#because he *begins* by offering his sympathy and understanding...but follows it up with 'but if i am more valuable to you in this way

[ride-a-dromedary]

Alright, the jack in the box is wound, and the coherence is coming to me. Halsin and the dryad, I was talking about his response if the PC indicates that he is most comfortable after a supper large enough to induce hibernation:

"Mindless gorging...? No, that is not right. I did not realize you thought that of me."

And why this keeps catching in my mind is not necessarily what he says, but how he says it (so I am commending Dave Jones' voice acting here). The rest of Halsin's responses to incorrect answers are generally even toned and corrective; firm, usually, but not inherently overly emotional. Much like a teacher correcting a student. But this one...he sounds genuinely surprised and taken aback that the PC would even suggest that. The "no, that is not right" is even firmer on its heels. And the last part...the last part, his voice is smaller. Less forward. I would not go so far as to suggest hurt, but it is approaching that territory. It comes so fast after his firm no, that it almost sounds like something that slipped by accident. Like something that was meant to be muttered under the breath, but it slipped from him because the surprise was so organic.

Alone, it doesn't mean too much. It's a slight offense to an obviously nonfactual statement. And that's likely all it is. I'm about to read too deep into this, I am aware.

But combined with the other things spread throughout Halsin's dialogue, particularly the implication that he is otherwise used to people making commentary on his physical appearance or the physicality of his being, it suggests an extra layer of hurt. An extra layer of: "I did not expect this from you, of all people." Not quite a betrayal, but approaching one.

What makes it particularly catching, is that one of the things you are able to wrench (and I say wrench because getting Halsin to share mundane personal details about himself is a production - and it makes *sense* it's a production if a. We keep in mind that Halsin himself doesn't seem all too sure who he is beyond his preoccupation - which elves are prone to but Halsin also just has...a lot on his plate that have evidently stunted his identity formation - to the point where he even claims he was forgetting who he was, and b. If he is used to questions concerning himself and his experience leading into questions regarding his sex life or his physical activities, see: the companion banter with Wyll and Karlach, he likely...doesn't really keep ready details about himself personally on tap anymore. He's so unused to people being interested in Halsin, that he's taken aback when they are. It becomes the "In the moment, I forget everything and anything I like to do for fun" mentality - no one really cares about what I like to do anyway - if you will. He even goes so far as to joking that the PC may be a doppelganger because *why else would they want to know these things*) out of Halsin when you ask him about himself is that he has a sweet tooth. That he likes honey, and people find that amusing. He chuckles, but his face falls, evidently prepping for the PC to make a similar comment (and he attempts to beat you to the joke about that, though a PC can still call that "on the nose" to which he responds that there is little point in denying oneself if it doesn't hurt anybody - indulging isn't a bad thing). If the PC instead chooses that he should pay little attention to what others think, he gives that infamous: "sometimes I think people look at me and imagine my feelings can't be hurt" line. Which implies - regardless of whether he verbalizes it or not - things in this thread hurt his feelings. Comments or assumptions about his body and his person hurt his feelings. He won't say it, but they do. The PC is likely aware of this by this point in the relationship.

Halsin does not otherwise bring up eating or food to any level of significance or directness - the sweet tooth comment was the only time (you could assume outside of canon interactions that they've had other conversations between them and that perhaps this was brought up, but we are going to base this solely in what Halsin reveals in canon). He brings up hibernation, but specifically the sleeping part of it. Nothing else.

So, the PC then potentially goes ahead and makes an assumption of him during the dryad. How'd they arrive at this conclusion, as it obviously surprises Halsin that they did? It reads, very much, that the PC is making this assumption based on the comment about his sweet tooth, his comment on indulgence, and his physicality (note: the ha ha bear and hibernation thing almost seems like an afterthought - Halsin latches *very* quickly onto the "mindless gorging" part). All things that he has shown very evident discomfort (which is ironic because the question is when he feels most comfortable) or hesitance towards (he claims there is nothing wrong with indulgence, but never seems to indulge himself beyond sex, if that. Gee, what does that remind you of?)

Halsin entrusted this individual with this information, as frivolous as it was, potentially revealed that it hurts his feelings when people make assumptions of him, and this individual then went used that information and made the assuming connection: "So, this is a big man. He said he liked sugar, so he must like to eat and indulge. It must be his favourite thing to do because look at him." I am going to essentially ignore everything else I could have possibly heard, and make a bear hibernation joke that has nothing to do with sleeping being a comfort, but emphasize the eating part.

So, yeah, he's a little taken aback - incredulous, you might say. A little hurt. Resigned, almost. Because at that point, you can make a very logical assumption that Halsin came to a very quick snap realization that perhaps this person was not so different from the others as he thought. That it always eventually comes back to that. What else was he expecting? When has it ever been any different for him?

#BG3 Musing #Halsin Posting #does this make sense i don't think it does but it's like...jumping from a - z based on assumption and you know what they say about that #note: this isn't actually this deep i am just making it this deep - also yes i'm aware it probably means none of this #i have a degree in bullshit #but this is also why halsin should have had a legitimate bear like build of a body #i understand why he didn't - but this is *verbatim* what fat individuals receive as assumptions on their person #*all the time* that oh you must overindulge yourself you must eat a lot you must you MUST #and in that thread of thought of halsin's relationship with his body #there's also something to say when halsin says 'my ears are all yours...any part of me is yours should you wish it' #because he *begins* by offering his sympathy and understanding...but follows it up with 'but if i am more valuable to you in this way #then that's fine too - i'm used to that' #almost parallels (inadvertently) astarion's: #'i think i'll enjoy having halsin around not for his wit or wisdom he'll just make an excellent shield if we're attacked' #he's self aware #and in regards to how halsin sees his body as a separate entity - a. body dysmorphia and b. i don't think he truly does #halsin claims he sees his body as a vessel to serve nature and wrinkles his nose at vanity - but i feel there is enough old hurt in him #that this can never be true of him even is he so desperately wishes it was #does he have a level of confidence in himself? obviously he does - but it is marred - it's an exchange #there's always going to be that little voice in the back

[lelengerine]

helloo!!! I am so glad you are back again,really missed seeing you on my dash:(

also,from your mini drabble list, the arranged marriage au really caught my eye! can you please write it with jeno as the main protagonist? I don't have anything specific in mind except that I am obsessed with the opposites attract kinda trope but you can write it anyway you want! thank you in advance <3

love, lee

pairing | prince!jeno x princess!reader

genre | royalty + arranged marriage au, jeno uses a nickname for reader (love), no pronouns are specifically used for this, lmk if there’s any i missed!

wc | 0.9k

notes | i think my love for royalty aus are really stating to show now TT this is my first jeno work and there were actually multiple entries for jeno with the arranged marriage trope so i hope this suffices for now (maybe i’ll make a part two or follow another req if i can !!) it’s not exactly the same as what anon mentioned because i tried to condense the ideas to the size of a drabble as much as possible but i love all ur brains so much LIKE TELL ME MORE 😭😭 anw likes, rbs, and feedbacks are very appreciated ;0;

this is part of my drabble req event here!

m.list

there’s this prophecy that landed upon your kingdom just as its walls were newly established, one that spoke of prosperity if two individuals coming from royal backgrounds were to be wed under every full moon.

of course, that hasn’t come true (and you don’t believe it ever will), but both the civilians and the royal family hold onto that sliver of hope ever so dearly. though, in the position of being someone forced into the position of marriage, you can’t help but view the tradition as something simply bizarre and unnecessary.

moreover, you haven't a clue who you are about to marry. the thought irritates you to the core, and your mother’s repetitive words on how this was ‘something she experienced too’ not making you feel any better — in fact, it was dampening your already sour mood even further.

just why hadn’t this been dropped centuries ago? the answer to that question doesn’t seem to be keen on revealing itself to you.

and so here you are, behind tall wooden doors in a dress you struggle to move in — much less breathe in — that will soon reveal a banquet hall filled with your and your groom’s relatives, a plethora of aristocrats that you couldn’t even dare to name no matter how long you stared at them, and reporters who were ready to swarm you with questions whenever they’d get the chance.

“there’s no need to fear, my dear.” your mother states by your side, and a scoff is the first response she receives.

“i hope you understand that what you’ve said lacks any sensitivity for my situation.” you bitterly reply with a blank expression, not even turning to face her once. with that, she decides to keep silent, not wanting to aggravate you any longer.

the doors open, finally placing you on display for everyone to see, and the first person your eyes search for is your husband-to-be.

he stands in front of the beautifully decorated altar in a navy blue suit and fur coat that looks just as uncomfortable as the white gown you’re wearing, and you start to feel a little sympathy for him knowing he probably didn’t have any plans of marrying you either.

you were both victims in this grand scheme, after all.

a step, two steps, and before you know it, you’re meeting his gaze for the first time. he offers a soft smile that puffs up his cheeks ever so slightly, pupils shining beneath the lights that brighten up the entire hall, and for a moment, you forget how much you’ve detested this day to come.

‘get a grip, it’s definitely for show’, you mentally tell yourself as your lips return the kind gesture.

the ceremony soon starts, and the words spoken by the priest pass through your ears like static fuzz, not paying attention to the prophecy that was being retold to the audience.

“i assume you were forced into this?” you begin in a whisper, wanting only the person beside you to hear your voice.

you turn to gaze at him and he looks a little surprised you actually started a conversation. “sure.”

sure? what kind of response was that? the least he could do was respond with a decisive yes or no to not leave you hanging like this. perhaps that smile from earlier really was to fool the reporters on a loveless marriage

“could you at least tell me your name?” you try to reach out once more, “it’s laughable as is to know we are in the middle of being wed and i have not a single clue on who you are.”

“lee, jeno.” he responds, and though it technically is an answer to your question, you’re oddly left unsatisfied at how perfunctory it was. “yours?”

“l/n, y/n.” you state in the same manner as if you wanted him to feel the same as you did just moments prior. “how does it feel to get married to a stranger? because i surely find this unsettling.”

you tried to play into humor, hoping to get a better reaction out of him, but what he says shocks you instead. “we aren’t strangers though.”

“what-” you start to sputter, however the priest cuts you off at the mention of announcing your respective vows.

“i’m sure you’ll recall it soon enough.” jeno’s expression finally shifts from his icy facade to a sly smirk that perfectly exemplifies his features, and you’re not sure whether to find the sight unsettling or absolutely breathtaking. “because i’ve known you my entire life, love.”

the nickname has your mind reeling in circles, paying no attention to the vows jeno was now dictating like a memorized poem of sorts. there was ever only one person who’s called you by that name, though it could never be someone like him… could it?

you snuck out of the castle to one of the town’s bakeries back when you were younger, meeting a boy who told you he was doing the exact same thing because he swore their garlic bread was absolutely out of this world, and that’s exactly why you came in the first place. it was like you both clicked, and that meeting became the first of many. though, as you grew older, your hectic tutoring schedules made it difficult for you to frequent the bakery as much as you used to.

still, you remember he suggested exchanging letters as a means of keeping in contact, and he’s the only one who’s referred to you as love. his love.

you’re abruptly taken away from your thoughts as the priest repeats your name, “princess, your vows if you may.”

“oh um, sorry.” you quickly apologize, trying to gather yourself back up.

jeno’s gaze on you looks much more animated than before, almost as if there was a playful glint that replaced the cold ones from earlier. where was the man you met moments ago as the event started? “i suppose you remember now.”

“yeah.” you breathe out, “yeah, i do.”

#lelengerine drabble event #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #nct angst #nct dream angst #jeno fluff #jeno angst #jeno #nct imagines #nct drabbles #nct dream imagines #nct dream drabbles

[forgedroyalseal]

I know, you think that what makes a king, is gold, a palace, and diamond rings

Two nights before the wedding, Horace found himself sneaking out of the palace and into the gardens. He was grateful, not for the first time, that his confusing status as both a lowborn knight and the soon to be Prince Consort had allowed him some flexibility when it came to having an escort. Once he married Cassandra and his role in the Araluen monarchy was cemented, he’d be followed by, at a minimum, a manservant, if not several members of the royal guard. But for the moment, he was blessedly alone. He walked until the torches of the guard stationed atop the castle’s wall became little flickers of orange light. Looking up at the clear midnight sky, he connected the constellations in his mind. Baron Arald had always held an affinity for constellations and the legends behind them. If the nights were mild enough, he drag the ward children out to the gardens and point out each star to them and tell the tale behind their name. Horace had always found it extraordinarily boring and used the time to taunt Will or try to sneak back off to bed. Now however, he was beginning to understand Arald’s interest in the sky. He understood the peace that it could provide, the comfort in understanding just how vast the universe is, that even if you falter, the stars will still twinkle and the moon will still glow.

“That’s Ursula Major, isn’t it?” Cassandra’s voice pulls Horace’s gaze down from the heavens. She’s alone, wrapped up in a heavy blush and burgundy quilt that Horace recognized as the one Lady Sandra had sent as an engagement gift.

“You shouldn’t be wandering out here alone. Where’s your guard?” Horace checked behind his fiancée for her royal guard Raul, but besides the stars and the towering oak trees, they were alone.

“Probably still standing outside my door. I snuck out the window.” She grinned at him and for a moment, Horace felt a wave of sympathy for the king. Cassandra had never once been a girl who could be contained or controlled.

“Anyway,” She continued, “I knew with you out here, I’d have nothing to worry about.” She leaned against him and he instinctively wrapped his arms around her. Summer had rolled in slowly this year, and despite it already being mid June, the night air still carried a bit of spring chill.

“Why are you even awake? It’s late and you’ve got a busy day ahead of you.” He said.

Cassandra scrunched her nose. “A day of picking out ribbons and flowers, and confirming choices I made months ago.” She sighed, ”But it’s almost over. Soon I won’t have to climb down ivy covered stone in the middle of the night to see you, I’ll simply have to turn over.”

Horace smiled, but his heartbeat began to race again, just as it had back in his chambers before he escaped into the gardens.

Cassandra had obviously picked up on the change as well, because she pulled her head back to look up at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” He lied, “I’m about to marry my best friend, what could possibly be wrong?”

“Ok, first of all, don’t let Will catch you calling me your best friend or he’ll be walking down that aisle himself just to prove a point. Second, I’ve known you since we were sixteen Horace, I know when you are lying to me.” Her words weren’t accusing or insulted, she said it as if she was simply stating a fact.

He sighed heavily, “It’s dumb. I’m just,” he waves a hand in the space around his head, “stuck in here, I guess.”

“Can I help get you unstuck?”

He bit his lip, “It’s not something you’ll… understand.”

Cassandra rose an eyebrow at him, “Try me.”

“I don’t think I can be royalty.”

She laughs, but stops when she sees his guilty and serious expression in the moonlight. “Horace, that’s crazy. Of course you can.”

He steps back from her and shakes his head, “See, I knew you wouldn’t get it! Cassie, you were literally born for this kind of life. But, I wasn’t. I-I have nothing to offer the Crown. There’s no political advantage to you marrying me, no strategic benefit, certainly no financial gain.”

“Horace-“

“Everyone thinks it Cass! I see it the moment I walk into a room. Everyone at court is thinking the same thing, “Why him?” And I get it! Because since the moment we started this whole thing, that question has been echoing in my mind nonstop.” Horace’s breaths were heavy and he felt his heart racing in his chest.

“Do you really not know?” Cassandra’s voice was small and timid, two things it so rarely was. Horace’s shoulders shrugged on their own and Cassandra’s face fell at the response.

“Darling,” She grasped both his hands in hers, “I didn’t accept your proposal because I saw you as some sort of pawn, an asset to the kingdom. I accepted because I love you. Because I can’t imagine a life without you at my side.” She reached up and placed a gentle hand on his cheek, “Besides, haven’t you been paying any attention to the history lessons you’ve been taking? A good king isn’t measured by his wealth, or the number of his alliances. He’s measured by the strength of his heart, his love for his people. And by that standard, you’d make the very best of kings.”

Horace blinked up at Ursula Major, willing the tears that were being to form away. “I love you so much.” He felt her arms squeeze around him.

“I love you too. Now come on, we should head back before Raul realizes he’s lost me again.”

__________________________

Will was waiting outside of his suite, folded against the door half asleep. Horace lightly kicked at his leg, even though he knew Will had noticed his approach the moment he entered the corridor.

“Dude, why are you sleeping against my door? Alyss get bored of you already?”

Will grinned up at him, “Not yet, thank god.” He yawned and Horace rolled his eyes before reaching down and pulling Will up to his feet.

“Thanks. I saw you sneak out. I was going to check on you, but then I saw Cassandra disappear after you and figured that was a party I wasn’t invited to.” He said with a wink.

Horace shoved him, “It wasn’t like that. I just, I don’t know. Was caught in my head.”

“Cold feet?”

“No. Maybe lukewarm feet, but everything is sorted now.”

“Good. Because as the best man, getting you down the aisle is literally my only job. And it’s a lot easier if you go willingly.”

Horace clapped Will on the shoulder, “No need to worry brother, there’s nothing I want more than to marry Cassie.”

#rangers apprentice #ranger's apprentice #will treaty #horace altman #ranger’s apprentice fanfiction #rangers apprentice fanfiction #song fic series #song fic drabbles #song fic

[i-heart-slashers]

You’re Mine | chapter one

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | A peaceful town in Indiana turns into a bloodbath when a deadly threat haunts the town. The resident teenagers are terrorized by a masked killer, which begins to tear at the fabric of an otherwise-peaceful community ending in bloody pieces of innocent lives scattered around the small town of Hawkins.

Kimberly and her friends have to navigate their lives while trying to survive the murderous Ghostface killer who seems intent on killing them all but is the killer someone they already know?...

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | character death(s), harassment, violence, murder, stalking, slasher killer, killing spree,

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 1.2 k

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | murder, gore, character death, violence, mentions of violent acts, home invasion and implications of eating disorder.

Kimberly sighed as she leaned back against the couch, the weight of her friend Chrissy's troubled relationship pressing on her shoulders. The phone call had been another chapter in the ongoing saga of Chrissy and Jason, and Kimberly couldn't help but feel a mix of frustration and sympathy.

Eddie, noticing Kimberly's evident distress, gently placed a wary hand on her shoulder. His soft brown eyes conveyed genuine concern as he asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, sorry, just Chrissy troubles," Kimberly replied, mustering a small smile for Eddie. She could always count on him to lend a listening ear. "I think I actually talked her into dumping Jason finally," she added, the sigh that followed betraying her building headache.

She felt pity for what her best friend was about to go through.

Eddie, the resident drug-dealing 'senior' senior of their high school, sat on the floor beside Kimberly, who had set up a makeshift study area with a coffee table strewn with books and study materials. "Wow, I can't imagine Jason will be happy with that," Eddie remarked, his tone reflecting a mix of curiosity and concern.

Kimberly frowned as she contemplated the repercussions of Chrissy's decision. "He hasn't got a choice; Chrissy deserves better than that asshole. Once we're out of high school, she'll see how better off she is without him."

Eddie chuckled, but his eyes were serious, contradicting his light tone. "Out of high school or Hawkins," he quipped, referring to their small town. The comment subtly acknowledged their unspoken plans for life after graduation.

Kimberly's wry smile in response held a mixture of determination and anticipation. She knew Eddie had overheard the conversation, and they both shared a silent understanding of their shared dreams of leaving Hawkins behind.

"I forgot to ask, how did the English paper go?" the brunette asks, remembering the last time they studied together, which was becoming more frequent over time. If Eddie needed her help, Kimberly was always there to offer it.

Eddie handed over some papers with a sheepish grin. His grades had steadily declined before he got tutoring from the pretty brunette, but now they were slowly going back up.

Kimberly's eyes scan over the words on the English paper he'd written in his scrawled handwriting.

"See! I told you that you could do it. If you put in as much effort with this as you do in your campaigns, you'll sail your way to graduation," She says to him with a happy smile, pleased at Eddie's work.

"I'm pretty sure I'm only passing because of you," Eddie chuckles as he scratches the back of his neck, feeling a blush rise from the neck of his shirt.

It wasn't speculation; it was a fact. Kimberly's help was keeping him going, and teachers were off his back.

Kimberly smiles as she looks at the older teen. "You're not just passing because of me, Eddie," she said, her gaze meeting his. "You're passing because you're putting in the effort, and that's something to be proud of. One day, you won't even need me," she teases, drinking from her soda bottle.

"I'll always need you," Eddie says, looking at her with wide brown eyes. The thought of Kimberly not being around makes him sad. It's not every day someone treats him like he's not a freak, and it's even less someone like her was willing to spend time helping him out.

Eddie was grateful for Kimberly's support. His eyes scanned the pages of the English paper, absorbing the words and ideas that had earned him praise from the brunette. It starkly contrasted his usual encounters in the harsh high school environment.

Kimberly, in turn, appreciated the companionship that Eddie offered. She found comfort in the fact that, despite the storm raging outside, there was a sense of calm within the walls of her frequently empty home.

"Such a charmer, but your flattery doesn't work with me." With a sly, joking smile, Kimberly pushes the books and paper toward Eddie with a small smile as they begin to study.

The rain began to beat against the windows, the wind howling through the trees as the storm outside intensified. Lightning flashed through the room, casting eerie, fleeting shadows on the walls. Sirens wailed in the distance, becoming a haunting backdrop to their shared moment of silence.

Kimberly and Eddie immersed themselves in their books, and a comfortable silence settled between them; the atmosphere was warm and focused, but outside, the storm raged on as more lightning struck, but the two ignored it as the sirens mixed in with the loud bangs.

Eddie leaned over the coffee table, absorbed in his books and notes. Though a chaotic mess, he understood it, and that was something remarkable in itself. He wasn't dumb, and he knew it. He just needed a different way of studying and understanding.

Kimberly pointed to a particular section in one of the textbooks, underlining it in pencil. "Remember, Eddie, this part is essential for the upcoming test. You've got this. Just keep going, and you'll be on your way to graduation in no time and giving the middle finger to the man."

The dark-haired metalhead nodded, a determined glint in his eyes. "I owe a lot of this to you, Kimmy. Without your help and encouragement, I don't know where I'd be."

With a gentle smile and her gaze softening, Kimberly looked at her friend. "You've come a long way, Eddie, and I'm proud of you. And I'm always here to help, but you're more capable than you give yourself credit for."

The room took on an intimate atmosphere as the two delved back into their respective study materials. Eddie appreciated the solace that Kimberly's presence brought, a stark contrast to the turbulent environment of high school, where he often felt like an outsider.

As Kimberly flipped through her textbook, she couldn't help but marvel at Eddie's determination. It was evident that his academic struggles weren't due to a lack of intelligence but rather a lack of support. The quiet confidence he displayed in the face of challenges was something she found admirable.

"You know, Eddie, it's not just about the grades. You've got a unique perspective and voice. Don't let anyone make you feel otherwise," Kimberly said, her eyes meeting his. "I think you're selling yourself short. You're a lot more capable than you give yourself credit for. Maybe it's time to believe in your own potential."

Eddie smiled appreciatively, grateful for the academic guidance and the emotional support Kimberly offered. Eddie couldn't help but reflect on Kimberly's positive changes in his life as they continued to study.

Outside the Caligari home, a dark figure shrouded in the shadows of the storm stands watching the teenage girl and boy laugh and work together as if in their own little bubble.

As the night progressed, the intensity of the storm grew. The lightning painted patterns across the sky, briefly illuminating the silhouette of the dark figure. The distant sirens and bangs became a haunting accompaniment to the unfolding scene.

A calculating glint in their eyes hinted at a deeper interest in the lives of these two teenagers. Unbeknownst to Kimberly and Eddie, their bond had not gone unnoticed. Their laughter and camaraderie seemed to be an oasis of normalcy in a world that often felt troubled and uncertain.

A gust of wind rustled the figure's coat, revealing only a glimpse of a face obscured by darkness. Their purpose and identity remained unknown. Only time would tell their intentions and the impact they would have.

In the midst of the raging storm, the two friends studied, laughed, and supported each other, unaware of the ambiguous figure lurking in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to make their presence known.

#stranger things #horror #horror slashers #slashers #stranger things ghostface #ghostface #stranger things au #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #female oc #stranger things female #eddie munson #steve harrington #billy hargrove #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #Scream #Scream Inspired

[gottagobackintime]

Ted being obsessed and upset with the idea of Michelle getting engaged makes perfect sense. And I think they handled it in a good way.

Let’s go back and look at where he is coming from.

Michelle was the one who fell out of love, not Ted.

Michelle was the one who asked for the divorce and he agreed, but he didn’t really want to, wasn’t really ready to give up on his marriage.

He starts having panic attacks and he is depressed.

He’s separated from his son because he was advised to give Michelle space and the manager job was an opportunity to do that.

He finds out that Michelle has a “friend” close enough to give Henry expensive gifts, and he’s not stupid, he understands that it’s not just a friend. But Michelle didn’t tell him so he doesn’t say anything.

He finds out by accident that the “friend” is not only not just a friend, he feels comfortable enough to pick up the phone at Michelle’s house.

The “friend” also turns out to be their former couple’s therapist, the therapist that Ted already felt undermined him during their sessions. And now he finds out that said therapist is in a relationship with his ex. And that he’s apparently such a big part of Michelle and Henry’s life that he’s driving them around. And Michelle never told him that she’s seeing someone and that she has introduced him to their son.

He’s upset and yet he knows that he has no say in who she dates and he does accept that. It hurts him but he accepts it. But then he sees them together, or more importantly, he sees that Jake treats Henry like his son. And it hurts Ted even more. Not only did he lose his wife, he’s now losing his son. He’s not really of course, Henry loves him and he is still his son, but this is what Ted is feeling.

He’s trying to be friendly, even commenting positively on Michelle and Jake’s little getaway. And then all of a sudden he finds out that, actually, she’s being surprised with a trip to Paris. A city known for being THE romantic place to go, but also a place that Ted never got to take her. And so he assumes that Jake will propose.

His suspicions get some validation by Roy and Trent (and Beard) saying that, if they were to propose, they would do it in Paris. So he must be right. If you’re surprised with a romantic trip to Paris, you’ll get proposed to.

He then tells them that’s what’s going to happen and they all react with sympathy. And then we get to see the Diamond Dogs assemble, with new member, Trent Crimm.

The first thing Higgins does when he finds out what is happening is to offer sympathy. Saying that it’s hard when your ex moves on. And it’s especially hard when you’re the one who didn’t want the relationship to be over.

BUT, then they find out that Ted doesn’t actually have any evidence at all that Michelle will get engaged and they all call him out on it in their own way. Beard, Roy and Higgins with annoyance, Trent with words of wisdom and Higgins reaffirming Trent’s words. They’re still there for him but they’re also calling him out on his nonsenses.

Then of course he doesn’t really accept what the Diamond Dogs are saying because he’s gone too far down the rabbit hole at this point. So he goes to Rebecca. And he goes too far by asking her to hire a private investigator to follow Michelle and Jake in Paris. And while I wish that she’d been more firm from the beginning, saying no and not letting him believe that she would do it. I understand why she didn’t. Because she’s been in a similar dark place. Not the same, but I believe that she understands the pain he’s going through.

Then in the end he accepts that he can’t do anything and while yes he checks her finger for a ring, I believe that this was a needed step on his journey to being okay. Did he go too far? Absolutely. Do I understand and sympathise? Also yes.

I can understand that he’s obsessed with the thought of Michelle getting engaged. It’s not that he doesn’t accept that she’s moving on, I mean he himself finds the idea of Jake asking his permission to propose to Michelle weird. But since she didn’t even tell him that she was dating someone seriously enough that he had been introduced to their son, it obviously left some scars. What’s to say that she’d actually tell him they’re engaged. She broke his trust the moment she kept her relationship status secret. And now he has to navigate that. Not really being able to sort through his feelings. Because so much is going on at the same time. It’s the first time he’s seeing them together as a couple, Jake clearly trying to take on a parental role with Henry, him finding out that they’re actually going on a surprise trip to Paris. It gets too much and he spirals. But as I said earlier, the show is telling us that what Ted is doing isn’t okay. His feelings are valid, his actions are not. The Diamond Dogs validates his feelings while still calling him out on his obsession with the possible proposal. Rebecca shows sympathy and in the end she makes him realise that it’s gone too far and that he should go be with Henry.

He needed this to happen so that he can move on.

#ted lasso spoilers #ted lasso #nicole watches stuff #was it painful to watch? yes #was it needed for ted to be able to properly move on? yes

[with-love-from-hell]

5 Sides of Human

{Part Nineteen}

Genre: Mixed

WC: ~4.1k

CW: Depression, Allusion to past trauma, Mentions of chronic illness, very fluffy chapter, Storm has a stutter but I am not depicting it with written word consistently, prolly lots of typos lol, spoilers for season 1&2, I'm skipping over/changing some things I didn't like in the main story so it will be a bit different from canon!

A/N: Expedited this because me and one of my friends could use some comfort from our boys <3

Series Masterlist

©️ artwork commissioned by @vivi8bit ©️  

“Fuck off, Old man.” Vivi hissed as she pushed past Lucifer toward Satan’s room, ignoring his warning of completing their homework before spending time with the 4th born. He had been hounding her about grades for nearly two weeks since the play, seeing as she had stopped going to classes in preference of doing...well...anything else. 

Lucifer sighed in frustration, rubbing his temples roughly. The headache that had been seemingly endless since the night of the play only seemed to become more painful. For goodness sake, where was Storm? She was the only one who offered him any sort of respite, and he had hardly been able to spend any time with her since Asmo basically forced her to be at his side 24/7 to aid him in the stupid Bloody Moon competition. His only solace was that the event took place in three days time, so she would soon become free again, but he worried that his brothers would easily trip over themselves to spend time with her.  He found himself often feeling jealous, but couldn’t set his pride aside to fight for her companionship.

“Vivi, Would you please listen to reason.” Lucifer turned and followed them down the hall, much to their displeasure. “Diavolo expects all of our students to be in class if they are able- so if something is preventing you from attending-” 

“Stop treating me like a 7 year old, Dick-bag.” Vivi whipped around, Lucifer nearly colliding with them as they suddenly stopped. “I don’t give a fuck about Diavolo and what his expectations are. I told you from the beginning I didn’t ask to be here!” 

Lucifer pulled his lips back into a thin line, holding back his anger as much as he could. Storm had urged him to try to be more patient and understanding, and her teachings to him on human’s emotions and trauma had been able to help him empathize with Storm, but Vivi was another Story. All he thought of when he interacted with her was a young Satan, though much less destructive. And he still struggled with the 5th born who was his own brother- how could he ever manage to deal with this human who had decided she hated him from day 1? 

“Vivi, I am merely acting out of concern for you.” 

“Ha!” Vivi shook their head, crossing their arms over their chest. “Concern for me?! Don’t make me laugh. All you care about is boot licking for the crown. Now leave me alone.” 

Unbelievable...Lucifer sighed, throwing up his hands in exasperation. “Fine- if you are refusing my sympathy, so be it.  But this conversation is not over, Vivi.” 

“Eat shit, Dracula.” They yelled back as they climbed the stairs toward Satan’s room, slamming the door after they entered. 

Lucifer growled in frustration, trying to massage away the headache that was very much present in the forefront of his brain.

“Hey, Lucifer!” 

Lucifer whipped around, shocked to hear the sickly-sweet voice of Storm suddenly behind him. His posture lifted and his eyes seemed to sparkle at the sight of her. His heart nearly lifted into his throat as it fluttered excitedly. “Oh, Storm!” 

“Hey!” she laughed running a hand through her hair. “Sorry It’s been a hot minute since we’ve really talked- Asmo has kept me unreasonably distracted.” 

Lucifer waved off the apology. “It’s no trouble. I know how my brothers can be. I’m always glad to see you regardless!” 

She was surprised by the excitement in his demeanor. She gave a small giggle as her cheeks turned slightly pink. “What? Did you miss me that much?” 

Lucifer cleared his throat, trying to hide a growing blush. “I merely find the lack of your company odd, given how accustomed I’d become to it.” 

Storm rolled her eyes with a small laugh. “Sure. Well, I managed to have Heart and Sarah distract Asmo while I snuck away for a bit. I have a lot of classes that I’m falling behind on because of all this, and needed a place to do it where I wont be bothered. Could I use your office, please?” 

“Of course. I was just going to get started on signing some documents for Diavolo.” Lucifer smiled. “I would enjoy the extra company.” 

“Great. I’ll make some refreshments then!” Her smile grew wide and she turned on her heel, nearly skipping down the hallway in excitement. 

Lucifer watched happily, finding the stress of the past 10 days melting away slightly. His shoulders relaxed as he made his way toward his office to clear some space for her to do her work. The paperwork Diavolo had been assigning to him had been piling up to the point where stacks had been set on the loveseat across from the fireplace. The chronic migraines he had begun experiencing had made focusing on anything extremely difficult, and he had been falling behind in his own work to the point where Storm’s missing assignments didn’t even phase him. The only reason Vivi stuck out was because their Devildom History professor had reached out about the attendance issue  along with numerous missing assignments, and a threat to remove them from the class. Even so, he knew something was going on with them to cause the sudden change. 

Despite not wanting to be here, as they had reiterated to him about a hundred times at this point, they still went almost all of their classes, and he knew Satan was helping them with assignments- or rather, doing it for them- so he was uncertain as to why the sudden changes happened since the night of the ball. They had been secluding themselves more, even from Satan, and even the calloused way they talked to anyone seemed to lessen in favor of mere silence. The only one who seemed to be able to get through to them was Storm, and she became oddly protective of them, offering anyone who offered any sort of criticism toward their demeanor a harsh glare or snapping at them to mind their business. 

“I made some cucumber sandwiches and chai, I hope that’s alright.” Lucifer jumped as she spoke, his thoughts having distracted him so much that he didn’t even hear her enter the room. 

“That’s perfect, thank you...though you didn’t have to do that.” He smiled at her as he set down a large stack of documents. 

She set the tray on the coffee table and dropped her satchel to the floor beside the couch. she crossed one leg over her knee as she poured them each a cup of tea. “I suppose I didn’t have to, but I know how hard you work yourself and how you tend to neglect to take breaks.” 

Lucifer scoffed. “Thank you for the consideration, but I am more than capable of taking care of myself. You worry to much, Storm.” 

She side eyed him for a moment, before returning her focus to setting two sandwiches on his plate. “Mmhmm.” 

“What coursework are you missing?” He sat on the couch next to her, propping his leg up similarly and balancing his plate on his knee while he sipped his tea. The sweet floral notes danced on Lucifer’s tongue, and the light carbonation fizzled as it slid easily down his throat. It reminded him of the feeling of kissing Storm, making his heartbeat increase ever so slightly as she pulled out her note pad from her bag, along with two text books. 

“I mean, I guess I shouldn’t have said I'm falling behind.” She laughed, rubbing the back of her neck nervously. “I just...don’t like not being ahead on my work.”

Lucifer smiled. That was something he had always admired about her. “So what is it that you’d like to get ahead on?” 

“Well,” She tapped her chin thoughtfully with her pen, “I have a research paper due next week in beast keeping- I’m writing about the dangers of serpents and basilisks. I have a lab on Monday in Potions, and I wanted to make sure to have the ingredients we’re using and their effects committed to memory...and I’m missing Curses and Hexes tomorrow because of the Bloody Moon thing, so I have some notes I wanted to catch up on in preparation for that.” 

Lucifer nodded. “That doesn’t seem so bad.” 

Storm shrugged, glancing down at the floor. “I just don’t like waiting until the last minute to do stuff...” 

“I wish my brothers were more like you.” Lucifer sighed, the pounding headache he was experiencing now coming back behind his eyes. “Or the other exchange students, for that matter.” 

“Are the other humans really so bad?” Storm glanced at him, sadly. “...Or is it that you havent taken the opportunity to get to know them better, like you did with me?” 

“Well, frankly I think part of the problem is that none of them appear to be as adherent to rules like you are, in addition to the fact that our personalities don’t blend as well. Each of them has found at least one of my brothers easy to get along with, with the exception of me. The only one not causing me constant stress is Heart, but even he tends to be more laissez faire about regulation and etiquette than you are.” 

Storm paused, thinking over his words for a moment. “Well, I suppose that’s fair. But, you know it even took you awhile to warm up to me, right?” 

Lucifer sighed. “I’m aware, yes. But you seemed to at least follow simple instructions, and frankly now I consider myself lucky that you were the first example of an exchange student we had. These other humans...” 

Storm glanced up at him as his words trailed off into a groan. Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose tightly, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to stave off the pain at the front of his head. Storm shifted in her seat, setting down her tea plate and scooting closer to him. 

“Are you okay?” her eyes darted around his face, trying to see if she could figure out what was wrong with him. 

It took him a moment to reply, his voice strained. “Yes. No need to worry, just a mere headache, is all.” 

“That doesn’t look like just a headache.” Storm scooted closer still, gently touching the sides of his forehead where veins protruded against his skin. “It looks more like a migraine. How long has this been going on?” 

“Storm, I’m fine.” He reassured, though made no attempts to mover her hands away as her fingers traced the side of his face. He found her touch pleasing, no matter the circumstance, but tried to prevent himself from leaning into it and cause her more worry. 

“Clearly you’re not.” She shook her head as he winced through another sharp pain. “You should be resting. Migraines should be nursed with low light and water!” 

Before Lucifer could protest, she was on her feet, pacing around his office to dim the lamps and reduce the flame on the fire. She tugged the curtains closed to reduce outside light as well, and then jogged out of the room. She returned back within minutes with glass of water, another empty glass, and an armful of herbs. she shoved the water in Lucifer’s hand and snatched his tea cup away from him. She dumped the tea into a nearby plant, and quickly shred some of the herbs  and shaved some of the root with her thumbnail. After the materials were swiped into the glass, Storm took it and rushed out of the room again, returning within a minute with a perfectly hot cup of herbal tea. 

“Here. Drink this.” She shoved the teacup toward him. 

“What is-” 

“Just drink it.” She motioned for him to grab the cup, which he reluctantly did and took a small, cautious sip. “It’s something I drink when I have migraines. It’s a simple mint and ginger based tea, with lavender, butterbur, and coriander. It’ll help.” 

Lucifer nodded, not really finding the drink very pleasurable, but trusting in Storm’s knowledge given her chronic conditions. After finishing the tea, storm immediately took the cup from him and bolted out of the room once more. Lucifer sighed, standing and moving toward his desk, this time not missing when she came back in completely out of breath. 

“What are you doing?” She panted, dropping a large blanket on the couch.

“I’m getting started on the mounds of paperwork I have.” He noted flatly. “A simple headache isn’t going to stop me from my duties.” 

“Lucifer...” Storm murmured sadly. “You need to rest.” 

“Thank you for the concern but-”

“Lucifer.” She reiterated again, this time more sternly. 

“Storm, I’m telling you I’m fine.” He sighed in frustration, crossing his arms. “I don’t need-” 

“Lucifer, Get your butt over to this couch and lay down!” Storm narrowed her eyes as her voice raised slightly, denoting her seriousness. “That is an order!” 

Lucifer blinked and widened his eyes as her pact mark shimmered on her chest. He sighed again- though this time it came out as more of a growl. His feet propelled him forward against his well, coming to a rest in front of the couch. He plopped down, glaring at her the entire time, though she wore a warm, satisfied smile plainly on her face. She laid out a blanket over him as he adjusted himself horizontally. 

“This is not how I imagined you using our pact, Storm.” Lucifer grumbled, though felt eased with her care as she pulled a blanket up to his chin.

“You need to take care of yourself when you feel unwell.” She murmured, gazing into his eyes for a moment. “You overwork yourself too much and...I...worry about you.” 

Lucifer stared back at her, feeling his heart flutter in his chest once more. He wasn’t sure what to say, he simply watched as she pressed a cold compress to his head and loosened his tie. 

“Now get some rest. You don’t have to sleep, but just resting your eyes will help.” she smiled, caressing his cheek for a moment. “Your paperwork can wait.” 

Lucifer groaned. “Very well, but I expect you to wake me in an hour.” 

Storm nodded, smiling warmly back at him. He let his eyes gently close as she slowly ran her hand through his hair a few times. He sighed contently, now letting himself lean into her touch. He nearly whined as he felt her hand leave his hair. He heard her shuffle her belongings to the chair next to the couch, followed by the sound of a scribbling pen. Slowly, his muscles relaxed and the throbbing pain dulled enough to where he could drift into unconsciousness.

Vivi slammed the door behind her, causing the tall tower of books near Satan’s bed to waver with the intensity of the force. Satan steadied them, peaking around behind the mess to see a very angry Vivi approaching him. He hadn’t really even spoken to them in nearly a week, and they had strong armed him out of any conversation he tried to engage basically since the ball. The past 3 days were the worst of it though, and they had basically holed up in her room, refusing to talk to anyone in that time other than Storm- and even with her the conversations seemed minimal.

“Vivi! What seems to be-” 

“Shut it. I came here to get away from your annoying older brother and that’s it. I want to be left alone.” Vivi picked a corner far away from Satan, nearly curling into themself with their sketch book.  

Satan watched curiously, noting the slow, gentle movements they made on the paper despite their angry demeanor. He thought about what he could say- or rather, maybe not say- to get her to open up. At times like this he wished he had the seemingly seamless ability that Storm had to get through to people who were struggling and get them to talk. He attempted to channel his inner ‘Storm’ and try to engage with them, despite the fact that they so clearly stated they want to be alone.

“I haven’t talked to you in awhile.” He commented, picking up a book and mimicking their actions on his bed. “I’ve missed you, you know.” 

Vivi’s hand paused its movements for a short moment, before picking up at a faster pace than before.

Satan chewed the inside of his cheek. “You know I’m here for you, right?” 

“I thought I told you to be quiet.” She snapped her head toward him, giving him a pointed glare. After seeing his concerned expression, her scowl dissipated and she turned her attention back to her sketch book. “I...I just don’t want to talk about it.” 

“But you came here.” Satan added. “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to, but I want to help.” 

“There’s nothing you can do.” 

“What makes you so sure?” 

“I don’t...” Vivi sighed in frustration. “You wouldn’t understand. None of you stupid demons do! So just leave it alone.” 

“You talked to Storm, though. So there’s something she did that helped, right?” Satan slowly inched his way across his bed as he spoke, hoping she wouldn’t notice how cautiously he approached her. 

“Storm is...different. She’s the only one who at least kind of understands what growing up with-” Vivi paused, clenching her pen in her fist. “Just forget it. It doesn’t matter.” 

Satan’s expression softened further. “It does matter though. You don’t have to talk about it, but that doesn’t mean whatever is bothering you doesn’t matter.” 

Vivi stayed silent, though Satan could her their breath start to falter. 

“I care about you.” He stated matter-of-factly, and just the statement alone was enough to release the flood gates on Vivi’s tears. They curled into themself, trying desperately to hide their face from Satan. He immediately leapt from his bed, crouching next to them. For a moment though he hesitated to touch them, remembering Storm’s emphasis to him and his brothers on consent before offering any sort of physical comfort to her, and figured he should apply it here too. “Would you like a hug, Vivi?” 

There was a pause, and the only sound that could be heard was the sound of Vivi trying to regain control of their breathing. They didn’t speak, but saw their head move from beneath their arms, indicating an affirmative.

Satan smiled, pulling them tightly into his arms. They cried softly into his chest. He rubbed their back as they cried, offering small words of reassurance for them to cling to while he comforted them. Eventually, he had Vivi pulled onto his lap, cradling them as they tried to regain their ability to breath smoothly. Once they were calmed down, he decided to speak to them again. 

“Do you want a distraction? I guess I could like...read to you, if you wanted?” He shrugged, glancing back at their glistening eyes from beneath the mess of purple and black hair that was plastered against their forehead. They gave a small nod, which Satan returned with a wide smile. He snatched a book from a nearby stack and began reading, holding Vivi close to him while he did so. 

Eventually, he heard their breathing slow, and he glanced down to see their eyes fixated on the page as he read. His chest felt warm as he continued reading, glancing at them out of the corner of his eye as he did. They were cute like this, clinging to his chest like a sad lost kitten. He wanted desperately to do more for them, and he wish they’d tell him what had got to them so badly. His mind raced with possibilities, knowing it surly couldn’t just be Lucifer’s hovering that had them so depressed.  

After about an hour, finishing 3 chapters of the book he was reading to them, he set it aside. He returned his focus to making sure they felt comforted as he rested his chin on their head, unconsciously rocking them back and forth subtly. 

“Are you still not wanting to talk? It’s okay if you don’t, but I want to know what’s wrong or if I could help.” Satan brushed straggling strands of hair back from their eyes, searching them for a sign that he could be let in. 

“No...but I...” Vivi sighed, rubbing their eyes and smearing makeup down their cheeks. “...I appreciate...y’know...this.” 

Satan smiled sadly. “Okay. Well, I hope you know that whoever made you feel this way would easily get their spines shoved up their ass...if I had anything to say about it.” 

Vivi snorted. “Thanks. I’d like that. I’ll send you a list. Maybe you could start with your goth wannabe older brother.” 

Satan let out a loud laugh, nearly flinging Vivi off his lap in the process. Soon enough, they were laughing along side him. 

Lucifer rubbed his eyes and stretched, finally haven woken up after a nap he had needed for centuries. He felt well rested...calm, even. Through the small gap in the curtains on the window, he could tell that it was well into the evening. Now realizing he had definitely been asleep for longer than an hour, he immediately sprung up from the couch, tossing the blankets off of him as he did so. 

“Storm, I thought I told you to-” His annoyed tone faltered as his frantic darting glance fell onto Storm, who was curled up in the armchair next to the couch. Her textbook laid open on the arm, some jumbled notes scribbled on the note pad next to her. He sighed. It was hard to stay mad at her when she looked so cute. 

He grabbed the blanket that he had been covered with, gently spreading it over her instead. He folded her notes into the book, being careful not to lose her page, and set in atop the coffee table. To his surprise, he now noticed the coffee table had been completely cleared off, spare for a couple glasses of water. Lucifer furrowed his brow, now gazing around the room to see the status of the rest of it. His eyes widened when they fell onto his desk, noting that the papers that had been haphazardly piled onto it and the floor were now in neat, pristine stacks. He approached curiously, seeing sticky notes on the top in a familiar chicken scratch that was less messy than she tried to convince him it was. 

Review and Sign. Bills. Professor evaluations. Program reviews. Requests for funding...each small stack had their own sticky note attached to the top. One huge pile on the floor remained, with a piece of paper that said Completed on it. He picked up the stack, looking through it carefully. The things in this pile appeared to be a mixture of documents completed by his brothers that needed to be reviewed and approved. Atop each was another sticky note with instructions. Send to Diavolo for final approval, no errors. Review at council meeting on Wednesday. No further action. His jaw dropped in flipping through the easily two-foot stack of papers, each set of documents containing their own note of what was completed and what was needed to do next. 

Lucifer set the stack down and plopped into his chair. He carded a hand through his hair, seeing that Storm had easily gone through almost half of what was needed to be done, and even organized the rest so it could be completed faster. He glanced over to her in the arm chair, where the gentle rise and fall of her chest could be seen even from where he sat. 

She neglected her own work...for me. 

Lucifer felt warmth spread to his cheeks from his chest, finding himself flabbergasted that she would even bother to help him rest, let alone do his work for him. His heart felt full at the care she took to reduce his stress, which only added to her own. He sighed, picking up a stack of papers and setting them on the coffee table. He sat back down on the couch, debating briefly if he should move Storm to her bed. After watching her nuzzle into the blankets he decided against it, figuring she looked comfortable as is. He smiled to himself as began sorting through the bills, occasionally glancing over at Storm’s peaceful, slumbering body. 

The ease he felt with her here was immeasurable. So much so, that he barely noticed the slight pain in his head that began snaking through his temples once more. 

#obey me! #obey me #shall we date: obey me #obey me swd #OM! #om! swd #obey me mc: storm #obey me mc: vivi #obey me mc: sarah #obey me mc: fern #obey me mc: heart #obey me fic #obm #obey me: shall we date? #obey me: one master to rule them all #obey me series #5 sides of human

[hdminseon-archive]

━━ : 𝐎𝐇, 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐌𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍  ( I MEAN THAT, I NEED THAT ) .

DATED:  early february 2023 FEATURING:  canon npc’s ! WORD COUNT:  1,270 NOTES:  coming off a nightmarish week, but writing minseon is my means of catharsis ♡  formal interview 23Q1 !  ( cw, as always:  self-loathing, maladaptive daydreaming, compartmentalization gone wrong )

MINSEON IS TIRED OF BEING ALONE. It’s a development that seems, from an outside perspective, prompted by long evenings spent stretched in solitude, a lack of consequence in time ( minutes, hours, days ) burned studying his reflection in the mirror, counting the bones in his rib cage, the moles scattered like stars across the expanse of his skin—  And… it’s not an entirely incorrect assumption to make. Following the quarterly evaluation, he’s found himself already missing the structure of a team, missing the feeling of running together towards something, rather than running alone from…  something else.

And, well. That’s where sympathy for his plight begins to run a bit thin.

Because for as long as he can remember, Minseon has planted secrets within himself, kept knowledge of his whereabouts hidden from his own eyes. Too many mornings he’s come to, body aching, dull discomfort in the back of his head, with the awareness that he’s done things the evening prior but is left with no memory of them. When he finds time to lick his wounds, he’s haunted by the understanding that they are self-inflicted, that there is a…  creature living inside him that he’s all but fed by turning a blind eye to it and its exploits.

And… Minseon would have continued to refuse responsibility, plead ignorance of it, if its existence did not begin to manifest in his dreams, then his waking hours.  — It eventually reaches a point where it begins to collide into him, interrupt his quiet life, shake him from his sleep, until finally, he’s forced to reckon the truth that he’s run so fast and so far from himself that he hardly recognizes that this creature in the mirror is his own reflection.

So, he’s tired of being alone. But more than that, he’s tired of being alone with himself.

MINSEON SHIFTS A LITTLE IN HIS SEAT.  The training studio is still, but not in the way that he likes. There’s a stiff, brittle sort of air about it that seems to encourage feelings of unease. He’s prepared for this tension, though, managed to dress himself in a pressed collared shirt and fitted slacks, straightened his posture, even, before he entered the room. He’s been looking forward to this interview since he received notice of it, and he tells his current company as such when they first greet him in. 

The consulting team takes their time opening up the discussion in an official capacity; Minseon does not mind the exchange of pleasantries, but it’s clear he becomes visibly on edge when things finally begin. He’s happy to hear that his group as a whole has received high praise, but his expression remains pleasantly neutral throughout the debrief, only returning a smile when he is offered one. He does not miss the way the majority of their feedback is framed to commend their individual talents, and when asked about his feelings working with the team, he knows that the question is pointed. He carefully considers his choice of words, wets his lips before speaking:

“I felt… more sure of myself with the team than I would have on my own. … Truth is, they made me better.” His eyes briefly fall to the floor before they skip back up again, regarding each interviewer in measured thought. “Think it’s rare for any group to avoid tension, ‘specially at the start.  — ‘s… good to have disagreements, I think. Good to have differences in opinion. Think we all learned how to work with each other to put on the best performance that we could.”

He is met with a polite smile that he reflects.

They move on to individual scores.

He shrinks.

Like a shadow shies from the sun, he’s spent his latter years always at the edge, the outside looking in. So when formal training for the quarter began and he pushed himself into taking center position of his group, Minseon had felt… terrified. As practice sessions carried onward, he convinced himself that this was his penance for flying too high: That his fate was to burn.

— Except, as it turns out, it… wasn’t, and he didn’t.

With this performance, he proved that he could emerge into the light without cowering from it. In fact, by the song’s conclusion, he felt like he’d almost managed to eclipse the light entirely. And… it was such an inviting idea, to find himself capable; it was compelling.  — So compelling, in fact, that Minseon began to torment himself, wondering if he could reach this high ever again. After the evaluation, he plunged himself headfirst into practice, eluded sleep through the night, enveloped himself in his work when he could think, left curious visitors short-lived souvenirs ( tender bruises, kiss-swollen lips ) when he couldn’t.

And all the while, his head continued to echo a bewildering refrain: WOULD THEY TURN TO LOOK AT ME, WOULD THEY STILL LOVE ME IF MY SHADOW SWALLOWED THE SUN?

( It’s a mouthwatering notion, and Minseon’s appetite is voracious. )

He pulls himself from his thoughts with an apprehensive shudder, realizing with a start that his hands have clenched themselves into fists, tense and white-knuckled. A large part of him, the part with an unfortunate propensity for self-sabotage, silently pleads for misfortune. He’s not sure this is a fever he can sweat out on his own, so he solicits an intervention—

… But he’s left unanswered.  ( Maybe his fate is to burn. )

Following the disclosure of his results, Minseon’s eyes widen, and he quickly ducks his head down into a long, gratified bow. The word ‘hunger’ is used in an observation, and he almost has to bite back a laugh at how stripped it makes him feel, the way everyone can see through to him so easily—  He’s remarkably pleased. When he lifts his head, there’s a feral curl to his lip. No longer pleasantly neutral. No longer polite. Veritably him.

The consulting team continues reviewing details regarding the new survival project and Minseon’s role within it. They broach the topic of his placement as a ‘brand option,’ and a small noise of disbelief catches in his throat. He raises both eyebrows, processing. This decision is immediately grounded in the evaluation results, he understands, but he can’t quite fathom the thought process behind anyone wanting to see… more of him?

The team continues with words of advice: “Study your surroundings. Know a teammate’s next step before their feet move.”

And then suddenly, Minseon is awash with light— white hot and blinding.

“The company will watch you with sharp precision.”

When his eyes adjust, he is standing center stage against a sea of unrecognizable faces. Every eye is fixed upon him. He says, “Watch me, then.”

And… though he’s surrounded by spectators, he’s alone again. Again, alone.  — His hands are cold, he doesn’t remember the last time they were held, and he’s so tired of having to count the time in between ( days, months, years ). 

The Boy— the creature— his voice echoes from somewhere stage right: “Just remember that I’m stuck with you too. I’m stuck with you too…”

He closes his eyes.

.

When he opens them again, he’s sitting in a studio with a stiff, brittle sort of air about it that seems to encourage feelings of unease. He rises from his seat, hands in his pockets, posture poor but looking more certain of himself than he has the entire half-hour. “Thank you for your time and your… confidence in me.” His smile grows somewhat sharp. “I won’t let you down.”

The anticipated evaluations marked a crucial moment to your character’s idol progression. Teams A, B, and C, were slotted for the very first day of evaluations between over 30+ qualified trainees. With training reverting back to normal, your character, Kang Minseon, will receive an e-mail from Hydra Staff with the date and time for their formal interview. Dress code is business casual, and the interview place will take place in the Office Section of the building, led by Talent Consultant Jang Hei-ran and her team. They’ll be the ones relaying individual scores, remarks from personnel (CEOs, instructors, etc.), and as previously stated, providing next step strategies. It’s a hallmark moment that, admittedly, the company believes your character is ready for. The meeting will presumably last for half an hour or more, pending on dialogue.

𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐁 is met with hesitant stares, lengthy greetings to feel the emotions of each male presenting trainee. Heiran answers each sentiment with a leveled reply. “This team proved to be outstanding in terms of skill. From a listener’s perspective, we wish the rappers were given more parts; the foundation really came from them. Ultimately, the vocals cast a large shadow on the other teams; the ranges were consistent and quite appealing to the ear.” Her eyes light in excitement. “Personally my favorite team to watch.” The positive comments may warrant a smile, laugh, or brief response, then the leading assistant is quick to interrupt, “It was a strong overall performance; there were massive comments about how well the concept matched individual strengths. In light of such recognition, while practicing, the instructors gave us notes about all team practices. How do you feel working in a team?” They proceed with individual scores after given answers.

“The center position was quite befitting; the company saw a hunger beneath your glances that couldn’t go unnoticed.” Heiran nods along to her words, “It’s true, the tape we saw demonstrated acute dedication, and your several coaches raved about your skillset. It was eye-catching.” The consultant gives her own vetted opinion and looks briefly to the right for the assistant to carry on. “There is room for improvement, but it places you at an desirable mark. The survival project for male trainees under Wonder Nation you signed up has been accepted for entry, and we’re delighted to see you participate. With your scores, we’ve decided to place you as a brand option for the show; this goes towards any visual opportunities, from screentime to promotional footage. As your present consultant team, the best advice to give is to study your surroundings, know a teammate’s next step before their feet move. This outstanding score means the company will watch you with sharp precision during this project. We sincerely wish you the best luck.”

This task is for Kang Minseon! Formal Interviews traditionally go over more overview notes (skillset critique) and the extended trainee contract to highlight the need for discrepancy. Your character is now a Debut Candidate under 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 and will have access to the backdoor entrance of the company building, allowed mostly for artists and staff. In order to complete the Debut Preparation Task, players will have to:

SOLO: Write a complete thread (300+ words) about your character’s second interview. Take into account the results, potential debut news, feelings about meeting fellow contestants, and having to be on their best behavior. The interview will be between your character and two Hydra personnel in a private training studio located on the lower floors of Hydra’s main building. Earn 25 POINTS to increase any skill on their point page or choose to collect.

Be sure to tag threads with #hd:tasks & #hd:eval! The deadline for threads/point submissions is February 13, 2023. Please, do not post mod submission until thread is completed. The thread should be placed above the divider and under a ‘read more’ if not already placed.

#✧ –––– featuring ... kang minseon. #hd:tasks #hd:eval #@ the mods: thank you sm for your hard work ♡♡♡

[150alex170]

Remenber:War of the son-review

The first show that I have finished this year is Remember: War of the son. The drama had aired from December 9, 2015, to February 8,2016 on SBS. It’s a South Korean thriller television series which consists of 20 episodes.

The story follows Jin-woo which has the condition of Hyperthymesia (an ability that allows people to remember every event of their life in great detail) who becomes a lawyer in order to prove his father’s innocence, who is accused of raping and murdering a student. Jin-woo faces the obstacles to reach his goal and at the same time he battles his own declining memory due to Alzheimer.

The show presents the darker side of the law. It realistically portrays the in and outs of a court related to judges, lawyers, detectives, prosecutors etc. which aren’t always behaving in an honorable way. These individuals who should offer justice to the victims can be bought, corrupted, and used by people in power to hide their wrongdoings. Witnesses can be brought, and evidence fabricated, and you can’t say for certain which is real, and which is fake. It is the poor people that can be used as scapegoats for the crimes of others. And this is the situation in which Seo Jin-hyuk finds himself in.    He is accused of the murder of a student because he happens to be at the wrong place and time. We see how the whole case is orchestrated against him and even his lawyer, Park Dong-ho is convinced to sabotage the case (although he regrets what he has done).

The true culprit of the crime, Nam Gyu-man is an interesting character, with his anger management issues and cruelty, but at times you feel sorry for him. He is the driving force of the show, not only as the instigator of the crime, but also for the problems that he keeps creating. The only altruistic action from his part is when, at the end, he encourages his sister to leave. For Gyu-man the phrase that can apply is “Evil is not born, it’s made”, and in his case it’s his own father, Nam Il-ho. If for Gyu-man you might feel occasionally sympathy, his father is the real monster of the show. Cold and calculating, he treats people like objects, to be discarded once they no longer serve a purpose, a lesson that he had passed down to his son. There aren’t many characters in the story that haven’t been affected by his actions, even his own children. He never acknowledges his daughter, Nam Yeo-kyung and Nam Gyu-man seems to be important to him only as his heir to the company, but he never tries to understand him or show any affection.

The show was well paced, the action didn’t go to fast or to slow, there wasn’t a moment in which you could get bored, although at the beginning of the show, you might feel helpless, because the bad guys kept winning and you start to wonder when they will lose, but after the first trial of Seo Jae-hyuk, things are more balanced.

The actors do a fantastic job with the material they are given. I especially enjoyed the characters of Nam Gyu-man, Seo Jin-woo and especially Park Dong-ho. I previously discussed why I found Gyu-man an interesting character. Jin-woo starts as a naïve high school student with an unusual condition, he puts his faith in the wrong people and is betrayed. During the course of the show, he transforms into a confident lawyer, that uses his talents to bring down Gyu-man. Even though he suffered a lot, he doesn’t lose his compassion and the ability to empathize with other individuals that have been wronged or sometimes bribed by the Il Ho Group. He has a more practical approach to problems and isn’t afraid to use blackmail when the situation asks for it. Ultimately, my favorite character is Park Dong-ho. He starts out as a confident and cocky guy (the most expensive lawyer in town), who sometimes uses dodgy means in order to win cases but ends up as accepting potatoes as payment from his clients. To see his journey is truly fascinating. He accepts to help Jin-woo because, he sees a lot of himself in Jin-woo. Although he is emotionally manipulated by Suk Joo-il (a father-figure), he never stops taking care or being loyal to Jin-woo. His devotion towards Jin-woo goes beyond the 50,000 won contract that they signed. Dong-ho is both a brotherly and mentor figure towards Jin-woo, certainly when approaching his cases, Jin-woo has adopted a part of the tactics used by Dong-ho. Jin-woo also has an impact over Dong-ho, he starts to apply Jin-woo’s principals when taking cases, he no longer is interested in money but to help unfortunate people to get justice in court.

There are 2 points that I wasn’t particularly fond of. Jin-woo suffering from Alzheimer isn’t a realistic approach. Because Jin-woo has Hyperthymesia it is actually less likely that he will suffer from Alzheimer, especially at 22 years old. Alzheimer is a disorder that slowly destroys memory and thinking skills and some preventive methods is maintaining a continuous intellectual activity. It isn’t realistic from a medical point of view. From a narrative point of view, it might make sense, since it creates tension of whether or not Jin-woo will be capable of seeking justice for his father. It is a tactic used in many K-dramas to create suspense. And it can also relate to the idea that in order to get what you want a price has to be paid and losing his memory is the price that Jin-woo has to pay. And it is ironic, because his memory has been one of his great skills in trying to solve his cases and to take that, it is a blow to him.

The other thing that disappointed me is the trial of Nam Gyu-man. The whole show builds to this moment, when Gyu-man is brought in a trial to be punished for his crimes, and the trial is finished in like 10 minutes, all that built up for nothing. I get that all the evidence has been brought up at some point during the show and there isn’t something new, but at least they could have made the trial a little longer, since this is the moment of triumph for our heroes.

The ending is an open one. Jin-woo who develops Alzheimer decides to quit his job as a lawyer and disappears from everybody’s life, since he doesn’t want to be a burden. He is discovered a year later by one of his friends (girlfriend for the last 3 episodes), In-ah, but he isn’t capable to recognize her.

Overall, I did enjoy this drama, it presented an interesting take on the judicial system. The characters were interesting and well written, and the acting was superb. The pace was just right, you wanted to come back for more.

#remember war of the son #korean drama

[tangleweave]

@brooklynislandgirl​ (xx)

Vision's efforts towards perfecting the sauce continue unabated while Beth pontificates on how her relationship with Groot was first established. He finds no particular offense in her putting forth the context of their first meeting, though he understands why she offers her apologies in doing so; he knows that she still feels guilt, shame, for not being on the Wakandan battlefield during Thanos' inexorable march towards him, intent upon ripping the Mind Stone from his forehead and completing the collection upon his gauntlet. Yet there is no evidence to suggest she could have stopped him, not when he had five of the six Infinity Stones already at his beck and call. No other had been able to do so. Even Thor, bearing the full might of Stormbreaker and burying its massive blade in Thanos' chest, had ultimately not stopped him. These are facts which exist, and although the records and data remain a part of him, Vision retains no emotional connection to those moments. It is merely a fact that the life of his prior self was put to an end when the Mad Titan's fingers crushed his frontal lobe.

His experience with emotion as a part of his integrated self begins, instead, with the moments following the release of the encryptions upon that data, thanks to his Hex-bound counterpart. And the first emotion he can recall is relief -- relief that he was allowed to be whole (inasmuch as he could be, without the Mind Stone). That the other Vision offered to make him so, when there should have been no reason for him to. Followed by confusion, and an overpowering need for flight... because there was no longer a reason for him to fight.

All of this, he considers in the hesitant span following the word 'Snap'. And he studies her face intently as she goes on to describe how she perceived the terrible silence and loss that followed in the minutes, days, weeks, and years afterward. Her capacity for emotion wildly outpaces his own, and hers lend such nuance and depth to the way she speaks that Vision is certain if he were human, he would be welling up with tears in sheer sympathy with her. He is working on understanding what he feels and how to manifest those feelings appropriately, and Beth is a capable teacher, but at this stage he feels burdened by confusion as to why she would smile when she addresses the revelation that no other could understand Groot but her.

As she continues to tell the tale, Vision is struck by how her answer has evolved from his initial question. What she offers him in reply is far more than how she would define her relationship with the Flora colossus; rather, it speaks to the shape of the life they shared, when neither could any longer stand to be on Earth. He does pick out that she wouldn't have characterized it as a romance back then, at least not in the sense most would understand it. Rather, it was companionship hard-earned through shared trauma. It is a story that is at once precious and devastating in its retelling. And now? Perhaps there remains no romance, but when she moves beyond explaining the effects of that trauma upon them, and speaks of how their relationship was built, Vision cannot help but concur by both the tone of her voice and the look on her face that what she feels for Groot is love, unvarnished and unrepentant.

He knows the kinds of questions some of the others would be thinking and yet afraid to ask. Surely Beth does, too... but Vision is not a gossip, and moreover, he has no one with whom to share what he gleans. It is purely for his own edification -- and unlike most, he feels no particular need to know just how Beth and Groot choose to express their love to one another. It is a mundane curiosity, in any event, and he elects instead to close the door upon speculation by waxing poetic to himself. Whether union of heart and sap or betrothal of flesh and vine, it is love unbounded... and that is all.

His interest lies in other places.

"Given that the emotional toll was so staggering for you both, and that he was able to show you all these wonders far beyond this world, one cannot help but be curious why you would be drawn back. But my sense tells me there would have been no more crucial moment in all of history for the both of you to wish to be here... than the day of the Blip." He levels his gaze at her. It is not beyond the realm of possibility -- nor even, he estimates, beyond any probability -- that Dr. Strange would call upon every ally possible to assist the Avengers in that climactic battle against the time-traveling Thanos and his armies.

"What, then, became of you and Groot, and the nature of your association, in the time that followed? Your planters here are rife, but I note not a one of them bears any remnant of him, nor have I seen him, nor any report thereof, since my reactivation. And... should he return, and invite you to join him once again among the stars... would you go?"

#brooklynislandgirl #beth riley #muse: white vision

[subbykboys]

new to this | taeyong

↳ pairing : virgin!taeyong x reader

Genre ➞ pure smut oof

Warnings ➞ sub!taeyong, corruption kink, begging, mild degrading, handjob, fingering (m. receiving), public-ish(?), mild choking, running into walls

Word Count ➞ 8.3k

requested by @ninachocoo

posted ; 3.08.21

Hot. God, it was so hot. 

Then again, summer in your part of town always was. But this heat— this heat was different. It surrounded you, pulling perspiration from your pores and clinging to you persistently. It spilled down your throat, filling your lungs with every deep inhale. It robbed you of any and all of your energy, leaving you too tired to rouse yourself from where you lay on the cool tile floor of your kitchen in front of the open fridge (the absolute coldest spot you could find in your entire house). 

You didn’t cope very well in warm weather, if that wasn’t obvious. 

And, at the cost of your poor housemate’s sanity, you always found new and creative ways to cope with the excruciating rise in temperature, 

“Y/n a few of my— how many times do I have to tell you to stop doing that?!” You couldn’t bring yourself to so much as flinch as the fridge door was abruptly slammed shut, only managing to pull a whining complaint from the back of your throat as your only source of cool air was ever so rudely ripped away. 

“Fuck you, Mark. It’s too fucking hot to worry about the stupid electricity bill.” You huffed, peeling your eyes open just long enough to shoot an icy glare in the direction of the scowling brunette. 

He crossed his arms over his chest stubbornly, lower lip jutting out. “I think you forget that it’s a combination of both of our money going into paying them, so I think that I have a right to worry about how much is coming out of my pocket because you think that laying in front of an open fridge is a good way to ‘beat the heat’.” 

“Offer me a better solution, I’m open to suggestions.” You sighed tiredly. 

He only rolled his eyes. 

“Oh! I’ve got one,” you exclaimed suddenly, clapping your hands together as a gasp of excitement flew from your lips, “How about I just strip down and walk around butt ass naked? That should do the trick! Oh… but little Mark would like that a little too much, wouldn’t he?” You offered him a taunting pout, feigning sympathy as you glanced down unabashedly towards his crotch. 

Instinctively, his hands flew to cover himself as his cheeks throbbed a devastatingly obvious shade of red, bright enough to rival even the ripest of tomatoes. “Y–you—” 

Your lips curled with an amused smirk, but it faltered at the sound of thundering laughter coming from behind your flustered housemate. Your eyes followed the sound, finding its source in a group of about five or so men crowding up the foyer. Brows lifting in mild surprise, you shifted your attention back to an even more humiliated looking Mark. 

“You brought company.” An apology hung at the tip of your tongue. You really tried to keep your pg-13 teasing to a minimum around other people, especially knowing how susceptible Mark could be to his own embarrassment. 

“Hey Mark, I thought you said your roommate was a raging asshole with the sex drive of a teenaged boy on viagra? She seems pretty cool to me! And hot.” One of the taller boys chimed, a massive dopey grin plastered across his face. 

You turned to Mark slowly, brows raised. But he wouldn’t meet your eyes, head lowered. He wasn’t good at hiding his guilt. 

Welp. No apology for ole Marky boy today. 

“Please, allow me to properly introduce myself to our company.” Mark's eyebrows jumped all the way to his hairline as you pushed yourself off the floor and tossed an arm around his shoulder. “My name is (y/n), but I suppose Mark's asshole roommate with the sex drive of a teenage boy on viagra could work, too.” 

The look you shot him out of the corner of your eye had him shrinking in on himself, regret shining in his big brown eyes. But, you ruffled his hair, a silent reassurance that you weren’t all that torn up about the comment, especially considering it was hard to deny the layer of truth that lingered within it. 

You’d probably subjected Mark to more than his fair share of sleepless nights while you were up into the early morning giving the man (or woman) of the night the experience of a lifetime. A few scathing comments to close friends was more than understandable when looked upon in that light. Besides, you were never good at holding a grudge against your sweet, awkward, puppy-eyed housemate. 

The tall one that had spoken before chimed in eagerly, “I’m Yukhei, but my friends call me Lucas. Xuxi works, too. Or papi if you're feeling especially— ow!” Lucas yelped loudly as a hand connected to the back of a head with a sharp smack. You watched in amusement as another tall, charming looking man tugged him back, shooting him a warning glare before turning his attention to you. 

“Ignore him. He has a bad habit of forgetting his manners around attractive women. My name's Johnny, it’s great to finally meet you.” The sweet, disarming smile he offered you had any reservations melting away, and you easily returned the gesture before he proceeded with introductions. “This Haechan, Jaehyun, Doyoung, and— Taeyong?” 

Johnny pivoted around, brief confusion settling across his face before he spotted whoever he’d been looking for. Reaching behind Lucas, he grabbed someone's arm, tugging them into your line of sight. 

“And this is Taeyong!” He concluded with a grin, slapping a large hand down on the shorter boy’s shoulder. Taeyong dipped his head shyly, not meeting your eyes as he murmured a soft greeting that you were just barely able to catch. Soft tufts of dirty blonde hair fell over large brown eyes as he bowed politely, the air of meekness unmistakable. 

Oh, he’s cute. 

Your lips curled into an impish smirk. “Hi, Taeyong.” 

A faint blush darkened his cheeks and you caught a hint of a smile upturning the corners of his mouth. 

Really cute. 

Mark knew you well enough to see the gears beginning to turn in your head and coughed loudly when your stare lingered longer than necessary.

“O-kay, now that you’re all acquainted…” he stepped in swiftly, opting to intervene before you could get any wise ideas about his friend. “We have got a group project to work on and it would be extremely helpful if you’d refrain from providing any distractions. I already have a hard enough time trying to get them to focus for longer than five minutes as is.”

“Aww but I wanna hang out with your hot roommate, Mark.” Lucas whined loudly, practically throwing himself across Mark’s shoulders as the cutest pout you’ve probably ever seen fell across his lips. “She’s got a way nicer ass than any of you guys.” 

Doyoung sighed, his face screwing in second hand embarrassment for his friend’s shameless behavior. “Lucas, please.” 

“Have some dignity, man.” Haechan huffed additionally and you grinned in amusement as he grabbed the collar of Lucas’s shirt and began tugging him towards the living room. 

“Don’t worry, Mark. I’ll stay out of the way. I would hate to hinder your geek fest.” You teased, wrinkling your nose as you stepped past him. 

“Thank you, (y/n). I really— wait, Geek f– it’s a project worth thirty percent of our final grade!” 

“To-may-to, to-mah-to.” You waved a dismissive hand over your shoulder, before pausing briefly. Spinning on your heels, you turned back to face 

the cute boy, who visibly jolted the moment your attention landed on him. “It was very nice meeting you, Taeyong.” 

“Y- you, too.” He stuttered sweetly and you had to fight the overwhelming urge to reach over and pinch those adorable pink cheeks. Either pair. 

With one last sultry smile, and a wink just to fuck with Mark a little, you sauntered back into your bedroom. Miraculously, you were no longer concerned with the previously unbearable heat plaguing your apartment. Now, you had something —or rather, someone— far more interesting to occupy your mind. 

Taeyong was having a difficult time focusing, which was pretty out of ordinary. He had barely gotten anything done with his assigned part of the project, less than half a page filled out with what little information he managed to collect. Luckily, none of the other guys seemed to notice, too distracted by their own inabilities to focus to take notice of his. Otherwise he would have to concoct some lie. But he wasn’t good at lying. He was a terrible liar, in fact. So he would probably just end up blurting out the truth which was you. You were the reason he couldn’t focus. You with your mischievous eyes and your pretty smile and intoxicating laugh. Mark’s asshole roommate with the sex drive of a teenage boy on viagra. 

He’d seen pictures of you before. But they didn’t do you any justice. In pictures, you were pretty. In real life, you were beautiful, charming, witty, sexy, and you winked at him. Girls don’t wink at him. Not ever. But you had. You’d winked and smiled at him and he wasn’t sure if you were just teasing him because he flustered easily or if there was a chance it meant something a little more than that. 

… he secretly hoped it meant something a little more than that. 

But he shouldn’t be thinking about you right now. He should be thinking about finishing his research. Not your eyes. Not your smile. Not your voice of the way you purred his name and those shivers rushed down his spine and he could have sworn something twitched— okay. That’s enough. He really needed to splash some water in his face, cool down a little before his mind wandered to places it definitely should not. 

“Ah— Mark?” 

The younger boy lifted his head, brows raising. “’Sup?” 

“Where’s the bathroom?” 

He perked, tipping his chin forward. “Oh, it’s to the right of the k— shit, wait. That toilet’s busted. Um, just use the one in my room. It’s at the end of the hall.” 

“Thanks,” Taeyong pushed himself up with a soft grunt, nearly tripping over Yukhei’s long legs as he maneuvered himself around the cluttered coffee table, “I’ll be right back.” 

None of the other guys took much notice of how quickly he rushed out of the room, much to Taeyong’s relief. He let out a low breath the moment he turned the corner and found himself in a vacant hallway, but that relief was short lived. 

Mark had only said that his room was at the end of the hall. But, there were two doors at the end of the hall. Meaning one of them could possibly lead to your room. And you were in your room. Which meant if he walked through the wrong door on accident… he could walk in on you. Oh god. Heat rushed into his cheeks at the mere thought of such a humiliating occurrence. For a moment, he debated turning on his heels and returning to the living room. 

But, he wasn’t ready to go back to studying just yet. He was still feeling flushed and antsy and needed another moment or two to himself. Plus… he was actually starting to need to pee a little. Damn him and his tiny bladder.

Hesitating, he gently knocked on the door on the right side of the hall then waited ten seconds. No response. Just to be extra certain, he knocked twice more before finally turning the knob. Cautiously, he peeked his head inside. The black out curtains were drawn tight so the room was dark, too dark to make out anything defining outside of the vague shape of a bed and dresser tucked into the far corner. It took a few minutes of stumbling blindly through the inky blackness, tripping over clothes and extension wires until he found what he hoped to be the bathroom door. 

Without too much of a second thought, he opened the door. 

Then he froze. 

He thought it was Mark’s room. He really did. He thought he was tripping over Mark’s clothes and Mark’s wires. Though, he probably should have noticed the light coming out from beneath the bathroom door, indicating that someone might be inside. Or maybe he did but ignored it because– because maybe Mark just left the light on. That could have happened. That totally could have happened. 

But it didn’t. 

Because it wasn’t Mark’s room. Those weren’t his clothes or his wires and he didn’t leave the light on. 

He realized this all too late of course. Because now he was staring at you. You who was wet and naked and… wet and naked. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. He could only stare, dumbstruck, mind short circuiting as billowing steam curled around the shape of your body like an iridescent veil, beautiful skin glistening under the soft golden light. Your head was tipped back, lips slightly parted, hands soothing your slick hair out of your face as the hot water cascading down the swells of your 

breasts and over the curves of your shoulders.

It was like watching something out of a pornographic shampoo commercial. 

“Oh—” it was somewhere between a whine and gasp, strangled and broken by the time it escaped his trembling lips. It was so quiet, you shouldn’t have been able to hear it over the hiss of water. So it took him off guard when your eyes opened and flicked in his direction. 

He flinched, body jolting backwards like it intended to make a break for it, but it was like your stare locked him into place. His brain was screaming at him to do something; to move, to  turn away, close his eyes, apologize, bash his head against the freaking wall, literally anything but stand there staring at you with his mouth open like a complete idiot. But he couldn’t. 

The corner of your mouth curled, forming into a downright devilish smirk that sent hot tendrils of desire spiraling through his veins. Then you quirked a brow and it was like a burst of electricity bringing him back to life. His hands flew up from where they’d been frozen at his sides, slapping so hard over his eyes that he yelped in shock at the sting. 

“Ohmygod I- I am so sorry! I am so—” he whirled around, spewing high pitched apologies as he scrambled for the door. Only, his eyes were closed so instead of bolting out the door he face planted into the wall next to the door. “Ow!” 

Your low laughter rippled through the small bathroom and red hot embarrassment raced up his neck and into his face. He could only whimper out one finally strained apology as he clutched his throbbing nose and stumbled back into the darkness of your bedroom, slamming the door sharply behind him. 

By the time he’d managed to scramble back into the hall, Taeyong felt like he was on fire. His heart was beating wildly in his chest and he was certain if he dared to look in a mirror he’d be the equivalent of a tomato. 

Humiliation gripped at his throat, squeezing painfully around his airway every time he recalled the previous events. He’d never be able to face you again. Not after that train wreck. Not ever. Groaning distraughtly, he sank against the wall, silently wishing that the floor would just swallow him up and put an end to his suffering.

But, there was something worse than the embarrassment. Something hotter and harder, throbbing shamelessly in the confines of his suddenly far too jeans. He saw you naked— wet and naked, looking like a freaking goddess beneath the stream of hot water, soap suds still clinging to your skin. He had never seen a woman like that before. Not in person, at least. And none as beautiful as you. 

Biting his lip, he squeezed his legs together, trying his best to will away his progressively hardening erection. That, of course, did not work. And it didn’t help in the slightest that every time he so much as blinked, the image of you in the shower came rushing to the forefront of his mind, still fresh and vivid and devastating. 

Oh god. There was no was no way he could go back to working on the project now. If he thought he was being unproductive before— he probably wouldn’t be able to get a single legible word written with the image of you and your body burned into the back of his eyelids. 

He was doomed. 

And he still needed to pee. 

Damnit. 

It was about nine at night when the low voices transformed into booming laughter, the walls practically vibrating under the barrage of stomping feet. It didn’t take a genius to deduce that they’d finished up on their project— either that or they mutually reached the end of their attention spans. 

Regardless, you were bored of remaining cooped up in your bedroom merely for the sake of your roommate’s econ grade and needed to stretch your legs a bit. Not to mention you were beginning to crave something greasy and unhealthy. You were almost certain the group of college boys lounging in your living room wouldn’t be opposed to some pizza, fries, and milkshakes from your favorite delivery place. 

“I don’t know about you boys but I’m starving!” You sang brightly as you all but skipped into the room. All eyes swung to you, wide and stunned as they watched you waltz over to where Mark sat in the love seat and throw yourself into his lap like it was the most normal thing in the world. He grunted under your weight, lip curling in annoyance but wrapped his arms securely around your stomach nonetheless. You pretended not to notice the lingering eyes of one particular boy, meticulously curled into the farthest corner of the couch. “Anyone down to order?” 

“Ugh please!” Yukhei exclaimed, throwing his head back dramatically. “I am dying of hunger.” 

The others were eager to voice their own agreement and you turned to Mark with an expectant smile. “Rubio’s?” He asked, already reaching for his phone. 

“Read my mind.” You hummed, pinching his cheek until he hissed and swatted you away. 

It was nothing short of chaos trying to get everyone’s orders, multiple overlapping voices making it hard to discern exactly who was asking for what, but somehow Mark managed to place all of the requests with only a handful of difficulties. Well, all but one. 

“Taeyong.” 

The boy’s head jerked up so fast at the sound of his name that you were surprised you hadn’t heard something crack. Up until then he’d been sitting quietly with his knees to his chest, staring at his feet, pointedly avoiding looking in your general direction. He could only hold your gaze for a few tense seconds before his cheeks flamed and he dropped his eyes. 

“I– uh– y- yes?” He coughed, blinking hard. 

You tilted your head, offering him an innocent smile. “Is there anything you’d like to eat?” You couldn’t stop yourself from adding an unnecessarily suggestive pitch to the question, words dancing wickedly across your tongue. 

Taeyong swallowed and pulled his knees tighter to his chest. “I– I’ll just have some of the- the pizza.” The words tumbled clumsily out of his mouth and your grin only widened as he became more and more flustered under the heat of your persistent stare. 

“Perfect. Then we can share.” 

The poor boy nearly choked on air when you abruptly pushed yourself off of Mark and sauntered over to where he sat, squeezing in between him and an eager Yukhei, who was more than happy to make room for you. His entire body went rigid, brief panic shooting across his features as you made yourself comfortable. It was tight with Jaehyun, Lucas, Taeyong and now you all squished onto the couch, so you were practically flush against him, shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh. You pretended not to notice that he was holding his breath. 

“Thirty minutes.” Mark announced, shutting off his phone and shoving it back into his pocket. 

“What should we do while we wait?” Jaehyun asked, ignoring Yukhei as he whined about how he’d be dead of starvation before the food even arrived. 

“Movie?” Haechan suggested. 

You perked. “I know a good one.” 

“No— no.” Mark cut in quickly, pointing a finger with the intention to reprimand in your direction. “Every time you pick a movie it’s either fucked up or really fucked up. So no.” 

“Don’t be a pussy, Mark.” You huffed, wrinkling your nose at him. “Just because you don’t like horror movies doesn’t mean your friends don’t.” 

“I, for one, love a good horror movie!” Yukhei remarked, a smug grin breaking across his lips as he shot a flirtatious wink in your direction. 

Haechan scoffed. “Bullshit! You couldn’t sleep alone for a week after we watched The Shining. And that wasn’t even scary!” 

“There was a tidal wave of blood.” He grumbled defensively, crossing his arms over his chest as he slumped, lower lip jutting out dramatically.

“No tidal wave of blood is this one, promise.” You snickered, snatching the remote from the cluttered coffee table and switching on the television. It only took a few minutes of browsing through Netflix before you finally located the movie you’d saved to your watch list a few weeks ago but had never gotten the chance to watch. 

Marked hopped up to flick off the lights as you pressed play, any excited or nervous murmurs coming to a halt as the opening credits rolled across the screen. Beside you, Taeyong tensed, squeezing his legs even tighter to his chest. You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, not missing the nervous way he gnawed at his lower lip even in the darkness. 

“Not good with horror movies?” You hummed, nudging his knee. He flinched in surprise, eyes shooting over to meet yours before he quickly diverted his attention back to the screen. 

“No, not– not really.” He admitted weakly, clearing his throat. 

A playful smirk twirled onto your lips and you subtly leaned into him, whispering near his ear, “you can hold my hand if you get scared.” 

A fierce blush consumed his cheeks, illuminated by the soft grey light of the television. “I– I’ll be okay.” He coughed when his voice cracked and you chuckled under your breath, opting to cut the poor boy some slack… for now. 

The movie progressed with the usual eerie start before transitioning into something lighter, though the low hum of anticipation-building music never ceased. Even if at some point it became rather repetitive, you thoroughly enjoyed a good horror movie. Most of the time, they failed to meet expectations and you left feeling rather disappointed that your stomach hadn’t leapt into your throat any point throughout the film. However, every once in a while, you were pleasantly surprised. 

Now, was not one of those times. 

Boredom quickly settled over you as the plot developed, revealing itself to be almost identical to a number of horror movies you’d watched in the past. You slumped back in your seat, a subtle scowl staining your lips. But then… inspiration. Devious, unquestionably self indulgent inspiration that risked putting a certain someone in a possibly very awkward (but also very delightful) position. 

The slow slide of your eyes from the television over to the boy seated at your left revealed that not everyone found the movie to be boring and repetitive. Taeyong was practically trembling. He had both of his hands over his face, wide, uncertain eyes peeking out timidly from between his index and middle fingers. 

You had to sink your teeth into your lip in order to subdue the large grin threatening to break across your face. 

Fuck, he’s too adorable. 

Unable to resist, you allowed a curious hand to wander towards his leg. With a brush so subtle it could’ve been mistaken for a breeze, you traced a finger over the seam of his pants. But, with his senses on high alert, it wasn’t a sensation he missed. He jolted violently, head swinging in your direction. There was fear in his eyes, but it quickly melted into relief else once he realized it was you and not some demon. 

Then his eyes drifted to where your finger lingered, hovering over his clothed thigh, and the relief transformed into something else entirely. Something hot and shameful and desperate, something he tried to hide behind frantically fluttering eyelids and quivering lips. But it was unmistakable. 

You lifted your brows, a silent question swirling in your gaze. He swallowed, breath coming out in quick, shallow huffs as the unnameable emotion thickened inside of him, then he nudged his leg shyly towards you. The air you didn’t realize you were holding in your lungs rushed out in one quick exhale, a subtle smirk curling onto your lips as excitement swirled in your gut. Taeyong sucked his lower lip into his mouth as your open palm landed boldly on his lower thigh, fingers pressing gently into the clothed muscle just above his knee. 

For a few minutes, it remained there, not moving any lower or any high, simply resting on his leg and he found himself relaxing beneath your touch. The heat of your hand was a welcome –comforting, even– distraction from the horror movie that had progressed to the point in the plot where the reckless characters put themselves directly into the line of danger instead of taking the intelligent path that would help them avoid it all together. You could feel the tension returning to Taeyong’s muscles as suspense building music poured from the surround sound speakers. 

In a two sided attempt to both comfort and tease, you began gently massaging his thigh. His breath audibly hitched, gaze straying from the screen once more in favor of watching the slow, deliberate motion of your fingers squeezing around his leg. That alone was enough to set his long neglected desire to flames. It burned within him, hot and dangerous, turning his face a dark, flattering crimson. 

It was too much. He’d never been touched like this before. You weren’t even close to his crotch and he could still feel the distinctive hardening beneath the zipper of his jeans which were growing tighter and tighter with every passing moment. At this rate, he’d make a mess of himself before the movie even reached its climax. 

The mere thought of coming untouched was enough to make his head feel dizzy, a mixture of humiliation and heady lust licking at his nerves. 

He couldn’t believe he was feeling this way, in a room full of his friends no less. If one of them were to look over, even through darkness, it would be impossible to miss your hand laid across his lap or the feverish blush coating his face, illuminated by the dull light of the tv. 

Then, your hand shifted higher. It was a minute movement, couldn’t have been more than an inch or two. But it had his pulse spiking in his veins nonetheless, blood rushing downward. You gripped gently at the inside of his slim thigh, thumb tracing slow, calculated circles into the rough material of his jeans. He trembled beneath the teasing ministrations, jaw clenched to fight back the urge to moan as your curious touch wandered upwards once more. 

“Is this alright?” 

The question came unexpectedly, a sudden rush of warm breath hitting the curve of his throat. He sucked his lips into his mouth, shivering faintly at the low, rough sound of your voice, just quiet enough that none of the other men in the room could make it out. 

He offered a sharp, jerky nod, desperately heaving in deep breath through his nose. The corner of your mouth curled. 

“God you're shaking. Are you that sensitive? Or do you just get off on getting felt up in front of all your friends? How naughty.” You chuckled tauntingly, words borderline malicious. 

“I– I don’t— I’m not—” he swallowed, shaking his head frantically in denial of your words, despite the flames they ignited inside of him. 

“I think you are.” You purred, tracing your index finger lightly over his prominent bulge, eliciting a strangled moan from his trembling lips. He was fortunate enough that at the very moment the sound escaped, some ditzy bimbo began screaming her lungs out in the movie. Still, he slapped a hand over his offending lips, looking around frantically to see if anyone had heard his slip up. Luckily enough, it seemed they hadn’t. 

This was payback, he realized abruptly, this was payback for walking in on you showering. 

But even if it was— 

It felt too damn good. 

His head tipped back, hand surging to cover his burning face and stifle his whimpers as you suddenly gripped firmly at his clothed length. A low, appreciative hum thrummed through your chest as you felt him twitch, delighting in just how responsive he was to your touch. His thighs squeezed together, hips shuddering upwards as you mapped him out. 

The urge to set your teeth upon his neck was almost overwhelming, but you resisted only because it might draw some attention from the room’s other, currently oblivious, occupants. You doubted Yukhei would miss it, even if he was desperately hiding his eyes behind those astoundingly massive hands. 

But shit was it tempting. 

His pretty porcelain skin would look so good painted in varying shades of pink and red. So sweet and pure… you wanted to taint him. 

He couldn’t stop moving now, squirming and quivering in place. He was unraveling right before your eyes, and you were devouring it. What a sight… 

Warmth stirred in your belly, and you rolled your palm down. He jolted violently, then in the next second he was up on his feet. It happened so quickly that you nearly fell over, just barely catching yourself from falling into the spot he previously occupied. Yukhei shrieked in shock, throwing himself directly into Jaehyun’s lap. 

“Fuck, Taeyong! You almost gave me a heart attack!” Haechan shrilled, clutching a pillow against his chest. Instead of responding, Taeyong jerked forward, the movement sharp and robotic, like his body wasn’t quite caught up to his brain. 

“What are you doing?” Doyoung asked, squinting at him through the darkness. “And why do you look so—” 

“B- B- Bathroom!” Taeyong squeaked out abruptly. You could only watch with wide eyes and gaping lips as he proceeded to run out of the living room like his ass was on fire. 

“Movie must’ve freaked him out.” Johnny muttered. 

“It’s not even that bad.” Yukhei scoffed in a voice too high pitched for his words to sound believable, grunting when Jaehyun shoved him off of his lap. Noisy banter was quick ensue. Noisy and distracting enough for you to make a quick and silent escape without catching any of the other boys’ attention. 

“Taeyong?” You called softly, worry churning in your gut that you overstepped or upset him. “Tae, I’m sorry if I—” you gasped, words cutting off in your throat as a hand found your wrist and you were quickly tugged around the corner and into the unlit hallway. 

The motion was so unexpected you ended up tripping over your own feet, having to slam a hand against the wall to steady yourself. But it was only when you felt a rush of quick, warm breath against your face that you realized the position you’d gotten yourself into. Taeyong was standing in front of you, face flushed a feverish shade of red, faint perspiration glistening on his skin, and he was standing with his spine flush against the wall, effectively caged in by your body. And he was looking at you. 

Really looking at you. 

With the kind of eyes that had something tightening deliciously in the pit of your stomach, chills of excitement ricocheting through your veins. 

“Tae?” His name was less than a breath on your lips, laced with an unspoken question. He sucked his lower lip into his mouth, fluttering gaze dancing across your face. 

“I almost…” he swallowed, shivering voice tapering off as he became overwhelmed by the proximity. He could smell your shampoo, a subtle, smoky-vanilla kind of scent that made his head feel dizzy. “I almost c- came.” 

The corner of your mouth swirled, both amused and charmed by the way he whispered the word, tone so innocent and shy that the filthy meaning behind it almost became misconstrued in your head. 

“Do you want to come, Taeyong?” You asked quietly, jutting a knee forward to press between his thighs. He gasped, trembling lips silently caressing the shape of your name as his hands shot forward, clutching desperately onto the sides of your shirt. A shy nod was all he could muster, the words feeling far too dirty to say aloud. But you weren’t satisfied. 

“Say it.” You murmured, nose brushing against his. His breath hitched at the command, warmth flushing through his veins beneath the staggering heat of your dark, hooded gaze. “If you want it, say it. If you don’t, tell me now.” 

“I want it!” He said quickly, only to flush and shrink in on himself, taken aback by his own outburst. Licking his lips, he repeated himself in a much softer voice, “I– I want it.” 

You let out a low hum, curving a gentle hand around his jaw. “Can I kiss you?” 

A shock ran through his body, his wide eyes snapping down to trace to soft lines of your mouth. “Yes.” He breathed, suddenly desperate for a taste of your lips. You didn’t deny him. 

The first brush of your lips against his is light, delicate… teasing. It made his knees tremble, fierce anticipation and wild desire running rampant through him. He opened up for you like a goddamn flower in bloom, melting sweetly when you applied even the slightest bit more pressure. His mouth was soft and warm, his kiss shy. And there was something ever so endearing about the way he clutched at your top like it was the only thing keeping him upright. 

You kept the pace deliberately slow, relishing in the soft moans that fluttered from his chest as you sucked his lower lip into your mouth, gently sinking your teeth into the sensitive flesh. He was wracked by a violent full body shiver when you licked over the seam of his lip. 

God he’s adorable. 

His strong reactions made you wonder if he’d ever been kissed like this before. Or, perhaps, this was a new experience entirely. 

“Taeyong.” He whimpered when you abruptly broke away from the kiss, but you ignored it. “Are you a virgin?” 

His eyes widened, a deep red flooding his cheeks. Then, he nodded, gaze dropping to the floor as the tips of his ears darkened. 

Wicked excitement curled in your gut, heat licking at your veins at the thought of being the first to corrupt such a sweet… innocent… 

“Have you ever been touched before?” 

He shook his head, chest pressing against your with every jagged inhale he drew into his lungs. 

You dipped a hand between your bodies, trailing teasingly down his stomach. “Would you like to be touched?” Your voice had dropped at least an octave, a low, rasping whisper that nearly made him keen. 

“Yes.” A devious grin settled across your lips at the quickness of his reply. Didn’t even need to think that one over, huh? 

You slid your hand over his crotch, feeling his hips buck uncontrollably when you squeezed. “Just looking at you,” you began, toying with his zipper, “I never would’ve guessed what a little slut you are.” 

“I- I’m not a slut.” He whimpered, digging his fingers into your waist. 

“Aren’t you, though?” You popped the button of his jeans. “I mean, take a good look at yourself, Yongie; letting yourself get felt up and teased by your best friend’s roommate while they’re just in the next room over. Seems pretty slutty to me.” 

Taeyong couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped his chest at the degrading word, his cock twitching within the confines of his boxers. Slipping a finger beneath the elastic, you tugged it away from his skin, letting out a playful coo when his weeping pink tip peeked out. The blush on his face intensified tenfold, both of his hands dropping down instinctively to cover himself. But you were faster, snatching his wrists and pinning them against the wall on either side of his head. 

“Don’t even think about it.” 

Shivering, he offered a compliant nod. 

“Good boy.” 

He barely had time to form a reaction to the praise before he felt you around him, stroking and caressing. The responding moan that burst from his lips was loud— too loud. You were quick to cover his gaping mouth, successfully muffling the series of succeeding gasps and whimpers. 

“Careful, sweetheart,” you clicked your tongue, watching the way his eyes fluttered and rolled as you tightened your grip around his cock, “you wouldn’t want your hyungs to find out what a little slut you’re being, now would you? Mark was so kind, inviting you into his home… How do you think he’d feel if he were to see you taking advantage of his hospitality, getting your pretty little cock played with by his roommate? How shameless...” 

Taeyong whimpered, and you felt the gentle press of his lips against your palm, followed by a meek flick of his tongue. He was looking at you now, really looking at you, with the kind of pathetic, wanting eyes that never failed to make your skin burn in excitement. You wondered if you could make him cry, overwhelm him with pleasure to the point where he couldn’t keep his emotions at bay. The desire to ruin him was almost unbearable. 

Swirling your thumb over his tip, you slotted a leg between his, pressing up against him from underneath. He nearly keened at the pressure, hips rolling greedily over your thigh, simultaneously pumping his cock into your closed fist. Heaven, this must be heaven. Honestly, you hadn’t expected him to succumb to his desires so readily, with such… enthusiasm. But this Taeyong surprised you at every turn. You’d thought he’d be shy, reserved, hesitant to give in, but here he was, riding your thigh and fucking your hand like his life depended on it, his muffled moans pulsing beneath your palm. 

It’d be a flat out lie to say you weren’t beyond turned on. 

There was a slick warmth building between your thighs, soaking into the fabric of your underwear, and tight knots in your stomach, threatening to burst at any given moment. The knowledge that less than thirty feet away, your roommate and all his friends were gathered and one stray moan from the crumbling man before you could give away all the filthy things you were doing to him stroked the lustful flames blazing through your blood. One glimpse into those hooded, glassy brown eyes told you he was suffering from a similar burn. 

“Turn around.” You demanded, somewhat breathless as you tore your hands off of him. A low whimper escaped past trembling lips at the loss of stimulation, a shiver rippling down his spine as his hard, abandoned cock swung through empty air. Regardless, he was quick to comply, spinning himself around and pressing his palms flat against the wall. You hummed a praise, pleased with his eager compliance, rewarding him with your touch. He gasped, forced to sink his teeth into his lip to stifle his whimpers as your hands slipped over his body: one returning to stroke his dick while the other pushed beneath the material of his top, venturing up to his chest where your fingers set to toying with his sensitive nipples. 

“(y/n)—” he moaned your name desperately, rocking his body back against yours as overwhelming pleasure pulsed through his veins. 

“Easy, sweetheart,” you chuckled darkly, splaying a steadying palm across his hips as they began grinding back into yours, “you sound like you're about to burst.” 

He moaned, shuddering when you caressed his sensitive tip, and an idea struck you. 

“Can you do something for me, Tae?” You asked, voice a low, rasping against the shell of his ear. “Can you suck?” 

Any short lived confusion dissipated from his mind when he felt your fingers nudging at the soft flesh of his lips. A deep blush flooded into his cheeks, but his mouth opened nonetheless, shyly taking your digits inside. 

“There you go…” you purred, feeling his tongue lick delicately at the pads of your middle and ring finger. He sucked, and you lowered your head to press slow, encouraging kisses laced with whispered praises to the juncture of his throat. You felt the soft vibrations of his muffled moans quivering through your knuckles and against your lips. He was shaking, the stimulation to his cock causing violent tremors to wrack his body. He wasn’t far off from release, you could tell as much by the way he was twitching and the slow increase in volume of his sounds. 

But you weren’t finished yet. 

Not by a long shot. 

You pulled your fingers from his mouth, the suction of his lips giving with a lewd, wet pop. A filthy sound coming from such innocent lips. 

Leaning forward, you nipped gently at the shell of his red tinted ear, hand releasing his dick in favor of venturing beneath the hem of his pants. You heard his breath hitched and offered quietly, “Tell me if you want me to stop.” 

Taeyong nodded in understanding, but offered no resistance as you pushed the thick denim down over the soft curve of his ass. His shoulders jumped, a gasp shooting from his lips when you slid a saliva soaked finger between his cheeks, coming to the abrupt realization of what your intentions were. 

“O– oh—” 

“Is this alright?” 

He swallowed, glancing back at you from over his shoulder. “I– I’ve never…” 

You soothed a hand down the front of his thigh, “it’s okay if you don’t want to.” 

There was no judgement in your tone, rather a gentleness to the reassurance that put his buzzing nerves at ease. “That’s not it,” he shook his head, gnawing at the corner of his lip as a soft pink crept across his cheeks, “j– just…” 

“Just?” 

Taeyong drew in a deep, trembling breath. Your furrowed brows shot to your hairline, heat twisting in your gut as he suddenly bent himself over, sticking his ass out, practically fucking presenting himself to you. “B- be gentle…” he whispered shyly, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow. 

Steam would surely start coming out of your nose if your temperature rose any further. This is fucking ridiculous. How was it possible for a man to be so cute yet so sexy all at once? This couldn’t be good for your health… 

Smirking deviously, you settled a palm between his shoulder blades, pressing down ever so slightly and watching as he delicately arched his spine. “I’m always gentle.” 

A hiccuping moan rushed from his chest at the first careful press of your finger, his brows furrowing deeply as his muscles tightened in response to the foreign stretch. 

“Relax, sweetheart.” You reminded lightly, settling soothing kisses across his shoulder. He drew in a series of deep breaths, allowing himself to adjust to the sensation of having something inside of him while melting into the tender caress of your cool lips across his feverish skin. You felt the slow dissipation of tension, felt the way he melted beneath you. “There you go…” you cooed, easing into him until your knuckle before allowing him a few moments to adjust. 

He was panting, forehead thudding softly against the wall as his hips trembled, a strange but not unpleasant feeling sparking to life inside of him. 

“Oh…” it was a barely audible sound, soft and breathless of shuddering lips. But you didn’t miss it, didn’t miss the way his shoulders drooped, his walls tight relaxing ever so faintly around the intruding digit. The corner of your mouth curled upwards in a salacious smirk, and you curled your finger experimentally. 

His reaction was instantaneous, a moan of surprise entwined with unexpected pleasure rushing from his flush throat. He glanced back at you from over his shoulder, eyes wide and trembling, hazy with an emotion you immediately recognized as pure, unfiltered lust. Your grin widened, almost triumphant as you whispered, “feel that?” 

He nodded rapidly, a gasp of breath wracking his chest. “Yes,” his hands were curling into fists where they were braced against the plaster wall. 

“Wanna feel it again?” 

The sound he let out was a combination of several things, keening and desperate for the sensation he’d never before experienced. “Please. Please.” 

It was impossible to say anything but yes when he begged like that. 

You rewarded him by stretching him out around a second finger, his knees nearly giving out when you thrust them in as deep as they would go. He was an absolute mess, forced to slap a quivering hand over his gaping mouth when his teeth proved insufficient at keeping his sounds in. You were enjoying yourself perhaps a little too much, enjoying watching him slowly crumble, enjoying watching his innocence shatter into tiny irreparable pieces on the floor beside glistening drops of precum. He was just too irresistible… 

“You’re about to come, aren’t you?” He was nodding before you even finished the question, muffled moans and sobs escaping through his fingers as he fucked himself back onto yours. You curve a hand around the shape of his jaw, tugging his head back at an angle that surely causes a strain in his neck, and slot your lips into his. Shoving your tongue down his throat proves a far more efficient means of keeping him quiet. 

But when you curled your fingers inside of him, subsequently stroking that sensitive bundle of nerves, even your mouth wasn’t enough to stifle the shriek of pleasure that burst from his throat. You were hoping the screams you heard emulating from the other room were enough to drown it out. 

“Keep your voice down.” You all but snarled, curling a hand around his throat. 

“I- I can’t— oh god, it feels so g- good.” He babbled, voice strained from the sheer effort of trying to keep himself from crying out in bliss. “I’m g- gonna come— I’m gonna c- come—” the sound of him choking on his words, gasping for breath around the added resistance of your restricting hold was even hotter than you imagined it would be. 

“Gone on, sweetheart. Let me see you make a mess of yourself.” You kissed the shell of his ear, deciding then to have mercy and offer his pathetic, weeping cock a helping hand. He was finished the moment your fingers grazed his tip, struck with an orgasm so powerful it had his knees buckling beneath the weight of his quivering body. 

His jaw when slack, unleashing every pent up sound he’d managed to keep bottled up thus far. They came rushing out of him too quickly to stop, not that you made much of an effort. You were enjoying the way he was moaning your name like it was his saving grace far too much to care whether or not the other boys were hearing. In fact, the thought of them hearing their sweet, innocent Taeyong whimpering like a bitch in heat, moaning your name, gave you an unexpected rush of delight. 

You didn’t stop fucking your fingers into his tight little hole until you were certain you’d milked him for all he was worth, until he was reduced to little more than a trembling, whimpering mess against your chest, barely able to keep himself upright. 

“Oh my g- god.” He murmured shakily, head falling back to rest on your shoulder. 

A low chuckle slid from your lips as you gently released his spent cock, simultaneously pulling out of him. He winced faintly, whining weakly at the unpleasant emptiness that ensued. 

“That felt pretty good didn’t it?” You teased. 

He bit his lip, humming airily as he melted into your hold. 

“You’re a good boy, aren’t you, Taeyong?” Your words danced over the curve of his throat, flooding his senses with the fluttering implication. Blushing, he nodded, a shy bob of his head that caused the sweat soaked fringes of his bangs to fall over his eyes, clinging delicately to his pretty eyelashes. “Words?” 

“I—” he swallowed, gaze flitting as his face reddened further, “I’m a g- good boy.” 

You mouth curled deviously. Holding your come covered hand up to his panting mouth, you whispered against the shell of his ear, “good boys clean up their mess.” 

His breath hitched, wide eyes jumping over to meet yours. You held his gaze boldly, cocking an expectant brow. Then, ever so lightly, his tongue dipped out from between red bitten lips, kitten licking his come from your fingertips. You could’ve come right then and there, watching him shyly lap his own release from your hand. Honestly you would’ve been happy to stay like that all night, his tongue tracing the lines of your palm, caressing your knuckles… 

But then the doorbell rang, and someone cleared their throat in the other room. 

“Uh… foods here.” 

Taeyong leapt away from you with a gasp, flushing deeply as his hands flew to tuck himself back into his jeans. 

“D- do you think they—” his voice cracked and he coughed as crimson crept up his neck. 

You smirked, not in the least bit ashamed. 

“Oh, definitely.”

A/N; well i dropped off the face of the earth, sorry about that loves. but i think you’ll be happy to know that i have a number of wip sitting in drafts, should i tease the banners? 

#taeyong #lee taeyong #nct taeyong #taeyong smut #taeyong oneshot #taeyong fanfic #taeyong imagine #taeyong scenario #sub!taeyong #sub!nct #sub!idol #dom!reader #nct smut #nct imagine #nct scenario #sub taeyong #sub nct #taeyong x reader #kpop smut #sub!kpop #nct 127 smut #nct 127

[rubysunnday]

Favourite Brother

A/N: not gonna lie, I am terrified to post this because there is no established community for a bridgerton sister like there is with peaky blinders but into the unknown we go

Y/N Bridgerton is based off my own character who is Daphne’s twin sister (there’s a whole thing in my head as to why her name begins with a C, but i digress) and is, technically, the eldest daughter but is never seen that way. 

If she was being completely honest, making her debut into society at the same time as her twin sister was probably one of the worst things Y/N Bridgerton could have done. Ultimately, it was down to her mother to make the decision and no matter how much Y/N - and Eloise - begged for her to postpone her coming out for a year, her mother was insistent (Eloise’s begging had been so that none of the attention next season would be on her). 

Y/N knew that her first season out in society wasn’t going to go well. She had Daphne as a sister for heaven’s sake - despite being older than her by a whole five minutes (a fact her oldest brother, Anthony, seemed to keep conveniently forgetting) - Y/N Bridgerton was merely a twinkle compared to the explosion that was her twin sister.

The Queen had offered Y/N a most gracious remark alongside her sister but it felt as if it was merely to balance out the scales - as if she didn’t truly mean it.

But, deep down, she hadn’t wanted to believe that she was merely a cast off. That she was just Daphne’s sister and was nothing more.

Her first ball, however, solidified the feeling she’d had for a while. That she was nothing more than Daphne’s sister in the eyes of the ton. Daphne was the season’s diamond. Y/N was merely a geode waiting to be split open. Unassuming on the outside but magnificent on the inside. 

Y/N stared after her brother and Daphne as they wandered around the room, eyeing out appropriate suitors (which, according to Anthony, didn’t exist in that ballroom). 

“Dearest,” Violet said, placing a hand on her daughter’s arm, noticing her fury, “shall we go get some lemonade?”

Y/N had a childish urge to grab a cup of lemonade and pour it over her brother’s head but swallowed it down, forcing a pleasant smile to her face. She turned to her mother and nodded.

“Anthony means well -”

“Mother,” Y/N grounded out. She really did not want to talk about her eldest brother. 

“He means well,” Violet repeated, handing her daughter a glass of lemonade, “he’s just fiercely protective of you all.”

“Everyone except me, you mean?” Y/N corrected, giving her mother a hard stare. Y/N sighed and slumped against the wall. “I know he does,” she said quietly, almost not wanting to admit it. “But it’s almost as if he doesn’t realise I’m here.”

Violet nodded. “I know. But he wants the best for you - we all do.”

“Yet the best simply are not here in this ballroom tonight, are they?” Y/N countered, giving her mother a raise of the eyebrows. “He and Daphne are walking around the room, eyeing up every suitor in that room and where am I? Hiding at the back by the drinks table like a wallflower.”

Violet put a hand on Y/N’s arm in sympathy for there weren’t many words she could offer her daughter that would be of any comfort. She knew the feeling of being a wallflower all too well. 

“Y/N! Why are you skulking back here?”

It was almost as if a light switched on behind Y/N’s eyes at the sound of her brother’s voice. She turned and smiled at Colin as he, and Benedict, approached her, weaving through the ambitious mama’s and their debutantes and studiously avoiding making eye contact with any of them. 

“Anthony has eyes for Daff and Daff only,” Y/N replied, standing on her tiptoes to hug Colin and then Benedict. They’d inherited the Bridgerton good looks and the Bridgerton height. Something Y/N and her five foot four height was all too jealous of. 

Colin smiled sympathetically at his sister, knowing full well what she meant. He held out his arm to her, ever the gentleman. “Well, shall we go promenade around the room?”

Y/N giggled as she excepted Colin’s arm. She then looked up expectantly at Benedict who gave her the iconic Bridgerton smile (one Y/N had mastered too) and he offered his arm to her too. 

The three of them began a deliberately slow walk around the edge of the room.

“You do realise everyone’s looking at you?” Colin whispered, a cheeky grin on his face.

Y/N, for the first time that night, felt all the attention on her. Every suitor watched her as she passed by and all offered a smile. 

But, deep down, she knew she was second best. And she refused to settle for that. 

“Not that we’d let you pick any of them,” Benedict added quickly. “None of them are suitable.”

Y/N swallowed her urge to groan, counted to five in her head and looked at Benedict. “You sound just like Anthony.”

“Well, someone has to,” Benedict replied giving her a smile that had made many a woman swoon in the past.

She didn’t understand why. Well, Benedict was her brother. Whenever he smiled at her she just remembered the time he’d left a fish in her bed and she’d retaliated by leaving numerous frogs in his room. 

The sibling prank war of 1805 had been a dangerous one. Y/N had fallen down the stairs and ended up with a concussion and Benedict had ended up with a long, and loud, lecture from Anthony about the dangers of trip wires near staircases. 

“Oh, there’s Anthony and Daphne,” Colin murmured, noticing them on the other side of the room. 

“Daff!” Benedict called, all but dragging Y/N over to the,

Y/n, who’s arm was in Benedict’s, didn’t have much choice to follow and neither did Colin as Y/N wasn’t about to let her buffer leave anytime soon. 

Anthony looked up at them as they approached but his eyes narrowed slightly when he saw Y/N in the middle of them. 

“Have you been looking for suitors?” Anthony asked, his stare narrowing even more when he noticed someone eyeing Y/N over her shoulder. 

“Did Mother tell you yet?” Colin asked Daphne, saving Y/N from having to talk to Anthony and conveniently turning the conversation away from her. “I’m to start my tour in Greece.”

“Oh, Greece, that sounds wonderful,” Y/N said, both her and Daphne making a similar remark. Daphne and Y/N glanced at one another and giggled. 

Anthony’s eyes widened as he looked up. “On guard!”

It was an instant change. All five of them suddenly had anywhere else to be and they all turned around, fully intent on heading to literally any other corner of the room.

“No escape,” Colin muttered as they heard the formidable Lady Danbury’s cane hit the floor loudly.

“Too late,” Lady Danbury called. “I already noted you.”

Her words were followed by a loud thump of her cane. Startled, Y/N stepped back in Benedict and accidentally stood on his foot. She lost her footing, wobbled, and fell even further back into her brother.

Benedict, to his credit, let out a soft grunt as his sister impacted him, but then managed to right her and stand her back up on her own feet without drawing Lady Danbury’s attention.

“Lady Danbury!” Benedict, Anthony and Colin all greeted at once, all bowing in sync as if they were performing.

Y/N and Daphne curtsied slightly at the older woman. 

Lady Danbury’s eyes rested on the two girls. “I’ve yet to see either one of you on the dance floor,” she said, her eyes narrowing even more.

“We’re biding our time,” Anthony cut in. 

“We?” Y/N whispered under her breath, sparing Anthony a glare that would’ve turned lesser men to stone. 

Apparently Lady Danbury had heard that but, to her credit, said nothing. If anything her usually steely glare softened ever so slightly when she looked at Y/N. 

“You poor girls,” Lady Danbury muttered, shaking her head. “I always knew I liked you two for a reason,” she added, eyeing Daphne and Y/N as they both gave Anthony a disdainful, joint glare (one the two girls had hoped she’d missed but, as usual, Lady Danbury never missed anything.) “As for the rest of you.... hmmph.”

And with that, Lady Danbury vanished off to torture some other poor soul.

Benedict stared after her with an offended expression. “Hmmph? Hmmph?” He echoed. “Is that all she could come up with? Hmmph?”

Y/N smiled to herself. “She likes us,” she said, looking at Daphne with a smile. 

Daphne smiled back at her sister. “Yes, it would appear she does.”

Benedict grunted. “You can have her.”

Y/N elbowed Benedict in the ribs and her brother let out a rather loud grunt - one that had numerous nearby partygoers look over to wonder what was happening.

“For that, you can dance with me,” Benedict muttered, grabbing Y/N’s hand and all but dragging her away from the safety of Colin and Daphne and onto the dance floor.

“You hate dancing,” Y/N said as she struggled to keep up with her brother. she was suddenly spun onto the dance floor and somehow managed to keep her footing. 

Benedict put his arm on her waist and gave her a level stare. “I also hate being paraded around by our Mother,” he said, nodding his head behind him.

Y/N leaned past him and saw Colin being unwillingly paraded around the room by their Mother. Colin, ever the gentleman, was putting a smile on and greeting every single debutante. But he did look up at Benedict and Y/N and give them a very ungentlemanly glare.

 Y/N let out a very unladylike snort and laughed. Benedict rolled his eyes. 

The music began and the two began dancing around the obnoxious looking floral arrangement in the centre of the floor. Neither one said anything for a moment - focusing on the music and ensuring they were getting the steps right.

“Thank you,” Y/N said quietly. 

She’d noticed her mother, Daphne and Anthony leave a few moments earlier and whilst Daphne had given her a sister an apologetic look and her mother had ensured Colin was going to get her home safely, Anthony had marched off without a second glance.

Benedict frowned. He twirled Y/N twice and then resumed the proper position. “Whatever for?”

Y/N smiled up at him and for the first time that night, felt as if she was enjoying herself. “For being my favourite brother and saving the day.”

“I’m your favourite?” Benedict asked, tilting his head to the side in a curious gesture.

Y/N hit his arm. Hard. “Don’t ruin the moment,” she replied as the song ended.

They bowed to one another as the dance ended and then moved off the dance floor. Y/N suddenly wrapped her arms around Benedict’s neck and hugged him tightly.

Benedict, surprised by the sudden show of sibling love, slowly returned the hug with a confused expression. 

“Thank you for making this night worth it,” Y/N whispered in his ear. 

Benedict hadn’t been oblivious to the way Anthony glossed over his sister. Whilst it was probably unintentional - everyone knew that Anthony Bridgerton would die for his family - he hadn’t missed the hurt look in Y/N’s eyes. 

Benedict smiled and ruffled Y/N’s hair as best he could without messing up the intricate updo. “Always, sister.”

Colin, impeccable timing as always, then happened to walk into Y/N, backwards, almost dropped the lemonade he was carrying and ruined the entire moment. Y/N fell forward into Benedict and Benedict fell back a step trying to catch his sister and his brother. Benedict had then slapped Colin on the back of the head. 

But according to those around the ballroom, Colin had been clumsy on purpose to try and cheer up his sister. Which had worked. 

#bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton!sister #sister!reader #platonic imagine #bridgerton imagine

[believeitseeitdoit]

Legos and Language

Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Summary: All bets are off when it comes to a Lego mishap in the Rogers-Barnes home 

Rating: Y'all shouldn’t be reading the filthy things if youre under 18 anyways but this one is pretty PG (but language is the exception)

Warnings: Domestic stucky, suggested and slight smutty times, 90% fluffy, some foul language, talk of murder and destruction of legos forever, feel good shit, Steve, Bucky and their girl have babies

don’t steal my little munchkin oc names please, I like them 

This is written from each lover’s POV, marked by ******** this 

This is a work of love and hated of legos, solely to be read for a smile and maybe some happiness, be kind or go away

        “Sonofabitch!” Your hushed curse rattles through the house as you stomp barefoot through your son’s pile of a semi built lego creation. With a few breathy “fuck’s,'' you hop over to the nearest chair to rub the new soreness out. Sharp indentations litter the underside of your arch, and you peel off a flat piece from your toe then mentally plot unmonitored use of the quantum realm to murder the creator of legos before they can cause any harm to you again.

       Continuing your muttering, you delicately set your foot down and turn to the mess. You sigh in relief that you didn’t destroy any of the built chunk, you were only subjected to the ultimate test of parenthood, the loose pieces.

     “Back to our regularly scheduled morning, coffee.” You say to the empty room, narrating your routine as if you were running a sitcom. Once in the kitchen, you set about making a hefty pot of coffee for you and your husbands, humming an 80s rock tune and letting your open robe swish around you loosely in the process.

********

      They both notice you slide out of bed, a super spy and a retired Avenger don’t miss much in their own home. But rather than follow you down to the kitchen to disrupt your morning ritual, Steve pulls his husband against him and nuzzles his hair so they could get some quiet time of their own. A few moments later, Bucky is softly snoring against Steve’s arm, and Steve is on the brink of sleep when he hears a barely audible string of curses and the unbalanced thunking of feet along the hardwood. Bucky seems undeterred, so Steve leaves him be and slips out of the bed to investigate what caused the early use of language, not that he’s surprised considering their wife’s colorful vocabulary when the kids aren’t listening.

       Pulling his discarded boxers back on from the night before, Steve saunters out of the master suite silently toward the staircase. He pokes his head into the nursery to check on the sleeping infant twins, and heads down the old hardwood steps, praying for them not to creak with every step. Halfway down the stairs, he hears you filling the coffee pot under the tap and the chorus to a White Snake ballad quietly playing from the speakers while you hum along. With a smile and a small head bob as he catches the tune, Steve steps across the threshold of the stairs toward the living room and kitchen, unaware of the torture devices scattered on the floor.

      Steve intends to follow the wall to get to the kitchen without his presence known, until you hear a series of words that would make Tony blush and an unfortunate crunching sound of your son’s creation being smashed to bits.

     “SONOFAFUCKINGMONKEYSASSHOLE WHAT THE FUCKING DICK ON A STICK GOD DAMN PIECE OF TORTUROUS BULLSHIT IS THIS?!!” He yelps loudly and tries to hop over the new graveyard of legos.

     In his fresh misery, he misses you quickly dropping the coffee grounds onto the counter top and hustling toward him to make sure his verbatim doesn’t wake the twins. As you begin shushing him from a few steps away, Steve hobbles blindly toward your voice and you see it happen before you can say anything. Your big clutz of a husband smashes his un-assaulted foot through your son’s Legos, only this time Captain America is not the star spangled man with a plan. He has absolutely destroyed the near complete firetruck and you can only stand in awe at his ability to hit each remaining chunk of the build before he finally makes it to the couch.

     “Fuck fuck fuck fuck, why the fucking legos? FUCK!” His wailing is not going to gain any sympathies from you, only entertainment at the weaknesses of men.

     “Steven Grant, you shut the hell up before you wake my babies or I WILL send Bucky to the store and you can have twin duty alone.” Sitting down at his feet to pull the pieces off his skin, you scold him lightly but without any venom or intention. He hisses as you pull the flat plastic off his big toe, and you chuckle as his pathetic whimpers cease.

     “So, coffee?” You stand and pull him up with you toward the kitchen, letting his calloused hands and leftover cologne embrace you like a blanket as he leans down to caress your cheek. He kisses your forehead and softly brushes hair behind your ear with one hand while the other grips your plush hip under the loose robe.

     “Maybe something sweeter to distract me first? This robe is teasing me.” His lips ghost down your neck and he nips at your collarbone while pulling the thin silk off your shoulders.

     “You kept me up late, baby. I need coffee before anything today.” You whisper breathily against his tanned, thick chest, whimpering and shivering as you feel him trace the marks littering your skin and gently squeezing the flesh he is so obsessed with.

     He allows you to pull away only after you shudder again, but he stands behind you, hands locked onto your hips as you pour the bitter amber liquid into 3 mugs. Steve’s love bites on your neck keep you distracted long enough for Bucky to come down the stairs without being noticed.

     “I thought we agreed there was no third wheeling in this family, and yet here we are.” Your bonus husband is perched against the refrigerator offering your favorite coffee creamer and his signature pout.

******

     Bucky is roused by his husband rolling out of bed and the accompanying coolness that surrounds him as the sheets flutter back down against the mattress. He listens to Steve pad lightly down the hall to check in on the kids, Hudson in his room first, then Charlotte and Talia in the nursery.  As the footsteps recede down the stairwell, Bucky lets his body sink into the bed and the scents of his partners surround him and lull him back to sleep.

     Until he hears a string of words leave his husband’s mouth, and a series of crunches and shattering sounds buried under more very inappropriate words. Now wide awake, Bucky shoves himself from bed and puts a loose sweatshirt over his head while he walks toward the stairs. He is halted by a whimper from one of his little twins in the nursery, but his ever present super senses note that both babes are still firmly asleep so he continues down the steps.

       Not sure of the state of things on the main floor, Bucky alertly scopes the space and finds their son’s legos strewn about the floor. With a sigh, Bucky steps around them and shakes his head as he follows the sounds of his husband and wife to the kitchen. He is met with tangled hair and soft pants, an open robed woman more stunning than Aphrodite, and a man barely containing his impressive erection in his low hanging boxers. Bucky can feel the energy in the room, can practically taste the arousal on them, and his subconscious stirs awake, begging to join like a wolf waiting for the hunt.

*******

      “And who plans on fixing our son’s firetruck creation? Because it sure as hell won’t be me, I will be taking care of our little girls where I am wanted.”

     Steve is the first to respond, an arm opens toward Bucky in the same moment. “Honey we didn’t mean to leave you out, c’mon over here let us show you how much better it is with you.” 

      As Bucky steps into Steve’s reach, you push off the counter and into the thick warmth of your husbands. Their desire envelops you as kisses are peppered on skin and fingers prod at bits of flesh for a better grip on reality. The moment is nearly bursting with love and lust, blinding both man’s super senses of their incoming visitor.

        “Who da hell bwoke my WEGOS!!!!????? MOMMYYYYY!” Hudson screeches from the bottom of the stairs and you’re running for him in an instant.

        “Hudson Anthony! You do not speak like that. You know better young man.” Steve and Bucky hiss at the use of their boy’s middle name, knowing how he feels in both respects.

       “Baby boy, I’m so sorry about the Legos, but you cannot use that language. No naughty words right?” You hate scolding him when you completely understand his frustrations, but heavens forbid he say any of that in public, the boy would be shamed and sent to his principal so fast even the Daily Bugle couldn’t catch it first. 

      Hudson sniffles and rubs his nose, trying to fight off tears of frustration in front of his daddy and papa, but quickly fails.

“But, is bwoken mommy. I woked so hawd on it! Wuh happened?” He begins wailing and stuttering breaths, and you pull him into your arms to hug and comfort him gently.

       “Shh, handsome, it was an accident. See, they were left too close to the stairs and mommy stepped on some, then daddy heard her yelp and ran through them too. Papa moved them out of the way and reminded daddy that he needs to help fix it with you baby.” You bounce him on your hip, trying to push the sadness away like you did when he was a small tike.

       Bucky and Steve step closer, each wrapping an arm around you and Hudson to initiate a bear hug. Hudson whimpers a bit longer then picks his head up from your shoulder and leans toward Steve, signaling he wants his daddy to hold him next. Steve pulls him close and whispers apologies only audible to his boy, but you and Bucky smile knowingly. They head to the far corner of the couch where they can have a quiet cuddle and talk about how Hudson can teach his daddy to rebuild the LEGO vehicle. 

      You lean against Bucky, enjoying the moment until he turns to the stairs.

       “Time for round 2 with some sleepy babies?” You tie your robe closed and head up the walk way, stubbing your toe on the first step.

       “Mother fu—dge on toast that was unpleasant.” You yelp and grip tightly onto Bucky’s vibranium arm. He chuckles and scoops you into his arms, carrying you up the remaining steps.

     “Careful, I don’t want to use your middle name today too darling.” He winks, setting you down at the doorway of the nursery. With a huff, you begin fluttering about the room, softly waking your girls and beginning their morning routine.

    “My sweet little Charlotte Ann, and my lovely Natalia Rose, you two are the most precious angels in this world. But for the love of all things holy, no Legos when you’re older ok?”

Tagging those who may appreciate this or can give me a helpful bit of advice on my writing : @bxccxdxll​ @iraot​ @sagechanoafterdark​ @tuiccim​  @thebescht​ @makbarnes​

#stucky #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #stucky x reader #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #parent Bucky #parent steve

[alwaysmarveling]

Socks

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Warnings: toxic relationships, small mentions of death, gaslighting, fighting, and miscarriage

Word Count: 4k (literally exactly 4k, I’m kinda proud)

A/N: Based on the song “1 Step Forward, 3 Steps Back” by Olivia Rodrigo as suggested by @vancityfire13, I hope this meets all your hopes and expectations <3 also technically this is my first prompt from someone who’s not me??!

You met Wanda at the library. Your legs crossed, eyebrows scrunched, and bottom lip caught between your teeth, you’d settled in the familiar corner of the library's world languages section. That area was always quiet, which you’d found out after many trips to the library as a kid. When the occasional patron did wander through, perusing the shelves, sometimes they brought family or friends, weaving together sounds and syllables that had to be from another language. It was the only sound you’d tolerate while you were immersed in your reading. Well, to be fully honest, you loved it, wondering what the hushed voices were saying, what stories they were telling. So Wanda’s English was a jarring wake-up call.

“I like your socks.” Her eyes flashed to your ankles, leaving you wondering if she was more drawn to the sky blue color or the characters covering it.

You’d noticed the brunette walking the aisles about ten minutes ago. Unlike most, she ran her fingers along the worn spines, seeming only half-interested in what the titles read.

“Thanks.” Your voice was cold, unwelcoming. She gave you a terse nod before heading off, her footsteps silent against the worn carpet. You thought she was gone.

-

A week later, you were back at your spot. You’d finally finished the work you’d been putting off for weeks, just about to reward yourself with a reread of Little Women, a book you’d read an uncountable number of times since you were a child. She was an unwelcome interruption.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but-”

“I was looking for a book for my brother. His name is Pietro. Was Pietro. There was a Sokovian fairytale he always loved. Begged my mother to read it to us every night. He could recite it by memory by the time he was five, knew every word. I thought I did too.” Your eyes traced down the curve of her spine. Your mother would have scolded you for standing so poorly.

“I’m sorry for your loss” was all you said, your lips forming a tight line when you finished.

“I couldn’t- I can’t remember the title.”

“I can try to help you find it?” You weren’t sure why you offered, maybe the lost look in her eyes, the growing strength of her accent as she talked, or the way her fingers traced her empty palms. No one should leave a library empty-handed.

“Do you speak Sokovian?” The corners of her eyes creased as you shook your head.

“I suppose you won’t be much help then, will you?” Her words held no bite, only the sadness of a stranger who was trying to hold herself together, her emotions threatening to unravel her at the weakened seams. You matched her facial expression out of sympathy, but she was gone before you had a chance to apologize.

-

“Do you like Disney?” she had asked you. Her eyes were back on your ankles. You were wearing the same socks as when the two of you first met. You were milliseconds away from answering, your tongue already against the roof of your mouth, ready to shut down the conversation immediately afterward. But then you noticed the way her hands fidgeted in her lap, her fingers always moving, almost like they were dancing. You sighed. You should be nicer; she’d really done nothing wrong.

“It’s alright.” Your shoulders raised and dropped, your answer purposefully vague. “Did you manage to find the book?” The darkening of her eyes was enough to tell you that, no, she hadn’t found it. “What’s the main character’s name?” Her gaze followed you as you pulled out your laptop.

“Boleslav,” she answered finally. Her gaze was timid, unsure. Why were you helping her? You’d been so closed off before. 

“Do you know any major points of the story? The names of the other characters?” Before she could answer, you eyed the pillow that sat next to you. She took a seat.

The two of you poured over Google, eventually finding the story and its location in the library. But by that point, you were too wrapped up in your findings on the Internet to get up. Too wrapped up in each other.

---

Wanda insisted she make it up to you, for finding the book for her.

“For helping me find my brother,” she insisted, pulling you out of the library. If she was anyone else, you would have responded by saying that she could make it up to you by leaving you alone with your books, but she wasn’t anyone else. So you let her tug you out of the building, Mirabelle, the librarian, giving you a wink upon seeing you leaving the building with someone else, soft smiles gracing your faces.

You thought she would’ve brought you to coffee, but it seemed you hadn’t yet developed the ability to understand her. She brought you to the city, a small store on the corner. Socks lined the walls, the different colors and patterns flooding your vision.

“Your Disney ones looked old.” You half-nodded as you scanned the store, your hand going limp in hers. You remembered learning about rods and cones in class ages ago, not quite remembering what each one did but remembering that one of them was involved in seeing colors. Those—whatever they were called—must’ve been on overdrive.

You picked one pair for her, and she, one for you. You wore those socks constantly, slipping them over your feet the second they were out of the wash. You never told Wanda about it, but you didn’t have to; her eyes fell to your ankles every time she saw you, a small smile on her face. You didn’t know if you did it for her reaction or simply because you loved them. Maybe it was both.

---

Wanda drew you into her world. Some might have used the word “yanked” given how quickly your relationship moved. But that made it sound involuntary, as if she’d forced you to move in with her when she’d asked you exactly eight months after your first date. And if you’d known she had powers when you first met her, you might’ve agreed. Maybe she’d entranced you and now you were stuck with her, even if you didn’t really want to be.

But the truth was that you did, you wanted to be with her every second you could. And though magic never left her hands when she was with you, even her name was magic, the way those two syllables rang beautifully in the air as she formally introduced herself for the first time. She spoke English when she talked to you, but you swore that whatever left her mouth was a language of her own, so elegant, sweet, and charming in a way that no English speaker could replicate.

But, one night, her words twisted into daggers, punctuated syllables sharpening into dangerous ends, the beginning of each sentence like a handle she grabbed and used to hurt you further, twist until it was lodged as deeply into your chest as it could go.

You weren’t sure what you did to make it happen. Maybe it was just a bad night. She was drunk, after all, home from some party with the Avengers that you hadn’t gone to. The two of you had talked it over before, though, both agreeing that it was too soon in your relationship to attend anything where it’d be publicly released, which was why you were confused about why she was cursing you out for abandoning her, not being there when you needed her.

You promised that you’d be sure to go next time. Wanda just turned around, dismissing you without another word. You weren’t sure what was worse, the silence or her words. She somehow missed the tears that streamed down your face.

-

The next day, she knocked on your door. This time, she was the one in tears, the rate at which they fell only increasing when she saw how puffy your eyes were.

“I- I’m sorry,” she bumbled, the sounds tumbling out of her mouth like a barrel coming down the Niagara Falls. She couldn’t have stopped them if she tried. You watched her struggle through an apology, something about her insecurities being magnified as she saw all the other couples around her seemingly happy. She just wanted that. And even though her speech was much more clumsy than the usual effortless diction you were used to hearing from her, you allowed her words to draw you in, provide you shelter from the horrors you’d experienced yesterday, when your heart raced and blood rushed your ears and your palms were so sweaty you couldn’t get a grip on anything. You allowed her arms to draw you in, make you feel safe. You allowed her to bring you home.

---

Wanda saw a side of you that no one had ever seen before. Scratch that, Wanda saw all of you. Where others would’ve looked away or missed the true meaning of your words, she dug deeper. You lived your whole life with a mask on, swapping one out for another to appease those around you. Wanda took them all off.

But she didn’t force them off; she made you want to take them off. You were the one who peeled them off one by one, the experience being extremely unnerving every time you revealed that much more of yourself to her, but you always found yourself relieved at the end. Because she accepted you, she loved you.

Right?

---

You called her once, during a mission. It was something the two of you had been doing ever since you started dating. You would ask how she was doing, make sure she was okay, and she’d do the same for you. Of course, when her missions were off-the-grid you didn’t call, but if the two of you were allowed to stay in contact, she insisted that you guys do so.

“I have to make sure my love is okay,” she’d murmured, just before she left for her first mission since the two of you started your relationship. She was holding you in her arms as the two of you swayed back and forth. Your feet were bare for once, the cold kitchen tile underfoot grounding the both of you. Neither of you had wanted to let go; your hands were clasped firmly together around her waist, and hers rested on top of yours. But eventually, the incessant honking from Tony became too much, and the two of you reluctantly moved apart.

“I’ll call you the second I can, yeah? And make sure you call me in the morning when you wake up.”

“I will,” you nodded as Wanda’s hand came up to brush against your cheek.

But somehow she’d forgotten about your agreement, and nothing but annoyance filled your ear, the phone pressed up against it.

“Y/N, I really don’t have time for this right now.” You sucked in a breath, her tone an instant reminder of that night she’d yelled at you. But that was so long ago. And you hadn’t done anything; there wasn’t a party you’d missed since then, not a moment since then that you’d let her feel alone. Or was there?

“I- I’m sorry,” you stuttered. “Should I call you back later?” All you got was a sigh, doubt and panic filling your chest in the momentary silence.

“We’ll see. Goodbye, milaya.” There was barely a pause in between her voice and the disconnect tone. You weren’t sure if the pet name was sincere or a habit leftover from the good times.

Were you still in the good times?

What went wrong?

Where did you go wrong?

-

She came back from the mission, and all was well again. She spun you around and around, her melodious giggles filling your ears and causing the corners of your mouth to lift. But you couldn’t help your brows from cinching inwards, wondering where this Wanda had been when you’d called. Was it just another fluke, or maybe something you’d imagined?

“I love you, printsessa, so, so much,” Wanda whispered. You loved the way her smooth voice filled your ears, made you feel whole again. Maybe it was the kitchen? Was that the place she felt safe, the place where she felt like she could love you fully? Maybe that’s why she seemed so closed off during the mission. When you didn’t respond, too lost in thought, she spoke up again.

“Detka, d’you know you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me? I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Her eyes sparkled. No red mist emerged from her fingertips, but you swore Wanda’s essence was magic in and of itself. How could you ever deny her?

You surrendered.

“I love you too. More than anything in the world.”

---

The next day, Wanda woke you up with excitement filling her voice, insisting that you come with her to the compound to pick up some of the things she’d left behind. 

“I want to show you off,” she’d laughed as she rolled you over.

“We’ve already met, babe. They love me, you’ve said so yourself,” you groaned. She shook her head as she corralled you into the bathroom.

“You haven’t met all of them! Now c’mon, let’s go!” You agreed, and she was right, there were lots of new people there.

“You must be Y/N, right?” You nodded as you shook the man’s hand.

“I’m Clint. I’ve heard, um, lots about you. And your socks.” The two of you laughed at his joke, but something about his chuckle was off. His smile never quite reached his eyes. Wanda whisked you off too soon for you to figure out why though, bringing you over to a rather large man. No, god, he’s a god. Thor, he said. His name is Thor.

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you’d responded.

“The love of my life,” Wanda sighed, her voice wispy and dreamy. The god’s eyebrows had raised at that.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you then, Y/N. I didn’t know Wanda was so fortunate as to have a love so strong.” Sometimes you had to remind yourself of that too. “You are very lucky, my friend.” Am I? 

-

You exchanged jokes with Natasha, learned of some of Bruce and Tony’s new projects, listened to stories of Thor’s childhood adventures on Asgard; the night went well. Until it didn’t.

You were yanked into a mostly empty room, the door quickly shut behind you. Was that a flash of red you’d seen in the corner of your eye?

“What did you do?” someone hissed. The voice was familiar, but by this point, you weren’t sure if it filled you with dread or joy when you heard it. Was that part of the excitement of your relationship, trying to figure out the complexities of it all, trying to predict which version of your lover you’d get this time?

“I don’t know,” you whispered. “I didn’t do anything, Wanda, I swear!”

“Then why is Clint telling me to break up with you? What did you say to him?” Your head shook, your whole body shook. This was news to you.

“I didn’t say anything. Please, Wan-”

“How am I supposed to believe that, Y/N? Do you really think he’d just make that up out of nowhere?” You tried to find the words, the ones you should say, the ones she’d want you to say. You had nothing. The witch’s anger grew, her hands slamming down on her sides. “God, Y/N! It’s like sometimes I don’t even know who you are!”

But wait, that was how you felt. Wasn’t it? Or had you dreamed that up too? What had you done?

“Wanda, I promise I didn’t do anything. I’ve been friendly to him all night.”

“So you expect me to believe he’s lying, then.” Your eyes fell to her chest, its rise and fall rapid but deep, going up and down several times before she spoke again. “Y/N, he named his child after my brother. Why would he lie to me?” You could do nothing, say nothing to fix this. You weren’t sure exactly what you did, but you’d messed up. Again.

“Maybe he’s right, then.” Her hand ran through her hair, the brown locks that you loved to twist around your own fingers, play with as she laid in your lap, a show playing in the background. You missed those times.

But weren’t you just doing that last night?

You weren’t sure. It seemed like so long ago.

---

Weeks, months, even a year passed. Wanda had apologized for that night at the compound. She’d also apologized for the countless number of other times the two of you had fought since then. But it was okay, you’d thought, because for all those arguments was an equal number of moments where the two of you laughed so hard you couldn’t breathe, slow-danced at 3 AM, used your hairbrushes as microphones to sing concerts for your millions of fans. At least, you thought it was an equal number. Did number matter anyway?

Wanda went from being your girlfriend, to being your fiancé, to being your wife. Like Thor had said, you were “very lucky.” You are very lucky. Because right now, you’re looking down at the stick in your hand, and there are two lines, not one. The two of you had done something so many couldn’t; that was a huge blessing. And now you had to tell Wanda.

Finding the box was harder than you thought, but the other part was much easier. All you had to do was go to the store Wanda had taken you to all that time ago, the small store on the corner. And when the brunette lifted open the lid to find a pair of socks so tiny they could only be for one thing, one person, one baby, she knew. She was ecstatic. You were relieved.

-

Four weeks. Four weeks later from that day was the worst day of your life. Just as quickly as the baby had come, it had gone. He or she was gone. Was it your fault? The doctor had been quick to shut those thoughts down, insisting that there were many factors that could’ve caused the miscarriage, but you certainly weren’t one of them.

But Wanda didn’t talk to you for a whole week, spending the nights in the guest bedroom to avoid you. It was the longest the two of you had gone without speaking. That had to mean something, right?

It did. It meant that it shouldn’t have been a surprise when you came home from work the following Monday to find half of the things missing. All of her things.

The box was still there, though; you saw it out of the corner of your eye. It sat on top of a cabinet, the two socks poking out of the top.

The two of you had fallen in love with those tiny socks faster than you’d fallen in love with each other. They held so much love, so much promise. But now they were empty, devoid of anything they might’ve held just hours before. They were nothing more than a painful reminder of what could have been, what should have been. Meanwhile, your own socks were still on, the same ones Wanda had given to you on your first date. You weren’t sure you could take them off if you tried. Was that a reminder too? Did it have significance?

The ticking of the clock suddenly caught your attention. You had been standing at the doorway for thirty minutes, but what were you supposed to do? Were you supposed to go somewhere? Where would you go? Wanda was gone, not leaving any clue as to where she could’ve run off to, and you were alone. 

When was the last time you’d been truly alone?

Didn’t you use to like being alone?

You grabbed your keys. You weren’t sure what you were looking for, but whatever it was, you wouldn’t find it here.

-

You push open the door, always the one on the right. Walk twenty or so steps through the entrance, turn left. Take another left, then walk-

It was different. Completely different. The shelves weren’t the same color, metal had been swapped for wood, the carpet was new; what had happened?

“Y/N, sweetie, is that you?” Mirabelle’s voice. At least she was still here. You turned to face her, taking in her wrinkled face, the tortoiseshell glasses that had been perched on her nose since you met her as a child. “Oh my goodness, it is! We haven’t seen you in ages. We were all so worried.”

“Wha- what happened to the library?” Her kind smile flipped, her lips separated with their corners turning downwards.

“We got a renovation at the end of last year, honey. Didn’t you see it on the news?”

“Right,” you nodded, swallowing again, trying to push down the lump that had been growing in your throat for over an hour. “Um, where’s the world languages section?”

“Upstairs, love. Take two rights and you’ll see it. Enjoy your visit, okay?” You nodded again, pressing your lips into a wavering smile that Mirabelle accepted.

You found the section easily enough, pushing yourself into one of the beanbags that crowded the floor. It was quiet—you supposed not many people came to the library on a late Tuesday afternoon—but something was missing.

No, that wasn’t it. Nothing was missing. Everything had changed, and you couldn’t settle yourself no matter how hard you tried. You couldn’t recognize the white walls or the large windows that surrounded you. You couldn’t recognize the book in your shaking hands; the title read “Little Women,” but it lacked the comfort and familiarity it once brought you. You couldn’t recognize the artwork that hung on the walls, the large signs suspended from the ceiling.

You caught a reflection in the shiny metal of a book cart that lay several feet away from you.

You couldn’t recognize yourself.

When you finally left the library, Mirabelle frowned as she watched you exit the doors, not stopping to check out a book like you always did. No one should ever leave a library empty-handed. You’d forgotten that too.

---

She came back less than a week later, her cheeks tear-stained and her eyes rimmed with red as she stumbled her way through an apology.

“It was a mistake, detka, I promise. I made such an awful mistake, and I’ll never forgive myself. I won’t blame you if you don’t forgive me either.” You stared at her, neither your eyes nor your mouth moving as you tried to take in what she was saying, tried to come up with an adequate response.

Which had changed more, the library or you?

“Please, you’re the only thing that matters in my life. I can’t lose you.” The melody of her once-full voice was broken, the chords fragmented and notes falling out of tune. It was as broken as you’d felt for the past few days. Maybe she understood. But you couldn’t think anymore because you were suddenly in her arms again, her tears soaking your shirt as she sobbed.

The library had been renovated, its modernity and welcoming environment being a major improvement to the once somewhat dilapidated building. You had slipped, your feet wrapped in the socks Wanda had given you as you stumbled down the dark, crooked hallway of your life, trying desperately to get a hand on the wall, grab a solid footing.

You had two options: save yourself or fall.

“Please, Y/N, please. Promise you’ll stay.” 

You fell backwards, your head being the first to slam into the floor.

“Of course I’ll stay, Wan. I’d never leave you.”

You weren’t sure if you’d ever get up. After all, changed or not, what’s a library without its books? Who are you without her?

-----

🏷 : @007giu

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff angst #wanda maximoff #avengers x reader #marvel #mcu #I wrote something #alwaysmarveling

[luimagines]

RQ: He’s upset and needs comforting

Masterlist

Ya'll want angst? Because I have some angst.

Very hurt/comfort

Set platonically and within the group since there was no specification. Hope that’s ok! Sorry it took awhile, it got away from me again. I think this may be a trend.

Scenario under the cut! It’s super long so take caution!

Sky

It took a while for you to notice but eventually you do.

Sky has been acting weird all day.

It was only clipped responses at first, then it was was the lack of attention where Sky would have been the first to comment or act otherwise. What really tipped you off finally was how he seemed to be evading the whole group. Not necessarily stepping away and out of sight but he didn’t interact with anyone and when they approached him, he didn’t make eye contact, seemingly trying to cut the conversation short.

No one has said anything. 

You mention it to Twilight about his out of character behavior but he says that it maybe a bad day, or he slept wrong, or some other reason that you stopped listening to because it didn’t make any sense.

Sky was always trying to be friendly no matter his mood and it took a lot to shake him up.

What was eating at the Chosen Hero?

Soon, the uncertainty begins to eat at you too and you wait for night fall, once everyone is asleep to strike.

Strike up a conversation that is.

Sky usually takes the last watch because he’s usually the first one out regardless of what activities for the day so you strive to wake up early.

It works for the most part, your internal clock doing what you want it to do when you blink your eyes open. Part of you begins to drift off again so you sit up and nearly fall asleep that way.

A hand comes up on your back and rubs a small circle. “Nightmare?”

It’s Sky and he’s looking at you with mild concern.

You smile and shake your head. “No. I’m alright but I think I’ll stay up with you if you don’t mind.”

“I wouldn’t mind the company.” He moves out of your space and back to where he sat.

You follow, still groggy from just waking from your slumber but succeed in not stepping on any of your friends or waking them up as well with the added noise. you sit next to the Hero of the Skies with little fan fare and let the moment settle on the both of you before looking skyward.

“Can I ask you something?” You don’t look at Sky and continue star gazing even if they’re a little harder to spot as the sun travels closer for it’s shift.

Sky hums in agreement and follows your gaze upwards.

“Are you ok? You seemed a little off lately.”

Sky doesn’t say anything for the first few seconds and you suspect that maybe he didn’t hear you. With him spacing out so much and the fact that you whispered for the sake of your still sleeping friends, you’re inclined to repeat yourself but Sky answers in time.

“Just thinking a lot, I suppose. Nothing serious.”

“Yeah?” You don’t look his way. This is casual. This is friendly. This is not a big deal. “Rupee for your thoughts?”

“It’s not that interesting.”

You shrug. “Hit me with it anyway. It’s got to be something if it’s throwing you off your rocker. Maybe a new perspective will help clear some of it up?”

Sky frowns at your attempts, once again retreating into his mind. You let the offer hang in the air and let it sink in.

You’re disinclined to bring it up anymore. Your brain is still tired and you’re wondering your effectiveness when half of your thoughts are still muddled with sleep and fatigue. You could have totally slept in some more. What on earth made you think this was a good idea?

“Time mentioned something earlier that I can’t seem to let go of.” Sky begins.

You hum back and let him keep talking.

“I never fought this Ganon guy they all so talk so much about. I fought the God Demise. Before I could land the final blow, he cast a curse on me, on us, that some cycle would continue. His hatred would last forever and my blood line and Zelda’s will be cursed to deal with constant darkness caused by him.” Sky admits, looking now at his intertwined hands. “I finished him soon after that but... I wonder... Am I the cause-... Is this all my fault? Am I the reason that we’re all here right now? That everyone has gone through so much? So many thing happened that should have never occurred. Time and Legend and Wild have all suffered so much.... more than I can possibly ever imagine and it seems like it’s never ending. Everyone starts they’re adventures so young... If I had killed him sooner... If I had just got it over with... If I had just shut him up-”

“Hey.” Your hand lands on his shoulder, cutting off his tirade.  “None of this is anyone’s fault. The only people to blame are Ganon and now, this Demise guy. You did what you could. You still got the job done and no one here will ever blame you for what has happened to them or to Hyrule. You were young too... you’re still young. Give yourself a little kindness and understanding, just as you do with everyone here. You didn’t deserve it either. It’s not like you asked to fight a God.”

“Well...”

“Sky you know what I mean.”

“I should have been faster. If-”

“There’s no use in worrying about what if’s.” You shove him slightly. “This is our life. Even if you ask, no one is capable of giving you the answers. I get it. It’s hard to know if the path you took is the right one if it’s all you’ve ever known and you can’t see where the other would have lead... But... Even if horrible things happen, I’m still glad to have met you. I’m glad I met the others. I’m happy to be here with you and with them, and I’m glad that it’s not just me anymore.”

You let the words sink in before leaning down wards and trying to get him to look you in the eye. “I can’t answer your questions. But what happened, happened and the best thing we can do is learn how to play with the cards we’re dealt.”

He take a deep breath and  finally looks in your direction. “I know you’re right.” 

“Naturally.”

“But I can’t help but feel responsible for being-”

“But you’re not responsible for their pain or any of this Sky. If Ganon has anything to do with Demise then it’s all Demise’ fault. His and his only. Understand?” You stress. “I wish... I wish I could do something more to help.”

Sky places his hand over yours where you still have it on his shoulder and sends you a small smile. “I know. Me too.”

Wild

“Zelda, would you please drop it!” You hear the Champion yell, his voice carrying over the wind and somehow getting louder. “We’ve had this conversation before and it’s not the time to have it again. I have things to do excuse me.”

Wild storms into his house and shuts the door behind, blocking it with all his weight and waits for the indignant shrieking on the other side to go away. The voice ends with a frustrated huff and after a moment of silence, Wild relaxes and steps away from the door and further into the house.

You’re almost scared for the moment. You’ve not known Wild to yell, even less so for a Link to be on bad terms with Zelda no matter the universe. To make matters worse, you were the only that was actually within the house at the moment and you weren’t entirely sure how to proceed from here.

“Trouble in paradise?”

That probably wasn’t the way to go, if you were being honest with yourself.

Wild groans, loud and exaggerated and sits at the table in front of you with as much fan fair.

“Do not...call it that.” He sounds tired.

“Sorry.” You amend with an apologetic shrug. “That-” You reference to the scene outside. “-Didn’t sound ideal.”

“No. It’s not.” Wild sighs and places his face in his hands with his elbows on the table. Bad table manners, a small voice in your head pipes up. But it’s his house, so you bite your tongue.

“Can I ask what it was about?” You hesitatingly venture.

Wild takes a deep breath and slowly lets it out. “I wanted to live a simple life.” He starts. “Everything was over now, right? That was the idea I had. Defeat the evil and get to finally live as a normal man. Maybe explore more of my home and show Zelda all the cool things I’ve seen and done. Everything I knew, everything I remembered is gone and has been gone for a while. No one alive misses it. No one alive even knows about it. This is the world they were born into and they wouldn’t have it any other way. I was prepared to accept that and join them.”

Your face twists in sympathy as you nod along. “I take it that’s the issue here.”

“When I defeated Calamity Ganon and reunited with Zelda, she seemed so full of hope and purpose.” Wild continues. “I saw it in her eyes. She wanted a different thing to what I wanted.”

“And what’s that?”

Wild gives you a pained look. “Zelda wants to try and rebuild the kingdom. Make it into what she remembers it to be. She wants to strengthen relationships with the other nations and reestablish the royal family and a whole lot of other things that I cannot begin to think of how long it would both take and last considering all the damage that already been done. She wants to be Queen. And over what? Hyrule Kingdom is no more. Can’t be a Queen without a kingdom to rule and there’s not a lot of Hylians left that would agree to being ruled over or even enough of them to count as a kingdom to begin with.”

“I suppose it’s not a bad goal to have but you do make a point.” You try and add to the conversation, feeling wildly out of your depth. “Does she know that you-”

“Yes. And she thinks I’m crazy for it. She thinks that I’ve given up on my friends and the past and the future and- uugghhh.” Wild leaned forward and slams his head on the table with enough force to make you jump.

“That look like it hurt.”

“I’ve had worse.”

“I believe you.” A small smile covers your face.

A beat passes before Wild continues to talk with his head still on top of the table. “I don’t think she realizes that I’ve changed after everything. Maybe if I had my memories to begin with, or maybe if I had managed to defeat Calamity Ganon sooner, I’d be more inclined to agree with her, but I’ve experienced so much and done so much that I don’t want to go back to how things were. I’m a different man now.” Wild looks up at you. “She’s different too but I don’t think she’s ready for that conversation.” 

“So you’re stuck with this one?”

“Yes.”

“That sucks man.” You shift in your seat. “Anything I can do to help?”

“Not if you can change the past.” He pouts.

“Shame. I’m fresh out of past changing wishing powder.”

“That’s not a thing.” He pouts even more.

You chuckle at the display before sobering up ever so slightly. “Do you want me to talk to her?”

“What good will that do?”

“Maybe a third person party has to step in. It could be that it’s because you’re the one who saying that she isn’t listening.” You shrug. “I think you’re right but I’m willing to give her chance to tell her side of the story while you cool down in here. I can be a distraction so you can sneak out quietly and she won’t know you’re here anymore! It’s a win win! And maybe you guys can come to an agreement when you both see each other again with new perspectives.”

Wild gives you another tired look and leans into his hand. “I doubt it would work. Zelda is incredibly stubborn, one of the most stubborn people I’ve ever met. But if you think it would help, I won’t stop you. I’ve run out of arguments and I’m done hearing hers.”

“Ok.” You say getting up and moving around the table. “I think it’s worth a shot. There’s a saying where I’m from that goes, ‘it’ll all be alright in the end, and if it’s not alright, then it’s not the end.’”

You give Wild a hug around his shoulder and squeeze him tight. “I have faith that you’ll pull through and get to live peacefully, but until then, you’ve got us on your side ok?”

He leans in your direction and wraps his arms around your own. “I know. I figured as much.”

“Good man.”

“I’m definitely sneaking out of here though.”

“That’s fair. Go hide.”

“I will... And thanks for listening to me. I didn’t mean to go off like that.”

“That’s what I’m here for.”

Four

"I'm sorry, what?" Four snaps his head up to stare at the Champion.

"What?" Wild tilts his head. "What? There's no stuff in the grass in my Hyrule. Just crickets and lizards...you know normal stuff. I don't know why there's tools and rupees in all of yours."

"You don't-" Four cut himself off with a click of his teeth, a piece in his mind clicking into place. He stands suddenly, clearly upset and tense as he processes the information.

"Four?" You call out to him but he doesn't respond to you, nor does he look back.

"Four!" Hyrule calls as well. "Where are you going?"

No reply.

"I'll go with him. Just in case." You stand up in a rush and nearly knock over the equipment at your feet in the process. "Don't wait up for us."

You follow him.

Four is fast and quiet and it takes very little time to lose him- or rather, for him to lose you.

Before you knew it, there's no trace of him and there's nothing within the forest that would give you a hint to his whereabouts.

"Great." You hiss and look around.

Nothing.

"Four!" If he won't show himself, you'll just have to make some noise. "Four! Four! Show me a sign so I know you're not dead!"

You wait.

"Don't make me get Wolfie!"

Nothing.

"Four!" You scream a little louder and begin to run. Now that you've said it out loud, despite being a joke in the beginning, the thought of Four being dead somewhere spikes your panic and anxiety and it fuels your quest.

It's only been a few minutes and Four can handle himself just fine but you don't think about that.

"FOUR!"

"Why are you screaming?" A voice come just beyond you.

You sprint toward it and find Four in a small clearing, crouched down and appearing to hold something in the palm of his hand.

"I was calling you." You don't know how you find it in you scold him. "A response would have been nice."

"Sorry." He shrugs. "I was having a conversation, it would be rude to drop it."

You get on your tip toes to look around him and find nothing. "With... With what?"

Four looks down into his hand and places it, ever so gently, on the ground, pausing and standing up to see you. "You can't see them?"

"See who?" You step over to him. "Four? Are you ok?"

His face twists in annoyance before sighing. "I'm fine."

"No offence, but I doubt that."

"It... a group of creatures that can only be seen by good children. They were important on my quests and have helped me greatly. Children usually stop seeing them around the time when they turn sixteen."

"Would it be easy for me to chalk it all up to magic?" You bit your lip.

"Probably. If it'll help you sleep at night." Four sighs and looks down to the ground, a small smile on his lips before it twists into a painfully and... he looks seconds from crying.

"I did so much to help them... and they helped me.... They leave gifts in the grass to help travelers and us heroes alike and yet... Wild says it doesn't happen anymore..." Four gulps and looks away from you and what ever is by his foot. "They wouldn't stop.... They're incredibly kind and hospitable and... There's no reason for them... Why are they gone?"

"Four." You reach out and place a hand on his shoulder.

"What happens to them?" His Adam's apple bobs a bit as he sucks in a breath. "It just means there was no one to help them."

"Oh Four." You pull him into a hug and nearly crush him with it.

"There's nothing I can do to help them, is there?" He sniffles into your chest.

"No, I... I don't think so Four. Not that far out into the future." You shake your head and begin to rub circles on his back.

You don't think he's crying but he might be fighting it because he does begin shaking.

He doesn't say anything else and you're loath to let him go when he's so emotionally charged. So you hold him. You hold him for as long as he needs and you wait for him to pull away first.

When he does, you keep your hands on his shoulders and he stays within your reach. Four begins to take deep calming breaths with his eyes closed and you instinctually run your hands through his bangs and push some of the loose hairs from his face.

Minutes continue to pass and the sounds of nature around you fill the void.

"I'm sorry." You say. "I wish I could help you but I don't know how."

Four nods and rubs his eyes. "I don't doubt that. Thank you. I'll be ok."

You don't think he's ready to go back to the group just yet, not after all that. "Tell me more about these friends of yours. How did they help you? How did you help them? What are they exactly?"

It earns you a small laugh and he grins up at you with a watery smile. "Sit down. And let me tell you about the Picori."

Twilight

“You almost died and for what?!” Twilight screams at Wild for the umpteenth time.

It startles you to hear his voice reach such volumes but you’re inclined to agree with him this time around. After Wild’s stunt with taking a hit to the head for Wind, you’d been on the look out for his more... self sacrificing behavior. You knew he wouldn’t think twice to do it and you tried to make it so there wouldn’t even be a chance for him to make such a decision.

This time though, in this last fight, you took your eyes off of him for only a moment and that’s when he broke his streak of uneventful fights. 

Twilight, of course, is livid and has no regard for the poor creatures of the forest that have to endure his tirade as he unleashes his concern and worry in the form of rage and over exaggerated gestures.

When Hyrule finishes healing your more minor wounds, you slink away from the soon to be screaming match since Wild is very much still conscious, if a little roughed up. You don’t intended to stray as far as you go but you don’t find it in yourself to care for the time being.

Being around so many people for so long is taxing. You make the executive decision to remove yourself for the time being while tensions are high, to both cool off and to avoid getting hit in the crossfire.

There’s a small creek nearby, you find, and decide to make a small space for yourself there until dinner comes rolling around. The birds and the babbling waters calm your soul and snuffle out the last of the adrenaline. You don’t know how long you sit there, but you can faintly hear the screaming match in the distance that you dipped out of.

You don’t regret it.

More time passes and you find that you may or may not have taken a small nap in the meantime. If the position of the sun is anything to go by.

Despite the pain in your back from sleeping against a tree, the slight ache in your neck from the angle you slept in, you feel better. Clearer, even.

You hope your absence wasn’t entirely noticed but you can’t seem to regret leaving either.

Footsteps creep closer to you and you huddle into a small ball out of habit to avoid detection.

It’s Twilight.

He walks near the creek and takes a heavy seat next to it. He looks both pale or red faced at the same time but exhaustion is laced in his entire body from what you can tell.

He doesn’t notice you.

You uncurl and set your legs out in front of you. Leaning forward a little, as quietly as you can, you see that he’s upset. It doesn’t surprise you. But seeing as you don’t how to deal with an upset Twilight and you can’t really sneak away without crossing his line of sight or making any miniscule noise, you still yourself and wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Twilight calls your name. Quietly and hollow- like he’s not all there. Or in the way one would talk to a memory.

It’s immediately unsettling. Both in how he sounds and how he knew you were there without you doing anything. But you suppose Twilight can just sense things like that from times to time. It’s certainly not the first time he’s done it.

“I’m here.” You reply.

“How long?”

“A few hours I think. Longer than you were here that’s for sure.” You shrug and slowly crawl out of your hidey hole. “I think I fell asleep....The sun wasn’t over there when I first got here.”

Twilights hums in what you think is agreement but it’s really only a sound. “It’s a nice spot.”

You smile. It’s tense and little fake, but he’s not looking at you so you don’t care for authenticity. “Good thing it’s big enough for the both of us huh?”

“Yeah.” He looked into the distance again, noting that the sun is beginning to set and takes a deep breath. “Do you ever feel a strange sadness as dusk falls?”

“Can’t say that I have.” You move closer to him, aiming to sit by his side. “I’ve always enjoyed sun sets and I find them calming to watch but hearing someone finding them sad is a new one. Do you feel sad as dusk falls?”

He hums again. “They say it’s the only time their world interacts with ours.”

“Whos?”

“Lingering spirits I suppose...” Twilight tilts his head upwards before twisting it to look at you. “It’s nothing. I’m just reminiscing about my life before my adventure is all. My... father told me those words and I haven’t forgotten them since.”

You hum this time and lean back to mirror him. “Wanna tell me why?”

“That Champion reminds me so much of myself and yet... he’s ten times worse.” Twilight falls backwards with a soft thump. “I know why he does it but I...”

“You care about him and don’t want to see him hurt.” You shrug. “It’s not exactly a new concept.”

“Tell that to him.”

“Maybe I will. He gets just as upset as you do when this happens, you know.” You shift your weight to make it easier to stand up later.

“Does he? You’d think that he’d get the point to stop doing then.” He growls.

“Maybe he’s scared of losing more friends.” You blurt before you can stop yourself. That was something Wild told you in confidence and while he didn’t say you couldn’t tell anyone- that was kinda implied.

Twilight stills for a moment, the fight leaving him again in a single breath as he considers your words. They don’t seem to be new news to him.

Wild is pretty close to Twilight...Maybe he already knew.

“I still think I’m entitled to not like it.” He settles.

“It’s not he’s asking you to be ok with it. I know I’m not.” 

“I guess that’s fair then.” Twilight sits up again and stands up in one fluid motion that you envy. With a turn on his heel, he holds his hand out to you to take.

You take it and feel him effortlessly lift you off of the ground with that one hand.

You don’t comment on it.

“Come on.” He says. “I’m going to need you for moral support.”

“Why?”

“If I yelled in front of him of the whole group, I should apologize to him in front of the whole group.” He admits and wraps his arm around your shoulders. “But I might need an excuse to get close to him again after all the things I’ve said.”

“I get your desert and you’ve got yourself a deal. I left to not get involved and here you are... involving me.” You tease. “I demand payment.”

“One desert? I can do that.”

Hyrule

“I can’t do this.” You snap your head to the sound of the voice and see Hyrule with his arms cross and shaking.

“What? What’s happening? Hyrule?” You step closer to him as you’re the only one within arms reach. “What do I need to do? How can I help?”

“There’s nothing. Nothing you can do, that can make this better.” Hyrule takes one ground step before throwing his arms down. “Don’t you see them? With all their tools and experience and then there’s- me. Just me. Some magic later and a old man with a sword and I found myself trying to save my princess and defeat some evil, but these guys...”

You look around, trying to see if Legend or Sky are close enough to give you back up, or better yet, take over. You suppose it’s better than a panic attack but it’s so left field that you’re stunned and floundering to catch this hot potato of a conversation.

He keep talking.

“For all that is good and holy, they are heroes. Do you see them? Some of them have training, and families and skills and I....was just a boy in a grave yard. How can I even compete with them? I don’t, that’s how. But how can they consider me an equal? When I was in town and listened to the elders and their stories, they would tell me of a legendary hero from the past who courageously defended our home until the very end and who was virtually undefeated in all his adventures. And then I meet Legend....and he’s so much cooler than all those stories combined.”

“Link.” You call out to him and back to the real world. “You need to slow down for me honey because you’re too fast for me to keep up. What do you mean how can they see you as an equal? You defeated Ganon just as they did. You stood up for your home just as they did. You did it all on your own just as they did. Why wouldn’t they consider you an equal? No one cares about where you’re from, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

“But they can do so many things even without the sword!” He exclaims. “They all have a place to go to, a person who cares about them, a title or a skill and a world that’s not on the brink of collapse-”

“Ok, whoa, hey.” You step into his space and take his face into your hands, bringing it up for him to look you in the eyes.

“I have no idea what brought this up but I won’t stand for anyone talking bad about you. And that includes you. We... can talk about your home with clearer heads later, ok? Maybe the others can help with that when we get there, yeah? And well....” You’re sinking. You don’t know what to do with all this information and you have even less of an idea about how to address it.

“Good golly, when it rains, it pours with you lot, doesn’t it?” You hiss under your breath and bite the bullet. With a strong grip, you wrap your arms around the Traveler and pull him close. You try to keep your grip strong without fear of hurting him, but it hits you then how thin he is. How light he actually is. You can feel the hint of armor under his tunic and it does little to quell your fears.

“Clearly there’s a lot on your mind. And... I’m probably not the person to help you through this. If you want to talk about not belonging though, I’m free to listen. I’m the only one here who’s not a Link, if you haven’t noticed.” You try to joke but it falls a little flat. “You though... You belong here with all of us... all of them... And if you need more convincing then I’m bringing this up with Legend who’s is over the moon proud of you and what you can do and he told me himself that he couldn’t be happier to have you as his successor-”

“Really?”

“Not in those exact words admittedly,-” You gulp as the word vomit continues to bubble out of you in waves of panic. “-but I know that’s what he meant because he doesn’t stop talking about how cool you are.”

“Hm.”

“And everyone has a different background, ok? Everyone has skills and people that the others don’t have. That’s ok. It’s not a competition. I get worried that one day you guys are going to create some game out of all your trauma. Like... who had it worse and just go around in a circle listing off all the things that happened to each of you... Whoever runs out of things to say or can’t think of something as bad or worse than the others is out. Last man standing wins.”

“Don’t give them ideas.” You feel him chuckle. It’s breathless and small and it doesn’t reach your ears despite your closeness but you feel it.

“Good thing it’s just you and me right now.” You sigh a little in relief and loosen the hug. “Look, just.....whatever you think you can’t do, just know that there is someone who is confidently doing it wrong right now. In the group or not, just keep your eyes and watch. They don’t plan on doing it better either and people are celebrating them for it. Please believe in your own excellence as much as they believe in their mediocrity.”

“Big words.”

“You’re awesome for trying. Others are not and don’t plan to. You’re already better than them.” You amend, stepping away to look him in the eye again. “The group can’t do magic like you can. That’s all you. They all have items sure but no one can do what you do... and you’re self taught, right? That’s incredible! You have just as much as a reason to be here as the others. I swear it.”

Hyrule sighs and gulps. He doesn’t believe you. It’s not enough.

You knew it wouldn’t be and it’s definitely doesn’t scratch the tip of the iceberg of the bomb he just dropped on you but... step by step. Little by little. you have a plan.

“Screw it. Let’s catch up with Wind and Warrior and get them to tell you how awesome you are, since you won’t listen to me. And if you’re still a nonbeliever then we move on to the next pair. We’ll go down the line if we have to.” You nod and grab his hand, beginning to drag him along.

He laughs after you, a little hysterical and in disbelief. “You’re crazy.”

“That is not new information.” You reply, hiding your grin. “I say it’s Hyrule loving hours and I’m gonna get everyone to join.”

“You’re not joking are you.” It’s a statement. He already knows the answer.

“Nope!”

Legend

It was your turn on watch for the night. In an hour or two you were supposed to wake the Veteran for his shift and finally catch some sleep.

The others snored and slept away without a care in the world. It was just you and cackling fire that was active but you’d kill for something to help your mind get passed the boredom.

Anything but monsters or an attack that is. You’d hate to jinx your good luck so far.

In the corner of your eye, while fighting to keep your head up, you see Legend shift. Not necessarily unusual. You’re inclined to ignore it.

But then he shifts again, whimpering like he’s been hurt and a white knuckled grip on the blanket.

You still and begin to wonder what’s your level of care here.

Part of you, in kindness, wants to go wake him. The lack of sleep seems more merciful than letting him suffer a prison of his own making.

But you also don’t know how he’ll react.

You know he’d hate to be seen as weak for whatever normal reason and he’s been inclined to wake up swinging in the right circumstance.

Twilight suffered a broken nose for the whole night because he was disinclined to wake up Hyrule or take a potion.

Not you’d make the same decision and suffer the whole night in the same manner but it certainly fails to sound appealing.

Just as your about to appeal to your better nature and force yourself to go wake him before it gets worse, he shoots up into a sitting position with a strangled scream. The job seems to have been done for you- but in the worse way.

He’s breathing hard with his hand gripping his chest. Legend begins to frantically look around and slowly begins to piece together where he is and what’s happened. He never looks behind him, where you are, before running a hand through his hair a little harder than you think reasonable and getting to his feet.

You cough slightly, leaning away from the fire and back into previous position. You hadn’t realized you leaned into his direction as you watched him, inches from putting your face into the flame.

He startles at the sound and whips around, one hand poised to reach the sword he’s not equipped with.

“It’s just me.” You wave. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

He calms somewhat and you can see his jaw flex. “Well, goodnight to you.”

His voice is croaked- from disuse or an overwhelming emotion, you’re not sure.

“For me maybe. But you? That was quite a scare you gave me as well.” You play it off. You can at least pretend that you weren’t watching him. That you would have saved him a little earlier and took your sweet time doing it. You offer a peace offering to your morals. “Want to talk about it?”

“What’s there to talk about?” He snaps, furiously rubbing his face. “It’s nothing new. We all deal with it one way or another.”

“True. But it’ll be easier to let it go, and let the experience float up into the air and never return. Otherwise it’ll fester and grow.” You shrug. “But I won’t force you. I know you’re not exactly fond of me.”

Legend glares into the fire as you talk and refuses to look at you. Once you finish though, he moves his head away, still not in your direction but visually drops more tension from his shoulders.

He doesn’t say anything.

“There’s a spot next to me with your name on it if you want it.” You offer. “A little company wouldn’t hurt.”

He takes more time to respond and you resolve to go back to staring at the fire.

A moment or two passes and you hear the faint sound of crunched foliage. It takes of your will power to not look up as he approaches and even more so when he decidedly sits next to you.

The fabric of his tunic brushes your leg for a minute and it strikes you odd that he sat that close despite the rest of the log at his disposal.

It must have been bad if he wants to be close to someone right after. The thought enters your mind. Once it’s there you don’t chase it away and instead casually lean back with your hand behind you.

If the angle causes you to lean closer to him in the process, you don’t say anything. 

And if Legend notices, he doesn’t say anything either.

A moment of time passes in silence, the only sounds through the whole forest are crickets and a passing owl with the occasional whisper through the trees.

“How do you do it?” He asks.

“Do what?” You tilt your head in his direction.

He’s still not looking at you.

“Keep going.”

The answer shocks momentarily but you’re not surprised that it’s coming from him out of the whole group. “Legend-”

“I’m tired.” He says instead. “I hate this. I hate that sword. I hate that pig demon. I hate that I can’t be done.”

You hand comes up to his shoulder and you force him to look at you. 

He lets you and he looks up to you with tears building up in his eyes and for a moment you’re struck by the odd balance of how old he sounds but how young he looks- is.

You stuck floundering for a response to answer him with but he asks one more thing. “Why can’t I be done?”

You pull him into a hug before you can stop yourself. “I don’t know. I don’t know Link.”

You find yourself wanting to cry as well once Legend collapses into the hug. He’s not hugging you back but he’s being held for the first time in... you don’t know how long. Your grip tightens.

“But I do know is that you’re not alone. Not anymore. And maybe....maybe this is the final fight. That’s why we’re all together right? A darkness so evil ahead that every hero is required and then....rest. For each and every one of you.”

You sniffle, carding your fingers through his hair without a moments hesitation. “If it’s not then I’ll fight everything for you from then on. I’ll take your place you hear me. I’ll take your job and title and you won’t have to do this anymore.”

“I’m the Hero of Legend. That’s not exactly an easy thing-”

“No. I am the hero now. I’ve decided it.” You hide the tears in his hair to the best of your ability.

Legend snorted, loud and wet but you elected to ignore it just as you were ignoring the ever growing wet spot on your shoulder. “I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“It does now. I said so.”

A beat.

“...Ok.” He sniffled and rubbed his head on your shirt. He took a deep breath and exhaled, letting the night take over the atmosphere again. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

“Don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t tell anyone.”

He nods once, definitive and final. Your expecting him to let go now and return to his roll, already electing to take over his shift as well and just push through the next day.

Except he doesn’t.

Legend calls your name, testing the waters and lifts his head up ever so slightly. “...It’s not that I’m... not... fond of you-”

“Save it for a rainy day.” You grin. “I think you’ve had your fill of emotions for the night.”

He nods and eventually slips into sleep with his head on your chest, no doubt lulled by your heartbeat.

With tearful eyes, you stare back into the fire.

Time

Time marched from the stunned group the same way a parent does after making a scathing remark instead of a lecture.

You know the one. 

“I’m not mad. Just disappointed.”

The poor boys suddenly didn’t know what to so with themselves or how to get back into Time’s good graces.

You felt for them and their awkward meandering through the camp. So, with your pride swallowed, you follow in the vague direction where Time went off to and decided to at least talk him down.

He is... decidedly harder to find than you previous imagined.

Just as your starting to think the Old Man doesn’t want to be found, you hear subtle swing. It’s to your left and it sounds heavy.

So naturally you follow it

Which leads you to a small clearing just beyond a bunch of bushes.

Time is there, full armor still on and swinging his giant sword forcefully, each swing stronger than the last. It’s as if it weighs only as much as Four. You’ve wondered in the past what it would like if he decided to actually throw the smallest ones of the group but out of fear, do not voice your ideas.

Just because Time won’t doesn’t mean that the others won’t try.

It’s hard being the responsible one when there are nine Links to take care of, each as much as a gremlin as the last. It must be hell on Time’s back to carry the group.

You see where he’s coming from and yet...

“You can stand to be a little more patient with them.” 

The words are out of your mouth before you can actually stop them.

Time stops abruptly, in both the figurative and literal sense, before the man turns to you with that same face of neutral disappointment.

“They are heroes.”

“They are also children, Time. I think that it’s because they are heroes that they deserve to act their age every now and then.”

“Slacking won’t divert the evil away from our home.”

“Running face first into the problem won’t solve it either.” You sigh and walk up the man. He tenses as you approach and slowly lets his weapon down. The Hero of Time is an intimidating creature but you refuse to let that dissuade you.

“Look, I know why you’re upset. I get it. It’s hard to get a job done when you feel like you’re the only one it’s important to... But have a little faith in our group. Please.” You plead and stop right in front of him. You have to look up at him slightly due to the angle but he was forced to acknowledge you here.

His arms cross and he opens his mouth to respond but you cut him off.

“You’re right, they are heroes and there is a job to be done and an evil to be done away with. But they were even younger when they earned the title. They still vanquished the darkness even for their age. You have to trust that they will do the same here.” You reach up and put your hands on his shoulders, getting onto your tip toes to look him in the eye better. “And they will. Because they are heroes. Because they have the spirit of courage. Because they are Link... Just like you.”

He softens his stance ever so slightly but he still doesn’t look pleased.

“It’s not easy I know.” You get down again. “But they look up to you. I think all of them do. And I can’t stand to see how hurt they look when you get upset when they act their age. It’s not like they can help it.”

He takes a deep breath and uncrossed his arms. He takes a minute to respond. Time stared at you intensely before he drops all the tension in his body and finally lets his weapon go. A single hand comes up to pat your head. 

“Let’s head back to camp.”

He says nothing else and continues to walk past you and back the way you came.

You don’t ignore the sense of accomplishment and refuse to dampen it when you catch the tiniest slivers of a smile before he turns away from you completely.

Wind

You’re lying peacefully on the dirt when you hear someone sit beside you with more power than would ever be needed.

You don’t open your eyes for the sake of the other person, not really thinking much of it and even forgetting that they were there until you heard the smallest of sniffles.

Now, you’re sitting straight up with wide and concerned eyes locking directly onto the crying form of your beloved pirate. 

It’s hard not to feel for him and while you’re not sure what sprung this up, you don’t have it in you to turn him away, or to ignore that he was upset.

Neither of you say anything and you’re almost afraid it make the picture in front of you a little too real.

Instead, you move yourself closer to him and open up your arms.

Wind doesn’t hesitate to throw himself onto you and let his body sag with unwanted emotion.

As sobs silently rack his body, you begin to feel yourself rock back and forth for both his comfort and yours. Soon you start running your hands through his hair and rub small circles on his back. 

He cries for a long time and never once gives you a clue why.

You don’t ask either.

Still, once the moment has passed, you continue to hold onto him. He doesn’t make any moves to let go of you any time soon and you’re happy to be there for as long as he’ll let you.

That doesn’t stifle your concern over the cause but you’re loath to bring it up.

Minutes pass with the boy in your arms and it’s only when you shift positions, does he look up at your face. His eyes aren’t as red anymore with the amount of time that’s passes since he’s stopped crying but his face is still a little puffy and his cheeks are both stained in tears and incredibly red.

A small smile creeps onto your face when you look back at him. “Feel better?”

“A little.” He admits and sniffles the last of the tears away, wiping his face with his sleeve. “Thanks.”

“For you? Anytime.”

Warrior

It struck you as odd that it was dinner time the group seemed to be missing someone.

Earlier that day the group had split up to take down some troublesome monsters on the border of some tiny town defenseless town and that was that.

It didn’t seem like big deal nor was it a particularly hard thing to do. The monsters weren’t infected and they didn’t have numbers on their side so your group took care of the pests in a matter of moments.

And yet, when everyone regrouped there was a visible tension.

Some thing had happened on the other side of the fight and no one wanted to fess up, even less so when Time mentioned it.

It worried you.

Now, as it stood the tension was still there but Warrior didn’t want to come out of the wood work.  He had left earlier claiming to need to check up on his appearance and no one had questioned him. No one offered to go with him.

It was always dangerous to go alone.

“Hey, has anyone seen Warrior?” You glance around again, hoping it was just a miscount on your part. “It’s been awhile since he left.”

“He takes his sweet time.” Legend snapped. “And you know how narcissistic he is. He’s probably trying to get every single little hair in the right place and working out every little blemish in his stupid uniform-”

“I’m going to look to him.” You stand, placing your cooling food down by your foot. You don’t know what happened or what caused it but at least an idea begins to form. “It’s been too long regardless. Keep my food warm for me, yeah?”

You don’t wait for a response and walk away into the tree line where you think Warrior might be.

“It’s getting dark. Be careful.” Someone calls from behind you, mouth clearly full of food.

“Yes sir.” You reply.

You march on.

When you’re sure you’re far enough away, you begin to call out to Warrior.

It takes a minute to get any results but you’re starting to worry about your friend. The sun is lowering in the horizon as time goes by and you’re beginning to feel silly and frustrated and-

“I’m here.” A tired voice replies.

“Oh thank goodness.” You cross the distance between you two. “I was really starting to worry.”

Warrior puts on a brave face and a small smile that doesn’t reach his eyes greets you when you stop in front of him. His look a little puffy and you think his eyes might be a little red but it easily be the lighting- or lack there of.

“Are you ok?”

“Obviously.”

You doubt him and it must have shown on your face because he immediately begins walking away. “Well look at the time. Crazy how fast the sun goes. Let’s get back to the group and eat. I’m starving-”

You grab his wrist as he pasts you and get a good look at him. “Are you ready to go back to the group? They can wait a little longer if you want them too.”

It irritated you that it’s come to this. How no one went to check on him. How no one offered to go with you. How no one seemed bothered by this. How long that he was alone dealing with something that’s been bothering him. How it took you so long to do something.  

“No. It’s fine.” He says. Lying. It must have really bothered him, usually he’s better than this. “It’s about time to head back anyway.”

“They can wait.” Your grip tightens. “The sun can wait. We’re not obligated to be there. What’s wrong? ...If you want to talk about it that is...” You trail off uselessly. It only occurred to you that near the end that he may not even speak about with you. You weren’t the closest in terms of grouping but you can’t stand the thought of someone hurting alone.

“I’m fin-”

“You look like you were crying.” You cut him off. “If you don’t want to talk about it with me, that’s fine, just say it. But you might need more time before you head back anyway if you actually want them to believe you when you say you’re fine.”

He sighs and runs his hand through his hair.

“Warrior?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing.”

“If it bothers you then it’s not nothing.”  You push. “But....fine. I won’t force you to talk to me. I just wanted to see if you were ok... You’re not but it’s better than seeing you bleeding I suppose.” You grit your teeth, annoyed by the lack of results. You did tell him that he didn’t have to talk to you and you don’t hurt him further but part of you wants to fix this. Even if you don’t know what it is, your heart calls for justice at his pain.

But he is unwilling.

“Camp is this way by the way.” You mention, looking at the ground. “You were actually farther away than I thought, so it’s a bit of a walk.”

“I just think it’s easier for people when I’m not around.”

You still and slowly turn to face him. 

He’s looking at the ground as well, unable to say it and look you in the eye. It’s not what you were expecting and you’re not sure how to follow after that.

It’s a rare moment of vulnerability for him- even rarer that he’s showing it to you and you don’t want to squander the show of trust.

“Back home...there was a lot of... attention on me. A lot of blame... for starting the war. Or at least being the cause of it.” He admits, scuffing his shoe against the dirt. A little bit kicks up and sticks to the toe. He does nothing about it. “People listened to what I had to say because I was some destined hero. At first I didn’t think anything of it because I had thought it was one big mistake and sooner or later people were going to see that I was just some soldier not worth the time of day. It happened to be pure luck that Impa got it right when she gave me this uniform. Zelda made me a captain because of it and suddenly I had all of these men I had to give orders to. And if anything failed or if we lost, it would all have fallen on me. The blame, the guilt, the responsibility of the war...and then we found out why Cia was even opening these portals to begin with-”

You hug him.

“Please don’t cry.” You say into his chest. Your throat is tight and it a little hard to breath but you power through. “I’m not good at this. I never have been.”

“I’m not going to cry. It’s not worth crying.”

“I’ll cry for you then.” You admit and hug him tighter. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. It was no ones fault.” Warrior hugs you back and rests his head on top of yours. His voice seems a little tight too and you’re sorry for all the things that he must have gone through. 

You hug him for as long as you deem appropriate before letting your arms go lack and stepping away.

Or... at least you try to.

Warrior suddenly has a grip on you and refuses to let you leave.

“Please... Just stay a little longer.”

You do.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #I had no idea where exactly to go with this one #believe it or not I wrote Legends first. #I didn't know it would get as long as it did #are these a bit generic? #yes. #warrior's is also very long #sorry not sorry #should I have split this one? #probably. #did I? #no. #it took days ya'll #next time I'll split it again

[thetargaryenbride]

Quick [Levi x Reader]

Summary: A quick way to break someone’s jaw. Because nobody disrespected you and got to live. 

Warnings: Some vulgarity followed by beating and blood~ 

The idea got to me after I watched a TikTok [https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMe8jT1Qc/] so I decided to write this short, little scenario hehe. Hopy you like it <3 

Word Count: 1261

Feedback is deeply appreciated~!

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The Mess Hall was stuffed to the brim with soldiers. Everyone was celebrating and you couldn’t remember when was the last time you’d seen them so happy.

The past few months had been amazing – full of successful expeditions. The Survey Corps was steadily advancing and building a route with the purpose of reclaiming Wall Maria and even the people have began to put their trust in them and support them which hadn’t happened in years. Hell, even the funds had risen.  

That’s why Erwin didn’t have the heart to deny them some celebration. He and the higher-ups had bought meat and higher quality ale and alcohol than what they usually could afford.

Everyone was laughing, eating, brawling playfully and drinking. It was a beautiful sight to see and it almost brought tears to your eyes.

You buried your face in Levi’s shoulder and he let out a sigh as he put down his mug.

“You’re drunk,” he stated and you chuckled slightly.

“I’m just happy to see them like this,” you muttered and Hange, Erwin and the others shot you smiles from across the table. Maybe you were drunk. You stopped counting the mugs of ale. But was it wrong of you to let loose at least once? And even if you were drunk, what was so bad about it? It’s not like everyone had such ungodly high tolerance as Levi.

“I’d say it’s about time we got the recognition we deserved,” hummed Nanaba and Mike nodded silently next to her before sipping from his glass.

You straightened and attempted to grab the bottle of whiskey when Levi snatched it away from your reach, making you frown at him.

“Hey! I want to drink some more,” you huffed and he glared at you.

“Tch, you’ve had enough,” he all but ordered as his eyes scanned your form. Your face was flushed and your eyes were drooping. Yeah, you were definitely a combination of sad and sleepy drunk.

“But Levi,” you whined and he simply blinked unamusedly before he grabbed your hand and stood up, carefully hauling you up and catching you when you stumbled.

“You’re going to bed,” he grunted as he steadied you and began walking. Moving through the bodies of rowdy soldiers proved to be easier than climbing the stairs to his office and your shared quarters. But since you were away from prying eyes he allowed himself to lift you in his arms and carry you. He held you tightly and supported your body with one leg as he pushed open the door. His office was dark and cold and he clicked his tongue, berating himself for forgetting to light a candle. He quickly entered the bedroom and sat you down on the bed. You swayed and hummed softly under your breath, eyes closed in peace while he knelt and took off your boots before proceeding to rid you of the constricting harness and your uniform.

The moment you felt the weight of clothes disappearing you let out a sigh of relief before collapsing, your head hitting the pillow. The man shook his head as a small chuckle left his lips, his hand moving to brush fallen strands of hair from your face. He grabbed your legs and properly positioned you onto the mattress before taking the neatly folded comforter and draping it over your form, tucking you in. Soft snores were already coming out of you and he realized you were fast asleep.

He was just about to begin taking off his own uniform when a thought struck him. When you wake up tomorrow, you will definitely be thirsty. He didn’t hesitate to whirl and exit your quarters, going down the stairs and towards the kitchens in order to take a glass and fill a jug of water. His descent down the stairs was halted, though, when a cadet stood in his way. Before Levi could tell him to go sleep and not cause troubles, since the boy was visibly drunk, he was interrupted by said boy asking him a question. A question that created a raging fire within him, had his eyes narrow, fist clench painfully and eyebrow tick. 

“Damn, you were quick,” commented the boy with a shocked yet impressed expression before it shifted into a smug grin. “Can I have a go too?”

A heavy kick connected with his face faster than the words tumbled from his mouth, causing him to fly down the stairs and crash heavily onto the stone floor, the sound of bone cracking resonating through the deserted hallways. The boy groaned as he sat up painfully slow, his hand flying to his now dislocated shoulder before moving to wipe the blood that trickled down his forehead. The sound of clicking boots echoed, drawled, and the boy gasped and trembled as he backed away.

Levi finally came into view and stopped in front of the soldier, glaring down at him. He couldn’t believe the audacity of this kid, offering something so lewd and disgusting. You were his lover, even though nobody knew aside from the higher-ups, and he would be damned to let anyone degrade you like this. And when he thought about the possibility of this person treating other women like this, he got even more pissed. He raised his foot as if to kick him again and the boy clutched his head and curled into himself for protection. Levi tsked, not even a sliver of sympathy crossing his features, as he set the foot down onto his back and pressed, making the soldier wince.

“If I catch you disrespecting or preying on anyone, you’ll be thrown off of Wall Maria faster than you can shout titan,” growled Levi as he pressed his foot harsher and harsher with each word. “I’m sure that after some disciplining even a disgrace like yourself will be able to understand the severity of your behavior and will not repeat the same mistakes…Am I clear?” he spat out and the boy nodded vigorously. Levi finally removed his leg and, after one final glance, walked away.

“And that’s a month of stable duty for you.”

-------

When he returned you were still soundly sleeping. He took a few moments to admire your beauty - the moonlight illuminating your face, your parted lips, the rise and fall of your chest, your disheveled hair and the way you would sometimes nuzzle into the pillow. He set the jug and the glass on the nightstand and began taking off his uniform, letting out a sigh of relief once he was free from it. He slid under the blankets and wrapped his arms around your form, bringing you closer – his front pressing against your back as he placed a soft kiss on your shoulder and buried his face in your neck. He knew he wasn’t good with expressing himself which is why you probably didn’t know but…

To him, you were the most precious person in his life and he would never allow anyone to do, say or even think of something that may hurt or disrespect you. He was ready to beat anyone to a bloody pulp and go back to his murderous thug self in a heartbeat if it meant protecting you.

“Levi?” your slurry, laced with sleep voice interrupted his train of thoughts as you stirred in his arms until you were able to turn and face him. “What is it?” you mumbled and he shook his head as he once again took you in his arms and placed a kiss on your forehead.

“Nothing. Let’s sleep.”

#aot x reader #snk x reader #levi x reader #reader imagine #reader #reader insert #levi ackerman x reader

[amorgansgal]

Hey! This is an oddly specific requests…. So Arthur’s girlfriend is Italian, and he loves when she shows her Italian side come out. After meeting Angelo Bronte, Dutch sends her to work as a maid there, since her English is perfect and she would overhear their secrets. Arthur doesn’t like it, but he has to agree. After finally managing to capture him, the reader starts snarling at him in Italian, and the gang members look confused. She then breaks down and runs away. Arthur follows her and and admits a certain man tried to rape her, but she managed to break free. Arthur becomes furious and goes to kill him, coming back and comforting her. Ending with him repeating his everlasting love to her! Sorry this is so specific…

Ok, so I’ve slightly changed this. We’ve still got everything else there, but I’m going to fiddle with the working as a maid bit. I’m really sorry, this probably is so nitpicky and a bit sad that I’m making a fuss over this. But being a maid in a household like that would have been quite the prestigious role to have. You’d need excellent references and prior, proven experience. However, I think we could work with the reader forming a relationship with one of Bronte’s men. Hope that’s ok, sorry for messing with the premise. My historical brain just wouldn’t let me do it! Hope that's ok.

Arthur and Italian F/Reader

Arthur can’t stand this. It makes perfect sense and he understands why Dutch is doing it, but having you flirt with Bronte’s men is just something he hates.

And of course, he can’t really be around when you do so, because Bronte knows what he, Dutch and John look like. Trelawny is asked to keep an eye on you, but what the hell can he do if things get nasty?

You try to assure Arthur many times that you’re safe and nothing bad will happen to you, but even you don’t like it when one of Bronte’s men starts getting handsy with you.

You’re able to find some very useful information out. Hanging around them as they drink and play cards, they gossip more than washerwomen. You play the ditzy, foolish girl well and none of them think you’re feeding this information back to Trelawny who can then pass it onto Dutch.

You daren’t tell Arthur how pushy the man who has taken a shine to you is, how he tries to touch you, how it’s harder to laugh and smile teasingly and push him off.

At one point, the man can no longer take no for an answer, he pushes you into a private room, shoves you down on a table and begins to push up your skirts, determined to take what he sees as his right.

The only reason he stops is Bronte walks into the room and demands he comes to help with something. Bronte offers you no sympathy or support, just smirks on seeing your fearful, tear streaked face and runs his eyes over your bare legs.

On the rare occasion you finally meet up with Arthur and Dutch, you beg Dutch to let you finish this nonsense and come back to the gang.

But he’s not the same man you once knew and insists you continue you work there, because it’s invaluable. You can see Arthur looking angry and pained, but you keep the problems a secret because you don’t want him to suffer more.

***

You get no satisfaction from the contempt, anger and fear in Bronte’s eyes. Though his eyes widen as he recognises you and you snarl that maybe he shouldn’t have let one of his men try to have their way with you, if he wanted help.

You turn your head when Dutch drowns the man and as soon as you’re off the boat, you move away from the Van Der Linde Gang, trying to calm yourself and ignore the way you feel sick.

Arthur finds you and tries to get you to come back with the other gang members, but you adamantly shake your head.

For someone who is so usually confident and excitable, Arthur hates seeing this frightened, small version of yourself.

He tries to find out what’s wrong, but you say nothing. Eventually you cling tightly to him and he holds you, keeping you safe in his arms.

He whispers that he loves you, that he’ll never let Dutch do anything like that to you again, that you’re safe. But you feel sick to your stomach and know the only way he can keep all those promises is if you both leave.

#arthur morgan x f!reader #arthur morgan x f/reader #arthur morgan x f reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan #arthur morgan hc #arthur morgan headcanon #angelo bronte #dutch van der linde #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2