#or i oddly relate to it a bit too much

[loonatic260]

So often, I think about how Thomas's relationship with Edward (the blind soldier in season 2) would have gone if Edward was permitted to stay and recover at the hospital. I mean, really, there's so many different scenarios of how things *could* have gone for Thomas if his love interests loved him back (and stuck around long enough to make it work).

During the confrontation in the courtyard (S2E2)... Corporal Barrow to his left, Nurse Crawley to his right, and a badgering doctor in front of him, Edward speaks his mind about wanting to stay. "Please— don't send me away. Not yet," the soldier states, contorlling his emotions. And instead of Thomas being cut off this time, he continues to speak, "Sir, surely we... can still take care of him, until the time comes that he is fully recovered." Thomas looks over to Edward, for the response in his gaze that supports and appreciates his efforts, but is quickly reminded that a look of condolence is hard to get out of a blind man. "Corporal Barrow, you will not speak out of turn—" his tone shifts, "every one of our beds is needed for the injurred and dying. Lieutenant, you will make your recovery at Farley. Corporal, I will see you in my office." The doctor pats Edward's shoulder and turns away, leaving the three in silence. Sybil looks to Thomas, then to Edward, "We are fully capable of keeping you here to treat you until you are better. Thomas, I'm sure we can find a way to change the doctor's mind." Thomas takes a long moment to think of what could be said, but Edward breaks his thought by looking up towards him. Thomas knows those bright eyes can't see him, but Edward's longing for an answer, and longing for some way to stay, are clearly conveyed by that deep stare. Thomas distracts himself from the way the light shown across his face and illuminated his scars. "I don't want to leave, Corporal, not right yet. I don't feel fully recovered yet— a convalescent home won't help me." Thomas looks to Sybil. They both know Edward's outlook on his own life; it isn't good, and if they can get him to stay under their care, they'd know he'd be a healthier man of it.

"Please, one man staying here to recover- or convalesce, as you put it- is not getting in the way of us taking care of other injurred soldiers." Thomas stands opposite of the doctor, only a desk between them but many dense layers of invisible emotions as well. "We have the equipment and time to continue to tend to Edward while caring for others' just as well," Sybil enters the office eagerly to back him up. "I am taken aback by both of your confidence. Nurse Crawley, you may be used to having the social upper-hand, but not here. My decision is final in keeping Ed—" The clicking heels of an adamant, old woman can be heard stomping nearer, alerting Clarkson of his likely misjudgment. "Doctor Clarkson, I do beg your pardon, but have you tended to Lieutenant Courtenay as closely as Corporal Barrow or Nurse Crawley?" Her distinct tone sends exaughst from every hole of the doctor's body. "I do recall Thomas talking with the Lieutenant, reading him his letters, and offering condolences, therefore giving him an accurate assessment of Lieutenant Courtenay's mental health." Sybil looks to Thomas from behind, looking to see even the slightest smile peaking through his cheeks, but Corporal Barrow stays straight-faced. Sybil knows they've won this argument now. "And Nurse Crawley has tended to his physical needs and growth in his condition, so she should be more than qualified- in this circumstance- to claim whether or not Lieutenant Courtenay should continue to be seen here, so if she claims he is still of our assistance, then we shall grant him that." Without much more word from Doctor Clarkson— at least not much anything that Thomas had to listen to due to smirking and showing Sybil his slight excitement— Corporal Barrow met Lieutenant Courtenay at his cot.

"Are you happy to be out of your bandages, Lieutenant Courtenay?" Thomas smiled towards Edward, finding himself repeating natural mannerisms from his service at Downton when it wasn't always necessary, especially right now. "Please, don't call me 'Lieutenant.' I've lost that privilege of title the moment I wasn't able to perform my duties properly anymore." Slouching halfway out from under his sheets, he turned away from the sound of Thomas's voice, imagining the disappointment. "You can call me 'Edward'," the soldier finished. Thomas furrowed his brows, "I told you not to be so hard on yourself. I won't lie to you, and I won't tell you that you'll be able to perform your duties properly again, but I can say that you will- and do- have the opportunity to live a good life." Thomas laid his palms on Edward's knuckles, carefully centered on the soldier's knee as if to plead. "I already told you: don't let other's drag you down. It doesn't matter what they think of ya, or do to ya, so you'll resolve things with your brother and mother—" Thomas saw the muscles in Edward's face start to quiver, "Or else I'll have to go knock some sense into them, and they don't want that!" A chuckle was pulled out of Edward as a tear strolled down his cheek, and Thomas gave a laugh of relief to be able to make Edward smile. "We'll take care of you as long as we can, Edward. We'll make things work. Despite what Clarkson thinks is best for someone he doesn't know."

Sybil smiled from the doorway, watching their interaction, and glad of their soldier's brightened spirits. She'd never seen Thomas so emotional before, but it was an effective way of getting through to Edward. Surprisingly, the doctor listened to Isobel once again; it seems that only Isobel can truly get through to Doctor Clarkson.

[nmakii]

strayed from the main idea of this drabble… oops.

sae itoshi, who loves calling his girl ‘amorcita’. that’s fine, and all. it’s romantic, but he likes calling you his princess much more.

princess is more than just a pet name to him though. because to him, you’re truly a princess, graceful and beautiful despite your faults; someone who deserves to be given the world. he’d go to the ends of the earth to find something that doesn’t exist if you asked him to find it.

it’s not much of an exaggeration when you say that he’s down bad.

he is— he’s just very good at hiding it. he doesn’t boast about you loudly in the ways that someone like that devil— shidou— might, but he instead manages to offhandedly relate any conversation topic to you.

oddly enough, the only other time sae’s ever as talkative or passionate about something other than football, is when he’s talking about you.

that additional time where aiku asked shidou why he was making funny faces in the locker room? after that, sae mentioned, “my princess makes weird faces too. when she’s sleeping, her cheek is always pressed up to me, and it leaves a red mark in the morning. and, she can never manage to keep her mouth closed when she’s asleep. once, i was able to feed her while she was asleep.” and he sighed, silently smiling at the funny memory.

in his first interview after going public with you as his girlfriend, he immediately jumped at the opportunity to mention you. he had always thought that these interviews were an unnecessary hassle. he’s a good football player, and he’ll let his work speak for itself. “right! soo… sae, how are you adjusting to your new team?” the interviewer asks. sae thinks for a moment, his lower lip raising in a slight pout as he thinks of how to answer. “…the center forward has incredible dribbling skills, i’ll admit that. but, his shot range and goal chance percentage are awful. the rate at which he can score goals is still lukewarm.” he sighs disappointedly, “the best striker in the world seems to have not had his awakening yet. it’s annoying, but the city isn’t so bad. there’s a french bakery near my apartment that my princess and i like to frequent. she loves those flaky croissants with chocolate in them— pain au chocolat, but i tend to just get their house black coffee.” he’s recalling your typical order as if it’s the back of his hand, and the flow of his speech is much more relaxed than when he had been speaking about his new team.

and at this point, the interviewer is confused. “pardon… your ‘princess’?” he repeats, trying to confirm what he heard. sae nods, “yes, my princess; my girlfriend. she really likes those chocolate croissants. she eats about a fourth of it in just one bite. and when some hot chocolate from the inside burns her on the lip, she complains a bit and asks me to kiss it better. it’s really cheesy on her part, but i guess i don’t mind if it’s for her.” even sae doesn’t know just what he’s saying. he didn’t mean to reveal this much about how he feels. …yet, here he was, going on like a pining gentleman in love, and remembering how the softness of your lips felt against his as the piping hot chocolate pressed and stuck onto his lips as well.

in his eyes, you’re as close to perfection as there ever will be. it didn’t matter whether or not your physical appearance changed, or if you suddenly decided to change your career path— as long as you stayed as who you are, he’d be at your side.

and to be worthy of such a perfect human being; his princess. he has to become a king— a king of the field. one who domineers the field with his spatial awareness alone, and passes to the one who can keep up with his vision; the greatest egoist. that’s who he needs to become in order to earn your love; to become worthy of being the one that gets to love you every day and every night.

but even so, it’d still never be enough for him. you always make him want to push his limits further, and show you just how amazing he is.

sae’s really down bad for his princess.

[petermorwood]

More on pre-electricity lighting.

Interesting to see this one pop up again after nearly two years - courtesy of @dduane, too! :->

*****

After experiencing a couple more storm-related power cuts since my original post, as well as a couple of after-dark garden BBQs, I've come to the conclusion that C.J. Cherryh puts far too much emphasis on "how dark things were pre-electric light".

For one thing eyes adjust, dilating in dim light to gather whatever illumination is available. Okay, if there's none, there's none - but if there's some, human eyes can make use of it, some better or just faster than others. They're the ones with "good night vision".

Think, for instance, of how little you can see of your unlit bedroom just after you've turned off the lights, and how much more of it you can see if you wake up a couple of hours later.

There's also that business of feeling your way around, risking breaking your neck etc. People get used to their surroundings and, after a while, can feel their way around a familiar location even in total darkness with a fair amount of confidence.

Problems arise when Things Aren't Where They Should Be (or when New Things Arrive) and is when most trips, stumbles, hacked shins and stubbed toes happen, but usually - Lego bricks and upturned UK plugs aside - non-light domestic navigation is incident-free.

*****

Here are a couple of pics from one of those BBQs: one candle and a firepit early on, then the candle, firepit and an oil lamp much later, all much more obvious than DD's iPad screen.

Though I remain surprised at how well my phonecam was handling this low light, my own unassisted eyes were doing far better. For instance, that area between the table and the firepit wasn't such an impenetrable pool of darkness as it appears in the photo.

I see (hah!) no reason why those same Accustomed Eyes would have any more difficulty with candles or oil lamps as interior lighting, even without the mirrors or reflectors in my previous post.

With those, and with white interior walls, things would be even brighter. There's a reason why so many reconstructed period buildings in Folk Museums etc. are (authentically) whitewashed not just outside but inside as well. It was cheap, had disinfectant qualities, and was a reflective surface. Win, win and win.

*****

All right, there were no switches to turn on a light. But there was no need for what C.J. describes as stumbling about to reach the fire, because there were tinderboxes and, for many centuries before them, flint and steel. Since "firesteels" have been heraldic charges since the 1100s, the actual tool must have been in use for even longer.

Tinderboxes were fire-starter sets with flint, steel and "tinder" all packed into (surprise!) a box. The tinder was easily lit ignition material, often "charcloth", fabric baked in an airtight jar or tin which would now start to glow just from a spark.

They're mentioned in both "The Hobbit" and "The Lord of the Rings". Oddly enough, "Hobbit" mentions matches in a couple of places, but I suspect that's a carry-over from when it was just a children's story, not part of the main Legendarium.

Tinderboxes could be simple, just a basic flint-and-steel kit with some tinder for the sparks to fall on...

...or elaborate like this one, with a fancy striker, charcloth, kindling material and even wooden "spills" (long splinters) to transfer flame to a candle or the kindling...

This tinderbox even doubles as a candlestick, complete with a snuffer which would have been inside along with everything else.

Here's a close-up of the striker box with its inner and outer lids open:

What looks like a short pencil with an eraser is actually the striker. A bit of tinder or charcloth would have been pulled through that small hole in the outer lid, which was then closed.

There was a rough steel surface on the lid, and the striker was scraped along it, like so:

This was done for a TV show or film, so the tinder was probably made more flammable with, possibly, lighter fuel. That would be thoroughly appropriate, since a Zippo or similar lighter works on exactly the same principle.

A real-life version of any tinderbox would usually just produce glowing embers needing blown on to make a flame, which is shown sometimes in movies - especially as a will-it-light-or-won't-it? tension build - but is usually a bit slow and non-visual for screen work.

*****

There were even flintlock tinderboxes which worked with the same mechanism as those on firearms. Here's a pocket version:

Here are a couple of bedside versions, once again complete with a candlestick:

And here are three (for home defence?) with a spotlight candle lantern on one side and a double-trigger pistol on the other.

Pull one trigger to light the candle, pull the other trigger to fire the gun.

What could possibly go wrong? :-P

*****

Those pistol lanterns, magnified by lenses, weren't just to let their owner see what they were shooting at: they would also have dazzled whatever miscreant was sneaking around in the dark, irises dilated to make best use of available glimmer.

Swordsmen both good and bad knew this trick too, and various fight manuals taught how to manage a thumb-shuttered lamp encountered suddenly in a dark alley.

There's a sword-and-lantern combat in the 1973 "Three Musketeers" between Michael York (D'Artagnan) and Christopher Lee (Rochefort), which was a great idea.

Unfortunately it failed in execution because the "Hollywood Darkness" which let viewers see the action, wasn't dark enough to emphasise the hazards / advantages of snapping the lamps open and shut.

This TV screencap (can't get a better one, the DVD won't run in a computer drive) shows what I mean.

In fact, like the photos of the BBQ, this image - and entire fight - looks even brighter through "real eyes" than with the phonecam. Just as there can be too much dark in a night scene, there can also be too much light.

*****

One last thing I found when assembling pics for the post were Folding Candle-lanterns.

They were used from about the mid-1700s to the later 20th century (Swiss Army ca. 1978) as travel accessories and emergency equipment, and IMO - I've Made A Note - they'd fit right into a fantasy world whose tech level was able to make them.

The first and last are reproductions: this one is real, from about 1830.

The clear part was mica - a transparent mineral which can be split into thin flexible sheets - while others use horn / parchment, though both of these are translucent rather than transparent. Regardless, all were far less likely to break than glass.

One or two inner surfaces were usually tin, giving the lantern its own built-in reflector, and tech-level-wise, tin as a shiny or decorative finish has been used since Roman times.

I'm pretty sure that top-of-the-line models could also have been finished with their own matching, maybe even built-in, tinderboxes.

And if real ones didn't, fictional ones certainly could. :->

*****

Yet more period lighting stuff here, including flintlock alarm clocks (!)

[emberwhite]

Do people judge a book by its cover? They absolutely do. They take one look at this, and they either often instantly hate it or love it.

Talking about how things should be is just yelling into the void. There is just reality. And this is the reality of being a self-published indie author.

People make complete conclusions based off of incomplete information. In this case, my book, there are no adults pressuring the boy into getting any surgery. There's no mention of surgery at all even. This person is thinking of a children's book written by a very popular political figure. Some people have had the courtesy to ask me if it's like that book. It's not at all. It's not even political. It's a story told from the perspective of a kid who grows up knowing they are very different and yet can tell no one about it. Even saying a word about it would bring all of his deepest and darkest fears into reality.

The challenge was to make the story as dark and scary as I could without ever going too far for a children's book. There are already some scary children's books and movies out there that prove what's possible, and I worked with my illustrator, Marta, to push it as far as we could go. There's one page we had to re-do almost completely because even I said that's a bit much.

But I'm very happy with the final result because we also got to do so many fun and colorful pages like this.

There will be plenty more drive-by reviews as the book continues to grow and grow. They take one look and see a soapbox to express all of their disappointments and frustrations in life.

I think they might be scared of the book. The world they grew up in is slowly fading away day by day, and it's all they have come to know. They've been around for so long that everything has become a bore to them, and the only remaining pleasure is to escape into the past in order to better preserve it. I can oddly relate, actually.

So the book is on Amazon, and you can watch the whole thing for free on YouTube as well. If you get the chance, let me know what you think. Literally, watching it for free and then giving it a simple rating on Amazon is the best way to support the book. But I also love waking up to reviews like this every day.

[calebrity]

omg I saw your post about frontman!sylus in a squid game au! now the rot is taking over my brain

does sylus have a heartbreaking moment with the reader where he fake dies like the real frontman does in the show? I can imagine it so clearly where reader is devastated that someone she's become so close with is taken from her in one of the last few rounds of the game... until she wins and is escorted to the office where he unmasks and her heart drops in relief that he's alive! but wait... why are you up here, all cleaned up and in a similar uniform to the guards?.. until it finally clicks and the relief morphs into horror...

would love to hear your thoughts!

frontman! sylus

cw. squidgame! au, manipulation, being held hostage, yandere themes, 1.5k

an. nonnie i loooove the way you think!! 😣sorry i was sitting on this but im actually obsessed & just wanted to give it some extra thought bc your idea is 🔥🔥 MWAH sorry its a lil long im insane and sleepy lol :,)

Frontman! Sylus is unreachable to most guards.

With the attention the games require of him and other related matters (communication, keeping the place under wraps, organizing meetings, just to name a few), it’s gonna take a little more than just a red mask to score a conversation with him. He’s worked for. Not worked with. To most, he’s just a deep, mechanical voice who stands tall behind a wall of television screens, and someone in so much power that it’s implicitly understood that he is not to be fucked or toyed with. So all obey him.

He expects nothing but order and blind loyalty and even though it brings a certain monotony he can’t quite shake, he gets exactly what he demands.

Frontman! Sylus is disgustingly wealthy through underhanded means, but he’s oddly classy for someone who holds a mantle earned entirely through blood and violence. This is one big dirty game he oversees, but the contestants know what they’re signing up for, so he can’t really will himself into guilt when they’re all the same— different faces and names but identical minds and hearts. Corrupted. Selfish.

Sylus values a purity that cannot be found within the massive walls of red light green light as players push and step over each other; dalgona, as idiotic sheep use contraband lighters and sweat as a ticket to the next game; mingle, as the more irredeemable of the men yank women from their rooms and lock the door behind them. Sylus also values a purity that does not exist within himself, or not anymore: whatever he had of that is beaten to a pulp as hours pass behind an obsidian mask and he grows colder for it.

Richer, too, so powerful it’s scary— but that’s beside the point.

With every match he witnesses, he loses another scrap of faith he had in humanity. To be fair, he knows he’s no saint, he would never claim to be, but—

But when you come along— a bungling girl who’s landed herself in a debt she can’t hope to climb out of, surprisingly kind to the others but a bit too naive- resourceful, though, enough to inspire the success of several other contestants— his world tilts. A hand reaches through the static of his screen and dares to lift his mask. He sees your pretty face staring agog at the floating piggybank when he closes his eyes: the aquamarine jersey, the white label 109, seared into his conscience and there to stay.

And at first, he’s intrigued more than anything. It’s just curiosity. Maybe a little bit of mean amusement too, okay sure- he’ll admit it’s a whit hard to not chuckle when you cutely plead for the bathroom to a stoic guard(— it’s alright, let 109 in— ) who’s just not hearing you or nearly fall off your bunk amidst a very fitful sleep.

But those feelings that develop within the span of a couple days are nothing too crazy, nothing he can’t manage and process.

For a short time.

You seem a silly, clumsy girl at face value, your trembling hands, clear as day through the monitor, a blatant sign of the fear you do a damn bad job at hiding- yet it’s not enough to cloud your mind. You prevail through the games and pull some unexpected, winning move right when he’s convinced you’ll succumb to stupidity, a mistake (either yours or another’s), or the malicious will of someone you’d looked at as a friend mere moments before the timer started.

You’re clever. Adaptive. He’s reminded of bunnies and how even the smallest, fairest of creatures have the base survival instinct in them; you’ll do what you must to make it out of here.

Your half-baked plan of going along with the flow and later adjusting to it is as unreliable as it is unable to be helped- you don’t have much better options in such an unpredictable environment. It goes surprisingly well, though, and earns both the respect and attention of an otherwise unfeeling frontman.

Well, it goes well up until it doesn’t. It goes well until it’s nighttime and the lights go out and Sylus braces for utter chaos to unloose itself between the bunks— unexpectedly stiff behind his screen as he searches for your figure amidst a collage of thermal shapes. Your ragtag group of misfits (the unwanted: elderly folk, females and the disabled) is attacked and takes an impressive stand, but you’re just a girl at the end of the day, and your foes are more numbered, so much bigger and infinitely more cruel—

Sylus rushes out the viewing room, briskly replacing his ominous, black garb for a teal-blue tracksuit. There’s no questions asked; the guards carry on with their jobs quietly, noting their boss’s strange behavior with a little jerk of their heads but no outward shock is risked beyond that.

They give him a wide berth because the look smoldering in ruby-red eyes is frightening.

Sylus decides right then, in the unfurling havoc, that he’s sure as hell no saint but he can play the part for a few games if it means saving your ass now.

And eventually, when it’s dwindled down to just a few players, he’ll even be a martyr. He’s not entirely sure why he does what he does where your presence is involved, the measures he goes to— all Sylus knows is that he needs to protect you from the fucked-up, dog-eat-dog world (and maybe the consequences of your own financial actions), and maybe endear yourself to him in the process.

…What better way to endear yourself to him than to watch as he consistently puts his life on the line for you throughout the course of the next few games-? snarling in the faces of other hostile, foolish players while you’re cowering behind his broad back, guarding you like a hound as you rest, suggesting his arms as your ulitimate safehouse and whispering shh, sweetie, I won’t let anything get close tonight, so sleep.

To hell with all that— what better way to endear yourself to him than to die in your place?

So he does. Or, you’re all but convinced he does, and that’s all that matters.

In the last round, more or less the grand finale of the whole game, he goes out like a hero, sacrificing himself for you with a few dying words and a gentle command ‘to remain true to yourself’ as you cup his face for as long as you’re allowed before the red-suited figures almost hesitantly step over and drag him away. Sylus knows telling you his name is risky- even making a short cameo in the activities is life-threatening- but he can’t find it in him to regret it when you’re howling it over the speakers, knelt to the ground and ugly-crying as you shake your fists. No doubt you’re blaming yourself, deciding in your heart that it should’ve been you instead of him.

No, it should’ve been everybody else, kitten, and he made damned sure it was.

Sylus is charmed by it, readying himself by the door as a muffled hubbub of boots echo on the other side, committing your each and every kindness to memory. It wounds him, again to his own surprise, to see you so devastated and know he’s the catalyst for it, but a part of him preens when you’re so wrapped up in your own heartbreak over his supposed death that you forget your handsome cash prize entirely.

Unselfish girl. Beautiful girl. His chest puffs with pride. You really are his girl.

And in the end, all of these rotten games were worth it, the time and violence and the better part of his humanity. Even if you don’t quite realize that yet, stumbling through his door with wobbling knees and a ruddy face that quickly warps with a plethora of emotions- confusion, relief, and then a brilliant look of mortification that steals the breath from his lungs- even if it takes time and patience on his end to work you through it. He’ll gently assure that he won’t hurt you, that you’ll never end up as an insignificant player in those childish killing fields again.

He’ll scoop your broken pieces up in his strong arms and tuck you under his chin, to his breast, murmuring sweet nothings as he sends his watchful unit of guards a quiet look to leave the room. And of course they do because they value their heads.

“You did well, Sweetie- but don’t forget about your prize, hm? Tonight, I’ll give you more than you could possibly imagine,” he plants a kiss to your forehead, sickeningly tender, and knuckles aside the hair matted there, damp from all your needless sobbing.

He chuckles lightly, voice velvety soft. “I think some… thanks are in order, don’t you?”

[theseinfernalangels]

Kiss It Better? — Sawyer Henrick

Synopsis: Sawyer comes back from sparring in need of a little TLC (Mender!Reader).

A/N: The voices got too loud. I’m giving myself the responsibility for filling up the Sawyer tag since my boy doesn’t have that many fics for some odd reason. A little bit suggestive, but not enough to warrant a huge warning.

Includes: Fluff, hurt-comfort, Sawyer being touch-starved. Takes place during Iron Flame.

     With a heavy thud, you slam your textbook shut and groan into the silence of your empty room. You loved Violet Sorrengail, truly, but her commitment to studying books from front to back was honestly excruciating. For such a small woman, she had huge brain, and even bigger patience when it came to historical academia.

     You could not relate. You’d rather re-memorize the muscular system than read another Brief History of Navarre excerpt. You silently curse your boyfriend, Sawyer, for making that pact with Violet last year — to teach her combat in exchange for the more academic classes. Sure, her knowledge kept the Iron Squad (and, by extension, you) afloat, but if you looked at another map of Navarre’s evolving borders, you’d just about lose it.

    You pause. Wait. Speaking of which…Where was your aforementioned boyfriend? He usually stopped by your room at least once a day, just to see you and give you some much-needed loving, but you’d only seen a glimpse of him in the morning before he had to go and do his Executive Officer duties. You weren’t necessarily a clingy person, but…You missedhim. Like, a lot. Maybe it was because it was almost that time of the month, or maybe because you’d gotten so used to seeing him all the time — you weren’t exactly sure.

     Your dragon, Cridhe, lets out an amused rumble. “Never have I heard you yearn for the Russet One’s company so hard.”

     Your lips droop into an indignant pout. “I’m not yearning,” you argue. “I just…Oh, dammit. You’re right. I’m pathetic, Cridhe. I miss him.”

     Cridhe snorts. “Pathetic isn’t necessarily the word I’d use, Ciúin. Perhaps infatuated. Definitely not pathetic.”

     He abruptly adds, “Trust me, I’ve seen plenty of pathetic humans in my time. You being oddly clingy to the Russet One is just you being a young woman.”

     You raise an eyebrow. Trust your own dragon to reduce your love into girlhood. “You sound like my dad.”

     Cridhe barks out a laugh. “I can assure you, I do not sound like Major Callahan. I think I’d need to have a little more audacity to my character.”

     Before you can respond, there’s a familiar knock at your door. Two long knocks and then a short one, followed by what sounds like the rapping of a single finger against the wood. Your special knock. Sawyer.

     I really need to figure out how to modify the wards so he can just walk in himself, you think as you slide off your bed and swing your door open. You’re met with tired but amused eyes as Sawyer leans against the side of your door, patiently waiting for you to pull him in. You open your mouth to greet him cheerfully — the literal sight of him has boosted your mood tremendously — before you falter.

     “Were you…sparring?” you ask, tilting your head. He’s got a split lip, and bruises seem to trail over his neck and under his shirt. It’s nothing new, but it definitely alarms you.

     His soft smile warms your heart. “Yeah. Seems like that one girl in your squad, Holt, had it out for Aetos earlier. She decided to use me as her personal punching bag.”

     You snort, grabbing his hand and yanking him into your room. “Not surprised. Those two have got issues.”

     Sawyer closes the door behind him and wastes no time in settling on your bed. At the beginning of your relationship, he would have just stood awkwardly in the corner and waited for you to tell him that, Yes, you’re fine, you can sit. Now, though, he’s less hesitant and just plops down, looking at you expectantly.

     Another great thing about Sawyer Henrick: He was just as clingy as you.

     You practically float over to him, climbing on to his lap and throwing your arms around him. You tuck your face into his neck and breathe in his scent — woodsy, with the slightest hint of vanilla — and sigh. “Missed you.”

     His chest rumbles gently as he laughs. “So I heard. Sliseag told me so.”

     Your eyebrows furrow for a moment. How would Sawyer’s dragon know you missed him?

     “Oh,” you huff quietly when you connect the dots. “Dammit, Cridhe.”

      Your dragon’s silence practically confirms his guilt. Sawyer laughs a little harder at your ensuing complaints. “It’s alright, darling. I missed you, too. I didn’t get to see you earlier.”

     You draw back enough to face him and actually look at him. In the dying sunlight, he looks ethereal. Even with a split lip and bruised skin, the sun makes his hair look more orange, and his freckles stand out in the light. If you weren’t so tired, you’d count every single one of them and then retrace your steps about five times over.

     “It’s okay,” you reply, tracing his features with a single finger. “That just means you get to stay here longer.”

     The wince he looses when your finger brushes over his lips doesn’t make it past you. “Sore?”

     He nods and then averts his gaze. When he looks back to you, you notice that his cheeks have turned a little pink. “…Kiss it better?” he queries, his voice a little hesitant. It seems old mannerisms die hard, especially for a shy boy like him.

     Fortunately for you, you were dying to get your lips on him anyway. You study his bruises for a moment, your eyes trailing down to his neck. Yeah, sundown was definitely his time; he looked utterly divine despite his skin being marred with flecks of purple. Your finger snags the edge of his shirt, pulling it down to expose more bruising. You meet his eyes for a moment, his pupils slightly dilated and sparkly as ever. Cute.

     You lean down, brushing your lips against his neck and allowing your signet to ignite and soothe the skin of his throat. His breath catches, his fingers gripping your waist a little harder at the heated rush that sings against his skin.

     “Not what I had in mind,” he murmurs, his words a little shaky, “but…Damn, darling. You’re something else, aren’t you, sweet girl?”

     You smile against his neck as you keep moving your lips up and around the damaged skin, shifting your thighs slightly as you lean closer to him. “Not really,” you hum against his skin. “You’re just sensitive sometimes.”

     He can’t — and doesn’t — argue with you. He barely opens his mouth in fear of any soft noises escaping him as you kiss up his throat, Mending his bruises little by little as you go. You’re not sure where this desire of yours came from; maybe it’s because you haven’t seen Sawyer for a little longer than you’d like, or maybe it’s because he just looks too good like this, or maybe it’s because you’re not too great at shielding yet and Cridhe is quite the romantic dragon. You’re not sure, but you’re egged on by the feeling of rough fingertips scraping against the hem of your shirt, threatening to dip under to the skin of your stomach if you continue.

     You suddenly get a bright idea. 

     Pausing in your movements, you ask him, “Sawyer? Did you miss me, too?”

     He barely registers your question, his eyes glued shut and his mind swimming in the velvet sensation of your lips on him. He cracks an eye open, though, once you speak, his voice breaking slightly. 

     “Of course I did, darling,” he sighs. “Like I said, I barely — Shiiiit.”

     His words are cut off by a ragged curse as you trace the warm tip of your tongue in a figure-eight around one last purple mark by his pulse point, which pounds furiously under your mouth.

      Sawyer groans. “You evil, evil woman. You set me up.”

     You grin, sweetly pecking his jaw. “Maybe,” you giggle, drawing back from the crook of his neck to look at him fully. Your lovely, patient boyfriend was looking at you through half-lidded eyes, his chest heaving as though your lips had produced some sort of chokehold on him. Maybe, in a way, you had, given how he gripped your hips with his short nails digging into your flesh.

     You lean in, nose-to-nose, your mouth barely brushing his lips. “Something tells me,” you add, your hand moving to rest on his shoulder, “that you’re not going to complain about it.”

     He closes the distance between you two, catching you slightly off-guard. You snap out of your daze, though, early enough that you can reach with one hand to cup his jaw to keep his face still as you press your lips firmly to the wound on his, your signet Mending the flesh with a rush of heat to accompany the oddly satisfying feeling of his lip knitting itself back together. The feeling makes his hands drop and grab at the nearest part of you — the back of your thighs — and squeeze, forcing a sharp inhale from you.

     Sawyer pulls back (much to your dismay), his hands shaking as he reaches for the hem of his shirt. You almost ask what he thinks he’s doing, but he slowly drags the fabric up, exposing the skin of his toned stomach…Which also happens to be littered with yellow and purple bruises.

     He just looks at you, his expression unreadable. “These, too?”

     You can’t help the fond but mischievous smile that graces your lips as you peck his newly-Mended lower lip. “I thought you’d never ask, pretty boy.”

[ohmy-gojo]

ceo! shouto having a crush on his cute assistant!reader

"mr. todoroki? would you like coffee?" you softly smiled at him.

shouto never felt the need to have an assistant. he was organized, having every file sort in alphabetical and color coded order, and all the important times and dates were written on his laptop. he was capable of handling himself just fine.

his dad on the other hand, suggested he should get one, saying how this will help him save time. with natsuo supporting his father's words and touya chiming in too ('itd be nice if the assistant is adorable,' he said) shouto ended up agreeing. he supposes some free time for himself is actually what he needed

so thats were you came, looking way out of place in this giant office of theirs. you were probably the youngest worker here and with a sunny smile on your face, an ipad decorated with stickers and handbag full of keychains you stuck out like a sore thumb in an office which mostly consisted of suit wearing officers or sleep deprived employees.

at first he was a little confused by you smiling so much, working in this company is really not fun at all. the workers under his father go through hell and are most of the time cranky because of it (he wouldnt say theyre mean.. but his father could be a lot so he understands) so he expected them to be a little.. rough with you? but apparently you won them over (it really didnt take much, you just made coffee for them sometimes)

you actually were quite diligent in your work. you adapted to his work routine and managed his schedule and work related things quite well. but at the same time you were a bit more on the friendly side. during lunch or coffee breaks you would come and chat with him. and sometimes when he skipped meals or was working overtime, you would gently scold him and offer to write the paperworks for him. on lunch time you would both have lunch together in his office with you talking about some random thing and he would listen to you attentively. you had offhandedly once asked him what his favorite food was one day and the next day you made him cold soba packed in a bento. sometimes you also make him take a walk with you near the park by their office building when you notice he should take a break. it was your first job so he could tell you didnt know that it was a bit unprofessional to act this way with your boss, but secretly he enjoyed your conversations or the way you doted on him.

it wasnt until touya said his assistant 'was such a doll' and how he wants you as his assistant, he started to feel oddly jealous. why was he feeling this way towards his assistant? he asked fuyumi, who laughed at his clueless look and said maybe he has a crush on you. he blinked. thats where everything started clicking in, so him being happy with you doting on him, his heart stuttering when your hands brushed while giving him files or being possessive (although silently) over you was all because of his crush on you??

so he planned on confessing to you, now that he could name his feelings he wanted to share it with you, like you share your last onigiri with him. but everytime he was scared, what if you rejected him? what if you liked touya?! lately he also found you absolutely beautiful and your smile, oh your smile now makes him absolutely nervous to spell out his feelings to you. like the way youre smiling at him now–

wait has he been staring at you and getting lost again? you asked him a question probably 5 minutes ago and are still staring at him expectantly and he was just staring at you like a fool?! you waved a hand in front his face to get his attention.

"Are you off to the dreamland again?" you giggled. "I wonder what you always think so hard about, is it cold soba?"

he huffed. he couldnt tell you it was far from cold soba.. it was your pretty eyes.

he should really confess soon so he doesnt end up making a fool in front of you again and get teased by you... maybe it would be his turn to fluster you from now on? he smiled at his thoughts.

[toto-the-cactus]

Primarchs + Daughters (2)

Finally finished the damn part two. Been kinda busy here and there with my new job but lo and behold, the one yall asked for. Soon enough, yall find out why it took me a while writing this one for the two main guys I had to add here.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Konrad Curze

A’right, I’ll open this one with the fact we all know that this man shouldn’t even be legally allowed to have children. I’m gonna be real for a hot second and admit that I stared at the screen for HOURS not knowing what to write because any poor little girl that is born from this guy will have the dubious privilege of being the most sheltered and hidden secret the Primarch ever kept close. With all those visions of death and inevitable doom mixed with the sudden power rush that fatherhood gave him, it left in its wake a perfect storm for this lunatic to develop a paranoid and obsessive need (NEED) to keep his daughter safe; something hard to achieve when he already knows the essence of his Legion. His fatalistic nature regarding his own future would suddenly clash violently with the Primarch’s new found protective stance concerning his child. It's almost sad to consider that this poor man GENUINELY wished to avoid becoming the monster his visions showed, but knowing that he’ll be balancing in the thin line of one day hurting his precious girl (or worse than that) it'll put him in the hard decision of having to let go of her eventually. He is no Perturabo, for that matter. In the rare and far away moments of lucidity, I can see Konrad choosing to protect the innocence and life of his child by trusting in the last person ANYONE might expect the Night Hunter would seek help: Vulkan. Honestly this is just plain sad, man.

Sanguinius

This is it! The golden boy, yall! We all know the kind of person Sanguinius is, but add a precious little daughter in the equation and all you get is the perfect example of textbook girl dad. No matter how busy this man is, somehow he’ll squish some playtime with his baby and enjoy every bit of it. Seriously, this guy acting like a dedicated father is worth being in a stockphoto image. His baby girl asks him to play tea party? Some astartes will find their Primarch hunched over, awkwardly holding a comically small cup between his thumb and index while his precious princess pretends to pour more tea for herself. The daughter of Sanguinius doesn't go a single day without knowing that her papa loves her a lot and when the man isn’t around, the Blood Angels Legion are close to keep her company to the point that even she calls them ‘big brothers’. No one is safe when she wants to play dress-up. The single problem I see with Sanguinius when raising his little girl is that he sins of being completely oblivious to the more mortal side of his daughter’s needs. He easily gets so wrapped up in his role of The Perfect Angel that he doesn’t realize his tiny princess has boundaries that are being constantly crossed, but since she feels the need to prove that she can be like her father, endures all those problems and refuses to seek help about anything. It becomes a kind of toxic mix considering how much Sanguinius is loved and adored by others, to the point that his daughter becomes like a coveted gem too by relation, making her need to prove her own ‘perfection’ an unconscious action the older she grows. I’m not even gonna touch with a ten feet pole the “fun fact” called the Red Thirst on this one because, let's be fair, that would require for me to write more than 3 pages with ONLY Sanguinius and his daughter in the spotlight and that’s only assuming his baby girl didn’t inherit it. I specialized in visual arts and marketing, not psychology jfc.

Ferrus Manus

It took me a while but after some investigating and more reading I can safely put this man in between the Papa-tier and ‘tough love’ guys. His practical mentality and belief of the strongest are (oddly enough) healthily separated from his parenting skills. This is one of the few Primarch that can see their daughter as an individual of their own and makes sure to be as present as possible in her life but the loyalty of this man to the Emperor is his own flaw. Not in the case that he’ll choose the Imperium before his little girl, but because it’ll put him in the dreading and guilty notion that he’ll always prioritize his daughter despite his oath to serve for the Great Crusade. Most of his brothers (except maybe Jaghatai and Konrad) just assume or don’t even think about the long term future of their daughters or simply presume that they will become a great part of the Imperium’s well oiled structure. Not exactly their fault since they never grew up with anything resembling normal. On the brighter and wholesome side (whiplash change!), this is a man who finds handmade gifts more meaningful and always makes sure to explain the reason behind them mostly out of the enjoyment of watching his little princess look so amazed at her papa’s skills. More often than not, Ferrus’ belief of the strongest would falter a little as he perceives the true fragile nature of his daughter and, even if she share the resilient blood of a Primarch, that isn’t enough to convince him that she isn’t vulnerable but instead of letting the worry fester, he’ll try to teach the girl the art of fighting. That’s where the ‘tough love’ kind of guy I mentioned comes out to light. He will not spare kind words during those moments of teaching, as he wishes for his princess to prevail any difficulty but he’ll make sure to always end any sort of training with “I love you so much that the idea of one day not being there to protect you, pains me beyond any form” to make sure that his harsh actions have a reason behind. Honestly, it's the kind of father-daughter relationship that possesses so many shades that makes its own drama novel. Good thing that uncle Fulgrim is always there to smooth the hard edges that may come in the future and makes up for the lack of spoiling the little girl deserves. Ferrus is not amused by it. Forgot to mention that the Primarch will be even more motivated to take off the metal of his hands, for he has yet to truly feel the warm and soft flesh of his baby’s hand. It's the one feeling he keeps missing and craves so much.

Angron

Oh man, another of the hard ones. Okay, if I managed with Konrad, I can tackle this bitch too. You need to comprehend that we are talking about a guy that has been so intimate with the meaning of pain that it's amazing he’ll be capable of ranging through other emotions that don’t involve fury into that combo too. That being said, this whole shitshow of being the father of a young girl can only be described as sad AND tragic. First off, Angron’s daughter wouldn’t even be allowed to leave her chambers at The Conqueror for obvious safety reasons and having her stay on Terra can’t be an option too, as Angron would rather be death than leave in a silver plate this one single pittance of good he helped to create under the light of the Emperor. That being said, any little girl born from Angron would be terribly isolated and one can’t even blame the Primarch for that as he, despite his disposition, finds his daughter as a genuine reflection of what he could never ever dream to have or be. That sometimes results in him feeling short and spontaneous moments of anger from the impotence of not being able to be close to his daughter, let alone console her with anything resembling compassion. This is a man that is horribly aware that he’s away from one sharp stab of the Nails to his brain to end up killing his little girl in one single swat of his hand. The moments of anything resembling fatherly love are few and very tense, for Angron has to constantly be focused on not letting the pain control his actions and that always looks as if he’s dismissing his child’s love language or actions. What else can I say that most people don’t know already? This is just a sad story waiting to end in tragedy and had it not been for how Sanguinius ended during the heresy, I can see The Great Angel taking Angron’s daughter under his care as the only consolation and promise to his corrupted brother before his demise. After becoming a Daemon Prince, Angron’s only genuine and foggy memory of his little girl is her crying while calling him with heavy despair. Goddamn I almost tear up with this one.

Roboute Guilliman

Look at my big nerd! One of the few guys that actually is humble enough to feel more human than any of his brothers… sometimes. I gotta say it, Roboute has the vibe of what happens when someone incredibly autistic suddenly becomes a parent; expect lots of books to try and be prepared for what entails to take care of a mortal baby. He’ll have a wholeass strict routine of activities and diets that you AND the baby must follow to ensure both of your health along with “fun facts” regarding a toddler’s development that half of the time lack the keyword ‘fun’ in there. Honestly, Euten will be a BLESSING sent, for she’ll be the one railing back the most extreme attempts of her adoptive son to try and raise his little princess like she was just another task of paperwork. Over all his quirks, the Primarch of the Ultramarines is absolutely trying his hardest to be a good father just as the one that raised him, but this is a man that half of the time ends up clumsily trying to spend time with his little girl only for it to backfire as he simply doesn’t understand how to entertain his daughter. Good thing the child will simply be happy to spend time with her papa despite his weird personality. More often than not, some of the astartes will see the young lady at her father’s chambers in a little booster chair beside him, doodling on some papers to pretend that she’s a big girl helping her papa with his very important job. It's probably the most adorable sight anyone can ever get the chance to see. Just like most of his brothers, Roboute isn’t that good at expressing his love towards his daughter with words, so he simply let his little princess be on his lap and hug her as if it will be the last time.

Mortarion

I’ve written enough of this man being a father that you all can get a wild idea of how he will be when confronted with parenthood. Even if he believes himself to be undeserving of anything resembling happiness thanks to his perception of being nothing but a tool of the Emperor, this guy will only need to see his precious little flower and feel like everything in the world can be forgotten, including his ever festering negative emotions. His daughter is the single light of love that he selfilish believes is his right after such torturous upbringing although that mentality rarely affects his princess, as he simply shows nothing but care and tenderness towards her. He may be a nervous trainwreck, fully aware that his Legion and himself aren’t exactly safe-hazardous, but that never has stopped him from doing his utmost best to protect the little girl from anything that may hurt her. Like most of his traitorous brothers, Mortarion would not hesitate to bring entire worlds into devastation if it meant that his family can be safe, even if that’ll end up making a terrible gap to grow between him and those he loves. It's quite terrible and sad to know that, unlike Fulgrim or Angron, Mortarion was the closest to his daughter and showered her with as much genuine love as he could in an attempt to avoid being anything like his supposed father (adopted or creator equally), so when he turned into a Daemon Prince, the festering and rotting resentment that consumes him sometimes simmers down when he remembers the laugh of joy his little princess often released when he would carry her up in his arms. Oh yes, some good ol’ gut-wrenching emotional damage, teehee.

I will not apologize for being a mean bitch by writing sad shit. XOXO

[gakukitty]

03 . LONELY GIRL

featuring. . . SHIN ASAKURA + FEM!READER

summary . being around these weirdos make you feel something . something different from the rush of killing , different from the pounding in your chest after training .

cw . a little bit sad if u squint rlly hard , and i don’t rlly know what else !

masterlist ✦ next

as you stand before the Sakamoto family’s shop, you think you’re going to fall over and pass out on the spot. you came here because you need the money from mr. Sakamoto’s bounty. your lipstick is waiting for you— looking so pretty in the store’s glass window. she looks at you every day, basically begging to be taken home with you. she will be yours. you will wear that lipstick today after killing mr. Sakamoto and claiming the bounty. yes, you will! you will!!

however, when you finally step inside, the air conditioning lightly brushing over your face— you really can’t bring yourself to think of anything related to your job. your gaze drifts across the store, a quiet sigh escaping your lips. so much for the money, you guess.

you walk over to the aisle with makeup remover— you forgot to get some last time you were here. not that you would’ve had a chance to get it even if you did remember.

“here.” shin says, already holding out the item for you. flinching, you blink back at the man with slightly widened eyes. you glance down at the makeup remover; the exact one you were just thinking of. this guy’s good.

“thank you, shin.” you mutter, gently grabbing the item from him. you give the man a hesitant look, feeling uneasy from that weirdly kind smile on his face. he looks good— very good— but you’re not particularly used to such warmth. wasn’t this guy supposed to be like mr. sakamoto? an ex-assassin?

then again, it seems everyone here is oddly sweet.

you can’t remember the last time someone’s looked at you with eyes that sparkle like that.

in your little daydreams, you fail to notice the way shin’s becoming increasinginly more flustered. you’re looking at him so closely, and everything you’re thinking at the moment is a mix between sparkly hearts and thunderstorms. he can’t get a read on you— or maybe he’s just too distracted by you. more specifically, the way your lips are parting and your lashes flutter.

you’re both hauled out of your eye-contact when someone comes crashing into the shop, flass shattering everywhere. shin clicks his tongue— mr. sakamoto’s not gonna be happy.

you’re quick to pull out your pistol, aiming and shooting at the intruder. dead instantly.

“hey!” shin flounders, eyes wide. yeah, mr. sakamoto’s definitely not going to be happy! “you can’t just— how did you— i thought your—“

“i think you’re cuter when you’re not flailing around like a fish abour a bit of blood, y’know.” you deadpan, glancing back at shin. that’s a lie. you think he’s cute all the time. but you won’t tell him that.

too bad, he can read minds.

shin looks back at you, his cheeks flushed with that shade of pink you’ve become so familiar with, and you swear you could feel your heart beat just a little faster. not in the same way it beats after a kill, not in the same way it quickens during a date— but an entirely new pace that you really can’t control.

“uh—“

you’re cut off by a figure— the assassin that you thought you killed earlier— standing back up. you immediately shriek, arms wrapping around shin and clinging onto him like a lifeline as a yelp escapes his lips.

“what. the. fuck!!” you shout, shoving the blonde-haired man in front of you. ghosts are totally not your thing. i mean, haven’t you heard about thise stories of the souls of people you’ve killed coming back to haunt you?! no freakin’ way! this cannot be happening right now!!

“chill,” shin pleads, a hand reaching to grab yours. that has the opposite effect. you’re already scrambling away from shin, and that freak in front of the two of you as you clutch onto one of the shelves.

“(name)—“

“AHHHGGHH!! GET IT AWAAAYYY!!” you squeal, a shaky hand pointing back at the figure. did it just grow another head?! you think you’re about to pass out.

“uh.. Lu? Heisuke?” shin mutters skeptically, taking a step closer. your eyes widen; grasp tightening on the shelf. goodbye, cruel world. you can’t believe that shin’s going to surrender to that creature—

“HAHAHAH, SHIN, YOU SHOULD’VE SEEN THE LOOK ON YOUR FACE!” Lu beams, slapping her knee as she giggles and laughs. Heisuke smiles brightly from beside her, and it’s only now that it starts to click with shin.

they wore a costume and pretended to be an assassin.

you crack an eye open hesitantly, and your jaw drops. that red-haired girl and the funny bird guy.. your cheeks suddenly feel quite warm.

“was that supposed to be a prank?” you mumble, almost shyly; shin thinks you look very cute. the way your eyes avert at Lu’s teasing, the way you huff at Heisuke’s little jab. you’re much more suited for a life with them.

even if you are better suited for a life with the Sakamoto family, you refuse to submit. so after an afternoon of kidding around and cleaning up the mess from earlier, you don’t really hesitate stepping outside.

next time you’ll get that bounty money, for sure.

“(name), wait.” shin says, jogging up behind you. he looks back at you, suddenly feeling slightly hesitant. “let me walk you home.”

you just stare back at him. you don’t know if you should feel offended or flattered at his offer. the guy knows that you’re a skilled assassin, yet he still tries to be a gentleman? you keep quiet for a few moments, silently thinking over how to respond.

“alright, sure. i’ve never been one to deny a pretty boy, anyways.” you draw out, lips quirking up into a smile. a smile that shin’s grown to like a lot. he’s not quite sure about these feelings, but after an embarrassing conversation with mrs. Sakamoto, he’s decided to see where these emotions leads him.

the sun begins to set, and you find yourself yawning softly; today’s been pretty eventful. you’re not even this tired after missions. man, having fun can be pretty exhausting sometimes.

“…you should quit being an assassin.”

“not happening.”

shin sighs; mumbling a soft “it was worth a shot” under his breath as he glances over to you. he pauses, stumbling just slightly.

you’re very beautiful under the glow of the sunset.

you stop, looking back at shin as he straightens up. your eyes meet, the breeze gently brushing through your hair. for a moment, you’d almost believe that time had stopped.

befote you cough softly, quickly turning straight ahead and starting to walk again. your heart’s beating so fast. so, so fast. this is so weird, so unlike anything you’ve ever felt before.

the rest of the walk sort of passed by in a blur of emotions, eventually whisking you away and guiding you to the door to your apartment.

you look back at each other, the faint glow of the lamo above flickering slightly. by now, the sun has set and the moon has risen; leaving you feeling awfully vulnerable.

it’s something about the darkness, that just leaves you feeling so .. emotional. or maybe it’s the man standing infront of you, looking at you with those pretty eyes of his.

“thank you for walking me home.” you finally speak, your usual charisma vanishing. you’ve been able to charm many men into this very same apartment; but you can’t bring yourself to do the same with shin.

“uh, yeah.” he trails off, lifting a hand to rub the back of his neck esther awkwardly. something’s telling him that he should stay. but he really can’t put his finger on it. think, shin! think! what did mrs. Sakamoto tell you…

‘just go with what feels right!’ her kind voice rings through his mind, like a gentle bell that’s ongoing. shin averts his gaze for a moment, before finally locking eyes with you.

and something, something that he really can’t tell what it is, pushes him to lean closer. his hand moves to cup your cheek, thumb brushing over the skin.

he’s never done this before, so he’s slightly unsure. but judging by the look on your face, the thoughts running through your mind, shin finds himself closing the gap between your lips.

it’s a soft, chaste kiss; but just enough to answer the questions you two have been agonising over.

shin blinks slightly as you pull away, a flustered expression on your face as you scramble to open your apartment door. and before he can open his mouth to speak, it’s already slammed shut in his face.

© gakukitty please don’t copy my work , repost it and claim as your own , translate , or do anything stupid with it ! try and improve on ur own skills first ♡

[itsnesss]

hi can I please make a request for Axel Kovacevic. Just finished season 6 and I’m in love with him. I’m thinking super fluffy where he and y/n meet at the tournament and it’s like love at first sight. He can show her around Barcelona and maybe they finally kiss or something and with her teammate’s (Miyagi-Do ) reactions to their relation ship. Maybe also something with the huge fight at the end and the cobra Kai guy kicks y/n and axel goes all protective mode and comforts her after beating up the other guy. Sorry this is so long I’m just rambling😅

𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐚 | axel kovacevik × fem!reader

summary | they fall in love at first sight and he shows you places in Barcelona while confessing his feelings to you, a bit of reactions from his friends at Miyagi-Do

warnings | fluff, romance, emotional tension

word count | 1.5 k

Ever since you saw him defeat the Cobra Kai guys in the first match, something changed inside you. There was something about the way Axel fought: so direct, so confident, without hesitation. It wasn't just his combat prowess that had drawn you in, but the way he handled pressure, how he never lost his cool, and that commanding presence that seemed to control the space around him. The guys from Cobra Kai didn't stand a chance, and even though you'd been focused on your own matches, you couldn't help but admire the way Axel moved, with a confidence that was hard to ignore.

That day, after practice, you decided to go out and explore the city a bit. As you were walking down the hallway of the gym, someone caught your eye. You were surprised to see it so close, after having seen it sweep the tatami. He was even more impressive in person, but there was also something different about him. Despite her strong exterior, there was a much softer energy, as if her sincere gaze and reserved smile hid a sweeter and, oddly enough, shy side.

When his eyes met yours, a shiver ran down your spine. It was an instant spark, although you didn't understand what had caused it. Axel looked at you with that confident look, but also a little cautious, as if he wanted to know more about you before taking another step.

"Wow, a Miyagi-Do in person," he said in a soft tone, almost as if apologizing for his closeness.

You couldn't help but blush, though you tried to keep your composure.

"I'm not the only one," you replied, not thinking too much about what you were saying, but the words sounded almost like an apology.

Axel smiled calmly, but his gaze was different.

"First time in Barcelona?" He asked, and his voice had a softness that made you feel comfortable.

"Yes, it's impressive," you said, looking out over the city.

"Would you like me to show you around the city?" There's a lot more to it than the tournament here. "I can show you some of my favorite places," Axel looked at you with a genuine smile.

You were silent, feeling a mixture of confusion and attraction. You hadn't come to Barcelona for sightseeing, but something about their proposal made you think that maybe you needed a break. The city, the atmosphere... Everything seemed so different to you.

"Okay" Finally, you nodded, not quite knowing why, but with the feeling that you didn't want to let that opportunity pass you by.

Axel looked at you with a subtle smile as they walked through the streets of Barcelona together. They had already traveled through several areas, from Park Güell to the Gothic Quarter, and now they were near the Olympic Port, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere while the sound of the sea reached their ears softly.

In the middle of his walk, Axel, who until then had been somewhat reserved, suddenly stopped, looking at you in a way you hadn't seen before. There was something in his eyes, a faint glimmer of vulnerability that you hadn't noticed until that moment.

"You know?" He said, his voice soft, but somewhat more serious. "I know that, sometimes, I can seem intimidating and scary. All that Iron Dragons stuff, the attitude... Many see me as the tough guy. But, actually, I'm a mess when it comes to this." Axel pointed to the space between the two, as if he was referring to something bigger than the simple act of walking together. "You should get a little closer".

You were silent, surprised by his frankness. For a moment, you thought that what he had just said was a confession of insecurity, one that you hadn't expected from someone like him.

"Axel..." you whispered, before pausing for a moment, staring him in the eye. The intensity of his gaze made you feel as if time stood still. And, without thinking too much, you completed your thought: "I'm not afraid of you, not at all."

The relief on his face was immediate. Axel, who had been in a kind of silent tension up until that point, now seemed a little more relaxed. His smile widened, and his posture, which had been somewhat rigid before, now showed a confidence that you had not seen before.

"That makes me feel... Good," he said, and his voice was full of unexpected tenderness. It wasn't just about his words, but how he said them, as if he was sharing something important to him. "People always think that I am someone who is not afraid of anything. But the truth is that there are many things that scare me... And I'm not just talking about the fights or the tournament. There are things I've never known how to handle... like this." He waved his hand, pointing to the air between the two of them, but his gaze was still fixed on yours.

Your heart took a small leap. Although you didn't have a clear idea of what was going on between you and Axel, something in his sincerity touched you deeply. There was something about his attitude that made you feel that all of this, everything that was going on between you, was real. It was not just a whim of the moment or a game. There was something genuine, something that Axel had inadvertently let through.

You got a little closer, not knowing what to say, but feeling a need to be closer to him. Axel did not back down. In fact, he took a small step towards you, until both of you were only a few inches away from each other. The tension between you somehow disappeared. It was as if the world around them was fading away, leaving them both in their own bubble, oblivious to the noise of the city.

"I wish this wasn't just a moment. Don't just make it because of the tournament," Axel spoke again, this time with a seriousness in his tone that made your chest beat faster. You could see in his eyes that he wasn't playing, that his words were serious.

"I'm sorry, but I don't want you to see me as a distraction. Or as something that might interfere with your goal," you said, with a slight nervousness, but you looked at it with determination, as if you were looking for an answer, a confirmation.

Axel let out a soft laugh, almost as if he was telling you without words that you had nothing to worry about.

"I'm not seeing you as a distraction," he said with a calm smile

Then, without warning, Axel moved a little closer, until the touch of his lips touched yours. It was a soft, tender kiss, as if they were both tasting water for the first time, doubtful but determined. It was not a passionate kiss, but it was charged with a feeling of complicity and emotion that enveloped you completely.

When they parted, Axel took a deep breath, as if he had been holding his breath the entire time. His face was more relaxed, and his smile, though shy, was sincere.

You lost count of how many times you had kissed that night before and after arriving at the hotel, it seemed that you had become addicted to him in just a few minutes, unfortunately you both had to rest for the day that awaited you so without wanting to do so you went to your room without stopping thinking about him, and not a little about the consequences it could bring.

The next day was a challenge. The tournament was still everyone's main focus, but for you, there was something more important than competing. As you got ready in the hotel lobby, with your companions by your side, you couldn't help but think about what had happened between you and Axel.

Miguel, Sam, Robby, and Hawk arrived in the lobby, chatting about the fighting, but as soon as they saw you, Hawk's gaze didn't go unnoticed.

"Hey, is that true?" he asked you, his tone somewhat incredulous, but with a hint of curiosity. "Did we see you last night with Axel, the guy from Iron Dragons?"

The question made you pause for a second, your heart racing, as you tried to find the right words.

"What about that?" you replied, not wanting the situation to become more uncomfortable than it already was.

Hawk, frowning, didn't seem entirely convinced.

"Are you messing with that monster?" His tone was sharper than you expected, and for a moment you thought the conversation might become even more tense.

"Don't call him that, Hawk. You don't know him," you replied, defending Axel without a second thought. It surprised even yourself.

Sam, noticing the discomfort in the air, quickly chimed in with a reassuring smile.

"You have to leave it. If she likes it and is happy, that's all that matters" Sam looked at you with support, as if he wanted to defuse the situation before it got any more complicated.

Miguel also raised his hand, joking to lighten the atmosphere.

"Hawk, are you afraid that someone else will steal the limelight?" Miguel said, with a mocking smile, which made the tension in the group decrease a little.

Robby, with his usual calmness, took a step forward.

"Do what you feel is right, but don't let it influence the tournament," Robby smiled at you, trusting that you knew what was best.

"Look who says it," Miguel let out a small laugh, which lightened the atmosphere even more.

Hawk, though still with a somewhat reluctant expression, said nothing more. The atmosphere, although still tense, began to clear.

[thegreatgatslin]

INTRODUCING: THE HUMANITIES AND SOCIAL SCIENCES DEPARTMENT, PART 2 [PART 1 HERE]

                               ✦ MA MEILLEURE ENNEMIE ✦                                           RIN ITOSHI X READER

Y/N L/N (HSS DEPT, ENGLISH LIT) overall rating: 4.3/5 || 85% would take again || 4.3 level of difficulty

51 student ratings:

COURSE: CLASSIC POETRY COMMENTARY would take again: yes || grade: A "prof l/n is a great prof all around. she marks our essays - like ACTUALLY marks them, unlike some profs i know - and gives the best feedback. she makes lectures interesting, even if we’re learning about the driest classical poetry known to man."

COURSE: MODERN LITERATURE ANALYSIS would take again: yes || grade: A "she buys us snacks when we ace her quizzes i love her to bits"

OLIVER AIKU (HSS DEPT, EUROPEAN HISTORY) overall rating: 4.5/5 || 90% would take again || 4.0 level of difficulty

52 student ratings:

COURSE: THE RISE AND FALL OF AUTHORITARIAN REGIMES would take again: yes || grade: B "how is this man still single??? we have to set him up with prof [REDACTED] from [REDACTED] department someday..."

COURSE: THE LEAGUE OF NATION'S SUCCESSES AND FAILURES would take again: yes || grade: A+ "prof oliver?? aiku??? (we don't know which is his first name still) is one of the best educators i've ever had the privilege of meeting. he truly cares for his students and how they learn, and he secretly extends office hours for us sometimes!"

YOICHI ISAGI (HSS DEPT, PSYCHOLOGY) overall rating: 4.7/5 || 78% would take again || 3.9 level of difficulty

70 student ratings:

COURSE: SOCIAL COGNITION would take again: yes || grade: A- "his case studies are oddly specific sometimes and he gets a little too excited when he asks us for our opinions... but he's fun and relatable! highly recommend taking prof hiori's courses along with prof isagi's since they complement each other's so well"

COURSE: MENTAL HEALTH AND DISTRESS would take again: yes || grade: B "once i caught him in an empty classroom rambling on about puzzle pieces forming?? (he's an oddball but he's MY oddball)."

YO HIORI (HSS DEPT, PSYCHOLOGY) overall rating: 4.6/5 || 70% would take again || 3.8 level of difficulty

59 student ratings:

COURSE: SIGMUND FREUD AND HIS THEORIES would take again: yes || grade: B+ "professor hiori might seem like a innocent guy, but just going off how much he knows about sigmund freud... yeah i firmly believe he's a closeted FREAK. chill guy tho."

COURSE: SOCIAL PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS would take again: yes || grade: B "i take prof ness's ethics courses too and prof hiori's classes really help me understand them better"

taglist: @bakery-anon, @shidousveneers, @swelterweather, @ranzess, @saeyari, @blueballslock, @rroxii, @hellothere9597, @inojinieeee, @arwawawa2, @ihsoti, @shironagi, @cyberheartrebel (open, reply to this post to be added)

© thegreatgatslin || ✦ series m.list ✦ || ✦ M.LIST ✦

[juniperdugong]

The games we play - Mingyu

WC: 2.2k || Genre: Fluff || CW: Drinking || husband!mingyu x wife!reader, implied that the reader is well-known in their field of work

A/N: I swear this was supposed to be a drabble or short fic...

It was getting late. The bulk of the guests had already excused themselves to their other nightly duties and that's exactly what you were thinking of doing right now. You wanted to get out of here and get something more substantial to eat than the small appetizers that were becoming more and more scarce.

You knew that this event would drag on late, the company hosting it was notorious for their "after parties" and late gatherings. Honestly, you probably would've gone home by now if it weren't for the man catching your eye from across the floor.

The dim light might've made it hard to see but you knew that silhouette anywhere. The big broad shoulders, the tall frame, even down to the suit that was perfectly tailored to him. Kim Mingyu, oh how wonderful it was to be able to call him your husband.

You were posted up near the bar, nursing a cocktail that tasted more like candy than alcohol. The number you had on was a dress handpicked by Mingyu weeks before your flight over here. He had praised you so much for just putting it on that you practically felt like royalty in it. There was very little that compared to the love he held for you, that's something you were never afraid to admit.

You fight back the urge to bite your lip as you begin to walk towards him but you're stopped in your tracks when you see a woman approach him first. She's beautiful and you can't even deny it. What was there to deny when she was the main event of the fashion show that happened hours prior.

Her gait was nothing if not seductive and she wore a beautiful gown that was only accentuated by the heavy jewels that adorned her body. You couldn't make out what their conversation entailed but you could tell she at least had an eye on Mingyu. The way she would casually touch his arm in a small fit of laughter; Surely whatever he said couldn't be that funny. You raised an eyebrow in amusement and fascination at their antics, striding towards them once again to make a show out of your relationship.

"Y/n, right?" Once again you are stopped, at least this time it's from something/someone tangible.

You turn and put on your practiced business-ready professional smile, the one that lured people in but kept them distant enough to fend off unwanted advances of any kind, business-related or otherwise. Greeting you was a rather handsome man, the type that would have people thank his parents for their generous donation to the world and its beauty. Oddly enough you'd become used to people like this while beside Mingyu.

The conversation went on with the usual, something about how great your work has been, how they've heard so much about you from their colleagues, and, of course, ending with the staple "We should get a drink sometime.". A routine you knew all too well in your line of work. As you bid farewell to the stranger of a man you turn your attention back towards Mingyu - Mingyu who, with a smug smile, waltzes your way and places himself where the other man once stood.

Now the real fun began.

"You come here often?" Ha, you just had to scoff, was this really the way he wanted to start this tonight?

"Come here? Like this event? I think this is the first time they've held this event actually." He knew that sly little smirk on your lips, so you wanted to play it smart tonight and tease him a little for his setup? Bring it on.

"Right, forgive me. I meant the bar-"

"The bar? Do I frequent this bar or bars in general? Either way, it seems you have the wrong idea about me, sir." You were playing hard to get and he was all for it. He would never admit it but he liked a bit of the chase and back and forth, more than that he knew that you loved it - And how could he deprive the love of his life of something they enjoy?

He had to divert and fast! Or else you would overpower him and it's much too early for that. "That man you were speaking with, you two seemed to get along quite well. Someone, you know?"

"Not at all. Just met in fact. But yeah, maybe there was some connection between us... plus he was easy on the eyes." Oh, now you were just doing him dirty. Hard to get is one thing but jealousy? You were going to be the death of him. But you're plan was working. It was a steady rollercoaster of riling him up just to bring him back down and into your arms.

"Hmm, I see... I don't think your husband would be too fond of you speaking that way." He taps at the ring on your finger, putting emphasis on his own ring, the one that mirrors yours. You can tell he's getting annoyed by the way his brows furrow and he's almost pouting, he stays composed but you're hedging your bets that he caves in less than 5 minutes this time.

"What about your wife? Was that her you were talking to over there? Or were you just casually flirting with a beautiful woman for fun behind her back?" Now it was your turn to act annoyed, all was fair when it came to this little game.

"Oh, my wife?" He plays with the band on his ring finger, making sure that it's in your line of sight, "No, that wasn't her. She's much more beautiful and much less willing to give in to me, I love that about her." A small blush falls on your face at his words but you remain calm, it's all about waiting him out. He thinks he's got you though, celebrating quietly in his head as he sees you get red. She'll be dropping the act any moment now...

"You know what I like about my husband?" You pause and see that he's at the edge of his seat waiting to be praised. "He does whatever I tell him to do. Actually, he's waiting in the car for me right now." Huh? You had Mingyu thoroughly confused with the directions this time. The look on his face conveyed something much more than confusion though, he was putty in your hands the moment you finished your last sentence.

The game was done, he'd broken before you did. Mingyu however was still unaware of that fact. At the moment, he's just trying to decipher your words and you have to smile and scrunch your nose at the cute face he makes as he's deep in thought.

Did you want him to go to the car? But then he couldn't walk you out; He began to pout at the thought. Was he supposed to stay in character? But then why would you bring up the car? Aghhh, you had his brain fried.

With a swish of your dress, you turn so your back's against the counter, holding your drink in your hand you take a small sip. "Mingyu baby, go wait in the car for me? I want to finish my drink real quick.", you drop your character and fish the car keys from your clutch, dropping them on the counter between you two.

"W-Why'd you make your husband wait in the car for you? Got somewhere to be this late?" You turned to face him quizzically. Is he still in this? By the look on his face and the way he picks up the keys without question, he knows he's cracked but he's still fishing for answers. With a smile you turn once again to lean your upper body over the counter, a pose that you knew would make him flustered. If he was trying to work for it, then how could you not oblige?

"Well..." You start with a small huff. "You see, I know my husband very well. Well enough that I know that he's still hungry after scarfing down a ton of appetizers tonight." You poke at his belly only to feel his abs, immediately you tear your hand away in fear of what you might do if you kept it there too long. (You had the strength of the gods for being able to pull away, honestly.) "I told him that if waited patiently outside while I finished my drink that I'd get him a hamburger, maybe a few if he was really nice to me tonight."

Oh ho ho ho, you had his interest peaked! People often compared him to a puppy but that side of him really shined through at times like this. He's smart enough to be able to get what he wants regardless of who he's talking to but he'd never even think of being so mischievous with you. He actually really enjoyed you ordering him around sometimes, as strange as that was at the beginning of your relationship.

The whole facade he was trying to keep up crumbled into pieces as he crouched eye level with you and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. You patted at the back of his head as he ravaged your neck with hard pecking kisses, his own brand of thankfulness towards you. Grabbing your shoulder he made you look at him straight on, a determined look on his face.

"Your husband sounds like a very nice and well-mannered man. I'm sure that he'll appreciate anything you'd get him." He got back into character immediately, rushing the last of his words, and lasting a mere few seconds before melting into your touch as you cupped his face with your open hand. He pressed a small kiss to your palm before quickly sandwiching your head between his hands and covering his lips with yours. You giggle into the sudden kiss, he was always so hasty when it came down to it.

With that, he twirled the keys on his fingers and walked out of the event, completely satisfied and content.

It took a few minutes to finish up your drink. In the meantime you scoped out the rest of the scene, it was practically deserted at this point. It's times like this where you're both glad and annoyed that you have Mingyu. On one hand, he's a total social butterfly and it's really helped you get out of your shell... On the other, he always stayed out late when it came to parties and events, he could drink people under the table with ease, and everyone ate up whatever time he was willing to give.

Walking out you spot your car. Of course, it was much closer to the entrance than where you left it. He was trying extra hard to earn brownie points tonight.

Getting in, you let the warmth envelope you. It felt so nice to be in a familiar space after socializing all night. Just as you were getting comfortable you felt a small poke on your thigh. Slowly you turn your head and you practically glow with a smile at the sight.

Mingyu's making puppy eyes, his infamous ones that make people swoon and sigh over him. That coupled with an anticipatory pout, how couldn't your heart melt over him? His hand is resting on the middle console, you pick it up in yours and interlace your fingers, giving a small kiss to the back of his hand.

He looks at you expectantly, "Baby?", his voice couldn't have been softer.

Sigh... "Yes, Mingyu. We're still getting food." You say in an exasperated tone. You laugh when you see him break out in a small happy dance, dumbly acknowledging your words through movement. "Are you actually gonna let me pay this time?" You posture the infamous question of the night.

He pretends to be deep in though, stroking an imaginary beard like a scholar. "Not this time..." He moves his mouth side to side like he's thinking of what to say next, "But I will let you hand them my card."

"You never let me pay for anything, Gyu. The least I could do is buy you some food... You did offer to be designated driver tonight-"

"Hey! I jumped at the opportunity! My life, you never drink. You can't begin to understand how excited I was to see you let loose... Even if it was only a few drinks." He snickers as he whispers the last bit and you gently smack his face in retaliation for his slight towards you.

"Yeah yeah whatever, just wake me up once we're at the drive-through." You begin to recline your seat before jumping back up, "And don't you dare think of ordering for me or handing the person your card just because you think I look cute when I sleep." You let out a small huff as you mock words that he's said a thousand times over, "I've heard enough of your excuses throughout the years..."

You go back to reclining your seat and pass out within minutes.

While stuck at a red light Mingyu looks over to your figure. He pulls your dress down since it's ridden up quite a bit. Grabbing his jacket from the back seat he places it over your legs. His eyes go hazy with love as he gazes at you. He stretches himself enough to reach your forehead and give you a small kiss. You really were going to be the death of him, he knew it from the start.

A/N: Hahahaha I'm totally not procrastinating writing the Scoups angst fic... hahaha totally not 😓😖😨 (I'm a big fat liar who can't handle putting ideas to paper)

Please Reblog and Comment if you enjoyed ! (They act as power-ups for me)

Taglist (OPEN): @bemybabiibish @bath1lda @porridgesblog

[coyle-and-co]

Do you have any headcanons about Franco?

i wrote a whole thing and tumblr shit the bed and didn’t save them omg

second times the charm! but yes i do have some franco headcanons i never stop thinking about him ever

HATES the taste of anything sour/bitter, can’t stand food that isn’t sweet. Trying to get him to eat anything with vegetables in it is a down hill battle at best, if you blend them up and into food he’ll still find away to pick them out

Medical time! Franco’s probably got bilateral exophthalmos which is why both his eyes wig out of his skull like that, and why he has a misalignment in his left eye, however that’ll probably also be because of the shotgun recoil he took to the face when he was 10

He has Hydrocephalus, which causes his head to be so large! how he’s up right i have no idea, but he’s also got pretty chronic headaches and eye strain because of it

Intelligent, yeah it’s fun to think he’s a bit stupid, but he’s probably amazing with numbers due to being a drug lord

As we know he can speak Italian, but he’s probably also fluent in French (growing up in new orleans), and Spanish due to being “stationed” in Cuba for a while, he probably uses this to piss off Coyle

Speaking of Coyle, Franco obviously dislikes him for being a cop, but he probably sees some of Salvatore in Coyle, since he’s a disciplinary figure who’s a big macho man. Everything Franco isn’t at his core

Even if people think his baby thing is weird, he’s well respected for how lethal his aim with Lupara is, if Franco sees you better say your prayers because you’re gonna meet whoever you believe in soon!

Despite this, i do think he’s probably got mild vision and hearing issues, that’s why he is so quick to shoot, kill first ask questions later

Strong as hell, this guy can one tap barricades down and swing grown men over his arm like they’re a stuff animal, even without Lupara he’s probably good with hand to hand combat and could rip a dudes jaw off if he really wanted to

His Hydrocephalus also causes pretty bad mood swings, which is why his attitude is so flippant (thank you @wendigoruble for this factoid!)

Sometimes you can genuinely have a completely normal conversation with him, like no mobster related shit and no baby talk, and oddly it’s eerie as hell because he’s not supposed to do that 😭

Short, i don’t care if the wiki says he’s 5’9-5’10, he’s at MAX maybe 5’5, personally my version is 5ft on a good day

Rejection sensitive as hell, if you tell him no he’ll loose his mind completely and throw the biggest tantrum, even over small things

Can’t handle certain textures because of his teeth rotting, and can’t have metal cutlery because it hurts, mainly eats with plastic utensils except for a metal knife for cutting things

Collection of the same suit all in different colors, with matching bow ties and pacifiers

He would wear jewelry in my mind, gold rings and chains, but never anything too flashy because he thinks it’s gaudy. He might be dramatic but he’s got some class

Closeted bisexual disaster, i speak no further on this

That’s pretty much all i have!!! there are nsfw ones but since this was asked on main they’d have to wait, HAHA

but hope these suffice! <3

[joeys-babe]

Joey B Imagines: I’m On Fire*

————————————————————————-

Summary: When Joe mistakenly leaves his JB9 iced-out chain while at an away game, you bless him with a little photoshoot while you're hours away in Cincinnati.

Warnings: Smut

Paring: Joe Burrow x reader

Imagine universe: Just the Two of Us

————————————————————————-

*No specific date for this fic!*

(y/n’s pov)

Joe had just left the house for an away game, and due to some work-related stuff, I wasn't able to go with him.

The pouty expression he gave me when we were standing at the front door just a little bit ago made me want to climb into his bag. His lower lip sticking out was oddly convincing, along with his blue eyes.

“Joe, you know I can't go, baby.” - you

“Please… I want you to go with me.” - Joe whined

“I wish I could go too, but I can't, J.” - you

Joe whined once again, but this time, it made me roll my eyes. My annoyance didn't last long, though, as he hunched over and laid his head on my shoulder.

“I love you.” - Joe mumbled

His face being pressed into my neck made his words muffled, but it was oddly adorable.

“I love you too, but if you don't leave now, you're going to be late.” - you

I laughed when he stood up straight and groaned.

“I'm gonna be so lonely by myself in my hotel room tonight.” - Joe

“We can Facetime, goofball.” - you

“Not the same.” - Joe whined

“Okay, enough whining. Goodbye, Joe.” - you

Joe stared at me for a few seconds, trying to come up with a response that didn't show how annoyed he really was.

“Bye…” - Joe mumbled

I stood up on my tiptoes and pressed a kiss to Joe’s lips. When I pulled away, I giggled at the look of his flushed cheeks.

“Love you, sheisty.” - you

“Love you too.” - Joe grinned

——

Hours later, I was bored out of my mind, all alone in this big house.

I had cleaned almost the entire house, scrolled through Pinterest, made a dinner recipe I had pinned, and finished a show I had been binging - Fool Me Once.

There was pretty much nothing to do.

All I was doing right now was lying in bed, watching the ceiling fan turn, and feeling kinda sad when I got a whiff of Joe’s scent off of his pillow.

I missed him, and I saw him just hours ago.

That's what happens when your boyfriend turns into your best friend, I guess.

Joe’s game wasn't till tomorrow, but they'd probably just landed at their destination.

Maybe I should text him?

After thinking about it for a few minutes, I made up my mind and texted Joe.

hiiii

Ew, no. Sounds desperate.

What am I even talking about? I've been with this man for six years.

I had almost deleted my message, but Joe answered before I could.

HIIII! 😁

He's such a dork, I thought to myself with a giggle.

Wyd?

Nothinggg, hbu??

Do I tell the truth or make a lie to seem productive? In the end, I told the truth.

Missing you.

My heart warmed at Joe’s message back.

I miss you too. ☹️

Are you at your hotel yet?

It took Joe a few minutes to answer, but his reasoning was ironic.

Just got back from checking in actually. Imma head up to my room, take a shower, and then ft you.

Okay, I'll talk to you then! 🫶

Talk to ya then, I LOVE YOU! 🥰

I hearted his message and than sent the sentiment back.

Love you more, baby. 😘

The conversation ended after Joe’s simple but butterfly-inducing text.

Not fuckin’ possible.

——

We were on Facetime for way longer than we should have, but neither of us cared.

The call ended with the usual “I love you more” back-and-forth playful argument.

Joe won in the end, and I can't say I’m surprised because he always did.

After the call ended, I was just lying in bed, my head on Joe’s pillow, just to smell his scent.

I got bored eventually and decided to play around in the closet. Joe always forbade me from trying on his chains, but he wasn't here.

My eyes immediately widened with excitement as I opened the top drawer on Joe’s side of our walk-in closet.

Everything was cleared out except one chain, he probably took them all with him to have options for his fit tomorrow.

“Damn, this is heavy.” - you mumbled

It was the JB9 Nike check chain Joe wore for the AFC Championship in 2022.

One of my personal favorites out of his collection but too iconic to be worn again.

God, he looked so hot that day.

I stared at myself in the mirror, the chain of my boyfriend’s initials and number adorning my neck.

That's when I got the idea.

——

Settling into my bed for the night, I grabbed my phone and giggled to myself as I looked through the pictures recently taken in my camera roll.

Nothing but black lace and that iced-out chain.

——

Next Day

Joe won his game, and sure, I was happy to see him win, but being miles away from him and unable to celebrate with him put a damper on my mood.

I watched the game by myself in the living room, and then proudly watched his post-game conference.

Just a minute after Joe left the media room, I received a text from him.

Did you watch the game?

Of course. Watched your conference too, baby.

Joe didn’t answer for a few minutes, and I thought he might've gone to take his postgame shower, but his text back made me laugh.

I just got made fun of because I was blushing from your text. “You texting yo girl?”

What did you say back? 😂

I proudly said yes. 😁

A few seconds passed before another text vibrated my phone.

Hey, I gotta go shower, though. We're set to get home late tonight, so don't wait up on me.

What if I want to?

You'll wake up with me next to you in the morning either way, so no need to wait for me to get back.

He was right, so I left him alone to go shower.

——

It was around ten o'clock, and Joe had texted me just a little bit ago, saying they were on the bus to the airport.

Out of nowhere, with no context or caption with it, I sent Joe my little experiment earlier.

Attachment: 10 images

When I was left alone with Joe’s chain earlier, I took a little photo shoot with some black lace lingerie and Joe’s chain.

He'd usually take a power nap on his way to the plane, so I was surprised when his response was quick.

Joe sent a picture of himself with his eyes wide and mouth dropped open in shock.

The silly reaction picture made me giggle, but I had no idea that Joe had just pulled his bag onto his lap while on the bus in an attempt to hide the stirring between his legs.

Fucking shit, y/n. I'm getting so hard right now that I might have to rub one out on the plane.

No. 😘

Wdym, no?

How do I word this?

You always get pissed when I get off without you, how about a taste of your own medicine?

I don't get pissed…

Joe, honey.

Please, baby.

No.

Joe sighed and put his phone on his chest, discreetly slipping his hand down his sweatpants to rearrange the erection in his boxers. He's so hard just from the sight of nothing but lingerie and his initials in the form of diamonds on your body.

He so wished he was with you, inside you.

——

When Joe got home, it was really late.

You were already sleeping, so when Joe slipped into the bedroom he made sure to be quiet.

Joe stood there for a few seconds, just admiring how peaceful you looked while sleeping.

A small smile found its way onto his face when he noticed you were wearing his t-shirt and snuggled onto his pillow instead of yours.

After staring for a lot longer than he anticipated, Joe put his bag down and took his sweatshirt off before crawling into bed beside you.

You stirred for a bit, feeling the presence of someone else near you. After moving around for a bit, you were met with a hard chest, but you knew it all too well.

Joe grinned to himself when you snuggled into him, your face against his pec. He ran his fingers through your hair, and soon, you were peacefully sleeping again.

Feeling tired but unable to sleep, Joe discreetly grabbed his phone to see the messages he wasn't able to answer on the plane and his drive home.

You sent him a video?

Joe made sure his volume was down before pressing play on the video. His eyes went wide when he was met with the sight of you fingering yourself.

All at once, Joe’s heart rate picked up, he started sweating, and his cock stirred in his sweatpants.

He didn't need volume to know you were moaning his name with each thrust of your fingers. Joe was able to read your lips.

The sight of your head thrown back, bare chest, and your sweet heat swallowing your fingers had Joe fully erect in a matter of a minute.

He needed you badly.

Joe can admit he was thinking with his dick and not his brain when he shook you awake. In his defense, most of his blood supply was in the wrong head.

“Joey?” - you mumbled

“Shit- sorry I woke you up…” - Joe

“I missed you…” - you

His heart fluttered, and he hoped you wouldn't shift around and feel him. Please just go back to sleep.

In all honesty, Joe felt guilty waking you up with his sexual needs in mind. He felt horrible and selfish.

“Missed you too, baby.” - Joe

You moved around and Joe’s eyes went wide. Please don't feel it. Please don't feel it.

Abruptly, you paused your shifting and looked up at Joe’s face. Maybe she just found a comfortable spot?

It was hard to make out Joe’s features in the dark, but you could see his piercing blue eyes easily.

Unbeknownst to Joe, you'd felt his hard-on as soon as he got it, but you wanted to mess with him, make him beg for it.

Slowly, you reached your hand out and palmed his bulge. Joe bit his lower lip to stop an audible reaction as you started rubbing him.

“He missed me too, huh?” - you giggle

“Fuck- so much.” - Joe

“Take your pants off, Joe.” - You

Joe shed his pants and boxers off faster than the speed of light, all because his girl asked.

Now that he was completely free from restraint, Joe got even harder, and he didn't think that was possible.

You spit into your hand and firmly grasped his cock, a plan forming in your mind as you started to jerk him off.

Joe was a groaning mess, relishing in the feel of your hand around his length because he'd needed this for days.

Precum was beading at Joe’s tip, so you maneuvered yourself around to take him into your mouth.

“Sh-it.” - Joe moaned

He was close, so close.

“Baby- I'm gonna… cum!” - Joe

You pulled off of him, trying to follow your plan of edging him until he couldn't help but beg for you to finish him off, but Joe was too close to stop his inevitable orgasm.

With a loud moan, Joe shot his load onto your face, some making it into your mouth.

Both of you were surprised when it happened, looking at each other with wide eyes.

“I- I'm sorry…” - Joe

“No, don't be.” - you

You reached out and put a hand on his chest, rubbing comforting circles on it.

He grabbed a tissue off of his nightstand and wiped his cum off of your face.

“That was kinda embarrassing…” - Joe

“Why?” - you

Your voice was soft, a little sad yourself that Joe felt embarrassed.

“I don't know, I couldn't stop it from happening, but it happened so fast. Like under three minutes? That's embarrassing.” - Joe

“Joe, don't be embarrassed. How long you last doesn't matter to me at all, I just wanna make you feel good.” - you

He nodded but bit the insides of his cheeks.

“I think it's kinda hot that I can get you off that fast. Makes me feel good about myself.” - you

“Really? You don't think it's funny or embarrassing?” - Joe

“No, baby.” - you

You leaned up and pressed a big kiss to Joe’s lips, one of his legs slotting between yours, causing you to grind down onto his thigh.

“Mmm, Joey baby.” - you moaned

“That's it.” - Joe

——

Next Morning

You woke up with a grin on your face as you replayed last night's events in your mind.

Joe had gotten you off twice with his fingers and tongue before he filled you up with his thick cock.

In the back of his mind, he was still feeling a little self-conscious about his first orgasm of the night, but he wouldn't let it show.

When you two were in the shower cleaning up, you could tell something was on Joe’s mind and that something was what had happened earlier.

Without saying anything, you dropped to your knees when his back was to you. He turned around and looked down at you, his dick stirring to life at the all-too-familiar position.

Despite the fact you two had just gone four rounds, Joe’s craving for you was never-ending.

You'd slowly reached out to stroke him, and you finished him off with your mouth.

He manhandled you back to your feet before pressing you against the shower wall.

“If you want me to stop, I will, but you started this.” - Joe

The feel of his thick length against your behind, and his hands holding you in place was getting you worked up all over again.

“Fuck me, Joey.” - you

You two ended the night giggling in bed as you counted up the number of orgasms shared between you two that night.

“Four for me, four for you, gah-lee!” - Joe

“I’m not gonna be able to walk tomorrow morning.” - you

“Fuck I might even have a limp.” - Joe

You were pulled out of your fantasies when Joe walked into the bedroom. Toes curled at the sweet sight of him.

Joe wore nothing but a bashful smile, a pair of sweatpants, and raging bedhead.

“Hi.” - you smiled

“Hi. How'd you sleep?” - Joe

“Good. Get in bed with me?” - you

He did as you asked and curled up in bed beside you, pulling you into his chest in the process.

“Where were you?” - you

“Uh… nowhere…” - Joe

You sat up and looked at him, giving him a skeptical look as you narrowed your eyes at him.

Joe sighed and broke your eye contact.

“I was doing something downstairs. It was supposed to be a surprise after you got ready, but you can come downstairs now.” - Joe

You excitedly jumped out of Joe’s arms and ran out of the bedroom, your hand grabbing his as he followed you.

When you two got downstairs, you saw the dining table set up like a date. Breakfast on both of the plates and a bouquet of roses between them.

Joe walked away from you for a second and grabbed a rose.

He walked back up to you and held the flower in front of his bare chest.

“Go on a date with me?” - Joe

You grinned at your boyfriend so big that your cheeks hurt.

“Of course.” - you

Joe handed the single rose to you, and you stood up on your tiptoes to place a kiss on his smooth cheek.

“Thank god, woulda been really awkward if you said no.” - Joe

“I'd never say no to you.” - you laughed

The blush on his cheeks went deep, almost to the shade of the rose he gave you.

You spent the rest of the morning laughing with the handsome man you loved so deeply, wondering about how you got so lucky, and thinking about your future with him.

You were so grateful to have a man you could laugh with, share secrets with, tell all the drama to, and have intense intimate moments with. Sometimes, all within the same day or hour.

It was scary to realize how much of yourself you put in Joe’s hands, but you trusted him more than anything.

The sweet thoughts and realizations were swirling in your mind and making you smile. You'd been staring out of the window, but your thoughts were abruptly interrupted…

*BURP*

Your wide eyes snapped over to Joe, who was holding a hand over his mouth and shared the same wide-eyed look.

“Sorry, didn't expect it to be that loud.” - Joe laughed

“Gosh, I love you.” - you laughed along with him

————————————————————————-

Authors note: GOT IT OUT BEFORE MONDAY! 😆

Request for this fic;

Hope you enjoyed! ❤️❤️

[three-realms-archive]

(This me rambling, feel free to ignore and lesson 16 spoilers! ^^; hi hello btw!)

I wanna see MC sometimes staying at Purgatory Hall and the Demon Lord's Castle more often as an escape to truly relax and maybe see the brothers try to overcome some of their struggles in their own, even if it's just a bit, if not for them, then for MC who has done so much, maybe even too much, for them, y'know?

Lesson 16 was quite the turning point, but not a lot of things changed. I wanna see before and afters with everyone. I wanna see angst where everyone is trying to be normal (maybe because MC is trying to be normal), but when the slightest thing goes wrong, they all flinch to shield MC or something. The smallest smell of vlood after chopping up food for dinner? Flashback to lesson 16. MC being too cold? Mammon flashes back. Belphie standing over MC (holding blankets or just so happen to be there for some reason)? Levi is holding his breath.

But at the same time, i want to see MC flinch from Lucifer. Before Belphie, Lucifer was going to hurt MC or worse, and he did it the most and has succeeded in hurting MC the most out of the brothers. I want to see MC hold their breath anytime he gets angry but is completely calm with Satan. I wanna see MC's shoulders tense while helping with paperwork alone with him but be completely fine with doing the same with Diavolo. I wanna see Mammon acting as like a bridge between the two.

Everyone is so creative on how they write lesson 16 but i don't see a lot of "after the lesson" ones. I always wondered, if their MC went through that (assuming if they made ir canon in their MC's story), what changed, if at all?

Phantom Pain

First oneshot of Scars, Wounds and Minor Inconveniences: a oneshot series featuring slice-of-life snapshots of the aftermath of Lesson 16. Naturally, features spoilers for OG Obey Me! up until that point. Each oneshot will have an associated headcannons post, which will be linked when it goes up!

(thank you to @kittylilyheart for inspiring what will now be a oneshot series dedicated to everyday life in the aftermath of lesson 16, because there's just so many characters in this series with so many things you can write for each. they gave so many interesting examples in their submitted idea; so I'll be including some and incorporating my own. If you have an idea for something related to Obey Me! or Obey Me! Nightbringer that you'd like me to put to writing, please read the rules pinned to this blog before submitting to the blog's inbox!)

_

It’s like pins and needles, starting at your neck and running down your back. Mammon sees you arch your back oddly as you go to knock on the door to the Demon Lord’s castle; and immediately knows.

“Hey, hey.” He says as he bumps his shoulder into yours, fingers touching your sleeve. Even though he’s seen this a bunch of times, he never really knows what to do. “Ya, uh. Ya got the needles-thing again?”

“Yeah. Ugh, why now?” You groan through gritted teeth, waiting for the feeling to subside. Both you and Mammon were used to this, episodes happening every now and then. Temporary bouts of phantom pain down your back and sides, where arms had hugged you and…

Dwelling wouldn’t help. And besides; they barely inconvenienced you. You sat down and pressed your back against a nearby wall.

“Don’t do that. What are ya doin’?”

“It feels better when I put my back against something hard and flat.” You state matter-of-factly, never breaking eye contact as you slowly slide down. He looks more confused. You grin. "As long as Beel hasn't got his fifth dinner on it, the kitchen table is nice, too."

“Weird humans…” Mammon mutters disapprovingly, but he sits beside you to wait it out. His head flops to one side, cheek resting on your head, as he makes the ever-so-cliché show of pretending to stretch his arm above his head, over yours… and, eventually, around your shoulders. You snort as his fingers fidget, figuring he just doesn’t know where to place them. They first settle on your chest, lingering over where your heart beats. Then, they scurry up to your collarbone and settle on your pulse point. He presses around a little, as if searching. Then, with a satisfied hum, he leans back against the wall, too.

“I think it’s going away, now. Mams. Hey, Mams.” You shake his arm a few minutes later. He blushes at your willing contact (as if he hadn’t been holding you close this whole time) and the cutesy nickname, but shuffles back to give you space to stand. Though not before checking your back first, touching the back of his hand to the skin between your shoulder blades, which your outfit exposes. Because you’d been leaning on a metal wall, your skin is cold.

He freezes. Your skin, cold. Your lips, not breathing. The slight red from where his hand had pressed against you has a slightly red flush. Red - red, just like it had been when -

He makes a show of dusting off your shoulders, one hand curling its fingers just enough to press a little more around your neck pulse point.

He hums again, satisfied. Then, the sheer amount of touching you that he’s done today hits him - and he turns his head to the side with a not-so-subtle cough.

“Y-Yeah, okay. Good. Let’s knock, then.” Mammon straightens and flashes you one of his signature grins. You notice it wobbles a little, but you attribute that to the adorably-dramatic cough he was forcing out of his throat just moments earlier. “If we get back late, Lucifer’ll think we’re slackin.”

“We can’t stay longer? Lord Diavolo said in his letter that I can work at the castle for as long as I like.” You pout. Secretly, your heartbeat gets a little faster; you swore you read the letter correctly. You look at Mammon hopefully, avoiding looking at the path behind you; which was starting to look awfully short. “I thought we were getting back after Lucifer goes out tonight.”

Mammon raises an eyebrow. “Ya wanna stay that long? It’s dangerous out. It’s safer with Lucifer around. ” He protests worriedly - but catches himself quickly. “W-Well. Not that I can’t protect ya… But everyone’s at home, too! The more people around, the better the protectin'!”

“Mammon -”

“Mammon is probably right, MC." Suddenly, you hear a voice behind you. "Though, I admit - I hadn't thought about that when I wrote the letter requesting your visit.”

The two of you jump. You and Mammon immediately find each others’ hands, and whip around to face the source of the voice. Mammon is already stepping forward, stretching his arm in front of you protectively... when he sees who it is.

“Lord… Geez, Lord Diavolo. Barbatos.” He nervously chuckles, stepping back. “We were literally just about to knock. Warn a guy next time, why don’t’cha?”

“No worries, Mammon. Sorry for startling you.” Diavolo offers apologetically. He nods in acknowledgement to you. “Hello there, MC. Lucifer may worry too much if he doesn’t see you before leaving the House, so it may be best for him to see you’re safe and sound, first.”

You look up slowly at the Crown Prince of the Devildom. The prince’s demon butler stands just behind his liege, almost blending into the shadows. They look so… tall. So towering. You don’t register the words that come out of your mouth.

“Oh, u-uh. Okay, then. I’ll help with some RAD event planning, then leave. early”

Mammon gives you a look, shuffling closer and bumping his shoulder into yours, again. “Oi, human, are you sure? I thought earlier you said -”

“I’ll do what Lord Diavolo, said. It’s probably for a reason.” You reply nonchalantly as Barbatos steps forward and unlocks the front door. You can see the hallway as it creaks open and it’s dark. It reminds you of a room you had woken up in when you were pulled from your home with no warning. It reminds you of winding stairs that had lead up to an attic, with a shadowy figure waiting behind a locked door. It was the home of two people who, try as you might, you could never, ever say no to.

Was it fear? You didn’t think so, you could talk to them pretty easily. Agree with them, easily.

Was it hatred? Not that either. You knew Mammon appreciates them for their part in saving you, so you guess you do, too.

You think of the phantom pain from earlier, then think that the darkness of the castle hallway looks a lot more inviting than dwelling on painful memories and difficult questions. So you let your feet follow Diavolo and Barbatos into the castle, laughing when Diavolo fondly tussles Mammon’s hair and enthusiastically piping up with ideas when Barbatos lists off the upcoming events to be held by the student council at RAD.

Mammon does hang back a little at first, though; wondering why you disapproved of his idea when he said it - but then agreed so readily when Diavolo did. But Diavolo did help you with the whole Belphie situation. And he was grateful Diavolo had you brought to the Devildom at all. So he follows you and thinks nothing of it.

And you follow Barbatos and Diavolo. Listening to their every word, like it was instinct. Like you didn’t really have a choice. Just like you didn't have when they had saved you.

Just like you had no choice when they had first brought you here.

(first chapter of the blog's very first series! this was pretty interesting and challenging to write as i really didn't want anything sad or angsty; just the same tone as my other slice-of-life stuff but with little pangs of hurt from the habits that the characters pick up after the belphie incident. i'd like to think that mc and the obm cast actually do recover pretty quickly from lesson 16, but not for the reason of forgiving each other easily, which i'll get to in later chapters. in this case, mc gets along well with dia and barb out of trust for them saving them, but also because they've always taken the reigns on their fate anyway.)

[fever-project]

I’m not DEAD, Daniel (2904 words) by FeverProject Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, Danny Phantom Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Danny Fenton & Wild (Linked Universe) Characters: Danny Fenton, Wild (Linked Universe), the rest of the LU gang are also there but they aren’t important Additional Tags: This isn’t crack but it sure is silly, very much so for me, Ghost King Danny Fenton, Tired Danny Fenton, Wild (Linked Universe) is a Little Shit, might be ooc hopefully not, Misunderstandings, just a little bit Summary: DPxLU crossover because I couldn’t help myself. Surprised I didn’t do this earlier considering gestures at my everything Wild has an encounter with the Ghost King. It is definitely an experience.

Uhhh fanfic, yeah. I’m going to explode. Art

Enjoy 👍

▼

Wild was bored. Which wasn’t exactly a rare occurrence, but it was one that he hated. It was night time now and he was supposed to be asleep, just like everybody else in the inn. But he wasn’t like everybody else, he already slept for 100 years straight, sleeping was only useful to him if and when he wanted to be more healthy. And sleeping every night was generally considered to be healthy, but Wild didn’t care, he needed to move.

Out the window he went, quiet as a mouse. Hopefully no one would notice he was gone, and that he would be back before morning came. But there was an entire forest nearby to explore, and he felt like he could-no, should explore to his heart’s content. The wilderness called to him, beckoned him in. That’s what he kept repeating to himself in his mind anyway, as a way to reassure himself, that as a hero who had saved Hyrule, sneaking out at night and potentially worrying the other heroes wouldn’t be a stupid thing to do. Zelda would’ve thought otherwise, and he knew that, but tried not to think about it too much.

The forest was mostly quiet, save for things like the chirping of birds and crickets. The faint rustling of trees was like music to his ears. There was a light breeze, which felt nice against his face as he ventured further into the forest. He tried his best to walk in as straight of a line as he could, to more easily find his way back. He really wished his Sheikah Slate worked properly in this time, maps made everything much easier. But then he would have to go searching for those towers, and while as fun as they were to activate, took up far too much time, much more than he and his group were currently willing to spare.

Wild was suddenly on edge. That odd shapeshifting, Lizalfos-looking, portal opening thing was still out there. Not to mention the black-blooded monsters that thing infected. Wild sighed as walked, now paranoid and frustrated. After a few moments of that, he finally gained enough brain cells to figure out that he should probably head back. With another sigh, which was more of a groan, he spun on his heel, turning around to make his way back to the inn.

Soon enough, something in the air…shifted, he couldn’t tell what. An oddly familiar yet unnatural feeling enveloped his senses as the sky started to turn into an odd shade of pinkish purple. The few clouds up in the sky, only a slightly lighter shade than the sky itself, swirled around above him, as the space in front of him split. Wild felt his heart drop and his breath leave his body as the rift continued to grow. Green glowing light bleed out from it, lighting up the trees and grass and him. Something was happening, something bad, and it was targeting him. He stumbled back, he had to, he had to get away and yet. And yet. It was calling to him. It was scaring him, the world behind the rift hated and loved him all the same.

Wild had to escape.

Wild tried to breathe, in and out, slowly, calmly, he looked for a way out. Trees, there were only trees and more trees and bushes and grass and even more trees-slowly, in and out, his breathing, his breath. He was alive, and he was going to make sure he would stay that way, bright green portal notwithstanding. The portal was growing bigger, quickly, but not as quick as Wild’s mind was when it was panicking. Maybe that meant that panicking was a good thing. Wild almost stopped panicking completely once he realized how stupid that thought sounded. His panic swiftly returned when a white boot stepped out of the portal. When matching white gloves also came out, Wild went to get out his sword and shield, fumbling with his slate as the person emerged from the rift, it closing behind them soon after.

“Excuse me?” The person asked, their words 

echoing, despite the conditions for that to logically happen simply not existing here. Wild stiffened, having only gotten his sword out. But he knew deep within his soul that it wouldn’t be very effective against the higher being standing before him. Yet his grip tightened despite that. He wouldn’t run away, not now, he would try his best to fight this being off if he had to. And if that failed, he would retreat, tactically.

The being was dressed in an odd black and white outfit, having tan skin and white hair. Their bright green eyes, glowing body, and their crown that was literally on fire were very clear signs that this person wasn’t anything he’s seen before. Not to mention the hovering. And the portal they just came out of. And the weird voice-and Wild needed to start focusing on the situation at hand.

The being raised their hands up defensively, “Hey, put down the sword, I’m not looking for a fight,” they said, “I’m just. Looking for someone, yeah.”

“Uh huh,” Wild dumbly nodded, keeping his eyes on them.

“Right, okay, let me just-“ they looked around, suspicious at their surroundings, “-okay, don’t tell anyone you saw me, or that you saw this. Actually, it doesn’t matter, forget what I just said.”

Wild nodded again, watching as a ring of light came out of their waist, enveloping them as they donned a more hylian appearance. They had even odder clothes on in this form, baggy and worn. Their skin was paler and their hair was pitch black. They looked like death in the form of a teenage boy.

“Are you Death?” Wild asked blatantly. Listen, he was curious, he need to know this. The being raised an eyebrow at him, confusion evident on his face. “Like,” Wild scrambled to rationalize his less than rational thought process, “I don’t know, you seem scary? And corpse-like? Are you dead? Am I dead-well, no, I can’t be dead, that would be silly, ha. But are you?”

“Well I am the Ghost King, king of ghosts,” they said plainly, with a shrug, “Name’s Danny, Danny Phantom, and that’s really all you know about that. Listen-“

“Aren’t you like, twelve?” Wild knew they probably weren’t twelve, but this ‘Ghost King’ guy looked pretty young.

“What? No! I’m not twelve, I’m like-“ they pouted, like a twelve year old, snapping their fingers in thought, “older than you!”

“Oh yeah, I’m-“ Wild stopped, wondering if it would be smart to tell the Ghost King that he’s technically one hundred and seventeen years old. “I am at least seventeen! And I look like it as well.”

“You’re the same height as me.”

Wild looked at the ghost, glared at them, walking a bit closer to them. He placed his hand on top of his head and moved it forward, towards the Ghost King’s head. His hand brushed against their hair, but it clearly didn’t reach the top of their head. Wild grinned, well, wildly at the sight of being taller than them. They looked unimpressed.

“You’re the one acting like a twelve year old you know,” Danny scoffed, pouting.

“Says the pouter.”

“Look, can you just help me find this guy, since you’ve clearly calmed down now.”

“And why should I?”

“I’ll make your afterlife terrible otherwise.”

“Fine, I’ll help, gosh,” Wild was probably going to help anyways, he liked helping people. He just wanted to be annoying. “So, who and why?”

“Great! So, I’m looking for this guy named Link,” oh no, “Clockwork-he’s a time ghost, don’t worry about him-told me that he was hoping around other times with other guys also named Link.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Well-okay, you’re annoying so I’m just going to ignore that-“

“Time isn’t real.”

The two stared at each other, and Wild both wanted to punch himself in the face, and thought he was the funniest man alive. Danny seemed to think the same way too, with their bewildered expression suddenly turned into one holding back a lot of laughter.

“Al-alright, that was good I’ll give you that,” they chuckled, “Anyways, I’m looking for this specific Link because they’re supposed to dead, and I’m supposed to like-do something about that. I think I have a picture of this guy that Clockwork gave me, hold on.” They stuffed their hand through their goddess forsaken chest, and rummaged around like their own body was a mere storage container. Wild was instantly jealous of them. Sure he had his Sheikah Slate, but it wasn’t a part of his body.

Wait, Danny had a picture of him. Oh no, they were going to kill him. He didn’t need them to say word for word that they were going to kill him, but Wild didn’t know what else they could do to him. He needed to be on his toes and hone his quick reflexes in order to survive this ordeal.

“Annnd-nope, that’s my thermos-here it is!” They pulled out a piece of folded paper, and just as they started to unfold it, Wild snatched it from their hand and shoved it into his mouth.

“Wha-WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!” Danny shrieked, hands on the side of his head, horrified.

“‘Cause,” Wild responded in a muffled voice, chewing the paper. Tasted inky.

“Okay, you are definitely the weirdest person I’ve ever met, an I know a ghost who whole personality is boxes, just boxes. Actually, I don’t think he’s that weird compared to some other fruitloops I know of-but that doesn’t matter, spit that out!”

“No.”

“You are acting like a twelve year old-no, even twelve year olds wouldn’t do this, you’re five.”

Wild gasped, photo smushed to the side of his mouth, in between his cheek and teeth so it wouldn’t fall out.

“You’re just mad I’m right.”

“Nah uh!”

“Then how about you spit that out, like a normal, seventeen-you’re seventeen right?” Wild nodded, “Right, like a normal seventeen year old would, or I’ll phase it out of your mouth by force.” Wild did not like sound of that. So he spit out the photo, the slobbery mess falling onto the grass. Even Wild was grossed out by what he had done. Danny clearly was.

“You’re going to have to unfold that yourself, I’m not touching that,” Danny looked sick.

“Yeah, that’s fair, I’ll do that,” why wasn’t the paper metal, then he could use his Sheikah Slate to pick it up. Good thing he had some spare gloves stored in it, so it was fine, it’s fine. He started to unfold the paper, Danny peering over his shoulder, both with matching disgusted expressions. Wild was right about the contents of the drawing. His face, blast scars and all, was right there. Wild looked at Danny. Danny looked at him. Wild wanted to punch them in face and run off, but they are a ghost. But Wild still slowly raised his free hand into a fist, retaining eye contact.

Danny began to speak, “So-“ Wild swiftly punched them in their face, and skittered backwards, trying to look for a way back to the inn safely. The ghost had stumbled back, clutching their face in pain.

“Huh, so you can punch ghosts,” Wild noted.

“You can definitely punch this ghost,” Danny rubbed their hurt nose, “Didn’t even get me a chance to speak.”

“Please don’t kill me.”

“I’m not going to kill you, that’s not what I’m here for.”

“Oh.”

“Bet you feel stupid now, don’t ya?”

“A little bit, yeah.”

Danny sighs, pinching their nose, not in pain this time, but annoyance. “So,” they started again, “what I’m trying to do is get you on the ‘Supposed to be Dead but Came Back Anyways’ census. Basically, the name’s a work in progress.”

“And…I’m supposed to do something about it?”

“Kinda? Look, just sign here, and I’ll get out of your hair.” They pulled out another piece of paper out of their chest, with already had a few other names on it in neat little boxes. Wild couldn’t read any of those names, but Danny probably could.

Wild’s face scrunched up, trying to think about what he should do next. They hadn’t really explained their reasoning for any of this, so he still didn’t trust them too much. Maybe this was some elaborate ruse to kill him.

“Will me signing this ‘census’ give me any benefits-will it give you any benefits?” Wild pointed accusingly at Danny.

“Well, are you dead?”

Wild groaned, “I’m not DEAD Daniel,” Wild threw his hands into the air in frustration, “Just use your stupid ghost words to explain to me what I need to do and why.”

“Okay,” Danny squeaked out, “But first off, name’s just Danny.”

“Uh huh.”

“And secondly, I’m doing this because there’s a bunch of ghost legal jargon where your name was already listed on both the ‘dead,’ and then also the ‘not dead’ list after you came back to life. You signing this will help fix that.”

“…Aren’t I time traveling right now?”

“Yes, but it’s still good to note down who had came back to life. Please just make my life easier, this is themost stress inducing part of my job I’ve ever done.”

Wild was starting to feel a bit bad now. So now, with a better understanding of the situation, he took the paper from Danny’s hands.

“Here’s a pen to write with,” Danny gave him a pen from their chest.

“Can all ghosts store stuff in their bodies?” Wild asked as he wrote down his name in the next free box, adding on his title of ‘Hero of the Wild’ in the same box, just to specify things.

“No, but I sure can,” they said with a big smile.

“That’s so cool.”

“I know.”

The two laughed a bit as Wild returned the paper and pen to Danny.

“Well, sorry for not explaining my motivations fully, I’m a bit…tired, ha ha,” Danny rubbed the back of their neck, clearly embarrassed.

“Yeah. Sorry for punching you.”

“Now I’m going to go take a nap. Or sleep for once.” A ring of light enveloped Danny yet again, returning him to his more ghostly form. Then he turned around and held out his hand, before cutting the space there, opening the bright green portal.

“See you in the Ghost Zone, Link! Eventually!” They waved as they stepped into the rift.

Wild waved back, “That sounds pretty ominous, but okay!” Danny laughed at that as he went all the way through, the portal closing soon after. Now Wild was left all alone in the woods.

He needed to get back to the inn.

It took him some time, but he eventually found his way back to the inn. In through the window, as quiet as a ghost, he was back in his room. He flopped down onto his bed, mentally exhausted. He would’ve rather been bored than have had dealt with…whatever that was. Not really, but Wild was certainly ready to go to sleep now, and pray that he wouldn’t have to meet that Ghost King ever again. Not because he was scared, but because he was a bit embarrassed about what happened. He acted a bit stupid there. But none of that mattered now. All that Wild had to do now, was to sleep.

ー

“Has anyone seen the champion yet?” Time asked, looking over the group that were all hanging around the inn’s dining room.

“Nope,” Warriors said with a pop, “He’s likely still asleep.”

“But I’m hungry,” Wind whined, “Captain, do you know how to cook?”

“I know how to make things edible and nutritious,” Wars plainly answered, receiving a few groans from various Links.

“We could just have the food they serve here,” Twilight suggested.

“Champ’s better,” Four retorted.

“How about we all wait a bit longer,” Time said, “It hasn’t even been half an hour since we woke up after all.”

They all muttered their agreements, and choose to occupy themselves with taking count of their resources for the time being. A few more minutes passed before Legend noticed something.

“Hey guys, I think I see the champ coming down right now,” Legend pointed at the staircase, and the other heroes scrambled to see their resident chef stumbling down the stairs.

“Are you doing alright?” Hyrule asked.

“You seem exhausted,” Sky added.

“Ye-yeah,” Wild yawned, stretching his arms, “Ghost problems and all that stuff.” He set out to make some food for his companions, who were looking at him with confusion and concern.

“Ghost problems?” A few of them asked at once.

“Is this place haunted?” Wind looked around with an excited grin on his face.

“Nope, but I sure got haunted in the woods out there,” Wild waved in the vague direction of where the forest was, “Now I’m going to make something to eat, want some?”

Of course they wanted some, food was important. They continued to ask questions about the ghost, but Wild didn’t answer, he didn’t feel like it. Maybe in like, two days he would. But for now, he just wanted to eat some Vegetable Risotto, maybe with a few Endura Carrots thrown in as well. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to deal with that Ghost King again anytime soon. At least, hopefully not before this time traveling adventure ends.