#yes i falled and curse in front of YOUNG KIDS

[fullofgutsndopamine]

everything you do (makes it easy to fall in love with you)

tw: cliches, over usage of pet names, insta-love, cursing

they/them for reader but one instance of “Misses” i couldn’t find a way around it

more here

the giggling should’ve given it away at first.

kids giggling and pulling at the each others sleeve is never a good sign, and even as a second year teacher-you know better.

a smile finds its way onto your face regardless, “what’s so funny?” you ask, “hm?”

half the class giggles into their hands, squirms in their seats and doesn’t answer until a student in the front spoke.

listen, you don’t have favorites-they’re all your kids. but if you had to choose, Rosie, the quiet kid that sits in front for all your lessons, speaks quietly and carefully, her glasses falling down her nose as she speaks-would be one of the first

“miss,” rosie giggles, “someone left a present for you.”

you act surprised.

Kids bringing small presents is nothing new; there's James, who brought you a bruised apple in the first month you started teaching. Annie, who comes in from recess with rocks shoved deep in her pockets for you; Sam who never comes inside when the bell rings without a weed in their pocket, a dandelion half squished for you-

when you make your way to your desk, make a show of opening the small shoebox turned Valentine's Day box you made in class, now with little cats on the sides, whiskers on the front; you're expecting half ripped pieces of lined paper in there, little mispelled love notes from your students-

making a show of opening it, you don't have to act surprised when you see it's absouletly filled to the brim with notes-and you were half right, written on ripped lined paper, scribbled between class periods, mispelled everything-

"Miss-"

one of the students calls you back to it as you take a handful out, a mess of: u lok nice 2day and i lik ur dres or i lov u

"Do you want us to tell you who they're from?"

They're giggling behind their hands, like it's an inside joke you somehow missed out on, didn't get the memo on

"Hm," The smirk plays on your face as you grab another one, "I haven't the faintest idea-"

"It was Mister Charlie!" Annie all but squeals, the class erupting into giggles

"Mr.Charlie," Your eyebrows form into one, "Like, the science teacher across the hall, Mr.Charlie? The one with the glasses?”

It's obvious from the notes that it isn't from him even if you've seen him in passing; walking to your classroom in the morning before the students are there, your hands full of bags for the classroom, him insisting on helping you only for you to race him to see who can get to their classrooms first-walking into his room when you know it's his planning period, his hair dishelved, glasses shoved ontop of his head as he's massaging the sides of his forehead only for you to ask, "Does this sound dumb?" when you're trying to draft an email

you know of Charlie

it's hard not to know about charlie. it's only your second year teaching, your first in this school district, and while everyone here is nice, he's the only one who's seemed to go out of his way to make sure you're comfortable. Dropping by on his lunch, his wrinkled paper bag in hand "I packed too much for lunch." only to pass you an orange, or an apple-when you get a note from one of his students and open it only for it to read: Sorry. They needed a second outside of the classroom. Please send something back for them. -C

"Yeah," They pull you back to present time, "He has a crush on you. He loves you."

they're giggling into their palms, oohing and awing as you do when you're young and love is something that makes their face bright red and squirm in their seats-

"Alright," You shake your head, shove the notes back in, hoping they don't see your face bright red, "We have to finish this lesson. C'mon, let's see where were we. Ah, yes. June, can you-"

You wait until it dies down, when you hope these notes are at least a semi forgotten thing, right before you're about to send them to recess, to send the note across the hall. You make sure to staple it down, don't trust the kids to not peak, and send it across the hall

Across the hall, Charlie is pacing.

"No because like," He shakes his head, runs his hand through his hair, "I can't tell them I like them-"

His best friend, the janitor, John, sits backwards in his chair, eating a banana.

He rolls his eyes as he peels the outside carefully, "Right, because that would be embarrassing-"

"No because exactly!" He shakes his head, slams his fist against his other hand, "I have to-"

A tiny knock on the door and charlie whips around.

All his students are gone, in art for the next 45 minutes-don't them to see him like this, stressed about a crush he'd rather die, thanks.

"Hey. Where-."

He immediately drops the rant, drops his voice as he kneels on the floor, very aware of how intimidating he could be to children, and how he towers over the students, tries to make himself smaller around them always

She drags her feet to Charlie, hands him the piece of red construction paper, stapled down, face bright red: "This is from misses, across the hall."

She speaks so quietly charlie has to strain to hear her, would have missed it if he didn't see your writing across the top of it.

His eyes go wide to John, "It's from them."

John cackles, "Is this a code red? Or-"

"Not now, John." charlie hisses, turns to the kid, "Thank you.”

And she nods once, drags her feet out the door and all but runs to the classroom.

"Open it, you idiot." John huffs, throws the banana peel into the wastebasket by the door, misses.

charlie turns it around in his hands, takes a deep breath, and opens it.

Across the hall, you worry you did the wrong thing.

It borders on flirting, the note you sent. Wrote it on a whim, can definitely see the words you scribbled out, wrote over, tried to make it so he doesn't see the first draft

Heard you have a crush on me you wrote, my kids filled my box with notes from "you". I would expect a science teacher to know how to spell 'hydrogen' when you're professing your love to me, but it's sweet, all the same. If you're kids say anything to you, just wanted to fill you in. Sorry, this is dumb.

You're contemplating faking your death, making a new identity, running away-investing in fake mustaches anything then to live in shame of flirting-with another teacher?! A science teacher of all things?! Please.

The note is shoved under your door, and you can hear footsteps all but run away and a door close in the time it takes you to get it.

It's your planning period now, and you turned the lights off and shut the door in hopes of some quiet to get rid of the pounding headache behind your eyes, your glasses shoved over your face

You get it slowly, carefully, walk to the door where there's a thick piece of computer paper, also stapled close, halfway across the room from being shoved with such passion under the door-

your name is scribbled in front, loopy and carefully and you open the note slowly, expecting a restraining order

sunshine,

can't believe my cover was blown away by students, of all things. I heard them whispering in my classroom about this, but didn't think they'd be brave enough to do anything about it.

I'm sorry about my kids. I think when adults look at each other, kids think they're in love. I hope they didn't bother you too much.

-charlie in 303 (The science teacher)

P.S. You look pretty today

Your fingers run over the note, the place where he obviously pressed down too hard with his pencil and left marks in the note, the scratching out he did. The way he added his classroom in, as if you weren't sure who he was, as if he isn't the only one who's showed you kindness, who stayed with you when you locked yourself out of your classroom your second day until John came to unlock the door. Or the snacks he brought you, the cupcake he had a student bring you when he was celebrating his birthday-the kind little gestures he did in the few months you'd known him

You sit on the note for the day.

Not on purpose; your class came back and there was a small fight amongst students, homework to do-the note felt heavy in your pocket, forgotten until you got home and undressed for the day.

"No but like," charlie sighs to John the next day, early before school is suppose to start. John is leaning back in his seat, eating a granola bar and missing his mouth, most of it ending up on the floor, "Valentine's day is in two days and all I did was send a note all but professing my love to another teacher."

"I know," John snorts, "How embarrassing. That has to be like, an HR red flag, right?"

"Not helping, John." charlie groans as he slams his head against his desk. "Maybe this is a sign I should quit. Move across the sea, make a new identity-"

"On a teachers budget?" John snorts, "charlie be serious, you can't even afford to look at those ticket prices-"

"Not helping, you-"

"Besides," John rolls his eyes, throws the wrapper in the trash, "It's just a crush, charlie. Jesus Christ, you act like you've never had one before. They aren't going to write you up for thinking the teacher across the room from you is hot."

charlie groans, digs the heels of his palms into his eyes until he sees stars.

"And besides," John adds, "It's cute. I haven't seen you this excited since college. The flowers are cute, I promise."

charlie doesn't answer, picks up the mini water bottle he ripped the label off of it and picked some of the wild flowers that grow on his walk into school. He can't afford the grocery store bouquets, not on his teaching budget.

"Come on," John groans as he stands, jingles the keys in his hands, "I'll unlock their door before they come. They'll be here in ten minutes."

charlie sighs but obeys, bites back comments on how he worries this is weird, replaces it with: "it's weird you know their schedule."

John huffs, digs into his pocket as he makes a show of using the wrong keys so charlie groans, cranes his neck to check the hallway for any signs of you-

Finally, three wrong keys later, John pushes the door open and gently shoves charlie in, and he stumbles inside, places the water bottle on your desk, and digs around in his pocket for the note he wrote last night when he couldn't sleep, and shoves it deep into your valentines mailbox before he can regret it-and all but runs out.

Your turning the construction paper make-shift valentine you made over in your hand, contemplating what to say, when to confess this crush officially, when your eyes hit the small water bottle again.

the note never said it's from him, but it's all but implied, the same flowers you see in the schoolyard day in and day out, and you drag the small bottle to you, shove your nose deep into the small bouqet.

Your eye catches the note in the box. You almost missed it, halfway through the day already, when you can see the very tip of it, and you carefully have to dig it out, carefully unwrinkled it and put it on your lap

one day left.

according to my kids, we're married. sorry you have to find out this way that you're taken. sorry the last name is kind of shit.

Have a good day, darling. Keep the tiny humans alive until 3:05.

-C (303, Science teacher)

PS You look beautiful today

A smile creeps onto your face, and a plan forms in your head.

Being friends with the janitor comes with many perks. You didn't originally become friends just for those perks, believe you should treat everyone kindly, but when charlie is in one of his kid's specials (It's Thursday, so you know it's music class and you also know, from walking past the room, that charlie takes the class very seriously, and likes to join in when he can) and you're able to find John, hiding in his room (More of a make shift closet) and ask him to unlock charlie’s door.

"I worry this goes against a school rule," You whisper, bouncing on your heels, "Like, an unspoken rule."

John smells heavy of nicotine and grease (somehow) but he's humming as he unlocks the door, "Nah," He shakes his head, "Just mention me in y'all's speech when y'all are married. Or, name a kid after me."

You gasp, gently hit his arm, "John we are not getting married. Or having kids. I don't even know him. We're just two co-workers who are being nice."

John physically bites his tongue to hold back any comments on first love, or how many text charlie’s sent about you instead nods: "Mhm." as the door opens.

The room is darker without charlie. You know in your head it's due to the lights being out, and not actually because of his lack of presence, but he definitely brings something to the stone walls that's missing without him.

"Quick, quick quick," John teases as he leans against the doorframe, jingles his keys, that smirk on his face he always seems to wear, "Let's go."

You squeal, all but run to his desk, the small bouquet of construction paper flowers on green pipe cleaners you folded on lunch in a small paper milk carton, a piece of paper under it: One more day to go. Sorry these aren't real. From your wife

And you all but run out as John laughs at you.

Valentine's Day comes, and it feels like it's hangng over your shoulders, some big d-day you've been dreading and waiting for.

charlie is too chicken shit to ask you out to your face. He knows this, hell-you probably know that too, but he still comes in, a small cup he usually reserves for his kid's birthdays, plastic with your name down the side, filled with your favorite candy (gotten the answer from grilling your kids at lunch and lowkey bribing them) a note taped to the outside in a bright pink envelope he folded up.

He makes his way to your room, sets it in the middle, hesitates, contemplates if he should, and leaves before he can second guess it.

You're happy you saw the cup before your students, or you would've never heard the end of it.

Your hands all but shake as you take the paper out, his handwriting slanted and scribbled like he wrote it in a hurry:

It's so fucked that I couldn't say this straight to your face.

Will you go out with me? Tonight, 8pm. Tammy's Diner in town.

Let me know.

-c

The absence of his room number, his title, makes you smile, blushing as you re-read the note, him finally asking you out. You contemplated asking him out since you started here, debating with it every ride home in complete silence, beating yourself up for not doing it.

You open your desk up, grab a piece of paper, and get to work.

charlie is googling teaching jobs in the city when one of your students walks in, wide eyed, a note in their small hands. He all but runs to them, gives them a hand full of candy as they leave happily, and he takes a deep breathe, opens the note

Can't wait

I've been waiting for you to ask me out.

Our class party is at noon. Bring your class and we can have a little combined party, it'll be fun.

Wear your green tie, it's my favorite.

-Your excited wife

"And that class, is when you carry the one. Now-"

The yell rips through the air, all but quiet, and the class whips around, wide eyed, wondering what the yelling is about, the loud Woo that rips through the air.

A smile forms on the edge of your lips, "C'mon guys, we're almost done. When this is over, we have a party with Mr.Charlie’s class. C'mon. Now, if the one is carried-"

[lillie98]

How to Save the World—Stranger Things 5

I’ve had some time to sleep on the episode titles and think about them, read theories, etc. and I now believe they might be real.

Hear me out: Stranger Things is all about cycles, parallels, tropes happening over and over again. The Duffers love taking a moment and repeating it in slightly different ways to prove a point. The story started with “The Vanishing of Will Byers” because we needed to place a small, innocent child in the center of our story, something to bring our character together and drive them to action. Well, that child is no longer in danger and our team is ripping apart at the seams. It’s almost like we need something similar to reunite everyone and drive them to action again.

Remember: The Duffers love parallels. Will’s disappearance brought his deeply fractured family together, uniting them for a common cause. It also brought Nancy and Jon together when their families needed them most. Now, the Byers are a united front, ready to tackle any monster that comes their way. They are the glorification of the avant-gard family. Now which family is struggling? The Wheelers. The perfect, All-American Nuclear Family: Mom, Dad, 3 kids, and a picket fence. They look perfect to the outside world, but behind closed doors, they are deeply struggling. They don’t communicate, the parents have no idea what’s happening in their children’s lives, and if they’re not careful, if they don’t come together and form a united front—they’re going to lose everything, potentially causing the end of the world. (Why? I haven’t gotten that far yet!)

Now, how do we inspire them to action? Maybe by taking the child who was born to save their crumbling marriage—the one has seen everything but, up until this point, been too young to contribute. Now, she’ll be the same age Will was when he disappeared and Mike and Will are the same age as Jon and Nancy. The Duffers are trying to illustrate the idea of “The Next Generation.” This evil, this Upside Down dimension is NEVER going to stop until someone from the Wheeler and Byers families breaks the cycle. Children will continue to vanish, the world will continue to crumble, until someone steps up and says ENOUGH. The Wheelers and Byers (parents and children) must step up and face their pasts in order to move forward.

The “Stranger Things” are not only LGBTQ+ matters, they are the skeletons we hide in the closet that literally eat us alive. They are the dark, festering parts of ourselves we don’t let anyone else see. The invisible cancers that slowly and silently kill us. Until we face them head on, until we bring them to the light, they will NEVER die. Stranger Things is about owning your past, facing your fears, and finding the light again.

So yes, Stranger Things will end with Will Byers making it home from Mike Wheeler’s house on November 6, 1983, but not in a time traveling way, in a finally letting go of that scared, pained little boy who thought the world was better off without him. It’s Mike accepting his sexuality and place in his family. His role as a leader. It’s Joyce accepting love from Hopper, who must accept that he is not actually cursed, but that sometimes, bad things happen to good people, even when they think they’re doing the right thing (Vietnam). it’s Karen and Ted falling in love again and fighting to save their family. It’s Eleven discovering that love, not anger, should fuel her powers. It’s mourning your stolen childhood while stepping into the version of yourself that child never got to be. It’s stopping the cycle and creating a better world for the Will Byers and Mike Wheelers and Jane Hoppers of tomorrow. THAT’S how you become a Hero.

[luimagines]

Honor Among Gods

Ok. This is another purely indulgent thing.

Those who've been here a while would remember that there was once a character named Hesper. She is a demigod, daughter of Nyx.

My good friend @thesoftieanon made her and well... We went wild.

I'm not kidding. This is over 20 pages long. And I'm posting it not only to share one of my favorite short stories I've cowritten with someone since making this blog, but this is here for me because the formatting makes it easier to reread. XD

This is a universe where Hesper got paired with The Fierce Deity. It is naturally written in his point of view. Enjoy.

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

When he was able to open his eyes again, he was undeterred by the sight of monsters and battle. He got right to work to take care of the problem, knowing that his host was desperate at best to eliminate these pests.

These monsters were stronger than he knew his host could handle. It didn’t take a genius to conclude this was why his help was required. 

The boys around him were familiar forces at this point. He could feel them from a distance but now he had faces to the forces he could only remotely feel. 

Except for one.

A young woman traveled with them at this point. She fought valiantly, growling back at the beast in front of her. She fought like none other he had ever seen before. She wore dark clothing and nearly rivaled his own height without the restrictions of his host. He couldn’t see her face from the cloth that covered every part of her body.

There was an energy about her. Something that called for his respect and devotion. She was nowhere near as overbearing as the Great Ones, but surely, unmistakingly one of them.

He was so distracted by the sight of someone new and different, that the monster, despite bleeding profusely from multiple gashes across its body, proceeded to knock her off her feet and drive its weapon into her shoulder.

The Fierce Deity sprang into action and body-slammed the creature without a second thought, finishing the beast with a solid swipe to the neck. He turned and pulled the weapon out of the girl. In retrospect, he should have been more gentle. He regrets his rash actions immediately. 

She yells in pain but it gets stuck in her throat at the sight of him towering above her. His own breath gets stuck in her throat. She surely belongs among the Great Ones. Her eyes are filled with innumerable stars. There’s a depth and alluring presence to them. He’d dare to stare for longer had another cry of anguish not catch his attention. 

The battle continues to rage on around him and his work is still needed.

The Fierce Deity continues to fight, leaving the young goddess behind. As the fight comes to a close, his host removes him once more and he has returned to the world of darkness around him. As darkness falls on the outside world, his host rests for the day. It is here that the old god decides to ask about the maiden from before.

“Hero.” He calls into the mind of his chosen.

He feels the body wither and groan in response.  Exhaustion plagues his mind and body heavily, but his curiosity runs deeper than the needs of mortals. “Yes?” 

“Tell me about the Great One’s kin.” He says, because he’s not entirely sure if she herself is one of the Great Ones or merely a Lesser One. He is sure, however, about her status among mortals is not one and the same.

“The what?” The once boy replies.

“The young woman.” He feels himself growing impatient. Who else could he be possibly talking about other than one of the most breathtaking individuals he has ever seen among the sixteen realms?

His host groans once more. Vaguely, the cursed one can feel the sluggish mind of his host put the dots together to whom he may be talking about. “Woman…. Hesper? Are you talking about Hesper?”

A soothing balm covers his irritation in an instant. He hums and echoes the name pleasantly. “Hesper. So that is her name… Divine, indeed. Tell me more.”

“No.”

“Boy-”

“No. It’s three in the morning. I am trying to sleep.”

That does not dissuade the old god.

It takes the course of multiple days, but the Fierce Deity eventually gleans information about the girl and her kin. She is from a distant realm beyond their borders of reality. She is in fact a daughter of the Great Ones- but of her own realm. There appear to be many Great Ones where she is from. She is a daughter of a goddess named Nyx- a goddess and personification of night, and mother to many monsters and other Great Ones. 

However, Hesper herself is not a Great One, much to his disappointment and displeasure. She is half-mortal. There are many like her in her realm. Such one travels with the group as well. A young boy no older than seven. The Deity is told that the boy cannot speak with his tongue and rather uses his hands much like another boy he used to know. He is the opposite of his half-sister. She is dark and of the night. The boy is bright and of the day. To his knowledge, the boy was abandoned by his mother for not sticking to the code of her other children.

The Fierce Deity feels an indignant twitch in his eye once he is told but he cannot speak against such ones for his own sake. Hesper, however, does not seem to mind. The boy, named Sol, is very much her kin and responsibility.

When asked about her attire, the Deity was told that Hesper was born with a curse and natural susceptibility to sunlight. She cannot be touched by it or she will suffer.

Knowing all of this only causes the old god to want to know more about her.

Those eyes that he stared into haunt with every waking second. And for an immortal being without any need for rest, he has a lot of time on his hands to think of her. Should it come to it, he would fight by her side. He would devote himself to her. He would be her sword and her shield so she wouldn’t ever have to come near danger ever again. He cannot bear the thought of such a wondrous creature falling in the path of another blade. He still remembers her scream of pain. It is maddening.

Curiously, one day, the young boy Sol finds him among the hidden weapons and masks belonging to his host. The Fierce Deity is vaguely aware of the boy’s spirit. He is energetic and flighty- prone to joking with seemingly never-ending mischievous intentions.

He picks up the mask and studies him. The god doesn’t know of the boy’s intentions with his prison but he wonders how he passes the guard of his host. This is not a normal occurrence.

The boy drops the mask and something falls on top of it- cracking the visage.

The chains rattle around him and the Fierce Deity can feel the power of the prison slipping away as the seconds pass. It takes only a moment for him to find the weakest link and strike through it.

He is free.

His body forms from under the rubble and the boy stares up at him with what can only describe as shock and awe. It appears that while he dropped the mask, many things fell over as well, falling on top of the mask to strike just where it needed to. A lucky strike, so to speak.

His old host stands next to the boy, equally shocked and on edge. Any words he may have intended to say to the youngest die on his tongue once his eyes land on his imposing figure. His old host is no longer the boy he once knew. Pride swells up in him to see the man he has grown into. But neither of them are the one he wishes to see the most right now.

As if summoned by the commotion, Hesper herself comes from the woodwork, instantly b-lining for her young brother.

As soon as she nears, the deity drops to his knee, bowing toward the daughter of night.

She freezes at the sight of him, looking between him and his former host. She takes a step back. Hesper clears her throat and looks away from him. “... Is this normal?”

The Fierce Deity is unfamiliar with the emotions causing his heart to race but he knows that she is worthy of the honor and respect he gives her. “All others shield themselves from the morning sun- yet it is the starlight’s beauty that gains the admiration of mere men. I finally understand where they meet their folly."

Her jaw falls softly. Although it is covered by the cloth to shield her from the afternoon rays, he can see the shock drape over her face. She spins around, trying to find some sort of response to his words but no one is able to help her. She gulps. “I… thank you?”

His former host gains his sense of self first. He walks toward the two of them, putting himself in between. “Hesper, I’d like to apologize on his behalf-”

“Do not apologize for me.” The Deity growls. “I’ve waited for millennia. I refuse to wait any longer.”

"Millennia for what?? You- who are you?" Hesper blinks, completely perplexed. She then squints, recalling a time she'd gotten messed up on the battlefield no less than a week ago. "Wait... it's you. The deit- why are you bowing to me?"

Her recognition of him is exciting. The Fierce Deity straightens in his pose, keeping his knee firmly on the first floor. "Because you are the most exquisite jewel among mortal men."

Hesper gulps again, taking another step back. A hand raises, and a finger points towards her as if to question if he’s truly talking about her. As if he’d say that about anyone else. It’s a soft look. Her eyes widen, and a blush peeks out from under her mask. "W... what?"

"You are a daughter of the night." He says easily. "The jewels of the heavens are your birthright. And I am forever at your beck and call, my queen."

The Fierce Deity is too taken by the young woman in front of him to notice that the camp has gone silent. They are watching the interaction with intense interest. Sol looks around the group, not quite understanding what is transpiring.

Time’s jaw has dropped as well. Something compels him to attempt to regain control over the situation. Before he can act, however, Sol tugs on his sleeve. He signs. ‘Is he bad? Like the gods at home?’

Time sighs and shakes his head. "Yes and no. But I think you and your sister are safe."

‘Okay... why is he saying all that stuff about Hesper?’ Sol lights up suddenly. ‘Does he like her?? Is that what he meant by jewel?’

Time is fighting back the second-hand embarrassment as much as he can. "It appears soooo… He's always been more on the poetic side of prose."

He is not going to tell Sol that FD tried to farm him for information about his sister.

‘Oh, I see! Well, hopefully he doesn't just like her for her power, she hates that.’ Sol turns just in time to make eye contact with FD and waves with a grin.

The Fierce Deity smiles back in kind, making even Time take a step back. He waves and beckons the small child closer.

Sol runs up, no hesitation, and Hesper tenses. ‘Hi, I'm Sol! You like my big sister, huh?’

The old god’s face softens at the sign. The boy looks a lot like Link did when he was little. He reaches out to ruffle the hair of the younger one. "I've been bewitched by her splendor, little one. There is little who can compare. Are you the protector of this maiden?"

‘Yeah! If you wanna date my sister, you can't just use fancy words! You gotta pass my test!’

"Ah, Sol-" Hesper starts, alarmed.

The Fierce Deity grins. "Of course! A maiden of her caliber cannot be won alone by fanciful speech."

He reaches over, picking him up effortlessly and puts him on his shoulders. "Tell me, child, what quest is in need of pursuing?"

Sol grins back. ‘Well, to start, what do you like about her? Is she just a jewel to you?’

Hesper keeps her hand against her heart, watching the interaction with bated breath and a hand on a blade. Her heart is pounding in her chest.

"A jewel is more than its shine and splendor." He says easily, holding his hand out for her to take as he makes his way into the middle of the camp. It wouldn't look well on his part to leave her behind, now would it.

"I was enamored by her wit." He admits. "And her fortitude."

Hesper takes it after he says that, keeping the other readily on her blade.

‘Fortitude? What's that mean? Sounds cool!’ Sol, however, is unbothered by this hulking man, singing the praises of his older sister. He is very quickly gaining his approval.

"It means to take courage despite the pain." The old god whispers, looking at her reaction. There's no mistaking that he's smitten with her. Something that the rest of the group are quick to clue in on.

As well as the young woman. Despite her unwillingness to instantly trust this man, his face speaks of nothing but genuine emotion and intention. Does… he truly mean what he says?

The grip on her blade loosens.

Sol keeps signing. ‘Wow, you know her really well! How long have you been in love with her?’ 

"Sol!" Time cuts him off, mortified on Hesper's behalf. "I think that's a conversation for them to have."

"No way, this is getting good!" Legend waves him off.

Time pinches the bridge of his nose. "You're all horrible."

Sol tilts his head. ‘I'm just saying! He's obviously known her for a while, but she doesn't know him at all!’

"That's... why it should be a conversation between us." Hesper says quietly.

‘Oh? So you're okay with him?’

"... For now." She decides, releasing her blade entirely.

‘Okay! Good job, you passed for now!’

Even more pride swells within the chest of the deity. He finds himself standing straighter and smiles at the young boy on his shoulders. He feels as if he is beaming. “My many thanks.”

Sol clambers off him to go play with Wind, leaving his sister behind and thoroughly embarrassed. The deity watches his interest. He’s admittedly always had a soft spot for little ones. 

Hesper on the other hand has succumbed to her embarrassment, covering her face with one of her hands.  Her voice is quiet and strained. A mere squeak of its usual glory. “Oh my gods…”

The Fierce Deity sees no problem with this. He turns to her once again, bending at his knee with his head down. "My queen."

He awaits her direction.

"Ah- you don't have to bow, standing or sitting or- whatever you want to do is fine!" Hesper puts her hands out in an attempt to stop him from showing the proper respect she deserves. He does not understand why she attempts this. He can only assume that she's not used to this kind of treatment. Although he cannot imagine why.

Something about that level of innocence ignites his wicked streak. He smirks a bit. "And if I want to do this?"

"For crying out loud, don't make it harder on the poor girl." Time groans.

"... That's fine." Hesper barely manages to squeak out. She can't look at him. The deity hadn’t even thought it was possible for her to appear bashful. It’s an endearing look on her.

The Fierce Deity reaches out, brushing a bit of hair out of her face. "Beautiful... What a lovely shade you don, dearest.”

"I-I'm going to patrol-!" Hesper yells, taking a step back into the shadows and disappearing in a blink of an eye.

He blinks as he stares into the space where she once had been. Shadow travel? Exquisite. Is there anything she isn’t capable of? Curse aside, of course.

"Awwww..." Sky pouts. "She left before it got good."

Time is internally screaming. This has already gotten out of hand. He can't do anything to reel him in and he knows it.

Hesper is on her own, he decides. Which is unfortunate for her, but entertaining for everyone else.

Sol somehow has the sense to sign 'Hey mister, I think you overdid it.'

Wind nods along with him. "She's not used to compliments, take it from me. I called her pretty once and she hid her face again!"

The Fierce Deity frowns. "Is there such a thing? How could she not get compliments? She's one of a kind. A daughter of the Great One.... does she not have suitors?"

Sol shakes his head. 'Everyone back home thinks she's scary... at least that's what she said.’

Wind slowly nods along, wincing.

The old god glares in the space beyond the group. "Unacceptable.”

'I mean they're scared of Momma too, but I dunno why.' Sol shrugs. 'They're not scared of me.'

Sol does not understand that many fear such creatures of the night no matter what their size or shape. Their intentions and actions do not matter to the creatures of the day. However, that is of little excuse. The Fierce Deity doesn’t understand it either.

"Cowards."

The old god takes a deep breath. 

Sol shrugs and goes back to playing with Wind.

It isn’t long until Sol returns and all but tackles the deity. ‘I have a question.’

“And what is it you intend to ask, little one?” The Deity turns to look at the young boy. He allows him to crawl over him, digging into his sides and his armor to perch himself over his shoulder.

‘Are you going to marry my sister?’

“If she’ll have me.”

Sol nods sagely. ’You’ll need an apple.’

“An apple?” Another thing the deity does not understand. “Is such a thing required for the hand of maidens where you’re from?”

Sol nods once again, more enthusiastically. ‘You have to throw it to her. If she catches it, she’ll marry you.’

The Fierce Deity remembers this and allows the child to get off of him as he returns to playing around with the other boys. He knows he must win over the young woman first but such knowledge is useful for the future.

Hesper doesn’t return until the break of twilight. The Fierce Deity had been attending and entertaining the younger ones when Sol had all but collapsed against him. Hesper collects the child without missing a beat and prepares his bedroll in a moment.

The old god is panicking on the inside but he's outwardly looking confused. "...I wasn't aware he was that thoroughly exhausted."

"He's not. It's his curse." Hesper picks up her brother's body, which appears limp and lifeless. "He can only be active in the light of day. No light; it's like he's dead. But he's just sleeping."

The Fierce Deity shudders at the thought, but it's quickly replaced by thinly veiled rage. "Who would dare put a curse on a child?"

"The gods of our world." Hesper says it so calmly... and then she looks at him. "They're afraid of what we'd do without them there."

"Well as I recall, they're not here." He growls. "Can this be undone?"

"It took a god to do it, so I'd imagine it'd take a god to undo it." Hesper goes through the routine of putting Sol to bed; arms over his blanket so he'll wake sooner in the morning. "Nothing else I've tried has worked, anyways."

The old god stares after the sleeping child.

"...A god you say..." He whispers, running his hands over Sol's bangs. He takes a knee once more and bows his head toward the young woman. "Is that all there is to it?”

"... It was the king of the gods who did it." The word 'king' is bitter on her tongue. "His word overpowers all others in our world. I know most of you are god slayers, so that might not even matter, but... be careful."

The Fierce Deity hums; already aware such things would come with a price and gently puts the back of his finger on Sol's cheek. The child is cold.

Something is stirred within him. Ancient. Primal.

"I'll find a way."

"I know. I could see you thinking about it as soon as I mentioned gods." Hesper sighs, already cluing in to the fact she can't sway him. Still, she makes him look at her. "I mean it, though. Find your way if you want, but don't be reckless. Please."

The Fierce Deity stills- the storm in his mind clearing as she pulls him from his thoughts. Her hands. They're on him. She's touching him. Willingly.

He backs down to step to her level. 

"Yes... As you wish, Jewel." He whispers, unable to deny the look in her eye. His heart is pounding in his chest. What is this feeling?

"Thank you." She nods, checks on Sol one last time, then makes her way around the camp, checking in on the boys and seeing them off to bed.

... She can't believe she did that.

He can't believe she just did that.

He could have touched her back. He could have held her. He could have held her hand. He could have felt her skin and its warmth, its tone, its smooth silk-like quality.

A rare creature- both alluring and captivating. To humble him. To excite him.

He's never felt like a man until this point.

His eyes follow her as she moves through the camp.

This child means the world to her.

He'll protect them for the night.

Hesper looks back at him after a moment- Time does as well.

"Will you be sleeping?" She asks their shared question. She isn't sure if he needs sleep, but it never hurts to ask.

It takes a moment for the deity to register that she was speaking to him. When it hits he looks ashamed of not answering her sooner.

"No." He says. "You may rest for tonight. I have no plans for slumber."

She nods, then says goodnight to Time, returning to her brother's side. Instead of lying on a bedroll, she leans against the tree by his head, just shy of the deity's reach. If she’s sleeping, she’s in no hurry to do so.

The temptation the deity didn't know he'd have to restrain. He steadies himself to look away from her and the child, looking instead to the rest of the group and beyond.

He could do it. He could give in to everything he desires.

But she ran from mere words.

He would never live down pushing her away.  So he sits still. Like a statue.

And behaves himself.

Even if he allows himself to fantasize in the meantime.

Hesper, for her part, glances at him, out of the corner of her eye.

He's really not that bad, she's decided. He's just... not used to people, she thinks. Yeah... not used to people. That made two of them, really.

She looks back into the forest, letting out a quiet sigh. Part of her is nervous. The last time someone took an interest in her, it was… It went bad, to say the least. She doesn't want that again.

But so far he seemed good. ...Overwhelming on the compliments, but good.

Oh gosh, the compliments. How could someone find that much to compliment her on? And not one thing about her power.

Courage.

Of course that's what he liked.

... It was cute, in a way. He's... he's pretty cute.

She'll admit that to herself. She can allow that.

She’s smiling a little when she nods off.

Seeing the faint smile on her face puts the deity a little more at ease. Time explains to the others (as they all tuck themselves in for the night) that they have nothing to fear from the old god and with time, they all turn in for the night as well and sleep peacefully.

Time gives one last glance at the large male before he also puts his head against his bed roll. The deity has seen him grow from boy to man- his old host has done much for him. The main one being his restraint- or rather- his desire to not abuse his power while he was imprisoned. 

He will look after all of them. All of them. These young heroes of courage deserve to worry less about their journeys.

But as for Hesper...

He looks back to the child beside her.

The Fierce Deity vows that he will take care of that one, especially.

Hours pass and Hesper wakes with a start, as usual.

Dawn is coming. She checks to ensure she's properly covered, then gets up to check around the camp. She's so into her usual routine she forgets there's now a deity for a moment until she sees him.

"... Oh. Morning."

The Fierce Deity has already checked the perimeter and has returned from his second round. He bows to her. "Good dawn, Jewel."

She huffs in amusement. "You know, I’m not sure how I'm supposed to address you. Do you have a name or title you want us to use?"

Here, his cool confidence falters.

"I am known as the Fierce Deity. A war god. Protector of Termina......Cursed by the goddess to the form of a mask....and.... I have no other name."

"No other... ?" Hesper's eyes show she's frowning. "That's... horrible. I'm sorry to hear that."

The Deity flushes. "Gods of no honor receive none."

Demise is a name the Hylians gave him but he is known as The Demise. Or The Void. Titles are given when they have either fulfilled or gained their intended purpose. In which they are shortly after disposed of in one way or another.

Demise didn't approve of that and sought vengeance. 

The deity himself fought back and was cursed.

But he was never meant to be loved. So he has no name. He knows this.

"I have accepted this."

"You have more honor than any god I know." She blurts. She's... surprised by how quickly it comes out. But she keeps going. "You... you deserve a name.”

His head snaps up to meet her head-on. "... I wouldn't dare… presume...."

"What name would you want? If... if you had one." It's not fair, Hesper laments in her heart. He should have one. Screw the regulations. He's done so much, for so long. She can see it on his face. He's earned a name. She'll name him herself if no one else will.

The deity looks to the ground. No one had ever asked him that before. He didn't think it would have been worth considering.

He looks at the boys. They all share the same name. It would be strange to take it for himself.

He frowns, feeling frustrated for not being able to give his queen an adequate answer. "I never gave it much thought. It was never of importance. I don't... I don't know..."

"That's okay." She assures him. "I... you don't have to take it if you don't like it, but... what about Thárros? It's... it's in my mother tongue, but... it means Courage."

"Thárros..." The name rolls off his tongue smoothly. 

"Hesper..." He says her name for comparison. Frankly, he finds that her name is much sweeter on his tongue. But the note that the first name was chosen by his queen, in her maiden tongue no less, fills him with an indecipherable warmth. He's never been exposed to this sort of warmth before. He takes ahold of it.

"Thárros." He echoes himself. "You may call me that. If you desire, Jewel."

Her eyes crinkle, glimmering a little, and she nods. "I will. It's a pleasure to meet you, Thárros. And... you can call me Hesper, if you want. But Jewel's fine, too."

Dawn peeks over the horizon, and Hesper steps into the shade. The light makes contact with Sol's arm and a moment later he opens his eyes, once again full of life as he sits up and yawns. 'Morning...'

Wild sits up in another part of camp, going to make breakfast.

Thárros lets it rumble around his brain. It's a nice name. He smiles, smiling wider when Sol awakens. "Good morning, little one."

Time and Warrior both wake up soon after, getting ready for the day as well. They both send him nods of acknowledgement. He returns them with ease.

'Morning, Mister. How'd you sleep?' He yawns again, still not enough sunlight in his system yet. 'Oh! Did Hesper miss the sun today?'

"Yes, Sol, I'm over here." Hesper answers the last part for him.

"Miss the sun?" The Fierce Deity, now known as Thárros, looks over and tilts his head. Strange. But she is of the night.

"I didn't sleep." He responds to the child's earlier question. "I have no need for it."

'Oh, that’s cool. Yeah, Hesper wears so much clothes because she's allergic to the sun. It'll hurt her really bad if it touches her skin, so I always check.' Sol signs his understanding, but it doesn't take too much to decipher Sol processes Hesper's curse as an allergy. 'She’s only not missed it once, though, she's really good about it.'

Something in the old god’s heart breaks. That’s right, they’re both cursed. Forever shunned from either side of the day. How can they remain a family this way?

He nods in understanding, ruffling Sol’s hair in the process. "She must cherish you greatly. It's good that you look after her the way you do."

He'll break her curse too. He swears by this as well.

'Uh huh, we're really close! Even if she can't run around and play tag with Wind and I around camp, she's really good at hide and seek in the forest! She'll find me, sneak under my feet and toss me in the air! It's super fun! ' As the sun keeps rising, he gains more energy and signs faster. 'And we'll sit close during meals and after dinner we'll make up stories if I'm not playing with Wind and she taught me how to use a dagger and sneak and-!'

"Breakfast is ready!"

'Oo, breakfast! I'll be back with a plate for you, sis!' And off he runs.

Hesper laughs. "Ever the energetic one~"

Thárros shakes his head. "Most are at his age."

He then points to his old host, who's too busy trying to give out the food in an organized manner. "He was just as bad, if not worse."

Hesper chuckles. "I believe it. Though I'm willing to bet Sol can be energetic much longer than he ever was."

He hums. "....No. Not quite.  The boy would stay awake for days on end. Never ceasing his quest for justice… I'm afraid Sol could not have done the same. Not with the curse upon him."

"Oh, I almost forgot he was a child hero." Hesper sighs. "I can't stand those... why must they fight so young?"

"Why indeed?" Thárros’ hand flexes over his knee. "I suppose the heroes all have their own curses to bear... It is the same with your Great Ones."

Well, I wouldn’t call them all great. Not when they treat the world as some toy they can toss away when it bores them." The glint in her eyes darkens briefly, then she looks up as her brother starts running back. "... Don’t tell Sol I said that."

The deity nods, even further fascinated by the woman next to him.

"I am not allowed to call The Great Ones anything but." He murmurs. "But it appears we aren't as different as I originally thought."

"Is that so? I suppose I should be nicer to them, but... well, I'm only nice to the gods I respect. Outside my family, that's just you." Hesper smiles as Sol reaches them, offering food. "Oh, I see you have three plates. You got one for Thárros too?"

Sol makes the connection quickly and nods, offering the deity a plate. He does not question the name.

Thárros subtly smiles and eases the weight off of the little one. "Thank you."

The deity begins to eat the strange meal. He's never had someone cook for him before either. He wasn't entirely sure he needed to eat. But the smell was kind and the other took no heed in questioning the methods behind it.

He takes a bite.

'You're welcome!' Sol plops down, separating the best slice of meat from the rest of his meal and eating the rest. Notably, Hesper does the same.

Naturally, the deity notices this, but he doesn't understand. There's many customs he hasn't needed to learn and so he has no reason to believe that it's anything strange to do. Not to mention they grew up with separate Great Ones to dictate the manner of conduct.

He makes no comment on it and simply eats like he's seen his old host do.

They both finish except for that one piece, and Sol turns to get Hesper's plate, sliding her remaining portion onto his. He walks over to the fire and scrapes them both in, signing 'For Mama.'

"... Nyx and Thárros." Hesper murmurs quietly.

Sol goes about collecting plates and helping them get clean while Hesper starts packing up.

That takes him by surprise.

An offering?

For him, no less.

If it was for their mother, he would understand more but for him? He's a lesser god. An ant of a divine being. He's no better than they are. Why would they offer something to him? 

They pack up relatively quickly and make their way through the forest once more. He stays close to the back of the group, keeping quiet to not disturb the others as much as he can avoid. It appears Hesper is of the same train of thought, although she still isn’t quite sure what to make of him.

Hours turn to days turn to weeks turn to months. They are no better off finding the cure to their problem than he is finding the cure to the curses of the divine ones within the group.

The lack of progress is maddening. Thárros, as he is slowly beginning to grow accustomed to being called, has always considered himself a man of action and of results. To have nowhere to begin and no direction to follow is not in his nature.

However, that does not stop him from doting on Hesper whenever he has the time. And should the boys permit it, Sol takes it upon himself to use his body as his personal climbing gym. It warms Thárros’ heart that the boy is so welcoming of his presence. Link as a child was curious and desperate at best, but still wary. 

It is a moment where he finds himself alone on patrol that he feels something shift in the air. He instantly puts his hand on the hilt of his blade. It is the middle of the day and he is in a clearing. Only someone foolish enough to not know who he is would threaten him here.

"... You're Thárros, yes? My sister speaks fondly of you."

The man spins on his heel, coming face to face with a woman he has never seen before but his confidence is shaken. A Great One. Her power is beyond his own. She stands as the dawning sun. Warm and giving, hopeful to a fault but dim. She does not stand in the direct light but she glows in the way a divine being can. He knows not who she is but respect has always been given until taken away.

His battle mask comes on.

He nods to her, bowing for good measure. "I am quite fond of her as well. May I ask of your name, Great One?"

"Yes, I can see it." Her smile is warm towards him, much like Hesper's. “I am called Hemera, goddess of the dawn and giver of days. Your loyalty to my sister is clear... You even wish to break the curse on her, from what I hear. I believe I can help with that."

Thárros' attention snaps to her. He takes a step closer despite his better judgment. "How?"

"I have crafted a bracelet for her... with it, she can walk in whichever light she wishes." She produces the item, offering it to him. "All it needs now is the touch of a deity from this world to be finished. I trust you wouldn't mind?"

He drops to take a knee. "It would be my greatest honor.”

Hemera is pleased. "Yes... you two are indeed a good match, just as I thought. May you live long lives together."

He nods, tenderly biting his lip from the inside. He cannot show weakness. He cannot fail.

It's never been this easy before. Truly there isn't any other catch to this.

Hemera presses the bracelet into his hand with a nod and a smile. It gains a shimmer to it; so quick it almost didn't seem real.

"I'll leave you to it, then." She stands and turns to leave. "... Thank you, Thárros. To you and your boys; for taking care of them when we can't."

He looks down into his palm and tucks the bracelet into his chest. Should he push his luck?

"And the boy?" He asks tentatively. "The child is cursed as well… Is that your domain? Can you help?"

Hemera looks sad at that. "I would help Sol if I could, but... we are both at the mercy of night. I'm afraid I can't help him."

Thárros stands. "...Is there a Great One who could?"

He refuses to only have one solution. He had promised Hesper to help her little brother. He has to push a bit further to make headway on his vows.

Hemera thinks about it. "... My father might. Erebus, the darkness itself. But... he has no love for either of them. He will not give you a solution as freely."

He nods; body rigid with pure determination. "I am willing to pay any price for either of them."

"Careful what you vow, Thárros." Hemera warns. "I have no doubt he'll use it against you if he can. ... Good luck on your quest. I hope you can free him."

His grip on the bracelet tightens. "I'm well aware."

He sees her off and looks back to the token in his hands.

He knows the Great One would rather have him sacrifice himself. But he was already imprisoned once. Worse case scenario he must cease to exist.

For Hesper?

He'd take that plunge.

His world has long grown out of a use for him and the Great Ones above him care not for his fate.

He'd do anything.

Thárros returns to camp quickly. He finds Hesper relatively quickly. She had fallen asleep in the shade of a great oak, a rare break she has given herself. He kneels beside her and regrettably shakes her shoulder gently. She rests so few and far between… but this, he feels, is beyond a moment of reprieve. 

Hesper's eyes open and she stretches, grunting.

Not her most comfortable sleep, but better than none at all.

"Good dawn, Thárros." She’s started keying in when he's around, but she still blinks twice when she realizes he's closer than she thought. "... Did something happen?"

He bows toward her again. "I've had a visitor, Jewel."

He keeps his head low, waiting for her reaction. "A Great One by the name of Hemera."

"Hemera was here?" There’s a lightness to her tone; delight at hearing about her sister. "I didn't think she could get here. How is she? Just checking in?"

He smiles at her tone. There's trust there. He visibly relaxes. "Yes. She brought a gift."

"A gift?" Hesper chuckles. "For you or Sol?"

"For you." He whispers, bringing the bracelet into the light.

She pauses, not expecting that. 

"... For me?" She reaches out, fingers just grazing the bracelet before she draws them back with a gasp. "What- what kind of magic is that? It's so warm."

"A protection." He urges her to take it. "From the light, Jewel."

He gulps, beginning to second-guess himself. The feelings he's never experienced until he met this woman scare him. "It cures your curse."

She looks at him. In disbelief. In shock. But then the stars in her eyes start to shimmer with hope.

Carefully, she takes the bracelet and puts it on. As it clicks around her wrist, it shimmers again, and she can feel the warmth spread through her whole body.

"... I can't believe it." She says softly. "After all this time... I can really..." She looks up from the bracelet, pulling down her mask just as the tears fall. "Thank you."

He panics and reaches to wipe her tears as gently as he can. "Why? Why thank me so? I have yet to help the little one."

Not to mention he can't really take credit for this. If anything, it means they would have gotten help sooner but no one cared enough to offer it. Even those that could.

But she seems overjoyed, so he won't ruin it for her.

"Yes, but you brought my hope back. I was certain-" She decides not to finish that, reaching forward and hugging him tight without a care in the world. "Thank you, Thárros. For caring."

Thárros shivers when she says his name. It's a power she has over him. It's exciting yet humbling. 

He gulps, wrapping his arms around her as well. "I will help the child. Thank me not, yet. My work isn't finished."

But he tucks his nose into her hair. "However, I'm glad that you are taken care of."

"One thing down." Hesper exhales in agreement, relaxing against him. He's so warm... She feels safe like this.

Wild coughs, and it gets Hesper's attention. "Uh... good morning? Have a nice nap?"

Hesper goes pink and attempts to slowly pull out of the hug, despite a part of her screaming to just shadow away. "... Good afternoon, Wild."

Thárros doesn't let her go. If anything, he holds on tighter. He calls the young hero his affection-given name. "Good afternoon, Cub."

He turns his head to look at the young man. "Has the meal been prepared?"

"Working on it." The young man replies.

... Hesper is fine. This is comfortable. She's not-

Oh, who is she kidding, her growing appreciation and attraction are so obvious right now! Still, she doesn't move. In fact, she indulges herself and tucks her head in the crook of his neck. If he insists on keeping her here, she'll just get more comfortable.

Thárros nods towards Wild, turning his attention back to the woman in his arms. He holds her close, tucking her against him. He dare not ask for more from her.

He tenderly trails his fingers through her hair. But words fail him.

She tilts her head into his touch, trying to encourage him to continue.

This is nice. She likes this, earlier embarrassment aside. Sol sits up now that the rain clouds have passed, yawning with eyes half open. 'No... wanna go back to sleep...'

Hesper chuckles. "Afternoon, Sol. Did you enjoy your nap as well?"

'Hello. Sleep was ok...' He turns, blinking blearily. '... Your hood is off... Hair pretty. You like it short?'

"Easy to manage, I suppose."

Sol nods slowly, the gears in his brain turning slowly. '... Wait... hood off... no sunburn?'

Hesper shows him her bracelet. "Magic sunblock."

'Magic... sunblock? So you can...' It hits and he perks up. 'You can play tag?'

"Yes." Hesper snorts as Sol stumbles out of bed, running to tackle Wind and get a game started.

The deity chuckles, brushing Hesper's hair away from her face. "How do you feel, Jewel?"

"... Warm." She smiles. "The kind of warmth night can't replicate... it's nice."

"Ack- Sol, what- ... WHAT?!" Wind's shout catches the attention of several other Links, most of them confused and unimpressed. "Guys, Hesper can be in the sun!"

Wild looks up from his pot, blinking, then it clicks that Hesper and Thárros are in the sun and he mouths 'oh'.

The fierce deity smiles, grinning even. But instead of letting the others see it, he hides his face in the crook of her neck. "I'm glad."

He pulls away, teasing a kiss to her cheek. "You shouldn't need to hide from now on."

She giggles, even as her cheeks turn pink. "Aw, but sneaking around is fun!"

The rest of the camp is thrown for a loop; especially Time.

"It's only fun when it's voluntary." He whispers. "I feel as if I'm finally seeing you for the first time."

He pulls back, looking her over now that she can have her face out without any concern. He hums quietly, ignoring the other boys. "Typically the sun would overpower the light of the stars… but dare I say you appear even more bedazzled than usual, Darling."

She flusters more, attempting to pull her mask up. "How? I haven't done anything-"

He stops her, poking her nose with his. "Don't. I'm not done admiring you yet, Jewel."

"F... fine." She accepts her fate, embarrassing as it is. "If you insist..."

Warrior coughs from the sidelines. "I didn't think he had moves."

Time pales. "Honestly.... neither did I."

'Her stars are pretty, so it makes sense he wants to watch them.' Sol grins.

"Stars?" Wind blinks.

'Yeah, Hesper has stars in her eyes!'

"Oh, like how you have the sun-shaped birthmark."

'I think so? Yeah!'

Thárros takes the moment to study her. He finds it fascinating. Her eyes are full and deep and beautiful. His are flat, plain, off-putting.

He kisses her again, on her forehead, unable to hold himself back. Then he moves to her other cheek and her temple. Then onto the other side.

He kisses the tip of her nose and seemingly moves to her lips but pauses. 

"Dearest... I would travel through hells for you..." He whispers. "I merely wish for you to be honored as you deserve. Whether it be with me... or another..."

But he's not too fond of the latter idea.

"... You act as if I'd choose someone else." The idea that he even considers that... annoys her. "I've let you this close, haven't I? Isn't it obvious by now, Thárros?"

His grip on her tightens as he goes completely rigid. His jaw clenches and he gulps. "...I'm afraid I am unworthy. For you... your name... your legacy...your family..."

He closes his eyes, brushing his nose against hers, taking her presence in. "I... am a selfish man. But I cannot fault you, should you choose another."

Hesper huffs, warm breath fanning over his face. "Seriously?"

She kisses him, right there, in front of the whole camp.

A choked noise comes out of him, clearly taken off guard.

His hands fly upwards, caging her in and holding her closer. One hand on her cheek, the other entangled in her hair.

He gives in to his desires at last.

Hesper makes a point to kiss him for a long moment, both to prove something and because it felt good to kiss him. When she finally draws back, however, it's softly, and she's cradling his face like he's as precious as he likes to say she is. "... I... choose you. Understand? No one else, Thárros. I love you." 

He keeps her close though- not allowing her to be too far away from possibly being kissed again. Thárros gulps and nods. "I have already chosen you… My Love."

The frustration mixed with her look of adoration slips away, and she huffs in amusement. "Good. Glad we're on the same page."

"... Lunch is ready." Wild hesitantly breaks the moment, the first to find his voice in the shocked silence of... everyone.

The one… previously known as The Fierce Deity was overjoyed for the longest time. He was no longer bothered by their lack of progress. To see the Jewel of the Sixteen Realms laugh and play in the sun as she’s always yearned warmed his heart. It seemed as if there was a hole that was filled from that point on, both in Hesper and in Sol.

And to finally kiss her.

It only solidified his determination to help where he was needed. Surely, there would still be battles to fight and a war to win, but this purpose had a higher meaning now.

If he had to lay his existence on the line for the sake of one little boy, he would do so without a second thought. While he would miss his Jewel, and he knew now, that it would pain her for him to leave. If it was called for, he would give. And give and give. She deserved to live happily. She was robbed of the light and of the pleasures of day. And as a consequence, she was robbed of her brother and his childhood. 

And her brother deserved to have his big sister by his side to protect him- not to watch him from a distance where she cannot go. Sol should know the wonders of the night and beauty of the stars. It is the realm of his mother and his sister. The darkened skies are a peace to mankind. He should know those as well.

A family must be whole.

He says none of this to Hesper, for fear she should convince him otherwise. But he has never broken a vow before, nor does he plan to begin to do so.

It is once again, when he is alone on patrol that another Great One from the other realm visits him. This time, however, the world shifts around him and Thárros is enveloped in darkness. He sees no body either in front of him or around him.

He need not introduce himself. The darkness speaks to cut to the chase. "Hemera says you wish to break a curse. That requires a test, does it not? Sure you can wield the sword and ‘protect’... but I know your kind. Savage. Rough. Beastly. Prove yourself capable of restraint and maybe I'll help the child." 

“Erebus.” The Fierce Deity bows in the darkness. A Great One of the highest regard should be treated as such, no matter how savage he considers them to be. The Great One gives him no such respect in return.

"Do not move from where you stand, boy. What you are going to see has already transpired. Try to help her-" The omnipresent form before Thárros grins wickedly, a smile that promises pain.  "And I will send you back to where you came from in failure."

Thárros growls, hate and wrath already burning in his stomach.

The Great One laughs. "This would be interesting to watch. Begin."

The darkness shifts, forming a room. A man stands before him, holding a wailing baby. It's- her arm has been touched by sunlight, smoke curling into the air from the contact. Hesper turns into the man's shadow, melting away and into a darkened corner of the house, still crying. The man gasps.

"What the- what kind of demon are you?!" The man grabs a knife, face twisted in disgust as he starts towards her. "Nevermind that! Go back to wherever you came from, you little devil!"

The man swings towards Hesper and-

The scene changes.

The once Fierce Deity tenses considerably, but makes no move.

She's older now. A man sits with her, a weaker demigod, holding the arm burnt in her childhood and examining the scars it left behind.

"It never healed?"

"Not really." She says softly, pulling her arm back. "That's why I wear the cloak... to protect me from the sun. Until I find something else, at least."

The man nods, something glinting in his eyes. Something dark. "So... it really can kill you."

She doesn't see it, standing from the table. "Yes. That's why I visit at night... I really should go, Lityerses. Hemera is coming soon."

Something crashes to the floor. A mirror, sending shards everywhere.

"Lit?! Are you alri-"

"Hemera." 'Lit' grasps the edge of a curtain. "Is already here."

He rips the curtain down, sunlight flooding the room and reflecting off of all the shards. Hesper screams in pain, retreating to a corner and hiding behind her cloak. "Lit, what are you doing?!"

"I'm sick of you leaving." He pulls down another curtain and another, ignoring her cries for him to stop. "I'm starting to wonder if you even love me."

"I do! Lit, please-!"

"That's not good enough." He pulls down the last curtain, looking at the cloak wrapped so tight he can only see the shape of her. "I don't want you to leave ever again. You're mine, Hesper. Only mine."

Then he took the curtains and left.

Leaving her to sob.

Thárros can feel the need to conjure his sword bubble under the surface of his skin. He studies the face of the man intently, but makes no move from his spot.

The memories with Lit continue. There’s days worth. Months worth. Years worth. Every time he appears through the door, Thárros has to remind himself there's an end to this. Somewhere, eventually, this ends. He stops screaming at her. He stops abusing her. He stops demanding things he has no right to demand. She stops crying.

It takes another year’s worth of memories before he hears a second man. Not Lit. The small form in the corner shifts.

"... Don't." She hisses to the second man. "Don't eat, don't drink. It's a trick."

She flinches as Lit kicks the door, but she keeps going. "He intends to slow you so you can't beat him."

"Beat him in what?" The man replies.

"A harvesting contest!"

"SHUT UP!" A harsher kick, and she goes quiet again. But the man stands.

"Who is she?"

"A foolish woman who can't keep her mouth shut!" Lit throws open the door, intent on getting her, but the second man pulls him back outside.

"You can deal with her after you beat me."

Lit laughs. "Alright, fine! I've never been beat before, I won't start now!"

Thárros felt great satisfaction when Hercules took his head off.

He watched on as the scenes went by faster; near hits, near kills, threats, all while she gained more scars and better equipment to deal with the sun.

Then she was at a camp. A camp full of demigods. She watched them at night, through the shadows of the woods. She protected them, kept the monsters in line.

And she was utterly alone.

They were frightened of her, of her power. They didn't even know her name. They gave her no thanks. No offering.

Did they even know what she did for them?

Even the children of her brother, Hypnos, avoided her.

... And she protected them anyway.

Tharros was glad that he had picked up from the mortals on how to control their emotions. Something he didn't think he had the discipline to learn.

He had gleaned bits and pieces of her past from their conversations, and from what the others would say and from what Sol would say but he never imagined it so vividly.

It was maddening. Blood boiling.

The only thing he could focus on was how he would have changed it all. How he would have made them worship her, how he would have protected her- treated her like the goddess she is. She would have never wanted for anything or would have worked a day in her life.

FD bit his tongue on multiple occasions. The slight metallic tang in his mouth wasn't enough to deter him from calming down. But it did keep him in place. It kept him from moving. It kept him from going to and destroying them all.

He had clenched his fists so hard that he was sure that his nails had pierced his skin.

Hesper would no doubt question him about it later.

But this is for her brother. Her kin. The one she loved so dearly.

The only other to love her as completely as he did.

It was due.

He would not compromise himself or the child.

He would. Not. Move.

"... Hmph." The Great One huffed, breath ruffling his hair. "I commend you, boy. All that pain to your beloved, and still you refuse to move."

Erebus pauses, watching as a black blood throws Hesper to the ground, driving its weapon through her shoulder. The day Thárros first saw her.

Erebus laughs.

"I fail to see what you do in that pitiful wretch, but I will admit, your loyalty is quite amusing."

Instead of feeling more rage at the scene before him, he calms. He is reminded of what he saw in her, why he fell so hard for her.

He’s reminded why he's here.

He ignores the Great One's sting to her. He takes a breath. "It is I who sees it. You need not concern yourself with it. All I endure is so that you keep your end of the bargain."

"... Enough." Erebus scoffs, and it all ends. "You know the rest of it, so I won't bother making you relive it. Your point is made, and your trial passed. As agreed, I will undo what has been done to the boy."

The Fierce Deity only tenses up more, afraid of ruining this. He nods and bows once more (despite his distaste for the Great One in front of him) for good measure. "My thanks."

"Yes yes, be on your way." Erebus grunts, waving him off into the familiar shadows of Hylian forest. It appears that hours have passed since he has left the group. Night has recently fallen. The last simmers of the sunlight are barely holding onto the horizon. As Thárros walks, the Great One speaks one last time. "... I'm impressed, boy. No god here would do as you have this day. Tell me, who is it that has passed my trial?"

... He's asking for his name?

"I am the Protector of Termina." He settles for a neutral title. "But I am called... Thárros by the daughter night."

"Thárros..." A laugh bubbles out of the primordial being. "Yes, courage indeed... So you will be known by me, Thárros the Protector."

Something alights within him with that. A new purpose. A god with a name.

A god worth honoring.

He bows once more in respect. 

Then he turns to leave.

Erebus' presence leaves him and back towards camp Hesper releases a startled yelp.

"Ah! Oh my gods- Sol, you're awake! I- I'm sorry, I'm sorry, yes I know it's late-"

Thárros starts running to the camp.

He stops by the edge, watching Sol sign as quickly as he can, both in confusion and fascination. The young child keeps poking and checking his skin- as if he's expecting to start burning like his sister does.

Relief? Love? Acceptance? He doesn’t know what emotion explodes within him. Whatever it is causes tears to roll down his cheeks and he drops to his knees. 

He did it.

He actually did it.

Both siblings turn to him at the sound of his collapse and run to him.

"Thárros? What happened? Are you alright?" Hesper asks as Sol reaches up and wipes his tears away with warm, tiny hands.

Words fail him.

He leans down for Sol to reach better and kisses the boy on the forehead. "Enjoy your blessings, child."

He runs his hand over his hair before turning and picks Hesper up, spinning her around in circles. He peppers her face in all the kisses he can before he dips her, kissing her soundly.

When he pulls back, leaving her dizzy and breathless, he finally finds it in himself to speak coherently. "I told you I'd do it."

"... Oh my gods." Her eyes widen, sparkling as she looks from Sol to him again. "You- oh my gods!"

She laughs and pulls him in for another kiss. Sol has no idea what's happening but he runs around grinning.

He kisses her back happily.

No one else knows what's happening. They're still wondering why Sol hasn't fallen asleep yet, or rather, why he woke up.

Thárros pulls away first, hooking Hesper's legs around his waist. "Be my woman… Please..."

Hesper laughs again as she holds his shoulders to steady herself. "I thought I already was."

"Officially..." He whispers. "I believe Sol mentioned an apple is typically involved."

Hesper went pink, words lost as her lips parted. Slowly though, she smiles, stars warm with light. "... Yes. I'd love to, Thárros."

He smiles back and rests his forehead against hers. "Then it's decided then."

He steals a kiss, running his hands through her hair. "You will want for nothing, I swear by it."

Hesper giggles, brushing white locks from his face. "Of course not. I already have all I could need."

"I would believe a roof is in order, first." Thárros teases, feeling overjoyed and boyish and whole.

"Stay with me." He whispers. "You and the boy."

They could all be together. He would protect them all. His woman, the child-....

Could they start a family? He doesn't want to get his hopes up. But the thought of little ones running around, excites him now that there's little for him to fear.

'Yeah!' Sol somehow wiggles his way between them both. 'I wanna stay with Thárros!'

"Well, if we're all in agreement." Hesper laughs, ruffling Sol's hair along with Thárros'.

Sol chuckles, letting her do as she pleases.

This is it. He's going to do everything in his power. If anything would touch a single hair on their heads... He would have to be personally brought into hell itself for him to cease the rains of fire.

The name placed upon him is Thárros. His old title means nothing now. He is no longer the honorless Fierce Deity but rather Thárros the Protector. He is alight with a new purpose and will remain with his name until his purpose is completed.

He will always have his purpose, for now and forever.

"No one is going anywhere then. You're safe."

[pearbunny]

the bucket list ✘ [one]

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summary: Fly to Korea. Check. Buy a bouquet of flowers for a stranger. Check. Have said stranger come along with you to accomplish your bucket list? Well that wasn’t on the list, but falling in love was. 

pairing: han jisung x afab!reader

genre: 18+ [MDNI] strangers to lovers, non idol au, crack, mostly fluff, later chapters to include: angst, comfort, smut.

general warnings:  tourist!mc, adult themes including but not limited to: suggestive content, nudity, cursing, alcohol consumption, mentions of death in later chapters, overarching theme of mental health, eventual smut.

word count: ~3.6k 

chapter content: mentions of food, excessive lip biting as a nervous habit, cafe employee!seungmin, stranger danger tbh don’t be like o/c, Lee Know mentioned, but not present. 

author’s note: I've never written for stray kids and most of what i write is typically on the sadder side so fluff isn't my strongest point but i've had this in my head for awhile. feedback, reblogs, likes, v much appreciated. :) updates will be sporadic, but i'm aiming for once every two weeks.

You shield your eyes from the beating sun above, pupils unadjusted from being on a plane for the past 12 plus hours with the window shut. You let go of the suitcase you had been dragging along behind you to fish your phone out of your back pocket. Humming to yourself, you check the map, trying to find your way to Seoul. “Ah!” You say into the air, which grants you a couple of curious and annoyed stares. You duck your head in an attempt to be unseen, embarrassed by the attention. You make your way to the train station and purchase a ticket. It doesn’t take long for the train to arrive, and soon you’re sitting with your backpack in your lap and your suitcase between your legs.

According to the tourist guide you had pulled up on your phone, the train ride would take around 40 minutes. In the meantime, you rummage through your backpack to look for an old loosely bound book. You find it after digging past your makeup bag and some snacks you had saved from the flight. With a hum, you search through the pages, and after some flipping, you land on the correct one. Your index finger traces down a list, and randomly you stop it. “Buy a bouquet for a stranger.” 

You chew on your lip, a habit you picked up whenever you found yourself feeling uneasy. You may not bethe most outgoing person, but you aren't completely against socializing. 

It’s just … going up to a stranger in a town– let alone country– you’ve never been in was 1000% terrifying. 

Before you know it, the intercom announces your stop and you're scrambling to gather your belongings. You make your way out of the station and suddenly, you hold your breath in awe at the scene in front of you. There were so many people, walking in every direction. You hear little tidbits of their conversations: where they were planning to go for lunch, the new restaurant that opened up in Itaewon, what someone’s boyfriend had given them for their 100 days. The sounds of a city fill your ears. 

If you're being honest, it was a little overwhelming. For a moment, you have doubts of why you had gotten on that plane. You shut your eyes and count down from 7. There, your breathing is even, your head’s a little clearer, and you realize that you had a goal to accomplish. You couldn't back out now, you refuse to be stuck in your old ways.

‘Flowers first,’ you think to yourself. 

After a couple of blocks of lugging your suitcase behind you, you find a quaint little flower stand. A young woman and what seem to be her grandfather were the owners of the stall. You stand there, staring at all the options. The young woman approaches you, her hands placed inside the pockets of her green apron, “Hi, do you need help picking something out?” 

“Hi, yes!” you quickly blurt out. “I just wanted a bouquet that would make someone’s day.” You give the woman a meek smile. You recognize the characters on her apron to read Minji.

“Is this for anyone special? Your mom, maybe?” She starts to pull at a couple of arrangements, one bouquet made of mostly carnations. 

You shake your head, “No…” You hesitate as you wondered to yourself, ‘Do I tell her it’s for someone I don’t even know?’ You chuckle at the thought absentmindedly.

Minji takes that to mean something else, “A boy perhaps then?” There's something a little suggestive in her tone, complemented by the raise of her brow in your direction. 

“Oh, no no!” You shake your head for emphasis, furiously denying it. “Absolutely nothing like that.” You find yourself laughing at the predicament. “I’m actually going to give the flowers to a stranger.”

“Oh–” Minji looks pleasantly surprised, “That’s very kind of you. I have just the thing then.” 

You stay in place while Minji goes to the other side of the flower stall to wrap up the bouquet she hand picked. Soon, she comes back and you make an expression of gratitude. “Minji, you really didn’t have to do that! I could have just gotten one of the premade ones.” You pout, looking through the flowers as you take the bouquet from her. It was very simple, three medium sunflowers, some Queen Anne’s lace, and a few branches of baby blue eucalyptus.

“No, don’t worry about it. What was your name again?”

“Y/N”, You give her the appropriate amount of money. 

“Well, Y/N, I hope you brighten someone’s day!” Minji smiles at you and bids you farewell as you turn and leave. 

“Now who do I give this to?” You hold the bouquet in one hand while you pull your luggage, the sound of its wheels on the concrete trailing behind you. 

You stop at an intersection, scanning the crowd for someone that seems approachable. Will it be the middle aged woman holding the hand of a small boy while they cross the street? Maybe it would be the man in a suit that was on the phone, oh he was looking in your direction. He glared at you. 

Okay, so not that guy. 

You were about to give up until you spot a young man, about your age give or take a few, walking in your direction. He was still crossing the street, but he had a certain pep to his step, like he was listening to a really good song in his headphones– which given the fact that he did have headphones on, he probably was. He seems approachable, even down to his outfit: white tee loosely tucked into black jeans a black belt to match his shoes, and gold metal thinly rimmed glasses. 

“Um, excuse me!” You step towards him, holding the bouquet of flowers to your chest at first. 

“Yes?” The man stops in front of you and stretches one side of his headphones away from his ear to hear you better. 

“These are for you.” You extend the sunflowers towards him. 

He looks around, a bit confused, then takes his headphones off fully, letting them hang around his neck. He takes a step towards the side, which you follow, so you’re out of the way of the traffic of people. “F-For me?!” He seems surprised. You can't blame him, you’re a total stranger. He gestures to himself, placing his palm on his chest. “I think you have the wrong guy!” 

You shake your head, the corners of your lips turn up in a slight smile, mostly out of embarrassment. “No, definitely for you”. 

The stranger takes the bouquet in his hand, examining it. “Who put you up to this? Was it Lee Know Hyung?” He looked back at you, raising a brow. 

 “I don’t even know who that is, I promise they’re for you!” 

You notice his shoulders relaxing and he pinches at one of the blue eucalyptus leaves, feeling its texture. “But… why?” 

You also relax and release the breath inside your lungs you didn’t know you were holding. He seems to at least be open to accepting the gift now. “It’s just something I wanted to cross off my bucket list: give a bouquet of flowers to a stranger.” You smile up at him and you hope that the man in front of you can sense how sincere you are and didn’t think you were an absolute lunatic. 

“Well, thanks.” He slowly starts to smile and suddenly his eyes notice your bag and your suitcase. “Oh, are you visiting?” 

You nod your head yes, “I am! I’m actually here because visiting Korea is also on my bucket list!” 

His eyes grow wide, surprised by your seemingly adventurous personality. “You must have come a long way then, your accent is definitely not from around here.” He motions over to a bench a short walk away and the both of you make your way there. 

“I will take that as a compliment.” Momentarily, you check your phone for the time. He must have noticed you doing so, because he motions to get up. 

“Oh no, did I keep you?” 

“Not at all, I’m just realizing what time it is back home.”  

“Oh, you must be jet lagged, do you need help getting to your hotel?” 

“I don’t have to check in until later,” you lie. You don't even have a hotel yet.

Oops.

"Well, in that case...." He seems nervous as he stands up, very subtly back and forth on the tips of his toes to the back of his heels. If that isn't enough, he rubs the back of his neck before he clears his throat and looks down at your sitting form. You look up at him as if you hadn’t been watching him the entire time. “Is grabbing coffee with a stranger on your bucket list too, then?” 

You can't help but smile, a smile that pulled at your lips wide enough that it made the corner of your eyes crinkle. “It’s not, but I’m sure I could add it in.” 

“Great, then I’ll make sure it’s an extra good café with instagrammable latte art!”  He extends out his hand to help you up. 

Once you stand up, you reach for your suitcase, but he beats you to it. Instead, he places the bouquet of flowers into your hands.  “You carry that, and I’ll take these.” He slings your backpack over his shoulder. 

“No, please let me. It’s really no problem for me!” You hold the bouquet of flowers to him, as if it's a trade off. 

“It might be no problem for you, but what about me? You’re gonna slow us down carrying these things and the café spot gets busy in the afternoon!” He starts to walk away, looking back at you with a smirk after a couple of large strides. 

Well, at least the stranger you picked had a sense of humor and wasn’t some asshole who would have rejected the flowers. Snapping out of your thoughts, you realize he really isn't going to wait for you and hurry after him. 

The stranger— you still don't know his name, by the way; you've had no opportunity to ask—wasn’t kidding when he said that the café got busy. You were both lucky to grab a table on the outside of the establishment all thanks to your hovering and his remarkably subtle ability to place your suitcase in the way of other hopeful individuals looking for a seat.  

Your eyes wander around the place, looking for a waiter or waitress to come and take your order. You desperately don't want to be the one to start conversation. You feel a little awkward sitting down with a guy you just met.

“I’m Han Jisung, by the way.” His voice cuts through the clinking of mugs, the soft hum of the people waiting for a table, and the occasional sound of the cars driving past. 

You bring your eyes back to him, a little caught off guard. He smiles in a way that shows the gums and it's kind of cute, while his eyes crinkle into half crescents. You can't help but smile right back at him. “I’m Y/N.”

Jisung leans forward, into the table with his arms crossed. “So, what brings you to Korea, Y/N?” 

You reach for the old beaten notebook in your bag and place it on the table. “I have this bucket list,” you open the pages and start flipping through it. There were a bunch of pages with cursive scrawls in paragraphs, some doodles, and eventually you stop on the page with the bucket list on it. “Just a bunch of things I wanna do before I die…” You give him a lopsided smile. 

Jisung’s eyes look through the list, then he point at one half way down the page. “Well, you can now cross going to Korea off. “ His index finger drags across the page at another item, “And the bouquet one.” 

“You’re right, thanks.” You take a pen from the front pouch of your backpack and cross those off. 

“How long is your visit?” 

You peer up at him, chewing on your bottom lip. He has an innocently curious expression on his face and you can't help but thank whoever's in charge of fate. Jisung is nice and welcoming, which is just what you need in a country you had never been to before. “About two weeks.” 

“Do you plan on doing more of those here?” 

You nod with a smile. “I do! As many as I can anyway.”  Talking to him isn't as awkward as you think it would be. He's definitely to thank for carrying the conversation so naturally.

“Hi can I take yo—“ a young man, probably around Jisung’s age comes to your table with a small notepad in hand. He has medium brown hair pushed back, a wide smile, and kind eyes. He's wearing a pair of khaki slacks and a nicely pressed dress shirt underneath his navy blue apron. “Oh, Hannie! Hey!” 

Jisung stands and pulls the newcomer into a short hug. “Seungmin!” Jisung motions to you at the table. “This is Y/N. A new friend of mine.” 

You smile at Seungmin and stand, bowing your head slightly. “Hi, nice to meet you.” 

Seungmin motions for you both to sit back down after introductions. “Ah, order whatever you guys want, it’s on the house! I hope you guys didn’t wait too long for a table.” 

Jisung shook his head, sitting back down only after you did. “It didn’t take too long, but this place is crowded! You guys must be doing really well lately.” 

Seungmin nodded with a sort of  crooked grin, “Yeah, well ever since those KPOP idols were seen here, this place has been swamped.” He raised his brows up and down mischievously, looking at the both of you together. “We’re looking for help!” 

Jisung scoffed and playfully rolled his eyes. “No thanks. Y/N is just visiting.” He leaned closer to you, as if the next part was only meant to be heard by you, though he was definitely talking loud enough for Seungmin to hear. “Besides, the last time I helped out he yelled at me for eating a pastry.” 

Seungmin playfully hit Jisung’s arm with his notepad. “It wasn’t a pastry, it was your seventh one of the day.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, what will you be ordering?”

You looked around, unsure of what was good there. You wanted to get an idea from what others had ordered around you. Everyone seemed to have an iced drink… and they were all really dark coffees “A vanilla iced latte?” Your sweet tooth would never let you have coffee without some kind of creamer in it. 

Seungmin nodded and scribbled it down. Then, without looking at Jisung, he said, “Americano, iced. And a slice of cheesecake.” 

Jisung feigned a look of offense. “Am I that predictable?” 

Seungmin laughed. “Honestly, no. But your orders are.” Seungmin placed his notepad in his apron pocket and went back into the cafe to fetch your orders. 

“Ah, that was Seungmin. He and I go way back. Now he helps run this place!” 

“That must be difficult, but this place looks great.” 

“Yea, he’s always been a caffeine addict. One day, he decided that if he was going to be making coffee everyday, he might as well make money off of it.” Jisung chuckled to himself, then glanced your way from across the table. “Are you staying close by? I could walk you to your hotel after If you’d like” 

You laughed nervously, avoiding eye contact, “Well.. actually…” your voice trailed off, catching a glimpse at his expression before spitting it out, “I don’t have one… yet.” 

“You don’t have one?!” He had raised his voice slightly, startling a couple of people at nearby tables. 

“Yet! I said yet!” You nervously played with the pen in your hands. 

“You came to Korea without a place to stay!?” 

“I literally bought my tickets two hours before the flight took off!” 

Seungmin came back with your orders, just in time to catch the last bit of your conversation. His eyes widened in shock. 

“TWO HOURS?” Both Jisung and Seungmin echoed you simultaneously. 

You grabbed your iced vanilla latte and started chewing on the straw. “I mean… it probably sounds a lot worse than it is...” 

Seungmin bent down at his knees to rest his arms on the table, head tilted. In that position, he really reminded you of a puppy. “Are you rich?” 

“Umm, definitely not." You placed your free drink on the table and chuckled at the thought.

Jisung raised a brow in your direction, “So you’re broke.”  

You grabbed your phone and checked your bank app. There was a silence that passed, the boys watching you carefully. You exhaled slowly and put your phone on the table, screen down. “Not like broke broke.”

Seungmin stood back up and forcefully put his hands on Jisung’s shoulders from behind him, giving them a squeeze for emphasis, “Well it’s a good thing that Hannie has a spare room, yea?” 

The two of you exchanged looks until he finally said something, “I mean… Yeah… I guess I do.” 

Jisung shot Seungmin a glare as he went back into the cafe then looked back you. You were still staring at him blankly, not saying a word. You were going through the logistics of it all in your head. It would be a free place to stay, but he was a complete stranger. This whole thing was a spontaneous trip, it was supposed to be a way for to come out of your comfortable way of living. You had been complacent, and quite honestly, staying in one place wasn’t going to help your mental health. But neither was staying with a stranger. 

“It’s not like I’m an ax murderer or anything.” 

Your silence was met with Jisung shrugging and grabbing his pastry off the plate in front of him. He broke it up into smaller pieces before stuffing it into his cheeks. He looked a little silly, reminding you of a squirrel with puffed up cheeks. “Or you can find a hotel room with all the money you still have saved up.” 

You were quickly reminded of the lack of money in your bank account. “Okay yea,” you mumbled under your breath, “lead the way.” 

Jisung gave you a short tour of his place. It was on the seventh floor, two bedrooms, one bathroom. A small kitchen with an equally as small island, enough for two people to eat at. He had a black couch facing a TV that was hooked up to a play station, probably the newest one. 

You came out of the bathroom after showering in an over sized gray shirt and navy blue shorts underneath. You were towel drying your hair when you noticed he was at the sink. You sat at the island, his back to you.  “Thanks for letting me stay with you.” 

He seemed busy with something, but he looked over his shoulder at you. “Yea, no problem. Don’t worry about it.” 

Seeing as he was a bit busy, you went into the spare room you were staying in and grabbed your notebook. You decided to bring it back to the island; if you were going to stay with Jisung for at least a couple of days, you were going to get to know him. He definitely seemed and had proven himself nice enough.

“Is that the list again?” Jisung asked you when you sat back down, still focused on whatever it was he was doing. 

“Yeah, it is.” 

“Cool!” He threw something away in the trash under the sink. Whatever it was he was working on, he placed it in the counter next to the sink. 

“What kind of stuff do you think you could cross off?” He turned around and leaned on the island across from you. His head tilted, curious as he looked at you with warm round brown eyes. 

You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. “Let’s see.” You opened up to the page, looking over the list and reading off a few at random.

“Paint a portrait. Sing at a karaoke bar. Fall asleep under the stars. Watch the sun rise—“

“Those are easy! You traveled all the way to korea for that? Where are the fun spontaneous ones?” 

You sighed and ran your hands down your face. “I have those too, but they’re embarrassing!” 

“Try me.” 

You held your head in your hands, looking down at the book to avoid looking at him. “Crash a wedding.” 

“Ooo that sounds fun. What else you got?” 

“I booked a flight to Korea in two hours isn't that spontaneous enough?!” 

He shook his head, still smiling. 

You looked back down. “Goskinnydipping...” You mumbled very quietly and quickly, then cleared your throat trying to glaze over that bit, hoping he didn’t hear. When he didn't react, you continued. “Get a tattoo.” Slowly, you looked at him through your damp hair that fell over your eyes. 

“Okay. Let’s do it.” He smiled at you, mischievous one. 

“Get a tattoo?” You panicked and you could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks. Had he heard you? 

“Let’s accomplish as many things on your list as we can while you’re here.” 

You looked at him with a brow raised. You didn’t even know what to say. “Like… together?” 

Jisung nodded simply. “Yes. Together. Why not?” 

“More like why? Why would you do that with someone you just met?” 

He mimicked your raised brow, but the smirk remained. “You bought me flowers, remember? We’re basically dating now.” 

Huh? He was joking, right? 

“Just kidding. But come on, think about it! It’ll be fun! Plus… do you know how to get around Seoul?” 

Again, he had a point. 

You bit your lower lip and scanned the room trying to avoid eye contact. It was then you noticed that the thing he was working on was the bouquet of flowers that you bought, stems cut and placed in a tall glass. 

You smiled and finally nodded, “Okay.” 

“Okay?” He looked at you with wide eyes, smirk growing into a smile, excited that you had agreed. 

“Yea. Let’s do this.” 

author's notes: if for whatever you want to be added to a taglist, let me know :)

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@burningchaosdeer

[ereardon]

That Summer || Epilogue [Bradley Bradshaw x Reader]

A Bradley Bradshaw AU

Synopsis: One night during the summer you turned eighteen, you woke up to a surprise. Your father, a retired Navy Admiral, had posted bail for the son of a former colleague who was now orphaned and had gotten himself mixed up with the law. Instead of letting him get lost in the judicial system, your father signed himself up as Bradley Bradshaw’s guardian to prevent him from going to juvie. You were explicitly told to stay away from the boy in the attic room. But as the summer went on, you and Bradley struck up an unlikely friendship that turned into a forbidden relationship. Bradley tipped your world upside down, challenging everything you had once thought you knew. How could the two of you think it would end any differently than it did when your father called the cops the night he found the two of you in bed together?

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader 

Warnings: Cursing, angst, illusion to smut, happy endings, time jumps, premature baby, hospital scene

Chapter summary: Twelve years after the night they're torn apart, Bradley and Birdy reunite in San Diego

Wordcount: 4.5K

Series masterlist here; Part Ten here

“Do you know him?” 

You looked at Amanda and then back to where you had been staring. 

You’d recognize him anywhere. Even though it had been twelve years since you had last seen him. Even though you hadn’t heard your voice falling from his perfect lips since that late August night, all those years ago, when your world was turned on its axis. 

Bradley Bradshaw was a part of you. Your thumb automatically touched the gold ring around your fourth finger. 

You watched as Bradley slid the sunglasses off of the bridge of his nose, squinting into the distance, trying to place you. 

And for a fleeting moment it was just the two of you, standing in a hospital parking lot. And you were eighteen again, with everything spread out in front of you, a future that you were desperate not to do alone. 

You dropped your gaze and shook your head. “No,” you whispered. “Not anymore.” 

*the aftermath*

You went off to Stanford three weeks later. 

It was the longest three weeks of your life. 

By the time you got to the police station a few hours later, Bradley was gone. No one would tell you where he was or what had really happened. 

You spent the first week in a daze, barely speaking. And then, one night, drunk off of a bottle of stolen Sancerre you had pilfered from your mother’s stash, you barged into your father’s study. 

“Tell me what you did,” you demanded, swaying from side to side, a dull ringing in one ear. 

He looked up, dejected. “Not now, Y/N.” 

“Yes, now,” you countered. “Tell me or I never speak to either of you ever again.” 

He sighed, folding his hands on his desk. “Fine. You want to know the truth?” 

“Yes.”

The story your father wove sounded improbable. Unbelievable for the Bradley you had known. 

He said that Bradley had stolen. From him and from others at the debutante ball. A pilfered wallet here and there. Pierce’s wallet. That he had found Bradley in his study a few nights before the incident, combing through his files. That when he confronted him, Bradley denied it. 

Your father shook his head. “You’re better off, Y/N. We tried, your mother and I. I owed it to his parents to try. But he was an unruly kid, just like I expected. Look what he did. He corrupted you.” 

You lifted your gaze. “He didn’t corrupt me, daddy. I love him.” 

His face hardened. “You’re too young to know love, Y/N.”

“Were you too young when you fell in love with Carole?” 

He was silent. The air in the room stilled. 

Finally, your father looked up. 

“You can hate me,” he said, “for the rest of your life, if you want. But it’s never going to change the fact that I did what I did because you’re my daughter and it is my duty to protect you. Your mother and I, we just want the best for you.” 

“Did you ever stop and think that maybe Bradley was the best thing that ever happened to me?” you asked, standing up and crossing the room to the doors, flinging them open. “And that maybe instead of saving me, you broke my life apart?” 

You stormed out of the study and up the stairs, to the third floor. Louise had cleaned out Bradley’s room. All that remained was the bed, stripped of sheets and pillows and comforters, just a mattress on a rickety metal frame. You laid down on the bare mattress and cried. There was nothing you could do to bring him back. 

*Four years after*

“Are you sure you don’t want to come back? Texas A&M is only an hour away.” 

You frowned. “I got into Stanford’s medical school. Why would I decline that?” 

“Because Texas is your home.” 

You shook your head at your mother. “No, it’s not. Not anymore.” 

“Y/N.” She laid a hand on your arm and you brushed it off. The California sun was strong as it beat down on your shoulders. Graduation had taken nearly three hours and you had only just packed up the final box in your car. 

“Mother,” you said coolly, “it’s done. I’m not coming back. California is my home now.” 

“Is this still about that boy?” 

“Do not speak to me about Bradley.” Your voice was sharp. 

She sighed. “Y/N, it’s been years. You can forgive us now.” 

“I will never forgive you,” you whispered and the simmering violence beneath your words scared her. You could tell by the way she inched backward. 

“Leave her be, Evelyn.” Your father stepped forward, closing the trunk door. “She’s made up her mind.” 

“But–”

He cut her off. “We dug our grave, Evelyn. Time to lie in it.” 

You opened the car door. “I’ll see you in November for Thanksgiving.” 

“Can we at least help you move into your new apartment?” your mother asked. 

You shook your head. “The movers are there, and so is Ivy. Nothing more you can do.” You looked at the two of them. Bright under the blinding sun. In four years they had aged. So had you. 

Leaving Texas had been the best decision you ever made. Going back after Bradley never felt like an option. 

You sank into the driver’s seat and pulled out onto the road. In the rearview, your parents grew smaller and smaller, until they were only specks in the mirror. 

You blinked, and they were gone. 

*Six months after*

“Bradley Bradshaw,” you repeated into the phone. “He would have come in on August twenty fifth.” 

“Sorry, ma’am, that’s classified information.” 

“I just need to know where he was released,” you begged. “Any information you can give me would be so helpful.” 

The receptionist sighed. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I can’t.” 

You hung up, frustrated. Your phone was clamped so hard in your hands that you thought you might break it. Leaning back on your dorm-issued bed, you pulled up a new Safari window and pressed return, finding a phone number instantly. 

“Hello?” 

“Hi,” you said, voice shaky. “My name is Y/N Sullivan. Admiral Sullivan’s daughter. I’m looking for any last known address for Bradley Bradshaw. His father was a Top Gun instructor years ago, Goose?” 

“Ms. Sullivan,” the voice on the other end of the line said. “One moment.” You jiggled your knee. “The last known address we have for the Bradshaws is here in San Diego.” 

“Can I have it please?” 

You grabbed a pen and your biology lab notebook, scribbling it down on the corner. After hanging up the phone, you sat there, looking at the address before ripping the corner piece off and tacking the triangle of scrap paper to the corkboard above your desk. 

*Five years after* 

Bradley smoothed his hands over his hair. He locked the door of his rental car and started up the familiar driveway. 

Galveston has taken on an ethereal quality in his mind. He closed his eyes and saw you – swimming in the ocean late at night, laughing with your hair thrown back under the skylight, eating breakfast in the kitchen nook, driving with one hand on the steering wheel and the other fiddling with the radio. 

Being back felt like bursting that bubble. 

It felt duller. Even the house, which held so many memories, felt like it had faded with the years. 

He knocked on the door, heart beating erratically. 

It opened and Bradley gulped. Your father stood with one hand on the large wooden door frame. “Bradley.” 

“Admiral.” 

The two men looked at each other. Finally, your father stepped to the side. “Come in.” 

Bradley nodded, ducking his head. Inside, the house felt like a time capsule. Everywhere he looked, Bradley saw you. And yet, you were nowhere to be found. 

If he looked closely, he could see the chip in the wood trim of the doorway where his handcuffs had scraped the night he was dragged out of the house. 

The last time he saw you. 

The two sat down in the study, staring at each other wordlessly. 

Finally, Bradley opened his mouth. “I report to Pensacola next week for training.” 

Your father’s mouth drifted open. “So you finished at the Academy.” It was a statement, not a question. 

Bradley nodded. “Yes, sir.” 

“Will you become a WSO, like your father?” 

He shook his head. “Aviator, sir.” 

Your father took him in for a moment. Then, “I always knew you’d come back.” 

“Did you?” Bradley asked. “I didn’t.” 

“What we did, son, we did for her own good.” 

Even at the slightest mention of you, Bradley’s breath caught in his throat. He wanted to attack your father with questions. How were you? Where were you? Did you remember him? Were you seeing someone? But he settled with, “I understand.” 

“You do?” 

He nodded. “Now, yes. Back then I didn’t.” Bradley folded his hands in his lap. “I loved her, you know. It wasn’t some kind of game.”

“I know it wasn’t.” Your father stood up, pouring himself a drink and handing Bradley a second glass without him ever asking. “She never forgave us for that night. And I don’t know if I can blame her. I did what I thought was right. But now, I don’t know.” 

“Why did you do it?” Bradley asked. “Was it just to keep me away from her?” 

Your father shook his head. “You were a thief, Bradley. Why would I want that for my daughter?”

“I thought it was the only way to provide for her,” Bradley said. “I’m ashamed of what I did, sir. I thought, I don’t know. That maybe I could go with her to California. But to do that, I needed money. I wanted to provide a life for her. I just didn’t know how.” 

“You were a child, Bradley,” he said. “A child can’t provide for a woman. A wife.” 

“I know.” Bradley hung his head. “Is she?” 

“She’s happy,” your father said. That was all he said. It was enough and they both knew it. 

Bradley stood up, setting down the glass. “I just came here to say thank you.” 

“For what?” Your father let the shock ring through his voice. 

“For protecting her,” he said. “It forced me to grow up. To be realistic. I appreciate you taking me in. But having you kick me out did more for me than shelter ever would have.” 

Your father nodded. Bradley stepped out into the foyer and opened the door. “Son.” 

He stopped, looking over at your father in the doorway to the office. 

“Thank you.” 

“For what?” 

“For knowing when to walk away.” 

*Twelve years after* 

“Dr. Sullivan, triage on room five says the baby isn’t breathing.” 

“Fuck.” Your sneakers squeaked along the linoleum floors as you sprinted down the hallway. You rounded the corner, tugging on a gown, skidding through the door. “I’m here, walk me through.” 

A nurse gave you the verbal run down as you approached the baby on the warming table. 

“She needs a trache. Call anesthesia, tell them we have a thirty-three week preemie and page an attending.” 

“Dr. Kettering is with a patient in OR two, uterine hemorrhage after a c-section.” 

“Shit,” you whispered under your breath. “OK, gloves.” 

You carefully sliced a small opening in the baby’s neck, inserting a tiny breathing tube, waiting with baited breath until her chest inflated. 

You sighed, hair sticking to the underside of your scrub cap. “Page Dr. Kettering and tell her to meet us in OR three. Tell her we’re bringing in baby Katherine.” 

“Yes, doctor.” 

You watched the nurses wheel away the baby in the warmer before peeling off your gloves, stepping over to the woman in the bed near the window. “Mrs. Yates? Are you doing OK?” 

The tiny brunette shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks. “She’s too small. It’s too early.” 

You patted her hand softly. “It’s going to be OK. We talked about this. We’re ready. Right?” 

She nodded. Behind her, her husband had the same look of apprehension. You recognized it instantly. It was the same with most patients. 

“I’m going to go see your daughter. Get some rest, I’ll be back soon.” 

They nodded weakly. Five hours later, you returned in a sweat-drenched pair of blue scrubs. Mr. and Mrs. Yates looked up the moment you walked in. 

“Katherine did perfect,” you said and they collapsed into each other with joy. “Our team is closing right now and then you can go visit her in the NICU. One of the nurses will take you down there.” 

“Thank you.” The husband gathered you into his arms and you hugged him back. When he pulled back, there were tears in his eyes. “Seriously, thank you.” 

You grinned. “It was my pleasure.” 

***

The sun was blinding. Sinking down against the sky toward the water. You stepped out of the hospital doors and took in a deep breath. 

“Birdy.” 

Every atom in your body froze. Then, you turned, eyes wide. 

Bradley stood ten feet away, wearing a long-sleeve shirt and jeans. He smiled and you felt it in your toes, your stomach, your inner ear. 

“Bradley,” you breathed. So it had been him the other day. Not a mirage like you thought. 

He smiled and it lit up his entire face. “Birdy.” 

A part of you wanted to jump into his arms. Toss your hands around his neck, breathe him in deeply. Make up for lost time. But you held back. What if he was married? Or engaged? 

Instead, you smiled back. 

“Hey there.” 

He pushed his right hand into his pocket. You fiddled with your badge. “Are you, uh, do you work here?” 

You nodded. “Yeah, I do.”

“That’s great.” Bradley couldn’t take his eyes off of you. “Sorry, I just—” 

You shook your head. “I know, it’s been a while.” 

“Are you going somewhere?” he asked. “Can we get dinner? Drinks? Whatever you want.” 

You frowned and Bradley’s heart broke. 

“Or if you can’t, I understand.” 

“No, that’s not it,” you said and he brightened. “I just, are you here with someone?” 

“My friends had a baby,” he said, “but she’s out of surgery and doing OK, I guess.”

“What’s her name?” 

“Katherine.” 

You smiled. “I did her surgery this afternoon. She did great.” 

“You did her surgery?” 

A nod. “Well, there were a few of us in there, but yeah.” 

“I always knew you’d be amazing,” he said softly. And suddenly you were eighteen again. Lying on your bed holding hands with Bradley, dreaming of the rest of your life. “Listen, I should go tell Mel and Jim that I’m heading out. I’ll meet you for dinner. Charlie’s, by the water. Do you know it?” 

You smiled. It was less than a five minute drive from your house. “Yeah, I know it.”

“OK. See you there in like thirty?” 

You nodded. As you turned to leave, Bradley reached out, grabbing your wrist lightly. The electricity of his touch set you on fire. 

He smiled. “God, I missed you.” 

“I’ve missed you, too, B,” you whispered. 

“I don’t want to let you go,” he admitted and you chuckled. “Promise me I’m not going to show up to an empty table?” 

“I promise.” 

***

By the time you arrived, wearing a light linen dress and a pair of sandals, Bradley was already there. He stood up when you came into view and waited until you sat down to take a seat. 

“You look great,” he said softly. 

“Thank you.” You opened the menu, trying to stop your heart from racing. Peering over the top of the menu, you caught Bradley staring. “You look good, too.” 

He blushed. “I’m sorry, I’m probably being so awkward.” 

“I am, too.” 

Bradley held out his hand across the table, palm up. You set the menu down, sliding your hand into his. It was the easiest thing in the world. He looked down, fingers tracing your ring, before looking up with wide eyes. “Is that?” 

You nodded. “I never took it off.” 

Bradley could barely breathe, let alone speak. “Just to be clear, you’re not dating someone, are you?” 

You laughed. “With all my spare time? No, I’m not. There’s barely enough time outside of the hospital to do laundry, let alone meet someone.” You paused. “Are you?” 

He shook his head. “Same here, never really had the time.” Bradley took a sip of water before lifting his gaze. “Besides, why bother when I know it’ll never live up to what I had and lost?” 

“Bradley,” you breathed. 

His hand squeezed yours. “It’s you, Birdy. It’s always been you.” 

“Tell me what happened,” you whispered. “That night. All of it. I spoke to my father, but I want to hear your side.” 

Bradley squeezed your hand before letting it fall back onto the table. “Of course. You deserve to know the truth.” 

Your gaze was locked on Bradley as he recounted it all. How he had pilfered one wallet at the debutante ball out of desperation so he could afford to go to California with you when you left for Stanford. That he had gone into your father’s study, but only to look for documents about his parents. How he had floated for a minute before finding his footing, using his father’s connections to reconnect with his father’s best friend, a man named Maverick, who had taken him under his care and helped Bradley get into the Naval Academy. How he had gone back, five years later, to your parent’s house in Galveston, to apologize. That he had wanted to ask for your contact information, but when your father said you were happy he decided to let you be. He had lost you once. It was more important to him that you were happy, than that you were his. 

“I thought about trying to find you,” he said softly. The plates in front of the two of you were empty. Most of the other dining patrons had cleared out. Once again, it was just you and Bradley, sitting hand-in-hand, two of you against the world. “A hundred times. A thousand, even. But I was always worried that if I did, maybe you wouldn’t want me anymore. Or worse, that I would ruin your life all over again.” 

“You didn’t ruin anything. Not then, and not now.” 

Your heart was fluttering. 

And then the waiter came around. “Check?” 

You smiled, pulling out your wallet. Bradley slipped his card onto the leather bill holder with a frown. “I’m paying, Birdy.”

“Things have changed,” you whispered. 

“Some,” he said softly, signing the check and standing, holding out one hand. “And some things are the same.”

You took his hand. “Can we talk more?” 

“Yes, please.” 

“Follow my car, I live just a few miles from here.” 

Bradley squeezed your hand before letting go. You slid into the driver’s seat, setting off down the road. A few minutes later, you hit the blinker, turning into the shallow driveway of the blue bungalow. Bradley’s Bronco appeared in the rearview, slowly before parking behind your sedan. Bradley stepped out of the truck, his eyes locked on the house. 

You unlocked the front door, ushering him in and sliding off your shoes. “Wine?” 

“Sure.” 

“Make yourself comfortable.” 

You stepped toward the back of the house to the galley kitchen, pulling out a bottle of white wine and two glasses before making your way to the living room. Bradley stood in the center of the room with one hand pressed against his jaw. He turned around. “Honey, I have to tell you something.” 

You set the glasses and wine bottle down. “What is it?” 

“I, um, I used to live here,” he said quietly. “When my parents were alive.” 

“Bradley?” 

“Yeah?”

“I know.” 

He squinted. “You know?” 

You nodded, sitting down on the couch and patting the space next to you. Bradley sat down. “I called Top Gun that summer, trying to find any way I could to reach you. They gave me your last known address and this was it. I bought it after my first year at Stanford and used it as a rental property until I finished medical school and got my residency at UCSD.” 

“I–” Bradley shook his head. “I don’t know what to say.” 

Nerves flooded your body. “I hope it’s not weird. I just, I wanted to feel closer to you. I thought maybe one day you’d come back and you’d find me.” 

He placed one hand on your bare knee. “I lived in your house. Only makes sense that you would live in mine.” 

“I never thought about it that way.” 

The two of you sat in silence for a minute. Bradley’s hand was warm on your bare skin. “I’m sorry,” he whispered after a moment. 

“What are you sorry for?” 

“I made you promises I was never going to be able to keep,” Bradley said. “I just loved you so much, I wanted to make you happy. Even if that meant telling you what I thought I should say instead of what I could say.” 

“Bradley,” you whispered, reaching out softly, placing one hand on his cheek. He had a mustache now, and the stubble scraped against the skin of your palm but it felt right. There were small crows feet in the corner of his eyes from too much time in the sun. Your fingers slid back toward his hair. “You made me happy and that’s what mattered. We were both naive. It wasn’t either of our faults. We were just kids back then.” 

“You always seemed ahead of things,” he murmured. “When you set your mind to something, I knew it would happen. That’s why I really thought we might be able to do it. Run away together. Instead, I was just running. I think I was always running.” 

“When did that stop?” you asked.

“Four hours ago,” he said and your breath caught in your throat, “when I saw you again.” 

“Oh.” 

Bradley’s fingers trailed up your extended arm, from where your fingers were threaded in his hair, down past your elbow, toward your shoulder, tugging you in closer until his face was only a few inches away. “I know it’s been twelve years, Y/N. I know that in reality we’re strangers. But I think a part of me stopped growing without you. It’s like I was on pause and I’ve only now gotten the remote back and I can press play again.” 

“I know what you mean,” you whispered. “Even though it was crazy, somewhere in the back of my mind, I think I’ve always been waiting for you.” 

Bradley had both hands pressed to either side of your face. He smelled familiar, but with something else, something new. You thought about the men you had been with since him. How empty it would feel after, or even during. How you’d lay there in the darkness and think about what it had been like with Bradley. 

“I thought maybe everyone has something like we did when they were young,” you murmured. “That I needed to stop comparing everyone to you. Because maybe your first love is just different. I didn’t know if what we had was real, or if it was just powerful because it was the first time.” 

His thumb stroked your cheek delicately. “It was real, Birdy. At least for me it was.” 

“It was real for me, too.” 

“This is going to sound crazy,” he said, lips pulled back in a smile. You remembered the first time you saw him smile. The first time the two of you swam in the ocean together. 

“I like crazy.” 

He grinned. “I still love you, honey. I never stopped loving you.” 

You held him tightly. “I know,” you whispered. “I never stopped either.” 

And then his lips were on yours as you fell back against the couch cushions, Bradley’s more muscular and defined body slotted between your legs as he pressed you back against the couch, his kiss powerful and familiar and perfect. 

You melted into him. His scent, his touch. A tear slid out from your eye as Bradley’s lips moved slowly, choreographed, against yours, his hands smoothing over your body slowly, as if he was reminding himself about the lines of your figure, tracing a path to a map he had read once but never forgotten. 

Twelve years disappeared in a fleeting moment as you and Bradley moved together, your fingers tight against his biceps, his mouth trailing wet, open kisses to the bare expanse of your neck as the two of you clung to each other tightly. 

You would know Bradley Bradshaw anywhere. You would know Bradley Bradshaw with your eyes closed. You would know Bradley Bradshaw until the moment you died. 

He was bonded to you. He was infused in every single atom in your body. He ran through your veins alongside your blood. He haunted your dreams. He patrolled your memories. His touches were tattooed on your skin like a glow-in-the-dark map that only you could see.  

He was your home. 

THE END 

A/N: Thank you to everyone who read this!! I originally was going to do it as a simple one shot but it truly took on a life of its own.

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[star-girl69]

Keep Me Ablaze

Jake Sully x Neytiri x Fem!Reader

—-

a/n: i hope you all enjoy!!

warnings: like maybe some slight bullying? tell me if i missed anything!!

Chapter Two- Savior

—-

“First day of school! How are you feeling?”

You sigh at Grace’s words, already tired from waking up so early.

“Wanna sleep,” you murmur, and she frowns, eyes bright and picks you up. When she’s in her Avatar, like this, you’re practically a feather to her.

“Well, it’s not like school you normally do. You’re just gonna play, help some kids your age learn English. No math, I promise.” When you don’t perk up, she sighs, digs her fingers into your side. “There. There’s that smile, yeah?”

—-

“Grace,” you say, tugging on her shorts, and she simply smiles and places her hand on your head.

“It’ll be fine, baby, relax,” she soothes, but you’re young and scared of newness, so you tug on her anyways. Her hand is comforting, her scent, but you still want to be high up in her arms. No one can reach you when you’re up there.

“Grace! Grace!” the children chant as she walks in, and even through she said that they’re your age, they still tower above you. You feel small, like you’re nothing. Like whatever fire inside of you Aunt Grace says you have is nothing more than an ember.

She told you you’re a wildfire. And maybe you are, but you don’t feel like it.

She greets them in Na’vi, a langage which you know very little of, but enough to make it out. “Hi, hi, how are you?” she laughs as the children reach out to grab her, touch her hair, her clothes, anything.

She hasn’t seen them in weeks- something about tensions, you had heard, before she spotted you trying to hide behind the wall and ushering you out.

Tensions, but what? Grace says you’re too young. But you still want to know. She blames herself for your curiousness, says you got it from her.

Augustine’s are a blessing and a curse, she would say.

Eventually, the children calm down from the excitement, and Grace turns to you.

“Come on out,” she taunts, drawing you out from behind her. “This is my niece, Y/N. Now, she’s the same age as you, but you have to remember to be very careful when you play with her, hm?”

All of the children look at you, some accusatorially, some the same way they looked at Grace. They’re not scared of newness. They’re not like you.

You smile, even though you don’t mean it, until Grace is pulled away to talk to another adult and all of the children go back to playing. The school is simple, one room in a small building, carpet and posters on the wall. Bookshelves on the far side- where one of the lights is dim, casting a shadow, and you find yourself gravitating towards it.

All of the Na’vi children are too engrossed in their own games to notice you, a tiny little human, so you sit and lean against the bookshelf anyways. You sigh, until you look up.

A girl sits just near you, eyes wide like yours, behind the large chair.

You gasp, and hope she doesn’t feel offended, but she seems as surprised as you.

“Sorry,” you say, calming your racing heart. “I can- I can go.”

You see her chest rise and fall, fast, but her face doesn’t betray anything.

“No, it’s fine,” she whispers.

“I’m- I’m Y/N. Grace is my aunt.”

She stifles a laugh. “Your Na’vi bad,” she says in English, and you smile and laugh yourself. She frowns, thinks over her words. “Is bad. Your Na’vi is bad.”

You nod, and she smiles to herself, seemingly proud.

“I- I am Neytiri.”

“Hi, Neytiri,” you say, in Na’vi, and she laughs at your pronunciation.

—-

“You’re a human.”

You look up from your coloring book, red pencil dropping to the table, eyes meeting with the Na’vi boy in front of you.

“Yes?” you say, although it sounds more like a question.

“My father says the humans are skawngs.”

“Okay?” you mumble, tucking your chin to your chest, wishing someone would save you. A door to open. A star to fall.

You knew that some of the kids would taunt you- but had you truly done anything other than be born into the wrong body?

When Neytiri sits next to you, it’s not a surprise. The two of you gravitate towards each other, have similar flames. You burn the same way.

What is surprising is the force which she slams the box of crayons down with.

You look up, eyes wide, only to find her staring down the boy in front of her, one hand on the box and the other digging into the table.

“Go away,” she hisses, a break of pure rage in between her words.

The boy scoffs, and she tilts her head. Taunting him, challenging him. He falters, but covers it up with a mumble about how it wasn’t that big of a deal and walking away with his friends trailing behind.

She pulls out the chair next to you, a noticeable difference from where she was sitting across from you before, you you choose not to mention it. Her eyes are still stuck on the group of boys in the corner, daring them.

“Thank you, Neytiri,” you say, because Grace was always adamant that you had good manners. She has good manners too, she just didn’t use them all the time.

“It is nothing,” she says, picking up a green crayon.

“You saved me,” you joke. She stops, and you can’t even look down to see what she’s drawing because her eyes are staring so deeply into yours.

“It is nothing,” she repeats, almost as if she would do more for you.

—-

“Come on, Y/N,” Neytiri pleads, tugging you along.

“I’m going as fast as I can,” you hiss, and she shoots you a look over her shoulder.

“Lying.”

“‘M not!”

She smiles and rolls her eyes playfully, and you scoff.

She leads you deeper and further into the forest, and if you were with anyone else, or by yourself, you would be scared. But it’s Neytiri. She would never hurt you.

“Where are you even taking me again?” you grumble, and Neytiri looks over her shoulder again.

“You will like it!” she exclaims. “Promise.”

Even so far away from Hometree, from Grace, you know nothing will happen to you with Neytiri here. She has always saved you, whether it be from a falling book or from a mean Na’vi boy at the school.

You don’t know why. She says you have a strong heart, that your fire burns bright.

That’s all anyone has told you all your life. That whatever fire is inside of you, inside of everyone, it bruns bright. It burns like a wildfire.

But you don’t feel that way.

Neytiri points to a tree just off the path. “You see that? I know that tree. It means we’re close.”

“To what?”

“You will see!”

The foliage is thick and overwhelming, hanging over you and crushing you in. Neytiri’s hand slips from your wrists, fingers melding with you own. She tugs you up the path, closer, next to her, a bright smile on her face.

Finally, the plants seem to start to thin, lean another way, until Neytiri guides you around a large grey rock and you see it.

“It’s beautiful!” you gasp, walking forward to lean in front of the water, dip your fingers in, ruin the stillness.

“Look,” Neytiri guides, and you follow her hand to the patch of flowers growing, hanging over the edge. They look over it like something sad, something vain, always needing to see the reflection. “They only grow by ponds, like this-” she continues.

“Aunt Grace doesn’t have this one in her book.”

You lean forward, thumb the velvet soft petal.

“Her book?”

“She has a book, all about the different plants on Pandora. I’ve read it front to back- this one isn’t in it.”

“Oh, I see.” Neytiri mumbles, crouching down next to you. She touches the flower too, fingertips pulling down on edge of it. It’s a blue flower, fading right into the blue of Neytiri. But it’s decorated with little white spots, like the stars on her face.

“It looks like you.”

You look toward her, only to see her staring at the flower accusingly. “Like me?”

You bite back your laugh. “Yeah, you see?” You grab her hand, unfurl her palm and place it under the edge of the petal. She blends right into it.

“Oh,” she smiles, “you’re right. And- the little white dots, just like my stars?”

“Yeah!” you smile, turning back to the water after seeing something move out of the corner of your eye.

She tells you what kind of fish live in this pond, but her eyes keeps going back to the flower.

It’s silent, for a minute, just the two of you in the midst of everything.

“Y/N,” Neytiri asks, and when you turn she is sitting behind you, neck craned to look at the flower.

“Yes?” you say, and she turns to you.

“You never said. Do you- do you think that i- it’s pretty? The flower?”

“It’s beautiful,” you say with a smile, and she waits for a moment before smiling back.

—-

“Y/N?”

“Hi, Neytiri,” you smile, looking up from whatever you were doing- now long forgotten.

“How are you?” you smile at her question, because she only says that when she’s nervous.

You tilt your head to the side, and she sighs.

“Okay. I- I have something for you?”

Your heart skips a beat and you feel like you’re being consumed by the fire that roars inside you.

“A gift?”

“Your- your book,” she starts, sitting down next to you on the floor, your knees touching, her hand behind her back. “The one about the plants? The flowers? This one…” she moves her hand out from behind her back, “is from high on the mountains. Where the humans aren’t allowed. I thought-”

She trails off, looking at you oddly, but your eyes are fixed on the soft pink flower in front of you. It looks like something from earth- a tulip, maybe, not like something from Pandora. Isn’t that amazing? That some things like that can surpass the universe? Simple, soft beauty like that.

“Y-Y/N?”

“Ah!” you shout, finally coming to your senses, leaning forward to wrap your arms around her shoulders.

She’s still for a second, silent, until she lets out a small laugh, one arm carefully wrapping around your waist.

When you pull back, on your knees now to even reach her height, she smiles and hands you the flower.

You grin up at her before looking down, entranced by the flower. Your hair falls out from behind your ears, but Neytiri is quick to push it back.

She looks at you like you are the most beautiful fire, swirling and raging like a storm, held back by nothing but your own will.

“My human,” she says, not knowing this will be the last time she’ll see you burn like this for years.

—-

taglist:

@kitkat1690 @tiajk @reallysparklychaos @behindthearcane @neteyamforlife @aeslenya @ghoulbli @luvvsnae @personapersonally @bubble-blu @ameriesworld @itsyoboysparkel @ok-boke @arschbohrer @ambria @ssc7514 @w3ird11 @vane28282 @littlexscarletxwitch @erenjaegerwifee @eywas-heir

[tiaragqueen]

The Sleeping Horror

Yandere! Izaya Orihara x Female! Reader

Hello! It’s been years, hasn’t it? Idk if you guys missed me, but I do miss writing for other fandom beside genshin and twst. I was planning to make a whole new account, but I was too lazy so here I am! Let’s start with something ‘soft’ and fantastical, shall we? Inspired by the line in the Wikipedia page of his relationship with Shizuo: “Izaya also holds the belief that only humans possess the ability to slay monsters.” And Sleeping Beauty story (would you believe me if I told you I rewrote this three times?).

Admittedly, marriage wasn’t something Izaya really had in mind.

Not because he was a player, but because he was still young. Still adventurous. Still mischievous. He wanted to see more people, more kingdoms, more chaos. His position as a prince allowed him that much, but it also came with many responsibilities. And one of them was an arranged marriage.

Until now, Izaya wasn’t sure how to react when he found out he was already betrothed since birth. On one hand, he was somewhat irritated with the fate his father had oh-so-kindly lay out in front of him. Even as a child, he should at least have some freedom to choose his own suitor, right? It wasn’t as if he was a particularly naïve kid who thought suitors were equal to playmates. He’d always been intelligent, albeit quieter and more distant.

But on the other hand, you sounded quite… interesting. Yes, sounded, because he’d never seen you. There wasn’t even a painting of you somewhere in your castle. It was either you vanished or you only existed in people’s imagination. Then, his father, Shirou, disproved of the latter because he recounted a story that happened during your christening. Apparently, your father had enraged a wicked fairy by excluding her from the event and she promptly avenged her wounded ego by cursing you to prick your finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel before the sun set on your sixteenth birthday and die. One of the pixie fairies whom your father did invite, used her blessing to weaken the curse so that instead of dying, you’d fall into a deep sleep, only broken by true love’s kiss. Because, apparently, her magic wasn’t strong enough to undo the curse. So, your father ordered all spinning wheels throughout the kingdom be burned and the remains were hidden in the dungeon.

It certainly explained why Izaya heard a few peasants grumbling about the lack of spinning wheels when he occasionally visited your kingdom. But, alas, Shirou didn’t seem to know about your whereabouts. It didn’t help that he forbade him from mentioning the incident to your own father too, despite the fact that Izaya had a right to know as your fiancé.

So, using the intelligence he’d built up after years of scheming and illicit dealings, Izaya managed to pinpoint your location. It was a humble cottage in the middle of the forest, secluded enough to avoid the wicked fairy’s eyes but not enough for his. Izaya smirked as if he’d won a high-staking gamble, and with the leverage he had on your father, it could be described as one. Shirou wasn’t a fool, but his job as a king did prevent him from knowing the full extent of Izaya’s secret occupation and hobby.

And thus, Izaya set out to find his cursed fiancée. As expected, you were every bit of a country bumpkin; naïve and improper. It was clear that you’d never seen a stranger beyond your three bumbling fairy ‘aunts’, judging by how you openly gaped at his sudden appearance when you were singing to your animal friends. And yet, Izaya allowed your curiosity shine through, anyway, if not because of how pathetically cute you looked right now. Like a dog, or a kitten, that he could easily pick up and bring somewhere else because you were just so defenseless.

Did your aunts even teach you not to trust a stranger, whoever it was?

Apparently, no. Because there was a limit to how ‘human’ they could pretend to be, and you wouldn’t have known any better because they were all you had growing up. Even now, a good parent shouldn’t let their daughter play too long in the forest where anything and everything could happen to her, especially when she didn’t possess any self-defense skills.

Especially when she was you, a princess in hiding.

Perhaps you were lucky that he was the one who met you. Izaya couldn’t imagine what would happen if it was that wicked fairy instead?

… Or he could! There was no limit for possibilities in his mind. That was how he could stay entertained despite so many of his plans veering off their tracks.

Truly, it’d be a shame if you were to get caught, right?

Well, it would, but he wouldn’t do that. He wanted to see what would happen if he didn’t intervene in the course of your life. Would it end happily ever after like Shirou hoped? Or would it become a nightmare for you and your kingdom instead? So far, you were the most interesting woman he’d ever met despite your obvious flaws, which some lessons in table manners and etiquette could rectify. And perhaps Izaya would bestow more of his ‘love for humanity’ in keeping you by his side regardless, even if the latter were to befall you.

Was this what the power of bias felt like? It wasn’t that bad, and it might’ve made him feel a bit closer to being a human, but Izaya wanted to know more about your feelings when you found out that he pitied you. Would you be offended? Touched? Upset?

Ah, the possibilities were truly endless, weren’t they?

Apparently, you’d fallen for him at first meeting, and were excited to tell your aunts about him when they revealed your true status as a betrothed princess. You could never meet ‘him’ again, they said. It was somewhat foolish of them to not allow you to tell them about him, but then again, Izaya doubted they’d known him let alone see his face. It was enough that they neglected you most of the time, albeit accidentally. How could he trust them to remember who he was?

Then, the fated thing happened.

The wicked fairy found out about you.

After the fairies brought you to your father’s castle in disguise, they let you grieve over your broken heart in your new room. But the wicked fairy used your sadness to entrance you and led you to an abandoned tower. All this time, Izaya watched from the shadows without anyone’s knowledge, not even your own father. His fingers twitched with an unexplainable urge to help you when you were forced to touch the conjured spinning wheel, while his brain – the more dominant part of him – convinced him to watch a little longer. It wasn’t as if he could challenge the fairy head-on, and he didn’t have any magic to do so despite his yearning heart.

Eventually, you succumbed to the curse, and the wicked fairy gloated over it to your belated aunts.

While waking you up with a kiss sounded ideal, it was more tempting to kill the wicked fairy first of all, if not to feel the rush of adrenaline and victory in his hands. Maybe you’d be grateful for it too, and thus, strengthening your love for him and salvaging your broken heart. But since he didn’t have the appropriate weapon to defeat her, Izaya was left to approach the pixies.

“Excuse me. You three look quite flustered. Is there something wrong?”

“Oh, my! You surprised me there, young man.” the pink one gasped, holding her tiny chest. “A-and no, we’re fine. Thank you for asking.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, still with the amiable smile that took him years of etiquette lessons and scheming to perfect. “You see, I have a fiancée, and I was told that I’d be seeing her today.”

They exchanged quizzical glances at each other.

“My name is Izaya Orihara.” He took a medal from his pocket as a proof of his own identity. “I’m betrothed to the princess of this kingdom. But, unfortunately, I was never able to see her. It upsets me terribly to postpone another meeting with her, when we should’ve been together since the very first start.”

Izaya languished at them through a sad friends as he clutched the medal desperately. Almost all too easily, the fairies fell to his trap with a sympathetic ‘aw’. They didn’t even question why he had the medal in his pocket rather than in his person as a prince should be. But, at least, he wasn’t lying.

“It is against our nature to be in the way of fate, especially a fated love.” said the green one. “A wicked fairy has cursed your fiancée to sleep forever unless awaken by a true love’s kiss, and she’s currently sleeping in this tower right now.”

“Ah, how terrible.” Izaya moaned sadly. “I wish I could do something to that fairy for daring to hurt my precious fiancée.”

Once again, they looked at each other.

“Let us help you with a bit of our magic, Child.” The blue one declared. “Hopefully, with these, you can end the wicked fairy’s reign of darkness once and for all.”

They armed him with the Sword of Truth and the Shield of Virtue, which they stated to be weapons of righteousness that would triumph over evil, and Izaya felt more powerful than ever. He wondered if he could even beat them with these, but they might prove their usefulness again in the future. That, and it’d be easier to manipulate you with them seeing as they were practically a ‘family’ to you.

And so, the group traveled to the mountain where the wicked fairy lived and began the most exhilarating battle he’d ever had. Cornered, the fairy transformed into a fire-breathing dragon. Another wrench to his plan, but Izaya wasn’t too worried because his agility saved their lives at the end of the day. He managed to stab her through her chest with great effort and watched her fall from the cliff.

Truly, only humans had the ability to slay monsters.

“That was wonderful, Child!” the blue fairy gushed, while the others clapped and nodded in agreement.

Izaya feigned a humble chuckle.

“I couldn’t possibly do that without your help, either, so please don’t give me all the credits.”

Flattered as they were, they hadn’t forgotten their second priority: waking you up with a true love’s kiss.

But, shockingly enough, Izaya’s kiss did nothing to your sleeping self.

“H-how could this be?!” the pink one shrieked. “Prince Izaya is supposed to be her fiancé, so why doesn’t it work?!”

While they proceeded to question each other, Izaya took the time to observe you. Your forehead was wrinkled as if suffering from a nightmare, your lips parted slightly as if wanting to say something, and your hands grasped the red roses as if trying to protect yourself with it.

It was far from the peaceful sight he’d expected to see, and the realization brought a mocking, almost humorless laugh from his throat.

“What’s wrong? Why are you laughing?’

“No, it’s nothing. Pardon my unseemly reaction.” said he, wiping his teary eye with his gloved hand. “May I ask you to bring her father here?”

“The King? What can you possibly need from him?”

“You said that only a true love’s kiss can wake her up, right? Well, he’s the one who asked you to protect her. Isn’t that what a ‘true love’ is? The feeling of wanting to protect someone?”

And such feeling wasn’t strong enough within him, or rather, he merely allowed it to wash over him. Otherwise, he would’ve stopped the wicked fairy from bewitching you earlier. Besides, Izaya was too logical to ever fall for someone at first meeting, no matter how interesting they were, and the curse said nothing about needing both parties to love each other for it to be broken.

While the fairies were occupied in bringing your father, Izaya approached one of the maids that happened to pass by.

“Bring me the dragon’s head from the cliff in the wicked fairy’s mountain.”

“Is it her own head?”

He merely smiled, and the spy nodded with a sigh. He wasn’t sure how you’d react once you woke up, but it didn’t hurt to have another ‘decoration’ inside his room. Then, he returned to the tower where your father was already standing at the bedside.

“P-Prince Izaya?!” he stammered. “Since when have you been here? Shouldn’t you notify me beforehand? Why are you dressing so... casually?”

“Now, now, that part isn’t as important as our dear princess is. And I must say, I’m quite hurt to know that you neglected to tell me that she’s been cursed all along.”

Your father flinched and looked down guiltily.

“I didn’t want it to become an international problem.”

“But there were many guests at that time, no? Don’t you think I deserve to know, as her fiancé?” Despite the feelings that Izaya didn’t quite absorb and understand, and your flaws that he mocked and used, a hint of bitterness managed to slip through his tongue. He waved his hand dismissively, both to your father and to his own emotions. “Regardless, you have the duty to save your daughter from the curse. So, go ahead. Don’t worry about the wicked fairy. I’ve slayed her, and her body is at the bottom of the cliff in her own abode. I’ll bring her head if you don’t believe me.”

The fairies gasped, while your father merely gaped, shocked at his callousness. The king glanced at the pixies, and they nodded hesitantly, confirming the part of the battle.

“I… I believe you.”

Slowly, he hovered over your face for a moment before he leaned down to press a deep kiss onto your forehead. Your troubled face relaxed little by little, and Izaya almost felt jealous when you fluttered your eyes open.

“She’s awake!” one of the pixies enthused.

Your father heaved a sigh of relief and smiled almost shakily. And yet, when your eyes landed on Izaya, they immediately widened in fear.

“No, I refuse to marry him!”

[i-love-jay-walker]

Agent Walker Piece

The tapping of the well-used keyboard echoed around in Jay’s head, bouncing around in what felt like a completely empty space. The new hire typed something up in the document, but Jay couldn’t be bothered to really check it through. The kid probably knew what he was doing. And if not, he would just make it Prentis’ problem. This was a complete waste of his far too precious time. “Like that, sir?” The young worker queried as he looked up from his dusty computer, fingers still lingering on the keys. His brown eyes were far too bright and joyful for someone in the Administration, filling his superior with almost a feeling of unease. Some people are just too joyous in this world. “Huh?” Jay blinked before his eyes focused back on the screen in front of them, boredom immediately washing over him as his eyes glazed over again. It was probably right. “Oh, uh, yeah. Like that.” “Okay. So then I just change that to Stockroom A? Or is it that thing where it has to go to the Archive System?” “Archive System, Collin. It’s not in Overflow, so it’s an Archive.” The brunette let out a sigh as he pinched his nose, eyes squeezing closed as the clacking of the keyboard began again. So. Maybe it wasn’t right. Was there really not a single competent worker in his department? “So… That would be Personal Belongings, right?” Collin mumbled as he typed away, not waiting for his superior's response, who frankly, wasn’t really listening either way. “And we sent them to the Wyldness. So that would be-” The blonde peered onto a piece of paper, filled with scribbles and notes of different codes and notes. “Uh, AS-F6-1648-5I, sir?” “Is everything a question with you?” Jay mumbled as he glanced over the document, his eyes quickly gliding over the words. Yup, those were definitely words. Maybe the right ones too. “Yes, that’s correct. Are we done?” “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” “You better be, I have more important ga-, uh, work to do.” The brunette coughed awkwardly before he hurried off, narrowly avoiding multiple questions thrown his way by other incompetent workers. Ignoring any onlookers, Jay began to grumble mockingly to himself as he stomped his way to his office, weariness weighing heavily on his shoulders. “Why do I have to do everything around here. Just because I’m the damn boss. Sir, do this. Sir, do that. Do it yourself! Can’t you see I’m busy!” The former ninja angrily slammed the door shut behind him, ignoring the way his “Employee Of The Year” trophies wobbled on the shelf, threatening to fall to the already messy floor. With a groan he threw himself into his black office chair, cursing to himself as it began to swirl, before he firmly gripped his cluttered desk and pulled him and the chair closer. A sigh escaped his tightly pulled lips as he allowed himself to sink into the chair, running a hand over his irate expression, beginning to relax his narrowed brow and unclench his teeth. For a short while, Jay just sat there in complete silence, head resting against his palm as he attempted to calm himself down. Some days the workers just seemed extra incompetent and today was one of those days. He needed a break. Maybe a vacation. But the Administration didn’t allow either. So there he was, stuck in just about the worst job in all of the merged realms. When he finally stretched out his weary arm, reaching for his trusty controller, his fingers gracing the cheap, grey plastic and- DING. The damned intercom. “AGENT JAY WALKER, YOU ARE BEING SUMMONED TO BOARDROOM 38B POST HASTE. MAKE YOUR WAY THERE IMMEDIATELY.”. Jay didn’t even know his controller could shatter into that many pieces when thrown against a wall.

[occasionallyprosie]

A Thousand Ways

Chapter 5: "Forests, Farms, and Family"

In the middle of the night, Legend finds himself dropped into an unknown forest with nothing more than an assassin's knife and magic he only just learned.

First | <<Previous | Next>>

Not Febuwhump (aka continuing plot)

Read On AO3 Warnings: None :)

He woke up falling.

Legend cursed loudly when he hit the ground. He dragged himself to his feet and flicked out the knife he'd kept on his person since the assassination attempt. 

He was in a forest, tall winding trees in numerous shades of green. The ground didn't have much in the way of fallen leaves but soft grass and underbrush.

The portal must've come in the night. He hated it when they did that.

He didn't recognize the forest nor its magic. It was familiar, that was for sure, and dark. He'd been here before, but with how much time travel he'd done, he still was unsure.

"Okay, okay," he let out a soft breath, "you're in an unknown forest— boots!"

At least the portal had dropped his boots with him. He pulled the shoes on, raising his head to study his dark surroundings.

He didn't have anything else, he didn't see anything else. So he looked up at the stars and almost pouted at seeing nothing. A cloudy night then, no wonder it was so dark.

"Right," he muttered. "Unknown forest, unknown era... no equipment. Adventure number four all over again."

He'd be fine. At least he had a weapon this time.

"Not fine!"

Legend cursed all that was holy as he weaved through the trees. He tried to catch the half dozen monsters trying to kill him off guard. He managed to flank the moblin and tore a fairly deep gash in its side only to nearly get cut in the face by one of Wild's stupid lizalfo's tongues.

He managed to steal a sword off an armos and though it was as brittle as its armor, he used it long enough to take out the two bokos before it snapped and he threw it in the lizalfos' face.

The moblin, black blood seeping from the gash in its side, lumbered toward him completely unhindered.

An explosion of fire sent it flying back.

Legend panted, staggering a bit as he scanned his surroundings for more monsters.

He had to find either civilization or the others. Where the first monsters he ran into had been homogeneously from Warriors' era, this one had been from all across the timeline and two —the moblin and one of the bokos— had black blood.

He pushed himself to his feet and kept running.

He really needed to find safety.

He found a farmhouse.

It'd have to do. He needed bandages or at least directions to the nearest town.

Despite the time, he went up to the front door and knocked, trying to subtly hold his side to apply pressure on a gash. His hair ended up tied up with the remains of his green under-tunic, leaving it in a high ponytail as a result.

The door opened. "Yes—oh!"

It was a young woman, she had blonde hair tied in pigtail braids, wearing a white shirt and a pink skirt.

"Sorry," he winced. "I just need directions to the nearest town, that's—"

"Oh no you don't." She pulled the door fully open. "Come on in. Momma! We got a hurt kid!"

Legend startled back, but the girl grabbed his arm and tugged him inside. An older blonde woman came in, gasping softly.

"Oh! Linkle go get some bandages and a potion!"

The older woman took Legend from the girl, Linkle, and tugged her over to the sofa.

"No, I don't want to—"

"You are just fine, young man," the woman said sternly. "We are helping you and don't you make a fuss about it. The closest town's a two hour journey from 'ere."

Legend sighed. He knew better than to argue with farm women who had their minds set on things. His grandmother was the only person in his life he hadn't been able to dissuade from things they had their hearts and minds set on.

He reluctantly complied, Linkle and a younger red-haired girl coming in with medical supplies. It didn't take long to clean and bandage the gash in his side, and the older woman had all but forced the potion down his throat when he tried to argue against using it.

The young girl suddenly returned with a cup of tea and the older woman pushed it into his hands.

"Drink up, young man," the woman told him. "Can you tell us what happened? Where's your family?"

Legend snorted a bit. "I ran into monsters trying to catch up with them. I'm on a sort of trip with... with my brothers, and we got separated a while back. I can usually handle myself fine, but someone kinda stole my supplies, so all I got is a knife."

"Oh that sucks," Linkle grimaced. "What's your name?"

"Link."

"Really? My brother's got the same name, though a lotta people do really. I'm Linkle, this is my baby sister Lily," the younger, red-haired girl who'd brought him the tea smiled brightly, "and this is my Momma, Leah."

"Thank you," he told them sincerely. "I owe you big time."

"It's no problem, dear," Leah assured him. "We're glad to help."

"Besides, Linkle's got too much of a savior complex to not help," Lily teased.

Linkle rolled her eyes. "Oh shut up."

"You can stay here for the night," Leah told Legend, holding up her hand before he could argue. "Linkle will take you to town in the morning, she's got plenty of allowance from the Queen to help you get back on your feet. And don't you try and avoid it. I want you with a full bag of provisions, and a sword before you and her split ways, you hear me, young man?"

Legend stared at her. "I really don't need—"

Leah gave him a pointed look.

He sighed, slumping a bit. "Yes ma'am."

He learned their surname was Tailor, they had a whole herd of sheep and a cotton field, along with cuccos that Linkle insisted on introducing Legend to.

He made a note to visit his grandparents soon when he got back to his time. He missed them, the Tailors reminded him of them and he hadn't been there in a while. He hadn't seen Epona or Piyoko in ages...

As he and Linkle headed for the village, a portal appeared in front of them.

"Whoa!" Linkle pulled out a crossbow and shoved him back. "What's that?!"

"It's a portal," he said, pushing her arm down. "I, uhh... that "sort-of trip" I'm on with my brothers? It's kinda across time?"

She stared at him. "Oh. Wait, so this is for you?"

"Yep. And it doesn't really like to wait otherwise it just appears under my feet. So—Thank you so much for the help, but I got to go."

She sighed, scowling at the portal. "Rude. We had plans today!" The portal didn't respond. "Oh fine. Go. But be careful!"

"I will. This isn't my first rodeo."

She laughed. "Ain't mine either, but that don't mean I'm not careful. Go back to those grandparents of yours in one piece, you hear me?"

He smiled and nodded. "I intend to. I'll see if I can bring Piyoko with me, maybe I'll be able to introduce you."

"You better! Now git."

Legend laughed and he went through the portal.

The next world was definitely Wild's. He figured that out quickly when he found himself on a cliff overlooking a vast kingdom.

The cliff turned out to be a plateau with exactly zero ways down.

He cleared the plateau of monsters, stealing a few brittle swords as he went and using them to go for the bright yellow, practically golden, lynel, cursing the Champion's world as he did.

He internally thanked Twilight's Zelda for teaching him some actually offensive magic. Din's Fire was unbelievably helpful and Nayru's Love had already saved his life against the lynel multiple times.

He ducked behind one of the few remaining trees, panting heavily. The lynel roared behind him.

The plateau was uninhabited, he'd searched the whole thing. Despite the ruins of a temple and the old hut, there was nobody except monsters and animals. Monsters hell-bent on killing him.

"Alright, magic don't fail me now."

Farore's Wind took him from behind the tree to another spot about ten feet to his left. He ran at the lynel, which roared when it took a second too long to notice him.

He slid beneath the lynel, dragging a brittle sword through its stomach. It broke but did enough that he was able to swing himself onto its back. Exactly like the Champion had shown him what felt like ages ago. He had called it ride or die... a very apt name.

He teleported above the lynel and drove the only other weapon he had, a short sword, into its skull with a downward thrust.

It sent him flying that time and he tumbled across the ground. He hissed out his pain, quickly recovering to his feet out of pure necessity. Was that stupid thing dead yet—

It was. It crumbled to the ground and stayed there, smoking away.

He let out a sigh of relief, dropping to one knee as he breathed heavily. He assessed his supplies and situation.

The weapons were definitely broken. He suddenly understood why Wild was always breaking weapons, the ones in his era were incredibly deteriorated, brittle, and cheap.

Legend dragged himself back to his feet and made his way to the alcove near the temple ruins. A weak fire spell had a campfire going just as the sun set, and he ate a few apples before leaning back and letting himself rest, not sleep, never sleep.

He'd find a way down the plateau in the morning.

Legend walked around the edge of the plateau, looking for the lowest point. He didn't have his Roc's Cape or a hookshot, Farore's Wind didn't go as far as the wall was. It was at least fifty feet up, if not more.

He could just fall, use the spell, and hope for the best...

No, he could see the monsters down there. He was not doing that.

He didn't want to just wait out the portal. Maybe he could make some kind of rope from vines and repel down...

He ended up waiting out the portal, repelling down to the ground only for the portal to show up ten feet after he landed.

He cursed loudly but walked through.

This time he was in another forest, with... big glowing mushrooms.

He hardly hesitated to tap the luminous fungi and they bounced and jiggled in response. Legend stared, very confused by the odd flora. He pulled out his knife and carefully tried to cut it.

It cut easily, but very quickly it just... fixed itself. He brushed his hand over the gash he'd made and felt no difference, no seam, nothing.

"Huh," he muttered. What in the name of...

He tried cutting out a whole piece of it, holding the mushroom piece in one hand, and as the large mushroom reformed, the one in his hand became almost liquidated and he quickly tried to drop it.

A new, smaller mushroom had sprung up where it had landed.

Okay... probably should not make a mushroom army that may or may not one day become sentient. He did not need that on his conscience.

"Hey!"

He whirled around, Din's Fire burning up his fingers and knife spinning into a reverse grip in his hands.

A girl, probably mid-twenties, stood there in a magenta-pink tunic somewhat similar to the one Twilight wore, with steel chainmail under the tunic. She had ribbons weaved into her very blonde hair, framing her face.

That wasn't the big thing though. The big thing was how bright she was.

Her magic positively glowed, she was brighter than the sun itself and so thick with divinity as well. He was near certain she was a goddess except he knew the Golden Three's magic, and she wasn't any of them.

Who was that goddess that Sky and Wild worshiped? It was a lake— Hylia? That sounded about right, the reflection of Lolia.

"Who are you?" She questioned, eyes alight with curiosity that burned through him, her eyes flicked all over him, to his fingertips, chest, and face, he didn't like it. "I've never seen you before."

"Link," he said. "Who are you?"

"Zelda," she approached him but didn't come that close, "Knight of Skyloft. There's no humans on the Surface, and the only Link around is my fiancé. The humans all died to Demise's armies. But you... you have Heart in your blood."

"I think it's 'blood in my heart,'" Legend corrected, letting Din's Fire fade back into his blood. The constant thrum of fire in his veins was a nice if not weird change since he learned the spell.

"No," she shook her head, "you have Courage in your soul, it was built into it, integral to it, and just like the Courageous Spirit you have, you have Heart, Love, Light, in your blood."

Legend studied her. He realized the brightness she had, the origin of her magic, it was the same as Fable's. Twilight's Zelda had it too... he'd attributed it to wielding a piece of the Triforce, which was why he had it too.

"You have my grace in your veins," she moved even closer and Legend took a matching step back. "You've time traveled," she concluded.

Legend stared at her. "Excuse me. What?"

"You're not from here, but Nayru has left her mark on you. I know every human alive and you clearly have my power in your blood." She grinned as she leaned forward. "You're my descendant! I can feel it--No, wait, Link and I plan to have kids someday--you're our descendant! That's why you have both Farore and I in your being more prominently than Din or Nayru, even though they've both left their mark on you as well. You are very familiar with the three's power."

Oh, so it was Hylia. This was Sky's Zelda, the goddess reborn as a mortal. The goddess whose bloodline was that of the royal family's.

"You're a child of the goddesses," she concluded.

Legend found his voice failing him. "No—I'm not. I couldn't—Yes I'm of Farore but I'm not— I don't have—I'm not descended from—"

Her grin softened into a gentle smile. "You didn't know?" She guessed, her voice far softer. "I may not exactly have experience with having a child, but I can tell you that your blood has divinity in it, and I know the golden three's blood claim intimately. You have my blood claim. I can see it."

He felt faint.

He couldn't even argue it, her point wasn't a feeling or an observation, it was something—it was a literal, divine revelation.

The goddess —mortal though she was— herself had to tell him that he was her descendant.

"Oh," he breathed, his voice shaking.

She smiled. "Here, we're building a settlement here on the surface. Why don't you come see it?"

The beginning of Hyrule... of...

He managed to give a small nod. When he didn't move, Zelda grabbed his hand and led him through the forest.

"You don't seem very prepared for this time, there are many servants of Demise around still. A knife and some magic? Oh, do you more often fight with your magic?"

Legend shrugged a bit. He wasn't sure what to say and so he fell back on silence. Zelda smiled at him.

"Link does that too when he's overwhelmed," she informed him softly and he was not accustomed to the fondness she displayed, Twilight's Zelda had done the same. "How much do you know about Skyloft?"

Feeling a bit called out, he cleared his throat and forced out, "Not a lot." Sky had said a fair bit about it, but not as much as Legend would probably info dump about Labrynna or Holodrum, and therefore wasn't all that much.

She nodded and soon launched into a full-blown history lesson on how Skyloft was raised.

Legend listened, trying to hold onto her words and remember them while also trying to keep his world from spinning and flipping on its axis.

Twilight's Zelda had been right.

Zellie and Little Link — They were Fable and Legend, just... from an alternate timeline.

Fable was his sister.

Why... How didn't he know this sooner?

As they walked, they heard a loud blaring horn. A war horn echoed through the forest and the ground trembled with it.

To Legend's absolute horror, a whole horde of monsters were filtering through the trees toward them.

"Get back!" Zelda pushed him back, drawing a sword. "Go straight east, Hyrule Town is—"

"Respectfully, I'm not leaving you alone," Legend said bluntly. He counted thirty-ish monsters about forty yards out. He flicked out his knife.

"You can't—"

"I promise you, I can. You take care of yourself, I don't doubt you can, but Sky would kill me if I let anything happen to you."

Zelda faltered. Then she must've recognized something in him. "You have..." her voice trailed off. "You have his..." Then her face hardened and she nodded to him. "Be careful. Come out of it alive."

Legend grinned. "Of course."

They both rushed the monsters the last twenty yards between them.

Fighting with a tiny knife was not easy, fighting with magic was a bit easier.

He managed to modify Din's Fire, mixing it with Nayru's Love and essentially forming a sphere of fire around him.

He stole blades off monsters, dancing through the battlefield to a melody he'd long trained his steps to follow. The beat quickened as his heartbeat raced faster and faster from adrenaline. The melody matched his heart rate.

Then he ran into the black blooded monsters.

He didn't miss a beat, he had a great rhythm going. He slashed through one, leaving it to recover in order to dive beneath the swinging arm of another, scale its back, and drive the horribly crafted blade he'd stolen off a bokoblin into its nape and drag it down over the recovering other black blooded monster.

One would not be getting up and the other would take a moment.

Legend burst both into flames, fire exploding from an orb and he dodged to the side from a sharp tongue shooting out.

He cut the tongue with his knife and the lizalfos it was connected to screeched loudly, had it spoken any of the half dozen languages Legend spoke, he was certain he would've heard many profanities.

He ended up nearly kicking a head or two off. Rolling into his landing and springing up onto another moblin's back to carve its spine open.

More monsters filled in the spaces above fallen bodies.

His hands were slick with red, purple, and black blood. His clothes soaked. His hair was beginning to come loose and he couldn't stop it either.

The moment the last monster was gone, Legend turned to find Zelda and she was grinning at him.

"We did it!" She exclaimed, covered in blood too. "Are you alright? Do you need a potion?"

Legend laughed. "I'm fine. Are you..." 

He spotted someone over her shoulder and that adrenaline suddenly shot back up.

"TRAVELER!"

Hyrule stared at him in clear shock. "VETERAN?!"

He tried to run toward the other hero, but one steady step was followed by air beneath his foot.

A portal formed beneath him and the last thing he saw before falling through and instinctively curling to try and minimize damage from his landing, was Hyrule's bright eyes filling with shock, hope, and a bit of disbelief.

He slammed onto new ground. His head spun and he almost wanted to vomit as he hit his knees and elbow on the soft, grassy surface.

A groan escaped him. That was an awful portal.

He dragged himself to his feet and looked around, blinking away stars. 

"Traveler?" He called out. "Traveler!"

Nothing.

Legend cursed loudly and he ignored how blood trickled down his arms and hands, tightening his grip on his knife and began searching the area for any sign of the other heroes. He hadn't sustained so bad of injuries that he was going to be feeling faint any time soon.

He'd been so close, goddesses, he had been so close.

Next>>

[mightycrumbles]

Yesmy and their companions have been through quite a lot in the span of a few weeks. YES, they were able to survive the blast from the explosion they may or may not have caused, thanks to a companion, Stoker the Kobold, that carried them out of the flames. The party was able to find the source of the “twisted” energy that’s been affecting another companion, Prince Jeremiah Jr. II (Princey), which was guarded by some “twisted” beasts. After much deliberation, meaning arguing, Yesmy used a remove curse scroll Stoker had given them to be rid of the enhancement spell placed on an-anti magic crystal that was radiating the “twisted” energy, which seems to have stopped the curse on Princey’s leg.

With a resolution, but frustration still in the air, the group returned to their carriage and made camp for the night with plans to return to Asten Falls in 3 days travel. However, with tension still high in the group there was, a rather inevitable, confrontation between two members, Stoker and Lias, having Stoker attack Lias in the middle of the night, resulting in Lias getting a broken jaw- however he has a “Not-Friend” on his side, which sent Stoker flying farther into the woods. The other three companions awoke to Lias rushing to pack and leave in fear. Thrill of Life (Thrill) tried to question him, asking what was happening, where’s Stoker? Lias tried to make a break for it, but being far too used to chasing the man, Yesmy teleported in flames in front of Lias to try to stop him in his tracks, but in a too-gone state Lias attacked Yesmy. Thrill and Princey eventually knocked out Lias after Yesmy threatened to do worse.

Thrill decided to stay and talk with Lias while Princey and Yesmy looked for Stoker in the woods around them, after finding some tracks. Thrill and Lias had a chat on their own, bonding more than they may have wanted. Yesmy and Princey realized Stoker’s tracks were heading back to Asten Falls. They talked about Lias, Princey being adamant that he is a danger not only to the group but to the Kingdom and should be arrested- even going as far as to look for his “dark evil secrets in his diary”, however when he couldn’t understand what was written in the book, and Yesmy insisted that it must not have been Lias, it has the “Not-Friend” he gave up looking for evidence. The two argued a bit more of their situation before Yesmy got annoyed and charmed Princey to just quietly head back to camp.

Once there, Lias was awake and Thrill was nowhere to be seen. Yesmy immediately rushed to find Thrill, and Princey and Lias got into a heated back and forth. Yesmy found Thrill scared and alone not too far from the camp, he simply said, “It wasn’t Lias-“ and Yesmy was pulling him back to camp in a panic and fury. Yesmy immediately told the charmed Princey to stop talking and then examined Lias, figuring out that it was Lias now, but that the “Not-Friend” was still around. Yesmy then got everyone packing and telling them that they’re all going back to Asten Falls this very moment.

On the way back Yesmy promised Princey they’d never use that spell on him again, Thrill shared a new ability he’s been starting to grasp onto, time manipulation (!!!), and Lias shares more of his past with the group, having twisted beginnings, a title, and a predestined life now lost to ashes-

We then cut to Lite, a young woman that has finally gotten her long awaited letter from Otto, she’ll finally get to be an adventurer, and she can’t wait to meet the people joining her-

.

.

.

We’re finally lvl 5 babes, LETS GOOOO!!! I love this DND group so much, it may not be other people’s cup of tea, but the stories we’re creating are so fun to me! I mean, these are my friends, so I’m mainly glad we just get to hang out- BUT I MEAN, you give a bunch of film majors and closeted theater kids a game where we can create whatever wild story we want 👀👀👀 It’s gonna get a little wild-

[avvail]

I dont know if you're doing requests for the Adam and Sonny drabbles but... if you are: sonny gets caught in the crossfire of Adam's job, for a bit of caretaking and fluff between them? Thank you :)

tw: gun injury, blood, yes children are harmed

The glint of the gun appeared in Sonny’s peripheral for a only a moment.

He had just been glad that the pressure around his neck had disappeared, that air was flooding down his lungs and Julio had finally let go of him. He didn’t think the bullet was meant for him, or maybe Julio had been sloppy.

The pain was unlike anything Sonny had felt before.

A jarring bang, not just the noise, punching through his thigh like a brick. Agony tore through his muscles like wildfire after that, and he couldn’t stop the scream ripping through his throat.

It felt like it was travelling up his spine, pressing against the back of his eyes. He tried to breathe through the shock of it all, but Sonny’s vision had gone all spotty and his ears had yet to stop ringing. He felt the concrete under him, and the tears hot down his cheeks.

He scrambled against the ground, sucking in wheezy breaths through his own panic, but the pain was too overwhelming and he couldn’t stop screaming.

“Sonny.”

The voice was comforting. Adam dropped to his side, his mask covering his face, but his expression horrified. The man gripped his shoulders, turning him onto his back, and Sonny could do nothing but writhe and scream against his hold.

The blood was gushing from the wound, soaking his pants and pooling along the ground. The mercenary cursed under his breath, repeatedly, unable to stop himself from swearing in front of the kid.

“Sonny, kid, fuck—” He hissed, cradling the boy close to his chest and stripping off his jacket. “Hold on, alright? Can you hear me?”

Sonny sobbed, his hands shaking so uncontrollably they were numb. He could feel himself gasping for breath, heart racing in his ears. Adam’s voice was fuzzy in his ears. Did getting shot always hurt so much?

“Hurts,” he sobbed, his lungs burning. “It hurts.”

“I know,” the mercenary sighed, pressing the bundled up jacket against the wound in an attempt to stop the blood from flowing. Sonny’s eyes snapped open and he jerked, a pained yelp escaping his lips. “That’s good, kid, keep on talking. I’m going to get help.”

Adam would have taken the time to properly strap his thigh and clean the wound himself, but Sonny was just a kid. The poor boy was trembling like a leaf, and a cold, clammy sweat had broken out all across his forehead. Adam tore off his glove and pressed a hand against the skin. He looked a sickly pale.

Sonny whimpered, twitching in pain whenever it would shoot up his leg. The mercenary was afraid the blood loss was going to get to him. Julio hadn’t hit anywhere vital, but Sonny was too young for his body to experiencing this kind of trauma.

He had to cut himself off on the phone when he noticed the kid’s eyes were starting to glaze.

“Sonny,” he snapped, cradling his cheek and patting it firmly. “Stay with me, brat. Don’t fall asleep yet.”

His voice sounded shaken. The woman on the phone was almost shouting, and there was various noises on the other end that indicated she was rushing around.

“Where are you?”

She had a southern twang to her voice, and Adam answered with their location immediately. Sonny let out a weak whine, panting softly as the mercenary cradled him closer, dragging his hand through his damp hair. The sensations roused him from the bluriness encroaching his vision.

He felt sticky and cold. It was hard to concentrate on whatever Adam was saying, but soon he was being moved and something was pressed over his face, pushing him under. Sonny was relishing in the peaceful quiet, until a bright light streamed across his vision, and he cracked open an eye, moaning.

He shifted, finding himself tucked into a clean white bed, his new clothes baggy and his thigh bandaged up. The child felt groggy as he let his gaze drop, noticing the mercenary sat on a chair beside the bed, leaning against the edge. He was fast asleep, his mask discarded.

Sonny winced, before prodding his head harshly.

The man didn’t stir. He wondered just how long he had been out for, and he leaned back against the pillow, letting his eyes close.

The next he awoke, Adam was talking to somebody outside. He knew it was that woman he talked about, the American one, and he leaned over wearily to take a sip from the water on the bedside table. The mercenary must have heard him, because when he was done, he had alread wandered back into the room, sighing.

“Hey, kid,” he sighed. He looked tired. “How are you feeling?”

Sonny blew out a puff of air. “Peachy.”

Adam sat down. “Your leg?”

His memories stirred, and he remembered Julio, and the gun, and the pain. A phantom spark made him twitch, before he grimly nodded his head, and swallowed.

“I guess it’s fine,” he grumbled, shifting it slightly. “Can’t feel much.”

The mercenary nodded. “Well, don’t move around so much. We don’t need you popping the stitches, do we?”

Sonny had never been shot before. He wasn’t quite sure what to feel. He figured he was on a lot of pain killers, and he was grateful for that. After the boy had gone quiet, Adam seemed to stare at him, trying to decipher what the complicated child was thinking about. Sometimes, it was so hard to tell.

“I need to speak with...my friend,” he coughed, nudging the boy’s cheek. “Don’t leave the bed, got it?”

Sonny’s nose wrinkled. “I’m not going to. Go away.”

The mercenary laughed, and strode away. Sonny stared at him for a moment, before he promptly called out his name, a little more panicked than he had anticipated. Adam stopped, startled.

“What’s wrong?”

The kid glanced at the water. “Can you get me some pink milk?”

“Pink...milk?”

“Yes,” Sonny mumbled, his cheeks going red. “Strawberry milk.”

Adam’s eyes flickered with something mischievous, and before Sonny could backpedal, the mercenary was already giggling and waving a hand through the air, something stupid he did that really annoyed the kid.

“Pink milk? Oh, kid. That’s so cute.”

Sonny burned red, trying to find something to launch at his mocking face.

“Get lost and just get me one.”

The mercenary kept on laughing. He couldn’t have been happier that Sonny was okay.

[mistrdctr]

@brooklynislandgirl asked: The compacted snow hits like a brick, bypassing it's target and hitting the man dead in the chest. After a moment the little gremlin that threw it comes running up to him, hands over their mouth, likely stifling laughter. Up close though? It's a particularly small young woman, and the hands hide the horrified 'o' of her mouth. She puts a hand on his arm and blinks up at him, wide green eyes almost too bright, resembling wet grass. "I am so so sorry! I didn't mean t' t'row dat snowball so hard!" [Winter Themed Starters || Accepting]

It's a nice day today - the snow is falling, the air is cold and crisp, absolutely no one is running in circles screaming because the holidays are just around the corner and mankind freaks out about needing to buy gifts, just as there's absolutely no traffic-jam right in front of his Sanctum and the mentioned snow is totally not causing him to slide here and there as Stephen makes his way down along the road.

He's just wanting to get himself a cup of coffee, thank you. Not any coffee, though - he wants a freshly made White Chocolate Mocca Latte with a splash of extra Vanilla syrup. Could he conjure himself said drink and just enjoy it peacefully at home? Yes. Does it taste better from that local coffee-shop around the corner? Absolutely.

Taking a somewhat deep breath, filling his lungs with the stabbing sensation of cold air, the sorcerer pushes his hands into the pockets of his thick, warm jacket; He's out in civil, it will keep him a lot warmer than his wizard-attire would. Besides, he's not working currently, and he enjoys just being---

The snowball hits him death-center, right where his jacket isn't fully closed; Strange yelps at the sudden sensation of 'oh my god this is fucking cold, holy shit' that whips through him like he's struck by lightning, scarred fingers immediately coming up to try and get rid of the snow... it just falls deeper, in between his shirt and jacket, and he curses as he opens it quickly to try and brush the damn coldness away...

He's interrupted by someone approaching him; The person looks like a kid and Stephen sighs, rolls his eyes, fully prepared to have an age-appropriate conversation with it before said person comes closer, upon which he realizes that it's, in fact, not a kid... but a young woman instead.

She apologizes profusely, her green eyes almost piercing him as her hand touches his arm; Strange clears his throat, pulls the zipper back up before offering her a smile, seeing how genuinely shocked she seems to be about what has just happened.

"No, no, it's okay.", he says, shivering a moment later as the damn cold is now soaking into his sweater, "---Have to say, though, that snowball had some speed to it. I'm impressed." Did she throw said snowball? She must be stronger than she looks like, defnitely. ... "Just, uh, be a bit more careful next time, alright?"

[kaitlyngreatlyn]

"Sounds Like a You Problem."

Day 9: “Sounds like a you problem."

Fandom: Justice League the Animated Series

(Yes, I will keep posting even though October is over, I am a procrastinator, but also a completionist. It's a curse)

Bruce Wayne and Wally West face an obstacle known as Dick Grayson.

“Do you have any plans for tonight?” 

The question clearly surprised the speedster in front of him. Flash rubbed the back of his neck nervously, reddened cheeks under his mask, “I’m going to a party actually.”

A smirk tugged at the Dark Knight’s lips, “Taking advantage of not being on shift?”

Flash nodded, “Of course, how about you? Do you have any fun plans?”

“That’s confidential.” Batman said in a teasing tone, turning around leaving the Flash befuddled behind him.

The first time Batman had run into the Flash outside of his costume had been completely coincidental, but tonight would be different. He transported down to his cave and pulled off his mask, he had to get ready for tonight.

He changed into his finest and best fitted formal suit, walking to his study where Alfred was standing, “Are you ready, Master Bruce?”

“Of course,” Bruce walked over to Alfred, the butler tying his tie, and handing over papers.

Bruce looked over the guest list to his gala,

Wallace West

“Do you want me to schedule a car?”

“No need, I’ll be there until late.”

“Not too late, I hope.” 

Bruce turned to see his oldest ward standing in the doorway, “What are you doing here Dick?”

The young adult was adjusting the cuffs of his suit, “Your secretary sent me an invite to the Wayne Gala.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow, “You’ve never wanted to come to them before.”

“I can’t spend time with my beloved mentor? Or one of the many brothers you adopt? Or…” He trailed off, “My best friend you invited to the gala?”

“You saw the guest list?”

Dick laughed, “You think Wally didn’t tell me he’d be in Gotham? I helped him buy a suit, he really cleans up well. I just want to know what you have to gain from flirting with my friend.”

Bruce stiffened up, “It’s not flirting.”

“The roses? Protecting him from his own criminals? Visiting his work outside of costume? Doesn’t sound like flirting to you?” Dick asked, “He’s not just some guy at a Gala, he’s the Flash, your coworker, your friend, don’t forget that.”

Bruce sighed, knowing that Dick wasn’t lying, “I have to get going, are you joining us?”

Dick shrugged, “I’ll go on my own. Maybe look for a redhead to chat up.” 

“Remember he can’t know who you are.” Bruce narrowed his eyes.

"Sounds like a you problem." Dick teased, "Either you man up or I will." 

- - -

Wally shakily held a glass of water in his hand, sitting down at one of the many tables in this vast Gala space. This was his second Gotham Gala, but this one was even more stressful, he had been personally invited by Bruce Wayne. He was absolutely starving, but he didn’t want to mess up his suit before he even saw the host of the party. He had briefly seen Bruce Wayne with his wards as they entered to the crowd’s applause, but since then he’d been swept up in conversation with people much more important than Wally. 

Wally ran a hand through his gelled up hair, he hoped he didn’t look ridiculous. The suit was a well fitted dark navy three piece suit, a black tie, and shoes that weren’t falling apart. He felt ridiculous. Nightwing had helped him however, so he hoped his best friend wouldn’t betray him. 

“Is this seat taken?” Wally perked up at the flirtatious familiar tone, but turned and saw someone he didn’t recognize. A tan young man with slicked back black hair and a very well fitted navy suit. He looked like some haughty rich kid, but he had a brilliant smile and gentle blue eyes. He also carried two plates full of food that had Wally’s mouth salivating.

“No, please, take a seat.” Wally said.

He smiled and pushed a plate over to Wally, “You looked hungry.”

Wally looked down at the plate that seemed to have all his favorites, Wally didn’t care about the mysterious man or the suit as soon as his mouth opened to inhale the food. He only stopped mid-bite when he heard laughter, he turned to see the man laughing as Wally had a piece of shrimp hanging from his mouth, “Sorry, I’m not laughing at you. You’re just making this difficult.” 

“I just have a big appetite.” Wally flushed red, swallowing the mouthful, “And what am I making difficult?”

The man leaned forward with a familiar smirk, “You’re making it difficult to flirt with you.”

Wally felt like his face was as bright as his hair, “U-Um, what’s your name?”

“I don’t know if that’s super important right now.” The man winked and then his eyes widened like he saw something behind Wally, “Why don’t we dance?”

Before Wally could object or see what the man was staring at, he was being swept onto the dance floor. A slow romantic song was playing. Wally’s waist and hand were being held, he had barely a moment to realize he was being led into the middle of the dance floor, “Hey!” Wally said in realization.

“A little slow, are you?” The man asked like he was making a joke.

Wally pouted, “Just who are you?”

The man pulled Wally in close, “A friend.”

Wally was swung out in a spin and crashed into a very broad chest, he looked up to see he was captured by another dance partner, but this was someone he knew, “Bruce!”

“Mind if I step in?” The older man asked, taking Wally’s hand, directing a glare at the man Wally was just dancing with.

“Fine, I had my fun,” The man sighed, raising his hands, he directed a wink at Wally, “Come find me, later, Wally for some real fun.”

Wally wanted to ask how he knew his name, but the mysterious man was gone. Was that just a Gotham thing?

He looked up at Bruce who still looked a bit annoyed, his eyebrows furrowed, “Dick.”

Wally put a hand to his chest feeling hurt, “Oh-”

“Not you.” Bruce reassured him, pulling Wally into the dance, “Was my ward bothering you?”

Ward? He didn't realize Bruce had such an old ward. Did he just dance with the man’s son? That felt very out of order to meet the kids before they were even dating.

“No, no. He just brought me some food and kept me company while I waited for someone.” Wally teased.

“Just know I was only so busy because my wards decided to team up against me.” Bruce groaned before tightening his grip on Wally’s waist, “I would never keep someone so handsome waiting.”

“Good, cause I won’t wait around forever.” Wally said. 

Bruce’s hands tensed, but he smiled, “I hope I can keep your interest.”

The song ended, but Bruce still had a hand on Wally’s waist, “The suit fits you very well.”

“Well, I got invited by thee Bruce Wayne, I had to dress the part.”

“You did fantastic,” Bruce moved his hand up to Wally’s shoulder, “Why don’t we get some drinks?”

Wally nodded and Bruce led them to the bar where he ordered some fancy sounding wine that made Wally’s nose shrivel up, wine… He was never much of a wine drinker, he wasn’t really much of a drinker anyways, but who was he to turn down some fancy smancy drink he’ll probably never get the opportunity to drink again?

Bruce Wayne could definitely keep his interest, but could he keep Bruce’s? He seriously doubted it.

A glass of red wine was brought to his hand, “Try it.”

Wally nodded, trying to spin the glass like he’d seen in movies, only for Bruce to laugh, “You can just drink it.”

“Sorry,” Wally laughed, awkwardly, taking a sip (hoping the disgust wasn’t evident on his face), “I don’t drink much wine, alcohol doesn’t really affect me.”

Curse his speed from keeping him from any boy’s nights ending in drunken mistakes. Flirting with a billionaire would be so much easier. 

“Maybe next time we could come to my place, I have stuff that can get anyone drunk.” He said it with so much confidence that Wally didn’t want to correct him, “Why don’t we take this outside?”  

“Sure, we might as well before another villain comes in to ruin our fun.” Wally said letting Bruce lead him to the balcony. The view was spectacular, he could swear he saw all of Gotham from up here.

“Just the good parts.” Wally turned, wondering if he spoke out loud, but Bruce continued, “Gotham’s beautiful side, the money, the showmanship, all of it covers up the darkness that lies underneath this city.” He took a swig of wine with a bitter look in his eye. 

Wally knew a bit about Bruce Wayne, his family’s death and his playboy nature, but he also knew of his philanthropy, the way he adopts kids just like him. Wally took his own sip of wine, “Then why do you bother at all? Every place is the same, but you still bother, so you must see some of the light.”

Bruce sighed, looking up at the sky where a Bat signal suddenly lit up against the clouds, “I guess I do.” 

He felt reminded of his position and he looked at Wally who was staring at the same Bat signal with a smile on his lips, Bruce tugged Wally close, “I don’t know how many times we will see each other after this, but I want to savor this moment.”

Bruce leaned down, lifting Wally’s chin up and pressing his lips to his.

Wally leaned into it, his eyes fluttering shut, grabbing Bruce’s lapels to keep himself up. Bruce’s lips were slightly chapped against Wally’s, he could taste the wine and he was sure Bruce could taste some of the food on his lips, he could hear the talking and classical music from inside, but he didn’t care as they kissed against a star filled night - it was magical. 

Bruce was the first to pull away, but before he completely pulled away he kissed Wally’s cheek and whispered in Wally’s ear, “I have to go.”

Wally put a hand to his cheek feeling dazed, “Will you be back?”

He opened his eyes and Bruce was gone. He sighed, taking another sip of wine. 

Bruce walked away from the balcony, Dick was standing there with his arms crossed, “So you made up your mind?”

“I have to go.”

“He’ll be heartbroken if he ever knows who you are, Bruce.”

Bruce turned, “I’ll be back before the gala ends.”

Dick watched him leave, he looked out at the redhead still standing by the balcony with a miserable look on his face. Bruce didn’t come back nearing the end of the gala and Wally drowned his misery in plates of all different foods, not caring for the pristine of his suit.

“Is this seat taken?” Wally turned around, ready to tell off the flirty son of the man he kissed, but instead he saw someone he knew.

“Night?” Wally jumped to his feet in surprise.

The man was wearing a dark navy suit, no tie, his hair was messed up and his signature glasses were on. He looked less formal than most of the people around them, “Hey Speedy.”

“Don’t call me that.” Wally said, pulling the younger man into a hug, “What are you doing here?”

“Well I wanted to see my best friend shooting his shot, but I guess food was always your true soulmate.” Nightwing laughed. 

Wally collapsed back down in his chair, sighing heavily, “Don't get me started on Mr Tall Dark and Handsome, guy ditched me after kissing me.”

“I did warn you, didn’t I? That playboy, Bruce Wayne, doesn't do relationships.”

Wally sighed, pushing a meatball around with a fork, “You did warn me.”

“Better to know now, then if you ever got in a relationship with him.”

Wally’s face fell further, he ran his hand through his hair messing up the gelled hair, “I guess so.”

Nightwing noticed the sadness and punched his friend’s shoulder, “Come on Wall, why don’t we fight some crime like the good ol’ days?”

“Bats won’t be mad?” Wally asked, tapping the table nervously.

“Trust me,” Nightwing said with a knowing sparkle in his eye, “I don’t think he’ll cause us any problems tonight.”

[sl-newsie]

Spelled (Carlos de Vil x Sanderson Daughter) Descendants 2- Ch. 9: Sins of the Mother

Jay drives the limo behind some hedges and we all scramble out. “Ok, we gotta make it back to Mal and Evie by daylight. Let’s go!”

When we sneak through the front door it’s dead quiet, meaning we might be able to go unnoticed. But I still slip my invisible cloak on for good measure. Once we make it to the second floor we are greeted by an excited Dude.

“Hi! Sorry I’m so late, Dude. Ben got captured-”

“Why’s your door open?” Jay asks anxiously.

Uh-oh. We walk into the doorway to find Chad standing in front of the printer.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Carlos huffs.

Chad whips around and notices us. “I knocked?” He shrugs as he hands Carlos another copy of the room key. I also notice he’s clutching a tiny figurine- without a head.

“What in the name of Auradon is that?” I say in a disgusted tone.

He holds it up proudly. “Chad action figure! Minus the head.”

“Sounds like an improvement. Excuse me!” Carlos pushes him aside and gets right to printing the wand.

“Why are you guys making Fairy Godmother’s wand?” Chad asks from behind.

We all tense up and share frantic looks. Um… lies, lies, lies- what to tell-?

“Why are we making Fairy Godmother’s wand?” Carlos asks Jay.

Jay tried to answer. “Because, um…”

“Ben’s been captured!” Dude speaks up from his bed.

Chad’s jaw drops. “What? Dude can talk?”

“I was stalling!” Carlos hisses at the small mutt.

“I thought you forgot!”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Lonnie in the hallway taking a sneak peek at our discussion. Great, guys. Let’s just let all of Auradon know what we’re doing!

“Don’t tell anyone,” Jay warns Chad. “Ben’s life depends on it.”

Suddenly Chad gets an evil look in his eyes. “Really? So, like, if something were to happen… You know… Who’d you think would be in line to be king?”

I gawk at his arrogance. “How dare you. How dare you! How dare you mock Ben with your hopes of death! Be gracious I do not make your head replicate the one on your action figure!”

Chad takes a minute to let my threat sink in. “But, there’s no head…?”

“Exactly!” I snap.

He shutters and winces away from me with fear-struck eyes. “Stay away from me, freak!” He gives Carlos and Jay a stern frown. “I’m keeping this!” He storms out into the hall. “And if you think I-!”

Jay slams the door shut in Chad’s face.

“Thank you!” I slap a hand over my face. “If I hear one word out of him I’m going to hex his hair to pink!”

“Do it,” Jay says immediately. “He’d look better anyway.”

“O-K! On with the wand…” Carlos finishes punching in the wand blueprints and the printer whirls to life. “Should take maybe an hour or so. I’m gonna rest my eyes a bit.”

“Me too.” Jay joins Carlos on the couch.

“You’re just going to fall asleep,” I warn. “I think I’m going to walk around a bit to keep awake.”

Already the boys are starting to doze off. “Stay safe…”

So much for chatting. I guess no one missed me after all. 

Taking my que to leave, slip out onto the balcony, and hold my hand out to summon a broom.

“Fly!” In an instant I’m levitated into the cool night air and fly off towards the museum of Cultural History. Time for some recollections. Same as last spring the museum is ridiculously easy to sneak into, and when I ascend the stairs and find the Sanderson Sisters exhibit I feel a chill go down my spine.

“Alright, Aunt Winnie. What should I be ashamed of…?” I start scanning the plaque.

In 1693, the Sanderson sisters drained the life force of Emily Binx and used it to brew a Life Potion to keep them young. In a failed attempt to save Emilys life, her brother Thackery Binx was cursed into black cat who must live forever. Before the sisters were hanged, they cast a curse saying that if a virgin should light the Black Flame Candle on All Hallow’s Eve with a full moon, the sisters would return for revenge.

I swallow hard. Yes I’d heard bits and pieces of mother’s backstory and the coven’s crimes, but never had I known how dark it was. No wonder people are afraid of them, of me. Black magic is nothing to be toyed with.

I read on.

300 years later in 1993, Max and Dani Dennison visited the Sanderson cottage with their guide Allison. Max lit the Black Flame Candle and allowed the Sanderson coven to reenter the world of the living. By teaming up with Binx, the group was able to stop the witches from almost succeeding in brewing another potion using the lives of Salem’s children. When the morning sun rose, the evil witches turned to dust and the spell over Thackery was supposedly broken.

Supposedly. I wonder what they’d think if they found out their history was wrong.

The witches went into hiding, and there was no word of their existence until the recent scheme of Sarah Sanderson sixteen years ago. The siren witch seduced the Evil Queen’s Huntsman and distracted him so she could steal a life elixir. Legend says that before she was banished to the Isle, Sarah Sanderson hid her most powerful possession somewhere in Auradon, awaiting for its owner to return and wreak havoc on unsuspecting victims.

“Getting a history lesson?” A voice behind me asks.

I don’t stir. “Binx… I’m so sorry.”

“For what?”

“For everything they did to you.” I slowly turn my head to look at the black cat with teary eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He lowers his head. “You were so young, so innocent. Your father made me swear I’d never show you just how evil your aunt really is. You don’t deserve this, to think-”

“What?” I ask sternly. “That I’m the daughter of a siren and the niece of a murderous satanist? God Binx, it’s no wonder people want me locked up! If they think I’m just like them, that I could do something like that…” Uma’s vision. 

“Magica, listen to me,” Binx says in a stern voice as he hops up on the table next to me. “You are nothing like your mom or your aunt. You are so much better! You’re kind, sweet, and put everyone before yourself, even if some people are too blind to see it.”

Deep down I know he’s right, but there’s still a part of me that fears the growing darkness I’ve been pushing down inside me.”

I avoid his gaze and look up at another sign on the wall.

Some tips for fighting witches:

Witches cannot set foot on hollow ground

A circle of salt can protect from witches’ spells

Never listen to a witch’s siren spell 

Good to know if I ever get in a pinch. Another exhibit I notice is an emerald green brooch glowing behind a glass case.

“What’s that?” I point at the malicious-looking jewelry.

“Oh. That’s Winifred’s magic brooch. Legend says she stored her most powerful magic within it just in case she were to ever lose her powers.

“I see…” Better remember that just in case. “Well I better get back to the boys. Are you staying here?”

“That depends. Are you planning on coming back?”

Ugh. I knew he was gonna ask that!

“You know I can’t stay, Binx. After comparing how people treat me here to how I’m treated on the Isle is a no-brainer. But you cannot come with me! If Aunt Winnie catches you again she’ll skin you alive!”

The thought makes Bix shutter and I can tell he doesn’t share my enthusiasm for returning.

“If that is what will make you happy, I can only wish you best of luck.” Binx paws at my sleeve. “I will remain here in Auradon to speak on your behalf.”

I smile warmly at his acceptance. “Thank you, old friend.”

When I get back to Carlos’ room, both he and Jay are passed out on the couch.

“Um. guys?” I snap my fingers and they spring to life.

“I’m awake!” Jay gasps.

Carlos goes to examine the finished wand, which is almost an identical copy.

“Impressive,” I say with a nod.

“Let’s go!”

“What about me?” Dude calls from the bed.

Carlos turns back and says in a firm voice: “I want you to stay, Dude. I mean it! Stay! I’ll be back later. I love you, buddy!”

Dude grumbles but complies, giving me a hopeful look.

“Don’t look at me. You heard him. Stay.”

I follow the boys and we’re almost out the door when-

“Oh, hey. Have you seen Evie?”

Uh-oh. It’s Doug!

As much as I don’t want to lie, we can’t risk getting more people involved with this delicate situation.

“Uuh…she went camping!” Carlos tries to fib.

Doug doesn’t buy it. “Evie ‘I wanna live in a castle?’ Sleeping on the ground with no place to plug in a hairdryer?”

“You know how spontaneous she is,” Jay waves it off.

“Later, Doug!” 

We go to turn back towards the car-

But then Lonnie pops up carrying swords.

“I’m coming with you guys,” she says confidently.

“Uuhh. what? We don’t need swords at the… waffle hut.” Real smooth, Carlos.

“You’re going to the Isle to rescue Ben. So you either take me, or… I tell Fairy Godmother.”

Oh. She’s got us there. We all exchange troubled looks. I’m trying to think of a solution that doesn’t involve magic, but nothing comes. Guess she’s in.

Lonnie takes our silence as a ‘yes’ and squeals.

“Let’s go!”

We get back to the limo and all pile in, and I take one last moment to wave goodbye to Binx.

“I don’t know when I’ll- if I’ll see you again,” I call in an uneven voice.

“Let’s just keep it at when and hope for the best!” The black cat shouts over the noise of the engine as we start driving away.

“Goodbye, Thackery! I will never forget the kindness thou hast shown me!"

[annoyed-galaxy]

Been dealing with a lot of shit recently in terms of relationships. So I wrote something about it in a way. World building in a way as well. I haven't posted a lot of non-fanfic writing before so this is new. As a forewarning, I didn't proofread it cause I kinda don't proofread shit like this. It was just a vent writing. Anyways, enjoy.

The old elven scholar adjusted his glasses as he turned to the crowd of young students and began another speech. To one girl, his words never reached her ears; she kept looking at the mural behind the man, at the small painting that depicted a ruined temple and a beautiful woman underneath it.

“Excuse me, sir?” the girl piped up, interrupting the elf in his speech.

He looked at her with an irate glare. “Yes?” he asked with annoyance in his voice.

“What is that?” she asked, pointing to the image.

The elf’s face seemed to soften as he looked in the direction of her finger and saw the mural. His ears lowered and flattened against the side of his head. “That is the Goddess of Love.”

“Why is she depicted like that?”

The old elf let out a sigh. “That, my dear, is a long story. A history many regret.”

The students were now curious and all their attention focused on the ruined image.

The elven scholar realized these kids would not be interested in hearing anything else, so he crossed his hands in front of him and spoke in a clear voice.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

A long time ago, there was a goddess. She was beautiful and graceful and everyone around her shone bright. She blessed people with the gift of love. Love ran rampant throughout the land; marriages were abundant, soulmates were united everywhere, there was no such thing as hate. Everyone had the goddess to thank for she was the one who spread this beautiful feeling around.

Many prayed to the goddess for a happy life with the person they loved; many would go to her with offerings hoping she would bless their marriages with prosperity. And she did so. She did so because she loved everyone. She wanted happiness to spread throughout the world. It was all she wanted. She gave all of herself to the people around her, gave them all her love.

However, she began to feel lonely and a little jealous. No one loved her the way they loved each other. Soon, her heart began to fall for someone. She waited weeks and weeks before she confessed her love to them, but they denied her feelings. They professed that they could not see her as a lover for she was a goddess. Her heart cracked, but she understood.

Lonely once again, the goddess found her heart yearning for another. She was afraid that she would receive the same response, but this person seemed to love her as more than a goddess. She finally confessed her feelings to them, but once again, they regretted to say they could only see her as a goddess and therefore unworthy of her love. This caused the goddess’s heart to fracture once more.

A third time she found her heart aching for another, but she refused to move on these feelings, knowing that she would only be hurt once more. But, it seemed hopeful for the one she craved seemed to love her back, but she was wary. A wariness that caused her heart to shatter.

A close disciple of hers, someone who had worshiped and respected her for a long time, fell in love with her lover. She thought her lover would never choose her disciple for they were not their preferred type. But alas, somehow the two fell in love. When they came to her for their blessing, the goddess tearfully gave them her blessing.

But to see her lover and closest disciple, someone she thought could be a friend, utterly betray her and smile at each other shattered her broken heart. She yelled and cursed at them, forsook their blessing and damned them. She yelled unto the heavens and around the earth as to why no one could love her. Why was she the Goddess of Love, but she could not experience her own love? Her tears fell upon the marble of her temple and the floor cracked. The building shook and everyone fled, including the two lovers who betrayed her.

Her temple fell upon itself and fell on her, sealing her away forever. A mountain grew where her temple once stood, encasing the ruined temple and fallen goddess. The traitorous lovers spent the rest of their lives begging for forgiveness, trying to find their goddess, but all was futile.

No one knows where the goddess has gone, whether she died in her grief, or whether she fled our world. All that is known is that without her, love has vanished from the realm. War has broken out all across the land; relationships and marriages are always failing; soulmates rarely find each other. Love that was once abundant is now rare to come across. Some of the goddess’s disciples pledged themselves to only loving her, hoping their love would bring her back. But rumours say that the only way to bring her back is for someone to fall in love with her without knowing who she is.

To fall in love with the Goddess of Love without knowing she is the Goddess of Love. But for such a task to happen is nigh impossible, for everyone knows her story. Any love shown towards her is out of sympathy or a dark desire to fix the world. To love the Goddess of Love is to show no genuine love. Some say the goddess did die and has been reincarnated as a regular person, but whether that is true or not cannot be confirmed or denied.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

The elf finished his tale and there was sadness in his eyes. “Many people wish to see the goddess return to this world, but it’s almost impossible. No one can love her without knowing who she is and that love will never be genuine.”

“Why did no one love her for who she was?” the little girl asked.

The old man shrugged his shoulders. “They could only see her as a goddess. They could only see her as the source of all love and happiness. No one could love her normally.”

“That’s sad,” the little girl whimpered, wiping a tear from her eyes. “Why did no one love her?”

“They did. But just not in the way she wanted. They could not love her like they loved each other. And when she thought she finally had that, it was snatched away from her. It broke her heart. She couldn’t stand it anymore.”

Silence filled the room as everyone bowed their heads.

A moment passed and the elf cleared his throat. “I think we can call this tour short for the day. Allow everyone a moment to recover from this tragic tale.”

As the students were ushered away, the little girl looked back at the painting, the ruined temple, the beautiful woman, the mountain surrounding it all and she wept.

She wished that one day, the goddess would find true love. Just for the spirit of love, not to save the world. She just wanted her to be happy.

To be loved.

[jeromefart]

I should drop all my link hcs because I have so many

Twilight

-the wolf curse was removed from him but it left a lot of physical and instinctual changes to him, he would describe himself as being 50/50 wolf and hylian

-the curse mark is on his forehead, cheeks, and stomach

-he has fangs and his nails grow long, he prefers to keep them sharp because it’s sometimes helpful and helps him curb scratching urges easier

-speaking of urges, he has a lot. He likes to stimulate his senses a lot, like how dogs like to fetch and dig, or how cats like to scratch and hunt. He’ll get into instinctual modes where he’s more quiet and physically needy, just like when dogs have gone a while without attention and beg you for pets

-he shows affection thru kisses licks and bites, he sometimes gets into playful modes where he’s sniffing a lot and he tends to always give kisses with tongue, a wolf/human hybrid that’s halfway between a kiss and a lick that’s not too animalistic but curbs the urge to care for and groom people

-he lovesss biting and chewing, even if it’s just gentle nips and nibbles. It calms him and eases him when he’s feeling upset about things

-caught between either being dominant and extra caring or submissive and compliant, does this make him a beta idk abo things

-his senses are very strong, hearing and smell specifically. One fun thing is that he smells arousal, so if somebody is bricked up, he will know who. And half of the time smelling it puts him in the mood too. What a disaster. Jk. He gets to have sex with everyone! Yay!

-looks up to Time a LOT. He bonded with his spirit and learned so many things from him, he was the only real connection he had to the past hero he’s taking the place of. And while he’s mocked by others for wearing the tunic, he himself is praising him and urging him to move onward. So meeting a young adult version of the same guy, who’s equally smart and attractive as the one he idolized. It makes him go. Insane.

-back to praise, yes he loves to hear that he is a good boy, but he gets flustered and embarrassed too. He just likes to be appreciated and loved as affectionately as he often feels

Time

-Physically, around 23 but including time shenanigans, he’s closer to 25

-He’s forced to grow up way too fast so he can be harsh and brash, but he’s also still a kid at heart and loves to be mischievous and playful

-coped very badly with Termina, even inside of it, using the looping time to mess around with no consequences. He would drink until Tatl had to drop things on his face so he’d wake up and play the song of time before the moon fell. He’d also sleep around with no consequences because they wouldn’t remember it

-more on that in Termina he was more like 13, some time passed and he moved out of kokiri forest but life wasn’t the same without Navi so that’s why he went to look for her

-anyway he was incredibly young to be sleeping around and it’s awful. He mainly went after kafei and would go “I was transformed into a kid too, it’s fine” 🙁

-he stayed kafeis sneaky link years later and eventually kafei broke down in guilt in front of him for taking advantage of a kid while being married and link was like “maybe I shouldn’t do this anymore”

-so after that he stopped partying and sleeping around and tried to settle down and find peace, that was around 22. But as an adventurer he could never stop craving excitement and went out into the forest again looking for trouble, and that’s when he falls into twilight’s world.

-scar on his eye from the fight with Majora, it broke the fierce deity mask in half and he almost dieddd

-also broke his back once in termina and it never healed right, I’ve adopted this hc as my own hehehe

-has a few scars that didn’t heal right and are too tight, they stretch and get irritated and inflamed, there’s one on his ribs thats especially bad he got in his fight w ganondorf

-loves to fish. Goes so insane for fishing

-considered pursuing malon but didn’t want to drag her into his turbulent life bc he knew it would only cause pain for others. Didn’t think it was possible to settle down

-very confident in his abilities and brags and is quite teasing, very playful because he’s a kid at heart, but often gets deathly serious and contemplates heavy things

-ends up being content with leaving his hometown in the past behind. He’s had enough time travel shenanigans to really not care where he’s at. He just wants to live in the moment and cherish his relationship with the man he feels so connected to