#twilight as in the singular man

[thatstupidlozfanacrossthestreet2]

lu twilight is so pretty /p

[evilgwrl]

Neighbour!Simon Riley x Reader

Girl Next Door (One)

CW: Mutual masturbation ;)

Inspired by Neighbour!Simon

Chapter Two

Your legs perched up across the woven strings of the porch chair, knees littered with blue and black kisses, knotted joints tucked into your chest as you watched the peak of gold settle into a deep blue. Bony fingers laced the pages between parched hands, eyes darting maliciously between words as you hummed to yourself softly.

You were used to being out here alone, an orchestra of bats occasionally sounding out to you as they scurried away into pine trees, nipping between each other.  Your flat, a smaller duplex, was tucked away into a quiet cul-de-sac, away from the hustle and bustle of London life. It was an organised routine, your body succumbing to the night air as you bathed in the comforting atmosphere of the twilight. There was an occasional hum from up the road, the chug of a car passing through, but your interest peaked when the gravel road lit up, headlights streaming towards you as you shielded your eyes.

The sound of the engine frightened you a bit before you adjusted your vision. A large shadow stepped into view, the staggering height of a man peaking your attention before you took in the balaclava flushed against his face, russet eyes covered by a delicate frame of blonde lashes, stained with black face paint staring at you before dropping his head in a curt nod.

You recognised him as your neighbour. Quiet bloke, away often on deployment you presumed, but nether-the-less was a comfort for you. Even at home, it was like he was never there, the occasional echo of hollow boots sounding against the floorboards before they disappeared. He was ghostly, slightly peculiar but you noted him down mainly as mysterious.

You had spoken a few times, sounding good morning as he was outside having a smoke when you were leaving for work. His response was gruff and shallow, a deep voice barking out a short reply before smashing the dart under the rubble of his shoe, calloused hands gripping the door handle.

He walked past you, duffle bag dropped against the porch as he huffed with his keys, bruised knuckles peaking your attention as you glanced at him, framed eyes peering in curiosity.

“Y’ alright?” His tone was curt, a hint of annoyance ringing through as his eyes stained trained on the metal knob, working the key through the hole.

You squeaked out a noise, taken back by him as you adjusted in the chair, feet flat against the floor now. “Yeah, sorry, I’m just not used to you being here, it’s uh, nice for you to be back, less lonely,” you rambled, shuffling your hands awkwardly before you shut yourself up.

He let out a grunt, the noise almost animalistic sounding as he shut the door, his vague appearance shuffling into the quiet of his own home as you sat outside, whispering an expletive under your breath as you prodded at the ecchymosis on your nobbled knees.

Rough hands rubbed at the face paint, gentle soap working into the scorn skin, thickened skin almost melting under the velocity of the scolding water. Simon’s throat was scratchy, the irritating feeling of sandpaper lining his oesophagus as he choked out a cough. Broken blood vessels littered across the scarring of his back and ribs, a splurge of hematoma drawn across the broken skin.

Ivory skin was now painted with falling droplets of water, a scratchy moose-coloured towel adorned his hips as he shook his hair, moist residue landing on the mirror as he rubbed his hands across his face, a soft moan leaving his lips as he prodded the tender knot in his back.  

His home felt foreign, no matter how long he had lived there for.

His bedroom had dusk lighting, a double bed pushed against the flaky walls, the metal rods holding the frame scraping at the paint. A singular pillow to each side perked up against his touch as he layered them, unused linen welcoming him with a slight dusty smell, aching body collapsing into the plushness of the duvet.

He was aware that your bedroom was adjacent to his, your beds pushed directly together on opposite ends. He could hear the subtle creaks of your feet against the floor as you shuffled around, a chair squeaking across the floor as it collided with something before the noise of you walking sounded again. Simon could hear the springs in your bed, an acknowledgement that you were now lying down.

There was a low hum of a fan whirring, the white noise drifting into his room as he stared up at his own, the stagnant noise felt unorthodox, the familiarity of the barracks being the usual for the Lieutenant. Simon’s hands felt weighed down as he moved them from his chest to rest at his side, his breathing shallow as his ears perked at every movement you made.

You were restless, sweaty body tangled between cotton as you adjusted yourself, flinging your blankets off you as you let out gentle pants. You cursed at the lack of air conditioning available in British homes, peeling off your silken pyjama shorts as you flung them somewhere across your bedroom. Your body was hot and achy, the heat settling in even during the night as you turned to the side, beady eyes watching as the wind flickered the branches occasionally. You were tempted to sleep outside at this point, your room feeling like a sauna as you let out a frustrated quip.

There was a subtle ache between your thighs, a dull throbbing ringing through your brain as you attempted to position yourself better, clicking your calves as you rustled around. Tired arms stretched your top over your head as it too met the wraith of your floor, bare breasts perked against your sheets as you closed your eyes, cuddling up against a pillow.

Slumber never succumbed to your heated frame, the drill of your fan almost teasing you as it provided minimum cooling. You spread your legs, sweat prickling over your stretch marks as you moaned in annoyance. Your fingers trailed your slit through the thin fabric, turquoise-coloured panties fading into an aqua as you let out a shaky breath. You felt dirty, the dull throb of your cunt mocking you as needy fingers hooked into the lace, dragging them down the plushness of your thighs before settling at the end of your bed.

You fumbled around in your draw, clumsy fingers feeling around for your bullet vibrator before they rubbed against the silicone. You were sure to be quiet, your hands covering the majority of the vibrations as you nestled it between your folds, collecting the sweetness of your slick before resting it on your achy clit, an instant moan rising at your throat as you tweaked at your nipples.

The hum against your sex wasn’t enough as you sat up, resting the vibrator on your swollen nub as you straddled a pillow, sloppy pussy grinding against it rapidly as you rutted like a dog in heat, chasing your high.

You were a sight for sore eyes, breasts bouncing at your movements as you humped against the cushion, the cheap sex toy sounding against the bundle of nerves as you let out soft whimpers, mouth opened in an ‘o’ shape as you tugged at your hardened nubs that were practically aching against your chest.

It was like you were going through puberty again, squishy sounds squelching from your cunt at the licentious actions, hips getting sloppy as you felt your coil forming, antagonising moans dripping from your lips as you stilled, the silicone pressed sweetly into your clit as you whined into your hand, orgasm ripping through you as you jutted away from the stimulation, collapsing into a heap.

Simon frowned at how quickly your noises were over as a spit-covered cock throbbed in agony, veiny hands jutting around the angry member as he milked himself to the memory of your orgasm, hot splashes of cum spurting against his belly, a thick trail of hair leading down to his softening cock as he cleaned himself up before nestling into the comfort of his sheets and the barely audible hum of your breathing.

[theshinazugawaslut]

Yall, look at this Sanemi fanart I found — the way I would let this man fuck me raw into oblivion with no protection, no lubricant, no preparation, no warning, no shame, all the way on my mums bed to my dads bed, against the bathroom door to bent over my bath tub, on the toilet and against the cover, from the kitchen sink to the balcony, from my bed to his bed, against the fan and against the wardrobe, draped over the washing machine to hunched behind the fridge, between day and dawn to twilight and midnight, on a chair, on a train, on a bus, during class, on a video call, upside on a tree, in a sewer, on the battlefield, behind a bush, on his mother's gravestone, in a puddle of piss as I scream, cry, whimper, beg, moan his name, huffing and puffing entirely out of breath, I need him biblically as he gives me the most bone breaking, singularity causing, toe clenching, pussy wettening, ass slapping, cheek jiggling, back arching, toes curling, feet snapping, finger popping, hair pulling, writhing, orgasmic, fist clenching, tongue drooling, muscle exploding, eye watering, leg divorcing, knee breaking, shin sucking, nipple bursting, hip thrusting, anus clenching, clit vibrating, knuckle cracking, jaw dislocating, nose bleeding, skin peeling, bone acidifying, hip thrusting, sheet gripping, spinal cord shattering, eyelashes flying off my face, spectacle destroying, over stimulating, cervical mucus ovulating, hormones off the chart, pregnancy inducing, swollen bump causing, ribs expanding to keep inside all his salty cum, nail biting, gravity defying, volcano erupting, uterus popping, ovary exploding orgasm of my life.

[damfangirl08]

Please tell me about a random Linked Universe headcanon you have (Its ok if you dont want to, no pressure)

ooooo i have a fun one! Its kinda multiple ones shoved into one but oh well

The chain's weird relationship with food

Im mostly doing the timeline order because im lazy and unoriginal:

Sky: He can kind of cook but he only ever makes one kind of soup or one singular type of meat in a specific way. I dont think the achademy would let them go off not knowing how to cook. He makes for a good back-up cook and the rest of the chain can be sure he will not put anything weird in it(unless Wild is "helping"). He isnt really that picky, but he doesnt like all foods either. He eats what he is given and likes most of it but i feel like his spice tolerance is shit. They did not have many spicy things on Skyloft. Will not eat Hyrules cooking.

Four: He can cook decently, but he cooks better if he splits, because if not he has to deal with the colors agruing because they dont agree on what type of food is best. There is a 50/50 chance wheter it ends up good or as a weird abomination with too many different types of flavour. Will eat most things but will not eat Hyrules cooking.

Time: He does not care. He can hypothetically cook but half the ingredients end up on the ground or eaten before he can even start. Is not picky at all, this man drinks poes, he will eat Hyrules cooking. And he will not complain at all. He also loves sweet food.

Wind: can make easy fish dishes but he has to have instructions. He is very good at cooking if he can follow step by step directions but he will probably get bored after a couple minutes and start messing with the recipie. He is not that picky and he probably would eat Hyrules cooking, and if there is something in his food he doesn't like he will not tell you because his grandma raised him to be polite.

Twilight: he can cook about as well as Sky, maybe a bit worse. The food he makes is either too bland or too spicy. He will eat a lot of things, including bee larvae, and Hyrules cooking. He probably wont complain either.

Legend: He is actually a really good cook, but he cannot cook over a campfire. Give him a kitchen and he can make amazing food but oveer a campfire? He could probably make something but chances are it would either be burnt or taste like how a campfire smells. He loves baking like his uncle taught him and hes very good at it. I dont get why so many people give him zero spice tolerance but i think Wild would stuff goron spice into something and Legend would just go "This kinda tastes like a subrosian dish" and keep eating. Chances are he would eat a rock roast too. He will eat Hyrules cooking and compare it to food from countries he traveled to. Him and Wild sometimes bond over recipies.

Hyrule: Cannot cook at all ever. Do not let him cook. Ever. He will eat anything. The only reason he hasn't died from food poisoning yet is because he can heal himself. Has probably made a living chuchu out of dinner once.

Warriors: Can make shitty army food that doesnt taste good but is 100% eadible. He could probably make something in a kitchen but he "doesnt have the time" even if he isnt doing anything important. Will not eat Hyrules cooking nor half the things Wild suggests making. Always keeps jerky on him, especially after seeing Hyrule cook.

Wild: amazing cook, however he can and will decide to spontaniously pour goron spice into the food hes cooking. He loves cooking and he is the designated cook for a reason. But the others are often scared he will put something weird into the food because he eats like Hyrule. He will eat Hyrules cooking and he will like it.

Bonus:

Ravio can bake a little bit but he is a lot better at mixing up fun smoothies, milkshakes, or similar things.

None of the Zeldas can cook for very different reasons. Sun can almost cook even if it tastes boring, but the rest? They either suck because the cannot cook at all even if they try(Dot, Dawn), they are used to others cooking for them(Dusk, Athena, Flora) and some dont bother trying to make "good" food because they would rather make "fun" food(Fable, Tetra). Aurora is an outlier who can cook easy meals but usually doesnt cook.

Shadow cant cook.

Malon can cook better than anyone else.

Groose is a great cook.

Linkle is almost as bad as Hyrule.

Myth can bake but cant cook, and Ballad cant do either.

[qilingxiong]

九龍城寨之圍城 | Twilight of the Warriors: Walled In (2024)

I've rewatched this movie more than once, since seeing it in theatres back in August, and each time was just as good as the first if not better. Given that, I now have many thoughts so I'm subjecting y'all to listening to why you should watch it:

Twilight of the Warriors: Walled In (九龍城寨之圍城 or gau2 lung4 sing4 zaai6 zi1 wai4 sing4) is a martial arts action/crime film directed by Soi Cheang. It is an adaptation of the manhua City of Darkness by Andy Seto, and its source novel of the same name by Yuyi. The film's cast has established Hong Kong names folded in with newer-generation actors, starring Raymond Lam, Louis Koo, Sammo Hung, Richie Jen, Terrance Lau, Philip Ng, German Cheung, and Tony Wu (Aaron Kwok gets a cameo role, too).

At a broad glance, the movie follows several major triads in 1980s Hong Kong and their power struggle to control the Kowloon Walled City (a densely populated urban enclave, which for decades evaded direct governance by either the British colonial or Chinese powers in the area). We're introduced to the KWC and the triads' major players through the eyes of Chan Lok-Kwan (Raymond Lam), a man fleeing Vietnam and attempting to make a life for himself in HK. He winds up seeking refuge in the KWC, and comes to call both the city and the people he meets in it a home worth defending.

The narrative itself is not the most complex, but if you enjoy '80s Hong Kong films in these genres, it's solid fare and a harkening back to that decade. All the major themes like brotherhood (and brotherhood vs blood), vengeance, and struggle with conflicting loyalties are there, alongside an internal search for identity and belonging within Hong Kong. But the highlight in it is that the plot connects feast after feast of utterly stunning fight choreography, made all the more impressive by the fact that, according to Louis Koo, quite a few major cast members had never filmed this kind of action before. All their training was done just for TotW, and oh, does it pay off. I can't make good gifs, so you'll have to watch and see for yourself. It's not action for action's sake, either; listening to the head stunt choreographer discuss how different characters' fighting styles were crafted shows off how fight scenes aren't breaks in the story, they tell the story, and deepen our understanding of the characters.

The setting of the Kowloon Walled City truly makes the action in TotW stand out. It's a unique space to stage all these major fights, as the KWC's buildings at the time were packed together close enough to resemble a singular block from the outside. Once inside, it's a stacked, dark maze of uneven paths, stairs, and rickety roofs, with electrical and television cabling snaking over/around/through everything. Fight scenes in these streets feel thrillingly claustrophobic, with lots of acrobatics and near-dodges as characters navigate these tight alleys of the KWC. Each impact as a character goes flying into a wall, or is launched down a flight of stairs or onto a roof, is wonderfully visceral to watch.

All credit and hopefully awards are due to the production and set design teams for their work, in crafting this environment for the story and its fights. The visual/spatial representation of the KWC is the film's other glorious highlight, alongside the choreography. Whole streets of the KWC were recreated for this, filled with every mundane, period-accurate detail from the lives of ordinary people who would have lived there. It's impossible to catch all the intricacies put into making the KWC come to life again onscreen, just from watching the film. Shots like the credits sequence offer close-ups of harder-to-see details, and videos like a tour of the KWC set by Terrance Lau, acting as his character Shin, show off things from the drinks in the fridge at the corner store to the scribbled writing on the walls by the public taps. This film was designed with a drive to faithfully represent what the Kowloon Walled City had been like, how it looked when it was lived in, and they achieved it to an incredible degree.

That dedication extends to more than just the sets, though. The emotional core of TotW revolves around the KWC's inhabitants, and how they were the ones who made the city what it was, a home for about 35,000 people at a time. The film doesn't treat the KWC as just an eye-catching location to stage some fights; its characters might be fictional and overloaded with jianghu powers, but it goes out of its way to show how ordinary people might have lived, worked, and socialized within the historic city. It shows off why, despite its (not unwarranted) dark reputation, so many chose to live in a place that was once the densest urban center on the planet.

And this brings us to the acting, because the cast all do a very good job bringing their characters to life as the heart of the KWC. Louis Koo is fucking fantastic and arguably the scene stealer of the film as Cyclone, the triad leader in current charge of the KWC. He's grumpy, magnetic, and dangerous when he must be, but he also cares so very, very deeply about the inhabitants within his jurisdiction. Terrance Lau's Shin acts as his charismatic and capable right hand man, as well as protégé to Cyclone, befriending Chan Lok-Kwan and helping him become accustomed to life in the KWC. These two, along with the snarky Twelfth Master (Tony Wu) and the masked + imposing AV (German Cheung) become a quartet with great chemistry and friendship, the next generation to watch over and protect the Kowloon Walled City. Outside the KWC cast, antagonist figures like Sammo Hung, Philip Ng, and Richie Jen's characters are intimidating and compelling as threats to the city, and the lives people have etched out within its walls.

All of these things put together, and Twilight of the Warriors is a deeply fun, enjoyable, and rewatchable film (so good, in fact, that Hong Kong has submitted it as its nomination for the 2025 Oscars). The movie doesn't lose its emotional throughline in the promise of an action-packed ride it fully delivers on, and it uses its narrative, setting, and choreography to pay tribute to an earlier era of Hong Kong, as well as highlight + humanize a piece of the region's history that might not be quite as well known to some.

(The Kowloon Walled City was demolished and its inhabitants relocated in 1993. The area where it once stood is now a park, with some historic buildings preserved. If you're curious about people in the KWC before demolition, City Of Darkness: Life In Kowloon Walled City (1993) by Greg Girard and Ian Lambot is a collection of photographs and first-hand recountings from residents, recording their lives and stories. I'm in the midst of reading it right now.)

If anything I've said has piqued your interest whatsoever, I say to give Twilight of the Warriors a try, if you have a free two hours to spare. Something in it will be worth it for you. And if I've failed to convince you with any of this, or you need one more push, here's the trailer for the film:

And if I did manage to actually get anyone to seek out this movie, please tell me! I'd love to know your thoughts.

[chimcess]

Afterglow || jhs

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader Other tags: Vampire!Hoseok, Vampire!Reader Genre: Supernatural!AU, Vampire!AU, Twilight Universe, established relationship, fluff, smut, pwp Word Count: 4.5k+ Synopsis: "A loud crack of lighting boomed in the distance followed by a low rumbling. The storm was here. My love was not. I kept watching and waiting." Warnings: Character death (brief), mental illness (not reader and very brief), penetrative sex, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, lots of licking, kisses, slow and deep, Hoseok is a vocal boy, they are so in love, edging, over stimulation, hair pulling, man handling, growling, body worship, breast worship, unprotected sex (stay safe), vampire/animal sounds, implied outdoor sex, they are honestly so freaking cute, let me know if I missed anything A/N: So, I recently rewatched the entire Twilight Saga and couldn't stop myself. I promise they have nothing to do with the Cullens. I'm simply borrowing S.Meyer's universe for a second. Thanks for reading.

Staring out of the second story window, I frowned. There was a thunderstorm on its way and the wind was harsh. Still, I stayed put. I would not move until I knew he was coming back.

The first few droplets that landed against my cheeks were freezing and as the rain started coming down, I got soaked. There had been a window here once but after a rather unfortunate night, one where mama had shouted and threw a candlestick holder at my head, the glass was all but gone. Only one singular piece along the very bottom of the trim remained.

She was dead now, well, as dead as I believed her to be. Daddy, too. Only I remained. The house had been suffocating at first, my body unable to handle the loneliness. My memories of the attack were weak and dimly lit, but I could never forget the moment the burn began. I will never forget what led up to it.

At the ripe age of nineteen, my father was planning to marry me off to a local boy called Percival Hobbs. Mr.Hobbs was a fine gentleman, his sensibilities and wit uncharacteristically gentle and kind for a man of the era. We were both middle classes, his family only slightly richer than my own, and well matched. I was happy to be marrying him, especially when he told me his plans of expanding his father’s business out of Virginia. I hated this place back then; I could recall that fairly well despite the thick film which covered my old life.

My mother was an unusual woman of which I had gotten my own set of quirks. When I was young, I could remember her singing as she cooked, weaving flowers through her greasy hair as she doted on my father as if he were a king. We never went without, and her joy was contagious. My mother, for all intents and purposes, was a happy person. Perhaps a bit odd, she was more outspoken and considered rather rude to the other women in Richmond, but no one could truly say anything bad about her.

It was only after a particularly nasty accident that her behavior changed. We were on our way to visit her sister in Norfolk when our horses were startled by something out in the woods. Our carriage took a fall and my mother hit her head on a rock. We were all lucky to have survived the ordeal, something my father praised God for, but mama was never the same. She never smiled, hardly spoke, and could never find the melodies of the songs she had loved so dearly. It was as though a switch had been flipped and the light within her was turned off.

Daddy was nervous, as was I, but childish worries and adult sorrow were different. I believed she was sad, but my father knew she would never return back to normal. His work became more demanding after that. As a lawyer, my father was held in high regard at the time and worked long days and nights in order to provide for the three of us. They never bore another child. I believe it was because my mother could no longer stand to be touched and my father could never hurt her, even if it broke his heart.

Years passed that way until a sudden change began to occur. No longer was she silent, but the songs she sang were very different. Her eyes were more alive than they had been in a long, long time, and her voice had come back. The joy of this was short lived, however, as her delusions started soon after. Men who were not really men, monsters who could love, and things that would reflect like diamonds in the sunlight. All of it rubbish, all of it insane, but all of it real in her fragmented mind.

Daddy was planning on getting her committed after she said there were people living in the walls of our home. He might have killed her for declaring her love for a man who shined in the sun if he had not believed her to be completely psychotic. All the while I watched as the woman I held dearly began to hate and resent the both of us. That was when the shouting started, the violence, and then father had no choice but to call the doctor.

He had no way of knowing the chain of events that could cause, nor the dire consequences it would have on me. The doctor came to the house a little after midnight to take my mother away. She screamed and thrashed violently as she went, calling out to her monster to come and save her.

His name had been Louis and I only remember it because of what happened next. She had only said his name once, a broken and terrified cry for help, when the figure appeared. He was a beautiful man; his skin so pale it shined in the carriage’s lantern light. I do not remember if his hair had been brown or black, it was too dark to make out, but I did know his eyes were red. Bloody, dripping with hatred, and trained on the hands of the doctor holding my mother.

The doctor was dead in the next breath he took, my mother curling into the beast’s chest in complete hysterics. Louis then looked at my father, his intentions clear, before finding me. I was crying, my nightgown thin and exposing, and my own horror was reflected back at me. Whatever he saw that day made all the difference. Killing my father was easy for him to do. If he was my mother’s lover, then he would have hated the man who bore her children. I don't remember screaming but I could recall my mother telling me not to be afraid. Louis would make it quick. My death, she said, would be painless.

It was not. When Louis’s teeth sank into my neck, I only felt the slightly pinprick of pressure before I grew tired and weak. I knew I would die, and I did not fight it. I was either too weak or shell-shocked to put much behind it. Then, he was off of me, and I was fighting to keep my eyes open.

“You will be magnificent,” He whispered, kissing my cheek. His voice was soft, presumably to keep my mother from hearing us. I would never know why. “I will take care of her. You take care of yourself, little one.”

Then they were gone, Louis and my mother both. I had barely managed to crawl back inside, my hand clutching the wound on my neck, when the burning started. It lasted for three days and when it was over, I woke up afraid and starved. My father and the doctor were still outside, but I did not care who they were. I drained what was left of them before realizing what I had done. Ashamed and mortified, I put them both in the carriage and set it on fire. No one could know what had happened, of that I was certain.

The next few years of my life were spent in the forests of Virginia staying out of sight and hunting. I lived off of animals mostly, their deaths did not weigh down on my conscience as much as a human's did. My family home was vacant, untouched, and our names were forgotten to time. In 1875, I finally emerged from my isolation in the forests and moved back in. By 1900, I was able to venture into town on a rare occasion when the sun was well hidden beneath a thick layer of clouds. The house had gone through very few changes and the room I stood in now had been my father’s study. I hated the thought of touching anything in it, but I knew I would need to fix this issue. I could feel how weak the wood around it was becoming.

A loud crack of lighting boomed in the distance followed by a low rumbling. The storm was here. My love was not. I kept watching and waiting.

I met Hoseok through coincidence. My friend Seokjin, a Korean immigrant who traveled across the world as a nomad, had stumbled across the boy when he was dying from tuberculosis on the streets of New York. Jin, feeling sorry for the young man, changed him as he had done so five other times. All of his children were nomads, two of them finding their mates, and I got along with them rather well. Hoseok was no exception.

Jin had come to me after Hoseok had taken a swipe at his sire’s own newly transformed mate, Evelyn. The boy needed someone to help him with his temper and dealing with two newborns was rather difficult. I remembered my own early years with distaste. We acted more like animals than people.

Hoseok arrived on my doorstep in 1953, angry, hungry, and completely irrational. He was just over a year old and while the worst of it was over, he had a gift that took its toll on him. Not all of our kind had an extra sense. Jin, for example, was completely normal. His beauty was unparalleled, but even in his human life he was the most handsome man one could have met. Hoseok, however, was not as lucky.

The boy was incredibly powerful, his ability to hypnotize anyone with the sound of his voice was something the Volturi, the leaders and rulers of our kind, would love to get their hands on. For Hoseok, it made his thirst grow quicker and he lacked control of it. He could easily manipulate those around him without meaning to, which was why his brothers did not want to deal with the task. I was Jin’s last resort and the only reason he had come to me was my own gift.

I lived in my world in a sort of bubble. Gifts, no matter the kind, were ineffective against it. The bubble was invisible, elastic, and malleable, but impenetrable. I could choose to remove it from myself and take the brunt of whatever ability was being thrown at me, but I had only done it twice. Both times had been when Jungkook had come to see me and wanted to know if his gift, to make fake clones of himself, could throw me off. He won the first round, but I came out on top the second time. Being the sore loser he is, Jungkook never asked for a rematch.

Hoseok and I took some time to warm up to one another. The pull toward him was instantaneous but he was too young and wild for either one of us to explore what that could mean. The first five months was spent chasing him down before he could attack the unsuspecting townsfolk in Richmond. Then it was showing him the way I hunted. When his eyes changed from red to amber to gold, his mood stabilized. Our friendship was finally able to take root and before long our love bloomed.

After our first kiss under the stars in the trees that surrounded my home, we were connected so deeply that removing one would surely bring death upon the other. When I was a child, I had been disappointed to grow up in the East. We were in the more rural part of Richmond and all of the girls at school made fun of me for being a ‘country bumpkin.’ As a vampire, however, my little ranch was a paradise. Hoseok and I could make love for hours and no one would hear a thing.

Right now, during this thunderstorm, would be prime time for us to lose ourselves within one another. It was a shame he had decided to go hunting alone today. Hoseok liked having space far more than I did, but I understood his wants and needs and gave him what he asked for. I could only hope his delay was from him getting distracted and not an unfortunate slip up. He had them more than I did, and they ruined his mood for weeks.

Finally, I saw him. His black hair was slick and stuck to his forehead from the rain, the linen pajamas he had worn out transparent and heavy. Elated to finally have him home, I jumped out of the window and crashed into him. The sound was thunderous.

Hoseok laughed, “Hey there, Sunshine.”

On top of him, I sighed, holding him close to me. The rain was cold, but it would not bother me. I could not get sick. Capturing his lips, I finally felt at ease. I did not like it when he was gone. The house was too quiet.

“I love you,” I sighed, feeling my body hum to life with need. “I missed you. Touch me.”

This aspect of our love life had been difficult for me at first. I was from an era when a woman did not speak this way, but after gentle coaxing from my lover, I had gotten over the prudishness of the 1850s. We were, after all, more connected than any human couple could hope to be. Gripping my hips, Hoseok licked my bottom lip.

“Can we go inside?” He asked, nipping at my chin as my hands shredded his shirt. “The rain is distracting.”

I nodded and he scooped me up, carrying me back inside at our natural speed. We were fan, faster than any living thing on the planet, and able to see the world clearly as we passed it by. Hoseok ripped the front door of its hinges, making me laugh. He was always so impatient when it came to sex.

We ran up the steps, passing the study on the way to our bedroom. The door was still open, the rain pouring into it. I wondered briefly what my father would have thought of Hoseok. Then his lips were attached to my ear and all thoughts of my father were gone.

He was less aggressive with the door to our bedroom. A creak inaudible to the human ear sent a chill up my spine as I clung to his wet body. His skin felt hot under my hands despite how cold we both were. Hoseok was panting like a dog, more from his excitement than any real need for air.

He laid me down on our bed gently before tearing off my dress. The chemise pulled apart as easily as a piece of paper. Hoseok’s mouth found my chest as soon as it was exposed to him, mouth finding a nipple as a hand fiddled with the other. Whining, I buried my hands in his hair and held him close to me.

“I missed you so much,” I cried out.

Hoseok bit down on the little nub before letting it go with a loud smack. Fingers still twisting and brushing my right nipple, he smiled down at me. Topaz eyes were pitch black with desire and a low purr reverberated through his chest. I felt it in my groin.

“I missed you more,” He replied huskily.

I smiled shyly, reaching out for him. Hoseok leaned into my touch, purring increasing as I caressed his face. Pouting my lips, I begged him to come closer with my eyes. He smiled; his eyes soft.

“I wish you could see how beautiful you look right now.”

He sucked on my chest for what felt like hours, grinding his hips down to meet my own, and purring like a cat the entire time. He had always embraced the more animalistic aspects of our life. My breathy sighs spurred him on, my hands increasing their wandering across his torso, as I silently pleaded with him for more. Hoseok only made me wait a few moments more before sloppy kisses descended down my stomach.

A thin pair of cotton underwear separated us, but he simply licked over the fabric. I cried out, the pleasure sending shockwaves through my body. Long, hard swipes of his tongue had my writhing, his breath so hot and warm against me it felt like I was taking a scolding bath. With every lick and suck I felt myself grow hotter. Hoseok lost himself to his own pleasure, rubbing himself against the mattress as he held my legs apart.

Sex was not always so brazen. Our first few times were more primal, the need to be close after months of dancing around the issue making the release all the more powerful. After that, I had grown slightly shy. Hoseok had taken to leaving my top on during those days, letting me grow more comfortable in his presence, and taking me so gently I cried. The next 70 years have taught us a great deal about one another, and now sex was just a part of who we were. Not a day went by that we were not lost to it, each time bringing out a different part of us, before going back to our respective hobbies. In a storm like this, however, I imagined we would not leave this bed.

“Please,” I whined. “More.”

Finally, the thin piece of cotton was removed, and his tongue was on me. Long and broad at first, he liked to play with me for a few moments before diving in. Unlike myself, my love had enough patience to watch and wait. Savoring it, he said. I think he just enjoyed being the only person who could see my eyes roll back in ecstasy.

I felt the ghost of his fingers trailing down my leg at the same time his mouth found my clitoris. I hissed, back arching off the bed as he swirled his tongue around the bud. His finger pressed against my opening. I gushed around it, grinding my hips down and forcing the tip inside of me. Hoseok groaned, tongue becoming more aggressive. I cried out, pushing down again and swallowing more of his finger. Finally, with a deep growl, he pushed it the rest of the way and added another immediately after.

I had never felt more alive than when we were in this bed. With Hoseok on top of me, eyes hungry and watching my every move like I was the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. The monster within me was finally asleep as I became all consumed with his touch. Finding the soft bundle of nerves within me, Hoseok purred. I sobbed, the pleasure overwhelming.

“Look at you,” Hoseok rasped, moving from my sex to watch me. His fingers stretched me out as my hips raised to meet his thrusts. “So pretty and warm.”

He kissed my neck, “Your body is so beautiful.”

Languid kisses down across my throat, teeth gently grazing the skin, before trailing back down to my breasts. They had always been his favorite part of my body. He licked down the swell before kissing my nipple. His fingers sped up their menstruations making me mewl.

“God,” He croaked, voice deeper than normal. “You love this, don’t you?”

I nodded, body twitching and convulsing. “Yes.”

“Tell me how much,” He sucked on my left nipple.

I struggled to find words. My body was on fire now, my stomach tightening and expanding, and I knew I was close. My thighs were shaking so violently I would be embarrassed if it was anybody else, but this was Hoseok, and I knew he was happy to see my body singing for him. Somehow, I managed to speak.

“So much,” I breathed. “I love it so much.”

Sitting back on his ankles, he smirked. His shirt was gone and his toned body was on full display. I would never get bored of looking at him. Hoseok was the most beautiful person I had ever seen.

“You’re so messy,” His voice was like velvet. “So wet for me.”

His thumb found my clit and I was cumming before I could really savor the feeling. With a loud shout, I fell apart with Hoseok’s eyes on me. I was wired up and so desperate for more I began to beg. My pleas came out without a single thought behind them. I was drunk on pleasure and yearning for more.

“Just relax,” He finally said, hovering over me once more. His fingers were gone now and I began to tear at his pants. They were still wet and his skin had cooled the rain even further. “I’m going to take care of you.”

My hands were all over him. With his pants disposed of and his cock out, I held it tightly as I began to work my hands in a rhythm I knew he loved. Hoseok let out a guttural sound, a mix between a bear and a mountain lion, as he began to fondle my breasts again. Flicking my nipples, he fucked himself into my hand as he panted.

“Stop,” He grunted, grabbing hold of my wrist. “Grab your legs.”

I did as I was told. It had been difficult to let go of my control in the beginning. I was such a tightly wound person, my need for schedules and sameness a byproduct of my upbringing. I was raised to be prim, proper, and well put together. Even if I did not feel well, I was to be washed, dressed, and smiling all day long. Father would not accept anything less.

When my sexual relationship with Hoseok started, that was still a large part of who I was. When we changed we were frozen in time. It took a lot to cause great change within our kind. For myself, I had only had two since the burning stopped. The first was my decision to stop hunting the humans in my area. Animal blood helped calm the raging anger and depression I carried over from the last night I was alive. The second had been Hoseok’s arrival. Our mates changed us in the most profound way, and his existence made the looming sadness I carried with me fade. It was not gone, it would never fully heal for that was impossible, but he made the gaping hole in my heart three times smaller.

The other thing that changed was my horrible habit of controlling the people around me. Jin and the others all commented on my inability to relax or let go. Jimin, the first person Jin had ever changed, had joked that I was the only vampire in existence with wrinkles. I laughed at the time, but after Hoseok came to me I realized he had been right. I was always stressed, always striving for perfection, and always disappointed when it never came to fruition.

Laying underneath him, I was in awe at how easily I pushed my legs up against my chest. My arm pinned them down. There was not a worry about how improper I looked or if my hair was splayed out nicely. I did not care if this was perfect because I knew we were. Hoseok pressed himself to my entrance and I smiled. I did not need perfection so long as I had him.

Pushing himself into me, he cried out in pleasure while I chanted ‘yes’ over and over and over again. Buried to the hilt, Hoseok took a moment to hook my legs around his hips and kissed the tip of my nose. With a soft declaration of his love, he began to move.

I held onto his arms with everything I had. Hoseok was stronger than I was so I did not need to worry about my own strength bothering him. Outside the storm raged on while we rejoiced in our pleasure. Hoseok’s thrusts were hard, steady, and hit my deepest spot with precision. After so long we had one another memorized.

“S’good,” Hoseok slurred, his hips pistoning into me roughly. “You feel so good.”

I whimpered, “Baby, please.”

He grabbed my hair, roughly shoving my face into the mattress as he lifted his leg onto the bed. I wailed, his cock pounding into my g-spot making me see stars. His own sounds grew louder, growls and snarls filling the space as the sounds of us coming together grew louder and louder.

Fire was pooling in my lower abdomen, so hot it rivaled my change. I could feel Hoseok pulsing inside of me, his grip on my hair still hard and strong. Then he tugged, my head lifting off the bed as he manhandled me. He forced our mouths together, a clashing of teeth and tongue as he chased his own high. Time began to slow before fading, the fire all consuming, and I could no longer respond to Hoseok’s kisses. He let go of me then and I fell back onto the bed.

Everything faded into white, hot, searing sparks shooting up my entire body and licking my bones on their way out. I could vaguely hear the sound of something being torn as my body convulsed with the weight of my orgasm. Above me, Hoseok stuttered.

“I love you,” He said, his own pleasure closing in.

I hardly paid him any attention. Our kind would never tire, never sleep, or sweat, but I was positive I was at least two of them at this moment. I felt like I was in a trance as I watched him fall apart, his eyebrows pulled together and his mouth agape. His grunts and groans were more like cries now, higher and pitch and breathless. Then, with one final thrust he was spilling into me.

We stayed that way for a while, Hoseok inside of me as we looked into one another's eyes. Neither one of us was particularly tired but I knew we would take a break before our next round. The both of us enjoyed the human charade of cuddling and pretending to sleep for a time. Eyes closed and breathing evenly before finally one of us would break. Outside a particularly loud rumble made him grin.

“How would dancing in the rain sound?” He asked.

I laughed, heart full now that he was here.

“What kind of dancing?” I teased, already knowing my answer.

“Well, it will not require clothing.”

I pushed him away, sending his body back toward the other side of the room. With a wicked grin, Hoseok jumped to catch me, but I was already gone. If Hoseok was the strongest, I was the fastest. I ran down the hall, into my father's study, and out of the window with Hoseok fast on my trail.

My change had always seemed so meaningless before Hoseok came. Years spent wondering Louis’s reasoning and subsequent abandonment. I had never seen nor heard from either Louis or my mother since that night, and that left so much time for me to grow angry and bitter about this life. I hated what I was and who I was forced to be.

Now, running in with Hoseok in the afterglow of our love I realized something that would cause a third change within me. Everything that had led me up to this moment was worth it. All of the pain, loneliness, and heartache I had gone through was not a curse. It was a precursor. Every memory leading to the very reason for my existence closer still. A smile stretched across my face, one of my rarest, largest of smiles, and I let Hoseok catch me.

As long as he was here, nothing else mattered.

© chimcess, 2024. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[polishchuk]

Yukio Mishima as Saint Sebastian (60s)/ Guido Reni - Saint Sebastian, 1615

“I was flipping through one of the last pages of a volume. All of a sudden, from the corner of the next page, there flashed before my eyes an image that I had to assume had lurked there for my benefit alone.

It was a reproduction of Guido Reni’s Saint Sebastian, which figures in the collection of Palazzo Rosso in Genoa.

The trunk of the tree of torment, black and slightly oblique, stood out against the Titianesque background of a gloomy forest and a serene sky, gloomy and distant. A young man of singular loveliness stood bound naked to the trunk of the tree, his arms drawn up, and the straps that clasped his crossed wrists were fastened to the tree itself. No ties of any other kind were discernible, and the only covering of the young man’s nakedness consisted of a rough white cloth that loosely wrapped around his loins.

I imagined that it was a description of a Christian martyrdom. But since it was due to a painter of the eclectic school derived from the Renaissance, even from this painting depicting the death of a Christian saint exuded a strong aroma of paganism. The young man’s body - one could even compare it to that of Antinous, Hadrian’s favorite, whose beauty was so often immortalized in sculpture - bears no trace of the hardships or exhaustion derived from missionary life, which imprint the effigy of other saints: instead, this one uniquely manifests the springtime of youth, uniquely light and pleasure and gracefulness.

That white and incomparable nudity of hers sparkles against a background of twilight. His sinewy arms, the arms of a praetorian accustomed to flex his bow and brandish his sword, are raised in a harmonious curve, and his wrists cross immediately above his head. The face is turned slightly upward and the eyes are wide open, contemplating the glory of heaven with deep tranquility. It is not suffering that hovers over the expanded chest, the taut abdomen, the barely twisted lips, but a flicker of melancholy pleasure like music. Were it not for the arrows with their points stuck in his left armpit and right hip, he would rather look like a Roman athlete relieving fatigue in a garden, leaning against a dark tree.

Arrows have plunged into the heart of the young, pulpy, fragrant flesh, and are about to consume the body from within with flames of heartbreak and supreme ecstasy. But the blood is not gushing out; the swarm of arrows seen in other paintings of St. Sebastian’s martyrdom has not yet raged. Here instead, two lone arrows send their quiet and delicate shadows over the smoothness of the skin, similar to the shadows of a branch falling on a marble staircase.

But all these interpretations and discoveries came later.

That day, the moment I glimpsed the painting, my whole being quivered with pagan joy. My blood roiled in my veins, my loins swelled almost in an emptiness of rage. The monstrous part of me that was close to exploding waited for me to use it with unprecedented ardor, rebuking my ignorance, gasping in outrage. My hands, not at all unconsciously, began a movement I had never learned. I felt something secret, something radiant, launching itself rattily to the assault from within. It erupted suddenly, bringing with it a blinding intoxication....

Some time elapsed and then, in a desolate mood, I looked around at the desk I stood in front of. Outside the window a maple tree was casting a vivid glare everywhere -- on the ink bottle, on school books and notebooks, on the dictionary, on the image of St. Sebastian. Splashes of a dim whiteness appeared here and there - on the title in gold letters of a textbook, on the margin of the inkwell, on an edge of the dictionary. Some objects dripped lazily, others glowed with a dim gleam like the eyes of a dead fish. Fortunately, a reflexive movement of my hand to protect the figure had prevented the volume from soiling.

That was my first ejaculation. And it was also the clumsy and totally unplanned beginning of my “bad habit.”

–Yukio Mishima “Confessions of a Mask”

[wen-kexing-apologist]

Random BL Superlatives: 2023

Well @lurkingshan did it, so I must do it. So here are some random, WKA themed superlatives for the 2023 BL selection.

Best Hands: Mhok and Day, Last Twilight

gif by @singularities

Listen. I know. I KNOW. There are so many incredible options, and I have written at length about a number of them. I mean come on, La Pluie is right there, I Feel You Linger in the Air is right there, Sing My Crush, Moonlight Chicken etc. etc. etc. But

But, Last Twilight came in with the steel chair right at the end of the year here with that FUCKING HANDSING SCENE. Can you blame me? The handsing scene is shrimply too powerful.

Best Lighting: Playboyy

You know, it's funny cause I don't usually end up writing about lighting in shows, despite the fact that lighting design is absolutely one of my favorite things in film, stage, and television. Chains of Heart has really interesting lighting too, but Playboyy is an objectively better show, and it is doing some absolutely gorgeous lighting design.

Best Sex Scene: Olive Oil, I Feel You Linger in the Air

gif by @pharawee

THE OLIVE OIL SCENE, WHY ARE THERE NO GIFSETS OF THE OLIVE OIL SCENE? WHY IS TUMBLR SUCH A FUCKING HATER???? They didn't even fuck in that scene, but holy mother of GOD it was the best thing I've seen all year. I Feel You Linger in the Air has some of the most inventive and beautiful intimate moments, and spreading the olive oil as a stand in for arousal and masturbation was absolutely goddamn brilliant.

Best Faen (Non)Fatale: Porjai, Last Twilight

gif from @khaopybara

I know Last Twilight hasn't finished yet and will take us in to 2024, but Porjai and Mohk's relationship is absolutely my favorite lovers to friends dynamic I have seen this year. I was showering praise upon them all for this in the tags of a reblog today, so I have to give it to them. Massive shout out and extremely close call to Nara from La Pluie.

Best Emotional Roller Coaster: What Did You Eat Yesterday? Season 2

Ok there were quite a lot of shows that I think would have applied here, but man oh man this entire season has just run me through the wringer with how much Shiro has grown over the course of the last two seasons. Episode 11 had me laughing my ass off, and then absolutely sobbing by the end. So it's going to Kinou Nani Tabeta?

The Shirt I Want to Steal Most from Wardrobe: Blue and White Button Up, The Sign

gif from @ohshinytrinketsmine

I know this will be contentious when the Fart Proudly shirt is right there, but I really loved the blue and white button up shirt that Phaya wore I do not know what is in the water at IdolFactory, but they have hands down some of the best shirts I have ever seen. When I watched Secret Crush on You I wanted the entirety of Sky's wardrobe, now I am having shirt envy for this sexy little blue-with-white-lines-that-are-vaguely-rabbit-shaped (wka do not write a post about rabbits, do not write a post about rabbits-) button up.

The Character Who Most Changed my Opinion of Them: Phupa, OS2 x BBS x ATOTS

gif by @alexshenry (double PhupaPat whammy for @waitmyturtles)

Okay, so to tell you the truth, I made new superlatives cause if I took the superlatives from @lurkingshan's post it would have been at least half the same if not more (because as always, Shan is right about everything). But, I will put an overlap here because I absolutely could not let this year go by without applauding Aof, Earth, and Phupa for really putting in the work to help me understand this man better.

The Show That Most Surprised Me: Wedding Plan by MAME

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

Okay not only was this show that I absolutely was not planning to watch or initially interested in actually one of the best of the year, but it was also a MAME show. And a lot of us have our critiques of MAME's writing, but this was so outside of her typical MO that I am shocked it came from the same writer. Love Sailom, love a Lavender Wedding, love Nuea, love it all.

The Trope This Year That Most Accounted for the Fact These Are Gay MEN: Boxing! Sing My Crush, Wedding Plan, The Sign

Sing My Crush did this the absolute best, but I really genuinely loved that multiple shows this year let men fight in controlled settings to get out some of their frustration and to process their feelings. Han Ba Ram crying in the gym? One of my favorite scenes of the entire year.

And yeah sure, Phaya and Tharn are fighting for the intricate rituals that allow men to touch the skin of men, we get the horny vibes, but fundamentally this fight does occur because Tharn is angsty and ignoring Phaya and that cannot stand. I like seeing Phaya sparring with the punching bag at the end of the most recent episode as well because he's fucking furious about Tharn telling the doctor about his dreams. I love it, I love it so much.

[hero-of-the-wolf]

How do you think the chain would react to spiders?

I love this ask. (I love spiders hehe)

I believe it was @crazylittlejester’s hc that Time has really bad arachnophobia and I so agree. this man could be defeated by one singular itty bitty black spider. he thinks anyone who isn’t rightfully scared of spiders is insane, actually

a bit of a controversial opinion but I think Warriors would think spiders are pretty cool actually. from a distance. that’s far away from him and his personal space, thank you

Twilight is OBSESSED with the little guys. he picks them up gently and shows them off to the others (they hate this). all the spiders that live in his house have names. he gets sad when the others are mean to them :(

Legend is not above screaming and incinerating any unlucky spider with his fire rod 💔

I think Hyrule would be chill with spiders. he’s the type that would scoop one up (probably with his bare hands) and gently set it outside

Four is not a fan. but as long as somebody’s taking care of em he’s not gonna worry about it

Wild used to dislike spiders but due to outside influences (Twilight and Flora both), he’s starting to really warm up to them. still reluctant to touch them tho, so he’ll grab a cup if one needs to be moved

Wind is curious. he’s not really run into spiders a whole lot before, and he loves to learn new things. but he’s taking the captain’s lead on this one and learning from a safe distance

he is extremely reluctant to admit it, but Sky is pretty unnerved by spiders too. he’s mostly fine with the little ones, but the bigger they get the more his fear of em increases. if he can help it, he’d rather the others never find out that the Godkiller is scared of spiders 💔

[luimagines]

Legend’s Secret Friend (800 Follower Raffle)

Our second place winner was @ships-lover!

They wanted something similar to Four Gets No Mercy, from the last raffle. Where they have a secret friend that more or less has their heart. I hope you all enjoy.

Content under the cut!

The group stopped in the nearest house they could find. The Veteran was hospitable enough to point the way to where his house resided. After the door was unlocked and the tables with merchandise were cleared, the group finally was able to rid themselves of their layers and armor.

It didn’t take long for the boys to begin doing their own thing. Wild made it his mission to familiarize himself with the kitchen and to take on Hyrule as his helper. Sky and Warrior were both quick to work on personal things. Whether that be item maintenance of supply checks.

Four stepped out, making it quickly known that he was going to check out the forge and do what he could with his blacksmithing knowledge. Curious about the techniques and glory of it all, Wind followed suit.

Time and Twilight sat by the single table left over, talking quietly. They were too tired to look over what the group was doing, nor who was still held accountable. Being in the relative comfort and safety of the town, they hoped that the others wouldn’t do anything that would require a bail out. They wouldn’t vouch for their characters… too much anyway.

There was one person that no one thought to consider.

Legend looked at his warry and exhausted friends. While there were some people that he held some reservations about letting out of his sight, there was one singular person that he had to see no matter the cost.

He takes a silent breath and leaves his home, heading to the back and through the nearby forest.Legend takes a familiar path. He knows it almost by heart at this point. He’s almost certain he would have been able to take it blindfolded at this point.

“Hey!” He whisper yells into the space around him. He was still closer to the house than you would have usually met but he’s excited. “Are you here? I’m back!”

No reply.

Undeterred, Legend walks further down the path, picking his pace up to a jog. “Hey!” He calls your name. “Where are you?”

Silence.

Then the branch on a nearby tree wobbles and shakes. The leaves fall to the ground in their silent dances and a body swings downward, still holding onto the branch. The person is upside and their hair sticks out at odd angles but they smile brightly. “Link!”

They drop and run to the young man, hugging him fiercely as they collide. “I thought you would be gone for longer!”

“So did I.” He laughs and spins them around for good measure. “I can’t stay for long. I’m only here for a visit but I had to see you again.” 

Legend’s heart dips when the smile falls off of your face at the news. You release him and frown, holding back a long suffering sigh. You grab ahold of his hands and hold them close. “Can’t you stay for longer this time? You’re always going somewhere. Something is always happening.”

“I know.” Legend holds your hands back, tightening his hold on them. “But not this time. We’re not even done with the first problem to begin with.”

“We?” You perk up. “But didn’t you leave by yourself? Who’s this we?”

Legend pauses and his eyes get a little shifty. “I did… But then I met some people. They’re heroes too. Good people. If annoying, at times.” He adds as an afterthought.

You also pause a bit, letting his words drape over you like a blanket. You’ve only ever heard Link speak about people in that tone once or twice before. The first time was when you asked about his favorite memory with his uncle. The second was a bit more recent and it was when you asked about the purple rabbit that takes over his house when he’s gone.

(You’ve spoken to him. He seems nice, if a bit skittish. Although you couldn’t have imagined why.)

Link’s current tone was rare and reserved for the people he came to care about the most. You’re not sure what to make of it. But in the short time that he’s been away from home, they clearly made an impact on him.

Legend notices that you’re not as focused as you were before he spoke. He clears his throat, running his thumbs over your knuckles comfortingly. Although is it because they’re rougher than when he left or is it because he missed your touch? He’s afraid to answer the question himself. 

“I don’t know how long I can stay away from them.” He admits. “Even if this is my home, they might come looking for me soon. I know you don’t want to be near too many people. So I’m warning you now.”

A small whine escapes you and Legend’s heart starts betraying him. “Hey. I always come back. Just like I promised.”

“That’s not fair though.” You say quietly. “You’re always doing something. You just got here. Why do you have to leave again?”

Legend chuckles softly and pulls your close, letting your hands go to wrap his arms around you. “You keep me sane. Honestly, I would have lost my mind without you.”

He hears your breath hitch for a moment and worries that you might be secretly injured. It wouldn’t be the first time. “Hey.” He pulls back, looking over you just in case. “Are you o-?”

“Veteran!” The Captain yells. “Are you back here? Don’t make me get Wolfie.”

Legend curses and turns back. “That’s the most annoying one of the bunch. I’ll try to come back later, ok? Time to play, involuntary tour guide.”

You nod, letting him go with little fanfare. Legend isn’t used to it, so he finds himself looking back to stay for longer. 

“Vet!”

He groans again. “Until I can get away again. Take care, goodbye!”

Legend waves and jogs away, giving you enough time to go back and hide amongst the foliage.

“What?” He asks upon arrival. “I was looking for something.”

“Did you find it?” Warrior asks with a raised eyebrow. “How far did you go? You usually don’t go too far when there’s something to worry about.”

“No where.” Legend passes him. “Now where’s the fire? Surely it must have been bad if you had to call me back the way you did.”

Warrior doesn’t seem to believe him but he tells him the situation. And while Legend was joking about the fire, he’s right on the money. Although nothing was burned, thankfully, it appears that Legend is going to have to give the resident cooks a crash course on how to work his magic fueled stove if they want to have anything for dinner.

The hours go by and Legend doesn’t stop thinking about you. You seemed so sad the second he said he had to return to the journey at hand. Heknew that you would prefer him to stay home… and if he was being honest, it was getting more and more appealing to do so. Maybe Link was going soft. But there was something in the way you always seemed to brighten when he went to see you.

Would it really be so bad to stay back just this once?

Yes. Yes, it would have, a voice in his head says. These people also have homes and people that are waiting for their safe return and they haven’t had the chance to check in on them like he has. He can’t be selfish.

Legend sighs and shakes his head, sitting by his table. He wants to make you feel better. Maybe get you something nice before they leave again. He just doesn’t know what to do.

There’s a knock at the door and Legend is going to riot. Your point is proven to be true even when he’s in his own house. The second he sits down, there’s something else calling for his attention.

He looks around, waiting for someone to try and make a move to answer it. But they are in his house. He has to go and check who it is.

Legend goes to open the door, his typical half hearted greeting on the tip of his tongue. “Hello- you’ve reached Link’s residence. Please state your business and-”

“I came to see your friends.” You interrupt in that quiet and unsure voice of yours.

Legend steps back in surprise. That’s new. You’ve never done this before. He says your name in a whispered panic. “What are you doing here? What if the village sees you?”

“A friend of yours, Vet?” Sky asks from the other side.

The door opens from behind Legend and Wind pokes his head out from the other side. “Hello!” He says brightly. “Are you the love of his life that Legend’s mentioned time and time again?”

“WHAT?!” Legend takes a swing at the boy. Wind ducks and laughter, jumping out of the way before any real damage can be done. Legend’s face is bright red and he stumbles over his words to clear the accusation. 

You step into the house and wave shyly. There’s more people than you anticipated. They all look at you with varying degrees of interest and intrigue.

Legend looks panicked. “Everybody be nice.” He warns them and introduces you. It’s not like you’ve left with any other choice. “They live…. Nearby.”

“Is that who you went to go see?” Warrior smirks.

“Captain.” Legend’s jaw flexes. “Shut it.”

“Would you like to stay for dinner?” Wild blurts, cutting the tension. He’s looking right at you with the pot in his mit covered hands. “I just finished cooking and was about to serve it.”

You nod with a near invisible tilt to your head. “Yes please. I would like that a lot.”

Legend takes your hand. “Are you sure? They get loud.”

“You like them.” You say simply. “They’re important to you. As long as they’re friendly, I don’t mind.”

Legend grits his teeth again. “Alright. If you say so. But no one is going to hold it against you if you need to duck out and leave. You don’t have to push yourself like this.”

“I want to.” You take his hand. “You speak in a way only so often. I want to know why you like them so much.”

“Awww~ I knew he cared.” Four laughs to himself and smirks, leaning in his chair. There’s some char on his sleeves but no one seems to comment on them.

Legend would throw something at him if he could. It’s a shame his house doesn’t have less valuable things. He shakes with his restrained frustration and nerves. Legend looks away to keep his mouth shut. It’s a shame he can’t hide the pink tint to the tips of his ears.

You giggle, taking the spot where you’d normally sit. “Link can be prickly when he wants to be. But once you get past all of that, he’s a huge sweetheart. He’s my favorite person.”

Legend’s blush expands over his cheeks. “Hey- hey now-”

“Would you be willing to tell us more?” Hyrule leans forward. “How did you two meet?”

“That’s a longer story.” You admit, rubbing your forearm nervously.

“Well we have time.” Twilight calls from the other end of the table. “We don’t plan on going anywhere for a while.”

“I hate this.” Legend deflates in defeat.

“You love us.” Wild laughs, setting the pot on the table and bringing over the plates to serve the food.

“I never said that.” Legend fires back.

“But you do.” You say softly, smiling at him. “You don’t have to say it. You show it. It’s in your voice whether you know it or not.” You call him out. You turn back to the traveler and scoot your chair in closer. “We met when we were little. It was before he was wanted by the entire kingdom of Hyrule.”

“I’m sorry- what?” Time frowns.

“Oh…did he not tell you about that?” You blink.

Legend groans out your name, sitting next to you. “Great. Story time.”

You laugh, gathering the attention of everyone once more. “One at a time. We met in the forest and I was busy digging a tunnel-”

[bokettochild]

Demon In A Bottle

Took me bloody well forever, but I'm off work now, so here we go!

Febuwhump: Day 1 - Helplessness

Word Count: 5,395

Summary: In the wake of a battle with a demon, one that's abilities allow it to dredge up old miseries, Sky must hunt down their straying captain to try and stop him drowning said old miseries in whiskey.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Alcoholism and Substance Abuse

notes: quite frankly, the theme of this fic is in no ways lighthearted, but while the title jumped out at me from the story, I find it also makes me laugh. I can’t help thinking of the tweetle-beetle-bottle-puddle-paddle-battle-muddle from Fox in Socks and I don’t know if I hate myself for it or am just glad I can giggle about something related to this story! 

  If there’s one thing heroes are supposed to be able to do, it’s save people. By definition, a hero is someone who helps others, but in meeting the rest of their chain of heroes, Sky has since learned that the title of hero means something else too. 

  The Hero is a man or child clad in green who appears when Hyrule is in danger to fight away monsters and evil and restore peace to the kingdom. The fashion in which they do so differs of course, as he’s slowly learning, but the fact remains that a hero still has a duty to his people and his country, and while it’s not always something thrust upon them, each one of his brothers bears that burden. Some of them let it drag them down, the weight of the world on their shoulders an inescapable duty, others shoulder it as a life purpose, a defining role, something that they’ve built their whole being around, and others, like Wind, regard it as a natural course of action. 

  It’s strange, learning that the title is so commonly used, that so many men and boys have borne it since it was given to him what feels like ages ago. In a way, it’s nice knowing that there are others, that there are people like him who understand things, yet in the same breath, they’re all so different, and with such varying experiences that really, in the long run, they’re as different as night and day sometimes. 

  As if to prove it, Legend’s blatant lack of trust in knights clashes with the fact that so many of them bear the honor of knighthood with pride. Warriors is a polished, well-spoken soldier, trained in the ways of combat, and Twilight is a ranch hand hailing from the country village of Ordon, brash in many ways that clash with the captain. Time is quiet, distant at times, and Wind is warm, welcoming and an ever-present ray of sunshine at their sides. Where Hyrule is unpolished and unassuming, the majority of their group stand out in a crowd. Wild can cook. Truly, there is such variety among their number that it’s a wonder they can all be classified by the same singular word: a hero. 

  But just because the title is there, doesn’t always mean it always feels like it fits. 

  Sure, Legend’s whole being is built around his life as a hero. They're not sure how long he’s been doing it, but they don’t call the young man “veteran” for nothing. It’s clear he owns his title without shame, living out each day in the effort of following the destiny given to him. Sure, Wild has taken to heart the burden bestowed on him, striving to be the best he can be and own the title. Sure, Wind accepts it like it’s just another truth about himself, just the same as his golden hair and ocean blue eyes. Yes, the old man seems to characterize what any child might think of when asked to describe a hero. But Sky is not Legend or Wind or Wild or Time or any of the other heroes. They are of the same spirit, and some of them apparently share blood (why had Twilight and Time told no one?) but they are each their own separate selves, each with his own life and person, and unlike them, Sky feels the weight of their shared title acutely. 

  It was his duty to save Zelda. The weight of the future was on his shoulders. His duty was protecting the people of Hylia and restoring peace and safety to the surface. His whole world expanded in one day from a smattering of islands high above the clouds to a whole huge land full of people and animals and duty. 

  Duty. What a heavy word. 

  It follows him. Even with the sword now silent, Fi having gone to rest with the assurance that he has accomplished what he must and no longer requires her aid and guidance (even though he does, he still does, please, Fi, some advice would be great from time to time) his mission isn’t over. No, because now that he’s defeated the god of evil, now that Zelda is safe, now that Impa is dead, he is the one Hylian out of all of them who knows enough about the surface to guide the other in surviving there. Yet, in the same breath, he’s still the youngster who barely graduated Academy, never mind being properly knighted. He’s still young enough that the elders sometimes doubt him, but experienced enough that they know not to treat him like a child. He’s ‘too young’ to understand the Knights of Skyloft, but has seen more of the world than they ever have. 

  It’s strange, being caught in such an imbalance. People expect so much and yet so little of him. They want him to know what’s happening but doubt that he does. They ask for advice but question anything he gives them.  

  It’s exhausting. He knows Zelda used to tease him before, but the nickname “sleepy-head” never felt so accurate. 

  At least with the chain though, he doesn’t need to worry about it. Call him selfish, but there’s a certain kind of relief that comes from allowing someone else to take the lead, knowing that everyone else understands the world around him better and knows what to do. He doesn’t need to babysit them around new species or warn them about dangerous conditions or fauna. He doesn’t need to even be on guard, instead free to drift along at the center of the group, knowing that Twilight’s sharp ears and Legend’s acute sense of danger will provide ample warning if anything does come upon them. 

  He’s free to sleep for the first time in what feels like forever, without someone busting through his tent in a panic because they heard keese for the first time or realized that rain existed. In fact, he’s allowed to even sleep in sometimes, no plans or defenses or responsibilities waiting for him when he wakes up, just simple easy to follow orders of get up, get ready, walk, fight, and make camp. 

  Call him crazy, this adventure has been almost a vacation if it wasn’t for the fact that Twilight almost died on them a month ago! Or then again, there’s been a lot that happened since then, but even with that in mind, at least he’s not the sole one responsible for the safety, care and guidance of his fellow heroes. More often than not, actually, they’re the ones looking out for him. Honestly, he doesn’t know how he’ll thank Legend for teaching him about the poisons on the surface, or Wild for letting him peek at the champion’s slate to read what he can about monster types, weaknesses and whatnot. The other heroes have this and that to add, of course, but those two have been the most helpful, seeking him out in order to show him things first hand when they can, so that while Wild and Hyrule often go to muck about, he and Legend find their free time typically spent with the veteran teaching him everything he knows about the surface world, survival, and even matters beyond that; matters beyond being a hero and more about just being. It's nice learning things for the sake of learning, not for the sake of staying alive, and Legend talks with a similar cadence and manner to Fi when he’s caught up in expounding on this point or that, uninterrupted because Sky very much appreciates both the effort and the guidance. 

  For all Legend has to share with him though, the vet isn’t exactly someone he can turn to when it comes to problems with people. Honestly, sometimes it feels like he returns the kindness shown to him by the younger hero by covering Legend’s ass when it comes to social interactions, at least among their group. The vet’s left a terrible first impression on most of them, and since it seems everyone else is equally bad as he is when it comes to communication, there’s still many in their group under the impression that their vet is a total asshole. 

  So yeah, Legend is not the best person to ask for help when it comes to people issues. Time either. Time and he aren’t close by any exaggeration of the word, and while the older man is willing to offer advice here and there, Sky’s not certain he feels comfortable seeking it out. Typically speaking, he’s found that Warriors is the best person to ask about these sorts of things, being as he is a man and not a child and possesses the social skill necessary to address this sort of thing, only.... 

  Only, it’s terribly hard to ask someone for advice on how to handle their own stupidity. 

  He is not blind. Okay, well, maybe, and to some things, but missing Time and Twilight’s relationship is likely more a matter of him not being close enough to either to really put much stock in their interactions. Their leader’s fondness for one of their number wasn’t too shocking considering how attached he himself has become to all of them in such a short time. He'd just assumed that Time moved slower and had begun to warm up to them one at a time, starting with the rancher and moving on to the sailor. He'd thought they’d all follow in time, not that Time just ultimately had favorites. 

  Despite missing that though, he’s not entirely incompetent. He sees his brothers, and much as they might have all assumed he was simply the tired, quiet one, just because he doesn’t speak up doesn’t mean he’s not paying attention. No, he sees what happens in camp. He sees Legend’s tentative bids for connection, Wild’s withdrawn attitude that hides behind the smile and the laughter. He sees Wind’s worry and Time’s stress. He knows Twilight is wrung out and confused after his secret was exposed and the rest of them have had to accept the fact that their silent, furry companion was, in fact, one of their brothers.  

  He knows that there’s a breach of trust there, or at least a perceived one. Those who didn’t regard the beast as a threat have often sought the company of their wolf companion in order to express troubles or thoughts that they didn’t wish to share with anyone else, including the rancher himself. Not knowing, they’d told him things, thinking he was just an animal and incapable of sharing them, told him things they didn’t want Twilight to know, things they thought or felt. Now, knowing that Twilight is privy to so many of their secrets, it’s perhaps natural that their barriers have been thrown up, their brothers guarded and wary of what he’ll do with the forbidden knowledge he possesses. 

   He knows it hurts the man, but he understands. He’d never shared his own feelings with their wolf companion, but if Crimson were to one day take hylian form, he’s sure he’d be at least the slightest bit worried about it, maybe even betrayed. Not knowing a dear companion could speak if they so wanted, could be like yourself, would be hurtful. To know they didn’t trust you when you poured out your heart to them... 

  Yes, he understands. 

  Unfortunately, that also means that Twilight is, very much, also not in the category of people who he can come to about things that are worrying him. Sadly, it seems none of them are. He’d never dream of asking the younger ones; Wind is a child and should not be burdened with such things, Hyrule is still struggling to make his own connections, Wild may or may not understand and most definitely has enough on his plate already, Legend is Legend, and he’s never been very close with Four. 

  Which leaves Warriors, who is, again, the course of his frustration. 

  Because, unfortunately, despite being a hero, and despite killing an actual god, Sky finds himself helpless to face a mere vice, a common demon that seems to have taken hold of one of his brothers. 

  It started simple. A night after a tough battle, one where he couldn’t sleep and had wandered downstairs from the inn-room he’d shared with a few of the others, a room where Wind was being kept awake for the sake of his earlier concussion from a battle. Stress was high across the whole group, and he’d needed the space so it was natural that he’d wandered downstairs, hoping to sneak outside and catch some fresh air like he used to on Skyloft. 

  Like on Skyloft, the awful visions that woke him up that night were also cause for his slipping from bed. 

  His intention had been to step out, to catch the breeze on his face and maybe watch the stars for a bit. Legend often says that the stars hold comfort and assurance, and while he doesn’t know nearly as much about them, or the stories and figures the vet can pick out from the heavens, he does know that cloudless nights remind him of home, and bright lights twinkling above had quickly become the only familiar thing between every place he’s gone. 

   Maybe that’s why Legend likes them so much; they’re an unchanging constant no matter where you go. 

  At any rate, he’d needed the space. He hadn’t expected to find any of the others up as well though, much less the captain. In the end, he never made it outside, instead sitting up and talking with the other. 

  He’d thought little of the nearly empty bottle of whiskey at the man’s side, too busy with his own thoughts and worries. 

  He’d thought nothing of it either when, after a terrible battle that nearly saw the loss of the traveler and ended with a passed-out Legend and a very bloody Four, he’d found the captain up stewing quietly over ill thought-out plans and reckless behaviors. The off-handed “I need a drink” had been something to just smile and shake his head at. 

  But then he’d begun to catch on. Rough battles, difficult nights, sleeplessness from worry, from pain and in his own case; from visions. It had resulted in many a night spent up in each other’s company. More worrying still was the constant presence of a little silver flask, held tight in fainty trembling hands as dulled blue eyes would linger over their younger ones. 

  He’d thought it strange, but it was Wind’s worried “has the captain been drinking again?” that really caught him by the ears and shook him. He’d thought it a passive thing, hadn’t paid it much attention because there was no true way to know what was in that little flask (Legend has one too, but it’s got some kind of sweet, spicey juice in it). The sailor asking about it though had changed that. It had revealed that, no, it wasn’t simply a passing thing and was very much a longstanding issue. It was not at all what he was hoping to find out. More so, the youngest can’t even say anything about it, because the captain knowing that his former charge is aware of the vice apparently would have some very, very bad results. 

  So, Wind can’t say anything without potentially making it worse. None of the others know or have seen it enough to realize the weight of the issue, and he’s left the only one who not only knows and witnesses it but has nothing he can do about it. 

  Long nights, dark eyes and pain, so, so much pain in the captain’s face and voice have left him stumbling. The quiet admission of how their elegant captain’s own stepfather was a miserable drunk isn’t any help either, although that conversation had rather quickly turned from him trying to bring up the issue and into the both of them commiserating on the lack of decent father figures in the world. 

  From there. It just... keeps happening. 

  He’s watching, trying to say something and so, so easily letting pretty words and prettier eyes distract him into talking about something else. Quite frankly, it would be terrifying if it wasn’t so impressive how the captain manages to dodge his every quiet attempt by redirecting him onto something else, turning the matter around or simply accepting his concern with a smile and an easy, gentle, so very believable dismissal. Yet, he sees the results. He sees the stress and the tension. He sees the misery that before had hidden so prettily behind a polished mask, but which now spills from time to time into a slippery mess before him, catching him in its mire and leaving him floundering, breathless, and scared. 

  He’s the hero, the one meant to save those around him from trouble, but he’s failing a battle with a bottle that’s he’s not even touching. 

  Watching the result of that failure, the downward spiral, it hurts. It hurts more than blades or arrows or even poison. In a way, it is a sort of poison; a slow working thing that, while he never touched it, has infected not only his own life but those around them. 

 As chaos sows itself across the kingdom, poison spreads within their own number. The attention of their brothers, and indeed, most of his own, is fixed on the protection of their home, on defeating the newly risen foe, on ending things so that their lives can return in some small manner to a semblance of normalcy. And somehow, he lets his worries fall to the background, let’s his mind turn to the struggles spawning up around him with the others, with himself, with things that are ever so much more prominent than a little silver flask. Even the yelling match that sprung up between the vet and druken captain hadn’t refocused him, his attention more fixed on other things in the aftermath; Legend’s behavior, his own aggression when shouting at the captain to just cease and desist with beating the dead horse before he’d marched off after the vet.  

  Fighting and travel have kept him busy since, but failure is as sure a trigger as anything, or so he’s learned. Even now, he watches as the others retreat to lick their wounds, to hide away in their inn rooms, silent and mournful, blood still staining their clothes. He’s sore himself, tired, weary, too worn from the events of things over the last couple of months to actually want more than to lay down himself and sleep, but he doesn’t. 

  No, because when the rest of them go to hide at the inn, the captain goes off alone, a cold, dangerous, dark look in that drawn and tired face, and worry gnawing at the skyloftian’s own heart will not allow for him to even entertain thoughts of sleep, not when he’s learned to know what that look means. He lingers only as long as he must to ensure all the rest are settled, safe and stable, before darting back out onto the streets. 

  Watching is hard. Seeking is harder. 

There’s an awful sort of feeling that comes over him at the realization that the nearest bar is mostly the new location of his straying brother but finding it in the dark is nearly as difficult as dragging himself towards it, knowing full well what he’ll find inside. He does though, he does because he has to and because it’s the right thing to do. He does it because it’s what a hero would do.  

Heroes save people when they’re drawn into danger, and the devil in the bottle is slowly urging his beloved brother and friend in. A steady hiss or whisper or however it’s call manifests for the captain, and one that, if he doesn’t make it in time, he won’t be able to stop from taking hold. 

He can whisper a begrudging thanks to the heavens that Warriors is a gentle drunk most of the time. 

- 

The bar-room's floor is shockingly clean when he enters, considering it’s a farming town they’ve stopped to stay in at Time’s suggestion. Faint, dusty footprints from one or two people scuff in and out, but he can see where thick ash and dirt have clumped and marched across the floor, and following the trail is the easiest thing he’s done today after fighting a far larger, far more terrifying demon. 

In his mind, Sky steels himself; if he can fight Demise and come out alive, he can face up to the captain about this most worrisome coping technique. The key is simply not to let Warriors distract him with something else, so at the first mention of anything that’s not the man’s own issues, he needs to start to redirect. 

Hylia above, why couldn’t those cursed goddesses have granted him even just the smallest piece of Wisdom? Charging in is the easiest part, getting through the battle with a silver-tongued soldier is the thing it seems he can’t do properly. 

Glass taps on polished wood, a heavy and familiar sigh following. Trailing his eyes towards the back corner of the room, he can easily make out the bloody and worn form of his brother, slumped against a small table and already with a hand ploughing through his ash dusted hair. Warriors looks like hell. Dark bruises beneath darker eyes, face drawn and still stained with the remains of their defeat. The usually proud appearance has been crippled, uniform torn and filthy, and blood still spattered over armor, leather, and skin. The man doesn’t so much as spare him a glace as Sky settles across from him at the table, keeping the barrier between them for both their sakes. 

“Hey.” 

A long, drawn-out sigh sounds off the wood of the worn bar table. 

Sky waits. Pressing any of his brothers is counterproductive. Sitting quietly, taking in the situation, is the best approach, letting them determine whether or not they’re ready to speak yet. He won’t push either, he just sits and rests his arms on the table, glancing the empty glass and the blessed lack of a matching bottle.  

“What d’you want, Sky?” Still not even a flick of dull eyes up towards him. “Shouldn’t you be with the rest?” 

He shrugs, stiff, as though he’s not being eaten up a bit with guilt at leaving them. The other adults can keep an eye on things though, and Wind was already doing a marvelous job of talking them out of their heads. It’s up to him to handle the captain though, as the sailor may or not have even been allowed inside the bar. The kid shouldn’t be here anyway, for the captain’s sake and his own.  

“I didn’t feel right about letting you go off alone.” 

“The kids need you right now.” 

“They need you too,” he challenges, leaning a bit closer and trying to catch the turned away eyes of the other. “And I think you’d do yourself some good to be around them.” 

A twitch of the fine-featured face before him is his only answer as sooty fingers toy with the empty glass between them. It’s lifted briefly, before the other man seems to check himself and realize it’s empty. 

 Sky needs to prevent it getting refilled. Hopefully, he can drag the captain’s ass out of here and back to their brothers before then. The key is just getting through to him, and though it feels like ages since he’d looked at the other man and found only unreadable smiles and perfection, there’s still a barrier that stops him really understanding what the captain might be thinking. Goddesses above, how is it that even Legend is easier to read than this man? 

“Wars, you’re worrying me.” He tries. Slowly, softly enough that no other patrons in the place will hear him, but it seems the captain doesn’t hear it either. 

No, the man just taps his glass against the table-top, distracted, and sigh so heavy he seems to shudder. “Go back, chosen.” 

“No, captain.” 

In battle, maybe blue eyes hold the flames of the goddesses themselves, but in the dim light of the bar, there’s only a dullness and flickering darkness that makes him want to shift and draw away. He doesn’t though, doesn’t dare. Instead, he sits under that stare for the brief second it's spared, and then the soldier is shutting his eyes with yet another heavy sigh. “Rest, you need it.” 

“I can’t.” You’re here, he wants to add. You’re out here and you’re worrying me, and I can’t sleep easy until I know we’re all safe. 

Fine features twitch, shifting into a frown that would be very terrifying indeed if Sky hadn’t gotten used to all the harsh looks of his team over the last while. Time’s dark looks and Warriors’ disapproval aren’t nearly as weighty all things considered, and he carefully doesn’t respond when the other looks up at him again, brows drawn low and tightly together, jaw twitching slightly. “Sky-” 

“Link,” he returns, sharp to match the look he shoots at the other. Their given name slips strangely off his tongue and earns a twitch of the brows in answer. “No. I’m not letting you sit alone a stew.” 

“Even if I want to?” The glass taps loudly against the table, a sharp contrast to their low voices. “Does that matter at all?” 

Okay, that’s just a bomb-burr waiting for him to walk too close. “Link, please,” and the use of their shared name seems to have fingers closing tighter over the mouth of the whiskey glass, “we both know what will happen if I leave.”  

His words are proved by the lack of verbal answer, instead the tapping of the glass back onto the table as dark eyes meet his. They’re blank again, impossible to read past that closed off, stern expression. It's not one he’s used to facing much these days, but he’s seen it turned on the younger ones plenty of times. 

“I leave,” he presses, “and you’ll drink.” 

There’s the faintest tightening again around the glass still clutched in sooty hands. “It could be worse.” 

“You’re right,” he agrees, nodding slowly, “it could. I could keep ignoring it and you’ll keep getting worse.” He steels his own jaw, folding his hands if only for something to do with them before he meets the stare now fixed, heavy and harsh, on his face. “When we all met, you hardly touched the stuff save maybe after a bad battle, and I mean a really bad one.” The same as Time here and there. The same as any man likely might. A really bad day is fair enough excuse for one drink, but Warriors used to stop at one, and now he doesn’t. “Now it seems every time our backs are turned...” he motions to the glass, watches as blue eyes dart down to follow his gaze. 

The captain’s hands aren’t shaking like they normally do. They’re perfectly still as he clutches hold of the empty cup.  

He doesn’t like it. The tremor is normal, it is a sure sign of ease. He knows the after effects of their last battle, the magic in it, the illusions cast around them of the worst they’ve seen, worst they’d imagined, used as a distraction shook all of them, but seeing the man still so tightly wound, still so caught up in his head that his body is still responding as though he’s in immediate danger, it doesn’t sit well with him. 

“Come back to the inn,” he begs. “We all-” 

The sudden shriek of the chair as the soldier stands might be what cuts him off, the cold look in closed off eyes definitely is though. “I don’t know what that demon showed you, chosen, but know this: you can fight gods and you can win, but some of us have fought men and believe it or not, there’s something quite different and more terrible about that.” It’s the clipped soldier’s voice that speaks to him, resounding enough in the bar that everyone else present has fallen silent and tense, looking up from their own conversations to stare. “So go back to the inn, get over what you saw, and let me do the same here so we can face the demon again in the morning.” 

“Wars-” 

The other turns, heading back to the bar and no doubt with full intent to refill the glass he holds. 

Sky darts after him. “Please, Link! This isn’t good for you!” 

“Well, it isn’t exactly hurting you now, is it?” Is the sharp answer as barkeep approaches the two of them, wary. 

 For a moment, Sky debates between telling the barkeep to not serve his brother and telling the captain to just walk away. Caught betwixt, he misses the opportunity for both, too distracted, too unfocused, to slow, and when his brother motions for the bottle in the hands of the barkeep, it’s only then that he gets his wits about him enough to catch hold of the thing himself. 

The barkeep darts away, no doubt eager to avoid the mess as snapping eyes fix on storm cloud blue as Sky’s voice rumbles low like thunder between them. “You doing this hurts everyone that loves you. We can’t stand to just sit back and watch anymore.” 

“Well no one asked you to watch,” the captain bites, “or care.” 

“But we do,” he answers back, trying desperately to catch those eyes again, “we chose to be your brothers, and thus we chose to stad beside you.” 

“Then don’t blame me when your choices get you hurt.” The hand he’s set on the bottle is knocked away as, once more, Warriors turns his back on him and heads back to his table.  

He’s not sure if he should chase or walk away or give up. He’s left standing for a moment before darting after, again, unable to stop the other as a finger of amber is poured and knocked back without so much as a flinch. Well, not a flinch from Warriors, he finds himself recoiling just the slightest bit as he watches. 

 He tries again, this time not daring to push further by touching the forbidden poison, but instead trying to break through and get the other to just look at him. “Link, please, you’re killing yourself like this.” 

Dark eyes are empty, lifeless, as they turn upwards to look at him, like visions of the sealing grounds were once, thousands of years ago; barren and ruined by battle and death. “Good.” 

And then it’s gone, another glass knocked back and Sky left standing, only able to watch. 

What else is there to be said? What argument is left to beg, to plead, to convince? He’s the hero, he’s good with his hands, his blade, his strength. He sees foes and he crushes them. He sees allies and he aids them. But when an ally embraces the foe, what then? What’s left for him to do? What course of action is there left save to beg? And when even that fails there is nothing. 

Nothing but watching, unable to go back without fulfilling his mission and unwilling to let his brother be left alone in the weakened state the quickly emptying bottle will leave him in. All he can do is watch as golden poison flows, as sooty, bloodied, burned hands lift and toss back, as glass clacks against the tabletop again only to be refilled once more. There's nothing else he can do or say. There may be other arguments, but they’re lost to him, buried instead under that horrible stare and the cracked and shattered soul that had glinted through on that single, devastating ‘good’. 

It’s not the first defeat he’s faced today, but between the two, this is the one that leaves him truly helpless in it’s wake. 

[evilgwrl]

Neighbour!Simon Riley x Reader

Girl Next Door (Three)

CW: Someone breaks into your garden but nothing violent occurs (beside Simon having a gun), u share a bed (nothing happens yet sorry...), simon also has very perverted thoughts about you and wants to act on them very badly!!!!

Previous Chapter, Next Chapter

Note: sorry I haven’t been posting as much I’ve been out 24/7!!!!! I will make up for it 🥲 sorry if this is bad

Your fingers coiled into a tight fist, ramming against the door with obscene force. You weren’t even 100% sure what time it was, or if he would answer but you were desperate and scared. Simon’s eyes jolted open at the disturbance, groaning in annoyance as he rolled out of bed. His body was clad with loose checkered sleep shorts, his hip bones peeking out as he etched towards the noise.

Beady pools of brown leaned into the peephole, the sight of you nearly sending him into anaphylactic shock as he took in your appearance. Your cleavage was plush against the silken material, nipples pearling under the twilight. His cock chubbed as he took you in briefly before he opened the door, your eyes wide with… fear?

“Simon, I’m so sorry, I’m-“ You stammered over your words, rushing frantically back and forth as you rubbed your arms anxiously, your hair raised with the static of consternation.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” His tone was curt, almost confused as he took in your frantic state. What on earth could you need him for at this time of night?

“There’s someone in my backyard.”

Simon looked at you briefly, taking in what you said before reacting, pushing you inside as you stumbled to the couch. He moved with urgency, grabbing you by the arm and leading you to his bedroom as he ordered you to stay put, digging around in his nightstand before feverish hands wrapped around carbon steel, the all too familiar feel of a gun sending his body into over-drive as he slammed his door shut.

You panted, your heart exceeding against the walls of your rib cage, creasing through every crevice as your throat wound up, not only at the intruder but how it was almost second nature for Simon to protect you, to kill for you if needed. Were guns even legal here?

Your back was flush against his singular pillow, your thighs nestled together before a small gasp left your lip. You weren’t even wearing panties. Jesus Christ. You were in your hot neighbour’s house, in his bed, panty-less. You almost laughed at how cliché it was, and if the timing had been better, maybe you wouldn’t feel so uncomfortable by it, but you were scared.

What if the man next door was a serial killer and he took out Simon and was coming for you next? What if he was out to get you? What if the police don’t come in time and he gets away? Simon wouldn’t let that happen, you thought to yourself. Who were you kidding? You barely knew Simon.

Your hands pooled with sweat as you rubbed them together, your head now caged in by his pillow. The silence was perpetual, almost suffocating, the hairs in your ear tickling your nerves as you closed your eyes, praying for the sound of sirens or even yelling.

You felt like you had been here for hours, your muscles locked up, spine tense with perturbation, nails drawing blood at the flesh of your exposed thigh, the light patter of hair standing up straight as you listened to the sound of your breathing, the agitation and struggle behind it.

It was soft but you heard it — the normally dreadful sound of sirens, etching closer and closer by the second as your taughtened limbs relaxed slightly, the sound of Simon’s voice calling out to you, almost as if he was permitting you to move. Your bare feet padded against the floor; your arms self-unconsciously wrapped around your chest as you were greeted by bright, blaring lights.

You watched as a man was handcuffed, his skin a deep olive, arms littered with tattoos and a deep scar that ran from his wrist to elbow. His eyes were almost violent, a putrid green staring into your soul, almost swallowed whole by his pupils. You felt chills as he turned to face you, pointy canines lashing out of his thin lips, the stained colour glistening with spit as his voice sounded out to you, “I’m sorry Ma’am, got the wrong house, you see. Didn’t mean you any harm.”

He was ushered into the back of the cop car, your throat parched as your eyes narrowed in on the intruder, your breathing still shallowed as you felt a cold hand placed on your shoulder. Your body reacted, skin crawling with fear as you turned to look at Simon. You took in his face, the tone of pink that flushed his lips, the blonde lashes that concealed his bistre eyes, the slight imperfections in his skin that made him more masculine.

You read his lips, your ears ringing with a deafening tone as you grounded yourself.

“Y’ alright?”

“I- Uh, I guess. I don’t know. It was scary, I was- caught up in something and I looked out the window and just saw a figure. I’m sorry for d-“

“Don’t apologise. I’m glad you came to me, I’m sorry if I scared you.. with the gun and all. I, uh, work in the military so it’s kind of second nature to me.”

You were right. He did work in the military. You smiled, almost too softly, the crease of your cheeks barely evident but he noticed it. His eyes milked in how nervous you looked, how frightened your body stood and how thankful you were that he was able to help you. Simon didn’t join the military to protect neighbours, even the pretty ones, but he was sure glad it gave him the ability to do so.

The night dragged on, a female cop with rugged eyes grabbing a statement from you before they finally deemed it okay to go, patrolling the man off for further questioning. You felt almost relieved. You should feel better now. It was over and you were safe but the reaction your body felt towards the man wasn’t normal, the way your skin crawled, almost as if infested internally, bugs burrowing between your veins.

Simon’s voice cut your thoughts off again, his hand on the small of your back as your eyes connected. He could read the fear in them, the way your irises dilated, and your lashes burrowed into slick eyelids.

“Y’ gonna be alright tonight?” He asked, his body standing tall as he looked down on you. He felt like shrinking, his spine folding so he could feel less intimidating, to seem more caring, compassionate even.

Your tongue stilled, tying a knot in your mouth as you stuttered over the pools of spit that coiled between your teeth. “I think so.” Your tone was hesitant, your legs shaking against the porch as you rubbed your arms with both hands.

“Do you- Do you wanna sleep at mine tonight? I’ll take the couch.”

Your eyes met Simon’s, lapping in the sincerity that rattled between each syllable he spoke. “Oh no! I couldn’t possibly put you off anymore, I don’t want to cause any more disturbance, you’ve done enough.”

“I promise it’s no effort, it would make me feel better anyway if I thought you were more comfortable here.”

“Are you sure?” Your voice was small as you shuffled nervously. Surprisingly, he smiled, pushing his front door open further as you huddled in. You took in the atmosphere once more, noting how clean it was, how untouched. He set up his room for you, offering you another blanket to which you politely declined, your body felt like molten lava, pure heat scorching through your skin as you settled onto the mattress. You watched the way his body contracted, finally being able to admire the way his muscles flexed, arms stained with a plethora of drawn ink. His back was rough, detailed with a litter of scars, supported by his burly physique.

“Simon,” you called out as he began to shut the door. His eyebrow perked. “I feel bad about you sleeping on the couch. I- I don’t mind sharing, I don’t want to be weird, I just feel like I’m taking away your bed.”

“Just want you to be comfortable, love, that’s all.”

You patted the sheets next to you, offering him a smile, the light rosiness of your cheeks visible in the soft shimmer of the moonlight. Your body curled to the side, your back to him as you whispered a soft ‘good night’. It was strange. You had shared a bed with previous partners, but it never felt like this. Maybe it was the taboo of it all, your body heat melting into the sheets of your neighbour who you had only properly met yesterday.

Your thighs knocked together, settling at the edge of the bed as you shut your eyes, lashes flickering open occasionally when you were greeted with the eerie sight of the man who broke into your backyard.

Simon struggled to sleep too, his cock throbbing as he faced you. He took in the way your hair fell softly against the apple of your cheek, and the way your eyes would open on occasion which he assumed was due to nerves. He took in the way your nightgown had ridden up the back of your thighs, your legs coiled together in an attempt to not break his personal space.

He almost felt like flushing up against you, letting you feel the ache of his member, the way his tip leaked with pearly pre-cum, staining his sleep shorts. His fingers nearly reached out, pulling your legs apart to rock his tongue into your bare cunt, fucking your entrance with vigour as you soaked his muscle with your slick. He wanted to split you open on his cock, let his length stain your walls with every vein that flushed his shaft, spilling his hot seed into your womb as you begged him for more.

But he didn’t. He just turned around.

[mcytblrconfessions]

YOU know Martyn itlw from the life series, pirates smp, or even evo. *I* know Martyn itlw from little vs cubed, tomodachi life, and zelda twilight princess. We are not the same. (I'm being silly both are valid i just get freaked out sometimes that I've watched this man literally since i was in the singular digits and now I'm coming up to 20 years old. Also his tomodachi life lets play is over 9 years old. what??? that series happened 4 years ago at most surely)

‎

[foxintheferns]

Wild Heart - Chapter Seven

A Twilight - Paul Lahote Fanfiction

🔙Previous Chapter

PAUL LAHOTE’S POV:

Blood pumps loudly behind my ears, my heart heaves painfully. I wanted it to stop. I needed it all to stop. Heavy paws pound against the ground beneath me, I can feel my body moving but I barely register how.

I have no idea where I’m headed.

Away.

Her face. It keeps repeating in my brain, images of the side of her face as her head fell back in a laugh at something Jacob had said, what had been so funny? A pang of pain rings through me sharply. A tortured sound of agony escapes from my mouth and I violently shake my head back and forth mid stride, an attempt to physically rid myself of the repulsive feeling.

Her soft eyes had been closed. Flashes of memory, of her dark lashes and long, soaking hair that waved down around her head like a wild, wet halo. Her nose, her cheeks, her chin. Her skin looked soft, her smell was filling my senses from across the cliff, salty water atop of sweet skin and a scent that was impossibly and utterly beautiful to me, repulsively addictive.

She’d looked at me.

Her eyes. Green and stormy; they’d ripped me apart. The moment she’d looked at me, I couldn’t even feel anymore.

Couldn’t fucking think.

I can’t.

I can’t feel like that. I felt myself pooling, a puddle of a man. I’d wanted to feel her, to let her in.

In to see me. To see everything.

I can’t.

I know what this is. I know the word for it, I know how Sam feels it for Emily. I know how Jared feels it for Kim.

But I can’t. I’m not meant to. Not me.

Why did she have to come here? Who is she? Why do I feel her everywhere, why is my body aching, screaming, the further I go, the more distance I put between her and I?

Sudden images of my mother, gentle and kind, flicker through my vision, in between the flashes of her. The softness I’d felt for her opened up a writhing, dark pit within me that I’d forced closed years ago.

My mother.

And my father.

A growl rips through my chest, my paws stretching even further out in front of me in each powerful stride, claws digging fiercely through the soft earth as I pull myself forward, whipping through trees and branches. Rage rips through me with a ferocity I can’t understand, an anger that brings red across my vision. The growl in my throat tears through me, tugs at me until it’s forced out in a long, wretched howl. My legs don’t stop moving, my muscles don’t stop pushing.

I hate this. I hate me.

I hate her.

I refuse to feel it. I won’t.

I can’t.

Sam’s voice breaks through my clouded head, a quiet echo compared to the fierce screaming of my own thoughts.

Paul! Paul, come back! We can help you, she-

I fight him, pushing him away, pushing harder into my stride. Images of her flood my vision again as his thoughts bring forth his own new memories of her as well, images of her gentle face as she had looked up at Sam in confusion after I’d left. Another howl, this one filled with a snarling cry, rips from within me. I slam him away from me, his own thoughts a betrayal to me, to the intention I have of getting away. I manage to clear my head for only a singular moment. Only a moment, and only to convey one clear, simple truth to my Alpha.

I can’t.

A/N: Next chapter in the works! Will be up this week 🥰

Taglist: @carrrieeexu @living-that-best-life @hotheadwolf @avis15 @gugi7171773 @neo-grey @bbywonu @wilmasvensson @lostwandererkat @littlep2014 @cyuuttee @itsthesamegen @a-moonchilds-life @Elleirbag50 @Foxmp

[ppeasants]

Hi. I saw you mention something about a villain Wind au and I was hoping that you would share something. Have a nice day

Hi! Thanks for sending in the ask, I'd love to share more! Keep in mind this might be a bit rambly, since this is the first time I've taken these ideas out of my head and put them into writing.

I think the one of the biggest things about this AU is that Wind did not start as a villain. He turned into one throughout The Chain's adventure. He chose to leave his path as a hero, leave his brothers, and become a villain. This adds a lot of connections to the other heroes and a lot more angst, which is why it's so fun.

What is my villain wind even like? I think he's a lot angrier than normal Wind. He channels his usual range of emotions into just one: rage, and his single minded goal. He's a lot more prone to angry outbursts at those around him. He's not afraid to be underhanded, his time as a pirate serving him well, using dirty tactics in fights and easily manipulating others in speech using his childlike face and by easily reading others and learning what makes them tick.

His fighting skills, aside from his already existing speed, get augmented from the skills he learns from the others. His wind magic gets a huge boost, as well as his general magic pool, allowing him to use to as an offensive tool, defensive shield, and overall speed increase, as he zips around (nearly flies) in fights. He also gets back his time stop magic in the Phantom Hourglass (but how he gets it back is another story [he kills Oshus])

So what turned Wind into a villain? There was no one singular event, but a lot of moments which slowly swayed Wind from his path of being a hero.

*cw character death*

In my head, the catalyst for everything is Wind's grandmother dying. He's distraught by it, but after a short funeral, he's basically forced to continue his journey, forced to stay stong, because he's a hero. But being a hero, going on his journey, is what made his grandma sick, is what killed her to being with. He starts to resent being a hero.

*cw end*

Other moments include when Wind learns about Vaati, showing interest in his wind magic, but being told that Vaati is evil. Is wind magic evil? Is he? Another moment is when he says some words of sympathy for his Ganondorf, a man trying to bring back Hyrule. They others tell him Ganondorf is always evil, but Wind just can't get himself to believe it (its an hc of mine that Wind feels sympathy for Ganondorf). There's the idea that he came from a world which shouldn't exist, with no hero (even though he's there), and the ghost of a true timeline in Twilight right in front of him. And, there's the fact that Wind wasn't a chosen hero. He forged his spirit, and the sword, but the Triforce was never really his; he isn't a true hero of courage.

All of these ideas slowly pile up, and Wind gets more and more resentful of himself, of heroes, and of Hylia. It doesn;t help that Wind tries to contact Vaati, and succeeds, and is slowly learning more wind magic from him. From his contact with Vaati, he meets up with the other villains in secret. As they support (manipulate) him, and The Chain gets further and further away from his own ideals, he wants to make one last decision - but he needs to talk to one more person about it.

This all culminates, eventually, into a moment where Wind and Tetra meet up, and they talk. Wind tells her all of the doubts he has, and he says that he thinks he hates Hylia. I haven't fleshed out exactly how their conversation goes, but in the end, they have a big fight, and Wind leaves the Great Sea, hurt, with Tetra no longer on his side and with his mind made up.

The next time they sleep, Wind leaves the group for the villains, and when they wake up, they can't find him, and his gossip stone isn't responding to the slate. Wind is now a villain.

But what is even Wind's goal as a villain? He wants to kill Hylia. Believing her to be the reason that his grandmother was killed, that his world was flooded, that all heroes have to suffer, that Tetra has to be someone she's not, he wants to kill her. In his anger, rage, and single-mindedness, he will stop at nothing to kill her. If his brothers get in his way, he will kill them. The only weak spot he has is his home, the Great Sea. He will never hurt his world, his people.

As a villain, he joins a new group, consisting of Dark Link, Ganondorf (undecided which one), The Lizard, and Vaati. he also has different relationships to the other heroes as they learn he's a villain, ranging from Wind's hatred of them, their hatred of Wind, regret at his turning, and even sympathy and a potential turning of another hero, which Wind is ready to use to his advantage.

In my head, I have many, many, many scenes of this AU, at various points in time, so if anyone has anymore questions about this AU, the relationships between the other heroes, or villains, or other specific scenes, please ask! I'd love to talk more and more about it!

[visualtaehyun]

Hiiiii. Popping in to ask a Thai language question, if you don't mind? A friend linked me to a TikTok clip discussing NuNew commenting on Twitter about Zee dancing at Zee's fanmeet and NuNew called Zee "Khun." The tiktok said that khun is used as an honorific between a married couple, but I had come to understand that it was more formal? Could you tell me if that TikTok was right? And if there's a language nuance I wasn't aware of?

I know I'm usually the first person to lose my shit over pronouns 😂 but personally, I don't find New calling P'Zee 'khun' in a singular tweet that big a deal. But I do understand zonzons' urge to go 🤭 too lol

I'll try to explain though since this is my favorite way to learn! Fandom shenanigans turned language acquisition! :D

My usual disclaimer applies: not a native Thai speaker, still learning 🙏

Let's first pull up New's tweet + P'Kate's translation (thank you again for pointing me to her translation <3)

So. Yes, คุณ /khun/ is a formal polite pronoun. But as with all things Thai language, nuance and context are key.

From what I've read and seen Thai individuals say about it is that their parents or grandparents often use คุณ /khun/ (either or both of them). Like this zonzon says in another quote tweet:

"Calling [him] khun, exactly like my mom calls my dad, kha"

Since I always like to recommend and refer back to @recentadultburnout 's series on Thai language and culture- in this one, Radish also gives a personal example like the one above for the use of คุณ /khun/ between couples, outside of its usage in formal settings:

Personally, I can mostly only speak from what I hear on Thai series where using คุณ /khun/ in general gives me a grownup or mature vibe (outside of workplace or formal settings!). Since the bulk of QLs is set in high school or college, you'll mostly hear คุณ /khun/ used between parent characters - if they're not calling each other พ่อ /por/ = dad and แม่ /mae/ = mom

Here's the most recent example that comes to mind, from Pluto ep.3:

พอได้แล้วค่ะคุณ /phaaw dai laaeo kha, khun/ -> May's mother calls her husband คุณ /khun/, in the same scene he calls her back เธอ /ter/ which is an informal 2nd pers. pronoun that's also often used between lovers

The more series we're getting that have adult main characters, the more I hear our main couples using คุณ /khun/, too! Most recently, ผม/คุณ /pom, khun/ (=I/you) are also the pronouns of choice between Kant and Bison in The Heart Killers trailer as well as ฉัน/คุณ /chan, khun/ (=I/you) between Tul and Dr. Cheran in the Petrichor trailer. There's no saying though if either of these couples (any couple for that matter!) will keep using these pronouns, because they've been using them from the get-go when they only got to know each other, or if they'll switch to something else entirely. I guess novel readers would know already :D

I guess the main reasons why I'm not screaming about New's tweet is that 1) twitter is more like a space to play in with fans and language is one way to do so which is why I never put too much stock in it if there's no 'repeat behavior', so to say lol, in how they use specific words.

And 2) calling your partner คุณ /khun/ seems to me to mostly be a thing people do when they already got to know each other using these pronouns. Then again- Huge throwback for me lol but formal polite pronouns ผม/คุณ /pom, khun/ (=I/you) are what Kawi and Pisaeng switched to at some point in Be My Favorite, after having used rude casual pronouns กู/มึง /guu, meung/ (=I/you) for the longest time. And I do remember having the exact same reaction as zonzons did to New's tweet when Night suddenly used ผม/คุณ /pom, khun/ (=I/you) with Porjai in Last Twilight 🤣

All that to say: Yes, คุณ /khun/ is a formal polite pronoun. But it also gets used between lovers! I hope my many examples shed at least some light on its usage 🙏

For more info on pronoun and pet name usage, I recommend another one of @recentadultburnout's posts: