#I’m writing this late at night

[charlie-artlie]

Bonnie in the real world 💖

[butteronabun]

note: feel free to read the prequel first!

If there is something you are most proud of – it is your courageous spirit.

As the Lady of the House, it’s expected of you to be timid, soft–spoken, and docile, but unfortunately, much to the elder nobles’ dismay, you are the opposite of that. You do not have those traits.

You’re like a volcano. You explode and terrify what’s close to you due to your powerful outbursts.

Well, that’s not the only thing that’s really special – you know how to control your emotions. You know how to read the mood. You know how to fight for yourself. And if there’s anything that causes you great trouble or to the Winery, of course, you’ll boom. Especially when you have something to protect, and especially when you are Diluc Ragnvindr’s wife, who seriously has been through a lot.

You had to strengthen your will. You had to toughen up.

( And perhaps. . . that’s one of the reasons why Diluc is so enamored with you in the first place. You and your fiery personality; you and your passions; you and — ah. Everything about you. )

So. . . you’re not really scared of anything. Abyssal creatures? Nah, you’ll just scowl at these fellas and wield your weapon. Heights? You’re an adrenaline junkie. The dark? Wow. It makes you sleepy.

Ghosts? Well.

Recently, there have been rumors spreading amongst the maids. Of course, since you’re close with the girls – nothing bypasses you. And as the Lady Ragnvindr, you have the right to know what’s going on.

According to Hillie and Moco, the manor is haunted. Maybe it’s because of how old it has been, or maybe because of the previous ancestors who have resided here before. They claim that they have been seeing sightings.

So yeah, more or less, they do believe it’s haunted.

You, however, beg to differ. You are a skeptic at heart, and you definitely do not give a fuck on the paranormal — you respect the spirits, though, and only wish that they’re all resting in peace.

( Also, as an act of revenge after the Windsor Knot incident, you have been playing pranks on the maids. One of which was you playfully shaking the chairs they’ve been sitting on from behind. The ladies screamed. You laughed in mirth. Adelinde smiled amusingly at the background. )

Then one random night, while you are reading one of the novels you bought earlier from the city, you heard something.

That typical knock.

Of course, there are multiple sources for that knock. It could be anyone because there are also people inside the manor. But it’s goddamn late, and you know that you’re the only one who’s awake at this hour, because you’re waiting for Diluc.

Unlike the maids who will simply ignore and close their eyes to pretend that nothing happened, you rise from the bed, and put on a robe. You’re brave. You’re courageous. You’re skeptical. As you saunter towards the door, you grab the nearest object - a bat - and said bat is from another nation. Diluc acquired it for you because you’d gotten interested in it, but it’ll be a story for another time.

The door creaks ominously when you pull it open. Again. You’re brave. You’re courageous. You’re skeptical. It’s dark now, since Adelinde has mostly turned the lights off, and you rely with the orange glow coming from the bedroom. This doesn’t scare you at all. More than anything, you’re annoyed - because really, who dares to mess with you during this time?

Is there a fool who managed to get inside the manor? They’re seriously just asking for a death wish! Just because the Master is not here yet doesn’t mean his wife can not fight.

Then, out of the corner of your eye, you swear you saw a shadow down the hallway. Again. This really doesn’t scare you.

It angers you. Infuriates you. Because. Really? Seriously?

You sigh, and walk in that direction casually with your weapon. Let’s just get this over with, you think, Jude and Cardan’s waiting.

With narrowed eyes, you prepare yourself. If it’s a thief, or a ghost, whatever – it is unfortunate for them to face your wrath. Trespassing inside the manor? Interrupting your reading time? Absolutely unacceptable!

So when you turn, you aim and whack at the shadow without any hesitation – not until said shadow predicts your moves first, and fights back.

You blink in surprise, “Wha—“

There’s a loud thud.

The bat falls on the ground. You are also on the ground. And the shadow, the ghost—

— is pinning you down.

You feel your blood boil. You are brave. You are courageous. You are skeptical. This doesn’t really scare you, at all! You demand, “WHO the hell are— mmmph!!?”

A hand covers your mouth from speaking. You’re about to bite the hand due to the audacity, until a familiar scent floods your nostrils — grapes and firewood — and an even familiar color of hair reveals itself from the shadow figure’s cloak. Familiar red hair hangs over the sides of their head. Oh.

Oh.

The shadow figure seems to realize that you’ve calmed down, and elicits a quiet, incredibly charming chuckle. He removes his hand from your mouth, and you exhale in relief.

“This is scandalous. What would my husband say, letting a ghost pin me down?” You ask, and reach up to caress his cheek. You can’t see him behind the mask, but you know he’s being endearing as always.

“Hm? I am not a ghost,” Your beloved Darknight Hero replies. “I am your husband.”

You snicker. “You look like a ghost. Humor me, will you?”

“But I really am not? I am your husband.” He insists, and you feel his smile on your fingers. He takes ahold of your hand and kisses your palm.

Diluc says tenderly, “I’m home.”

[wonderthor]

idk why these nasty thoughts come to me in the middle of homework induced stress but … being married to college professor gojo?

-

you’re beyond frustrated.

your husband had you sitting on his insanely hard cock for the past hour. you weren’t sure how he was able to manage but there he was, sitting up in his office chair grading papers while you were spread on his lap, huffing and puffing and squirming for relief.

he was so immersed that it seemed that nothing was bothering him, only concerned about making the grading deadline that was about to come to pass in less than 20 minutes. he didn’t even bother to take off his white dress shirt and his black dress pants, his sunglasses still over his sensitive eyes to block the glare from the computer screen.

he didn’t seem to care that your juices were ruining his pants and that you were trying to oh so softly grind against him and sink down on him even deeper. not until you ground a bit too hard.

“hang on a second baby, i’m almost done okay?”

he brushed his hand over your head and stilled your hips as he spoke. his voice was so soft and unbothered, you wondered if he even felt your cunt around him at all. it made you angrier and needier for whatever reason and you ground down on him again, a bit harder this time.

his focused eyes stayed on the screen as he whispered, “i wonder why my students even use the word consequently when they don’t even know how to use it right.”

“satoruuuuu”. you huffed and moaned out in annoyance, digging your nails in his pants.

he laughed, your frustration bringing him amusement. “i know baby i know, i’m almost done okay? i promise. this is the last one and then i’ll let you have it, can you just wait a little longer for me?”

you nodded and he hugged his arms around you, leaning down to kiss your cheek.

“good girl”

you straightened up at that as he turned his attention back to his computer. he whispered more nonsense to himself as he read and typed, somehow soothing you and firing you up at the same time. you looked over at his bright eyes glowing in focus, getting lost in them before he slammed his laptop closed, making you jump a bit.

he leaned back in the chair and sighed, a smile on his face. he turned you around in his lap to face him, making you clench around him a bit.

“alright baby”

he slapped his hand against your ass, his wedding band causing a slight sting even through your panties.

“go ahead, take it”

[misc-obeyme]

Just leaving this here out of context. He’s been on my mind but my writing is all over the place lately.

[kadextra]

For ppl who want to know how the egg carton is coming along

still under construction, however the island needed something in place now so q!Bad made the mini “egg basket” under spawn. empanada, sunny, ramon, richas, and pomme have all put their pearls there.

it’s a “one click teleports all” system meant to get eggs out of danger, so they can then warp to their safe rooms at home. not meant to be perfect, only temporary, but is immune to most things like the iconic symmetry wand elevator trick! there’s been a sense of relief to have something secure :D

Bad used securitycraft block pockets as a cool feature of the basket’s design, making a small emergency chamber where eggs can pass through to survive damage and escape. he’s been running several more tests since, and got a genius idea which would make the carton & eggs completely invincible. like it’s apparently so overpowered it’d neutralize everything. the plot itself too 💀

his biggest concern though is the minute he makes a move like That, the retaliation response would ofc need to scale with it (as it has done already) and become absolutely bonkers also. he’s worried if something crazy happens they aren’t prepared for, like straight up disabling certain items or throwing them into the middle of a minefield

yeah so Bad *probably* won’t do that idea, but he is making progress!

The egg carton is one central lobby with a much bigger all-tp system branching off into one pod for each egg. he’s continuing to add tricky stuff & some pocket blocks into parts of the design. it’s insane so far, immune to all the important stuff like a whole fortified vault bunker

general destruction

chorus fruit

bicycle glitch

symmetry wand elevator

pearl water stream tampering

islander sabotage

eggs downed and non-parents can’t reach them

at the same time he’s been kitting out the kids, sunny now has an exp tank backpack & empanada has upgraded armor and tools. pomme and him are working on more sets offstream

all in all, egg protection is going well :3

[kaynineacademy]

i can know it’s for the better and still hate it with every ounce of my being.

[bonnie-toyour-clyde]

later seasons Sam slamming Dean against the wall and his back cracks and he moans so loud and obscene Sam’s all cocky like “damn, already?” and Dean’s just like “no man my backs been killing me all week and you just popped it, fuck, don’t stop”

[sweetie-peaches]

You know, despite purgatory being run by a literal evil eyeball there is a concerning lack of eye related fanart

Tw eye imagery and realistic eyes

[pistachi0art]

More Ben fam stuff I believe I have neglected to put here

[okaydays]

Colin was out with friends for the evening, so Penelope reheated some leftovers for dinner, and then assembled all the things she needed for a quiet night in - lit candles, soft music echoing from their new bluetooth speakers, a cup of tea that was still hot on the coffee table, a comfortable blanket. 

She’s sitting on the couch with said blanket and her carefully chosen book (Love in the Time of Cholera), and she should be having a great time. Back when Penelope was at her mother’s house, with all the commotion and whining, this was the kind of evening she’d dreamt about. Just her, quiet and cosy. No one to bother her.

But she lives with Colin, now. And while he is, occasionally, a bother, it’s never really unwelcome. Not when he could bat those blue eyes, shoot her a winsome grin and spin her around to the music like they’re ballroom dancing.

A quiet evening to herself seems boring in comparison. 

What Penelope wants, in truth, is exactly what she has now - a little comfortable moment, but with Colin’s arms around her instead of a blanket. Leaning against him, maybe with his own book, instead of just the sofa arm.

She misses him, really. And it’s only been an hour or so. 

Oh well. Penelope nestles back further into the couch. He won’t be back for a while, so the book will have to keep her company for now.

“Tell him yes,” She reads. “Even if you are dying of fear, even if you are sorry later, because whatever you do, you will be sorry all the rest of your life if you say no.”

Around fifteen minutes later, the front door opens. Penelope almost knocks over her mug of tea with how violently she jumps. And then - oh, it’s just Colin. And then - oh, it’s Colin!

‘Colin!’ she exclaims, interrupting her internal monologue by just stating it out loud. ‘What are you doing back so early?’ 

He’s leaning against the doorframe, flashing her that grin she adores. ‘Got all cosy, did you?’ he asks, looking around at the lit candles and bluetooth speaker and the blanket they got from his mother as a housewarming present. ‘Mind if I join in?’ 

Penelope moves along the sofa and lifts up the corner of the blanket in invitation. Colin slides right in, and they adjust - he’s now sitting where she’s just vacated, arm slung around her shoulders, and she’s leaning into him with one leg over his and one on the coffee table. 

It’s even better than she imagined.

‘Missed you,’ Colin says after a minute. She’d gone back to her book and he was on his phone, reading an article, but she looks up at that. 

‘They were talking about sports or something, and I thought, ‘I’d rather be home with my girl,’ so now I’m here,’ he says, looking right back at her. 

Something warm unfurls in Penelope’s chest at that. At the pet name, at the fact that he’d preferred her boring evening to a fun night out, at the fact that he was now here and that it was exactly where he’d wanted to be. 

Colin kisses her once, gently, and when she leans in again, he moves over to kiss her forehead instead. 

‘We can do that later. You were prepared for a quiet night, right? Don’t let me get in the way of that,’ he says, equally as gently, and Penelope shakes her head.

‘You don’t get in the way. You make it better,’ she admits, and he smiles. Pulls her in closer. 

‘Glad we moved in together,’ he says, and puts his phone on his thigh so he can reach over and carefully open her book back up, from where she’d been keeping track of her page with her thumb.

So Penelope goes back to her book, and Colin goes back to the article, and the track switches to a new piano piece. And then when her tea gets cold, he goes and makes her a new one, just the way she likes it. 

Tell him yes, the book said. She’s so glad she did.

(Also on ao3)

[wispscribbles]

When I finish my ghoap Christmas oneshot that I started way back in start December, and have been struggling with since, then it’s over for you fools 🎅

[inumbrapugnabimus-maybe]

Making decisions after 2 am is a great idea *posts all of my oc art with no context*

[faustodisco]

Actually if we want to talk about the lilienne/joyce ship I would like to bring up that it plays into the bourgeois woman’s fantasy of class dynamics in a relationship (à la lady chatterley), as well as the upper/middle class idea that their identity as women supersedes said class dynamics (and therefore they believe themselves to be in no position to oppress women of the working class) in a way that lends itself to reactionary movements like TERF ideology. As someone who lives in the uk and has been heavily affected by said ideology, joyce actually put me on high alert just by her voice and appearance.

I think it’s a mistake not to acknowledge that joyce is heavily thatcherite coded (the hair, the posh accent etc) especially when compared to lilienne who plays into the working class british woman archetype: she sounds welsh (considered a ‘lower’ accent), has young children, is a widower etc. It is fairly common to see the ‘confident mum who has to single-handedly support her young family’ in soap operas and other media, and she definitely plays into that stereotype.

Anyway, the ship is on the surface level a fun one, but let’s not overlook the framing as a one-sided and rather sinister set-up.

[danothan]

you guys remember when barry said this abt bruce

[skyward-floored]

Whumptober Day 20: Found family, Blanket

*shuffles feet*

...in my defense, I almost entirely finished this yesterday, I just wasn’t about to go trying to edit and post it at like 11:30 at night (though this note probably would have been a lot more interesting if I had lol).

Anyway. Continuation to day 17! I apologize for the delay and hope the wait was worth it 😓

Day 17

Read on ao3

Warnings: same as day 17, injuries, torture mentions, a short nightmare, just bad times for Twilight

————————————————————

Getting out was a blur.

Link forced himself to stay awake as the leader of the heroes (had he even said his name? ...If he had he couldn’t remember) carried him, but focusing on much of anything was difficult. The ever-present pain weighed him down like a heavy load, old scars and new injuries adding endless layers of suffering, and even just being carried in someone’s arms was agony.

There was the leftover burn from the magic too— though the chains that had secured him were gone, the manacles were still on his wrists and the collar was still around his neck, and they ached, his whole body still shaking from the ordeal of removing the chains.

It was a struggle not to just pass out.

But the part of him that still screamed not to trust stay on alert be prepared for him to come back was stronger. It had been honed from countless jarring awakenings, pain ripping him back from already restless sleeps, and so he stayed awake, no matter how badly he wanted to rest.

The man holding him shifted his grip as he went up some stairs, and Link felt his breath hitch as some of his injuries were nudged. The man whispered an apology, and gently squeezed one of the few spots of skin that didn’t have an open wound on it.

Link flinched anyway.

The touch immediately retreated, and Link was torn between being relieved and crying at the loss of it.

Part of him still expected them to suddenly turn on him, the kind touches becoming bruising ones, gentle hands turned to claws and knives. But... he also craved it. He desperately wanted somebody to pat him on the shoulder and hug him and run their hand through his hair, but any of the touch he’d received so far had been like torture.

He truly couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt a touch that didn’t involve pain in some way. He could barely stomach it now, no matter how well-meaning, and he hated it.

Was there anything left the Shadow hadn’t taken from him?

Voices suddenly rang down the hall, and Link stiffened, straining his ears to try and figure out who— or what they were.

One of the other heroes who’d gotten him out (the one with the Master Sword, he thought. He really needed names) called out, and soon there were unfamiliar faces and words being exchanged and questions directed at him and all he could do was close his eyes, overwhelmed by the sudden amount of people surrounding him.

How many were there?

“... got Legend pretty bad, but we beat him off and he disappeared,” a polished voice spoke, and Link twitched an ear his direction. What was he talking about? A legend?

“I’m fine,” a sharper voice cut in, and Link thought it seemed younger then the other one. “You didn’t need to use that fairy, that was our last one!”

“Well what was I supposed to do?”

“Save it for the reason we came here in the first place! He’s way more injured than I was!”

“Legend,” a softer voice spoke up, sounding exasperated, “...you were pretty bad. And you know we don’t take chances with injuries caused by the Shadow.”

A sick feeling abruptly surged over Link at the name, along with an intense hatred and fear and horror and too many emotions for his mind to handle at the moment. Link’s breath stuttered against his will, and the man holding him frowned.

“You don’t think the Shadow is still here, do you?” The small hero with the colorful tunic asked, and the voices paused.

“Probably... not,” Link croaked, and they all looked at him.

He swallowed.

“Do you know where he is?” a man in a deep blue scarf asked, and Link exhaled, gathering his strength.

“No,” Link managed to get out, and the voices stayed quiet. “Probably not. But he usually... usually powered ‘self before... fights.”

“...powered himself?” a younger voice asked in an anxious tone, and Link closed his eyes again. Hadn’t they known? Or at least figured it out based on what they’d seen?

All he was was a battery.

“Thank you Link, I’m sorry we brought it up,” the leader apologized, and Link made a noncommittal noise. “We’re almost out, hold on.”

They began moving again, and Link caught several people looking at him, though most of them stopped when they realized he’d noticed. A teenager with a stripe of pink in his hair didn’t though, and Link found himself staring, curious about the look of him. He gave him an awkward little nod, and Link tried to return it, though he wasn’t sure if he succeeded.

They were all so different, were these really heroes like him?

The Shadow had mentioned other heroes once or twice, but Link usually had no clue what he was talking about, or if he did, refused to say anything.

Besides, he was usually too busy screaming to listen anyhow.

Something bright shone out of the corner of his eye, and Link turned to look at it, his heart speeding up at the sight of a large entryway. The group hurriedly went through it, and Link was almost blinded from how bright it was after they walked through.

He blinked furiously, needing to see what was going on, and finally his eyes adjusted and he looked around in shock.

Sunlight.

Faint, barely-there, dim autumn sunlight that struggled to shine through the trees, but the sight of it nearly made Link sob.

He was outside.

He could see sunlight shining through yellow and orange leaves, eventually joined by the sound of birds and other creatures as they went along, air that wasn’t stale rushing past his face and making all his injuries hurt more but he didn’t care a bit.

He was out.

He was crying he realized, and he closed his eyes, overwhelmed by it all.

It wasn’t a trick. He’d never gotten this far the few times he’d been brought out, they were really who they said they were, they must be, and they’d gotten him out of the darkness.

Someone might’ve said something to him, but the overwhelming sensation of being outside had finally pushed Link to his limit, and he gave up on his fight to stay awake.

Darkness swept him away, it’s touch more gentle then he’d felt in a long time.

(...)

The heroes didn’t stop traveling until they were plenty far away from the oppressive ruins where they’d found Link, the trip passing in almost complete silence.

Link had passed out in Time’s arms not long after they’d finally exited, tears on his face, and Time couldn’t help but be somewhat relieved.

Watching Link remain in an almost stubborn state of alertness, ears twitching towards any sound, flinching when Time adjusted him, had been agonizing to watch. His body desperately needed rest, but he’d been stubbornly refusing it until they were out.

He’s certainly one of us, no doubt about that, Time thought with a sigh.

Sky grabbed a bedroll the moment they found a safe place to stop, and Time carefully lowered Link onto it, trying to avoid any injuries. He had several on his back, but they set him down as softly as possible, and Link didn’t wake.

“That’s really him?” Wind asked in a small voice as Warriors moved over to carefully look over all of Link’s injuries, cursing under his breath more than once.

“This is him,” Time replied quietly, trying to clean some of the blood and dirt out of Link’s hair. Now that they were out of the ruins, it was even more obvious how badly Link was in need of being cleaned up and cared for, and Time focused on not being overwhelmed by the task.

What all did he go through in there?

“What happened to him?” Legend said in a voice full of quiet horror, and Wild harshly kicked a rock into a tree.

“What didn’t?” he bit out in a fragile voice, and Sky put a hand on his arm, saying something that Time didn’t catch.

Warriors accidentally brushed a hand against Link’s collarbone then, and his eyes shot open, nearly throwing himself backwards away from the touch.

“Get away!” he snarled, voice hoarse, and Warriors immediately backed up.

“Whoa, easy,” Warriors quickly reassured, putting his hands up. “I’m only checking which of your injuries need to be cleaned so we can give you a potion. We don’t want anything healing inside them.”

Link glared at him in suspicion, but when Time moved into his line of sight, he relaxed a little.

“He’s helping, Link, I promise,” he reassured, and Link slowly relaxed, though he remained awake. Time glanced around at the other heroes as Warriors finished his examination, and saw that most of them were either looking at Link, or pointedly not looking at him as they worked on setting up camp.

It seemed none of them were quite certain how to deal with seeing one of their own in such a state.

Wild came over when he noticed Time watching them all, and he looked at Link, uncertainty on his face.

“Can I help at all?” he asked, voice stronger then it had been, and Time looked over at Warriors.

“These all need to be cleaned, and it’s not going to be easy for him,” the captain reported quietly, looking over his chest. “The faster we can get it done the better.”

“Link, we need to clean you up before we can heal you,” Time said as he knelt at his side, and Link gave him a bleary look. “It won’t be pleasant, but it needs to be done.”

Link breathed out and nodded, looking up at Time with shadows under his eyes.

“Go ahead,” he whispered.

Time gave him a faint smile, and Wild knelt beside him as they got to work.

It took a long time scrubbing all of the dirt out and disinfecting the injuries Link was coated in. They focused on cleaning the actual wounds, but Time knew Link would need the rest of himself cleaned up at some point, dirt and blood and all sorts of grime coated on his skin.

But that can wait.

Link was stiff throughout the entire process, trembling when they got to certain injuries, and trying not to cry out when they used the alcohol Warriors had provided to disinfect. The worst part was his face, which Time carefully washed up, but Link was nearly in tears by the time he finished cleaning the slice that cut right through the dark lines on his forehead.

But they finally finished, and Link sagged, his breathing shaking. Hyrule came forward then, and offered to heal him, and Link gave him a curious look.

“It’s a healing spell, it’ll be more thorough than a potion,” he explained. He faintly lit up his hands to demonstration, but Link immediately recoiled from the light.

“No, no n-no magic!” Link breathed, a flicker of terror in his eyes.

Hyrule immediately backed off, and Link’s cheeks flushed as he calmed down.

“I... I’m sorry, I-I...”

“No, I understand, that’s okay,” Hyrule said kindly, and Link swallowed and looked away, cheeks still red.

“Potions will be enough,” Time said peaceably, and Hyrule took out a few, handing them to Time. Though a fairy or healing spell would be preferable. “Take it slow, Link.”

Sky helped him carefully sit Link up, and Time helped him drink the entire red potion, slowly so as not to overwhelm his stomach. He eagerly sipped at it, and the most intense of his injuries began to knit closed, angry lines and deep gouges, and places that must be barely healed-over stab wounds—

Time exhaled, and lowered Link back to the ground as he finished, anger stirring in his chest.

The Shadow will pay for this.

“Try and get some more rest, Link. You’re safe with us,” Time said gently as he set the bottle aside, and rested a careful hand on Link’s.

He flinched, but after a long moment, slowly gripped it back. His hand shook as Time brushed his thumb over the dirtied triangles on the back, but he didn’t let go, even though Time knew holding on was hard.

You’re safe.

(...)

The next few days trickled by slowly, Link struggling to adjust to life not imprisoned in a hole being used as some sort of dark power source.

His injuries were healing, albeit slowly due to the sheer amount of them, but he was struggling more with the other scars his imprisonment had left him. He still couldn’t handle much touch, or large amounts of food, and he’d rarely sleep for long periods of time, waking up sweating and shaking from memories he hadn’t told the rest of them about yet.

Four made it his personal mission to remove the collar and bands from around his neck and wrists, since all they did was serve as a reminder for all them of the torture he’d endured.

Link wanted them off more than anyone, and he patiently sat through all of Four’s attempts at removal. The smithy finally succeeded with the help of some of Legend’s items and tools, Link nearly crying with relief at them gone, but the pale scars underneath the metal were almost worse.

They couldn’t be removed.

Time tried his best to help Link adjust, but it was hard when he could only give them the bare minimum of what he’d endured, and stubbornly tried to insist he was fine and they didn’t need to fuss over him. Even after he’d wake up gasping from a nightmare, Link would try to muffle his cries in order not to wake anyone, and couldn’t stand even a grounding hand on his shoulder.

It was at times like these Time wished Malon were here. She would know exactly how to comfort the traumatized boy they’d all found themselves with, better than Time ever could.

How do we help him, Malon? he thought one night as he studied Link’s slumbering face. His scars were harder to see in the dark, but Time knew they were there, slashed across his forehead, his chest... and his heart.

How did you ever handle me?

Time didn’t find any one answer, but as time slowly went by, Link did open up, at least a little. As they all explained more about themselves, he was willing to do so a bit too, explaining some of his journey, and telling the dark marks on his forehead actually weren’t a result of his imprisonment, though not exactly explaining what they were from.

His favorite thing to talk about was his home village though, and the longing in his voice was impossible to miss.

Time would have carried him there himself if it had been at all possible, but they were a long ways away from Ordon, and Link could barely walk across the clearing they were camped in without needing a rest. Taking him home would have to wait, as much as Time disliked it.

But in the meantime, the other heroes did their best to help Link as well, Wild figuring out what was easiest for him to eat, Warriors and Hyrule dutifully checking up on his injuries. Wind liked to tell him stories whenever he was struggling not to dwell on memories, sometimes getting Four to tell a few, and Legend even laid out his weapons and offered to let Link borrow one, until they could get him a sword of his own.

Sky often just let him hold the Master Sword, Link’s hands clutching the hilt as he sat in silence.

It seemed to comfort him, often when the rest of them couldn’t, and while Time couldn’t relate, he was glad it helped.

Time could also tell it was killing Sky not to be able to comfort Link with touch, at all, but Link was still working up to anything more then his hand being held. He would just have to do it at his own pace, as hard as it was to watch him struggle.

And things didn’t change in that regard, until all of a sudden they did.

(...)

Link closed his eyes as the tip of a blade pressed against his chin. He wouldn’t panic. This happened almost every day, and he wouldn’t panic. He wouldn’t give the Shadow the satisfaction of it.

“You’re not going to beg today?” he asked almost curiously, and Link licked his lips, tasting blood. “I might even listen, you never know.”

“I’ve never begged,” he said in a cold voice.

He wouldn’t stoop to that level, he’d sworn to himself he wouldn’t. It was one of the few ways he felt like he had a choice in the matter, and he knew it made the Shadow mad when when he remained silent.

He wouldn’t give his captor the satisfaction.

The Shadow leaned in so they were eye-to-eye, and Link stared at the crimson glow of his eyes, trying not to let his breath hitch.

“Well. Let’s see if we can change that, shall we?”

And then the blade flicked down, pain ripping across his chest. At at the same time the metal around his neck lit up like the lava on death mountain, burning into him, searing down the line where the sword had struck, and Link screamed as he felt magic bore into him and sap away every bit of his strength—

He woke up.

Link jerked upright, pain still blinding him, and he might’ve screamed but he wasn’t sure. Darkness was around him, lit only by the Shadow’s glowing eyes and he knew it had all been a dream, he hadn’t been rescued after all and he was never going to get out—

Link breathed heavily, clutching at his neck, certain he could still feel the collar, magic burning into him, feel his strength ripped away as injuries were torn into his chest—

“Link,” a soft voice said, and he heaved in another breath, hands still pressed to his neck. “Link, you’re out, you’re safe.”

He managed to raise his head, and saw Time kneeling carefully beside him, a hand outstretched in a calming gesture.

He swallowed, breathing in another shaky breath, and looked around, slowly recognizing the campsite they’d been at for the past several days. The light he’d seen was the campfire, not the Shadow’s eyes, and he felt relief start to soak through the terror.

He wasn’t there. He wasn’t back.

His breath hitched, and Time moved closer to him, offering him a hand to take if he wanted it.

Link stared at it, then began to shake, feeling suddenly overwhelmed at everything again.

He was out. He wasn’t a prisoner. He was out and safe and he’d been there for so long but he was out but he wasn’t home but he was home, brothers he never knew he had saving him and their kindness made his chest ache because he’d done nothing to deserve it and despite waking them up and slowing them down and pushing away their help they kept coming back and he’d done nothing—

A sob broke out of him as the sheer scale of everything suddenly crashed down onto him, and Time’s eye widened.

Then he leaned forward, and slowly, carefully, put an arm around him.

Link’s breath hitched with another sob, stiffening as the touch settled across his back, but as Time tried to move, he clutched at his arm, silently begging him not to let go. The touch was like fire on his back, but it soothed a part of him that he hadn’t even realized had been hurting so much.

Time hesitated as Link shuddered, then he lifted his other arm, pulling him into an actual hug, tight and warm.

That destroyed any composure Link had left, and he buried his face in Time’s shoulder, crying harder than he had in a long time. The touch all around him was awful and wonderful and agonizing and pure relief, and the sensation made him shake with how overwhelming it was.

“You’re okay,” Time whispered as Link fell to pieces in his arms. He ran a hand through his hair, and Link’s breath hitched on another sob. “You’re okay. I’ve got you, Link.”

Link had no clue as to the last time he’d received a hug, but this one, as messy and awful and painful as it was, was probably the best.

(...)

After that night, Link often found himself in a pile of heroes whenever he went to bed.

Wild would curl up at his side, Sky would end up with an arm flung out on top of him, Wind and Four by his head. Sometimes all of them would end up around him, and Link would nearly cry if he woke up and realized, falling back asleep more deeply then he had in months.

It was wonderful.

He was still struggling to get back on his own two feet, building his strength, still dealing with the fact that he’d always have the scars from his imprisonment, that he still sometimes woke up screaming in the middle of the night.

But he knew he’d have the others to support him, as hard as it was to let them. He still had moments where he’d push them away, when touch hurt instead of helped, when the thought of giving up crossed his mind, and didn’t seem like too bad of an option.

But he wouldn’t give up. Dark Link may have crushed him, but he wouldn’t be kept down, even though at times it seemed nearly impossible.

He would keep going.

And as Link leaned against Sky’s shoulder one night, Time’s arm over his shoulders, Wild and Four sitting leaned up against his feet while the others sat close by, it wasn’t nearly as hard to believe that he might be... okay.

Ordon would have to wait a bit longer, until he’d regained his strength, and could properly swing a sword, but until then...

A hand ran through his hair, and Link exhaled, the feeling of safety like a warm blanket around his shoulders.

...Link could wait.

[amazingmsme]

What'd happen if Ted just randomly kissed Tinky in the box, like, as a out of reflex last resort thing to either avoid The Horrors tm, or the tickle torture

JXVSKAVDKEVDOF I’D FUCKING DIE

Tinky would immediately start to short circuit. He’d start blushing & stuttering, but he doesn’t even know what he’s trying to say so he just ends up sounding like that one babbling goat

& yeah Ted’s a little worried his spur of the moment plan didn’t work or that he completely misread the vibes, but he is nothing if not a cocky, horny bastard so he just cranks up the charm & is like “what? I thought that’s what you wanted” & fucking SMIRKS

I mean dude is legit flirting to save his life but hey it’s fucking working

“If you let me go home, there’s more where that came from” stuff like that

Tinky literally hides his face in his shirt & he’s so flustered & giddy & goes to run away but before he does he kisses Ted back on the cheek & runs away blushing & giggling

& Ted was mostly doing it to save his own ass but after THAT he is really smitten like wtf that shit was so cute?

After a talk with his bros (- Wiggly cause I don’t think he’d be too wild about Tinky falling for a mortal) he comes back & tries to act all smooth & cool but too late, Ted knows he’s a lovesick dork & he plans on using it to his advantage

Or ya know

Ted kisses him & Tinky fucking faints on the spot like one of those fainting goats

Ted acts on reflex & catches him before he hits the ground. Tinky wakes up in Ted’s arms, staring up in his eyes & he’s blushing sooo much it’s unreal

& then they make out

(They make out regardless)