#I slipped and fell in the deepend here

[drifting-pieces-blog-blog]

Oh no. I’m back. And I didn’t shut up for 9 pages. I’m sorry. 

Moon Knight. A commentary on mental illness and able-ism? 

I’m not going to dive into the comics because we have…..YEARS of content to unpack there with every single writer. But I am going to brush on it just a little. This is going to be mostly about the show. 

I’m going to preface this by saying that everyone’s experience in anything is going to be different. We are, after all, individuals. You can give the same diagnosis to five different people, and while they will have some overlapping similarities, they will all experience it differently. Honestly, the same goes for any type of handicap, mental illness, religion, autism, or any sort of neurodivergent person. Which is both wonderful and oftentimes frustrating. One person can point at something and scream how wrong it is and toxic, while another will point and say “I feel seen! At last!” We just have to keep in mind that maybe both perspectives are right. Which is hard to do, but all we can do is try. 

Let’s start with the abuse. Wait, let’s go further back. Let’s start with the absolute neglect that was given to Wendy. 

I am not here to apologize for her. She was monstrous and cruel and 100% a destructive force… But what was done to help her in the start? What was done to stop her from taking it out on Marc? 

A mother that just lost her child is in pain and mourning. We see a glimpse of people sitting around, but no one is actually talking to her. Where is her support network? Where are the family and friends? Where is the culture? Where is the Rabbi? If she was not Jewish, or considered a convert, let’s assume the father has his own cultural support. So where is his support? Why is he not grieving with his wife? 

She starts to scream and blame Marc for the loss of her son and the smallest effort is made to stop her. More so, no one follows Marc up the stairs to comfort him. A child that just lost his baby brother. A child that was there and witnessed the drowning of his baby brother. A child that probably just barely escaped death himself. 

There is a lack of a support system. A lack of grief counseling. A lack of spousal support. A lack of spiritual help. A lack of community. 

She sank into alcohol and while we see the father trying to give Marc a normal life of birthday parties and so on, it all feels forced. Nothing is wrong here. Why can’t you just be normal and happy? There is nothing wrong with the family. Your mother doesn’t mean those things she says. She’s just sad sometimes. 

Wendy is spiraling down and at most the husband is a small voice in the background asking her to please get over it. Please don’t do this. Don’t make a scene. 

As a child watching this, you don’t understand why it is happening. This isn’t supposed to happen. Adults are invulnerable. They have all the answers. They are supposed to make things better. The only logical conclusion that can be made is that it is your fault. If you didn’t exist they could be happier. They wouldn’t be so sad. None of this would have happened. 

Next we see a very good example of looking the other way. She starts to beat him. She would have left marks. Using a belt with that much pent up rage, she would not have been careful to only hit so it won’t show. Unless he was dissociating so hard that completely tuned it out, he would have had defensive marks that first time. Hands up, curling up in a little ball to protect himself if she had let him. She might have grabbed his wrists to prevent him from curling up. She would have left bruises there. 

Did the father not notice? Marc would have been too scared to have told him. It was ingrained too much in him that it was his fault and that he deserved this. He wouldn’t have told anyone. But someone would have seen the marks. Over and over again. 

Now we have the failure of a society to talk about or question what was happening at home. A thing that still very very much happens. Why is the kid acting out? Why are they suddenly quiet and submissive? Why are they getting into fights? Clearly they are just a bad child and nothing is going on at home except for a lack of discipline. The school calls up “Hey Marc got into another fight. He’s failing math. He needs more structure at home.” 

This leads to more beatings. 

I wish we had seen more of his interactions with his father. The one scene we got was “Why haven’t you?” as his father begs him not to leave. The one time Marc questions why his father hasn’t done anything to help him or help his mother. 

My personal head canon is that Marc has very little memories from around this time. Especially around his father. Giving his time to Steven, dissociating, and possibly the emergence of Jake all scrambled his memories. I believe that Marc reached a point where he took too much from his mother and that Jake came during a very dark time for the system. Possibly in a psychiatric ward. Possibly during a break down. Possibly in dealing with his father’s failure to properly identify the problem and further putting it on Marc instead of Wendy. I think Jake’s demons lay in facing his father and the lack of proper help and protection Marc was offered. But none of that is solid or supported by the show. Just my own two cents. 

Next we go into the military. Cause they’ve never failed to identify mental illness and give support, right? HA. 

Marc is good at hiding his problems. Scarily good. Going with the show, he’s very very good at masking his autism. Honestly, he takes things at face value, likes structure, and doesn’t understand exaggerations. Of course he thrives in the military. He’s good at it and picks it up. He makes it his drive to understand weapons and fighting. He mostly has Steven figured out at this point. Steven is a switch he can turn on when he feels overwhelmed emotionally. He isn’t going to have that in the military. He has control. He is a picture of perfect cool. 

Except when he isn’t. Marc has anger problems. He is still overwhelmed by other emotions. He has self worth problems. He probably wakes up at night cringing and defending himself from his mother. 

I’m going to go off on a small tangent for a moment, but please hang in there. I met a guy in college who wanted to be a nurse. He was so happy and bouncy and bubbly. A huge buff man that worked out with muscles for days. He was ex army and covered in tattoos. 

He had to give a presentation on something personal and he gave one on PTSD. Now, we all knew he was a former army and had seen action. We all figured “Ah, PTSD from the army guy. He must have seen some fights!” 

His presentation started with how one quiet night he was on guard duty. He got up to check on a weapons shed. He reached up to turn on the light and he was suddenly a small boy again seeing his mother’s hand come flying towards his face. He started having panic attacks, night terrors, and would freeze up in routine situations. He had blocked out the years of abuse his mother had done to him. It all came flying back to him because he got up one night and turned on a light. 

How often do you think Marc would hear someone bang on a door and kick start his fight or flight response? How many times do you think he would start to dissociate because he could hear running water?  

I believe that the only time Marc had full control of himself was in the heat of battle. He could focus on the battle. On getting through. He could feel alive and ignore anything else. He could focus his unchecked rage. He could ignore any pain in the heat of the moment. I think it was when things calmed down and were quiet and he was left to his own thoughts that things got bad for him. 

I think Marc’s own problems started to get in the way. Dissociating, losing time, wandering off because he can’t handle the clam and quiet. Moments where perhaps Steven would come to the surface for just a bit. Moments where Jake might have had to take over because Marc was too lost in his own head. Jake would have had to learn to fight just to get them through. I can imagine the first time Jake was dropped into the middle of some fire fight. The absolute sheer terror and determination to get them out of there. 

So of course Marc gets kicked out. A fugue state. They don’t want to deal with that. Forget sending him to counseling. He came in already broken. It isn’t their fault he can’t handle it like everyone else.  Marc wouldn’t talk to a counselor anyway. He’s been trained not to talk. To put on the mask and make it all fine. 

There is no fall back as a mercenary. No therapy or ‘hey you okay?’. You fight and hope you don’t fall behind and that you get paid. 

I’m not going to get into Khonshu. We all know what he did. His manipulation and using Marc’s problems against him. 

Let’s jump into Steven. Sweet Steven. Here is a man that doesn’t know the definition of Masking. Why would he? He’s never had to. He sees the museum is hiring and they have a special exhibit on his favorite thing ever! 

So he wanders in and applies. This part is actually upsetting. He has the knowledge. He wants to be a tour guide. He wants to smile and tell people everything he knows about Egypt. He knows so much that he can’t help but correct any mistakes he sees. Correct anything someone mispronounces. He’s awkward, he doesn’t have social cues. He’s a grown man with the energy of a child. 

He knows more about Egypt than any of the tour guides that sat through a five minute video course and was forced to memorize a script. THE MAN CAN READ HIEROGLYPHS. So why is he a gift shoppist? 

Is it because he talks too much and too fast when excited? Is it because he can’t stay on script because he has so much more to tell you than what was written out by some tired man that read a book once? Is it because he awkwardly sat in the interview, waved, and said “Hi! I’m Steven with a V. I saw you had a sign up about Egypt and I love Egypt I’ve been reading about it for years and I’ve been through your exhibit about ten times in the past week and let me tell you that the sign on the statue of Horus is absolutely wrong because while they are both birds it is actually Thoth, who is vastly different. I bet whoever made that mistake is going to be so red in the face, am I right?” 

And they keep him there in the gift shop. Any time they see him talking to the patrons they put him back behind the counter. They punish him for being over exuberant and being late with inventory duty late into the night. They can’t be asked to learn his name or listen to him when he tells them he doesn’t like nicknames. He isn’t normal and honestly they treat him like a child. 

When Steven starts to show signs of stress and causing problems, they punish him more. We all know at this point that Donna is a representation of continued abuse from his mother and Ammit and so on… But we all know a boss like her. A bully. One that has decided that you are an idiot and not worth their time. She doesn’t care about his dreams or desire for a better job position. She would put him in the broom closet if she could. To her, he is disgusting and wrong. He doesn’t act like everyone else. She just wants him to shut up and sell whatever crap they have to sell that day. 

So when the bathroom is trashed and they have the video of a man clearly in distress, they don’t know what to do with him. He’s called out as being mentally ill, which to them is a liability. What if he freaks out in front of guests? What if he breaks something important? He’s fired and given a pamphlet. “We aren’t going to help you get help, but read this and go find help.” 

Is this the place he needs to go? Do they know what kind of help he needs? Is he in crisis? If he were a man in crisis, handing him a pamphlet is not a great move. They don’t know what kind of help he needs! Does he need a very specific type of trauma therapist? Does he already have his own therapist or doctor? Who cares, give him a pamphlet to a place they heard about. At least they can be seen as compassionate and offering help, even if he doesn’t take it. 

At this point, the only person who Steven is comfortable talking to is a man that is akin to a mime. He can’t talk back and is a living statue. I think this says a lot about the state of how alone Steven is. So when Harrow calls him Broken, Steven knows he isn’t broken. His life is falling apart and he doesn’t understand why, but admits that maybe he needs a little help. Of course Harrow isn’t there to help him. Harrow is there to make him feel broken. To feel powerless. 

The way Harrow asks Steven if he can talk to Marc is like when a teacher talks down to you and asks what you did wrong, knowing you did wrong. Steven puts his foot down. Steven is not having it. There is nothing wrong with him and this is not the help he needs. Steven can see past it and has had enough being belittled and overlooked. 

It affects Marc, though. Marc hasn’t learned how to handle this sort of thing. Harrow is chipping away at him. For the first time ever, someone is acknowledging that there is something wrong with him, but instead of helping him, they are throwing it back in his face. Of course he’s broken. Of course he is mentally ill. He’s so broken and ill that no one can help him. He is just more of a disgrace. 

Harrow further chips away at Marc in the great pyramid. Calling out all of Marc’s insecurities that he witnessed when he looked at his scales. Of course Marc knows his own name. Marc knows about Steven. He probably helped set up Steven’s work history. But Harrow is taking Marc’s fear of being seen as broken, wrong, and mentally ill and throwing it back in his face. He’s using it against him. He’s telling these other powerful people that hold a place of power not to listen to Marc because he is sick. 

These are things Marc fears. Things that have probably happened to Marc at some point in his life. Perhaps things his own family threw at him. “Don’t talk like that, what will the neighbors think?” “Put on a long sleeve shirt to hide your scars.” “Smile for the picture. You don’t want people to think you aren’t friendly.” 

And we do see how it hurts him. Khonshu has used his body without permission. You can see how it hurts him after each scream. How draining it is. Not to mention this is a sensation Marc knows. To not have control of your body. To not feel yourself. To have to watch and listen as someone else uses you and you can do nothing. 

You can see the point where Marc is broken down after Khonshu is forced to release his hold on Marc. On his knees before people that now only see him as ‘unwell’. Before a man that knows his secrets and just how sick he views himself as. 

He once more asks for help and he is not only denied help, but he is dismissed. They don’t listen to him. If they had a pamphlet for ‘Sick Avatars’ they probably would have given it to him. It’s exactly what Steven went through in the Museum and while it made Steven angry and seek answers, this is where Marc has been before and he is too broken down and tired to fight it anymore. He knows where it has landed him before. 

If it weren’t for Steven, Harrow would have won right there. Marc was done fighting. 

So where does the story change? 

In the comics it still hasn’t changed. For so long Moon Knight was seen as the crazy hero. The one playing hero that no one took seriously. The Avengers called him a mad dog. They don’t trust him to carry out serious missions because he’s crazy and could go off at any moment. 

He’s been called schizophrenic, been tossed older terminology of Multiple Personality (even after the newer terminology was recognized and accepted in more common use), been shown as having made it all up in his head, of erasing his traumatic past and blaming it on being touched by a god and frying his brain, of saying his problems are an outside force that damaged him somehow. 

The hard part is that when we do get a good writer that puts Marc through his struggles and brings him the peace and understanding he has always been looking for, the next writer could undo it all so easily. 

Moon Knight has come to be defined by his mental illness. I think they are afraid that if they make him more at home with himself then they will lose the edge and he won’t be fascinating to read or write. That is why they keep redoing him. They didn’t know what to do with him and now all they do with him is try to define his illness. 

In Marc alone, we have depression, trauma, DID (heavy on the D), guilt, self spite, symptoms of having been gaslighted, PTSD, suicidal tendancies, and a man that is always on the edge of being in crisis. The beautiful part? So many of his readers can relate to some part of this. 

I’ve seen so many people be asked, “Hey, you have DID, what do you think of Moon Knight?” And they just start gushing. While it hasn’t always been a realistic representation, and not always a favorable one, this is a man that chooses to be a hero in all aspects and somehow figures out how to function. A man people love not despite his illnesses, but because of. 

There are some readers out there that go to him because he’s wild and ‘unhinged’ and has violent fights and kicks ass. There will always be that group. Yet there are so many that want to see how he handles being in real therapy. To see how he manages to still be a figure of importance in his neighborhood. To see him make friends and fight his inner demons as much as his enemy of the week. People that see his struggle as their own and want to see him crawl out of the sewer and be surrounded by his friends. 

We want to see him acknowledge that he is who he is. That he isn’t broken. That maybe he’s a little different but that he can still be who and what he chooses to be, and that is a hero. 

So back to the show. Where does that leave us? He isn’t asking for help anymore. No one listens. No one understands and while everyone is telling him how broken he is, no one is willing to help him get himself back together. 

I think this is where a lot of people see themselves. Rock bottom, desperate, giving up, broken, tired of asking before no one is listening or seeing them. So how does Marc get lifted up? 

In this case, Marc has built his own support system. Jake is there to force him to stop hurting himself and Steven is there to lift him back up. Even Layla who eventually realizes that despite Marc pushing her away, he really just needs her there. She literally flies in and saves him, then helps him back up. 

It doesn’t matter where your support system comes from, it’s something we all need. Outside forces or inside. 

I wish I wish I wish we had the Diab cut. We got to see him stand up to Khonshu, Ammit and Harrow… But to see him confront his mother… Something we all wish we could have. To find the person that has abused and tormented them and stand up and say “You were wrong. I am not broken. I am surviving and I am still here.” 

So again, where does that leave everything? We don’t know. These are problems that don’t go away overnight. The show ends on a note. Not an up note or a down note. Just a note. They are still back right where the show started. Tethered to a bed and unsure about the future. 

But on waking, the first thing Marc does is call out for reassurance. “Steven, are you there?” A man always on edge of crisis. This time he is asking for his life line, and his life line, while sleepy and unsure about his own future, will always be there to help him. 

They will still face rejection, people trying to tell them that they are wrong or not normal or broken. People that feel the need to bully them because they are different. They will still face prejudice and people not willing to understand. People who will think that they need help and proceed to offer the worst help one can find. 

Is any of that okay? No. Unfortunately it is realistic. But I think they are going to be more confident in themselves now. When one feels insecure or like maybe they are wrong, the other can help them push through. 

Society is not the best at offering help. Sometimes it’s going to miss big things and then pat itself on the back when it hands you a fucking pamphlet. The important thing is that we are our own heroes. Maybe we can be someone else’s hero. 

We’d rather save the world.

#Moon Knight #Moon Knight Meta #Oh no I started going and forgot how to stop #talks of abuse #Marc Spector #Steven Grant #Jake Lockley #It's been a week and this was my only escape #I slipped and fell in the deepend here #All I want to do is scream about Moon Knight #Seriously though #If you need help don't be Marc about it

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Reader - Brotherly Love Part 2/6

Okay, so the story is kinda sad 😔. But it's also funny I promise 😅.

Summary - The sequel to The Houseguest where Ruben and Reader have been dating long distance for a year. The two of them finally plans to spend a holiday together, but to Readers suprise and disappointment, Ruben brings her brother Bernardo with them.

Enjoy!

You went to bed alone but woke up to Ruben by your side. He and Bernardo played video games all night, leaving you to watch silly rom-coms on your laptop all night. But now you had him, Ruben, all to yourself.

You let your hand travel across his lean torso, your lips placing soft kisses upon his warm skin. Ruben grunted in response, stirrig the bed as he shifted sleeping positions. You smiled as you got on top of him, the newfound weight opening his eyes.

"Good morning." You grinned.

"What time is it?" He groaned.

You shrugged. "Early."

"I thought we were on holiday?" He chuckled.

"Yes, but we have a big day ahead of us. So rise and shine beautiful. "

You had a big plans for you and Ruben. First you wanted to take him sight seeing in the city, maybe then the two of you could enjoy some lunch before the concert tonight. You had bought two tickets in advance. It was going to be perfect.

Ruben, with his drowsy gaze, just seemed content to have you in bed with him again.

"Come here." He groaned, pulling you down to lay on your back. "I've missed you." He smiled.

"I've missed you too."

He leand down, capturing your lips with his own. It quickly deepend, turning into a lustful exchange between you two. Sooner than later Ruben's hand was deep in your pajama pants, pleasing your desire for him with his fingers.

You arched your back, moaning his name.

"Shhhh. You brother might hear us."

With those words your cloudy mind seemed to evaporate, forcing you to remember the horror of last night.

"What?"

Ruben noticed the change in you.

"You brought my brother to our trip."

Ruben rolled his eyes, his hand slipping out of your pants.

You sat up in bed as he fell back against the pillows.

"You brought Bernardo to our holiday. What were you thinking Ruben?"

"I told you, he asked me and I couldn't say no."

"Why not?"

Ruben shook his head. "Is it really that big of a deal. We can still enjoy our time together."

"Yes, with a thrid wheel."

"Come on Y/N. Bernardo can take care of himself, he just needed a place to stay for the summer break."

"You don't know my brother Ruben. He has a habit of ruining things."

You climbed out of bed, making your way over to the closet. You picked out your outfit of the day. A blue dress with white flowers on it. Ruben watched you get dressed, deviously biting his lip. He sighed. "I never meant to upset you Y/N. I just thought it would be nice for Bernardo to get out of Lisabon for the summer. You know him and his girlfriend broke up right?"

"Who, Lisa?"

"No, Nella."

"Nella?" You frowned. "I thought he was dating a girl named Lisa?"

"Before Nella there was Lisa and before Lisa there was Sophia. And don't forget about that Russian girl that he met here last year."

Your brothers history with women hadn't always been the best. You supposed that Ruben wanting Bernardo to forget about his bad luck with women was a nice thing for him to do.

"But I haven't seen you for so long." You muttered.

"I know." Ruben gathered the sheets and crawled to the edge of the bed. He reached for your arm, railing you in. "I promise you, nothing will get away of our holiday."

"Promise?"

Ruben turned you around, forcing you to look him in the eyes. They were a nice pair of eyes.

"I promise."

It was a big word, promise, especially once you realized how bad Bernardo was handling his break up. He had developed a childish needed to never be left alone, as well as a need to always be the center of attention.

"I want to see if I can find something for mom and dad at the market." You tugged Ruben's hand in this direction. The three of you had decided to spend the day in Portimaõ city, enjoying the sights. You were happy that the boys listened to your request, however, Bernardo still found a way to get on your nerves.

"Nah, let's go to a bar, I'm starving." He said.

Ruben looked conflicted, standing between the two of you. "Um...how about Bernardo and I get a table at the nearest bar. We'll text you where to go once you return from the market." He said, like the diplomat he was.

"What, no." You objected. You really wanted Ruben's help picking out the right gift for your parents anniversary that was coming up. Guess he didn't care enough about it to help you.

"Don't make that face Y/N." Bernardo sighed.

"What face? " You hissed.

"That lost puppy dog face that you always pulled when you wanted mom and to feel sorry for you."

"I did not!"

"You did too!"

"Hey, guys. Come on, let's not fight."

"She started it."

Ruben gestured for Bernardo to go ahead whilst he had a quick chat with you.

"I'm not going to a bar with him." You firmly stated.

Ruben nodded understandingly. "How about I'll meet you at the concert? Remember, it will only be you and me."

It was true, you had only bought two tickets and they were for you and Ruben.

"Fine." You pouted. Ruben took the opportunity to bend down and kiss you, the first one since this morning.

"Why don't you kiss me in front of Bernardo?" You asked, as the thought struck you.

"You know...." He mumbled. "...he's your brother and I'm his best friend...plus he just broke up with his girlfriend. I wouldn't want to do anything to upset him."

It never struck you until now how you and Ruben's relationship might make Bernardo feel. Ruben was his best friend after all. But it wasn't like Bernardo had been against your relationship. Your sister on the other hand...."

"But don't worry." Ruben said, pecking your lips once more. "I promise to pay you back tonight, after the concert."

"Promise?"

He brought your knuckles to his lips. People passing by smiled at the way Ruben kissed your hand, it was almost embarrassing.

"I promise." He said and left you to do your shopping.

The night came around. You and Ruben had a great time at the concert. However, you couldn't wait to get him home and all to yourself. Change of plans however, seeing as the driveway to the villa was packed with cars, making it impossible for you and Ruben to get through.

"What is this?" You asked, voice rising in disbelief. "Did you guys throw a party without telling me?"

Ruben shook his head, looking just as confused as you felt. "I didn't know anything about it," he replied. "I thought we were going straight home."

"Bernardo!"

Stepping into the house you shouted at the top if your lungs.

"Bernardo!"

"Maybe he's upstairs." Ruben said. But how could he even tell upstairs from downstairs. The whole villa had been turned upside down, a full blown party going on in every corner of the house, even the backyard was full of strangers diving in the pool.

"Who are these people?" You asked. Ruben held your hand, clearing the path ahead of you.

"I don't know, better ask your brother."

As the two of you made your way into the living room, you found Bernardo lying on the couch, passed out drunk. His shirt was stained with spilled drinks and his shoes were scattered across the floor. A group of strangers stood around him, laughing and talking over the music. Your anger boiled over. Luckily you weren't the only one.

"Get out!!!"

The music was cut off, with the crowds attention turning to the angry woman with the chord to the speakers in her hand. "Anita." You gasped, suprisgly happy to see your sister.

"Everybody out of my fucking house!"

She did not have to tell them twice. The crowd slowly scattered from the villa like ants running from a boot, leaving the house in ruins. You began picking up empty bottles and redistributing them to the guests to throw on their way out. Ruben helped by ushering people towards the door, politely but firmly asking them to leave. As the crowd finally dwindled, you noticed Bernardo stirring on the couch.

"Hey, sis," he slurred, trying to sit up. "What time is it?"

"Bernardo, what did you do?" You said, not really knowing what to feel. You were mostly disappointed. Just then Anita entered the room. "I told mom and dad not to trust you two idiots with the house. I mean look what these people have done to mom's favorite vase." She held up the piece, it was broken in two.

"Anita I swear, I didn't..."

"I don't want to hear it." She said. "Let's just clean up this mess before mom and dad gets here."

"Wait?" You frowned. "Mom and dad are coming?"

"Where else are they supposed to spend their anniversary?"

"Great, a family reunion." Bernardo groaned from where he lay on the couch.

"You have a fucking problem Bernie. I suggest you seak some fucking help." Both you and Anita regarded him in disgust. Ruben was the only one who seemed sympathetic to the situation. He helped Bernardo to his feet, escorting him to his room. They even laughed about it on their way there. You made the mental note to talk to him about it.

As the last of the guests left, you locked the doors behind them, collapsing onto the couch, exhausted.

"Don't think I'm not disappointed in you too." Anita said, joining you on the couch. She was kind enough to hand you a glass of water with her side of insults.

"What did I do?" You asked.

"How could you leave Bernardo alone in this house, you know that he is bound to do somthing like this."

"Excuse me, but since when was I elected to be Bernardo's babysitter. He's my big brother not the other way around"

"Please Y/N, we all said we would take our turn once he got out of rehab."

"What?" You frowned, now you were really lost. "Rehab, when did Bernardo go to rehab?"

"Um...about six months ago when he got suspended from his football team. He got out last month. He's been living with your boyfriend every since."

"Bernardo is living with Ruben?

"Why are you acting like it's your first time hearing any of this?"

"B...because it is." You stuttered. No one has told you anything, not even Ruben.

"Well, mom and dad were the once that told me. Apparently Bernardo has been struggling with alcohol. His doctors says he's showing signs of depression."

"Really?" A slight sense of guilt washed over you. But most importantly you wanted to know why Ruben hadn't told you any of this.

"Clearly rehab did nothing for him."

"What are you even doing here Anita?" Her astonishing ability to be cruel reminded you of why you two didn't speak that often.

"I'm here for mom and dad's anniversary of course. Thomas is driving them down here for the party were throwning them."

"Thomas is coming?" Thomas, as in your first love who is now in a steady relationship with your big sister.

"Yes. Thomas, his parents, cousin Giulia and her kids. Everyone is coming.

Great, you thought. Your hopes of spending a peaceful holiday with Ruben were officially over. Turns out it was over before he even got there.

#fanfiction #football imagine #ruben dias #man city #manchester city #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias imagine #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #football angst #bernardo silva

[miss-noo-na]

And Then There Were Three (Part 5)

Title: And Then There Were Three

Rating: Mature.

Warnings: Smut; rough sex, dirty talk (vulgar language this chapter), choking

Summary: After catching you with Jooheon, Changkyun becomes distant. You’re determined to find out if he’s as jealous as you think he is.

Note: See masterlist for parts 1-4!

Just as you were able to read the shifts in Jooheon’s moods, you could do the same with Changkyun, but he was less subtle about it.

There was a heat that radiated off of him when you came near, and not the kind you were used to. His tone was deep and curt when you spoke at work, though it wasn’t unusual to appear casual in your professional environment. But this was different. This read like anger.

You hadn’t had the chance to be alone with him since he walked in on you and Jooheon at the dorm. Their schedule was getting hectic again and they barely had the time to breathe, much less do anything else. 

“Do you think he’s avoiding me?” You asked Jooheon in a hushed tone as you stood at the back of the room, looking busy with accessories.

Jooheon shrugged, feigning ignorance, but when he glanced at his friend you could see his gears turning.

“If he was upset about it, I feel like he would tell us. He’s not exactly shy about his feelings.” Jooehon offered with a small, reassuring laugh. 

“Has he said anything to you?”

“Not really.”

You sighed, knowing you would have to bring it up to him eventually.

For now, you focused on your job, or at least tried to. Every day, you asked yourself if this was a mistake, if all the fun was worth the turmoil you might find yourself in if someone got too jealous. You didn’t understand why now, when he had never once expressed even a hint of it before. He made it apparent since day one that it was exclusively physical, and he didn’t even bat an eye at sharing you with his best friend and co-worker. If anyone should be okay with it, it would be him.

There was more to it than that, though. You couldn’t help but think back to what it felt like being alone with Jooheon, his care and precision, his tenderness and his words. He didn’t treat you like a thing to be discarded and it was becoming apparent that you were more than a physical fancy to him. 

He could hardly help himself sometimes. The way that Changkyun felt compelled to seduce and play with you, Jooheon often had to stop himself from being too affectionate. It was getting to the point that the others teased him about it, and that didn’t help your situation with Changkyun one bit.

The worst part was that you liked it. You blushed and felt the slightest hint of butterflies from time to time that you put a great deal of energy into squashing. Catching feelings was the last thing you needed, and you were convinced it was only because it had been so long since you felt something other than lust. Plus, there was this profound sense of guilt you had for it, like you were cheating on Changkyun somehow.

Just as you were formulating a plan for how to approach him, you received a message out of the blue. He would be alone tonight and he wanted you to come over. The abrupt and welcoming message threw you off-guard, but you happily accepted the invitation. 

When he invited you in, his cold demeanor hadn’t changed much, and you wondered what his intentions were. You were anxious, watching him put something on the TV and meander around the kitchen before coming to sit next to you. He was surprisingly relaxed,  but you could feel the invisible wall he put up, even if he didn’t realize it.

“Are we going to talk?” You asked after a few minutes of silence.

“About what?” He asked almost too quickly in response. His gaze was hard-set into you as he turned and you felt challenged. That’s when the fear started to dissipate and boil up into anger. You had nothing to be sorry for.

“You know, I don’t appreciate all this attitude you’ve been throwing at me lately.” You said sternly, and you could tell he didn’t anticipate push-back this early into the conversation.

“I’ve barely spoken to you.” He laughed, and there was something smug about it that only pushed you further. You remembered being in relationships in the past and just knowing that a fight was brewing, and this was exactly like that.

“You’ve been passive-aggressive for over a week now, will you just tell me what's wrong?” You sighed, already exasperated. You thought being in a physical relationship only meant that you could escape these kinds of conversations. Apparently not.

 He turned away and you could see his jaw tighten, like he was holding back.

“Is it about me and Jooheon?” You asked, knowing that was the only thing it could be.

He looked back again just as quickly, eyes narrowed. “Maybe it is, but what does it matter?”

Finally, something you could work with.

“You couldn’t just tell me you were jealous?”

He laughed, “Who said that?”

“Oh my God,” You rolled your eyes and reacted with your entire body. “This is exhausting, why are men such babies about everything? Just communicate like an adult, Jesus. Why are we even fighting? We’re not married, this is pointless.” You rambled, not even looking at him because you were lost in your own frustration. When you stopped, he was half-smiling at you.

“I like when you get all flustered.”

You blinked and closed your mouth, then scowled as the words sunk in. “What?”

“You’re right, there’s nothing to fight about. I got a little upset about it, so what?”

“Oh, so you’re admitting it now?”

He edged himself across the couch so he was closer to you. “Fine, you want the truth?”

“Preferably,” You nodded.

“It wasn’t anything as petty as jealousy, I don’t get jealous.”

You narrowed your eyes, unsure what to make of his response, but curious to let him continue.

“I felt something different, and I didn’t really know how to process it quite yet, so I took some time to myself to think about it.”

He reached up and ran a finger from underneath your chin across your jaw line, his eyelids hanging low. You felt your heart rate speed up and cursed yourself for it.

“And what was that?” You asked quietly.

“I felt, hmm,” He mused for a moment before grinning. “Possessive.”

You swallowed the sound that threatened to part from your lips. Instead meeting it was an inquisitive “Oh?”

“I don’t own you.” He clarified, then let his eyes drift down, “But I do, don’t I?”

It was all part of the game. Realistically, out in the waking world, you were two capable adults with independent minds and the freedom to feel and do as you pleased. But once the door closed and you were under him, you knew you would let him do almost anything. It was the dynamic you both agreed upon from the first night, letting go of your inhibitions and self-imposed restraints and letting him have the control. It was the thing you longed for, the thing that kept you coming back to him.

“I’m a rational person, so I knew I couldn’t just be upset with you over something so normal and something you have every right to do.” He explained, then his voice deepend as he leaned in closer, “But I also couldn’t help picturing all the ways I was going to make you mine again.”

That word, mine, echoed in your head. Someone else had also uttered it to you in a moment of passion recently, and it sent a shiver down your spine. You had two people who seemed to want you desperately, and while you knew logically this was dangerous, it also excited you.

“You put me through all this just to tell me something I already knew?” You asked, and he smiled. 

“Would an apology help?”

You thought about it for a moment before answering. “I think that’s fair.”

He took you swiftly by the wrist and stood up, tugging you along. You fumbled for a moment before you stood and let him lead you to his bedroom.

You barely had time to process what was happening, one minute arguing on the couch and now here he was sitting you down on the edge of the bed, leaning down and kissing you before he knelt on the floor in front of you.

“What are you doing?” You asked, his hands trailing up your bare calves, up to your knees where the bottom of your skirt stopped and rested over your thighs. He then gripped your legs and pulled them up off the ground, causing you to lose balance and fall back onto the bed with a squeak. He pushed your legs open and the skirt fell back, too, exposing what was underneath.

“I’m apologizing.”

The initial shock wore off and you felt your cheeks warm as he laid a hand over your clothed center and pressed, teasing you for a moment before slipping his fingers underneath and feeling between your folds.

“Hm, you’re already wet but I know you can do better than that.”

He gripped the fabric and pulled it hard, forcing your legs up and together to rid you of the garment. When you let them fall back on either side of him, he wasted no more time, pushing your thighs apart and ducking his head down to taste you.

A sharp moan left you without warning and your hands fell to his hair. It had been a long time since he’d done this, and you almost forgot what his tongue felt like bearing down on your clit, rolling over the flesh and sucking you into his mouth. Changkyun abandoned this stimulation to travel downward, and you gasped unexpectedly when his tongue forced its way inside you, hands pressing back on your thighs to get deeper. Your fingers gripped his locks tight as you arched back and almost couldn’t take it. 

He pulled back for a moment, mouth glistening as he observed you, a low satisfied hum emanating from his chest.

“Look at what I do to you, you’re a mess.”

You blushed and closed your eyes tightly, feeling both aroused and embarrassed, and could only moan in response.

“Turn around.”

His voice was gruff as he stood up, and you let your feet fall gently to the floor as you sat up and stared up at him in awe for a moment. He was undoing his belt, looking down at you as he licked your juices off his lips.

“You heard me.”

You quivered as you went to turn over, and as your knees hit the bed he was already yanking the skirt and the rest of your clothing off you. Suddenly you were naked, kneeling on your hands and knees and arching your hips up as you peered back over your shoulder. 

He had discarded his own clothing and took his hard cock into one hand, stepping forward and deliberately brushing it against your entrance. You mewled and pressed back, trying to let him enter you, but he resisted.

“Do you want it bad?” He asked with a smirk.

You thought about making a sarcastic remark, knowing he was enjoying playing this game with you, but instead you countered him the only way you knew would actually make a blow to him.

You reached back and pulled yourself open, biting your lower lip and giving him a wanton yet demure stare. “Yes, please.”

His eyes darkened and the smile fell away from his face, he let out a rough, low sound as he grabbed your hips and aligned his cock with you. 

“I know I’m not the only person who can turn you on,” He started before leaning forward, sinking his cock deep into you just as he grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled your head back so his lips came as close as they could to your ear, “But I’m the only person who can give it to you like this.”

With that, his hips snapped into a pounding rhythm, fucking you like only he could, hard but with intent, making you grip the sheets in your hands and your legs to tremble. This was the moment when you were his, when he made it clear you belonged to him, at least for right now, and you embraced it. You craved it.

The harder he fucked you the weaker you became, arms starting to wobble in an attempt to hold yourself up. His thrusts were unrelenting, like he had been storing up all his energy just for this moment. 

The hand that still held your hair dropped down to your shoulder and he stopped briefly to pull you up. You wavered, dazed and shaky as you fell back against his chest and his arms circled under yours. One came up to lock your throat in his hand, and the other forced itself between your thighs, slick with your arousal. You groaned and arched against him, not sure which one you liked better.

Then he started to move again, thrusting up into you steadily, burying his cock to the hilt before letting gravity pull him back out just to do it again. His fingertips found your clit and he rubbed circles around the wet, swollen flesh as his other hand tightened around your neck.

“All of this is mine,” Changkyun growled against your ear. “Your body, your pleasure, your cunt. I own this.”

He was always rough, always commanding and always made you feel like you were his, but this was different. Unlike his typical playful candor, he sounded serious. The passion and possessiveness was overwhelming, somehow equal parts terrifying and exhilarating and you didn’t even consider stopping. Instead, his consuming words rasped heavily into your ear were pushing you toward a toe-curling, full body orgasm you couldn’t stop even if you wanted to.

You felt so exposed like this, nothing to hold on to, so you reached back and dug your nails into his thighs as your pleasure mounted. 

“I can’t,” You near-sobbed, trying to tell him you couldn’t hold on anymore.”I’m-it’s too much.”

He knew, he could read your body like the back of his hand; your shallow breaths and clenching muscles, slurred words, all tell-tale signs that your end was near. 

“Don’t hold back,” He said through his teeth, “Give me what's mine. Come for me.”

You sucked in a lungful of air as your eyes slammed shut, body pulling taut, then released it all in a long moan, bowing into him, squirming in his arms as you pulsed around his cock and sank your nails deeper in his skin. As you rode the last wave, he released you, letting you fall forward onto the bed and grabbing onto your hips to pull you flush against his pelvic bone, spluttering moans against the back of your neck as he came deep inside you.

You couldn’t hold yourself up anymore, collapsing face first on the bed and wrapping your arms under your head, breathing hard and dripping sweat. Changkyun managed to hold himself over you, but rested his forehead between your shoulder blades and panted against your moist skin.

He finally pulled himself from you and fell heavy on the bed next to you, and you peered up from over your arm.

“Sorry,” He mumbled, eyes glassy as he stared up at the ceiling, trying to control his pounding heart.

“For what?” 

“I kind of got out of hand there,” He rolled his head toward you and forced an awkward laugh. 

“It’s okay,” You rolled over on your side facing him, cheeks tinged with pink. “I liked it.”

The humor eased from his features as he looked at you for a long moment. “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course.”

“I sort of lied earlier,”

“Oh?” You gave him a curious look, though you could guess what he was going to say.

“I may have actually been a little jealous. I was just trying to save face before.”

“I mean, the way you just fucked me made that abundantly clear.”

For the first time in all the times you had been with Changkyun, he blushed.

“I didn’t want to be petty about it, I don’t know what came over me.” He looked away. “It was fine when it was the three of us, it felt more like Jooheon was just an addition to something you and I already had. But when I saw just the two of you….” He trailed off with a sigh.

You couldn’t help but smile a little bit, it was nice to see him vulnerable for once. 

“How did it happen?” He asked suddenly, looking back at you with a sense of urgency, to your surprise.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean did you call him? Did he call you? I’m curious.” He said, trying to seem vaguely interested but you already knew it was more than that. You decided to humor him.

“I came over to talk to him. He had been acting distant, as you recall, and I wanted to know why.” You answered with a half shrug.

“Why was he distant?”

“Same reason you were. Feeling a little jealous and being too proud to just talk to me about it.” You smiled and he had a laugh at himself.

“This is going to sound weird, and probably selfish, but..” He faded out, waiting to continue. 

“But?” You encouraged.

“What does he have that I don’t? I mean, what does he do, that makes you want to be with him?”

You hadn’t expected that question, but it did seem natural now that he asked it. His ego was hurt, he was used to being the one who satisfied you, the one you came running to for your urges. 

“It’s...different with him. Not necessarily better, just different.” You tried to explain.

“Care to elaborate?” He asked, becoming visibly antsy to find out.

“I don’t know, he’s ...tender.” You struggled to find the words. “It’s not rough but it's passionate. And it’s not boring, but it's kind of soft and makes me feel precious.”

Changkyun’s face looked troubled as you spoke. “That makes sense.”

“Like I said, it’s not better. I like what you and I have, but sometimes I just want-”

“You want to feel loved.”

You blinked at him in surprise. The word love was troublesome to you. You had thought you were in love, once. It was foolish and naive and ended terribly, so you decided you would avoid those feelings if at all possible. But maybe he was right? Maybe you missed that feeling. But that didn’t mean you were in love, or that Jooheon-

“Jooheon is in love with you.” He spoke bluntly, cutting off your thoughts. Now your eyes widened even more and you spluttered out a laugh. “What? No…”

“He hasn’t told me or anything, but I can tell.”

You couldn’t believe that at all. Maybe he had a crush on you, but love?

“The problem is,” Changkyun reached out and pushed a stray piece of hair away from your eyes.

 “I think I might be, too.”

#monsta x #monsta x smut #lim changkyun #monsta x i.m #kpop fanfiction #kpop #monsta x scenarios #changkyun scenarios

[cloudsrust]

Death comes in all colors

And here I come one year late with a few of my deaths’ headcanons for the lm3 ghosts-... in short story form because of course I gotta go the extra step,, TW: death mention and description (duh), bones breaking / asphyxiation , choking, firearm’s wounds, freezing, aneurysm. Steward - “A back-breaking job.” His last task for the day was to deliver the luggage that had gotten shipped to the hotel to the rightful rooms, ready to be found by the guests arriving in the morning. It was late at night and the overfilled bell cart, tucked away in the establishment’s warehouse, had gotten stuck between a wall and few boxes. As he was pulling the unstable mess from the side, trying to free it, the cart inclined towards him. The worn out belts barely restraining the luggage to begin with. A sickening “snap” breaking the night's silence, as the buckle of one of the worn out belts freeed itself from its prong, mercilessly hitting him straight across the face, hands instinctively going to cover his newly acquired wound as everything around him fell apart. The heavy suitcases and boxes completely crushed him, splitting his spine and breaking his ribs. A shard of the latter penetrating one of his lungs, making it burst. Unable to call for help, he slowly died by asphyxiation, the weight of the luggage “mercifully” taking his last breath away before the internal blood loss could. He is keen to both anger and panic attacks because of how he was treated when alive, both of those feeling still stirring in his heart, unable to find rest. Chambrea - “Feeling your heart in your throat.” The butler of the mansion where Chambrea served as a maid fell in love with her. Many letters and flowers were found in her small room in the following mornings, sweet smiles and compliments filling her days. Even though that was the closest thing she could get to one of the romances in her adored love novels and as much as she desired an happily ever-after, now she needed that job more than a stereotypical love story. She kept refusing him over and over, apologetic smiles following offers to pay him back the money the flowers must've costed. The servant, however, just couldn't stand the thought of rejection. Just as a rope being pulled over and over, he snapped. The night the inhabitants of the manor were out for a private party, he killed her in retaliation, strangling her to death. The thought of “if I can't have her, no one will” only made sense until the time to dispose the body came, clarity coming back to him as he dragged her body across the dark street. He hadn't much time to regret his actions, as Chambrea took her vengeance scaring him off the same bridge he was trying to use to dispose of her corpse. Neither of the bodies were ever found. She still loves to read romantic and tragic novels but she doesn’t feel ready for an actual relationship anytime soon. Her heart stuck in her throat every time she talks with a man, remembering her last moments alive. Steward is trying to slowly help her move on, is the least he can do for a friend colleague. Kruller - “A shot in the dark.” He was a night guard in training at the Grand Mall of the city. It was supposed his first night alone in his side of the mall, a more experienced co-worker taking care of the other half. It seemed a calm night like usual, more tiring the stressful. It would've been so if a thief hadn't managed to avoid security during closing time, hiding in the vents. After an hour or so of undisturbed shoplifting, Kruller finally encountered the criminal during the patrol of his side. Taser gun ready to fire in his shivering hands, still inexperienced in field action, the cop still found the courage to stutter a “Freeze!”. That word sealing his fate. A round of bullets perforating his stomach and chest as the mysterious man turned around firing by instinct, shocked by the sudden threat coming from behind him. The thief fled the scene, leaving the mall cop bleeding to death. The other night guard, alerted by the shoots rushed to his position, calling the ambulance at the sight of the blood pooling and running along the floor tiles. But help didn't come in time, Kruller last words desperately trying to describe the criminal, in hope of justice. He has a serious fear of both realistic looking and real firearms and he still has trouble speaking up from time to time, the remembrance of his error still lingering in his mind. Chef Soulfflé - “Best served cold.” Left behind by his trusted staff to make the inventory of the remaining and the needed supplies for the night, Soulfflé was checking the state of the meat in the freeze chamber. A few misplaced cleaning supplies tragically slipped from their grip on the tiled wall, still humid from the cooking vapor, falling on the chamber’s door, slowly closing it. The spine chilling click of the automatic lock making the chef drop the pack of meat he was inspecting. A few minutes passing with him trying to desperately call for help, the leftover hours of his life passed making peace with himself, writing down his will on the ingredients checklist he had with him. His staff only found his body the next morning, various aliments scattered on the floor, the cardboard where they were stored laying on the frozen corpse as a last hope to produce enough warmt to survive the night. He overcooks the meat by mistake: unable to feel warmth, no matter the temperature, for him everything will always be and remain cold. Amadeus Wolfgeist - “A heartbreaking performance.” Entire days and sleepless nights dedicated to that night, the evening of his concert- just for an aneurysm to take his life before he could complete that cursed melody. Slowly feeling his body crumbling from the inside, responding to his will no more. Hands grasping at the piano keys like a stray dog does with a found bone, his hunger for glory, for redemption, pushing him to keep on going. His fingers suddenly stiff, the last note mocking him with its silence as his vision completely faded to black. Falling to the harsh floor of his reality as red curtains covered the stage, marking his demise. His mind is still plagued by that composition, cursed to always rehears it but to never complete it, his hand still phasing through that last note. It is always better to keep an ear out for such music, just to know when is better to not interact with him at all. ...and that’s all- y’all can surely  see how in the last two stories I was just rushing through eh,,  I do want to share the titles and “plots” that where planned for the other ghosts! (Yes, giving titles is usually my fave part ahah)

MacFrights - “A stab to your pride.” Killed by a spear during a jousting tournament. His saddle slipped at the worst moment, letting his opponent’s weapon into the eye hole of his helmet. (My MacFrights’ design as a deep scar on his right eye, a bit OOC I know-) Dr. Potter - “Quiet as a falling leaf.” Died of old age. Came back to take care of the garden of his beloved wife, passed away years before him and now resting in her garden’s greenhouse, now her mausoleum. She already passed on, but Potter can’t let go of the only thing that remains of her, keeping him tied to the mortal world. (I kinda wish to come back to this one, maybe write a bit about it- but it’s a quite slim chance) Morty - “Letting the credits roll." (TW: suicide mention) Commited suicide via sleeping pills. He was the best conductor of his times, always aiming for perfection in every shot. It was when he reached the top that he understood that he could never reach that perfect dream of his, and that all that he was left with were just golden trophies and broken relationships. He let his movie end in hope of a sequel. (Another OOC, I like the idea of him being the complete opposite of what he was in real life, some sort of desire for redeeming himself and truly enjoy his love for movies. I want to write about this one, I really want to expand on this- so I might have a stand alone fan-fic for this.) Ug - “Flesh and bone.” Died of starvation. Not much to say about him- he lived in tough times with scarce food. Clem - “Washing away your memories.” While he worked in the sewers, he drowned after some falling pipes hit his head, beating him unconscious. He suffers from memory loss, not remembering anything from his mortal life- except a deep love for ducks. (Headcanon of mine is that he worked at a farm with his mother and many siblings- he accept a job into the sewer system to help his family in a time of struggle of the farm.) Serpci - “Sacrifices must be made." Offered herself to be sacrificed to the gods, to help his reign during dark times. Lindsay, Nikky, Ginny - “Warming up the audience.” (TW: childrean’s death) One of their fire tricks malfuctioned, ending into an fire enveloping the room they were performing in. They died of suffocation, due to the thick smoke, before the flames could reach them. Lindsay, the older sister, protected her two siblings until the end. Capitain Hook - “Putting salt on a wound.” Eaten by the shark he was hunting for half his life. Fate played the cruel joke to turn him into his most hated enemy once he became a ghost. Johnny Deepend - “Hitting on you.” Hit his head on the side of the pool as he was attempting a complex dive, trying to hit on his crush. It wasn’t his most succesfull move- Phantasmagloria - “Shock! at the disco.” (Yes I’m P!ATD trash thank you for noticing lmao) She was electrocuted by her malfunctioning equipment.

#Luigi’s Mansion 3 #luigi's mansion 3 #Luigi's Mansion #lm3 #not gonna tag all the ghosts heck;; #headcanons #tw death mention #mystuff

[bucky-mothereffing-barnes]

I’m Delicate

3 days in a row? Well, how about that! This is a different type of piece I’ve ever written, I hope you guys enjoy it! <3

Warnings: Unprotected sex, swearing. Wrap it before you tap it. 18+ please!

WC: 1.1k

Pairing: Steve x Reader

Squeeze.

“Hey, baby.” Steve whispered in your ear as he kissed your shoulder and laid his hand on your hip.

“Mmm, yes?” You turned to look at him, settling on your side.

“I miss you.” He pulled you into him by your waist, sighing shakily.

“I’m right here, honey.” 

He tilted your chin up, his icy eyes piercing yours. You could see that his were watering slightly, even in the dim glow of the moon outside. Placing your hand on his chest, you felt his heart beating fast. 

“No, I miss you.” His eyes fluttered shut as he took a deep breath.

“Okay, baby.” 

You rolled over on top of him, leaning down and bringing his lips to yours slowly. There were nights where all Steve wanted was rough and playful sex. But, there were also these nights. Where he just needed to feel your skin against his, to help ground him. You were his everything, and he wanted to make sure that you were real. That his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. He needed you.

“I’m here, sweetheart. I promise.” You murmured into the kiss, running your fingers up his neck and to his cheek.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Steve’s mouth opened slightly to let you in, your tongue gliding across his bottom lip and into his mouth. Little sighs came from him as you explored him, his hands coming up to your sides. He savored your taste, and you loved it. He gave a gentle tug on your white tank top, signalling that he wanted it off. With a nod, you slipped it off and tossed it on the floor. He gazed at your chest before pulling you down to him, his bare chest meeting yours. He wanted, no needed, that skin to skin contact from you.

“I just want you with me.” Steve muttered into your soft hair.

“You have me, Stevie.”

Your lips moved to his neck, leaving feather light kisses on his skin before you gently sucked, leaving small purple dots. He wanted to remember that you were there in the morning. The small kisses continued down his body, your lips stopping at the waistband of his boxers. Nodding at you, you pulled his boxers down his legs and threw them aside. His cock was hard and thick, begging for you to take him into your mouth. You looked up at him before running your hot, wet tongue over his head and down his shaft. Steve let out a soft moan at your actions, his hands fisting the bedsheets. 

You wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, tenderly sucking as you wrapped your hand around him. He was long and you knew you shouldn’t take him all the way in your mouth so you chose to pleasure him with your hand as well. As your tongue swirled around his tip and your hand slowly began working him, small sighs exited Steve’s chest.

“Your mouth, baby, fuck.”

The praise from him made you blush and bob your head up and down faster. You needed to make him feel grounded, no matter how. And to be frank, this also helped you as well. Knowing he felt pleasure from you made your heartbeat quicken. He grabbed your hand, pulling you up to him and grazing his lips over yours.

“Please.” Steve pleaded.

“Okay, baby. Okay.”

You slid your pajama shorts and panties off, dropping them off the side of the bed. Steve’s hands found your hips and you climbed back onto his lap. The blue tint to his eyes had deepend while he ran his cock against your sensitive clit. The action made your leg muscles tighten and your body shiver. Steve gave you a bit of squeeze before you sank down onto his length.

“Ah, fuck.” You groaned, adjusting to his size.

It was at times like these, Steve gave you complete control of him. Not just his body, but his heart. His soul. He trusted you with every part of his being and he wanted to show you that. Your pussy fluttered around his cock as you began to rock against him.

“You’re so perfect, honey.” You whimpered, running your fingers through his hair.

“You squeeze me so tight, baby, fuck.” His arms wrapped around you completely, pulling you into him.

His cock pulsated inside you, dragging along your walls perfectly. 

“Please tell me this is for me, that you’re for me. Just me.” Steve pumped in and out of you slowly, his eyes closing.

“I’m all for you, sweetheart. No one else.” Your voice was gentle, reassuring. 

You didn’t want to be anyone else. You didn’t want anyone else’s arms around you. No one could be so warm. So inviting. So comforting. Steve is your home and you’re his. Your bodies fit together like the last two jigsaw pieces of a puzzle. Every I love you, every I miss you, every single thing he says is what you need. 

“You feel so fucking good, I love your body.” Steve’s fingers ran up your body, stopping at your lips.

A small smile spread across your face as you kissed every single one of his fingertips. It made Steve’s heart swell with love. He studied every part of your body, especially your face. The way you furrow your brow and the way your eyes roll back when you ride him. His large hands held you close while he pushed up into you, hitting right where you needed him.

“Steve, I’m…” You moaned loudly, pressing your lips to his.

“Come on, baby. Cum for me.” He whispered into your ear, rubbing your clit while you ground your hips into his.

The heat you were feeling spread throughout your body, making your legs shake and breath stop momentarily. With a loud cry of his name, your pussy contracted around him, sending a full body shiver down you. Steve’s body stiffened at your climax, reaching his as well. He had his arms wrapped around you, afraid that this was just a dream. That you were too perfect to be real.

Hot spurts of cum shot into your dripping wet pussy, forcing a whimper from your mouth. You fell on top of him, breathing heavily. Steve’s strong arms remained in place, around your frame. He refused to let you go, he couldn’t let you go. He wanted you to stay with him, against him, connected to him.

“I need you so much.” His voice was soft. It was soothing.

“I need you too.” You couldn’t help but sniffle at his confession. He could go from commanding to completely submissive in a split second. 

“Stay with me then.”

“Always, Steve. Always.”

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america #captain america x reader #avengers fanfiction #mavel imagine #avengers fan fiction #Bucky Barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #james buchanan bucky barnes #needy steve

[lm3-imagines]

Mod Fish’s Ghost Death Headcanons

Plus how they feel about talking about it to sorta keep on brand

Steward // Unsafe heavy lifting while tired. His poor back gave out, very painful. Now that he’s a ghost he doesn’t need to watch his posture anymore! He doesn’t mind telling you, he’s just a little embarrassed by how silly it is.

Chambrea // Murdered after she decided to steal from the wrong person. Her death turned into quite the murder mystery, she doesn’t mind to tell you about how it went and whodunnit.

Kruller // Shot in the crossfire of a robbery. They caught the thieves, but he ended up dying at the hospital later. He’s anxious to talk about it, even though it sounds like quite a heroic tale. He just tells you he was shot and doesn’t want to elaborate.

Chef Soulffle // I'm a little hesitant to say it was something fire related, as then I would figure he'd be scared of all the smoke in the kitchen! I'm leaning towards unsafe kitchen ethics/practices that somehow led to his death. The stains on his clothes and recklessness to not do anything about the smoke makes me think he's either a forgetful, clumsy, or terrible chef, and he probably doesn't know himself how exactly he died. He's mostly just angry about it.

Amadeus Wolfgeist // I’m no scientist but basically he had a stroke while yelling at someone in anger. Since then he’s hated the sound of his own voice, and my version of Amadeus doesn’t speak much (maybe is selective mute?) because of this. He won’t want to tell you about this at all, unless you push him to break down and do so. I don’t know why you would though because that’s mean :(

King MacFrights // Beheaded in battle over political affairs. He’s still torn up about this, he’ll lie and say he died in a courageous battle saving his kingdom or something. 

Dr. Potter // Died on the field, away in foreign lands on an expedition trying to find a rare flower. I’m very much inspired by this headcanon here about his death by snazzy-suit except I gave him a motive to be out. Potter will tell you about it, but he’ll need a moment afterwards to chill for a second.

Morty // Assassinated. By a petty and jealous rival/hater maybe? He’s more confused as to what he did wrong/why anyone would do such a thing than sad about it, so he doesn’t mind telling you. He was crying at first, but once he realized he could still direct and make movies as a ghost, he got over himself and is accepting of it now.

Ug // Died of sickness/disease. He doesn’t mind his death, and knew it was bound to happen anyway. Plus now he gets to be a cool epic t-rex!! He’d love to tell you about his time alive before he died too.

Clem // Slipped in the sewers, hit his head wrong and fell into the waters. He’ll laugh it off and make it into a joke, but really he’s still dispirited by his death. He misses being alive so much... he doesn’t show it but this man really needs a hug after telling you about his death.

Serpci // I’m no historian either... Man I don’t really know for her, I’ll say illness. She was put to rest with great respect, but she felt like her duties were never done. Anyways she’ll tell you about how she died, she kinda wishes she went out in a cooler more extravagant way however.

Triplets // Magic trick gone wrong. Specifically, one of them was on stage at the time, clearly in trouble. The other two jumped out to try and save her, but they all got caught up in it and suffered the same fate. They really don’t wanna talk about it. If they say anything, they’ll just say, “Something went wrong,” and leave it at that.

Captain Fishook // He was always a shark! A shark pirate to be exact! He died in epic fish pirate battle against enemy pirates. He took the enemy captain with him, he doesn’t know where the other captain ended up. Fishook will gladly tell you about his amazing heroic downfall.

Johnny Deepend // His leg got caught on some rocks while he was out swimming/diving. No one noticed until it was too late. He’s bothered by it still, but doesn’t mind telling you if you’re curious. 

DJ Phantasmagloria // Assaulted walking home after a show. Wasn’t pretty. She will not tell you about it at all no matter how much you inquire.

Hellen Gravely // I honestly... do not know for her. I have no clue. I would want to replay/rewatch some parts of the game to get more of a feel for her character n maybe think something up. Depending on how she died depends on how she’d feel about telling you. I feel like if she really trusts you she’ll tell.

#mod fish #not an imagine #lm3 #luigis mansion 3 #luigis mansion #death #tw death #death tw #lm3 steward #lm3 chambrea #lm3 kruller #lm3 chef soulfflé #lm3 soulffle #lm3 amadeus wolfgeist #lm3 king macfrights #lm3 dr. potter #lm3 morty #lm3 ug #lm3 clem #lm3 serpci #lm3 triplets #lm3 nikki lindsey and ginny #lm3 Captain Fishook #lm3 fishook #lm3 Johnny Deepend #lm3 dj phantasmagloria #lm3 hellen gravely

[raelly-writing]

The Ties that Binds Us

Thancred/fWol, post 5.3. Selfindulgent distraction writing that went from fluffy to smutty.

AO3 link.

---

The warm water felt far too hot against his skin. Thancred sighed and shifted about, trying to settle and relax. The past day seemed like such a blur, nevermind the last few weeks by themselves.

How quickly their stay in the First had come to an end.

Urianger had left the communal bath area just a few moments ago, cleaned and with his beard trimmed back into its usual, more presentable state. Thancred cast a sour look at the basket Tataru had given him, where, on top of a set of clean clothes, his shaving kit lay as he had requested it, then held out his hand in front of him. His dismayed expression deepend when he, as expected, saw his hand tremble. Seven Hells, the others did not seem to feel the same fatigue as he did.

The unpleasant memory of his recovery after Lahabrea bristled at the back of his mind - of unsteady hands, weak muscles and how even the simplest of labours had left him winded. Hopefully he would not have quite such a long journey to full recovery this time, especially when he had to readjust his body to wielding a gunblade once more. Sighing, he let his hand fall back into the water with a small splash.

The sound bounced off the stone walls. Without Urianger around, the silence that hung as thick as the steam in the air made it hard to keep his thoughts from wandering back to the events of the past few days.

Had he said all he needed to say to Ryne, there in Nabaath Araeng, in the shadow of the crystal wall? Doubt gnawed at him, certain that he’d forgotten something, left something unspoken, held back a last piece of advice before there was no longer any time left for them. Had he even made the right choice, returning instead of staying?

The what ifs kept twisting and turning in his head, even though he logically knew that there had most likely been no other option than returning. Ryne would not have let him, or any of them, take that risk. But still, there was that small insistent voice in his heart, that he had not known for sure, that if he had just tried he might have found a way to stay.

Sighing, he sank deeper into the water. That both the women he cared for would say that they wanted him to be happy - in whichever world it may have been. Could he fully be though? Thancred snorted and shook his head to himself. "What a fool you are, Waters…" he murmured.

Idle hands made for a busy mind. No, he had his duties to attend to now, just like Ryne had her own path to make. The rest of his family needed him and he still had people whose memories he wished to honour here, on the Source.

A small, mournful smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he imagined Minfilia gently but firmly telling him not to beat himself up so much. For once, thinking of her did not fill him with pitch dark sorrow and rage at the injustice of the world. The name he had once given her would live on in one world. But this world, the one a young girl named Ascilla had called home and fought for as a young woman, inspiring him and others around her to do the same, still remained unsafe.

Yes, master Louisoix had set him on this path, and he was determined to see it to the end in his mentor’s honour, to do what he wished he could have done by Minfilia’s side and uphold both their legacies. Despite how he felt like his heart was torn, one piece still safely tucked away with Ryne beyond the Rift, the path that lay before his feet did not feel wrong. And he was not walking it alone.

Gods, he just hoped Ryne was faring alright. Would Viana return to the First soon, to let her and Beq Lugg know how it all went? With how time flowed just a little bit quicker on the First, had they already spent a restless day - maybe even a night? - worrying that something had gone wrong? Thancred swallowed thickly around the unpleasant lump in his throat as he stared up into the roof.

“Thancred?”

The muffled voice was accompanied by a quiet knock to the door. Grateful for a distraction, Thancred looked towards it just as Viana cracked open the door to lean inside. Despite that her demeanour was happy and her body language relaxed, he saw the worry in her eyes, as if she still fully expected them all to drop back into a state of unconsciousness at any moment.

“Urianger said you wished to speak to me?”

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Had his dark mood been that obvious? Ah, Urianger knew him too well.

Water dripped from his hand as he raised it and held out towards her. “Join me?” he asked.

Viana smiled gently as she slipped inside, closing the door after herself. At some point she’d found the time to discard her armour, now dressed in just the simple short-sleeved shirt, pants and high boots she wore beneath it. “You alright?” she asked quietly as she slid her hand into his and sat down at the wide carved stone edge of the tub.

Spark and jolts danced over his skin at the skin-on-skin contact. Everything had felt so sensitive since he had woken up, like his body was overcompensating for the time his soul had been absent - or his senses had been muted in the First, and now everything just felt too sharp and in focus. “No major physical complications so far,” he replied. Not a lie, not entirely the truth.

The feeling of her fingers combing through his long hair, gently pressing against his scalp, brought a low, content hum from deep in his chest as his eyes momentarily fell shut. A fraction of the tensions in his body melted away with the slow caress - a welcome distraction from his dark thoughts.

“That’s good to hear,” Viana spoke in turn.

Thancred brushed his thumb over her knuckles and tilted his head back to rest against her thigh as he looked up at her. Amidst the flurry of activity after they had woken up, Krile and Coultenet fervently checking each and every one of them, and Viana quickly leaving to return with a weak and dazed G’raha from the tower, they had not had much time to speak, much less so in private like this. Though he would have sought her out sooner rather than later, he felt a potent tug of gratitude towards Urianger for sending her to him, allowing them a quiet moment together.

There was a curious if gentle look in her eyes as she slipped her other hand from his. Carefully, she brushed back his long bangs from his eyes, her fingertips tracing his brow as she did. Thancred thought she would ask about his eye, about the lack of scar that he’d supposedly covered up with his bandana for so long. Krile wasn’t even sure what had happened, why his eye had returned to as it had been before Y’shtola had sent them both into the Lifestream, but he did not find much reason to complain. Too bad his ability to channel aether had not had the same courtesy to return as well.

When Viana just let out a quiet, thoughtful hum while running a finger over his left cheekbone, he relaxed and let his eyes drift close, all too content to enjoy her light touch. If he thought he’d felt touch starved on the First, by Thaliak this was ten times more intense. With one hand, she kept combing his hair back from his hairline with her fingertips pressing against his scalp, a gesture he had already found pleasant and relaxing then. Meanwhile her other carefully traced his facial features - a finger running over the small scar he knew he had by his hairline from a mishap in his youth, one of many that had not manifested on his soul in the First, then continued dragging her finger down the bridge of his nose, over his cheek, his bottom lip.

“I saw that Urianger was quick to tame his once more,” she mused quietly as she scratched her nails through the beard that had grown to cover his jaw. “Almost looks like when we found you Dravania.”

Thancred hummed in acknowledgment. Despite the warm water, a shiver rolled down his spine when her fingertips continued down over the underside of his chin, following the whole extent of the stubble. “Will shave later,” he replied quietly. Blinking his eyes open, he looked up at her and gave her a crooked smile. “Got time to join me in here?”

Smiling, Viana nodded and slowly moved to stand up from the edge. “Happily.”

A sharp sense of loss followed the moment she took her hands off him. Gods, he wanted her close, now. Discreetly, Thancred rubbed his hand over his face, like it’d shake him from this needy state. The rustle of cloth and clink of metal buckles soon filled the air.

“How are the others faring?” he asked without turning to look at her.

“They all seem fine,” Viana replied. “Wager Krile will sleep for a day once she’s sure you’re all completely recovered. And it’s good to see Tataru happy again. She’s already sent word to Lyse that you’re all back.”

Thancred smiled and nodded slightly to himself. Those memories right prior to his collapse were still fresh in his mind, despite the years hence. Knowing Lyse she can’t have been happy about being unable to do anything to help them. “It’ll be good to see her again,” he replied. “And what about G’raha? Are his soul and memories all fine?”

“Yes, though he seemed a bit out of sorts from fatigue, he could remember everything up until he transferred the last of his memories atop the tower.” There was a brief, strained pause. “I can’t help but feel like it’s a small blessing he does not remember turning entirely into crystal.”

The memory of the crystalline body of the Exarch atop the tower flashed before Thancred’s mind. He’d had his fair share of complicated feelings towards the man during his two initial years in the First, before Urianger arrived and his ‘prophecy’ brought some purpose to their stay there. After all that had transpired, Thancred could not deny G’raha’s devotion to the task he had set before himself when he’d been awakened from the tower in that far flung future - a task now completed. Still, the thought of slowly turning into crystal made Thancred’s skin crawl. Suppressing a shudder, he hummed, “A small blessing indeed.”

While listening to the rustle of cloth behind him, he let his thoughts wander back to their struggles across Norvrandt, of their fight to defeat the Lightwardens. It wouldn’t surprise him one bit if G’raha did accept Alphinaud’s invitation for him to join the Scions. Not with the obvious admirations he held for Viana that seemed to border on infatuation - one more gallant leader who’d been taken in with her.

Instantly, a cruel voice reared its head in the back of Thancred’s mind, one that whispered of how undeserving he was of her affections. An unpleasant feeling settled in his stomach as he flexed his fingers in the water, his mouth suddenly dry as he stared into the swirling shapes of steam.

There were so many dark, ugly things in his past, low points and mistakes that she’d been a direct witness to. When would she realise that he was damaged goods, not worth the gentle patience she always seemed to treat him with? Or would it be the veiled comments about his past relationships, insinuations that his eye would wander sooner or later - spiteful remarks from past lovers aiming to make her doubt his commitment to her? He’d never been unfaithful, had always made sure any partner he took to bed knew he’d had no interest in something more than a night’s fun, but that did not mean he had not left more than one broken heart in his wake over the years.

Thancred swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat. It had been so easy to forget about that on the First, to find solace in his relative anonymity and blank past there. In that world, he’d just been the Exarch’s mysterious guest, another sin eater hunter, and then one of the Warriors of Darkness. Not a street urchin from a pirate port who had failed far too many people that he claimed to have cared about.

A hand on his shoulder stirred him from his ruminations. Viana stepped into the water beside him, but before she could settle down, the urge to have her closer made him wrap an arm around her.

“Come here,” he rasped out.

Without a word, she let him guide her to sit sideways between his legs. Pushing out his breath in a shuddering exhale, he wrapped his arms around her proper, pulling her flush against his body. As if sensing his urgency, Viana made a quiet, soothing sound and draped her arms over his shoulders, hugging him. Gods, she was so warm and solid to the touch, like all those times he’d felt her skin against his on the First had been with a thin layer of cloth between them.

Thancred pressed his face into the crook of her neck, in what was perhaps a juvenile attempt to hide from the doubts and heavy thoughts in his head. Instantly, her shoulders shook with a quiet laugh that made his heart flutter and his chest feel warm.

“Your beard tickles,” she whispered, but did not move.

“My apologies.” Slowly, he slid his hand up and down her back and side in a languid caress, focusing on just feeling her skin beneath his fingertips. Had he been able to feel the small, almost imperceptible bumps of her scars before? The beat of her heart when he held his hand flat against her back? He could not remember for sure. The scent of her filled his nose - the warm, vaguely spicy notes he remembered now sharp enough that he could pick out the notes of vanilla, nutmeg and cinnamon as they mingled with the floral bathing oils.

This was real. They were really back on the Source and he was really holding her in his arms for the first time - physically, not as a corporeal manifestation of aether.

After a moment, Viana stirred a little, and she felt her fingers skim over the back of his neck when she combed her fingers through his hair. “You alright?”

Thancred made a low noise of acknowledgment, “Am now.”

When she pressed her lips to his shoulder, he reluctantly loosened his grip on her so she could lean back enough to meet his gaze. Slowly, she blinked at him with a small smile, the look in her eyes gentle, like she too was thinking about how they’d never truly touched one another like this before. A smile of his own curved his lips. If only Althyk would grace him with his blessing, and let this moment last forever.

Suddenly, her smile faltered and she glanced away. “Perhaps it’s selfish of me,” she murmured somberly, “knowing how much you all left behind on the First, but I’m happy you and everyone else are back.”

Seeing her glum expression, Thancred’s heart broke a little. “We’re all glad to be back,” he replied firmly - it wasn’t a lie, despite the what-ifs that gnawed at him, he was happy to finally return to his own body and familiar faces. Viana nodded slowly, but her gaze remained downcast. Sighing, Thancred gently grasped her chin and urged her to look back at him. When she met his gaze again, green eyes wide with worry, he gave her a reassuring smile and leaned in to claim her lips for a slow, thorough kiss - the first one they’d shared on this world, he realised with a tightening of his heart.

It was short and sweet, her lips soft and pliant against his, the motions familiar to him. They parted to rest their foreheads together, breaths mingling in the small space between them. For a moment, they teetered, waiting to see if the other would speak, but then, like a fraying rope of restraint finally snapping, they crashed together once more. With a quiet, needy sound, she melted into the kiss and slid her wet fingers into his hair, tugging him closer. The itch to touch and explore urged his hands to wander over her, to reacquaint himself with her curves and memorize all the little new things he could sense.

One kiss melted into the next, and quickly grew more insistent and hungry. He could feel his blood quicken with her soft sighs and her hands sliding over his shoulders and neck, the beat of his heart thumping against his ribcage not just an illusion by his mind’s expectations of his soul’s corporeal form. It was strange how he suddenly felt truly alive for the first time in a long while.

A familiar yearning followed soon after, winding through his veins to settle hot and heavy low in his abdomen. He nipped at her bottom lip, drawing a ragged gasp from her as he dug his fingers into her thigh and waist, and tugged at her to move.

“Thancred...” she murmured in between their kisses, a warning tone to her voice even as she let him pull and guide her to straddle his lap instead.

“I want…” he whispered hotly, fingers grasping desperately at her wet skin. The warmth of the water seemed nearly cold compared to her and the searing need that was roaring to life within him. His cock stirred in between them, and with a firm tug he got her to settle properly in his lap. Her breath caught, and a staggered, reflexive roll of her hips sent jolts of pleasure up his spine. Groaning, he bucked up against her, encouraging her to keep grinding against him.

“Gods Thancred-!” Viana gasped, the silky heat of her sliding against his hard length.

Everything felt fuzzy and out of focus, his thoughts muddled and throat dry as sand. A blind need guided his hands - touching, caressing, squeezing whatever he could reach. He wanted more, wanted to feel her, to have that intimate connection with her for real - something to anchor him in this world, lest he’d lose all ties with his body and his soul would scatter to the void once more. With a low curse, Thancred pressed his lips to hers, hard and desperate. “Please.”

She pushed her body flush against his as she met his hungry kiss with equal fervor, her hands leaving trails of levin over his skin. They rocked together, sparks of pleasure stoking the desire, molten and searing hot that rushed through his veins.

With a gasp, Viana broke their kiss and jerked her head back a little. It was barely that he managed to bite back a whine of protest as he blinked his eyes open once more to lean after hear. A deep blush stained her cheeks, but the desire and yearning he saw in her dark eyes was mixed with hesitation and concern. “Krile s-said - ah - said you shouldn’t overexert yourself,” she rasped out.

Thancred made a soothing sound. Turning his head he scattered a trail of kisses along her neck and collarbones, nipping here and there, each time hearing how her breath caught. His voice was low and guttural as he responded, “I won’t.” Squeezing her rear he then skimmed one hand up her body to take a greedy handful of her breast. A moan instantly tumbled from her lips as she grasped onto his shoulder as if to steady herself. Thancred teased her flushed skin at her neck with his teeth as he flicked his thumb over her nipple, relishing in how she shivered with need. “Not if you’re on top, darling.”

Weakly, she whined and rocked her hips against his, seeking that same friction that made his cock throb with need. “Viana,” he whispered - pleaded - against the hollow of her throat, as if her mere name was a potent prayer. “I promise.” With how every fiber of his body felt sensitive and tingling, he was not even sure how long he’d last.

Viana dug her fingers into his shoulders while she seemed to have an internal struggle, torn between concern and the same aching desire that he felt. “Alright,” she finally breathed and skimmed one hand down his chest, her fingers light against his stomach.

A jolt of anticipation made Thancred’s heart skip more than a few beats. When she rose up on her knees, he quickly grasped her waist to keep her steady as she reached between them to wrap her hand around his hard length. Shuddering at the pleasure that curled up his spine, he flexed his fingers into her soft curves and barely managed to bite back a needy moan when he felt her line him up with her.

At the sound of his choked noise, Viana gave him a warm smile. There was a playful twinkle in her eyes, one that was all too familiar to him by now. Always attentive towards him, eager to see and learn what he liked and enjoyed the most. A fleeting thought passed through his mind, a half-formed yearning for all the nights that were yet to come when he could see that look in her eyes again.

The thought scattered as soon as it had come though. Slowly, she sank down on him, enveloping him in her slick heat. “Gods Viana,” he groaned. His fingers dug into her waist, the urge to thrust up or pull her down or both all at once, making his entire back tense, but he forced himself to remain still and let her take her time. Taking deep and even breaths, he just rubbed his thumbs over her skin as he felt himself momentarily lose himself to the pleasure curling up his spine. How long had it been since he’d lain with someone on the Source? Twelve, he couldn’t even remember. Much less care.

Finally, with a breathy moan, Viana took the last of him and settled her full weight onto his lap. Shuddering, Thancred blinked his eyes open - when had he closed them? - to look up at her.

A small, tender smile played on her lips as she peered back at him with hooded eyes. Instantly, his heart clenched with all the love and adoration he had yet to truly speak aloud to her. Smoothing his hands over her hips and thighs, he blinked up at her and mustered a charming smile. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his tone even and earnest.

It felt like his whole body was alight with pleasure, buzzing and simmering beneath his very skin. The wonderful sensation was only marred by the faint, bitter taste of regret on his tongue. Perhaps he should have waited for this until they were comfortable in bed, where he could see her properly.

The sound of Viana’s soft, breathy laughter distracted him. “Quite handsome yourself,” she whispered, her voice husky with desire. Her hands were wet to the touch when she brushed his hair away from his eyes, nails scratching through his beard before catching his mouth in a slow, searing hot kiss. It was nearly overwhelming how warm he felt surrounded by her and the water, safe and wanted. A pleased, rumbling noise rose from the back of his throat. Yes, this was what he had needed.

Slowly, she rolled her hips, her movements a bit uncertain. Delicious sparks of pleasure surged through his body, and he curved one arm around her waist, just holding her steady without dictating her movements. Let her set the pace, use him to find her pleasure. “You feel magnificent,” he mumbled against her lips.

Her fingers tangled in his hair as she began to move with more purpose, rising and falling, twisting her hips as she ground against him. “So do you,” she breathed. “So good, Thancred.”  

The pleasure quickly seeped into his mind, leaving it pleasantly fuzzy and void of any of the dark thoughts that had plagued him - there was just her, the wet slide of their skin, the taste and scent of her, their quiet moans and ragged breaths.

Hissing out a soft curse, she braced herself with one hand on his shoulder, her breath hot against his lips. “Th- Thancred, mhm-!”

It felt like his heart was fit to burst. Thancred squeezed her ass, his hips rolling to meet hers as best as he could while still making good on his promise to her to not violate his medical orders. Molten heat simmered beneath his skin, coiling in his abdomen. Panting, he scattered kisses down her neck and collarbones. “That’s good, sweetheart,” he rasped out. There was a desperate jerk of her hips as she clenched around his cock. Through the haze, he could sense that she was close. While murmuring his name, Viana arched her back, her fingers pressing into the back of his neck as she cradled him closer.

Heeding the direction, real or imagined on his part, he looped one arm around her waist and lowered his head with a groan. He could taste the salt on her skin as he mouthed kisses down over her chest, lingering over the faint scar that crossed from one shoulder to the opposite hip, like he could do what healing magic had failed to and make it fade by pouring his love into it.

Water splashed as he slid one hand up her body, fingers pressing into every single dip and curve until he cupped one full breast. Kneading it, he scattered a trail of kisses down towards its dusky peak. Blood rushed in his ears, his heart thumping violently against his ribs. He relished in this - feeling her body shift and twist beneath his hands, how the sole thing that mattered to him right then in the moment was coaxing her closer to that sweet oblivion. With a guttural moan, he closed his lips around her pebbled nipple, sucking and teasing the bud with his teeth.

Viana’s fingers tightened in his hair as her breath stuttered, the graze of her blunt nails against his scalp and nape of his neck sending pleasant tingles down his neck. Her chest was heaving with every breath, her pace growing erratic, the creeping sense of desperation as she chased after her end making her lose focus. “A-almost,” she murmured against the top of his head.

Thancred hummed in acknowledgment around her nipple and smiled to himself when she instantly hissed out a quiet curse at the sensation. A pressure was mounting at the small of his back, sending sparks of levin dancing up his spine, the tension winding out into his legs, signalling that he was not far off himself.

Dragging his tongue over her peak, he rested his chin against her chest and gave her breast one last squeeze before letting his hand skim back down over her body beneath the water. “I’ve got you, darling,” he rumbled, his voice low and rough with arousal. A low whine tumbled from her lips when his fingers found her clit and circled it, all while he murmured to her how good she felt, how much he enjoyed seeing and feeling her like this.

All about it was familiar and new all at once, sharper and in more focus, like the times they’d shared on the First might have just been very visceral dreams. Or maybe this was. He wasn’t sure, everything felt surreal and too real and tangible at the same time.

Viana grasped at his back and shoulder, desperately rocking against him. His cock throbbed, but he grit his teeth and instinctively turned his head up towards her. They met in a sloppy kiss, teeth clicking, their breaths mingling. That euphoric relief was so close, it felt like he could taste the sweet nectars on his tongue. All it took was a few more strokes of his fingers, and then he finally felt her reach her climax, his name falling from her lips with a broken moan as the ripples and waves of her pleasure made her clench around his cock.

There was nothing he could do to prevent himself from getting pulled over the edge with her into that blissful oblivion. The force of his climax slammed into him and swiftly carried his mind off to somewhere where all that he was aware of was the loose limbed weight of her in his arms.

Even as he slowly came to, his mind felt calm once more, no longer buzzing with intrusive thoughts and doubts. Viana had her arms loosely draped around his shoulders, her face tucked in towards the side of his neck. Much like him, she was still breathing hard, her exhales hot puffs of air against his damp skin. Humming quietly, Thancred pressed a kiss to her shoulder and leaned back against the edge of the bathtub with his arms around her waist.

“You alright?” he asked quietly.

“Mhm,” she responded.

Viana stirred and ghosted a few kisses over his Archon sigil, light brushes of her lips that left a tingling sensation behind. Turning his head, he met her for a languid kiss. “Thank you,” he whispered.

A crooked smile curled the corner of Viana’s mouth as she climbed off him. “I needed that too,” she murmured. Instantly, he missed her warmth and weight, but curved an arm around her waist when she instead curled up next to him, resting her head on his shoulder. Her other hand found his, and he laced his fingers with hers.

“Hey…” Her quiet voice made him turn his head, just in time for her to press another quick kiss to his mouth. “I love you.”

How she could say it so easily still took him by surprise, yet Thancred did not doubt her earnesty when she did. There was a weight to them, one he felt keenly right at the tip of his tongue, burning hot where he had let them linger too many times over the moons they’d been together.

A mere heartbeat seemed to stretch out into eons. Slowly, it was like something in his heart clicked back into place, and things felt just a little bit more clear. This, between them, had not changed. “I love you too,” he finally whispered, and the words felt so right in his mouth.

Viana’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, but then her expression softened as a bright smile spread on her lips.

Letting out a breath he had not realised he’d been holding, Thancred flashed her a quick smile before he closed the small space between them once more. She met him half-way, and his heart sang with contentment as he kissed her. Come what may, he would face it with her.

A sudden knock to the door cut through the mood that lingered over them as surely as a sharp blade cut through a cotton sheet. They froze, blinking at each other like they’d both startled awake from a dream as harsh reality came crashing down around them.

“Master Thancred? Are you alright in there?”

Coultenet. Thancred cleared his throat as Viana moved to stifle her sudden laughter against the crook of his neck. “Yes, Coultenet, I am still alive,” he called out, grateful that years of practise let him keep his voice even and neutral. “Just doing as Krile ordered me to and taking it easy.”

Smiling, he brushed his fingers through Viana’s hair as he kept one eye on the door. If they got caught like some lovestruck Studium students bored of their homework, he was certain they’d never live it down.

“My apologies, I shan’t disturb you then,” Coultenet responded, sounding genuinely apologetic. Good man.

“Thank you, I won’t be much longer.”

They waited for a few moments until they were certain they were alone once more.

“Perhaps we should wash up before someone else comes looking for you,” she chuckled.

Thancred raised an eyebrow at her, smirking. “My dear, I wager they’d sooner tear through this place searching for you rather than me.

Laughing, Viana brushed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I suppose. Hand me the soap and I’ll get your hair.”

“As the fair lady wishes.”

#Thancred Waters #thancred x wol #Thancred #my writing #look i don't know either #I'm just here trying to have fun #and distract myself from 2020

[sighmurderbot]

Irish Coffee Chapter One

Title: Mocha, Extra Sugar

Chapter Rating/Warnings: T for profanity, no other warnings

Word Count: 2.8K

Summary: They meet over coffee and Kierkegaard. There was a spark in his honey-brown eyes that drew her to him. There was a sadness behind her bright smile that drew him to her. Spencer Reid/Original Female Character. Slow burn coffee shop meet. Strangers to friends to lovers. This fic is also available on AO3, it’s ahead of tumblr currently!

next chapter

“A 'first meeting' is, by definition, a one-time opportunity, and there's no going back.”

Cup, counter, look up, smile, call out drink, next customer.

“One cafe latte!” 

I looked up with a bright smile even though my feet were aching in my non-slip shoes. Thankfully it was near the end of the afternoon rush, and I should be able to go on break after finishing with the last customer in line.

The businessman in front of me hadn’t stopped talking on his bluetooth the entire time he was here, which made it annoyingly difficult to take his order. Without looking, he grabbed at his coffee. His hand glanced off the cup and I watched it topple in slow motion. The lid flew off and hot coffee sprayed over the whole counter.

Both the businessman and I jumped back, avoiding the scalding liquid.

“Ah, shit — one second Dave,” the man scowled. “What the hell?”

I fixed a smile on my face.

“I’m so sorry about that, sir, let me make you another.”

“No, no,” he looked at his watch and his scowl deepened. “Forget about it. I won’t be coming back!”

Oh no, whatever will we do without your business, I thought sarcastically, maintaining a perfectly happy expression.

With that he turned and hurried out the door, jostling the man waiting behind him. I crouched to grab a towel and somewhere above me he said something, but the words blended with the music floating through the shop. 

“What did you say?” I asked as I looked up, hoping I’d be able to discern what he said. I couldn’t help but smile as my breath caught in my throat. The man standing at my counter must not have been too much older than me. His hair was long enough to brush past the nape of his neck but he had the soft brown curls tucked neatly behind his ears. He flicked his tongue over his bottom lip and gave me a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He wore a cardigan over a dress shirt and tie, and a brown crossbody bag gave his hands something to fiddle with.

“Ah, I just said he wasn’t having a very good day,” he said, blinking a few times as his eyes slipped over the counter. He seemed to notice everything at once, and I hoped he didn’t think anything of the way my gaze flicked to his lips as he spoke before I met his eyes again. He had a cute cupid’s bow, and as someone who sees a lot of lips I feel qualified in saying they were nice lips.

I used the counter to help me to my feet and began to mop up the coffee.

“Apparently not,” I said, taking care to not accidentally push any coffee towards the customer. “Sorry about that, what can I get you, sir?”

I paused and looked up while he spoke, leaning on my lip reading as the music muddied his voice. “A large mocha please,” he said, shifting a little as if he were nervous. “And could you stir some extra sugar into it while it’s hot? The, uh, the extra heat helps the sugar dissolve so there’s no little granules at the bottom.”

Huh, I didn’t know that.

“Sure thing, sugar,” I replied with a bright smile, happy to learn something new and relieved to have a pleasant customer after an hour of government drones rushing in and out as fast as possible. I turned and began the drink, glancing back as I waited for the milk to heat. The man had ducked his head, reading a slim book while he waited. His free finger ran down the page and he muttered to himself as he flipped page after page. 

He probably read a whole chapter in the time it took me to make his drink!

I couldn’t help but let my admiration show a little as I set said drink in front of him. 

“One mocha, extra sugar,” I said as he looked up. I leaned my elbows on the counter.

“Whatchya reading?”

He blinked a few times, glancing down at the book as if he had forgotten he was holding it. 

“Oh, uh, it’s Sygdommen til Døden, it’s a book of Christian existentialism by Søren Kierkegaard. It presents the question that death isn’t the end, and true death is spiritual, not physical,” he rattled off in an instant. I stumbled over a few of the foreign words, but I was able to put the sentence together with context.

The man stopped speaking just as quickly, a light pink spreading over his cheeks as he ducked his head. Leaning over the counter, I stole a peek at the pages he had been tearing through.

“Kierkegaard, in the original Danish too! Impressive,” I said, returning to my side of the counter. “Are you a philosophy student?”

He nodded, almost unsurely. “Yeah, I’m working on my BA now.”

I grinned at him. A fellow academic, I could appreciate a kindred spirit. 

“I haven’t made it to Kierkegaard yet,” I admitted, shrugging one shoulder. “Still working through Plato and Hegel.”

He seemed to perk up a little, eyes sparkling. “They’re good!” he exclaimed. “Hegel’s theory of dialectics strongly influenced the work of Karl Marx. Because Hegel claimed that reality should be examined by a series of logical and rational arguments, Marx created the theory we now know as historical materialism,” he caught himself and the pink on his cheeks deepend to red. “...sorry, I ramble sometimes. Are you a philosophy student as well...” he glanced at the nametag pinned to my apron, “Katie?”

I pursed my lips in what I hoped passed for a smile and not a pained grimace, avoiding his eyes to wipe a few stray drops of coffee away. This man’s gaze made me feel like he could see everything about me with just a glance, but it helped that his soft brown eyes held no malice that I could see. That and the fact that he seemed more nervous around me than anything.

“Nope!” I forced some cheerfulness into my voice. “Not yet, at least.”

He opened his mouth a little, as if he was about to reply, when his attention was suddenly drawn away. Shifting his book he pulled a phone out of his pocket, flipped it up, and answered.

“Reid,” he said. I turned the name around in my mind. I wondered how he spelled it, ei or ee. 

He pinned the phone between his shoulder and ear, stuffing Sygdommen til Døden into his bag and picking up his coffee.

Sorry he mouthed to me, and he did look apologetic. Hoping he knew not to worry about it I gave him a big smile and watched as he hurried out the door, returning the phone to his hand and striding off down the sidewalk. I let out a wistful sigh and grabbed a cleaning spray and paper towels to go over the counter again. If only everyone who came through this coffee shop’s doors was as interesting and pleasant as that Reid. 

And as easy on the eyes, I thought, biting my lip to hold back a girlish giggle. 

I glanced up at the clock on the wall opposite the counter. Just a few more hours until closing, then a quick bus ride to the diner. Everyone in the cafe was taken care of, so I gave myself a few minutes to get off my feet.

Pulling my phone out of my apron pocket I opened my bank account.

Starting to pull ahead, I thought with a tired relief. I wouldn’t be quitting any time soon, but my savings account was finally starting to look a little healthier. I closed out of the app and stared at my background.

It was a picture of my mother and I. I couldn’t have been older than 6 or 7, and I was wearing the biggest smile a little kid could manage. My mother was holding my hand, her smile matching mine. Behind us rose the stairs and columns of the National Gallery in London. I traced my mother’s face for a moment, then shut my phone off and slipped it back into my pocket.

The hands of the clock moved slowly for the rest of my shift. People drifted in and out, none staying longer than a few moments. The sun fell behind DC’s towering skyline, and as the sunlight disappeared it felt like my energy went with it. By the time the last customer waved goodbye and I wiped the last table down the room was swaying around me. I glanced at my watch.

Ten hours since breakfast, medication is beginning to wear off.

I slid out a seat and took a few deep breaths. My stomach wasn’t pleased but it settled after a minute off my feet. Once the room was steady again I stood and finished closing the shop. As the lock clicked into place behind me I felt a wave of exhaustion wash over me. It felt like being battered by ocean waves. 

My feet carried me to the street corner and I slumped against the sign indicating the bus stop. 

I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this, I thought, stifling a yawn. 

The bus pulled up and stopped with a screech of brakes that instantly had me clinging to the signpost in pain. The cold, dirty metal cutting into my hand had nothing on the high-pitched scream that bounced around my head, multiplying and hitting the inside of my skull harder and harder. Biting my tongue to stop from crying out, I pushed off the sign and stumbled onto the bus. Over the ringing in my ears I heard a muffled voice saying something. It was as if the voice was speaking to me underwater.

“I-I’m sorry…” I stuttered, forcing myself to breathe. Hands shaking, I fumbled through my bag and pulled out my wallet, finding my bus card. I shoved it in the direction of the driver, who only gave it a cursory glance and waved it away.

“--- --- --kay?”

I squeezed my eyes shut and took a few more deep breaths, the painful ringing dying down to an aching headache, and looked up at the driver. Somehow I had ended up slumped on the floor by the door. The old bus driver was leaning over me, concern etched in the deep wrinkles across his face.

“Sorry, I’m sorry, Connie,” I said, tripping over myself to apologize and get up off the filthy floor. 

“Hey, that’s alright Katie,” he replied kindly, offering me a hand which I gratefully accepted. “You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah.” I sighed deeply, brushing my hands off on my jeans. “It was-”

“The breaks, right?”

“Yup.” I popped my ‘p’, shaking my head sadly as I returned my bus card to my wallet. “Still figuring out how to manage it all.”

“You’ll get there,” he replied, setting a comforting hand on my shoulder. I gave him a weak smile and moved to a seat while he closed the door and released the breaks, pulling out into the road. There weren’t many people on the bus, all the commuters had gone home already in an attempt to beat the very traffic they created. The only people left in DC as stars began to blink to life in the sky were those who called the city home.

As the bus rumbled away around me I let myself slump into the seat, chin dropping to my chest and eyelids closing. Before I knew it I had slipped into a shallow sleep.

—

A gentle hand pushing my shoulder roused me and I started awake to see Connie’s face once again.

“Hey kiddo, you fell asleep,” he said. I stretched out my cramped muscles.

“Thanks for waking me up,” I replied. “I owe you.”

He shook his head with a smile.

“Just get me one of those coffees you make and we’ll be even.”

I nodded.

“You got it.”

Connie slid back into his seat and gave me a two-fingered salute, which I returned as I disembarked. Then the bus pulled away and left nothing but the crisp fall breeze, scented with exhaust and that peculiar smell every big city has. Adjusting the strap of my purse on my shoulder, I walked the half-block to a neon-rimmed 24/7 diner. 

A few moments later I stepped into the syrup-steeped diner. 

“Katie! Boy am I glad to see you.” A woman a bit older than me bustled out of the kitchen, arms loaded down with plates piled with pancakes.

“Right back atchya Liz!” I grinned, my exhaustion temporarily lessened at the appearance of a friend.

“Busy night?” I asked when we had both made it to the back room. 

“Very,” Liz exhaled, pushing a few strands of silky black hair away from her face. “It’s started to calm down a little now, mostly just regulars and some college students from the U.”

“That shouldn’t be too bad then,” I replied, slowly standing and stretching my arms above my head. “I’d better get out there.”

Liz shook her head with a smirk. “Girl, you work too hard.”

I gave her a tired grin. “Without labor, nothing prospers.”

She rolled her eyes goodnaturedly. 

“This another one of your old philosophy dudes?”

“Nah, this one’s an old playwright dude.”

“You and your old dudes, when are you gonna take interest in a guy from this century?”

My thoughts flickered to the cute guy from the coffee shop, with his beautiful curls and Danish Kierkegaard book, but it was my turn to shake my head.

“Why bother?” I joked. “Who’d take interest in me anyways? Not like I have time for anyone.”

“Without labor, nothing prospers,” Liz repeated back to me. 

I touched my nose and pointed to her.

“Damn right.”

“Alright, alright,” she conceded. “Let’s get our labor on.”

With Liz by my side the first hour of my shift passed quickly, but then ten o’clock came and she bid me goodbye, filtering out with the rest of the regulars. Before long it was just the college kids gathered at two tables in the back corner, heads bent over textbooks and notes. As long as I kept the coffee and snacks coming they were happy and quiet, which was fine by me.

Around 2 am one of the students came up to the counter, asking for more fruit.

“What’re you guys studying?” I asked as I handed over the pre-prepared fruit cup and accepted her cash.

“Architecture,” she replied, and her attempt at a smile looked almost as tired as I felt. 

“Keep at it,” I said, slipping another fruit cup to her with a wink. She nodded gratefully and returned to the tables, passing the extra fruit to the boy next to her.

Finally the clock ticked over to 3 am and my replacement arrived. There was little more I could do than give him a tired wave as I gathered my things and wrapped up in an old coat, preparing myself for the cold night. 

Thank goodness my apartment is only a few blocks away, I thought, taking a bracing lungful of air. It was a path I was familiar with after two years of walking it almost every night, and a good thing too, because I was half asleep on my feet. I don’t even remember most of the walk, dozing as I was, and by the time I got to my blue apartment door it was all I could do to get my key in the lock and inside. Locking the door behind me I let my purse slip to the floor and took the five steps to my bed, collapsing on top of the blankets. With my last ounce of energy I fished my hearing aid out of my ear, setting it carefully on my bedside table.

“I did it, mom,” I mumbled into my pillow, fingertips brushing the silver photo frame beside my hearing aid.

“Another day done.”

And with that, I slipped into a deep sleep.

Hours later my alarm rang. I woke up, never feeling rested enough but determined to keep putting one foot in front of the other. I felt grimy after falling asleep in my work clothes, so I treated myself to a long shower, luxuriating in the steam billowing up around me. After I scrubbed myself clean I spent a few extra minutes soaking in the hot water. My aching muscles relaxed a little and I felt a bit better when I stepped out and wrapped myself in a towel. After drying and dressing I slipped my hearing aid in and squared my shoulder, ready to face the day.

And so time went on. It was three days before I saw Reid again.

#Irish Coffee #my writing #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer #reid #dr reid #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid x oc

[5ivebyfive]

pride month challenge - day one - rainbow (catching up) trimberly - raindrops

Trini was in her bathroom combing out her wet hair when she heard excited shouts from her girlfriend downstairs. “Trini! Trini! Come look!”

“What?” Trini shouted back.

“Come here!”

Trini huffed and put her brush down. She was grumpy. She had been grumpy from the moment the first drop of rain fell on her forehead five minutes after Kim assured her that it wasn’t going to rain. Five minutes further into their walk and five minutes further from their house. She knew it was going to rain. She knew it! But no, she had let Kim convince her they had time to go around the block and get home before the storm started. And did it ever storm. Trini barely had time to wipe the first rain drop away before the skies opened and the downpour began. Trini spun her best glare on Kim, though they could barely see each other’s faces through the sheets of rain, and she saw Kim spinning around and laughing. She was laughing! Trini wasn’t amused. Mostly because of the fact that she had been right, and as usual Kim didn’t listen to her. It was the principle! She turned and started to run for home. She heard Kim at her heel shouting something, but she couldn’t make out what. As far as she was concerned it could wait until they were at home and dry.

They ran all the way home and burst through the front door, Trini muttering under her breath and Kim laughing. Trini nearly tripped trying to get her wet shoes off and she started to peel her other soaked clothes off. 

“Ooh yay!” Kim had said, innuendo in her tone. 

“Don’t get water everywhere!” Trini shouted, looking over her shoulder. “I’ll get to-Kim! We’re not having sex!” Kim was already down to her panties and bra and looked up in surprise. Trini held out a hand. “Wait there. I’ll get you a towel.”

“Who needs towels? Wet is more fun,” Kim said, stripping her bra off. She really seemed to think she could get Trini in the mood. Well, she was wrong.

Trini was in her own bra and panties as she went into the laundry room and pulled two towels from the dryer. She wrapped one around herself and brought the other out to Kim, throwing it to her. “Dry off then go put dry clothes on.” She bent and began picking up all their wet clothes.

“Someone’s grumpy,” Kim said as she went upstairs. Trini rolled her eyes and put all the wet clothes in the washing machine and found another towel to mop up the water off the floor. She went upstairs and walked into their bedroom and found, not only had Kim not gotten dressed, but she was completely naked and sprawled on their bed. “If you say no to me now it’s really going to kill my self-esteem.” And Trini watched Kim’s hands trail down her own body.

“I could...be convinced,” Trini said slowly. She dropped her towel and tugged off her bra and panties and left them on the carpet, even though she knew they’d leave a big wet spot, and she climbed onto the bed. “Under the covers though. I’m cold.”

They slipped under the blankets and went on to thoroughly warm each other up, a couple of times, and Trini was left to curl up in the bed and watch Kim cross the room and get dressed. She loved just watching Kim exist.

“How about we watch a movie then order dinner? That way you don’t have to cook?” Kim ran her fingers through her still wet hair.

“Okay. Go pick one out,” Trini said. She sat up and Kim walked over and bent to kiss her. And Trini smiled. Maybe she had gotten a little too mad. “Love you,” she whispered.

“Love you, too,” Kim grinned. “Meet me downstairs.” 

And Kim had gone downstairs, and Trini had gotten dressed and brushed her hair, and that brought everything back to Kim yelling at her to come downstairs. So Trini left the bathroom and her bedroom and went downstairs. She found Kim in the kitchen peering out the windows on the door that led to the backyard.

“What?” Trini asked.

“There’s a rainbow! Let’s go out!”

“We just got dry.”

Kim kept staring out the window. “It stopped raining. Come on.” She held a hand out for Trini’s and Trini took it.

“Lead the way,” she said with a sigh. Trini let Kim tug her out into the sunny but wet backyard, and they stopped. Kim pointed over the trees.

“See? Full rainbow.”

“Yeah, I see,” Trini said. She leaned into Kim’s side. “It’s beautiful.”

“Worth a kiss?”

“Definitely,” Trini nodded. She smiled when Kim leaned down and connected their lips. The kiss deepend, and she got lost in it. Her arms went around Kim’s neck and she leaned into her. Then it happened again. It began to pour. They parted and shrieked. “Kimberly Hart!” She screamed into the rain. “You!...are gonna eat mud!” She grabbed Kim and dragged her to a puddle of mud, Kim laughing and shrieking, and Kim fought Trini off and pushed her down into it. Trini fell with a thud and started to laugh then reached forward to yank Kim by the ankle. Kim crashed down into the puddle on top of Trini and grabbed a handful of mud and smashed it in Trini’s face. “You brat!” Trini screeched. She flung mud back at Kim and laughed when it got in her mouth. Kim spat the mud out and pushed Trini back into the puddle.

“Think that was funny, do you?” Kim challenged.

“Yes, very funny!” Trini shouted over the rain. She was soaked to her skin already and couldn’t tell the difference between what was rain and what was mud, so she didn’t struggle away from Kim. “This is all your fault! Again!”

“Mmm, take the blame for my hot girlfriend all soaked by rain? I can live with that,” Kim said, her face right above Trini’s.

Trini stared up at Kim’s face and the rain pouring down it, and she held Kim’s face in her muddy hand and tugged her down to kiss her. Kim’s kiss was warm and comforting there in the rain, and Trini didn’t want it to ever end.

That is, until she felt mud in her butt crack.

“Oh god, we have to go shower,” she whined.

“Together?” Kim asked.

“As long as it’s a shower, I don’t care,” Trini said.

“One more really good kiss?”

“Lay it on me, Princess.”

#trimberly #trimberly fic #my fics #pm2020challenge tag

[bohemiansweede]

Wide apart

Fanfic

Pairing Brian May Reader

Warnings smut 🔞

A/N Please like and reblog or if you want leave a comment

Thank You

The arena was filled with people

It was always a little nervous feeling cause you never knew what could happend

But as a nurse you were prepaired for everything

You had already arranged your things backstage and talked to some of the crew members, now it was just to wait

You were so into your work that you never reflected who the artist or group was

You heard a little music, most bass sounds and drums now and then a voice who sang.. actually really good

You tried to treat everyone equally but of course your dream should be to treat a really hot celebrity here 

You jumped when the door suddenly opened

A sequrity guard bounced in and a tall man was leaning on him

- Nurse Y/N I have a man here who needs your assistance

- Ok you can take the bench over there you said without even look at him

You did not even realize that the concert had finished

The man was on the bed in pain and you approached him

- Hi..Exuse me Sir.. How are you feeling?

- Fuck Fuck shit... Goddamn it hurts so fuckin bad

He held a grip around his thigh

He looked up at you and your heart almost stopped you recognized him now, his curly cloud of hair framed his face and even tho he was in pain his gentle hazel eyes watched you pleading

Focus focus

- What happend Mr May?

- Fuck, elderly men like me should not do certain things.. Of course my old joints know that I am not young anymore

He explained that during some of the solos he stands with his legs wide appart, he had done so for many many years but nowadays it felt like he cannot do it as wide as he think he can

You gaved hime painkillers and a glass of water, he scoffed

- Water?.. What I need now is a whiskey... He looked at you and took the glass, his fingertips touched yours and it felt like electricity

- Sir.. Mr May..

- Brian.. Please call me Brian

- Ok..... Brian.. Please lie down.. I need to give u a massage

Your head spun shit, this man was so handsome, in his mid 40s he had a black tanktop and black tight jeans  he was sweaty from being on stage but still smelled so good

OK proffessional.. You had to be proffessional now

- You have to... Ehhm...

- Pull my pants down.. I get it, his eyes widened and he saw your eyes wandered down on his body

You took the massage oil and warmed it in your palms

You saw his long legs still little tanned from the long summer

You felt your stomach buzz and it pooled in your underwear, shit this man was really something

He gasped for air when you touched his inner thigh

- Omg.. Sssorry.. Did it Hurt?.. Was it to cold?

Deep inside you knew why he reacted the way he did

- No.. No it is is ok shit  he almost studdered

You tried to keep your calm you with long stroke you massaged his leg up and down

His head fell back with a moan and he closed his eyes

All the sudden he took your hand and placed it on his hard leaking cock

Normally you would shove his hand away and be upset but you could no longer control yourself

Even thru his underwear you could feel how big he was, you took a firm grip around his length and looked at him squirming on the bench

He raised up on his elbows

- Ssorry.. Omg.. Shit... This is so embarrassing.. I'm so sorry

- For you or for m..

You could not finish what you were about to say, he grabbed your neck and crashed his lips to yours

You straddled him and deepend the kiss, he moaned in your mouth and pulled your hips closer

His cock were straining and leaking thru his underwear and you felt it throbbing up to your core

The kiss went sloppier and you bent down to continue your kiss trail down his neck and chest

- No... Ffuck it... I cannot hold myself any longer... Want you NOW!

He almost yelled

He pushed your underwear to the side and started to draw circles on your clit with his long fingers, he swifted motion and plunged in two fingers while his thumb continued the circles

You phanted in his neck

- Please... Oh oh please... Yes Brian.... YES

You were a wet mess and could hardly sit still you took his cock and pumped him a few times before you entered him inside you hard

You both screamed

You sat yourself in a fast pace and your breasts bounced in his face

He grabbed one of them and kissed it with a swirling tounge around your nipple slightly nibbling

You threw your head back and scratched his chest with your nails

He went back with his thumb on your clit and rubbed faster and faster while he thrusted inside you harder and harder

You felt your walls clenching around him and you were very close very very close

Just when you came with full force screaming his name he changed his grip and held your ass, with his both hands pushing so deep and hard inside you that your eyesight blurred

- Ahh christ ... Shit... Omg shit shit... I am coming... N.. Now!!!

He slipped out of you and you were fast to pump him until he spilled his cum over both his and your stomach

You landed on his heaving chest and he stroked your hair

- Well... This was certainly not planned.. Nurse Y/N.. I did not force you to anything did I?

- No Brian... I wanted it too..., But I think you need more massage.. I was not quite done

He smiled at you while you sat up and continued your work

Check out my masterlist aswell

Thank you

#Queen #queen 👑 #queen smut #Brian may #brian may smut #Black tanktop #Fanfic #Smut #Massage

[theartoftiinyideas]

the most extravagant insult ever

[oikawa tooru x fem!reader]

a/n: can you tell i’m thirsting for everything haikyuu yeah okay me neither phew

word count: 2.1k

summary: “are we going to kidnap oikawa tooru?” “no, we’re doing something much better” it’s time to avenge a fallen sister! bring the revenge!

——————

“Can somebody please tell me what the hell we’re doing here?” You asked mostly in annoyance, but alarm was quickly beginning to set in as your two friends proceeded to haul you into one of the school labs’ supply closet that was surely to be unoccupied during lunch break. When you were supposed to be eating. Which you were just rudely dragged away from.

“Explain. Now.” You demanded as soon as all of you had crammed into the too small space, the door closing behind you to envelope the three of you in darkness. Great, just great, where was the damned light switch?

Someone turned on the flashlight on their phone—Sumiko, who else, she was the dramatic one—and brought it under her chin as if she was about to tell a creepy story around the camp fire. “Welcome, chosen ones, for our first official briefing.” She deepend her voice on purpose.

You rolled your eyes so hard you were surprised you hadn’t caught a glimpse of your brain, Kaori—your other friend—snorting beside you. No words were needed between the two of you to silently agree that whatever Sumiko was scheming now, it was best to go along with it. At least until both of you figured out what the hell her intention was. Then you could stop her from causing disaster.

“The culprit,” she continued in that fake, deep mafia boss voice, fumbling with her phone for a bit before shoving the bright screen in your faces, “is this guy.”

You raised a brow at the picture, recognizing the person in it easily enough, but refusing to acknowledge you were about to do anything related to him.

Kaori blinked. “We’re going to kidnap Oikawa Tooru?”

“Please tell me that’s not the plan,” you groaned.

“What? No.” Sumiko’s tone returned to normal, coated in bewilderment. “There’s no time for your wild fantasies, Kaori. We’re in the middle of a serious discussion.”

“You guys can’t tell me I’m the only who finds him hot. He’s like a 12 out of 10; and that’s if I’m being mean.”

“She’s too far gone, Sumiko!” You exaggerated, placing a hand on your friend’s shoulder. “He has already beguiled her with his vicious charm! We must finish this mission without her!”

“How right you are, fellow comrade,” said Sumiko, going along with your little theatre performance. She took it one notch further and gripped your hands tightly, her eyes fierce. “We shall put a stop to this devil’s reign of terror and save hundreds of innocent girls. For her sake!”

You clamped down on your bubbling laughter. As much as you were enjoying it, this moment was way too perfect to be ruined by dropping out of character. Kaori heaved a sigh in mock surrender.

“Jesus christ, fine, let’s start an Oikawa hate club. Just spare me your horrendous acting skills.”

“Excuse you, our acting is flawless.” Sumiko feigned offence, and you could practically hear Kaori roll her eyes as she turned to you. “Why do you hate that guy so much anyway? He hasn’t done anything to you.”

You mulled over your words. “Hate is a very strong word. Hell, I don’t even dislike him, he’s just plain annoying with that flamboyant personality of his. 90% of the school adores him and it’s been going on for. Three. Years. People need to find a hobby other than wanting to marry him.”

Nobody immediately replied after your little speech, and you wondered if you’d been too harsh or had taken this once-totally-irrelevant thing too far, but you could see understanding flash in your friends’ eyes. All of you were familiar with The Great Volleyball Star, Master Ladies’ Man Oikawa Tooru, since you started high school the same year as him. Fine, he wasn’t exactly ugly, but he was just always there in the school hallways, being too nice, chatting people up left and right like he was everybody’s best friend. Girls wanted to date him; guys wanted to be him. He had every student and teacher under some kind of spell. It surprised you how terribly few thought his behavior to be... fake. Nobody was that goddamn cheery all the time.

“Well, I,” Sumiko interrupted your internal monologue, “absolutely despise him.” Beside the joking tone, her eyes carried enough anger for that inner ‘uh oh, home girl in trouble’ feeling to activate in your gut. Kaori seemed to noticed it too.

“Spill,” was Kaori’s only reply. We switched to pure business mode.

“It wasn’t me, if you’re wondering. I’m too smart for that. But Akane isn’t.” Oh god no. That’s Sumiko’s little sister. “Long story short, she wrote him a love letter.”

Silence. “...and? What was his answer?” You asked, unable to bare this weird, protective tension that had settled over the group.

Sumiko blew out a breath. “That’s the thing. It’s been six months. I found Akane crying last night.”

It was stupid. So so stupid. But you couldn’t stop yourself from scowling. That prick. He probably received thousands of letters each month, and chocolates and confessions and what not. You couldn’t really blame him. But—actively or not—Oikawa had made it personal, and a plan had already formed in your wicked little mind.

“Girls,” you spoke up, glancing at them both as a smirk rose to your lips. “That bitch is going down.”

—————

You paced impatiently before the huge double doors of the gym, waiting for the signal text from Sumiko and Kaori, who had already slipped inside at the beginning of volleyball practice. They were the spies of this operation, intently keeping watch until the boys were done for the day, so you could bust in and perform your solo act.

In all honesty, the windows were open and everyone inside was so goddamn loud with their shouting that you had a pretty clear idea what was happening inside, but you weren’t about to ruin all the careful planning and excitement. You went way overboard. Or maybe it would just seem lame and stupid. But for a guy that was just so extra, you deemed it a fit punishment. Loud, quick, and most importantly, extravagant.

You heard the sharp sound of a whistle being blown. “Alright! That’s it for today! Clean up and then get to your streches.” A murmur of agreements sounded, then chattering began.

“Iwa-chan! Let’s collect the balls together!”

Ugh. That was definitely him. You hoped Iwa-chan said no.

Your fingers itched to check your phone for the fifteenth time, but you knew you would hear a ping if a notification popped up. You were getting jittery, or giddy, or perhaps just nervous, but you were ready to act. You couldn’t wait to see the look on his pretty face.

Ping. You whipped out your phone faster than lightning. It’s go time, the text read. You didn’t hesitate. With all the might and drama stored in your very bones and soul, you let the double doors of the gym fly open as you crossed the threshold, stepping inside, chin up and hands on your hips.

Any sort of movement halted at your arrival. Boys in sweaty clothes regarded you in confusion, the cleaning forgotten. Oikawa had been standing backwards to you, talking to a guy who seemed ready to pounce on him before you entered. He turned around now with a ‘huh?’ escaping his lips, but when his eyes fell on you, he just smiled lazily, no hint of surprise gracing his features.

No doubt he thought you were just another fangirl. Perfect. From the corner of your eyes, you glimpsed both Sumiko and Kaori recording on their phones. You didn’t give Oikawa a chance to open his big, blabbering mouth as you brought your hands up to your lips, forming a makeshift megaphone to carry your words better as you shouted at the top of your lungs:

“OIKAWA TOORU SUCKS!”

The aftermath was everything you hoped for and better. Sumiko and Kaori started howling first, the rest of the team joining in immediately after with teasing and whooping as they all glanced at Oikawa, who stood frozen, jaw dropped and eyes wide open as he dramatically clutched at his heart, his hands forming into fists.

“Hey! That’s so mean!” He whined sharply, then turned his head to one of his cackling teammates. “Iwa-chan, stop laughing! That girl is insanely rude!” He made sure to point an accusing finger at you.

You were on fire, your grin practically feral. Sumiko and Kaori had already left, taking the back exit just as planned. Good. Now for the finishing touch.

“Hell yeah I am!” Your words echoed on the walls. “Not everybody likes you. Fucking deal with it. Good day!” And with that, you spun on your heel, slamming the doors behind you with a defiant boom. You didn’t stop running until you reached the school gates, where the girls were already waiting for you, beaming.

“Show me the goddamd video.”

i’m very tempted to make a part 2 uwu

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu drabble #haikyuu reader insert #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu #oikawa x reader #oikawa #oikawa imagine #haikyuu oikawa #oikawa oneshot #oikawa drabble #oikawa reader insert #oikawa headcanons #oikawa tooru #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa tooru imagine #oikawa tooru drabble #oikawa tooru oneshot #oikawa tooru reader insert #oikawa tooru headcanons #oikawa tōru #oikawa tōru x reader

[nova-network]

hello I just beat Luigi’s Mansion 3 and I have headcanons for all of the new boss ghosts

Steward:

He’s originally from New Donk City.

He used to be a taxi cab driver, and he died when he was driving home one night by himself and his headlights failed and he crashed into a tree.

He was one of Hellen Gravely’s very first employees, along with Chambrea!

He’s really nervous and kind of awkward when not on the job, but he works very hard.

He and Chambrea are really good friends and get coffee together after work.

Chambrea:

She’s a New Donker too, and used to work as a maid in a fancy hotel prior to, well, getting a job as a maid at a different fancy hotel after dying.

She died by slipping and falling down the stairs.

She is a really sweet and enthusiastic person when not under King Boo’s control, and really loves her job!

She’s a HUGE gossip, and loves to hear and tell everyone about the drama going on with employees and guests.

She and Steward knew each other back when they were alive.

Kruller:

He used to work in the Coconut Mall. Yes, that one, from Mario Kart. He was a mall cop.

He died during a robbery. He wasn’t attacked by the robber, he was chasing after the robber and knocked over a shelf and it fell on him.

He’s a HUGE fan of Morty’s movies. He can quote everything.

He likes to hang out in the cafe area at the shops with his Goob buddies.

Death hasn’t really changed him -- he was a cowardly goofball back when he was alive, too.

Chef Soulffle:

He was actually a TERRIBLE chef back when he was alive. He only learned how to cook after he became a ghost.

He died because he accidentally burned down his kitchen at home.

He used to be called Chef Souffle, but started calling himself Chef Soulffle after his death to be more “ghosty”.

He HATES mushrooms.

He doesn’t have a lot of friends, but he has a weird friendship with Clem, because he thinks Clem is the only other employee who truly appreciates his cooking.

Amadeus Wolfgeist:

He speaks with an exaggerated German accent.

He died of a heart attack.

Outside of King Boo’s influence, he’s actually rather pleasant to be around! But he’s also very intense and takes everything super seriously.

He’s not a full-time employee of the Last Resort, he’s just a famous ghost musician and composer who gets hired to perform there a lot.

He loves the artwork of Vincent Van Gore from the first Luigi’s Mansion game, and in turn, Vincent Van Gore is a big fan of his music! But they’ve never actually met in person.

King MacFrights:

He is not and was never a king. He’s just an old ghost warrior who got a job as a hotel mascot.

But he doesn’t really understand modern life, so he thinks he’s a king now.

He died in battle. Probably in a battle fought over something really stupid.

He sounds very, very Scottish, and when he’s angry, nobody else at the Last Resort can understand what in the world he’s saying.

The castle movie in Paranormal Productions is based on the battle where he died! But it’s extremely historically inaccurate, because the only source Morty has is King MacFrights himself, and MacFrights loves to make stuff up.

Dr. Potter:

He names all of his plants. Most of them have very silly names, like “Chompy” or “Pokey Pete”. Some of them have names that reference other Mario characters instead, like “Vivian”.

He died of old age.

He loves to play board games.

Even outside of King Boo’s influence, he’s kind of a jerk, and likes to mess with people and make fun of them.

He gets along really well with little kids, though.

Morty:

He’s from Diamond City, home of Wario!

He died when he was filming a movie on a skyscraper in the rain and he fell off the roof.

He’s just so wrapped up in his own little world of film direction that he has absolutely no idea what’s going on in the rest of the hotel and is totally immune to King Boo’s influence over ghosts.

He and Amadeus Wolfgeist are really good friends.

He makes all the commercials for the Last Resort.

Ug:

He’s not an employee. He’s not even a paying guest. He’s just here because Hellen Gravely bought the dinosaur skeleton he was haunting.

He is really, really dumb. Not in a “cavemen are stereotypically dumb” way, just that Ug, specifically, is a really dumb caveman.

He died because he tried to fight a T. Rex by himself and it ate him. That’s the one whose skeleton he’s haunting.

He’s originally from the Cascade Kingdom in Super Mario Odyssey.

He literally cannot tell the difference between Luigi and Gooigi. That’s why he keeps trying to eat Gooigi with the T. Rex skeleton in his boss battle.

Clem:

Even outside of King Boo’s Influence, Clem is really obnoxious and kind of mean. He’s just a total hick and doesn’t really know how to act in a place like the Last Resort.

The reason he’s such an asshole (normally) is because he’s really insecure about his intelligence. Clem is very smart, but he knows people probably think he’s stupid because he’s such a lazy hillbilly.

He died in a work accident, where he was electrocuted.

He loves to eat fancy food like what Chef Soulffle cooks, but he’s too lazy to go up and get some most of the time, so he mostly just eats junk food.

ALL of the rubber ducks in the hotel are his. He thinks it’s funny to leave them in weird places.

Serpci:

She’s not an employee, she’s a VIP guest!

She was a princess in the ancient Birabuto/Pyrapt Kingdom of what is now Sarasaland.

She died from being bitten by a venomous snake.

She likes to occasionally check up on modern Sarasaland, so she knows about Princess Daisy! But they’ve never met, and she has no idea about Daisy’s involvement with Luigi.

She actually has a rather silly personality. She loves practical jokes, weird puzzles, and trolling people in general. Her hotel room is right on top of what is almost certainly an escape room for ghosts, after all.

Nikki, Lindsey and Ginny:

Nikki is the ponytail one, Lindsey is the short pigtails one, and Ginny is the long pigtails one.

They died during a magic show, when they set up some special effects wrong and accidentally set off an explosion. They still finished the show -- as ghosts.

They love to play video games!

Like Amadeus Wolfgeist, they’re not full-time employees. Rather, they’re celebrity magicians, and the Last Resort hires them for magic show gigs.

They think Serpci is just THE COOLEST, and in turn, Serpci loves their magic shows and trickster style!

Captain Fishook:

He’s a VIP guest too, like Serpci.

That’s not, specifically, his pirate ship that he possesses during his boss battle -- it’s a pirate ship, but it’s technically just a special VIP seating area for the Spectral Catch seafood restaurant that has been styled as a pirate ship.

He died while fighting a rival pirate crew over some treasure, and one of them fired a harpoon into his eye.

He thinks King MacFrights is absolutely hilarious.

The Oozers from his boss battle are actually from his old pirate crew!

Johnny Deepend:

He’s not an employee, he’s a guest. But he’s not a special VIP guest. He’s just a normal guest who happens to be a really strong ghost.

His death was really stupid. He didn’t even drown. He wanted to swim some laps for his fitness routine, but the indoor pool near his house was closed for repairs. So he broke into the indoor pool in the middle of the night, but all the lights were off, and he accidentally did a big dive into the shallow end and hit his head and died.

He likes to go to the Museum of Unnatural History, because he thinks dinosaurs are WAY COOL.

Because of this, he’s friends with Ug. Neither one has any idea what the other is actually saying, though.

He didn’t actually figure out that Gooigi is weak to water until he squirted him. He just does that at everyone.

DJ Phantasmagloria:

She died during a wild outdoor concert. She set her speakers so loud that it caused the roof over the stage to collapse on her when she turned them up to full blast.

Her real name is just Gloria, Phantasmagloria is her stage name.

She likes Amadeus Wolfgeist’s music, but he doesn’t like her music.

In addition to being a mega-popular DJ, she’s also known among ghosts for being a really talented freestyle rapper!

She’s from Diamond City, like Morty, but she didn’t meet Morty until after they both became ghosts and got jobs at the Last Resort.

Hellen Gravely:

She’s also a New Donker! But she (and her original employees, Steward and Chambrea) never met Mario or Luigi while she was alive, because she died before they were even born.

She died of illness when she was old, which is why her true appearance looks the way it does.

Polterkitty is actually way older than she is, though.

She’s not exactly in love with King Boo. It’s more like that Hark! A Vagrant comic with Jules Verne and Edgar Allan Poe, with Hellen just being an obsessive loony fangirl.

She built the Last Resort on the site of an old mansion. It’s a Luigi’s Mansion game, after all, the mansion just isn’t actually there anymore.

BONUS!

Hammers are the ghosts of Thwomps.

#luigi's mansion #luigi's mansion 3 #headcanons #ghosts #nintendo

[writinginavacuum]

Wayfinder Farms - Ch. 1 - “Welcome Home”

Terra's life has always been a certain way. He's grown up with the same people, in the same place, living the same life. That is, until the buzz around town is all about a new farmer moving in to long-abandoned Wayfinder Farm.

Rating: T

Relationships: Terraqua

Read it on AO3

For Terra, life in Stardew Valley was always the same old thing every day. It was home, a place where he’d grown up throwing footballs in the spring and splashing with his brother, Ven, in the cerulean waters of the beach in the summer. He raked leaves for Mayor Eraqus in the fall and helped Miss Aerith take care of her animals in the winter. As far as Terra was concerned, that was just how his life was. Nothing really changed about their little town, not really. Not until recently.

The town had been abuzz about the new person for weeks before they’d arrived. A new farmer, everyone had said. The grandchild of the old man who had once cared for Wayfinder Farm, long enough ago that Terra could not remember him. He’d wondered what the new farmer would be like. Would he be friendly? He was coming from a big city after all; weren’t all those people supposed to be rude and fast-paced? Would he keep to himself, all alone on that lonely farm? Before he’d known it, the day had arrived. The whole town was awake with the dawn, milling about like a dozen tiny ants, all trying to pretend that they weren’t all hoping for a peek at the new person coming to infiltrate their tiny community.

It didn’t take long for the rumors to start floating back.

“The house is a right mess,” CIndy confided in him over the sound of her hammer striking her anvil. “Tifa went out with Mayor Eraqus to make sure the place was safe, y’know? Nobody’s been out there in years. She says there’s a hole in the ceiling and everything, the poor thing.” She paused to lift his axe for inspection, then nodded, satisfied, and handed it across to him. “I packed her up some tools and sent them out with the Mayor. Nothing fantastic, but they’re gonna be well used, I’m sure.”

“I hope they’re ready for the work,” Tifa said, offhandedly, as he helped her split logs later that morning. “There’s easily just a season of clearing land waiting for them here. The whole farm’s overrun.”

Terra grunted in reply, slamming his newly-repaired axe into the log in front of him. She put a new one in front of him.

“It’s gotta be hard, coming to a new place like this,” Tifa continued, replacing the log again. “For your first view to be a rundown shack…”

Terra wiped the sweat from his forehead and leaned against his axe, looking out toward the bus stop and, past that, Wayfinder Farm. “Is it that bad?”

Tifa nodded. “Worse.”

“Maybe I should stop by later. Offer some help clearing it out.”

Tifa smiled as she picked up a few split logs to carry back to storage. “Maybe you should. A little hospitality never hurt nobody.”

In Terra’s head, he imagined the new farmer would look a lot like his brother. Wiry, thin, a little too pale for life by the sea but happy anyway. Terra tried to imagine Ven clearing out an overrun field and almost choked on his beer.

“Somethin’ funny, Terra?” Cid asked over the bar. He was wiping out a glass- he always seemed to be wiping out glasses, even if it was well cleaned. Maybe he just liked to keep his hands busy. Terra had never asked.

“Nothing much,” Terra said. “Hey, have you heard anything about the new farmer?”

Cid grunted, but his polishing slowed a bit.

“That I did. In fact, she even came in to town a bit earlier. Somethin’ ‘bout introducing herself to everyone.”

Terra nodded before the full realization hit him. “Wait. She?”

Cid chucked. “Aye, ‘she.’ That a problem?”

Terra shook his head, but the new news made him wonder. She? What kind of woman would move away from her family, to the middle of nowhere, on the promise of a little farm?

Resolved to visit in the morning, he finished his beer, left some money on the counter for Cid, and headed out into the night toward home.

The next morning, he rolled out of bed with the sun, pulled on his muddy work boots, and slipped out of the house before Ven could even pry an eyelid open to ask him where he was going. He grabbed his tools- an axe, definitely, and his pickaxe in case there were any particularly stubborn stones- and started his walk toward Wayfinder Farm.

The farm was a couple miles from town, about a twenty minute walk if he kept a good pace the whole way. When he was younger, he used to jog the path to the farm and back, passing the old bus station both ways. But that had been when the busses ran, and that had been before the town had started to really rely on him as a handyman. Now his days were full of helping people out. He didn’t mind; in fact, he kind of liked the little glow in his chest when someone thanked him for going out of his way. It was why he was on this dirt path at- he checked his watch- 6:50 in the morning, heading out to a derelict farm whose owner might not even be awake yet. He liked helping.

As he rounded the last corner, he started to hear what sounded like the thuds of an axe, followed by muttering. He took it as a sign that the farm’s owner was indeed up and tackling the mess she had found in the field. It was atrocious, really. Weeds stretched up to Terra’s waist in places, with overgrown trees casting shade in places where there had clearly once been open fields full of crops. Here and there, huge rotting logs blocked paths between tree trunks. A few feet in, under the canopy of trees, he could just barely see the rustling of grass that he hoped was a person. Though it might’ve been a scarecrow, to be fair..

“Hello?” Terra called into the weeds. The figure screamed, whirling around to prove that no, they had not been a scarecrow. An axe came up between the two of them, and Terra wasn’t quite sure if he should laugh or panic. He settled for putting his hands up between them.

“Whoah there,” he said, taking a step back. “Sorry to startle you. I’m Terra. Terra Maduro. I’m from Pelican Town.”

The figure peeked out from behind her axe, abruptly dropping it as soon as he said his name. Her face was bright pink beneath a wide-brimmed straw hat wound with pale blue ribbon, though he wasn’t sure if that was from the sun or the embarrassment.

“S-sorry,” she said, leaning awkwardly on the handle of her axe. It sunk into the soft earth beneath her and she stumbled forward before catching herself against a log. Terra noticed, with a small smirk, that the redness of her cheeks was not from the sun, as it deepend once she righted herself.

“Sorry,” she said again, a little breathlessly, “I’m just a little jumpy. Not used to it being so…”

“Quiet?” Terra offered.

“Friendly.”

Terra laughed as he lowered his hands. “Nosey, I think you mean, but I’ll take it.”

Aqua removed her hat to wipe the sweat from her forehead as she laughed. “I was trying to be polite.”

Terra took a step forward, offering her hand out to her. “Then I guess I’ll be polite too. Terra Maduro.”

“You said that already,” Aqua said. Her handshake was firm, her hands soft. Not calloused from the work, or at least not yet.

“You’ve yet to give me yours, so I figured I would try again.”

Her eyes sparkled, the corners of her lips turned up as she released his hand. “Aqua. Aqua Maki.”

“Well then, Aqua Maki,” Terra said as he yanked her axe from the earth, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Same here.” Aqua took her axe back gratefully, shifting its wooden handle in her hands as she looked around her. “But if you don’t mind, I really should get back to work.”

Terra smiled, pulling his own axe out of his pack. “You didn’t think I’d come all the way out here just to be nosey, did you?”

Aqua looked surprised for a moment, staring at the axe in his hand, before shaking her head a little bit with a smile on her face. “To be fair, I don’t know you well enough to make that sort of judgement call, but if you want to be muscle out here, be my guest.” She pointed toward the door of the only building Terra could see. Tifa and Cindy had been right- if that was her house, it really was in poor shape. “I’m trying to clear the space in front of my house. Just enough to get a garden planted so I have something before the season ends, you know? There’s no way this’ll all be cleared in a day or two.”

It relieved Terra a bit to hear that she had some idea of the project’s scope. Honestly, he wasn’t sure if a season’s work could clear this whole farm. He couldn’t even see to the lake he knew rested somewhere in the middle of the property, let alone to the other side. He hefted his axe and smiled. “Got it.”

He spent the day working alongside her, felling trees and chopping them up for wood while she lugged the logs to the little overhang attached to her house. When he had no logs for her, she was on her knees digging up rocks or clearing weeds in big swatches with her scythe.

Of all the city people Terra had imagined taking over Wayfinder Farm, he hadn’t imagined Aqua. He had thought about Ven, naive and innocent but ultimately good at heart, or like Xehanort, the man pushing for Pelican Town to adopt the JojaMart lifestyle, trying to run Leon’s general store out of business. He has never stopped to think about someone like Aqua, someone who was somehow able to laugh and joke with him even while up to her elbows in dirt and rotting weeds. He found he was maybe happier that he hadn’t thought about it before.

When the sun was going down and it was becoming dangerous to swing an axe, she invited him inside. It was exactly as bleak as Terra imagined, complete with patchwork holes in the ceiling covered by tarp and tape, but the lantern inside was bright and the cooler at the foot of her bed was full.

“Sorry I don’t have much,” Aqua said as she tossed a can of lemonade at him. He cracked it open and savored the tartness of it for about half a second before chugging the rest of the can. Across the small room, Aqua did the same.

“You’ll get there,” Terra said. “It always takes a little time.”

Aqua nodded as she gazed around the space, looking thoughtful now.

“So,” Terra began after a few moments of silence, “what convinced you to move out to the middle of nowhere like this?”

Aqua shrugged, sitting on top of her cooler. Her fingers fiddled with the metal tab of her can. “I dunno, really. My grandfather left me this place when he died. Told me that… he knew I’d need it one day.”

Terra was at a loss for words for a moment before he finally found his voice. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Don’t be. He’s long passed.” Her eyes focused on the can in front of her. Terra cast around desperately for a new topic, something to bring the joviality back into the conversation. His eyes fell on the cooler Aqua was sitting on. “So are you subsisting on lemonade cans or is there food in there too?”

Aqua laughed a little. Terra suspected it was forced, but she seemed genuinely grateful to be moving on past the topic of her grandfather and didn’t push it.

“No, I’ve got some canned ravioli in there too.” She grinned when Terra looked horrified.

“Canned ravioli? God no. You should come down to the saloon tomorrow night. Cid makes one hell of a pizza.” Terra pushed away from the wall he had been leaning on. “For being a saloon and all.”

“We’ll see,” Aqua said, standing up as well. “It’s a bit of a hike for me, and I’ve got so much work to do out here…”

“C’mon, my treat. Let a guy show you some local hospitality, huh?” Was Terra laying it on a little thick? Maybe. But was it working? Well…

Aqua smiled. Even in the low light of her lantern, her blue eyes seemed to sparkle.

“Tell you what. You come out here tomorrow and help me clear some more junk out, and I’ll take you up on the offer. Sound good?” She held her hand out again. Terra took it, giving it a firm shake. He was glad the low light hid the blush on his cheeks.

“Miss Aqua, you’ve got yourself a deal.”

#terraqua #terra #aqua #fanfic #fanfiction #stardew valley #stardew valley au #terqua #terra/aqua #my writing #god this was supposed to be a oneshot #how did I accidentally write 2k words #goooooood #sailorscoutsaix #this is partially your fault lol

[theclaravoyant]

Petrichor ~ [Simmorse, Rated T]

AN ~ This is written for my @mcubingo​ square "Simmorse >> Rain", and for the Anon who helpfully gave me the idea for this square. I don’t know how it turned into 3000 words of fluff, but here we are. Enjoy!

ps - Petrichor means, the smell of dust after rain.

Relationships/Characters: Simmorse (Jemma Simmons x Bobbi Morse) Prompt: “Rain” for @mcubingo​ Rating: T Warnings: N/A Other Tags: Camping, Road Trip, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Early Relationship, First I Love Yous.

Summary:  It's her first weekend away alone with Bobbi, and Jemma has planned a romantic camping/hiking trip for the two of them. Unfortunately for her, the timing couldn't be worse. - There's a storm coming. Literally.

Read on AO3 (~2800wd) or below

Petrichor

Jemma had to admit, she’d had her doubts while driving out here, watching sad grey rainclouds weigh the forest down. It wasn’t that she hated the rain: she recognised its life-giving qualities and was the first in line to sing the praises of an evening of rest in a cozy space of one’s own, listening to nature’s beauty. There was much she loved about the rain. A weekend of camping outside and hiking in it, however – and that being her first weekend alone together with Bobbi, no less – now, that was where her hesitation lay.

Fortunately, all had gone well so far. The air still had a chilly bite to it, but tending to their campfire together, even rugged up as they were, was quite therapeutic, and it was not as though they were lacking in conversation topics, or other ideas with which two lovers might entertain themselves, when the occasional drizzle did drive them back into their tent. In fact, in this moment – breathing in all the fresh scents of the forest, the whole world shining with droplets in the peace between rains - Jemma would almost go so far as to call the weather a blessing. In what other circumstances would a place so beautiful be left so privately to them? How else would she and Bobbi have this trail, possibly even this entire mountainside, all to themselves? She couldn’t wait to see their destination – Passions Pool; no doubt a popular destination for honeymooners and the like – in all its uninterrupted glory. If a little mist of rain was the price she had to pay for the privilege, she would gladly do so. Which was good, because the rain was back again.

From up ahead of Jemma, Bobbi laughed.

“Next time I think we’re going to have to spring for gold label,” she remarked. “Get Coulson to let us come back in summer and have a proper swim, hm?”

“What?” Jemma teased, though the thought of swimming in this cold made her bones ache. “You think it’s too cold to swim? Pfft! You call yourself a spy!”

“Oh, I could swim in this if I wanted to,” Bobbi retorted, and stuck her chin up, bragging a little, “it’s just, the last time I swam in this weather, it was either that or cut off a toe. And believe me, I had to think about it.”

Jemma laughed, and rolled her eyes, but before she could think of the next thing to say, she found herself walking straight into Bobbi’s pack. She blustered to a halt, wondering why Bobbi had stopped; they couldn’t be there already, she was sure.

“Oh, shit,” Bobbi cursed.

“Come on,” Jemma waved her off. “I’m not going to make you swim. I brought a picnic. I even found that cranberry salad thing you-“

“No, babe,” Bobbi interrupted, pulling Jemma by the wrist up onto the track beside her, at the top of the hill. “I meant that.”

“Oh. Shit.”

The land fell away before them, covered in thick forest, near-pristine wilderness all around for miles. In the distance a bird was returning to its nest, and here and there, rocks or shining water broke up the blanket of green. It would have been positively breathtaking, if not for the turbid grey cloud looming over it all, sailing ever closer; like a shadow, inescapable. Beneath it, rain fell in a torrent so thick it seemed to consume the forest. It would scarcely stumble over doing the same to them.

“We need to get back to the tent,” Jemma admitted, though she screwed up her face and watched the storm in profound disappointment, briefly longing against all logic to simply will it into retreating, or at least pausing its onslaught for the rest of the afternoon.

“Look at the size of it, Jemma,” Bobbi pointed out. “I think we should get back to the car.”

“No, I…” Jemma trailed off. She had no argument to bring to bear; nothing but the dream of a perfect weekend, to which she’d been clinging all this while. Nature was a powerful force, and her plans were naught in the face of it. She sighed, and turned back the way she had come. Though the track was narrow, Bobbi kept up, and put a hand on her shoulder briefly.

“I’m sorry babe,” Bobbi offered. “I just don’t think this weekend was meant to be. We’ve still got some leave though, right? Why don’t we pack it up, head into town? I’m sure we could find a place.”

A place. Jemma tried to swallow her disappointment. It wasn’t supposed to be just a place, if all she’d wanted was a place they could have gone to a nice hotel in the nearest city to base, maybe bought a spa day, lived on room service. That sounded nice. But she had chosen this place, this trip specifically. She had wanted to get outside, really and truly outside. She had wanted to see the wildlife and the scenery in this place. She had been imagining herself and Bobbi walking amongst these glorious trees, admiring the birds, stargazing together in near-unpolluted skies; all manner of away-from-it-all fantasies for months. Literally, months. It had taken her that long to get the leave, with disaster after disaster being thrown at them, and she couldn’t bear the thought that a little rain was going to take it all away. Even if it was actually a lot of rain. But she couldn’t explain all that without sounding like a stroppy child, so instead she stammered -

“Just- Just don’t slip, okay?”

The rain was getting heavier around them, the storm already well on its way. The dream was dead. She gritted her teeth and pulled away from Bobbi, marching on ahead with the excuse of packing up their things before the worst of it hit.

“Jemma, wait!” Bobbi called, and jogged after her. “I didn’t mean we should just give up- I mean I did- but not… like that…”

Bobbi trailed off. The terrain was becoming increasingly treacherous and rain saturated her clothes, her pack, her hair. With the steep downward slope on top of it all, she had no choice but to focus on the slippery ground or risk falling, and with thick sheets of rain between them she wouldn’t have been surprised if Jemma had disappeared from sight by now anyway. Gritting her teeth, she picked her way slowly forward, thinking. She could imagine the frustration Jemma was dealing with at her plans finally being rained out beyond saving, but more than that, she couldn’t bear the thought of Jemma believing she was disappointed, or that she’d simply been waiting for an out. Was that the impression she’d just given? Or, perhaps, had she indicated she would have preferred to spend the time in a hotel, being pampered? Pampering was nice, but this – ancient redwoods, nature’s beauty, and a level of privacy Bobbi hadn’t experienced in years – this was unbeatable. Why was she so terrible at expressing things like that? Gritting her teeth, she pushed herself as fast as she dared, desperate to catch up and clarify things before they spiraled into disaster.

Perhaps a little too desperate, in fact, as Jemma had stopped and Bobbi hadn’t noticed until she was practically upon her. Startled, Jemma jumped, turned and slipped. She lost her footing on the side of the track and fell with a strangled yelp. Bobbi reached out to try and catch her, and that only made things worse as her heel slipped and her knee buckled and she fell too. For a few seconds, the two of them were a tangle of limbs in a miniature mudslide of their own making, but fortunately, even then, they only managed to fall a few feet down the slope before they tumbled apart and flattened themselves against the earth.

Feeling herself flung away from Bobbi, Jemma thrust her hands into the dirt. She looked up, struggling to see through the rain, and spitting water and loam as she climbed back up to Bobbi’s side. Bobbi was lying prone, hissing through her teeth, clearly in pain. Jemma’s heart plummeted.

“Bobbi?” she asked, almost shouting over the sound of the rain, and praying it was just the momentary shock of the fall that had shaken her, and not a serious head or back injury. “Are you alright? Did you hit your head?”

“It’s my knee,” Bobbi told her, fortunately able to sit up after a moment, if gingerly, and examine her own injury. “My bad knee. Must have twisted it or something. It’s not serious. We should keep moving. I’ll look at it when we get back.”

“Right, okay. Come on.”

It was slow going after that. The rain pounded down and evening deepend around them, but Jemma stayed by Bobbi’s side, limping slowly through the wilderness. She let Bobbi focus on nothing but moving forward, keeping her eyes on the light at the end of the tunnel; on all the things they would do when they got to that hotel in town. A warm bath. A nice hot burger with chips. Thick, warm dressing gowns. It was a long time before Bobbi realised Jemma wasn’t leading her back to the tent.

“Jems,” she objected. “This is a road. We’re out of the camp, what are you doing?”

“If our tent’s still around, we’ll find it tomorrow,” Jemma explained. “This is safer, better for your knee. Besides, there’s more likely to be a building of some sort this way, where we can get proper shelter and wait this thing out. You keep walking. I’ll scout ahead.”

Jemma gave Bobbi a brief kiss, and then disappeared into the rain and the darkening sky. This time, Bobbi was not stricken by a panicked need to follow. Instead, she caught herself smiling at the thought of how close the words I love you had come to spilling across her lips. She stood a little taller and walked on.

-

Soon enough, Jemma was running back down the road to Bobbi, announcing in a flurry that she had found a holiday inn not much further down the road and had already booked them in for the night. It was no five-star hotel, she qualified, but a compromise she hoped Bobbi could accept. More than that, of course, the news was music to Bobbi’s ears, which Bobbi went out of her way to impress upon Jemma. Yet darkness had well and truly fallen by the time they staggered into reception. As the innkeeper, Barry, asked his staff to fetch towels and discussed rooms and payment with Jemma, Bobbi looked around at the adorable woodland décor and still-lifes of canoes and decided she would like nothing more than to curl up and go to sleep on the warm, dry wooden floor. But she was determined to keep her guard up, for just a little longer.

“You ladies look a right mess, if you don’t mind me sayin’,” Barry remarked; somewhat incredulous and, if Bobbi was not mistaken, a little impressed. “You were up the mountain in this?”

“You know what they say about courage and stupidity,” Bobbi replied, easing herself into a seat and trying not to wince at the whole different kind of pain that flooded through her leg at the motion. Jemma was fussing over her, but Bobbi waved her away.

“What brings you out here this time of year, then?” Barry wondered. “Not exactly hiking season.”

“It was the only time we could get off work,” Jemma explained. “I just wanted to try something a little different, you know. I didn’t think it would be that bad. Thought it would be romantic."

She laughed at herself and rolled her eyes as she signed them in, and Barry huffed quietly to himself.

“Romantic? And you asked for the cheapest room?” He gave Jemma an exaggerated look of shock, plucked the key he’d given her out of her hand, and then eyed Bobbi as if she was in on the joke. “Where’d you catch this one? Tsk tsk. No, that won’t do at all, ladies. I have something much better for a romantic weekend away.”

He reached for a different set of keys, and a brochure. Jemma blanched.

“Oh, no, I’m afraid we really can’t pay-“ she promised, but Barry waved her off.

“No extra cost. Like I said, it’s not the season down here. We’re practically empty. You’ll still have to pay the amenities, of course – I’m not made of money – but we’ve got some wiggle room in regards to the accommodation. Plus, in your state, I think you’ll appreciate the, uh, private facilities. Come on with me.”

Barry led the way out of the reception cabin, and Jemma turned and pulled a face to Bobbi that said something along the lines of well, isn’t this fancy? With her knee burning, her clothes drenched and muddied, and her skin feeling like it was going to be cold to the touch forever, Bobbi was grateful for Jemma’s good humour. She pulled herself up and put one foot in front of the other, chasing that relentless warmth across the site.

“… windows to the west, sometimes you can see the deer grazing in the morning,” Barry was saying to Jemma as Bobbi finally approached their designated cabin. He smiled at her, and waved Bobbi over. “You alright with that knee there?”

“Yes, thanks. Just an old injury. Field hockey’s a violent sport.” Bobbi explained.

“Don’t I know it?” Barry chuckled, and finally handed over the key. “If you need anything, let me know – details are in that folder there. Otherwise, I’ll leave you ladies to get acquainted. Y’all have a good night.”

They thanked him and made their farewells, and then wasted no more time before pushing into the cabin. As they wandered in, the two of them stared about in awe, their energies momentarily replenished as all expectations were blown away. There was a cozy lounge with a large television and a log fire, and stacks of books and magazines. The kitchen was simple but adorable and Jemma hurried to turn the kettle on, and peek out the window overlooking what Barry had promised was a frequent deer grazing ground. Bobbi quickly found the bed and dropped herself onto it, hardly having the energy to spare a thought for the mud and muck she’d just walked in. She closed her eyes, relishing the way the soft, cushioned blanket cradled her aching body. A few moments later, Jemma stuck her head in through the bedroom door, and smiled at Bobbi’s spread-eagle state.

“You saving room for me on there or what?”

Bobbi huffed, frankly reluctant to lift any of her limbs ever again. She was still hungry, dirty, and cold, but she’d live with that if she had to. Jemma sat down on the bed anyway, and pulled off each of her shoes with a huff and a moan of relief.

“Hey,” she wondered, peering at the one door in the place they had not investigated yet. “What do you think he meant by ‘private facilities’?”

Bobbi stared at the ceiling, not willing to commit to lifting her head to follow Jemma’s gaze. “I don’t know.”

Unable to resist this final curiosity, Jemma padded over to the door and slowly pushed it open. On the other side was a rustic but luxurious bathroom. This being the lover’s cabin, it had some special extras in amongst the usual amenities, which made Jemma smile, but her eye was quickly taken by the feature of the room: an enormous, deep, positively luxurious standalone bathtub. She ran to it, knelt by it and ran the tap, and the hot water seared against her rain-soaked skin. The stress that had been piling up inside her all day bubbled out in another laugh, and she ran her hands under the water until they started to feel normal again.

“Bobbi, get in here!” she cried.

“Why?” Bobbi called back. “Unless it’s a hot dinner or a hot shower I really don’t –“

Jemma stepped back into the bedroom and threw another towel at Bobbi. She showed off her heat-reddened hands and watched Bobbi’s jaw drop.

“I can do you one better on the shower,” Jemma promised. “As for the dinner, I don’t know about hot, but I do still have the picnic stuff and I’m sure most of it will have survived.”

“That sounds fantastic.”

“How would you feel about eating cranberry salad in the tub?”

“Amazing,” Bobbi groaned. “God, I love you.”

Jemma grinned as Bobbi hauled herself to her feet one final time, swanned across the room with more grace than anyone with such an injury flare had any right to, and gave her a rakish smile and a dizzying, muddy, rain-tinted kiss.

“I love you too,” she said.

#mcubingo #simmorse #simmorsefic #jemmasolo #aosfemslash #aosficnet #clara's fic tag #prompt me stuff #agents of shield

[goodproofingwater]

Wildfire Records: Breaking America - Chapter Fifteen

#Wildfire records #Lauren writes #I was going to wait but I CANT

[princelesbian]

Sidlink Fic: Connecting Chapter 4

Ao3

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5

    “Don’t you think this is all a bit… unnecessary?” Revali crossed his wings across his chest, eyes trained on the Hylian Champion who stood away close to the pillars in a one-sided conversation with Daruk. The Hylian Princess shifted on her feet next to the Rito Champion, both facing the other pair. Zelda tugged at the sleeves of her royal garb nervously, staring ahead with an expression nearly blank.

    “Daruk believes this ceremony and grandeur will be good for us, to make a bond of sorts. I have only known Link for a short time, but I know that there is no bond this ceremony will create.” She spoke softly, as to not be heard by the other Champions. Her expression had not wavered, though the tone of her voice relayed the emotion more than adequately.

    “He is skilled in swordplay for sure, but the rest of us Champions, me especially, we are all the best of what are tribes have to offer. We have abilities he could hardly begin to comprehend, what makes him better than any of us? The rusty sword on his back? Please.” The Rito Champion scoffed, his head to the side.

    “He is required to defeat Ganon, as the chosen hero.” The Princess said as if she were reading directly from a script, her voice flat and emotionless. Revali snorted, and turned to look at her. Her posture was straight with hands folded delicately at her front, the picture of regality. She looked miserable.

    “Oh, please. You know as well as I do that you don’t want him here. And to think, the princess of prophecy not even given a choice in the matter.” He shook his head in faux sympathy. “Of course if given the chance, I could triumph him in battle. What does he have that I do not? A hero complex perhaps?” He nudged the princess. She smiled, chuckling lightly.

    “Revali, I am not so sure that you do not have one yourself.” She laughed, earning a light frown from the Rito Champion. “But I have noticed that about him. In fact I have lost him on multiple occasions because he was collecting hot-footed frogs for a farmer or something of the like.” She continued, light smile present.

    “Ah! Maybe it’s not so much a hero complex as much as him being extremely distractible then! I fear our chances with a ‘Hero’ like him are dwindling, as he might need to put off defeating Ganon to rescue a cucco!” Revali laughed, attempting to stifle the noise with a wing.

    “I do not believe he even realizes what he is doing half of the time. I swear he does this without thinking first.” Zelda watched the knight as Daruk crushed him with the weight of his palm.

    “I have a hard time imagining him thinking at all.”

    “I fear he will get himself into unnecessary trouble someday, and drag me down with him.” Zelda shook her head, and turned to face Revali.

    “He’s your hero.” Revali said, mimicking a swoon. The Princess grimaced. “And look! It’s nearly time to anoint him as such. Have fun, Princess!” The Rito Champion grinned, pushing her forward.

    ~*~*~

    Zelda’s heeled boots clicked softly on the floor as she paced back and forth down the main hall. Her features were drawn in deep thought, and she chewed her bottom lip slightly. Impa sighed, long and drawn from where she sat.

    “Princess.” Impa said. “At this rate you will burn footprints into my nice wooden floors.”

    Zelda paused, frowning at the woman. Impa smiled, patting the seat next to her. The Princess gave a long sigh wandering over with a look of defiance and lowered herself next to Impa. She remained silent for a moment.

    “Impa, I have found the documents to defeat the need of a marriage, but I cannot be happy about such a thing until Link has returned. It has been over a week. That is more than enough time to have delivered a letter and returned.” Zelda threw her hands out in exasperation, stilling, and drawing them back close to her body. “You do not think I frightened him away, do you?” Her voice became quiet and almost meek. Impa shook her head, laying a wrinkled hand upon the Princess’ shoulder to rest.

    “Do not worry, he will return. He always does.” The woman nodded to herself. Zelda’s shoulder dropped as she relaxed, though the expression she wore never wavered.

    “But what if he is lost? Or hurt somewhere?” She lifted her head, her eyes widening with the possibility. She moved to stand, but Impa pushed her back down.

    “Princess, he is a grown boy with a map. Besides, he has been all over the world and back again by this point, I doubt he is hurt or lost.” Impa chuckled, and Zelda’s frown deepend. “He has probably gotten distracted. You know how he is, he’s given a task and he does seventy-six other things before he actually gets to what he’s been told to do.” She shook her head, smiling.

    “It would seem the Shrine of Resurrection has taken more than his memory, but his attention span as well. When he got the chance he would help someone in need, but never would forsake his duties.” The Princess huffed, crossing her arms across her chest. Impa pat her arm lightly.

    “Ah, but it was his duty, was it not? During his quest to defeat Calamity Ganon, he saved Hyrule in many small ways on his journey. He gained the trust and friendship of many people, including the residents of our own humble village. He saved Hyrule one cucco at a time.” A grin lit up the woman’s features. Zelda smiled, looking down with an expression of nostalgia.

    “Cuccos, you say? That reminds me of something the Rito Champion Revali once said to me…”

    ~*~*~

    At the first knock, Zelda hurried herself to the entrance. She stood and dusted her clothes with her hands, prepared to wrench the door open after ten days since her knight’s departure. She squared her shoulders and conjured a speech in her mind to give Link a stern lecture about wandering off in the middle of his duties. At the second knock—a pair of knocks—she paused with her hand on the knob. Link wasn’t at the door. A feeling of despair filled the pit of her stomach as she opened it warily, expression devoid of emotion.

    She swallowed thickly at the sight of two Zora guards bearing the royal crest of the Zora tribe, her knight nowhere to be found. They bowed in unison at the sight of the Princess and rose just the same, their Silverscale spears in hand and uniform.

    “Welcome to Kakariko village. You are quite the ways from Zora’s Domain, have you arrived by order?”

    “Yes, your Majesty. We’ve come by order of King Dorephan to escort to you to Zora’s Domain to ratify and attend the union of Hyrule and Zora kingdom between Prince Sidon and Hylian Champion Link.” The woman said, her voice stiff and official. Zelda opened her mouth and closed it again, staring in disbelief at the guards.

    “When you wish to depart, we will protect you in your knight’s stead. He was unable to attend, as the Prince insisted on beginning the courtship immediately. We are projected to arrive five weeks before the official ceremony, but you may return to Kakariko after you meet with the King and couple in question if you so choose. We’ll return in the morning to escort you, Princess. I am Tottitka and this is Dunma.” Than man continued on, speaking as if he weren’t delivering life-altering news. Zelda’s eyes widened, and her head snapped up. Her regal facade fell completely.

    “Wait, marriage? He’s getting married?” She sputtered, gripping the door frame tightly. Dunma nodded.

    “Yes, your Highness. With the intent to unify our kingdoms, from my understanding. I don’t know much of the story beyond that, we are simply guards.” She spoke, sensing the Princess’ troubled state. Zelda nodded, numbly.

    “Very well then. Feel free to stay at the inn until tomorrow, I will be prepared to leave then.” She said, frowning. Dunma placed a hand on her shoulder, a sympathetic expression in place of the rigid and stoic one she had arrived with.

    “All will be well, Princess. You will be able to talk to Master Link as soon as we arrive, I’m sure of it.” The Zora woman spoke quietly, lingering her hand on the Princess’ shoulder.

    “Please prepare for departure.” Tottitka dropped the end of his spear onto the ground heavily with an audible thud. Zelda nodded and pulled back, her hand on the door.

    “Of course, I will be expecting you in the morning.” The Princess cleared her throat, reverting her composure to that of royalty. The pair of Zoras nodded similarly, and stepped away from the door, turning in sync.

    Zelda shut it behind them, and stared at the woodgrain. Her forehead knocked against the surface as she released a long shuddering sigh. Link thought he had to marry the Zora prince because she herself could not bring herself to. Her eyes slipped shut.

    The floor behind her creaked slowly with added weight as Impa

    “What is the matter, Princess?”

    ~*~*~

    The metal choker held around his intended’s throat like a weighted and pretty reminder of the reality of their engagement. His intended. Something deep within the pit of the Zora prince’s stomach fluttered at the notion, and he dragged his fingers from the back of Link’s neck to his shoulder, squeezing. The Hylian Champion sat at the blue coral vanity, dissecting his own appearance in apparent nervousness. He fidgeted on the stool. Sidon stood right behind bent on one knee to better match their heights, a sympathetic smile set in place. Link turned, craning his neck still against the metal to meet the Prince’s gaze.

    “Are you sure these clothes are fine? Will the council be upset because I’m not dressed nicely?” Link tugged at the hem of his tunic, brows furrowed. Sidon shook his head, a lilting laugh escaping as he did so.

    “No of course not! You are perfect! I will present my intended just as you are. Not with stuffy clothing because our elders wish it so.” He smiled genuinely. “The Zora people love you, Link. They trust you. As do I, you will be received wonderfully.”

    “I don’t like politics.” Link frowned, displeasure etching his features. Sidon chuckled, squeezing his shoulder.

    “I do hope you are not regretting your decision to wed me, then. Do not think of it as political, I will simply be presenting my wonderful husband-to-be to my people.” He said with a smile. Link ducked his head to hide the blush that crept over his cheeks, stray hair falling over his eyes. “If you are, then I believe they are ready.”

    Link nodded, standing and pushing away from the mirror. Sidon stood as well, grabbing the Hylian’s arm lightly in reassurance. He led him to the door where Muzu waited.

    “You are ready? Good then. Prince Sidon, you are to address your people and announce your engagement. You are then free to go where you wish, show him off if you will.” Muzu waved a hand, gesturing through the door. The Prince gripped Link’s arm a bit tighter.

    “Yes Muzu, I understand.” He said, and steered the Hylian into open expanse of the throne room. King Dorephan sat upon the throne, regal, he smiled at his son and the Prince’s intended as they passed through.

    “Are you ready? They are waiting.” The King leaned forward, a glint in his eye. Sidon paused, Link in tow, and gave a firm nod. “Then go, my son. All is well.”

    They descended the palace steps in silence, the chatter and noise of the citizens apparent and excited as they approached. Link clung tighter to the Prince’s side, huddling close as if to hide or disappear completely by his size. Sidon found himself smiling down at the Hylian, any nerves he once had for the moment replaced by a strange exhilaration stirring from deep within.

    In truth the prospect of marrying for political reasons had initially crushed the Zora prince, though he knew his duties and debt to Hyrule Kingdom well. He held Link’s arm tighter and found no regret in his decision, he was happy. He just hoped that Link was too.

    They made the short way to the balcony overlooking the center of Zora’s Domain, Mipha’s immortalized form turned toward the entrance and watching over them. The Prince bowed his head for a moment towards the statue, silently asking for her forgiveness and blessing to marry her old love. Although he did not expect an answer, he remained.

    Clearing his throat, Sidon turned upwards to see the entire Domain had their eyes upon him and Hyrule’s Champion, a bated silence washing over the kingdom. Link tugged at his arm silently, urging him to speak no doubt. Sidon hummed, and drew his hand from the Champion’s forearm to his upper back, fingers trailing the cool metal of the necklace for comfort. The necklace that was on display with very clear intent, display to mark Link as his own. He breathed in sharply.

    “My friends! With the recent fall of Calamity Ganon, we have the opportunity to trade and expand our commerce, to regain our former glory as it was before Ganon’s desolation. We will aid the Hylian people in rebuilding their kingdom, and to do so their Champion and I have decided upon a union to remain true to Zora tradition. You may have taken note of my brief absence, and the reason of my departure is a most joyous one.” Sidon spoke loudly and clear, he tugged Link closer. “I have crafted an engagement gift of my own two hands, set with the Zora’s Sapphire as is accepted and adorned by my intended.”

    The silence that washed over the crowd was broken by sharp gasps, wide eyes and frantic chattering. The Prince had created such a gift for a Hylian of all people, the most revered and important symbol of marriage and love.

    Sidon hooked his fingers around the metalwork, brushing against the Hylian’s delicate skin. Link swallowed thickly, Adam's apple bobbing against the Silverscale partially out of nervousness and partially due to the incessant tugging at his neck.

    “I am here to present to you, my people, the Hylian Champion Link as my intended. He has helped us in our time of need and seen to our individual problems. He has saved us from the threat posed by Vah Ruta and placed our dear late princess’ spirit to rest. Not only did he defeat Calamity Ganon and save the world, he has been a tremendous friend to us all.” Sidon turned, facing the Hylian who was charmingly pink in the cheeks from the praise. The Prince took on a gentler, less formal tone. “Link, you surprise me every time I have had the pleasure to see you. You are a savior and a dear friend, courageous and strong. You are my hero.”

    Link blushed fiercely, ducking his head to hide the embarrassment. The Prince simply smiled down at him, moving his hands to his shoulders and squeezing them in encouragement. Sidon looked down over the rail, beaming happily at the sputtering crowd. Faces of joy and surprise, that of stern council members and of friends. For the most part, the chattering from the earlier announcement had ceased and was replaced with a lengthy stunned silence to his near confession.

    Sidon barely noticed, attention turned back to the Hylian with a certain warm fondness blossoming in his chest. Link looked up almost shyly, cheeks still tinged and glowy with a little lopsided and nervous grin.

    The Zora people watched on, the moments stretching into minutes, watching their interaction with a certain surreality to it. They looked on from below, eyes still wide and unbelieving. Whoever started it, someone did, a sudden cheer rang out across the entirety of the Domain with many following. Happy shouting and tears flowed for their benevolent prince’s fortune. To them this may as well have been a union solely built on love if the engagement gift was any indication. The elders of the council glowered and turned their backs, their wrinkled faces drawn sour.

    A wide grin split across the Prince’s features, and he pulled Link into a tight embrace with such swiftness that it knocked the Champion’s breath away with a surprised gasp. Once Sidon lowered his feet to the ground again, Link’s face was a scarlet red. He scowled, trying his best to shoot an angry look at Sidon. The sight was so wonderful to the Zora prince, he threw his head back in laughter, feeling his own cheeks warm at the sight.

    The cheers died, and left in their wake was a comfortable atmosphere of welcome and joy as the Zora people split into their respective group and gossiped, dispersed. The news of the Prince’s engagement was a happy and momentous occasion, the Zoras chattered excitedly.

    Sidon looked down at the Hylian with a wide grin, incisors gleaming. Link couldn’t help but smile back. “I think perhaps it is time we visit your friends, our people.” The Prince lay a hand on the Champion’s shoulder, heavy and reassuring. Link nodded, following his fiancé’s lead down the large stone steps into the center of Zora’s Domain. People stared at them, at the engagment gift and the hand on his shoulder. It was expected, but Link couldn’t seem to care. Sidon had referred to the Zoras as ‘their’ people, not just his. The Hylian couldn’t place the feeling in his chest into words, not properly. His mind dwelled on the cheering, the happiness of the crowd, their approval. Despite that, he found himself worrying. He wondered if Zelda was on her way.

    Link remained remarkably quiet, even for him. Sidon paused, and looked down. He scrutinized his features for a sign of issue, the slight downturn of his lips. “Link?”

    “Huh?” The Hylian looked surprised, not even registering the fact that the Prince had really even stopped. He blinked. Sidon looked down at Link, his eyes filling with worry. The Prince’s mouth opened for a moment, and closed again. Was Link regretting his decision to marry? His chest tightened at the notion, but shook away the thought. Link had already told him that he held no regrets. Sidon returned his attention to the his husband-to-be.

    “Are you well?” He asked, bending down a bit. Link nodded, glancing away. The Zora prince pulled the him aside, out of the main walk. He knelt down on one knee to get closer, taking one of the Hylian’s much smaller hands in his own. Turning over the delicate palm, Sidon traced the lines with his fingertips lightly, eyes downcast. After a moment, he folded his other hand over it gently. He looked up with a soft smile.

    “If you have any worries or regrets at all, please do tell me. You are my most treasured friend, and soon to be consort. This may have been arranged for politics but do not become formal with me. You may tell me anything that is on your mind.” Sidon squeezed the palm in his hand gently, comforting. Link’s shoulders relaxed, sighing. It seemed wrong to let his free arm limp at his side, so he rested his hand over the Prince’s. His skin—scales—were smooth, slick, Link avoided feeling much as to not startle with his fascination. Rather, he traced the sharp edges mindlessly, nodding.

    “I’m just worried about Zelda, how she'd feel about this. I am her knight after all, though my duties as a Champion were fulfilled. Will I be able to see her again?” Link said, uncertainty to his voice. The Prince detangled his hands, and reached up barely touching the Hylian’s cheek, the tips of his fingers grazing the skin.

    “I believe that she will be pleased to have her solution without having to marry me at the very least. Do not worry Link, everything will work out as it should.” Sidon reassured softly, grabbing for Link’s hand again, pressing his lips to the Hylian’s knuckles briefly before standing once more to his towering position. Link pressed his lips together firmly, ears blazing red, and nodded.

    “Let us pay a visit to your friends at the inn, shall we? They will no doubt like to see you on this occasion.” Sidon suggested as they began walking back into the path. Link hardly had a chance to nod in agreement before a little dense body barreled into his torso, gripping at his sides.

    “Ahh!” Link jumped, prying at the Zora girl. Laruta, the youngest member of Prince Sidon’s fanclub looked up at the Hylian with large and watery eyes.

    “So you're the one marrying him? It’s not fair! How come you get to marry my prince?!” She exclaimed, holding onto Link’s tunic tightly. The Hylian patted her arms uncertainly, his expression a mix of a frown and a look of surprise. Sidon stifled a laugh behind his hand, stepping back when Link shot him a glare from above the Zora girl’s head.

    Tula and Tona approached behind, slower yet both with stricken expressions. Link glanced between the three, and then back to Sidon who held his hands up in defense.

    “I wanted to be the one to marry Prince Sidon!” Tula pouted. Tona’s arms were crossed across her chest, she shot Tula a frowning look.

    “Does this mean there can’t be a fan club anymore?” Tula whined, grabbing at Tona’s arm. Laruta gasped, jumping away from Link. The Hylian stepped back with Sidon, dreading the confrontation as much as he did the first time.

    “Link! Link! You can't marry Sidon, what will we do without the fanclub!?” She grabbed his sleeves and shook him, surprising even the Champion with her strength. Link opened his mouth to speak, exasperated.

    “Of course there will still be a fanclub! Prince Sidon is still the coolest!” Tona said with a wag of her finger at Laruta, cutting Link off.

    “And still very handsome!” The little Zora girl piped up, hopeful.

    “And very taken.” Tula nudged Tona’s side, winking at the Hylian. Both Link and Sidon ducked their faces away, sheepish. Laruta turned to face the Prince and Champion fully. She stood determined with her hands balled at her hips.

    “Link! Prince Sidon! You’re in love so that makes it okay!” She nodded vigorously. Link gaped, feeling to heat of his cheeks deepen, and Sidon looked much the same. Tona clapped her hands together, nearly giggling.

    “You two were so cute up there! I’ve been suspecting something for a while, and now you’re getting married! And the Sapphire? Ahh, so romantic.” She fanned herself, slumping against the other Zora girl. Tula frowned, and pushed her off.

    “No! I was the one who said there was something going on between them!” She crossed her arms, glaring at Tona. Sidon blinked at the girls, and shook his head. He stepped forward a bit, touching Link’s arm.

    “Thank you, girls. I always appreciate the support you give me, and I am glad to know you approve of our engagement.” He smiled, charming. His hand kept on Link’s arm. The three Zoras paused and looked up, sighing.

    “Of course!” They shouted in unison, all looking at the pair with wide and dreamy eyes.

    “If you would excuse us then, there are others to show my wonderful fiancé off to.” Sidon told them, pulling Link close to his side. The girls nearly squealed, nodding with bright faces and huddling together closely swoon over the Prince and Champion. Link’s face burned as he was led away, the fact that he was even blushing so madly just added to the embarrassment.

    Especially when they nearly walked straight into Kodah in front of Seabed Inn.

    Kodah just about doubled over when she saw the little Hylian, red faced and pulled tight against Zora prince, smiling brightly.

    “Linny! There you are!” She exclaimed, pulling the Hylian free from Sidon’s grip. She hugged him tightly for a moment, a broad smile in place. Kayden trailed behind from the open inn, Finley and Sasan in tow. “So this is what you’ve been hiding!” Kodah pulled away, gripping Link’s shoulders still. The Hylian shrugged, a smile of his own creeping up. Kayden stepped forward, bowing respectively to the Prince.

    “Congratulations my Prince, Link.” He pat Link’s arm, informally. Kodah released Link, allowing him to drift back near Sidon. The Prince took the gesture with comfort, shuffling nearer to the Hylian with a happy smile.

    “Yeah, congratulations you guys!” Kodah laughed. “I still can’t believe that this is what you were hiding, you were never so sly, Linny!”

    Link rolled his eyes, grinning even so. Finley jumped up. “Yeah! Next me and Sasan will be getting married, once he bulks up a bit.” She grabbed Sasan’s arm, who looked down at her with a frown.

    “Finley…” Kodah sighed, placing a hand on her hip. Finley rolled her eyes, pouting. She looked up at Sasan. The Hylian glanced between the mother and daughter with widened eyes, and stepped back and out of Finley’s grip.

    “I think I’ll stay out of this one.” He laughed nervously. Sidon and Link chuckled, passing a glance between one another. Sidon looked ahead, and bowed his head forward.

    “I thank you all for your approval.” He said cheerfully. “I must apologize however, there are many others to see to.”

    Kodah turned to the Prince and waved her hand. “It’s no trouble at all, thank you for coming to see us. You’d better visit soon, Linny!”

    Link waved them goodbye with a final crushing hug, and left them in the distance to tend to the inn once more, and to bicker as they were bound to do.

    A majority of the day was spent visiting other Zoras and receiving most approval, though some grumbled appreciates of simply adhering to tradition. The sun was dipping low in the sky as they made their way to one last stop. Although Link was exhausted, he insisted on seeing his two old friends at the barracks. Sidon simply smiled at the request, nodding.

    The grounds, for the most part, were empty save for a few lingering guards. Both Rivan and Bazz were shedding their armor, hanging thin silver breastplates on their respective racks.

    “Good job today, Rivan.” Bazz slapped the other Zora on the back, grinning.

    “Thank you, Sir.” Rivan turned. His eyes widened at the sight of Link and Prince Sidon approaching, and his hand stuttered a salute as he straightened his posture. Bazz blinked at Rivan, and noticed the Prince and Hylian. He laughed, resting a hand heavily on Rivan’s shoulder and shaking it.

    “Ah, Prince Sidon! Link! Allow me to say congratulations.” He bowed forward, turning slightly and giving Link a wink. “Again.” Bazz grinned.

    “Yes, congratulations Prince Sidon, Master Link!” Rivan nodded, almost excitedly. He paused, and then cast a curious glance in Bazz’s direction. “Again? You knew?”

    “Of course I knew, I am the captain of the guard!” Bazz said cheerfully, laughing again. “Why else do you think your daughter was sent to retrieve Princess Zelda?”

    “She knew too?” Rivan frowned. “It feels as if I am the last to know.”

    “Oh, do not say that! I am sure Link would have told you if he was able to, yes?” Bazz pat the Zora’s shoulder. Link looked up at the mention of his name, the lack of energy really sinking in. He blinked a few times, and nodded a bit weaker than he would have liked. Sidon stood contentedly at his side, a hand hovering at his back should he fall asleep mid-walk. The day had been a long one.

    “You would have been the first to know, knight’s honor.” Link smiled.

    “I suppose that will be Prince Consort’s honor soon enough, hm?” Bazz elbowed Rivan, grinning slyly.

    “That does not sound as smooth, Sir.” Rivan made a face.

    “Oh, do not be a downer on today of all days, Rivan.” Bazz rolled his eyes, smiling. “Anyways. You must have had a long day, no doubt! The night guard is on duty now, and Rivan and I must return home.” He straightened the rest of the gear of the rack, and tugged at Rivan’s arm. Link nodded, sleepy, and waved lightly as the Prince guided him away, grateful for the shortened conversation.

    “Let us speak more often, Master Link!” Rivan said, waving goodbye. Link nodded, yawning as he was pulled along the now-dark path.

    As they were out of earshot and well on their way to the palace in the silence of night, Sidon grinned.

    “See Link? There is nothing to worry about. All of our people love you.” He said. Link turned to him warily, tilting his head up to catch the soft gaze. The Hylian nodded wordlessly, lowering his head and drooping. Sidon paused with pursed lips as he watched Link do the same, movements slower. He watched him stifle another yawn. With a silent prayer to not startle the Hylian, Sidon gently scooped the much smaller body into his arms, heavy with fatigue. Link’s eyes slipped shut.

    The Prince stood for a moment, staring down at the Hylian’s soft features almost dreamy, he may have been dreaming. His peaceful expression, the way the moonlight caught on the bridge of his nose and chin and cheeks, and the shadows that receded into the dips and shallows of his features.

    This was the man he was going to marry. Sidon found himself smiling.

    ~*~*~

    They had to follow traditional courting rules, the elders had decided. A dinner of sort would be arranged, to encourage connection and compatibility. Unfortunately, this entailed a formal affair with a moderator to watch the pair, as traditionally the pair were not allowed alone together, although such rules had become lax over time. Muzu had be chosen to moderate, since there were no other willing council elders.

    Link pushed the fish around his plate, gaze cast downward. It was too much to look up, he could feel the Zora Prince’s stare from across the table as it was. The Hylian pursed his lips. Their dishes, salmon meunière, remained for the most part untouched. Link kept his eyes trained on his plate, and he thought to himself that the pompous presentation was unnecessary. He would have liked a grilled fish steak just as well, though he’d lost his appetite for either.

    Muzu huffed quietly from the side, arms crossed. The noise was drowned by the strumming of the harp that the Zora musician played from behind, plucking at the strings and filling the silence. Link was grateful for it. After minutes of stretched silence with only the sound of the harp, he heard Sidon clear his throat.

    “Link, is the meal to your liking?” The Prince asked stiffly, taking on a formal tone. Link looked up, lips pressed firmly. He had barely even touched the salmon, and Sidon knew it. The sudden formalities of the evening as well as Muzu watching on made it hard to eat, much less make conversation.

    “It’s fine.” He said tersely, looking everywhere but the Zora prince’s eyes. Sidon nodded, taking a slow bite of his own salmon. The silence from there dragged on, the incessant strumming of the harp as the only sound. That may have made it worse. Link looked back down, to a pinkish drink to the side of his plate. He just hoped it was alcoholic. Sipping it, testing, he came to the conclusion that it was, though not strong enough to make the night more bearable. He wondered if it was rude to ask Muzu for more.

    After several more moments, Sidon cleared his throat again, drawing Link’s attention from his drink.

    “I know very little of your life before the Calamity.” He started, drumming his fingers on the table. “Your childhood, where did you grow up?”

    “Castle Town. Here.” Link told him curtly, poking his fish again. Sidon bit his lip.

    “Castle Town, what was it like back then?” He asked slowly, yet still formal. Link shrugged.

    “Not rubble.” He shrugged a shoulder. Muzu groaned from his side of the table.

    “You two are being very difficult.” He ran a hand down the side of his face, sighing. Sidon shot him a look.

    “We are doing as the council asked, Muzu.” He said sternly, straightening his back. Muzu frowned.

    “The council asked for a connection. I’m seeing no connection.” The elderly Zora groaned again. Link’s hand immediately shot to his his neck, the now familiar metal cool underneath his fingers. A certain guilt washed over him, and he opened his mouth to apologize but was cut off again by Muzu.

    “I know this is not ideal, and I wish the best for you both. I see that nothing will come of it if we continue like this, so I will tell the rest of the council that this night went smoothly. I encourage you both to try something, anything on your own however. I know you are much closer than this and frankly, I cannot stand another minute of watching on.” Muzu said as he stood, wagging a finger at the pair.

    Sidon’s eyes widened, as if he hadn’t even realized how terribly things were going. He studied Link then, his uncomfortable fidgeting, his untouched plate. Sidon’s jaw clenched, and he stood quickly.

    “Understood. I need a moment, please.” He spoke curtly, a stern expression.

    As he left the room and out of the palace, Sidon’s mind lingered on Link’s face. The dejected look as the Prince escaped and left him alone with Muzu. He couldn’t shake away the guilt that welled up inside for leaving so abruptly, though he felt worse for putting his dear friend through that awful dinner.

    The streets were empty so late at night, and the moon hung above the center of the Domain. The Prince’s feet padded across the slick stone, and he found himself mindlessly wandering to the place he knew best. He stood in front of Mipha’s statue, that seemed to glow in the moonlight. The statue that he had known almost better than his real sister. He sighed, one heavy shuddering breath that left him deflated. He shook his head, and looked up at the statue’s form.

    “I should not have left.” Sidon began, studying her gleaming form. “I do not know what happened, what went wrong. He seemed as fraught as I felt. Muzu asked for something else, but what if it goes just as dinner had? You knew him well, Sister. I fear that I am not the best for him, although…”

    “Am I interrupting?” Link’s quiet voice came from behind, his boots shuffling softly on the stone. Sidon jumped back, blinking rapidly. He felt his cheeks warm.

    “Oh, Link! Ah, how much of that did you hear?” The Prince asked, shifting his weight nervously with a tight smile. Link’s eyes softened.

    “Enough.” He stepped forward, resting a hand on the Zora’s arm. Sidon sighed, shoulders slumping.

    “I am sorry about tonight, Link. I do not think I really know what I am doing either.” He looked down. Link smiled softly, squeezing the Prince’s arm.

    “We could always try again.” He suggested hopefully, Sidon gave him an incredulous look.

    “Dinner with Muzu?"

    “No, no, something else. Just us.” Link said, rolling his eyes. He smiled.

    “Just us.” Sidon repeated, as if that were a whole new option. He nodded. “Would you like to swim with me again?”

    “What, now?” Link raised a brow. The Prince nodded again, grinning. “Of course! The waters are gorgeous at night, let me show you.” He grabbed hold of the hand on his arm with his own, barely interlocking fingers as he stooped low and pulled the Hylian close for a tight embrace, wrapping an arm around his back.

    “I am so happy to have met you.” Sidon grinned widely, full of energy once more. Link gaped, blushing madly with a sharp intake of breath. The Prince pulled away and stood straighter, before pulling the Hylian back along the path to the lake and away from Mipha’s statue.

    They walked along, comfortable atmosphere back in place. As soon as they ascended the steps to the open expanse of the East Reservoir Lake, the Prince turned his head to Link with a grin, and sprinted ahead, diving into the water. Link laughed, shedding his tunic and clothes, dropping them as he approached the lake. Sidon emerged from the otherwise still waters, the rippling waves reflecting the moonlight. Link faltered at the necklace, fingers lingering and deciding to keep it or not. His hand dropped, allowing the intricate piece to remain. Sidon looked on, smiling as Link felt the choker, kept it. He waited at the quay, elbows propped on the stone and watching the Hylian with an intense fondness. Link drew near slower, and sat carefully at the edge.

    “That is still not swimming.” Sidon lifted his head, a charming grin. Link rolled his eyes, leaning back. “Come, it is warmer in here.” The Prince took one of Link’s hands and pulled him into the water, drawing him close to his chest gently. Link frowned, blushing. He looked up. Sidon grinned impishly.

    “I know how to swim.” Link mumbled, keeping his head low. Sidon laughed.

    “Yes, but I would like to keep you close for a little longer.” He spoke low, slowly spinning around in the water. Link huffed, rolling his eyes, but made no move to push away from the Zora prince. Sidon looked up to the expanse of the night sky, stars dotting and shining brightly, the moon hanging above.

    “It is a beautiful night. I am glad to be able to spend it with you like this, rather than earlier.” The Prince said softly, turning his attention back to the Hylian. Link looked up at him.

    “Earlier…” Link started, uncertainty creeping into his voice. Sidon pressed his lips together firmly, concerned. Their gazes locked. “You said that you don’t think you’re the best for me. Why is that?”

    “Ah…” Sidon hummed. “You are a Champion, a true hero, and the kindest man I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. The only thing thing I could do to aid you in your venture was to bring you closer to Vah Ruta. When I was young, I read stories of heroes long past. I strived to be like then, to be like you, they were all the same. Defeat the evil, save the princess, outgoing and charming. But you are… Quiet at time, almost reserved. You are charming in your own way, and you have a smile lovelier than all of the stars. You are passionate. I may have done good things for my people, for others, but you are far beyond the rest. While it would be my honor to wed you, I fear that tonight’s dinner was telling of our future, and that I will not make you happy.”

    Sidon looked up to the sky, pursing his lips in embarrassment. His inner musings were only spoken in secret to his sister. He was unused to allowing himself to be so vulnerable, open. He looked back to the sky.

    He wasn't sure of what to expect. It wasn't however, arms wrapping around his middle. Link rested his head on the Prince’s chest, hugging him tightly. Sidon blinked down in surprise, taken aback. Link looked up at the Zora prince, eyes filled with determined emotion. The Prince felt exposed, raw, and different emotions welled up deep within himself. He closed his arms gently around his childhood hero, his most treasured friend, his fiancé. Every passing moment, his heart hammered in his chest.

    Sidon hadn't realized it, but something grew within him, something that had no beginning or end. It bloomed in that moment, blossoming from simple and unnoticed feelings that may have been more than simple affection.

    Maybe it didn’t have to just be convenience that brought them together.

    ~*~*~

    The weeks passed much the same, and Link found that he had become comfortable in Zora’s Domain, and comfortable with his old friends. Sidon reassured him not to worry about Zelda, and so he didn't. Link’s itch for adventure waned, and he grew accustomed to the Domain as more of a first home. He was happy, comfortable.

    It was in the early hours of the morning when the quiet knock came to Link’s door. He groaned, pulling his pillow over his head.

    The knock came again, louder this time.

    “Yes?” He called out groggily, irritated as he threw the pillow off.

    “Link? It is me, may I come in?” He heard the muffled sound of Sidon’s voice through the door, and considerably relaxed.

    “Go ahead.” Link called, rolling onto his ride to face the door. It opened and shut gently, a crack of light pouring through and closing. From the dim lighting, Link could see that the Prince looked tired. He felt the waterbed dip with added weight as Sidon sat.

    “I realize maybe I should not have woken you, but I find I cannot sleep. You are the most comforting person to me, so I came here.” He said quietly, almost shy. Link smiled softly, scooting over on the bed to make room for Sidon to lay. The Zora smiled gratefully, moving closer to Link and taking his hand in his own, tracing the palm with his fingertips. He settled into the covers close to Link, holding his hand still.

    “You’re always welcome here.” Link said quietly, still half-asleep. Sidon nodded, thankful. They remained in comfortable silence as the minutes stretched on, but Link knew the Prince well enough. There was something on his mind. Sidon shifted, facing Link.

    “How do you feel about the last several weeks?” He asked. Link raised a brow.

    “Huh?”

    “Our courting, since the first time we had dinner together.”

    “Oh, I think it’s gone well. The second dinner was much better.” Link nodded, remembering the time fondly. Sidon frowned in thought.

    “Was that at the gazebo, or the picnic?” he asked, quiet.

    “It was at the gazebo, remember? You tried to cook something nice for me but you set-”

    “I said I was sorry already! How was that better than the first?” Sidon grumbled, pouting in a playful manner. Link chuckled, giving the Prince a pat on his hand.

    “Well for one, Muzu wasn’t there.” Link made a face, and Sidon laughed.

    “I personally think the picnic was better.”

    “I still have the flowers.” Link reminisced, gesturing to a poorly made dried circlet of flowers on the side table. In truth the picnic had been with Kodah and her family as well. Sasan found wildflowers and weaved them into a crown for Finley. Prince Sidon had asked Sasan if he could teach him, so he could make a crown for Link. His lack of previous knowledge and his large fingers made for clumsy work, but he still it presented cheerfully.

    “I feared you would not like it, Sasan makes them much better than I do.” Sidon chuckled. Link rolled his eyes.

    “You made it for me, how could I not like it?”

    “You are much too kind.” Sidon batted Link’s hands, blushing still.

    “I didn’t know you could play the harp until just last week.” Link smiled. Sidon shrugged, bashful.

    “I do not play as often as I should.” He lamented. Link smiled.

    “You’ll just have to play for me again some time.”

    Sidon nodded, huddling closer to Link, his eyes becoming tired. They stayed quiet for a few minutes, and Link imagined that the Prince had fallen asleep for a moment. Sidon's body shifted.

    “Can you tell me about her?” He whispered. Link turned his head.

    “Who?” He spoke quietly in the dark.

    “My sister. You grew up with her and I... I didn’t get that chance.” Sidon said. Link smiled sadly at the drooped expression that the Prince wore. He pulled him closer.

    “Of course I can. I may have lost my memory but I'm sure there's something I could tell you.” Link hummed quietly. Sidon nodded.

    “Once, when we were younger and before we became Champions, I overheard some of the Zora guards talking about a bokoblin camp not too far from the Domain. I wanted to be heroic, I thought I could take it on alone. I charged in with my training sword and wooden shield, and needless to say, I was overwhelmed. Mipha knew my plan, she always did. She followed me to that camp, and when they all charged at me, she was there. With her trident in hand, and finished off the rest of the bokoblins that I couldn't. She scolded me of course, but she would always heal me afterwards. Your sister was best known for her healing, but her work with a trident was phenomenal.” Link told, recalling his old friend. That had been one of the few times he'd actually seen her in combat. He frowned at the thickness in his throat, remembering that she was gone and he was still here.

    Sidon remained silent, his breath evening. Link looked over to find him sleeping, and smiled again. He allowed his own eyes to droop shut, huddling close to the warmth at his side, and falling asleep.

    Link awoke to another knock on his door. He knew it couldn’t have been Sidon, as the Zora Prince was clinging tightly to his side in sleep.

    “Yes?” Link called out quietly, tired, trying not to wake the Prince.

    “Link! We have news of Princess Zelda’s arrival!” he heard Muzu from behind the door. Link shot up, jostling Sidon.

    “Hmm?” The Prince blinked awake, stifling a yawn. Link stared at him, eyes wide.

    “Zelda’s here.”

Chapter 5

#sidlink #sidon #link #botw #myfic #connecting