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justwinginglife · 2 months

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Hi! I absolutely loveeeee your writing!!! Hopefully you’re still doing requests hehe…

Maybe reader and Hoshina were childhood bffs and then the reader’s family sent her abroad (maybe to serve in another county’s defense force???) but now she’s back in Japan and assigned to the Third Division. And ofc they still make an amazing team and know each other by heart and maybeeeee some feelings start to rise now that they’re adults and all that???

HELLO I'm so happy you love my writing! Of COURSE I'm still doing requests, I'm having too much fun with everyone's prompts so thank you for sending me more suggestions!

No Matter The Distance

You were dreaming of Soshiro again. This time you recalled the memory of when you were eight and you'd tripped and scraped your knees so he carried you home on his back. You were such a crybaby back then. You nearly soaked his shoulder, sobbing from the pain. He sang to you the whole way home so you'd focus on his voice and not your bleeding knees. He surprisingly sang rather well.

"Sing to me again." You mumbled in your sleep as you rolled over onto your side. "I like when you sing... to me..."

When you woke up in the morning, he was neither singing to you nor carrying you, in fact, he wasn't even in the same country as you. It was a rude awakening every time and you still hadn't gotten used to it.

You knew it was naive of you to cling to memories from your past, but when you relived them every night it didn't seem so long ago. But now that you counted, it had been about six years since you'd seen him. You'd known each other since preschool and you'd parted ways when you both turned 18. Your parents thought you'd make a better life for yourself in America so you were shipped overseas, never to see his smiling face again.

You wondered if he dreamed about you too. You wondered if he was even the same person you remembered. It'd been over half a decade- a lot could change. You hoped he was still the same. You knew that was naive too.

You try to quit sulking and you finish getting ready for work. You clock in at 0800 and report for duty. You are surprised to find that your commanding officer has been waiting for you to arrive. She takes in the sight of you as if it's the last time she'll see you. Then she smiles. "Good morning Vice Captain."

You nod to her. "Cap'n. Mornin'. What're all the long looks for?"

Her weight shifts and she clears her throat. "Well, it seems the General has made an alliance with the Japan Anti-Kaiju Defense Force and as a show of good faith, he's sending one of our best soldiers to their side."

You raise an eyebrow. "The Director General himself? Who could be important enough from our team that he'd send so far across the seas?"

She coughs.

OH.

"Maybe, I don't know, the youngest female to make Vice Captain in the shortest amount of time? Maybe someone with, I don't know, Japanese background?"

Yup.

You can't decide if you're honored, nervous, scared, or excited. You haven't been back home in so long. Will it still be the same? The same restaurants, the same stores, the same people. Will they still be waiting for you?

"You fly out at 1200."

Your brows furrow. "You're giving me 4 hours to pack up all my things and say goodbye to everyone? That's ridiculous."

She nods sympathetically. "I know. But he wants to get this show on the road, it seems."

You sigh. "Alright. I'll head back to my place, please assemble the squad before I go so I can give everyone my best wishes."

You pack up your entire apartment in two hours. You have less things than you thought you did. You guess that some small subconscious part of you kept you from collecting too many things that would keep you grounded here. Maybe you always knew you'd return home.

It takes even less time to say bye to everyone. You're ready to ship out in just under three hours and the pilot shrugs, saying you're his only passenger anyway and he can afford to leave early. The Director General lent you his private plane after all.

You can't do anything about your nerves so you make the best of this trip, ordering lavish foods while you read. Your favorite book is one that Soshiro bought for you and the ink from the personal message he wrote on the inside of the front cover is so faded from you constantly rubbing your thumb over it nostalgically.

Soshiro. You'll be there soon.

You sleep through most of the flight. You dream about him again, to no one's surprise at this point.

This time you're both 17, you both snuck out of training together to attend a typical high school party. You were in agreement that the two of you wanted one normal high school experience before you both went off and joined the Defense Force and became stiff, disciplined officers. Of course, you'd tease Soshiro that you couldn't see him ever being stiff or disciplined.

Anyway, you'd been playing spin the bottle and Soshiro's spin landed on you and the both of you ended up in a closet together.

"Well this is a stupid game." He grumbled as he searched for the light to the closet. He would never make you do anything against your will and he found it ridiculous that that's exactly what this game was made for.

But you didn't find it ridiculous. You found it lucky. Your heart was beating loudly in your chest. You grabbed his hand before it reached the light switch and you kissed him in the dark.

He hesitated and then he kissed you back, gently pressing you up against the wall.

When someone knocked on the door seven minutes later, he locked the door and stayed in there with you until he was ready to leave. He must've known if the two of you stepped outside, you'd both go back to acting like nothing happened. Like you had plenty of time to figure out these messy feelings of yours. But neither of you could predict that you wouldn't even be in the same country as him a month later, so you both kept ducking the topic and pushing your feelings for each other down. And then it was too late.

Six years too late, you thought to yourself as your eyes fluttered open. The plane was descending. You were arriving in Japan as last.

You wondered who you'd be serving under and if Soshiro would be in the same platoon. The JAKDF had several divisions, it wasn't guaranteed that you'd even be in the same one as him. You'd been told that the position of Vice Captain had been recently opened at one of the Divisions and you were there to fill that spot. You'd do your best to fill the shoes of whoever came before you and make your team back in America proud.

As you step out of the plane you're greeted by your new teammates in the Third Division. Your eyes scan the crowd and they finally find the person they're looking for.

Your breath catches in your throat and you freeze on the last step of the plane.

He holds a hand out to you to help you down all the way.

"Welcome to the Third Division. I'm Captain Hoshina."

You take his hand and step down the last stair. You don't let go of his hand even when he's introducing you to the troops. You think this might be you dreaming about him again and you don't dare let go just in case.

He doesn't seem to mind. He keeps a firm grip on you and when you've finally greeted everyone he tells them he needs to discuss more matters with you privately.

The two of you enter his office and he closes the door behind him. Before you can speak, he's wrapped you up in a warm hug. "Vice Captain, huh? Impressive." He whispers, still holding you close.

You close your eyes and just soak in his voice. "Not as impressive as you- Captain Hoshina. And here I always thought I'd beat you to Captain when we were kids."

He chuckles and the familiar rumble of his laughter makes your heart skip several beats. He releases you from his arms so he can get a good look at you, but he still holds your hands tight in his. "I really never thought I'd see you again. And look at you now. Gorgeous as ever."

You blush. "Still cheeky I see."

He grins widely. "Still me. Always."

You're relieved. He doesn't seem to have changed at all, just gotten a little taller. And a little more... you gulp, a lot more muscular. You didn't realize it when he was holding you close because you were so focused on the way he smelled and the way he sounded. But now that you were getting a full view of him, you could see the efforts of his training peeking through his shirt. You blush deeper. Thank god he's a little dense and doesn't notice. He's just excited to see you again, he doesn't care if you're flushed or not.

"Hey- dinner on me later? We can go to that diner we liked." He nudges your arm.

You smile. "Yeah? I'm game, especially if you're buying."

He walks you to your room and then leaves you alone to unpack your things. You wish he wouldn't go but you know he has a division to run.

"Captain." You say to yourself, shaking your head. You hoped he would be in the same division as you, but you never could've imagined he'd be working this closely with you. You'll have to pay a visit to the shrine later and thank the gods.

You finish unpacking and you meet Soshiro for dinner in the cutest outfit you can find. You wonder if he'll notice.

He notices.

"So you don't wear the combat suit 24/7?" He teases.

You roll your eyes thinking he's not going to say anything else but then he looks away for a moment.

"You, um... you look real good."

You wonder where his confidence from earlier went. He can get away with calling you gorgeous but now here he is making the word "good" look difficult. You almost laugh.

He opens the door to the restaurant for you and then when you're led to a table, he pulls the chair out for you. You don't remember him being such a gentleman but he was still a teenager last time you saw him. It seems he has grown some after all.

As you eat dinner, you fall back into old rhythms- you steal food off of his plate and he does the same to yours. You even sword fight him with your chopsticks and he laughs the same familiar laugh that you love so much.

Then the drinks start to hit harder and the air seems to change between the two of you.

"So listen..." He starts, cautiously. He seems to get caught up in his own thoughts because he doesn't finish his sentence.

"I'm listening." You nudge him.

He gives you a small, pinched smile. "I don't know how to say this actually." He admits.

You wonder if he's thinking what you're thinking, but it's been so long you can't be sure. "You can say anything to me, you know that." You try to reassure him so that he continues.

He sighs. "Do you... remember going to a party? Back in high school?"

Ah. So he is thinking the same thing as you. You nod slowly.

He clears his throat uncomfortably. "Do you... remember what happened at that... party?"

You nod again, your cheeks starting to heat up at the thought of that mind-blowing kiss.

"It's just... we never... we never talked about it. And then you were just gone- just like that. And I know it's stupid to be bringing it up again so many years later, but you're the exact same as you've always been and I'm the same as I've always been and I just thought..." He trails off.

"You just thought...?" You lean in, hoping to god he finishes his sentence.

"I just thought... maybe now we could... talk about it? If-if you wanted."

"Okay, what do you have to say about it?"

He laughs at that. "Boy, you really don't make this easy do you? You never have."

"Sorry. I'll go first then, okay?"

He nods and waits for you to speak.

"I regretted it for six years."

He winces.

You backtrack. "Wait, sorry that's not how it was supposed to come out. Now you're making this hard."

You both laugh. Then he takes your hand.

"I think what you meant to say was you regretted leaving it the way we did?"

You nod. You're glad he's still able to understand you so well even after all these years.

"I do too. I thought, god, if I could just get one chance to tell her how I felt I'd do it. And now you're here and I'm stumbling over my words. But I need to say this. Because I can't wait another six years for you to find out that I love you. Because I love you. Always did, and still do."

You start to cry before you even realize it's happening. He immediately rushes over to your side of the table to brush the tears away.

"Hey, hey, did I say something wrong? Tell me. What's going on in that beautiful mind of yours?"

You can't figure out how to put the words together properly so you kiss him. He kisses you back more intensely than he did back then and you wish you can just freeze time so he can keep kissing you like this. Then he pulls away.

"You know, love, I like the way you're thinking but you still haven't given me an official answer."

You laugh. "I love you too- I should think it was obvious."

"Some of us only have half the brain that you do and need verbal confirmation."

"You got that right." You tease.

He wraps you up tight in his arms.

"So does this make us boyfriend-girlfriend?" He asks in his best "high schooler" voice, grinning like an idiot from ear to ear.

You roll your eyes. "Take me to the prom and we'll see about that."

He laughs. "Just let me date you already damnit."

You kiss him again.

"Was that a yes?"

You nod.

"Okay, again, I'm just checking."

#kaiju no. 8 #soshiro hoshina #soshiro hoshina x reader #oneshot #anime #hoshina #hoshina x reader #anime fanfic #fluff

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ducktracy · 16 days

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YEARS AGO i tried multiple attempts to humanize Porky and Daffy and now i'm trying again. i'm copy and pasting from another server so please forgive the word vomit

I SURE LIKED THIS A LOT BETTER WITHOUT COLOR. first one is the "accurate" version in that realistically, Porky is not going to have pink anime hair. he also has brown eyes apparently (source: one off radio broadcast from like 1945 with him saying this being completely reliant on a punchline. sexy woman is flirting with him. she says he has pretty brown eyes and he says she has pretty brown eyes too) and unfortunately Daffy has been portrayed with blue eyes multiple times and seeing it in human form is like a crime against humanity. but i had to do an Eliza safe version with the second of "less accurate but will stop me from wanting to heave". just better color harmony

so much 80s merchandising has Porky in a three piece suit for whatever reason so im bringing that here. Daffy is having a culture clash because i modeled his outfit after 1940s casualwear (though you'd never be able to tell with the colors LOL) but i modeled him a bit after a young Sammy Davis Jr (and Cab Calloway as well though that's more of a mental inspiration rather than reflected here) and the flat top/accidental like Elvis curl??? i tried to implement his three hair spikes and the ref image i used of Sammy Davis Jr he has like the slightest curl in his hair. but anyway that all is very '50s so there is a clash of the decades. Porky i modeled after Roscoe Arbuckle a bit because i thought i remember hearing he was an inspiration but i might have been thinking of Roscoe Ates instead who was a vaudevillian that did a bait and switch stuttering act. though i would be shocked if Arbuckle WASN'T an inspiration. ANYWAY. i was reminiscing on my old human designs and was like "these could be so much better"

v these are the old human designs from 2020

#not bad for a guy that never took a lesson in his life!#lt #looney tunes #daffy duck #porky pig #i probably could've made Porky wider... i wasn't expecting this to blossom into what it did so i didn't really set up a proper construction

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felassan · 2 months

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Game Informer:

"BioWare On Returning To The Dragon Age Series, 10 Years After Inquisition by Wesley LeBlanc on Jul 17, 2024 at 02:00 PM With 10 years between 2014's Dragon Age: Inquisition, the most recent release in the series, and the upcoming Dragon Age: The Veilguard, the latter has much riding on it. It's both a follow-up to a beloved game from a decade ago in one of BioWare’s most beloved series, and it's the first BioWare game since the launch of 2019's Anthem, a live-service multiplayer effort EA sunset less than two years later. Curious about the pressure surrounding the release of Veilguard, I spoke to BioWare about lessons learned from following up on Inquisition and what it's been like returning to this series so many years later."

"We start out in pre-production," BioWare general manager Gary McKay tells me when I ask about BioWare's guiding principle for developing Veilguard. "We spent a lot of time iterating, experimenting, and innovating on different things. At one point, it was multiplayer – we did a hard look at multiplayer, but we felt we really couldn't return to our roots. And when we asked ourselves, 'What is the game that we want to develop,' we really wanted to get back to our roots, which is amazing storytelling. It's about those unforgettable characters. And it's about having the opportunity to influence the world. "And we really felt multiplayer wouldn't do that. But single-player RPG is really where we wanted to spend our time, so after spending that time in pre-production, really honing in on what the vision of this game is, and [being] afforded the opportunity to deliver on the creative promise of this game, [now] we're really excited about what's coming out." McKay says Veilguard blends seasoned veterans with new voices and perspectives, and "that's really important for this game." For example, people like former Dragon Age producer Mark Darrah, who left the studio in 2021 but is now consulting for Veilguard, and creative director John Epler together have decades of experience at BioWare. They work with people like game director Corinne Busche, who joined BioWare shortly after the launch of Anthem (but brings in a love of Dragon Age from the series' 2009 start), every day to develop the game we'll be playing this fall."

""[You] want to have different perspectives, different backgrounds," McKay says. "If you bring a bunch of people together that have only known one thing, that's not where you see creativity. That's not where innovation comes from. Innovation comes when you have [...] that past history and blend it with some new voices and perspectives.""

"Darrah has been attached to BioWare in some capacity since its early Baldur's Gate days, and when I ask him about the studio's progression from that series to the next Dragon Age, he says it's been amazing. "The thing that is so amazing about Veilguard is this is the game where we finally said out loud that BioWare's greatest strength is telling stories through characters. If you go all the way back to Baldur's Gate 1, Baldur's Gate 2, these games are telling stories through characters, but there wasn't an intentionality behind that. And in this game, we're finally putting that intentionality first and foremost, putting the characters first, building the game around that, around those character moments, which is really the best way that BioWare knows how to tell stories." I ask Darrah if there's anything Veilguard is doing that BioWare wanted to do on previous games but couldn't, and he says, "Storytelling through animation." In previous games, each character moves in "exactly the same way," and everyone is homogenous in that way, he says. "If you put on a suit of armor, and you put it on Alistair, you looked exactly the same standing right beside each other. "Now, we're able to keep the character coming through in the visuals and the motion, even as you're customizing them, which just wasn't possible in the past." He also mentions BioWare's confidence in its game development engine for Veilguard, which, like Inquisition, uses EA's proprietary Frostbite. "Dragon Age: Origins and Dragon Age II were doing what they could with the technology they had; Dragon Age: Inquisition did a good job of using Frostbite respective of the engine," Darrah says. "But with this game, there's a better understanding of the engines over a lot more time, but also, the technology of the hardware that the game is going to be played on moving forward [is] able to do a lot more stuff [and] execute it visually to a degree that just wasn't possible in the past." On Inquisition [link to embedded video of old GI coverage on DA:I in the DA:I days - I think it was a shortened version of this one]"

"With 10 years between Inquisition and Veilguard, BioWare has to balance satisfying longtime fans of the series with newcomers jumping in for the first time. Epler says the studio worked hard to ensure Veilguard is respectful and referential to previous games without feeling like you need to have played Inquisition, Dragon Age II, or Origins to fully understand what's going on. "So while there are references, there are moments that we have callbacks, it really is its own story, its own continuation with a different cast, with different characters," he says. "Historically, Dragon Age has always had a different cast per game, so that gives us a lot of freedom in terms of what we want to lean on in the past and what we want to really bring in that’s new and forward-facing." Darrah adds that Veilgaurd's events play out with a storytelling goal for the future of the series. "This is a game which takes the ball that Inquisition had, puts its own spin on it, has its own characters, takes its own direction, but continues the path forward into the future," he says. "Dragon Age has always been about change. Every game has had a new protagonist, and it's been exploring its own space all the time, and this game is no different. [Veilguard] does a good job of bridging that gap. The really super fans of Dragon Age have actually made a lot of really educated guesses, and some of them are pretty right about where the franchise is going. The thing we need to make sure is that people who may have only played Inquisition are understanding what the franchise is really about – it's about a new protagonist, it's about change, it's about evolution – and don't come in expecting a direct sequel to a game they played and then are disappointed. This game is something new, something that evolves, something that is greater than what came before, the same as each game [...] before it."

"For Busche, balancing newcomers and fan expectations in Veilguard is about managing assumptions. She says Veilguard takes place in a part of Thedas BioWare has only hinted at. The team has hinted at the Grey Warden fortress of Weisshaupt, the depths of Arlathan Forest, the Rivain Coast, the Grand Necropolis of Nevarra, and Minrathous, but now players will finally go to these stories' locations. "We have a rich history of world-building within the IP, so existing players will be familiar with these places and very excited to go to them and explore their mysteries," Busche tells me. "But for our new players, we're not assuming you know anything about these locations. I would say that also extends to the characters; we've taken great care in how we introduce each and every single companion and major story figure within the game [with that in mind]."" "Epler tells me that Veilguard differs from Inquisition and other Dragon Age games in the way that Rook, the player character, can't save the world without the characters they meet on their journey. "Dragon Age has always been about characters but to some degree, it's almost felt like we've lucked into that," he says. "Inquisition is a story that ultimately, you, the main character [...] have the biggest part to play. We wanted to tell a story this time where you literally cannot save the world without these characters. Beyond that, though, we also wanted to give them their own arcs that can run parallel to the main story and really give them that kind of deep storytelling our fans really enjoy." Though he's biased for obvious reasons, Epler says Veilguard is his favorite Dragon Age game he's worked on (and he's worked on all of them, starting as a quality assurance tester on Origins). He says one reason for this is the storytelling in the characters, companions, and relationships."

"They have their friendships, they have their rivalries, and lean into that concept," he tells me. "You're not just pulling together a bunch of people who will do whatever you say. You're assembling a family, and that becomes the core of what the Veilguard is all about. It's about taking this group, this found family, and saving the world, side by side with them." For more about the game, including exclusive details, interviews, video features, and more, click the Dragon Age: The Veilguard hub button below."

[source]

#dragon age: the veilguard #dragon age: dreadwolf #dragon age 4 #the dread wolf rises #da4 #dragon age #bioware #feels #long post #longpost #video games #alistair theirin #fav warden #anthem

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hyperactively-me · 9 months

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i'll be home for christmas, reunited with simon 🎄🫂🎁 i thought i had this in the queue, but it wasn't 😪 so here is a christmas eve work <3 merry belated christmas to all who celebrate. also, i listened to "i'll be home for christmas" by bing crosby whilst writing this...absolutely perfect!

warnings: suggestive flirting, none

It’s Christmas Eve.

A Christmas tree sits in the corner of your living room, the twinkling lights gleaming and branches spilling with decadent ornaments and sparkling tinsel.

Two stockings are pinned up to the wall, one for you, and one for him.

You had spent hours meticulously adorning the house with festive decorations, hoping to fill the empty spaces with the warmth of the holiday spirit. Yet, despite your cheerful surroundings, an overwhelming sense of loneliness grips your heart. The apartment felt too cold for comfort, cold air seeping in through microscopic cracks in the windows.

Your boyfriend, Simon, had regretfully told you that he wouldn’t be able to make it home for Christmas due to a mission taking longer than originally expected. He let you know about two weeks ago, the guilt in his voice clearly evident over the phone. His absence weighs on you, making Christmas feel less like a celebration and more like a somber waiting game.

You tried to busy yourself with work and other things, an attempt to not feel so sad about Simon not spending Christmas with you this year.

Now, as you sit on the couch, staring at the flickering flames in the fireplace, you can’t help but replay the memories of past holidays spent together. The laughter, the warmth, and the joy seem like distant echoes, and the empty space beside you on the couch accentuates the obvious void he’s left behind.

The clock ticks away the hours, and with each passing minute, the hope that he might just show up lessens. Just when you resign yourself to a lonely Christmas Eve, you hear a sound that jolts you from your thoughts—the unmistakable creak of the front door opening.

At first, you’re afraid that someone broke into the house. Your heart races, fear suddenly taking over. Your eyes widen, scanning the room for something to defend yourself with, but then you hear it—that familiar voice calling your name.

“Hey there, love. Don’t go reachin’ for a weapon; it’s just me.”

You're momentarily speechless, your eyes wide with disbelief. Relief washes over you as you recognize Simon’s voice.

You nearly trip over your own feet as you rush to the doorway. There he stands, wearing a black hoodie and black sweatpants alongside a heavy duffel slung over his shoulder. Simon’s piercing gaze meets yours, and a small, sheepish smile graces his lips. The loneliness you were feeling evaporates into thin air, replaced by a surge of joy. His familiar face is a sight for sore eyes, and the exhaustion etched across his face fades away in the warm light of your shared home.

“Simon!” you exclaim, throwing your arms around him. His hug is firm, and you can feel the tension of his absence slowly releasing from his body as he relaxes in your tight embrace.

“Surprise,” he says, his voice a soothing balm. His hands run up and down your back, kneading into your skin.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t make it back in time,” you manage to whisper, your voice muffled against his chest.

Simon chuckles softly, his warm breath tickling your ear. “Miss me much?”

You pull away, but your hands remain on his shoulders as you look up at him. “More than words can say. I’m completely surprised.”

Simon’s arms encircle your midsection protectively. “I couldn’t stand the thought of you spending Christmas alone. I managed to wrap things up sooner than expected.”

He leans down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. As you pull away, Simon’s gaze lingers on your face, his eyes growing with an intensity that you know he’s holding himself back on.

“I can’t believe you’re really here,” you whisper.

Simon’s grin widens, a playful glint in his eyes. “Believe it, baby.”

With a gentle nudge, he leads you back to the living room. The Christmas tree and the cozy ambiance of the apartment suddenly feel more welcoming with Simon’s unexpected arrival.

“You’ve done an amazing job with the decorations,” he comments, surveying the room. He drops his duffel bag to the floor.

You glance around, admiring your own handiwork. “I wanted everything to be perfect in case you could make it home.” You shiver slightly, the lingering cold from earlier still not fully out of your system.

He pulls you into another hug, his warmth enveloping you. “It’s more perfect than I could have imagined. Now, how about I keep you warm, lovie?”

Simon sits you down on the couch, and you spend the rest of the evening talking, laughing, and cuddling in front of the Christmas tree. The cold loneliness that had settled in the apartment earlier in the day is replaced by the warmth of sharing body heat with your boyfriend and the comforting presence of a loved one.

#simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon “ghost” riley x reader #simon “ghost” riley x you #hyperactivelyme

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willowed-wisp · 2 months

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HER KNIGHT, HIS HEART - part eight

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Ser Harwin Strong x female!OC/ x reader

WARNINGS: swearing, descriptions of childbirth, mentions child loss, suggestive themes, violence, Criston Cole getting his ass kicked

TEN YEARS LATER…

Elspeth was on a mission, her destination were Alicent’s chambers. Every part of the woman was swollen and she didn’t know whether it were her breasts or beneath her diaphragm that burned. It had been like that very early on in her seventh pregnancy.

Nobody was surprised when she popped out an army, the depravity sounding from their chambers… it wouldn’t take a genius to know she’d become pregnant over and over.

Their eldest, Alyric, was three-and-ten while their youngest, Lyonei, was four.

Knocking on the door… she met a mop of platinum blonde, a strong jaw followed. Her stare lasted mere seconds, turning attention to the open-eyed, mortified sister of hers. “Alicent…” Her head shunned away. Now her focus remained on that of the Rogue Prince- who had been tamed by Laena Velaryon that past decade, “What in the hells did you say?”

“Only the truth, daughter…”

Storming over to him, “I will never be your daughter!” She stared up at him, the same scowl he himself had and the same wickedness- even in High Valyrian. It was returned with a smile.

“The blood of the dragon runs thick…” By the Gods, she would stab him if she got the chance.

“I’m nothing like you.”

“That’s yet to be seen.”

She reminded herself of why she was here- why had he been there in the first place? “What business do you have here?”

“I was asking The Queen if my grandchildren might accompany the princes down to the Dragonpit…”

“Can you stop speaking fucking Valyrian? Prince Daemon, please leave. My sister and I have matters to discuss…” He gave a less than respectful bow. They both seethed. “You are his kin. And it somehow slipped your mind to inform me!” That was their mother in her.

Elspeth's own anger boiled deeper- primal even. Yet she contained that eruption- it wasn't good for the baby. For now. “Father told me well over a decade ago,” that struck a heartstring in the younger, “I didn’t say anything to protect you… you had more than enough on your shoulders.” Elspeth observed the face change. “I was embarrassed.”

“How so?”

“I am a bastard, Alicent. I’ve been trying to escape it… escape him… keep him away from my children,” Rage turned to recoil- for fifteen years she had felt hopeless with the sword over her head, “Please, sister… understand that... I need to protect them…”

It wasn't a scapegoat nor did she cry crocodile tears... she had always been trying to keep her kids safe. It didn’t matter if Alyric was thirteen, he still couldn’t deal with the likes of Daemon Targaryen. Even if his own father was Lord Commander of the City Watch. Luckily for her sanity the prince along with his wife and twin girls were headed to Pentos that next day.

"When you were younger you always looked up to me... what changed?" An ambush down the corridor.

A roll of her eyes, "Could we have this conversation later? Every part of me is swollen, my ribs are like daggers and I cannot be bothered with your manipulation today..." Despite the agony she paced quicker, or so she thought.

"You're just like your mother," Gods, did she wish she was armed.

Continuing forward, "Don't talk about my mother. Not after the pain you caused her."

His hand, with a surprising level of gentleness turned her to face him- the eight month old bump affirmed a comfortable distance. "What did Otto Hightower tell you? That I attacked Alyrie?"

"Didn’t you? Then why am I here with your blood in my veins..."

A sincere, stern look on the man's face- he hesitated in his words, "The times I shared with your mother were of her choice... my decisions may be... questionable, at times... but I’m not heartless." She shoved him away, unsure.

"That's yet to be seen, my prince..." She did the proper action of a curtsy, unable to commit to it fully due to her condition. That confused her even more.

Had her father lied to her all of those years? An entire decade.

She did naturally have a liking for Daemon in an idolisation type of manner, they shared the same temperament; knowing fully well why they did.

The woman needed to see her children, probably in the courtyard…

She shares his majesty’s presence on the balcony- spying if her wayward children and husband were in fact there. “Your Grace,” she curtsied with some labour. It had definitely been the hardest pregnancy- even when her twin boys, Jaimes and Ronin, made home in her stomach. She hoped the bloating would fade when she delivered- not wishing to feel blistered her entire life.

The King- dishevelled due to illness- waved his hand, “No need for such formalities, Elspeth- we are family,” he didn’t know how closely related they truly were.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” he motioned for her to take a perch- she smiled up at the Hand of the King, her father-in-law.

Turning her attention down to the courtyard she saw no knight of the name Harwin Strong, only that of Criston Cole. With him, the princes and her own children stood. Listening to every word he said. “I’m going to see if Ser Criston requires assistance with training,” her feet despised her but she stood. Buckling slightly, held firmly by Lyonel.

“Maybe some rest would benefit you, Elspeth,” the man said with caution. “Ser Criston is the best swordsmen in the Seven Kingdoms- he can handle training the children…”

She patted the hand on her shoulder, “Rest is for the dead,” she joked, though she could be in the grave that very next month.

Early on into her pregnancy she was diagnosed with ‘toxic birth disease’. The mortality rate was… devastatingly high, and she informed the Maesters not to divulge to her Lord husband- he worried so…

She would make it through… she had to for the children she made her way down for.

That same courtyard she used to hack training mannequins and Harwin would always catch her. But now she bore witness to her own children- even her own girls alongside their brothers and cousins.

Alyric stood out like a sore thumb, tall and already gaining his father’s ballast. Even his smile was like Harwin’s and his fighting stance. That grin turned into a scowl, and shouting commenced. “Ser Criston, Luke is struggling, if I may-,”

“No little Lord Strong, you may not. Lucerys must learn, as I did from the pommel of a sword or the blade itself,” Elspeth liked neither the condescension nor the tone the knight used. “If you’re a trained warrior, Alyric, spar with me.” He grappled the front of the boy’s shirt, who was able to maintain balance from the brute force.

She staved off intruding- Alyric wouldn’t care for the embarrassment of conceding because of his mother being protective. Like his father, Alyric was formidable in stature and presence but that didn’t provide technique.

Ser Criston presumed he would have the eldest Strong on the floor in one strike but Alyric was a young brute. Until the knight crushed him to the ground, “You’re not the best there has been, boy. Maybe the Lord Commander needs to teach you modesty,”

That was the last straw, “Ser Criston.” The children shivered at that voice- for there was nothing they feared more than the wrath of their mother, “We are finished here for the day children…” voice as soft as silk and as gentle as a feather. They ran along- Gwen ushering the younger ones out.

And she did not care if they had an audience overhead, “I do not take orders from you. You may be of royal birth, but you are still a bastard.” He must have overheard Daemon and Alicent.

“You forget yourself, Cole. Strong words for a common-born concubine.” His hand wrapped her cheek before she could think. Not phased she readied for his raised fist, aiming for her face. But he found the floor thanks to a swiftly negotiated knee to the crotch. Done so with grace and decorum. “A reminder of who my father is. Now stay on your knees… where you rightfully belong,” venom rolled off her tongue. Looking up towards the disapproving faces of the King and Lyonel Strong.

A face far too sweet for the person behind it gave a snide smirk, “You sound just like him,” he paused - studying her every move, “Your mouths move far too much, for what you both are… conniving cunts.” Contemplating whether or not to crouch down, deciding not to; being eight months along.

"You're the one on the floor after hitting a lady who is with babe..." Her shadowed green gaze bore straight into the man's soul, "What a sad little life, Cole... now they all see what a wretch you are."

Elspeth agreed with him. She did sound like Daemon, but at least with the Rogue Prince you knew what to expect.

The unexpected.

Clutching her swelled stomach, she paced to her sister's chambers. Heart pounding, her back felt constricted. Elspeth greeted the guards stationed outside of the door with politeness, stepping into the room- finding those big brown eyes. "Elspeth...?"

"Your 'sworn shield' just hit me... King Viserys and the Lord Hand saw it for themselves…" Elspeth's forehead felt clammy- cheeks reddened.

"Ser Criston... hit you?" The woman didn't know if she nodded in answer to her sister.

Alicent's arm wrapped around her older sister- feeling how hot she was. The unmistakeable coiling in her lower stomach was all too familiar, "Fuck..."

"What is it?" Something felt different, body numb. She could no longer feel or hear Alicent. To her, she was in a forest with her mother's long red hair swaying as they rode deeper into the trees. But in reality her sister screamed for the assistance of Maesters and for the presence of the strongest knight in the Seven Kingdoms.

Curls were the first thing she awoke to followed by bloodshot eyes like the ocean. "My strong knight..." Milk of the poppy, she presumed- reaching her hand to rub his cheek with her thumb. His rigidity solved itself as he welcomed that warmth- not nearly as searing as she had been beforehand. But even under the influence, Elspeth knew her husband- something was direly wrong. "What troubles you?"

Then she remembered snippets. How she rattled the King's quarters with cries to keep her baby safe... "No... we couldn't have lost the baby... Harwin..." Tears wrapped his eyes, shaking his head. The murmurs of child-like giggles in the distance.

"We have a daughter..." But a plague cast over him, until he broke. Normally she was the one cracking like a piece of glass. His name sounded so divine on her lips and her touch a warm reminder that he was alive as was she.

His body rocked the bed with sobs as her arms enveloped his bulking frame. His golden cloak beneath her fingertips, "We're both here. The Stranger will have to make a better attempt..."

"You were dead,” time stopped. She hadn’t been crying, but when Harwin; a man who possessed such redoubt, quivered in his whisper… she couldn’t help it. “The Maesters said that your insides failed you, and by some miracle,” a tear shed, “you are here… by my side. And so is our darling daughter. What shall we name her?”

Her head crashed against the pillow. The look on his face imprinted in her memory- one of joy laboured by disparity, “A miracle… Mirabel… our little Mia,” the innocent face of the girl present- Rhaenyra holding the girl in her arms.

She had been crying, “She may be the cutest button of your brood… what is her name?”

“Mirabel… our Mia…”

Criston Cole was brought to justice. The King was appalled, and the prince was blind with fury. “Ser Criston Cole… you have been a faithful knight to the Crown, but today I witnessed abhorrent actions that are forbidden as a member of the Kingsguard nor of any noble man,” Elspeth watched on alongside her husband, “Before I cast judgement, speak… what do you have to say for yourself?”

Elspeth respected the king, but he was too lenient. “The words of Lady Elspeth are as tainted as her blood, Your Grace…”

“What do you mean? Lady Elspeth is a just, fair woman,”

“She is a bastard, Your Grace, not the daughter of Otto Hightower,” Viserys’ laughed at the man knelt down.

Elspeth was frozen in the crowd of nobility- all eyes on her, “And who may her father be?” The King held genuine amusement to the accusation.

The heavy doors opened, and so entered the Prince Daemon, “She is my kin.”

Ser Criston, no matter how true his claim had been, was exiled to the Wall. While Elspeth became legitimised under the eyes of the King and of the Seven. Though, Viserys was not thrilled- he was glad peace was made with Daemon, who remained in Kings Landing.

Laena passed away giving birth to their third child, killed by dragonfyre- Vhagar. The question of Rhaenyra’s children wasn’t thrown into contention, and they were never to know that the disgraced knight Ser Criston Cole was their father. But Elspeth knew what Jace and Luke were- but she loved them like her own sons. She would protect them with her dying breath.

And she did not break that vow, even against her own sisters. Lylith had always loved animals, held such compassion that she spent her free days compiling a bestiary of the creatures of Westeros. She was unlike Gwen, who loved hunting- alike their mother. The second born daughter had never detailed Vhagar up close.

During the wake of Laena Velaryon, she sought out the she-dragon. They feared she had been eaten, but she arrived returned on green back of the biggest dragon in the Seven Kingdoms. Harwin didn’t know whether to be proud or terrified that his family owned the two largest dragons - except Vermithor - in the Seven Kingdoms.

Peace was quaint in the years following.

Lyonel Strong still remained as the King’s Hand, though, Otto Hightower still plotted his return. Quashed when Viserys died, and Rhaenyra swiftly ascended. “I wish to offer you the post as my Hand…” It was what the pair had always dreamed of.

“The Lords will not abide by that-“

“I am Queen, I am the Head of the Seven Kingdoms and they will follow my commands,” she paused at the apprehension written over Elspeth’s face.

The Princess shook her head, “Lord Lyonel has been a faithful Hand to your father- ,”

“How am I supposed to rule if I cannot fully rely on my Hand? In my absence how can I rely on the judgement of men to carry out my word?” The Queen held the Princess’ hands, “You are my closest friend- ever since you arrived in Kings Landing- before I was born. You have never shown deceit nor malice on my part- even my husband doesn’t have my complete favour… you do…”

“If I say yes will it stop your queenly speech?” Rhaenyra gave a nod. “Then yes, I will be your Hand…”

She was a bloody good one at that, Rhaenyra remained in Kings Landing as she always had.

Ric was a promising young heir to Harrenhal- knighted for his fighting in the second war for the Stepstones. He was a good sword, and betrothed to Rhaena Velaryon for his actions. They suited one another- calm and loyal.

Gwen, unruly like her mother, rode horses not dragons; fearing great heights. She found a love match in the Lord of the North, Cregan Stark. He loved her fighting spirit- unlike any Southerner he had met.

Lily rode the biggest dragon in the Known World. Her mother refused a marriage with the Lannisters- who called out for an alliance. Lily found affections with the young Lord Oscar Tully. They had proven to be a youthful yet wise Lord and Lady of Riverrun.

Jaimes found himself separated from his twin, Ronin but Jaime was living his dream under the wing of his uncle Gwayne. Travelling the Seven Kingdoms at the age of six-and-ten, yet to find himself a wife but with his father’s looks and mother’s drive- it’s more so the fact that he isn’t looking.

Ronin had claimed the Bronze Fury at two-and-ten, and has since built a loving bond with Vermithor. He found himself with a crowd of women gawking, his mother’s angelic features and his father’s demeanour. Yet he only had eyes for the brash Alysanne Blackwood, admiring the huntress and sharing liaisons while at Harrenhal. Elspeth warned him to ask for her hand before somebody else demanded it- and he feared no person as much as he feared and loved his mother.

Cullen favoured the pen rather than the sword, becoming a scholar. He toured around the libraries, transcribing every ounce of knowledge he garnered. This took him to the Free Cities- where he encountered a young maiden. Her name was Aliandra, she loved his inquisitive nature and he her fiery attitude. It was only when he ventured to her homeland that he discovered her to be Princess Aliandra Martell, and he was to be her Prince Consort. It aided in relations between the Seventh Kingdom.

Lyonei continued her education in alchemy and prophecy. Still close friends with Princess Helaena, though, at Harrenhal she found the company of Alys Rivers- rumoured to be her aunt- and judiciously followed her expertise. For that time being she had no room for love, neither did her parents force her.

Mia resided at Driftmark, Maesters said she had problems with the heart. But she enjoyed life with her head in books. Rhaenys was more than willing to house the gentle-spoken, petite girl even in her adulthood. She found the sea air aided in her ailments, finding love in a sailor.

Their parents moved to Harrenhal when Ser Lyonel died. Larys lurked in the shadows, not any danger.

The Kingdoms lived in peace. But the pair weren’t alive when the power struggles took place- resulted to ash and bone.

Dying in bed together- both of old bones. Knowing what eternal love felt like, reuniting with Alyrie Florent and those lost along the years.

History would remember the fierceness of Elspeth Hightower- true Targaryen born - married a strong. An issue of seven, rider of Ebrion the Cannibal and the best shot in the Seven Kingdoms.

THE END

___________________________

So this is the last part of the series. I have loved writing this and thank you for the support with it. Thank you to everybody reading ❤️❤️❤️

Series taglist:-

@llynx7 @babyred7 @felicisimor @beebeechaos

#house of the dragon #harwin breakbones #harwin x reader #harwin strong #hotd #house hightower #house strong #house targaryen #ser harwin strong #hotd fanfic #hotd x reader #hotd fic #hotd spoilers

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simpforpeterp · 5 months

Text

lucifer morningstar x oc

ONLY ANGEL

summary: A story in which the King of Hell falls in love with a fallen angel who became the most powerful overlord in Hell, the owner of millions of souls, in less than a year. (She obtained them all on accident) (Yes, she accidentally became the most powerful overlord in Hell)

warnings: no specific warnings other than the fact that it's hazbin so (hopefully?) you know what you're getting yourself into

word count: 2.7k

author's note: this is the first chapter of ten uploaded on ao3 and wattpad so far!!!! if you like this chapter please go read the rest on there or ask and i can upload more chapters on here!! :)

Chapter 1: The Fall

no one warns you before the fall

"So," Lucifer began his voice a low murmur, placing his hand on his forehead. "Do you wanna tell me your deal? I've gone through hell and back, pun intended, to track you down."

"Are you implying I owe you an explanation? Because if that's the case, honesty is key here, right?" She smiles.

"I- maybe? You know what, sure. Let's run with that," He lets out a dry chuckle. "Spill it, sister. How...how did you become a fallen angel?"

"This is stupid."

"It's not stupid, I know that better than anyone." He tries.

"No, no, no, I don't mean it like I'm ashamed to tell you. I mean...how it happened. I'm fully aware of how stupid this is about to sound but everything that's happened to me, how I got here and became one of the most powerful people in hell within months...it was a complete accident. A series of unforeseen accidents." She tells him, leaning back further in her chair.

"Are you bullshitting me?"

"No, okay, listen. I'm not gonna go at this saying I'm completely innocent. Did I sneak into Earth multiple times and do a lot of horrible things like drugs, become the lead singer in one of the biggest bands in existence, and live multiple lifetimes over the decades on Earth? Yes. But that's surprisingly not what got me kicked out. But it did get me 100 hours of heaven's version of court-mandated community service. I had to lead tours of the biggest museum in Heaven. The Museum of Other Religions."

"And here on your left, you'll see a pair of horns from a real-life minotaur. This museum was built centuries ago to show amazing things from our neighbors. With the rule that you have to have at least three people to form a religion, a lot of religions have formed, a lot of them with an afterlife similar to ours. We share these skies with hundreds of others! Even...some bullshit like religions like those who follow the Sonic Bible. Yes, the Hedgehog. And that leads us to...ten golden rings." She sighs, absolutely tired of this work.

"What's that?" A child points to a large Norse weapon.

"That's a spear. It looks like a cane, but it's a spear. This famous weapon actually has a name. Gungir is the famous spear of Odin, the King of Asgardian Gods. Actually-" She starts before a loud noise starts next door. It's only her second month of volunteering, she's never heard anything like that.

"What is that?" A concerned mother asks.

"Ah...I'm not entirely sure. Everyone, please wait here, I'll go check it out." She says, awkwardly scooting away from the tour group until she reaches the door.

The air reverberated with deafening screeches, assaulting her ears as she stumbled upon the source of the commotion. A putrid stench, like sulfur mixed with decay, took over her senses, causing bile to rise in her throat.

The building next door has always had no name and no one was ever allowed in there except for very special people. So, entering the alley between the two buildings probably wasn't a good idea but that's where the noise was coming from.

That's when she sees a big glowing portal. With a perfect view of hell and angels who definitely do not belong there. Angels who were doing something they shouldn't have been. She shuts the door to the alley and stumbles backwards quickly. A conveniently placed rock causes her to fall backwards, still trying to back away as the portal radiates heat.

"Watching these stupid fucks die never gets old!" Adam laughs as he watches other angels do their killing. He steps backwards into the portal, watching proudly. That stupid son of a bitch.

She tries her best to be quiet, not letting him hear even a breath. He sighs and begins to walk into the adjacent building before turning back around and seeing the other angel on the floor, a look of horror on her face.

"Of course, my fucking luck. Listen here, you little bitch. What you saw? Never happened. Got it? 'Kay, thanks! Bye!" He throws a smoke bomb on the floor, filling her lungs and making her cough relentlessly.

It leaves a hollow feeling in her chest as she tries to hit it out of her lungs with her wrist. The portal is gone when the smoke clears up. Well, mostly. The thick black smoke is slowly rising, just barely out of her face.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" The head Seraphim comes out from the museum.

"Oh, f- my group. I'll head back in n-"

"Christy took your group. You're coming with me." Sera says coldly before leading the way to the heavenly court.

They appear there within seconds. The room is almost empty. Just Sera, Emily, and a few others who are usually involved in the proceedings. And it's horrifying. It's a known fact, a joke in Heaven, about how the only other time this room was like this was when Lucifer fell.

"L-look, if this is about Lute, she only hates me because I tried to tell her to stop yelling at the first graders whenever she passes by." The Angel tries to deflect.

"I have heard much about you, Eleanor." Sera begins.

"Really? That's- that's uh- really dedicated," She clears her throat awkwardly. "You can call me Ellie though."

"Eleanor, we have let a lot of things slide with you. You've broken over fifty cardinal rules. We've only punished you for five. We thought your volunteer work would help you but then I find you away from your group, smoking in the alley?"

"Woah, woah, woah, smoking? Me? I haven't smoked since the sixties!" She puts her hands up in defense before mumbling. "Cigarettes, anyway."

The people in the room begin whispering and it's overwhelming.

"Look, please, you've gotta believe me. I know I've messed up in the past but I can explain myself. I was with my group, okay? And then we heard this noise and I decided to go check it out and it was horrible! I saw this big portal and- and- it was to Hell!" She starts frantically explaining before everyone's faces change quickly. "Angels were there, they were killing those poor souls in hell! Adam! You were there, you saw it." She points to the man sitting.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I don't know what you're talking about." He shrugs.

"What? No- but I saw it! I was there, I know it was Hell and I know they were killing sinners. They were wielding angelic weapons and- and-" She tries.

"Enough," Sera holds her hand up and everything falls silent. "The court stands firm in this decision, you were supposed to stay with your tour group, you barely had half your hours done. This was your final warning-"

"But it wasn't my fault! There were these loud screams and explosions and this horrible smell, I wasn't trying to be irresponsible and leave my tour group. I was trying to comfort them and let them know the noise was nothing more than something normal but I couldn't do that because apparently angels can be murderers!" Ellie raises her voice.

"We've never allowed anything of the sort to happen. You must be making this up. But perhaps this is for the best, this was never the place for you. It was only a matter of time before we had to do this." Sera sighs.

"Before I got kicked out? You all think I'm trouble just like everyone else here." She shakes her head, trying to step back but she can't. She's frozen.

"Lute?" Sera calls. "Get her wings and halo, now."

"But the exterminations are real, they do happen. They just- they lied to you and said you were the liar? That's...fucked up." He breathes out.

"I learned that the hard way when I saw the big countdown on that big white tower. But I couldn't just sit around and lick my wounds. So, I got up and held onto the walls to make sure I didn't lose my balance without my wings. I was bleeding down the entire back of my shirt but I didn't want anyone to think I was dead and eat me. I had no idea where I was but then I started meeting all kinds of new people." She shrugs.

"And so you just randomly turned evil and started taking souls?" He asks.

"I'm not evil, dude. I'm an idiot, sure, but I'm not evil." She tries.

"You own millions of souls by yourself. You've been here for a year."

"Okay, this is about to look like a lie because of, again, how stupid this is. But that was also an accident."

"Come on!" He laughs loudly, literally slapping his knee.

"What? It was!" She manages a giggle too, leaning slightly forward.

"I- oh, hold on. I have to call my daughter really quick, I'm not making it to this meeting. Sorry, Darlin'." He winks with a wide grin.

"No, god bless you, baby." She smirks as he stands up, keeping his eyes on her as his smile never drops.

Ellie breezed into the crowded bar, her presence drawing curious gazes from the denizens of Hell. With a nonchalant smile, she approached the overlord seated at the center of the room, his imposing figure exuding an aura of dominance. The demon, adorned in extravagant robes adorned with glistening jewels, regarded her with a mixture of amusement and disdain.

By then, rumors had begun to spread about her rise to power. Her presence immediately commanded attention despite her seemingly unassuming appearance. Her light brown wavy hair cascaded over her shoulders in her white sundress. She looked utterly angelic, standing out like a sore thumb.

"What's your deal, babe? You dealin' in souls looking like that?" The demon chuckles.

"That's usually how it goes. Usually, I say, 'If I win in a game of tic-tac-toe, I get your soul,' and then you say-" Eleanor chirped, her tone playful and carefree.

The overlord's laughter rumbled through the room, a deep and menacing sound that reverberated off the walls.

"You? Win my soul? That's funny, little angel. But very well, indulge me," he chuckled, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

With a snap of his fingers, a makeshift tic-tac-toe grid materialized before them, the lines etched in crimson fire against the darkened backdrop of the bar. Eleanor's grin widened as she accepted the challenge, her fingers tracing the X's and O's with childish delight.

She plays the game and everyone around can smell off of her that she has no idea the power she holds. People don't treat souls like a big deal unless you're dealing with them. How was she supposed to know if she had no friends in hell?

As the game unfolded, Ellie approached it with the same innocence and naivety that had defined her existence thus far. Each move she made was guided by whimsy rather than strategy, her laughter filling the air as she reveled in the simplicity of the game. Her having learned the trick to win almost every time years ago gave her the unearned confidence of a white man.

But to the overlord's growing horror, Eleanor's seemingly random moves began to form a pattern—a pattern that ultimately led to her victory. With a triumphant giggle, she declared her win, completely unaware of the gravity of her actions.

The overlord's expression darkened, his features twisted in rage as he realized the consequences of his defeat. "No...this can't be!" he growled, his voice filled with anger.

But Ellie just shrugged, her carefree demeanor undiminished. As the overlord begrudgingly handed over his soul, the realization dawned on him that Eleanor's ascent to power in Hell was not the result of cunning or calculation, but sheer innocence and luck—a fact that made her all the more dangerous. She has no idea what kind of power she holds.

"No, no way, you're telling me that's how you got all those souls? A children's game? And no one owns your soul? You've won every time?" Lucifer laughs even louder than before.

"I mean, yeah! Maybe I'll show you how sometime." She laughs with him.

"So, were you just doing this to millions of people, thinking it was a fun game for almost a year?"

"Yeah, pretty much. Well, not necessarily to millions. As I played with more people, I would joke that if I won I would get their soul and every other soul they own. That kind of picked up my numbers. Fun fact, I only found out that it indeed was not a joke last week. Only after I became the owner of millions of souls. But it was never in a malicious way. I was just trying to make friends. It always struck me as weird that I would find decent enough people and after we played tic-tac-toe they would be scared or wouldn't want to be around me anymore. It never occurred to me that I was and was not the problem at the same time." She explains.

"So, you're really not evil, huh?" He smiles at her again.

"Unfortunately, I'm not evil. But I've only been here for a year." She gives him a smile that grabs his attention. A cute smile.

"Ellie?" He hums.

"Your Highness." She hums back.

"Please, call me Lucifer. Anything else is too fancy. Unless you want to call me baby again." He leans the slightest bit closer to her with a smile.

"What were you saying, baby?" She says in the same flirtatious way she did before.

"Is your place around here? I don't have anything else to ask you, you don't seem to be as big of a threat as I thought. You are insanely powerful and own the most souls but without the malicious intent, we should be good to go, darlin'." He chuckles.

"My place is an idea, a concept. My place is a thought. I go where I want, basically." She shrugs.

"You don't have a home?" He asks.

"Nah, when I found out this is where I'm gonna be forever, I wanted to explore everything. But now I think I've explored everything so I should probably get on that. You know, find a place fit for an overlord. If I was scary enough to strike your fancy, I should have somewhere to fit that, right?" She shrugs.

"Come home with me." He sits up straighter.

His voice carries a hint of vulnerability, his gaze showing a flicker of loneliness. He extended the invitation to Ellie not just out of duty as the King of Hell, but because he could see right through her. She brushes everything about it heaven off. The way she fell, the way she had to find her way in this awful place, she made it seem like no big deal. But he knows it's not. This place is scary, especially to outsiders.

And maybe he does have slightly ulterior motives. Everything about her is so familiar. The way she held herself, her feet quickly tapping on the floor, the way everything went down. He's been so in need of companionship and he can't help but want to know her better.

"You know...I would, but I um, have something to do later, not that it's more important than you, the king of hell, but I-" She starts to nervously make an excuse.

"No, sorry! I meant, come stay with me. For now. You're an angel, a fallen angel, just like me. I- I know what it's like to be just...cast out like nothing. I can't just throw you back into hell like I never met you. I want you to come stay with me," He throws in a small smile at the end. "I mean, if you don't want to, that's fine. I can't force you. But I think I'm a pretty good roommate."

"Did I also accidentally find the King of Hell's soft spot?" She giggles and gets one out of him too.

"I guess you did, Ellie. So...what do you say?" He asks, slightly nervous and not sure why.

"You know what...sure. Why not?"

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar x oc #hazbin lucifer #fallen angel #hellaverse

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dangermousie · 5 months

Text

The way they fight is AMAZING!

I take back my recent comments that choking is having a moment in cdramas nowadays. This is from years ago and here is choking in glorious technicolor.

It's interesting that he's letting her keep the kid, which is not even a question for a modern person but for someone in his position and his personality just speaks about how obsessed he is. (Interesting question - would they had a greater chance for happiness if she gave birth to a daughter? I don't think so tbh. Ultimately, the deal breaker was he was always a monster intent on ruling in blood and she could not live complicit. But maybe it would have taken longer to reach the breaking point.)

Crazy alert!

One of the most jaw dropping things in this entire jaw dropping sequence is how his choking transforms into his trying to caress her. Good Lord.

Dude, dude, DUDEEEE

And then he shoves her on the bed and climbs on top. Young man, even if she fancied you, this is not the style of foreplay appealing to majority of women. Not that he had to care, as king. But like - show some finesse.

I started laughing. Dude, you blackmailed her with the life of her boyfriend and have been threatening and manhandling her ever since she got here. LIKE!!! The stunning lack of self-awareness.

The way she never has any give!

Honestly, she has SUCH balls but also this is so a ship dynamic I go wild for in fiction (in rl, pls pls call the cops and run.)

Bwahahahaha. Tbh, I wasn't sure even that would kill his desire for...ahem...conquest.

When you have to say "at least he's not a rapist of the woman he loves," you know you've not only hit rock bottom in terms of decency and sanity of your ML, but you are tunneling through to magma.

And then he leaves her, only to go to some other random concubine's room and shove her on the bed with no preliminaries, to work off the lust he's worked up but left unsatisfied with our FL:

Even if this wasn't Qin Shi Huang but some fictional monarch, censors would never let this drama air now, and if they kept him being QSH, I think they'd rather literally die than release it. Yet this was aired no problem in 2017, on TV no less. What a difference (and not a good one), less than a decade makes.

#cdrama #dilraba dilmurat #zhang bin bin #the king's woman

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nicoline1998enilocin · 1 year

Text

Saving my Angel

PAIRING | Chris Evans x Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 6.2K

SUMMARY | You are in a toxic relationship with your boyfriend, and even though he's always there for you, Chris can't take it much longer to see you like this. When your boyfriend makes you cut all ties to him, Chris will do everything in his power to make sure you'll get safely to the other side.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Major angst, toxic (ex)boyfriend, abusive (ex)boyfriend against Reader, extreme physical violence used against Reader & Chris, swearing, very degrading talk against Reader, multiple badly broken bones.

A/N | This was a very difficult one to write, but I want everyone who is currently going through it to know, that there is help if you need it. You are stronger than you know, and you will get through this! To everyone who has gone through it, I am so sorry that you had to, but I am so proud of you for making it to the other side 🖤

Likes and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💜

Main Masterlist | Chris Evans Masterlist

''I'm sorry Chris, but I can't do this any longer. I think it's for the best if we don't see each other. If we don't have any contact at all actually,'' you say, tears welling up in your eyes, threatening to spill onto your cheekbones and into your neck. All Chris could do was look at you with a pained look, he was well aware it wasn't your choice to do this, your boyfriend set you up to do this. ''It was an honor to be your friend,'' you say before turning around and walking back to your boyfriend, who was waiting in the car for you to get back. He couldn't believe it, you didn't deserve to be treated like this, nobody did. But especially you, his best friend. The woman he loved more than anyone in this world, you didn't deserve to be treated like trash, because you were the most perfect human being in his eyes. His angel didn't deserve to be treated like that, by someone worth less than nothing.

''I told him, are you happy now?'' you say to Luke, your boyfriend, with a snarky tone. This immediately earned you a slap across your face, making you gasp in both pain and fear. ''Why the fuck do you think you can talk to me like that? You should be thanking me for making you do this, he was trying to take you away from me. And what do I get as a thank you?'' he spat the words out and landed another slap on your face, making the tears that threatened to spill earlier now stream down your face. You didn't want to do this, but he forced you to. He threatened your parents if you didn't do what he said, so you went along with his wishes and told Chris you didn't want to see him anymore. You just ruined a nearly 30-year relationship in a matter of minutes, and that hurt more than anything Luke could ever do to you.

Chris was looking at what happened and saw you getting slapped by the asshole you call your boyfriend. Every bone in his body was aching to do something, but he knew that if he did, he would only make it worse, and he didn't want that to happen to you. He flinched the second time he hit you, and quickly turned around, so he could let his tears flow without anyone seeing. ''I'm so sorry, Angel...'' he whispers to nothing, his tears now falling down his cheeks. ''I'm sorry I couldn't do more to protect you...'' and he sat down on his couch, grabbing his phone, without unlocking it. On his lock screen was a photo of the two of you at the premiere of Captain America: The First Avenger. The two of you looked so incredibly happy in that moment, and he thinks back to all the fond memories you have, like the moments you came to visit him on set whenever you had the chance. All of his costars took an immediate liking to you, just like he had almost 3 decades ago. All of that was gone within a matter of minutes.

Luke quickly pulled the car away from the curb, but that didn't stop you from seeing Chris' face before he left, you saw the hurt in his eyes and knew he witnessed all of it. Your cheek was throbbing and burning from the pain, when you were home you would just get some ice to get the swelling down. ''I can't believe you're such an ungrateful bitch, I just did you a fucking favor!'' he yelled at you, and you looked out your window, not wanting to face him now. You were well aware this couldn't go on any longer this way, but you were also too afraid to do something about it, so you stayed with him to keep him happy. Just like the last 4 years, you stayed with him to make sure he wouldn't hurt you, but it would only get worse and worse.

The relationship started perfectly fine, nothing overly crazy or anything like that. The two of you met at your old job and were working together frequently. During this time, you two grew fond of each other and started a relationship. It seemed like a perfect relationship on the outside, but what no one knew is that after about 6 months, everything completely turned around. He started getting mad faster, swearing more and calling you ungrateful. About 6 more months after that he started to get physically abusive, grabbing your bicep and squeezing if you didn't do what he wanted, hitting you in your face, ribs, on your legs, everywhere he could reach, and eventually that led to getting slapped in the face too. When all that still wasn't enough for him, he made you stop seeing your family and friends, and as a last effort today, he made you stop seeing Chris, the person you leaned on most when it got too much.

Now, you have absolutely nothing left. Nowhere to go, no one to talk to. Luke took everything away from you, and somehow it would never be enough for him. A few tears escape your eyes, and you pray that he won't notice, it would usually end badly for you when he saw you cry after what he did to you. God, you needed Chris now, but that wouldn't be an option anymore. He would be someone in your past now, a chapter you would always look back on with fond memories. But no new ones would be formed, not with him. From now on, he was out of your life, because of your boyfriend's jealousy. Nothing ever happened between you and Chris, but that didn't sink in with him, he was positive you were cheating on him with Chris. But you would never do that to anyone, not even after everything he had done to you.

~ The night Chris came to your rescue ~

''I can't fucking believe you, Y/N, why would you do this to me?!'' Luke yelled at you, for the umpteenth time, yet you didn't know what you did wrong. ''Why the fuck would you go to his house, when I told you you weren't allowed to go there?'' he spat the words in your face, ending it with a hard slap across the face, to emphasize his point. ''I-, I don't know,'' is all you could manage to say before he pulled you up from the couch and squeezed your arm until you could feel the bones in your underarm snap, making you scream out in agony. ''That is what you deserve for being such a whore, you're nothing more than a cheap fucking whore,'' he said with a chuckle and a grin on his face. He was enjoying this way too much. He pushed you away and you fell to the floor, trying to scramble away but there wasn't much space for you to go.

''Where does my fucking whore think she's going? You have nowhere to go, do you? Such a lonely little bitch you are. Good, because you are right where you need to be,'' he said with a layer of disgust laced throughout his words. He wanted you all for himself, do whatever he wanted to you whenever he wanted. When you said no, he had reached his breaking point, and so did most of your bones. He kicked you multiple times in the ribs, and the scream you let out wasn't even human anymore, the sound of more bones cracking ringing through your head. ''I- I'm sorry...'' you said sobbing, feeling pain everywhere at once, barely able to breathe. He wasn't done with you yet and put his foot with a heavy boot on it on your leg, making sure you couldn't walk away from him. When the bone snapped, you screamed another animalistic groan, right before the door was barged in by the police.

Luke tried to run away, but he didn't stand a single chance of going away. When he got dragged away he managed to get in more kick towards you, landing on your jaw, breaking it too. By now, the pain was so overwhelming you were unconscious, but there was a medical team helping you on a gurney, before taking you to the hospital. The police found your wallet and your ID, making sure they knew who they were bringing into the hospital. The ride there wasn't pretty, you lost a lot of blood, and all of the breaks were very nasty. At the hospital, you were immediately rushed into emergency surgery, so they could get you fixed up as much as would be possible at that point, but they already knew you were going to need multiple surgeries. One of the nurses called your emergency contact, and that person was at the hospital in less than 20 minutes. Chris would always show up when you needed him most.

''My name is Chris Evans, I'm here for Y/N Y/L/N, I got called because I'm her emergency contact,'' he tells the man behind the front desk, and he looks up some information. ''She's in surgery right now, but you can wait in the waiting room. As soon as we have more information, a doctor will come and find you,'' he said, pointing him towards the waiting area of the emergency room. The first surgery took about 6 hours and didn't exactly go according to plan, you coded a few times and lost a lot of blood, but for now, you were stable and alive. That's all Chris could care about right now, he wanted his Angel to be alive. When the doctor told him what had happened, and how you were doing, he couldn't help but start crying. By the time you were back in your room and settled for a little bit, he was allowed in and he started sobbing next to you. ''Oh my fucking god, Angel, what did he do to you?!'' he said between sobs, taking your hand softly into his, giving it a soft kiss to show him you were safe now, he was with you.

When you were finally coming back to consciousness, Chris was sleeping by your side, so you squeezed his hand a little to show him you were awake. He didn't sleep all that deep, so he woke up almost instantly. ''Angel, you're alive...'' is all he could get out before tears were streaming down his face out of pure relief. He was extremely grateful his Angel was still alive, his best friend made it to the other side. ''I came as soon as they called me, Luke is currently locked up. Your neighbors called the cops and I'm glad they did, otherwise, I might not have you here right now,'' he explained. You felt tears welling up in your eyes, you were eternally grateful for your neighbors, that they dared to call even though they were well aware of what Luke was capable of. You tried to talk but you had your mouth wired shut, to help your broken jaw.

''Don't talk Angel, they had to wire your jaw shut, he broke your bottom jaw, so for it to heal properly they had to do that. You also have both the bones in your right lower arm broken, as well as 5 ribs, and your tibia is broken too. He did a number on you this time, and I wish I was there to stop him this time...'' he said, but all you could do is put your hand on his and look at him. You wanted to tell him you would be okay, you wanted to tell him how much you love him, but he knew. Chris knew damn well how you felt about him. ''I love you, Angel, I always have and always will,'' he said before getting up and placing a small kiss on your forehead, signifying to you that it will be okay now that he's here with you. ''When you're allowed to go home, I will take you to my house, so you can recover with both me and Dodger. You don't ever have to go back to your apartment, I promise,'' he said. But he knew it was one he wouldn't be able to keep, not as long as Luke would be free once more.

After a week in the hospital, you were finally allowed to go home, after being carefully instructed how to take care of yourself, but it would be Chris who would be doing most of the caring for you. ''Ready to go home, Angel?'' he asks and gives you a look full of adoration, proud of how well you're doing in your recovery so far. You nod slowly and Chris pushes your wheelchair out of the room and thanks all the nurses for the good care they gave you. When he wheeled you out of the hospital, you got tears in your eyes, the realization of what happened finally dawning on you a little bit. Chris notices you tensing up a little, and puts his hand on your shoulder, showing you he's still there. This simple gesture makes you lose the battle against your tears as they slowly slide down your face and onto your neck. He keeps walking you to his car, when you're there he places the wheelchair in such a way that he can help you get in.

When the wheelchair is on its brakes, Chris opened the car door and went to your side, going to pick you up. ''I'm so sorry Angel, but I'm going to have to pick you up and it's probably going to hurt. Try and hook your arm around my neck and I'll try to be as careful as possible,'' and he wasn't lying. It did hurt, making you whine out pretty loud at the pain, and your face scrunches at the feeling of his arms on your body. ''I'm so so sorry, I am...'' he said when he put you down. When you were buckled in he started folding the wheelchair and put it in the trunk of his car, so you could use it again at home whenever you needed it. When he sat down at the driver's side of the car, he looked at you and you were just looking out your window, not wanting to be reminded what happened, but you wouldn't be able to escape it. You would never be able to escape what Luke did to you. Chris drove the both of you to his house and helped you out of his car and into your wheelchair. At this moment you were extremely grateful his house didn't have steps in front of his door, unlike yours. He could just wheel you into the house.

''Hey Dodger, we have to be very careful with Y/N for a while, buddy!'' he said as the dog came running up to them, shortly followed by Scott, who has been taking care of him for the last week when Chris was with you in the hospital. ''Oh fuck, it's even worse than I thought...'' Scott whispered when he saw you, and you saw the pained look on his face. All you did was nod a little, you couldn't do much else. Dodger walked slowly up to you and wanted to get some love, so you extended the hand that you could still use, softly petting him on his head. You were grateful for all three of the boys currently standing around you, wanting to help you wherever they could. ''I got it from here, Scott,'' Chris said and he said goodbye to his brother, thanking him again for looking after Dodger. He wished you a good recovery before walking out the door. ''I had Scott set up a bed in the living room, so you don't have to go up and down the stairs to sleep,'' he said, wheeling you to it. You signaled you wanted to lay down for a while, and he softly helped you into the bed, pulling on his sleeve notifying you wanted Chris to lay with you for a while and soon Dodger joined as well. You hadn't slept so well in years as you did now.

~ The night something shifted within you ~

''Luke?'' you started, asking for your boyfriend's attention. He hummed notifying me he was listening. ''Ava just asked if I wanted to go to the club with her and Isabelle,'' you say, showing him the message she just send you. ''Can I go?'' you ask, feeling stupid about the fact that you asked him permission to do something, but you didn't want to not do it, the consequences would be worse than the last time you ended up in the hospital. ''Where are you going? And who else is coming?'' he asked, always wanting to know where you were and with who. Sometimes he'd even show up unannounced to make sure you weren't lying to him. You never were, but it still made you feel very worthless some nights. As if you couldn't take care of yourself, but he always argued he did it for your safety, ''I'm just looking out for you sweetheart, it's for your own good,'' he would say. And at some point, you almost started to believe him. Almost. ''We're going to Joe's Pub, and I'll just be going with Ava and Isabelle. We're going for a few drinks, nothing more. I'll be home before midnight,'' you say to him. ''Okay, you can go, but you better not be meeting someone else while you're out there!'' he said with some anger laced in his voice.

You texted them you were in, and changed into a dress you knew Luke would approve of, he bought it for you after all. You picked out your floral, short sleeve dress and paired it with a pair of black Converse, simple jewelry, and minimal make-up. You looked perfectly fine for a few drinks with friends, and you showed your outfit to Luke, who approved. ''Looking beautiful, sweetheart,'' he said as he gave you a soft kiss on the lips. You didn't kiss him back, but he didn't seem to notice. Ever since he picked you up from Chris' house a year ago, it hadn't been the same between the two of you. Both Chris and Luke got into a huge argument, and it turned physical when Luke swung his fist toward Chris. Luckily you were able to pull the pair apart, but not without getting a few more punches yourself in the process. After this, you went with Luke, since you didn't have a choice. You didn't want him to hurt you, but even more, you didn't want Chris to get hurt. You had convinced yourself you deserved everything he did to you, but not Chris. He didn't need to be dragged into this.

When it was time to go out the door and towards Joe's Pub, you called an Uber and Luke walked to the car with you, making sure the Uber Driver is taking you where you said you were going. But he already knew you were going to check up on you later, he didn't trust you not to go meet with another guy when you're there. ''Have fun sweetheart, and don't drink too much!'' he said in a mocking tone before the Uber drove off. It was a short ride to the pub, and once you arrived you found both Ava and Isabelle already there. You hugged them, happy to see both of them again after not being outside the house alone for a few months. Usually, Luke came everywhere with you, never letting you go nowadays, so you were glad he did let you go alone, although you had the suspicion he would turn up later tonight like he used to do. You got drinks for all three of you and when you were waiting at the bar, you heard a familiar voice behind you.

''Looking gorgeous tonight, Angel!'' Chris said with a deep voice and you quickly turned around to face him. You extended your arms to hug him, and he happily hugged you back, you haven't seen him in a while since he was away to film another movie for a couple of months. ''Oh my god, you're back!'' you say excitedly and can't believe he's here, right now with you. ''How was filming?'' you ask and he tells you it went well, but it wasn't the same without you there on set. ''Everyone on set missed you, you know. They asked if you would be coming to visit, but I told them you were busy with work...'' he said, and you heard the sadness in his voice. Usually, you loved to come to visit him and his friends on set, especially when he was filming Marvel movies. ''I'm sorry, I couldn't-'' is all you said, but he knew what you were going to say. Luke wouldn't have allowed you to see him on set. Chris was well aware of the way he thought about him, especially since the night the two of them had the fight when he came to get you from his house. ''It's okay, angel. It isn't your fault,'' he said.

''Put her drinks on my tab, please,'' he told the bartender when you were going to pay for them. ''Chris, you don't have to do that!'' you said, but he didn't want to hear it. ''It's my treat, to celebrate your night out without him for once,'' he said with a wink. You thank him and walked back to your friends, who were looking with slack jaws at the fact that you just hugged Chris fucking Evans. ''DID YOU JUST-'' ''YOU KNOW CHRIS EVANS?!'' they both said at the same time. You have told them about your friend named Chris, just never that it was him. You were used to the fact that he was famous, but you knew him since you were kids, so it wasn't weird for you. ''Oh yeah. I'm used to it, I've known him since we were kids,'' you said and shrugged it off. The girls, however, would not let it go. ''Could you maybe introduce us to him? Can we ask him for an autograph or a selfie?'' They asked both very excited. This is something you would never get used to however, this is exactly why you didn't tell them you were friends with him. With a sigh, you told them you would see what you could do, and you looked around the pub trying to find him.

Eventually, you found him in the back of the pub at a table with Scott, Carly, and Shanna, which you all haven't seen in forever. When Chris saw you he immediately waved you over to the table. ''Oh my god you guys, I missed you all so much!'' you exclaimed when you saw his siblings and there were a lot of hugs exchanged. Scott hugged you just a little tighter and longer, especially after seeing what Luke had done after you came back from the hospital. ''It's good to see you again, Squeak,'' and you heard the worry throughout his voice. ''Scott, I'm okay, I promise,'' you said before letting go. ''Did you want to join us? You're more than welcome to, you know,'' Chris offered, but you said you were here with your friends. ''Speaking of them, they wanted to know if I could ask you for a favor, but it's okay if you say no. They want to know if they could maybe get a selfie with you or an autograph since they found out I'm friends with you,'' you said, a little bit of outrage through your tone. You hated asking this of him, but you also probably knew he would say yes. ''Of course Angel, anything for you,'' he said and he got up. ''I promise I'll bring him back to you soon. It was nice seeing you all again,'' you said before walking after Chris.

He found your friends and you practically saw them melt right then and there when he talked to them. He took a selfie with both of them and he signed both their phone cases, after getting a sharpie from the bartender. ''Thank you so much, you're amazing!'' they said at the same time, and you couldn't help but laugh at it. ''I'll see you later, Angel,'' Chris said and kissed you on the cheek, but he would regret that immediately. ''WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING WITH MY GIRL? Didn't I tell you to stay the fuck away from her, you asshole?!'' Luke said before shoving Chris away from you. ''Luke, don't-'' is all you said before he slapped you square across the face, and this made Chris see white, instantly swinging himself towards Luke, and punching him wherever he could reach. The fight really got out of hand and Scott finally managed to pull Chris off of Luke with 2 bartenders, and Luke was pulled away by 3 other customers. The last bartender called 911, saying they needed police and an ambulance over at the bar. When they arrived both Luke and Chris were taken into police custody, but released soon after.

Tonight's events shifted something inside you, you had the realization this couldn't go on like this any longer. ''What the fuck were you thinking?!'' you yelled at Luke and started crying, you couldn't believe he is such a horrible person. You found a glass vase and threw it at his head, you were so angry you didn't care anymore. This was a huge mistake, since Luke grabbed your arm and broke the bones again, just like the last time, but he didn't let you go to the hospital. He made you swear right then and there that you would break every form of contact with Chris. ''I can't fucking believe you would cheat on me with that asshole,'' he said, but you didn't have it in you to argue anymore. ''I'm sorry,'' is all you could get out, sounding broken. You didn't have it in you to fight, so you decided to do whatever he wanted, so you wouldn't get hurt again. When he took you to Chris' house a few days later, you walked to his door with lead in your shoes. You knew you were going to throw away a 30-year friendship over a toxic relationship. And even though you knew how wrong it was, you couldn't stop yourself, he would kill you if you did.

~ The night you won the battle ~

Not being able to talk to Chris was killing you inside. Luke made you block his phone number, and his e-mail account, and you had to block him on every single social media account you had. Everywhere you went, Luke went with you. You had to start working from home because you couldn't hide your bruises, your wounds, and your broken bones from your colleagues. This meant you were completely cooped up in your apartment every second and every minute of every day. Even though you did exactly what Luke wanted you to, it still wasn't enough, and you just couldn't give anymore. Your breaking point was officially reached after 5 years of this abuse. After not speaking to or seeing Chris for over a year. You knew he wouldn't forget about you, just like you never forgot him, but it still hurts that you dragged him into your mess. And you were both paying for it. Because Chris never stopped looking out for you, even though he didn't get to see you anymore. He knew you went to your mailbox every single afternoon at the same time now, and he slipped a letter in there one day. Don't let him find this is all it said on the front in Chris' handwriting, and you hid the letter when you walked back up to the apartment. You handed him all the letters, so he could see who you received letters from and about what.

That night, when you went to the bathroom when Luke was watching tv, you found the letter that you hid on your bedside table, where he wouldn't find it. You softly opened it, and when you saw the words on the page, you couldn't stop the tears from falling.

My Angel,

I want to let you know that I miss you deeply, not being able to talk to you hurts me so much. I miss your smile, your laugh, and the way the lines around your eyes crinkle every time you laugh at one of my stupid jokes. I miss your hugs, I miss your voice, and I miss the way you can make me laugh without even trying. But most of all, I miss your love. I miss you, Angel. I want you to know that I am doing in my power to get you out of the situation you're in because this isn't healthy for you. You never deserved to be treated like this.

On the bottom of this letter is a phone number I want you to rip off and remember. If you ever get the chance to call it, I will be there to answer it, no matter what. It is specially reserved for you, so I will be there whenever you need me. I will come and save you, no matter where I am or what time it is. I love you, and I will always be there for you.

For now, I need you to hold on just a little longer. I miss you, and I will see you soon again, my Angel.

Love,

Your Bubba.

Knowing that Chris would still want to help you no matter what gave you the strength to stand up to Luke once and for all. You ripped the letter up in small pieces and flushed it down the toilet so Luke would never find it, and you walked into the living room, ready to confront him. ''This needs to stop,'' you say and gesture between you and him. ''What the fuck are you talking about?'' he sneered at you. ''The way you treat me, Luke. This is stopping now because I'm not a fucking toy you can play with when it suits you, and throw me away when you're done with me,'' and it felt so good to finally tell him how you feel. All of these years you pushed it away, but Chris' letter made you snap out of it. You were stupid for going along with it all this time. All the pain, all the broken bones, all the violence, and the isolation. That was the worst of it all. ''You fucking hurt me every chance you got, and it has to stop!'' you yell at him and tears start to flow. ''I never deserved to be treated like this, hell, you never even deserved ME,'' you spat out as you started throwing stuff at his head. All your anger coming out all at once.

When you heard sirens coming closer, you knew your neighbors called the cops again, and you were thankful, because you don't know how much longer you could do this. But something inside you had shifted a long time ago, and it would finally be over. You would be free, and the thought of that is what kept you going. The thought of seeing Chris again is what kept you going all this time. ''You're such a stupid bitch, you know that?'' Luke said laughing and he launched himself towards you, but he didn't get far before the police kicked down the door and got a hold of him. When they got him you sank to your knees, sobbing uncontrollably at the fact that it is finally over. This chapter in your life is finally done. You were officially free, and you couldn't believe it. It was still so unreal, but you couldn't stop sobbing right now. When a female police officer sat down next to you, you leaned into her and she softly held you in her arms, letting you get out every single emotion you need to. ''C-Can I b-borrow your p-phone? I- I need to call s-someone,'' you stutter out and she agreed.

Quickly you punched in the number Chris gave you, and within 3 rings he picked up. ''Angel, are you okay?'' Chris said worried. ''It's over, Bubba, he's gone,'' is all you said before you burst out in uncontrollable sobs again. Chris was currently away to film another movie in LA, but that didn't matter. You needed him most, so he took the first flight out to Boston, to you. When the police officers left, your neighbors - Max and Stella - took you in, and took care of you after everything. They called the cops, and have always been there for you. ''We're so sorry all of this happened, Y/N. You never deserved any of it,'' Max said, while Stella was soothing you. For the past few days, you never stopped crying, even though the police updated you and said Luke would be going to prison for good. You were incredibly relieved, but the one thing that was still missing was your best friend. He was all you needed right now. Not even 24 hours later, he stood in front of your door, knocking on it.

''Angel, are you in there? Are you safe?'' he kept banging on the door, and Stella went to him. ''I assume you're here for Y/N?'' she asked. ''Do you know where she is?'' he asked, tears welling up in his eyes. ''She's safe, and she is with us. We live next door, we were the ones to call the cops a few nights ago and she has been staying with us ever since,'' she explained, and Chris let out a huge sigh of relief. ''Can I see her...?'' he asked, and she led him to their apartment. ''Y/N? There is someone here to see you,'' is all she said, and Chris stepped out from behind her. ''Bubba? You came...?'' you said, tears still flowing down your cheeks at a steady pace. ''You called, so, of course, I'm here. I'm here to save my Angel as I promised,'' and you quickly ran to him and into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably into his chest. ''I- I-'' is what you could say, but Chris knew exactly what you were going to say. ''You don't need to apologize, Angel, you're safe with me now. It's not your fault, I promise,'' he said and the two of you stood there for a good while, but neither Max nor Stella minded. They saw how much you needed him, and they let the two of you be.

''Did you want to stay here, or do you want to stay at my place?'' Chris asked you. ''As much as I love it here, I think I'm gonna stay with you for a while,'' you said with a little smile, you already felt like enough of a bother towards Max and Stella the last few days. ''I can not thank both of you enough for taking me in and taking care of me. I am deeply grateful for both of you and even though I probably won't see you guys again, I want you to know that it meant the world to have you two as my neighbors,'' you said and gave each one of them a big hug as a thank you. ''We understand, Y/N, we're just glad you finally got out of that place,'' Max said, and after saying your last goodbyes, you went back to your apartment to get most of your clothing and other important stuff, before leaving for good. Everything else is stuff you didn't want or need, and someone else could take care of it, you never wanted to set foot in that place again.

When you were back at Chris' house, you found that Scott, Carly, Shanna, and Lisa were all there, welcoming you back after everything that happened. After more than 30 years, you were part of their family now. ''I love all of you guys so much,'' you said as you grabbed every single one of them for a big hug, not letting go for several minutes with each of them. They all stayed over for dinner and everyone watched a movie afterwards. You cuddled up to Chris, and none of them mentioned it. The two of you were always close, but they were also well aware you just needed to be with him right now. ''Thank you again for saving me, Chris,'' you whispered, and Chris got a small smile on his lips. ''Anything for you, my Angel,''. You fell asleep during the movie and Chris didn't move you, not even when everyone went home. The two of you stayed right there on that couch until the morning, when Dodger jumped onto the couch and into your lap, waking you up. ''Hi Dodge, I missed you too,'' you said and Chris was very happy right now. His best friend was back, and he would never let anything happen to you ever again.

#chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans #chris evans fluff #chris evans imagine #chris evans x y/n #chris evans angst

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karamazovposting · 1 month

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I've briefly talked about it before (it's somewhere in my bipolar Ivan Karamazov agenda tag) but I genuinely love how Ivan's situation is treated through the story and I really relate to it because it's so realistic and well done.

I mean, Ivan himself openly and casually admits that yeah I might kill myself in less than ten years but it's not a big deal or anything mid conversation with his brother who he hasn't seen in almost a decade like it's a completely normal thing to say and think about (because to him it is) and the narrator is like oh Ivan sees dead people sometimes but it's alright and everyone else is just cool with it.

Yes, Ivan is struggling with his mental health, but it's not treated as an epic descent into madness for the drama or for shock value or a Jekyll and Hyde or extreme situation out of ignorance or, worse, mockery. He's just a mentally ill young man being treated like a person who needs help (I wish the people around me had been as concerned and caring as Alyosha and Katya were, to be honest) and even if it's a story written and set in the 19th century, no one's ever disrespectful towards him: no demeaning language (for the time period), no mockery, everyone takes him seriously and it's even highlighted that he's still capable of rationality (his defining character trait; he has not lost himself!); even after the whole trial fiasco, no one's angry at him, they just acknowledge that he's unwell. There is something particularly delicate about how his character is handled, a particular kind of sensitivity and softness paired with a lack of exaggeration and spectacularization that really positively surprised me when I first read the book because I wasn't expecting Ivan's condition to be an accurate portrayal of what I have been through and live with every day.

Even when Ivan is distressed by it, the story never gets too dramatic with that and it never drags it on for too long and that's what I love about his talk with the devil and the trial: it's all very neutral in the most respectful way possible given the context. I don't really know how to explain this, but (at this point everyone and their mother knows) I have bipolar disorder and that's exactly what living with it (or any mental health condition I guess) is like: it's casual, it's normal, it's not a big deal; that's just your life and you gotta live it. There is a lot of nuance that I didn't think I would find so accurately portrayed in a novel from almost two-hundred years ago.

Ivan is more or less neutral towards and comfortable in his own chaos because what else can he do, really?

#I've been casually hallucinating for a couple weeks and told my psychiatrist that it's really not a big deal lmao #which is what prompted this post a few days ago #I should have written it the same day I started having this conversation with myself in my head but shit's happened these past days #and I forgot to write my thoughts down lmao #I hope I remembered everything I wanted to say #and I hope this makes sense #my head is all fuzzy lately it's like it's filled with tv static #the brothers karamazov #ivan karamazov #thoughts #mine

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workersolidarity · 1 year

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Three, four years ago I could have told you, and did tell people, that inflation would start steadily going up, and I said even then that it would likely be stubborn, meaning it wasn't going to be an easy fix.

I knew this back then because it was obvious, even years ago, that the BRICS countries, along with many African and South Asian countries and elsewhere were looking for ways to get around using the US Dollar for trade.

They were making moves to expand trade relations outside US dollar transactions and were for many years planning and building the infrastructure for a future Multipolar world.

And that process began rapidly picking up pace three or four years ago.

I began to say then, what I'm still saying now, as that process goes on and trade outside the US Dollar system grows exponentially year-on-year, that's going to begin to have an effect on inflation.

Why? Well, Imperialism really. Because the US for decades has depended on the steady demand for US Dollars to hold down inflation, allowing the US to use debt spending to finance wars, military bases and imperialistic ventures like Syria.

Remember, it was the US in its massively dominant position after WWII that built the Bretton Woods System that made the US Dollar the world reserve currency pegged to gold, and it was the US that unilaterally abandoned Bretton Woods 1 and took the dollar off Gold, allowing for the US to finance wars through debt spending, and created the Petro-Dollar with Saudi Arabia in the 1970's.

This debt spending is essentially the surplus value from the Global South and other poorer countries that must buy US Dollars to fund infrastructure projects, energy consumption, food and medicine imports, etc since it's the world reserve currency and if you wish to use the US Financial System at all, such as the World Bank, or SWIFT messaging system, well you have to use US Dollars.

Basically, it's the sucking of the wealth out of poorer countries to finance their own economic oppression.

But as these countries catch on and with new rising global powers like Russia, China and Iran building the infrastructure for an alternative system, the US Dollar is being abandoned faster than ever.

In 2000, more than 70% of Foreign Exchange Reserves were held in US Dollars. By 2020, that figure had dropped considerably to 59%. And the rate at which it's dropping is only increasing.

Knowing this, I said back in 2019 and 2020 that inflation was likely to become a problem. And if it did become a problem, then we knew exactly what the Fed would do as a result: dramatically increase benchmark Interest rates.

This didn't take any particularly specialized or secretive sources to figure out. It's been obvious for years to anyone seriously interested in economics and geopolitics.

And what happens when interest rates go up? The value of the bonds bought under lower interest rates suddenly go way down, while debts become more expensive. It's like gravity in economics.

So with all that being said, why then did all these banks (Signature Bank, First Republic Bank, and Silicon Valley Bank) continue buying troubled assets and Treasury bonds if they're so smart and educated and knew all this?

I mean, these guys are supposed to be the best of the best corporate bankers, right? On the cutting edge of investment banking, right? That's what everyone said even just months before Silicon Valley Bank failed. (CNBC host and moron of the year Jim Cramer literally praised Silicon Valley Bank less than a month before its failure)

So one of two things must be true here and neither one is good for YOU the average worker.

Either these bankers are idiots; complete morons who have little to no understanding of basic economics, geopolitics, and monetary policy, something that should be of concern to all of us.

I mean, I'm just a dude working for a small retailer in New Orleans and even I knew this inflation and higher interest rates were coming.

So why exactly are these people paid such exorbitant salaries? If I can understand the basics of their job better than they can, why am I a retailer, and he, a millionaire banker???

So that's one possibility, one I'm virtually certain is actually true, that our ruling Elite isn't particularly smart or well educated in reality, anymore than ordinary people I meet everyday, and any one of us could easily do their jobs just as well or better than they do given the opportunities afforded to them.

But even if in this case, that's not what happened. That these weren't idiots. Well then the alternative is something that should also be deeply disturbing to you: that these bankers knew they would be facing this situation, that they were well aware of the coming inflationary pressures and equally aware what the Feds response would be, interest rate hikes.

And instead of using the last couple of years to shed possibly dangerous assets and shore up the money the banks kept on hand, they continued to do what was personally making them so much profit, at the expense of tax payers, because they were absolutely certain that the government these bankers spend so much money on campaigns for, would swoop in regardless of the recklessness of their behavior, and bail them out no matter what.

These are not the signs of a healthy political, economic or banking system.

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monpalace · 1 year

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ships .. (ocarina of time/majora's mask) link/reader, (linked universe) time/reader.

content .. it's only natural you search for your nephew after he enters the lost woods on a dare. you can't have a problem with the hand dealt to you when the beast who gives you shelter is so kind.

warnings .. no beta, we die like the promise i made to finish this before the summer after my junior year ended (i started this in april, it's august). i didn't know where i was going with this after a certain point and i think that's obvious. reader uses she/her pronouns. large, legal age gap (reader is in her 30's - 40's, time is a few hundred years old). less of a fic and more snippets, but it's almost 7.5k+ words. i don't think i explicitly say which link it is, so i guess it's ambiguous? nephew is named because this would be a pain to write otherwise.

notes .. prompted (not inspired!!) by beauty and the beast, but also the batb fanfic i found after my friend showed my an nsfw ao3 tag account on twitter. beelzebub / lord of the flies from fear and hunger was a huge inspo for link / time's physical description but there is leeway for how he can be envisioned. he's still large as shit though lmao. the layout of the manor was this, only because i wouldn't be able to write this without knowing.

supposedly there's gonna be a second part. supposedly.

idk. i might hate this enough to just. not.

The Lost Woods wasn't as intimidating as everyone talked it up to be.

Yes, it felt like the trees moved when you turned your back to them, and, granted, there were a few mobs of monsters that could get the jump on you if you weren't paying attention, but you had managed to get away with a few scrapes the few times it had happened.

The only thing to keep you company was the howling winds that grew in intensity and your own thoughts that were sprawling into whatever corners they could reach, but that was fine. You'd gratefully take decades-old gossip from the next town over instead of the creeping paranoia of what was behind you.

Of course, you would willingly go through this, that, and whatever else one thousand times over if it meant finding your nephew— and to keep yourself from reprimanding yourself from reprimanding the teens that had dared him out into the woods, but that was another thing.

Along your investigation, you'd found a broken trail of breadcrumbs that led to nothing when you followed them. They were torn pieces of fabric from his clothes, just big enough to be noticeable but small enough to keep himself protected from the elements.

(You'll forever be thankful that a younger your drilled the idea into his head.)

You'd long since discovered calling his name was useless. The only thing you've managed to do was draw the attention of a few wandering stalfos dressed in clothes from centuries ago.

The ones that had managed to find weapons were always the most painful to deal with.

If your determination weren't so established, you would've lost your sanity within the first day.

Food and water were no issue, you were smart enough to pack more than a week's worth of both. There were non-perishable options and several choices for your nephew when you found him; he'd no doubt have his fair share of cravings after being lost for so long.

(Three days was an eternity to you.)

Just before the sun had reached its crest in the sky, you'd realized that there were more empty clearings than trees. Wildlife had become scarce as well.

Where deers and wolves previously ran abundant, birds and squirrels that ran from the smallest of noises replaced them.

The wind had calmed, at least. It no longer wanted to push and shove you in whatever direction it pleased or steal the bag full of items you brought along. You didn't have to hug your sweater to your chest in fear of it being ripped from your arms either.

Instead, it was still.

Admittedly, the clearing gives you more paranoia than anything else.

When your mind starts to wander to places you'd rather it not reach, you begin to hum a quiet tune to yourself— your nephew's favorite— and allow it to ground you.

You were here for a reason. You wouldn't leave until you found him. You'll be fine until you find him, and you'll find some way to live in the forest that refuses to let its inhabitants go peacefully.

It's hours later when you hear the first sound of life (or suspended death) that doesn't feel like a threat— though, in hindsight, you should've been smarter and more suspicious of it when you first heard it.

A high-pitched instrument repeats each croon you let out, eventually taking over and silencing you. You follow the tune without much of a thought. If it were some sort of elaborate trap to lure you in, you couldn't be mad at yourself if you fell for it.

Clusters of trees become less and less as you follow the instrument and its recreation of your nephew's song. You call his name and are met with nothing but the music (from an ocarina, you quickly recognize) growing louder as time passes.

To say you're shocked when a large and, admittedly, well-kept manor enters your field of view would be an understatement. It's covered in vines, invasive arrowroots, and spreading flowers, but looks lived in if the smoldering smoke slowly dissipating in the afternoon air was anything to go by.

You couldn't begin to imagine who lived inside before the woods took it over (or what lived in it now). The architecture says it predates the Hero split in four, but you doubted the inhabitants of the floating sky built something so elaborate when they returned to the surface.

Your eyes jump past the crumbling pillars and dilapidated statues to the half-glass double doors that seemed to open on their own.

The music was coming from inside the manor now.

Steeling your nerves and squaring your shoulders, your hand grips tight on the strap of your satchel as you walk up the stone stairs covered in moss. You have to hold onto the guardrail installed next to it just as tight. Looking down, you find the carvings of it sorely separating it from the older antiquity of the manor.

Taking in smaller details (for future escapes or weapons against whatever lived inside, you'd figure out later), you find that the small pools of water that came from the sides of the manor and ran and fell alongside the stairs you climbed held small clumps of straw-colored fur. Some caused the surrounding water to turn into a pink hue that reminded you of fairies you've seen in childrens' books.

(Your hand reaches into the satchel to make sure you brought all of your nephew's well-loved books as well as a novel or two for yourself.)

(You did, thankfully.)

There's a smell filled with musk that permeates the air the closer you get to the manor, thick with amber and ginger and it reminds you of the times you come across a pack of wolves during your childhood.

Upon entering the manor, you find it was strongest in the wing of the manor to your right. It took over almost the entirety of your senses, but it wasn't an unwelcome or overwhelming sensation. If you paid close enough attention, you could sense the homely feeling underneath the ferality of it.

You prayed you'd be able to tell when the beast returned; if it was gone in the first place.

You take close note of how the foyer wasn't truly a foyer with how it was filled with windows rather than walls that led to a courtyard and how the only way to enter the wings of the manor was the winded stairs that connected via the terrace.

You don't fail to notice how the wing coated in the musky scent is coated entirely in shadows despite all the sources of light.

You couldn't decide if you were thankful or filled with loathing at the idea of what roamed on that side of the manor.

It's a struggle to turn your eyes away from the darkened wing of the manor, but you do manage when the music picks up once more from the left wing. It's significantly brighter and doesn't fill you with a sense of dread as the right one does.

Trap be damned, your nephew was here, you knew it— you felt it.

Reaching the top of the stairs, you find that you're inside a parlor room that leads to three other pathways. One was a library, another was a dining room, and the last was a small hallway.

In any other situation, you'd explore some more. The supposed beast that possibly lived in the manor kept everything in better shape than what you'd expect— or hopefully it was the forest spirits that lived throughout the forest.

Hopefully, those same spirits kept your nephew safe.

You have to close your eyes to better determine where the music is coming from, the only thing you can hear beside it and your own breathing being the manor settling. Your ears guide you inside the hall and you find it branches into a corridor, a bathroom, and two bedrooms.

Common sense seems to leave you when you spot the back of your nephew's head. Your breath quickens as you watch him clap along with the ocarina, you force your eyes to keep their clarity when you hear him hum each note just as you remember.

"''ire," you call in a weaker voice than you intended or thought you had. The nickname he claimed he hated so much tumbled from your lips so easily as you rushed inside the room, one arm rushing to remove your satchel while the other reached out to almost check if he was real.

The Lost Woods were known for their tricks, after all.

When he turns to face you, he's scrambling over himself in the bed. You're able to see how he limps on his right ankle and knee, how the entirety of his limbs were wrapped in bandage wrap as though done by a child. There was no blood, so you hold off on checking him over.

(The bandages were stained, thankfully not with blood. It was mostly dust and grime.)

(You'd have to sanitize whatever was wrong.)

You meet him more than halfway when you catch the way he winces and hisses with each movement.

"Auntie— Auntie— Titi!" His voice is airy as he speaks, emotion causing his words to come out as chokes. His arms reciprocated the tight hug you had on him, forcibly keeping his arms from trembling due to either nerves or injuries. "Titi, Titi, Titi!"

The way he says the word makes him sound like some chittering bug. If you listened hard enough, you could tell how his teeth clattered together, but you couldn't decipher if it was from a chill or emotion.

All you wanted to do was keep his head against the crook of your shoulder and neck while you pressed kisses to the crown of his head and kept him as close to you as you could, but you knew better.

Pulling away, you reach back for the satchel that you previously discarded. "What's wrong? What happened?" You force your voice to even out when you speak, hands already reaching for his arms after you sit the bag against your hip.

He shakes his head, but you've known him long enough to know there was something wrong. "They're from when I first went in the forest," he answers, voice quivering. "It's all healed. I think."

He doesn't push your hands away or pull his arms back when you skillfully unravel the bandages, carefully pulling and prodding the scars that littered the skin, and he was telling the truth despite the coloring.

"Did you forage like I taught you? Why are most of them green?"

"The spirits."

"The spirits?"

"And the soldier." He looks over your shoulder as though searching for their figures. "I haven't seen him yet, though."

Your eyes squint as one of your hands rubs over the strange texture of the scar, the other reaching for the antiseptic and clean fabric in your bag. "Are these spirits children or small trees with masks?"

You'd heard of both in legend. No one's ever seen them.

You're not sure which you'd rather watch over your nephew.

His eyes drift to his side before peering back over your shoulder once again. His brows furrow as he thinks of how to answer, head tilting as his pupils dilate.

"Both," he answers, "and ones that look like scarecrows. I asked them to bring you."

You force your gaze to keep itself on your nephew. You wouldn't let it wander to spirits you couldn't even see. "The ocarina?" You instead ask another question jumping around your mind, sucking your tongue in appreciation when he nods. "Smart boy."

An airy laugh leaves him, his face lighting up with a smile. "Learned from the best," he snorts.

You risk pressing kisses to the apples of his cheeks and forehead at his flattery, hands cupping themselves on the nape of his neck to bring him closer.

A younger him would push you away without a second thought, whining on about how you were embarrassing him in front of his friends.

He lets you do so now regardless of the spirits that surround you both.

"What've you been eating?" Your hands drop to his biceps when you pull away. They weren't thin like you'd expect them to be after three days in the forest; they were fatter than they had been before he left. "Who's been feeding you?"

His answer of "the Soldier," is quicker than you would've liked. "He goes out and hunts. He always brings back meat. I think it's deer.. it tastes.. bland."

"He.. cooks it, right?"

Another laugh wracks through your nephew's body. He knows you're only being cautious, but he can't help it.

"All the way through," he hums, flexing his arms when they start feeling stiff. "I think I don't like it because it's not your cooking."

He knows what your response is going to be before he finishes speaking, years of having lived under your guidance making him attuned to the smallest of your movements.

When your expression shifts from being relieved to disappointment with a twitch of your eye, he can tell you're not pleased with his statement.

Dousing the fabric in the antiseptic, you take his arm in your hand and begin wiping it down. "Don't be rude." Your voice takes on a less-than-pleased rasp, speaking lowly as if you knew the Soldier was near; but you still apologize when the sting sets in. "Have you thanked him?"

(You're sure you would continue to speak quietly regardless of the context of the conversation. You didn't want to risk "the Soldier," doing anything unfavorable.)

(Your nephew's words of praise did little to ease your stressed heart.)

"I never know when he's here. He drops the food off while I'm asleep. He brings books and carvings too." He watches as you wrap his arm in another roll of (cleaner) bandages, undoing the old one on his other arm while you prepare another piece of fabric. "The Spirits say I'm the most excitement he's had in a while, so he doesn't mind."

His voice was beginning to grow hoarse from speaking so quietly. You tap his throat to tell him to relax.

"They say he's nice," he continues, doing as told. Tapping the fingers of his now free hand against your shin, he tries to recall what all they've told him.

"I think they said he used to live in another part of the woods when he was a kid?—" His eyes glance back over your shoulder, suddenly becoming sure of himself. "— Ah. They did. They said he left and came back when he was older."

You raise a brow but don't speak your question.

Your nephew takes hold of your retreating hands in both of his.

A clatter and snippy huff outside the bedroom door rouses you from your light sleep.

Nearing a week into your stay at the manor, you'd think you'd be more accustomed to the noise, but you aren't.

You carefully remove your nephew's head from your arm, using even more caution when trying to remove the conjoined weight of several spirits from your legs as you slip out of the bed.

It's hard, but you manage to do so without waking any of them— you hope.

(You still couldn't see any of the Spirits, but over time you could feel when they crowded around you and when the wind moved as they rushed past you.)

The floorboards creak beneath your feet.

You hear the sound of claws scratching against the floor on the other side of the door.

Pressing the crown of your head against the door, you tap your fingers along the handle to give the Soldier a warning and wait a few moments.

If you listened hard enough, you swear you could hear him scurrying into one of the other rooms before he shut the door behind him.

It reminded you of a dog.

Smiling to yourself, you're careful opening the door, keeping your head to it and your eyes on the floor. You turn to the other side of it to close it, waiting for the click of the lockset to speak.

"Are you decent?"

His confused "huh," sounds more akin to a gasp than any other noise.

You rap your fingers against the handle again. "Can I look up?"

"Oh—" he sounds choked. "Yeah— Yes. Yes. You can. Sorry."

"Thank you," you hum, leaning down to pick up the tray of food. It consisted of almost entirely meat with a few vegetables you figure are exclusive to the woods. "For both the food and taking care of my nephew."

There was a thumping noise behind the door, the frequency of it was like a tail beating excitedly.

The Soldier lets out a croaking noise and you know his mouth started moving before his mind was able to catch up. "No, I should thank you for looking for him— and for telling him not to use his name."

You let out an airy laugh. "It's common knowledge where I'm from. I wouldn't be a good parental figure if I didn't."

Another noise leaves the Soldier as you fix yourself to open the door. You can't discern what this one means. "I don't know when they started calling me the Soldier, but it's not— uhm.. A favorite.. of mine."

"Oh?"

"Soldier," he sounds more confident in himself and you don't have the heart to tell him you heard him the first time, "it's a nickname. I don't know where the kids got it, but I don't like it."

Readjusting the tray to rest against your hip and forearm rather than in both your hands, you hum curiously. "So what should we be calling you?"

He pauses longer than you'd think it'd take to remember your own name, but you wait.

"Link."

"Link?"

"Yes."

"Like in a chain?"

".. Yes."

You nod even though you're sure he can't see you. "I'll be sure to tell 'ire."

"Thank you." There's more thumping from behind the door.

"And thank you."

There's another noise from Link you struggle to understand, but you figure it's because he starves for conversation. "I heard what your nephew said about the food, too. I'll try to find something to flavor it with next time I'm out."

"Thank you," you repeat. Your eyes curve with your smile. "He'll greatly appreciate it."

Link raps his fingers against the door in response, but he doesn't say anything. You take that as your queue to reenter the bedroom.

"How come your side of the house is always dark?"

You gently pinch your nephew's elbow and he swats your hand away, leaning impossibly close to the door that separates him and Link.

There are a few moments of silence from the man that 'ire filled with bated breath. Link takes an audible, steadying breath before knocking what you think is his nail against the door.

"I wouldn't want to scare you both off."

It was an answer you expected, but you were disappointed nonetheless.

"Boo," your nephew groans. You're sure Link could hear the pout in his voice if the quiet chuckle he lets out was anything to go by. "You can't be worse than what I've seen out there."

There's genuine intrigue in the noise Link lets out. "Oh? What exactly have you seen then?"

Pure excitement fills your nephew's expression when he turns to look at you from over his shoulder. His fingers tap against the floor restlessly, tongue already listing off whatever monsters he's encountered (read: come up with) in his twelve years of life.

"— but their teeth are the worst! They're poisonous and there isn't a cure for it!"

You have no clue as to what creature he was talking of now. There were at least fifteen of them who injected poison through their teeth, eight of which had no cure.

(You don't have to strain as hard to see the Spirits as you did two weeks ago. The shadows and light shift around then as they move to sit around your nephew, seemingly hooked on your nephew's every word.)

(You remember when he would crowd himself around you similarly whenever you would tell him a story.)

You close the book that sat in your lap more for decoration than entertainment at that point and place a hand over your heart.

"I drew a lot of them too! My aunt brought them with her!" He pushes himself through the motions of standing up before immediately stopping and returning to his seat in front of the door. "I'll show them to you if you eat dinner with us!"

There are a few stammering noises from the other side of the door and yet you can't bring yourself to apologize for your nephew's bargaining.

Your own curiosity was quickly starting to get the better of you against your wishes.

The noise he had made several nights before makes itself heard again. His claws (you discovered those a few nights ago) scratch against the wooden flooring as he moves to sit against the other wall rather than the door, his voice moving with him.

"I don't want to— I wouldn't want— want to disturb you— either of you." His words are muffled by the door and his growing quietness, a regretful lilt stuck in his throat. "But thank you for the offer."

If he truly didn't want to join you and your nephew (and the spirits) for dinner, he was terrible at showing it.

"I know I wouldn't mind," you hum, standing to put away the book. A loud thumping makes the floor vibrate and 'ire has to stifle a laugh. "I wouldn't mind picking up a pot and pan again either."

"No!" Link quickly apologizes for his tone after realizing his outburst. "You don't have to. I wouldn't be a good host if I made you do that."

"Are you scared I'll poison you?"

Your nephew's voice drops to a whisper he swears you won't be able to hear. "She can't. She's the best cook ever."

You're not sure how the two correlate, but you'd take thew compliment.

"She won't?" Link's voice drops to entertain your nephew despite his earlier convictions. It takes on a playful direction, fur rubbing against the wood-tiled floors in excitement (based on prior interactions). "You've never gotten sick? Not once?"

'ire begins to shake his head but quickly stops. "Only from eating too much— which you will do, by the way. Best cook around," he reiterates.

Link chuckles, tapping his fingers against the floor restlessly. It takes him a moment to come up with something to say and neither of you push him to hurry.

You were both too hooked on his every word to do so anyway.

"I'll.." He's shy for all the attention. You wonder when the last time he got so much focus on him outside of the spirits. ".. I'll be sure to think about your offer. Why don't you tell me about a few of your monsters so I have more of an incentive?"

Your nephew jumps on the opportunity while you think over the plethora of recipes in your mind.

It wasn't rare for one of the imps to accompany you outside when you went foraging.

You never strayed too far from the manor— the last time you had been dragged outside of the area you had designated for yourself (and your nephew) by the children, Link had to come and rescue to lot of you before the sun had gotten too low.

Suffice to say, it was a rather humbling experience.

Kneeling, squatting, or sitting on the ground had never been easy on your knees or back, but the grass below you had felt as though it were a pillow hailing from the Heavens itself.

Your body works on picking herbs from the ground before placing them in your bag repurposed for your (new) everyday tasks while your mind wanders elsewhere.

You're humming to yourself when a twig snapping breaks your focus.

It was a nice reminder that the imps hadn't, in fact, accompanied you that day.

Your head lifts to survey the surrounding woods. Your entire body was still, mimicking a deer caught on a hunting trip.

There was nothing immediately in your line of sight that could be seen as a threat, but you had lived a long enough life to know that wasn't enough reason to let your guard down.

You're slow to rise to your feet and your ears are strained as you listen for whatever had made the noise.

"I'm sorry!"

You can feel your body relax when you hear Link's voice call out from behind a tree. You sink back to your knees without much thought, clutching the fabric of your top to calm your battering heart.

You weren't sure what you were going to do if it were an actual danger anyway.

"I didn't mean to scare you," he continues. His arms move and you can see one drop against the side of a tree while the other tightens around the corpse of an animal. "You were so still, I wasn't sure if you were okay."

A quiet, breathless noise leaves you. You're not sure if he could hear it, but you can see his shoulders relax when you do. "You're— You're fine! I just.. didn't know that you'd be out and about at this time."

When the hand not occupied with that week's dinner (barely) lifts to grab ahold of a tree branch, you're shocked to just now find out how tall he is.

"It's not your fault. I didn't know you were out here," he grunts while gently tugging at the branch. "Are you alone?"

Your eyes drop to the flora that surrounds you to not feel so invasive. Your fingers rub against the blades of grass idly when a restless feeling overtakes you. "A few of the kids said they'd join me later, but I'm not too sure when that's supposed to be." A short, genuine laugh leaves you. "I wouldn't be surprised if they forgot."

Link lets out his own, quiet laughter that you can only clue together when you see the entire tree shake in your peripheral. "I wouldn't take it to heart. They say they'll join me in hunting all the time but never do."

"Have you ever given them a stern talking to? I've heard that usually works with spirits."

"They barely listen to me as is. I think you'd have more luck than me."

"Is that an offer?"

"Are you headed home now?"

A strange vice tightens around your heart at his wording while you look through your bag. "Mhm," you hum, standing now that your legs aren't like that of a newborn. "You'll have to remind me of the way, though."

"I can guide you," he hums in reply. "You just can't look back."

Turning your back to him, you're surprised you don't jump when a sharp claw gives a ghostly touch to the center of your back.

You're shocked that you disregard the urge to check over your shoulder every step back to the manor.

You were no stranger to 'ire's night terrors.

They'd gotten better over the past few years as he aged, but all that progress had been undone during the near month you'd been in the forest.

Wiping away the tears that had managed to slip out, you ignore the prickly and uncomfortable feeling that comes with keeping your lulling head up so you can watch him.

You'd done it a thousand times before and would do it one thousand and one more if it meant he felt better.

You don't miss how his grip on your arm tightens when you start humming his favorite song. Your hand trails up to his hairline, nails (claws?) tracing the paint on his face that refused to fade.

You'd spent so long trying to scrub them and the green marks off, you hadn't even realized his skin had started to pale into a sickly grey in patches while darkening into (what looked like) a necrotic black in others.

You didn't even want to think about the changes that had started coming to your body.

You were, however, thankful you weren't thinning into a stalfos.

"You're not as sneaky as you'd like to think."

"How'd you know?"

"I have a young nephew. You learn quickly."

A brief laugh leaves Link from behind the cracked door. Though you didn't face him, you could see the way his eyes illuminated the wall in front of you, even managed to catch on some of 'ire's face.

It was a pretty blue color.

You don't comment on it.

"What's wrong?" Your voice has a deep rasp to it, your hand continuing to stroke your nephew's face even after he begins to calm down.

He'd slowly begun dropping more and more barriers (physical and mental) when it came to communicating with you both, having taken up shadows in their stead. He had gotten more confident in conversation as well, stammering and stuttering less the longer your nephew forced him to talk.

It makes you wonder how long it'd take for him to finally make true on those dinner plans.

"I heard him," Link hums just as quietly, the glow of his eyes moving to instead look over the sleeping spirits that crowded themselves around the space not occupied on the bed. "I was worried. Do you want help with them?"

A soft laugh leaves you when one of the imps buries their head onto your calf as though it were a pillow. "They've been like this since we first got here. 'ire," you press a kiss to his forehead when he rouses, waiting for him to settle before speaking again, "says they like to cling."

"You don't mind?"

"He's not too far off from them nowadays."

"Does he miss anything?"

Laying on your back, you being 'ire's head to rest against your shoulder. Your gaze is finally able to see how he'd take up all of the doorway (and then some) through the crack of the door.

You'd be shocked he hadn't flinched away if it hadn't been for the way his hand reached out to clasp it.

The tips of his fingers reached well past the frame of the door, his claws further, and you could only imagine just how much space he was taking up in the small hallway.

You were confident he could fit five or six of you in his hand without trying.

Your eyes jump back to the three (possibly four?) eyes before he can become self-conscious.

"Almost everything," you answer after pulling yourself from your thoughts. "His clothes, his dolls.. He could go without his friends, though."

His eyes jump from your face to the window as he huffs out a nervous laugh. It makes you wonder if he knows something you don't, but you don't push. "And you?"

"Hmm?"

"And yourself," he clarifies, "what do you miss?"

You're silent.

What exactly did you miss?

The feeling of your village's grass between your toes after the rain, the baker's treats that no other could replicate, being a part of such a tight-knit community, the sun after a particularly muggy morning—

There wasn't any need to be a sap.

"I'm not sure," you finally say after a long period of silence. You hadn't realized your eyes had left Link, yet when you force your gaze back to him, he holds it without issue. "I struggled with becoming attached to things unlike 'ire."

"Hm."

"What?"

"I can't remember the last time someone said something like that."

"You have visitors like us often?"

"More than you'd think."

"And what's become of them?"

The glow of his eyes drops to the sleeping spirits that litter before looking to the window again and you quickly understand.

The hum that leaves your throat is more lackluster than you intended it to be, but given how quickly the topic had changed, you give yourself the grace.

"Well," you start after clearing your throat, "what's something that you miss?"

The manor creaks when Link leans against a wall and his confidence in the movement tells you more than you'd expected.

You don't think you'd ever have the same amount of trust he held in it.

There's a playful tone in his voice when he speaks, one of his hands raised to scratch against his chin. "You'd have to promise not to be dramatic when I say."

"Is it my fault you use such outdated terms thousands of years behind my time?"

Link turns away to stifle his laughter, shrouding the room in darkness and forcing your eyes to strain with it.

"I can't say I've had the easiest experience understanding you or your nephew's sayings," he hums, drowning you in the light of his eye when he turns back, "the kids have to keep filling me in."

"Shame, and here I thought you'd been closer to my age. Have you been leading me on this entire time?"

Link's claws knock against the wall, his tail wagging against the floor while he huffs his amusement. "Have I? When I don't even know your name?"

If the weight of 'ire wasn't on your shoulder, you're sure you would've had a physical reaction of some sort.

"It'd do you good to not forget it," he hums, the movement of his tail slowing until it stops entirely. "Titi and Auntie, as much as I hate to say it, won't do much good."

Another lackluster noise leaves you as the arm trapped underneath your nephew lifts to rub your thumb during his forehead. "How fun."

"The kids are too attached to do anything now." The door slowly creaks open before stopping. It shuts so there's only a crack instead. "You'll be fine to share your name now."

"You never answered my question."

"Which one?"

"I haven't asked a lot," you huff before taking a softer tone, eyes rolling closed. "What is it that you miss?"

Link quietly snorts, muffling it by pressing his face to the door. He takes a steadying breath before saying a quiet, "a lot, I suppose. I can't name just a few things." A low noise leaves him, it's similar to a growl. "My friends? Playing music as well— my hands aren't good for much but skewering these days. My horse, Epona, too. She was the prettiest mare."

"Is she red with a white mane?"

"You saw the kids' drawings?"

"I've seen her before, I think— or maybe it was a hallucination?" The hand stroking 'ire's forehead stops as you scrounge your memories. "When I saw her outside the forest, I knew it was real. Another fated hero was mounting her."

You'd like to think yourself a master of figuring out what each noise he makes is meant to mean, but the one Link lets out once you finish speaking is short and of a higher pitch than normal.

When he begins to stammer over his words as he had when you first interacted with him, it feels like years' worth of progress has been undone.

"I— uhm— You— I don't— err— Thank—"

His tail thumps three times before he knocks his head against the door with a heavy groan. He lets out a quiet "Hylia, be damned," you couldn't help but think he hoped you wouldn't hear to go along with his frustration.

"It's been a long night," you finally prompt. "You'd best get some shut-eye before 'ire bombards you with more from his imagination, yeah?"

"Yeah," Link answers in a weak voice. "Yeah," he repeats to himself more than anything, "of course. Good night," he steps away from the door. "Sleep well."

"Same for you."

The night Link finally takes you and 'ire up on your offer for dinner, your nephew and the spirits had taken to floating around the east wing's dining room to prepare it for such a grand event.

"Titi, titi!" One of the Kokiri exclaims, tugging at the fabric of your skirt (that Link had made out of a spare bedsheet). Her voice had a strange echo to it— all of them, really— and had given you migraines up until you'd finally become accustomed to it. "'ire says that you'll make your world-famous pudding! Will you? Will you?"

You ignore her exaggeration in favor of forcing yourself to wrench your eyes away unless you wanted her puppy dog face to work on you. "Should I? I.. I can't say any of you have been acting well enough to deserve it.."

Even in your peripheral, it's not hard to miss the absolutely crushed look on her face. Her eyes were wide and her bottom lip wobbling like she was about to cry despite your joking tone.

"But why—y," she whines, dragging the last syllable on while hiccuping on her breath as she went on. You know the tears pooling in her eyes are just as fake as your rejection of her request— but you know just as well who'll win the battle at the end of the day.

"I—" hiccup. "Want—" hiccup. "Cake—" hiccup.

You raise a brow. "Pudding or cake, sweetheart? I can't make both."

The girl begins to climb your back while you return to sautéing the vegetables, arms wrapping around your neck so she can press her cheek against yours. "Cake! No, pudding! No! Cake! No—"

"I'll tell you what," you interrupt, taking the pan from over the open flame once the food is charred to your liking. Your skin thanks you when you step away and douse the fire, the arid air leaving through the open window. "Why don't you ask a few of the others which they want then we can try and get Link to bake it after dinner?"

The girl jumps off your back with stars practically filling her eyes. She cries out for several names while she runs off, hands clapping excitedly as she shouts out the change in plans.

You're left in peace until your nephew enters with his journals clutched between his arms, bouncing between his feet while he watches you finish plating each food item on dishes you could only dream of owning where you're from.

"D'you think he'll come?" 'ire's voice is low, almost as though scared Link will hear. You know he does if the night of his nightmares a few months ago were anything to go by— but he didn't need to know that.

"He'd better," you answer in an equally low tone. "I didn't spend so long slaving away at this just for him not to."

"Is that a threat?"

The plates in your hands aren't spared by the flinch that wracks through your body. Your reflexes are quick to catch them before any of the food can hit the floor.

'ire, on the other hand, has no issue with voicing his shock in the form of a scream, scurrying from the doorway while dropping his journals. He jumps behind you, hands clutching the fabric of your skirt while he hides himself behind your hip.

"Well?"

Placing a hand over your racing heart after putting the plates down, your other hand comes down to rest on 'ire's head. "It's rude to sneak up on people, you know."

The blond fur of his chest rustles with his laughter. It was difficult to see much else other than that, what with the way he hid himself behind the wall connecting the kitchen to the pantry.

You hadn't even heard his footsteps or creaking floorboards when he first approached. Had he been there the entire time and 'ire hadn't seen him, or had he only walked in after 'ire entered?

You wondered if he was naturally quiet or if he just learned which floorboards were loose.

"Is it sneaking when you were expecting me?" Link's voice is lighter than it usually is, a slight tremble could even be heard if you focused on it enough. He rocks on his feet and briefly leans forward, a less organic-looking side profile coming into view before leaving right after. "If I knew I would be this unwelcomed, I—"

"That's a joke, right?" 'ire stomps away from your side while he speaks, stepping over his discarded compilations of works to stare up at Link with wide eyes. Your nephew ignores the way Link's hands raise to cover his face and how he backs away as soon as he pivots in his foot to face him. "You're not actually gonna pansy out, right?"

Your feet lead you to the two before you can have much of a thought. "Zaire," you say in a terse voice, taking hold of his shoulder and bringing him against your front so you can stop him from interrogating the poor man. "Don't be rude."

Whatever argument he has dies on his tongue when he takes a good, long look at Link. His mouth gaped open like a fish, one of his fingers lifting so he could push it into the fur of his stomach, watching the skin beneath sink with the force of it as though it were the most interesting thing in the world.

"Woah."

If you had any less sense of dignity, you'd let yourself have the same reaction.

"Don't be rude," you reiterate, pushing Zaire's hand down until it finally reaches its rightful place at his side.

"No," Link breathes into his palms, clearing his voice to try and rid it of the anxiety (and, possibly, humiliation). "He's— he's fine. This wouldn't be the first time someone responded like that. I'd be more concerned if he did any other way."

Zaire shrugs your hands from your shoulders, stepping until he is toe-to-claw with Link. "Then why are you hiding your face? It can't be that bad," he says, tugging at the fur of Link's elbows, rubbing them between his fingers so he could better be accustomed to the texture.

Spreading his fingers enough so you both could see the four holes in the inorganic material, Link lets out another heavy breath. "I'm self-conscious," he can tell the answer doesn't please Zaire and continues speaking, "It's been.. too long.. since I've shown anyone either of my faces."

"A mask is.." Your voice falters off when you finally find the words to speak, losing them again when you fail to find a proper way to articulate your thoughts.

"It's mostly you and the kids, no?" You try again when you figure out a way to better word it. "Is a mask not.. Is it.. necessary?"

When the blue light that emits from his eyes lifts to look at you, an unidentifiable emotion shoots through you. He holds your gaze for a few, silent moments before turning his head and dropping his hands.

"It's like a second skin," he simply offers.

"Sad," Zaire sighs, backing away and turning until he stood in the center of the kitchen. "Can you still eat with it? Like I said, Auntie is the best cook in all the realms and you have to taste it to believe it."

Curse your nephew's skill of lightening a mood.

Rather than let his insecurities keep him from looking at either of you for the duration of the night, Link looks down at Zaire with a playful jolt of his shoulders. "It's not fused with my face."

Zaire's eyes curl into crescents while he grabs two of the plates from the counter. "Good!" His tail (a terrifying new addition when he first started changing) wraps around the third dish, walking himself past the two of you in the pantry so he could place each one on the dining table. "You'll love this then! Auntie," you don't miss the way he adds your name causally, "always makes this on a big day!"

Link repeats your name under his breath before doing the same with Zaire's. He lets out a thoughtful nod as each one rolls off his tongue, one pair of eyes looking at you while the other continues to follow your nephew.

He wrings his hands together when he catches the way you examined him oh-so-carefully, arms crossed with your head tilted.

"It's nice," he gulps as though every inch of nervousness had reentered his body. "It's a nice name. I like it. It suits you."

You don't know if you were teasing him prior, but you decide to do so now.

"I'd hope so." You pat a hand against his arm as you walk into the kitchen, ignoring the oily feel of his fur. You ignore the feeling of him watching and instead focus on searching through the cupboards for the drink you had foraged around to make just days before. "I could say the exact same for you, thankfully."

"Now, why don't you have a seat so I can play host this time?"

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