#and i’m sure i could figure it out given motivation and enough time

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Finally Getting Help (pt 12)

Masterpost

“Ya, I have questions,” Jason confirmed, trying not to shift awkwardly in his seat. “I read the slideshow but I don’t seem to fit in either liminals or ghosts, and I have some issues that I think would have been mentioned if they were common?”

“Alright, what are they?” Danny asked tilting his head a little. 

“Well, it’s been better since meeting you, and I know increased aggression was one of the thing mentioned but mine isn’t like Damian’s, or even yours I think. We’ve been calling it Pit Madness. I’ve gotten better at managing it but especially when I got back it was really bad. I… killed a ton of people and I still have a lot of bloodlust that no one is comfortable with.”

“That is unusual, especially directed towards humans. Aside from revenge against whoever killed them dead usually don’t care very much about the living,” Danny said curiously, considering Jason. 

“And I do read as- as dead?” Jason asked, he had been worried about that.

“Well you’re obviously not Dead dead,” Danny said rolling his eyes before he reached across the table. “Here, with touch I can figure out a bit more.” He said and Jason hesitated for a moment before resting his hand in Danny’s.

A cool feeling quickly washed up his arm and over his chest like intangible water. Danny tilted his head to the other side, his brows coming together slowly as he gazed into the middle distance and considered what he was feeling. He let out a hiss and some sort of chitter that couldn’t come from a human throat, then clicked his tongue and the cool feeling dissipated, sinking under Jason’s skin and cooling heat he hadn’t been aware of feeling. 

“Okay, ya that’s weird,” Danny admitted and Jason’s heart dropped. “Best I can equate it to is, like a bone that healed wrong,” Danny said thoughtfully. “You did die before?” He asked, Jason nodded mutely. “Okay, I won’t ask why or how. But best I can tell your soul was shoved back into your body and not given time to get settled back in it’s proper position before whatever was done to bind it in place. So you’re alive but with some.. Spiritual nerve and brain damage. Would you be comfortable telling me how you were resurrected?”

“Well, I resurrected myself apparently. I don’t really remember it but apparently about six months after my death I dug myself out of my grave. Before I could get anywhere the League of Shadows found me and dunked me in the Lazarus pit which is this glowing green stuff that heals the dying and kills the healthy. I don’t remember any of it, it was almost a year before I recovered enough to be myself at all.”

“That actually makes a lot of sense,” Danny said, nodding thoughtfully. “My guess would be at first you came back as a revenant, which is basically when a ghost possesses their own corpse to get revenge, not truly a living being. But then this Lazarus pit resurrected your body and your soul got stuck in your living body again without being prepared or intending for that to happen. 

“That’s what I’m guessing happened but I can’t be sure, and I’m not a healer so I don’t really know what to do about it. I’m sure my ghost doctor Frostbite would be happy to take a look at you though! Looks like we’ll be making an appointment for you too,” He joked making Jason chuckle nervously. 

“Well that’s.. Totally fucked up,” Jason said and Danny nodded.

“Ya, dying is basically always fucked up, coming back Specifically for revenge and then getting stuck here long after that’s a motivating factor is messy. I mean, for a human that would be fine, but for people like us,” He gestured between the two of them. “Obsessions are everything so that’s hard. You’ve been cultivating more healthy obsessions I know but you’ll never be the same,” Danny said, and Jason nodded.

He knew as much, he could never go back. Not that he hadn’t always had these sorts of thoughts and inclinations. Once of the reasons Bruce had taken on him and Dick was their murderous inclinations needed to be curbed, for Dick it had work, for Jason… Well it was a combination of a lot of things, it wasn’t really Bruce’s fault it had failed. Other than the fact that he’d let the Joker live far longer than he should have, but that was bleeding-heart-Brucie for you. It was funny, to not really be mad at Bruce anymore, understanding there was nothing else he could have done, and still not be able to forgive him.

Danny must have noticed how Jason had gotten lost in his own head because he reached across the table and covered one of Jason’s clenched hands with his own, soft and cool. “You’re doing really well Jason. It’s a messed up situation but I don't think anyone could have handled it better then you are,” Danny said softly.

Jason didn’t believe it but it felt good to hear and it did settle him a little bit. “Thanks Danny, that means a lot,” he said, giving Danny’s hand a squeeze before pulling back. 

There was a natural break in conversation as the waitress brought their appetizers, and when she left again Jason didn’t know what to say. Thankfully Danny spoke. “Why don’t I tell you a bit about my doctor? Frostbite can be a lot, as much as it would probably be funny to spring him on you I should probably give you a heads up.”

“Ya, ya that sounds good,” Jason agreed, glad to let Danny do the talking for a bit. And when telling him about Frostbite turned into talking about the Yetis, to talking about the Infinite Realms, to Danny info-dumping about space. Well Jason really doesn’t mind, especially with the way it makes Danny light up. It was good to see him happy.

---------

The food was good but Jason didn’t taste much of it, and aside from going “Oh wow!” When he took his first bite of his food Danny didn’t seem to either. At a certain point Jason realized he was going to have to do some talking or Danny was going to keep talking and wouldn’t eat. So he took over, but he didn’t know much about space so he started talking about literature and poetry and Danny listened raptly and finally ate his food.

It was very nice to have someone listen to him like that, it was sort of funny, it looked like it was as fun for Danny to listen to him talk then it had been the other way. Jason thought about how supporting obsessions was important for ghosts to have their obsessions supported. Reading wasn’t Really his obsession, he didn’t think, but it sure was an interest and it felt really good to get to share with someone new. 

By the end of the dinner Jason has well and truly decided that this was a date. Danny was cute, good, and passionate, and a good listener, Oh and strong as Fuck which was always a turn on for Jason. Speaking of powerful…

“Can I ask you another sort of serious question?” Jason asked after they got their dessert. Danny looked up, mouth full and a little smear of chocolate on his top lip, Jason resisted the urge to reach across the table and wipe it off. Danny nodded. “When Damian gave me his little shovel talk he mentioned that you’re going to be a god some day?” He said, tilting his head. Maybe that was a third date sort of conversation but it seemed like it would be important to understanding Danny.

Danny choked a little and swallowed, sighing heavily. “That’s what I’ve been told,” Danny grumbled. “There’s a prophecy apparently, and with how my powers have been progressing even just in the first 2 years since I died, I can already go toe to toe with some Ancients and win so… Ya, I guess it’s probably inevitable, especially since I haven’t stagnated yet. I don’t want to be one really, I didn’t ask for this, but whatever. I probably can’t stop it.” He slumped back in the booth, looking tired. 

Shit Jason shouldn’t have brought that up. “Hey you’ve got time right? That won’t be for a while. Also, what’s an Ancient?” 

“Very old, very powerful spirits. They’re essentially their own pantheon, Ancient is basically just what ghosts call gods.” He said with a shrug.

“Makes sense, I mean gods usually are ancient. Even more reason you don’t have to worry about that right now. I mean you’re far from ancient,” Jason pointed out, earning himself a little smile from Danny. 

“Ya, you’re right,” He agreed and went back to eating his dessert, the conversation moved on to the music they liked.

When the bill came Jason put his card down without letting Danny see what the bill came to and passed it back to the waitress. They lingered in the booth for a while still chatting, unwilling to part ways yet. If Jason didn’t know his family would want Danny home before they went out on patrol he might have suggested they just go to a park and walk for a while. Talk, maybe each take one of his wireless earbuds and take turns picking songs. But he had a feeling Damian really would try to kill Jason if he didn’t get to see Danny home safe. 

Eventually they left, wandering back to Jason’s motorbike and Danny snuggled up to Jason’s back again as they drove back to the manor. The silence was companionable until Jason pulled up, propping the bike up to let Danny get off. He took off his helmet and handed it back to Jason, not letting go immediately when Jason took it so their hands were touching. 

“This was nice, I had fun,” Danny said, blushing a little and looking down.

“It was, we should do it again soon,” Jason agreed, “I’ll text you okay?” 

“You’d better,” Danny teased before walking back towards the manor. 

Damian opened the door for him, shooting Jason a glare before slamming it making him laugh. He was still a child no matter how much he pretended he wasn’t. Jason kicked off on his bike and zoomed off, heading home to get ready for patrol.

Next

#dc x dp #danny phantom #jason todd #dead on main #first date #danny is pregnant #trans!danny #revenant Jason todd #frostbite #Finally getting help AU

[housethemd]

So in the episode where House is on methadone

Everyone is trying to figure out what’s going on with House, why he’s being nice, etc etc and eventually Wilson is just like “he’s on heroin.”

The surety with which Wilson says this really struck me. Like Wilson doesn’t just suggest House must on drugs that aren’t Vicodin, doesn’t even merely suggest House could be on heroin. No he says with absolute certainty that House is on heroin.

The only way Wilson could be so sure, would be if he’s seen House on heroin before.

Now while I’m quite convinced that House was an occasional recreational drug user prior to the infarction, heroin usually isn’t a drug you might take just for fun at a party every now and again. This leads me to believe that sometime in the early days post infarction is the most likely time House used heroin.

I’m imagining Wilson showing up after work to check on House. Stacy left weeks ago and House is still dealing with that on top of healing and being newly disabled so he’s been in a pretty god awful mood that only Wilson seems to be able to tolerate.

But when Wilson gets there House is in a better mood. Not just a better mood, he’s happy. Wilson knows immediately something is going on.

“What did you do? What did you take?” He’d ask. He knows people’s moods don’t change overnight like that, so either House took something or he’s planning to kill himself. Both are equally possible given his recent trauma and mental state, and Wilson needs to figure out which.

“What? Nothing. Well Vicodin but you know I’ve got a prescription for that.” House would reply, waggling his finger in Wilson’s direction like this is all some kind of joke.

Wilson frantically searches through everything within arms reach of House. Thankfully even with his better mood House can’t move very quickly, and Wilson manages to unearth a bag, and dashes out of House’s reach to open it. It’s filled with powder and syringes and Wilson has done enough ER shifts to know what it is.

“No, House. No. How did you even get this?” He’d ask, shocked.

“It’s easy when you know the right places to go.” House would say, not looking at Wilson anymore.

“The right places to… House you can barely get from the couch to the bathroom how the hell did you get this?”

“I guess I was sufficiently motivated.”

And Wilson’s heart breaks. He doesn’t have it in him to be mad at his friend. His life is upside down and House has never been good with change. Wilson does throw away the needles and flush the drugs and it pisses House off (“Do you know how much I paid for that?”) but once House calms down he makes House swear never again, that he won’t go down that road. Wilson says he’ll do anything, even write him more Vicodin prescriptions if he just promises not to use heroin again.

And House promises.

So when House is suddenly in an unexplainably good mood years later, Wilson thinks he knows exactly what’s going on. He’s angry, House promised. Wilson held up his end of the deal for the most part, so he comes up with a plan to catch House and make him admit to it.

But we all know how that plays out.

#housethemd writes #just regular Saturday thoughts #house md #james wilson #hate crimes md #greg house #hilson #dr house #dr wilson #wilson x house #house/wilson #gregory house #house md meta

[ticklishfiend]

The Gaang Gets Zuko (ATLA)

lee!zuko , ler!gaang :P

A/N : im having sooo much fun with this show rn, esp having fun attacking zuko as much as possible LOL im going bonkers. there’s no clear story or plot in this one, just the gaang being silly and zuko getting to be silly with them :P

Summary : separate short stories of each member of the gaang tickling zuko (and one where Zuko actually gets one back, read to find out who hehe)

Word Count : 5139

hope u enjoy!! <3

-

It was strange how relaxed Zuko was starting to feel. The air seemed easier to breathe these days, despite everything he knew they were all about to go through. But that’s just it. Zuko knows he’s not alone. He has people, good people, behind him. Though he misses his Uncle greatly, it keeps Zuko motivated to know Iroh would be proud to see how far he’s come since they’d been separated.

Things are looking up, despite it all, and Zuko’s especially happy he gets to feel that in good company.

“So, like this, right?” Aang asked, getting into position for the new firebending move Zuko’s trying to teach him. 

“Um…not quite,” Zuko walked behind him, grabbing his shoulders to gently adjust his stance. “You want your shoulders back a little more, it’ll help your balance. And you should have your waist turned a bit to the side, like this…” Zuko gently gripped onto Aang’s sides, but was startled at how quickly Aang jumped away with a surprised laugh.

“Aaah–tickles, tickles!” Aang giggled, rubbing the sensation away with his arms.

Zuko frowned with his hands on his hips, “Seriously? I barely touched you.”

Katara snickered as she watched them train, bending water in the air lazily like a fidget. “Aang’s more sensitive than most. Remember that wound your sister gave him on his foot? Yeah, that took way, way longer than it should have. He wouldn’t stop squirming.”

“It’s not my fault your water’s so tickly!” Aang cringed at the memory. He took a deep breath before turning back to Zuko, getting into position. “Okay, I’m ready this time. You just surprised me.”

Zuko lifted an eyebrow before trying again, this time with less giggly results. Zuko wasn’t used to such silliness when it came to training, but it was endearing to see Aang was comfortable enough with him to act like that (even if it was slightly annoying).

They trained for another 15 or so minutes before Zuko called for a break, ready for his pre-lunch meditation. He leaned down to gather some of his scattered things into a bag, not noticing the figure creeping up behind him. Before he knew it, Zuko felt two hands give quick pinches to his hip. “AH-! Ggghaha-!” a strangled giggle fell out of him before he could stop it, squirming out of the grip and whipping his body around.

Aang stood behind him with a grin and hands raised in surrender, “Sorry, I had to get you back for earlier.”

Zuko scowled with a pink face, trying very hard to ignore Katara giggling behind Aang. “But I wasn’t even trying to tickle you earlier,” he groaned, turning back around but keeping his guard up. “It’s unfair catching me off guard like that.”

“Yeah, but you gotta admit, that sound you just made was pretty funny,” Aang snickered, sitting down next to Katara and stealing some of her water to fidget with as well. 

Zuko sighed, turning around to hide his warm face. “Whatever, I’m gonna meditate. Don’t bother me unless it’s for lunch,” he said before walking out of their view to his normal meditation spot.

-

Zuko was sat on his bed reading a book Uncle had given him forever ago. Being on the run meant he never really had time to just sit and read (and maybe it was partly his pride that wouldn’t allow him to do something he deemed so lazy), but honestly it wasn’t half bad. Sure, he could be training right now, but everyone else seemed content doing their own thing so maybe that was okay for him too. Uncle always said proper relaxation was an important tool for a warrior to learn.

His reading time, however, was cut short when he heard a knock at his doorway. Zuko looked up to see Sokka peeking his head around the corner.

“You need something?” Zuko asked, sitting his book down on the bed.

“Well, I–uh…” Sokka cleared his throat shuffling awkwardly in the doorway. “I was just wondering if you would, uh–help me out with something? It’s nothing major! You really don’t have to if you don’t wanna, I know you’ve got a lot on your plate with, y’know, training the Avatar and everything, but like, I mean, if you maybe had the time–”

“Sokka,” Zuko interrupted his ramblings, holding the book up for him to see. “I’m not exactly doing anything important right now. I can do you a favor if you need it.”

Sokka sighed, “Okay, that’s good to hear because I really need your help right now,” he shuffled into Zuko’s room defeatedly, plopping himself next to the prince and throwing his head in his hands. “I think I sorta suck at hand-to-hand combat.”

Zuko nearly laughed at that. “Are you serious? You guys managed to take out every team I threw at you, and you think you’re bad at combat?”

“Yeah, but that was when I had everybody with me! You know, benders?!” Sokka sighed, “I’m not a bender, so having them with me to fight is like, insanely helpful. But…what if I end up alone at the next battle? What if I lose my sword? I’ll be useless! I need to know how to fight with my fists at least a little before we go out there.”

All this did was confuse Zuko even more. “Your girlfriend is a Kyoshi Warrior. Why aren’t you asking her for help? She’s the only other non-bender on the team, it seems pretty obvious.”

Sokka blushed and turned his head away, “Well that’s…actually part of it,” he scratched the back of his head sheepishly, “She’s so good at combat. And she’s a great teacher, don’t get me wrong! Everything I know about fighting, it came from her. But…I feel so stupid. We spar all the time, but she’s the one teaching me the moves, she knows what strategy I’m gonna take! I kinda…I wanna impress her during our next spar. Maybe show her something she hasn’t seen me do before,” Sokka looked up at Zuko with an unsure face. “I thought maybe you could teach me a thing or two?”

Zuko just stared for a moment, thinking it over. Sokka had that puppy-dog look on his face he always gets when he’s trying to win someone over…unfortunately for Zuko, he’s really good at that face. 

Zuko sighed, rubbing a hand over his face before standing and making his way towards the door. “I can’t promise it’ll help you any. I’m better at fighting with my bending than just plain combat. You’re already in good hands with Suki.”

Sokka jumped up, following behind Zuko like a puppy. “I know, but I just wanna see if it helps,” he wrapped an arm around the back of Zuko’s neck as they walked, the boy in question not acknowledging the touch whatsoever. “Can’t hurt to try, right?”

Zuko peeked an eye towards Sokka. “Whatever.”

They found an open area to spar, somewhere away from everyone else so no one could spill the “secret” to Suki. Not like anyone actually cared, but Sokka insisted this was the best move to make. 

They fought for a while, Sokka showing off the moves he learned from Suki, and Zuko trying to teach him anything that popped into his head that Sokka might not already know. But…the spar wasn’t really turning out the way Zuko had envisioned before they started.

Sokka was actually really good at this. Like, stupid good. Way better than he had given himself credit for just about an hour ago. He’d already pinned Zuko probably 5 times, and Zuko only got him down once. It was sorta embarrassing. Zuko kept reminding himself that the guy had been trained by a literal Kyoshi warrior, so it shouldn’t be that surprising.

Still, though. It did take a tiny blow to his ego that the guy asking him for training was practically kicking his butt right now.

“Woohoo! Down for the count again!” Sokka whooped from behind Zuko. The boy was pinned on his front, arms behind his back.

“I thought you wanted help,” Zuko wheezed, twisting his wrists in Sokka’s hold to no avail. “Now it feels like you just wanted bragging rights,” he mumbled.

Sokka didn’t say anything. Actually, he just kept looking down at Zuko with this look. His eyes a little wide, his lips sucked behind his teeth. 

You’re kidding. You’re kidding.

“Are you serious?!” Zuko yelled, starting to actually fight under Sokka’s hold now that he felt thoroughly pissed off. “Why would you lie about that?! You could’ve just asked for a spar!”

Sokka stammered, “Well, I was serious at first! I wasn’t lying! I really did want your help!” He paused, baring his teeth a little in guilt. “Buuuut…after we started sparring, I realized I was way better than I thought I was. I don’t know why, but I just kinda figured you’d be able to take me down with no trouble! You’re like, royally trained or something, right?”

Zuko frowned, “Yeah. I am,” he said. “In firebending.”

Sokka’s brows shot up. “Oh yeaaaah. Didn’t really think about that,” he chuckled nervously.

A beat passed in silence before both of them realized Sokka was still on top of him. Zuko twisted his wrists in Sokka’s hands, “Well? Are you gonna get off me?”

“I don’t really trust you not to turn me into bacon right now.”

“Sokka.”

Sokka laughed, “Y’know, it’s kinda funny if you think about it. Last year I used to run from you, and now I’ve got you literally pinned under me. I mean, really, it just writes itself!”

Zuko groaned, pressing his forehead to the floor. “You are…beyond annoying.”

“I’m just saying, if I had all this Kyoshi training last year, we might not even be here right now. Or maybe you’d have joined our group back then, after seeing how much of an asset to the team I am!” Sokka teased, pressing his body weight against Zuko’s arms so he could flex a muscle in Zuko’s eyeshot. 

Then, Sokka went quiet for a moment. Suspiciously quiet. Zuko was not a fan of his disadvantage right now. 

“Hey, who’s that fire nation girl that’s always hanging around your sister? You know, the one that can paralyze people?”

Zuko sighed, “That would be Ty Lee. Get off.”

“Yeah, Ty Lee! Man, it’d be so cool if she wasn’t the worst,” Sokka adjusted his grip a bit, like he was trying to get a better hold for something. What in the world is he planning?! “I bet I could learn a thing or two from that girl, strengthen up my fighting style a bit,” Sokka shrugged, “Eh, I bet I could be self taught. I just gotta find the right nerve…”

Before Zuko could even process what he was talking about, Sokka started poking up and down Zuko’s open sides, using one finger to poke one side, then the other, then back again. Over and over and over. 

“G-GaAH!” Zuko’s body jumped under the assault, squirming under his hold. “N-No, Sokka, let me–gohoho!” He giggled involuntarily, trying his best to hide his face in the floor while also trying to jerk away from Sokka’s ticklish hold.

“No, hold on, I think I’m getting the hang of this!” Sokka teased, poking up into Zuko’s ribs. Zuko couldn’t help the squeaky giggles falling from his lips, it was mortifying. He kicked his legs out behind Sokka like it would do anything, but with how good the boy had gotten at these warrior pins, Zuko didn’t stand a chance.

“S-stohohop! This is sohoho–ahaha so stuhupid!” Zuko cackled, writhing when he felt Sokka start pinching at his bony ribs. He could feel his face growing warmer by the second, horribly embarrassed by how easily Sokka can drag him into his playful little games.

“Okay, okay, just oneeee more thing,” Sokka said before bringing his hand up to flutter soft fingers against Zuko’s neck and ears. Crapcrapcrapcrap that really tickles. Zuko immediately fell into the most disgusting, high-pitched, girly-ish giggles he’s ever produced. It. Was. Terrible.

“Nohoho! Come ohohon! This is–ahaha this is so unfahahair!” Zuko whined, pulling against the hands holding him hostage. “This is assahahault!”

Sokka cackled at that, finally letting go of his very ticklish victim. He stood and backed away enough to let Zuko catch his breath, wiping a mirthful tear from his eye.

“You–pfff!! You’re so ticklish! Who woulda guessed that?!” Sokka laughed, practically doubled over in it. Zuko grumbled on the ground, sitting up and stretching his arms.

“And you are so childish,” he groveled, before launching at Sokka while he wasn’t paying attention. He grabbed around the boy’s waist and brought him to the ground with an ‘oof!’, the pair roughing it out for a moment before Zuko got the upper hand (Sokka was still laughing too much to put up a real fight). On the ground, Zuko had him trapped in a reverse bear hug, finding an opening near Sokka’s stomach to dig his own fingers in and make Sokka howl.

“Say you’re sorry!” Zuko grunted, trying to avoid a head butt from Sokka’s frantic squirming. “Say it!”

“AAAHH! AAAHAhahaha! I’m–! I’m ssssahahahah!” Sokka cackled, struggling to find the words with fingers digging incessantly into his stomach. Even in his wild state, Sokka could tell Zuko wasn’t very used to this, his tickling-style a little more rough than what he’s used to with the others. But luckily for Zuko, Sokka was a little too ticklish for it to actually affect anything.

“What? You can dish it but you can’t take it?!” Zuko fired back with his usual angry tone, though it was really hard to take seriously when he started pinching at Sokka’s side so viciously. 

“I cahaha–! It’s tooohohohoo–! AAAHH-!" Sokka's screaming laugh echoed through the temple, his head jerking back and forth. Zuko's fingers were getting tired, and this whole thing felt so stupid, but it was the principle of the thing! This is...how it works, right?

Zuko kept tickling despite not really knowing what he was doing, avoiding flailing limbs and a jerking head all the while. And right, right before he was about to just call it quits, he heard a cough from just outside his peripheral.

The pair froze, Zuko feeling his entire face grow warm in the matter of seconds. They both turned their heads slowly to see Suki standing there with her arms crossed, one eyebrow raised in question.

"You two having fun in here?" Suki asked through a smile, clearly on the verge of laughing. Zuko dropped Sokka like a sack of potatoes, standing up quickly with a finger pointed right at Sokka.

“He started this! He attacked me first, but–but I got out! And then he started laughing, and, I mean–it was so stupid! This is so stupid!” Zuko yelled in embarrassment, throwing his hands up to cover his whole face.

Suki giggled and walked over towards her boyfriend on the ground. “Aw, did the big mean firebender get you?” She teased a frowning (and blushing) Sokka. Suki held out her hand to him, “Come on, get up.”

Sokka took it with a scowl, refusing to make eye contact with Zuko. At least, until Sokka remembered how this whole thing started, his whole demeanor lighting up in an instant. “Oh you’ll never believe this. I beat Zuko. In a spar,” he whooped, looking over towards the firebending to find him scowling with his arms crossed. “Actually, it was like ten!”

“Six. It was just six,” Zuko squinted at Sokka in contempt.

“Okay, but six is still a lot compared to your one win,” Sokka boasted, wrapping an arm around his girlfriend.

Suki pulled herself out of his hold, “Uh, sure, but I think after what I saw, Zuko’s still the winner here,” she said, shooting an affirming smile Zuko’s way. 

Sokka dropped his jaw, “What?! But–But I beat him! Like, TONS of times?!” He exclaimed, “And I’m the one that started that! I tickled Zuko first, he totally went down!”

“When I was already pinned!” Zuko argued, angry he couldn’t make his blush fade any faster.

Suki sucked her teeth, “Sokka, if you started this, that’s even worse,” she shrugged. “You cheated. Zuko’s clearly the winner here, he just finished what you started” Suki pat Sokka’s back, shooting Zuko an empathetic look. “Sorry my boyfriend’s so childish. If you ever want a real spar, you know where to find me.”

Zuko looked surprised, really expecting her to tease him like everybody else did. “Oh, uh…yeah, whatever. Sure.”

Suki smiled, taking Sokka by the shoulders and walking him off. Zuko could hear her scolding as they walked away, “Next time we spar, I’ll show you how a real warrior cheats.”

Zuko wasn’t really sure how to take that. In fact, he decided it was probably best to ignore whatever that meant. Instead, he just grabbed his bag and tried forgetting this whole embarrassing mess ever happened.

–

“Zuko, I’m so sorry! I’m so so so sorry, I never meant for this to happen!” Aang practically cried behind Zuko, his words muffled under the hands he used to cover his mouth in guilt. “If you never wanna train me again, I’d understand. I just…I’m so sorry. I’m so—”

“Aang, it’s fine. I already told you it’s fine,” Zuko sighed, propping his bare foot up on the stool of earth Toph made for him. “Believe me, I’ve been burned way worse than this.”

“But that’s different!” Aang cried, falling on his butt to hide his face in his knees. “I can’t believe I burned someone. Again.”

“You’re still learning. It happens,” Zuko winced when Katara took hold of his ankle to get a better look at the burn. “Trust me, I burned a few of my trainers when I was growing up too. It’s just part of firebending. Once you’ve mastered it, you won’t have to worry about it anymore.”

Aang lifted his head with a sniffle. “Yeah…I guess you’re right,” he sighed. “Still feel bad, though.”

“As long as it doesn’t affect your training going further, I really don’t care,” Zuko shrugged, leaning back against his hands.

“That’s a little rude, don’t you think?” said Katara, popping the cork from her water bottle.

“Not really. I don’t care. I’m fine, and Aang will be too,” Zuko said, before gasping as Katara let the healing water wash over his feet. He jerked his foot back off the stool, making Katara raise an eyebrow.

“Zuko?” She looked down at the empty stool. “Kinda need your foot for this.”

Aang lit up, the smile finally returned to his face when he realized with a giggle, “I forgot! Zuko’s ticklish!”

“I am not! It just surprised me!” Zuko argued, throwing his foot back on the stool with confidence (though the pout he sported said otherwise).

Katara snickered, holding her water up so Zuko could see. “Well it’s a good thing you aren’t ticklish then, cause Aang could barely sit still last time I did this to him.”

“Yeah, Toph nearly had to earthbend my hands to the ground to keep me from moving,” Aang nodded, clearly feeling more chipper than a moment ago. Zuko cringed at the thought, shaking his head to clear it from overthinking.

“That will not be necessary,” Zuko huffed. “Just get to it, I’ll be fine. We need to get back to training.”

Katara shrugged, bringing the water to his foot and starting the healing process. Zuko immediately gasped again, his foot nearly jerking off the stool. He caught himself this time, but no one in the room missed the flinch.

Well, except for Toph, but only out of technicality’s sake.

“Your hearts racing, Sparky,” Toph sang, never missing an opportunity to tease their resident grump.

“Shut up, Toph,” Zuko said through bared teeth, straining himself to keep from letting a giggle slip. He squirmed in his seat, toes clenching and unclenching involuntarily. If he can just get through this without cracking, there’ll be nothing for these weirdos to tease him about. He can do this.

“Y’know, you should probably breathe soon. Don’t want you dying on us while I’m healing you,” Katara said, looking up from her water at Zuko’s puffed cheeks and pink face. He’d been too focused to even realize he was holding his breath in the first place. Slowly, Zuko exhaled through his nose before flinching hard again at a more solid sensation in the center of his foot.

“Grrk–!” Zuko jumped, scowling at Katara who started snickering.

“Sorry, my finger slipped,” she grinned, making the other two start giggling at his expense. 

“It’s really okay if you need to laugh, Zuko,” said Aang. “There’s no way I could’ve held it in like you are.”

“I said I’m fine. It doesn’t even…” Zuko huffed, the water finding a particularly sensitive spot right at the worst time possible, making him growl through a giggle. He shut his eyes tight, “Juhust shut up.”

–

At first, his days in the air on Appa were something Zuko wasn’t sure he would ever get used to. He had to admit, it was definitely cool getting to ride a sky-bison thousands of feet in the air after he’d been told his whole life the species had gone extinct with the rest of the air-benders. There was some excitement to it the first couple rides he got to experience.

But after about the fifth time, it was really starting to get old.

“I thought I knew what boredom felt like when I was out camping with Uncle, but this is really something else,” Zuko groaned, throwing his head over the side of the saddle.

“Zukoooo, remember what I keep telling you about the positive attitude?” Aang reminded him from Appa’s head, steering the bison in what felt like the same direction for hours.

“No, he’s right. This is super boring,” Sokka whined, picking at Appa’s fur with a pout.

“Don’t you guys ever, I don’t know…play any games while you’re up here?” Zuko asked, feeling a little silly about it. Playing games was so childish, but it seemed to fit this group’s whole vibe pretty well. Couldn’t hurt to ask, right?

“Yeah we used to, until Toph took it too seriously one time and Katara banned fun,” Sokka shot a look at his sister, who scoffed at the mention.

“Um, I did not ban fun. I banned Pushies,” Katara corrected him with a squint.

“Ah, Pushies. The good ole days when having a laugh wasn’t forbidden by Her Highness,” said Toph, nearly making Katara blow a fuse.

Zuko hated to ask, but this was the most entertained he’d felt in the past two hours. With an incredulous look, he asked, “What’s Pushies?”

“It was the best,” Sokka sighed like he was daydreaming. “Toph and I would push each other back and forth until one of us got too scared and called quits.”

“Which I never did, by the way–”

“Uh, not true! You know you called quits that one time-”

“Because you nearly pushed me off Appa!”

“Not true AGAIN! You couldn’t see it, but you were totally fine-”

“Oh so because I’m blind it’s my fault they won’t let us play Pushies anymore?!”

“That’s not what I meant-!”

“GUYS!” Aang shouted, throwing a stern look over his shoulder towards the group. The pair went silent before both slouching back against the saddle. “No. Pushies.”

They both grumbled to themselves, but ultimately decided it wasn’t worth the fight. Zuko looked to the sky at their bickering, thankful his temper wasn’t like it used to be.

“Games other than Pushies exist, you know. We just have to make one up,” he suggested, sitting criss-crossed to face the group. 

“Did you play any games on that murder-ship you used to ride?” Katara asked with a tone, her mood clearly a bit dampened.

Zuko grimaced, “I was kinda too focused on capturing Aang for games back then.” Zuko sighed, throwing his head and arms back over the saddle to stare into the sky. “Forget it. Let’s just go back to sitting in silence.”

It seemed like the rest of the group agreed, because for the next few minutes that’s exactly what they did. The wind whistling in their ears was the only sound to focus on.

That is, until Zuko felt something tweak his side, making him squeak an awful sound. He whipped his head around to find everyone suspiciously not looking at him. Sokka picked at his fingers, Katara seemed a little too interested in the cloth of her dress, and Toph…well, she looked straight ahead, but that was to be expected.

Zuko fumed, “Who did that?”

Sokka looked up from his fingers, “Hm? Who did what?”

Oh, Zuko was so onto them. Pointing a finger at Sokka with a squint, “Don’t. Do it. Again.” He said sternly, before turning back around towards the sky. Zuko swore he could hear them snickering behind him, but hoped that would be the end of it.

Another minute went by with nothing, and for some reason Zuko really thought he evaded trouble with that intimidation move he pulled. Clearly he didn’t know this group well enough yet.

Another tweak to his side, this one closer to his ribs this time. Anything near his ribs always made him flinch hard, his elbow shooting down to cover the area with a giggly shout. Zuko growled when he faced them, “Seriously, who’s doing this?!” They all looked up at him like they were clueless. He’s gonna kill them. “Answer me!”

Finally, he heard Toph giggle, clearly unaffected by his little hissy fit. “It was me. Both times, actually,” she grinned, throwing a leg over her knee. “What, you gonna do something about it?”

Zuko’s jaw locked forward, feeling like he was breathing smoke out of his nose. His hands clenched beside him, telling himself it would probably not be the “right thing” throwing this twelve year old over the side of Appa.

With a grumble, he fixed his face and looked up to the sun above him. “You people are crazy.” Zuko crossed his arms and slumped against the saddle, decidedly not turning away from Toph this time. Everyone got a chuckle out of that, even Aang.

“No, I think Toph’s the crazy one,” he chuckled, smiling over his shoulder. “The rest of us are pretty normal, right?”

Zuko deadpanned Aang’s way. “No.”

Toph crawled over beside Zuko, who nearly flinched at her presence. “Lighten up, Sparky! Remember what Aang said? Positive attitude?” She accentuated Aang’s words with more tweaks to Zuko’s side, these far more ticklish now that she doesn’t have to hide it. Zuko jumped with a giggly shout, trying hard to hide his side with his elbow, but that just made Toph reach around his back to get his other side.

“Gah-! N-Nohoho!” He complained, pushing at her hands and face. “Quihit!”

“Cmooon I’m bored! This is the most entertained I’ve been in hours!” Toph tickled into Zuko’s ribs as she talked, making him fall over on his side in giggles. He kept pushing at her with his hands, but his stupid body kept betraying him, his elbows shooting down to cover the area too much to really fight back.

“Toph-! Tohohoph!” Zuko squealed, everyone around laughing at his funny noises. These people are the worst. “Gahaha! Get her ohoff mehehe!” He cackled, feeling her fingers vibrate into his ribs and stomach at the same time. Zuko’s eyes were scrunched tight in mirth, feeling silly and stupid and ticklish.

“This is too good. You sound like a girl!” Toph laughed, poking into his side like a typewriter. Zuko couldn’t stop giggling, flipping over on his stomach to crawl away (though he didn’t have much room, cramped on this stupid saddle with the rest of these freaks). He opted for crawling as close to Katara as he could get, praying she’d take pity on him and make Toph stop embarrassing him already.

Katara chuckled, “Okay, I think he’s had enough,” grabbing for Toph’s wrist (her hand still trying to worm it’s way under Zuko’s armpit) Katara pulled Toph away from Zuko as he slumped close to her side panting.

“Aweee, what?! I was just getting started!” Toph whined, making another grabbing motion in Zuko’s general direction that had him flinching with a squeak.

“You heard her, quit it!” Zuko griped, trying to silently maneuver himself as far from Toph as possible without her hearing. It was like a game of cat and mouse, Toph listening for any subtle sound Zuko made for her to launch her free arm in his direction, making him zip out of her reach before she could grab him. 

“Cut it out, this is ridiculous!” Zuko complained, getting behind Sokka and gripping his shoulders like a human shield. “Ha! How ‘bout that, shortstack?!” 

“Hey! Don’t rope me into this–AHH! NO! NONONOHohohoho!!” Sokka fell over on his side in giggles the moment Katara let go of Toph’s arm, the shorter girl launching for his sides.

“This’ll do for now!” Toph cheered, digging into Sokka’s waist with her rough fingers and making him howl. “I’ll catch you eventually, Sparky! Just wait til I’m finished with him!” she grinned wickedly, Sokka losing his mind just below her.

“But you already—! Gah, forget it,” Zuko sighed, crawling silently over beside Katara to hopefully avoid getting involved in that mess again. “She’s ruthless.”

Katara giggled, shooting Zuko a smile, “You get used to it.”

-

Zuko caught himself smiling at dinner. It was weird, usually when he smiled, it felt like an intentional move. Smiling to convince someone he’s happy, or smiling to fake innocence. But tonight…he started smiling before he even realized he was doing it.

Aang was telling some silly story from over 100 years ago, something from his childhood before all this. It was a stupid story, something Zuko would’ve found himself scoffing at if he had heard it even just a few months ago.

But things are good now. He felt good. Happiness came easy to him, like breathing or pulling fire from his hands. Zuko never thought he’d get to feel this again after everything he’d gone through, but these weirdos just had a way with him.

Something about these people, his friends, was always able to make him smile. They were annoying. They’re loud. They’re way too touchy, and always in his personal space. Like now, with Toph curled against his side as she laughed along to Aang’s story.

And yet? Zuko’s come to be okay with that. He’s come to like it about them, as crazy as it sounds. 

The fire he sat in front of now didn’t have to be a threat. It was home.

—

A/N : i was all over the place writing this LMAO hope yall like it anyways cause it was fun to write!! pls consider reblogging if u enjoyed!! <3

#tickle community #tickling #tickle fic #atla tickling #avatar tickling #lee!zuko #ler!aang #ler!katara #ler!toph #ler!sokka #lee!sokka #ticklish!zuko #ticklish!sokka

[kiwi-muses]

Part One Here

It was only a couple of days before his shadow zoomed into his room to alert him that Gwyn was speaking with Bryaxis. It was the middle of the night, and Azriel grumbled as he pulled on his leathers. One of the rare instances where he’d been dead asleep, and Gwyn had to inadvertently ruin it. He made his way into the library, and weaved through the stacks, Gwyn’s voice becoming louder and louder. Azriel silently hid in the shadows, wondering what was so important that it must be spoken of in the middle of the night. 

“Do you sleep at all?” he heard her ask. After a moment in which Bryaxis must have responded, he heard her say, “Well, I suppose in some ways that’s lucky. You get to avoid the issues I have.” She was silent for a moment. “What you said… about my… mate… how did you know?”

Azriel felt his eyebrows raise. Gwyn had a mate? Since when? If Bryaxis spoke of it, perhaps that’s what surprised her the last time. There was an uncomfortable feeling in Azriel’s chest as he thought of Gwyn having a mate, though he couldn’t explain why, exactly. 

“I think I knew when I first saw him, though there was… a lot happening,” she was saying. “But I’ve never told anyone before. I thought maybe I was mistaken.” Her voice was soft. “No, I don’t wish it weren’t so. He’s a good male. Strong and kind.” She paused, listening, and chuckled. “Well, maybe you don’t think so, and I could certainly see why.” The longer Azriel stood there, eavesdropping, the more bizarre the conversation became. And the longer he stood there, the more that uncomfortable feeling in his chest grew. And a piece of him was almost offended for the unknown male. A mating bond was sacred. Why wouldn’t Gwyn tell this male? He became more agitated before deciding he was done for the night. He stepped from the shadows, and saw Gwyn whirl around to see him. She turned back to the pit. “Looks like our visit is over tonight.” She softly laughed again. “I’ll make sure to sing louder for you next time.” She walked towards Azriel, eyes sparkling. He crossed his arms over his chest, cutting an imposing figure. 

“We talked about this, Gwyn.” His voice was low. 

“You mean you talked, Shadowsinger. No one said I agreed.” He let out his breath in a huff. “How long have you been here?”

“Long enough,” he said. 

She tilted her head at him. “You seem… vexed with me, Shadowsinger. Moreso than usual.” Azriel said nothing, turning to escort her back to the dormitories. “You can tell me, you know. Honesty is the best policy and all that.”

Damn him, Azriel couldn’t control it. The words were going to fly out of his mouth whether he wished them to or not. He stopped in the middle of the aisle and turned to her, seeing her waiting face. “You have a mate. Why won’t you tell him? Those bonds… those bonds are rare, and sacred. Don’t you think he deserves to know?”

He felt Gwyn’s eyes on him, studying him. He could almost feel her weighing her words carefully. “There are many reasons I haven’t chosen to divulge the information yet, Azriel.” The use of his given name struck him. She hadn’t used it before. It sounded less like a curse, and more like a caress coming from her. “Some reasons are mine, and mine alone, and maybe I will tell him one day. But I can say,” she took a deep breath, “I have it on good authority that he cares for another. I respect him enough to allow his choices, and I refuse to be chosen solely because of a bond. I’d rather be loved.” Her words struck him in the heart. It was everything he wanted, needed Elain to say and to practice. He needed Elain to want to choose to be loved, to choose him. Gwyn cracked a small smile. “Besides, I’ve met him and he is otherworldly. And I’m just me. He needs someone who he can be proud of.” Gwyn started walking past him, leaving him speechless. This female… he couldn’t figure her out. People were easy to unravel. They were easy to manipulate, to discover inner motives. But not Gwyn. She was a puzzle to him and with each new piece he handed her, he found something new to wonder over. 

“Gwyn,” he called, striding to catch up to her. She looked up at him. “Any male would be lucky to have you as his mate. And if they aren’t proud to have you, they’re not worth your time.” The dazzling smile Azriel received lit something in his heart. 

“Thank you, Shadowsinger.” She smiled, and something in him softened to know he put that smile on her face. 

“Now will you please stop talking to Bryaxis? I don’t trust that it won’t betray you and try to take you.” Gwyn laughed, though what was so funny he had no idea. 

“Bryaxis and I came to an agreement. If I sing while I work, Bryaxis will be content. I won’t have to go near the pit, Shadowsinger.” He felt a weight lift off his shoulders. He had wrestled Bryaxis back into the pit; he knew what Bryaxis could do, the harm it could cause, if provoked. And he wanted Gwyn nowhere near that sort of danger. “I can make my way from here, Shadowsinger. I need to shelve a few books anyways,” Gwyn said.

“Alright,” Azriel said softly. “Goodnight, Gwyneth.” 

“Goodnight, Shadowsinger,” she replied, making her way through the stacks to her books, leaving Azriel to make his way out of the library, pondering the strange feeling Gwyn left him with. A few words and she could coax a smile from him without his notice, or cause his heart to stop in his chest just by having a conversation with a creature. Azriel wasn’t an outwardly emotive male. Inwardly, he felt everything, but a childhood of torture had taught him to effectively wear a mask. One that, somehow, Gwyn made him feel was unnecessary.

#gwyn x az #gwyneth berdara #gwyn x azriel #gwynriel #bryaxis #gwynriel fic #i cant decide if i want to write full fic of this

[justabigassnerd]

Periods and Mood Swings

Pairing - Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell x daughter!reader

Word count - 1,230

Warnings - periods, mentions of blood, fluff

Summary - you have your first period and your dad tries to help

A/N - hey y'all sorry it's been so long since my last fic I'm working as hard as I can to get these fics out for y'all I swear. this was an anon request so I hope I did it justice. I won't ramble so as per y'all please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!!

Since you didn’t grow up with a maternal figure in your life, Carole had made it her goal to be the figure you were missing, however, she often made sure to educate your father, Maverick in the process to make sure he was ready for anything that fatherhood could throw his way.

One of those things being periods.

Carole had sat Maverick down and given him an intense talking to about the importance of making sure you were aware of what a period was and what it meant before you started to have them. She made sure Maverick knew what products to buy and what to expect with your behaviour. By the time Carole’s intensive bootcamp had ended, Maverick was sure that was harder than any training he had done at Top Gun, yet he felt very prepared for what was to come around the time you turned thirteen.

When you reached your teens, you had been thoroughly prepared by your dad for what was to come when you hit puberty. However, your period, while you had been somewhat awaiting its arrival, struck before you could’ve ever been ready. You woke up one morning and were immediately hit by a strong stomach cramp. You suddenly shot out of bed and darted into the bathroom sighing heavily when you saw the patch of blood on your pyjama bottoms. You cleaned yourself up, grabbing the pads and spare underwear you had squirrelled away in your drawer just for an occasion like this and rushing back into your room to get changed into something clean and checking your bed sheets, relieved to see that they didn’t fall victim to your period. Not feeling motivated to put anything more on than a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt with a hoodie, you grab your pyjamas and take them downstairs, putting stain remover on the blood stain and chucking them in the washing machine before starting the wash. You decide that while you’re downstairs you’ll make yourself some breakfast, you pour yourself a bowl of cereal and sit at the kitchen table to eat your food. When you finish you put your empty bowl and spoon into the dishwasher and head into the living room, intending to relax and watch some tv but as you sit down, a wave of cramps overcomes you, forcing you to curl into a ball and squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt to rid yourself of the pain.

By the time Maverick had finally gotten out of bed and made his way downstairs you had resigned yourself to the fate of never being able to leave the sofa, the pain being too much. When Maverick stumbled across you curled up on the sofa, he immediately assumed the worst and was rushing over to your side in seconds.

“y/n, what’s wrong sweetheart?” He asks worriedly, kneeling down and looking you over for any signs of illness or injury.

“Period.” You mumble grumpily into the cushion, the word barely understandable but Maverick managed to hear it clear enough and his eyes soon widened.

“Are you okay?” Maverick asks, regretting his words when you lifted your face enough of the cushion to glare at him.

“Oh yeah dad, I’m doing great! I love feeling like I’m being repeatedly stabbed in my stomach.” The sarcasm was practically rolling off of you in waves and Maverick found himself almost cowering under your gaze.

“Got it, not asking that question ever again.” Maverick mumbles, glancing down at the floor briefly before looking back up at you.

“Is there anything I could do to help?” Maverick then tries asking, watching carefully for your response. He could see you itching to fire another snarky comment his way. He knew he was doing exactly what Carole had predicted. He was panicking, and because of that, he was asking all the wrong questions. He waited with bated breath for the inevitable sassy comment to leave your mouth, but it never came. Instead, you relaxed back against the cushions.

“Could you get me some pain meds? I didn’t think to take any.” You ask, wincing as another cramp shoots through you, your arm winding around your stomach as you curled in on yourself to try and reduce the pain.

“Yes, of course, sweetheart.” Maverick was nodding frantically as he scrambled to his feet and rushed off in search of something to alleviate your pain. He dug through the medicine cabinet until he found the ibuprofen, then rushed to the kitchen to fill a glass with water before bringing the water and medicine to you.

“Here, sit up so you can take it.” Maverick says gently as he helps you sit up so you can take the medicine. Maverick watches as you take the pills quickly, setting the glass down on the coffee table once you’re done with it. Maverick then goes to move to grab the glass and take it back into the kitchen, but you stop him with a hand on his wrist.

“No, stay please.” You request, your mood doing a whole one-eighty from the sass Maverick had briefly been on the receiving end of. Maverick knew he couldn’t deny you anything you wanted, especially when you weren’t feeling a hundred percent because of your first period. Without speaking, Maverick sat back down alongside you, letting you curl into his side, and wrapping an arm around you as you settled your head on his chest, just above his heart.

“Do you want the tv on?” Maverick asks softly, glancing at the tv remote sitting on the arm of the chair alongside him.

“Only if there’s something good on.” You mumble, adjusting yourself slightly to get in a more comfortable position as another cramp attacks you. Maverick turns on the tv, flicking through the channels until he finds a movie that is good enough to have on.

“Sorry for being a little moody with you.” You say after a few minutes of silence, your gaze remaining fixed on the tv as you speak.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Carole warned me about this. It’s like she knew I’d panic and say all the wrong things.” Maverick says with a soft chuckle, hearing you laugh lightly as well.

“Carole does know everything.” You say, smiling as you imagine Carole giving your dad an intense pep talk about everything.

“But you didn’t say anything wrong. My stomach just hurts so bad, and my mood just feels all over the place.” You continue, curling further into your dad’s side as he runs a hand up and down your back.

“Carole prepared me for that. It’s okay. I’ll look after you as best I can. And if I’m ever overstepping or irritating you, tell me.” Maverick says, looking down at you as you look up at him, nodding at his words.

“Thank you, dad.” You whisper, smiling as he presses a soft kiss against the top of your head as you rest your head back on his chest, relaxing in his arms and focusing on the tv and the steady thump of his heartbeat. Unconsciously, you hugged your dad a little tighter as you thought about how grateful you were for him. He wasn’t perfect. Nobody was. But he was doing his best and he was going to be there for you as best he could.

You didn’t doubt his words for a second.

#justabigassnerd #justabigassnerd writes #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun fic #top gun maverick fic #pete maverick mitchell #maverick #pete mitchell #pete mitchell x reader #pete mitchell x y/n #pete mitchell x daughter!reader #maverick x reader #maverick x daughter!reader #pete maverick mitchell x reader #pete maverick mitchell x daughter!reader #pete 'maverick' mitchell #pete 'maverick' mitchell x reader #pete 'maverick' mitchell x daughter!reader #x daughter!reader

[yawntutsyip]

Warnings: none

AN: I felt bad that I deleted this story 😭, I lost all motivation for writing it and I didn’t realize that people actually liked it 🙏😔 forgive me. I’ve been trying to figure out what I’m gonna do for the plot so I think I came up with something I like so hopefully it will go good. I also fixed some grammar mistakes and spelling errors so hopefully it’s all good now mb if there still some

Context: Your father had fallen sick causing you and your mother, along with your father, to move villages. Needing help from the Tsahìk. Ronal discovers that you were interested in learning about herbs and healing she began to take you under he wing teaching you everything she knew as if you were the Tsahìk in training. After she and Tonowari learns that you haven't been able to make friends thought the years you've been in the village she (forces) suggest that you hang out with Ao'nung and his friends hopping that will help.

Ngaytxoa: Sorry , Apologies

Nari si skxawng: watch out moron

Za'u : come here

Kaltxi sa'nu, sempul : Hello mother, father

'itetsyìp : a name for daughter

Mawey: calm down

Irayo: thank you, thanks

Fnu: be quiet

I see you | Chapter One

As (Y/N) grew up she could tell something was wrong with her father, Every week it seemed that he had gotten weaker and weaker.

It had gotten so bad he eventually was on permanent bed rest having to be cared for by her mother at all times.

Having such a close bond with her parents she never left their side unless she had to run an errand for her mother.

Through the years of being by her mother's side and the frequent healers that could come and help, she began to study and learn from them

Taking mental notes and practicing in her own time she learned what things mixed with what, and what you should and shouldn’t use.

It was the only thing that kept the little girl's mind off of the terrible situation.

As time continued to pass, on (Y/N)’s 12th birthday just when it had seemed like everything was getting better and her father had seemed like he was healing just fine

It seemed to immediately shoot back down and he had fallen ill once again now even worse.

His body turned immune to the medicine that he was given.

The girl's mother was deeply frustrated and in pain from seeing her mate in this state.

Her mother began to shut down, hardly talking to anyone and never leaving her mate's side. Focused on one thing which was taking care of her mate, making sure he was getting the help he needed.

When (Y/N) tried talking with her mother she would only reply in short responses. It hurt the poor girl, she now finds herself wishing she had a mother again.

Soon enough the healers decide to talk your mom into traveling to the nearby village where they had more healers and the Tsahik that was able to see what was exactly going on.

It did not take long for your mother to decide on an answer and immediately began packing up bags. (Y/N) could not complain and only helped her mom pack.

Traveling to the village took about a day and by the time the family arrived in Awa’atlu, it was night.

The only light sources were the torches that were scattered around the Marui huts, the bioluminescent plants in the water, and the bright stars that were shining above.

(Y/N) was swimming on an ilu next to her mother who was on her skimwing with your father laid in front of her.

When they had come into the village's view, a loud horn reached their ears announcing their arrival as they continued to move closer.

Finally, they reached the land and immediately her father was carried away by some men, which (Y/N) would assume they were taking him to the healing hut. Her mother quickly followed shortly leaving (Y/N) all by herself.

The little girl stood there unsure of what to do, her mother and father were out of view so there was no way she would be able to find them without getting lost, this village was much bigger than her previous one.

Tears begin to cloud over her eyes piling up, threatening to spill down her aqua cheeks.

This whole journey she tried to put a strong face for her mother and father, she knew they were already dealing with a lot and didn’t want to worry them.

But once her parents were out of sight, that wall that she so bravely built up slowly began to break down.

Tears were now sliding down her face as they dropped into the sand below.

A gentle hand was laid on her shoulder. (Y/N) looked up and with her blurry view she could make out a woman in front of her slowly crouching down.

The woman’s hands move from the girl's shoulder to caressing her cheeks, using her thumbs to wipe the tears that slipped out.

“Hello my child, please do not be sad. Your father is in good care now.” The woman’s words reassured (Y/N). “I am the Tsahik, may I know your name sweetheart?” Ronal asked the small child in a soft voice, afraid of startling her.

“(Y/N)... (Y/N) te Ftxey Aman’ite, Tsahik” She replies shyly with quiet sniffles, using the back of her hand to wipe the tears away from her eyes.

“(Y/N), You have a beautiful name..Let's grab your bags and I will walk you to new Marui. It’ll be close to the healing hut so you can see your parents then.

Ronal smiled and stood up grabbing the bags that were sitting in the sand. Ronal swung some of the bags over her shoulder and then looked back at (Y/N) who was doing the same actions.

Ronal reaches her hand out to the little girl, (Y/N) hesitated at first, I mean after all this was a stranger, but then grabbed the Tsahik’s hand, and they began to walk further from the water and into the village.

“You will like it here, I promise”

"Ngaytxoa Tsahìk!" You said to the older woman once you had arrived in the healing pod where there stayed your father along with some other injured and sick members that the healers were helping with.

On the way to the pod one of the aunties had asked you for help with carrying a basket of dried kelp for weaving and it took a little longer than you thought.

"It's alright (Y/N), as long as you're here now. I have a list of herbs I need you to collect for me really quick and then we began the lessons" Ronal said as she was finishing wrapping a younger boys arm then proceeds to grab a list off the table handing it out to you.

"Of course, I will be back shortly!" You say smiling, grabbing the list before leaving the pod.

You began to walk down the paths to collect herbs from where ever they stay. Some were different fruit and roots where you had to scavenge for and others were stuff you could get from different farmers around the island.

Once you finished you waved bye to the farmers with your filled basket you had been carrying, having all the herbs from Ronal's list in it, making your way back to the Tsahìk.

On your way back you stop for a second as you watched some of the Metkayina girls the same age hanging out together, some were braiding each others hair while others were talking probably gossiping about the newest drama that had rumored around the village.

You let out a sigh with a small frown.

You wanted to make friends but it was as if they avoided you like you were the plague.

You hung out with Tsireya a couple times but her other friends always pulled her away from you or Tsireya was busy taking her own lessons from her mother so you guys never had an actual hang out without someone coming to interrupt.

Shrugging off the sad feeling that began to rise, you begin to continue your way back.

As you were about to walk in the pod you accidentally runs into someone almost falling back at the impact.

Catching yourself, you stands straight and looks at the person you ran into about to apologize before your eyes widen as you realizes who it was.

It was one of the girls who Tsireya was always hanging out with.

"Ngaytxoa.. I didn't see you there." You say say embarrassed and looks down as if the ground was the most fascinating thing.

The girl could only scoff in annoyance and roll her eyes not bothering to pay attention to you before walking off muttering some words that you just barley heard purposely hitting your shoulder with hers.

"nari si skxawng"

You could only brush it off and continue to walk inside.

"Tsahìk I'm back! I have all the stuff you asked for." You announced as you pushes past the door to the table about to set down the basket.

"za'u (Y/N), with the basket" Ronal motioned as she was sat down on a mat with Mortar and pestle in front of her along with some water.

Turning back around you follow the orders and sets the basket down by the Tsahìk before sitting in front of her.

"Let's get to work shall we?" You could only nod her head and with that Ronal began to teach you.

"Alright, thats enough for today. Did you understand everything?" The older woman asked while standing up with the new paste you both had just made in a bowl

"Yes, thank you for teaching me" you say responding before helping Ronal clean up.

"Do you want me to walk with you back to your Marui?"

"No, I'm gonna stay here for a little bit. Thank you." And with that Ronal nodded as her eyes softened with her smile faltering before leaving the healing pod back her to own Marui.

You let out a weary sigh before walking to the back of the pod to a more secluded area where he father stayed.

"Kaltxi sa'nu, sempul" You greet your parents knowing you wouldn't get a response back, only a small nod of acknowledgment from your mother who had her back towards you while laying a new cloth on your fathers forehead.

"how is he doing?" You crouch down next to your mother sitting on your knees as you observe.

After a long pause of quietness, your mother finally spoke up looking at her daughter.

"he's getting better now, thanks to you and the Tsahìks help" Aman (her mothers name) spoke to her daughter as she reaches forward and brushes a stray hair behind your ear before caressing your cheek.

You could only lean into your mothers touch.

Aman had gotten better at talking to her daughter again after the Tsahìk had scolded her for not paying attention, neglecting, her own child. She needs a reality check.

"It's getting late, you should head back to our Marui" Aman spoke to you bringing back her hand before checking on her mate once again.

"Will you be coming back with me this time? You asked with hope in your eyes that her mother would finally come home for once but once yoy looked at your mothers face with a sadden expression, you knew it wasn't going to happen.

"I'm sorry 'itetsyìp. Not tonight.."

You say nothing and nod. You got up and gave your parents both a quick peck on the cheek before leaving making your way back to your family's Marui.

You could feel tears fill your eyes but you refused to let them fall wiping them with the back of your hand letting out a shaky sigh.

Before you reached the Marui a hand landed on your shoulder startling you causing you to jump letting out a quiet yet loud shriek.

"Woah, mawey (Y/N)!" A familiar female voice said as you turned around to see Tsireya.

"Sorry for startling you, my mother asked me to grab you to have dinner with us! My father and Ao'nung had caught some extra fish and we can't eat it all~ come on" Tsireya said while grabbing your arm locking it with hers not waiting for an answer before pulling you in the direction of their Marui pod.

The two girls reach the pod and Tsireya walks in holding the door open for (Y/N) to walk in.

You mutters a quiet thank you giving the girl a smile before greeting everyone that was now sitting down getting ready to eat.

"Irayo Tsahìk, Olo'eyktan for having me over."

"No worries (Y/N) come in sit down next to Ao'nung" Ronal says smiling before telling Ao'nung to scoot over to make more room to which he only rolled his eyes before moving.

You sit down and everyone began to eat while the family made small talk with eachother while you just stayed quiet listening, only talking if they asked for an opinion or a question.

While eating you swear you could feel a burning gaze watching you, when you lifted your head and turn you meet Ao'nung's eyes staying back into yours.

Waiting for his eyes to pull away he never did and continued to stare, with what look in his eye? You couldn't exactly tell but you swore there was an extra sparkle.

Finally getting the hint he wasn't going to back down you quickly look away with blush creeping on your cheeks and continue to eat.

"(Y/N) have you been making any friends, you know the girls that Tsireya hangs out with?" Ronal asks looking at her causing all of them to go quiet and listen.

"Uh...well..not exactly...I guess they are always busy when I try and hang out with them.." you says now playing with your food in awkwardness.

"What? Tsireya I thought I told you to take in (Y/N) and make sure she was not being left out" Ronal questions her daughter in disappointment.

"Well...Ngaytxoa sa'nu...I thought they were hanging out with (Y/N). Ngaytxoa (Y/N)" Tsireya frowns upset that her friends weren't being nice to you.

"It's alright, I don't really need to hang out with them anyways I'm good with just hanging around with you Tsahìk" you could only smile reassuring the family theses no need to worry.

"Nonsense! (Y/N) you are still a kid. As much as I like having your company You need to go hang out with people your own age sometimes." Ronal replies to you.

"Why don't you hang out with Ao'nung and Rotxo! Rotxo is a good boy. Very respectful and I'm sure Ao'nung would be happy to have you hang out with him, right Ao'nung?!" Tonowari speaks up looking at Ao'nung.

Ao'nung's mouth is open astonished that his father even suggested that. "What? Why does she have to-"

Before he could finish his sentence his mother interrupts him with a harsh glare making him immediately shut up.

"Right Ao'nung?" Ronal says smiling yet still glaring at the poor boy who could only nervously avoid his mothers fiery gaze.

"Yes. She can hang out with us tomorrow..." he grumbles out shoving the last bit of food in his mouth no longer paying attention to the conversation that was going on.

"See (Y/N) there you go, You have some people to hang out with." You could only smile with a nod before going back to eating.

A little bit later everyone was finally done eating you began to help Tsireya clean up the plates.

"(Y/N) you don't have to help Tsireya. Ao'nung will walk you to your Marui" Tonowari told you with a hand on your shoulder grabbing the dishes that were in her hands.

"Oh no it's alright-" (Y/N) began to speak but was cut off with Ronal shaking her head telling you no before pushing you toward the door where Ao'nung stood muttering words under his breath that you couldn't make out.

"Okay then...goodnight, thank you for having me over for dinner" You smiled waving bye to them as you exits the Marui with Ao'nung following behind.

You and Ao'nung walk to your Marui in silence.

While you were in your own world thinking to yourself , you didn't notice a certain boys eyes on you.

Ao'nung couldn't help it, He found the Metkayina girl beautiful. But the boys ego was too high for him to talk to you and confess his attraction.

He could only play it off with being annoyed. I mean it sorta annoyed him. He never had a full conversation or even looked at you straight in the eyes..So why was he attracted to you so much. It made him frustrated.

He remembered the first time seeing you was when he got in an argument with another Metkayina boy that resulted in flying fist and so there he sat with a bloody lip and a cut on his cheek.

And out of all the healers he gotten (Y/N) to patch him up. The whole time she was making the paste she never said a word and he was thankful because the last thing he needed was another person asking what happened.

When it came to the girl applying the paste all he could think about was how her soft hands gently applied it to his cheek muttering apologies as he hissed from the sting.

But if he was being honest the butterflies in his stomach distracted him more.

He didn't realize until she was done that he had been admiring her face. Staring mostly at her darker aqua marking that were scattered framing your face, and the bioluminescent freckles sprinkled all over. How her hair was done in traditional Metkayina style (picture whatever you like) and it complemented her well.

Ao'nung snaps out of his thoughts and comes to a halt as you both stand in front of your empty Marui.

"Thank you, I'm sorry for causing you trouble.. I can just say that I'm busy tomorrow so I don't have to hang out with you" You say thanking him as you shyly stare at the ground.

While Ao'nung wanted to tell you 'no don't be! I actually want to hang out with you and get to know you' before he could think, all that came out was a

"Fnu" Ao'nung shouted and it came out a lot harsher than he meant. His eyes slightly widen with his ears lowering in embarrassment.

It made you jump a little taken back from how harsh his words came at you.

"Ngaytxoa. I'll see you tomorrow." Ao'nung said, this time in a softer voice. And with that he quickly walked away back to his Marui pod and you enter yours.

Yet another sigh of disappointment left your lips as you rub your face in frustration.

'Alone once again..'

#atwow #avatar the way of water #atwow x reader #atwow imagine #avatar x reader #aonung x reader #ao’nung #ao'nung x reader #☆ — ao’nung ˖˚⊹

[onceuponapuffin]

Fanatic Intervention Part 9!!

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

You pound your way to the nearest bar, where everyone had agreed to meet. The three of them are standing around, talking over glasses of wine. Your hands are in fists, your nails digging into your palms as you approach. They acknowledge you as you enter their field of vision, but you say nothing. Instead, you beeline for Aziraphale, put your arms around him, and hang on for dear life. Sometimes you just need to hug an angel.

There’s a pause where Anathema says something about your aura, and then Aziraphale hugs you back.

Dear Reader, I’m not sure if it ever happened in your life, but for this Puffin there came a time when it was made very clear that wanting to be held or wanting to lean on another person in public was unacceptable (and, in fact, embarrassing) once you reached a certain age. And yet, we as humans are social creatures. The need to be held is a very normal response, especially after something particularly upsetting happens (like having the sanctity of washroom privacy violated, for example). Perhaps you’re not the kind of person who, out of nowhere, feels the desire to be held, but perhaps you know someone who is. And so, I would like to impress upon you the incredible difference it makes, the immeasurable relief it brings, to know that you have someone with you who will hold you back without question or comment. Just hold you, and wait.

Aziraphale makes it clear he intends to do just that.

“Take your time, dear,” he says gently. And so you do.

After a moment, the clink of a glass next to you makes you look up. Someone has given you a glass of the same wine everyone else has. You pull away and take a sip, feeling much calmer and very grateful.

“Thanks,” You say.

“Anytime,” Aziraphale replies.

“What happened?” Anathema asks.

Thus, you recount how Metatron trapped you in the washroom until he had said his peace. By the time you finish, there are three very angry faces around you. You feel validated enough to take another, much larger, sip of the wine. Aziraphale is the first to speak.

“Well for starters, I invite you to stay in my bookshop however long you like. Pet indeed! You are a help, yes, but you are a guest, and certainly not disposable, whatever he says.”

“And,” Crowley adds, “From what you said, Aziraphale and I can get you home whenever you want anyway. Probably, I mean. No dUbIOus motives involved, at least.”

Anathema seems to be thinking. After another few seconds, she asks:

“Why did you take the coffee?”

You all look at her, surprised.

“Well I mean,” she continues, “If the Metatron wants to know, he probably has a reason. If you tell us, maybe we can figure it out for ourselves and find a way around it.”

“Or they could just not tell him,” Crowley suggests with snark. “Then it doesn’t matter.”

“I mean, it might,” Anathema counters, “We don’t know that it doesn’t.”

“I took it because of the Coffee Theory,” You say with a shrug. It’s not like it’s a big deal. “But I mean, I don’t know why that would matter to him.”

“Well,” Anathema says, “That might depend on what the Coffee Theory is.”

“Well, it’s the idea that the Metatron did something to that coffee he was going to give Aziraphale. To, like, make Aziraphale trust him, or listen to him or whatever, so that he would go back to Heaven.” You pause. “There’s also an interpretation of it where it was a metaphor like ‘take my offer or face death.’ But most people think about the first one, and that’s the one that was in my brain when I did it. There aren’t a lot of people who actually believe it. I mean, not anymore, anyway.”

“So you think the Metatron drugged Aziraphale’s coffee?” Anathema raises an eyebrow. “And you drank it, yes? So...did he?”

“No,” You reply, “It was exactly what it was supposed to be. An oat milk latte with almond syrup. And I didn’t think he actually messed with it. I just wasn’t willing to take the chance, that’s all.”

Crowley’s face scrunches. “And you think he might need to know that for some reason?” He looks pointedly at Anathema.

“He might,” She gives a thoughtful hum. “I’ll think about it. I might ask the Cards later.”

-----------

The wait for boarding didn’t feel so long after that. As you board, you notice how spacious First Class is. Aziraphale and Crowley sit in the seats ahead of you and Anathema, with Aziraphale in the window seat. You notice Crowley casually trying to stick his legs out into the aisle and wonder vaguely whether it’s because he needs the space, or to try and trip the flight attendants. Both? Probably both. Okay, definitely both, you note, as a stewardess almost falls face-first into the aisle. Aziraphale gently swats at Crowley in reprimand, but you can tell it’s half-hearted and wholly-fond.

Your only trouble comes when you need to use the washroom, but Anathema, ever clever and aura-observant, suggests to go with you so that you can knock if anything goes wrong. Thankfully, nothing does, and you both return to your seats.

“You know,” Anathema says, leaning forward, “I just overheard the strangest thing. It seems that all of the normal airline food on this plane has gone missing. All that they have to serve is the first-class food.”

“Wait,” You say, holding back a laugh, “So everyone on this flight gets to eat the fancy, chef-prepared, gourmet meals?”

Crowley doesn’t hold back his laugh. “Oh, the big bosses won’t like that!”

“You two wouldn’t have had anything to do with that, would you?” Anathema asks suspiciously. You notice she’s smiling while she says it.

“Psh!” Crowley waves away the thought. “Why would I? Doesn’t matter to me either way.”

“Honestly, Miss Device,” Aziraphale adds, “I have no idea why you immediately accuse us of something that seems so clearly to be a mere...clerical error.”

Ah-ha! Culprit found. Clerical error your arse.

“You know,” You sigh, “It really is no wonder why Crowley loves you so much.”

“Ngk,” says Crowley. Aziraphale responds with a pleased-sounding hum. You relax, and notice between the seats that Aziraphale places his hand on top of Crowley’s and leaves it there.

They like holding hands – your insides scream.

--------

When you disembark from the plane, you hear all the other passengers around you complimenting the flight attendants on the excellent food and promising to leave excellent reviews online. You keep your laughter as quiet as you can. Aziraphale’s little prank is going to cause the airline issues for YEARS. Crowley must be so proud.

The speed and ease with which you clear customs and baggage claim is probably because you’re traveling with two supernatural entities. In no time at all, you’re outside of the airport flagging down a cab. Crowley opens the door with enthusiasm and outright glee.

“After you, Angel,” he says, “You think 90 miles an hour in London is bad, I can’t wait for you to see this!”

Dear Reader, I don’t know if you have ever been to New York City, but I assure you that Crowley’s driving has nothing on the NYC cabbies. Aziraphale spends the entire drive trying to hold on to something and taking deep breaths as the cab violently jerks to a stop millimeters from the car in front. You suggest he close his eyes. He does. It doesn’t seem to help.

-------

The taxi lets you out in front of The Ritz. Because of course you’re staying at The Ritz. Aziraphale goes to check in while Crowley tells Anathema he needs the washroom, and mutters to you that he wants to empty all the soap dispensers. You try so hard to hold in your laughter that it comes out your nose anyway. The demon flashes you a cheeky grin before disappearing around the corner. Anathema looks at you.

“Probably been a while since he had a fresh audience,” You say to her. She chuckles.

“And you’re so obliging too. No doubt he’s having a great time with all this.”

“Hey, Anathema,” You begin uncertainly, “How...I mean...I’m just worried about...things. How are we going to find Jesus anyway? I just...I don’t really have anymore information to give. I don’t even know if he’s going to be a baby or an adult this time.”

“Hm...” Anathema thinks for a minute, “Well, I’m going to try and get some readings, see if I can get some kind of direction for us to go in. It’s a big country, but what I’m hoping is that it will sort of work like dowsing.”

“Dowsing? Like looking for water with sticks?”

“Sort of. In a nutshell, you pay attention to the vibrations in the Earth, and the closer you get, the stronger the vibrations become. It makes sense to think that Jesus would make pretty noticeable vibrations. That’s my working hypothesis anyway.”

You nod. That will do for now. Aziraphale and Crowley both return, with the demon wiping his hands on his trousers, and the four of you take the elevator to your room.

The Royal Suite.

“Are...you….serious??” Anathema asks. Honestly, you’re too stunned looking around the enormous suite with four bedrooms to say anything. It’s bigger than most houses. You take out your phone and start taking pictures.

“Well, if we’re going to stay at The Ritz,” Aziraphale says cheerfully, pronouncing the capital letters, “Best to do it Properly.”

“But this is ridiculous!”

Aziraphale isn’t paying attention anymore. He’s gone to tell Crowley not to draw mustaches on the expensive artwork.

“Unlimited resources,” You say to her, “Make for expensive taste.”

“No, kidding,” she sighs, “I’m glad you’re here. I’m gonna need some help with these two.”

Ha, You think to yourself, I knew it.

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤

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^ If you want to see JUST how ridiculous the royal suite is.

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #good omens 2 #good omens fanart #someone said this counts as art #so i'm using the fanart tag #so nyeah #good omens fandom #aziracrow lasts forever #aziraphale x crowley #crowley likes showing off #especially if he knows there's someone there to appreciate his skillz #that's skillz #with a z #fanatic intervention #part 9 #poll fic #let's write #we're all in this together #fix it #go2 #i rode in a cab in nyc once it was terrifying #anathema #crowley and aziraphale #good omens 3 #writeblr #writers on tumblr

[1-800-c0sm1c]

Hey!! Sorry if I’m doing this wrong I am new to this kinda stuff but do u mind writing headcanons on how the p5 phantom thief boys would take care of the reader when they’re on their period? If not it’s fine!

꒰baby im yours !꒱

p5 boys when their s/o is on their period headcannons !

character x afab!reader

includes joker, ryuji, yusuke, and akechi !

warnings : mentions of periods, obviously lol

a/n : its shark week for yours truly so i thought now is the best time to write this :D i wasnt sure what gendered reader you wanted, so i just decided to leave it as afab, hope thats alright :))

JOKER // REN AMAMIYA

maybe this is biased, but i feel out of everyone on this list hes the most prepared.

like, hes not overbearing but he knows just enough to spare you both any awkward conversations.

he doesnt have any feminine products in his bathroom since its technically shared with leblanc customers and he doesnt want to embarrass you or anyone else, but you know theres always a few of whatever you need in his school bag or his dresser!

hes a very calm person, which can be very relieving, especially when you accidentally bleed on something.

you both were hanging out one day after school, and when you got up off of his bed to go make some food, you noticed a red spot on the sheets.

you were internally freaking out, trying to figure out what to do knowing how some guys tend to find it gross, while ren literally just comments "dont worry about it, i needed motivation to do laundry anyways." and asks if you need anything.

you feel like youve just been given whiplash, no way thats it, hes so cool with it?

he even gives you a pair of his boxers and sweatpants since you bled through your clothes, and when you come out of the bathroom hes got a steaming hot cup of coffee and some chocolates on the counter all ready for you. <3

SKULL // RYUJI SAKAMOTO

confused, embarrassed, and a little bit (a lot) dramatic. he tries to act like its not a big deal, but in reality he doesnt really know anything about periods, and hes convinced youre secretly in a lot of pain. (which i mean, you could be depending on cramps… but you get what i mean.)

hes horribly uneducated on this topic, and definitely the worst person to be stuck with when you start. 

hes calling ann asking her to explain what to do with the reddest face youve ever seen. 🧍

ryuji definitely thought it was a little gross at first too, but once he understood it was just a normal thing your body did he felt more okay about it.

hes trying super hard to be a good boyfriend, but hes stuttering over his questions. barely able to ask you if he needs to get you anything.

i swear his eyes almost popped out of his head when you said all you wanted was for him to shut up and cuddle with you. 💀💀

he tries to be there for you as much as possible, but if you tend to get more angry, just note that hell try to stay away a bit. 

he has issues keeping his temper under control, even when it comes to you, and he doesnt want to start any unnecessary arguments.

at the end of the day, communication is key when it comes to you guys relationship, he just wants whats best for both of you!

FOX // YUSUKE KITAGAWA

yusuke has probably never felt the touch of another human being before you so hes very… confused to say the least.

what do you mean youre bleeding? and its normal? this happens monthly? his mind is blown.

i dont see him being weird in the way he wants to use your period as inspiration for a painting, but weird in the way that hell track it.

maybe this just a personal thing who finds it weird when a guy wants to track when your on your cycle, but it seems right up yusukes alley 😭.

hes a little strange, and he just wants to help! but he also doesnt really know what hes doing, so his presence can be a bit overwhelming.

gets pouty when you end up snapping at him, but once you explain why hes a lot more aware of how much hes bothering you.

hes also willing to get you whatever you need, as long as youre buying.

one time you had asked him to get you pads/tampons, and he called you 30 minutes later saying that he didnt have any money…

however, unlike someone else on this list, hes not embarrassed about it. more so genuinely curious, as he loves learning about you and he thinks its important to know how your body works!

hell probably draw you something nice as well if it makes you feel better. :)

CROW // GORO AKECHI

oh boy, akechi sure is a character. and i think with him it depends.

usually though hes just a pretty average guy. hes not stupid, but he also isnt the best at understanding your emotions, or his own, for that matter.

youre in public, akechi talking to one of the tv hosts after hes finished appearing on a show, and you gently tug on his jacket to let him know you started your period, and need the restroom. 

hes conflicted, whats supposed to come first, you or his reputation? when it comes to him, he makes any simple situation way more complicated in his head.

he makes an eternal sacrifice to shoo away the people talking to him, and he quickly takes off his jacket to wrap it around your waist. you both find a bathroom nearby and he paitently waits for you outside.

when you walk out, he offers to pick up whatever you may need (including some food) and take you home.

at your front door, he kisses your cheek, but cant help but noticed the nervous expression on your face.

its only then when you mention that akechis jacket is, in fact, a light color, and is most definitely stained now with bright red blood. his face goes blank, and youre worried for a second he might be mad.

he only shrugs at that, same detective prince smile as always, and jokes that youre paying for his dry cleaning.

#✧;;↬ my work.❞┊🍓 #✧;;↬ baton pass.❞┊🪄 #✧;;↬ 1 more.❞┊🎭 #persona 5 #persona 5 x reader #shin megami tensai persona #persona #joker x reader #ryuji sakamoto x reader #joker x you #ryuji sakamoto x you #yusuke kitagawa x reader #yusuke kitagawa x you #goro akechi x reader #goro akechi x you #fox persona 5 #skull persona 5 #crow persona 5 #joker persona 5

[cloveroctobers]

DECEMBER PROMPTS 🧊 — 4. NERON “CREEPER” VARGAS

A/N: idea inspired by a required outing for me and encouraged by @darqchilddaydreamz 🤭 this is so unserious but not at the same time? I also don’t like how I learned to appreciate creeper after the fact? This is my first time ever writing for the man with a heart of gold. Smh. Him and Coco deserved better and in AU…Creeper & Coco would be the true besties. This is also somewhat that. Enjoy!

Synopsis: As a pizza chef you’re bound to keep your house just as stocked as your restaurant. However with a ice storm heading your way in two days…you persuade your husband, Neron to take you to the store to grab just a few extra things but soon find yourself in a battle with another shopper, who doesn’t know the first thing about personal space.

ADDED PROMPTS FROM HERE + I’m using: 3.) Shopping + 6.) “You’re really making me wear matching pajamas with you?”

WARNINGS: language + “reader” is given a name but not physically described yet I always have a black or woc in mind. + a sexual/steamy moment towards the end ;)

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙

What was supposed to be more of a in and out kind of thing, turned into at least a thirty minute adventure. Sure Mariatu could blame it on the tasteful playlist the grocery store was playing—currently, “let it snow,” by Boyz II Men & Brian McPetty but she’d take the blame when she got back outside to her husband.

The original plan was to run in and get five items: a pack of mineral water full of electrolytes for Neron, a pack of cocoa powder, eggs, toilet paper rolls, and disinfectant wipes.

With the way prices are in this economy?

Mariatu knew it was probably best for Neron to run in grab everything but he suddenly got a call from Coco that had to do with business—which the founded brothers always stood on—so she did the honors of slipping out. She honestly didn’t mind, shopping was always thrilling to her because she knows regardless of what she picked up—whether she needed it or not—the items would always be put to good use. Mariatu was never one to let anything go to waste, it was something her parents always instilled.

Perhaps that’s why the carriage was getting heavier as she explored every other aisle, ending up in the international section, just for some lady to eye the contents of her carriage before settling her judgmental eyes on Mariatu. Their eyes connected but one was less friendly than the other, which was enough for Mariatu to pick up the speed. The previous aisle was more of a game of “chicken,” since one boulder of a man thought the aisle was a one way, the frozen section had one of its fridges leaking onto the floor and the constant call to, “clean up aisle 21,” seemed to go unheard, and just from entering the store a mother had to excuse herself and her screaming child who thought it would be best to start knocking over one of the displays.

Those should have been enough signs for Mariatu to do what she was supposed to do. Although the upbeat Christmas music was enough motivation to just make this a speed round, Mariatu couldn’t help that she spent longer than expected; even if she had a mental list of what they needed. Soon she found herself making a circle in the store towards the organic and produce section.

Eyeing the pomegranate seeds, Mariatu makes a bee-line for the fruit. Parking her carriage upwards from herself, she picks up the container eyeing the expiration date and then the quality of the red toned fruit. From her peripheral she sees someone leaning by the front of her carriage. She thinks not much of it figuring that they’re simply looking at a item that aligns with the end of her carriage. Silently debating over the snack for a moment longer, she opts for the larger pack instead before adding it to the carriage.

Seconds after, the handle of her carriage digs harshly into her stomach as the customer pushes their hip into the end of the carriage to reach for a bag of jumbo grapes. Mariatu blinks to herself in astonishment as the man holds the bag up to the light and moves his hips to do the same movement again!

This time Mariatu yanks on the carriage and goes around the man but not without muttering, “this is how you say excuse me,” on her way as she continues on up ahead. Eyeing the bag of baby spinach, she decides against it after grabbing a few green juices not long ago and just as she goes to push away from the section, she can hear the irritating sound of a broken carriage wheel pushing behind her.

Ever since Mariatu was a little girl she had great senses. Some may call it a gift while others maybe oblivious but she’s almost always right in judging distances and sensing presences that may or may not physically be there. In this present time as Mariatu is briefly glancing from the cart to make sure she’s not forgetting something and watching where she’s going, she can feel and hear the carriage behind her getting too close for her liking. Just as she’s reaching the corner, she peers over her shoulder to the pale as ice skinned man with a beanie that barely covers his thin salt colored hair and in that moment they come to some sort of understanding.

His shoulders relax, his lips pursed, grip still strong on the handle, he seems to slow down as his eyes connect with Mariatu’s. The side-eye game was always strong and she whips her head back, ringlets of curls bouncing with her underneath her beret as she does, a satisfying smile begins to grace her lipstick painted lips while she gets ready to turn the corner.

That’s short lived as a bump of the carriage from behind pressed into her backside first, thrashing her forward, followed by the knocking wheel which clips her ankle. A yelp escapes her lips, gaining the attention of a cashier who’s handling the handicap section and Mariatu has to exhale the steam that’s probably seeping from her eardrums.

Rubbing at the stinging skin above her ankle socks in her trainers, she glares at the older man who looks sheepish at the fact that his carriage actually interacted with his target.

“What’s your problem? You bump my carriage out of the way instead of using your manners, which you clearly lack and now you wanna play bumper cars with my ankle?” Mariatu questions the man who lifts his shoulders nonchalantly.

“I needed grapes,” the man started, “you could have done what I did and placed your carriage to the right so that way you’re not blocking other items that fellow customers need.”

Mariatu scoffs in disbelief, “well I’m not you and the proper thing to do if you need to get something is say excuse me or patiently wait until I’m done.”

“Sorry…but no?”

“No?” Mariatu felt her eye twitch and just to think, she was having a pretty solid day off, considering it was only twelve in the afternoon but still!

“Yeah,” the man continued, “you’re in my way and I have places to be too. Don’t know if you know this but a ice storm is coming and I need—

“Excuse me, I don’t give two shits what you need. Everybody that’s in here needs something, so honestly you can take that entitlement and shove it up right your ass, Mr.” Mariatu stated to the man without raising her voice but her brows definitely did, which means she meant that shit, “and happy holidays.”

With that she sorta limps from the man, enjoying that she had the last say and that his presence was no longer felt as he scrambles to go to one of the other aisles instead of to the self-check out area, which Mariatu was headed to.

Mariatu braced herself heading back into the breezy sixty degree weather, slowly letting out a sigh to herself as she crossed through the parking lot. She spots Neron waiting outside of her bronco and jumps into action as he looks up in time. “Ten minutes huh?” He teases with a shake of his head as he unlocks the trunk.

She scrunches her nose at him as they maneuver around the cart, taking turns adding the bags into the back. It doesn’t take Neron long to pick up on the way Mariatu is walking different once they get down to the the last few bags. “What’s up?” He asks.

Mariatu shakes her head as Neron points at her leg, “I’ll tell you in the car.”

The hoodie wearing man dips his head and takes the task of bringing the carriage back to its spot after opening the door for Mariatu. Neron doesn’t miss a certain man looking over in his wife’s direction as Neron crosses the parking lot one more. Once he gets into the driver’s seat, it’s Neron’s turn to have his eyes in slits as the strange man starts tossing his bags into his station wagon.

“That man with the pedophile car…you know ‘em?”

Mariatu hums, looking up from her phone to follow Neron’s trail and immediately scoffs, “oh yeah, we got friendly not too long ago. That’s the man who tried to run me over after I told him he basically needs to learn some manners.”

Neron flicks his eyes to his right, “what happened?” He pressed and Mariatu has no issue giving her husband the quick rundown of what just occurred.

He’s rubbing at his lengthy beard in slight irritation but also pride. “Put your seatbelt on,” he commands and Mariatu tilts her head to the side at this.

However the hardened stare Neron shoots her way and then back out the window shield was enough for her to listen this time. The tatted man places one hand on the steering wheel, tightening his grip and sitting up straight—which was always enough indication that someone was about to float their ride…so Mariatu braced herself.

Rightfully so.

As soon as she blinked, they were across the parking lot blocking the man’s path from completely backing out from the parking space.

“Neron,” Mariatu hissed as he pressed his brimmed hat further down on his head then flung the door open, leaving it wide open as he walked in between the cars to get to the man’s driver’s side, knocking on his window.

Mariatu couldn’t exactly hear what Neron was saying to the strange man as he was crouched over, talking to him in a manner that would send a chill down anyone’s spine. Her heart rate picked up as she saw Neron reach into the rolled down window, possibly snatching the man up by the throat and then shoving him forward that his horn announced his face made contact with it.

With that Neron sniffs as he turns back to the bronco, holding a bag now as he climbs back into the driver’s seat. He plops the bag of grapes into Mariatu’s lap and says, “Poe Cramer sends his apologizes. Eat up.”

“Neron, what did you do that for? I thought I told you that I handled it.” Mariatu brings her eyes up from the fruit in her lap to the profile of her husband’s face who begins driving through the parking lot.

Neron dips his head, “and I’m proud of you, Cariño. But he assaulted you so I returned the favor. Roughed him up a bit, he’s lucky that’s all he got and that’s out of respect for my lady being somewhat a witness…that I didn’t take it further. got his name from his license—just in case you run into him again and he decides to start some more shit but I doubt it. I clocked his ass—that’s all. No harm, no foul.”

“I can’t,” Mariatu snorts resting a hand against her edges, “I love you and I don’t need you locked up before Christmas.”

“I’m just contributing to society so I know Santa would forgive me,” Neron shrugs with a slow smirk appearing on his lips.

Mariatu laughs, “Oh that’s what you want to call it?” Before kicking her ankle up and over her opposite knee to examine, “don’t know why some people get so shitty during the holiday season, especially if you didn’t do anything wrong to them! They just feel like it’s okay to take it out on strangers. Like? What you say fuck me for?”

“You don’t even gotta worry about him no more, trust me,” Neron laughs at the joke, “you good though?”

Mariatu nods reaching over to feed Neron a grape before pecking his cheek, “always with you by my side, baby.”

“Likewise,” Neron winks over at the woman he was ecstatic to call his wife, resting the palm of his hand on her thigh.

Back in the gated, yes gated! suburbs of their coastal mobile home after unloading and packing the groceries, the married couple made it their mission that today would be a easy day. They rarely had days off at the same time so Neron and Mariatu wanted to take advantage of this with Mariatu persuading Neron to go shopping today rather than putting it off for the busiest day—Saturday. Now they had the rest of the day just to be up in each others faces, spending quality time together.

She’s in the bathroom, tending to her night time skin routine, already solidifying they were in for the rest of the day, while Neron’s perched on the edge of the bed tuned into the weather channel. The bathroom door’s wide open as Neron says, “you know your pa is trying to get coco and I to come out to Wyoming, huh?”

Mariatu frowns, “that’s where he snuck off to? The hell is he doing out there?”

The woman knew exactly what her father was doing out there. He made it a mission to travel more after the lost of his wife three years ago but…Wyoming? Really? Very Kanye coded but a lot less unhinged.

“Starting a new business adventure. Plans to do something either with construction or a food truck for a rest stop…he’s weighing his options based on how those meetings go.” Neron informed, “he sounds real determined and said he’ll keep me posted while also sending his love to you.”

Neron and Johnny had their own business together that consisted of mechanics and all things restoration, computers and guns, you name it! After things went terribly south (she often found it hard at times that they both made it out alive) with the club, they figured this would be their best option and Mariatu couldn’t be more supportive of the two. In whatever way she was often confused on her father bringing up his multiple business ideas to her husband and good friend. Neron and Coco seemed quite comfortable making their roots here and not all over the place like her father commonly did.

Yet of course she understood networking being a business owner herself…she just couldn’t picture Neron or Johnny elsewhere now that they were secure here and out of the tainted Santo Padre.

Mariatu rolls her eyes at this, loving how Neron threw that in there but she knew this was true with the way her father’s brain was constantly running with ideas. He’s always been a hardworking, successful man but he also didn’t know when to slow down. He was getting older and it’s like Mariatu was always fighting to have time with him, she valued that considering the lost of her mother but perhaps this was all his way of grieving?

You tend to do that sometimes at the end of the year they say.

“Will he back for Christmas? Kwanzaa, maybe?”

Neron wouldn’t lie and he knew how important Mariatu’s relationship was with her parents, which he did not receive personally but he always had his sisters so he understood to some degree, “he didn’t say honey but I’m sure he’ll try.”

“Right,” Mariatu is quiet for some time before starting up her spin brush again for a few minutes before rinsing her face and continuing the rest of her work.

The room is thicker now with Mariatu’s inner feelings about it all but Neron knows not to push it. They were similar in that way, holding everything in but Mariatu was better in letting it out when she was ready while Neron struggled with his own issues of people not hearing him when he did speak. However he knew not to feel that way with his wife, they confided in each other countless of times and felt seen being vulnerable with each other. It’s what drove them forward through the hardships.

Neron’s not sure how long he’s dazed off but a pair of pants smack across his face, followed by a snort of laughter that belonged to no other than his wife. He blinks, gripping onto the printed pants and scowls as he eyes the same print that Mariatu is sporting. Except her’s are shorts and he gets to eye her smooth legs in them.

Licking his lips Neron rubs at his beard, fighting to keep his thoughts clean as she slips a printed long sleeve set over her camisole, “You’re really making me wear matching pajamas with you?”

“Uh huh,” Mariatu nods her head with a smile, “we’ll be cozy and cute.”

Neron mumbles, “And lookin’ like the elves on the fucken shelf.”

Mariatu cackles as Neron shakes his head in disagreement. She stands before him, resting her hands across his shoulders, massaging them while staring down into his tense but loving brown eyes. Neron doesn’t hesitate to wrap his solid tatted arms around her waist, while she gets comfortable locking her legs right around his hips so they’re face to face now.

“I think you need a little more persuading and a thank you.”

“A thank you?” Neron ponders as Mariatu nuzzles her nose against the man’s, who breathes her in.

Mariatu pecks his lips, then trails those kisses along his jaw and up to his large ear, whispering, “for always looking out for me and especially for today. Will you let me take care of you?”

She can feel Neron shudder against her and she knew that Neron just wanted to be loved in return for the love that he gave out. Mariatu had no problem providing that and the confirmation of his fingertips digging into her waist was all she needed to make their lips collide. The scratch of his beard against her chin, the weight of her clung to his body, the force of shoving him back against the sheets, scrape of her stiletto nails that greeted his skin briefly as she helped him out of his tops, kissing of his wounds that were buried beneath his tats, the trick of her tongue against the round of his raised flesh which contained a hooped piercing that always evoked a breathy moan from his lips, the teasing and pleasing to his lower region with only her mouth was enough to bring joy right out of Neron’s heart.

Mariatu took the reigns but Neron couldn’t let that slide without getting his hands on her in the way he wanted and the way they both needed as well. A shower and clean up routine later, both now sporting red festive wear, they’re lounging against the headboard together, container of pomegranate seeds placed in between them while the skies in San Didacus continue filling in with a gray haze.

Neron and Mariatu both meet each other’s eyes after the dark haired man settled on, one of his favorites, “Krampus,” (2015) after finding one of the cheesy romantic Christmas movies to be too corny for their tastes.

“Ready to keep the festive spirit going?” Neron asks, wrist draped over Mariatu’s shoulder while she curls into him, leg tossed over his torso.

Mariatu covers her yawn, “yeah I am, I don’t know about you but I don’t want any demons hunting this house, especially once some kids come along.”

“Nah, krampus don’t got nothin’ on me.” Neron tells with a grin, “he better ask Poe and check my resume.”

“I haven’t even seen that resume.”

“I’m keepin’ it that way. Like I said when we took those vows, you don’t got to worry about nothing on that end. Just the restaurant and the good parts of life that we’re building together only.” Neron reassured in which Mariatu nodded with a smile.

Neron leans forward capturing Mariatu’s lips in a brief kiss before brushing his lips against her forehead then tunes back into the movie.

One thing is true, this holiday, equally the pair hopes this season brings further blessings to their table after growing what they both went through. The little moments mean just as much as the big ones and when they frequently stare into each other’s eyes…maybe in the end they can always say that’s the best gift the universe could have ever gave them.

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙

Continue the rest of my~5 days of Xmas~December anthology prompts here.

#Mayans mc #mayans fx #Mayans #mayans mc x reader #mayans imagine #mayans x reader #neron creeper vargas #creeper vargas #creeper Vargas x oc #creeper Vargas x reader #neron vargas x reader #johnny coco cruz #coco cruz #december prompts #queued #Joseph raymond lucero

[builtbybrokenbells]

i will admit, it took me a while to formulate what I would like to say, but here goes:

just about a year ago, i made this account with little expectations. for a few weeks, I silently read fics and found myself being a faithful follower of the gvf tags on tumblr. having been someone who’s always loved to write, i figured I’d shoot my best shot, and if it didn’t work out, no harm no foul.

the immediate response and support that i received was overwhelming. for a long time, I had given up on writing because i had no inspiration and no motivation, but the motivation I’ve found in you all has been awe inspiring and the support I’ve received has been incredibly valuable to me. there is no amount of words that could begin to describe the love i have for you all in my heart, and how thankful I am to have finally found a community in which i feel comfortable and safe.

2023, like most years of my life, was absolutely devastating. but, as always, there is a light that shines in the dark, and I fully accredit that light to you. when life is bad, i turn to this tiny corner of the internet and i pour my heart into my work to forget about life for a while. when writing does not seem to solve the problems, I read through the messages and comments that you all take the time to write me, and I find myself feeling lighter and happier than ever before.

the friends I’ve made and the joy I’ve felt in the last year is immeasurable. I find no need to single anyone out, because you’ve all played a huge part (but, there are a few of you near and dear to my heart that i am especially grateful for every day, that continue to encourage me and check in on me, and that give me that extra push when really needed. you know who you are, and i am so incredibly lucky to call you my friends 🫶🏻). thank you for all that you do for me without even realizing, and thank you all for giving me the opportunity to find the part of me that I’d lost for a long time. i am incredibly grateful to share a community with all of you, and to be able to share such a beautiful love for this band with you.

i cannot wait for the next year, and I hope it is filled with even more light, friendship, and love. I’m sure there will be lots of work shared and plenty of memories to be had, and I cannot express my gratitude enough. thank you again for all you do, and i wish the absolute best to everyone in the coming year. you make what I do possible, and i owe it all to you 🤍

#tori rambles #gvf #jake kiszka #greta van fleet #sam kiszka #jake gvf #sam gvf #danny wagner #josh gvf #gvf fic #danny gvf #builtbybrokenbells

[goldenhickeysandramen]

Not everything that happens to Jungkook...

Even if I haven’t watched the entire JK’s vlives yet and we are all in a kind of super positive mood after seeing Jimin x Vogue and the Set me free Pt.2 short Teaser version 😍….https://youtube.com/shorts/l5mdm-D_OBE?feature=share

... I wanna share a view with you: not everything that happens to Jungkook has to do with Jimin.

I'm a little tired of seeing how many jikookers associate everything JK does, says or seems to feel to Jimin immediately (and then, act surprise when some solos/army don’t like shippers or supporters)

JK is an individual who has been doing vlives for weeks now and showing and communicating to army many things that have to do with HIM, with his person. Yesterday he did that as well.

It's nice to think that he missed Jimin on a day like yesterday (white day), because even though he didn't say it explicitly, there are some clues that make us suspect that, of course!💛💜

But his vlives have been and are much more than missing Jimin.

Jimin and JK have been living apart officially, and as far as we can see, at least since March 2021, when they were forced to buy 91 flats (and JK didn't, probably cause he had already bought the one in Itaewoon, months before) and JK’s address in 91 was leaked. I mean they know how to live separate, given the circumstances.

There are things about this second chapter that we don't know. I don't know if you've read the interviews NJ gave recently for some Spanish magazines. I recommend you do so. Even he talks about personal and professional changes during this present year (that of course we dont know about) 

https://twitter.com/btscharts_spain/status/1634966651690172417?s=20

What I mean by this is that we don't know everything they have had to face as a band, nor individually according to their personalities and abilities. 

We don't know how they handle the prospect of stopping their promising careers, their lives in fact, to go to military service (beyond telling us they will honour their country), how their lives have been shaken by this "hiatus", how they deal with uncertainty, or even if they are motivated enough to continue working on a solo album (because it's not just that they want to challenge themselves professionally, sure they want to express themselves, but that's not always easy, or they can't be in the right moment to do it). 

And nothing is yet confirmed:

 https://twitter.com/Kpop_Herald/status/1635928744606199808?s=20

But what I do know is that Jimin and JK are not at the same point right now. JK seems to be figuring out his next steps. Even if he’s been resumed to work, he’s still wondering some things, as he told us yesterday. And Jimin, who has been working since a year now, is about to debut with his first solo album.

They do face different challenges right now.

They could be in a long time relationship, but they still have their own individuality and aspirations and projects. And of course, their own fears and hurdles. 

Let's respect them. 

I am pretty sure they support e/o, as we perfectly saw yesterday https://twitter.com/lovemazejikook/status/1635656665977724928?s=20

Listen, I'm the first to admit that I miss seeing jikook on real time. I mean, I really miss seeing them interacting, playing and giggling like goofballs. We haven't seen them since the Busan concert in October (the content we've seen during those months had been recorded months before... we've only seen them talking to each other in vlives).

That's about 5 months without seeing them. That's a lot! At least for me ☹… I miss the joy and love they brought constantly to my life.

I've even wondered several times if they'd be ok, if they'd still be together. [What? I don't know why it's so frowned upon to talk openly about doubts... sometimes it's not insecurity... it's trying to be objective; cause let’s speak honestly…they've been doing a pretty good job to cover his romantic relationship since chapter 2 started]

So I embrace every moment we have now from them interacting – even in vlives - with infinite joy. And I can understand all the jikook community does.

Yesterday, we saw JK supporting his boy's MV teaser, acknowledging he watches his vlives, that he remembers both of their songs perfectly, and he showed us his tattoos again, including that JM on his ring finger. 

[Side note: The ring finger in South Korea is the finger of love and bond because it is believed to be in direct connection with the heart (no matter which hand).]. 

And my heart melted a little….🥰🥰

But… we saw much more, as usual in his last vlives. Jungkook was sincere with army, playful at times, others rebellious (let him not to go to sleep and drink whatever he wants, for goodness’s sake!), melancholic and emotional. 

He tasted his different whiskeys; we saw his vaper 😉. And I feel that we accompanied him in his loneliness. Because his last vlives feel a little bit like that.

He worries me. Not overly, but I don't know... as I said, he gives me tremendous lonely and melancholic vibes... a bit of a mess right now.... like someone who has been idle for a long time and doesn't know what to do next.....

I can't ask all jikookers to care/be worried about him like some of us do. I know not everyone shares the same view. Not even his solos stans

But to think since he started doing the vlives that the only thing that happens to JK is that Jimin works a lot and he misses him is just not taking him into consideration and acting just like that “other shippers” who are accused of "instrumentalizing" or "using" Jungkook for their "ship".😖

Hopefully he is creating and moving forward in whatever he wants to give us. I don't care if it's one song, two, an album, or a tour, in big places, or in small ones. Can you imagine him singing "still with you" in a small theatre?😭

I can't wait to see him shine again on stage with the energy he has because I know, we all know, this boy loves and lives for singing. 

I hope he continues to gain the confidence from our support. That he continues to believe in himself and his instincts, as he said yesterday.

And to end on a more superficial note ... I leave you with this beauty..

This week and next week are very important for him, and as he said in Vogue, he expects us to be by his side supporting him in his new journey.

He has worked super hard. He always has. And now more than ever those of us who adore him need to be there for him. It's his individual moment (as well, do you see?).

Let's make him shine.

#JUNGKOOK AND JIMIN #jikook #Kookmin #mingguk

[tnystrk-exe]

Covenant and Devotion

Papa Emeritus IV x Reader

Summary: “I ask for so little, just let me rule you and you can have everything that you want. Just fear me. Love me. Do as I say and I will be your slave.”

Warnings: 18+ Oral m receiving

AN: I’ve been obsessed with the dynamics with the guys for a while. After sitting on it for the longest, I figured why not just write it. Forgive me if I’m a bit rusty.

AO3 Link

“I ask for so little, just let me rule you.”

It had been days. Days upon days of hearing he wasn’t good enough. This position wasn’t his birthright. Luck of the draw. A rat that scurried to chance the second it presented itself. 

So what if he had?

He did the work. 

Poured the very fiber of his being into this ministry and earned it more than anyone before him had. 

No. “Lucky” was something he never was. Who could look at the way his life started and claim such a thing. He wasn’t born and immediately given opportunity on the simple chance of existing within the right circumstances. 

For years he dedicated his life to the dark lord. It was only right he’d be rewarded for his efforts. How could they ever question Him? He knew of Copia’s coming. Each and every year crawled this miserable church to the true hands it belonged in. To someone who truly respected it and didn’t use the position for pleasure alone. This was his right. 

Who were they to question what Satanas wanted? Traitors, the lot of them.

He never mind time in the confessional. Being a good Papa to the congregation that he’d been asked to protect and guide was more than important to him. However, sitting here to stew in his thoughts between people was a bitch to say the least. 

There was no such thing as luck in this world. They’d be proven wrong. Then punished by Him for ever doubting his lead.

A soft knock against the confessional brought him out of his thoughts. 

“Il Padre, il Filio, et lo Spiritus Malum,” he heard you begin.

“Tell Papa your sins, Sorella. Let us rejoice in them.”

Taking a deep breath he reveled in the scent of your perfume. Had your voice not given you away, surely he would have recognized you on the smell alone. It invaded his senses. The memory of it made him weak on nights where he was too busy to look for a partner. 

“I’m afraid there isn’t much to tell,” you sighed, the soft click of prayer beads filled the air as you toyed with them. “You, Papa?”

He chuckled at your shyness, “I’m here to praise you, little one. Not the other way around. There must have been some thought floating around in your head, tempting you.”

“Well…”

“Well…” he urged you, “Come, tell Papa your secret. I ask for nothing more, only to be let in.”

“I-“ 

The warmth that must’ve been flooding your face was easy to imagine. He was much the same when he was younger. Though Nihil was usually guaranteed to be drunk or high so after a while such things were easy to shake off. Now? Everything he’d done on stage hardly left any shame. It’s been a while since he blushed. That was a shame. In the correct situations, it wasn't the worst feeling. 

“We don’t have to talk about such things if you’re not ready. We can have a simple conversation.”

“No. No, I can do it,” you insisted, “I’m just… embarrassed. It’s so typical.”

He mulled over what to say for a second. “Many have existed, you know, I’d like to think there’s some comfort in that. No matter what. Someone’s probably had the thought. You’re not alone in it.”

You laughed, the sound of it making him smile. “I’m certain I’m not.”

“If you tell me, I can tell you if we have something in common.”

“Tricky,” you chided him before taking a deep breath, “Eucharist.”

“What about it?”

“Fuck, if there’s ever a time to say something,” you whispered to yourself, “I can’t shake it. No matter what I try, I think about it… Kneeling in front of you, the taste of your glove on my tongue, your grip on my chin to ensure I looked in your eyes as you gave me wine.”

He felt himself stir in his pants. Of course there had been motives to those actions. Pretty images to lock away for himself later, not that he’d assume you’d reciprocate. His finger ghosted over the growing bulge. 

“I see… Can’t say I’ve ever thought of a Papa that way. Have you done anything to remedy these thoughts? There’s been many times you’ve taken the Eucharist.”

“That's why I was late today. The usual dream woke me up at night and it felt so real I needed to finish. Lost track of time and well you know.”

“Such a needy thing for your Papa.” He smirked at the quiet sound of your whine. “My poor little lamb. Did it feel good imagining it was my fingers ruining you?”

“Papa…” 

He chuckled, “Perhaps, I have my answer. I always wondered why you’d only take Eucharist from me. Though, I simply assumed you were intimidated of Terzo. Che ragazza leale, you knew who your true Papa was, didn’t you? Even when he was nothing more than a Cardinal. Che bravissima ragazza sei stata.”

“You’re being mean,” you whined, voice doing little to hide your embarrassment. 

“No. No, tesoro, never to you unless you asked for such treatment. I took note of how easily you called me Papa while others still stumble over it years later. Cardinal,” he scoffed, “I’ve ascended. Changed. He’s no longer me. No. But you, Sorella, you took to your Papa so beautifully. Why don’t you come to me? Receive the Sacrement you truly long for.”

You said nothing. The door shut. Fuck, he may have ruined this by pushing. Maybe all you wanted was to take the thought out of your head and he misread the situation. If he had to get a new assistant he understood that, but the idea of upsetting you shrouded over everything else. 

Though all those worries washed out when you opened the door and immediately settled yourself on your knees in the cramped space. He closed the door, spreading his legs to allow you more room. His finger traced along your jaw. 

“YN, answer me honestly. Copia right now,” he stated, the usual thing to say when you were on equal footing, “Is this what you want? Nothing has to happen. We see each other in the morning, same as usual.”

You grabbed his hand, pressing a soft kiss to his gloved hand. “I want this, Copia, I want you. Let me worship you for all the good you do. You do so much and never get anything in return.”

For that he couldn’t manage a sentence. His brain nearly imploded at the thought. Instead, he merely motioned to the laces that we’re keeping you from what you wanted. 

He hissed you palmed him. Being reminded when he saw a mischievous glint in your eye that despite the initial bashful demeanor you were still a sister of sin. The only thing that betrayed any of your earlier emotion was the slight tremble of your hands as you undid the laces. Chuckling quietly when you groaned in frustration at how tight he had tied it.

“Hush, sweet girl. Don’t want to be caught, do you?” He asked. Though if he could have it his way he’d have you moaning to the heavens so everyone would know who you belonged to. You tugged at the string making a disappointed sound once more. “Such an impatient thing aren’t you? Open.”

Your hands didn’t leave his lap still fumbling, but you looked up at him immediately obeying his command. Eyes looking at him with an innocence he knew you didn’t truly possess. All the same he twitched against the strained fabric. 

One hand gripped your chin, squeezing your cheeks roughly. “What was it that lingered? The taste of my gloves?” He nodded your head for you. “Yes, I see.”

Two of his fingers traced your bottom lip. 

Today's choice of gloves were the skeleton ones. The bumps and ridges on them were subtle in the light, but you’d feel them well enough if you allowed him to return the favor after his turn. He wouldn’t take you. Not here. Not yet. When he did that he’d savor it. There would be all the time in the world to learn the secrets you had. 

His fingers thrusted themselves against your tongue. Your mouth closed around them, hands stilled as you looked at him docile as ever while he did as he wished. A content hum signaling you were more than pleased with the situation. With his free hand he took care of undoing the laces. Grabbing one of your hands he wrapped it around himself, moaning his approval as you pumped him. The warmth of your mouth sunk into the glove, making him impatient to experience it first hand. 

“Come, cara mia, receive the gift your Papa wants to give you.”

You whimpered as he withdrew his fingers. Wiping the spit off of them on your cheek. An adorably furrowed brow at him, but otherwise no response. What use when you’d be covered in your spit in a moment anyway?

With a hand at the base of your neck, he led you forward. A grateful moan slipped past his lips as you licked off the precome that was making its way down the shaft. The tip received kitten licks. He leaned his head back and eyes closed as you took your time. It had been a long time since he cared to have a partner, but there was no need in rushing this after he coveted it for so long. He couldn’t help tugging at your hair as he kept himself in place. 

Eventually, you let him into your mouth. The feeling of it was near damning. Tongue swirled making sure no part of him was left untouched. 

“Lucifero mi ha benedetto con te. Una bocca così dolce per tuo Papa.”

It was embarrassing how quickly this would be over. Maybe that was a plus side to sleeping around, he would’ve been allowed this longer. Before he could give it much more thought you suddenly slipped him in as deep as you could manage. Making him choke out a loud groan as you gagged around him. Selfishly, his hand kept you there, hips giving shallow thrust to get just that much deeper.

“This is what you wanted, eh? Your Papa’s cock in that little throat. Perfetto. Mi prende così bene. Non vedo l'ora di scopare quella figa così come questa gola.”

You made a soft noise, blinking away tears from your eyes, but you didn’t struggle against the on slot. More so welcoming the invasion as you braced yourself against his thighs. He muttered out more strung out thoughts. None heading anywhere other than how good he felt or what he’d do to you later. 

Taking some mercy, he finally allowed you to breathe. He almost felt pity as you took deep breaths through coughs, but the fussed make up didn’t let him feel that bad. You didn’t seem to feel so bad either as the second you felt okay again you were back on him. Lavashing a vein with sweet kisses. 

Running a hand through his hair he tugged at the strands. Needing something to ground him. 

“You look so pretty, Copia,” you said quietly. 

“Cara,” he groaned, feeling the warmth rise to his face. “I need you. Ho bisogno di te. Mente, corpo, e anima. Tutto quello che devi dare per me solo. Let me keep you. Be mine. Take what I give you.”

Pulling your head back, he laid his head against your tongue. Hand fisting himself away as he pushed himself closer to the edge. It wasn’t long before he finished. His cum a mess in your mouth and around it as you made a show of swallowing it down for him. Using a finger to wipe the rest, put it on your tongue to clean off the mess. 

Grabbing the handkerchief from his pocket he cleaned you up properly. There would still be evidence that you’ve done someone but it was as clean as he could manage at the moment. Helping you from your cramped position, he sat you on his lap. 

“May I kiss you?” 

It felt a bit ridiculous to ask all things considered but he asked anyway. 

“Please, Copia.”

Closing the distance, his hard work to clean you was ruined once more by paints. Oh well, he intended on making you his anyway. His hand slipped into your waistband, slow enough to give you time to deny him. When you did nothing he ventured further, finding the mess there. All from touching him alone. 

“Che brava ragazza sei per me.”

A knock interrupted the environment. 

“Il Padre, il Filio, et lo Spiritus Malum,” the man started, “I’ve partook in the act of lust.”

Copia’s hand didn’t stop what it had set out to do, the free one simply opted to preoccupy your mouth to help muffle out any noise you’d make. 

“How delicious. And who has been the object of your desire?”

“Sister YN, Papa, I can’t get her out of my head.”

When you went to sneak a peek out of curiosity he drove his fingers harder into you. Relishing in the way you gripped at his dress shirt the muffled vibration of your moan against his palm. 

“What a pity that is.”

#the band ghost #papa emeritus x reader #papa emeritus iv #cardinal copia #Copia #imagine #fanfic #ghost

[aquadestinyswriting]

A Promise to Break

Summary: Before she left to go to Toreguarde to seal up the Hellmouth. Meredith promised her father she would have nothing to do with Drakemar, or those who worked directly for him, unless absolutely necessary. Unfortunately, on her second day there, she accepts a contract to work on the Emissary’s (and thereby Drakemar’s) behalf. When word reaches Fangthane that Elowyn has been released from this contract, Meredith is forced to come clean.

Words: 922

Warnings: none that I can think of, let me know if there is anything I need to tag

Notes: written for the Flash Fiction Friday prompt.

Tags: @druidx, @sparrow-orion-writes, @warriorbookworm, @mariahwritesstuff, @writeblrsupport, @ashirisu, @flashfictionfridayofficial, @thesorcerersapprentice, @blind-the-winds, @freedominique

“Given that Captain O’Toreguarde has now been released from her service to Drakemar, and that she has clearly shown no previous intent to cause issues within Fangthane even while beholden to him, I doubt that there is any real cause for concern.” Captain Bloodvein said, settling back into his chair, “However, I’m sure you can understand why we need to question her true motivations for the time she was here while under his… protection.” 

Meredith fought down the urge to squirm in her seat. She’d rather been hoping that the contracts with Drakemar’s Emissary had been entirely forgotten about, given the whole ‘Ragnarok’ situation just a few years ago. She thought back to the conversation she’d had with her father the night before she left for Toreguarde the first time.

Meredith huffed a sigh and rolled her eyes, which only served to make Gruk even more irritated,

“Just promise me ye’re no’ gonna have anythin’ to do wi’ the thing.” He growled, “The last thing I want or need is fer that monster to have any influence o’er ye!”

Meredith held up her hands in the most placating manner she could,

“Alright da, I promise I’ll no’ have anything to do with him.” She agreed, heaving a sigh, “Not that I’d want to anyway, I’ll have enough to deal with just figuring out how to fix that damn portal.” She added.

Guilt squeezed at her heart. The promise had lasted all of two days after her arrival in the other city. She looked up at Captain Bloodvein, whose brow had furrowed in suspicion, or concern, it was always hard to tell with the man.

“Are you well, High Inquisitor?” You’re looking a little peaky.” The heavily armoured dwarf asked. 

Damnit.

Meredith huffed out a sigh,

“I’m well enough, thank you.” She replied. She glanced around her office for a moment before shaking her head, “Forgive me, but this is a topic that I’d hoped had been forgotten about. I understand why you have questions, but be assured that the contract with Drakemar’s Emissary had no sway over Elowyn’s actions at any time after we fled Toreguarde the first time. In fact, Lady O’Toreguarde was rather of a mind to end the contract herself at the time, as my father will be happy to attest.” 

Captain Bloodvein nodded, his eyes narrowing,

“That is assuring. Though I can understand why such a desire had since fallen to the wayside given the circumstances that later occurred. However, why had you hoped that this matter would be forgotten?” He asked pointedly. His query held no malice, Meredith noticed. She grimaced, noticing that the older dwarf had clearly already put two and two together and was simply waiting for confirmation of his suspicions. 

Meredith closed her eyes, silently prayed to Moradin for guidance of any sort, then opened her eyes once more, forcing herself to meet the other dwarf’s gaze,

“I regret to say that I was beholden to the same contract.” She said, her voice quavering despite all her best efforts, “You must understand, Captain, that the Edict against adventuring did not just apply to the remaining Heroes of Toreguarde, but all people who lived, worked or even visited the city. My Moradin-given duty at the time fell squarely within the remit of adventuring, so had I not accepted the contract, all of my attempts to help would have been stymied from the start–”

Captain Bloodvein held up a hand, stopping Meredith’s anxiously rushed explanation,

“So Lady O’Toreguarde, yourself and the others of your party at the time were forced to sign?” He asked. Meredith grimaced again and looked down at her desk, outright fidgeting in her seat now,

“Not forced exactly.” She murmured. The High Inquisitor clenched her fists and looked up at Captain Bloodvein once more, “The Emissary did give us the option to decline. However, given why I was in Toreguarde at the time, I felt I had little choice in the matter. I cannot speak for Elowyn.”

Captain Bloodvein nodded, stroking his beard thoughtfully,

“Perhaps, then, it would be wise to contact Toreguarde to request a similar release for yourself?” He suggested, “I doubt that there’s any need to inform anyone else of your own involvement in all this, but it will probably set your own mind at ease given how skittish you obviously are about it.” He said mildly. Meredith frowned, confused,

“Ye’re not upset that I essentially took gold directly from a dragon?” She asked warily. Captain Bloodvein shrugged,

“There are people who would be, no doubt, but you’ve explained why and I am satisfied with your reasoning. As to Lady O’Toreguarde’s involvement, I am satisfied that her previous obligations to Drakemar did not constitute any threat to the security of Fangthane and will be happy to tell the Council and His Majesty as such.” he stated. Meredith whooshed out the breath she’d been holding and nodded,

“Alright. I suppose I’d best ask Elowyn how she got her contract nullified, then make sure mine is done in a more discreet fashion. It’s bad enough that you know. My da’d kill me if he found out, High Inquisitor or not.” she added with a mutter. Captain Bloodvein chuckled,

“Yes, please do make an effort not to get yourself murdered. It’s a lot of paperwork to sort out all the vacancies we still need to fill.” He joked. The older dwarf stood, picking up his helm, bowed and exited the room, leaving Meredith to groan and bury her head in her arms.

#aquadestinyswriting #titan fighting fantasy #writeblrcafe #the troubles of meredith gruksdottir #meredith gruksdottir #captain bloodvein #flash fiction friday

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Breath of the Sky Ch 13 (Skyward Sword meets BotW)

Summary: When Princess Zelda goes to the Spring of Courage to pray, accompanied by her appointed knight, a giant magical cog spitting out a goddess is the last thing she expects, but it is what she gets. Meanwhile, the Spirit Maiden Zelda is trying to figure out what the heck is happening and where her missing chosen hero is.

AO3 link

Chapter 13 - The Failure

They needed to talk. They needed to plan.

Despite the overwhelming despair and uncertainty, despite the fear and pain, Zelda found herself growing motivated the longer she held the princess. She felt the fire returning, the stubborn determination that made a goddess let herself die and be reborn, the steadfastness that pushed her to seal herself away for thousands of years, the protectiveness that had led to the creation of Skyloft.

And so, after wiping the princess’ tears, Zelda had told her they were going to talk to Link. Both of them.

The champion had been easy to locate. He had been hovering outside, trying his best to look calm but easily giving away his concern with the way his eyes lingered too long on the princess, the speed at which he walked to her. Zelda had explained quickly that they needed to find her Link next, and they set about that goal quickly.

The conviction of a goddess mixed with the nervousness of a teenager, though, and Zelda fell into her habit of worrying when it concerned those she cared about… particularly Link.

“Okay,” she said as she marched ahead, nearly dragging the other two with her. “Okay. So. The plan—the plan is to seal him away. We can sort out killing him after. We can do that. We just need to figure out what’s going on with your ability to seal him away. And you—” here she turned to the champion, finger pointing with enough ferocity to be a dagger “You get to kick his ass, but I’m helping do that too because I want to punch his stupid face. I’m sure Link—my Link—uh, Cloud can help with that too, but we need to find him. This is just—this is fine. This is fine. We don’t need the Triforce yet, it’ll be okay. This is fine.”

The look exchanged between the princess and the champion implied that her ramblings were not, in fact, fine, but Zelda ignored it.

Her anxious energy began to grow frustrated as they wandered the castle. Link’s plight of constantly chasing her down was becoming extremely relatable at the moment. As they rounded yet another corner, Zelda felt relief at seeing a familiar colorful uniform with sandy blonde hair peeking out of the navy blue cap.

“Excuse me!” Zelda called, running towards the familiar guard. He genuflected when he turned and saw her. “Have you seen Link? My Link?”

“I know his location, Your Grace,” he answered. “I was actually heading his way. Would you like me to take you to him?”

Given all the information she’d been dealing with, and given all the running around she’d already done, the sheer comfort and happiness at not only hearing that someone could help her locate her husband, but that it was the one person who reminded her of Impa, made Zelda laugh and fall to her knees to be at eye level with the guard. She hugged him tightly. “Thank goodness! Thank you so much, I would love that!”

The guard stiffened under her hold, just as Impa had the first time she’d hugged her, but she didn’t care. Goddesses she needed some kind of stable rock to rely on in this place, and she didn’t have one, but this guard came close. She saw the reflection of the window ahead of her that he was looking at the princess and the champion, the former holding a hand over her mouth to cover a gasp while the latter watched the guard worriedly.

Honestly, these people. How did any society develop to be so emotionally stifled, anyway?

“I need to teach all of you that hugs are a good thing, good grief,” she chuckled as she pulled away. “But anyway, please do show us where Link is.”

The guard took a deep breath, nodding and rising. He guided them in silence, though the sights of the castle kept Zelda preoccupied – they were heading somewhere she hadn’t been yet, and though the stone walls all blended into each other to create a massive maze, she saw light from outside and grew hopeful. It seemed Link, just like her, didn’t care for being cooped up in this stone prison of sorts, as beautiful as it was.

Zelda had to admit that, though she wanted to help her people grow on the Surface, she was a child of the Sky nonetheless.

They wandered a path that seemed vaguely familiar from their expedition into the nearby large town, though the guard guided them down a road that Link and Zelda had pointedly avoided due to the place flooding with people. Eventually, they wound up near a tower farthest from the castle, overlooking a good portion of land and the town below. The sun was high in the sky now, and Zelda turned to the guard as they approached the tower.

“Is there somewhere we can get food in town?” she asked. She was well aware the castle had food too, but she… didn’t want to go back there.

“We can arrange to have lunch brought to you here, if you wish,” the guard replied. “But yes, there are many places in Castle Town where you can get food.”

Upon their arrival to the structure, the guard dismissed the two colorfully clad knights who had been standing post in the entranceway. He turned to face the group. “The Hero is inside, Your Grace. I’ll ensure no one enters.” His gaze moved beyond her, settling on the champion, and he spoke with a softer tone, “When time allows, Link, Princess Mipha wished to speak with you.”

With that, the knight moved aside to let them pass, standing guard. Zelda looked back at the other two, temporarily distracted—was there another princess? Did Princess Zelda have a sister that they hadn’t met yet? She shook her head, returning her focus to the task at hand. She could only gather so many people together at once, after all. It had taken half the day just to get to this point.

Motioning to the two behind her, she walked into the cavernous structure, hearing Link’s footsteps scraping the stone up above. They climbed a ladder to reach the upper level, the bright daylight dazzling Zelda’s eyes for a moment, and she saw the silhouette of her husband pacing back and forth, clearly agitated.

“Link,” she called with a smile, relieved they were all finally together. Her smile fell, however, at the distressed look on her husband’s face.

Link froze, facing away from her, holding himself with trembling hands. She approached him slowly, worry eating away at her already weary heart. When she was close enough to touch him, she wrapped her arms slowly around him from behind, resting her chin on his shoulder. “What’s the matter, Dove?”

Link felt tense under her arms, but then he draped his arms over hers and squeezed her wrists lovingly, stroking her hands with his thumbs. She shifted so she could stand beside him, peeking around his arm with a curious glance. His expression was soft, enchanted by what he saw, but his eyes were dark and stormy. He glanced at her, his heavy brow relaxing a little. “We started all this.”

There was wonder and a quiet timidity to his voice, awe and disbelief and acceptance settling into him. Zelda squeezed him reassuringly, cocking her head to the side and giving him a soft smile. “Yeah. We did.”

Link let out a shaky breath, and then he let her go, looking down. Zelda’s arms fell to her sides, and she grew worried as she watched him ruminate.

His mouth became a thin line. “And I… I screwed it all up. I cursed everything, everyone. I cursed them.”

“Link,” Zelda said, caught off guard. Although the guilt was gnawing at her as well, she wasn’t entirely blaming herself in such a manner. Demise had outplayed them, and it made her angry and scared and mournful, it made her question how they could actually defeat him if she hadn’t been able to as a goddess or with the Triforce, but she’d still placed the majority of the blame on the demon king himself, not her or Link. Her husband’s worries were clearly eating him alive. He hadn’t even noticed that they weren’t alone.

“Don’t,” Link immediately hissed, growing stormy. “Don’t even try it. You did everything right, you did your part, you trusted me to finish things and I didn’t.”

“What are you talking about?” Zelda asked, putting a hand to his cheek. “Link, you defeated him. We had no way of knowing—”

“I did,” Link spat, pulling out of her reach and turning away, his hands shaking as he clenched his fists. His shoulders hunched and his entire body was so tense it was ready to snap. “He said it himself. I thought—I was such an idiot, Zelda, I—I thought—he started speaking about how his hatred would follow my spirit and your bloodline, and it sounded like the dying words of a monster, I—I didn’t realize it was a promise, a curse, that he was—I didn’t—I d-didn’t—”

Link’s body stiffened even further as shuddering gasps and hiccups interrupted his words, and he bowed his head, hugging himself. Zelda immediately rushed around him to face him fully once more, dragging him into the tightest hug she could muster, willing all of her love into it as her mind whirled.

“You had no way of knowing,” she repeated as she processed what he’d said. What promise was he speaking of? Did it even matter? “And who’s to say it was a curse right in that moment? Who’s to say it wouldn’t have happened whether he spoke it or not? Who’s to say there was any stopping it? Link, I was a goddess. I was a goddess and I couldn’t stop him. You did everything you were meant to do – you solved the puzzles, you tempered the Goddess Sword and made it into the Blade of Evil’s Bane, you traveled through time, you got the Triforce and used it to kill him. You beat him. It was Ghirahim who screwed everything up.”

Ghirahim. It was Ghirahim.

Was that truly why they were in this mess? The realization struck her as she spoke the words, because they were true – she’d exited her slumber because Demise had been killed, after all. Ghirahim was the one who sabotaged it, but Link had ensured that…

“What exactly did he say?” she asked, pulling away to look her husband in the eye.

“He said… he said his hatred never dies. That it would be born again and again, that those who share the blood of the goddess and the spirit of the hero would forever be bound to this curse: an incarnation of his hatred would follow our kind forever, dooming them to darkness and bloodshed.” Link said slowly, refusing to look at her.

Zelda stared at him, dumbfounded. Why… why hadn’t he ever mentioned this before?

As if reading her mind, he stepped away from her, shaking his head and saying, “I—I thought—he was defeated, Zel, I stabbed him in the chest, I thought it was over. The amount of times Ghirahim would give some speech or another despite being defeated, the words were meaningless at that point. Just some other enemy spouting hatred while he bleeds to death. The sword… Fi told me to raise the sword, that it would absorb the remaining evil, that she would seal him away as designed. I didn’t—I didn’t realize—what did I do wrong?”

The trembling of his tone tore at her heart, and Zelda tried to walk towards him again. She couldn’t fathom why Link wouldn’t have mentioned this, but at the same time, his words made sense—and brought so many more questions to mind. How many times had he fought Ghirahim, anyway? The more she considered it, the more she realized she hadn’t really asked much about his adventure. Their time after that journey had been spent recovering and then pointedly avoiding the topic altogether.

Goddesses above, this was all a mess.

“Impa was right,” Link said suddenly, his voice no longer trembling, but so, so dark. “You were wrong. Hylia was wrong. I’m no Hero. Even Fi has decided that! She already chose a successor, after all.”

“Link,” Zelda tried to argue, immediately growing agitated. This sort of talk wasn’t going to do them any good, and she hated seeing him like this. “This isn’t—I know—”

Link’s eyes narrowed at her as if she were an enemy. The look stole her voice from her throat and made her blood freeze. She’d never seen Link this upset. “Yes, you know. Your Grace knows everything. You always did, stringing me along without ever telling me everything until it was too late to even stop you from—from—How does it feel to not have all the pieces until it’s too late? You were wrong.”

Zelda took a step back, her breath sucking in like a gasp as if she’d just been smacked. Link sighed, sensing the change in atmosphere, immediate regret flashing across his face before he finally seemed to notice the other two, who at this point were practically trying to disappear into the walls.

Link’s eyes fixed on the champion, and then he shook his head. The fight quickly drained out of him, but so did any desire to continue talking. He moved quickly towards one of the openings and leapt out of it. Zelda didn’t follow.

The champion ran across the way to peer over where Link had jumped. The princess slowly walked towards Zelda, who was still trying to catch her breath.

There was silence for a long time as the princess hovered near her, as she tried to catch her breath, as Link’s words played over and over in her head.

“Your Grace…?” The princess began hesitantly, a tenderness and shyness to her voice.

Zelda burst into tears.

You always did, stringing me along without ever telling me everything until it was too late.

Guilt sprang forth anew, revitalized by her husband’s accusations, having been squished again and again by both her and Link. It reared its ugly head, reminding her that the fact that Link had been dragged into all of this was very much her fault. Despite being the best fighter among the knights of Skyloft, Link was a softhearted young man through and through. She should have never—but—what choice did she—

Zelda continued to cry, bending over and hugging herself and falling to her knees. Her hiccups and sobs echoed in the area, lost to her own whirling mind but very much laying heavily on the other two occupants.

Link, Champion of Hyrule, felt very much out of place. But he also felt very desperate to try and help. He made his way to the goddess, crumpled on the floor, and his heart hurt to see her like that. He knelt carefully, gently resting a hand on her shoulder, desperately looking at the princess for help.

His own mind was whirling as much as everyone else’s likely was. The words that had been spat out by the Hero of Myth and Legend no longer held the same sting to them. Instead, they rang with such a heartbreaking familiarity, all the way down to the misplaced vitriol.

Zelda. He’d sounded like Zelda.

Never in his life had Link considered that if he ever met the Spirit of the Hero, it would act exactly as his dejected princess did.

He wanted nothing more than to reassure the weeping goddess that it wasn’t her fault at all, just as it wasn’t his fault that Zelda struggled to fulfill her destiny while his came easily. He wanted to tell her that the Hero just needed time and help, just as his princess did. But he was in absolutely no position to do so – he didn’t know what words he could say to reassure Hylia herself, nor could he brainstorm such a conversation with the princess as she herself was just as much a culprit of such behavior as the Hero was. Though, to her credit, she was trying to improve that, hence their budding friendship. But…

Desperate, Link looked pleadingly at Zelda, motioning to the goddess with his head. Do something.

The princess held her hands in front of her chest anxiously, one hand playing with the her wrist. “Your Grace… I… I’m sure he didn’t…”

Hylia continued to cry, not acknowledging either of them. At least she wasn’t upset that Link was touching her. He really wished he could do more.

Link thought of suggesting that they get lunch, but he had a feeling his own love for food would not help the matter. Hylia didn’t seem like the thought of a delicious meal would cheer her up.

The champion was quickly running out of ideas, just as his friend seemed equally clueless. However, Zelda finally knelt down as well, ignoring the dirt she was getting on her dress, and placed her hand on Hylia’s other shoulder. “Your Grace, I’m… I’m sorry.”

Hylia glanced up, eyes puffy, tears staining her flushed cheeks. It was… not a look Link would expect from a goddess.

He supposed he had never thought a goddess could get upset like this. He remembered her radiant smile and eagerness to befriend earlier in the day, and his heart ached even more.

He opened his mouth to speak, but still found himself choking on words. He didn’t know what he could say to help her, what would be appropriate, what would be helpful. Hylia’s gaze was fixed on the princess instead, and Link hesitantly pulled away to give the two some space. Zelda’s eyes quickly darted to his, pleading for support, but he didn’t know what to do.

Hylia stole Zelda’s attention anyway as she hiccupped and shook her head, her gaze dropping to the floor again as she squeezed her eyes shut. The princess shuffled a little closer. Link stepped further away, trying to figure out how he could help, what he could do. He could at least maybe get them some food, giving Hylia and her descendant time to regain composure, and then he could help them in that regard.

Sliding down the ladder, Link continued to hesitate as he dragged his feet to the exit of the guard house. His father was surprisingly missing, despite having been standing guard, leaving Link a little disappointed. He doubted his father could give him advice on the matter, but it would have been nice to at least see him. Instead, Link fumbled to follow through on his decision, feeling like it wasn’t helpful but not knowing what else to do.

“Oh, Link! There you are!”

Startled, Link turned to see his friend, Mipha, approaching, looking relieved. She smiled, red scales glowing in the noon sun, and Link felt like he was drowning in the ocean and just finally saw a lighthouse guiding him.

Link strode up to her immediately, hands gesturing frantically with words he couldn’t piece together, and his friend quickly noticed his distress. “Link, what’s wrong?”

“He—she—” Link spat out, his chest about to burst, trying desperately to hold the words in but unable to do so. He wasn’t sure this was appropriate to share, but by the goddesses he needed to say something. “He’s just like Zelda.”

The words flew out of his mouth like an arrow released from a bow, and he nearly collapsed onto the nearest bench, overwhelmed and exhausted at holding it in for so long, at the sheer relief that nearly drowned him and screamed he doesn’t actually hate me. Mipha slowly sat beside him, watching him hesitantly. He shook his head, leaning over until his face was buried in his hands. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Well…” Mipha said slowly. “You… could start by telling me what you mean.”

Oh. He supposed she needed context.

“The Hero,” he started slowly. “He… feels bad about himself. Like… like the princess. But he… and Hylia… he made… she’s crying, and I…”

Mipha jumped a little. “Hylia’s crying?”

“I don’t know what to do,” Link shook his head. “Mipha, what am I supposed to do?”

“Why is she crying?” Mipha asked.

“She—he—” Link stopped himself and took a breath to reorganize his thoughts. “The Hero. He… he got upset. Really upset. Like… remember when I… when I mentioned… I mean, you kind of dragged it out of me, but…”

Mipha, bless her, remained patient, knowing how Link could struggle to express himself. He’d barely spoken to anyone these last few months, but he’d finally started opening back up to his friend, even if it was just a little. She was the only one who knew that Zelda had yelled at Link in their first weeks together, although the other Champions had clearly sensed the tension.

“He got angry at her,” Link explained slowly. “He got angry. He’s… he said he was a failure, that he wasn’t worthy of being the Hero of Legend. Mipha, it’s… he sounded just like Zelda. But he… he got angry at Hylia about it, and now she’s crying.”

“Oh, my,” Mipha said softly, hand over her mouth. “I… didn’t realize a goddess could cry. That’s… awful.”

“It is awful,” Link agreed, the words spilling out of him now as his emotions mixed with them. “Mipha, what do I do? How do you cheer up a goddess?”

His friend was quiet for a long time, ruminating the matter. “Well… I suppose the same way you cheer anyone up. She cries just like the rest of us… perhaps she just needs kindness like the rest of us too.”

Link thought about the words, remembering all the rituals they did for the goddess. But then he remembered once, when he was very little, when he’d offered flowers to the goddess statue in Hateno, to the warmth that had filled his heart and soul when he’d done so, to the smile that always pulled at his lips whenever he saw silent princesses ever since.

Silent Princess. Zelda’s favorite flower. It always put a smile on the princess’ face too.

Link’s eyes lingered on the one garden that had tried to cultivate the flower, the only one that had succeeded so far, though herbalists hardly called it a success as only one or two flowers grew from the entire batch, and one was wilting already.

Filled with relief and hope, Link dragged Mipha into a hug. “Thank you.”

His friend was stiff under his embrace, and he felt her heart fluttering against his chest. Suddenly, the embrace felt too intimate, too personal, too close, and Link felt his own cheeks blush as he quickly pulled away. Before either party could speak, he hastily made his way to the flower bed, fingers reaching for the healthier of the two specimens.

“Link, wait, isn’t that endangered—”

The silent princess yielded easily to his fingers as he pointedly ignored how the tips of his ears burned, but as he reoriented to his original excitement, he stared at the beautiful, delicate blue-and-white petals with determination.

He turned and smiled at Mipha, nodding in gratitude, before rushing back to the guard house. By the time he reached the top, Hylia’s sobs had evened out, though she was still crumped on the ground. Zelda was on the floor beside her, arm halfway across her shoulders in a hesitant but heartfelt hug. Link took a steadying breath and walked towards the pair, kneeling in front of them. When the two looked up at him, he offered the flower quietly, eyes trying to convey everything his mouth refused to speak.

Hylia stared at him a moment before her gaze lingered on the flower. She reached out slowly, carefully taking the plant from his grasp and turning it in her own calloused fingers.

Her eyes watered, but a smile pulled at her trembling lips. The heaviness of the air seemed to dissipate, and Link smiled back at her.

“It’ll be all right,” he finally said softly.

“We’re here for you,” Zelda added on, growing bolder. “Just as you are for us, Your Grace. I… I may not… I may not have my powers, but I…”

The princess sighed shakily and continued, “I will still do my duty, and I will support you just as you’re trying to do for us.”

Hylia let out another sob, brow pulling together, but the way her face glowed, the way her cheeks puffed and lips pulled conveyed it for the emotional, relieved laugh that it was.

XXX

Abel supposed it was time to break protocol.

He ignored the anxious words warding him away from his goal as he walked down the stone path towards the city. He could practically hear the drill sergeants from his youth telling him to listen to superiors at all costs, to respect those in charge, to fulfill his duty and never question those above his station.

He could hear his heart telling him to do otherwise, his mind set in stone in his path, his beloved wife encouraging him to keep walking forward.

The Hero of Myth and Legend sat on the wall dividing the castle from Castle Town. Abel leaned against the stone beside him, staring out as the sun began to descend from its zenith.

The Hero glanced at him, startled, and moved to get up, but Abel ordered immediately, “Stay put.”

Oh, how his decades of training balked at ordering such a figure around. But mostly, it felt familiar, like when he was talking to his son. Perhaps the fact that they shared a name and a destiny helped.

The Hero slowly resumed his previous posture, bolstering Abel’s confidence on the matter. Now the captain of the guard just had to figure out what to say.

He’d honestly tried not to listen to the conversations in the guard tower. It wasn’t his business – his son, the princess, the goddess, and the mythical hero were all far above him in importance. Although he would always cherish Link, he respected the role his boy had to play, and he wasn’t going to interfere or be so immature as to eavesdrop on important discussions.

It was hard not to hear it, though, when the Immortal Hero was shouting.

Words of a curse, of a demon king, of blame and failure and guilt – they’d all spilled down into Abel’s ears as easily as rain. And it was hard to get them out of his head once heard.

Abel once again found himself wondering what the benefit was in having heroes so young. He still had plenty of strength and endurance in him at the ripe age of thirty-seven, and he didn’t have the emotional issues he’d had when hew as a teenager. Experience was as good a weapon as any.

Not to mention it assisted in cutting through drama and getting to the heart of the matter.

Of course, it still didn’t prepare Abel for such a conversation. It hadn’t prepared him for any of the conversations he’d had with his son once Hyrule had noticed a Hero had arisen. The words the Hero had hissed rang in his ears once more, thoughts of demon kings hunting down his son buzzing before he pushed them away. His son had been preparing for years had the support of all of Hyrule, and Abel would double his efforts in protecting the castle. This one, on the other hand, was a soldier in an eternal war, and Abel and even Link were simply another battlefield on which he had to fight. It seemed he was only just realizing that too, which was... odd and... heartbreaking.

He really had no frame of reference for this person, young and ancient, magical and so unbelievably normal. But he could speak to what he’d seen, and… he dearly hoped it was enough. He hoped it was enough and would be taken in the right spirit. The fact that the—the boy had listened was a promising start, after all.

“I don’t understand what it could possibly be like, being created by the goddess Hylia for the sole purpose of fighting off a demon king,” Abel started honestly, bluntly. “You look as Hylian as anyone else.”

The Ancient One glanced at him, tired and hurting and confused all at once. “I… I don’t know what that is.”

He didn’t know what a Hylian was? Abel supposed he wouldn’t. He was created to fight. Yet he was just like any other teenager. It still made no sense to the captain, but… a boy was a boy. Abel motioned towards the boy’s ears, small and curved like leaves, unique and honestly a little cute. It had always been said that Hylians’ ears were the way they were to better help them hear the goddess – perhaps his were shaped so differently so only he could hear her whispers, so only he could be privileged to her song. It… honestly made Abel’s skin crawl a little. He wished the Hero didn’t look so young – the thought of a child being molded to fight and married off to the goddess… it felt…

Abel didn’t dare say the sacrilegious word, but the ill feeling in his stomach lingered nonetheless. He tried to remind himself that this strange figure was ancient and not actually a teenager, even if he seemed to act like one.

“Your ears,” he commented. “They’re as Hylian as anyone else’s.”

The Hero instinctively reached up to touch his own ears, staring at Abel with wide, genuinely curious eyes now. The traces of guilt and sorrow were fading away in wake of his bemusement, and in that moment he really, truly looked like a kid.

Abel swallowed, trying to get to his point. “You’re… different, perhaps, but you still seem pretty Hylian to me, if you’ll pardon my ignorance on the matter. And if that is the case… then it seems such pressure that you’re putting on yourself is unrealistic.”

Hylia’s Chosen stiffened, though he didn’t comment.

“Calamity Ganon is a scourge that has plagued this land for millennia,” Abel said carefully. “And each time it has come, it has taken all of Hyrule to fight it. Though the Spirit of the Hero and the power of the Goddess are required to vanquish it, they have never fought alone. It seems… unreasonable to expect any different of yourself.”

The Hero bit his lip, his hands falling to his lap as he looked down. “But I was supposed to.”

“Did you defeat him?” Abel asked.

The Hero glanced at him, and though he held guilt in his gaze, he nodded.

“So you defeated him alone, which no one has ever accomplished before or since then,” Abel pointed out. “Yet you blame yourself for his return? If you fought him before and won, this should be easy, should it not?”

“But I—”

“But what?” Abel pressed on. “You can’t change that he’s here. Only that you’re here to stop him. Are you going to fight him or not?”

The Hero stared at him for a long while, eyes growing weary. Abel recognized the look, the exhaustion of war, the scars hidden within. He faced the boy fully.

“You won’t be alone this time,” he told him firmly. “Link will fight alongside you, as well as all the Champions, the guardians, and Hyrule’s army.”

“Sounds rather like I’m not needed,” the Hero said softly, a sad smile pulling at his lips.

“I am not one to waste resources,” Abel replied perhaps a bit too curtly, but he was tired of the adolescent’s moping. This was what the ancient child had been created for, after all, was it not? “You defeated Calamity Ganon long before any army ever could be raised against him. If you fight alongside our forces, if you support Link, then it makes the likelihood of actually killing it all the higher.”

Hylia’s Chosen perked up at the idea given to him, though he still looked a bit uncertain.

“Will you fight alongside Link?” Abel prompted. “Will you help him? Or are you going to drown in your sorrows instead while the rest of Hyrule tries to fight?”

“I’m the only one who can,” the Hero muttered, eyes darkening once more, shoulders set in resignation. “That’s what he said. That’s… what they always say. It’s my destiny.”

Abel waited, unsure what to say to such a remark. The ancient one’s words held a pain and exhaustion to them, but also a bite, and the captain of the guard was suddenly reminded that he was a nobody speaking to a legend.

The Hero of Myth and Legend stared out at Hyrule, sitting up straighter. “I won’t let him destroy this place. I won’t let him hurt Link, or Zelda. Or the princess. I promise.”

“I thank you for your protection,” Abel said genuinely with a bow of his head, catching the Hero’s attention.

“But I…” the Hero continued hesitantly. “I shouldn’t have said what I did. She’s… I know I upset her.”

Abel hadn’t heard Hylia’s reply to any of the words the Hero had said, but he supposed accusing her of being wrong would be upsetting. She seemed too kind to get angry, though, and the hurt on the magical boy’s face implied it as well.

Well. This was certainly a topic he could relate to. He was rather short tempered compared to others, after all. “We’re not perfect, Hero. We will say things that hurt those we love. What matters is that we apologize for them.”

Hylia’s Chosen watched him with a look so eerily similar to Link’s own when his son had been younger—so eager for wisdom from his father, so desperate for guidance—that it almost made Abel falter. Then the boy sighed and nodded in agreement.

Abel smiled as best he could. “Now, I believe Her Grace is waiting for you, great Hero. And if I may be so bold as to say… as a married man, I advise you be quick – our wives don’t like to wait for long.”

The smile that broke out on the Hero’s face was unexpectedly soft and sweet, his eyes glittering as if he was coming back to life, and the Immortal One leapt off the wall, much to Abel’s shock. The captain reached out hastily before seeing the Hero deploy some sort of paraglider, and he sighed heavily, realizing that now he had yet another hero who was going to give him heart attacks on a regular basis.

Oh, how he wished he could hold his son in that moment. But duty called, and he had strayed from it for long enough.

XXX

Admittedly, despite how his heart warmed at the thought of being with Zelda again, Link felt guilt crushing him the closer he got back to the structure he’d run from.

He knew what he’d said was hurtful. He’d chosen his words very particularly so that they would sting. He hadn’t wanted Zelda’s reassurances because he’d known they’d be empty, and suddenly hurt and resentment that had been long forgotten and shoved into the dark recesses of his mind had snarled into the light.

Link was ashamed to even get near his beloved. But he’d be damned if he didn’t own up to it.

And he missed her. He missed her smile, he missed her warmth, he missed her embrace. He was drowning and he wanted nothing more than to hold on to her. He supposed after what he’d said earlier it was a selfish thought at this point, but… if there was one constant in his life, no matter the storm, it had always been her.

He wasn’t going to be the one to lose her again. He wasn’t going to be the one to push her away.

The walk felt like it took an eternity, even though it was only a few minutes. Link hesitantly stared at the ladder leading up to the top, and then he climbed it, steeling himself.

When he got to the top, he found only a couple guards.

Link didn’t bother to speak with them, sliding down once more, and nearly jumped out of his skin as he was met with one of the stranger looking people from the festival. Their skin was red and shimmering, eyes nearly the same shade of amber as the crystal that had held Zelda in a trance for millennia. Their fingers were delicate but held sharp claws, and a blue sash was the only clothing they wore, though their body was adorned in glimmering jewelry.

“Hello, Hero,” the person said in a soft, feminine tone.

Wait, he’d seen her before. She had been sparring with the new Hero that morning.

“Do you—do you know where Zelda is?” he asked quickly, nearly laughing at the irony of such a question given his history with it.

“The princess is with Her Grace and Sir Link,” the woman answered. “They decided to head out into Hyrule Field, I believe. They were going to pick up lunch on the way.”

Hyrule Field? “Where’s that?”

The woman pointed back to the direction where he’d just come from. “It’s just beyond Castle Town. If I were them, I would go to the Sacred Grounds. It’s a pleasant place for a picnic. It’s close to the center of Hyrule Field, you can’t miss it. Would you… like me to take you there?”

Out of a nearly gone habit, Link nearly said no, as if he would find it on his map and could dowse for Zelda beyond that. Goddess. He shook his head, and then hastily said, “Yes, please.”

The strange looking woman—girl? Woman??—smiled and asked him to walk with her. Link tried to ignore the people staring at them as they progressed, feeling the number of eyes on them grow as they entered the big town he and Zelda had explored a few nights ago.

The joy of that exploration felt so far away now. He felt so empty, so unbelievably alone. But the guard had promised he wasn’t, and he…

He just wanted to go home. But it was just like his original journey, wasn’t it? He hadn’t wanted the weight of the world on his shoulders then. He’d just wanted to find Zelda. Headmaster Gaepora had said that the destiny of the world was his to bear, and his alone. No one could know.

Just as now, it was his destiny to fight Demise once more. But… the guard had said it himself.

Link wasn’t alone. Even if he deserved to be, after somehow managing to mess this up.

He would be alone if he continued to push everyone away, though, and he knew it. He remembered just after the world had nearly ended, remembered how isolated he was, and how Zelda had been the only one who could reach him in those dark moments.

Link hardly noticed that they’d reached the fields, hardly noticed that the woman he was with kept glancing at him to make sure he was okay. She seemed to understand he didn’t want to talk and was somehow blessedly fine with it, making the occasional remark about the weather or anything else to ensure it didn’t get too awkwardly quiet.

The awkwardness did linger, though, when Link realized he didn’t know her name. When she stopped and pointed straight ahead, he said, “Thank you… I… didn’t get your name.”

The woman’s eyes widened, suddenly embarrassed. “O-oh! I’m—I’m so very sorry, I—my name is Mipha, Princess of the Zora. I beg your pardon for my lack of manners!”

Another princess? Link stared at her, curious, but then smiled. “Thank you, Mipha.”

The woman’s shame faded, and she nodded, heading back towards Castle Town. Link took a fortifying breath and walked towards the Sacred Grounds. The trees hid some of the area and his approach, allowing him to see the new Hero sitting on the ground alongside Zellie and his wife. His successor was eating away cheerily, garnering a chuckle from Zellie, and Zelda… picked at her food quietly. She smiled when acknowledged, but didn’t seem to have much of an appetite.

Link wanted to kick himself. He also kind of wished the other two weren’t there.

Miraculously, Zelda alone seemed to notice his approach. She paused from holding her food, watching him with a little trepidation. Her eyebrows wrinkled together, and the hurt and worry on her face made Link want to melt into the earth. Zellie seemed to notice something was up, but before she could speak, Zelda rose and walked slowly in his direction.

She paused just out of his reach, and the pair watched each other quietly. A wind stirred between them, trying to push Link away, and he nearly gave in to it, shaking like a leaf.

“Link…?” Zelda called quietly, almost timidly.

Link wasn’t sure if it was the stress of everything catching up to him again, or if it was the way his own wife was scared to approach him as if he were shatter or explode on her… all he knew was that he was crying.

“I’m sorry,” he immediately said, shaking his head, taking a frightened step away. “I’m sorry, Zelda, I’m sorry I’m sorry—”

Zelda’s eyes widened, and she immediately covered the ground between them, nearly tackling him in a hug, carrying him with strong but trembling arms, easing him down to the earth as the world spun around him. He couldn’t get anything else out aside from apologies that stumbled over each other, words only stopping when he hiccupped or gasped for air, his tears endlessly staining her shoulder.

“It’s okay,” she soothed, tightening her hug.

“No it’s not!” Link sobbed. “None of it is, I’m so sorry, I’m—”

Again and again the apologies came forth until he’d exhausted himself, until he found himself clinging to her with as much desperation as he had when she’d awoken from her trance months ago.

He heard Zelda take a shaky breath, her exhale tickling his ear. “I am too.”

The words were raw, the sentiment so genuine it ached. Link didn’t have the emotional energy to reply, couldn’t defend her after trying so many times to reassure her and then eating his own words due to his outburst. He had nothing left to offer except himself, broken and worthless and idiotic as he was, and he just held her all the more.

The sun shone brightly on the pair as the other two slowly rose and watched in silence.

#writing #breath of the sky #zel: this is fine this is fine THIS IS FINE #zellie & champion: *concerned side eye* #abel needs a pay raise guys that's all I'm saying #I did not expect him to become this prominent in the story but SOMEBODY had to knock some sense into these teenagers #and Abel and Mipha were perfect for it #Mipha and Link are more fun to write than I thought #she has good gentle energy and a history with him which helps him actually feel more comfortable and talk #RIP to the last silent princess #don't worry there's probably a few out in the wild still #the horticulturist is just gonna have a mile aneurysm that's all #it was for a good cause #Champion automatically thinks eating makes everything better but he wasn't sure offering Zel food was a good idea #I love being able to write these guys when they actually COOPERATE #Y'all can thank Abel for getting this chapter together #He doesn't have time for teenage drama even if it's understandable drama #again this guy needs a raise #Zel and Cloud happily put the stressors from their journey behind them because why address them? :) Especially Cloud #they're fine #at least Champ doesn't think Cloud hates him anymore #I'm rambling way too much in the tags lol #breath of the wild #breath of the wild link #botw link #breath of the wild zelda #botw zelda #mipha #abel #skyward sword link

[thethistlegirlwrites]

Unwanted

“We’ve got a victim sample that needs testing,” Shay says, passing a vial of blood over the counter to Dina. 

“A living one?” Dina asks, already turning around to the trays in the massive fridges behind her. There’s two of them, one with a heartbeat inside a red heart stenciled on the glass, the other with a black skull. A bit graphic, but a good reminder which one samples from the living and samples from the dead go into. 

“Yeah.”

Shay doesn’t spend a lot of time in the labs, but he’s starting to pick up on the rhythms. Living samples get priority aside from dead that have upcoming burial dates, especially when family has requested answers needing to know if they ought to pursue cremation instead. 

The two orange trays on the bottom of the dead fridge are new. 

“Starting a new system, Di?”

“Oh, just improving on the current one. These are the ones that come over from county morgues and the prisons. Unclaimed bodies with suspected venom infection. We have a ten-day window to test them unless someone makes a claim, so aside from special cases, we can leave them a little longer.” She sighs. “I hate having to triage like this at all, but…”

“You’re doing the best you can. Everyone in here is.” Shay starts to leave, then stops. “Wait, you said ten day cooling off period for unclaimed bodies?”

“Yeah. Not sure why that’s the rule, but oddly enough it doesn’t affect the fledglings. They still turn like they were at the moment of death. I watched an autopsy and two days later saw the guy walking around downtown with his shirt flung open and not a single scar on him.”

That’s a weird story and if he was in a different mood Shay would have a lot of questions about it, but right now, he has a more pertinent one.

“I was buried a lot sooner.”

Di stops with her hand on the fridge handle.

She’s got that look on her face that she has when someone who’s come in for testing gets their results back positive. 

“If whoever can claim the body waives the right to, the authorities can decide what to do as soon as they get that refusal.”

It’s worse than he thought. He wasn’t just unclaimed, just a forgotten footnote to his family.

For things to happen the way they did…he was outright rejected.

“I’m sorry.” Di’s voice is the soft consolation he didn’t ever expect to be directed at him. After all, it wasn’t like he could get worse news than ‘you are literally already a vampire’. 

Apparently, ‘you are a vampire no one wanted’ is in fact worse.

He makes it through reports and picking Sierra up from the infirmary (again) in a haze. All he wants to do is go home and go to sleep and hope he doesn’t feel this awful when he gets up. His body may not have been left to decompose for ten days, and it wouldn’t really have mattered if it had, but he feels pretty zombie-movie-rotten right now.

Rotten enough he forgot they were planning to meet Joey and Nico for drinks this morning. Sierra’s insisting on going, chucking her arm sling in the back seat the second they get to the car. “I’m not missing celebrating Joey’s promotion for a little glass cut.”

“Little glass cut that needed fourteen stitches,” Shay reminds her, but as usual, she ignores him.

She’s excited, and riding adrenaline and painkillers and the success story of the mentor program (say what she will about not being a good fit for it herself, she takes a lot of pride in what their team has done to promote it), and he figures that’s why she doesn’t notice he’s being so quiet.

Then again, maybe she’s worried he’s thinking about the college kid that sample he dropped off came from, and trying to keep him from sinking into a broody little heap of depression if it turns out the kid is in for the same hell he went through.

If that’s the case, he appreciates the effort. But he doesn’t really want to talk to anyone tonight.

Still, for Joey, he’ll make the effort. She’s doing really well; her family is an excellent motivator and given she was already existing on the fringes of society, transitioning into the new kind of life she has to lead now seems to be a little less jarring than it is for some people. 

She and Nico, along with Pete and Saanvi (neither of them had actual physical injuries and finish their reports inhumanly fast) are already waiting at a corner table at the Luna when Sierra and Shay walk in. Wren’s not there, but Emma gets a little touchy about fae and their magic in her bar, so she rarely makes an appearance here. Shay can’t blame her. She’s no fire fae, but one mini-tornado is enough. 

He makes a mental note to tell Emma her new bouncer didn’t do a thorough enough job checking for their entry marks. He let Sierra in with Shay on blind faith that she was with him and therefore trustworthy.

He’s still subbing shifts when he can, but more and more of his nights are taken up on the task force.

Joey jumps up to wave them over, still wearing her blue “Nico’s Custodial” t-shirt that stands out like a neon sign under the lights. He can see why she hasn’t changed, the logo on her chest now has the words “Team Manager” underneath it. She’s got to be proud. He is.

If he could just forget about the whole rejection thing, tonight would be amazing.

They’re a couple rounds in (and one hilarious - for everyone but Pete - mixup of shot glasses) when Joey stops answering questions about her job and starts asking everyone else how their day was. 

Sierra gives a wildly inaccurate version of how she got her injury, Pete and Saanvi tag-team explanations of whatever accounting-savvy thing it was they did to get the address of the place, and Joey even elbows Nico until he tells her about spending three hours on the phone with a supply vendor trying to find out how they were sent seven boxes of window cleaner spray bottles instead of ten jugs of bathroom sanitizer.

“What? I’m not going to work with you every day anymore,” she says when he protests that they literally work at the same company. 

And Shay knows he’s not getting out of this one with his secret intact.

“How about you? You look like you got sucker-punched,” Joey says. “I mean, not like I saw that happen too often…” 

Sierra chuckles, but it dies off as soon as she looks at him. 

“She’s right. I didn’t scare you that bad, did I?” She looks at Joey. “I was totally embellishing that story for dramatic effect. I only fell down two flights of stairs.”

He sighs. He’s going to have to tell someone at some point, because the way this is going, it’s going to eat at him like the poison that ran in his veins.

“Long story but…uh…I found out in a roundabout way from Di that my family had to have rejected any claim on my body for me to get buried when I did.”

“What the fuck?” Nico asks. He’s the only one able to get a word out.

“There’s a ten day waiting period on unclaimed bodies unless whoever is contacted about picking them up refuses to.” He looked it up while he was working on his report. The legalese was hard to read, but the gist was right. “I was buried after three.”

Sierra’s hand is wrapped white-knuckled around the handle of her knife. “Give me names.”

“No.” Honestly she probably wouldn’t have a hard time tracking his parents down, and he doesn’t think she’d actually commit a murder over something like this, but… “Sorry about that. I just totally killed the good mood.”

“No, we’re sorry. That you got stuck with such a terrible excuse for blood family,” Pete says.

Shay catches Sierra and Nico looking at each other and kicks Sierra’s foot under the table. “No one is going on any vigilante vengeance sprees. It’s over and done with. A long time ago.”

“Not if it’s still hurting you like this, it’s not.” 

Joey has a point. 

He’d like to bury this six feet deep, like whoever was in charge of dead prisoners did with him, but you can’t bury pain. There’s no getting this out of his head. It’s a permanent piece of who he is, just like being a vampire. Unwanted, rejected, refused.

He’d known his family didn’t approve of any of what his life became, and honestly he wouldn’t expect anyone’s to. But they didn’t even want his body when it was all over. 

“Screw blood family. We're a ‘blood’ family,” Sierra says. “I think it ought to mean something that you’ve drunk my blood and Pete’s.” She stops. “Wait. I just made our thing really weird, didn’t I. Shit.”

“I can’t decide if this is better or worse than the stain collection thing,” Pete groans. “Great job, Van Helsing.”

And once again, the table is laughing. 

Sierra may have royally weirded out everyone, but Shay has to admit, she’s kind of right. If Joey can get her citizenship based on where she turned, where her home earth is, then maybe waking up undead is a kind of rebirth. Maybe you get a new family. If that’s the case, then Sierra and Pete are pretty much the first people he interacted with in a real way afterward. Which does sort of make them one very messy, complicated, sometimes dysfunctional family. Somewhere along the way, they’ve added Saanvi, and Wren, and he’s pulled in Joey and with her, Nico (even if sometimes their abrasive banter makes it sound like they want to kill each other).

He can live with that. Or…you know…not.

(You can read this story and others from this universe on my WorldAnvil here!)

@catwingsathena @nade2308 @the-one-and-only-valkyrie @telltaleclerk @ettawritesnstudies  @writeouswriter @whump-place @the-lovely-wren

#febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #febuwhumpday27 #left for dead #vampire whump #rejection #shane barrett #sierra aguirre-stoker #pete jemison #saanvi desai #josefina quintero #domenico pontevecchio

[cinamun]

I’m finally home from the nonsense day I’ve had so I can fully unpack my feelings…or at least try to. This Mercy situation…idk. Mr. Isaac is an interesting case for sure. He’s really just toying with Mercy because it gives him something to do and he finds it fun, if that’s a word you could even use for his literal no feelings having ass. He doesn’t need her in any way. He has his own money. Yeah he could like sleeping with her but just like Kenji jumped on to Aaliyah and got what he wanted easily, how hard would it be for Bishop to leave and get somebody else? He definitely is trying to see it through with Mercy rather than start over because he’s already dug so deep into her and he’s made it clear that he is not leaving. So the only end I see is one of them ending up in a body bag and really Mercy is the only person that knows him well enough to be able to even have a chance at having that foresight and ability to get a few steps ahead of him. In a way Bishop does trust her. A guy like him has to have some level of trust for him to lay his head next to you every night and sleep. That’s the only time he’s truly vulnerable and even then he probably has some type of freaking spidey senses. Even if it’s just that he believes he scared her so bad that he doesn’t have to worry about her, that’s still some level of trust. Idk. Let’s say Mercy tries to go to Jayce. Do we really think she’d make it out the door? He’s yanked her up for less. And say she did manage to make it there undetected, do we not think that’d be the first place he’d go looking? Mercy has already been there so he has to know where Jay lives. He knew which dorm was his somehow AND broke in without notice. He is a seasoned criminal that knows how to leave no traces. I don’t want any of that mess near HoJay’s home. They’d be collateral damage for sure. We’re talking about a guy that set up his own blood with no remorse or second thought and faked his death successfully. He does not care about them and I’m sure he packs heat everywhere he goes. It’s looking real grim but in the words of Kenji, I could be wrong…idk.

You know what time it is sis...

"It gives him something to do" - Let's unpack.

He doesn't really have shit else to do right? Right. He escaped from prison, he escaped death, so now he's just laying low with no one to rob, set up or traumatize. Except for... Mercy. Mercy is his "something to do" given the fact that he's a psychopath. He literally needs something to fuck with, or someone to fuck up. He can't feel anything emotionally (which is why he won't/can't say he loves her) so why not have a little fun by tormenting a woman you love to fuck?

"how hard would it be for Bishop to leave and get somebody else?"

One thing about Kingpins, they value loyalty. The root word is King so loyal subjects matter. Mercy is a very easy, subserviant and loyal person in his life so, while he doesn't need her and could make someone else bow down to him, look at her... she's attractive, he's paid for some pretty badass curves and she's loyal... he knows the value in that.

Also, when you've been in prison for 3 decades, you deffo have some spidey senses, especially when you're sleep. he's probably a super light sleeper with an itchy trigger finger (in the figurative sense).

So about knowing where folks are... since the scene is over I can say that in my head, he pretended to be Jay's stepfather, called the school and found out which dorm. Or maybe he lied and told Mercy he would pick up Jays laundry and needed to know the room... remember, Mercy would give anything for Bishop to at least pretend to give a fuck about her son. So, unless she slips up, currently Bishop doesn't know where Jay lives. I mean... currently

So yes, the possibilities of death, destruction and armaggedon are very real as long as Bishop is somehow involved in their lives.

The real question I have is why would he ask her to marry him if he doesn't feel love? What is the motivation there? He doesn't need a ring to control her, he was doing fine without it. Maybe for the same reason he bought the piano?

Can't call it.... but he is certainly an interesting character.

#story stuff #breaking down bishop #for the one time