eyes were attentive and present once more. He wonders again even as Genesis is warm and hale and whole under his hand if this man is truly solid and real. “I’d thought you would have been able to fly away free.”

“A lovely thought,” Is all Genesis says at first, his lips becoming something far more morose and his eyes fading to some imminent distance again. “Though some things cannot be outrun.” Sephiroth watched as Genesis opened his mouth to say more before snapping it shut as he ruminated over what he wanted to say. “The price of being made whole was steep.” Eventually is what leaves his lips in a tone that is perfectly neutral in a way that is antithetical to every bit of Genesis’s authentic personality Sephiroth had ever seen. 

He desperately wants to ask though if it was worth it. That part of him still abandoned and betrayed by the two people he’d built his world of actually living around wants to know more than anything. The more rational part of him feels selfish for being offended still because this is not a situation that has left Genesis able to be alive any more than Sephiroth has been capable of such. Still though it smarts because there is no whole-ness that can fix him and freedom is a thing he’ll never know again to the point where he’d projected fantasies onto Genesis in his mind the same way he did his birth mother as a child. Genesis flying away to freedom, abandoning everything to be whole and free. His mother wanting nothing more than breaking him out from the labs, someone who is not just willing but will rescue him. Sephiroth had always run on hope when under stress it seemed, projecting onto others what he wishes he could do himself. 

He looks at Genesis’s eyes still far away and wants real hope that he can touch and hold and not just dream away about others living what he wants. The thought of this being a fiction presses again even as Sephiroth drags his thumb across Genesis’s proud cheekbone returning the ginger’s eyes to his. The intrusive thought is scrambling for attention as it threatens to escape the box he’d put it in. 

“Prove to me you are real Genesis,” Sephiroth lets out finally, trying to push as much of the torrent inside his mind into his words. Because his skin and sinew and bones feel right inside his body and that was the most unnerving thing about it all: feeling right . “Prove to me that I exist.” Genesis’s eyes are alight with that adoration and wonder again. He takes a small step closer so that he’s pressed up against Sephiroth and their breaths pull from the same source. 

Genesis’s eyes flash with the determination that had attracted Sephiroth to him in the first place, twin blue flames trapped inside a man. He breaks their hands apart and pulls Sephiroth down slightly, waiting to see if he wants to escape to flee somewhere or somehow. 

He doesn’t.

Genesis presses their lips together and Sephiroth lets his eyes slip shut to mirror the man pressed against him. He mirrors Genesis once again and pulls him closer into their embrace. Sephiroth feels alive, and here, and real . His blood is pumping through his veins and his chest is singing in a most delightful way. Genesis breaks them apart and Sephiroth feels like he might devour him with the way blue eyes are boring into his soul. 

He feels like he might not mind.

“So,” Sephiroth lets out, the thought that was meant to follow fleeing his mind in the rush of vigor. He feels more properly reanimated than the shadow of a dead man he’s been in the labs.

“So?” Genesis practically purrs back, the determination flashing and something approaching contentment in eyes that still hold a good deal of weariness. 

“What are you doing here Genesis?” Sephiroth says, because he is here and Sephiroth is here and they both exist so why-

“I’ve a duty to fulfill,” Genesis starts his mouth taking a cryptic tilt. “I must wait for it,” Sephiroth was about to press further when Genesis reached the question at last. “This cave is simply a regrettable incidental.” Sephiroth can tell by the way his mouth tilts and his brows come together just a little that it is a longer story than that.

He is no mystery, he knows. Genesis knew when he saw him from whence he came. Some small childlike part of him that fears the color white still appreciates it not being voiced. He will not pry into something that seems to distress Genesis in turn. 

They stay like that for another blur of past time, half in and half out of an embrace. The sparkling green light above them still suspended, whatever process still paused. Genesis’s hand falls to his shoulder after a time and Sephiroth cannot bring himself to mirror it. 

The pounding of feet echoes from the far mouth of the cavern. 

Sephiroth pulls himself further out of Genesis’s arms, blood rushing and his fangs ready to bite. Masamune is there pressing against his soul- she sings for him to call her as-

Genesis’s hand lands on his shoulder, firm and steady but not a grip. Sephiroth could pull away and face the approaching threat like his instincts are begging him too still, Genesis is not keeping him here. He turns to face the other instead. 

“Will you wait with me?” Genesis says with a voice that is both confident and determined yet also soft and warm. Sephiroth knows he is missing something, some hidden message he had not gleaned but in that moment even the pounding footsteps of those who would take him back up to death and ruin fade away. 

“Yes.” Falls from his lips, the simplest choice he’s ever made. 

Genesis’s gloved hand casts off the beyond soiled surgical gown as a single black wing erupts from his right shoulder in a flurry of feathers. Perfectly coordinated, ever the showman when he wanted to be. He holds out a hand for Sephiroth to take and when he does he pulls the other closer to him as if they were dancing. Genesis’s feathers are surprisingly soft as his wing wraps around Sephiroth’s back, connecting them even further. 

When chapped lips he’d fantasized about for so long as a living man connected with his once more it feels like he’s finally found home that mythical place he’s always been denied. 

When they break apart, eyes meet once more before shutting together.

They will wait.

[moonlightflower21]

jaded

a/n: another mafia turtles fic w leo 🫣🫡 i'm not really active rn but i've had a few tmnt fics in my drafts so here this is anyway :)

hope you enjoy 💙

・.・.・°✭°・.・.・

Your life long goal was to become the CEO of L/N express, your business in which you spend years working and succeeding in. However there was only one thing stopping you, a merger needed to happen. And it was with none other than your rival company, the hamato brothers.

Leonardo, to be precise.

The music was soft, romantic as everyone danced with their partners. The smile on Donatello's face as he picked his partner up by the waist, Raphael teasing his S/O holding them securely by their hips and Michelangelo laughing his heart out with his lover.

Yours, however, sat on the stool sulking as he downed his whiskey.

Initially the vacation had been a good idea, everyone had been ridiculously stressed over the past couple days with the upcoming events. Being so close to the position you busted your ass for, was snatched straight out of your hands before you could even comprehend it. The only way forwards was to merge your business with the Hamato Clan and it had been the very last resort.

At first, Leonardo wasn't all that bad. In fact, you rather enjoyed his company. You came to realise and adore his presence, his humour and the way he spoke with you. But there was so much to learn about him and further you delved into his past, the more you realised there were secrets and hidden information.

The worst part was that in order for both business to be successful, you both had agreed to marry one another in order to please the board. Filled with middle aged old white men who believed a successful woman wasn't able to fulfil that position without the right man or whatever misogynistic bullshit they brewed. You didn't care, once you secured the CEO you'd have the power to get rid of the board altogether. There was no use for them whatsoever.

The decision wasn't an easy one but the more time spent with Leo, the more you got to know him. You could see the true version of himself that was kept hidden from the public eye and you were excited to see what else he hid under his tough exterior. You genuinely looked forward to spending time with him. You thought it would be okay, that the marriage would be a dream. That the two of you would conquer and devour the market, hand in hand.

But right now, however, you weren't so sure about that anymore.

Letting out a breath, you walked over to him nerves twisting in your stomach. He noticed by the corner of his eyes and motioned for the bartender to come by.

"Can I have two more of these?" Leo spoke gruffly to the young man who nodded with a smile and disappeared to make the drinks.

"You didn't have to do that" You whispered and for the first time that night, he looks at you. Those blue eyes a raging thunderstorm filled with every emotion in them. Yet you're not so sure which one is the most dominant.

"I may be angry at you but my respect doesn't waiver. That much should already be clear" He spoke and then turned his head, continuing whatever work he had on his phone.

Maybe this was a bad idea after all

"C'mon lovebirds, the next dance goes out to all the partners here! Hold them close and let the music wash all over you~" The DJ called out and your cheeks burned, awkwardly looking around at the couples. A part of you wanted to run away, to return to bed and forget this horrible night had ever occurred. Yet your partner stood, placing his phone in his blazer pocket and holding his hand out.

"Are you coming?" He answered curtly to which you rolled your eyes but accepted his hand. Surprisingly, he wasn't that bad of a dancer. You knew he was a ninja and therefore relatively light on his feet, but the way he held your body with expertise and his footwork was astonishing. You hadn't taken him for someone that cared for dancing, let alone even try to attempt it.

"I never knew you could waltzed" You tried to meet his eyes but they ignored yours, the obvious pain swirling in them from hours ago. When you had that argument

"You never asked" He replied bluntly, spinning you around with elegance and poise. This attitude was slowly starting to drive you insane, instead of being silent about his feelings he should just speak about them.

There was no way to do business with someone who shut off his emotions like a switch, how could you find common ground with him if you could barely remedy a simple argument?

"Why are you acting like such a.... tyrant?" You hissed while his figure stiffened up, his hands immediately at their side again. The warmth left your body and for a minute you regretted saying those words.

But then that moment ended, he needed to understand that in this partnership one person giving the other the cold shoulder without any necessary reason was completely childish and immature.

"Oh, a tyrant?" He barked, crossing his arms across his chest. His eyes flickered with an emotion but you hadn't the faintest clue what crossed them or what he was thinking. You could hardly understand him these days if you could barely manage past the incessant fighting day in and day out

"What is wrong with you Leonardo? I'm trying my hardest here" You were desperately reaching the end of your tether and while you knew you should control your temper, it wasn't fair for him to act anyway he pleased. Some days it felt like walking on eggshells around him. Other days, he seemed to avoid your presence altogether.

But there were those sweet days, the ones where he traced your body with gentle circles. Whispering the most heart warming promises, delivering a gentle kiss to your body. That was the Leo you loved. Not this one. Though even now that had come far and few between, it all felt like a business transaction to him. Perhaps that's simply what he thought of you

"The issue here is that I keep trying to tell you my side yet it seems you're spinning it in a different narrative, one that paints me out to be the bad guy-"

"I'm not, I just want you to see it in another perspective" You tried to reason but he was having none of it.

"See this is it. I don't care to see this in another light or point of view and as my potential partner, you should be able to respect those boundaries. You don't know the whole story, how could you possibly give information on something you know nothing on?" Leo seethed, stepping back away from. you.

"Hey guys, what's going on here?" Mikey tried to lighten the air but even his jokes couldn't put the foul mood Leo was in away.

"I was just leaving, good night" Leo looked at his youngest brother, turning away from you.

Like he always did.

"Y/N-" Mikey begins but you shake your head. "He doesn't want to listen to anyone. Not to you, not to me, not to his father. How can I be expected to work with such a... cold and distant man?" You scowled, shaking your head angrily at him.

"But if-" "I'm going to bed, don't let this ruin your night" You huffed, sending an apologetic smile to the turtle as you headed out. Knowing full well that nothing could be resolved if Leo didn't trust you enough. Deep down, a part of you didn't think you both could ever reach that point

•••

Tossing and turning, you probably managed to gather a handful of hours of sleep.

His words echoed through your body, leaving you angry and hurt. You couldn't help but recall what those people said to you about him. Everyone said he didn't have any regard for feelings, his mind was solely upon work. He seemed to breathe, eat and live to work. He couldn't go a day without checking in despite people employed for that very job. There wasn't a place of love for you in his life, he was Hamato Leonardo. An ice king at best. You couldn't melt away those steeled walls, you couldn't chip at his resolve. It was impossible.

Even so, somehow you'd manage to capture his attention. You had seen the other side of him, the funny and sweet guy that had somehow wrapped around your heart. The jokes he made, the way he pounced onto you when you teased him, the way he knew just what to say when you were stressed or having a bad day.

He certainly could pass for a poet, those sweet words whispered to you in the early dawn while his arms tightens gently around your waist. Cradling you as though you'd break in a million pieces. Holding you so close to his chest as if to mend all those broken parts of yourself.

That was the Leo you wanted, not this cold hearted beast.

The time read 5am and knowing you weren't going to get anymore sleep, you stood up and walked to the door. The great thing about the beach was that there was no one around, meaning you could enjoy the open land and the beautiful waves all by yourself.

The beach was beautiful undisturbed and untouched, and so was the sunrise with it's golden hues flicking just above sealine. Your eyes kept focus, watching the sky erupt into a volcano of sorts, golden red light bursting through the horizon eliminating the darkness. It was all so magical, the sun rays dancing upon your skin with the air kissing your cheeks. The tides were oddly calm, reflecting their light all about until you catch sight of something. Or rather someone

It seemed you weren't alone. Just above you was the staircase, giving a lovely view of the landscape overall. Debating internally, you wonder if you should cut your losses and run for the hills. No, you had poured far too much time and energy and your heart into this to fail. So you breathe in, composing yourself. Trying to get rid of your shaky nerves, it felt like you were talking to a mean horrible boss. Not your supposedly fiance.

Walking hesitantly up the stairs, you saw him. He didn't even flinch, already knowing whose presence was besides him just by the footsteps.

"Can we talk Leonardo?" You exhaled slowly, standing next to him. The woody cologne he had on smelt absolutely gorgeous, taking you to the night where he performed.... specific activities on you. It was going to be hard to ever get back to that level, if this fight could ever resolve itself.

"I have nothing to say" He replied bluntly, leaning against the banister overlooking the sea.

"Leo please-" "Enough" He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. He could feel the anger bubble and rise within his stomach, poisoning his veins as it drifted further up his body.

"If you could just listen, I can help you. I want-" You began but he waved his hand in dismissal, positing towards the exit.

"Y/N please-" "But Leo-"

"Y/N, stop! Look you said it yourself, we're so similar. Controlling, in charge, a leader if you will. But this isn't something you can control. I will not have my personal affairs out for everyone to read, most specifically an issue which I have told you countless times you cannot help," He whirls around, fury ablaze in his eyes.

"This is becoming very improper of you Y/N, I came here to spend some time with you yet you wish to fix issues that are past the point of repairing. If you'll excuse me..." Leonardo glared as he stood to his full towering height, his knuckles pale as he tried to keep his temper in check. Yet it was proving to be a difficult challenge with every minute spent on this damn island. With a scoff, he turned on his heel but you had angrily called out again.

"You think this is about my control and my wish to boss you around?? I wouldn't have to get involved if you hadn't placed me there! Need I remind you Leonardo, it was you who got me wrapped into this mess when we decided on the marriage for our business. I will not work with bickering employees or a partner who refuses to work out their problems! I cannot have this affect my side of the business" You snapped, eyes fierce as they blazed into his skull.

But his demeanor was tougher, angrier and cruel.

"Call it what you will Y/N but my issues are not for you to handle nor get yourself stuck in. Do not question my work ethic or my job, I have never allowed any of my problems interfere with work. And it will continue to remain that way. It was not easy growing up with brothers who refused to follow down this path and with a father that always expected me to be the best. I have tried to steer you away from this conversation but it's completely futile, you are absolutely hellbent on information I'm simply not ready to give" His lips curled in a sneer and you had forgotten how intimidating he looked when he was his full height.

With those eyes as cold as ice, his lips set in a an unmoving frown you remember why people are so afraid of him. Why they say he cannot be helped, why he has no soul

Leo sighs, rubbing the space between his eyes to calm his nerves. For once, his body is filed with regret instead of frustrations.

"Maybe you're right, maybe we are simply too alike. This will never work and I was naive enough to have hope that you'd be different. Once this deal closes off, we are purely in a contract for the benefit of both our business. Nothing more" Leonardo uttered coldly, stepping away as he returned to his own bedroom. The echo of his footsteps left you cold and empty, the distance of the door slamming shook you back in the present time.

Had he just?....

He did

You stood silent, gulping down air but it felt like it never fully reached your lungs.

[fluffyfantasticducky]

Admit it

☆ Pairing: Loki x Reader

☆ Synopsis: Loki likes you, more than he's liked anyone before, you make him laugh, you intrigue him and he's very comfortable around you, but proud as he is, he won't admit it. So when it turns out you already knew, will he be up to it and confirm it?

☆ Word Count: 4,902

☆ Notes: Loki is in denial about his feelings, as he does.

☆ Warnings: Alcohol consumption. Angry drinking, drunken confessions.

Loki was a lot of things, a liar, a trickster, a warrior, a sorcerer, a jester, a prince, a god, a hero, once even a villain. His current title, an Avenger... Ironic, really. How just a few years he had tried to kill every single one of them, and now he was part of the team. Although, he could argue that he’s the reason they finally got together in the first place, so it was only fair that now redeemed, he’d be allowed to join the famous team that once (thankfully) stopped his attempt at invading Earth. 

Because this way he got to meet you. 

You, oh Norns, you. Where could he start? You had been born different, to put it simply, as in you were part of the human population with special traits. Back then, Loki’s most remarkable human was a man with strength and anger issues formidable enough to scar him emotionally. Nowadays, there were sorcerers that could compete with Asgard’s finest, artificially made sentient and intelligent beings, and people with remarkable abilities that came from birth. Like yourself. 

You were what Midgard had been addressing as a mutant, which essentially meant that you were born with special abilities. Some had super speed, some had laser eyes, other had super strength or like in your case, could make your way into people’s mind to take peeks into their thoughts. Funny you did not end up in that super school for mutants. 

No, you had made your way into the rank of trainees for Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. And... somewhere else, but that was subject for another time. You were in a weird in between point right in the middle, you weren’t just a mortal in a suit, but your abilities didn’t stand out as much as for instance the reality warping witch. Not that you minded, quite the contrary, actually. 

You were quite a peculiar individual, on one hand you were a very shy and closed off person with most people, you mostly spent your times in the Avengers Facilities you hardly went outside and when you did it was very task focused, meaning if you went shopping you went to get the things you needed and came back, if you were going to meet someone that’s all you did, it was rare you went to stroll around the city or went to big events just because. When brought up, you argued it was simply because crowds meant lots of thoughts and it gave you headaches. 

On the other hand, inside the Compound you were bright and bubbly, always friendly and looking seeing you alone was rare, either spar training with Barton, Romanoff or Rogers, assisting Stark and Banner, cooking with Wanda and her tin-man fiancé maybe playing videogames with the young Spider boy and the other Maximoff twin, hearing Thor’s stories, even volunteering to babysit Barton’s youngest child and Stark’s daughter. And... even Loki got his quality time, mostly reading in the library or during training when your schedules aligned. But... for some reason, you seemed to look for his company a lot. 

It startled him at first, you approached him once, with a friendly aura he had never seen before, you smiled happily at him asking him to go with you downtown for a coffee. He was going to decline but when he opened his mouth, what came out was... 

“Of course. Let me grab a coat...” 

You seemed just as surprised as he felt, but your expression quickly shifted into a happy and comforting smile. 

“Alright, should I wait for you here?” 

He felt his lip curling up into a smirk. Without breaking eye contact, he flicked his wrist and under the sizzling green light he was so familiar with, his black long coat and glasses were conjured on him, as his appearance swapped, his hair turned shorter and brown as beard grew on his face. Your eyes widened big like plates as a soft blush appeared on your cheeks. 

“Ready when you are, dove” he smiled, offering you his arm for you to grab. 

Your flushed face, staring at him, scanning him. 

“A gentleman and a magician, color me impressed” you smiled. 

“Oh, no you little mortal, I’m much more than your cheap street wizards” he replied. 

“I can see that” you admitted, “but I think I like your hair black.” 

He didn’t admit it, but that had been a lot of fun. The conversation had been lighthearted and while at first you had struggled to find common ground, given you both came from very different backgrounds. But once it turned out you had a shared interest in theater and books, you had a nice place to start a conversation. 

Then it went on for a while, talking about life and missions, and whatever came to mind. Loki couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed so much, but you seemed to know exactly which buttons to press and how. By the time you had arrived at the coffee shop he had a slight stomachache. 

The coffee on its own was so insignificant that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t remember what he ordered that time, but he could recall that conversation no matter how much time it passed. 

He had been completely immersed in the conversation, that he hadn’t noticed when the sun set. And the walk under moonlight was even more pleasant, the temperature went down, making you shiver and hide under his arm and coat for extra warmth. It was... scaringly pleasant. 

“Doesn’t it bother you that we look like a couple?” 

“Given my reputation on earth, rumors of a partner is the least of my concerns,” he shrugged, “just enjoy the warmth.” 

“How are you so cozy if you’re a frost giant anyway?” you teased him. 

“I’m a magician, remember?” he grinned, “I have many tricks up my sleeve.” 

“Yeah,” you said, deviously, “me.” 

He never expected the fingernails scratching his upper arm. 

“Hehey!” 

“Ticklish much?” 

“Don’t be foolish” he spat out defensively. 

“Loki... I felt the panic ringing like an earthquake alarm” you giggled tapping your temple. 

“You’re delusional” 

“And you’re ticklish, deadly based on how badly you’re trying to deny it.” 

“Very funny.” 

“Thanks.” 

That was a first, usually, when Loki got a jab to his pride, the other person got a jab to the stomach with his daggers. Loki wasn’t one to take teasing lightly, but it felt inoffensive, like sure, it was meant to get on his nerves, but he couldn’t help but smile at you. 

That’s the first time he had a nice time being teased and not just teasing, the warmth on his cheeks felt somewhat comforting. No one had ever felt so easy-going, not fearing his god or royal status or using him as a steppingstone to get to Thor or his parents, not even trying to make him angry, just plain fun. 

The rest of the night was just as lovely, it was like none of you wanted it to end, so you prepared tea and chatted in the living room until late hours, when Wilson came to scold you both for not letting him sleep enough and risking his energy for his morning jog and not going to hear the end of it and blah blah blah. 

From then on it was getting to know each other. 

Thor got to tease him because now it was Loki filling your day with Asgardian stories. But you’d defend him saying you enjoyed listening to both talk about Asgard. Somehow, you always made the brothers get along. Thor talked about his parties and friends, while Loki narrated the most exquisite pieces of Asgardian literature, recited poetry, and made you laugh until you cried with every prank he ever played on Asgard. Both could talk for hours about their battle anecdotes, night could fall, and they would still be arguing about how events went down while you listened somehow not getting tired of the brothers’ antics. 

Training was another place you got to know each other better. 

“You sure you want to fight me, little mortal?” he teased you, “Is not quite a wise decision.” 

“I’ll take that risk” you replied with a wink that made Loki feel more things that he’d ever admit. 

You circled around the training mat for a few minutes, and that’s when Loki got his first to see your powers in action. You weren’t particularly strong or fast. But your mind reading gave you a heads up of every attack, so Loki had a hard time landing a blow. You, on the other hand, got to hit him a couple of times, not that it caused him any harm... well, other than his ego. 

Later on, Loki learned why he had trouble fighting you, Roger and Romanoff had designed your fighting style to be evasive and adaptable, focusing on compensating your lack of physical strength with good reflexes and responses. Although rather than making him angry, it made him admire you, and want to learn to fight you. 

That made you soon be sent in teams for missions together. Loki’s illusion and deception mastery to infiltrate you both, and your powers to extract intel without even needing to engage in direct conversation. 

“Alright darling, I’m on my way to the servers, did you get the code?” Loki asked through the communicator. 

“Not yet, I have yet to find O’Donnell, he was supposed to be in tech develop but the room empty, they said he went for a coffee break” you whispered back. 

“Yeah, what kind of idiot just stops everyone if they’re not caffeinated enough?” 

“Ah, that’s low, that’s hurtful.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Wait!” you whispered, indicating Loki you had found him, “Professor O’Donnell!” 

Loki slowed his pace to pay extra attention to what he heard over the com, you should be alright given Loki’s illusions were unbeatable, he made you look exactly like the general in command on the central. Your word was meant to be unquestioned, Loki himself chose to appear as another lab attendant, mainly to not stand out. But he still held his breath as you interacted with anyone, as low as it was, risk to getting caught was not zero. 

“Yes, General?” the investigator asked. 

“Are the reports ready?” 

“Ah, yes, they are almost done General!” the other voice said. “They should be done later on tomorrow!” 

That was a problem, you needed a trigger a certain train of thought, and he was derailing from the subject. And Loki was already by the hall, just a few meters away from his destination. 

“Well, that’s unfortunate,” you said. 

With the illusion over you, your voice sounded deep and intimidating. Loki stopped by a corner to hear, his breath stopping as he felt eyes on, looking at him weirdly for standing by the door. 

“Maybe I can stop by later by your office to see some advanced and get some work ahead with what’s already done. Would that work for you?” 

Bingo. 

“Ah, o-of course General!” 

“Alright, I’ll try meeting you after your break.” 

Loki soon heard footsteps, detecting your pace extra rushed and a close door. 

“1-9-9-3” Loki heard. 

Loki walked to the door, and typed in the code, which opened with a beep! 

“Took you long enough” Loki teased you. 

“Sorry, he focused on the work, I had to bring him to the office, so he’d think of the code”. 

“Right, but I got dirty looks for standing by my own door like an idiot.” 

“Not all of us are masters of manipulation” you whined. “Just get the data and meet me outside.” 

You seemed to be an unbeatable team. 

Loki felt comfortable around you. With time, comfort turned into friendship, which eventually turned friendship into fascination. He just loved learning about you, training and improving together, sharing secrets, developing inside jokes and codes that only you two understood, and he loved hearing you laugh. 

And soon, Loki couldn’t stand being away from you. 

“Darling, I’m thinking getting a drink by that coffee shop we like, would you like to come?” he asked, leaning on your door frame. 

“A-Ah... sorry Loki-Doki, I can’t right now... This report is taking me longer than I thought” you declined as you stretched on your chair. “How’s yours going?” 

“I haven’t finished either, turns out you can’t stretch much of infiltrating an auction without dozing off” he shrugged, and smiled at your shock, “I was hoping some coffee would wake me up.” 

“I don’t know, Loki... I really don’t want to come back to work on this.” 

“Come on, love” he insisted, “It’ll be my treat.” 

You thought about it, and Loki felt a delightful warmth running through his chest when he saw the smile reluctantly make its way on your face, your resolve breaking under the tempting offer. 

“And maybe a big cookie...?” you asked innocently. 

He flicked his wrist making his body be engulfed by his magic, to transform him into his now recurrent disguise, it was subtle, but it was impressive what changing his hair to short blonder hair and a beard did to conceal his presence. 

“Is there any other way to have coffee?” 

The whole walk you protested, calling Loki a bad influence and fearing you wouldn’t be able to finish in time unless you pulled an all-nighter, and how you couldn’t comprehend how Loki could be so chill about not handing it over in time. Loki just laughed at you whiny rant only making your cheeks reddened as you continue scolding him for laughing at you about something so serious. 

You had already arrived at the coffee shop and ordered while Loki went to save a seat for you to keep chatting and drinking while you chatted. 

“Thanks for treating me this time, darling” Loki said as you handed him his cup, “but next time I’ll be the one to pay.” 

“It’s okay, I just needed something heavier to work tonight” you groaned as you took a big sip of your coffee. 

“It’s just a report, love” Loki reminded you, “they won’t kick us out if one of their 18 reports they’ll get anyway.” 

“No, they won’t kick you out!” you snapped, “you are worth keeping. I’m just a low-tier mutant.” 

“Ah, right, because there’s so many of them around, willing to work for good and keep up with S.H.I.E.L.D.’s demanding regime and lifestyle.” 

“There’s more of us than actual than a god magician prince, it’s just the trifecta of «we must keep him! » and that’s without mentioning you’re the little brother of one of the 6 Og Avengers! They’d be insane not to keep you regardless of what you do!” 

“Like going rouge and trying to conquer Earth... again?” Loki said flatly, “Half of the time, I can’t tell if they actually want me to be here, or if I’m just being contained to be able to prevent, I plot against Midgard. I’m not an Avenger, I’m just a high-class prisoner.” 

“Shut your mouth, because that’s not true, Loki” you shushed him, placing a finger on his mouth, “I know that’s not true.” 

Loki gave you a weird look, you were very touchy with everyone in the Compound, but, in the Compound, you weren’t one to be so physical in public. 

“I’ve asked everyone in the Compound what they think of you, and... they say they like you, but...” 

A waitress interrupted you to bring the freshly out of the oven jumbo chocolate chip cookies, which you thanked her rather loudly and kept on staring at the spot where she had stood, after she had gone back to work behind the counter. 

“But...?” Loki inquired, getting your attention back. 

“But what?” you asked innocently. 

It was then that Loki noticed the pink tint on your cheeks. 

“Do you feel alright, sweetheart?” 

“Yes, of course... what was I talking about?” you said, grabbing your cup with sloppy hands 

“... They said they liked me...” Loki reminded you, wary of your moves. 

“Ah, right, right, right!” you said. “But I wasn’t satisfied, so I peeked in their minds, and they thought they could trust you when you first joined, but they think trusting you was the best decision they ever made, because you’re quite a softie.” 

“A softie?!” Loki gasped indignantly. 

“Yes, cute right? They think you turned into a softie, but I think you’ve always been, but we broke down your defenses, and you actually like us too...” you said before bursting into giggles. 

Loki just denied such claims, watching you giggle and laugh as his anger quickly subdued to curiosity and concern with your current state. 

“You are though! Like when you helped Peter with his literature by translating old Asgardian novels for him. Or how you gifted Clint and Kate an old set of bow and arrow made by the dwarves...” 

Loki rolled his eyes as you kept listing things Loki had done for everyone, while he looked at you drag words, your silly mood, your pink cheeks, and clumsy motions... He knew these symptoms. 

“Hey! That’s mine!” you yelled as he grabbed your cup and took off the lid to sniff the drink. “Don’t drink it!” 

The smell was faint compared to what he knew in Asgard, but this was undeniably alcohol. 

“Sweetheart, what are you drinking?” 

“It’s Irish coffee, it’s very bitter...” you pouted. 

“This is alcohol,” Loki asked severely, “why on Earth would you drink something like this?!” 

You shrunk in your seat like a kid at his scolding, making Loki’s heart ache. He didn’t like seeing you upset, but this wasn’t normal behavior, much less from you. 

Loki had only seen you this drunk once before. You had been like this, angry and pressured to push a limit. You had been in an awful mood the whole day, and by the night, you sneaked to the drinks cabinet and drank down half of a wine bottle by the time Loki found you. And just like now, you had gone from angry and stressed to giggly secret-spilling, with the mindset of basically a toddler, that’s how he had learned his brother like doing karaoke nights to cheesy pop songs on dorky Midgardian pajamas and frog feet-shaped slippers and that Stark had Captain America trousers. 

But he knew that angry drinking wasn’t a healthy habit, especially on you, who angry drank without pacing or measuring yourself, so you got very drunk, very quick. 

“But yeah, we all adore having you around Loki” you babbled “and I agree with Thor, you’re his favorite, you know?” 

Now that he didn’t expect, you weren’t much to talk about your feelings. But hearing that made him melt. You were trying to assure him that even his brother loved him, but the implication that you liked him as well made him stupidly happy. 

He just smiled and grabbed your hand. 

“Come on, love” he said gently, “Let’s get you home.” 

Soon he realized you were drunk beyond what he had seen you, you could barely stand up, so with a sigh, Loki kneeled to let you climb on his back giving you a piggyback ride. You shyly accepted given you were not gonna be able to walk on your own. 

And it turned out rather nice having you against him with your arms around his neck, you were warm and comfortably resting your head on his shoulder as you giggled while spilling dorky secrets to the young prince. All harmless innocent stuff, but amusing, nonetheless. And it usually came from places of care and concern. 

“...And Peter has an Iron-Man plushy that he talks to when he’s nervous...” you mumbled, “I wish I could tell him he can go to the real Tony, but I can tell him I know...” 

“You know a lot of secrets, don’t you?” Loki teased you. 

“Sorry...” you said hiding your face against his shoulder. 

“Dear heart, what could you possibly be apologizing for?” Loki asked gently. 

“I don’t know these secrets because I want to...” you mumbled, “I can’t help but catch the thoughts like passing conversations on the street.” 

“We are aware, and it was hard to get used to,” he admitted “but we are aware you don’t intend to hear people’s thoughts.” 

“I know... but people still get angry about it,” you muttered “I don’t intend to, but no one likes feeling their privacy was invaded. I hate being the way I am...” 

“Don’t say that dove, I doubt anyone in the building blames you” he assured you. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, love.” 

“Thanks Loki” you said, as you nuzzled against his neck. 

Immediately he jolted as he felt your breath against his skin. 

“Ah, sorry, I wasn’t trying to tickle you.” 

“Yeah, you are” you pouted, “you can lie but your brain doesn’t. You’re very-very super very ticklish... Look you’re getting embarrassed because I’m right!” 

It would be useless to lie given you could see right through him. 

“You’re super ticklish... here.” 

And right then he felt your hands sneaking under his arms, as your fingertips wiggled against his armpits, which immediately made him break into laughter. 

“Ehehehe-hey!” he cackled, “Stohohohop it!” 

“See? So ticklish, and so cute” you smiled as you changed to scratch with your fingernails, making Loki double over with laughter. “And I’d dare to say you like it.” 

“Shuhuhut ihihit, you mihinx!” he whined. “Thahahat’s so bad!” 

“Ow, but it’s fun...” you whined, breathing against his neck, which only tickled more. 

And then something unexpected happened, between the tickles that were overwhelming and having all his focus spent on not dropping you, his magic failed, making his spell wear off, revealing his usual self. 

“Uh-oh...” you mumbled shyly. 

The previous scene had earned a few looks from bystanders, but their endearment and amusement turned into horror when they saw Loki’s real appearance. You hid against him when Loki, barely with time to recover from the giggle fit you had induced on him, summoned a teleportation spell and both of you disappeared under a green cloud. 

You reappeared on the halls of the Compound, right by your door, so with a relieved sigh he opened it and delicately placed you in your bed. Before sitting beside you. 

“Sorry I ruined the fun” you muttered. 

“Fun?” he gasped indignantly, “You called tickling me to pieces fun?” 

You nodded. 

“I do not like being tickled, you’re talking nonsense” he huffed. “It’s so childish and idiotic.” 

“And it puts you in a good mood because it’s mischievous fun” you cut him off. 

“You’re insane.” 

“It’s okay” you assured him, patting his hand, “I like getting tickled too.” 

That made Loki perk up his ears. 

“Do you, now?” he smirked. “Well, well, well... Now that’s a secret I’m interested in.” 

Immediately your face turned red as your eyes grew wide as plates, as he leaned to straddle your with his hands as he sat on your upper thighs. 

“W-Wait! Wahahait, Loki! Nononono, Loki don’t, I’m stupidly ticklish I—” 

“Oh, are you?” he grinned. “My, my... I’ve always loved your drunk honesty, but this is the most important bits of information you’ve given me...” 

“Loki!” you whined as you covered your beet red face with your hands. 

An opportunity he took to scratch your sides, making you jolt and burst into bright silly hiccupy giggles. 

“Lohohohoki! Thahahat hic tihihihickles, plehehehease hic hic—!” 

That was an adorable sight, you squeezed his wrists, yet not pushing him away. Guess you weren’t lying about actually liking getting tickles. 

“Please what, darling? Please more? Please tickle me to pieces? Gladly” he teased as moved to knead that sides of your belly. 

You wheezed arching your back as he gave repeated pinches to the sides of your tummy, slowly climbing to your ribs, pinching and squeezing your ribs and sides, causing you to scream with laughter. 

“Ah, so pretty and so ticklish... and so helpless” he growled as he sneaked his fingers under your arms. 

“AHAHAHEHE, LOHOHOHOHOKI STAHAHAHAP!” 

“No, I don’t feel like stopping, you shouldn’t have a problem taking what you dished out on me earlier, would you?” 

“PLEHEHEHEASE LOKI! NOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHRE!” 

He simply decided to take it up a notch, grabbing your wrists, and pinning them both above your head, making you even more helpless to his tickling free hand. 

“LOHOHOHOK—” you protest was got off by a wheeze that sentenced the end of the screaming laughter. 

Now the only sound you could make was wheeze in silent laughter and gasp for air as Loki tickled you silly. Tears began streaming down your face as Loki’s hand roamed to squeeze, pinch and scribble over every ticklish spot it could find. He only stopped when you began coughing between gasps of air. 

He got off you and saw you curl your legs up to your chest in an attempt to protect yourself. But it only made Loki grab your feet and take off your shoes and socks. 

“Noohohoho, no, no Loki please nohoho dohohon’t tihihihck— ACK!” 

A single finger scratch with his nail across your sole made you jump and swing your foot, kicking Loki right on the stomach making him fall off the bed. 

“Oh my gosh, Loki, I’m sorry!” you said, truly horrified. 

The trickster god, huffed and groaned in pain, not expecting a human kick to do so much harm. 

“I’m quite alright, you’re just stronger than I thought” Loki said, “I’m impressed.” 

You went down to sit next to him, placing a gentle hand on his stomach. Truly it didn’t hurt after initial impact, but you weren’t going to be at peace until you’d check yourself. And maybe he enjoyed having your hands on him. 

Until it tickled. 

“Hehey!” he whined. 

“Sorry...” you said, as a smiled shyly. 

“Oh, no I know exactly what you’re thinking” he groaned, “I do not, I repeat, I do not enjoy these childish games." 

“I can tell you do, but that’s okay... I know you’re not the type to admit you like something...” 

“Wha— What is that supposed to mean?” Loki asked. 

“A-Ah! Nothing no... it’s nothing!” you squeaked nervously. 

“Darling, you may read minds, but I am the God of it,” Loki said, “I can tell exactly when someone is lying.” 

“N-No, it’s nothing!” you said as you curled up on the spot, hiding your face on behind your knees. 

“Darling... you’re scaring me... What’s wrong?” 

“Can you promise you won’t get mad...?” you asked. 

“I don’t think you could truly upset me” Loki comforted you as he grabbed your hand to give it a gentle reassuring squeeze. “After all, you are my favorite.” 

Your face turned red and a shy smiled appeared on your face for a moment, before that anguished look made its way back to your features. 

“We were getting ready for the last mission, and I heard you, Thor and the others talking... About... me. How you maybe sort of actually... liked-liked me. And you said no... but, your thoughts... did not agree.” 

Oh, oh no. Oh dear, oh gods. 

Now a lot of things made more sense. How your face was red was in when you walked in the room, and how you suddenly decided to pair up with Steve to rescue the hostages rather than going for intel with him and Nat. How you were moody and distant afterwards. And why this mission report was causing you so much conflict. 

You knew he liked you. You had managed to peek that thought of his mind. A thought even he refused to admit. But now, out in the open, he felt relieved, and the way you just seemed embarrassed. 

“So you’ve known all this time? And that’s what upsets you?” 

“You promised you wouldn’t get mad” you whined. 

“I’m not, I think you are more upset than I am!” he laughed, before realizing something, “Does it bother you...? That I long for you like this?” 

“N-No...” you mumbled, “Not at all... I maybe sort of like you too...” 

“Then why were you so upset?” 

“How would you feel if you realized the person you have a massive crush on likes you too but you can’t do anything about it without revealing you may have stepped his boundaries?” 

“Massive crush, eh?” he grinned. “So.. It's safe to say that you wouldn’t mind if I stole a k—hmpf!” 

He was interrupted by a pair of lips against his own, that quickly melted him into a kiss. You had placed your hand on the side of his neck, sliding it to the back to play with his hair. The young prince pulled you closer to kiss you more, even pinning you against the side of your bed. 

Only breaking the kiss when you needed to gasp for air. And he got to admire you bright open eyes staring at him with a huge happy grin. 

“Beat you to it” you smiled. 

“Whahat?” he laughed. 

“I stole the kiss” you beamed proudly. 

He smiled as he leaned to kiss you again. 

“Now that you admitted you liked me... will you admit you like getting tickled...?” 

“Mmm, not yet...” he grinned. “But I have something better in mind.” 

“Wha— No! N—EEEEEEEHHH!” 

But Loki had already tackled you on the floor and went back to tickling you silly once more. But it was fine, one big confession at the time, and today had been more than enough.

| MASTERPOST |

[iloveyanderes]

This morning I was making my daily bagel, thinking about bungou Stray dogs, doing my daily bagel eating and then suddenly I got the most brilliant yandere idea ever(probably not the most but definitely in that top 15)

What if in the events of bsd jouno like died and stayed dead, this led tecchou to be traumatized and never able to get over it no matter how much people helped him.

He basically spent a large amount of his days suffering and thinking about jouno, but then one day he met you, an innocent, helpless, but most importantly a blind person.

Hoping to cure some of the pain in his heart he becomes friends with you, helping you with your daily life

As more time goes on he gets comfortable, almost calm, but there is something else lingering in.

So slow that you wouldn't notice his mind kept comparing you to jouno, you were both blind, you weren't harsh like jouno but his brain tricked him into thinking you were.

Eventually he starts to think you are jouno, he starts calling you that instead of your real name.

Imagine one day your just waking up and suddenly tecchou is beside you, calling you jouno, acting as if your someone your not.

You try to explain to him that your not jouno but he refuses to hear anything about that, it gets to the point where he begs you to degrade him, tell him to stop breathing, and get annoyed by his mear presence. In his brain jouno=you

It gets so creepy that you lash out expecting him to back off, it has the opposite effect. Aggression just like jouno, oh please jouno tell him to die so he can bask in your presence.

One day when your trying to cram it into his head that your not jouno he gets angry, pushing you backwards where you land on a wall.

After realizing he hurt you, he immobilized you into a restraining hug, then he began to beg once more.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, get angry at me please jouno! Call me names jouno! Do anything jouno!" He cried, almost strangling you.

Now jouno...why don't you help cure your teammate. He needs you.

After all your jouno, whose yn?

[luimagines]

Homecoming (700 follower raffel)

Masterlist

Our second prize winner was @murdermansimpery

They asked for a bit of angst with a happy ending, Wild edition.

Content under the cut!

Link, currently going by Wild, slung his quiver around his hips and spun his cloak around his shoulders. You handed him a freshly cooked meal and adjusted his cloak for him as he checked his sheikah slate and shield and sword.

You sighed and tried to not let your emotions show too much on your face. “Do you have to go?”

Link pauses and sags. “You know I don’t want to. But if not me, then who else?”

“All the others who came in through the portal first.” You mutter, trying to not get angry at him. You knew he didn’t choose this life. It was just frustrating that he seemed to keep choosing it even though the job was done.

He reaches out to you and cups your cheek. You have to keep your head up and face him. You do so bitterly but keep your mouth straight and your eyes dry. Link smiles. “I’ll be back. I always come back. I promised you.”

You step into his arms, as you knew he would have wanted you to, and hugged him. You hugged him tightly. He responded in kind. You took a deep breath and sighed. “I’ll hold you to that. Don’t keep me waiting.”

“I won’t.” He pulls back and places a kiss on your forehead. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

There’s a knock at the door and you try to not throw something at the person outside. This doesn’t seem very fair in your eyes. You clear your throat and nod towards it. “They’re calling you.”

Link nods. “Coming!”

He kisses your cheek one last time and walks away.

He opens the door, greeted by other blond and young heroes who call him Wild and Champion. Your Link looks back one last time, waving brightly and closes the door to the house. 

You give it a minute and wait. Nothing changes. Their jests and questions fade as they walk away. Soon it’s just quiet. It’s quiet and getting dark and lonely once more.

You cry. You take the nearest vase and smash it against the wall. You scream and cry and yell and collapse onto the floor until you end up tiring yourself out from the energy you spent throwing your tantrum.

You wake up sore and achy. You get up from the floor and rub the spots on your body that hurt the most. You find yourself going through the motions of your morning routine. It’s still quiet. It’s an unsettling sort of quiet that seeps into your bones and puts you on edge by something that is simply...  wrong.

You cook and eat. Only to toss the plate towards the sink in your ache. You miss and it shatters on the floor.

It’s the final straw.

Enraged and feeling righteously impulsive, you gather your own bag and pack it for yourself. You refuse to be here in this empty house all by yourself. Link traveled frequently around Hyrule with Zelda. It’s your turn.

That had been months ago.

Wild comes home, feeling a strange but welcomed emotion to being called his own name again. He’s tired but he can’t take the time to rest. He promised you that he would be home soon. While it took longer than he thought it would and there was a moment he feared that he would break his promise, he’s back now and he plans on seeing your face first after all this time.

He all but runs to his house, teleporting as close as he can before tossing himself over the terrain until he reaches his front door. Link throws it open and his smile falls.

You’re not here?

Link can’t even think to call for you. He makes one step in and steps on something crunchy. It’s the broken plate.

He instantly assumes the worst and runs back out of the house. Link starts asking neighbors, friends, family. Has anyone seen you?

They say no. They say he left and then no one saw you leave your house since.

Link begins to panic. He tells Zelda of the event and given the adventure he just returned from, she is inclined to believe that someone might have targeted you in return for being defeated.

Link first checks Death Mountain and Gorons if they have seen you or heard you or have seen anything suspicious in the time he was gone up to recently. They give him little information but they do point out that a friend of a friend saw you in the Hebra region.

Link heads there immediately. 

Teba finds him in a flurry of panic and flailing limbs. It’s not pretty.

Teba gives the poor hero more information. He saw you, yes. Taught you how to better use a bow and talked for a few days. You left soon after that and didn’t say where you were going.

Link feels a little bit better if only because his words imply that you weren’t taken. But Teba reminds him that it was weeks ago and he hasn’t seen you since.

Link takes off running again.

It’s only when Link ends up right by the wastelands where he sees a familiar silhouette. 

He yells and runs faster towards it.

You look his way and scream back. You tumble a bit down the rocky formation before he all up tackles you into a hug.

Link might start crying but he refuses to admit it. “You scared me. I came home and you weren’t there. I was looking everywhere for you.”

“Not fun when it happens to you, huh?” You say softly, hugging him back as if your life depended on it.

“I should be home now.” He whispers. “For good this time. It’s over.”

You might be crying too.

With a hidden and ignored sniffle, you pull away and wipe his face. It’s covered in mud and grass stains and just a little bit of water, you’re sure. No tears.

Link laughs, taking your hand. He’s home.