#well we hugged some folks and learned some lessons

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Static

This is a drabble I have been planning for a while and I finally know how I want to write it :3

Are you ready?

First Drabble here (with original prompt by @spotaus ) Prev Drabble here Next Drabble here

You see.... there was still something that hadden been addressed :3 Something about how Dust was dealing with the pressure and looks and backstory he has to follow :3

No beta and no edit. (also it is a big boy woops)

Timeline is that Nightmare was deaged like 4 months ago. One month in farmtale

*---------------*

Cross isn't sure how to deal with the tension in the air.

The bickering between Killer and Dust isn't making it any better.

Okay, Cross has got to be honest. It is much as much bickering as it is Killer being annoying and Dust trying to ignore him.

It had started this morning wiht Dust being more anti-social than usual. Easy to note by the fact that he had darkened the inside of his hoody.

Dust hadn't said a single word the whole day even as he went through the motions perfectly.

Cross is enver sure how to help in these moments. The moments which Horror once explained where most likely the times when the maybe ghost maybe hallucination of Dust's brother were extra loud.

Cross isn't even sure what that situation is. He asked everyone but Dust about it and no one really knows for sure if the Papyrus haunting Dust is actually a ghost. Or if it is a hallucination made of his own guilt. From what Cross heard from the others Dust isn't sure either.

The fact remains. They had tried to help in the ways they usually do. Cross tried to stay near in case he wanted something but mostly kept quiet. Cross tried to be a quiet reminder that Dust isn't alone and isn't whereever he was before.

Horror makes Dust's favourites and gently bullies him into eating and taking care of himself.

Killer tries to distract him.

Killer's tactis either goes very well or very wrong. At least Cross has been told that.

Cross has seen the two fight obviously but as soon as one manages to down the other the fight ends. The winner will be smug in their own way, Killer by loudly proclaiming victory while Dust will just have this smug little smile on his face.

The first time they just tackled one another to fight Cross had been worried. But after getting Horror and asking him what to do he had reassured Cross that this was just something the two did. For Dust it helps unload some of his large magic levels and overcharge and for Killer... welll Horror isn't sure about Killer, he assumes Killer just likes fighting or the attention with fighting.

Cross watches as Killer hangs all over Dust and yaps away about something. Cross can see that the fork Dust is holding is slowly but surely starting to curve under the pressure of Dust's phalanges.

Cross can see that Crop is a lot more nervous as he looks between the two worried before looking at Horror. Horror shrugs at the unspoken question.

Cross turns to check on Nightmare and sees him looking at the two with a frown. Cross grins and nudges him "No need to frown. Just them being silly again." he smiles.

Nightmare looks at him before looking back at the two. The frown not leaving "no... it isn't."

Cross is immediantly more worried, and he already was worried! He studies the two and notices that Dust is breathing very shallowly. Cross looks at Horror and signs it quickly to him.

Horror has a look of alarm on his face before slowly, and very carefully, inching closer "Come on Killer. That is enough. Not in the kitchen."

Killer grins cheerfully, completely unaware of the ticking timebomb he is hanging over "oooooh! here comes your knight in shining armour Dusty!"

Dust's fist twitches and Cross can see the fork fold over completely. Oh no.

Killer continues on as he leans on the other "Princess Dusty, getting saved and needing protection-"

And Killer flies over the table right into the stone wall, leaving large cracks on it. Dust follows two seconds after and punches him straight on the face.

Horror gets to Dust and tries to pull him off only to be turned blue and pushed away. Horror manages to fight the force but is still pushed away.

Cross doesn't think as he grabs Nightmare and backs up against the wall on the other side of the room. Even as Nightmare makes an unhappy noise and reaches for Dust. Nope! Not save right now!

Dust stands there panting heavily as mana and magic crack like electricity over him. Fuck. He is overcharged with magic. Fuck they are idiots to not realise that was going to happen soon. Fuck fuck fuck.

Horror somehow still looks calm even with the two different coloured eye lights staring straight at him from under the dark hood. "It is okay... we just ened to go out and-"

Dust huffs "Don't fucking bother." he sounds furious. He glances around the room and looks into Cross's direction for a moment. Dust looks away with a flinch and he is out of the room.

The front door slams shut.

Horror is by Killer as he helps him up. Killer groans as he rubs his skull "okay... maybe i was pushing it... again."

Horror gives him a 'no shit' look before checking his wounds.

Cross glances at Crop who had backed out of the kitchen and now inches back in "is everyone okay? what... waht was that?!" he waves at the front door.

Horror sighs as he rubs his skull "Overcharge... Dust has a lot of LV, EXP, magic and mana. Even with his buffed stats it gets a lot and he needs to release the steam or well... it goes off." he glances around "Sorry for your kitchen..."

Crop nods as he looks at the frontdoor "is it... safe for him?"

Horror nods as he looks into the same direction "It is... just dumb i forgot he would need to discharge...." he sighs.

Killer groans as he gets up "We all forgot. We have been busy and well... I think Dusty forgot as well."

A tug on his sleeve and Cross looks down at Nightmare. Nightmare just looks at him "Can I go to Dust?"

Cross feels panicked "no?! Just let him discharge Nightmare. You know he will be fine."

Nightmare shakes his skull as he looks at the frontdoor "It seemed different... I can't explain." a frown on his face of frustration.

Cross frowns as he looks at Horror and Killer. They share looks before moving towards the front door.

A loud boom of thunder and they open it to stare.

A large vortext of pure black clouds with purple lightning. SLowly but surely swirling to somewhere above the fields.

Crop whistles "Well then... I never saw that much magic before." he frowns and points "That normal?"

Cross follows the direction as he sees small zaps and static all in the air, all that same purple colour.

Killer shakes his skull "No that isn't normal... fuck I need to apologise..." he rubs his skull before quickly looking at Nightmare "don't repeat that." Nightmare shoots him an annoyed look.

Killer grins back before walking towards the stairs of the porch with purpose. only to get zapped as soon as he gets off the wood. Killer yelps and rushes back to stand behind Horror. glaring at the air "Rude! What the hell Dusty!"

horror frowns at him "hurt?"

Killer shakes his skull "More like a tiny zap when you are like static and stuff." he frowns and looks at the air "Though i don't know how that will be once that gets worse..."

Cross frowns as he follows Killer's sight. Cross can admit he is also worried. if this gets much worse it can spell very bad news.. not to forget that it has never been this bad before... Is this just what happened if they don't help him remember to discharge in time? Is Dust even okay with this much pressure and magic going on?

Cross frowns as he hands Nightmare to Horror "You guys stay here. Help Crop with the kitchen and keep Ngihtmare safe." just in case.

Ngihtmare glares as he is put down "I am safe!"

Cross nods and stares at Killer and Horror "I am going to go to help and try to get him to calm down and discharge safely." a spar usually works best.

Horror frowns as he shakes his skull "I will just come back if it goes wrong."

Cross shoots him a look "I got better stats and have the endurance to keep dodging to get through the worst. Killer has a straight up bullseye by his sternum and he annoyed Dust already. YOu may come back but do you really want to do that to Dust?" Horror frowns but nods his agreement. Cross nods himself "just keep an eye on Nightmare and-"

"See? Perfectly safe."

They all turn only to stare. Becuase Nightmare is just standing off of the porch. in the middle of the static. But nothing happens. the static follows along his body but never zaps him. Nightmare looks unamused "I will go to dusty and fix this."

Cross shakes his skull as he gets off the porch. Fuck the zapping is almost constant. He gets ot Nightmare and picking him up gives him a much much much larger and slightly painful zap. Cross breaths through it "No. You are going to stay here and wait. This is our mess so we will fix it ourselves." he nuzzles the small skull "We got this."

Nightmare looks unhappy to doesn't fight being handing back to Horror, Horror flinches at the zap but takes it in stride.

Cross nods to the others and goes into the direction of the large vortex of clouds.

The zapping is honestly just annoying. It helps that Cross can see none of his HP dropping even as he gets closer and closer.

He ends up finding Dust in the wheat field, well in a circle of completely vaporized wheat. the current and magic having turned the plants and part of the ground into ash. Dust just stands there. muttering as crackles of lighting go all along his body.

Cross gulps before stealing himself "Hey Dust!"

Dust freezes. Okay! Good news! Dust can still hear him! not too far gone!

Cross smiles and feels a bit braver "sorry we didn't realise... want to spar? Blow off a bit of steam?"

Dust tilts his skull but nothing. okay wait! Cross knows what this means!

Cross speaks louder "don't listen to whatever he says!" Dust doesn't react. Cross takes a step closer "please. whatever he says it isn't true or real oaky? Or at least not the full truth and-"

Dust chuckles and stares at him "What? Think i ened fucking protection from him?"

Cross blinks and opens and clsoes his mouth. Not sure what to say "I... euh... maybe?" is this a trick question?

Dust looks displeased by his answer. That is fair Cross couldn't commit to either answer. Dust huffs "Don't fucking bother. I am fine."

Cross frowns and feels braver again. No time for self doubt. Dust needs his help. Cross steps clsoer "You aren't fine."

Dust glares back at him "I am fine!" crackles and the ring of vaporized wheat grows bigger. Oh man Cross hopes Crop won't lose too much money thanks to that.

Cross gulps but keeps going closer "It is okay Dust... If it hurts i can heal you!" his healing is weak but he can still heal! "We just need to get you to use some magic and-"

Dust snaps "You want to see fucking magic!" and it crackles loudly as a snap of lightning crashed just by Dust's feet. Cross yelps and feels afraid it did damage but Dust seems fine even as the energy from the lightning travels through the ground. A loud whine of magic nad Cross sees an overgrown blaster right by Dust's shoulder.

Dust hisses "leave. me. alone."

The blaster blasts and Cross dodges. After the dodge Cross actually feels reassured.

You see?

If Dust wants to hit you. He will hit you. The fact he gave Cross enough time to get ready to dodge and didn't change the direction of the beam to still hit him gives Cross hope.

Cross glares back "I am not leaving." not again. He is not giving up on them again.

Dust glares as more blasters appear "You think I won't do it?! You think I am fucking weak?!"

...Weak?

Cross blinks "No? You are like one of the strongest mosnters I know..." Cross has seen Dust fight Ink 1v1 and win. Dust weak? Why would he ever think that? Who would ever think that?

Dust laughs and more crackles in the air as the static grows. Dust's face becomes visible and he smiles sharply at him "That is quite a different answer than you gave before!"

before? When?! Cross never said Dust was weak!

Cross doesn't really have a chance to dodge. Because even if Dust gives him time to see the attacks coming Cross sitll has to dodge them himself.

Dust growls as he charges more attacks "Helpless? Weak? Useless? come on! You can tell me! I already figured it out anyway! With the endless hovering and shadowing!" another blast.

It clicks.

They are fucking idiots!

Cross looks at him panicked "It is just an backstory!" Dust had said no. They still pushed and he had been unhappy wiht it.

They thought it was fine.

But then again. It isn't Cross who has to deal with it with every interaction he has...

Shit. They are assholes.

Cross barely dodges another blast and Dust frowns a tiny bit. He pulls his arm a bit back and a few blasters hold their fire "Well?! Still weak?! Still useless!?"

Cross needs to do something.

And well, the answer is obvious.

Cross gets ready for his sprint. He needs all the speed he can get. Dust sees him hold his own run and rolls his eye lights before shooting at him with a sneer on his face.

Cross runs straight at Dust, straight at the blast. Dust's sockets and eye lights widen and he has to pull hard at his own magic. the air crackles angerly as the blast changes directions just before it hits Cross.

Cross gets right up into Dust's personal space and locks his arms around the other.

Dust snarls and tries to free himself but Cross has more physical strenght than he has and Cross has a good hold on him with locking his arms to his side.

Dust screams and wiggles "Let me go!"

Cross shakes his skull and pushes close to the other "No. I am not letting go of you." not of you. not of nightmare. not of the others. No. He isn't letting go.

Struggling and more screaming. Blasters going off but without his arms he can't aim them right. Dust goes as far as trying to kick, scratch and even bite him but Cross just keeps holding on. Refusing to give up or give in.

The storm around them calms slowly and eventually Dust goes lax in his arms. still some uneasy crackles far above them but the vortex disappeared and the clouds turned more of a dark grey colour.

It starts to rain and this is when Cross thinks it would be safe to let him go. Not that he does. Cross keeps holding on.

Dust isjust lax in his hold. Not saying a word and Cross doens't even know how to say what he wants to say. That he is sorry for pushing. For not helping Dust think of a new plan. So being so okay with Dust having had to carry most of the burding concerning their back story. and later more responsiblity about money. and before that even with taking care of nightmare. All wihtout Cross even trying to help him.

Cross had just... liked the idea of the backstory. That Dust came to them for help, that Cross had a bit of the savior role in the story... Just like he had enjoyed the idea of some people thinking he and dust had a kid together. Just like he enjoys the idea that everyone knows the four of them are an unit and won't separate... Cross is a jerk.

He still isn't sure what to say "... We can probably change the backstory still..." Instead he just talks.

Dust just sounds tired "We can't..."

Cross shakes his skull and just tightens his hold "No we totally can!" think think think "We... we... we can just be that... that i was the one with the ex! But that i hadn't been sure about a kid... and so i just left but regretted it and found out about the bad stuff..." he is just rambling "So i went back and got you guys for help but nightmare had been so young so he didn't remember me and i was still weird about being a father but you were great at it so you and nightmare bonded and so we just kinda told him it was you and... and..." Cross doesn't know. he is stuck and can't think.

Dust snorts against his shoulder "People will hate that... they won't trust us in anyway if they 'found out' we lied..."

Cross gulps and knows he is right. still... "I am sorry... I should have told killer to stuff it when he oppered."

Dust shrugs "Could have done that myself..."

They continue to sit there in the rain. Cross trying to think of some way to fix this mess.

Dust sighs "It is fine... just... stupid... got the best of me... won't happen again."

Cross feels even worse "I am sorry..."

Dust tries to pull back, probably to shoot him a look of some kind but Cross just keeps holding him tighter. No. Not letting go.

Dust sighs and gives in rather easily "I know why... it is fine..."

Cross shakes his skull "you are overworked... and we were to dumb to see."

Dust lets out an annoyed sigh again "I don't need a babysitter. I should be able to take care of myself just fine cross."

Cross feels tears appear but pusehs them back "It isn't being a babysitter you moron! It is about being friends and looking out for one another and not being a dumb idiot to forget one of your friends also needs help!"

silence.

Cross just keeps going "We shouldn't have pushed the backstory. WHen you said no we should ahve just accepted that! You were uncomfortable wiht that plan. YOu are still uncomfortable wiht it. it isn't fair that we kept pushing and you had to brun for it."

Cross feels himself start to ramble and he doesn't bother to stop it "And then the tinkering! You like that and that is great but that doesn't mean it should be a must or have the pressure of being our solo income! You are overworked and tired and need rest and i don't want to hear any comment or self hating joke about you being lazy!"

Dust huffs and mutters "kill joy" but stays quiet otherwise.

Cross keeps going as if he didn't interrupt him "You are also the one who takes charge with Nightmare and that is fine as well as long as you don't have all the pressure! It is unfair of us to just assume you will decide or have the decision or even that you thought about it! Even if you do have the answers and you did think about it it isn't fair that we put that expectation and pressure on you! We are a team and we should share the burden of stuff!"

Cross pants as he just sits there. feeling partly mortified by what he just said and partly relieved he managed to get it all out.

Dust is quiet for a long time before answering "I don't mind it..." it is hardly more than a whisper.

Cross huffs and just keeps holding it "Even if you don't mind it now clearly it is too much or we wouldn't be sitting in a circle of vaporized plants."

Dust is silent but does give a small nod against his shoulder.

Cross nods himself "When you feel okayish. we will go back to the others. you are going to get cleaned up and sleep. actually sleep. and sleep in. No more trying to get up early wiht Nightmare."

Dust mutters "I sleep in..."

Cross huffs "Yeah. until like 8 or 9 compared to the 5 and 6 of Horror and me. But I mean you need to sleep sleep Dust. Sleep in untill at least 10. Don't even think I won't get Horror or Killer to tie you down to the bed!" Dust is almost always up until late at night. he needs rest clearly.

Dust snorts and mutters "Don't let Killer hear you say that. He will have many things to say about that implication about your preferences."

Oh god no brain don't think about that mental image when Dust is stuck in your arms. You don't want to have that type of conversation now when that image does things to you!

Cross feels himself blush as he stares striaght ahead "Very funny."

Dust snorts "I know."

Cross huffs before spekaing again "Well then! You are going to sleep in and get the rest you actually need. We are no longer going to allow you to plan your days full like you did before anymore."

Dust groans "Cross we still need money."

Cross nods "and so we will figure something out eventually! But you are no longer trying to earn enough for everyone. And please for the love of everything actually buy something nice for yourself for once!" so far he had only spend money on stuff for Nightmare. or clothes for any of them. Cross appreciates the clean clothes and things but please Dust just get stuff for yourself.

Dust mutters and mumbles some stuff but nothing that Cross can really make heads or tails from "Good! Now that we agreed to that... Ready to go back?"

Dust is quiet again but sighs "Yeah.... need to apologise to Killer for attacking him... and crop for probably breaking part of his house..."

Cross nods "Yeah... Good news though Killer didn't have actual HP damage so i think even when mad you were pretty controlled over what you actually wanted, which was just Killer to shut up I guess... as for Crop's house I only saw some cracks and Horror and I can do enough construction stuff to fix that." a moment of silence "Also Killer owns you an apology for annoying you the whole day."

Dust listens before sighing "Thanks..."

They sit a moment longer before they both get up. Cross can't help his curiosity as he sticks his phalanges into the lose sand.

Dust frowns at him "What are you doing?"

Cross looks away embarresed "Heard that... if lightning strikes sand like glass is made... I am curious..." he feels something but can't pull it out. Instead he pushes more sand and dirt aside and uncovers a giant glass electric strike in the ground. he can see how the electricity move and made the glass.

Dust frowns at it "Hopefully I didn't ruin his field... Will have to dig that out and any other stuff to make sure it doesn't damage his machinery when he does farming stuff." Dust already sounds tired as he looks around his large circle were Cross cna see multiple hits of lightning hit the ground.

Cross pats his back "It is fine. Horror and I got a lot of free time so we will get to that tomorrow."

Dust looks at him before sighing and nodding "fine."

Cross nods.

The two walk back as Cross looks at the sky "It is clearing... I didn't know you could do the whole sky thing..."

Dust shrugs "never did that before."

huh. Cross keeps looking up "Think it was because you have more charge or something?"

Dust shrugs "Could be..."

Cross nods as he taps his chin "We will need to make sure you don't overcharge faster than..."

Dust is quiet but Cross feels Dust nudge his shoulder. Cross beams at him and Dust shoots him a small smile back.

They near the house and find their other three boys waiting on the porch. Dust goes straight to nightmare nad hugs him before looking at Horror and Killer for just amoment before looking down "sorry... I.... sorry."

Horror smiles bakc and nods. Killer grins himself and shrugs "Euh. It is fine. Sorry to you for once again not picking up on your social clues." he rubs his cheek which has a large bruise "No hard feelings."

Dust nods and agrees easily enough.

After apologizing to Crop for the mess in both the kitchen and field and promising to fix it they get back to their attic. They take a moment to sit together and Cross explains what the deal had been about. Mostly because dust had retreated to hoody-city while hugging Nightmare and was refusing to admit himself what was wrong.

Killer and Horror both look deeply unhappy with this newly gotten information and looka t Dust. Dust manages to somehow look even further away as he mutters "Cross makes it sound worse than it is."

Cross glares. Rude! Because he actually thinks he is underselling the issue!

Killer must come to the same conclusion as he wiggles around until he is laying right up against Dust's side and looks at him begging "You know that I know you are like the strongest monster ever right? Like it is obvious. We all know that? You know that right?"

Dust shrugs and nods but Corss has his doubts. Seeing as he didn't seem to beleive so just moments ago. Killer pouts and has his scheming face on.

Cross sighs "Either way... we need to balance the work load better." he shoots Nightmare a look "You aren't allowed to share the load as you are a child and no child labor."

Ngihtmare huffs and crosses his arms "I can help"

Killer nods "You help by staying safe nad being a good babybones!" Nightamre grumbles even more and pushes closer to Dust.

Horror hums and nods "We will... need to calm down... Taking it easy with townvisits." he shoots Dust a look "Only when it is relaly necessary."

Dust huffs and mutters "Still need cash."

Horror nods "We will figure that out later. First taking things calmly. step by step."

Cross nods as he sees Dust relax a bit. Step by step. They can do this. They got each other and everything will be fine.

*---------------*

First Drabble here Prev Drabble here Next Drabble here

[seenoversundown]

For Cryin' Out Loud

a request! Thank you to the lovely anon who submitted it! I do fear I strayed from the plot a little bit but it came out so good, I hope it works for everyone. 🥹🤭🖤

Jake Kiszka x Fem Reader

Warnings: (18+ Smut) Fluff, Angst, Uncomfortable Tension, yearning, pining, drinking, smoking — as for smut warnings, they include hand stuff, penetrative sex (for the love of god, wrap it up folks) pet names, a bit of sexual language.

For Cryin Out Loud - FINNEAS 

Her POV

There wasn’t a day that passed that I didn’t think about him. And I know that sounds crazy, but considering the history that we had, it was hard not to let him cross my mind. Even if, oftentimes, it was resentment that flooded my body. But the second he walked into view at this bar, it was like every moment played in my mind. 

We were inseparable as kids, and living down the street from each other made it even easier. Spending every summer together, rain or shine. We were just happy to laugh and play together. When we’d go back to school, we’d always hope we were in the same classes together, and if not, finding each other during recess or lunch. He was my best friend. 

When high school hit, we stayed close, but something changed. Suddenly, the way he looked at me would make my heart race, or when we hugged, it felt like we were both waiting for something. We no longer played outside, but we would lie on the floor of his bedroom for hours just watching stupid videos and laughing. Our friendship had never faltered, despite the lingering glances or awkward ‘goodbyes.’ 

Well, that was until I walked down the hall of our high school, going to find him as I would. Stopping dead in my tracks as I watched him kiss someone. My body warmed as I watched the way he held her and the way he stared at her while she spoke. It should have been me. 

I’ll never forget the look on his face when he realized I saw him. He apologized relentlessly for not telling me about her yet and said that he didn’t want to say anything until he was sure it was happening and promised nothing would change between us. But that promise was bleak. 

We slowly drifted apart, with him spending time with his new girlfriend, and I found myself picking up new hobbies to distract from the feelings I never thought I’d admit. After so many years of being around him, I didn’t think I’d have developed a crush on him. I always thought that we would end up like siblings, just too close that those feelings would never come up. Sadly, that wasn't the case for me. 

Eventually, I did start dating and slowly forget about the heartbreak he caused. A few relationships throughout college taught me lessons that I never wanted to learn. But moving back to my hometown after a handful of years away, everything here would remind me of him. 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Now, as I’m sitting here, creepily watching him walk closer to the bar, I can’t decide if I want him to notice me or completely disregard my presence. 

It was a fleeting thought when his stare met mine. His turn to feel like a deer in headlights. His eyes lit up and it was like we both turned into the child versions of ourselves again. He walks toward me and I feel all the air in my lungs dissipate. 

“Hi,” his voice blessed my ears, as his arms reached toward me for a hug. Who am I to deny him that? 

He pulls me into him, and it feels like nothing has happened between us. I whisper, “Why are you here?” Feeling his chest shake gently against mine as he quietly laughs, I missed that. 

“I have some time off, so I figured I should come visit the parents,” he tells me as he pulls back, pulling out the stool next to me. “Nothing too exciting. Did you move back or are you just visiting?”

I sigh, not fully wanting to admit that I moved back, but telling him, “I did move back.” 

“That’s not a bad thing, y’know?” He says, his voice is so soft. Pausing the conversation to order a drink, he turns back to me, saying, “I miss it all the time.” 

I can’t help but laugh at the thought. With a taunting tone, asking, “You? Jake Kiszka? You miss it here?”

He was always a talented musician, but when he finally started touring and got signed, I figured he would never want to come back here. 

“Of course, I do,” he laughs. His eyes locked on mine when he said, “A lot of good memories here.” 

We spent a while just catching up on the years we lost between us. Learning about how the band really took off and all the places they’ve been. Him asking about college and how my career was going. But we both danced around the elephant in the room, like neither of us wanted to admit what really happened. 

“I missed this,” he says, looking down at his lap for a breath. His hand lands on mine, “I missed you.”

It feels like all the air was sucked out of the room when he says it. The feeling of his thumb rubbing against the back of my hand, my stomach is in knots. And pathetically, I whisper, “Really?” 

“Every day,” he says, and it’s like the world stopped spinning. All I could hear was him, “You were my best friend, and I always hated that we stopped talking.”

All the repressed anger bubbling inside me, trying to gently let it out, but the slight attitude lacing everything I wanted to say, stopping me. 

He takes a sip of his beer, gently setting it back on the bar before asking, “Why did we stop talking?” 

“You were wrapped up in that girl you started dating,” I try to say normally, but I know he could feel the bitterness exuding from me. 

He lets out a breathy laugh, “Wait, really?”

“Yep,” is all I say, popping the ‘P’ to really drive it home. Sipping on my drink as I watch him process the situation. 

“So.. you were jealous?” He asks, a small smirk on his face. 

There were countless times in our years of being friends when I wanted to hit him, but this takes the cake. 

My eyebrows pull together, “No?” I lied. 

“Then why did it make you pull away?” 

I try to not sound like a child, but it’s hard. Telling him, “You didn’t have time for me anymore, so..” 

His smile falters, “I always had time for you.” 

“Clearly not. You never tried to reach out?” 

��Neither did you.” 

The anger swirled inside my body, not because he was doing anything wrong, but because he was right. I never attempted to rekindle anything with him and I don’t know if I was afraid of what would happen or if he would decline my calls. 

“I couldn’t,” I admit. My eyes darted away from him, knowing it’s going to have to come out at some point. 

He asks, “Why not?” 

Nothing in this world could have stopped the way my words came out, and I knew it would only cause more questions that I’d have to reluctantly answer. 

“I had to get over you, and I couldn’t do that if we still spoke,” I admit. 

He about choked on his beer, staring at me for a minute in silence. Finally mumbling, “Get over me?” 

I nod, sitting in the discomfort of him finally knowing. It’s been years but it feels like I’m my sixteen year old self again. 

“That means.. you had actual feelings for me..?” He questioned, almost like he was in disbelief. 

I hum back, “Mhm.” 

It almost feels like I’m watching him go through all the stages of grief in a matter of seconds. The look on his face and the way I could feel his mood shift. Even after years of not being around each other, I can still read him like a book. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks, almost sounding hurt. 

Tilting my head as I looked at him, “So you could reject me and make the friendship weird? There was no way I could tell you.” 

His eyebrows raised slightly, but the pain was all over his face. Quietly following up with, “How long—how long did you feel like that?”

“Like two years?” I admit— not having much to lose now. It’s been so long since everything happened, and having alcohol in my system is making this whole conversation happen a lot easier. 

The grimace on his face was telling. I gave him a moment to sit with the feeling, as much as I wanted to tell him it didn’t matter, I knew he needed to process it. 

My hand rests on his leg, and when I finally ask, “What are you thinking about?”

He shakes his head a few times before looking back over at me. Something about the twisted expression on his face makes me nervous. Muttering, “I can’t believe I was so blind.” 

“What do you mean?” 

He breathes in deep, it’s as if I can see his brain working as we sit here. Unprepared for the next thing to come out of him. 

“How didn’t I fucking see that?” He says, his voice thick with anger. “We were together constantly. I feel so dumb.” 

Taken aback by the tone, I practically whisper, “I tried to hide it. I didn’t want you to feel bad..” 

“Feel bad?” He laughs, but in the scoffing kind of way that people do. “I wanted you more than anything.” 

My jaw actually dropped. He wanted.. me? 

“Excuse me?” I ask, unable to believe that he was being honest. 

His hand rubs down his face, taking a minute before telling me, “You meant everything to me.”

My heart pounds at his words. It feels like we’ve both gone back in time and were just the timid sixteen-year-olds again. The only thing that comes out of me is, “Oh.” 

“God,” he mutters, taking the last sip of his beer. “I think I need to step outside.. come with me?”

“Sure.” 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Finding ourselves just around the corner from the door to the bar, out of the way. I’m not typically a smoker, but at the moment, it felt necessary. 

We stood there in a comfortable quiet. I think both of us were just trying to figure out where to go from here. 

“So, how long are you home?” I ask, trying to break the tension a little. 

He shrugs, “I have no plan really. We just got off tour, so I have time.” 

My stomach flips as the thought of him being around more but my brain stops me from being too excited when I ask, “No lady to get home to?” 

He shakes his head, laughing when he says, “Nope.” 

My eyes look up to meet him after he says it. 

He asks, “You?” 

“I don’t have a lady either,” I smirk, watching his eyes light up at the joke. His laugh graced my ears, and I’ve never been happier to hear it than after the last hour of my life. 

“You know what I meant, you shit,” he says in between giggles. 

My heart swells at the sound, and I finally answer him, “No, no boyfriend either.” 

He stares at the ground when he asks, “Do you have any plans tonight?” 

“Jake,” I laugh out. “I was at the bar alone. Do the math.” 

His smile still made me weak, and he mumbled, “Can I ask you something?” 

Time felt like it came to a halt. I looked at him, and all I saw was the boy that I loved so long ago. No matter how much I cried over him and wished that he would have chosen me, I can’t seem to hold it against him. 

I nod slowly, unsure where this is going. He steps toward me, closing the gap between us. His raspy voice was so sweet when he asked, “How do you feel about me now?”

Tilting my head back slightly to look at him, even after years of avoiding looking him up, trying to forget everything, hoping that I’d finally move on, he’s still perfect. 

His brown eyes are so soft as they look back at me. The way his lips were perfectly shaped, his Cupid’s bow just begging to be kissed. I wanted nothing more in this moment than to just pepper his face with little pecks. My heart rattled in my chest as we stood way too close to each other. 

Shocking myself when I tell him, “I feel like you should kiss me right about now, Kiszka.” 

His hand holds the back of my neck as he pulls me in, pressing his lips against mine. Everything I had imagined about finally getting to kiss him was coming true. Years of pent-up emotion in this, my cigarette hitting the ground next to me as I wrap my arms around his neck. Smiling into him, I can’t stop the giggle that escapes me. 

“I’ve waited so long to do that,” he whispers against me. 

The nerves in my body finally disappeared. Kissing him one more time before I asked, “Come home with me?” 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

My hand in his, I pull him through the threshold of my house. He pushes the door shut with his foot behind him, pulling me back to him. Kissing me over and over, like we were making up for lost time. 

Leading him straight to my bedroom, I start undoing the buttons on his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders. He lets it slide off, hitting the floor as he’s grabbing the hem of mine and lifting it over my head. 

He closes in on me, and I pull myself back onto the bed, and he’s crawling over me. I had seen him shirtless countless times growing up, but having him hovering over me like this, feels like a dream. 

“I never thought we’d do this,” he mumbles. 

My hands nervously touched his chest, and looking at him, I whispered back, “It’s long overdue.” 

He smiles, moving so he is just above my lips, he says, “I’ll do anything for you, beautiful.” 

My hands run down until I hit the waistband of his jeans, fiddling with the button as he’s gently biting my bottom lip. He lowers himself so his hips are pressed into me. My legs on either side of him, and any movement his body makes gives me a drop of relief. 

“Mmm,” I moan quietly, as he shifts slightly. Something about it being him makes me less embarrassed about it. Pressing a kiss against my cheek before he sits up, sliding his jeans down his legs quickly before pulling my leggings off and tossing them into the pile we’ve started. 

It’s the first time I’ve ever seen this much of him, and it’s suddenly feeling very real. He leans down, his lips pressing kisses into my stomach and dragging them up as he leaves little wet marks in between my breasts. When he finally makes it to my throat, he lowers himself back down and I can feel how hard his cock is against me. 

My hips shift against him as he kisses underneath my ear gently. He mumbles, “Do you want me to..” 

“Please— touch me,” I whine. 

His hand slipped down and underneath the lace covering me, and I gasped at the feeling. I can feel his smile on the side of my neck as I let myself enjoy the feeling. He carefully circles my clit, and I can tell he’s having fun teasing me. 

My hand slides down his chest until I feel the little trail of hair. My palm flat against his stomach creeping towards his cock, running down the length of it. His breath hitches when I do. Slipping my hand into his boxers, gently stroking him, as he whimpers against my throat. Both of us are falling apart at the smallest of touches. 

“Jake,” I whisper. “I need you.”

Without hesitation, he pulls my panties down my legs, tossing them out of the way. Following suit with his boxers, and then kneeling between my legs. We both take a second, just staring at each other. 

I always thought he was attractive; it was hard to deny. He was just a handsome guy, but getting to see him like this, he was perfect. 

He smiles as he looks down at me, and then tells me, “I don’t think I’ve told you enough how beautiful you really are.” 

I can feel my face warm at his compliment, giggling when I tell him, “You’re not too bad yourself.” 

Watching him as he moves closer, dragging the tip down, until he’s lined up. Leaning forward and pushing himself in, letting out a groan as he does. 

“Oh my god,” slips out of me. He leans down over me, letting his hips slowly meet mine. My heart pounds as he lingers there for a second. 

“Are you okay?” He asks quietly. 

Grabbing either side of his face and pulling him in, my lips land on his gently, holding the kiss for a moment before I pull back. Staring in his eyes as we lay in the most vulnerable position possible, I told him, “I’ve never been better, actually.” 

He leans back in to kiss me, and his hips start to slowly rock into me. My hands tangled in his hair as we breathlessly pressed kisses into each other. Moaning into his mouth as his hips pick up pace. 

“Yes, baby,” he moans. “Tell me how good it feels.” 

He sits back up on his knees, pulling my hips closer to him as he thrusts into me a bit harder. His hands wrapped around my waist and held me up slightly— our moans filled the room.

My hand sliding down, and letting out a loud moan as I start to rub small little circles on my clit. Staring at this man whom I’ve pined over for years, finally getting the chance to have him to myself, and every second feels like bliss. 

The feeling of my orgasm nearing, my body warming, and the visual of his necklace bouncing off his chest, making it harder to hold it in. 

“Jake,” I let out, louder than before.

His smirk is instant, and his voice has a sultry tone when he tells me, “Come for me, baby.” 

My mouth opens slightly as the feeling starts to overwhelm me, succumbing to it. 

“That’s my girl,” he mumbles, and I can feel his stare as I go through it. 

He leans down and lets his lips rest against my forehead, kissing it a few times before hovering above me. 

I quietly ask, “Are you close?” 

He nods a few times, giggling as he says, “I’ve been struggling to hold it together, baby.” 

Tapping his hips a few times, he pulls out slowly. Wrapping my hand around it, I start stroking him quickly. His mouth fell open as I did. Watching him try to keep his eyes open, but he can’t help it. 

I whisper, “Come, babe. You know you want to.”

He whimpers quietly, and I can feel him inching closer. 

“Give it to me,” I mumble. 

His hips jerk forward, and the moan that falls out of him is delicious. I just watch his face as he works through his orgasm. 

We lay there in comfortable silence— the only sound is our breathing. The moment feels surreal. 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

He graciously cleaned up the mess we made and then crawled back into bed with me. He pulls me closer, my head landing on his shoulder. Tracing the little freckles on his stomach as we lay there. 

“Uhh,” I let out. “Did you happen to pay for your beer?” 

His eyes go wide, he mutters, “Shit.” 

“Neither did I,” I told him. Both of us fall into a fit of laughter, and everything just feels right. 

“So,” I start. Nervous to ask, but knowing I’ll regret it if I don’t. “..what are we doing?” 

He tilts my chin up to look at him, and quietly says, “Whatever you want.” 

My heart thuds as I stare at him. I hesitate when I start to say, “Only if you’re sure. I don’t—“ 

He cuts me off with a kiss, pulling back, he whispers, “I’ve waited years for you— I’m sure.” 

“Then I’m all yours, babe,” I giggle out. 

We both lay there in a dreamy state, just enjoying each other's presence. Fully in disbelief that the boy I once longed for is finally mine. 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Taglist: (reply or dm to be added | sorry I'm just using the most recent version of the taglist, I figured you would all enjoy)

@gvfsstardust @myleftsock @imleavingyoufornewyork @dont-go-home-without-me

@literal-dead-leaf @lizzys-sunflower @mackalah @klarxtr

@edgingthedarkness @writingcold @takenbythemadness @i-love-gvf

@earthgrlsreasy @peaceloveunitygvf @gretavanfan @musicspeaks

@jazzyfigz @smoking-jakelane @demonrat444 @hollyco

@josh-iamyour-mama @wrldabomination @broken0mens @whereiskeara

@gvf-luna @lilbitx @gvfstuddedmajesty @katuschka @chloeshell1219

@becinabubblegvf @scoreofinfantryvines @ourlovesdesires

@sanguinebats @nicoleghost18 @lightmy-love

@monkeylaura627 @myownparadise96 @cheersdannyx2 @dyslexicchild13

@lallisonl @mohollandtx @fleetingjake @allof--mylove

@anythingforjtk @musicislove3389

@i-choose-the-road @demolitiondanchipsversion @godly-sinsx

@joshylanefleet @alantern-inthenight

@justwantjosh

[folerdetdufoler]

like my first trip to oslo, this one started with an impulse purchase of tickets: a performance of snøfall on november 30th. i didn’t have a flight or a place to stay or any kind of plan really, just the fact that i had to be at the theatre with haidee & nadège at 18:00 on friday. i knew they would be in oslo then because they were planning on going to the fan convention, so i guess there was that. i had also chatted with jenn and knew she was going too, and for a few days there were a flurry of messages and excitement. and then i stopped thinking about it.

which is how i, an adult, deal with things that stress me out. at some point i bought a plane ticket, and booked a hotel room, and bought a concert ticket for saturday, and talked to some more people about it, but i still managed to be wildly unprepared by the time wednesday rolled around. i managed to find my passport that morning and pull my suitcase down from the attic, but i was still in my pajamas trying to finish the last chapter of my fic by the time it hit 15, when i was supposed to leave for the airport. i threw a vague number of outfits into that suitcase and got out of the house before my ride (my brother) got too pissed off, but i was super stressed out and disappointed in myself before we hit the highway.

i had left so much behind: my fic on my computer, my gifts for haidee and nadege, the glucose tablets i bought specifically for the trip, half of my toiletries...and on top of that i was about to head into airport security with a new pump and cgm attached to me. i honestly was not sure if i was going to actually get on a plane that evening. i stood in line, sweating through my pajamas, dying to anxiety-tweet through the whole thing except i didn’t want anyone to know i was at the airport in case i didn’t make it out. on top of everything i’d managed to forget/give up on before leaving the house, i didn’t want to fail yet another thing.

i didn’t, obviously. it was stressful as hell, because i had to send my bag, phone, passport, everything through the x-ray scanner and wait for someone to escort me through for a physical exam. i stood in the middle of the room for what felt like hours (it was not hours) watching as people swirled around my entire identity at the end of a conveyor belt, out of reach, knowing that even if i saw someone lift my shit i couldn’t yell or run to intervene because i was surrounded by tsa agents just waiting to body slam the girl with a small black box attached to her to the ground. i felt like a threat even though i wasn’t. i had foolishly sent my only glucose tablets through the machine with my bag so if i happened to go low while waiting, turning into a sweating, shaking, suspicious mess, i wouldn’t be able to save myself or prove my medical needs because, lol, my medical ID was in my bag too. ugh. scratch that, i was a threat to myself.

i made it through. an agent finally helped me through and did my exam. my pump was deemed not an explosive device and no one stole my passport. i even had enough time to change my sensor in the bathroom before boarding. this, of course, should have been done at home in a sanitary environment and not immediately before ascending 30,000 feet above the earth but i think we’ve established how shit i am at planning so...moving on.

the flight was great. i had an empty seat next to me. we were delayed about an hour taking off, but that just gave me time to text with lizzie, who was also at the airport then but on a different flight to oslo. i had missed her in my tsa daze but it was a fun realization that right then there was a tiny migration happening to oslo, a bunch of fans starting their journeys all around the world and getting excited. my sensor warmed up and functioned like a dream the whole flight, and i finally felt like i could breathe again by the time we’d landed at gardermoen.

at the airport i bought most of the things i had forgotten (a bitch needs tweezers, okay?) and zipped over to the hotel. they were super busy so i couldn’t check in, but i dropped off my suitcase and went to meet up with jasmine and silvia. god it was so nice to see jasmine again, that amazing norwegian ambassador. it’s so wonderful, just in general, being able to hug a person who is part of your life every day. i wouldn’t say we talk directly, but a day doesn’t go by where i don’t read her tweets and like, have this awareness of her life in my own, so on the one hand it’s like oh my god i haven’t seen you since the beginning of the summer and on the other hand i was just talking to you so uh, has anything new happened in the last hour? anyway, we hugged, i screamed, the usual, and then we found silvia, and after that hugging mission was complete it was on to the lunch mission!

the first photo i took on norwegian soil was the bar was passed: angst. this was where the book release party was held just the week before and i took a photo to capture my missed opportunity. i forget where we actually ended up for lunch but we ate and jasmine handed off the elle magazine i’d asked her to pick up for me and we talked about the fandom and the show and just...life in norway in general. as i spend more time there and talk to more people who live there, i’m convincing myself that i would like to try finding a job and staying for a while. i understand that all of my experiences thus far have been terribly positive because they’ve basically been vacations, with no basis for a regular lifestyle, but it still feels like the day-to-day reality wouldn’t be so scary either. check back in 2025 to see if i’ve made any progress on that.

after lunch we walked around with no real purpose. i wanted to go to the new h&m that had just opened that morning to see what the fuss was about with the collection that henrik & lea had modeled for. the store was pretty big but there was zero fuss. we stayed on karl johans, visiting the bookstore and wandering through the christmas market. then silvia had to leave so we said goodbye. in the spirit of a 220-lb. woman who barely has any social skills, i managed to hug silvia and lift her off the ground without realizing, so Io chiedo sinceramente scusa. it was a weird note to end on but up until that point it was just so nice being able to hang out with someone you’ve never met but instantly get. girl, you’re fabulous. vi ses snart.

the only other thing i had on my agenda was to visit the publisher to pick up my script books. it was a mini-nightmare getting into their office, which i wouldn’t have been able to do without jasmine’s help, but we managed to figure out how doors work and got to chat with someone. it turns out my books were still at the bar, so they promised to send them over to the hotel once they could get them back. they also told us about the book signing at tanum the following weekend, which was nice. i was bummed that i had managed to miss both the release party and the book signing but at least we had the information and could share it with the fandom.

then it was back to the hotel, where i could properly check in. i was greeted with a bathrobe with my name embroidered on it, which made me laugh. jasmine and i didn’t have any further plans so we decided to go find dinner and walk around some more. we took the elevator down (duh) and walked to johnny rockets for some milkshakes, which was fun. despite it being an american restaurant, i’ve never been, so it felt like i was being a tourist in my hometown. when i couldn’t give our waiter a fun fact about new jersey for him to entertain us with, he just gave up and drew a snowman in ketchup. not for his lack of trying though, it’s just that i live in the armpit of the united states and i don’t think that’s easy to illustrate in condiments. after dinner we went to find akrobaten bridge, which was on my list of sights to see even though it was only in the show for exactly six seconds in a couple of transition shots. no moment from season three is too small in my mind.

after that i think it was still pretty early but a bitch was done. i didn’t sleep much on the flight or the night before, so i was running on empty and literally fell asleep in front of jasmine at the hotel. i sent her off on her train after a more appropriate hug and the general idea that i’ll see her again. it didn’t happen that weekend but that was okay, because earlier that month i impulse-bought another ticket, so i knew i’d be back next year.

it’s just never enough, is it?

[diabolikwriter]

Nga yawne lu oer - Chapter 8

Recom! Miles x Na’vi/Avatar! Fem! Reader

Warnings: KISSING!! Cussing, Racism, Hurt, angst, break up, getting back together, sad Miles, sad (y/n), they both need a hug.

Word Count: 2044

Chapter 8: Catching Up

                                           Miles’ POV

They had gotten back to base and the atmosphere had been strained and depressing on their flight back, and it hadn’t gotten better through dinner. After dinner and watching you being depressed and sad with no end in sight, he had decided that he needed to talk to you. Perhaps it was the time he learned the end of your engagement, the death of your sister, the thoughts and despair that you had felt, and perhaps had locked safely away in your chest for the past 15 years. Miles had asked Lyle if he and Z-dog where willing to watch over Spider while he talked with you, because for some reason Spider had become quite attached to those two recoms, and of course Lyle said yes, and no doubt Z-dog were also onboard for what Lyle called a “Nephew and Aunt/Uncle night”.

“Sweetheart can I talk with you? In private?” Miles asked you. You were sitting with Spider and talking quietly. You looked a bit hesitant at his request. “I just want to talk. I just want some answers, and of course if you don’t want to then we don’t have to. But I remember that one time many years ago, when you and I had just gotten together, how you told me that talking with someone can help process loss, trauma and any other destressing emotion.” You nodded in acknowledgement at his words.

“Sure, we can talk, but what about Spider? You sure you just want him running around?”

“Don’t worry (y/n)! We’ll take him.” Lyle walked calmly into the room with Z-dog and just like Mils had expected she too looked pleased with this outcome. “C’mon little monkey! Let’s leave your folks to talk.”

Spider nodded, and though he had never been alone with those two before, he still looked a bit excited. “Bye Mom, love you.” He hugged you before turning to Miles. “Hurt her and you’ll regret it.” He threatened before happily skipping over to the two recoms.

“Shall we?” Asked Miles and held his hand out for you to take, but you ignored it and stood up on your own and walked towards Miles’ room.

------

You immediately went to yours and Spiders bed and sat down and Miles did the same, though he didn’t touch the bed, because apparently that was disrespectful, and you had been very close to clawing his eyes out the last and only time he had touched it.

“Sweetheart I’m sorry for all you had to lose. Hometree, me, your sister and what ever else that you lost those days.” He said gently and truthfully.

“Grace. I lost Grace too.”

“You lost Augustine?”

“Yeah you killed her, shot her when she, Jake and the others escaped from Hell’s Gate.” You sounded so sad, and Miles knew that Augustine had meant a lot to you.

“I recall shooting at the helicopter, but unfortunately, I can’t remember getting told of her death.”

“I told you the last time you and I ever talked to each other.” You mumbled, it seemed as if those memories weighed heavily on your shoulders.

“I take it, that it didn’t end well.”

“No, it didn’t.”

                                           *Flashback*

                                           (y/n) POV

You had just gotten the news that Grace had died from Max, it would have been too suspicious if both of you had gone and participated in the videocall, so Max was the one to deal with them. Besides you also had your son to worry about and right now you trusted nobody else but Max. You hadn’t spoken to Miles either, you felt betrayed. You had wasted so many hours trying to make him see Pandora, trying to make him understand that this wasn’t just savage people, but that they actually had something beautiful going on. And what had Miles done? Well he had ignored every single conversation and lesson and had decided to burn Hometree. He and Parker had destroyed everything and you had for days now, not been able to connect with you Avatar, because they knew that it was with the people, just like Graces and Jakes. Everything hurt. And though you loved Miles with everything, you couldn’t ignore what he had done. The man you thought you knew and who had promised you that he would do everything in his power to make sure that this conflict was settled peacefully, had betrayed you. You were sitting in you room, which haven’t been in use for a good year, and your son, Miles, had been put to sleep in his cradle, and was snoozing peacefully, not knowing the pain his mother was feeling and if it was up to you he would never. Without knocking someone stepped into your room and when looking up, your heart dropped to your stomach. There stood Miles, your fiancé, and he looked very annoyed.

“Pray tell why you’ve decided to stay in this dusty room, when there’s a perfectly comfortable bed in our room, which you’ve decorated to your hearts content.” Your fiancé inquired to which you coldly answered:

“This is my room, if you’ve forgotten and we’re perfectly comfortable here.”

“And is there a reason why you’ve decide to ‘spice up’ the living arrangements, I can certainly get all of our thing moved here, but the space is significantly smaller.”

“No thanks, I think Miles and I will do quite fine here…. Alone..”

“Darlin’, I do not like what you’re hinting at. Are you saying that you don’t want me here with the two of you.”

“Yes.”

“That’s ridiculous!” He raised his voice and baby Miles started squirming in the crib, and you quickly went and shushed him. “You can’t keep me from my son.” He spoke after your son had fallen asleep again.

“Maybe not, but I would prefer that my son stay away from murderers.”

“Really (y/n) is that what I am? Darlin’ they’re nothing but savages, meaningless, brainless people, who’s standing in the way. If they just left that damn tree, then it wouldn’t have come to this.”

“It wasn’t just a tree! Have you forgotten everything I told you?” You whispered angrily. “They have lived in that tree for generations! And unlike fucking humans, they actually care for the nature around them, and they don’t take more than needed! And besides you didn’t just kill some of them, you also fucking killed Grace!”

“Oh really? Is that how you see us humans? I think you’ve spend to much time with them, you certainly are starting to sound like those traitors, perhaps it was a good thing that I killed that bitch, she certainly has brainwashed you. But it won’t matter tomorrow we’ll fly out destroy that ‘Tree of souls’ and then when we’ve won, us three can settle down and live peacefully together.” Miles reached out and caressed you cheek. “I’ll make you forget everything about those savages, and I’ll make sure that horrendous body of yours is disposed of.”

Anger coursed through your veins and you harshly ripped his hand away from you. “You are a fucking monster! I can’t believe that I ever thought that I could make you see. Have you been stringing me along all this time. Was any of it ever true? You told me that you wanted to settle this conflict peacefully! Have you been planning this all along?” You broke down crying.

“Who cares? What’s done is done, and it is so much easier this way. After this you and I will be married and then we can live peacefully with our son.”

The rage took over, and you tore your engagement ring off your finger and threw it at him. “I refuse to marry a fucking monster! Take your damn ring, give it to someone who’s as fucked as you are! I can’t believe that I ever loved you! I trusted you! And you fucking broke that, you lied to me!” You screamed through the snot and the tears.

Miles stood flabbergasted, you knew he had never seen you act like this, and you could see the regret set in. But you were both startled by the sound of your son crying. You quickly went to him and picked him up, and cuddled him to you while gently rocking him in your arms. “It’s okay baby.. calm down.”

“Darlin’, I-“

“Fuck off! I don’t ever want to see you again.” And you turned your back to him, and just continued to comfort your crying son.

                                              *Flashback ends*

 You had kept your eyes on the floor while telling Quaritch the last conversation you had with his human self. But when you looked up, you saw something you didn’t expect: Tears. Quaritch was crying. You had never seen him cry, other than the day you gave birth and when you said yes to be his wife. And in spite of all the trauma and hurt you had felt you couldn’t bare to see the man, who had made you fall in love with him again, cry.

“Miles?” You leaned forward and gently laid a hand on his upper arm, tears were also running down your cheeks, and you figured that the both of you probably looked like a big mess. When Miles looked up he saw your tears and gently wiped your tears away, and you did the same.

“It feels like I remember that. I don’t know why or how. But I know that he regretted it till his dying day.” He carefully caressed your cheek, and took a deep breath before looking into your eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry sweetheart. Those words, were the words of a monster.” Miles seemed to remember something before shoving his hand down a pocket and pulling something up. He took your hand and unfolded it before carefully laying the object in your hand. When you looked down you saw that it was your engagement ring and tears made their way forward again. “He or rather I had kept it on the same chain as my tags. Probably hoping to give it back to you.” Miles once again wiped your tears away while you inspected the ring. “Technically we’re not the same person, but I have all of his memories up until a certain point, and I know that you meant everything to him. And even now you mean everything to me, you make me whole.” You didn’t let Miles continue, instead you surged forward and connected you lips for the first time in 15 years, and it felt so good. Your body igniting in a way it hadn’t in the past 15 years. Miles clutched you to him his hand going to your hair and gripping your queue and making you moan, your body rocking closer to his. You tore your mouth away from his to get some air and Miles continued to nibble on your jaw.

“Miles we need to stop.” You gasped.

“I know. I know Sweetheart.” He sounded just as out of breath as you and you giggled touching your forehead to his. You both slowly caught your breath, and Miles gently ran his hands up and down your back. You softly pecked his lips a couple of times before removing yourself from his lap.

“I love you, Miles. And I’m not quite ready to forgive you from all the damage, I’ve realised that no matter which form you take I’ll end up loving you. I’m willing to try again. I’m willing to let you into my heart, but please don’t break it. I can’t take another heartbreak.” You admitted and looked into his eyes. Once again he laid his hand on your cheek and this time you nuzzled into it.

“I promise Sweetheart.” He whispered almost in awe of getting a second chance.

“Come sleep with me?” You patted the spot beside you on the bed and Miles eagerly agreed.

You both laid down, with you tucked to his chest, your legs and tails entangling together, almost as if this was the most natural thing in the world.

You knew that the two of you needed to discuss the dilemma with Jake and the General. But for now you cuddled into your Miles and softly sighed out before closing your eyes and succumbing to the darkness of sleep.

Taglist:

​​ @ratchetprime211 @mechformers @iwishiwas-anita​ @iskamr  @yumuramma​​ @isabellekenway @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed​  @callmejod​  @mochiivqi​ @sofiebstar @ssc7514 @mikeyswifie​ @ducks118 @ladylovegood-69​

[twisted-wonderland-shenanigans]

Can be either older Yuu or mini Yuu except I imagine this scenario fits the latter more: Yuu: “…so Rook let me play with his bow while he helped Vil with something, and then I accidentally moved a curtain in his room. I was going to put back, except I saw a lot of pictures of you guys sleeping on the wall for some reason. I wonder why he has those pictures though?” Everyone in Savanaclaw: “😱😱😱😱😨😨😨😨” Ruggie: “…it means we’re going to lock the windows and doors every night from now on”

Pffft yes, I love this because it’s chaotic and Rook being Rook is just priceless 😂

Let's go with mini!Yuu then since I'm in the mood for cuteness~! Had to look at Rook's room to get a reminder of what was where. >3>

////---------////

“Hold it like this, mon chou. Beaute~! You’ve got it, mon petit lapin.”

“Uh…Rook, are you sure this is a good idea?”

“But of course, Monsieur Crabapple! It is never too late to teach them how to wield a bow like a true hunter, no?”

Epel’s ear flicked as he stared at the small human, watching them try to hold up the large bow as Rook helped steady their arms. “I don’t know…it’s a little big for them, don’t you think?” he asked, instinctively moving away when the toy ‘arrow’ wobbled in his direction as they tried to aim at the makeshift target. “What if Vil finds out? Won’t he be mad?”

“Non, non, it will be fine,” Rook said, a proud smile on his face. “Someday, they shall hunt their own proud, powerful quarry—surely even the Roi de Poison would be proud of our little mon chou, no?”

“Um…wouldn’t a toy sword be better though? And safer…?”

Yuu looked up at Epel and said with the biggest smile, “I wanna learn to hunt like Rook!”

At that Rook leaned back on his avian legs, looking smitten as he crooned, “Ah, my heart! How precious and beautiful this moment is!” Before he could continue, his phone pinged and he turned to read the message that arrived for him. “Ah, I see. Roi de Poison requires my assistance with preparations for his next photo shoot. Would you watch over them while I am gone?”

“Oh. Sure! I can handle it,” Epel told him, arms opening as Yuu—now relieved of the bow and toy arrow by Rook—toddled over to him for a hug. “Don’t worry, we’ll have lots of fun, Yuu!”

“Very well. I leave them in your care, Monsieur Crabapple,” came the response, Rook reaching down to pet Yuu’s head before the harpy hunter stood and hurried out the door.

Turning to the small human, the faun hybrid tilted his head and asked, “Do you want to head back to my room? My folks sent me a batch of fresh apples we can munch on.”

“Oooh, apples!”

“Okay, let’s go!”

As he stood with them in his arms, he faltered when Yuu suddenly started squirming in protest. “No, wait! We need to find Mr. Flopsy!”

He’d almost forgotten about the stuffed rabbit toy they had earlier, a present from Vil after one of his earlier photo shoots about two weeks ago and he stopped in town to pick up a few toys. They loved all the gifts he brought, but they seemed to fixate quite strongly on the stuffed rabbit with yellow fur, a white cotton tail, and a tuft of hair on its head. They’d played a game with Yuu where Mr. Flopsy was “bouncing” around the room, on occasion being tossed by the toddler to one of the others and vice versa. That was before they came across Rook’s bow, which led to them having the impromptu lesson.

“Okay, let’s take a look ‘n see,” he said, searching around the room for the fluffy toy. Yuu searched low while Epel searched high, scanning the space for any sign of their toy. It wasn’t until Yuu called out and pointed up at the canopy above the bed that he saw it…along with the peeling wallpaper in the corner and the squares taped to the wall's surface underneath.

“What’s that?” Yuu asked, looking up at him with curious eyes.

“Huh…they look like pictures.” Looking closer, he frowned once he realized that they were photographs…of various students. “…student pictures.”

Yuu’s fingers pointed at one particular photo with the biggest smile on their face as they said, “Look! It’s uncle Leona and Cheka!” They giggled and pointed to another one saying, “And big brother Ruggie! And Jack-Jack! And uncle Leona again! He looks sleepy in that one.”

The more names Yuu pointed out, the more unnerved Epel began to feel. “I guess…everyone has some sort of hobby,” he mumbled before he climbed up to grab the toy and then carrying Yuu. “Time to go.”

“But I wanna see more of the pretty pictures!”

“I can find you better ones later!”

////--Later at Savanaclaw--////

“Hey, kiddo! Didja have fun over at Pomefiore?”

“Yeah!”

“Great! Did anything interesting happen?”

“Rook tried to teach me to use his bow and arrow set!”

“Oh…is that right?”

"Great...as if we need another hunter around here..."

“Uh-huh! And he had lots of pretty pictures too.”

“Huh. Pictures sound nice—any interesting ones?”

“I saw uncle Leona and Cheka!”

“…what?”

“And you and Jack-Jack were there too, Ruggie!”

“…uh…huh…”

“He really likes taking pictures of people, huh?”

“Yeeeeeah…I think we’re gonna start locking everyone’s doors from now on.”

"Why?"

"I'll tell you when you're older."

"Okay, I'm older now!"

"Eh?"

"I'm a whole minute older, so now you can tell me, right?"

"Nice try, but you need to be older than that. Like...about ten years older."

"Awww! No fair..."

[goodieghostyarchive]

Well good thing I checked then. I always forget what I have and haven't sent in.

We start with a cute little scene. Roman is hugging Virgil and pulls back, handing him a lavender bouquet. “There are tons of good folk out there who care about you, who worry for you. You are allowed to lean on us. Okay?” He says with a friendly super platonic kiss to the cheek which is totally normal for gods who are friends to do. But Roman can’t help a little blush and is so busy with leaving before Virgil can notice that he doesn’t catch Virgil holding a hand to his cheek with a blush that’s at least as bad. Roman leaves and Virgil summons a side table with a vase to put the flowers in, a smitten smile on his face as he carefully situates the new flowers. Smelling them again.

Then a flash of Orpheus’ smile going from alive and well to dead and at peace in his arms and Virgil recoils. He shakes his head.

“What is the matter with me?” he wonders with sad/angry eyes. “You’d think a god would learn?”

He walks away from the flowers his arms wrapped around himself in an attempt to seek comfort.

“If there's a prize for rotten judgement,” he sings as he takes out the rings he always carries around his neck, looking at them with sorrow.

“I guess I've already won that

No man is worth the aggravation”

A flashback, this time of himself holding Orpheus on the battlefield and letting out a mournful scream of agony that covers the world in darkness.

Virgil drops the rings again, marching on, determined. “That's ancient history, been there, done that”

Black shadowcreatures appear (Virgil’s brothers? His underlings?) and snatch one of the lavenderstems with them as they start a chorus. Trying to catch Virgil’s attention and make him see what’s obvious to everyone.

“Who d'you think you're kidding He's the earth and heaven to you Try to keep it hidden Honey we can see right through you Boy, you can't conceal it We know how you're feeling Who you thinking of” collectively form a silhouette of Roman reaching out to him, Virgil just waves them away making the image disperse.

“Oh, No chance, no way, I won't say it, no, no

(You swoon you sigh why deny it oh, oh)

It's too cliche, I won't say I'm in love” Virgil enters his private chambers and lets himself drop on the bed he hasn’t really used since Remy outgrew nursing. He looks to his side and finds the book with Orpheus’ poems. He picks it up and flips through it with a fond but sad smile.

“I thought my heart had learned it's lesson

It feels so good when you start out” He catches sight of some trinket Roman gave him back when he was still figuring out that he didn’t need to bribe Virgil to maintain the friendship they’d established, he’d never had the heart to toss any away. He reaches out but changes his mind, sits up looking frustrated.

“My head is screaming: Get a grip man

Unless you're dying to cry your heart out"

Virgil gets up leaving both the trinket and the book behind as he moves on through his palace followed by the shadows once more.

“Dude, you can't deny it Who you are is how you're feeling Highness, we're not buying Man we saw you hit the ceiling Face it like a grown-up When you gonna own up that you got, got, got it bad

No chance no way, I won't say it, no no”

Virgil catches sight of the garden outside the castle, something he never had until Roman decided to provide some thematicly appropriate vegetation with Remus’ help. He recalls how proud Roman had looked when he showed the fruits of their labor and can’t help but smile fondly.

“(Give up, give in, check the grin you're in love)” Virgil blinks out of the memory and turns away stubbornly.

“This scene won't play, I won't say I'm in love

(We'll do it until you admit you're in love)

You're way off base, I won't say it

Get off my case, I won't say it

(Man, don't be proud, it's okay you're in love)” Finally Virgil fails to avoid the lavender and picks it up smiling fondly as he situates himself on a windowsill.

“Oh, at least out loud I won't say I'm in love”

Zoom out to see he’s in his offering room with a clay statue once given to him by a certain demigod on display right next to him

MY HEART

My H E A R T AH FCK

[missymurphy1985]

The Lesson

After breaking up with your long-term boyfriend, you finally found the courage to enrol at university, studying Modern Theatre. Your life now taking an unexpected detour to its original plan of marriage, babies, settling down. This is going to be an interesting year.

Tag List (message me to be added): @queenshelby @peakyscillian @ntmynouis @margoo0 @cloudofdisney

Warnings - smut / teacher.student relationship

Main Characters - Cillian Murphy (he's 35 and single for the purpose of this fic, no children)

"Hey!!! Over here!!" You heard Sarah, your best friend, shouting from the other side of the hall and made your way over.

"Thank god, I was starting to think I'd gone to the wrong place! This place is huge!!" You laughed as you hugged each other. Your bag slung over your shoulder, you linked arms with Sarah with your other arm as you made your way down to the Lecture Theatre.

"So how are you feeling?" Sarah asked.

"Nervous! I never, in a million years, thought I'd be doing this! I feel so old!" You laughed. At 26, you were easily the oldest student here, but Sarah laughed your worries away.

"Trust me, you're not. Once they revealed who the teacher was going to be this semester, a fair few extra people signed up to do that course y/n!" You looked at her confused.

"What, Mr Allen?? He's about 75 isn't he?" Sarah laughed again and left you at the door to your classroom, making her way to her own Design Studio at the bottom of the corridor to teach her own class.

"You'll see when you get inside!" She called behind her, smiling.

You took your seats near the front of the room, looking behind you you could see a gaggle of ladies in the back corner, all of them easily over the age of 40 with no clear interest at all in the subject at hand. They were all giggling like children.. this was going to be fun, you thought, rolling your eyes. Turning back round, you caught a glimpse of a dark haired man making his way through the door at the back of the room. As he made his way to the desk in the centre of the stage area in front of the students, you couldn't help but gasp a little. Jesus he was cute....

The ladies at the back squealed in delight and the man rolled his eyes.

"Right then, let's make a few things clear from the off shall we folks?" He spoke, his Irish accent booming through the auditorium. Everyone fell silent.

"I have a passion for the arts - I've been involved with them since I was 19. I'm here to teach you all I've learned over the last 16years and I plan on teaching it to like minded, dedicated people. People who want to make a career out of the beauty that is theatre. Those of you here simply to catch a glimpse of anything OTHER than a teacher doing his job, the doors at the back of the room." He stood still, leaning against the desk. The gasp at the back of the room was so loud, you couldn't help but giggle a little. Busted ladies. They all whispered to each other, a few of them glaring in the man's direction as they made their way to the back of the room. Slowly but surely, a few others also left sheepishly, men included, and you couldn't help but notice the man smiling a little underneath his floppy brown hair and round glasses. Who was this man??

"Now that's taken care of, I'm hoping I'm left with students that are here to learn the theatre and nothing else..." He paused, looking round the room. His eyes met yours and he paused for a second, raising his eyebrow slightly. You were now the oldest in the room, and you felt even more out of place. You kept a straight face, and maintained the eye contact with him. He wasn't bullying YOU out of here, you didn't care who he THOUGHT he was.

"Right... Well we'd better get going then!" His demeanour changed, he smiled broadly clapping his hands together. "My name's Cillian Murphy - please for the love of God call me Cillian... Mr Murphy is my Dad and I'm not quite ready for that level of old yet." A few chuckles in the room - that tension was gone. "This isn't the first time I've done a class like this, and I've had to evict people part way through for.. ah.. shall we say inappropriate behaviour. Wanted to nip that in the bud from the offset, so I apologise to you all now for the way the class started. Now, do you all have the textbooks the school sent out last month? Let's start on page 35 shall we?" The class, including you, opened the books in unison to find the chapter on Lighting and Sound. Cillian glanced back over at you, a look of uncertainty on his face. You could feel him staring, but refused to look up at him.

"So how are your classes going y/n?" Your mum walked into your apartment to find you studying, book one side, laptop the other and you making notes in the middle of your desk in the corner of the room. You'd given her a key a month prior so she could let your dog, Juno, out during the day while you were at uni.

"It's hard work! I had no idea there was so much to learn about the theatre, they make it look so easy!!"

Your mum laughed and went to the kitchen to put the kettle on for you both. Kicking back, you allowed yourself a break after 3 hours studying and met your mum at the small breakfast bar.

"I hear you have a new teacher too? Cillian Murphy?"

"Yeah, he's amazing! He's been there and done it all mum, the stories he tells are fascinating!"

"You know who he is, right?" You did know. You'd googled him when you got home after that first lesson. Pretty big hot shot actor, but you weren't bothered. He seemed pretty down to earth and normal to you.

"Yep I know - you'd never think it though, he's so... Normal I guess?"

"Cute too."

"Mother! Behave!" You both giggled. You couldn't deny he was very attractive though - but you could tell he was a professional. No way had he even looked at you that way - in fact you were convinced he thought you were there purely for him, rather than the course, so you were even more determined to pass this semester with flying colours to prove a point.

The following weeks were filled with more information than you could get your head around. You hated to admit it, but you were struggling to keep up. You hated admitting defeat, but you were really starting to wonder if you could carry on at this pace. Your work was starting to slip, and Cillian had noticed it too, much to your dismay. He'd called a 1-2-1 with you this afternoon, and you were convinced he was going to pull you from the course. You knocked on the door of his office, the defeat written all over your face.

"Come in y/n.."

"Hi.." you tried to smile as you sat across from him. He had your latest piece of coursework in front of him on the desk and he was leaning back in the chair, eyeing you through the rims of his round glasses. Standing up, he made his was over to the drinks cabinet in the corner of the room and pulled out a bottle of Irish Whiskey. You watched him, silently, as he put two glasses on the desk.

"Shouldn't be drinking this during the day, but felt the need. Want one?" You smiled, nodding your head.

"Conversation is clearly not going to be a fun one, no?"

"What makes you say that? I'm just lightening the mood y/n, you walked in here looking like you were going to either cry or knock me out!" He laughed, and offered you the glass. You took it, and sat it in your hands. Your fingers connected and you forced down a gasp at the contact. You'd refused to show him any kind of attraction but it was difficult while he was sat so close to you.

"Listen, I know I'm falling behind Cillian, I'll make it up I promise -"

"Stop. It's okay. Yes, your marks are dropping slightly, but not by much, okay? I'm seeing real potential in you. I invited you here to talk to you about some extra classes to help bump you back to where you need to be. What do you say?" He took a sip of the whiskey and so did you. Relief washing through you as the warm liquid fell down your throat. Hopefully it hid the blush in your cheeks.

"Um.. wow... Okay.. yeah! That'd be great, thank you!" He smiled again. God that smile... Stop it y/n.. he's your teacher, stop.. he sat back down at his desk and handed you a book.

"Great! I've put my phone number on the inside cover. Have a read of this, and call me when you're done. I think you'll like it." You took the book and smiled. A history of Modern Theatre. You agreed, definitely an interesting read.

"Is it classed as 'appropriate' for a teacher to give a student his phone number, Cillian?" You smirked, referring to his opening outburst on that first day. He chuckled.

"Maybe not, but I'm not a teacher, I'm an actor helping out the local university for a semester while the actual teacher takes a leave of absence." You'd heard Mr Allen had fallen ill, Cillian was just a temporary stand in for three months. Nothing permanent. "I have a new job starting in January, I'll be done here by Christmas." You couldn't help but feel a bit sad at the thought of him not being around anymore. Without admitting it, you'd looked forward to seeing him every day in class. He stood again, and raised his glass in a toast. You raised yours.

"What are we drinking to?"

"You. We're drinking to you y/n. I'm telling you, I'm seeing some real potential with you - you're going far, just need to focus more on the content, that's all." You blushed again.. was that the reason you were distracted? Him? Maybe. "Meet me back here tonight, around 4:30? Should be done with marking by then, we can make a start?" You agreed, a nervous knot forming in your stomach.

**************************************

You'd been having your 1-2-1 meetings with Cillian for more than a month now, and your marks were certainly improving. You had finished the book he gave you, but you hadn't plucked up the courage to text him yet. Watching TV alone in your apartment one evening, you downed your third glass of wine and picked up your phone. He wouldn't have given you the number if he didn't expect you to use it, come on y/n...

"Hey Cillian? Just letting you know I finished the book. Really good read, thank you! I'll have it back with you in the morning. And thank you for spending time with me helping to improve my marks too, it's really helped. Y/n x" pressing send, you cursed yourself, why the hell did you put a X at the end!!! You cursed again when it was delivered... Then again when its status changed to 'read'... Oh crap... A reply.

"Glad you liked it! It's been a pleasure, you're doing a great job! Cx." He put one on his text too... Come on y/n, you're not a teenager anymore, get a grip of yourself!!! Your phone pinged again.

"Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow xx" 2 kisses? Ping.. "Maybe we can finish more than your coursework.x" What did that mean? Was he flirting with you?

"What did you have in mind? X"

"There's still half a bottle of whiskey in the cupboard, shame to let it go to waste X"

"I don't think you'd be able to keep up with me Cillian 😉" you typed, feeling a bit braver.

"Challenge accepted y/n. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon X" you knew his stint at the university was coming to a close, was he flirting with you?

****************************************

You knocked Cillian's office door at 4:30 sharp, knowing how much of a stickler he was for punctuality. You felt nervous, after your texts last night you didn't know what to expect - was he flirting or were you just overthinking it? The door opened, and he stood aside to welcome you in, a smile on his face as he greeted you.

"Good to see you y/n, come on in!" He walked to the cabinet in the corner. "I never turn down a challenge, you in?" You smiled, nodding, as he poured two glasses.

"Good job I left the car at home this morning," you chuckled as he brought his glass to meet yours. Both of you sinking it down in one, you grimaced as the liquid slipped down your throat and he took the glass from you to pour another.

"We'll take this one a bit slower y/n, what do you say?" His eyes darkened slightly, the alcohol clearly having an effect. You couldn't help the warm feeling running through your groin as he licked his lips to clear them of the whiskey remnants that sat on them.

"Whatever you say sir.." he glanced up at you as you said 'sir', and leaned against the desk.

"Sir? Since when did you call me sir?" He tilted his head back slightly, glass swirling in his hand. You sipped your drink and stood to face him, confidence growing. You could see his attraction towards you, and you decided to go with it.

"Since you decided to try and seduce your student... Sir." He swallowed hard, the game clearly up, watching you take a step towards him. Your bodies inches apart, he brought his hand up to rest on your hip, pulling you that little bit closer.

"Probably shouldn't have put kisses on a text to your teacher, then, should you.."

"Probably shouldn't have given me your phone number then, should you.." the air was hot now, your bodies touching gently, your breathing becoming deeper. You brought your hands to his chest, over his shoulders, and he quickly spun you round so you were now sat on his desk. His lips found yours and he ground his hips against your core, your legs parted allowing him access, skirt hitched up to your waist.

"I've wanted you since that first day... Fuck y/n you're beautiful... Sexy... Smart..." He kissed your neck between each word, breathing becoming hot and heavy. Suddenly stopping, he kissed your lips before making his way to the door, turning the key in the lock, before coming back to finish what you started. Unbuttoning your blouse and opening it, his hand snaked around your breasts, underneath the black lace bra. Groaning slightly, he moved his hands lower, down your abdomen.

"Leave as much on as possible... I'm taking you on this desk, right now.. you okay with that?"

"Like I said sir, I don't know if you'll be able to keep up with me.." your leg pushed him away slightly as you stood up, pushing him against the wall. You sank to your knees, taking his trousers and boxer shorts down with them, his cock springing up, twitching, begging for attention. Gasping, he watched you lick a circle around the swollen head, down the shaft, before taking one of his balls into your mouth and sucking lightly. His hand in your hair now, pulling it gently as he groaned. You continued teasing him with your tongue, before taking the tip of his cock into your mouth, giving it a hard suck, releasing it with a pop, sending his head back against the wall.

"Fuck... Take it y/n.. take it down..." You smiled, before sinking your mouth over his cock, all the way down the back of your throat, groaning into it sending shockwaves through him.

"Lets see how much you can take..." You sucked harder, not giving him time to react. Moving your head quickly up and down his shaft, you felt your core begin to leak, you'd never felt as turned on in your life as you did right now. You felt his legs start to shake...

"Yes.. fuck yes... Feels so good baby... Suck it... Harder.. god fuck yes..." His balls tightened, you could feel him trying to pull back but you held him firm with your hands on his hips, willing him to empty into you. "I'm gonna... You might... Jesus.... Fuck...." He came hard, gripping your hair for support as he came hard, you felt his cum shoot in the back of your throat and swallowed as much as you could, some of it spilling down your chin. You pulled your mouth away, holding your mouth slightly open so he could see his cum on your tongue before swallowing it back down.

"That was... My god... Fuck y/n..."

"Oh you will sir, you definitely will. I'm not done with you yet.." you stood up and sat back on the desk, legs parted again to reveal your core to him, completely bare. He didn't see you remove your underwear while you were sucking him, but he wasn't complaining. Gathering himself, he moved to stand between your legs and pulled your lips to his, kissing you passionately, tasting a little of himself in the process and feeling surprisingly aroused from it. He moved his mouth down to your core, running his tongue along your open slot painfully slowly.

"Cillian... Please... Need to cum...."

"You will, baby, oh you will..." You moved your hands to his soft, floppy hair and pulled his face where you needed it. He loved you taking control and took your clit with his tongue, pressing it, rolling it around his tongue as he felt you begin to shake. You lifted a leg onto the desk to give him better access, and he inserted two fingers inside you, tipping them up to meet your g spot deep inside, emitting a sharp cry from you as you three your head back.

"Yes!!! Oh god yes... Right there... Fuck!!" Your hips were involuntarily rolling against his face now, riding his tongue as he brought you more pleasure than you thought was possible. Within minutes, your orgasm was building, and sensing it, he pumped his fingers harder against that one spot that was making you see stars. Three pumps and you came hard against his face, liquid flowing from you like a waterfall, hitting the floor underneath you as you screamed Cillians name. He leaned back on his ankles, watching you coming undone, smiling. Once you'd caught your breath, your eyes fell onto his his.

"Feeling proud of yourself there Mr Murphy?" You smiled. He stood between your thighs again.

"Extremely. But I'm not done with you yet. Turn around y/n." His blue eyes darker now. Your core throbbed, knowing what was coming. Standing up, turning round, you bent over his desk, his hands parting your legs. Taking a condom from his bag behind him, you heard the packet rip open and you rotated your hips, teasing him. He groaned deeply as he started to push his length into you, inch by inch.

"Ohh... Oh god..." You weren't ready for his size, you legs parting as much as possible. Inch by inch he pushed, allowing you to adjust, before bottoming out, his balls resting near your still throbbing clit.

"I'm gonna fuck you hard against this desk, y/n... You're gonna take every thrust like the good girl you are..." You bucked your hips up and he responded by pulling his cock nearly out, and thrusting back in powerfully enough to make you scream his name. Picking up the pace, he leaned over to grab your hair in his hand, giving it a sharp tug as he thrust into you from behind over and over, relentlessly.

"Harder... Cillian harder!!! Fucking... Oh god yes!!!" Loving the sound of your cries and the feel of your pussy contracting around his cock, he knew you were close to another orgasm.

"Rub yourself... Rub your clit baby, make yourself cum for me..." You reached a hand round to your core and found that bundle of nerves. Circling it hard, your orgasm built up again and you swore you saw stars.

"Good girl.... That's it baby... Let it go, I've got you... Let it go...." That was all you needed to hear. You came hard, and he couldn't hold back once he felt your walls contracting round him. "I'm... Oh y/n yes... Yes!" He stilled, you felt his cock pulsate, filling the condom. Both of you breathless, he fell forwards resting against your back.

He pulled out gently, pulling the condom off and disposing of it in the bin, he chuckled slightly.

"Remind me to empty the bin before we leave... I don't think the cleaner will expect to see that in there in the morning!" You laughed too, standing up to face him.

"That was incredible... Just amazing..." You rested your head against his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing your hair gently.

"I enjoyed that too y/n.. and I'd really like to see you again, if you'll let me?"

"I'd like that..." You smiled. You'd convinced yourself if anything happened it would probably be a one time thing, I mean he was a famous actor, what would he want with you? You had no illusions going into this.

"My teaching finishes here in 2 weeks - what do you say I take you out for dinner when it's done?"

"Sounds like a plan Cillian. But am I supposed to stay away until then?"

"Definitely not, y/n, we've still got a few 1-2-1 sessions to squeeze in before I leave..." He leaned down to kiss you, pushing you back against the desk again. His erection pressing against your core again. "It would appear I'm able to keep up after all y/n..."

[chickwiththepurpleguitar]

For a prompt, maybe Bobby having a job in high school where he teaches guitar to kids and Emily and Mitch mistakenly sign Luke up for lessons? (Bobby just doesn't sound like a teenager on the phone) Belated congratulations on the 500 milestone, btw ✨

Here you go, friend! I hope you like it! My first jatp AU fic lol :)

Read on ao3 here:

--

Here’s the thing: Luke already knows how to play the guitar.

Has he ever taken a lesson? Officially? No, of course not, because he’s not a nerd. But he’s been learning from YouTube tutorials for almost six years now, been writing his own stuff for four, been the lead singer and guitarist of an epic, legendary rock band for two. He’d say he’s pretty well covered in the “knowing how to play the guitar” department, without some crusty old guy showing him the chords to songs no one’s listened to since the 60s in the grimy basement of a church two hours a week.

And yet, here he stands, on the sidewalk outside said church, guitar case in hand and a truly menacing grimace on his face, staring up at the hand-painted sign on the door detailing “Guitar lessons for kids! Room B38” in big block letters.

“Well?” Alex, who drove Luke here because Luke is currently not on speaking terms with his mother and father out of pure unadulterated spite, claps a hand on his shoulder, already stifling giggles. “You ready for your lesson, kiddo?”

“I will kick you out of the band,” Luke threatens.

“Then you can walk home.” Alex jingles his keys teasingly, then tugs Luke into a quick hug. “Come on, man, I think it was a nice gesture. Try to make the most of it, at least your parents are trying.”

Right, because the whole reason Luke’s here is because his mom thought the lessons would be a good reward for Luke passing all his classes this semester. Because she heard him complaining that Sunset Curve needed a rhythm guitarist to fill out their sound and decided that meant he needed to learn how to do it himself, even though Luke tried to explain to her that he couldn’t play rhythm guitar and face-melting solos at the same time.

Of course, she didn’t listen, and then his dad found a flyer for this guy Robert giving lessons out of the local church, and before Luke could say no, the first month’s worth were already paid for and he didn’t have a choice.

And he supposes Alex is sort of right. At least his parents know what a guitar is. At least they’re trying to be somewhat, relatively supportive of his music, instead of pushing him to apply to college or get a job over the summer like they did constantly until he ran away for six months after Christmas and almost died (he’s fine now, but that near-death experience really changed his parents’ tune).

At least they actually acknowledge that he’s in a band at all, unlike Alex’s folks, whose friends think Alex volunteers at homeless shelters in his free time, or Reggie’s, who just don’t care.

Luke knows he’s got it good, compared to his friends, compared to himself a year ago. But that doesn’t mean he’s gotta be happy about it.

“All right, I’ll pick you up in an hour,” Alex says, giving Luke’s shoulder another friendly squeeze. “Try not to pout so much, it’s unbecoming.”

Luke gives him the finger, and Alex’s laughter echoes behind him as he heads back toward his car.

And then Luke sighs, grips his guitar a little tighter, and heads inside. He’s already here, he might as well get it over with.

Room B38 is a tiny classroom deep in the bowels of the church, reserved for Sunday School or daycare or some other such activity. The door’s closed, so Luke knocks, and a voice from inside calls, “Come in!”

A voice that does not sound like it belongs to the crusty old man Luke had been picturing.

He frowns, wondering if maybe he’s in the wrong place, but tugs the door open anyway and maneuvers himself and his guitar inside.

There’s no crusty old man waiting for him. There is, however, a handsome (Luke can’t help noticing and then feels stupid for noticing), young man, no more than a year or two older than Luke at most, sitting in a comically small plastic chair and tuning an acoustic guitar.

“Hey,” Luke greets him, raising an awkward hand. “You’re… Robert?”

“Please—Bobby,” the guy corrects, laying his guitar down on the carpeted floor next to him so he can stand and shake Luke’s hand. There’s a gleam of confusion in his eyes, and he glances over Luke’s shoulder like he’s looking for something as he says, “You must be Luke’s… older brother?”

Oh, Luke is going to kill his parents. “Uh, no,” he says, clears his throat awkwardly. “No, um… I’m Luke.”

Bobby lets out an undignified snort, and then claps his hand over his mouth. “Sorry, sorry,” he says, still sort of giggling. “I shouldn’t laugh, it’s just—most of my students are in the four to twelve age range? I thought you’d be, like, eight.”

Luke rolls his eyes. “Well, I thought you’d be, like, sixty, so I guess we’re both disappointed.”

“Not disappointed,” Bobby corrects, and his smile makes Luke’s stomach flip in a way he’d really rather not analyze too closely right now. Bobby nods down at the guitar case in Luke’s hand. “Should we get started?”

Luke’s tongue feels dumb and thick in his mouth, but he manages to stammer something vaguely affirmative, and Bobby grins at him.

They settle into the kiddy chairs across from each other, and Bobby picks his guitar back up while Luke pulls his own out of its case.

He briefly considers pretending to actually need guitar lessons so that Bobby will have a chance to show off, because Bobby’s cute and funny and clearly cares about music, and Luke doesn’t know how to flirt.

But Luke also doesn’t know how to play guitar badly. So they only get about twenty minutes into the lesson before Bobby stops and says, “You don’t need me, do you?”

“I really don’t,” Luke apologizes. “I play lead guitar in a band, I’ve been teaching myself since I was twelve, my parents are just—” he starts to say stupid, then remembers Alex’s words and amends—“a little clueless about this kind of thing.”

Bobby puts his guitar aside and leans forward in his chair. “What, have they never heard you play before?”

Luke resists the urge to roll his eyes. “No, they have, they just. We’re looking for someone—my band and me—to play rhythm guitar for us? My parents asked why I couldn’t do it, and when I explained it to them, they thought ‘I can’t play lead and rhythm at the same time’ meant I couldn’t play rhythm at all. I don’t know.” He shrugs a little, busies himself with putting his guitar back in its case.

“I could.”

Luke looks up, frowning. “You could what?”

Bobby raises his eyebrows pointedly, nods at the guitar lying at his feet. “Play with you guys. If you’re still looking for someone, I mean.”

Luke’s heart skips a beat, and a warm smile spreads across his face without his permission. “Seriously, man? That’d be amazing! Here, let me give you my number and you can come over sometime and meet the band.”

They exchange information, and Luke spends a little too long staring stupidly at the contact in his phone that Bobby has named “Guitar Teacher <3”.

“Plus,” Bobby says, and Luke looks back up to see him smirking as he returns his own phone to his pocket. “Now I get an excuse to see you again. Since you obviously don’t need the lessons.”

“Yeah,” Luke agrees. “Yeah, I’d really like that.”

“But, uh, maybe don’t tell your parents that. Cause I can’t give them a refund.”

--

Taglist: @whenweremarried @sunsethimb0s @pink-flame @penguin0613 @fighttoshine @sunsetcurvecuddles @apples-bees @reggiescrookedteeth @brightattheorpheum @queenmolina @jandthephantoms @lexilucacia @sapphossidechick @acnhaddict @shrimp-colours @sunset-bobby @lenacarstairspotterstewart @conversationaltreestump @burntchromas @shellydominique @julieandthequeers @joyandthephantoms @it-tastes-like-lizard

[caribbean-ace]

Station 19 5x07 is back folks and better than ever! After a 3 week hiatus we’re now on the road to some interesting stuff happening. Something came up and i couldn’t catch the episode live BUT i’ve decided to stay a little late to watch it. As usual spoiler alert so let’s hit it:

1. I’m so excited omg i can’t even. Now, onto the stuff happening here: badass firefighters + someone hug Jack please :( + someone hug Vic pls :( + lmao Travis ass is hurting + “your better half” YES + ugh the guys at 23 + Duval is just gonna suck it up? + poor Andy she’s being tortured by working there + Travic is the cutest + BRO WHAT I WAS NOT WAITING THAT AND I KNEW IT HAPPENED + “we’re making a baby” when she says it like that it sounds hot + i can’t i can’t i can’t Carina Deluca will kill me + i dislike Dean’s parents so much

2. Can they have Pru? They are such good parents they should raise her + Bailey is one of the best characters of the Grey’s Anatomy ‘verse by far + oh so this is how they mess up the bathroom + Jack is walking a very delicate line, i hope he gets help + now we know where Travis got his temper + i hope Andy makes them run Maya’s drills😂 + that actually looks therapeutic + i’m scared for them

3. OH MY GOD NO SHIRTS + THE FINGER BITE CARINA + MAYA’S BACK AND EVERYTHING WHAT I NEED HELP + it’s hard to switch from the horny scene to this sad scene😭 + oh Sullivan… well i just hope this doesn’t affect Ruiz and Hughes relationship + imagine Ben and Miranda being in love with baby Pru and just giving her all their love😭 yayyy they are fighting for her😭 hopefully they get to keep her😍

4. Maddox is going to do something stupid i sense it + i hate they are so defensive for no reason + i get they are hurt but they just disrespect Dean at every turn + go off Bailey! You’re right + Duval is going to learn the hard way her lesson just to play it cool with the “boys”

5. They are so drunk it’s just borderline dangerous + oh boy we’re back with these two horny wives😂 + Carina mocking Maya is the best + i am so distracted by the minimun clothing that is going on here + the look of adoration from Maya to Carina😍😍😍 + i’m crying😭😭😭 they are so in love it hurts + oh chocolate and sex don’t mix that good, infections are real dude💀 + come on andy you can do this! + Travis’ mom is so perfect let’s protect her at all costs

6. Oh my lord please don’t make this a thing don’t + we don’t need more messy love triangles + on the other hand marina has been having mindblowing sex for the last two days + ohhh andy paralleling maya in season 3 + go andy! I love how she finally placed Maddox where he needed to be + ohhhhh noooooo😭😭😭😭 baby Pru already knows she’s so pretty i can’t even😭 + ah marina picking up donors😭 + poor Travis his family deserves better + andy is looking hella fine working out + i dislike Sullivan because he’s only having an angle all the time + oh that came out earlier than expected + for whatever reason i thought he was going to find out some other way.

Anyways that is the end of my rambling while watching the episode! Good comeback from those three weeks, for the marina scenes i’d say it was worth it every second, finally we have them in scenes that feel more intimate (in the physical aspect because they do have that emotional intimacy). Dealing with the angst and the battle that will follow for Pru’s custody is going to be hard plus Dean’s best friends dealing with his loss it can be too much. I don’t even want to think too much about Jack and Vic, maybe it would stay as a slip up and nothing more. Good for Andy and stepping up like her father taught her, Maya and Captain Herrera would be so proud of her now🥲 and last but not least Travis’ family dealing with all those feelings and resentment, it’s hard to someone like Travis’ father to think that being gay it’s wrong only to discover that you happen to be gay too, rejecting your family for something that you thought it was “bad” or “evil”. It’s pretty hard to just forgive someone and pretend it never happened, they just need to own their mistakes and try to move on as slow as they can.

Banger episode i’m so ready for next week’s episode, i’m treating this one as a early birthday gift so i enjoyed plenty, i hope you have enjoyed too!

[numberonephantompizza1]

Poppy Fanfic: “Ask Her”

For context: This is a fanfic I wrote in order to join the Poppy Milk dev team and show off my writing skills. Since the callout at the time said we’d need to write a lot of sidequests, I wanted to ask the question of what a Poppy-centered side-quest would be like. I got the idea that it would be from an Asker’s perspective, and everything sort of came naturally after that. Even though I’m on the dev team right now, it’s not canon to Omega Timeline: Poppy’s Story and even has some inaccuracies that contradict canon. With that said, please feel free to read the story below the cut.

---

You noticed something very different inside your room when you woke up. The lights were off and the sun hadn’t yet risen, but there was a certain… aura, coming from your door. You were filled with a certain trepidation, but… you approached it. It was hard to see in the light, but it looked… grey. 

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you stepped through...

...and found about the last person you would’ve expected. The spitting image of Frisk - CORE!Frisk, that was, looking up at you, in the middle of a white void.

“Wh- You’re real?!” you asked, dumbfounded.

“Of course I’m real. Have you been taking all this multiverse stuff for granted? Everything is real somewhere,” Core answered, simply. 

“I… I don’t… and you, me…” you panted, starting to feel a small panic attack coming on.

“Focus,” Core snapped their fingers, grounding you back in reality. Okay, this was happening now.

“Let’s get down to business. Simply: you don’t like me. And I don’t like you. But we BOTH like Poppy. Poppy, my dear, sweet angel… has unfortunately recently come to the realization that Askers ALSO exist in the multiverse. And now she wants to do a ‘meet n’ greet’ with one of her fans. Trust me, I TRIED to talk her out of it, but she can be darn persuasive when she wants to be. And as you’re now realizing, that’s where you come in. 

“I wanna make you a deal. You play along with whatever Poppy wants until she gets bored of this. If you’re on your best behavior - and that means, don’t give her anything bad, don’t tell her anything you KNOW she shouldn’t know, don’t use any magic, and be a general good influence - if you play nice, in exchange, I will allow you to hang out with ANY resident of the Omega Timeline. 

“Want to spend a day full of wacky hijinks with a Papyrus, or even an Underswap Sans? Consider it done. Want to know how Deltarune Chapter 2 plays out ahead of time? I know a Susie with your name on it. Whatever you want, so long as you play by the rules, and don’t ask for anyone obviously ridiculous. So… do we have ourselves a deal?”

You contemplated that offer, and everything that was happening, trying to suppress your inner urge to geek out for just a few moments. The Omega Timeline, Poppy, and all the AU’s you could think of and more were real. And you just got an invitation to visit them.

“Yeah, of course!” you nodded excitedly, though your enthusiasm only seemed to make Core more anxious.

“Don’t make me regret this…” Core sighed, as the whiteness seemed to melt away into a cozy-looking house with wooden floors and lime walls, where you were standing directly outside of a white door. Core seemed to have disappeared.

Technically, there was nothing stopping you from exploring. So you did just that. You walked up to a shelf with some family photos. One was a photo of Poppy, Core, Dusted and Rust all together, in some meadow, looking happy. At least, you assumed Dusted and Rust were happy, they didn’t show up well on camera. There was another photo of Poppy alone, looking somewhat younger than she did on the blog, seated on a chair in a photo that looked far more staged. She held an actual poppy flower in her hand and smiled brightly.

You opened the cabinet doors, curious of what knick-knacks you might find in there. Some crayons, a few random glass cups, some art by 3-year-old Poppy that was so poorly done its meaning was hard to decipher, and a locked box. You reached for the box--

“Getting a bit sidetracked, aren’t we?”

You jolted up, and faced Core behind you. Even though they were child-sized, they crossed their arms with the poise and authority of a stern parent. You laughed anxiously. “Ahahaha… ahaha… ha……..”

“...Strike one.” Core said, and vanished. The meaning of that was all-too clear. Deciding not to dilly dally any longer, you went to the room you suspected to be Poppy’s, and knocked. 

“Just a sec!” Poppy said, and opened the door. She looked up at you, and gasped. “Wow, Granpa really did come through…!” She twirled excitedly. “You must be my adoring fan, aren’t you?” she asked.

You stared down at the girl in stunned silence.

“To be honest, I kinda figured you’d be some gray guy with sunglasses, but that’s kinda silly in hindsight. How you doin’?” She asked that last line in a mock accent as you continued to stare.

“Baby,” you said.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you quickly tried to change the subject. “Yeah, it’s… y’know, it’s great to be here…” You clasped your hands together, biting your lip. You were in an Undertale AU, faced with the AU granddaughter of another AU character. You still weren’t entirely over that. Was this fever dream? Fandom heaven, or fandom hell?

“I know! Once I heard you guys weren’t from the Omega Timeline, I realized I hadn’t met even ONE of my fans… even if you guys are super annoying some of the time.” 

“Uhhh, yeah…” you wondered if you should apologize on behalf of the askers who put Poppy in the hospital that one time. Then again, it seemed kind of awkward, and it might have been best not to bring that up while Core was watching, which was always. Looking down at the cutesy girl, it was almost tempting to pull her into a hug, but you managed to keep your composure. 

“I wanted to do something a little more special than just some sorta interview, though, because you ask me questions all the time anyways,” Poppy said. “Granpa said you’ve never been to the Omega Timeline before, so I wanna give you the big tour!” Poppy went to the door. “I’m gonna be outside when you’re ready!” She left the room.

Seeing the empty room in front of you, you were tempted to snoop again, but you’d learned your lesson after last time. You headed straight out after Poppy.

You couldn’t help but gasp in awe of the serenity of the great outdoors as you were beckoned to it. You’d been outside before, obviously, but everything just looked so… nice. The blue sky, the grassy grounds, the ornate buildings… you’ve seen this place in pixel art and a couple drawings before, but seeing it with your own eyes was another story. And the next thing for you to nearly faint at was seeing the Undertale characters running around, Sanses, Undynes, Frisks, even goat moms. 

Poppy smiled. “...It’s nice, isn’t it? I KNEW taking you on a tour was a good idea.” She smirked. “Now remember, just because this is a meet-up doesn’t mean it’s free, and there WILL be a fee at the end of our ride.”

“...Uh… I left my wallet at home,” you said, patting your pockets, “And I don’t have any, uh... ‘G,’ I think. Unless the G stands for ‘Gratitude,’ amiright?” you did finger guns.

“G stands for Gold,” Poppy corrected you bluntly, unamused. She returned to her chipper attitude just as quickly, though. “Now, let me show you around!” She led you down the street. 

Walking with her, seeing so many versions of your favorite characters in the flesh, walking around… well, the temptation to talk to SOME of them was irresistible, Core be damned. You did resolve not to go too far off-track, but you shared some words with the folks you passed by, Poppy thankfully stopping each time you did. You met two Frisks - one boy, one ambiguous - an Underswap Undyne, a human version of Toriel, and surprisingly, a version of Princess Peach.

You and Poppy approached an elegant fountain, stood upon proudly by a statue of a mustachio’d CORE!Frisk. “This is the Timeline Plaza! It’s sort of the local park, where people meet up to do... stuff. Just hang out. Make a picnic. Play ball. All that good park-y stuff, y’know? And there’s stores in all directions, so it’s pretty good.” She proudly showed off her home to you, with a smile.

You talked to more on the way to the next place. An Inverted Fate Papyrus. A weird Ralsei who said his name was “Noyno.” An Asgore wearing a hoodie, who you assumed was swapped with Sans. (Poppy did scold you a little bit for this, telling you that just because someone has a hoodie you shouldn’t assume they’re swapped. You apologized.)

“This is Grillby’s! One of them, anyways. The nearest one to my house. It’s pretty good if you want an OK burger. Sanses love the place, though. It’s… kind of unhealthy. And a little gross.” Poppy said. “Especially when they just drink… raw… ketchup.”

“Can’t handle a little ketchup?” you smiled mischievously. “We drink it by the gallon back in my universe,” you lied.

“...I really hope you’re joking,” Poppy said, alarmed.

“Am I?” you smiled brighter.

“...W-well, we’re not going in there, so you can FORGET about drinking that much ketchup!” Poppy said, afraid of the sheer power of your ketchup-drinking.

You and Poppy moved onto the next spot. You met an Underswap Alphys who seemed to be trapped in a red-and-gold palette. You met a robot dressed as a circus ringmaster, who claimed to be a Chara. You met a Dummy dressed in a Frisk shirt. (You didn’t assume it was swapped with Frisk this time, which turned out to be a mistake, because it was.) Poppy stared at you awkwardly now, wondering why you were talking to all these random strangers. Finally, you and Poppy reached your next destination.

“The theater! Where we show off all the greatest hits! Including MY movie, which, not to brag, but it’s--”

Except, you’d been distracted by a hyperdeath Asriel, and were ignoring Poppy for the moment.

“...” Poppy spoke up. “That’s what I don’t get about you.”

“Huh?” that seemed to wake you up, and you looked at her. 

“Everytime it’s always, ‘have you met Underswap Sans,’ or ‘have you met JangoTale Frisk,’ or some other weird thing. You always ask that. But… they’re just people. Why do you always assume I know some random Sans or Frisk or someone?”

“I…” you were a bit taken aback. “...I don’t… we don’t assume you know them, they’re just… they’re just important.” 

“Important?” She asked. “...I-I mean, yeah, EVERYONE’s important, but, I don’t really get what you mean…”

“They’re all--” You paused, trying to collect your thoughts, think of everything you knew from the blog, and tried to actually talk to her. “...They’re like friends to me. Kinda.”

“...You guys are friends with them? I thought you were stuck in your world…” she frowned.

“No, it’s like-- I’m not ‘friends’ with Underswap Frisk, or-- or Storyshift Frisk, or Shifty or whatever, I’m just friends with… Frisk.”

...Poppy stared at you like you just said the ground was turning to jelly, or something equally bafflingly inane. “...I… think you’re confused. Look, sometimes newcomers struggle with this. Your Frisk isn’t the only Frisk--”

“I know! It’s… You don’t get it. This world, these worlds are so special and creative, and they mean a lot to me. I know we can be really edgy, and I know we ask weird questions about Dusted and Rust, but that’s all because… because...” you paused.

Poppy looked, seeming upset about hearing her siblings mentioned in the context of ‘edgy’ questions, not seeing what you were seeing. Core, standing behind her, holding up a hand signal.

The number two.

You were getting carried away. You overstepped.

“...Um… I’m sorry.” You pulled her into a hug as Core vanished. “There’s really no reason for us to ask those questions. We can just be dumb sometimes.”

“...” She hugged back. “Yeah, it’s okay. I knew you guys were super weird and dumb before I convinced Granpa to let you in here, so I guess I should’ve seen this coming,” Poppy smiled, regaining her confidence as you did your best to not be offended at being called weird and dumb.

“Okay! I think I have just one last stop in mind to cap this tour off on a high note! Literally, hehehe…” She giggled mischievously. This time, you didn’t stop to talk to others, following her directly as you approached a peak overlooking the town. For yet another time, and probably the last, you couldn’t help but ogle at the town’s beauty. “Pretty good, right?” She sat down.

“Ha… with all the climbing, I was worried we’d fall down a mountain,” you joked. Poppy seemed to roll her eyes, as you sat beside her. “...I guess I get how you can call this place home. I mean, once I stop nerding out, anyways. You don’t see stuff like this in my… reality.”

“Just gallons and gallons of ketchup, huh?” she commented. You couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Yeah.”

And you two just stared into the distance for a while. ...She wasn’t just a character. She was a human being.

...Or, technically just a ‘being,’ scratch the human part. Still, you felt a bit desensitized to all this. And so did she. You related in that way.

“I can’t say you exactly passed with flying colors, but you fulfilled your end of the agreement well enough.”

Without any warning, you were back in a white void with CORE!Frisk, just like before. You almost forgot about the deal you made, what with all the time you spent with Poppy. You stood.

“Uh… yeah. So, my reward…” you drifted off, remembering the offer Core gave you. The chance to meet just about any AU character of your imagining… or at least, any that would be peaceful enough to be in the Omega Timeline. Which still left a WIDE variety of options…

Who did you want to see? What mattered most to you?

...

Thinking deeply… you told Core their name.

“...Oh. Really? Well, I guess it makes sense for you that you’d want to see them,” Core remarked. “I can’t guarantee they’ll give you what you’re looking for, but a deal’s a deal. Let’s head off.”

You and Core went somewhere else.

---

And that’s all she wrote! If you read this far, thank you. Working on the game since then has been fun, and I think you’ll like what we have in store. Until then, ciao.

[karezzasstuff]

SPIRITUAL Buddha

INFORMATION ABOUT LIFE AND THAT THINGS A PEOPLE NEEDS SOMETIMES

HOW TANTRA BRINGS YOUR INTENSE TOGETHER

"Cumshot is not important, but the contact with each other": how tantra gives you a more intense sex life

“In tantra sex, we slow down, feel and enjoy everything that happens in the body and learn to surf the waves of ecstasy that trigger all those feelings all over your body.” The lockdown forced us to slow down, with more time for ourselves and each other. And that makes tantra more relevant than ever. The Eastern attitude to life ensures a better connection with yourself and a more intense sex life. Expert Inge Leemans explains how this works and how you can use it yourself in bed, together or alone. “You create a deeper desire and a fuller orgasm.

”When you hear the word 'tantra', you may think of a couple in bed who - with or without the guidance of a dubious guru - do their best to slow down the orgasm before the explosion. Duh, you think. Why should I inflict such harm on myself? Expert Inge Leemans of Rising Heart (Inge gives tantric workshops and initiation lessons to both singles and couples, ed.) immediately dismisses this assumption as a misunderstanding.

“Tantra is about much more than sex. It is an Eastern way of life over a thousand years old that contains 112 meditation techniques, only four of which deal with sexuality. You can use tantra to breathe more consciously, walk, eat and drink ... In the West, the sexual aspect of tantra does play a greater role, that's right. But even then it is not necessarily about delaying an orgasm.”

Tantra is used therapeutically: think of couples with an unsatisfactory sex life, but also of people who suffer from stress.Inge Leemans, Rising Heart

“Tantra offers you possibilities to create an expansion of consciousness through sexuality. Tantra is a loving life path that does not focus on 'must' but on 'may'. And that has benefits that extend far beyond the bedroom. A tantric attitude to life ensures that you become more aware of what is happening inside and outside your body, so that you channel energy more easily to what really matters and thus more easily let go of what is not important. This way you get closer to your unique self. And don't we all want that?”

Greater meaning

Inge Leemans: “On the one hand, Tantra is used therapeutically when a specific problem arises: for example, couples with an unsatisfactory sex life, but also for people who suffer from stress. On the other hand, there are also many people who seek meaning. In that case Tantra can provide a deeper fulfillment of life, for a greater spiritual connection.”

“People are increasingly searching. While in the past we were mainly concerned with survival – our grandparents had to put bread on the table – today we live in a society in which our basic needs are met and we can afford to go in search of greater consciousness. That also explains the success of tantra and other forms of meditation.”

slow sex

Let's talk about sex. The promise of tantra sex means that we feel more like making love and experience more intense orgasms. And leave those two things high on many a female wish list.

Inge Leemans: “Most people experience sex from a state of tension and excitement, with the aim of discharging. People prefer to make love when they are in love and when there is sexual attraction. In this way, dopamine (happiness hormone) is released, something to which we become addicted. That can be a pitfall. In any relationship, the strong attraction wears off after a while and then many couples turn to attributes or other partners—quick fixes—to recreate that same feeling.”

With tantra sex we slow down, feel and enjoy everything that happens in the body.Inge Leemans, Rising Heart

“Tantrace sex works more on oxytocin (love hormone). You achieve this by caressing, cuddling, looking each other in the eye. Tantra sex therefore does not necessarily start from tension and sexual drive, but from relaxation and love. It's not about cumming, it's about the contact itself. When you make love – with yourself or with someone else – from a feeling of relaxation and not under the pressure of the tension you feel in your pelvis, oxygen and blood will spread better throughout your body and not just centralize in that pelvis. .”

“With tantra sex we slow down, feel and enjoy everything that happens in the body (all emotions are welcome) and we learn to surf the waves of ecstasy that trigger all those feelings all over your body. This way you will feel a greater connection with the world around you, create a deeper desire and experience a fuller orgasm.”

Tantra @ home

Would you like to start it yourself? Inge Leemans developed some simple exercises for singles and couples. They improve your mental well-being and your sexual appetite.

ONLY1. meditate. Sit down and focus your attention on the inside of your body: What is bubbling in your stomach? How is your breathing? Do you feel strong? … Let all the feelings come in. That seems simple, but it isn't. Our head is alert to external stimuli and our mind is constantly wandering. It is important to be aware of this and to return to your body every time. Try to meditate for ten minutes a day.

2. Love yourself. Self-love is not the same as masturbation, where we try to reach arousal and climax as quickly as possible. Self-love is about love for your body without a goal, it's about contact with your body itself. Instead of taking a quick shower to get clean, feel intensely lathering yourself and then rinsing. And instead of masturbating to cum, caress yourself and discover how those touches feel on your skin. Do not touch yourself directly on the erogenous zones, but invite other sensations by touching your body lovingly in other places. Take breaks when the excitement gets too great. At some point, your body takes over and you create so-called valley orgasms, where you feel contractions and ecstasy all over your body and not just in your vagina.

TOGETHER1. Embrace each other. A hug in rest mode, five minutes a day. You are not comforting or coveting, but just embracing, both of you breathing calmly. This exercise is important for your bond of love. Release the oxytocin.

2. Look into each other's eyes. Sit opposite each other in silence and stare into each other's eyes for five minutes. Try to bring some of your attention into your body (what am I feeling?) and some of the attention into the contact (I see you). For some couples it feels familiar, for others it is very uncomfortable. Then share your feelings: Did you feel your heart opening? Did you find it boring? Did you feel relaxed? Did you miss connection?

3. Link! When exercise 2 feels comfortable, you can move on to the next step. When you link or communicate in a connecting way, you each take turns describing what you perceive while looking at the other. Not: 'Your hair looks good today'. Well: 'Looking at you makes me happy' or 'I feel a certain distance between us'. Always from yourself and from the question: 'What does this do to me?'

4. The meditative touch. With a tantra touch you again put half of the attention in your own body, and that turns out to be a major shift for many. Usually people are purposeful in their touches. We touch someone in the hope that they will like it, or get excited. This time you touch someone solely for the sake of the contact itself. Instead of thinking 'What does that touch do to the other person?', you feel what that touch does to you.

5. Predict. Touch each other sensually and carefully, but avoid the erogenous zones or you will quickly relapse into a pattern of rapid arousal. This works wonders especially for the female body. Do this for at least 20 minutes.

6. Tantra sex. When you feel a lot of excitement, it is advisable to take enough breaks so that you are always in the moment. This also applies if you are already entwined. While making love, make eye contact, breathe together and take the time to go back into your body and feel the waves. Try to hold that awareness of your body for longer and longer. Remember: practice makes perfect and with an open mind you will achieve more. If your urge for sensation is too great or if you have little feeling for spirituality, then tantra is not obvious. Tantra is the turning from sensation to the sensitive. Those who can make the sensory switch will after a while feel ecstasy throughout the body and enjoy a deeply fulfilling feeling.'

SOURCE: https://www.hln.be/seks-en- Relaties/maken-is-niet-belangrijk-wel-het-contact-met-elkaar-hoe-tantra-je-een-intenser-seksleven-bezorgt~ ad288dce/

I can write endlessly about tantra. Because as I always start who hears tantra thinks of the word sex. No folks it's much more than that. Is more than those minutes when you cum. Tantra is enjoying body and mind. Is conveying feelings to each other. Touch plays an important role here. But also looking and your breathing. Looking and touching is feeling. Your breathing is calming your body. This way you bring each other to a different level to experience something. It is sharing with each other and this with an open feeling. It is therefore important that you start with yourself and your own body. Only if you know that, then you can also pass this on. Tantra is not focused on cumming but on enjoying each other. Intense enjoyment out of full love. When people feel the need for sex it comes down to one thing. cumming and who often cums the man. The woman is sometimes left with a lot of unanswered feeling. That is why I think it is good that such a text is sometimes published in booklets. And then one can only hope those who read it read it in a different way. The way of feeling and feeling.

Here's a site where the best books can be found; https://hetnlpcollege.nl/beste-tantra-boeken/

I have a few of these on my bookshelf myself.

People know that tantra is more than sex.

Know that you are working with your whole body.

Know that it has to do with your senses and those of the other.

Know that you must first know your own body.

And can you share that.

That Tantra is spiritual practice to increase your consciousness and to bring the masculine and feminine energies together. Tantra is the key to sexual pleasure and mental strength, obtained through rituals.

AUM NAMASTE BUDDHA BRUNO

Om Shanthi,

one must be able to connect spiritual and earthly

AUM MANI PADME HUM

#yabyum #joy #karezza #nirvana #yoga #love #meditation #unconditionallove #tantra #maithuna

[lilyvandersteen]

The Christmas Guest Chapter 10

Author’s Note: Here’s Blaine’s point of view of the kiss and what comes after. Fluff galore. Enjoy!

Read Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4 and Chapter 5, the Interlude, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8 and Chapter 9 here on Tumblr, or read the story on AO3 or FF.net.

Chapter 10: Part of the Family

As soon as Blaine’s lips touched Kurt’s, he felt Kurt freeze for a moment, but just when he wanted to draw back and apologize, Kurt let out the softest sigh and melted against him. He also started kissing back, and held Blaine as if he’d never let go again. It made Blaine completely forget where he was and why. All that existed was Kurt, and how he felt, and how he tasted, and how he made Blaine’s head whirl with the simplest touch.

Blaine had no idea how much time had passed when the two of them were jolted apart by another party-goer, but it was not nearly long enough. He blinked hazily at Kurt, who looked as kiss-drunk as Blaine felt, and then at the people around them, who were… counting?

Oh. Right. New Year. Oh, brilliant, then we can kiss some more!

As soon as everybody started yelling Happy New Year, Blaine kissed Kurt again, reveling in the fact that he could, and that Kurt seemed to welcome his attentions. They needed to talk about this, yes, but first… First, he was going to enjoy this!

Again, he had to stop before he was ready to, this time because one of Kurt’s friends took offence to their PDA. They were quickly defended by Kurt’s other friends, but Blaine could tell Kurt felt uncomfortable, so he didn’t protest when Kurt wanted to go home, though he was a bit apprehensive about the conversation they would be having once they were back in Kurt’s room. Had he overstepped Kurt’s boundaries without realizing? Had Kurt only kissed back to keep up appearances? Surely, Blaine couldn’t have misread the situation that badly?

He chanced a quick glance at Kurt, who hadn’t said a word since they left the party, but his face was unreadable. He was shivering, though, and at once, Blaine’s preoccupations flew out of his head and he only thought of warming up Kurt.

In thanks for his efforts, Kurt sent him a glowing smile, which kept Blaine going until they were back in Kurt’s bedroom, putting their pajamas on, still in silence. By the time Blaine slipped into bed, his skin was skittering with all the feelings and words cooped up inside of him. As he cuddled up to Kurt, he couldn’t keep it all in anymore, and he burst out into an apology – right at the same time as Kurt started talking.

Well, not so much talking as asking for an explanation. Which was only fair, of course. Only… What answer did he expect? Could Blaine be honest and tell Kurt he’d tumbled head over heels in love with him? Would he dare?

Blaine hedged a bit, but Kurt pressed on, and his resistance crumbled. He could no more lie to Kurt than he could to himself. And maybe it was crazy to feel this way about someone he’d only known for a few days, but if by some miracle, Kurt felt the same way, maybe they could try dating for real?

He didn’t have to wait long for an answer. Kurt’s lips found his, and his heart leapt happily. Yes!

K&B

When Blaine woke up the next morning, Kurt was still deeply asleep, his head on Blaine’s bicep and his arm thrown over Blaine’s chest.

Blaine smiled up at the ceiling, happier than he could remember ever being, and enjoying this quiet private time holding Kurt in his arms.

This Christmas break had been nothing like he’d expected, but it had been everything he needed. Relaxing. A slice of home and family. Scrumptious food and fun pastimes. And most importantly: Kurt.

My boyfriend.

Oh, it felt good to think those words and know they were finally true. It felt so right. Like it had from the very beginning, when Kurt sat down next to him on the plane, and Blaine had smiled at him as though they’d known each other forever.

Well, maybe in another life they had.

Blaine heard floorboards creak, and a second later, Burt’s head peeped in.

“Good morning!” Blaine whispered. “And Happy New Year!”

“Kurt still asleep?”

“Dead to the world.”

“Glad you got home okay. Did Finn’s girl sleep over too?”

“Yes. We were all exhausted.”

“That late?”

“Just after midnight. That’s late enough for me.”

Burt hummed in assent. “Well, come down to breakfast if you can pry Mr. Koala loose. Carole’s making blueberry pancakes.”

That made Blaine’s mouth water. He looked down at Kurt sleeping peacefully, and then back at Burt, torn.

Burt chuckled. “Or not. You can always whip up a batch yourself later, if you want a bit of a lie-in. But no shenanigans, you hear me?”

Blaine nodded, and the door closed again.

Blaine closed his eyes and softly stroked Kurt’s hair.

“What time izzit?” came a sleepy inquiry.

Blaine smiled and told Kurt, “Way too early for you. Go back to sleep, sweetie.”

Kurt curled into him like a contented cat, rubbing his head against Blaine’s hand. “Feels good when you do that.”

So Blaine kept up his gentle caresses until Kurt’s face went slack, and he nodded off again himself a while later.

By the time they made their way downstairs, it was past ten o’clock, and Blaine’s stomach was rumbling in protest.

“Morning, sleepyheads,” said Carole. “Burt’s off to work already, and Finn finished all the pancakes, I’m afraid. I swear he’s got some sixth sense for food cooking. Always shows up seconds after the pan starts sizzling.”

Kurt yawned. “No worries, Carole, we’ll fend for ourselves. Are there still eggs?”

Twenty minutes later, Finn came into the kitchen, sniffing like a dog. “Is that cinnamon toast I smell?”

Blaine hid a smile. Carole had spoken the absolute truth. Finn had shown up not even a minute after the first toast had hit the pan.

Kurt swatted at Finn with the spatula. “Out! Yes, it’s cinnamon toast, and no, you can’t have any. You’ve already had breakfast, and you finished your own as well as ours, says Carole.”

“I was hungry!”

“Well, now WE are hungry and don’t want to share. Clear out!”

“Aw, come on!”

“Maybe that works on Cathy, but not on me. What did you do, swipe half of her pancake while she was talking to Carole?”

“No! She had a whole one herself. And then she let me finish her second one.”

Kurt fake-swooned. “Aw, true love! Where’s Cathy, anyway?”

Finn pouted. “She went home already. Said she still had tons of work to do. Lessons to prepare. For next week.”

“Well, at least one of you takes their studies seriously. Why don’t you take her good example and get some work done as well? Not much else to do, ‘cause Puck and the other New Directions will be hungover, and Blaine and I will be packing because we’re going back to New York.”

“Hang on, you’re leaving today?”

That was news to Blaine too. His plane ticket back to New York was for two days later, as he didn’t have class until Tuesday afternoon. Still, he could try and get his flight rebooked. He just wished he’d known a bit earlier.

As soon as Finn had left the kitchen, Blaine asked Kurt what flight he was taking, and then spent a good half hour on the phone to sort things out. When he hung up with a triumphant smile, having scored not only the flight but also the exact seat he wanted, Kurt shook his head, smirking.

“When you start pouring on the charm, I don’t think anyone could say no to you if they tried.”

Blaine cocked his head to the side and moved a bit closer. “Hmm… You can’t say no to me? Now that’s interesting…”

Kurt squeaked in apprehension  – actually squeaked, and Blaine grinned.

Kurt’s chin went up. “I’ll learn to say no. So there. I’ll become immune, after a while.”

Blaine’s grin widened. “I wouldn’t be too sure, if I were you.”

“Oh, hush you!”

“Make me.”

And then he lost both his words and his grin when Kurt grabbed his head and kissed him.

They didn’t stop kissing until Finn came stomping into the kitchen looking for a snack, and asked, “Weren’t you going to pack?”

When Burt drove them to the airport that evening, he looked at Blaine in the rear-view mirror – they’d opted to both sit in the back again – and asked, “So are you sad you didn’t get to spend the holidays with your own folks, bud?”

Blaine squeezed Kurt’s hand, looked at him with all his love showing, and answered, “Not a bit. I had a marvelous time. Again, thank you so much for your hospitality.”

“Happy to have you, kid. Feel free to tag along every year from now on. We’ve all accepted you as part of the family.”

Blaine felt ridiculously close to tears, even as the corners of his mouth curved up, and could not manage a response. It made him happy to be so accepted, yet he felt guilty, too, for deceiving Burt.

Kurt kissed his cheek and announced, “Good, ‘cause Blaine is here to stay. Though, Blaine, I do want to meet your family too, someday.”

As soon as Blaine could strings words together again, he promised, “You will. We can go see my parents this summer. And Skype with Cooper one of these days. Though… I apologize in advance for all the ridiculous things Cooper is going to say.”

“Brothers,” Kurt nodded knowingly.

Kurt hugged his father tightly at the airport. When he let go, Blaine held out his hand for Burt to shake, but instead, Burt wrapped him up in a bear hug, too.

“Take care, kiddo. And look after Kurt for me, will you? Make him eat enough and sleep enough and have some fun in between all his work.”

“I will. I promise.”

Burt let him go and clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re a good kid. Wouldn’t mind having you as my son-in-law one day.”

“Daaaaad!” Kurt moaned.

“What, like you haven’t planned the wedding already in your head?”

Kurt looked as if he wanted to sink through the floor. “Dad, please! Do you want Blaine to run for the hills? We’ve only just become boyfriends!”

Well, isn’t that the truth… But I can totally picture myself married to you, so I’m not running anywhere but into your arms.

“I don’t think Blaine’s the kind to be easily scared off. He let us kidnap him when he didn’t know us from Adam, didn’t he?”

Both Kurt and Blaine gaped at Burt.

He chuckled at their gob-smacked expressions. “I heard you, kid. Inviting Blaine ‘as a friend’ because he’d been nice to you on the plane. I saw you making goo-goo eyes at each other. But Blaine didn’t dare say yes. So I made him come with us. And I don’t regret it. Do you?”

Kurt closed his mouth with a snap, and shook his head slowly, his eyes misty and his smile radiant.

Blaine shook his head as well. “Best thing that ever happened to me.”

[defultuser]

Britverse fic

Inspired by this post. Thanks to @theladyfae and the whole britgate team for your help 

As the bell rings Julie looks round her music class. Luke is diligently scribbling in his notebook, she thinks music is the only class where he’s not racing to leave as soon as it's possible for him to do so. While the rest of the class leave Julie silently motions to Mrs Harrison, a request for her and her friends to stay in her class during lunch. After receiving confirmation and watching Harrison leave Julie pulls out her phone to see a text from Flynn in the group chat, an offer to get food from the cafeteria for anyone that wants; Julie replies with a thumbs up and sandwich emoji before letting them know to come music once they have food. 

Turning back round she sees the class is empty but herself, Luke and Carrie; who pulls out her salad before throwing her pen at Luke’s head effectively waking him from his musical coma. With Luke’s attention back on them Julie asks, “Did you want to practice for the performance Saturday while we wait for the others?”

It's a pretty certain bet Luke will do just about anything with the promise of music so it comes as no surprise when in place of an answer he stands and grabs his guitar. The pair begin to sing through the song while Carrie eats and watches, preparing feedback. 

“That song is fit my g’s” 

No matter how many years Julie has lived in the UK she will never understand a word that comes out of Reggie Peter’s mouth. Just last week he called her pencil case, phone, and both her parents peng, apparently it's a compliment. Putting down his guitar Luke walks over to his friends and begins a handshake far too complex for people that ‘don’t care for all that stupid friendship stuff’. Willie joins her and they take their seats on the tables with their feet on the chairs.

“How was media? Miss like your homework?” She turns and asks the guys. 

“Her lessons are so dead man, Miss Ellis is so dry” Reggie answers she gives Bobby a confused look, 

“Bad, he’s saying that it was boring, as always.” He translates as he pulls Reggie into his lap where he’s sitting in Harrison's chair. Cause yeah that's a thing now. Despite spending most of year 9 fighting and most of year 10 deep into school conspiracies, they both accidentally came out just before the start of year 11 and they've been sort of romantic ever since; by romantic she means they go Mcdonalds as a pair and have been caught on one too many occasions making out in various classrooms. But they seem happy enough so none of the group questions it.

Julie's internal monologue is cut short by the arrival of Flynn and therefore food. 

“Food!’ Julie screams as if announcing it to the group, as she heads over to Flynn to collect her lunch, an unappealing pasta and bottle of water. Nick sets about handing out food for the rest of the group that asked for some. 

“Hotdog” Willie calls as Alex makes his way over to him and takes Julie's spot, with a kiss on the cheek Willie asks, “How was class?”

“Not too bad, we had a test but it was on what I revised last night.”

“Lucky bitch!” Flynn calls from where they're sitting, feet half in Carrie’s lap “some of us had netball so didn't study.”

“Probably should have studied, would have been better than your help at the game.” Carrie argues which sets off a chain reaction. 

“What are you trying to suggest? At least I didn't spend 45 minutes making sure my tracksuit looked good. A tracksuit you only wore on the bus”

“Yeah 45 minutes you could have revised cause you sure as hell were not making yourself look good.”

“Yeah i’m naturally this fit,” 

It's at this point Julie steps in “Girls enough!”

“No at least let them trade blows next time,'' Bobby complains, earning him a middle figure from both netball girls. 

At this moment Kayla, late from her film studies lesson enters. In place of a hello she greets the group with “Fuck me french film is pretentious,” she gives Carrie a hug and collects her lunch from Flynn. 

“That bad?” Willie questions and Kayla heads over to Harrison's desk to eat, in place of an answer she groans earning a laugh from the group. 

The group drifts off into the kind of comfortable silence you can only get around your friends. Willie and Alex chat amongst themselves, while Luke and Nick discuss his latest song, occasionally strumming a chord or two, Carrie is deeply engrossed in her instagram feed. With the rest working on homework over at Harrison’s desk Julie pulls her folder out of her bag and joins the study sesh. Every now and again someone will address the room and sometimes a lasting conversation will form, such as “Did you see Ms Mathew’s computer? Her background, it's her and Harrison on a beach.” It would seem Bobby isn't quite out of his conspiracy theory phase just yet, this was one of their favorites, are Mrs Harrison and Ms Mathew dating? As Julie has already tried to explain, they've been married for years now but that seems like too easy of an answer for walking conspiracy podcast Bobby Wilson. It's not long until silence falls over the room again. 

Luke suddenly jumps up guitar in hand. As if taunting him the rest pay him no attention. “Guys!” he screams.

“What ?” Julie rolls her eyes.

“I got it, the melody, listen” he begins to play, Julie recognises some of the chords and lyrics from earlier in lunch, she’ll admit it's a good song, incomplete but good. Before he’s able to finish Mr Davids walks into the room, looking as sour faced as ever. 

“Um folks, what are we doing here?” He calls in that voice all teachers can do “It's lunchtime … What are we doing in this classroom? You know you’re not allowed in here without a teacher.” 

Reggie clearly with more confidence than the rest goes to answer before getting cut off by Davids. 

“No Mr Peters, don't answer me back.”

Not shaken Luke cuts in “Mrs Harrison let us stay here,”  

“Mrs Harrison said you could be in here, well is this Mrs Harrison’s room? er i didn’t think so,” Davids is so quick to tell them off he doesn't listen to Carrie’s protest that it is Harrison’s room “All of you out!” Figuring it's easier to leave than argue they start collecting their things, “Go outside, eat, be sociable.”

“We were just practising” Luke grumbles catching Davids attention 

“You’re practising? Really, Mr Patterson for what? Last I checked only yourself Miss Wilson and Miss Molina were music students” 

“A gig” Luke mumbles Davids is clearly not a fan of this answer,

“For a gig, umm is that a school event... it isn’t?” again Davids doesn't even wait for a reply “Right. Well then I suggest you practice outside of school. You’re here to learn not trash a classroom… out!” 

In perhaps what might be the only time they've ever been grateful for the far too short lunch break at this school, they don't find themselves classroom-less for long; almost as soon as Davids shuts the door on the music room, locking them out, the bell rings and they're sent off the afternoon form. Both couples share a kiss before separating for class. Luke and Alex leave first in what can only be described as a sprint, after all their form is unfairly far away from everyone else’s. And Carrie drags a begrudging Reggie away to their shared form. The rest offer a series of “see you in class” and “meet me at the shop after school”s before Julie leaves with Willie and Kayla following as they cut through the drama studio and into the art department. 

Once the register is called Julie is free to work on her homework, although songwriting isn't strictly homework. She finds herself drawn to the lyrics Luke had been working on earlier; perhaps she could finish it for him and they could play it at the Hollywood Ghost Pub’s open mic night. Already imagining how it'll go: the surprise and excitement on Luke's face as she presents it to him, the perfect song to play with the boys, the amazing performance as they give it their all, she smiles losing herself in the daydream.

[theninjamouse]

Ocean on Fire Phantom of the Opera AU Master List (To be added to as I see fit)

Strap in, this is gonna get long. Big thanks to @thaylepo for indulging me and sending many brilliant ideas. 

This is a basic rundown and ideas that would happen at some point in the story. Obviously some things could change or be added but I’ve just got to get this down before I go nuts

Shore and Grillby were childhood friends.

Shore is the child of a wealthy business man, taught from childhood that the arts are to be treasured and appreciated

However, while she may learn instruments and dance and music, she is to take over the family business, not run away to star in the opera like she wants

Grillby's father (he has parents in this au) was a famous violinist who often was called by Shore's father to perform for parties. He wound up teaching Shore fundamentals of music

Little Grillby was a shy flame. Always trailed along behind his father, clutching his tailcoats

Shore saw the tiny elemental and decided instantly: I'm going to be his BEST FRIEND

Queue stuttering, hesitant Grillby being dragged around the manor, getting into all sorts of trouble and adventures. He's a lot more hardy than Shore is, so he rather often found himself acting as a sort of guard dog. He was utterly distraught when Shore fell and broke her arm. Shore teased him about crying because she couldn’t stand to see him so upset

They also learn music together from Grillby's father. First time Shore hears Grillby sing, she grabs his face and screams with delight until the poor little guy is fully bright blue with blushing

Then Grillby's father dies. A family friend takes Grillby away to one of the opera houses to work. Grillby and Shore are 13 and 10 at this point and have spent the last 6 years together. Shore makes Grillby promise to keep singing, to keep the spark of his father alive through music. He promises

They both wait until they are out of sight of the other to cry

Grillby cries every night for the first 3 months in the opera house. As a monster, he is bullied by many of the other students. He mourns his father's passing and he misses Shore to a near unbearable level. The only comfort he has is when he sings quietly to himself in those few moments when he is alone doing his chores

Then he hears a voice, a soft and gentle voice that asks him why such a bright flame weeps. He runs away in fear and hides in his bed

But the voice asks him again and again. 'Why does such a bright flame weep?' Slowly, over the course of a year, Grillby tells the voice his story

The voice says he is the Phantom of the opera house. Grillby thinks he sounds rather young to be a Phantom

The Phantom replies that Grillby is rather young to have such a lovely voice. He offers to teach Grillby. The fire monster agrees upon hearing the Phantom's beautiful and haunting voice

After all, he did promise

15 years pass. Shore has taken over her family business and is finally able to offer herself as a patron to an opera house that has shown remarkable growth over the years, becoming well known in the arts circles

Partially thanks to the star of the show, a humanoid robot named Mettaton. Most of the monsters we know work the show behind the scenes, so having a monster in the lead is a new leap in gaining treatment that is more fair for monster kind as performers

But Mettaton is also a diva. The day Shore arrives with new managers, he throws his tantrum and quits after a rather suspicious accident.

Shore only has eyes for the fire elemental standing frozen with the rest of the crew. She suggests letting him take the lead role. Promising that she knows he can sing.

Grillby is so quiet most assumed he couldn't even talk so naturally protests break out and Shore maybe uses her power as a patron to insist. 'He promised me,' is all she says, looking right at him

So he sings and everyone is stunned at the strength and grace of his voice. The managers instantly whisk him away to prepare for the show

After the show, Shore goes to his new dressing room and they fall into each other's arms. They speak of times past, of the loneliness of being apart. But when Shore says that she wants to take him out to celebrate, he hesitates. The Phantom will not be happy if he leaves, he knows this

But he agrees and she leaves to let him change

Enter in The Phantom. Showing himself for the first time, a figure in black wearing a simple white mask over his face. White hands punched through the palms. Grillby is enchanted, dazed and follows The Phantom into the tunnels under the opera house

*Music of the Night noises*

Grillby has a bit of a Crisis because he genuinely cares about Phantom and they became very close friends as much as teacher and student but this is kind of odd?? A little frightening?

Phantom sees this, backpedals real hard but hides it and sends Grillby back upstairs before falling into bed and screaming into his pillow

When Shore finds Grillby vaguely wandering back into the theater, she goes, uh??? What happened?? Were you kidnapped? I kind of stayed up all night looking for you??

Grillby, still a little in shock because what the heck just happened "Kind of?"

Now that won't STAND

Shore starts digging to find out everything she can about this opera ghost, keeping a close eye on Grillby. There is no gaslighting here folks like in versions of the story that to this day drive me crazy

As Shore digs, accidents start happening. Loose floorboards, unlatched equipment, a falling sandbag or two. Shore catches on pretty quickly what’s happening when she catches just a flash of shadow more than once right before or after these little ‘incidents’ 

Finally plants herself down in the middle of the stage and calls for the Phantom to show his face. It takes a while then she sees a shadow just barely move. He’s up in the rafters, crouched like some kind of bat

“What is your freaking deal?” 

“Why are you trying to take what’s mine?” 

“Yours? He belongs to himself you dingbat”

That makes him laugh for reasons Shore doesn’t get

Conversation happens, a lot of dodging questions, shifting blame. Phantom is oddly charming. For being an attempted murdering/kidnapping jerk

“Are you the one who keeps trying to kill me? The sandbag dropped on my head, the broken trapdoor, the spiders in my hat??”

“Oh my God, I’m not responsible for every little thing that goes wrong in this place. It’s an old building, accidents do happen. 

“The sandbag was me though.”

Grillby materializes just to smack him in the head for that

And so it goes, Grillby and Shore trying to reconnect, Grillby trying to maintain a level of friendship (and maybe more?) with Phantom and Phantom attempting various levels of accidents to get Shore to leave the theater

Until one day he finds Shore on the stage. She’s singing to an empty theater. She’s not...good exactly but...rather unpracticed. He’s startled enough that he stops his evil giggling and untwisting of the hidden trapdoor in the stage to listen. 

He comes up silently, creeping on the edges just out of sight. When he speaks, Shore shrieks and nearly falls off the stage anyway. Her blushing does a weird thing to his Soul. Like a sort of flip flopping squeeze. 

“Well, if you’re going to think yourself worthy of my Flame, you’d better have a voice to match. Let me hear you sing again.”  

Many ‘threat’ filled lessons later-

“Hmm. Maybe there’s hope for you after all” 

“Maybe there’s more to you than a creepy stalker personality.” 

Past the Point of No Return scene happens at some point. I don’t make the rules

Also Phantom and Shore have a sword fight that maybe starts out as anger fueled but rather quickly changes to a pent up Feelings kind of deal

Grillby’s concern is quick to fade and he watches the two idiots dance around each other, wondering why exactly they don’t see how much they actually do like each other. 

It’s also at this moment he realizes fully that he loves them both

“Well shoot, I love these two morons and they love each other but won’t admit it. This is going to be very ‘fun’ to sort out”

Eventually, Shore asks for Phantom’s name. 

“My name...died with the person I was long ago.” 

“Maybe it’s time you reclaim it.” 

His name is Wing Dings Gaster and for countless years he was held by the Void. He doesn’t fully remember how he escaped, nor what he looked like before. All he knows is that his face is broken with terrible cracks and skeletal in only the vaguest sense with a body that ebbs and flows with darkness. When he first stumbled back into the light after the darkness of the Void, people screamed and ran from him. Or worse, they chased him, calling him an omen of death. So he retreated down below the theater and resigned himself to always be a watcher and made a mask to cover his face. 

He was alone for years until he heard young Grillby crying in a corner and sat as close as he dared. It took a while for him to gain the courage to speak to the elemental

Given the fluid nature of his body, it’s easy for him to change his voice to sing. It’s the only part of himself that he can see as holding any worth. 

Grillby was his only source of socialization and he’s terrified of losing him, which makes Phantom a tad bit clingy with some pretty severe separation anxiety 

Phantom is a sad, sad boy who needs a lot of hugs and therapy

Shore is kind to him despite it all (and despite the irritation at the ‘death threats’) 

Phantom finally admits that she was never in any actual danger because he might be a messed up guy but he’s not a murderer. He might have even nudged her out of the way with blue magic a few times to make sure she wasn’t hurt.

Eventually Phantom realizes he no longer wants her to leave. He wants to stand with her and Grillby. He wants to be a better monster but he doesn’t know how to do that so kind of retreats into his lair 

Grillby and Shore have to track him down. And queue the heart to heart, the great Crying Session, the Unmasking or whatever you wanna call it

And they all live an OT3 happy ending, the end

[ollyarchive]

Interview

Olly Alexander on success, sanity and It's a Sin: 'All those hot guys. I loved it!'

Simon Hattenstone

The Years & Years frontman is starring in Russell T Davies’ new drama about the Aids crisis. He talks about bulimia, his ‘dark’ clubbing days – and how he learned to enjoy filming sex scenes

Mon 11 Jan 2021 06.00 GMT

Olly Alexander was so certain he was destined for success that he saw a therapist to help him prepare for his future fame. It was 2014 and his band Years & Years had just signed to Polydor when he visited the shrink.

“I said: ‘The album’s coming out and I really want it to be successful,’ and he said: ‘What happens if it isn’t?’ I said: ‘Well, that’s not an option because I have planned it in my diary since I was a teenager.’”

That diary was less about chronicling the present than a series of promises he made to himself. “I planned my life till I was 25. I would be a famous musician ’cos musicians were the coolest people in the world. The biggest thing in the list was buying my mum a house, and I did that. That was the coolest thing to be able to do with my money.” He smiles. “That was the coolest thing ever.”

Now Alexander might well benefit from another visit to the shrink because he’s about to become a lot more famous. He stars in It’s a Sin, the brilliant new TV drama by Russell T Davies, about a group of young gay men living and dying through the Aids epidemic in the 1980s. The five-part series is funny, vibrant, sexy and heartbreaking.

This is by no means the first time Alexander has acted – he has appeared in the TV series Skins, films such as Bright Star (about Keats), Gulliver’s Travels and Great Expectations, and on stage in the West End alongside Judi Dench and Ben Whishaw in Peter and Alice; a pretty impressive CV. But with It’s a Sin, he knows he has struck gold. “Some actors would wait their entire careers and not get such a good role,” Alexander says, and he’s right. Davies has made a habit of creating groundbreaking TV series (Queer As Folk, Bob and Rose, Torchwood), and this is his best yet.

Alexander’s character, Ritchie Tozer, is an aspiring actor/singer who has just moved to London from the Isle of Wight in search of fame, fortune and a good shagging. He embraces his new freedoms with promiscuous abandon, while also struggling with his sexuality. Ritchie is equally cocky and vulnerable, lovable and insufferable.

Although It’s a Sin takes place in a time before Alexander was born, he says there are so many ways he relates to Ritchie’s life. There is one crucial difference – whereas Ritchie is secretive, Alexander is an open book. If there’s anything to tell you, he’ll tell you, even if he is embarrassed a second later about his indiscretions. It’s an endearing quality, and one that makes him great company.

We meet in his agent’s east London office in December, when Tier 4 restrictions are yet to kick in. Alexander is a boyish 30 – half punk, half catwalk model, with orange hair, earrings, multiple rings, stylish khaki trousers and a handful of inky tattoos. He is garrulous and giggly with a huge toothy grin.

Like Ritchie, Alexander was a stranger to city life when he came to London. He was born in North Yorkshire, went to primary school in Blackpool and Gloucestershire, and a comprehensive in Monmouth, south Wales. He was a natural performer who wrote his first song at the age of 10. “I performed it in my year six assembly.” Can he remember it? He squirms. “Yeah!” Let’s hear it then? “No!” Oh go on! “OK, OK. ‘The leaves are falling outside my window. I’m lay here all alone,” he sings quietly, in that delicate falsetto. He giggles, blushes and continues. “And now I’m a knowin’, the way it’s goin’, we won’t last for ever, for ever my love.’”

Wow, those lyrics are pretty sophisticated – and melancholy. He giggles again. “Oh thanks. It’s about unrequited love. Doomed love. I was getting in early on my themes. I had a bit of help from my dad.” He wrote it after experiencing his first pangs – for a boy in his class.

At secondary school Alexander was a victim of homophobic bullying. He responded with elan. “I would still come to non-uniform day in eyeliner.” Did he fight back? “Sometimes I would scream. I was not a good fighter. We did rugby a lot at my school – a Welsh school. The one time I scored a try, on the way back to the changing room the two popular boys from the year put their arms around me and said: ‘Well done, Olly,” and I was like: ‘I can’t believe it, this is it!’” He pauses long enough for me to get a glowing feeling. “Then they tripped me up and pushed my face into the mud. That was hard to live down.” After that he never went to another games lesson.

When he was 13, his parents separated, and from then he was brought up by his mother, events organiser Vicki Thornton (his real surname – Alexander is his middle name). His father had been a talented but disappointed singer-songwriter who made a living marketing theme parks. Although he gave young Olly a lifelong passion for adventure rides, there were tensions between the two of them. After his parents split up, he broke off contact with his father. When Alexander became successful, his father tried to rekindle their relationship via Twitter. Alexander wasn’t impressed.

With the sod-you eyeliner and supreme belief that he would make it, he sounds incredibly robust. So what else was in that teenage diary? “Pppprrrr.” He blows his lips as if feeling a sudden chill. “It’s a bit dark. I used to write that I really wanted to be skinny.” He exhales deeply. “My mantra was always: I’m not going to eat this again, I’m not going to eat cake again. I’m never going to eat pasta.” He was barely into his teens when he became bulimic and started to list the things he wouldn’t eat. Actually, he says it was worse than that. “I was writing down: don’t eat, don’t eat, don’t eat. Did he have a weight problem? “I was a little chubby at primary school, but no.” What does he think it came from? “It was something I could control. I felt very out of control in the rest of my life. I was struggling with my sexuality, my parents were divorcing, and I wanted to punish myself.”

I want to give him a hug, but I’m not sure he would appreciate it, particularly in the pandemic. Why did he want to punish himself? “It was self-loathing. I didn’t want to be gay. I was convinced I was the reason my parents were splitting up.” He never considered that their divorce may have had nothing to do with him.

He started to cut himself, too. Has he still got the scars? He points to his upper arms and thighs, “because people can’t see there. I was deeply ashamed of doing it. I wanted to hide it.” Are there many scars? “No. A friend saw a plaster on my arm and jokingly asked if I’d been cutting myself. After that, I was so embarrassed that I mostly stopped doing it. Bulimia carried on well into my 2os, but it became less and less frequent. It’s really hard to hold down any kind of job if you’re throwing up food all the time, and ultimately you have to choose.” It becomes a full-time occupation? “Yes, it’s all you think about. And you’re doing so much damage to your organs. I got taken into hospital once with my mum because I had this irregular heartbeat, which can happen through constant purging, and that really scared me. I thought I’d done something irreparable to my body, and my mum was so distraught. She couldn’t understand why her son was throwing up all the food she was trying to give him. She found out because I hadn’t cleaned the toilet properly.”

After studying performing arts at Hereford College of Arts, he moved to London and was liberated. He had a heady time of it – more drugs, clubbing and sex than even he had hoped for, while also getting regular work as an actor. But there was a downside. He saw friends struggle, sacrifice themselves to excess, fall by the wayside. “Everything was about going out and connecting with people at the clubs. I had a great time, but it was also a dark time. A lot of people took too many drugs. A few friends attempted to take their lives and one succeeded. That was devastating. You can see how easy it is for a party lifestyle to turn into something negative.”

Alexander has a strong survival instinct. There was his destiny to fulfil, the house to buy for his mother. He still struggled with his mental health, so he cut down on the destructive stuff. Today, he says, his main drug of choice is the antidepressant sertraline. “I was worried about longterm use, and the doctor said: ‘Well, the latest research shows it can promote neurogenesis, and I was like that’s the coolest thing ever.” Neurogenesis is the process by which new neurons are formed in the brain. “She was basically saying antidepressants are giving you superpowers, and I was like: ‘Amazing, I’ll keep taking them for ever.’” He starts giggling, and he can’t stop. “Neurogenesis – ooh, I love that. I’m going to be neuro-supercharged.”

Years & Years formed in 2010. Founder member and synth/bass/keyboard player Mikey Goldsworthy heard Alexander singing in the shower and asked if he wanted to become lead singer. When Alexander joined, Years & Years were a five-piece band, before shrinking to an electropop trio (Alexander, Goldsworthy and fellow guitarist and keyboard guru Emre Türkmen). Alexander, the main songwriter, has an ear for great sweeping choruses (think Sam Smith meets Pet Shop Boys with a dash of New Order). Their first album, Communion, went to No 1 in the UK, while the song King topped the singles chart and its follow-up, Shine, reached No 2. Many of their songs are about yearning and doomed love – particularly on their second album, Palo Santo – just like the first one he wrote aged 10.

Alexander also became known as an LGBTQ campaigner. He made a documentary, Growing Up Gay, for the BBC in which he talked to his mother in a tear-filled exchange about coming out; he also interviewed people about struggles with their sexuality, the pressure to be promiscuous and take drugs, and addressed schoolchildren about homophobia and mental health problems. Does he think of himself as an activist? He shakes his head. “It does a disservice to actual activists. There’s a tendency to use that word for anyone in the public eye speaking up about any issue. Going into schools and talking about mental health isn’t activism. I like doing that. If I can be helpful, I want to help.”

The week before we meet he was named celebrity of the year at the British LGBT awards. He doesn’t know why – he says he didn’t do anything in 2020. “Maybe they heard about my upcoming role and got in there early!”

He says he has learned so much from making It’s a Sin – not least about acting, and how tough it can be. “Doing an acting job where you have to turn up every day is really challenging. I was so used to my musician lifestyle, which is usually: get up late, get in a car, get driven to an airport, get on a plane, fall asleep, arrive somewhere, get driven to the venue, roll out of the car and do the show. It was too much like hard work every day. I thought I’d got past this!”

We see a lot of Alexander in It’s a Sin – in every sense. He gets more than his share of sex scenes, and says it was fascinating being taught how to do them properly. So he enjoyed them? “All those hot guys. That aspect I loved! And going into it I thought, I’m going to have so much fun doing this, I’m a confident-ish guy, love having sex, it will be great.” That’s so refreshing, I say, to hear actors admit they enjoy sex scenes.

Ah, well, he says, it wasn’t quite that simple – he initially became self-conscious. “I broke down into hysterical tears, like ‘don’t fucking touch me’. I found it really hard.” Then the intimacy coordinators got to work on him. “They were a life-changing experience. Intimacy coordinators are there for safety ’cos there’s a lot of shit that can go wrong between what a director wants and what an actor wants, and boundaries being crossed. They’re there to rehearse everything beforehand with the director and the performers. You talk about animals you might imitate, the sounds you make.” He pays tribute to intimacy coordinator extraordinaire Ita O’Brien, who introduced the Intimacy on Set guidelines in 2017 and worked on Normal People as well as It’s a Sin. “Anything with sex in it, she’ll be involved. She’ll be on all fours at one point, saying: ‘Now I’m going to be like a cow and moo in ecstasy.’ She’s amazing, amazing, amazing.” And yes, he did start to enjoy the scenes.

Did he find them arousing? Now it’s my turn to blush and I apologise for the question. Did he start to enjoy it too much? “No, that’s what I want to know. What if someone gets a hard-on – how embarrassing would that be? Ita said: ‘It’s natural and normal for certain body parts to get excited and if you get an erection that’s absolutely fine, but it’s not appropriate for the workplace.’” He adds a caveat: “Depending on what kind of job you’re doing. And she said: ‘If that happens, you just take a time out. So you’re all there thinking, OK, how embarrassing – because you say time out and everybody knows it’s because you’ve got a hard-on. Hahahhaa!” Did he have to take a time out? “No!” Did anyone? “Not to my knowledge.”

Who did he have most fun with? “I’d say best kiss was the guy who plays Ash [newcomer Nathaniel Curtis]. Great kisser.” And the best shag? “Sexual simulation,” he corrects me. “Best sexual simulation was Roscoe [Omari Douglas, another relative newcomer].” Has he told them? “It’s all coming out in this article, Simon.” And I can sense him calibrating what he has just said. “It’s going to ruin my standing!” But a second later he changes his mind. “No, that’s a compliment right? I compliment them both. Hahahaha!” And he laughs giddily.

I ask about the future. You sense he’s not sure where to go from here, acting-wise – that it can’t get any better than It’s a Sin. Fortunately, he owes the band an album’s worth of songs. He had them done and dusted before the pandemic. “But all that time in my flat going insane made me realise I didn’t like any of the music, it didn’t feel relevant. I just wanted to start again, which is what I did. Now it’s almost ready – again.”

It will be only their third album in seven years. “I know,” he says. “It’s embarrassing. Ariana Grande has had about five out in the time we’ve done one.” In the meantime, he says, Türkmen has had one baby, with another on the way.

What about his own love life? “It’s pretty dire.” Sex? “I’m hopeful to have more sex … it’s very difficult in the age of Covid if you’re single. I actually tried to lock someone down who would be my ‘friends with benefits’ sex buddy, because I saw that Holland were advising people to do that. In the first lockdown I said: ‘Look, we can just have sex with each other. I trust you, you trust me, we’re not together, but this is an arrangement. I’ve not had sex in six months, what do you think?’ But he said no. I was quite upset. So yeah, not a lot of sex in 2020.” For a split-second, the puckish Alexander looks forlorn. Then he grins his toothiest grin yet. “But I’m hopeful that it will pick up in the new year!”

It’s a Sin is on Channel 4 on 22 January at 9pm

[abizarreyodelingincident]

Linked Universe: Regrets

“Although I accepted life as the hero, I could not convey the lessons of that life to those who came after... At last, I have eased my regrets.”

Twilight had never forgotten those words. He had carried them with pride. Used them when his hands faltered. Remembered the strength that had been taught to him. Swords without courage meant nothing. With the lessons of the Hero's Shade, Twilight struck down Hyrule's greatest enemy for good.

(He thought. But there would be another after him, long after, but one nonetheless, and he would suffer greatly from the shadow of Hyrule's first enemy.)

Nowadays, it's a white lie that haunts his nights.

“Link... I... See you later.”

He's learned when things aren't meant to be. And he loves his fellow heroes. Wouldn't trade them for peaceful days wandering his Hyrule. He loves them. Like brothers. Like another father. But he knows it can't last. Whenever there is a meeting, a parting is sure to follow. And theirs... through time and space... there will be no reunion after they've completed this quest.

He should shield his heart better, but they slip past too easily for that. One day, they'll go their separate way. He can't change that. Still, any time he looks at the old man, his heart squeeze and he just wants to help. To save him. He can't.

Is it like that for anyone else? Does Hyrule hide something like this from Legend behind all his sweet smiles and his eagerness to learn? Does he also think of a nameless grave by a tree? Maybe a grand mausoleum, because it's Legend, and he's earned at least this much, to hear him speak of his many trials?

He smirks to himself at the idea, but it slips soon enough.

Four? No one's quite sure where he fits in the timeline, but the best guess is 'early'. Wind? No, he's said the legends exist, but the hero never showed. Warriors thinks it's the timelines diverging when Time returned to his youth to prevent Ganon's rise. He's another odd one out. Knowing a bit of everything and everyone's legacy. Does Warriors know how it'll end for me?Wild certainly doesn't.

The truth is Twilight knows that Time will never be fully content despite Malon, despite a future as a father, and he hates the fact that he cannot save his mentor. Cannot prevent that regret from taking root in him. He's only ever known that he hated leaving his Hyrule defenseless, with no one to learn from the hardships he was shoved into as a child.

Twilight hates it so much. Sometimes, Zant's pendant pulsed with the dark emotions that want to choke him up. He almost wonders if there isn't something right in the ranting of the old usurpers. The Goddesses were so many things, but kind?

It's hard to remember their blessings when the people you love most see their fate as cursed. When Hyrule is doomed without that pain.

“Green rupee for your thoughts?” Warriors ask, watching the sun set over the horizon.

“I know I'm country folk, but we ain't that cheap, Captain,” Twilight drawls.

Warriors shrugs, then pulls his sword out to run a whetstone over its edge. “Well, I'm broke. My queen and I hadn't thought it'd stretch out over this long.”

The thought sobers Twilight, who is decidedly not looking dusk painting the sky like a bonfire. “Miss her?” he says, quieter than usual.

Warriors' glance is a bit sharper than warranted, but he makes no comment about it. “Certainly,” he replies easily. “She was one of the few... mhmm, wait, did I never tell you about my situation back in my era?”

He sees the non-sequitur and accepts it with a sigh of relief. Sitting down by the same tree, he settles just close enough for them to touch shoulders. “No, but I sense this is a long story.”

“It's the perfect length, thank you,” Warriors haughtily counters. “So, it all begins roughly ten years ago-”

Twilight snorts, and pushes his brother roughly. Warriors is agile enough he slips back into place without dropping the sword or the stone, radiating smug triumph.

In the end, he joins Warriors on first watch just to distract himself from his thoughts.

***

Lon Lon Ranch is one of his favorite place to visit. Stepping inside feels like being served a slice of Ordon on a platter. It's a piece of home, without the awkwardness that comes from the odd looks here and there. Unspoken questions about every little way he's changed.

Twilight shakes his head. What's he doing? Somewhat forcefully, he pulls back the sleeves of his tunic and spits in his hands. He's got some work to do, and it's not Legend (who is egging Warriors more than he's shoveling) or Wind (who is having the time of his life learning how to ride with Time's Epona) that'll finish the chores for him.

“Here, sweetheart.” Malon holds out a waterskin to him and a towel. “Don't forget to rest and drink every once in a while. With this sun, it's not healthy to neglect it.”

He accepts gratefully, swallowing a mouthful of cool water first. “I will, Ma'am.”

“Oh, hush with that. It's Malon for family,” she corrects him easily, and he ducks his head, pleased. “And I'll be watching you, sweetheart. The Goddesses know my Link's not one to recognize his limits.”

Time straightens and leans against the handle of his spade. “Now, now, honey, you know I'm a reasonable man.”

“Did I tell you about the time my clever husband decided to renovate the ba-!”

Malon lets out a fake shriek when Time grabs her with his dirt-covered hands. Pretends to fight back. She's not fooling him or her husband. They've both witnessed her handling the cattle. It's not from Time's side of the family that Twilight inherited the strength.

(They're the type of couple that teases each other constantly. He wonders what it would have been like if Midna...)

There's something a little different about Malon today. Something under her skin. Like she was holding on to a secret with both hands and it's threatening to explode the whole time. He wouldn't call her nervous. Excited, though? Yes.

He finds out at dinner.

They've just finished another two course meal courtesy of Malon and Wild when she pulls her husband aside during dessert. It gets a glance or two, but the conversation keeps going on the topic of stupidest things they've ever done. Since it's Wild's turn though, Twilight can still focus on the married couple by the sink.

(It's a sad day when he can name more for Wild than Wild remembers. They've got diverging definitions of what constitutes a 'stupid' thing. He will forever argue against the monster masks, especially the lynel one.)

“I was waiting for a chance to tell you in person. I saw a wisewoman last week.”

“What for...?” Time asks, and he sounds a little anxious for once, hands hovering closer to his wife.

Coy, Malon bites her lips and glances at Twilight. Time has to turn to see where, exactly, she's looking, and his breath hitches when he realizes. His mouth twitch as he grabs both her hands, focused on her with such intensity she giggles.

“You mean...?”

She breaks into a grin, nods and whispers-yells: “Yes! We're going to be parents, Link.”

The kiss he lands on her lips is indecent enough to attract whistles from some of the others, who seem to be clueing in to the excitement in the room. When those two come apart, a pleasant blush colors their cheeks, and he tells her, over and over that he loves her. When he's had his fill, he whirls around to face them and their cheering.

“Boys!” Time calls out, exuberant, absolutely unguarded. “Boys! I'm going to be a father!”

The roof, improbably, resists the eruption of screams. Time's pure joy is contagious and it's the best news they've got since starting this quest. Congratulations rain on the happy couple.

“Someone's going to have competition, huh?” Legend nudges Twilight's ribs, wagging eyebrows.

Normally, Twilight would be flattered that his bond with Time is that obvious. Normally, he'd grab Legend and give him a noogie for his insolence. Make him cry 'uncle'. The classic big brother behavior he's used to. But he barely hears the words as it is, his mind bogged down by a sudden realization.

He stalls.

He's a second delayed in joining in the congratulations, behind Sky and Hyrule who are a little less physical in their affections. They've formed a circle around their leader and his wife, offering their best wishes, joking, patting Time on the back, kissing Malon's cheeks.

And then it's his turn.

Twilight remembers to breath. Offers his hand first.

“Oh, come here, you!” she swats away his hand and forces him into a hug that's warm, soft.

“You'll make a wonderful mother, Malon.”

Her expression shifts slightly, more of a knowing smirk, and he can see her laughter in her eyes. 'Oh, now you tell me.'

It's impossible for him not to smile back.

And below that elation, the flare of hope in his guts, is a heart stopping dread.

***

The next few battles are some of the worst Twilight had to struggle through. The enemies' number swell. Their ambushes turn elaborate with unheard of combinations of monsters that never coexisted naturally. The puppeteer behind them has tightened the strings, and Twilight has trouble keeping his head above water when every second he looks away, he fears his mentor (father) will die.

It's sheer experience and a heaping dose of help from his companions that ensure he's not dead. And even then...

“There, good as new,” Hyrule proclaims, slapping Twilight's bicep for good measure. “Now how about you don't pull a Wild and drop your weapon next time? We're counting on you to teach him caution, not the opposite.”

“Heard you, 'Rule!” Wild protests from where he's helping Four hobble back to them.

“Great, because we all saw that thing with the peahat.”

“It was the only way!”

And here goes the bickering, Twilight huffs. Wild and Hyrule get along like a house on fire, which means that it's warm and toasty for a while until everything collapse into ashes for a bit. Then they rebuild it better and stronger than before with perfect coordination. It's impressive, honestly, how they both push in the same direction without a second thought.

At least this doesn't look like he'll need to turn into a wolf to fetch them in a forest on the other side of a mountain like last time (he's still bitter about it, a mountain?).

“Pup,” Time's voice jolts him back into awareness. His mentor's standing right behind him. “Come with me for a minute?”

For a second, he hesitates. He likes to imagine a thousand explanations for it, but he already knows the one. Sky shot him the odd look during the fight. Saw him sloppier than usual. And Time keeps an even closer look on all of them.

The clearing is just far enough to be away from prying eyes, though not far enough they can't hear the others if they pay attention. Both sides could hear and rush at the first sign of trouble. It's a good place for a talk.

“Twilight,” Time begins, voice brimming with concern, “what's wrong?”

“It's...”

Silence lingers between them, with all the things Twilight can't say.

“Does it have anything to do about Malon's pregnancy?” Time asks, and Twilight cringes. “Ah. I figured as much. Are you bothered?”

Twilight fights the flashback to one of those evenings Rusl took him aside for a fatherly talk. He feels about as small as he did back then too. “No, of course not! It's... before, when I met Malon and saw you two didn't have kids, I realized you were safe. Every one of us is risking his life on this quest, but I could hold onto the idea that you'd live through, that it was impossible that you didn't because I'm here.”

“Were you not worried for my safety before this, Pup?” Time teases, a full on smirk on his face.

Twilight's face burns. “I, no, that's not it at all! It's just... Goddesses, I'm being silly.”

The hand that rests on his shoulder feels solid. Grounding. Like Time means to give him back some of that certainty through sheer force of will.

Twilight's relieved that it works on him.

“Pup, I promise I have no intention of dying and leaving Malon to raise our little hellion all on her own. I wouldn't do that to her.”

“Oh, right, the poor gal,” Twilight hears himself reply.

Time blinks. Then hooks his arm around Twilight's neck, an unholy glint in his good eye. “A youngster like you's too ignorant to mock your elders like this. But I suppose I should teach you.”

***

Time's few additions to the prank war ongoing inside their camps gives Twilight chills.

But he joins in the laughs with the rest of them.

And he almost forgets.

***

They have a lead on the object of their quest.

A location they must investigate. No guarantee, but reports seem promising.

It's hard not to get swept right in by his brothers' enthusiasms. He's found more family through this quest than he had ever hoped to get, but it's also been a mess of ambushes, lost directions and insufferable assholes (some of which, he loves because they're his pack, his siblings, his dad).

“I'll cut the fucker's balls right off!” Wind cheers, which gets nods from Legend and Wild, and winces from Sky and Warriors.

Twilight is more in the 'rip their throat out' camp, but he's also got a unique perspective on how to get personal with killing off your enemies.

(If their quest is to end, he will stand between any number of enemies so that his family returns home safe.)

***

The Temple of Souls.

A place of power, of memories. Deeds commemorated here. Statues of the various chosen heroes during their adventures. Honored and immortalized in stone.

Twilight hesitates before the one statue of a beast, and the imp riding its back. It's a testament to how much the other heroes helped him heal that he mostly feels nostalgia looking at his past. The pain, muted by Wild's enthusiasm or Four's more solemn amusement.

They search through the history of the Hero's Spirit together, with Warriors leading them. Their captain's light-hearted jester attitude's been replaced by his battlefield look. A strategist and a soldier, at the head of a battalion of legends. And yet, there's a tightness to his expression. Twilight gets why and he makes sure to stay close. The sorceress had been reformed, so this world's Zelda said. But the fear's longer lasting.

Time lingers near the statue of the Hero of Time. So do the others, with Warriors deciding to keep watch, since they clearly couldn't deal with the idea of Time having once been a child.

A little kid. Probably not even as tall as Colin or Talo. Twilight tries to imagine letting these two go on a quest to save Hyrule and his mind buckles in protest at the knowledge of what kind of monstrosities can crawl up from the darkest corners of Hyrule. Imagines them in the Arbiter's Ground, and he feels acute pain in his left hand, where he is gripping his sword's hilt so hard his knuckles turn white.

Hylia stole Time's childhood, but Twilight won't let her take his future.

***

They found the enemy.

It found them in return. Hyrule is the first to realize, and it's their wanderer's words that ring in their heads during the worst battle of their lives.

'Impaled by a shadow in my likeness. Everything I gave, he returned right back.'

Dark Link. The other side of the coin. The shadow of the Hero's Spirit, grown with each incarnation.

It is not an opponent for any one hero to take on anymore. Dark Link is the sum of every dark turns their minds have ever taken, every moment of fear, despair, anger. Every dirty trick. Every method of handling a sword. It reflects all nine of them, in turn and at once.

And it means that each one of them know a piece of Dark Link as intimately as the back of their hands.

The battle does not end quickly.

While most encounters with monsters last minutes at most and encounters with bosses sometimes stretch twice or thrice that, this battle goes on for what feels like lifetimes. There's not a thing Twilight knows that he doesn't see at some point in Dark Link's arsenal. He's forced to see his journey thrown back at him, and he only went on a single one.

(He loses both his shield and his sword midway through. Has to join in the sniping until that's destroyed. Breaks two more of Wild's weapons. Fought with fangs and claws till he desperately needed healing.)

They came prepared. Armed with every weapon they have. Overstocked with potions and blessings and fairies.

They're still all exhausted, wounded and little more than dead on their feet when Wild lands the apparent fatal blow with a shock arrow. Electricity dances on the shade, its face a mask of silent agony, and it stumbles, shape unsteady, and sinks back into nothing.

“Is it... is it over?” Wind asks, his shirt shredded and an ugly burn on his collarbone.

“Steady!” Warriors calls out. “It might be trying to trick us.”

They watch every corner of the room with the hard earned hatred of a difficult opponent. They're all on their last leg and they can't keep going much longer. The air's so thick with tension Twilight tastes it. His instinct's screaming at him. He knows, in his heart, that this is it.

(It might be why he looked.)

(None of the others have spent as much time as him watching shadows, longing for the way they might waver and twist and become a beloved companion.)

Time's shadow shouldn't be this inky black.

Time's grip on his sword is also looser than his shadow's.

Twilight breaks into a sprint.

For a long time, Twilight had no choice. No matter what, his old mentor couldn't die before he had children.

Somehow, he'd been naïve enough to find comfort in that. Since then, he's dreamed of Time holding his baby, happier than he had ever dared express before. The memories of years that aged his heart faster than his body no longer a burden in his quiet little corner of the world.

There still isn't a choice. Time must go back to his wife and child. Twilight won't accept any other outcome. He'll turn silly images conjured from his resting mind into rock solid visions of the future.

Time's shadow stands up.

Hyrule shouts a warning.

And the blade swings.

“TWILIGHT!”

The taste of copper washes over his tongue. Drips from the corner of his mouth.

He looks down. A blade's shadow is impaling him straight through the chest. And Dark Link's face splits into a savage grin. Triumphant.

Heat bleeds out of his wound too fast. Somehow, he's certain this isn't poison, or at least, the traditional kind. It's climbing up his limbs, through his torso, and squeezes as if it were the coils of a snake. There's something wild, uncontrolled to it. Malicious. Its embrace tightens. Tries to leave him helpless, paralyzed.

It's fine. More so than any other hero, he's used to darkness. Made it a tool for himself in the ways the others haven't dared. And he's suddenly so thankful for it. That it's him. His country doesn't need him anymore, not like Sky who needs to build it from the ground, not like Legend who can never step outside his doors without getting roped into saving another country, not like Hyrule who guards the secret of his royal family, not like Warriors who is working so damn hard to earn back trust and honor amongst his own, not like Wild who wants to serve his Zelda and pay back his past mistake.

He doesn't even have grand projects for the future, like discovering a new land with pirates, find a lost brother, or simply build a home with his wife.

He's just... a farmer who picked up a sword and had help at the right time. Even if he dies, he knows his friends in the resistance could still protect Hyrule in his stead. The kids can look after themselves and each other now. Queen Zelda has always been stronger than him. And Illia... he'll finally let Epona go back to her. He can only hope that will be enough.

Because here and now, he is needed one last time.

Dark Link snarls and grins and begins to pull back his sword.

Twilight's hand catches his wrist. Grips.

Dark Link flinches. Red eyes flickers between his wrist and Twilight's serene smile. The other hand lashes like a whip, dagger's shade aimed right at his face, but that one instead pierces through Twilight's palm. Closing fingers lock Dark Link's arm into place. Neither can escape the other now. For the first time, hesitation flashes on the doppelganger's face. Tilts into fear as it starts to struggle. Each movement is rough, violent and murder on Twilight's battered body. The thing's strength should scare him.

  Except Twilight learned to wrestle gorons for fun. He wins every time.

The others rally. He catches them rushing forward in the corner of his eyes.

It tries to slip inside his shadows, but Twilight remembers that trick too. He pulls back, welcomes the darkness and Dark Link's feet blur, fuse to the ground, to Twilight's own shadow. It's oddly fitting.

With a deadly chime, the biggoron sword sails over his shoulder and catches Dark Link's arm. It rams itself against Twilight, tries to stagger him, but his mentor's at his back now, and the battleworn heroes, his wronged family, repay their suffering with interest.

One skewering echoed eight times over. Every aspect of the Hero's Spirit stabbing at their inner darkness, fighting the demon that claimed their faults. It cannot escape this time. Its face shifts with every blow. From young to old to young again, a twin lost at birth. Bitter. Resentful. It's weak and faltering when at last, it becomes Twilight's.

With one last battle cry, Sky executes a point perfect great spin that slices straight through Dark Link's neck. Its head goes flying and dissolves before it hits the ground. The body remains longer. Some of it clings to Twilight, sinks into him. He might have worried about this eventually, but the black sword fades and his tunic become slick with blood.

Yeah... there's no coming back from that one.

Dark Mirrors had always been his greatest weakness. What set him on his journey, what broke him in the end, twice. He thinks... he thinks he managed to pick up the pieces well enough.

“Sorry, guys...” His attempt at a smile turn into a grimace of pain. “I don't think I can walk this off...”

“Hyrule! Heal him!”

Hyrule's corpse-like pallor is all the answer they need. The fight exhausted the last of his magic. He's still stumbling forward like he will put his own life into the spell if he needs it. Sky's the one to pull him back, looking sick.

Legend's bag is upturned over the floor, and three of them kneel amongst the items. Twilight notes with faint amusement that this time, their prickly veteran does not yell at them to be careful with his stuff. Rare items gathered through harrowing adventures just go flying on the sides, discarded as useless. He hopes none of them break. He'd hate that to be one of the last things Legend remember about him.

“Don't,” Twilight says, but it's too weak to get through his family's panic. “It's okay...”

Four, the one trying to help him stand, snaps at him. “Don't say that!”

“I-” His knees give out from under him. Four goes down with him.

“Twilight!”

The others snap their heads in their direction.

It takes one look at Time's face to realize what a fool he'd been. It's almost enough to make him regret it. But no, given another chance, he'd make the same decision over and over again.

“Please...” he tries to say, but it's lost in a gargle of copper and red.

The screaming worsens.

Will Time go to his grave with this on his mind? He can't. Twilight wants to beg him not to. Wants to explain. Free himself of the fear he's clung to for the months they traveled together. But his lungs refuse to cooperate, filling with blood. Every attempt to speak just pains him more and produces mere wheezes.

Not on my behalf, he thinks, a last jolt of strength going through him from frustration and fear and sorrow. He hates the knowledge he'll put his mentor to rest with false hope. That he'll move on, thinking that his training might save him from this fate.

(From Ganondorf, yes, always. Hyrule saved because of the old man. Always cursed not to be known for his heroism, wasn't he?)

High whistling notes edge the confines of his consciousness. Fast notes, frantic, played with the fervor of a dying man, and he almost chuckles thinking he has a much better understanding of this as darkness creeps on the corner of his eyes and heat leeches out of his wound.

He can't see Time anymore. Just vague outlines of all his brothers, the color of their cloaks and hair the best way he can distinguish them by now. Hands push down on his shoulders, lift him gently. Scarred hands. Strands of blonde hair tickle his face.

Wild.

“'M sorry...” he breathes out. Tears prick at his eyes, knowing how much this'll hurt his cub. His little brother who already bears the weight of so many deaths. “Not... f-f-au-lt. Swear,” he tries to sound stern, he really does.

He can't go to his grave otherwise. He'll stay alive just so Wild and Time and the others don't pick up the guilt.

Eh...

She did always call him an optimist.

He's probably in some dying dream, he sees hands the shades of her skin join Wild's, brush his hair away from his eyes. Liquid flames frame a face like hers. The mocking lilt of her voice is broken by a sob though. He's never heard that before.

He wishes he could stop the pain for all of them, but he's tired.

Maybe... maybe Hylia granted him that one last favor. Maybe it's just him and his stupid heart that won't heal right, that makes him see what's not there...

He doesn't have the strength to do more than believe anyway.

“Midna...”

Tender warmth brush over his lips, one last little balm before he goes. It's gentle. So unlike her, so like her too. Eh. He always imagined they'd be cold.

***

Wild sees Twilight's eyes close, and his world snaps in half.

His brother slips from his arms, but thankfully, the woman's grip on him is steady. Familiar. It makes Twilight look at peace, as if he was sleeping in his lover's lap. It's something he always wished for his big brother, from the moment he heard that joke about a princess and a mirror. To have someone who loved him worth the pain he'd gone through.

And he only gets it in death.

It can't end this way. It can't! Mipha! he grapples with the thought and it wins. “MIPHA! PLEASE!”

She'd healed him from the brink so many times. Twilight's even more of a hero than him, so it would only be fair, right? Just this once. Just this once. He can't lose someone else because of his incompetence!

But Mipha has long gone to rest, and no one disturbs their group of heroes from their loss.

Wild feels himself scrap at his old hood, pushes it down over his head. As if that would stop reality from sinking in. He can't look at Twilight's body. He can't. He just wants to wake up in the shrine, like nothing ever happened. Like he hasn't watched-

“It was you!” Warriors snarls at the woman, his tone as biting as a sword's kiss. “All this time! It was you that broke his heart! He said he lost you, but you just left, didn't you?! You could have gone back to him!”

The strange woman – Midna – finally turns away from Twil- from... she turns to Warriors. Tears trail down her cheeks despite the faintest hint of a smile. “I always hoped he would forget me, the sweet fool.”

It's spoken with the sort of affection in one of Twilight's hair ruffling, but the insult feels searing. Wind's on her the next second.

“Don't you dare call him that!” he howls in her face, the shout less intimidated by the snot and tears he can't hold in. “Don't you- Twilight's not- not...”

Somehow, Sky can move. He lifts Wind away from Midna. It breaks the teen's rage, and he curls into Sky's shoulders as if their chosen isn't crying himself.

“He was,” she says, and it strikes Wild that she is just like Twilight had said. Fierce. Powerful. And a bit cruel. Like a jewel barbed in thorns – even if she'd laugh at the description. “It could have been different, if he hadn't been who he was. But he would always make this choice. You know this.”

Memories come to Wild, unbidden, of days in his Hyrule, where the only one he could count on was himself and a wolf. Hordes chasing a beast whilst he picked them off one by one. Enormous monsters fell side by side with his friend. Cold nights buried in fur. Panicked barks getting closer to him as he struggled to stand in the middle of a battlefield.

Goddesses...

The music – when, who, had started, – breaks into a horrible screech that should never come out of an instrument. It's half scream. Half something shattering.

“Why isn't it working?!” Time croaks, hands trembling around his broken ocarina.

“That power was only ever borrowed,” Midna says as if every syllable costs her. “The price would be too high.”

Legend is the next one to move from sorrow to rage. “No! We'll do it again!” He kneels by his bags and he's tossing aside items by the dozens.  “We didn't come all this way for this!”

“You did,” Midna's voice falters. “And so did I. It was always meant to end like this.”

An horrible sinking feeling seizes Wild's heart. “You... knew?”

They freeze.

Midna looks down at Twilight's face and brushes a strand of hair away from his markings. “At the very end of our adventures, I was spared by the Goddess. Salvaged, maybe, from the ruins of forbidden power and the home of my dearest friend. Hylia spoke to me then. Told me.”

Wild sees her chest shudder before her voice breaks.

“Told me that Link and I would only be reunited on the day of his death. That I'd be the one to take his last breath. It was the only way Hyrule could be safe.”

“Fuck Hyrule!” Legend shouts, hoarse. “What is the point-? Every time! F-fuck this kingdom and fuck Hylia! What about us?! Why does she hate us so much?!”

Legend's arms fall to the sides, his grief spent. He stares at his feet and doesn't react when his successor hugs him tight. Warriors gets his other side.

Wild feels numb. He had done his best the first time around, to believe that Hylia wanted the best even when she let his Zelda suffer through her silence. He thought, maybe, her late answer had a purpose. But he can't figure it out. A kingdom she claimed to protect, destroyed before she helped.

His chest hurts. He can't breath right.

Ahead, the air tears with a jarring noise and a burst of black particles. He can't help the flare of hope they bring, the very same magic that Twilight used to become a wolf. But his brother's not moving. Midna's arm is raised toward the black portal.  

“No, no!” Time finally breaks out of his paralysis, reaching out for Twilight's body. “You can't take him!”

“I'm sorry,” she whispers. “I don't have much time left. I must bring him back to his village. I owe him that much.”

None of them stop her from walking back into the shadows, their lost brother in her arms.

***

The greatest threat to their world has finally been defeated. Months of hardship, over. The purpose for which Hylia assembled them, fulfilled. It should have been heralded by a feast, a last evening together before the final goodbyes. The weight of their mission should have been lifted, but now it won't leave them.

They try.

They find the seediest tavern, in the darkest corner of town. They are not looking for a celebration. They want to drown the sorrow in something less painful than grief, be it a bar fight, a hangover or a round of the bard's singing.

All eight of them around a table, nine drinks before them. A toast.

Unshed tears.

Stories. All those times Twilight played big brother to them. Tried to be the reasonable one even when he was smirking under his wolf pelt. Those games of cards he won the pants off Warriors, literally. Those times he teased Legend with his incomprehensible slangs (they'd never know what that one about goat horns mean, would they?). Those nights they woke bundled up under a wolf. Those days he would spend at their bedside, caring for injuries he sniffed out better than most.

They call up more drinks, left the ninth alone, and pour their soul into making themselves almost believe he was still alive. That Midna had taken his sleeping body back where he'd finally get to be in love with her.  

For the time of a few laughs, it works. Then they look at the empty seat.

“He died.” Time drops his head into his hands, smaller than they'd ever seen him before. “Twilight died, and I wasn't even holding him! I was playing that goddess-curse ocarina! He told me! He told me he would die for me and I didn't listen!”

“He would have died for any of us,” Warriors says, weakly. “Just like we would have died for him.”

At the end of the night, when they stumble out, unsteady, Wild picks up the ninth drink and empties it outside.

***

The arrow's tip strikes one eye and detonates.

Cracks in the stone spread a little further. But the statue is still standing. It waited for him when he came back. Here. The only thing still standing in the ruins of the temple. Where his first journey began.

He can't hear her voice as he did before. He has no crest to offer, no proof of his valor to receive a blessing. Even now, the thought makes him want to hurl. To carve out the gifts he'd received from the monster that parades as a goddess right out of his chest.

“Why?!” Wild screams at the unfeeling block of stone.

The damage reaches the statue's middle, and a chunk tears off. A piece of her cloak. Dust follows. He shoots another bomb arrow. Almost grins to see a piece of her hair fly off.

“Why? Why WHYWHYWHY?!”

Fingers close on air. He's emptied his quiver.

Glowing bomb runes materialize in his hands, and he can barely wait out the cooldown time between each new explosion.

He switches to a club.

“Why him?!” He wails at the stone. “Why was it him?! Why not me?!”

The shout drains the last of his strength. With a sob, he falls to his knees.

“You did this to him! You killed my brother!” he spits every inch of venom that's making his chest heave, that burns his eyes and that opened this gaping hole inside him. “Why did you do that?! You're supposed to be good! Everyone told me you protect Hyrule! But you don't! You just send the same mortal do your job over and over again! And now he's... he's DEAD! What's the point of you?!”

“Link!”

Zelda's voice.

It rubs his skin raw that she sounds so happy. She should be disgusted to see such a worthless hero! She should have left him to die in that field!

She stops by the broken entrance to the Temple of Time, her gaze flickering to the statue, to his sorry state. The ecstatic looks vanishes and a far more fitting sadness replaces it.

“Link...?”

For a frightening moment, he thinks he's going to hate her. Hate Zelda for what she represents. He thinks he won't be able to look at her without knowing what she is. That there'll always be a voice in the back of his mind telling him she shares her soul with the unfeeling thing that lead his brother to his death.

“What happened?” she asks, gentle.

“T-Twilight... he's... ”

The club hits the ground.

Zelda closes her arms around him, and he clings to her like she's going to disappear.

***

“It's a boy!”

The wisewoman presents the small squirming body to Time.

Wisps of strawberry blonde hair crown his son's mostly naked head. Not dark enough to be...

He banishes the thought from his head. It's unfair. It's cruel. He can't compare them. His son. His son, he repeats to himself when the little bundle shifts against the inside of his elbow. Malon was right. That button nose is far cuter than his.

He's perfect.

His heart is threatening to jump right out of his chest. He doesn't think he can express all the love he has for this little hylian boy properly. He doesn't think it's possible to love anyone that much. For years, he'd feared a pauper's grave, a hole on the side of the road. A monster getting lucky at last and no one to mourn him. And now he was holding his firstborn child.

Malon had pushed past that fear and the walls he'd built around his heart. Twilight had shown him without a doubt he could have a family.

Twilight had...

It could have been different. But he would always make this choice.

Always choose to save Time at the last possible moment. For Malon. For their son.

Time dabs the corner of his eyes, and loses himself in the feeling of his son's skin against his own. He's so lucky to be able to hold him. To kiss the top of his head. To look at the beauty of his wife and child together. He doesn't know if he deserves it. Doesn't feel like he does anymore. But he can't throw it away. The price was so high. He wants every moment spent well. A full life to shower his child with love, for all the children he might have on the ranch.

I promised you.

Twilight is his successor, his son. A strong, kind young man that died too soon for Time's mistake. If he'd been stronger, if any of them had been a little stronger, perhaps...

He's never resented the lack of recognition over his deeds so ardently before. Never felt the bitterness take root this deep. Everything he was, everything he did, forgotten, lost. Accounts of his deeds, his prowesses, gone. Sword techniques. Tricks. Items. Twilight had been a farmer before Hylia had pushed his fate onto him. How could his own descendant have nothing of Time's knowledge and treasures passed down to him? If he had...  

On the Triforce, he swears. He will pass on everything he knows to his children and his grandchildren after them, make them promise to perpetuate that tradition, so that Twilight might live longer. He couldn't fail him again.

He swears.

He will do anything to help Twilight survive their last quest.

In this world or the next.