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judyfromfinance · 10 months

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Nymphology

The Homelander/Reader

Nymphology by Melanie Martinez

Summary: He was fucked in the head. You knew that.

You were fucked in the head. He knew that now.

God, you were perfect for each other.

Warnings: Homelander being kinda outta character, he’s more “I’ll kill for you” Yandere than a “I’ll kill you” Yandere. So the reader will not get hurt in this, at least not by Homelander. Violence, Shouting, Swearing. Death. Lying. Manipulation. NSFW themes. (If there’s anything I’m missing please let me know and I’ll add it, thank you)

Look, imma be straight up… I’ve never seen the show. Nor have I read the comics. I don’t know what’s happening or going on. I don’t really know the plot. Everything I know is second hand that I’ve read through the 20 fics I’ve read so far of this man. So take that into consideration when reading my fic. Out of character moments and plot points being misused, forgotten or just totally made up in my mind will happen. And if that’s something you don’t like that’s ok and I understand.

I blame tumblr for suggesting a fic by @blindmagdalena This man wasn’t even on my radar and then I read her fic Say It, chapters 1,2 and 3. Boy howdy, did that fic change my psyche forever. Like I don’t plan to watch the show at all, yet here I am consuming (and now producing) content for this man that truly doesn’t deserve it because he’s awful.

Also, the lyrics from the song I am using will not be in order. I cherry picked the ones I wanted to use for this fic. Now with everything off my chest. Let’s go.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Everything was different now. You were different now. Moving to New York from California was a risky move. But you wanted to take that risk. You wanted a better life. No more fear. No more anguish. Well, the universe had other plans and gave it all right back to you and then some. And it was packaged in bright patriotic colors. He flew into your life the same way he flew through the air, elegantly but fast.

You were never one to blindly idolize supes. You didn’t hate them either. You just… you treated them like you treated every other celebrity in your radar. You thanked them for their service of either saving you or entertaining you and then you went on your merry way. That’s how you met. That’s what got his attention. You being so normal. So unremarkable, it made you remarkable in his eyes. How that works, you’ll never know. But it’s not like you can question it now. You’re trapped within his prickly vines. You move an inch out of place and you’ll get stabbed by his thorns. And he does it all while he looks at you with the utmost love in his oceanic eyes. The rose. The National flower of the USA. Symbolizing love and devotion. Beauty and eternity. But for you, it only symbolized death and destruction. But you must’ve forgotten that death can also mean change. A new beginning. Were you changing for the better?

Or for the worst?

~Damaged oddity, bought by Sotheby’s

Auctioned to a selfish man who thinks that he’s the prophecy~

“You can’t wear that.” John said, his back to you as you hear him fix his gloves. The squeak of the leather irritating to your ears.

“Why not?” You asked as he turns around. You smooth out the black expanse of your dress. You don’t understand why he wouldn’t like it. He’s the one that bought it.

“Because it doesn’t match my suit.” He said it so matter factly that it almost made you feel stupid for not putting on something else. Almost. You shook your head in disbelief.

“Nothing really goes with your suit.” You back track. “Because it’s so unique, ya know? How am I supposed to find a dress that matches?” He smiles that pearly white smile. Every time he opens his mouth you’re shocked to not find blood staining his teeth. He lifts a glove up before pointing towards you.

“You should have just asked me hun? I have just the thing.” He then briskly turns to his side of the closet and pulls out a black box you haven’t seen before. His cape bristles behind him, almost as if it’s trying to escape. You tried that before. It didn’t end well. You feel for the cape, you truly do. He hands you the box before ushering you to the bathroom.

“Go on. It was specially made by Vought’s finest tailors. Obviously to complement yours truly.” Ah, Vought. What wouldn’t those selfish pricks do for their golden goose? You nod along as you enter the bathroom. You know he’s watching you through the walls. You don’t care anymore. He’s seen everything there is to see when it comes to you. Inside and out. He likes to pretend you guys are a normal couple. When he tells you to change in the bathroom, like he’s a gentleman. When in fact he’s everything but. You lift the dress out of the box. It’s the same shade of navy blue as his suit with slight red highlights on the v-neck of the dress. It’s a mix of sexy and modest. Showcasing just a bit of your chest but a lot of your back. The heels were a matching red. Same as his boots. And underneath it all were golden accessories. Earrings, a necklace and a bracelet. To match his golden eagle shoulder applications. You put everything on as you fixed your slightly tousled hair from changing. You turned in the mirror and examined yourself. You didn’t look half bad. You run your hands over your body before finally leaving the bathroom.

“Is this better?” Before he could even ask you did a slow twirl in front of him so he could see it all. His shark like smile softens as he sees you parading around in his colors. And no, the colors didn’t belong to America. They belonged to him. He opened his palm towards you and you took it. He brought you in as close as he could, his breath brushing past your ear.

“You look perfect.” You can feel yourself start to flush at the compliment. Little tiny butterflies banging around your stomach. Threatening to eat you from the inside out. You don’t know when a bug laid eggs in your brain or when those said eggs hatched into the destructive, carnivorous butterflies that they were. But you don’t seem to mind it much. In fact, it feels kind of nice.

“Now everyone will be able to see that you belong to me.”

~Call me your muse

A sprite or an elf you cry to, then use~

Bright lights. Bright people. Shining words that mean nothing to the speaker but everything to the audience. False hope. False promises. Spilled from the lips of the people that you were supposed to trust with your life, like milk from a toddlers lips. Messy. Uncouth. But only behind the scenes. In front of the cameras, they were nothing but America’s little darlings. And if they weren’t, if they happened to slip? Vought would clean up their mess like the good mother it was.

You sat on the sidelines as each Supe went up to say something into the mic that’ll help boost their image. You sat quietly. You sat gracefully. The man next to you however, wasn’t supposed to be there. But you didn’t know that. Your back was to the table, eyes on Starlight as she spun golden promises to the media hounds. Your drink sat quietly behind you. Your drink sat gracefully as it bubbled with whatever drug that the man sitting next you put into it, before finally stilling. Appearing as nothing more than normal champagne. You turned to grab your drink. A quite excuse me leaving your lips before taking a few sips. Homelander would be coming up next.

He said he had planned his entire speech around you. It was his idea but one that Vought approved of. Telling people of his beautiful none-supe girlfriend. Spinning a tale similar to that of Superman and Louis Lane. You were his muse. You were his everything. Plainly and simply, you were his. And the world needed to know. Because the world was also his. He wanted you there for his speech because after all was said and done, he’d pull you up on the stage with him and show you off as his one and only darling.

You started to feel queasy. At first you thought it might be stage fright. The fear of so many eyes on you. Always watching. Watching you forever and ever until the day that you die. If you die. If he lets you die. You’re not sure if he’s capable of letting you go. But then your heart rate picked up. Pounding in your ears to the point that you didn’t hear the familiar clack of boots that you know oh so well. Sweat started to pour from your face as you started to shake. What the hell was wrong with you? You tried to get up to go to the restroom but your legs gave out before you could fully stand up. Luckily you were caught by arms that held the strength of a god within them. Your eyesight started to blur as your hearing came back tenfold. You could hear every minuscule little sound in the room. It brought on a terrible headache.

Homelander’s eyes scanned your vitals and can see what was wrong with you immediately. You begged him to take you home as you cried. You apologized for ruining his speech. For ruining his night. As you sputtered out apology after apology you didn’t notice the blood that started to ooze from your nose and your mouth. He grabbed you face as he told you to kindly “Shut up.” He noticed some of your organs on the brink of starting to fail as he rushed you behind the curtains. He barked for Vought security to take you back to the tower. His penthouse as he called some of the best Vought paid physicians. He warned them that if they weren’t there before you were they’d have to answer to him. Sadly he couldn’t go with you. This was an important event and if he left now, not only would it damage his numbers but it would make the company look bad. Honestly, he was going to be angry at you for being stupid enough to be drugged at an event filled to the brim with Superhero’s and high level security. He would have gripped your face till you offered up a real apology. He would have, if it wasn’t for the fact that you finally… finally referred to his penthouse as your home.

Your home. He immediately felt a surge of pride fill his entire being. His penthouse was an extension of himself. It was home. He was home. He immediately felt himself stiffen in his pants as he almost creamed them. But he held it off. His cum was only for you. Plus, you were dying, so he supposed he could wait to fuck your brains out till you weren’t. And once the doctors gave him the all clear, you’re fucked. But until then he can play the thoughtful boyfriend, only caring about his girl’s safety.

~You’re in a spell and it worked, and I’m returning the hurt

Cut you off, watch you die, just a fairy with a knife~

As you were rushed into an all black car your vision returned. Your hearing also went back to normal but you can still feel your body dying. Everything in you was twisting and turning in ways that it shouldn’t. Or at least that’s what it felt like. Your mind was going, going, then gone. Paranoia started to creep in on the sides. It’s shriveled hands gripping your heart and refusing to let go. Who did this to you? Were they trying to kill you to get to Homelander? And why… why did you care? Why was one of your first thoughts about him and not about yourself? The car came to an abrupt stop as 2 men and 1 woman immediately pulled you out. They shoved you onto a cot as they made a beeline for the elevator. You assumed they were doctors despite them not wearing anything remotely professional. They talked back and forth as they poked and prodded at you. The elevator ticked closer, up and up. You tried to answer their questions to the best of your abilities.

Sadly they were limited on what they could do since they didn’t dare take you to the medical ward in the tower. Homelander gave them specific instructions and they will follow them to the letter. One doctor was constantly making trips back and forth, bringing all of their materials to them. They eventually made a makeshift hospital room in the living area. They flushed the drugs out of your system as well as they could. The EKG hooked up to you was showcasing good results. You could be better but you weren’t going to die. Which is what they were tasked to do. An air of relief resided in the atmosphere amongst the doctors. They asked if you needed anything before making their leave. John probably didn’t want them in here longer than they needed to be.

Your body felt sluggish. Like every time you tried to move you felt like you were in water. So cold and dark. Your mind was at war. You knew you were safe now but you felt in your heart that you weren’t. What kind of drugs were pumped into you? It was having a field day with your mind and you body. Like a caged animal finally let loose. You guessed that the only thing you could do was fall asleep, let your mind and body rest and heal while you wait for John to get back home. Hopefully he wasn’t upset. You close your eyes and try to even your breathing. In. Out. You shift to get more comfortable. In. Out. In. Out. Your breathing became slower and slower until you heard footsteps come from the bedroom. You opened your eyes and stared at the hallway waiting for the hero to walk in. He never did. Was this a test? Was he mad?

“John? John is that you?” You got up out of the bed, still in your dress minus the shoes and accessories. You grabbed the IV drip connected to your arm as you continue to walk forward. Maybe he was waiting on you to get to him. You try to call his name once more before your cut off by a hand around your mouth and an arm around your throat. You swing the heavy duty pole around in hopes to dissuade your attacker. This wasn’t John. There was no squeaky obnoxious leather. No smell of iron that permeated from the palm of his hand. This was not your John. You hit him and he lets go of you with a small yelp.

“You fucking bitch.” He grips the IV pole and you struggle to keep a hold on it. Your weak as he jostles it out of your grip and you tumble to the floor. The needles in your arms being pulled out by the force of it all. You stumble to your feet as you head to kitchen through the living room. The heavy footsteps follow you as the unknown man tackles you to the floor. Your nose banging against the cool tile of the kitchen. A sharp pang radiates from your nose as blood gushes down and out. The irony taste in your mouth is spat back out as you scream in terror and in anger. The burly man flips you over and you finally get a good look at him. He’s heavy set. Unruly scruff covering his chin and cheeks. Brown eyes stared at you in anger as he held you down with his body weight. You don’t know him. But you’ve seen him before.

Yeah. You’ve seen him before. That day you tried to leave. It didn’t end well. And not just for you but for a lot of others as well. You remember holding onto John for dear life as he forced you to watch first hand as he lasered the building down that you were hiding in. Including everyone in it. Their screams of pain and terror. Begging for someone, anyone… for Homelander to save them. No one would come. You saw as people tried to drag their loved ones out of the debris. They looked like tiny ants scattering away as a mean kid knocked down their hill. You thought you’d remember those cries of agony forever but they’ve gotten quieter over the past few months. Why is that? You’re brought back to the present as you’re slapped harshly across the face. The blood from your nose spreading droplets across the bottom of the kitchen counters.

“You useless fucking bitch.” His spit flying everywhere as he tried to contain all the hatred in his body. He was shaking as badly as you were earlier last night. But unlike you, he was shaking from pure unadulterated anger.

“You think you’re above everyone else? Huh?! Even if you aren’t a fucking supe! You’re just like them. Helping them cover up their fucking crimes!” You tried to wiggle out of his grip but he kneed you in the gut. You gasped for air as you tried not spill your stomach contents onto the floor.

“Stop squirming. You deserve everything that’s gonna happen tonight.” He straddles your legs to keep them from moving as he sits up. He looks down at you in disgust.

“He took something from me. So I’ll take something from him. This is for Marie.” Before he could say or do anything else you use your entire body weight to knock him off balance. His head ricocheted off the marble counter as you scrambled away to the knife block. You grab the biggest one you could find before turning around. He was gone. You spin around and try to locate the intruder. You walk around the center island, your breath coming out short and staggered.

“Where the fuck are you?” You mumble to yourself. The question wasn’t only meant for the man in your home. But the man you were waiting on to come home. The Gala should be over by now. How has no one heard you struggling yet? Was the building really that empty? Or maybe it was John’s penthouse specifically that was sound proof? You could believe that. You walk closer to your makeshift hospital bed as you keep your eyes wide open. The scruffy man pops up out of nowhere as he pushes your cot over and knocks you down, your knife skittering away. He hops on top of you and you see blood pouring from a cut on his head. His hands are around your throat as he presses down.

“I hope you know just how much I’m enjoying this.” He squeezes tighter as you arms start to flail.

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna kill you just yet. I need you in order to get to him. You’re my leverage.” What a fucking dumb piece of shit. Did he really think he could take on Homelander. Your fucking John. He could see the questioning look in your eyes. He kept one hand around your throat threateningly as his other found it’s way into his coat pocket. A syringe was pulled out. You struggled but all he did was click his tongue.

“It’s not for you dumbass. It’s for me. A few buddies of mine helped me get this uh, this shit called Compound V. Heard it’s very useful.” He smiles down at you. A sickly deranged smile. And although you knew that there was no one like Homelander. No one that could even think of beating him. Your heart started to race in fear. Not just for your safety but for his as well. Why? He pinched your broken nose as you screamed in pain.

“Don’t fucking move this time.” He rolls up his sleeve as he gets ready to inject himself. With all the strength that’s left in your body, which isn’t much, you grab at the handle of the knife and aim straight for his head. The wet squelch of flesh and the sick crunch of bone was all you could hear. The man above you gasped as he slowly brought his hands up to his head. The syringe laying forgotten on the ground. You push him onto his back as you grab the knife out of his head. Blood pooling on the pristine rug. You lift the blade up as you plunged it back down into his chest. Over and over and over and over and over and… you didn’t stop. You kept going. His chest. His face. You were covered in blood. As red as the roses that John gave you on your supposed first date. If he could see you now, he’d think you were beautiful. You just know it. You eventually slowed down. Leaving the man underneath you nothing more than ground meat. You dropped the knife in shock as you stood on shaky legs. You threw up all over the decimated body before you. A mixture of the drugs leaving your system and just pure utter disgust at what you’ve just done. You ran out onto the balcony as you screamed into the night, begging for him to get home.

“John!!!”

~Call me your nymph

Praise me for martyr, praise me for sin~

Homelander was finally flying home to his girl. The doctors called him a couple of hours ago telling him everything in detail about what was wrong with you and how they fixed it. You were doing fine now. Safe and secure in your shared home. He didn’t thank them as he hung up the phone, he sadly had some more shmoozing to do amongst the fucking filthy pigsty that they called a ballroom. But that was all behind him now. He could head home. Maybe get a few kisses from you for saving your life. He’s not even halfway towards the tower before he hears a blood curdling scream in the night. If it was just a random person, he wouldn’t have stopped. Well… maybe, just to satiate his curiosity before he up and left. But he could tell by the sweet lilt in their voice that it wasn’t some fucking rando on the street. It was you. You were screaming his name.

In just a few seconds flat he was back in his penthouse. Everything was fucking destroyed. He stepped in a pool of blood before he quietly listened for your heartbeat. He let out a sigh of relief as he heard your distinctive heart. Beating only for him.

“(Y/n). Where are you? Come on out, I’m here now.” He rounded the corner of his couch and stood over a disgusting mangled corpse. Did you do all that? Wow. Who knew you had that in you? He stood in the blood and guts and waited for you to come to him.

You opened the terrace doors. John’s voice a soothing balm for your wounded mind. You entered the bloody crime scene but refused to look at anything other than his smile. So devastatingly handsome. You ignored to the best of you abilities the blood and flesh on the floor as ran to him for comfort. He wrapped his arms around you and squeezed, a small gesture to let you know that he’s here now. Your hero is here. You sobbed as you told him about the dumb cocksucker that you killed. He just nodded his head and rubbed your back. He picked you up and cradled you in his arms, not caring about the blood smearing all over his suit. You finally open your eyes to notice that you were in the bathroom. John starts to get a bath going.

“Come on. Strip. You reek of blood.” You do as he says.

“Will you stay with me?” He looks towards you and chuckles.

“You’re covered in blood hun. You want me to stay in the bathroom and watch you wash up?” He shakes his head before he checks the temperature of the water. You don’t understand where this confidence came from but you don’t question it as you walk closer to him and start to help him undress as well. He looks down towards you in confusion.

“You’re staying with me. You’re not leaving me.” You stare back up into his eyes and he can tell that there’s no room for questioning you. So he doesn’t. He undressed and hops into the tub first. It was huge, so it was perfect for this. You follow after him. He helps wash the blood and brain matter out of your hair as you just gaze a hole into the wall. Usually he’d be complaining that you should be doing this for him, but he’ll let it slide. After all, you were such a good girl today. As he finishes washing out your hair he moves onto your body. He turns you around towards him, wash cloth in hand as he gently swipes the blood off your face. The water around you two growing murkier and murkier.

“You know it’s fine right? You’re not gonna get into any trouble.” You look up into his eyes as he continues.

“That fucker was going to kill you. You had no other choice.” You slowly start to shake your head as your eyebrows furrow.

“No.”

“No?” He questions.

“No. He wasn’t. He was gonna keep me alive till you got home. He wanted to get to you through me. And I…” you look down at your hands. The ones you used to kill for him. The man you’re sitting in the lap of.

“I know that he had no chance of even touching you.” You brought your hand up, scrubbing at your eye in desperation. You look back up towards John. A fire in your eyes he hasn’t seen before.

“I know you’re stronger than anything on this fucking planet but I just got so…” you clench and unclench your fists. Heavy, laden breaths escaping you.

“I just got so fucking angry. You know? I didn’t… I just… All I was thinking about was you.” You laugh a little. Feeling hysteria building within you. You wanted to cry. You wanted to laugh. You wanted to scream. And you wanted to do it all for the man in front of you. John just looked at you as he felt a wave a pure love wash over him. You did that for him. You killed the piece of shit for him. And he wanted to prove that he’d do the same for you. A whole block of civilians meant nothing to him. He sits up straighter as he grabs your sides and pulls you closer. His lips hovering over yours. Petal soft lips brush his.

“I fucking love you.” And for the first time in this tumultuous relationship that you both had, you finally said the words that he’s wanted to hear his whole goddamn life.

“I love you too.” You both kiss as the moonlight filters in through the window. Groping and touching as you rip your souls out of each other, as if to say yours is mine and mine is yours. Your mind briefly flickers to the syringe of Compound V that was hidden underneath the couch before the love of your life enters you and your whole world shatters away, and all you can think about is him. But don’t worry, all he’s thinking about is you too.

~I won’t be ashamed, yeah

For lovin’ you so honestly~

#the homelander #the Homelander/reader #homelander #homelander x you #welp #that’s it I guess lol

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skyward-floored · 1 year

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Hyrule Warriors - oneshot

Hello there, I’m sick and not up for much, so I’m crossposting some oneshots from my zelink/other ships fic on ao3 that never made it to tumblr :) (which are also technically courage of ages but shhhh)

Anyway, first up is Hyrule Warriors! Them <3

————————————————————

“What’s up buttercup?”

Zelda rolled her eyes at the call that came from her balcony, getting up with an eagerness rather contrary to the exasperated expression she wore.

Strolling outside, she looked up the wall where the voice had come from, putting a hand on her hip as she saw Link dangling from a ledge several feet up. He was hard to see, silhouetted by the setting sun, but his scarf flared out behind him and made him easier to spot.

“You I’d have to guess,” she answered dryly, and felt her heart flutter when she made out Link grinning at her.

He then began climbing his way down the vines growing along the side of the castle, slowly so as not to slip. Zelda watched him climb for a moment, wincing when he missed a foothold and slipped a bit anyway.

“You could have come through the door you know,” she suggested as he clambered down, “less general risk to life and limb.”

“Too many people around,” he replied, landing with a flourish a few feet away from her. “Would’ve been too many questions.”

She smiled at his dramatic entrance, rolling her eyes as he bowed.

“One of your better landings,” she teased, and Link gave her a winning smile, then promptly tripped over a loose stone.

Zelda let out a laugh as he flailed, only barely managing to catch himself and not face-plant. He leaned casually on the railing around the balcony, and pointedly ignored the fact that his scarf was twisted oddly around his leg.

“I meant to do that.”

“Mm.”

Zelda began to walk back into her room, and Link followed her, trying to shake out his leg without her noticing. “I did!”

“Of course, hero.”

She sat back down at her desk, with Link a few steps behind her, letting out a yawn as she picked up her pen again and went back to filling in the documents.

“And what fun-filled paperwork are we doing this evening?” Link asked, leaning over and completely blocking her light. She swatted him with her writing instrument, and he pulled back, giving her another grin. She somehow managed to hold in her amusement at the large smear of ink across his nose he didn’t notice, looking back at her desk with a small sigh.

“Only a hundred or so papers that need my signature.” She tried to make sure it wasn’t a complaint, but the tiredness leaked out through her voice anyway. “I’ve been at it all afternoon, I swear that stack has multiplied.”

Link looked at the large pile of papers still sitting on her desk, and the playfulness faded from his eyes.

“You need to get out for a bit?” he asked gently.

Zelda sighed again and shook her head. Goodness did she ever.

“I wish I could. But I’ve got to finish these, and there’s a meeting tonight as well. If we go anywhere I won’t have enough time to come back and prepare,” she said disappointedly.

Link’s brows lowered a bit. “Council meeting?”

Zelda rubbed her forehead, feeling a headache coming on at the mere thought of it. “Yes. It should just be business as usual. We’re supposed to discuss farming communities affected by the war and how to provide assistance for those worst hit, but...”

“...But?”

Zelda sighed. “They’ve been bringing up marriage again.”

Link’s face turned worried, though it held an equal amount of outrage along with it. The council hated him, and the feeling was definitely mutual, but recently their vendetta against Link had gotten much more personal. They were now trying to convince Zelda she needed to marry as soon as possible, and any suitors had to be royalty.

Which Link was not.

“Again? I thought Impa had gotten them off your back about that,” he muttered, an edge to his voice.

“She had. But since she’s checking on those monsters by the Lost Woods they must figure they can get away with it,” she groaned, “if I have to hear about how rich Prince Roalphu of Labrynna is again I may just bring my rapier along.”

Link didn’t laugh at her words like he usually would, instead going quiet.

Zelda went quiet as well, watching as Link seemed to think something over. His mouth was pressed in a worried line, wrinkling the scar on his jaw, and when he looked back up his expression was surprisingly gentle.

“Zelda...” he finally spoke in a soft voice. “You don’t have to marry anyone you don’t want to, you know that right?”

Zelda looked at him seriously, feeling her heart ache. “I know. But Hyrule might need me to.”

Silence fell between them.

Zelda looked down at the parchment in front of her, running a tired hand across her eyes. Of course she didn’t want to marry any of the pompous idiots her council kept recommending to her, they were all numbskulls who cared nothing for her or for Hyrule as a whole. But the truth was that the kingdom wasn’t in the best of shapes after such a disruptive and messy war, and funds were on the low side of things.

And if marrying a pompous idiot could help with that, then she’d put aside her own feelings and do what she had to.

She sighed yet again, and felt Link slip his hand into hers, giving it the gentlest of squeezes. She squeezed back and looked up, meeting his bright blue eyes.

“Sorry,” she apologized quietly. “You snuck in here to visit me and here I am just complaining.”

“It’s alright,” Link replied, his voice gentle. “I get it. I imagine it’s worse without Impa around.”

“It is,” Zelda admitted in a whisper.

Link squeezed her hand again, then leaned in, gently bumping his head with hers. She leaned in as well and he gave her a smile.

“Well, we may not have time to sneak out, but we could always do something here,” he suggested, changing the subject.

Zelda raised a suspicious eyebrow. “Oh yes? Like what?”

His eyes twinkled.

“Game of chess?”

Zelda stared at him, her brows narrowing. “Link that never ends well.”

He smirked, twirling her pen he’d somehow stolen. “Sounds like you’re just afraid you’ll lose.”

Zelda knew exactly what he was trying to do, and hated that he knew her well enough that he knew it’d work. Both of them were excellent strategists, so much that games of chess could get rather heated at times. They were about even in ability as well, so it was never a given which one of them would win.

And Link knew fully well a game always cheered her up.

She sighed and poked his chest with her finger. “Fine. One game. But then I get back to work.”

Link smiled at her, his eyes still twinkling maddeningly.

“Of course your highness.”

(...)

Zelda fell asleep halfway through their third game.

Link smiled at her head resting on the edge of the chessboard, hair having knocked over several pieces while a rook pressed up against her cheek in a way that couldn’t have been comfortable.

He gently tugged it out, deftly replacing it with a pillow he borrowed from her bed, then draped a blanket over her as well.

As suited as Zelda was to the stress of battles and the split-second decisions that arose from them, politics and their stressors were a whole other deal, one that wore her out more then Link knew she’d ever admit. And this kind of stress always made her sleepy, which he also knew would win out the moment she felt like she could relax a little.

She shifted a little and he smiled, fixing the blanket around her shoulders.

He glanced over at the pile of papers on her desk, and twirled Zelda’s pen thoughtfully in his fingers as he wandered closer to the stack. He’d seen her sign hundreds of things like this... maybe he could lighten her load a bit.

Forging signatures may have technically been illegal, but in this case Link was willing to bend the rules a bit. Zelda would certainly do the same for him.

He nodded to himself, decision made, pressed a kiss to Zelda’s forehead, and cracked his knuckles and got to work.

(...)

By the time Zelda woke up for her meeting, he was gone, nothing but a complete pile of signed documents and a smear of ink on her desk to show he’d ever been in the room.

#Hyrule Warriors #zelink #Hyrule warriors zelink #loz fic #legend of zelda fanfiction #courage of ages #coa era #writing from the floor #this is keeping me busy alright #I’m achy and tired but this at least FEELS useful #I’ll probably upload a few more today #probably not all of them tho #thayd be a lot in one day

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toxicthotsyndrome68 · 1 year

Text

Spoilers of Pamela’s doc (sorry for grammar error)

I honestly love how Pamela took control/narrative over her story from the ‘Pam and Tommy’ series. I think Pamela doing that made the ‘Pam and Tommy’ series more of a lifetime biopic then a serious biopic that the creators were going for. I wouldn’t surprised if it was Brandons idea to do the documentary (it would be iconic if it was). I love how candid and honest she was. Some parts of her diary/journals being read out loud gave a different feel, it truly made it feel more like a love letter to herself and as someone else said to her sons. I’m glad I never watched the ‘Pam and Tommy’ show but only saw screen grabs from tumblr. Pamela not shading the actors is something I wouldn’t be able to refrain from had it been me but her sons being upset about made me respect her sons. Their defensiveness over her and how she was treated, especially Brandon, is admirable.

Onto something not related to Pamela, I think it’s very fucking weird and annoying how Brittany (Tommy’s wife) can’t keep Pamela’s name from her mouth. I never particularly liked Brittany, especially during her vine era, but I never hated her either. The way she shades Pamela on TikTok with ‘Pamela if I died’ and it’s the soundbite of Wendy Williams “oh she passed” and some thing about so many people being with Tommy and how one in particular keeps messaging Tommy how they miss him. When she got mad that HelloTefi on TikTok did a Pamela and Tommy series. I do believe that she loves Tommy and maybe by extension Tommy loves her too but why does she keep coming for Pamela. If your as secure as you keep saying you are why are you threatened by a woman who doesn’t think about you. My respect for Tommy was gone when he talked about how his kids with Pamela are spoiled and it was because of Pamela. Then Brandon coming from a place of protectiveness and hurt from a child (something I know about because my dad was just as shitty towards my mom) talks bout how it’s not Pamela that’s the issue it’s him and it’s him who is an embarrassment to the family. Damn! This is also info I should’ve known about or should’ve been made public all because Tommy always had to be a victim and have someone woe-me him.

The insecurity was especially proven for me when Trisha Paytas did that Pamela and Tommy inspired photo shoot. The fat phobia and verbal abuse that came from Tommy and Brittany’s mouth made me so uncomfortable. Mostly because Pamela would never and hasn’t at all criticized Trisha and they ( Brittany and Tommy) feel so insecure and threatened by a slight mention of the past. I don’t like how Tommy berated Trisha and said how you don’t look like her (which Trisha did look like Pamela) and said she was too fat or something along those lines to be her. I think the extreme defensive over Pamela really upset/made her insecure. It’s fucking weird how they watched the video and criticized Trisha because Brittany posted it. Now Brittany trying so hard to make it about her saying how she’s fine even though the ironic part is that Brittany was never mentioned in the documentary at all. I know she was hurt and is hurt that Pamela doesn’t want to meet her nor want to be friends with her.

#pamela anderson #pam and tommy #had to do this 3x because I kept making mistakes and because of that it’s not as cohesive as I would like it to be

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fawnedover · 1 year

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[ bree kish, demigirl, she/they. ] ✧･ﾟ is that 𝓹𝓱𝓲𝓵𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓪 ‘𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓪’ 𝓪𝓵𝓫𝓮𝓻𝓸 who just stumbled into town? rumour has it that they’re the 23 year old child of bambi & faline . i’ve also heard that they’re 𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓬𝓸𝓬𝓲𝓸𝓾𝓼 but 𝓯𝓵𝓾𝓬𝓽𝓾𝓪𝓷𝓽 and have 3 siblings. i could almost swear i heard christine by siouxsie & the banshees playing when they appeared. [ cirice, 24, est, she/her. ]

hello , everyone ! i'm cirice , and this is my newest darling , philomena . there's a bit more information about her beneath the cut here , if you'd like to give it a read ! i look forward to interacting with you all . i'm hoping to have an Actual Theme thrown up sometime tomorrow - ish , but my main concern is writing , so forgive me if things are not quite so pleasing to the eye for a period . feel free to contact me via discord or tumblr ims ! i'm always here to chat , and i'd love to plot .

𝓫𝓮𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓮 .

it was with the kiss of dawn that philomena entered the world , the fourth & final fawn born to the current great prince of the forest & his dearest wife . she was born with an inquisitive twinkle to her keen gaze — it was hardly a rarity to find her venturing off at a moment's notice , nor to catch her trotting after her siblings or parents as she plagued them with questions . why was the first word she spoke , and it stuck , hurled at anything or anyone in the vicinity . in her world , no leaf was left unturned , no flower unnamed , no answer allowed to be deemed unsatisfactory . with so many curiosities to sate , you would think philomena lucky to have been the youngest of the herd : without the responsibility of the crown , she was given freedoms her eldest sibling was never afforded ; so too were they often free of their mother’s watchful eye in the way the twins weren’t , given the twins’ proclivity for troublemaking . quick to learn & quicker still to change subjects in search of the next new thing with which to occupy her time , however , philomena often found herself growing bored of what was readily available . it seemed there was nothing in the sanctuary of the forest that could sate them ; or , conversely , maybe it was that they did not know how to find satisfaction — yes , there was a sense of fulfilment with every new achievement she earned , but it never felt like it was enough . the feeling never stayed — blink , and she'd miss it . gone with the wind , just another breeze passing through the foliage . though it wasn't often spoken , be it by herself or anyone else , a sense of envy had begun to settle itself in the recesses of her mind . a rotten tangle of barbed vines , lashing out in longing whenever she deemed those in her life as being better , accomplishing more . yes , there was a certain jubilance & freedom that came with being unbridled by the minutia of heirship , but philomena was growing ever anxious as she found herself lacking direction . she felt off course — and worse , she wasn't even certain of what course she was supposed to be on . her interests were vast & varied , yes , but maybe that too contributed to the problem : with so many options , nothing ever really stuck . she had a habit of taking a superficial interest in things : gorging herself on them for a week or so , only to pass onto the next thing once she'd had her fill . there was nothing she felt particularly drawn to ; no special calling . no hand of fate to guide her . she was merely there , not the heir , nor the spare . of course , her family was not void of love . her parents were kind & supportive , always checking in , but naturally , a monarchy will always be the stake between parents & their children . with their own list of responsibilities needing to be tended to , it was easy to offer philomena the space they thought she needed to find herself . what was meant to be viewed as trust within their youngest child to make good decisions , to allow her the time & room to carve out her own path , mina misconstrued as the purposeful distancing of those meant to help guide her . it only furthered the jealousy and frustration she felt . she assumed that , given her status in the line of succession , her parents must have viewed her as of so little consequence that it did not matter one way or another what they did . hurt , she turned to the court : always having been known for her wit , she was hardly estranged from the other creatures of the forest , and sought the surface-level comforts of their attention & praise . it would suffice in the moment , but once the day was over , she was only ever left that much more aware of the loneliness she felt .

𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓵𝔂 .

her arrival in town , and the nature of how she's arrived , have done very little to help assuage her . the change has presented more opportunities , yes , but has also provided them with more questions than they have answers . though generally well-meaning , mina has many faces , and will employ each one based on those around her . she thrives on the positive attention she can garner from others , and would gladly drown in it in the moment given the opportunity ; teasing , joking , flirting , she'll employ whatever means necessary to get the reactions she wants . however , once they find themselves home alone at night , she's much more cognizant of just how separate she feels from most . it's a bit of a handcrafted prison , really , pieced together by her own hands : she insists the distance exists , and so none of her interactions ever feel genuine , nor do her relationships . her doubt takes root , and , of course , everything she does from that point forward is something that she's convinced is disingenuous . the truth of the matter is that they have a good heart . they don't want to hurt people , but they want to feel worthwhile , and they convince themselves that the manipulation they might employ isn't really that bad , because their intentions are never really foul . they enjoy making people smile and laugh , they enjoy making people feel good ! but it is when they're alone that their pretty mask splinters . their horrendous habits of comparing themselves to others has hardly lessened here , not with so many new chances to do so . mina is particularly vicious when it comes to matters of the self ; it is possible that they could be considered as suffering from a form of imposter syndrome . boredom comes easily , still . she's retained her curiosity , and is always a willing , eager student , but she still hasn't found something that will hold her attention the way she assumes it's meant to be occupied . her sense of self is fractured . decisions don't come easily , and even if you ask her something as simple as what her favorite color is , she won't have a simple , set answer . her brain is constantly working overtime , which becomes overwhelming quickly , but she isn't keen to let on . which brings me to my next point : she lies , frequently . they're usually about inconsequential things , white lies made up to bolster herself in the public eye . she feels uninteresting as she is , so she makes up stories to entertain others , to deceive them into believing she's far more fascinating than she considers herself to be . again : these things aren't done out of a sense of cruelty , and she's aware that it's wrong to do so . but it's almost an impulse . usually , there's a bit of truth in each tale she spins , and it is , of course , those little pieces of honesty that she uses to assure herself afterwards that she didn't really do any harm , because it wasn't all a lie . mina enjoys her creature comforts greatly , and is happy to provide them for those she cares about , as well . her charity is unending , but she also has a habit of overextending herself . she has not learned yet that she cannot pour from her own cup if she leaves it empty . her hobbies include scrapbooking , crocheting , reading , going on nature walks and , strangely enough , archaeology . it is her newest vice . she's a terrible cook , aside from making soups , which she excels at greatly , but everything else ... well , she's got a nice collection of takeout menus for your perusal ! she likes to collect old quilts , pillows , & stuffed animals that are secondhand . while she's great at crocheting , her sewing leaves something to be desired — the projects she's undertaken to patch up & breathe new life into certainly take on the appearance of a child's approach , but she loves them all the same .

#intro tbt.#im gonna format my tags ...... Later #idk why my formatting in my post keeps messing up but pay it no mind lmao

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jaundice-collector · 10 months

Text

Here's a song I wrote called "Gorgeous Georgia Sky" because Tumblr seems like a safe abyss to scream into

That old front door

creaks open on a

spring day.

I step out of that

house we lived

in for 50 years

I've got those same

old leather boots on

and that hat pulled

past my ears.

It's almost the same

as it always was

the only thing that's

missing dear is you.

I've still got that

old hickory cane

with the lionhead

I go and sit near the lane

and stare up at that

gorgeous Georgia sky

I just know your

looking down

with that mindful eye.

I do that quite a lot

these days if I'm

honest most my

time now is

spent in a daze.

But staring at

that sky sitting

on our deck

brings me back

to many a time

on my trek.

Whether that be

my time in the

Air Force or

our wedding or

the birth of our

very first son that

gorgeous Georgia sky

and me were always

bestest friends.

Since I was born

I've looked into

that sky my dad

always taught me

to he was such

a gentle guy.

Whether day or

whether night

always looking

in the sky

about 10 years

old we went from

Georgia up to Maine

on our own dime

the sights to

see in those skies

there and in-between

that was such a time.

I'd climbed mountains

by 13 been up

in tree houses

overlooking

the green my

dad was always

with me my

mother was too

sick we always

brought back

photographs from

each of our trips.

16 back with that

gorgeous Georgia sky

oh those clouds

never did tell a lie,

by 18 my mother

had died but that

was alright we had

that sky to look to.

We always knew she was

looking down at us

because we knew even

up in heaven she'd

throw a fit let me

see my son and

husband again

those were her

words I'll bet.

22 I'd joined the

Air Force ready to

fly planes and just

get away never saw

a war never saw

much combat just

me and the sky

oh how peaceful.

Well Im looking

to that gorgeous

Georgia sky and

I really hope this

is where I die.

By that old

creek where we

used to fish

and swim in

this old house

ready to give in.

By 26 I was out

moved back in

with dad to take

care of him,

he'd grown sick

just like mamma

had before.

Had these coughing

fits with blood

end up lying on

the floor gasping

for breath there

was nothing I

could do I watched

my dad die that's

when life went askew.

Packed up my shit

and sold the house

nothing left there

but painful memories

I grew my hair long

and let it flap

in the breeze

I lived out of

hotels and vans

that's right I did

this before the

popular man.

I guess I did

it selfishly had

to get away

wasn't no

more life

with living

anyway

about 5 years

of this and

I'd straightened

myself out cut my

hair short and trimmed

up my beard moved

to New York at 31

married my love

at 33 the same

love I'm missing

today by 35 I was

homesick pretty

typical of me.

I showed you

my childhood

and said "love

can I please go

home just for

a week?"

And to my

surprise you said

"Really just a week

that's rather bleak

let me come with you

and we'll stay as

long as you want let's

hop on that Greyhound

bus tonight."

We arrived days later

when the rain

it was light

I stepped off

that bus to

see my home

the one I'd

sold years ago.

The vines had

overtaken it

there were holes

in the roof I still

longed for the

touch god I

missed it just

as much it

proved to me

that day that

memories never

fade no matter

how painful

they were the day

they were made.

I bought that house

back and spent the

next 50 years fixing

it outside and in

only for it to

relive it's glory

once you'd flown

up above with him

I wish you were here

today to see the

way it is it's not

my father's home

it's mine and it's

got the scars to

prove it.

It's been 32

years since

the kids moved

away and I've

still got the

height marks

by the doorframe

in the dining room

where we never

ate at all.

I can't believe

it's been 3 years

since you've gone

but I didn't

go crazy like

with my dad John

I know how to

grieve now and

I'm glad you

taught me that

otherwise I'd be

an old drunk

laying on the mat.

Oh Dorothy

every time I feel

a teardrop in my eye

I look out in that

gorgeous Georgia sky

it'll never be as

pretty as you were

and none of the

stories I read

about him and her

will ever be close to ours

every time I close my

eyes Dorothy I see

your name in

the stars just

know you'll

always have

my heart.

#songwriter #songwriting #country #bluegrass #read more

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harrypoppinss · 2 years

Text

Hi! So this is my first work on tumblr, but I do have an ao3, i’ll link that at the end of the work, enjoy!!

———-

Comfort

Charles Smith x reader

Summary: Charles comforts you after you start to doubt the security of the gang

Warnings: fluff, slight angst

—-

Today had been, per-say, not the best for you, or for any of the members of the gang recently. You were for forced to move again. This time you were no longer stowed away in a mountain, or in the snowy hills, but you were living on a chunk of land that was hot, muggy, and swampy. I guess it beats getting shot down by pinkertons.

Thankfully, your boyfriend Charles, was still around and more then willing to help you escape the place you fell back into. He always told you the mind was a treacherous place, filled with voices who wanna tell you what you’re doing wrong all the time. Voices that want you to feel guilty about things you can’t control.

Today was no different, your mind was racing with the new-found heat, also with the certainty that you’ll most likely have to move soon again. It was undoubtedly stressful, especially for Dutch. The poor guy, it was evident in his face just how much he was stressing. Hosea was the same way, the two of them were constantly talking about what the hell they were gonna do next, always trying to scope out poor bastards to rob blind.

As much as you wanted to go out on a job with Charles, you found your place right inside of camp. This way he always knew where you were, without having to worry as you worry about him. This was one of the many reason today has been so blurry and frustrating for you. He and Arthur had gone to hunt, but it’s been atleast a good six hours since they’ve left. So, you found yourself scrubbing Uncles dirty union shirt (unwillingly since Mary-Beth and Tilly both refused rather quickly) with your sleeves pulled up to your elbows.

Huffing out a breath of relief, you slapped the wet fabric over a hot rock, letting it dry under the unforgiving heat of the sun. You dried your hands on your skirt, before pushing yourself off the ground as you immediately started searching for something else to work on. Adding Grimshaw to the list of things you were pissed about today was not something you wanted to do. So you searched, and right when you were about to start mending someones shirts of a bullet hole, tamia came trotting in, Charles sitting tall on the saddle as Arthurs’ mare followed them a few paces back.

Thank god, you thought. Setting down the mendings to deal with after you welcomed your boyfriend back to camp. You patiently waited for him to remove the deer from Tamias’ rump, watching as he and Arthur both donated their findings to Pearson who seemed very, very happy with this. After this Charles said one last thing to Arthur, patting him on the back for a job well done as they both parted ways. Now it was your turn to get his attention and affection. His eyes searched the camp until he saw you, already meeting his gaze.

Charles shot you a soft smile, brushing his long locks to rest on his back as you made his way over to you with long strides. You two have been together for a good two months, when Charles first arrived in the gang he was quiet, mysterious. Something drew you two him, made you long for him in ways you never longed for a man before. You feeling quickly shifted from a curious one to a lustful one, spending the nights alone in your tent dreaming of him taking you apart with his mouth, hands, and cock.

Thankfully, he felt the same way about you and when you both mustered up the courage to confess to one another, it was undoubtedly smooth sailing from their on out. When he finally pulled up a crate to sit close to you, you scooted yours to touch his. Your hands went from your lap to his palm, your fingers intertwining like vines in a jungle. He sighed contently, bring the back of your hands to his mouth as he kissed the soft skin.

“I missed you, dear” he said, letting your hands fall back into his lap. “I missed you too, Charles” you retorted. Leaning your head on his shoulder, he kissed your hair softly, soaking in the attention he was getting and giving twice that amount. Charles had always been a gentleman towards you, he would always ask if you needed something, if you ate that day, if you wanted to take your mare for a trot, etc. It was undeniably like living in a fairy tale, besides the constant killing of O’Driscoll’s and robbing folks blind of course.

“How was your day,” he asked after a moment of comfortable silence. You swallowed thickly, “it was… okay, Grimshaw wasn’t barking orders down my throat so that made it better,” you joked, earning a soft chuckled from him. “But, Charles, I’m- I’m worried,” you attempted, lifting your head from his shoulder and shifting your body to face him fully. His eye brows knitted together as he gazed over your features, “I know hunny, I know,” he said back. He was more worried about a Pinkerton snacking you up as bait, or an O’Driscoll killing you out of some sick, twisted revenge.

“It’s been a-lot, but, at least we still have each other,” he said, before taking your other hand in his. You nodded in agreement, no matter how corny it sounded, it was true. You felt horrible for Mrs. Adler, you knew she was still mourning, and rightfully so. If you ever lost Charles like that, you’d be a reck of tears and anger. He was yours, and you were his. And neither of you were going to let anything or anyone change that. “What if- what if something happens to you?” You asked, that question had been playing on repeat like a broken record in your head for the time he had been gone. It was a bad habit of yours, overthinking.

Charles immediately brought you closer to him, his big arms wrapping themselves around your shoulders as you clutched onto his shirt for dear life. “You know I wouldn’t let anything or anyone take me away from you sweetheart, much to your dismay, I’m not going anywhere,” he said, his big hand coming up to cup your cheek as his thumb swiped away the tear that made its way down your cheek. You nodded after a minute, swallowing all the sorrow and the doubt that had been pooling in your brain.

“I know you wouldn’t- I just.. I worry, Charles,” you started. Now it was your turn to bring the back of his hand to your mouth and press a soft kiss to the skin. “I worry about you, especially when in Lemoyne Raider country, I just- I don’t wanna lose you,” you face was flushed with your confession, your lips occupied with the back of his hand and his knuckles, “you’re not going to lose me, okay?” He said after pulling his hand from yours, using both hands to cup your face. He looked at you like you were a sunflower at a sunset, lovingly and full of admiration.

“Any sorry son of a bitch who tries is gonna be six feet under, okay?” He said again, reassuringly. You nodded, finally content with the answer you were given, “okay,- I love you Charles,” you said, and he grinned back, “and I love you sweet girl,” he retorted before pulling your face forward gently, his lips connecting with yours. Comfort was something Charles was good at, amazing at even. And you knew if you were ever down, there would be one strong cowboy waiting to cheer you up, however you asked him to.

——

Thank you all so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed and as promised heres my ao3 link!

#charles smith #arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #charles smith x reader #charels smith fluff

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80s4life · 3 years

Text

You Take Good Care Of Her Pt.1

Word Count: 1,416

Status: Not Requested!

Fandom: The Expendables {1-3}

A/N: So this was one of my writings I have on my Wattpad, and decided to have it brought over here to Tumblr. This isn't my best work, but it's okay I guess.

Relationship: Lee Christmas x Reader

Summary: Y/N and Barney Ross are half siblings. With their lives not being easy, the only people they had were each other, Barney raising her as his own. But, that all changes when she decides to serve our country, earning many scars outsiders will never see. When she returns however, she might actually get the happy ending Barney and her have always dreamed of.

Warnings: language, a little bit of angst

Masterlist The Expendables Masterlist Part Two

{Not my gif}

For the next few years, with Barney's extensive training and knowledge with hand-to-hand combat, how to quick draw a weapon, and how to know how to use it, Y/N had become a strong woman. Y/N never understood how or why he knew these things, but yet again, she never doubted her brother for a second. Barney has always been there for her, as he was now, teaching her self defense in the best way possible.

After Y/N had graduated high school, she joined the army, starting out as a nurse but quickly changing ranking when a horrific war came in, needing her well hidden skills. Barney was proud of his little Gumdrop, the nickname he had given her from the day she was born, but he would be lying if he didn't say he was the least bit nervous. He knew she could handle herself, especially when Y/N had even made it a point in learning all different types of weapons, perfecting Barney's signature skills, and going way beyond anything either of them could imagine. Barney was almost like a proud father.

To say that military didn't change a thing about a person would've been a full-faced lie. It had made you hard, cold to the touch, maybe in the worst ways selfish, too. Y/N was never one to put herself first, but in the military world, although you are all fighting alongside each other as a team, the main point was for you to take care of yourself and only focus on keeping yourself alive; no one else mattered on the battlefield.

Y/N had started to write a diary, trying to keep herself from driving off the deep end into insanity. She was lonely, something that was expected in this way of life. Battle was a different world, a separate one from the world of the more fortunate ones, the ones not in war. Y/N had made a few friends, but as the wars raged on outside, they slowly died off, scaring her, and not wanting to have to hurt as much as she does because of how much she cares.

But after all, nothing is permanent. No one stays forever, and that made Y/N miss her brother all the more. As she writes in her diary, she also wrote letters home to Barney, those that could have a range of time before getting a response back. After all, Barney was stuck on missions, making a group called the Expendables, and spending so much time up just to not be alone, worrying for his baby sister, and if she will actually come home alive.

After 10 years, Y/N was able to return home, different, but whole. Barney, who had responded a few weeks before, had been the first to see her come down the escalator of the airport, more than ready to feel whole again, to have his family back. When she had spotted him, she practically tackled anyone in her way, almost tripping down the steps to get to her brother. With a lunge and a jump, she crushed her older brother in a rib shattering hug, tears of joy not only pouring out of her eyes, but his too, although he'd never admit to it. Clearing his throat he said, "Let's get you home Gumdrop."

After loads of catching up, Barney told her there were people he wants her to meet, as he was going to show her what he had spent so much time training her for, to be one with the boys, the Expendables. Barney had blabbed about what it is he had done on the ride before entering Tool's shop, which is what made Y/N so eager to meet the rest of the gang, knowing what and who they were before they even entered her life.

The first person she met was Tool, an older man with a rugged smile, warm eyes, streaked hair, and a creative eye for everything he sees. Y/N enjoyed him and took a close liking to him immediately, becoming a weird yet funny father she never had. She was caught up in a conversation with Tool, missing the warm smile her brother had as he watched his sister find someone so alike to her, talk to her, and share interests that normal fathers would, even if it wasn't by blood. Then, multiple other men filled the room of Tool's tattoo shop, the smell of testosterone, grease, and smoke filling the room as the roaring of motorcycle engines came pouring in, soon shutting off.

Barney and Tool introduced Y/N to every person of the group before they all spread out and did their own thing. Toll Road, one of the members, had talked to her, being kind and gentle, a total opposite of his professional career choice. After that, Y/N had made her rounds, talking to everyone: Gunnar Jensen, quiet, handsome, tall, and quite funny. Yin Yang, small, quick-witted, loyal, and very caring. Hale Caesar, the most hilarious person Y/N had ever met, very playful, and a lot of fun to hang out with. She had met everyone, except one; Lee Christmas.

A few times during the night, their eyes had met, as if it were electric that made them shudder and stare on many occasions. But, although many looks were made, he had made it his duty to avoid her like the plague. "But why?" was a constant thought that crossed her mind.

As time passed, Y/N had become just one of the guys, squeezing her tiny self into the little family they had all made. Tool had given her her own specialty Expendables tattoo to make it official too. Decorating it with vines and flowers, "Matching your personality," Tool would tell her, "Beautiful and delicate alongside other flowers in a bundle, yet hard and piercing when messed with by the wrong hands." Y/N enjoyed her tattoo all the much more, taking his words to heart and placing a sweet kiss on his cheek. She never realized the eyes that watched her so calmly from afar though.

What Y/N didn't know was how Lee actually felt, and that was a charge he knew was on him. It never stopped him from getting jealous though, stiffening as he watched her every moves. He had fallen for her soft Y/E/C eyes, and Y/H/L, Y/H/C hair that only she could make beautiful the second he met her. He would talk to her every now and then, but always kept his distance, knowing exactly who she belonged to. Barney would have his ass hit by a train if he ever touched her, and that was because she had gone through so much already, Barney not wanting anymore pain in her life.

Despite his attempts, he knew he wouldn't ever be able to resist her, and for that, he didn't care what he had to go through, he was going to have her. Because she was his, and he was hers, no matter who knew.

To be continued...

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dreamkidddream · 3 years

Note

Can I request a teen mc who is like YUJI from jujutsu kaisen as in they are the vessel of SUKUNA PLSS? Like maybe they can manifest SUKUNA in his curse form as another being as well like megumis dogs? (If you don’t know JJK can you just do a chaotic teen mc? ❤️)

WHEW THIS ALMOST DID NOT GET POSTED SINCE TUMBLR DELETED PARTS OF IT.

So let me tell you: I started reading the manga but have yet to watch the anime 😭 it’s really good though and I’m probably gonna start it this week, but I’m not sure if I’m 100% confident in writing Sukuna. BUT this request was too good to pass up, so if you don’t like it I will write the other scenario instead just let me know!

So for these headcanons, I made it to where MC is Sukuna’s vessel like Yuji, and that they can manifest him if needed. But, I still kept it to where he’s not exactly a good guy with MC’s best interest at heart. Reader is gender neutral and younger than the Bros, so the dynamic is more family instead of romance just a heads up! Hope you enjoy!

TW: Minor cursing, spoilers for Lesson 16 in Mammon’s, Beel’s, and Belphie’s part

The Brothers with Teen MC who’s Sukuna’s Vessel

Lucifer

Was very irritated with this revelation, but still curious

Still annoyed either way though

He already had to make sure that you stayed alive during your stay and not disappoint Diavolo, but now he had to make sure that you kept this curse at bay too!

#GiveLuciferABreak2021

He’s very skeptical of you: not only because of you being a young human but also being a human with essentially a demon inside of you

A very troublesome demon if not kept under control at all times

Honestly Sukuna was like an buzzing gnat who wouldn’t just go away, so Lucifer didn’t see him as a threat personally. More of a nuisance that could grow into a threat if remained unchecked

After you explained the whole situation, he still assigned Mammon to you, but he made sure to personally keep an eye on you too

Your presence was seen as a threat at first, but as time passed, he, along with his brothers knew you meant no harm, but the same couldn’t be said for this Sukuna

He wanted to have faith in you, but he couldn’t bring himself to fully believe it. After an incident at RAD with another demon attempting to attack you, your powers (or rather Sukuna’s) came out to play

He saw the markings, the extra eyes, the malice spread on your face, and he then realized just how serious this has become. You were able to gain control back, but the damage was already done. You were so distraught, sobbing before you, trying to apologize and swearing that you didn’t mean for this to happen, all the while Sukuna was laughing, morphing a mouth on your cheek

It was so bizarre to see, and he couldn’t help but feel a pang of pity for you. You were such a kind person, always going out of the way to spend time and help wherever you could. You essentially became a part of the family, but he knew that you didn’t feel accepted because of him

After that, your “punishment” was to practice holding control over Sukuna with Lucifer, every day after school (which can just be seen as him checking in on you on a daily basis, and trying out different techniques to make sure repeats of this incident doesn’t happen again). Meaning that you trained on manifesting him at will, instead of him completely taking over

Not gonna lie he’s acting like a proud dad when he sees you making progress and Sukuna just sitting in your head tired of all this positivity lol

Lucifer cares for you, he’s accepted you fully even if you hadn’t for yourself. He wants to protect all of his family (including you), and he doesn’t want to think about what could happen if Sukuna becomes a danger to the Devildom or Diavolo...

Mammon

Is impressed but also low key nervous

Humans are not suppose to be like this, ya know!

He’s not the smartest demon in Hell, but he definitely knows that you can’t summon demons without a pact, and he knows your baby face doesn’t have one with the King of Curses

You had to break down the whole deal, and it made him even more confused and distressed

Was still acting annoyed being your designated babysitter, I mean seriously, just how annoying can you be?!

Just kidding! You guys are totally partners in crime in no time and you both make Lucifer get 2x the wrinkles now

“MC, let the Great Mammon show you how’s it done!”

“Mammon, you’re going to be the reason why we’ll be strung up again for the third time this week.”

“It’s going to be both of your idiots’ faults. Such a pathetic display.”

SHIT HE FORGOT YOU GOT A WHOLE CURSE INSIDE YOU

He HATES whenever Sukuna makes an appearance, whether you call on him or he makes his own special appearance. He’s like a gritty and more sadistic version of Lucifer, minus the style and uptight personality (and honestly the finesse too), which made him 10x the more aggravating

He honestly hates Sukuna in general. Here you are, his MC, one of the only people to stand up and defend him always, struggling to live a normal life because of him. It was bad enough that you got sent down here with no warning, but now you got sent with him, and from what Mammon could hear with the conversations between you two, he wasn’t exactly your BFF

Denies being excited about seeing you perform your cursed techniques, but only because it brings him out (and he guesses it’s a little cool that you know how to do it). But human, you don’t need that lame curse, you got the great demon himself to protect you!

On a darker note, you made Mammon swear to you that if Sukuna took over and you for some reason couldn’t gain back control, that he would protect himself and his brothers first before worrying about you. He hated this even coming up, you should be worrying about what’s the next scheme you guys could pull off, not some weird sharpie colored entity causing problems. But you were dead serious, and you made him promise that if the worst case scenario ever happened, he would make sure it’s taken care of

Mammon realized you were the missing piece to their family. It felt nice to have someone depend on him, to actually treat him with respect and care for him truly. He refused to accept Sukuna as a part of you (really he just acted like he didn’t exist, which he didn’t in his mind), and he refused to let him or anyone else harm you

You’re family now, and he wasn’t going to lose anyone else ever again

Leviathan

Oh look, another normie

Wow, you’re such a normie that you’re even talking to yourself through a manifested mouth on your palm-wait WHAT

You broke it down to him, and you just...stared at you, with a blank expression on his face. Until-

“OMG THIS IS JUST LIKE THE ANIME-“

How ironic lol

He practically had a fanboy overload moment whenever you showed off your cursed techniques to him after he begged asked you countless times

You guys remember that vine with the kid saying, “I have the power of God and anime on my side”? Recreate that while doing your moves and he’ll be in awe and dying laughing at the same time

Will post it to his Devilgram and DevilTube

His envy will start to show at first. How is it that someone boring like you get to have all these cool powers and have an actual king reside in you?? You’re living the Shonen dream and not even grateful for it!

But this reality for him would soon shatter after he saw Sukuna for himself, and the way that he behaved towards you. The way that the curse would just look at with disdain in his eyes just made Levi’s skin crawl. He was made well aware that you were in fact not living the anime dream he thought you were. The look in your eyes reminded him of how he would feel whenever he felt like a scummy otaku, and from that point forward he would find ways to cheer you up

You can plan on having anime marathons, game nights, even talking with Henry (I hc that he can talk and understand aquatic animals) when you get into these moods. Anything that helps him get out of his funks he’s hoping it helps you too. You don’t deserve this type of treatment from anyone, especially someone that even he can no doubt eliminate

You were honestly one of the coolest people that he knows, and one of the strongest too! Not just physically, but mentally too. He can’t imagine what could be going on in your head since Sukuna became a part of you, but he knows that you’re strong enough to overcome anything that he throws at you. And if you had moments where you faltered or doubted yourself, that’s okay! Levi would be right beside you the whole way, doing anything he can to keep pushing you forward

Be the teen anime hero that he’s know you can be MC! You wouldn’t be his Henry if he didn’t have any faith in you, you know?

Bonus: you don’t have to worry about your anime nights being ruined after one night when Sukuna somehow found a spoiler to an anime that Levi was really anticipating became a very visual warning for the curse. Levi convinced you to let him take over, and whatever was said resonated with him because you never heard a peep after that, both out loud and in your head

Satan

Oh he was BEYOND fascinated

We all know how much Satan loves to read and how smart he is, so while you look at your condition as a curse (no pun intended), he saw it as an opportunity

Could you feel this curse coursing through your body? Did you feel stronger? Could he see through your eyes all the time or only when you let him? He had so many questions it wasn’t even funny

Very understanding of your situation surprisingly (but still called you dumb for eating Sukuna’s finger)

Satan would be one of the only people you could really trust when dealing with Sukuna. Yes, you trusted all of the brothers, but if you were really in a bind you could count on Satan to come up with a solution quickly

The only issue was his anger. Everyone knows just how angry he can get, and to avoid him ASAP if you even think he’s getting frustrated. Sukuna knows this too, and will be more than happy to taunt him to truly bring out his wrath. While he does need you alive (for now), it wouldn’t hurt to have some type of fun around here. Plus, this could cause your bonds with these brothers to weaken, and the weaker the bond, the weaker the will to help you keep him at bay and defeat him

But Satan knew better, and you did your best in keeping Sukuna away. He may be the Avatar of Wrath but that didn’t mean he was stupid. However, he did have one slip up unfortunately

You see, he was just having a bad day and already got into a spat with Lucifer, and you sensed that he certainly needed his space. So while you slowly backtracked to your room and from his path, Sukuna decided to be the evil ass that he is, and proceed to provoke him. What finally made him snap was his comment that, “You would be a formidable opponent if you weren’t in your older brothers’ shadow, but oh well. Can’t help who you come from I see.”

It took Beel, Mammon, and Lucifer to properly restrain him from ripping Sukuna (really you) limb from limb, with him laughing manically and you scrambling back in fear. Which called for a very long, detailed family meeting (of course after Satan fully calmed down) that resulted in mediated meetings between you and him for the next month. You felt guilty, you should have done better containing him, but you couldn’t predict whenever he decided to pop up!

But after a long talk, Satan didn’t blame you. He blamed himself for losing to his anger and especially blamed Sukuna. He decided that it was time to get rid of this pest once and for all. Be ready MC, cause once he puts his mind to something, there’s no stopping him

Prepare for your bonding time to be deep into books and practicing new hexes and curses. But don’t worry, it’s not always boring and Satan makes sure that you’re having some type of fun. He’s really doing this to have some sort of protection for you: whether it’s against Sukuna or himself. He wants you to know something besides your cursed techniques just in case they fail for some reason

Will shockingly want you to manifest the curse, one main reason is to obviously collect information on him, the other reason is to test said hexes and curses on him

Can a curse be cursed? Let’s find out

You helped Satan with him realizing that anger isn’t the only emotion that you can feel, and with you being so young, he wanted you to experience life as much as you can. And while you had an extra...passenger with you, he will do his best to make sure that it doesn’t get in the way of you enjoying life. It was nice to see a joyous smile on your face

Also you guys did find a hex that made Sukuna meow for the whole day and it was the best thing to ever happen with him lmao

Asmodeus

Honestly wasn’t really bothered with it at first. If anything, he treated it like hot gossip when you told him in the beginning

One thing he will say though: humans can be so revolting at times. I mean you ate a rotten finger, a cursed, aged, sharp, disgusting- you get the point. He did cringe at that, but everything else was pretty normal besides that

Still talked about your daily gossip, painted nails, the works. But recently, Sukuna’s name has been coming up more and more in your recent convos. Asmo, being quite the messy curious demon, wanted to know more about this curse

He really treated Sukuna like he was just your show and tell act and would want you to bring it out to see how he really was. He was amused with your cursed techniques, but he wanted to see more!

He heard you both talking with one another, and he wanted to see him in person! He hasn’t done anything and you’re among the seven strongest in Hell, so what could go wrong?

So much. So much could go wrong

And so much went wrong

After you manifested him, it went downhill from there. The large amount of control you did show caught his attention, but then it moved to the King of Curses himself. He was very delighted to see him up close for more than a couple of seconds, and took his time admiring his physique up close. It was fun for him, but not for you. Sukuna could feel your will slipping since your focus was being divided dealing with Asmo, so he took this as his time to shine

You had an exhausting day, and you were tired, which he used to his advantage. Asmo started to complain when Sukuna suddenly disappeared, but didn’t have a chance to voice it as your arm suddenly gripped the front of his shirt. He felt himself jolt, feeling his heart pumping. He looked into your eyes and realized that this wasn’t you, this was now Sukuna. The black markings that lined your face along with the new eye color (and the extra pair of eyes) came with a grin that stretched across your face

“What’s the matter? You were so eager to be in my presence, is it not to your liking now that the tables have turned? You claim to be one of the strongest, yet I would be able to kill you just being in this form-Ah, the brat is trying to come back, what a shame. Do me a favor, little Asmodeus, don’t insult me like this again. I am a King, and you will remember that. I might have to pay you another visit and take your heart with me next time to make sure you’re aware of that.”

He didn’t give Asmo time to answer, as his grip loosened and you were back. He saw you stumbling, shook out of his own thoughts and reached to catch you. He knew that this curse was an issue, but he didn’t understand just how serious this was, how serious it had gotten so quickly. The thought of Sukuna didn’t scare him, but the promise of him coming back just for him caused some worry. He wasn’t the weakest, but he didn’t want to hurt you! As much as he couldn’t stand his new found scorn of Sukuna, it wasn’t enough for him to take the chance of injuring you

You didn’t strike fear in him, rather the opposite. To see someone he has grown to care about be the one to try and bring his demise was...saddening. He could just feel his heart breaking at the notion. And if this experience taught him one thing is to be more understanding of what you’re going through

You remembered bits and pieces of the incident, and whenever you asked Asmo about it, he would divulge a tad in what happened, but wouldn’t go into too much detail. He didn’t want you blaming yourself, and he didn’t want you to distance yourself from him either. You already proven yourself of formindable you are ever since you gotten down here, and Asmo wasn’t going to let some jealous wannabe demon get in the way of that!

So no more talk of the thing, and whenever it did want to make an unsuspecting visit, Asmo would be ready. The thing was immune to most curses, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t be charmed to some extent, right?

Has covered the eye slits up with makeup and other beauty products every morning, becomes both of your favorite bonding activity. Anything to erase any evidence of it existing and to hear your giggles brightens his day everytime!

Beelzebub

Is very sympathetic of your ordeal

Has mad respect for you eating that finger though, even he doesn’t think that he would eat that

Maybe with some sauces and some Hellroast he might

Is another brother that tries to keep an eye on you. If this Sukuna really is as dangerous as you make him out to be, then he would make sure to be prepared if things went south

Beel’s motto: stay ready you ain’t gotta get ready

Will want you to practice your moves with him. Beel’s pretty powerful, and on muscles alone is one of the strongest brothers. He wants to make sure that you can recognize your full potential, and to always do your best. Expect to be in the gym or the HoL’s backyard working out and training majority of the week

Is thoroughly impressed with your cursed techniques

Beel doesn’t understand that while yes, you have a whole curse residing in you, doesn’t make you less of a human. He forgets that you still have some limitations, and you have to remind him at least twice a week. You gotten more powerful yes, but you still weren’t at Beel’s level

“You can do it MC! Don’t give up!”

“Beel this is over 500 pounds...are you forgetting that I’m still HUMAN-”

But you can never stay mad at him, he’s just too sweet and he means well. He genuinely wants you safe and prepared if anything happens with Sukuna, and if getting you buffed up makes him feel somewhat at ease, then you’ll deal with it

Shares his food with you sometimes. He makes sure that you eat properly too, so no skipping out on meals!

Great listener! Whether you’re complaining about class, talking about a new restaurant you’re interested in (he’s definitely tuned in), or venting about Sukuna, he’s all ears. Even gives you advice if you ask for it or if you really need it

Has encountered Sukuna while he took over your body once, and let me tell you, he was not happy at all

Beel is one of the brothers that are in touch with his emotions; he doesn’t really fly off the handle into a rage unless someone has done something to his family or if he’s being denied food. But now that you’re family and vulnerable not only to other demons but to this curse inhabiting your body, he wasn’t taking any chances

He made sure to be very clear when talking with Sukuna. He wouldn’t stand for anything happening to you, and he made sure that the curse would wish he stayed scattered if that boundary was crossed

Beel is a very protective big brother that’s constantly looking out for you all the time. Even if you feel like that you need to bare this burden on your own, he makes sure that you never feel alone.

He already lost Lilith, and he doesn’t want to lose you too. He won’t mess up this time

Belphegor

See, he knew that there was something wrong with humans, and you were living proof of that

How can you trust humans not knowing if they have another creature living within them?!

Whatever, he’s too sleepy to even care about it

And you weren’t one of the worst so...he guesses that you’re tolerable, but don’t push it!

In the beginning, he thought it was easy to manipulate you, but he could just sense that something wasn’t right with you (and no, it wasn’t because you were just human). He would hear you talking aloud to yourself, except that you were...responding to yourself too?

He thought you finally cracked up lmao

He brought it up as a joke once, but the way you reacted was tense and...ashamed? Oh, he just hit a gold mine. This could make things much more interesting. You shared a little bit of your story with this so called “King of Curses”, but he was smart enough to make a plan off of the information. Maybe he could take advantage of Sukuna like he is of you. Kill two birds with one stone

Well his plan backfired swiftly. After he was freed from the attic and went straight in for the kill, things went array. His hands were wrapped around your neck, he could-should see the life leaving your eyes, but instead he was met with Sukuna’s gaze. Belphie thought he planned this right, he made sure that he didn’t give you enough time to manifest him or to use your curse techniques, so how was this-

“You think I don’t recognize the look of bloodlust, you spoiled child? You were foolish enough to believe that you could get rid of me this easily like the brat?!”, and he was sent flying across the room. How was this happening, this wasn’t suppose to happen!-

“As much as I would like to see them die, they’re useful to me for the time being. Once they are of no use anymore, the only one who will be relishing in their demise is me. They’ll be dying by my hand, not by some weakened child.”

Those words still resonated with him still to this day. Honestly, the whole incident did. No matter how many times he tried to convince himself that you forgiven him and want to build a real bond together, his mind refused to erase that horrid memory, and he deserved it. When Belphie remembers back to that day, he remembers the horrified and heart breaking looks on his brothers’ faces, the way that your eyes show how betrayed and petrified, and how you were gasping out begging him to stop, before he comes out and puts everyone in danger

He felt disgusting, guilty, mortified, regretful, a disappointment. Those feelings only escalated after having them explain the truth to him, both about yourself and being a descendent of his dead sister. He could see how much you touched his family, and you extended that kindness to him too, and he just exploited it

He stayed far away from you for a very long time. He didn’t try to approach you at all, only staying in the planetarium or even the attic, to avoid crossing paths with you. He didn’t deserve to make a connection with you like his older brothers, as much as he wanted to. He was remorseful, it wasn’t because of the whole Lilith revelation, but because you really didn’t deserve that happening to you

You made the first move to make amends, to have a fresh start, and he couldn’t have been more grateful, albeit nervous. He was so terrified of messing things up again, but you were there to help keep him grounded. “I won’t lie to say that what you did was okay, but I’m willing to move on from it. You aren’t completely forgiven, but we can work towards fixing things, together.”

Belphie was shaken by Sukuna’s words, but he wasn’t necessarily scared of him. In fact, he would personally find a way to cast him out of your body and destroy him permanently as the perfect apology and thank you gift; the thank you for reuniting him with his family, and for helping them develop healthy relationships with one another. They weren’t as separate as before, and it made him feel so warm every time he thought about it

Not that he would ever say that to anyone

You both spent time together either napping or plotting for future LYS (Lucifer You Suck) pranks. And since Belphie is pretty good with magic himself, he would be teaching you some new spells or curses that you could use to protect yourself, even against the curse inside you

Belphie will make sure to not make another huge mistake when it comes to you ever again. He’ll have his little slip ups, but you were never put into harms way because of them. He doesn’t want to sabatoge this bond, and he wants you to truly be happy spending time with him. He’s not the greatest role model (obviously) and may be tight lipped about how he feels most of the time, but he really does have your best interests at heart

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lwt28brave · 3 years

Text

LT2 masterpost

If it was up to me, we would get an autumn or winter EP. Since it’s not up to me at all, here, enjoy this post with everything we know so far of LT2, which is to say, not much at all. Everything here is hypothetical. I’ll be updating every time I see something relevant. A little disclaimer that while this is a masterpost (kinda), it could be read as discourse (duh, it’s also a theory), AND it’s also by me, and you shouldn’t expect me to be serious at this point.

Due to me restraining myself, there’s no reference to any of the times he’s mentioned his guitar skills and him improving but I hope you know I cried every single time.

I’m also linking my old pinned here. It was written before AFHF and around the free merch thing that didn’t lead to much, but I still think I made some good points.

Possible tracks:

Copy of a Copy of a Copy

Change

Faith in the future??

369??

Possible names:

369

Faith in the future

When is the album coming out?

Your guess is as good as mine

Friday 28th of January 2022. Almost two years after Walls. It’s a Friday. It’s a 28th. What else can I say?

Here you can find @want-to-be-loved timelines for every month.

Here you can find @berlinini’s timeline of what Louis has been up to this year (2021).

The rest is under the cut. And here you can find a PDF version where Tumblr can't tell me how many pictures I can add.

2020

He said back on May 2th 2020 he wasn’t writing anything new yet.

(x)(x)(x)

Interestingly enough, he’s said many times after that that the album’s not ready cause he has no new experiences to drawn from. I won’t call him out because he does it himself.

May 4th. He liked a tweet from DMA’s Johnny Took saying they had to go write together again. Louis has been credited as an influence for them and (kind of) participated in their previous record, so I’m assuming he meant for their music and not his, but you never know.

Nothing(literally nothing??? how did we survive) until 11th of July. We all know what happened that day. We all celebrated it. Nonetheless, that’s not what I’m talking about here.

(x) So, by the beginning of July 2020 he was working on concepts and ideas for the new album. That was fifteen months ago. I know perfection takes time but…

Brief summary of important things that happened from then until the next mention of new music:

Louis left Syco!!!! 10 days later he rescheduled the tour for the first time. He followed Matt Vines on Twitter, probably so we could publicly shame him into doing something. Also, the 10thanniversary. He followed more people I wish he hadn’t.

Then more nothing until September. Not even a single tweet. The first merch drop was on the 28th of August but he just RT’ed the tweet. He first mentioned Free my Meal on the 25th of September. Then on October 1st Walls hit #1 on a lot of countries and Louis was incredibly happy and excited about it ^^

And then, that same day, October 1st, 2020, he dropped this bomb:

(x)

He also said it was too soon to be sharing new lyrics with us (x)

And, obviously, this tweet which is actually what made me start this whole post. I would hope you know mate.

(x)

He also told us he was cooking "banger after banger" and that he was incorporating more social themes into his music (x)(x) (I believe any social issue is a political issue but that’s not the point rn).

COPY OF A COPY OF A COPY?!?!

These next paragraphs are brought to you by my mind not remembering things and me not having any links. I’m assuming COACOAC came from those writing sessions that supposedly happened in October. Or in LA but I have no idea if he actually was in LA at any point other than a Daily Mail article putting him there on December which would have been too late, but I do remember that someone said he was in the studio in LA last autumn???? A rumor. Maybe. IDK. Did I mention already all of this is very hypothetical?? Well, this is it. I can’t even remember if this was October or November or what. So, take this with a grain of salt.

I’m also… taking the liberty to assume, if you must, that Copy wasn’t meant to be a Walls reject because it sounds more mature and darker and it has a vastly different tone that Walls songs. I know he’s said that song probably isn’t getting into the album, but I want to have faith (in the future) that I’m getting a studio version. (But also, Louis, if you’re reading this, first of all GET OUT OF MY BLOG second of all, please don’t ever feel pressured again to add a song to the album because we have already heard it before. It’s your art and it should always be under your own terms).

So yeah, I believe that Copy is either one of those four songs (then imagine the other three??!!) or was written around the 1st of October date.

---End of the Intermission---

Then not much important (other than sharing more about Marcus Rashford fight against food poverty and the 2nd merch drop) until he announced the livestream on the 24th of November. (x)

It wasn’t until a few days before the livestream date we even thought again about new music (jk, I know we’re always thinking about new Louis’ music). So, December 9th/10th, 2020. Nine months ago. We got our first taste of new music!

He made sure we knew Copy of a Copy of a Copy isn't a cover! (x) (x)

(x)

Ok, so that’s it for 2020. (I feel like I’m missing something from September 17th because tweet was deleted but maybe he was still talking about cucumbers. We might never know. Unless I understand how Tumblr tags work). Expected, cause Walls was released in 2020. We needed to let it sit for a while.

2021

Another Summary: Louis third tweet of the year was telling the UK government off. So was the fifth. What a good beginning. On the 26th of January, he said he prefers pancakes over waffles. I hope he meant pancakes other than his own. More importantly, he tweeted the infamous “you lot read into things too much”. Don’t get me started, Tomlinson. Don’t. Then the 31st came around and Walls was one. He tweeted this. How wise. And Project Defenceless happened!!

15th of February!! Who cares about Valentine Day when the next day we got this? ♥

(x)

So…AN EP?? AN EP?? PLEASE RELEASE AN EP.

“I’m sure I will have something out this year but unlikely that will be the album”. Unlikely but not impossible. Also. A single would be good. This is the second time he mentions releasing something in 2021 and he sounds surer about it than the first time around.

He also said that he isn’t sure we will get a studio version of Copy. And that the best bridges from Walls to LT2 are Walls, OTB, KMM and Copy. Can’t wait!

Then we jump to March 6th when he announced he was going to create his own management company. “Sometimes action is needed first to encourage the motivation and belief”. As we can tell he was already manifesting some stuff which will lead us to the numerology stuff/Tesla… kidding. Or not. We might never know.

On the 22nd of March he answered some questions:

He told us music was still his main focus ♥ mwha. (x) I included this tweet to guilt-trip him into giving us music in case he’s reading this even after I told him to leave. ILY.

(x) I’d love to get a visual EP this autumn. Just saying. It sounds like a lovely concept.

(x)

…next (I will get into it, I promise. I’m just mad).

On the 25th he left for Mexico until April 10th. You could assume it was just for the documentary where we got ten seconds of footage or admit the obvious: LT2 its a Mexican baby!!

On the 26th (so, not so far apart from that first 369) we got the first Faith in the Future mention: (x)

Back then we were innocent people who had no idea what was coming upon us. We still have no idea because what the fuck does he mean with these. Please explain. I have one braincell and I don’t use it enough for this. I’m linking some theories.

On the 30th of March he confirmed he was already working on the documentary. So AFHF was already on the works. Will it take this long for us to get the Veeps numbers? We also got this tweet: "Got a decent chorus idea down" (x).

Same person that got the “something out this year” exclusive. If you know something share with the class. Also. Is this Change? I feel like this could be Change but I also assume he wrote Change after hanging out with his friends or being in Doncaster. But who knows.

(x) And the second mention to 369.

(x) 15th of April. The second "Faith in the future".

On the 19th of April he announced that he had something BIG for us later on the year which turned out to be the Away From Home Festival ♥♥ (x) I love him so much.

Then on the 28th he announced the 369 merch drop (which it’s probably the Walls drop? Except that the TOU and KMM ones were “drop 1 and drop 2” and this was drop 369 which, again, makes no sense) but we still don’t know what 369 means.

Into May’ 21 we go.

He rescheduled tour again. And dropped another bomb (x).

He announced he has signed with BMG as an independent artist by RTing this tweet on May 10th. The article also says that he’s already working on writing and recording LT2. The timing… we don’t know. What this deal involves… we don’t know either. Bear with me here because I have a lot to say about this.

I think the deal is only a distribution one, but that BMG are interested in Louis and what he (us) could bring to the table. They were either present at the festival or watching it, but officially they had no involvement at all with it (everything is credited either to Louis own company, 78 Productions, or Charlie Lightening’s company). That’s the case for both giveaways too; the vinyl one and the tickets for the festival.

I think it would be an unbelievably bad move not to test the waters with BMG now or soon-ish. At least a single, to see how it performs. Due to the circumstances, it’s obvious there’re certain limitations on place but I want to see how they push it, whether the radio play exist this time around and if the song is playlisted and promoted and all that… I would also love to know, since it says he signed with BMG UK, but it also states it’s a global deal, how things are going to go on the US and other countries.

Yes, yes. I know those are all questions and no answers. But I know the same as you, sadly. If any of you know more than you’re letting on… again, share with the class.

Where was I? Yes, on the 25th of May Louis had a great day writing (x). Since the first time he had mentioned he was officially writing to this date there’s almost eight months. And I believe he was writing before October’ 20.

He followed Robert Harvey that day and, on the 28th of May (why is it always the 28th???) he was spotted at the studio for the first time.

June was an interesting month for the fandom ♥. Lots of LHL content which I will love and cherish for the rest of times. On June 4th, June 9th, and June 10th he was spotted at the studio, but I believe he was there more days.

(x)

This was posted on June 6th and captioned Studio. Charlie also shared it with “Mega tunes being put down, can’t wait for this @louist91 #louistomlinson #LT2” as the caption. This gives me 2019 (Elton-Joint) vibes. I like it. Feels like we’re getting closer to something.

He added the Milano date on the 9th too which I’m mentioning because I’m going alone. Anyone wanna go with me please? I’m nice and I never eat anything before a concert so you can have my food. On other news. It didn’t come home.

During July he was at the studio at least three days too. Probably more. Feels like more with all the fan pictures we got. Or was that June? Anyway, July 1st and 9th we got some videos from Robert Harvey and wearesuperhi, which is who Louis has been working with the most, that we know of. I don’t know for sure they’re from that day. And on July 5th we got an article and lots of pictures of Louis looking really good outside the studio.

On the 12th of July the first fans started getting the free, 369 bucket hat and print. We still don’t know what the purpose was other than to thanks fans. Maybe that was it. I want answers and I still think it relates to a future project (see theories above), but it could also just be a bridge with the Walls breaking.

He didn’t tweet about anything interesting for a while, mostly because he lost his phone (he either throwed it in the air or smashed it who knows). Then on the 29th of July he announced the festival!

I’m glossing over it because there’s already been a lot of talk about it (rightfully) and while it was a wonderful thing, it doesn’t have much to do with LT2.

Let’s talk Change!

On August 3rd he tweeted this about the setlist.

(x)

And this (x) on the 28th! I can’t stand him.

We didn’t get it, obviously. Because who was going to get that. But we read too much into things. Alright.

On the 16thof August Dave Gibson shared this post tagged #LT2 with the eyes emojis 👀👀👀. I believe this has to do both with Change but also with whatever else came out of that Mexico trip.

(x) Last relevant tweet related to LT2 is this one.

So, on the 30th of August we got Change and we cried, and we know that Change is going in the new album. He said it. With those exact words. He also said he was “getting a feeling for it”. This has to meant he already has a general idea of the vibe of the new album and what’s going in it!!!!!! (Right? RIGHT?).

Anyway, let’s go back a few weeks because some other things happened on August. He was at the studio a few more times. Or it was suggested that he was there. On the 17th and the 18th. (Why was it so time-pressing to be at the studio instead of rehearsing for the festival? There was no studio at all on the documentary. Which makes sense, but again, then why?).

On the day of the festival we got another mention of Faith in The Future that made me feel part of a cult ngl. The words were flashing on the screen for less than a second. Okay.

And then he tweeted those words again after watching the livestream/documentary on the 4th of September (x). This is what makes me suspect it's either the name of the album or of the single.

On the same day, we got some interesting quotes about LT2 on the documentary.

“Soon I’ll have to think about me second album, which in my head I’ll get the tour out of the way and then I’ll address that. So, I hadn’t really given it much thought, to be honest”.

“When every day is the same is hard to feel creative and it’s hard to have any kind of proper inspiration”.

“As season started to come back, I started writing again and it was great and some of these songs turned out alright”.

And I think this is it. I might be overlooking some important details but that’s what we know and what we don’t know.

So. Conclusions. That’s what you missed on Glee. I do believe the album is, if not mostly done, partially there. And yes, this post is pointless and never-ending but it’s all in here if you need to tell Louis “Hey, you said this, mate”.

#LT2 #Louis Tomlinson #Faith in The future #369 #Louis #LT #new music #idk what this is #but it's long #pinned

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foxghost · 3 years

Text

Joyful Reunion, Chapter 112

Translator: foxghost @foxghost tumblr/ko-fi1 Beta: meet-me-in-oblivion @meet-me-in-oblivion tumblr Original by 非天夜翔 Fei Tian Ye Xiang Masterpost | Characters, Maps & Other Reference Index

Book 3, Chapter 24 (Part 7)

Right there behind the stone statue at the top of the stairs is a wide platform, and behind the platform is a set of derelict buildings stacked out of bricks. It’s eerily quiet on top of the platform as it’s little frequented, and green creeper vines have climbed all the way up from the base of the foundations miles below. Nothing marks the years’ passing in the mountains, as though time itself is frozen here.

“Is this where you trained?” Duan Ling asks.

“Yes. This is White Tiger Hall,” Wu Du replies, climbing the steps with Duan Ling until they’re before the great hall. A plaque is barely hanging on high above them with three characters written in ancient seal script: White Tiger Hall.

“We’ll sleep here tonight. It may still be a bit cold in the mountains, but I think …”

“That’s quite alright,” Duan Ling replies, standing in front of the great hall, he stretches, facing the green hills beyond and their misty clouds. It reminds him of a line of poetry: my mind expands to take in this expanse of clouds; the sight of homecoming birds stretches the edge of my vision.2 From the moment they left Jiangzhou he’s enjoyed the first true days of leaving all his worries behind. Here, he doesn’t have to worry about anyone coming to kill him, and neither does he have to worry about saying anything by accident that can get him killed. They can sleep soundly and let themselves relax.

He turns back to glance at Wu Du. Wu Du is inside the great hall, sweeping the stone paths clean. When he finds a bird’s nest on a chair, he picks up the nest and wipes down the chair before putting it back.

“Eh?” Duan Ling spies a small animal dodging behind a pillar and walks quickly over. It’s a squirrel. When it hears footsteps it stops, turns around, and hesitatingly stares at Duan Ling.

“Animals in the mountains aren’t afraid of people,” Wu Du explains.

“Are there other people here?”

“No. Even back then it was just me, my master, his wife, and Shijie.”

Recalling the Xunchun who lost her life in Shangjing, Duan Ling lets out a sigh.

Once Wu Du finishes cleaning he adds, “Duan Ling, come. Let’s go meet the White Tiger.”

Duan Ling walks to the centre of the main hall, and looks up at a white tiger carved out of white marble enshrined in the altar. Its eyes are sunken as if gems used to be set in them, but they’re long lost, presumably stolen by thieves. A mottled, dilapidated mural of “A Thousand Miles of Rivers and Mountains”3 has been painted on the wall behind it, with seven Weiqi pieces carved out of marble inlaid into the mural.4

“I’m the seventeenth generation disciple, successor of the lineage of poison,” Wu Du says to the white tiger statue, “current leader of the White Tiger Hall, Wu Du. I’m here today with the crown prince of the central plains.”

Duan Ling cannot help but be awestruck, and his back straightens at Wu Du’s words. Wu Du stands tall in front of the statue, holding the index and middle fingers of his left hand to the back of his right hand to bow as a part of a special ritual on his pilgrimage to the White Tiger. "Lord White Tiger, please bless …

“What’re you called again?” Wu Du pauses to ask Duan Ling.

“What?”

“Your name.”

Duan Ling stares at Wu Du speechlessly. Wu Du stares silently back.

“What kind of a sect leader are you?” Duan Ling doesn’t even know what to tell him.

Wu Du whines, “That day you shocked me right out of my head, so how was I supposed to remember anything? Say it already.”

“Li Ruo, here to pay my respects,” Duan Ling takes one step forward. He knows that the White Tiger constellation is the god of soldiers and warfare, in control of everything that has to do with slaughter. He bows. “I pray for Great Chen to triumph in every battle, to be victorious in every war.”

Wu Du cracks a grin, and turns to the statue. “I pray you’ll bless and protect the crown prince of Great Chen, Li Ruo, and to allow him a smooth return to the imperial court.”

They each finish talking to the White Tiger, and afterwards, they look up together in silence, staring at the statue with its missing eyes. A draft brushes them by, pouring from the back of the main hall and rushing out the entrance, setting the fringes of their robes fluttering — as if a fierce tiger has just crossed the forest, setting all the leaves in the trees rustling.

“Where did its eyes go?” Duan Ling asks Wu Du.

“No idea. It’s never had them as far as I can remember, so they must have been dug out long ago. Its eyes can’t see, but it can hear just fine.”

Duan Ling thinks, sounds like that’s true. Perhaps the breeze was its instruction.

Duan Ling has never had so much free time in his life before. That very afternoon, Wu Du takes the stairs down the mountain again to move the bedding and food from their boat to their lodgings. Duan Ling offers to help, but Wu Du just tells him to rest. As soon as he puts the stuff down on the platform he’s off again to the boat for more.

White Tiger Hall has a rear courtyard with a set of houses sectioned into east and west wings, while the main house was the place where Wu Du’s master and his wife used to live. Duan Ling spots an alchemy furnace, still filled with solidified cinnabar and some medicaments, a mixture of something now pitch black. The west wing is Xunchun’s room. Duan Ling opens the door and peers inside to find it filled with cobwebs and dust, devoid of anything else. The east wing is Wu Du’s room. It has one bed, two wooden shelves filled with old things, piled high with worn-eaten ancient tomes.

“What a pity,” Duan Ling says, “you had this many rare hand-copied books, but they got so damaged. Aren’t you worried that the knowledge will be lost?”

Wu Du has drawn water from a creek behind the main hall, and he’s cleaning the house with his sleeves rolled up. "Everyone’s gone. Whether the martial arts knowledge is passed on or lost, there’s no one left to care about that anymore.”

“What’s in here?”

“The elixirs master refined ages ago. He’d always wanted to live forever, follow the Dao and become an immortal. He used to be just fine, but after eating too much of that stuff he couldn’t even fight anymore. When the capital was under attack he took his wife with him and got off the mountain to reinforce the troops, and he should have been able to escape unscathed, but whatever blasted elixir he took stopped his qi from flowing when he needed it, and the Khitans shot him to death.”

“Where’s he buried? Should we go visit his grave?”

“The cenotaph is back there. After the capital was taken by Khitans, Shijie had someone bring back his clothes. We’ll go if we have time. There’s no hurry.”

Together, Duan Ling and Wu Du clean up the room. Wu Du says, “I don’t need any of that stuff. Just toss it all out.”

“No no, they’re too valuable.”

“I’m keeping it all in my head, you know. Don’t flip through them now, they’re dusty. If you do that you’ll sneeze.”

Duan Ling sneezes dramatically more than a dozen times before he manages to reorganise Wu Du’s books, putting them away nicely on the shelves. He plans to make a copy of everything when he has time, and that way it’ll help keep White Tiger Hall’s knowledge intact.

It’s getting closer to dusk. Wu Du has half finished cleaning the place. He gets a fire started then, and begins making dinner for Duan Ling.

Watching Wu Du busying himself, Duan Ling feels as though he’s back to being a little kid again. He recalls those words once said to him: there will always be people who disregard all else to be good to you, no matter who you are. If I’m not the crown prince of Southern Chen, would Wu Du still have brought me here?

Duan Ling ponders this, and comes to the conclusion that Wu Du probably would.

Spotting an antique, worn-out case under the shelves in the room, Duan Ling bends down to open the lock. Once it’s opened, he discovers that it’s filled with wooden puppets of horses and people, carved with a small knife. They must have been toys carved by Wu Du for himself when he was all alone as a little kid. Underneath the toys is a red cloth sack, and Duan Ling’s about to open it when Wu Du notices and says, “Um … Don’t touch that!”

Thinking that it’s some deadly poison, Duan Ling quickly puts it back, but Wu Du is hurrying into the room, a crimson blush in his cheeks as he puts the cloth sack back in the lowest level of the case.

“What’s that?”

“It’s nothing.” Wu Du looks a bit embarrassed, which only serves to make Duan Ling even more curious and to keep pestering him. Self-conscious, Wu Du leaves for the kitchen to get more water so he can start steaming the fish, but Duan Ling follows him around the whole time until he gives up under the badgering. “It’s a baby wrap.”

Duan Ling pauses for a moment before he breaks out in side-splitting laughter. Wu Du sounds a bit irritated. “Don’t laugh!”

A thought occurs to Duan Ling and he thinks he understands. “You wore it when you were little?”

“Yeah,” Wu Du replies, “when the master’s wife found me, that cloth was the only thing on my person.”

“Was there a birth certificate? Your parents’ names?”

“No idea. Even if there was one, my master would have burned it.” Wu Du says without minding him, “Assassins can’t have mom and dad.”

“Doesn’t that mean you wouldn’t know when your birthday is?”

“Well let’s just treat … the day she found me as my birthday.”

Duan Ling only comes to that realisation then. “Which day is it?”

Wu Du doesn’t say anything, and Duan Ling seems about to press him, so Wu Du can but tell him, “I’ll tell you when it comes up.”

Duan Ling stretches out his pinkie, and so Wu Du gives it a little shake with his own. “Go wait for dinner, but don’t run off. Maybe no one is going to kill you here but getting lost in the mountains is no joke.”

Wu Du limits Duan Ling’s roaming range to the area between the stone steps and plank walkways, extending all the way to the platform, and he can wander through the buildings of White Tiger Hall as well, but he can’t go to the mountains behind the halls. Duan Ling walks to the edge of the platform to view the clouds, where they flow like an ocean in the mountains; the mist has risen, and in the mountains it’s as quiet as the land of the immortals.

The racket and prosperity of Jiangzhou, the strife between people — all of it can be left behind for now. They all feel like nothing more than a dream Duan Ling had during an afternoon nap.

If he can stay here for the rest of his life, maybe no one will ever be able to find them?

If he stays here for the rest of his life, maybe he won’t ever have to worry about anything else anymore.

An idea occurs to Duan Ling as he stares out at the cloud sea. If he’s able to accomplish all his goals and retire in comfort someday, this will be his final and only resting place. After experiencing so much, there’s nothing happier than to live the rest of his life in peace, with someone by his side … as he thinks this he turns to look back inside White Tiger Hall. Wu Du just happens to be banging some metal together to make a clanging noise, letting him know that it’s time for dinner.

“Scram! I’ll hit you!”

As Duan Ling heads inside, he sees Wu Du scaring off a monkey that’s come out of nowhere. The monkey wants to come closer and beg him for some food, but it doesn’t dare get too close. It stares at Wu Du with wide puppy eyes, then it turns them on Duan Ling. Duan Ling can’t help but laugh soundly, tossing it a bit of dry rations. The monkey immediately grabs it and runs off.

“There’s another one over there.” Duan Ling looks around and finds the big monkey rushing to give another, smaller monkey the food after it successfully begged for some.

“If you want food, eke out a living for yourself.” Wu Du jokes around. “If you want to be lord and master of the household, you’ve got to support your family.” Then Wu Du pushes against the great doors with his shoulder to close them.

During the evening, a solitary lamp swings back and forth in the mountain breeze, and beneath it the two of them have rice with plates of side dishes, along with the live fish they bought on the river. There’s even a couple of cups of wine to go with it.

After they finish drinking, Wu Du says to Duan Ling, “I’m going to take you somewhere. Let’s go.”

It happens to be a full moon tonight. Wu Du takes Duan Ling towards the mountains behind the halls, and they turn a corner through a narrow path, coming to the other side of the mountain where the sky seems to open up; the desolate wilderness of the mountains makes the moon look even brighter, and silvery light fills their vision.

Lit by moonlight, throughout the mountains, this is the only place planted full of peach trees; out in the mortal world peach blossom season has reached its end, but in the mountain temples they’re in full bloom. Amidst the mountain ranges the peach blossoms bloom in brilliant clusters, and the mountain breeze takes millions of petals off their branches to flutter beneath a bright moon.

“What do you think?” Wu Du asks with a smile.

Duan Ling is nearly unable to get any words out at all; he stares in a daze at the scenery before him.

“Only for about ten days every year,” Wu Du says, “do you get a view like this.”

“It’s too beautiful.”

Wu Du comes over to him, and they sit down on a rock together. He takes out his flute, and holds it to his lips. Music rings out, and in that instant, Joyful Reunion once more drags Duan Ling’s mind back into the faraway past.

When the song ends, Duan Ling and Wu Du quietly meet each other’s eyes.

Wu Du’s lips move imperceptibly, his breathing growing slightly urgent, and wearing nothing but an unlined robe and short pants, he’s sitting quite close to Duan Ling on the rock. Moonlight spills onto their snow white underclothes, and Duan Ling can vaguely make out the rugged and beautiful lines of Wu Du’s body.

“Duan Ling,” Wu Du says suddenly, “I … have something I want to say to you.”

Without knowing the reason for it at all, Duan Ling is starting to feel tense as well. “Wha—what?”

Wu Du looks down at him. They’re both quiet for at least several breaths, but then Wu Du is turning away to look towards the mountain streams, then up at the bright moon above, seemingly on edge.

“What did you want to say?” Duan Ling reaches out, his hand folding over the back of Wu Du’s hand, but Wu Du has turned his hand over to hold onto his.

“Do you …” Wu Du turns the thought over and over in his head before he appears to make up his mind and asks, “Do you like it here?”

Duan Ling smiles, and it’s like a million peach flowers blooming beneath the moonlight, how brilliant their blossoms.

“Earlier today I was just thinking,” Duan Ling tugs on Wu Du’s hand, “maybe someday I’ll just live here in the White Tiger Hall and never go back to the earthly world.”

“Oh no no,” Wu Du says immediately, “now that won’t do. I … you …”

“Yeah.” Duan Ling thinks about his duty, and that’s bound to be a heavy subject. He jests, “It’s just a thought.”

“No, that’s not …” Wu Du collects himself and says, “What I was thinking is that … aside from this place, I also want to take you … other places. And if you want … you can … take your time to pick, pick the place you love the most … anywhere is fine. The edge of the oceans, the ends of the earth, as long as you want to be there, I’ll be at your side.”

Duan Ling stares at him in startled silence.

“I … What I’m thinking is …” Wu Du doesn’t dare look at Duan Ling, and he can only stare off anywhere else, his handsome face turning crimson to his collarbones; even the skin under his tattoo is glowing red like he’s been drinking. His grip on Duan Ling’s hand grows tighter subconsciously and he stammers through his speech.

“Afterwards, I’ll also take you … to all those places you want to see. I’ll take you to Diannan, take you to … see the ocean. You … Shan’er, that day … when you called me ‘milord’, I know maybe you were just joking, but I’ve taken you here because I wanted to ask you … if you’re willing to … for the rest of our lives …”

By now Wu Du has already calmed down. The words have already left his mouth so he’s not going to be nervy anymore.

“In front of other people, you and I will be as we always were.” Wu Du doesn’t know where his courage is coming from, but he’s staring into Duan Ling’s eyes as he says solemnly to him, "Even if you’ve returned to the imperial court, I don’t need you to make me anything official. As long as you still think of me as you do in your heart today, I will find you the Zhenshanhe and guard you for the rest of your life, until the day I die.

“I know that in the future you’ll become the emperor. But I really … really … really want to be … with you …”

As he says this he’s getting nervous again. “I think … if you’re willing, I’ll definitely treat you well. Whenever we’re alone and there’s no one else around, I’ll … treat you … treat you as I would treat … my wife, and you’ll … yield to me as you would …”

Duan Ling stares at Wu Du in a daze, and Wu Du realises now that he’s still squeezing on Duan Ling’s hand and hurriedly lets it go. He reaches into a pocket in his robe and takes out a string of beads.

Wu Du unfolded his fingers, holding the beads in front of Duan Ling, and he moves his hand forward a little, as though he’s a mere humble human being presenting a tribute he made with all his heart, in a gesture more reverent than making an offering to the gods of their world.

The tribute is a bracelet strung with rosary peas.

Duan Ling’s cheeks turn scarlet in an instant as he comes to realise what Wu Du has left unsaid — to his surprise, Wu Du is wooing him. Even before this Duan Ling has had a vague feeling that this is the case, and the present moment is reminding him of that evening as the sun was setting, and Wu Du had taken his hand and told him all those things in the maple forest.

In a flash, the Duan estate’s dark woodshed, the snowstorm oppressive above the frozen Yellow River, those unfamiliar and gloomy days in Shangjing, a war that shook the earth beneath him, a night of panicked escape that feels like it happened yesterday, that harsh winter in Luoyang, his father’s death … in his mind these memories all shatter one by one.

They were each alone in the world as children, and now they’re beneath a sky filled with fluttering peach petals, silently facing each other.

In place of those memories are all those dreams once promised to him in that endless river of time, all those colourful, dazzling hopes, with the life he wants to lead.

Duan Ling seems able to see himself, and he’s able to see Wu Du as well — the Wu Du who grew up orphaned and alone is finally all grown up, and has made his way to him.

Wu Du’s hands have once solemnly taken hold of the sword that represents the last of the central plains martial artists; they have also blocked the sword that came at him with a force great enough to shatter the firmament itself outside Tongguan. But now they’re somehow overtaken by a slight but uncontrollable trembling.

“I …” Duan Ling takes a deep breath as he tries his best to restrain the excitement rushing about in his heart, but he notices that he’s unable to say anything at all. When he raises his eyes to meet Wu Du’s though, it seems Wu Du has come to a different conclusion. Noting that Duan Ling hasn’t taken the bracelet from him, his expression grows sad, and forcing a smile tinged with agony, he nods as though he already knew this would be the answer.

But to his surprise, instead of taking Wu Du’s bracelet, Duan Ling has thrown his arms around Wu Du’s neck, and closing his eyes, he leans in and presses his lips to Wu Du’s.

A mountain breeze blows by, sending a rustling through the leaves; flower petals scatter to fly through the air.

Wu Du’s eyes widen, and his entire body freezes as though he’s been struck by lightning. Not daring to move an inch, he holds the pose with their lips touching. When he comes to himself in the next moment, he stares at Duan Ling, his heart beating madly in his chest.

The two of them pull apart and Duan Ling takes Wu Du’s bracelet from him. He grips it between his fingers, breathing rapidly, wanting to say something but has no idea where to begin. They’re both red in the face, blood rushing through their ears, but Duan Ling is wearing a small, shy smile on his face.

And yet in the next moment, without a word at all, Wu Du gets up and runs into the forest of peach trees.

“Wu Du?” Duan Ling calls him, but Wu Du isn’t stopping at all. In two shakes he’s run so far not even a shadow of him can be seen anymore.

Duan Ling stares into the dark speechlessly, no idea what’s happening, but when he chases over he finds Wu Du turning somersaults under a tree, following them with a sweeping kick and several punches, whipping up the leaves and flower petals so they flutter like a cloud around him.

Duan Ling laughs, and Wu Du suddenly turns around. When he realises that Duan Ling’s spotted him, he dodges behind a tree trunk.

Duan Ling puts on the bracelet. Meanwhile, Wu Du has closed his eyes with his back against a peach tree, revealing that slightly roguish yet captivating smile.

Duan Ling has no idea what he should say. It seems as though everything has changed through this one evening, and the scenery before him has taken on a special meaning. I actually kissed him earlier! Where did I find the courage to do that? Wu Du’s lips were scorching hot and soft, not at all the way he’d imagined them to be, and he’s still thinking about the sensation he had in the very instant he kissed him.

Wu Du turns his head to peer from behind the tree, and finds Duan Ling sitting on the rock, stock still, with his back to him, facing the mountain range and valleys beneath the moon.

Flute music begins again, but this time it’s an elated, cheerful melody. Duan Ling turns to look; Wu Du is standing beneath a tree, playing another tune that sounds like a folk song. A smile spreads over Duan Ling’s face.

“What song is that?”

When Wu Du finishes playing it, he puts the flute away and answers him with a smile, “Little Water Clock. I only ever heard the master’s wife play it once, so. I don’t even remember if that’s exactly how it goes.”5

Wu Du returns to his seat by Duan Ling’s side, and they look at each other, smiling without words.

Then, Wu Du turns a fraction, and reaches out to wrap his arm around Duan Ling’s waist. He puts his other hand over Duan Ling’s cheek, and with a slightest tilt of his head, he seals Duan Ling’s lips with a kiss.

Duan Ling touches Wu Du’s face; the bracelet is wrapped around that wrist.

This kiss lingers on and on, as though long suppressed emotions have finally breached the surface, and in the blink of an eye their feelings have transformed into a raging flood, thoroughly drowning them both.

Wu Du doesn’t want to let go of Duan Ling even for a moment; he has his arms wrapped around Duan Ling’s waist, and almost pressing him against the rock, licks into his mouth. Duan Ling feels his cheeks growing ever hotter under this assault, and as time drips by he’s more sure that Wu Du is growing more impertinent in his plunder.

Duan Ling really is getting way too nervous, and he can’t help but struggle. As he does, Wu Du loosens his hold on him and swallows, staring into his eyes as though he has also realised that he’s gone a bit overboard. He lets go of him at once and asks uneasily, “I didn’t … I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Duan Ling shakes his head. He’s not sure why, but the scene he spied in the Bouquet Pavilion is surfacing in his mind again and it really is too exciting. However, he can’t seem to accept something like that just yet.

“Let’s … head back.” Duan Ling thinks that if they’re going to kiss then they’d better kiss indoors — at least they’ll have a roof over their heads.

Wu Du has come to his senses as well and says, “It’s windy, you better not catch a cold. Let’s go.”

Duan Ling and Wu Du slot their fingers together, and holding hands they stroll leisurely through the mountain paths back to the house.

“Mi … lord.” Duan Ling suddenly remembers what he called him, and smiles at the thought.

Wu Du is finding that funny as well, and the corner of his mouth is turning up before he knows it. His gaze goes from Duan Ling to the path before them, a narrow path passing through a boundless cloud sea, shimmery with moonlight, cutting through towering mountains.

As they go to sleep at night, Duan Ling can’t help reaching out to touch Wu Du’s chest, and they’re wrapped in each other’s embrace again; Wu Du leans in and kiss him cautiously, their bodies rubbing against each other through two thin layers of cloth, both of them growing scorchingly hot. It’s the first time Duan Ling has ever done anything like this, and it just happens to be spring when brand new desires are starting to bloom, while Wu Du has been studying the martial arts for years, and with no avenue of release for his longing, his breath burns him, wishing he could hold on to Duan Ling and simply have his way with him.

They kiss and kiss again; Wu Du’s hand slides under Duan Ling’s waistband, but when it goes over the curve of his hip and reaches his ass, Duan Ling starts to gasp urgently, and Wu Du swallows.

“Do I have to … to … do that?” Without warning, Duan Ling suddenly feels a bit scared.

Sobering, Wu Du thinks about this for a moment. “It’ll hurt you a lot, so not right now. Let’s do that some other time.”

Duan Ling nods and relaxes somewhat. He holds onto Wu Du, studying his features. Wu Du gives him another kiss and whispers, “I can’t bear to hurt you.”

And so Duan Ling smiles again. They’re pressed up against each other, with that hard thing between their legs rubbing together through the thin cloth of their pants. Even if it’s behind a sheet of fabric Duan Ling can still feel how big and hard Wu Du is — so much bigger than his own. Duan Ling just thinks it feels so good to rub against him like this, and he’s getting wet down there as he does so.

Wu Du’s breathing trembles, feeling so good he shivers all over, and soon enough he decides to simply turn them so that Duan Ling is beneath him, so that his weight is pressed down on Duan Ling as he kisses his lips, kisses the corner of his mouth.

After embracing each other for a while, they both somehow feel calmer, and neither of them say anything at all, just stare into each other’s eyes. Wu Du still can’t help smiling. “It’s like I’m dreaming.”

They’ve been kissing each other over and over yet Duan Ling isn’t prepared to do this or that … but he feels somewhat curious about it after all. “Does it really hurt a lot? Have you tried it?”

“I haven’t. Zheng Yan was the one who said that … yeah.”

“He’s tried it?”

Wu Du isn’t sure what he’s supposed to say to that. He reaches into Duan Ling’s shirt, touching him until it tickles. Duan Ling’s hands are behind Wu Du’s neck though, so he has no way of fighting back, and all he can do is beg for mercy repeatedly until Wu Du lets up. “He’s a ne’er do well who has a tendency to paw at pretty young men. I’ve been told that if you’re not careful it can hurt a lot. I don’t want you to develop a fear of it. When we get home I’ll get some … uh … at any rate I’ll take care of it. You don’t have to think about it anymore.”

Duan Ling understands now, and comes to think that is perhaps true. But he thinks that’s fine too — Wu Du’s tall figure pressing down against him gives him an overwhelming feeling of safety.

“I’ll take you home too, in the future,” Duan Ling whispers, his eyes roaming over Wu Du’s handsome features.

“You’ll go back some day.”

Wu Du thought Duan Ling was talking about the palace, but what Duan Ling meant was Xunyang. He’ll go there with Duan Ling at some point also. It’s springtime in Xunyang right now; the flowers must have already bloomed.

I do not monetise my hobby translations, but if you’d like to support my work generally or support my light novel habit, you can either buy me a coffee or commission me. This is also to note that if you see this message anywhere else than on tumblr, do come to my tumblr. It’s ad-free. ↩︎

From Du Fu’s poem, 望嶽 / “Mountain Gazing”. ↩︎

You can see the painting here. ↩︎

Also known as Go. ↩︎

The original here actually says Little Water Clock · Golden Hairpin, but the first part is the melody, while the second part is the lyrics. Golden Hairpin is a poem about love. ↩︎

#相見歡 #fei tian ye xiang #joyful reunion #xiang jian huan #fox translates things #probably shouldn't read this chapter in public

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wickedgamesoyaoya · 3 years

Note

hello self - tumblr continues to hate us so let's just post this way #yolo

Can the past truly be rewritten? Can one simply erase the thunder and rain, leaving behind only the rainbows and sunshine? Can the imperfections be ushered away with the eraser shavings? Or will they remain engrained into the page – its presence serving as a reminder that no one can escape their past.

The answer of course, is that the past cannot be rewritten.

Recently, there were three people, connected by destiny, who struggled to accept this fact. Unfortunately, you were included in said group. But instead of surrendering, you chose to wield your stubbornness as a sword, refusing to accept reality, and refusing to accept defeat. The truth of the matter was… you could not afford to concede. As if you did, you would never be able to return to the love that bathed your world in colour. And the world has stolen far too much from you – could you really survive if it stole him?

You needed to rewrite these last few months, if you didn’t, every moment you shared with him would be tainted in a blinding crimson. The warnings issued by your best friend and sister were true – you knew that what your relationship needed was time. But you were absolutely terrified that time would not be enough to mend the damage. And so, your mind remained clouded with thoughts of fantasy and seized by fear.

“I’m leaving now, Tooru. Have fun at practice later.” A faint smile was presented in the setter’s direction, as you shoved your right hand into your jacket pocket.

“Have fun, y/n-y/n! But not too much fun.” The mocha haired male ripped his gaze away from the cellphone screen, before tossing a playful wink.

Rolling your eyes, a gentle laugh was pushed past your teeth. You were thankful that he remained oblivious to the surge of emotions thrashing against the thin mask you prepared for him. It was better this way – fake it until you make it, right?

As you began down the hallway, the clicking of your boots with the surface soon syncretized with your breathing, forcing it to a slower pace. Once in the elevator, you removed your hand from your pocket, analyzing it for any defects. The caffeine consumed earlier prompted tremors to claim your fingers. It was a miracle you were able to complete your texts without any mistakes. But it appeared that after steadying your breathing pattern, your limbs returned to regular functioning.

Maybe it would be okay. Everything would be okay.

The mantra was repeated internally until you reached the lobby, providing a boost of confidence to your step. Within a few seconds you were able to locate the one responsible for your frazzled mental state. The familiar black-haired male was stood outside the glass barriers with his eyes glued to the cement below. Dressed in blue jeans and a thin corduroy jacket, he sincerely outshined any models you were fortune enough to collaborate with. The sight flooded your senses with adoration, drowning out the remaining anxiety that inhibited your veins. When he caught onto your presence, a smile warmed his features and you found yourself unable to maintain a frown.

At the end of the day, he was still the same man you fell in love with. The same one who filled your days with love and happiness.

Perhaps that would be enough to override the scarlet rain that loomed over you.

“Hi there.” When you joined your fiancé outside, a teasing smirk tugged at the ends of your lips. “Look at you, lookin’ like a whole ass snack.”

“Well, hello to you too. I’m glad you approve of my outfit.” Joy glimmered in his grey irises while a low chuckle was expelled. He was skeptical in asking his brother for fashion guidance earlier, but it seemed that his twin’s advice was useful once again.

“Are you sure you’re not the model, and I’m the cook in the relationship? I mean, I do make some mean onigiri.” Proceeding a step closer to him, you trailed the tips of your fingers along the sleeve of his coat, permitting your fingers to linger when you reached his wrist.

His eyes flickered to your wandering hand, and without missing a beat, he caught your fingers with his, weaving them together naturally. Truthfully, he wanted to embrace you or obtain some form of physical contact the second he laid eyes on you, what he was searching for was permission. He was unsure what boundaries were required under the circumstances, but he was thankful that he was still allowed to hold your hand.

“You do. I have a lot to learn from you, chef.” With his gaze returning to yours, you were quick to notice how the physical contact eased him.

“You’re so cheesy.” Clicking your tongue, you shook your head, feigning disappointment. The theatrical response served as a distraction from the heat flowing from his skin and the little tingles spreading along your arm. But when Osamu squinted at you with an adorable pout fixing onto his lips, your resolve to continue the performance was completely obliterated. He was only playing along with your charade, and yet his response had led you to shift tactics. “Good thing I like cheese!”

Amazing save, right?

“Yeah, good thing.” The forced retort granted the cook a surge of confidence, and in a surprising movement, he leaned forward, pressing a small kiss to the tip of your nose. The exchange forced an imaginary clog to immediately form inside your throat. Needless to say, you did not see that coming.

In an attempt to dismiss the swirl of emotions his action instigated, you pushed away from him, before beginning down the pathway. Issuing a cough to clear your passageways, your attention was forced onto a random building. “Okay, come on. We’ve got a fifteen-minute walk to go. Follow me.”

Exhaling a laugh mixed with a sigh, he nodded, trailing close behind you.

“I’ll follow you anywhere, y/n.”

The journey to the botanical garden was mostly filled with playful banter, and half-hearted laughter. Somehow you had successfully managed to fool yourself into thinking that everything was fine – that your relationship was not littered in punctures. It was peaceful; the fantasy you had created. It was safe.

The botanical garden that Osamu had selected for your first stop was laid out in the style of a French garden, with a green house that resembled a crystal palace. Breathtaking was surely an understatement, and for the first time since you joined him, Osamu found himself entranced by something other than your presence. Tightening his grip around your hand, he gently brushed his thumb against your skin in a soothing manner.

“This is incredible.” The proclamation was accompanied by a wide-eyed expression. He was never into gardens; but even he was in awe at the sight ahead.

Humming in agreement, you shifted your attention to the centre fountain. It was your favourite spot on the land, and consequently where you took a picture of teddiursa for your Instagram page.

“It feels like a fairy-tale garden, huh?”

The suggestion forced him to return his gaze to you, prompting you to raise an eyebrow quizzically.

“With you here, it sure does.” He was evidently pleased with the corny statement, a fact that could be ascertained by the little twitch of his mouth. He was clearly attempting to suppress his laughter.

“You better not be saying I am a princess, because you and I both know that is not true.” Contorting your features in artificial irritation, a little huff was discharged. But the theatrics were dismantled when he voiced his explanation, replacing irritation with surprise.

“Oh, of course not. But even demons need a place to live.”

“Demon?!” Halting abruptly on the path, your mouth opened and shut twice as you struggled to find a suitable response.

“Not just a demon, the prettiest demon.” Finally releasing the laughter, he stored inside his chest, he tugged you into his embrace, before pressing his cheek against your head. A growl erupted inside of your throat as you begrudgingly rested your forehead against his chest.

“Yeah yeah. Nice save.”

A comfortable silence blanketed over you two as you began along the pathway, observing and admiring the flower-filled beds and impeccably manicured geometric lawns. However, comfort slowly morphed into distress as you wandered deeper into the vined arches that connected the greenhouse and the “garden of senses”. Without the distraction of conversation, it was straining to drown out the whispers issued by the little voice inside your head. The whispers gradually increased in volume until you could no longer differentiate your own voice from the creatures fuelling your anxiety.

It won’t last – this isn’t real. It is solely a fantasy you have forced upon yourself to cope. He doesn’t love you like he did – no matter what you do now… your love will always be infected with a fatal disease.

The featured attraction hosted only two other visitors; a couple. The happiness emanating from the couple stole the tiniest bit of sanity you were clinging to. And when the stranger knelt down on one knee, reaching for an item in his jacket, nausea bubbled inside your stomach. The sight should have not twisted your guts, tangling your organs – but it did. And it hurt. God, it hurt.

“Hey, come here.”

Despite the waves of agony that came packaged with the sight ahead; you could not stop watching. Not until your fiancé’s voice broke you from your trance. As you rubbed away at the tears hanging onto your lashes, Osamu guided you along the path until you reached an isolated portion of the garden. Once you were alone, and no longer in earshot of any others, he released your hand, then brushed through his hair in frustration.

“I know what you’re doing. You don’t have to act okay, y/n. You don’t have to force yourself to be happy.” The frustration was aimed at himself, for inadvertently pushing for some sense of normalcy. It was selfish for him to have wanted it – to have hoped for it.

“Well shit, guess I blew my cover.” The comment was coated in sarcasm, though you intended for it to sound lighter than it did. The tears resting upon the pads of your fingers did not also help the tense atmosphere.

“I need you to know that you have every right to be angry. You’re allowed to hate me!” The latter of the sentence was vocalized in a lower octave, a detail that only brought you to feel defeated. Because you don’t hate him, and you can’t hate him. “I deserve it all. But if we really want to move on, it can’t be like this.” Unsure what to do with himself, he shifted on the spot uncomfortably, tugging at his roots.

“You idiot. I don’t hate you. I hate this situation. I hate that it got to this.” Dragging a palm down your visage, a groan was muffled. “It’s fine. Can we just enjoy this, please?”

Just keep pretending that it’s okay. Keep pretending. Please. Let me keep pretending.

“No. I can’t enjoy it when you’re hurting.” Shaking his head, sorrow crossed his face, molding his features. “Talk to me. Tell me what I can do to lessen the pain.” A small step was advanced closer, he was seconds from capturing you in his arms once more, desperate to fix the pieces he damaged.

But his ambitions were momentarily abandoned when rageful sentiments ripped from your throat. “I want to start over. I want to erase what happened! Can you do that, ‘Samu?! Do you have a damn magic pencil and a magic storybook that can fix everything?!” Clenching your teeth, your eyelids narrowed into daggers. Of course, your question was unreasonable, you knew that. But you were exhausted, so damn exhausted and you didn’t care.

You genuinely expected him to point out the flaws in your request, yet instead you were met with laughter. Pressing a palm against his stomach, the cook laughed loudly, even stumbling a step back in the process. At this point it was impossible to tell who was the insane one – him or you.

“Are you laughing at my pain, you sadistic gremlin?” Your mascara heavy eyelids fluttered open and shut as you strived to comprehend what was occurring.

Osamu raised a finger, silently requesting that you abandon your accusations as he composed himself.

“No. I’m laughing at the fact you’re screaming at me and referencing a tv show at the same time. It’s the most you thing you’ve done in a while.” Resuming his mission to eliminate the space between you, he caught your face with both of his palms, before aligning his forehead with yours. His reasons for breaking into laughter held some logic, but a pout still registered onto your mouth. And even with your foreheads connected, you averted your stare, unable to maintain eye contact. “Listen to me, y/n. I don’t have a magic pencil, or a magic storybook. And don’t even think of asking if I have a hot tub time machine. But I will do whatever I can to make this right. Just tell me… something reasonable.”

For a moment, you chewed on the inside of your cheek, contemplating what answer to bestow upon him. In the end, your heart took reign of your vocal cords, leaving your brain face palming in shame. “I wanna redo these last three months.”

Woops, you said it.

Osamu blinked down at you, mulling over your strange request. If he could snap his fingers and go back in time, he would. But maybe there was another way to accomplish this goal. Inhaling a breath, he nudged his nose against yours in effort to gain your wandering attention. “Okay. Let’s do that. I’ll reset our phones, and calendars. We can do it right. You can do more gigs and I’ll follow you around the world. I won’t miss a single thing.” The proposal did not contain a single hint of humour, he needed you to know that he was serious.

“Really?” His words impelled a fluttering sensation to bloom inside your chest. The fact he was even entertaining your bizarre request was astounding. It was enough to nourish the seed of hope that was planted with his arrival.

“Yeah. Really.” Lowering his face, he guided his mouth to yours. The tenderest kiss was applied to your lips, lasting barely a minute. You loved how you could taste the sweetness of the tea he had earlier in the day. How his lips fit against yours perfectly. And mostly, you loved that this time, the action did not fill you with fear for the future.

You were simply… hopeful, and maybe a little bit excited.

“So what do you say, y/n? Let’s do it again, shall we?”

Let’s do it again, shall we - let’s do it again

Masterlist - Previous - Next

A/N: after battling with tumblr for days, I AM OVER THIS. :( BUT THANK YOU GUYS FOR YOUR PATIENCE AND STAYING BY ME EVEN THO I POST SO SLOWLY ;-;-; YOU GUYS ARE WONDERFUL.

taglist: @idiot-juice-enthusiast @vicassa @yourstarvic @suna-r1n@newfriendjen @hikarichannn @anime-simp @tsukkismamagucci @laughingismorefun @astronomyturtle @shegrewupwithoutafather @hyskoa1998 @deephumandragonperson @pretty-setter-bois @raenebalgaire @sugawarabby @justanotherfangirl2 @keijisworld @90s-belladonna @momoinot @sempiternal-amour @cherryblosom111 @yqshirov @haikyuufairy @volleybloop @bloody-bella @4fterh0urs @seikamuzu @namyari @toaster-stick @coconut-dreamz @roseestuosity @prcttylittlcthing @uzumakioden @nerdynstoned @kenmasgameboy @unstableye @ouijaeater15 @aquariarose @fandomtrashpandasposts @helloalex80 @stfucanunot @envyusshades @cuddlesslut @seijohiseliterambles @meiikuki @cuddlejeongin @tchalameme @elianetsantana @hxked

#osamu smau #haikyuu smau #osamu x y/n #osamu x you #osamu x reader

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1990jeevas · 3 years

Text

Braid Me a Home

summary:

"Braid my fucking hair, Theseus. Braid it.”

It had sounded like a plea falling from Techno’s chapped lips, blood caked under his nails as he sat in front of Tommy on a tree stump, slowly itching at his wrists.

“Wilbur told me to stop you if you ever started doing that-”

“Wilbur isn’t fucking here. Just...braid, Toms. Braid.”

A story about the Sleepy Bois being family, told through braids.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: child neglect, hurt/no comfort, canonical character death, implied/referenced mental health issues (like it’s obvious but there isn’t much detail to it), brief blood mentions (ik this fic sounds kinda angsty as hell but its not? imo its light angst)

a/n: first dream smp fic and im ALREADY projecting? christ. anyways. go easy on me pls this is far from my best work i just havent written a fic in like 5 months (more if you dont count the fucking chat fics) mm also i may have posted this like a week ago on ao3 just to test the waters and its already gotten way more comments and kudos than any fic of mine usually gets this early on so hopefully tumblr enjoys it too :]

—

When Wilbur Soot was born, he came out crying, as most babies do. Covered in vernix and blood, he weighed just barely above the seven-pound mark, gasping out sharp cries that only a parent could truly stand, or worse—love. Though he was the second baby born into the family that day, he was fussed over far more than he would ever be again.

Technoblade, on the other hand, had barely made a sound when he came out, a trail of blood smeared across his forehead, almost as if it was meant to be there. He made small noises that were more akin to confused mumbles, weakly grasping at his father’s hair when he was eventually passed on for the second child to be welcomed into the world.

Only when both boys were held in their father’s grasp did Wilbur quiet down, his soft head leaning into his father’s beard as he stared wide eyed at the boy across from him. Though they looked similar enough, Technoblade’s nose was squished further back into his face, appearing almost snout-like to Philza. Of course Wilbur noted this, wiggling until their father somehow managed to get them pressed right up against each other with minimal damage done. Though Techno never stopped squinting like an annoyed old man at Wilbur, he allowed the other to press a fist against his nose, his eyebrows unfurrowing just the slightest bit at the touch.

From that day on, Philza was the father of two twin boys—a loud boy who cried easily, but always calmed down for his older brother, and a rather monotone one, who’s face seemed to be permanently stuck in a scowl, unless said face was being smushed around by the younger. And things worked like that for a while. Not forever, but...a while.

—

Philza taught Wilbur to braid on a hot Monday afternoon.

It had been a rough day for the boy, though Phil hadn’t a clue why. Maybe he had just woken up on the wrong side of the bed? Or maybe he hadn’t slept enough between bedtime and the time Tommy had started crying again, the youngest boy’s crib being right beside his head and all. Though it might’ve seemed cruel from an outsider’s perspective, Wilbur had been the one to ask for it. Something about Tommy being his little brother and how he needed to teach the boy the ways of the world in the same way Techno had taught him—because apparently that was all Techno’s doing now, not Phil’s.

Regardless, Wilbur had been a bit too snippy for Phil’s liking that day, complaining about every little thing they did until finally, the day was over.

Well, as over as it could be with Techno leaving mid foam sword fight, an annoyed shout of ‘I quit!’ leaving his mouth before he snatched up Tommy’s carrier and brought him inside for god knows what reason.

It had only been around four P.M. by that time—too early for dinner, yet too late for Phil to really demand the boy stay outside and continue to entertain himself with a brother who was clearly not entertained himself.

Details aside, Phil isn’t really sure how they got to braiding. He just knows at some point they did and by the end of their outside time, just before the clock struck six, Wilbur had made two thick, messy braids in his hair. They stuck out awkwardly, looking all too similar to Pippi Longstocking’s iconic hairdo for his comfort, but he’d be damned if he took out the braids his son had so happily rushed inside to show his older brother before demanding to do his hair as well. After all, Wilbur didn’t have long enough hair for braids, but Technoblade sure as hell did. It was only at his shoulder blades back then, brunette curls wrapping around his narrow shoulders and thin arms like thick vines.

Wilbur had always enjoyed brushing it out with his fingers and putting cute, handmade clips or flowers in it at random, decorating the waves for his brother who was more than happy to let the boy do as he pleased. Though he would never admit it, Technoblade liked how it felt when Will played with his hair. He was always careful not to tug too hard, prioritizing the comfort of his other half more than the beauty of his work, as he so often referred to it.

So when Will had presented him with the mess that was his first two braids, he wasn’t hesitant at all to let the boy practice on him. Instead, he walked to the couch with a small smile, removing his glasses gently and getting comfortable before his brother plopped down into the space behind him. Long legs draped over long legs with no warning, thighs pressed together as if they were meant to be like that all along—and they might as well have been, for how often they did this.

Phil had watched them from the doorway in content silence, Tommy sitting behind him in a wooden high chair looking bored, but not making a fuss for once. And as he left that doorway to begin dinner, he listened to their muffled conversation and soft bursts of laughter with a small smile on his lips, for he knew things wouldn’t always be this way. They would have to grow up eventually, and when they did, things would change. Phil could only hope it was for the better.

—

When Tommy turns nine, Wilbur teaches him to braid under circumstances not too different from the ones he had learned under himself.

Well. Not too too different.

Philza and Technoblade had been...busy as of late. In the house for three days, out for a week, in for a week, out for three more, over and over and over again. Wilbur had become more like a father to Tommy in recent months than he should’ve been, his fourteenth birthday fast approaching as their father took Techno out for yet another job, one that Wilbur couldn’t come on because he was too fucking weak to do anything Techno could do, too fucking stupid to learn all the techniques Techno did, lacking all the strength and agility his older sibling possessed, like the useless prick he was-

Right. This is about Tommy.

When Tommy was nine, his hair rested gently against his collarbones in the exact same cut and color as their father wore. If Wilbur was a lesser man, he would’ve hated the kid for it, but it wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t see what a selfish git their father truly was yet. All he knew was that their dad was busy a lot and that, for some reason, Techno needed to go with him. Apparently, that was enough for him to keep holding onto the idea that one day, the man would stay longer and maybe, just maybe, show him some of the same care that his older brother did.

If Wilbur was a better man, he would tell Tommy the truth. He would tell him all about the way Philza had called him useless in a fight, forcing him to instead stay home and care for a child while still being one himself. He would mention how Philza had given him no instructions on how to care for a developing child, how he left out key details to parenting on his own as a goddamn thirteen-year-old, yet remembered to tell him things would be better this way because god forbid he does his fucking job as a father for anyone but Technoblade—

Who he missed. He missed Technoblade, his other half, so fucking bad it hurt sometimes—so bad it left him gasping for breath at two A.M., his head pounding in tandem with his uneven heartbeat, lungs burning as his snot and tears soaked into his brother’s cold, cold sheets. And it made him feel fucking pathetic because the truth of the matter was that...Techno had left him behind too. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to hate the older boy, no matter how hard he tried. Couldn’t hate Philza either, if he were to be honest with himself, but it was a lot easier to pretend he did when his father was the one putting them all in this position to begin with.

So, Tommy was nine when he learned how to braid.

Phil had promised him and Techno would be back Tuesday morning.

It was Wednesday afternoon.

Tommy didn’t fucking understand, and as frustrating as it was that the prick decided to take it out on Wilbur, he couldn’t blame him. Who else was he supposed to take this shit out on? Certainly not the man who had yet to return.

Wilbur had started the braid as a way to distract him. It was simple, really—tell him you know something he doesn’t and that he won’t get to know if he doesn’t sit the fuck down and listen.

When he had started tugging the boy’s hair back from his face, his immediate reaction was to jerk away, swatting at the hands that hovered over his shoulders. This only happened once or twice more before he let it happen naturally, his posture stiff as Wilbur ran his fingers through the boy’s hair with practiced ease.

Though it may not have seemed like it, Tommy was significantly more averse to touch than Techno had ever been. The only reason Techno even seemed averse to it was because of his hesitance to initiate, something he and Wilbur had discussed in depth. Rejection was one of the few fears Technoblade truly had and Wilbur held that fact close to his heart, ready to die with it if need be. Tommy, on the other hand? He was very particular about where and when and why someone was touching him, and it had taken Wilbur a long time to get used to that fact. But, he wasn’t about to make his little brother uncomfortable just so he could be happy and, eventually, he learned the ins and outs of how to touch TommyInnit without causing issue.

Pulling a few of the shorter strands towards the front of Tommy’s face loose, Will separated the blonde’s hair into three sections. They were rather small, what with how thin and short his hair was, it just barely being long enough to even have a proper braid in it, but Wilbur knew he could make it work.

“Now, Toms, you gotta listen to me here, because I can’t show you this bit, yeah? Phil and Tech aren’t here, and my hair is too short, so you’ll just have to feel it out for now, but...this is how you braid hair-” Wilbur had said in a soft voice, brushing the pad of his thumb over the boys neck slowly to ease the tension out of his shoulders. The effect was immediate, the boy slouching forward as if he had just noticed he was holding himself so sternly. Smiling softly, Wilbur instructed him on how to weave the strands together, answering questions and pulling lightly at Tommy’s hair so he could feel exactly where everything went. After he was done, Tommy had reached back to feel the bumps in his hair, all his earlier anger seemingly gone as he gave a small smile. And then he tried it himself.

Of course he got a bit of help at first, Wilbur’s larger hands guiding his own with gentle corrections, but after that Tommy worked on it alone, his older brother watching in silence from a patch of grass beside the porch step.

That night, Tommy and Wilbur slept in Techno’s bed, a soft, blue blanket wrapped tightly around them. And if another body woke them up at some point that night, shoving its way into the mess of limbs, their chest pressed right up against the youngest boy’s back, then that was only for them to know.

—

At eleven years old, Tommy takes a pair of scissors to his hair. With flushed cheeks and salty lips, his hands shaking and his eyes foggy, he cuts, cuts, cuts, until he can no longer braid his hair—until he can no longer look like fucking Phil.

Even though Wilbur had once said he hated Tommy’s long hair—hated how similar he and their dad looked—he felt like crying as he ran his fingers through the uneven strands. He didn’t tell his brother this though, instead grabbing his face and planting a wet kiss on his freckled forehead. In a fierce whisper, Wilbur had said, “I’m so fucking proud of you, Tommy. So fucking proud.”

Tommy never forgets the way he felt that day. He doesn’t forget Wilbur’s words either.

—

When Wilbur loses his last life, Technoblade tells Tommy to braid his hair.

It wasn’t a question either, but a demand forced out between gritted teeth, his face red, his nose stuffy and his lashes wet with unshed tears. Still, his words were clear as day.

“Braid my fucking hair, Theseus. Braid it.”

It had sounded like a plea falling from Techno’s chapped lips, blood caked under his nails as he sat in front of Tommy on a tree stump, slowly itching at his wrists.

“Wilbur told me to stop you if you ever started doing that-”

“Wilbur isn’t fucking here. Just...braid, Toms. Braid.”

Tommy sniffled, but did as he was told.

Maybe it was because he was too tired to argue with the only person he even had left. Maybe it was because he could tell Technoblade was mad at their father for the first time in his life, and he knew how bad his first time had felt. Or, maybe, it was just because he knew Techno fucking cared. Nobody else seemed to, but he knew Techno did and...that was enough for him.

As long as someone else cared—as long as it was fucking Technoblade—that was enough for him.

Just as Tommy had finished the braid, curling his finger around the light pink tail that tied the whole thing off, Techno yanked it forward. Before he could even register that the hair had left his hand, the older boy had taken an axe to the top of it, letting the rest of his hair fall around his face in uneven curls. Though it was a good ten minutes of work wasted, Tommy couldn’t say a damn thing as he watched Techno pocket the braid, muttering a thank you and heading in the direction of Wilbur’s unofficial grave.

In that moment, he felt relief for the first time in a long while.

—

Wilbur Soot was born covered in vernix and blood, weighing just barely above the seven-pound mark, and he came into the world much like he left it. Everyone had heard his cries—even if they weren’t there, even if they didn’t know him well—they had saw the way he spiraled, desperate and afraid and paranoid, searching for help, but never receiving enough.

And though he was the second child born, he left the world first, returning in a yellow sweater with a small braid tucked behind his ear. He didn’t really know why he had one, but he remembered braiding Techno’s hair and he remembered teaching Tommy how to do his own and he remembered, he remembered, he remembered the braids.

#dream smp #/dsmp #dsmp #sleepy bois inc #sbi #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #technoblade #philza #ph1lza #fic #fics #fanfic #fanfiction #the dream smp #shit self #dami writez #/rp #dsmp fic

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marvel-ousfairy · 3 years

Text

“Flesh eating plants, are you kidding me???” NALU Oneshot

Author’s Note: Ummm... So I don’t normally post my own writings, but I wrote this literally years ago and figured it was about time I posted it. Better late then never, right? *Chuckles nervously* Anyways, there are a few plot holes and things but I’m honestly too lazy to change it sooo, here you go! Let me know what y’all think. (Also I appologize in advance for any wierd formatting issues. I blame Tumblr.)

Warnings: Fighting, angst with a fluffy ending, killer plants? idk what else to put haha. If you read it and think there are any other warnings I should add, please please let me know.

Pairing(s): NaLu

_____

“Open, Gate of the Golden Bull: Taurus!” Lucy Heartfilia shouted, summoning the celestial spirit to her side.

“Mooo! It’s nice to see you again, Miss Luuucy.” Her celestial spirit, Taurus, drawled as the golden light of Lucy’s magic dissipated.

A large crash echoed through the forest near Magnolia as Lucy dove to avoid getting hit by a thick plant root, only a gaping hole left of the earth where she previously stood.

“Not the time,” Lucy panted before struggling to her feet again. “I need you to get in there and snap those vines!” she directed.

Celestial Wizard Lucy Heartfilia, her partner Fire Dragon Slayer Natsu Dragneel, and their cat companion, Happy, had taken a simple job helping out a local farmer. The request had asked for a few wizards to come assist in the extermination of the vermin rampaging through the owner’s crops.

“Stop pouting,” she said as the trio walked through town towards the agricultural district. “At least you get to beat something up.” She smiled, glancing around at the fruit and vegetable stalls lining the streets.

The pink haired wizard crossed his arms before letting out an offended huff. “I’m a dragon slayer, not an exterminator.” He whined.

The blonde let out a giggle, ignoring his petulant child act. Her laughter didn’t last long, however. Upon their arrival at the little farm, the trio soon realized that things weren’t as they appeared. Much to Lucy’s horror and Natsu’s delight, the vermin that needed bashing turned out to be full-fledged, plant-based monsters.

“’Let’s do it’ I said. ‘This will be easy’ I said. How does a Venus Flytrap even grow this large?” Lucy grumbled as she jumped over another stream of murderous plant roots. Finally finding solid ground, she pointed Taurus towards the twisted nether of roots and stems that kept the frightening flora grounded. Meanwhile, Natsu busied himself with torching the other five or so reanimated plants that littered the forests edge.

“Fire Dragon: Roar!” He let out a manic laugh as his flames transformed an entire line of trees into glittering torches, burning friend and foe indiscriminately.

“Natsu, watch where you’re aiming,” Lucy scolded, letting loose a disgruntled shout as she once again narrowly missed a blow to the side via killer plants. The self-proclaimed farmer, apparently, was a wizard himself who specialized in foreign herbs with magical properties. Their current foes were the result of his latest creations gone very wrong.

“We already owe a great deal in repair costs as it is. The master will kill us if we burn down another building,” she reminded him, hand on her hip.

“Yeah, Yeah.” Natsu shrugged as he incinerated yet another row of trees and crops. “Stop with your naggin’ already. We’ll be fi– Hey Lucy, watch out!” The dragon slayer let out a roar as Lucy whipped around. A faint gasp swept past her lips as a verdant blur crossed her vision. Pain ricocheted down her left side as a stray vine from the Flytrap knocked her to the ground, tangling with her legs and whipping her towards the Venus’ awaiting jaws.

“Argh,” Natsu screamed, face contorted in anger. “Fire Dragon: Wing Attack!” The vines that dug at her skin, slowly encroaching upon her torso, were suddenly engulfed in flame and burnt to a crisp. She yelped as Natsu’s flames left her stranded in the open air. With nothing left to catch her fall, she plummeted back down to the rigid ground, her head smacking against the dirt with a harsh crack. A muffled yowl came from beneath her and she rolled over to find a disgruntled Happy scowling back at her.

“You alright, Luce?” Natsu questioned, finishing off the last of the nasty creatures.

“I’m the one in pain,” Happy cried, indignantly. “Lucy squashed me with her fat butt!”

“WATCH IT, CAT!” she screeched at the little blue exceed, the pain from her fall quickly washed into the foreground.

Natsu cackled, causing the celestial spirit mage to turn her glare on him. Noticing the change in atmosphere, he yelped as a certain red-haired wizard came to mind.

“Scary,” he whined. Lucy’s scowl deepened before gifting him with another one of her signature Lucy Kicks.

“Humph,” she muttered, smiling in satisfaction. “Serves you right.”

_____

Later, at the Fairy Tail guildhall, the pair found themselves curled around the bar. Mira wiped down the counters, glancing at the two while she worked. Lucy sat on Natsu’s left with reequip mage Erza Scarlet on his right. Gajeel, Levy, and Pantherlily were located at a table behind him, while Gray was doing his best to avoid an overly exuberant Juvia. Happy had disappeared soon after their arrival back at the guild, dreams of fish and a particular white feline dancing in his head. An overall jubilant air had settled on the guild as members had returned from their missions to settle in for the day.

Lucy leaned against the bar, head spinning, with a strawberry concoction clutched between her palms. A dull ache had settled into her bones since their mission earlier, winding around her mind like a snake. A slight burning sensation danced along her side as a pair of onyx eyes watched her with intensity.

“I’m fine,” she said with a huff, not bothering to turn towards the dragon slayer gazing at her worriedly.

“Lucy, I–”

“Really, Natsu, I’m alright.”

Natsu grumbled, unconvinced, as he finished off the plate of food Mira had set before him. He knew Lucy was lying, but he also knew that she could be just as pigheaded as him. She had been acting strange ever since their return from their earlier expedition. Despite her claims otherwise, he could tell something was up.

Lucy stood up abruptly, letting out a heavy sigh, before turning towards Natsu once more. Ignoring the stars that threatened to consume her vision, she forced a wide smile onto her lips. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll be okay. I think I’m just gonna head home and get some rest. The fight today really took it out of me. Thanks for the drink, Mira.”

She gave one more wave to the white-haired woman before making her way towards the entrance. Before he could make any move to stop Lucy’s departure, Erza placed an armor clad hand on his shoulder. “She’ll be fine, Natsu,” the red-haired warrior assured him. “She can take care of herself.”

He simply nodded, giving Lucy another intense stare before promptly getting knocked off of his barstool by a half-naked Gray. Mira giggled as Natsu let out an enraged scream. Apparently, Juvia had finally caught up to her beloved Gray.

“What the heck was that for, you pervert?” Natsu yelled as he quickly shifted into battle-mode, fists blazing with fire.

“Who you callin’ pervert, flame for brains?” Gray challenged.

Soon after, a fight broke out between the two, eventually expanding into a guild-wide brawl after another slice of Erza’s strawberry cake was destroyed. Lucy, who had been watching from the towering guild doors, shook her head. She let out a yelp as a chair smashed against the wall to her left, before finally disappearing out the door and into the streets of Magnolia.

Despite a slight limp in her step and pain in her side, the walk home wasn’t as bad as she’d first expected it to be. It wasn’t long before she was weaving her way past the ferrymen and stumbling into her apartment with a heavy sigh.

“Home at last,” she hummed to herself. She stretched out her limbs, cringing as her ankle buckled a bit in pain, before making her way toward the bathroom. “Maybe a shower will help wash off the pain from today,” she mused, ridding herself of her blood-stained clothes. With steam flooding the little room and the water temperature set on high, she stepped carefully into the scalding water. A shaky breath escaped her lips, but her mind continued to spin at a rapid fire pace. Groaning in frustration, she tried for another calming breath. Despite her chance to finally relax a bit, she couldn’t manage to quiet her mind. It had already been a long day, now made even longer by the pain that constricted her mind and body. A glance towards her numerous bruises sent a frustrated sigh past her lips, before her features contorted in confusion. A second glance down at her body caused her gaze to quickly slip from confusion to fear. Thin green lines painted swirls and complex designs across her torso, leaving angry red marks in their wake. The vines, she thought. They don’t just feed off human flesh… “They steal magic power!” She shouted, mentally kicking herself for forgetting the farmer’s warnings. He’d told them that this was a possibility.

Her hands shook as she slowly grew more and more hysterical, tearing frantically at the small vines cutting at her body. Just as she made some headway clearing the thin vines, however, the dizziness from before threatened to overtake her. She reached for her keys, only to find them rendered useless. My magic power is too far gone, she cursed. “Loke, Virgo, someone please!” She cried out desperately. They can’t hear me, she sobbed. A single step towards the bathroom door sent her vision shaking. By two steps, the light in the room began to dance. By the third, Lucy could feel herself losing her will to stand. By the forth, she found herself hitting the ground as the ceiling grew further and further away. “Natsu…” She whispered as vines tangle around her mouth. Her vision slipped away as she soon felt herself get swallowed whole by a cocoon of roots and vines, before she finally lost consciousness altogether.

______

Back at the guild hall, things had finally settled down. Luckily, the aftermath of the brawl had been minimal. A few burnt spots, some broken tables and chairs, and a few missing pillars. The building, by some miracle, still stood proudly in the heart of town.

“Where’s Lucy?” Natsu asked, having finally cooled down from his fight with Gray.

“Oh. Lucy? She went home a little bit ago.” Mira said, smiling sweetly from behind the bar.

“You even watched her go, you idiot.” Gray said with a laugh. Natsu shot the Ice mage a scowl.

“He loooooves her.” Happy drawled from his place next to Charle on the bar top.

Natsu reddened in embarrassment, brushing salmon strands out of his face. The dragon slayer stiffened as a ball of anxiety settled into his stomach. His nose twitched as he took in the stale undertones in the air, confirming some unknown fears. He could be wrong, but he knew Lucy. He knew her scent and how it changed depending on her mood. Right now, the thick smell of fear curdled his blood. Something was wrong.

With one last vengeful fireball to Gray’s face, he ran off towards Lucy’s apartment with the blue exceed following close behind. Fellow mages and townsfolk cried out in protest as he pushed by them, but Natsu didn’t notice. Blood pumped in his ears, matching his racing footsteps as he hurtled himself down the stone streets. As Lucy’s apartment came into view he pushed his legs faster, using his fire to boost himself through her window in a single bound.

Once safely inside, the first thing he noticed was the silence. Despite the distinct sound of a shower in the background, the stillness hung like a thick fog in the air, suffocating him. Steam seeped from beneath the bathroom door as he flung it open to reveal a horrific jungle. Vines grew up and off the walls, roots digging out of cracks in the floor. Leafy plants twisted in midair like worms burrowing through the dirt, dragging curious fingers along his face and down his legs. “Lucy!” Natsu shouted, digging through twists and snarls in the vines. “Lucy!” No answer. Frantic, he set his body ablaze, burning down every vine he could get his hands on. The twisted nether of green squealed and screeched, cutting at his arms and face as every vine soon turned to ash. Finally, there was nothing left but a pale sleeping beauty curled up on the scorched and broken tile.

“Lucy…” his voice was barely a whisper as he pulled the blonde into his arms, swaddling her in a nearby towel. Ashen vines were like cobwebs arching across her ghostly pale skin, her fingers tinged blue as if frost bitten. Even her hair seemed somehow drained of life, as the last of her magical energy seemed to fall dangerously low.

“Nat-su,” a shuddering gasp swept past her grey, cracked lips. “Help m-me… S-so c-cold…” Her words came out in little puffs as her eyes fluttered open, straining to gaze up at his face.

“Lucy. Lucy, look at me. I – I’m here. I’m here. I’ve got you.” He hugged her into his chest, his tears melting into sobs as the smell of strawberries and vanilla wrapped around him. Desperately, he looked around the small apartment before his eyes settled on his blue companion, standing wide-eyed at the door.

“Get Wendy!” He cried out to the little exceed.

“Natsu?” His little eyes rounded with horror.

“NOW, HAPPY!”

“A-Aye, sir!” Happy jumped up and gave him a determined nod before soaring back out the open window from whence they’d come.

A shaky hand grasped onto his scarf, pulling his gaze back down to Lucy’s shaking form. She curled like a sunflower into his warmth before letting out a shuttering gasp.

“Don’t leave me,” she wheezed. Every note grated against his ears, her normally melodic voice cracked and broken. Regret settled like a stone in his stomach as he cradled her closer to his chest. “Never,” he whispered.

A soft kiss warmed her clammy skin, flowering across her cheek, as exhaustion finally pulled her into a deep, restless sleep.

______

Warm hands wrapped around her as the smell of wood smoke and cinnamon swirled through the air. She knew that scent. It meant safety, warmth. It meant home.

A slow smile stretched across her lips as her eyes fluttered open to see a chiseled chest and strong arms holding her close. A quick blink shot her eyes upward, only for them to be met with slightly parted lips. As her eyes roamed over the curved planes of his jaw, the slightly parted lips morphed gradually until she was met with a wide, toothy grin. One more shift left her breathless, as she tumbled deep into the depths of his obsidian gaze.

“Natsu –” she stammered.

“Welcome back.” He pulled her closer, resting his forehead onto hers before finally releasing a heavy sigh of relief.

All the pain that had previously ensnared her was gone without a trace. The telltale signs of the guildhall infirmary told her that she had Wendy’s sky magic to thank for that. The warmth that flooded her senses, however, was thanks to her one and only favorite dragon slayer. Although, she doubted it was his naturally higher body temperature that caused warmth to flood her cheeks. Curious eyes peered up at him as his eyes danced behind hooded eyelids. Her very presence seemed to melt him, soften his normally sharp edges.

“Natsu?” She questioned as his face lowered towards hers, their noses brushing together.

“Hmm?” he hummed a response, not quite focusing on her words.

“I –” she began, her words causing their lips to brush. Fire raced through her veins at the sudden touch. A gasp escaped her as their lips finally connected, the sound muffled by the gentle caress of his lips on hers. She felt the fire that raced through him swirling just beneath the skin, held back by an unseen floodgate. He nipped playfully at her bottom lip as their lips danced together in perfect harmony. Abandoning its previous position around her legs, his right hand slid up her side to cup her face while his left hand snaked around her waist, tugging her closer still to his chest. Trails of fire blazed across her skin wherever his fingers danced, sending a shiver of delight down her spine. Her delicate fingers dug into his silky salmon locks as all of their raw emotions were poured out, left open and vulnerable for the other to see. Their kiss grew desperate as the spicy taste of cinnamon filled her senses, causing her toes to curl and her fingers to tug harder at his cotton candy locks. With one last shuddering breath Natsu pulled away, studying her rosy cheeks and her chocolaty brown eyes alight with joy and complete contentment. A deep, throaty chuckle escaped his lips, vibrating against her chest, as he took in her dopey smile. Swollen red lips downturned into a pout, enticing him into another sweet kiss upon her lips, before her dopey grin returned with renewed vigor and her laughter intertwined with his. Lucy gazed sleepily up at Natsu as he mindlessly spun her golden locks through his fingers, a gentle lullaby to her tired mind.

“I –” she began slowly.

“She loooooves him!” came a teasing voice, followed by fits of laughter and giggles. Lucy’s eyes widened, taking in the audience staring at them from the doorway. Spotting the culprit for the interruption, her eyes narrowed on a certain blue exceed hidden in the crowd.

“SHUT IT, CAT!” She screeched as Natsu’s chuckles rolled into cackles, his body shaking as his face twisted with laughter. Lucy burrowed into his scaly white scarf, groans mixing with laughter as she took in a beautiful, terrifying truth. Happy was right about her and Natsu. She really did looooove him, and the adoration he showered down upon her told the mage that he really did looooove her, too.

#fairy tail #Nalu #nalu fanfiction #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #my writing #Hope yall like it #this may or may not be a disaster rip haha

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