#mother of god there’s so much depth to these guys

[cruisingheightswithdragons]

TELL US ABOUT YOUR WARRIOR CATS OCS!!!!

Oh god there’s just too much to unpack in a single ask because my twin @never-went-to-comic-con and I have been cultivating these clans since like 2010 but here goes!

There are three clans (later four. We’ll get to that), SunClan, MoonClan, and FogClan(named PhantomClan for a while). They all live around a small lake in a remote part of the Black Hills. SunClan lives in a forested area on a large hill, with their share of territory having the fewest trees compared to the rest of the clans. MoonClan is further down the hills, their part of the forest is densely wooded, making them prime nocturnal hunters. FogClan lives in a valley, the lake water shrouding their part of the forest into a perpetual fog.

Like the canon series, ours has several arcs with different protagonists. We’ll start with the first.

In SunClan, there are three sisters: Skyheart(this one is my twin’s main oc), Silverheart, and Dawnheart(this one is my main oc), daughters of the leader Coldstar, and his mate Sparrowleaf. Their story centers on the three of them discovering a plot in which one of their fellow warriors has allied with rogues and the PhantomClan leader to try and take over the forest. There’s plenty of smaller plots in their stories, such as Silverheart defecting to MoonClan to be with the father of her kits, Dawnheart longing to be a medicine cat despite the path StarClan has put her on, and Skyheart(who later becomes Skystar) juggling motherhood and leadership.

Between arcs 1 and 2, Skystar realizes she was never meant to lead SunClan, and instead was destined to create a fourth clan. She, along with some warriors from SunClan and the other two clans, create SkyClan(no relation to the canon SkyClan). Dawnheart becomes leader of SunClan after Skystar leaves. The making of a new clan forever changes the relationships between the others, some cats thinking that SkyClan should never have existed. This sets the stage for a lot of tension later on.

The second arc focuses on the sisters’ kits, mainly Skystar’s son Blazefur. He and a few of his cousins go on a journey to the mountain of faces(it’s mount rushmore lol) to receive a prophecy. When they return, one of the journeying cats from FogClan(PhantomClan has been renamed at this point), Deadshadow, throws a coup and becomes leader. Taking inspiration from the PhantomClan days, he tries to take over the lake, only to be defeated. He is humbled, and becomes FogClan’s medicine cat instead.

An idea for another arc revolves around SkyClan warrior Frostbite, as he really looks up to his mentor Ravensight and soon after he becomes a warrior, tensions rise between SkyClan and MoonClan over territory and hunting rights, and then battle happens, MoonClan leader Duskstar kills Ravensight because he feels betrayed by her bc Raven was MoonClan before joining SkyClan, and Frost takes that so personally and continues to build hatred towards MoonClan which leads to a war once he becomes SkyClan’s leader to drive them out, but the other clans put a stop to it because everyone has come to the realization that there should be four clans not three.

Meanwhile, Coalpelt the SkyClan medicine cat is a paranoid kitty scared of everything and when his mentor Spottedface dies, he spirals. But he’s also the most knowledgeable about herbs so he does his job phenomenally.

There’s so much to this that there’s no way to cover it all, but so many characters have their own arcs, highs and lows, even background characters getting their times to shine! I hope you’ve enjoyed the sample of these clans and a few of its cats!

[skrunksthatwunk]

world's thinnest walls versus parents' stupidest argument

[solkara]

❛ 𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌'𝐒 𝐄𝐍𝐃 , lucerys velaryon ❜

⌗ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 , that fateful day at storms end the velaryon boy indeed had someone watching over him but not in the skys above but the waters below

⌗ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 , lucerys velaryon x fem! siren! reader

⌗ 𝐬𝐨𝐥'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 , okie so, this is my first hotd fic and omg I'm so excited!! hope you guys like it cuz ngl kinda obsessed with this concept cuz justice for bbg luke ya'll </3

house of the dragon masterlist

⌗ it's was another stormy day in storm's end. but there was something lingering in the air. a certain air of uncertainty that left you on edge for whatever reason. as if you were waiting for something to happen. though this didn't bother you much as being a siren was full of uncertainty from hunters to being spotted by humans.

⌗ though this didn't mean you weren't careful. as you were always ready to make you escape if you were under threat. though storm's end had become a haven for you. a place shrouded in stormy weather and dark mist with no shortage of food whether it be fish or human. with massive cliff faces that spanned as far as the eye could see and a vast labyrinth of underground sea tunnels. it was truly paradise to you.

⌗ and besides borros baratheon being an oaf and the odd few sailors who would drunkenly sing love songs which sounded eerily similar to a dying duck in an attempt to woo 'the siren of storm's end' life was peaceful. that was until the dragons came.

⌗ you had never seen a dragon before. you had heard of them of course and the house that wielded them. it was hard not to as sailors talked about them almost as much as they talked about sirens. but the fear of dragons was far more real to them. as no sane siren would let a human see them and live to tell the tale.

⌗ now normally in an instance like this you would have dived into deep water or slipped into one of the underwater caves until the incident blew. but something compiled you to watch. and you did with piqued interest. as you watched the smaller dragon flea from the behemoth that stalked him from above. it was clear the two dragons were far from friends.

⌗ and you held your breath as you watched the larger dragon rip the smaller in half with ease. sending both the dragon and his rider plummeting into the water below with nothing to break their fall. as the remains of the chewed-up dragon began to sink so too did his barely conscious rider.

⌗ he looked like an angel. with a halo of dark hair pale skin big dark eyes and a painfully innocent face. as he sank deeper and deeper into the depths of the sea. you couldn't help but admire him for a brief moment. and debated if he should be your dinner or not. though you ultimately decided against it.

⌗ quickly springing into action. you swam towards him. tail slicing through the water creating ripples in the process. grabbing his hand you dragged him to the surface of the water. holding him securely in your arms you couldn't help but silently hope that he wasn't coherent enough to know what was going on. as if he did you would definitely have to kill him.

⌗ as you pulled him to the rocky shore. you lay him on his back as you place your ear to his chest to hear his heartbeat. thank god he wasn't dead. but now you were unsure of what to do. should you just leave him here? or?

⌗ and just as you were debating with yourself about what to do. the boy began to violently cough up sea water. as he lurched forward with arms clasped around his stomach. before looking directly at you before speaking in what felt like a mixture of a tired mumble and a plea for help he said.

⌗ "I want my muña" and with that he passed out again out of his exhaustion. now from those few words he spoke you could deduce a few things. one he was either a targaryen or velaryon as they were the only house that spoke high valyrian. and two he wanted his mother and you would do your damnedest to help him get back to her.

⌗ as you sat next to the sleeping boy you though of your next plan of action. as you weren't too familiar with all of the house of the realm and where they resided. but you decided it would be easier to leave him at dragonstone. as it was the closest to you and was also the castle of house targaryen.

⌗ and with that you set off with the boy in your grasp. as you raced though the water under the cover of night. reaching dragonstone as the first peeps of the sun made it's way over the horizon. as you lay the boy on the shore in a place where he could be easily found.

⌗ as you turned to leave you felt a hand gently grab yours and a soft voice ask. "will I see you again?". and all you could do was softly smile at the boy who struggled to keep his eyes open as sleep threatened to envelop him as you waited for his eyes to close again before slipping out of his grip and disappearing into the water of the dark sea.

⌗ when lucerys velaryon woke from his slumber he was on the shores of dragonstone. he was confused about how he got here. his mind was a blurry mess. and then he remembered. aemond. vahgar. drowning. the girl who saved him. so many questions and yet no answers. as he sat next to the water all he could seem to remember were her piercing eyes and....a tail.

⌗ fast forward till this day long after the coronation of his mother the queen rhaenyra. and still till this day the lord of driftmark still tells everyone a siren saved him that fateful day at storm's end. and every sunrise he waits by the water. waiting for a chance to say thank you to the girl he owed his life to.

[velvetures]

Hello loves💕 I still can't get over your writing I'm obsessed!!

I would love to request Roommate König x fem reader. König hears you fucking some guy on the other side of the wall and he can tell you faked it so once the dude is gone he's got you over his shoulder and is walking you to his bedroom to fuck you right. I love the idea of her trying to get him to confess to her and trying anything after months or years of mutual pining, her last resort is to make him jealous.

Overheard

a/n: I'm so sorry for being so slow my love... I always have the worst self-confidence with nsfw reqs. I constantly write them, delete them, and start all over... (this is like... the 8th full-draft retry) So I hope you'll forgive me if this isn't up to standard. Also, I know this trope has been covered by some really talented writers and I hoped to do it justice, and not feel like a carbon copy of something better. (ps. This shit is too long... but I knew if I deleted anything, I'd delete the whole thing over again.)

tw's: 18+ ONLY, nameless hookup, alluded unprotected sex w/side character, unintentional orgasm denial, the reader is mentally not in the best place for sex (disconnected), voyeurism, jealously, fem-oral receiving, fem-fingering receiving, dirty talk, König being a bit of a loser, König omitting his lack of experience, aftercare.

His mom kept saying it was about time to settle down. That the biological clock, normally pushed on women, was ever-present and ticking against his favor. But his sweet, innocent, mother didn’t know the depth of his awkwardness. Not even the slightest idea that her well-mannered boy, turned praise-worthy Colonel was nothing but a bumbling fucking idiot when it came to speaking with women. In the field, sure. He could give orders, discuss tactics, and even bullshit with the best of the best… but if a woman was among those? Oh hell. It was like trying to talk to a brick wall with a randomly developed stuttering issue.

He didn’t understand where it came from either.

It wasn’t like his mother was one of the overbearing types that made dating impossible, and nor did he exactly have the worst time when he was younger with women being interested. It was just… after they showed interest, that became the struggle. Relaxing wasn’t possible. Not when he knew that a woman’s perception of him was far higher than that of any man. Believing that even the smallest of gestures and phrases could earn him an immediate dismissal, and his name or photo being sent in some group-chat to be berated after a first date. He didn’t blame any of the women though… he knew what he looked like. What he sounded like… and God, how miserable his personality was compared to what his career and position would lead others to assume.

A shred of truth could always be found in his mother’s warning though.

He’d gone years without any meaningful relationship where the softer, side of a woman could be found. He found bastardized ways of getting a taste, but he could only allocate so much money a month to porn sites and camgirls without feeling like a total sleaze. The Colonel felt much more confident mapping out a prospective warzone than the contours of a woman’s body, and fuck… it made him more than a little embarrassed to admit. Enough so, that when you mentioned that your rental agreement was coming to an end, and you were trying to find somewhere new to stay, he offered for you to just move in with him.

He owned. Which made the idea of ‘rent’ or you paying it almost unquestionably stupid. It made the deal a little sweeter -in his mind- for you to agree, and then he wouldn’t have to be quite so personally diligent on logging onto online portals to pay utilities. That is, if he could get you to move in. And while in his own mind and body, every synapse screamed that he was being unrealistic, you hadn’t caught on. He’d looked just as stoic and cold as ever when he propositioned that you just start moving over your things into his house. Save money… it’ll be easier for you; He’d said, hard eyes glancing over your face. You thought saying ‘yes’ was anxiety-inducing? König nearly passed out in his office after walking there on numb feet and weak knees.

In the week following, he brought you a small ring of keys, and you started moving your life into his, one cardboard box at a time. And every night after returning from his on-base duties, he would have to physically restrain himself from opening up the taped flaps and getting a peek at the unattended items sitting by the front door. At the time, he thought it was nothing more than unchecked curiosity and instinct to feel-out a new situation. Just simply wanting to learn more about you before you started sleeping over. Merely the soldier in him. But box, by box, that curiosity didn’t dampen down. Even when your items began making their way out of their containers and enmeshing with his around the house.

Tea cups in the kitchen cabinet next to his thicker, coffee mugs. Throw blankets rolled and stacked in the far corning of the couch he rarely sat on. A little rug you’d tossed down in the kitchen in front of the stove with a little floral print that he’d been utterly possessed to not get any stains on while cooking, or by taking off his boots before walking inside. And while never claiming to be a ‘minimalist’ man, he learned right away that his house was nothing short of a hotel when it came to personality.

You’d brought at least five full walls worth of decor. Little trinkets and cute things from all over the world you’d been sneaky enough to stuff into the pockets of your gear. And all of it, had initially been shoved into an empty linen closet he’d been perfect happy with you claiming as your own since it was ‘on your side of the house’. That was, until he found himself noticing that you’d put more than “storage” things away, and had silently refused to put them where they belonged.

On the damn walls.

“I don’t decorate well anyways..” It’d been his excuse… or at least something along those lines. Maybe a little bit more gruff. Guarded. Because even in his own home, he had the tendency of walking around like someone was going to sneak up behind him.

So one week, while he was away, you took the permission and ran with it. Buying the picture hanging kits, and everything else needed to begin covering the Colonel’s walls with your amassed collection of utterly unnecessary, but brain-scratching decorations, art, and collectable junk. Spending a good half hour walking around the halls and rooms with a little smile of accomplishment on your face seeing the colonel’s house feeling more like a home. Totally unaware that he’d been checking the security cameras dotted around, watching you scale a shitty stepladder, climb the kitchen cabinets, and struggle to lift the more heavy items. All the while, growing more and more intrigued with this new arrangement. Debating whether he liked it or not. Rapt attention making the instinctive suggestion that you’d make a good wife far less perverse than he should’ve felt it to be.

Missions took precedence though. And it kept both of you busy more than not. Fully living adjacent instead of in a more dependent role. But there were decidedly small decisions that needed to be made. Like who was in charge of buying groceries, and getting essentials that you both used. König ended up just leaving cash on the counter once a week so you could take care of his end for him. Saving the trouble of a second loaf of bread being bought, or doubling up on paper towels after a miscommunication lead to fifty rolls of the shit needing to be stored somewhere. You did the job more than credibly, and it got you out of the house too.

Which was good, because you rarely left.

Not unlike him, you preferred your time spent in calm situations. Either reading reports, answering emails, and other related tasks before just closing that tab on your laptop and opening up an new one to watch a show or scroll on your phone. You appeared to thrive in his house when you could curl up like some little bird in a nest and just rest. Developing almost permanently sleepy eyes when you came through the door, and a softer tone of voice that took some getting used to. König didn’t exactly understand it. Why your demeanor changed so much within the house, and how it got substantially much more noticeable when your schedules aligned for both of you to be there at the same time.

A solid seven months or more passed before he got his answer. And from your late-night scrolling nonetheless.

Some woman, blabbering on about her husband, and all of the ways that he effected her life once she moved in with him. And, honestly, König wasn’t listening all that much. Having just begun sitting on the other end of the couch with you, since it was where you spent your evenings after dinner. And, it’d become a little bit of a new experience. Just being halfway close to you. Interacting, but not. A safe way to enjoy your presence without any expectations. But that woman on your phone caught his attention when she made the joke about being tired all the time. Tired. Sleepy. All the fucking time. He had to stare down at the TV to keep his head from snapping in your direction.

Apparently it was chemical. Some little thing in the back of a woman’s mind that men didn’t have the complexity to experience the same way. That this woman -and you- were so mentally focused for such a long time, that when the right person was around you, and created a safe space, it acted like a the strongest sleeping pill in existence. Flooding you with dopamine and melatonin to the point that your pretty face got even sweeter with those deep, sleepy looks and constant yawns at all times of the day. Getting a glimpse of you tapping the screen twice, and then tapping at your keyboard to leave a comment only reinforced his inquisitiveness. From the moving boxes, to watching you on cameras while away… and now realizing that you acted so sweet and docile around the house because of him..? He didn’t know how to control himself, and still find a way to keep figuring you out.

Wanting more…

Needing a chance to find out if things could go further than just living in his house.

Dating wasn’t a walk in the park for you either. Call it a hazard of military work. Computers and filing paperwork was more your speed than the guns and blood that König was accustomed to, but it still limited the amount of men who were interested. Especially in the long-term.

It really came down to the uniform and lack of free time that could be allotted to the guys that you did have the fortune to meet. They wanted to take you on dates, and your superiors preferred you stay late to take minutes for a meeting. They always suggested you take a vacation, since it was clear just how tired you were on a daily basis. But vacations were practically a laughable dream you knew wouldn’t come to fruition until you finally were sent the retirement packet everyone in the service dreamed of. But.. on the rare occasion, you did have the energy to entertain a man for a night. Just. One. Night.

Thankfully König was out.

Such good timing considering you’d spent nearly a week, taking your sweet time to wring orgasms out of yourself just for the sheer frustration of getting them, and still not feeling satisfied. Instinctively missing the warmth of skin on skin and the dynamic of having someone else provide and take pleasure from you. Even getting on the app had felt more like a shopping trip than a chance to go on a date. Looking through photos and bios with nothing more on your mind than someone big enough, and pretty enough to make the ordeal worth it. The guy who answered back to your painfully blatant request for a good fuck, didn’t ask any questions either. Just asked politely asked if you wanted to go to him, or vice versa and gave you ample time to get yourself ready before the knock on the front door.

Your mental ruined any chance of having a good time though.

The poor guy sucking at your neck and grunting soft praises was nice… but you couldn’t get into it. Feeling tense. Going through the motions. Foreplay becoming an act of forced moans to reassure the guy genuinely trying to make you feel good, and unable to even make eye contact for a slightly guilty feeling that pervaded your thoughts. Hell, you even refused to have missionary, just to make sure that your facial expressions didn’t have to constantly match the fake whimpers and whines.

John… Joe… Jacob… whatever his name was, he was honestly a sweet guy. Giving your clit attention, no just shoving his cock in you without prep, and actively checking in without making it overbearing. On another day, you’d have really been trying harder to impress him. Give the impression that you were interested in him for more than the sex you couldn’t surrender to. Hope that he liked you enough to stick around. But deep down, you thought better of it. Withholding your feelings to ensure that when he left you alone for the night, that you wouldn’t hate yourself.

König, on the other hand, came home a bit earlier than expected. Walking in the door quietly to expect a silent house, and you sleeping in your bed or on the couch after waiting up for him. Only to be stunned with wet, skin slapping and familiar, pathetic, whimpers getting overrun by deep grunts and low, almost whispered sounds from a man.

God… you were getting fucked.

His whole chest tightened in embarrassment and his face felt hot. You’d never been quite this comfortable… at least to his knowledge. Plenty of nights he had overheard the faint sounds of you getting off alone… soft little moans and gentle hums of a vibrator filtering down the hallway to him. But he’d never heard anything quite that… loud. Even when you fucked yourself on a dildo -he’d always been too curious not to listen intently- the slick sounds of your cunt always made louder noise than your voice. As mortified as he was hearing it… part of him knew something was wrong. Like his whole body was stiff, realizing that you weren’t enjoying it. Faking it… for some unknown reason.

Why couldn’t you say something? Surely you could ask him to… to do something different right? To let you use a toy? Or… or touch your clit? Whatever it took to help you enjoy yourself. But those pinched, almost broken moans starting grating on him within seconds. Stalking towards your bedroom door quietly, and leaning against the wall. Eyes closed and his breath getting heavier with each imagined scene in his head that developed. Picturing him doing all the wrong things… Touching you… tasting you… and living out his own pleasure without the slightest idea that every sound out of your mouth was a fucking lie.

König’s jaw clenched. Resisting a sudden desire to bang on the door or make some other loud noise that would bring this all to an end. Even his fist clenched at his side flinched towards the bedroom door, as if he was insane enough to actually bust in.

What would he even do?

The question rang out a bit too harshly in his mind.

He didn’t have the first idea how to… do better. To make you feel good, or any woman really. Plenty of jealousy rose in his throat at the thought of that bastard fucking you, but he hadn’t even touched a pussy in years. And the last time he did it, he was, pathetically inexperienced. Using his huge fingers to try and prep his partner, but not hitting any of the right spots. Accidentally taking a clinical approach, and it left him feeling like a damn gynecologist instead of a good fuck.

He couldn’t please you, no matter how much he wanted to…

The sobering thought forced him to back away from your bedroom door. But pride alone forced him into the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a glass of scotch in his hand. The last -and unavoidable- line of defense before the front door. No doubt in his mind that if nothing else, he’d get a good look at the man you’d brought home for a disappointing night of sex. Wanting to at least humiliate the bastard for a few seconds. Because while he knew himself to not be an acceptable partner, the guy currently riding out his high in your bedroom wasn’t going to know it. And seeing him -in his daily fatigues- and his hood, would give any man a moment of pause.

You felt sticky. Hot. And more than a little achy in all the wrong ways as Jeff… Josh… whoever the fuck he was, removed himself form your bed and began pulling on his jeans. Watching cautiously as he excused himself into your bathroom -sweetly- offering you a wet washcloth and a too-shy smile for a man who’d just come all over your stomach.

You didn’t bother putting on pants to walk him out to the front door. Too disappointed and stuck in your own head to see König standing in the corner of the kitchen. His dark eyes glaring daggers at your… ‘guest’ who was much more observant, and stood stock still. Shirt in his hands, and forced to raise his gaze more than normal to get the best look at the terrifying man looming in the shadows. It took you far longer than it should’ve. To trace Jonah… Josiah’s… gaze, and recognize your roommate. And even longer to remember that you weren’t wearing pants.

“Hey man…”

You had to give what’s-his-name credit for being as casual as he sounded. Because in all honesty, you were just as taken aback. Shuffling to stand behind the guy just enough that your bare pussy and ass weren’t totally out for him to see.

“Evening…” König sounded… bored? Not his normal tone. “Heading out already?” The guy you were using as a shield, just nodded his head. Looking a bit apologetic, but still anxious.

“Yeah, man…” He pulled his head over his shirt, patting his pockets for the jingle of car keys before glancing back at you with an truly apologetic smile, and a clear unpreparedness for the situation. “I… uh…. thanks for… letting me come over…”

You can’t manage more than a nod. No smile, no reassuring touch to him… nothing. Just a silent acknowledgment and the subsequent scamper over to the couch to grab a blanket to cover yourself up.

Shit… König fucking waved bye…

He didn’t expect you to come out. Nor to get his first-ever look at your pussy. And god it’d taken a lot of restraint not to just stare at you and memorize what he could get get a look at. You just looked soft. So fucking small and soft… A slight sheen of sweat on your face and the roots of your hair damp from the erotic affair.

Too bad it was all an act.

“Thanks for letting him come, huh?” He can’t resist… the guy just hadn’t been cautious enough to not fuel the fire of jealously in him.

Seeing you wrap that blanket around you tighter, avoiding all eye contact, and even turning your side to him a bit… it makes him smile under his hood. An amused one. A sickeningly happy sort of feeling rising in his gut where you appear vulnerable under his gaze. You’re already much more expressive just talking to him than you’d sounded with that bastards cock inside you.

“Didn’t think you’d be back for a while…” Your valid excuse falls a bit flat, especially when those dark brown eyes scan your entire body. He lifts his tumbler of scotch under his hood, nodding before taking a long drink. Feeling a secondary burn that soothes the heat building everywhere else in him.

“I can see that…” He chuckles lowly. To him, it sounds unsure… and maybe tinged with anger, jealously. But on your face, he’s clear that you don’t recognize it. Far too embarrassed to see that there’s just as much uncertainty flooding him as well. “Could hear it too…”

He literally sees your shoulders sink. The wave of embarrassment. Part of him loves it. Knowing you’re experiencing some of the same things he is. That you to, know what it’s like to leave a bed feeling like things didn’t go right, and there’s a guilt that hardens like sediment in your gut. Yet the other half, resists pushing harder. Using this same, defensive, and chastising tone. To give you just a bit of respite, because, he’s not really mad… he’s just fuming with jealously.

“If I knew… I wouldn’t have…” You can’t manage much more. Both of you knowing damn well this wouldn’t have happened if you knew what his arrival was going to be. You always kept so good to his schedules… and not just because this was his house. But because you were so genuinely sweet around him.

“Been so loud?” He suggests, downing the last gulp of his scotch and pushing away from the counter. “Speaking of that…” His gaze lingers on your throat… those faked moans echoing in his mind.

“I didn’t know it was common practice for women to walk their fucktoys to the door… especially when he doesn’t make you come.”

If your stomach was twisting before, there wasn’t a doubt now. And god… you couldn’t tell if it was that he was home, or his voice, or just the edged-feeling of your aching pussy; but König was making you squirm. More than he’d ever done before… and you’d gotten yourself off to the thought of him plenty of times before when no other fantasy had done the trick.

“I finished.” You defend, tightening the blanket around your waist and tucking your bare feet under the excess material pooling on the floor.

König’s eyes blacken, and he laughs lowly. It’s the closest you’ve seen to his behavior when he’s interrogating someone. His power of knowing all the right answers and just dangling the freedom to lie right in front of your face. Maddening, to say the least. And enough to make your thighs flex together.

“I’d like to believe you…” he begins, making leisurely steps closer. “Yet, I’ve spent more nights than I care to admit hearing you come… and what I just hear… is nothing close to the real thing.”

“It’s different with—when it’s not just me.” You gape at him, trying to find anger at the audacity.

Searching for something other than a feeling of arousal knowing that despite your muffled cries into pillows, he’d still heard you at night. Still listened, and if nothing else, knew what your true pleasure sounded like to call you on bullshit. He shrugs, massive hands resting on his hips. Watching them sway a little as he keeps getting closer. Testing the boundary lines you no doubt had. Pushing and prodding at weak spots, and wondering if he can set foot on the living room rug you stood at the center of.

“Different, huh?” The fake acceptance doesn’t last long. “So if I asked for proof… you’d have it?”

“Proof?” You choke out. “What kind of proof could I even give you?” There are plenty running around in your head, all of them raunchier than the previous. But you’re almost desperate to hear him say it.

“Sweetheart, you’ve got the wettest fucking cunt I’ve ever heard,” He growls softly. “You never finish yourself off without making the slickest goddamn noises. Can hear it from down the hallway like it’s playing off my phone.” He adds, voice getting gritty, eyes lowering towards your hips and back up.

“Show me, that is… if he really did make you come.”

Air in your lungs evaporates. God it’s criminal how fucking lewd anything could sound coming from his mouth. And your dry pussy is pathetically getting wetter by the second. Fluttering muscles twitching with each filthy admission he makes. You’re already resorting to putting pressure against your clit by flexing your legs, trying to deny the feelings. Excusing it all by the still-lingering desire for release and not König. Not moving, and a miserable lack of a response forces him to approach faster. Stepping onto the rug serving as a mental barrier for you.

“Embarrassed?” He asks, head tilting a little and stretching the hood to pull away from his chest a little. Putting a bit more of his chest on display in that tight t-shirt.

You shake your head defiantly.

“Oh? Okay then… you should be able to show me then, right? Pretty girl like you, wanting to get fucked… Should be more than willing to brag that you got satisfied. That he left you satiated…”

Your face burns. Debating how to answer. If it’s even smart to try and test your voice in the first place.

“Nothing to see… got-got cleaned up…” God the miserable truth that your no-name partner’s cum was the only thing needing cleaned off of you hits like a punch to the gut.

A massive hand grabs at the blanket in your grip stops all possibility of lying anymore. A warning. Gentle, for sure and meant to be just a small test of consent. However, you too far into this to not want more. He’s just hitting all the right buttons, whether he means to or not.

“How about I… check for myself?” He asks lowly, free hand -covered in a glove- sliding up under his hood and returning into sight with the achingly sexy sight of a huge, scarred hand. His meaning isn’t lost on you, and it’s almost like your cunt floods in anticipation.

“Slide my hand between your pretty thighs, and see just how good he treated you…” He murmurs, trailing fingers down the two sides of the blanket pulled together. “Let me see if that pussy is fucking drenched like she deserves to be.”

“König.” You warn softly, eyes darting down to his hand and back to his eyes.

Not the slightest bit worried about him touching you. Not at all. But about what would happen after all the tension faded. What would come of your relationship if you fucked… or, just made things complicated in general.And he pauses, looking to you a bit cooler. His breathing still heavy, and laden with emotion.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

You’re desperate to think of a way to explain yourself, but the most basic, stupid, comment comes out of your mouth.

“I don’t want this to end badly.”

He straightens just a bit. But his hands don’t move. And while from your perspective, it seems he’s hesitating on whether or not to continue, that’s not what’s got him stuck mere inches away from slipping his fingers between your folds.

He’s worried you know. That you’ve caught on to his inexperience, and are merely defending yourself from a second bad experience in one night. And god it makes this throat burn. Desperate to defend himself and prove that while -yes- he’s more than a little bit lost when it comes to the manual process, he’s still going to be the most teachable fucking man you’ve ever met.

“I’ll listen so well…” He eventually mutters, stepping just a bit closer. Voice lowering and a hint of desperation entering it. “Can—can give you everything you want… Just need to tell me…” he adds, unable to look you in the eyes.

It’s not exactly what you were expecting to hear, but it still strokes that burn between your thighs. Especially when his hands grip your hips through the blanket wrapped around you. Groping softly, massaging at the fat over your muscles and feeling hungry just to touch you.

“I… I don’t want things to be awkward afterwards.” You try to reexplain. Hoping the clarification will help him see why you hadn’t already leaned into his commanding touch.

“Awkward,” he repeats, as if it’s a foreign idea. Like it’d never crossed his mind. “Don’t plan on ignoring you anymore… Not—Not after hearing that… and knowing… fuck…”

“He couldn’t have listened… please tell me you tried to tell him what to do… what you wanted,” His rambles get more panicked. Like every thought in his head is equally important and he can’t take the time to pick one and let me even answer. “Should’ve asked what your pussy needed… how to make you feel good… make those pretty sounds..”

You’re half dazed just watching his breathy words fan the material of his hood to react to his boot kicking your feet apart. Wide hand sliding between your thighs and groaning. A deep, guttural sound that reminds of him being winded. And really… he probably should be. Because your inner thighs are dry to the touch. The wetness he’d been creating still not enough to make much fuss over. But he’s not satisfied with that alone. Immediately curling a finger to spread your lips, feeling the thick, slick of new arousal that had been nothing, if not his doing.

“Ohh, you poor baby…” He sighs lowly, head rolling back at the mere sensation of your pussy under his fingertips. Feeling you a bit anxiously, yet getting a buzz in the back of his skull when your hole pulses against his prodding touch. “Left you so fucking hot…”

It’s a fast movement but he’s got you off your feet and dropped down onto the couch in one swift move. Your back arched in the slumped position and the blanket that’d been covering your -pathetic- modesty, fluttered open on both sides of your hips. Leaving your core exposed to his hungry and heavy-lidded eyes. Letting out a little whine of a sound when he slowly drops to a knee; tracing his hands down your inner thighs like he was scared of touching you too harshly.

“König, please…” You gasp out, watching his thumb run over your swollen labias. Pinching your fat lips together softly and inadvertently putting delicious pressure on your swollen clit. He curses under his breath, free hand grabbing your thigh with bruising strength.

“Tell me how to please you,” He commands, eyes flashing dangerously wide in the icy moonlight streaming through the living room windows. “I need to make you come.”

His desperate, and knows you can see it. His whole body shakes seeing your flushed pussy a mere foot away from his face, and nothing but opportunity and his hood preventing him from burying his face in it. Watching as you shyly reach for his wrist, guiding his hand where you want it. Extending his fingers and whimpering when your motion for him to rub small circles over your clit sends those to-intense waves of pleasure through your pussy.

“Like that… just like that…” You’re able to praise with a shaky nod of your head.

Rocking your hips in tandem with his movements and nearly crying out in relief when he diligently keeps the same pressure to you despite your little twitches and grinds. Allowing you the freedom to plant your feet on the edge of the couch and simply feel. König’s lost in it. Lost in the sight of you. Your pretty mouth gaping open and your hips chasing the touch he’s providing. His breath catching when you cry out or give a weak praise for his work. Like you’re enjoyingwhat he’s doing.

But god he’s happy to stay right where you want him, how you want him. Feeling his knee dig into the harsh floorboards, and ignoring it with a refreshed feeling of duty he’d long lost as a soldier. Never had he been given such a pretty fucking prize to work for. Nothing as sweet as seeing your cunt drip from his rough fingers rubbing soft, almost too-soft circles over it. Not even realizing that he’d spent almost fifteen minutes just rubbing your clit lazily when your hand reaches back down. Happy to direct him yet again, especially when he doesn’t even need a verbal direction to do exactly what you want.

“Fingers,” You whisper through panting exhales. “Give me your fingers…”

Your little hand grabs his pointer and middle fingers, spreading your own slick over them like a goddamn professional before guiding him down to your aching hole. Letting go just long enough to feel the thick digits press though that first little ring of tightened muscle. Forcing your eyes open to witness his mostly-hidden expression as he sinks knuckle deep inside of you.

“So fucking pretty,” His head shakes a little, lost in the creamy slick gathering at the base of his fingers as he curls him up towards your pelvis just a little. Subconsciously scared to do the wrong thing, but desperate to keep your cunt flex and mold to his touch. “Tell me, sweetheart… show me what she needs.”

You’re too possessed to chase your high to not listen. Readjusting your bent legs on the couch to gently lift your hips and sink them back down. Slowly getting used to the feeling of his thick fingers, already deeper than your no-name partner. Groaning when they bump into your g-spot just hard enough to make your clit burn. Grinding against his hand and keeping one hand wrapped around his wrist just to try and ground yourself to the present situation. Lost in the rhythm of fucking yourself -quite literally- stupid within mere minutes. Beginning to hear that vulgar, sucking sound of your pussy gripping his fingers and utterly drooling over his palms.

König’s helpless to so more than sing your praise. “That’s a good girl… so good for me. Using me like a fucking toy.”

It’s the best he’s felt in a long time. Watching you take from him. Too absorbed to even think about anything other than yourself. Not in enough control to even worry about the true moans and yelps escaping you. Real pleasure wracking your body and burning every nerve ending.

“More… please more…” You cry softly, hips slowing to a painfully sexy grind as you squeeze the tendons in his wrist with your thumb.

König takes a little more initiative than he’s normally comfortably using, but adds a third finger. Slowly pumping them in and out, little by little, to help you adjust. Watching as your eyebrows pinch together in focus. A low growl rumbles in his chest, his mouth practically watering as your cunt sucks him in.

“Let me taste it, baby…” He huffs, head flinching forwards before backing off, repeating the action a couple more times. “Wanna help… just—just let me taste you…”

You clench around his fingers when he rests his cheek against your inner thigh. Big, wide eyes pleading with you so innocently like he isn’t stretching your hole wider than the biggest of your toys can with nothing but a few fingers. Forcing you to slow the roll of your hips, a shaky hand reaching out to cup his face through the mask. Rubbing a thumb over his hidden cheekbone with a little whimpered hum. Pulling his head closer to you, hissing when the hem of his hood merely grazes your clit.

“How’d you want it?” He asks, head down and pulling his mask up so you’re stuck. Forced to merely feel his mouth so close to you, and not see the shape of his mouth.

“Lick-lick my clit… s-soft…” You whine, eye shutting when the hot fan of his exhale his your fevered skin.

Holding his head steady with one hand, you almost coming up off the couch when his tongue makes one, long, lazy, lap between your folds. Gripping at the material of his hood just tight enough that he ends up ripping the whole thing off. Tossing it to the floor with an aggressive snarl that rumbles against your clit. Sparks of pleasure forcing your thighs apart and jerking your hips back up. Chasing his mouth. The rough texture of his tongue, and the slight graze of his teeth against your slicked folds.

Your orgasm approaches fast from there. Between his fingertips stroking you deep, and the new rhythm of his tongue lapping your slick up to massage your clit, it’s hard to even warn König that he can’t stop for risk of ruining your long-awaited release.

“König… K… oh… fuucckk…”

Your back arches tightly, both hands grabbing harshly at his hair with an unintelligible shout as you come. Jerking wildly and one of your feet losing it’s hold on the edge of the couch. Trying to fight through the shocks of pleasure, and groaning curses with a hoarse throat. Feeling König’s free hand latch onto your thigh to keep you from running away too far from his still-working lips and tongue. Sucking up the wet drips of release trying to drip down his hand.

“Slow, slow down.” You whimper, pushing at his forehead just a little. The pressure too much. The stretch of his fingers still satisfying but overstimulating.

Your so fucking grateful that he doesn’t fight you on it, or force you to try for another. And maybe it’s just the mere sight of you. abdominal muscles twitching, forcing your upper body to do baby-curls with each flex of your pulsing cunt. Toes curled and an all-over buzzing sensation making it hard to even make sense of where your limbs are in relation to the rest of your body, much less König or the couch your hardly laying on.

“You okay, sweetheart?” His softened voice almost gives you emotional whiplash, especially when he bends over you forehead resting against yours softly.

Gently removing his fingers with murmured apologies when your little winces mar your pretty features. Both hands sliding up your sides to help lift you back onto the couch, moving to sit himself next to you just long enough to reposition your body on his lap. Pulling that blanket back over your bottom half and maneuvering your cold, tingling feet between his thighs like he can tell they’re freezing. He presses soft kisses all over your forehead and nose. Rocking you softly and squeezing at the muscles in the back of your neck reassuringly.

“You needed that… needed to feel good…” he murmurs almost lovingly.

You nod dumbly, laying your head against his shoulder. Letting out soft nearly unconscious whimpers and a soft repetition of his name in cum-drunk appreciation.

“Told you I could listen… could be good for you,” He adds, almost like he’s reassuring himself of the idea. “Wanted to be better than him. Needed to prove it.”

He holds up your weighty head, stabilizing it with care and a sickeningly sweet look of devotion in his eyes.

“You’re never going to fake it again, sweetheart.”

reblogs & comments are always appreciated <3

[popquizhot-shot]

EVERYTHING IS FINE- Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

this is it. angsty asf. bittersweet ending it’s sad people. tw: infidelity. based on my most recent post. please comment i’m literally begging you and tell me how you like it<3

Part 2

In the depths of your heart, you already know. Your Miguel is not yours anymore.

You remember the stolen glances between him and Dana where you pretended not to notice the palpable tension between the three of you amidst the throng of about ten other people in the house.

It was a nice dinner that you’d planned, after spending almost a week away because of your actual job as well as your little side gig that was being a part of spider society.

But fifteen minutes into the little shin-dig and you get a call from none other than your boss. Not the nice one who showed you the ropes when you first joined and provided you with hours of mentorship. The bitch that was a variant of your husband was currently floating above your watch as you glared at him in the bathroom.

“We need you.”

“Not today.”

“It’s an emergency.”

“It’s always an emergency.” you roll your eyes.

“Look this was unplanned, you think my life’s aim is to torment you?”

“Kind of.” you nod and he groans, “Give me twenty minutes.”

——

At the end of twenty minutes, you storm out of your house as quietly as you can, yes it’s an oxymoron but you’re pissed off.

At Miguel, at your husband, at yourself.

Your mother always said that you were one to pity yourself, even when every bad thing that happened was the result of your own actions. All your life you’ve disagreed, but now you think that maybe your mother was probably right.

None of this would have happened if you’d just said no. No to Dana making her way into your marriage to her guy best friend and co-worker.No to the variant of him with fangs and red eyes and No to your own urge of fucking things up because you wanted to see what happened. If maybe what your heart felt was wrong. That there was nothing wrong with you and Miguel, that he still loved you.

You let out a shaky breath and open a portal from an alleyway behind your apartment building. The purple hue reflects onto your face. No, you weren’t a spider. Just a traveller that stumped your boss and changed his perception of everything he knew about the multiverse.

The man himself nodded at you as you stepped onto the platform he was standing on, looking back to the holo of what looked like a rogue Doc Ock, Goblin and another Spiderman.

“What, now we have evil spidermen? Isn’t that breaking the canon?” you raise an eyebrow.

“That’s the thing. There’s no canon event broken. He was meant to be a villain. Yet, I’ve never heard of him, or of this universe.”

You look at him like he’s just told you that he used to be a stripper in college and all his money came from his side-gig, “I’m sorry, what? The all powerful Miguel O’Hara with the pixel suit doesn’t know of the existence of a universe?”

“You’re being real helpful right now.” he grumbles.

“Thank you, I knew you’d appreciate the help.”

——

The house is quiet when you walk in, evidently everyone has left. The kitchen has been cleaned and the lights are off.

He’d always been your biggest supporter. Always so humble even though he had a high position and a fat paycheck, always telling you to let him help you. Doing some of your work for you when you were busy.

The bedroom door creaked a little as you enter, the sound of your loves breathing makes you crack a small smile. His hulking figure curled up and moving up and down. His face slack.

God he was so beautiful.

You shed your clothes and go through your night routine as fast as you can. Brushing your teeth and scrubbing your face. Cursing the pimples that always make their way onto your forehead at the wrong time.

The mattress squeaks as you get on, slowly wrapping your hands around his body. He stirs and looks up at you, his eyes softening. He’d been drinking, you can tell. He hasn’t looked at you like this for a while.

“Hi.” his hands cup your face and you smile softly as you kiss his rough palm. Your own covering his.

“Sorry I disturbed you. Thank you for cleaning up.” your hands mirror his actions, thumbs caressing his cheekbones.

He answers you with a soft kiss. And then another. And his hands are travelling down to pull you to him. Engulfing you as he hides his face in the crook of your neck. Your hands move to play with his hair as he drifted back to sleep.

You close your eyes and pretend that everything is fine. That the lipstick stain on his shirt in the laundry basket wasn’t the same as Dana’s.

———

“Are you fucking dumb?” O’Hara seethes, as he disinfects the gash at the bottom of your neck.

“It’s just a graze, i’m fine.” you grumble, “it’s not like anyone’s gonna care if i die.”

“No, just shut your mouth. Stop talking like you’re some martyr. There are plenty of people here who would miss you.”

“Miguel, let’s not get ahead of ourselves here.” you chuckle, “i get it-

“No, you don’t. actually, you don’t get it. the woman i loved died, and she’s gone and i’d do anything to have her back, and you’re so convinced that if you died your own fucking husband wouldn’t want to die too? Stop acting like you’re expendable.” his eyes glow and yours widen, “This may come as a surprise to you, but people care.”

You gulp, “Sorry.”

He grumbles under his breath as he sprays the wound with bacta so it heals faster. Apologising when you wince.

You look at his concentrated face that is focused on wrapping the bandage around your shoulder and the bottom of your neck. His face is mere inches from yours. He is the splitting image of your husband, save from the red eyes and fangs. But this close you can see the differences, his eyebrows are a tad thicker and his ears are smaller.

He is harder and his words are sharp. Your love is soft and quiet. Mean when he has to be, but kinder. More open.

More loving. Yes. He’s more loving and he loves you.

You look away and focus on the ceiling. You don’t see his eyes watching your face. Eyes filled with sadness and want.

——

“Dana, here. Have some tea.” you pour a cup for the woman sitting next to Miguel at the table. At your spot.

Is it toxic to think that maybe you want her to choke on her tea?

She’d started to carpool with Miguel a few months ago , seeing as they worked together and were on the same team, it was more efficient and made more sense.

You didn’t want to seem like a toxic wife so you nodded and agreed, because you were secure in your relationship with your husband.

“Thank you.” she says your name with a wide smile as she sips the tea, “Amazing, as always.”

“I know right, she makes amazing tea.” he smiles at her and raises an eyebrow. Dana snorts.

You look between the pair trying to hide their smiles, “Did I miss something?” an awkward smile makes its way onto your face.

“Inside joke, you wouldn’t get it. It’s a scientist thing. I don’t think your writer brain could handle it.” Dana waves you away as if you’re a fucking waiter and you bristle.

But what drives it home is that Miguel laughs out loud when she says that. His hair flops onto his forehead and Dana fixes it for him, her hands running through this hair.

You fight the urge to break a plate on her head but you know it’ll be fruitless. Because your husband will take her side.

Maybe you’re just being dramatic. Maybe the tears you’re trying to hide as you make breakfast are unwarranted and you can’t take a joke.

Everything is fine.

You call out to them from the kitchen, telling them you’re going to be late and his voice is brighter when he says, “Okay, honey.”

—————

“You okay?”

“I’m fine, boss.”

“You look dead.”

“Your eyes bags suggest the same.”

“You’re hilarious.” O’Hara smirks

“Thank you.” you take a sip of the beer he’d passed.

It was late, far past dinner time. And the both of you had taken time to go over the record of what anomalies were most common and key weaknesses in most villains.

“But seriously, are you okay?”

You gulp, “Tell me about your wife. Please.”

He blanches, and then looks at the tears welling up in your eyes.

“Well, where to begin?” he turns to face you, “She…was a writer, she had her own business. She loved sunflowers because they faced each other when the sun wasn’t in the sky.” he smiles sadly, “she was terrified of frogs and dead fish. And she hated onions. The pickiest fucking eater.” he shakes his head and chuckles.

“She sounds sweet.” you know she was variant of you, Miguel had shown you the web of life and in every universe there was version of you that made their way into his life. It was beautiful, honestly.

“She had short hair, and her smile. God, it could make anyone’s day better.” he rested his head on his hand and looked at the hologram shining in front of the both of you.

“She sounds like a dream.” you reply.

“She was.” he nods.

“Hey would you mind bringing up a live of my house?” you ask.

“Why?”

“Humour me, will you?”

He grumbles and a hologram showing your universe pops up, on the screen is your living room. And Miguel freezes when he sees the scene before him.

He sees himself kiss Dana. The version of him who is married, is kissing his co-worker. He’s taking her in his arms and nuzzling her nose. He’s pecking her cheeks and tickling her like she’s his wife.

Like he’s in love with her.

“I love you.” his voice echoes throughout the room. And Dana says it back.

His head whips to look at you. You don’t look surprised, rather, you look defeated. You breathe out like it’s a finality. Your beautiful beautiful eyes transfixed on offending scene in front of you.

Before anything else happens, he shuts it off. Immediately turning to look at your frozen form, “Hey, you with me?”

You shake your head and smile. Eyes still fixed onto where the hologram was, “I’m fine.” Tears fall down your cheeks as your mouth quivers, “I’m okay. Everyday he comes back around this time. And they carpool. I told him I’d be late today. Just after I made them tea and they laughed at an inside joke amongst themselves.”

His eyes widens, “Oh honey.” his moves to hug you and you let out an ugly sob, “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“I knew it.” you say into his chest, “I’m so fucking stupid.”

His hand pats your back, “You’re not stupid.”

“I mean, I know i was busy, i know i wasnt always home. But I tried, i fucking tried. WHAT IS SO WRONG WITB ME?” the dam breaks and you let out a wrecked shout of agony that breaks his heart into two, “Why wasn’t I good enough?!” your body shakes violently.

“No.” he says firmly, taking your face in his hands, almost squeezing your cheeks and forcing you to looking at him, your hands fly to cover his, “ You are good enough. You are enough. Listen to me. That fucking idiot doesn’t know who he just lost.”

“But-But if i wasnt so busy-

“If he had a problem, he should’ve told you. He’s a fucking pussy.”

Your words are silenced when he shakes you once, hands still holding your cheeks, “You are the most perfect person. And the both of them will pay. I promise that, cariño.”

His arms wrap around you to engulf you as you hide your face in the crook of his neck, rapid breaths slowing. His pulse beats and you can feel the vibrations on your own skin.

You close your eyes and pretend everything is fine. Because you’re in his arms.

[ganjas-shit]

Oh, You’re Breaking My Heart

Warnings: 18+ content, dry humping?, sexual language, cursing, angst, inexperienced reader, virgin reader.

Authors note: Hi everyone! Sorry it took so long for the update I was studying for exams and what not but I hope you guys enjoy sorry if it seems a little rushed this is my first series so I’m slowly learning! Feel free to inbox me for whatever! <3 this was also a little Lana inspired I just love her so much and I feel like her music matches Billy’s vibe so well.

Chapter 3: Just Ride.

⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩

He gradually emerged from the depths of unconsciousness, his senses assaulted by the incessant beeping of machines, the sterile brightness of the overhead lights, and the icy tendrils of cold air wrapping around him. With a heavy groan, he blinked his eyes open, adjusting to the unfamiliar surroundings.

A strong smell of disinfectant lingered in the air.

The hospital?

As he tried to rise, a sharp twinge from his lower ribs forced a hiss of pain from his lips, halting his movement abruptly. And a strong pounding in his head distracted him from moving any further.

"Hey, Billy, I'm Nurse Janet," a woman in pink scrubs greeted him. "How are you feeling? Any discomfort?"

Is she blind?

"Fuck yeah, my head's killing me, and I can't sit up," Billy muttered bluntly, causing the older woman to cringe at his choice of language.

Billy shut his eyes against the glare of the lights and massaged his temples, trying to dull the throbbing pain in his head.

“You have a concussion and a few broken ribs, can you recall what happened tonight?” She asked.

Yeah, Neil really fucked up.

"Not really, no," he lied. Despite his hatred for his father, a small part of him still felt the need to protect him. The nurse looked at him sympathetically. "The doctor will be here shortly. For now, just try to relax," she said, giving him a warm smile before exiting the room.

You’re gonna be okay.

He remembered hearing a voice, he was probably hallucinating but the voice was sweet, soft, and comforting. Maybe it was his guardian angel, but he wasn't about to confess that to the nurses; they'd likely send him in for a psych evaluation.

Bits and pieces of tonight's events flashed through his mind. He recalled finally standing up to Neil, but his memory of the confrontation was hazy at best. All he can hear echoing back and fourth in his head was the fear in max’s voice.

“Get off of him!”

His gut churned at the thought, for he had once experienced that same fear when it was his mother at the mercy of Neil's hands.

Guilt consumed him once again, he looked up at the ceiling tears pricking the inner corner of his blue eyes.

God, what an aggravating feeling.

He was exhausted from the weight of guilt, he was tired of feeling. Maybe if his mom would’ve took him with her, maybe if he stayed in California, maybe he would be different.

Maybe.

The door of his hospital room opened, creaking slightly. A man in a white coat, presumably his doctor, entered, accompanied by two police officers.

Billy felt a slight panic, although he hadn't done anything wrong. His heart rate started to pick up through the monitors.

"Billy, it's all right. This is Chief Jim Hopper," the doctor reassured, motioning towards the tall man. "He's one of the best officers I know and he wants to talk about tonight,”

"Hey kid, I’m J—" Billy cut him off before he could finish, "I know who you are. I have a concussion, not a mental impairment," he snapped defensively. "You can't speak to me unless an adult is present."

Jim swallowed back whatever sarcastic remark was about to spill out of him and took a deep breath,

"You're 18, kid. I'm allowed to speak to you. I just wanted to ask you a few questions," Jim sighed carefully, hoping to gain the boy's trust with his measured tone.

The doctor left the room allowing them space to talk.

“Had some really rough sex, mind was hazy after it and I ran into a door” Billy spat, blatantly lying through his teeth. It was a terrible lie but it was the first thing that came to his brain, his concussion was preventing him from coming up with a better one.

Jim let out a chuckle, his amusement evident, while the other officer couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Running into a door isn't going to give you a grade two concussion and broken ribs," he remarked, with a tone that conveyed both skepticism and exasperation at Billy's attempt to deceive them.

"It was a really hard door," Billy retorted, annoyance creeping into his voice at the one going conversation. “And it was really rough sex, you’d think I was killing her with the noises she was making but I promise, she was enjoying every inch of me,” Billy’s said voice dripping with arrogance.

Jim and officer Callahan exchanged a glance before returning their attention to him.

"Just ask my neighbor; she had front-row seats. She'll tell you," Billy said, his voice smug with confidence.

Although Jim felt for the boy, his patience was wearing thin. "Oh, you mean Y/N? Yeah, she's right outside with your sister, scared half to death. I heard she was screaming at the nurses to be careful with you. Poor girl almost lost her mind seeing you like this," Jim said, his tone tinged with slight frustration.

"She's the one who brought you here, you know. You were knocked out cold in her embrace," Jim said, studying the way Billy's features fell.

His smug expression vanished instantly, replaced by guilt. But he quickly scoffed, putting up his usual dickhead facade to cover it up.

“Listen, kid, we already got statements from your stepmother and your sister. I know your father’s been putting his hands on you for years. We need to know if you have any idea where he might be,” he said with a serious tone.

“You’re arresting him!?” Billy asked in disbelief,

"Should we not?" Officer Callahan said, more as a statement than a question.

Billy looked down at his bruised hands, the same ones that collided with his father's face a little while ago, and started to contemplate life without Neil, life without another parent. He could no longer maintain his facade, he’s felt too much, been through too much, it was cracking. The lonely little boy he’d been his whole life was slipping through the cracks.

"I'll have no one," Billy said, a knot forming in his throat, the weight of loneliness settling heavily upon him.

Jim walked over to the side of his bed and kneeled, “You have three women in that waiting room worried sick about you, I know two of those women personally and they are fighters, they love with every fiber in their body,” Jim said looking at the California boy who reminded him of himself at his age.

He knew you? And max? Surely he wasn’t talking about Susan.

"You have them, and you have me whenever you need it, kid... you just need to try," Jim added, encouraging Billy to lean on their support and make an effort to move forward.

Billy hardly knew you. But the glances, seeing you every morning, watching you in the halls at school, you watching him, he felt a strong pull from you, excitement, a connection, one that scared him. This feeling, this thing was only something he’d see in cheesy movies, shitty romcoms.

“He might be somewhere in the city, but he’ll be back. He’s not leaving without his shit… or maybe he will, who knows.”

Jim nodded, stood up, and patted his shoulder. “We’ll be on the lookout. For now, I’ll have an officer parked outside your house just in case he comes back.”

.

Hop exited the room and headed towards you and Max. Susan left to lock up both your house and hers, since you both forgot to do so earlier, given the circumstances

"He's a smart ass," Hop muttered. "But he's going to be okay physically. He might need a little time to adjust to what's going to happen from here on out, but he has you two, and I made it clear that he had me to talk to as well.

"Yeah, sounds like Billy," Max said, rolling her eyes. “Thanks Hop.” Despite it all, she felt content; her brother was going to be okay, even if it took time. With Neil out of the picture, she held onto hope—for Billy, for their relationship.

He was definitely shitty to her, but Billy did care for her, and she cared for him, at least a part of him. There were times when Neil and her mom argued, and Billy would offer her solace in his own way. He’d take her to the arcade, for burgers, but they never really talked. It was evident they struggled to bond with each other. He was angry that his father met Susan, which was the reason he left California; he blamed her and her mother. However, what Billy didn’t know was she resented him for that same reason.

Max thought that in California, they’d both be safe. She wouldn’t have to face the trauma of encountering interdimensional monsters or deal with Neil’s presence. She wouldn’t witness her mother losing herself to him, or observe Billy’s escalating anger day by day. It felt like everyone was losing themselves in that house. Neil was like Vecna, sucking the life out of people, but not swiftly—rather, in an agonizingly slow manner.

“Can we see him yet?” Max asked.

Hop nodded. “Yeah, I’ll catch up with you two later. I’ve got an asshole to catch.”

.

You and Max slowly entered the room, Billy was staring up at the ceiling lost in thought, his head snapped towards you two when he realized you both came in, he tried sitting up again but the pain he felt was a reminder of the condition he was in.

Max walked towards the front of his bed and you followed right behind her.

“Hey,” Max greeted slowly, “How are you feeling?” Billy looked at her with annoyance as if it wasn’t obvious, “Oh I’m just great Max, feeling like a million bucks,” he said sarcastically.

Max rolled her eyes huffing in annoyance.

“You know you should be thanking us, asshole, we’re the ones who practically carried your ass here,” you spat chiming in, “And you’re not exactly light.” Max added.

Billy’s features softened, and for the first time in a long time, he set his pride aside. “Thank you, Max… I’m sorry you had to see that,” Billy spoke, his voice filled with sympathy.

Your heart broke for them both. Max was such a compassionate soul, and despite whatever barrier Billy had built around his heart, he climbed out of it from time to time for her.

Max nodded and smiled. “I’m just glad you’re okay, shit head. You scared the shit out of me, out of us,” she said, looking over at you.

“It’s gonna take a lot more than Neil Hargrove to take me out,” he replied, his tone smug.

Billy then glanced at you, feeling his heart start to race. God, you were breathtaking. Despite the fatigue evident in your appearance, it only added to your beauty.

Max noticed the way you two looked at each other, and felt as if she was interrupting something.

“Yeah…” max trailed, “I’m gonna go get snacks from the food court, I’ll be back later.” And with that she left, leaving both you and him alone for the first time in what felt like a long time.

You looked at him the same way he looked at you—admiring his beauty, his tough exterior, which only made him more intriguing. Despite his bruised eye and cut lip, he remained mesmerizing. On the way to the hospital, in the back seat of his car, you gently brushed aside the single curls of hair that fell on his face, wishing you could do the same now.

Wait. Back seat of his car? Oh my god the backseat of his car!

You then twisted your face in disgust, “God!” You said in realization, “I sat in the back seat of your car, where you fucked Tina!

Billy struggled to contain his laughter, knowing that doing so would only increase his pain.

“You’re such an asshole!” you shouted angrily. “Ugh, I need to drown myself in disinfectant tonight, damn the consequences,” you huffed.

You glared at him, but a giggle escaped your lips when you noticed him wincing in pain. "Yeah, keep laughing, Hargrove. I'll be right here," you said as you pulled a chair next to his bed, "enjoying every ounce of pain that laughter gives you."

Billy rolls his eyes, the playfulness leaving them before being placed with seriousness.

“I, um,” Billy struggled to get the words out, “T-thank you for helping Max and getting me here.” Before you could respond, he continued, “A-and I’m sorry for being a dick. You didn’t deserve that. I was just…” He took a deep breath before continuing, “My dad, he’s an asshole. He seemed to like you, or at least acted like he did. He’s a damn narcissist, probably did it just to piss me off... Anyway, I lashed out and took it out on you and him. I guess I wanted to piss you both off.”

Billy kept taking deep breaths, you can tell he was struggling, like he wasn’t used to explaining himself or even apologizing. Before he could speak again, you placed your hand over his bruised one gently.

“Billy it’s okay, I understand. I have a pretty clear idea of what goes on in your house, what’s been going on with your father, I’ve been through it too once…” you sighed as his blue ocean eyes bore into your saddened expression, “My mom… she was a bully. She would strip me of my humanity with her words. I was a bitch for a while... I was like a exactly like her, God, I was so awful Billy,” you said as you looked at him through teary eyes, “So I understand.” Billy looked at you with love, understanding now why he felt so drawn to you. You reminded him of himself, but he saw the good within you—the good he hoped to find within himself. Even if it meant putting in the work to mend his heart, he was willing to do it. He needed to do it, for Max, Susan, and for himself. After all they were his only family.

You and Billy sat like that for a while, eventually ending up intertwining your hands. You felt flustered by him, despite him being in a hospital bed. Together, you shared laughs and occasional smiles, enjoying each other’s company. Max eventually came back munching loudly on her snacks, gagging at the two of you, irritating Billy with her sarcasm and with how loud she was chewing. You couldn’t help but laugh, realizing she’d gotten her sarcasm from him. You could get used to this and the warmth that spread through your body filled you with hope.

A few weeks later…

Hawkins Sheriff’s Department focused their efforts on finding Neil, especially since Hawkins was a small town and there seemed to be little else happening besides neighborhood complaints about trivial matters.

Neil returned a few days after Billy was released from the hospital. An undercover car, hidden on his street, swooped in and arrested him just before he could set foot on the porch. That night, you, Max, and Susan comforted Billy, reminding him that he still had a family.

Billy was introduced to the gang the following night to get his mind off things. You threw a little get together at your house. They were all wary, given their past interactions with him, especially Steve. Throughout the night, they exchanged glances. Billy felt sorry; he just couldn’t find the words for Steve. However, he grabbed him a beer, attempting to find some common ground, and Steve accepted. Surprisingly, he and Eddie clicked over their common taste in music. If Eddie could accept that Steve and he had become friends, there was room for one more. Meanwhile, Robin and Nancy chuckled at how smitten you and Billy were, teasing you both about it. Jonathan was cool about it like he was about everything, I think given everything that’s happened this year he had no room for judgments or criticism; he was over it and extremely high out of his mind.

Despite everything, Billy was healing emotionally. He had already recovered swiftly from the injuries he endured from his father, and now everything was slowly falling into place.

Now.

“Y/n let’s go! We’re losing light!” Billy screamed from the driver seat of his car repeatedly honking his door. You huffed loudly and slammed the front door of your house locking the door behind you, “I’m coming GOD!” You yelled back, stomping towards the passenger seat.

You threw your bag of sunscreen and spare clothes through the passenger window, not caring whether it hit him or not, and settled into the passenger seat of his car. You couldn’t stand when he rushed you; it was the most annoying thing. “Jesus, are you ever patient?” you asked rhetorically. Billy was about to respond with a sarcastic comment until he saw what you were wearing. You reminded him of California sometimes. You were wearing a red bikini top with nothing covering the rest of your body, and some blue denim shorts. He tried so hard to keep from lunging at you and devouring every bit of your body.

He’d been doing this for the past few weeks, and it was flustering you more and more each day. You remembered one time you did his laundry. He was gawking at you as you picked up his clothes that were scattered all over his room, making things easier for him since he couldn’t really move given his injuries. He thought you looked like a housewife, his housewife, and it aroused him profoundly.

He teased you about it, and he was very blunt about how he felt. It was infuriating because you actually enjoyed it.

Billy was glad he had planned today just for the two of you. The sun was shining brightly, and Lovers Lake seemed like the perfect place to cool off and relax. Recently, you two had only been around friends—Max, or Max and Susan. He hadn’t been able to spend time alone with you since that night.

After settling in and buckling up, you noticed the car still wasn’t moving. Glancing at Billy, you found him staring at you with an intense gaze, as if he was about to devour you. Your face flushed a deep red as you crossed your legs. “We’re losing light,” you mumbled, attempting to tease him, but you failed miserably. However, you successfully snapped him out of his trance. He licked his lips and chuckled, putting the car in drive and taking off.

You couldn’t help but stare either. Billy was wearing a muscle shirt, showcasing his buff arms, along with some swim shorts. His hair was styled perfectly, as usual, with a single curl falling onto his forehead against his beautiful tan skin. As he held a cigarette in his mouth and drove, butterflies fluttered in your belly.

Metallica blared through the radio as you two drove with the windows down, feeling the warm air on your skin. You closed your eyes and enjoyed the feeling, savoring the moment. It almost felt surreal that you were sitting in his car right now, like something out of one of your romance novels.

“Dammit!” Billy groaned in frustration. “Forgot my fucking lighter.” You rolled your eyes and assured him he’d survive a couple of hours without a lighter. With Billy’s frustration, you noticed the vehicle starting to accelerate more, getting faster and faster. Your belly started to jump with the increasing speed, and you couldn’t help but giggle.

Adrenaline pumped through your veins as Billy’s car felt like a roller coaster. He looked over at you with admiration, recognizing that same feeling, prompting him to go faster on the empty road. You stuck your body out the window, relishing the speed of the car and the harsh wind hitting your face. You felt free, out of this world free. Not a care in the world, just you and a beautiful boy speeding down a ghost town, or rather, a hell town, you might say.

“Fuck you, Hawkins!” you screamed, with Billy joining you in whooping with excitement at the top of his lungs.

You sat back in your seat and looked over to Billy, who was smiling with his foot still pressing on the gas. He started to slow the car down, but you couldn’t help but continue staring. He looked over to you, “You liked that, huh?” he asked, glancing at the tightening of your thighs. The adrenaline rush of it all was enough to get you excited down there, and his presence only intensified the feeling.

You bit your lip and looked over at his. He placed a hand on your thigh, causing your breath to hitch. “Is this okay?” he asked. “Y-yeah, s’fine,” you responded, taking a deep breath.

Billy took pride in the nervousness he caused in you; it excited him.

He kept driving, but his hand now started moving up and down your thigh. Your heart started to race, and the warmth between your legs began to spread. You weren’t being dramatic; you were touch-deprived for God’s sake, and you’ve never made it past second base with anyone.

He then moved his hand higher up your thigh and squeezed tightly, eliciting a slight moan from you. You looked over at Billy, his face filled with awe, while yours was flustered, as if you were in discomfort, eagerly awaiting his touch to ease the pressure building inside you.

“Stop the car,” you said, out of breath, face hotter than the sun.

“But we’re 3 minutes away—” Billy began, but you cut him off.

“Billy, I don’t give a shit, stop the car!”

With that, he pulled off to the side of the road, removing his hand from your thigh as he put the vehicle in park.

Before he could turn to ask what was wrong, you lunged over the center console at him, unable to contain yourself any longer, and kissed him. You grabbed the sides of his face, and it was a passionate kiss that you held for a moment. Then, as you were about to pull away, he took advantage of the slight opening of your mouth and shoved his tongue inside, grabbing the back of your head and adding incredible pressure and pleasure to the kiss. You both fought for dominance, but he won every time. You were in heaven, and the warmth between your legs was becoming harder to contain.

He stopped the kiss for a moment,

“Climb in my lap,” he said through the clashing of your tongues, slightly out of breath, and you obliged, legs going over the center console as you straddled his lap. It wasn’t as uncomfortable as you thought, and you felt some of the pressure down there relieved as you settled.

Your eyes then went wide as you felt something poking at the denim of your shorts causing Billy to chuckle. You then looked down and seen the outline of his hard cock that was straining in his swim shorts.

He bucked his hips slightly into yours, eliciting a hiss of pleasure from both of you. “Can we keep doing that?” you asked shyly, not wanting him to stop.

“Before we dive into this, there’s something I gotta ask.”

You nodded your head, signaling him to ask his question, while both your hands rested on his face.

“You ever been touched, pretty girl?” Billy asked, his voice rough, as he brushed the hair falling over your face behind your ear.

“I—” you sighed nervously. You felt embarrassed. Everyone your age seemed to be having sex or had some type of experience. Robin and Nancy always talked about their experiences, you loved hearing their stories and always hoped you’d experience the same one day. But, the boys you made out with never did it for you, so second base, making out, was all you knew. They’d try to touch you, but you’d never budge. It wasn’t exciting, thrilling, or intimate; it was just plain boring.

You weren’t an idiot you knew what happened during sex and everything that led up to it you’ve just never taken it to the next level.

“S’okay, baby. You can tell me; I won’t judge,” he spoke, now caressing your face, which was hot to the touch.

“No. I’ve only ever made out with a few people but I’ve never made it past that,” you said looking away,

“Hey, look at me,” Billy said. “Look at me, Y/N… I’m gonna show you everything you’ve been missing if you let me.” His hands moved down your sides. “We can take it slow, and then we’ll build our way up. How does that sound?” Billy’s asked voice smooth like honey.

You nodded furiously, excitement building in your belly.

“Good. Now take these off,” he said unbuttoning your denim shorts, “I need you in just your bikini bottoms.” You obliged opening the drivers door quickly hopping out to take off your shorts, then hopped right back in straddling Billy’s lap once again.

The pressure felt different this time, you almost moaned at the contact because it was much more intense as you felt the outline of his cock on your pussy.

You let out shaky breaths as he put his hands on your hips, pushing you down to apply pressure on his throbbing cock. “I’m assuming you’ve never had your big O either, hmm?” he asked. You furrowed your eyes in confusion at his question and tilted your head to the side.

“An orgasm?” Billy spoke again. Your eyes lit up at the familiar word. Robin had told you all about the extraordinary feeling, but you’ve never come close to experiencing it.

“Oh!” you exclaimed, finally understanding what he was talking about, but your expression shifted to a frown. “No, never,” you mumbled.

“Oh, you’re breaking my heart, baby,” he said as he guided your hips to grind up, then down his clothed length. “Ah, shit,” you cursed as you grabbed at his muscle shirt, almost tearing it off with how hard you were gripping. “That’s okay,” he cooed. “I’m gonna have so much fun with you, darling,” he rasped against your ear, licking at it.

A big part of him found comfort in the fact that no one else’s hands had touched you but his own, knowing that no one else could make you feel the way he did. The mere thought of anyone else touching you drove him to the edge of insanity. He was possessive, and he couldn’t help it.

The sensation you felt was otherworldly. It felt as though your body was craving this, yearning for this level of attention. Each touch sent shivers down your spine, like tiny electric shocks. Billy locked his deep blue eyes with yours, his mouth slightly agape. You couldn’t fathom how he was finding pleasure in this, but he did. His face flushed slightly, and he emitted small grunts as you took charge of your movements. Unable to resist any longer, you leaned in and shared a sloppy, passionate kiss with him. The mutual fervor intensified your arousal, and you found yourself moaning into his mouth as he guided your pace.

“That feel good, sweetheart? You like that?” He grunted through the sloppy kiss. You kept going like that for a few seconds, then Billy slipped his hands down, ghosting your clit with his fingers, and pulled your bikini to the side roughly. Your bare pussy was now grinding on his clothed member. “Fuck, you’re killing me, Y/N. You’re dripping through my shorts,” he said in a low grunt.

“Ah, feels so good, Billy, feels amazing,” you whined, your eyes half-lidded, lost in the sensation. It was incredible. Your wet folds were soaking through Billy’s shorts.

“You’re almost there, sweetheart. You’re doing so well,” Billy groaned into your mouth. Both your tongues explored eagerly, creating an intense heat. Drool dripped from your mouth, mingling with his, and you savored each other’s taste, lost in the moment.

Billy was on the edge, trying hard to control himself. You were driving him wild, completely absorbed in your own pleasure as you kissed him passionately. It was a new experience for him, seeing you like this, and he knew he would never forget it.

It was difficult for him to restrain himself from touching you, from speeding up the process and bringing you to orgasm faster. But he resisted, wanting you to explore and discover on your own, to use him as you pleased. He desired to corrupt you, to be the one to show you the way, to introduce you to pleasure. It felt selfish and sinful, but he wanted to be the one, and he always would be.

“Billy, I think… oh, fuck, I think I’m coming,” you whimpered as the knot tightened at your core. It was overwhelming, your movements becoming erratic, and Billy gripping your hips roughly as if he was about to burst too.

Billy then released one hand from your hip, cupping both cheeks with it, and forced you to look into his eyes as you unraveled. Your eyes screwed shut, and your hips stuttered with pleasure, drawing out a stream of curses from Billy’s mouth.

“Fuck, fuck,” Billy groaned as he shot a load into his swim shorts.

Your moans grew louder, and then the knot snapped. Your mind went black as waves of pleasure took over your body, riding out your first orgasm. Billy’s intense groans and moans added to the overwhelming sensation.

You collapsed onto his heaving chest, both of you needing to catch your breath.

There was a moment of silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Instead, it was filled with joy and hope. You both were still shocked that this had happened.

“Can we have sex now?” you said, out of breath, lifting your head a little from his chest and batting your lashes at him.

Billy chuckled, “Easy there, tiger. Remember, we’re taking it slow. Don’t want to overwhelm you,” he said, gently brushing the back of your soft hair with his hand.

“Is it always like that?” you asked curiously. “Do you feel like this with other people? Is it always this intense and earth-shattering?”

Billy pondered for a moment. He knew the answer; he just couldn’t believe it. He had came in his pants from just your grinding. It was unbelievable.

“Nah,” Billy responded. “It’s never like this. It’s us. It’s you.”

You blushed and buried your face into the crook of his neck, feeling warm inside. You were excited to explore this world of pleasure together.

“Looks like we’ve lost light,” you giggled, poking his chest, your gaze drifting to the darkness outside.

“Yeah,” he smiled, remembering how he had hurried you out of the house. “We sure did.”

Taglist:

@jennapancake @writethrough @callsignwidow @strlightfilms @empathyroad @moneyy-21 @fossface @t3n1 @learninglinesintherainn

Tags:

[pencileraser1]

things i noticed/thoughts about most recent rewatches of dps (plus laserdisk deleted scenes):

whenever theres a group scene i've started watching the characters that the story isn't focusing on to see what they do and i've been having a fun time with that. pitts and cameron specifically seem to almost always be doing something interesting in the background.

hopkins!!!! my favorite minor character who somehow got character development despite having like 2 lines!!!! the last guy to stand on the desk but he did it!!!

sometimes i do like to think about what the rest of the students thought about the dead poets society, esp in alternate timeline neil lives dps keeps meeting universe. like yeah theres this guy in their class whose one of the most credited students in the school and we think he maybe started a cult. idk though. but that group runs out into the woods every few days to do god knows what and one of them keeps talking about "dead poets honor" whatever that means and holy shit welton star student neil perry started a cult.

i watched the movie with headphones. and maybe it's because ive seen this movie Far too many times and mabe i'm listening too hard but it was Really obvious sometimes when audio was added in post production. llke in the sweaty toothed madman scene when you can hear laughing and to be fair the camera is behind their heads. but it does Not look like anyone's laughing. my favorite is at the end of the phone call to chris scene where knox is like i'm gonna seize the day!! and runs up the stairs and the poets are cheering him on and neil is sort of yelling "carpe!!!!" and i could be wrong but i'm like 75% certain that the person singing is Also rsl so now neil is just speaking two times at once somehow. anyways it didn't ruin the experience for me or anything it was maybe just a little bit funny to notice but very sorry if this did ruin anyone's viewing.

people talk a lot about how rsl and ethan hawke really made their characters what they are but i have to add dylan kussman to that list. I get the impression that older versions of the movie didn't really give as much depth to cameron and watching dylan kussmans performance is like. he Knew who his character was so fucking well and it shows!! like the deleted scene of them getting clubs assigned. like i could tell So Much about cameron from that scene

for how little she actually appeared, there is an emphasis put on the fact that neil's mom smokes pretty frequently. and i think that's interesting considering neil is one of two poets shown actively smoking. neil's mom doesn't appear for very long in the movie but during that time it definitely seems like the movie is intentionally making parallels between the two, particularly in the last argument with neil's father. neil and his mother are both sitting for almost the whole time, which contrasts with his father who is standing. they are both almost powerless in this scene. they stand up at almost the same time. anyways there's a couple different possibilities for what this could mean? that i've though of? 1. to show that neil's mother is in a similar situation to the one neil is in in regards to neil's father and 2. maybe a stretch here but the theory that neil inherited his mental illness at least partially from his mother. i'm pretty sure 1 was fully intentional on the directors part, not entirely sure about 2 though

unmanned flying desket scene: it's probably cause he and ethan wrote the scene themselves but the way rsl talks in this scene feels more like the way he talks in general than the rest of the script. like briefly neil perry is talking in rsl's voice. one of my absolute favorite scenes though the sarcastic dialogue is so good.

the light of knowledge at the first shot of the film vs. todd standing on his desk at the last shot of the film paralel

[violetasteracademic]

What does it take for regifted jewelry to be romantic?

Rambling crap post that will literally only make sense of you have seen the movie The Family Stone but let's do it.

Sometimes I genuinely try to understand other ships. I actually really mean that, in a deeply authentic and non sarcastic way. If this shipwar wasn't so nasty, I'd engage with other people the way I do with my real, human, offline friends- some of whom are E/lucien's and G/wynriels. They are genuinely wonderful people who are not chronically online like we are (and we are, there's no point throwing that around as an insult) and they don't actually care that much. They are just going off vibes - but would be absolutely disgusted to see the violent misogyny and bullying that takes place here. We enjoy talking to each other about the ships, even when we don't agree.

Typically, when I am trying to understand something, I seek out more of it. I've asked my friends for fated mate book recommendations that match E/Lucien's story (meeting your mate, then genuinely falling for another person that is absolutely right for you in every way except for the fact that he is not your mate, and somehow the plot leads to falling in love with your mate that you don't like anyways because fate is always right and never makes mistakes, even if everyone is questioning it because you have feelings for someone else) and I haven't been able to find anything. The closest I can get is meeting your mate when you are possibly already in love/engaged/what have you to someone else and then you find out that person you are already with is actually the worst (aka Graysen) and then you wind up falling in love naturally and authentically with your mate. This is what makes it work. The person who isn't your mate showing his true colors and realizing you were wrong about them.

I think this is why Azriel's character has been rewritten to create a moment of the male Elain is actually into showing his true colors. Otherwise, her moving on to her mate that she isn't interested in just because the guy she likes rejected her literally doesn't make any sense. It can't be political machinations and the threat of violence and exterior motives and interference keeping Azriel and Elain apart. It has to be Azriel's personality and personhood, or the fated mates typical structure that I assume everyone is basing their thought process on falls apart.

I've actually been wracking my brain for years to find a piece of art or story that represents a piece of jewelry being regifted symbolizing the transference of a relationship and I FINALLY realized- my favorite holiday movie- The Family Stone! My God, the movie is literally named for the piece of jewelry, his mother's ring.

Finally having a piece to work with and pick apart allowed me to understand what elements are required to really pull off "regifting" to show that the gift is symbolically landing where it needs to go in a moving and romantic way.

1: The jewelry must not have been picked out and purchased for a specific woman, with deep and thoughtful insights as to why the man saw this piece of jewelry and thought of the woman he loves. In The Family Stone, the ring is an heirloom. It is no one's ring but his mother's. And the journey of this stone landing on the hand of the woman that is right for Emmet is deep, complicated, and heart breaking.

This is not the case for Azriel, who saw the rose necklace (very widely agreed to symbolically represent Elain on all sides) and saw something that the full depth and color was revealed when held to the light, a thing of secret, lovely beauty. And he knew it was meant for Elain. My God. Jfc. That's poetry.

2: The original recipient of the gift must actively show displeasure or disappointment in the jewelry- further revealing that this is the wrong woman.

In The Family Stone, Meredith (Sarah Jessica Parker), the "first" and "wrong" woman sees the ring on her little sister Julie's finger (Claire Danes) and while there is some drama (the ring symbolically gets stuck on Julie's finger lolol) Meredith looks at the ring and hilariously goes- "That's it?" because the diamond is so small. She doesn't like it. She wouldn't want to wear it. Meanwhile Julie was stunned. She lost her breath over its beauty and was overwhelmed.

Elain was also stunned and breathless at how beautiful her gift was. She wants to wear it immediately, and she wants him to put it on her. The act of this beautiful, thoughtful gift emboldens Elain to do something she has never done before: Blatant, unrestricted touching. Even while the man she is supposed to be with, the man whose gifts do disappoint her, sleeps upstairs. So the classic holiday romance trope of one gift is right and one gift is wrong is already playing out. From Elain's perspective, the woman who will demand a say in who she chooses and is the only confirmed FMC, she's been getting disappointing gifts from her mate for years. When she finally sees a gift that steals the air from her lungs and lights up her eyes, a gift she wants to wear and use immediately after years of lukewarm responses to the man she is "meant" to be with, it's romantic as fuck. Unless you don't like her and don't want her with Azriel, in which case it isn't romantic to you personally. However, personal opinion on Elain doesn't actually change the fact that after years of many of us already assuming Az and Elain were into each other, they had an extremely classic holiday romance reveal.

4: The act of changing your mind about who will receive this gift, in order for it to be romantic, must be an act of hope. An act of joy and dreams and revelation. Realizing that there is more out there for you, and after years of playing it safe, of trying to make it work for the wrong reasons with the wrong woman, you are ready to be brave and break your character patterns to act on that dream of happiness.

Near the climax of The Family Stone, we discover that Emmet's mother, the keeper of this ring, has had her breast cancer return. It is already clear she is not going to make it this time.

We learn that Emmet has been acting out of trauma, grief, and loss. He cannot wrap his mind around the thought of getting married without his mother being there. In a heart breaking scene, Sybil finally gives Emmet the ring she has been refusing the entire movie and lets him know it is his decision. But she also frees him from the horrible pressure he has placed on himself to get married while she is still alive. She wishes passion, joy, and happiness for him. She helps him cope with the loss of her, helps him heal the wound and burdens he carries of trying to be the Perfect Son and do everything right. All she wants for him is happiness and love. But ultimately, the decision is his.

In a rush of hope and healing, Emmet asks Julie to try the ring on. He wants to see it on her. It is a culmination. It is powerful, emotional, and restorative. In this story of brothers and sisters coping with the loss of their mother and trying to find their personal happiness, they all wind up together in the end. Meredith winds up telling Emmet she can't marry him, before he even reveals he decided not to ask her, because they both knew it wasn't right. It was so clear that they weren't in love with each other, but just trying to fit this ideal picture for reasons that had nothing to do with love. Still, Meredith isn't a villain, and winds up falling in love with his brother. The next year, everyone but Sybil gathers as a family, the first Christmas without her. The grief is palpable, but so is the love. The image of Sybil smiling at her gathered family through last year's gifted photograph of her ends the movie.

Azriel's regifting of Elaine's necklace was not a culmination. It was not an act of hope, it was not Azriel releasing Elain because he realized his love for her was not genuine and there was real and true happiness to be found in G/wyn. He did not even care to give it to her directly. He gave it to Clotho, who absolutely read the vibes and noted his sadness. He didn't even care if it wound up with Gwyn or literally any other priestess. He needed to relieve himself of the necklace because of the pain of not being able to be with Elain, just like Cassian yeeted his first Solstice gift to Nesta into the Sidra after her rejection. Regifted or getting rid of gifts as an act of pain is not romance. It is not even symbolic of a change. It only reflects a man who is hurting because he has nowhere to channel his love and longing.

What I find odd is that most people do agree that Az regifting the necklace via Clotho is absolutely not romantic, thus Azriel incel fuckboy (which literally makes no sense) was born. For the necklace regift to hold the symbolism that G/wynriels want it to hold (a sort of passing of the torch of Azriel's affection and attention) they agree that this is icky and gross behavior but G/wyn will fix him and he'll stop being icky and gross. I'd ask for recommendations on romances like that to try to understand that thought process as well, but frankly I am not interested.

Azriel getting rid of the necklace was not an act of hope, it was an act of pain. It was lot an act of love, it was an act of loss.

A change in who a gift belongs to can be romantic, with the right elements. The great ACOSF bonus chapter necklacegate has none of them. And yet somehow, even though everyone agrees it wasn't romantic, people are still out here arguing that it clearly symbolizes a new romance.

I assure you, romance symbolizes romance. It shouldn't be tricky or leave you feeling icky or like the MMC is flaky and entitled. I cannot think of a single romance author who thinks it's a good idea to sit down and write toxic fuckbois as MMC's. Even if they were toxic fuckbois in the past, they IMMEDIATELY simp for their women. As of now, Azriel still hasn't noticed G/wyn, his supposed mate, and is hurting and heartbroken over another woman that he would kill for if asked to. He is not coping with it by raking about town and looking for a new girl to fall in love with since he was ordered away from the one he wanted. He's just training, not sleeping, and putting rocks in snowballs.

When trying to determine what is being foreshadowed as romance, if we have to stretch beyond asking the simple question what is romantic, I fear we have lost the plot.

[ultimategenshintournament]

Ultimate Genshin Tournament: Finals

[Mistake poll, go vote in the new one]

Propaganda below cut

Arlecchino:

Hot Evil Woman.

#the duality of arlecchino is so well done #Also her design is insanely attractive (via @rinrinlovee)

#women driven by their own agenda #implied to be fucking insane #people were disappointed she didn't actually kill the kids in her story but listen #that would make her no better than dottore #she's a bad bitch she refuses to run the house on anyone’s terms but her own #i love morally grey characters guys #arle has mystery and intrigue there is no telling what her next move might be #and she has her fair share of tragic yuri #the fact that she is harsh #that there is inherent immorality in her character since she trains orphans to be child soldiers #but the fact that she still cares deeply for her charges #and arle thinks the doctor is despicable and refuses to make deals with him #except one that allowed her to set the children free to take their own path #like i cannot emphasize enough how much depth is in her character #freminet reports that she doesnt like when the children cry #but she still brought him back an emblem of his mother #and told him the truth about why he is in the House #in fact she's deeply appalled when she finds out he's been lied to and told his mother no longer wanted him #she is incredibly perceptive and forward thinking #and fine ill say it shes hot #and she's ridiculously powerful #in her boss fight we dont even kill her. we don't even come close #she was just entertaining us as a test #also i really enjoy a character who can suffer such tragedy and carry it with her in her life #but then is afforded the agency to make it better for herself and everyone who comes after #no child will die for wanting to choose their future #wanderer saying that those who have seen through her cordial facade have disappeared #like how can you NOT be interested in her #i want to know desperately what her grand plan is #i think we as a fanbase moved on way too quickly from the fact that teenage arlecchino #KILLED A FUCKING HARBINGER #also the question of where is arle actually from still remains #what exactly *is* she? (via @stormyrainyday)

Furina:

girl deserves therapy and hugs and the best life in the WORLD because she went through a lot!!!! wouldn't pretending to be a god for 500 years with no support mess you up? and yet she still kept on going for her people!! she wanted to save her nation from a doomsday prophecy and she DID

After act 5 she deserves the world :(

“If all the people of Fontaine are on one side, and I am on the other…is it not obvious where the scales of suffering should tilt?” NO IT ISNT YOU’RE JUST ABNORMALLY SELFLESS AND INCREDIBLE AND PERSISTENT. Even the Archons praise Furina’s name and say she is a human with strength and capability worthy of an Archon. That’s not even to speak of Focalors. She snapped at Arlecchino when she implied that Furina had done nothing to preserve her people from the flood. Meanwhile every minute she was working to prevent the prophecy. A month after we took her to court and almost got her killed she agreed to help us direct a play, a favor for a favor

Guys, she deserves to win. She endured 500 years of torment and suffering. No hope in sight, just the knowledge that a trial, any trial, might signal the start of her life as herself. She sacrificed herself again and again: her reputation before the people of Fontaine, her happiness during the 500 years of her rule, and her very own divinity. Her trailer is literally just her worst nightmare coming to life. She is finding the joy in life again, slowly. Let’s be a part of that joy. Vote Furina!!!! 

Your honor, they're married and Arlecchino would want her wife to win.

HAVE YOU SEEN HER? SHE IS SO BEAUTIFUL OH MY GOSH AND HER VOICEEEEE MY QUEEN MY GODDESS MY EVERYTHING WE NEED TO HAVE HER WIN THIS SHE IS SO PRETTY

she literally gave up her entire sense of self and sacrificed everything just to save Fontaine… all without ever knowing that she was the human side of the archon. She did everything because of her own sense of justice, because of her love for the people, because even she had to do her all for a chance for them to live on. Furina is the perfect example of what a leader should be, while also being so so very fragile and just…so very human. needless to say, Furina is perfect through being imperfect. So she absolutely deserves this win FURINA SWEEP REAL!!!

she managed to fool an entire nation and even the hydro dragon for 500 years. She literally put up the greatest act in all of history. All for one singular goal. The survival of Fontaine. And what did she give? Everything. Her soul. Her life. She is the epitome of the most amazing character design. And so she absolutely deserves this win!!

she literally was almost assassinated by the one she is up against right now. She literally almost was killed by arle. Literally WHY would you let arle win over our beloved queen Furina? Furina is a victim who is suffering trauma from her. She deserves the win more than arle! Payback for arle traumatizing sweet, innocent Furina…!!!!!

(image via @deityofhearts)

[thefallennightmare]

Miracle-twenty two

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings/Tropes: forced proximity, slight enemies to lovers, slow burn, smut, angst, fluff, mentions of death, and swearing.

Summary: Reader is the merch girl for Bad Omens. It wasn't what she wanted to do with her life but when her mother got sick with Alzheimer's, reader took a job where she could to help with the costs. She thought it would be a one-time gig but the longer she was on the road with them, the harder she fell for Noah Sebastian; even if he wanted nothing to do with her. She needed a miracle to save her mom and her future.

Author Note: The moment you've all been waiting for. I know I teased masked sex in this one BUT it's going to have to wait for the next chapter. TWO CHAPTERS LEFT; I REPEAT TWO CHAPTERS LEFT!

Tags: @ada-clarence @nonamessblog @thescarlettvvitch @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @theoneandonlykymberlee @yumikitten @blackveilomens @cherrymedicine13 @thebadchic @notmaddihealy @jay02bo @beaker1636 @jakekiszkasguitarpick @punk-pr1ncessxoxo @er3nslovergirl @iamdesolate @lma1986 @jessitpwk @themodern-daywednesday @writethrough @bngurngheart @dreams-that-are-anwsered @loeytuan98 @omens-in-reverse @loverofagoodbeard @jay02bo @niicoleleigh @tearfallpixie @cupidsdreams

"Noah, I swear to the gods, put me down," I giggled while smacking his back.

He ignored my protest and pathetic attempt to break free from his hold as he opened the door to his room, kicking it closed behind him. My upside down view was of his round ass, which I tried hard not to take a bite out off, so I wasn't able to see what was scattered around the room and bed until Noah gently let me fall to my feet.

I brushed my hair out of my face while narrowing my eyes at him. "You can't manhandle me to get what you want, you know."

He scoffed while raising a brow. "Says the girl that just jerked me off in front of the guys."

I pursed my lips, a red hue covering my cheeks, and when I went to retort back with a witty comeback, I noticed the scene in front of me.

Behind Noah, who was smirking like an idiot, were a couple bouquets of flowers; one on his dresser, one on the table next to his bed, and one on his desk next to his computer. All black dahlia's, my favorite.

"Davis told me that back in high school you used to be obsessed with black dahlia's," Noah said as he watched me fiddle with one between my fingers.

Tears burned at the back of my eyes but I refused to let them slip.

"Yeah," I cleared my throat. "After the murder; call me grotesque but I'm a huge true crime nerd."

Noah smiled warmly at me when I gazed over to him. "When did you do all this? We've been together all night.

"I set it up when you ran to grab the pizza's. Although, I was hoping to have you up here a lot sooner. The playlist I made is almost over."

"Playlist?" I questioned, now hearing the soft tune of music play from his computer.

Bending over the desk, I scrolled through the entire Spotify playlist he created and titled it Angel. It had all of my favorite songs and of course, some Bad Omens songs. Between the flowers and playlist, my heart was swooning with such an intense feeling that I had to grip the chair in front of me to steady myself. Why did I feel like this? Why was this unknown feeling so intense that I couldn't breathe?

Love, you idiot. You fucking love Noah Sebastian.

I almost stumbled on my feet when the realization slammed through me like a fucking truck. There always was this sensation that lurked at the depths of my heart and soul that knew I loved Noah. With everything that's happened the last few weeks, however, clouded over those sensations until recently. The more time I spent with now, the intense those sensations vibrated throughout my veins.

"You didn't have to do all this, Noah," my bottom lip trembled.

He cupped my cheek, thumb grazing over the trembling lip. "Yes, I did. You've been going through so much lately and while I don't know what's going on in your mind exactly."

Noah's fingers tapped against my forehead causing me to let out a small laugh.

"I do know that you needed something to lift your spirits," he finished then motioned to the bed behind me.

Looking over my shoulder, a gasp fell from my lips when I saw a small velvet box on the bed, next to a piece of paper that folded perfectly in half. Noah quickly hushed my panic with a kiss to the side of my head when he noticed my shoulders went stiff.

"It's not a ring, don't worry," he muttered.

Good.

Because I only realized I loved him, the last thing I needed right now was a proposal. But that didn't mean I was opposed to it down the road.

With shaky hands, I opted in picking up the piece of paper first and seeing what it was made my stomach flip repeatedly.

"A plane ticket?" I peered up at Noah.

"You're coming with to Europe, angel. Wether its to work for Bad Omens or to be with me. I'm not letting you stay back," Noah's tucked a piece of hair behind my ears, fingers lingering on the skin of my neck.

Guilt pulled at my heart. "I think I have no choice but to work for you. I have to save up some money if I want to find a place. Although, I'm not sure how I'm going to afford anything over in Europe. Maybe I should stay back and find a job here-."

Noah hushed my ramblings with a fiery kiss, hand burying into my hair while the other grasped at the back of my neck to pull me into his chest. The plane ticket fluttered to the ground as I grabbed a fist full of his shirt and I had to stand on my toes to lean up into the kiss.

"For once, angel. Stop worrying about what you have to do in order to survive. I'm here now, let me help you with things," he muttered against my lips.

"But I-."

Once again, Noah cut off my words with his lips but this kiss wasn't intense as the last one.

"Please let me do this, okay?" He leaned back so he could look into my eyes. "Let me take care of you the way I should have from the start."

The part of me that was used to fighting help or fighting to survive screamed to decline, tell Noah to fuck off and I didn't need his help. But learning to change and heal from the trauma of my past made me eventually nod. I needed to learn to accept help because there were something I couldn't do on my own.

"Okay," I breathed. "But I still think I should start looking for an apartment. It might take a while of me working to save up."

Noah grabbed the other gift and placed it in my hands. "This might help."

I raised a curious brow at him. "What is it?"

"That's the whole concept of a gift. You open it and see," he urged me on with a nod.

I smacked his hand away as he tried to open the box for me and when I saw what was inside; I was even more confused.

"A key?" I wondered while picking it up out of the box. "What's this for?"

Noah rubbed the back of his neck."Uh, shit. I had this whole thing planned in my head but now that you're standing in front of me, I'm nervous."

My heart hammered against my chest as I waited for him to find the words he needed to say, still clutching the key tight in my hand. I knew what he was going to ask and my brain was screaming the answer already before he even asked.

With his hand in mine, the thumb that had the angel wings tattoo rubbing across the back of my hand, Noah locked his eyes with mine.

"Move in with me, angel."

The words stumbled out in one large garbled mess, and Noah cursed. "Fuck, this was a lot easier when I practiced it in my head."

Through my own nerves, I couldn't help but giggle at how adorable he was in this moment. From the second I opened the small box, I knew what he wanted to ask me but I was still very on the fence about it.

"Are you sure that's a good idea? We're going to be with each other all the time at home and at work? Won't you get sick of me?"

The corner of Noah's lips curled up in a smile. "You said home."

Fuck.

I bit the inside of my cheek to hide my own smile. "You know what I mean."

He pulled me down to sit on his bed with him and brough my legs into his lap, fingers grazing over the bare skin of my thighs. The small action did so much to calm my racing heart.

"There's no way I could get sick of you. Having you with me when I wake up in the morning or go to sleep at the end of a long day makes whatever issues we may have down the road worth it. It makes sense if you think about it. Why would I have you go find a place of your own when Jolly and I have all this extra space?"

My eyes widened. "Oh, please tell me you talked to Jolly about this? I don't want him to feel left out or what if he thinks we're going to kick him out?"

"Jolly is fine with it," Noah reassured me by pulling out his phone to show me the text thread between him and Jolly.

Of course, he was telling the truth. Jolly even called him out for not asking sooner. But when I watched Noah swipe out of the messages, I got a peak at the background on his phone and my cheeks flushed with a blazing heat. It was a picture of me, one that I posted on my Only Fans; the one of mean in their Bad Omens shirt in the tour bus bathroom.

"Noah Sebastian!" I scolded. "Why the fuck is that your background?!"

I jumped into his lap to snatch the phone from him hoping to change the background. Noah laughed while one hand kept the phone away from quite a distance and his other arm snaked around my back to keep me in place.

"It's fucking hot, angel." Noah shrugged so matter-of-factly.

"What if someone sees it?" I seethed trying to reach for the phone again. "Well, Folio's already seen those but still."

"Don't remind me," Noah grumbled, dropping his phone on his bed.

The grip on me turned possessive and for a moment, I stopped trying to grab his phone and instead, cupped Noah's face.

"You have no reason to be jealous. I deleted the page but we both know those pictures are out there. It was something I knew would happen when I started the page."

"I know," he eventually sighed.

"Why do you even want that picture as your background? You can't see my face," I wondered.

Noah's eyes darkened as he licked his lips. "Maybe you should take another one for me, this time where I can see your gorgeous face."

"Hm," I hummed while brushing my nose across his. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"You don't even know."

My squeal of laughter echoed around the room when Noah flipped us on the bed so he was leaning over me, digging his hips into mine. A mixture between a moan and a whine fell from my lips and I grasped at his hips so I could keep him close. He was still wearing his sweats from earlier so I could still feel the hard definition of his hardening cock. With his face buried in the crook of my neck, Noah breathed me in while leaving pepper light kisses everywhere.

"You said home," he repeated his words form earlier.

"Yes," I breathed out a moan when his cock slide over the folds of my pussy.

I was still turned on from our little under the blanket action earlier and with everything he was doing right now; I was minutes away from coming undone.

"So you'll stay?"

Noah pulled away so he could gaze down at me, hair falling into his eyes. I gently brushed it away so I could get a good look of his face to see if he truly meant and understood what he was asking of me. This wasn't something he could take back, or well he could but it would mean the end of our relationship. That wasn't something I wanted.

But through the dark depths of his eyes, I could see that Noah meant every part of his question.

Leaning up so my lips ghosted over his, I smiled. "Only if you change your background."

"It's a fucking deal, angel," Noah said before crashing his lips to mine.

We both moaned into the kiss, starved for the desire that's been clawing at our insides for weeks. It's been an unspoken rule between us that even though we've fooled around, we still haven't had sex yet. Neither of us knew why we were waiting so long to jump over that hurdle but now that the future was bright and clear of any more obstacles, we were ready.

I was ready.

Noah's large hand spread across the skin of my stomach as he slipped it underneath my shirt, fingers pulling at the waistband of my pants, a silent question.

"Please," I begged, raising my hips up to meet his.

He made quick work of shedding me of my pants then my shirt, me now laying underneath him in just a pair of black panties. Sheer darkness filled the whites of his eyes as he cocked his head at me.

"You weren't wearing a bra all night?"

I shrugged innocently. "Oops."

Noah's savageness poured out of him through his kiss as he attacked my lips once more and now it was me who slipped him off his shirt and sweats, the black briefs doing absolutely nothing to hide the hardness of his cock. I ran my palm over it, his entire body shivering underneath my touch.

"Fuck, angel. If you keep that up I'm going to cum in your hand all over again," he groaned while bitting my bottom lip.

I hissed in pleasure, the taste of copper lingering on my tongue.

"Did you-." I licked my bottom lip. "Did you just bite me?"

Noah shrugged. "Oops."

Wrapping my legs around his waist, I somehow managed to flip us around so I was now straddling him. It wasn't an easy task since he was much taller than me but we made it work even though we were horizontal on the bed.

"Noah."

His name fell from my lips in a whine full of desperation. He barley touched me but the wetness between my legs was warm and I needed this release so fucking bad.

"What do you want from me?" His hand slide up my stomach to cup my breast, fingers pinching and pulling my nipples.

"You. I just want you."

With his free hand, he helped me shimmy out of my panties then I hurriedly slid his briefs down his long legs, eyes lingering on the array of tattoo's. I was kneeling in front of him and leaned towards the rose tattoo on his right kneecap to pepper kisses along it before jumping over to the Japanese style mask on his left leg, purposely avoiding the tattoo of Bryan's face.

"That's so fucking weird."

"Trust me. That's not the weirdest tattoo I have," he chuckled.

My lips parted over the leaking head of Noah's cock, fingers wrapping around the base, and I licked up the bits of pre-cum that seeped through the slit. I hummed in pure delight as the salty taste lingered on my lips.

"So good," I praised looking up at him through my lashes

He groaned pleasure, or annoyance that I was taking my time, I wasn't sure. Noah sat up and rested his elbows on his knees, the LED lights behind his bed and around his room bathed him in an orange glow.

"Angel," he warned. "I'm not in the mood for games. Please."

I rose to my feet slowly. "Is Noah Sebastian begging?"

"Fuck yes I am," he sighed.

"Well, who am I to make you wait," I straddled his hips once again and gently pushed him back onto the bed, the head of his cock sliding along my folds.

My head leaned back in pure bliss when Noah guided himself past my wetness, the thickness of his cock filling me completely. It pulsed inside of me, earning a desperate groan from me. Noah's eyes fluttered shut as his lips parted to an 'O' shape and hands gripping my hips so tight I was sure there would be bruises in the morning.

But I didn't care. Having him finally inside of me felt so fucking good.

I rocked my hips against him with my swollen clit rubbing against his warm stomach and I shivered at the sensation. Everything from earlier sent me in a spiral of pure desire and I felt the coil in my stomach pulling tight.

"Are you alright?" I asked when I realized Noah was barley moving.

He nodded, eyes finding mine through the messy strands of hair that covered his face.

"You're just so fucking beautiful, angel. I've wanted this for so long," he admitted and grabbed the back of my neck to yank me down towards him.

He attacked my lips with so my force I had to rest a hand on his chest, our tongues exploring each other mouths in a kiss so vicious it made my head spin. Noah's hips finally moved in a slow, steady stroke and I whined into the kiss.

"More," I mumbled into his lips.

"Fuck, angel." He groaned. "If I go faster, I'll-. It's too good."

I cupped his face to look at him. "Noah, please don't think you need to make this last an hour. I'm so fucking close and I can tell you are too. I have an implant so you don't have to worry about anything."

That's all he needed before his arms wrapped around my back, pulling me closer to his chest as his hips snapped up into me in violent strokes, the head of his cock hitting that perfect spot. I yelled out my pleasure, exposing my neck to Noah who immediately attacked it with his teeth leaving bite marks all along it.

My body hummed in a prayer like awaking, the flames and heat burning high in my belly as my organs crested higher; so fucking high I was afraid I would combust into nothing but matter in the air. His name fell from my lips in devotion, a woman praying to her God, and my toes curled as the orgasm ripped through me with so much force I screamed out in pure bliss.

"I love you."

The aftershocks halted, my body going rigid in Noah's embrace, who didn't bother to stop moving his hips. My heart swelled with so much emotion at hearing those three words and I brushed back the stand of hair from Noah's face, it stuck to the skin with his sweat.

"Wha-what did you say?" I stammered, breathless.

He blinked slow. "I love you, angel. I'm so fucking sorry for everything hurtful thing I've done or said to you but I promise I'll spend forever making it up to you."

"I." Thrust. "Love." Thrust. "You."

A second orgasm tore through my entire being at Noah's proclamation and my head fell into his chest, his cock twitching before he released himself deep within my walls, a low groan rumbling from his throat. We lay there tangled in each other's arms for a long moment to let our breathing calm, along with our hearts. Although, there was no way mine would ever beat normal after hearing Noah loved me.

He loves me.

I peppered kisses all along the tattoo's over his chest as I curled myself underneath his arm, exhaustion digging deep into my bones.

"I love you too, Noah."

[gliphyartfan]

Hiiii, I’m back.

FINALLY! You guys have no idea how frustrating this guy was!

But I did it! May the next post happen much soon! Sohelpmegod

@yanderelinkeduniverse @ice-cream-writes-stuff @linked-heroes @screaming-until-god-hears-me @imprisioned-in-the-hole @crestfallenmermaidan @eternadreeblissa @lovanmari

Well no more talk! Only story! Enjoy!

———

——

—

-

"Was dad upset with you today?"

"..."

Colin…didn't really expect an answer, he already knew.

Had seen the frustrated look on his father's face.

And Link, he had simply stood there silently.

When he wasn't found in the village, Colin always found him by the Ordon spring.

Sometimes with Epona, mostly alone. Link just stared into the crystal clear waters, never once looking away.

Colin observes Link's quiet and solemn routine by the entrance of the spring. As he watches, Colin notices something unusual - Link has a jug that belongs to his father, one that Colin had been warned against sipping from. Colin continues to watch Link from a distance, observing the way he silently drinks from the jug and stares into the clear waters.

Just another oddity in the growing list connected to the rancher.

For many days, Link had been behaving utterly odd.

Looking at everyone strangely, almost panicked, as if he no longer understood how to interact with any of them.

Everyone had been whispering about it, yet no one could figure out what caused him to suddenly change so much out of the blue.

Yet despite his strangeness, he still helped Colin's mother Uli, still patrolled alongside Colin's father Rusl. Still dealt with the goats and cared for Epona.

But it was almost…like he was simply going through the actions.

His body was moving but his eyes were empty. Even when he gave everyone a smile, it was crooked, like he didn't even have the energy to smile properly.  

 Colin watches as Link takes another swig from the jug, his eyes never leaving the reflective surface of the water. The typically cheerful rancher seems distant, lost in thought. Colin has never seen Link like this before, and it honestly makes him uneasy.

Despite his anxiety, Colin decides to approach Link, wondering what could be going on in the older boy's mind.

 The sound of the water splashing against the shore and the distant bleating of the goats fills the air. Link doesn't seem to notice Colin's presence, instead continuing to gaze absently into the water. Colin approaches him from the side and looks at the jug of mead in Link's hands.

"He and mom were talking about you." He said quietly, sitting next to him, "I think he knows you've been taking his jug. They are worried." 

 Link turns to look at Colin, his eyes still clouded and distant. "I see," he says, his voice quiet and soft. He takes a long drink from the jug. He sets it down beside him, his gaze returning to the water.

Colin watches as Link takes a deep breath, as if trying to gather his thoughts.

 Colin, curious and worried about Link's distant behavior, gently asks, "Is there…something wrong, Link? You’ve been… different."

 Link stays silent for what feels like an eternity to Colin, his gaze fixed on the water. Just as Colin is about to give up on getting an answer, "I'm just...tired, Colin." Link finally speaks up, his voice barely above a whisper, "Tired of...so much, tired of…losing…so much."

 Link's words hang heavily in the air, the weight of his emotions palpable. Colin, still young and inexperienced, didn’t and couldn’t fully understand the depth of what Link is feeling. He looks up at Link, trying to process the words. "But you always win in the end, don't you?"

"This...isn't something I can win.." 

 Link's reply cuts through the air like a knife, his voice laced with a sadness that only those who have experienced great loss can truly understand. Colin looks up at Link, searching for some hint of the Link he has always known, the one who is brave, strong, and seeming to never falter when trouble was about.

 Colin watched the person he saw as an older brother stare into the waters of the spring. 

He looked so…lost…but it wasn't like he was searching for anything…

It was almost as if he had long given up when just some time ago he had been fine. 

"Link…did you…lose something important?” Colin didn't really know why he said that. But it made sense, in a way. 

He lost something, Colin didn't know what but it must have been so important that it made him like this. 

Made him behave so strangely. 

 Link continues to stare into the water, his mind lost in thought. He seems far away, consumed by his own emotions. Colin's question hangs in the air, unanswered. Link's shoulders sag, as if the weight of the world is resting on them.

Finally, he speaks, his voice quiet and defeated.

"I don't know..." 

 Link's response only deepens the mystery surrounding his current state of mind. The warmth of the setting sun does little to dispel the chill that Colin now feels in the air.

 "I don't…know if I lost anything…anyone…" Link continues unprompted, "I…think I did…I think I lost some…one..so..so precious…" 

  Colin's heart tightens as he hears the pain in Link's voice. He gazes at his older brother, trying to find the right words to say. He opens his mouth, then closes it again, at a loss.

 "But I don't know if I lost anyone…and that scares me…" Link took another drink from the jug, "I think..I'd be happier if I had lost someone.." 

"Why?" Colin couldn't help but ask. 

"…Because it means they had to have existed for me to lose…" 

 Link's words hang heavy in the air, as Colin looks at him with a mixture of confusion and concern. The kind Hyrulean boy that Colin had always known seemed to have been replaced by a hollow, lost shell of his former self.

 Colin takes a deep breath, searching for the right words to say. He wants to offer Link some encouragement, some glimmer of hope to hold onto. But as he opens his mouth, the gnawing silence seems to swallow his words before they can even leave his lips.

Because no matter how much he wanted to help, Colin was just a kid. A kid that didn't really understand what Link was talking about. 

It all confused Colin just as much as it worried him. 

 Colin sits next to Link in silence, his heart heavy with concern. He tries to offer an apology, hoping it might bring some comfort to his brother. "I'm sorry I can't help you, Link," Colin says softly, his voice laced with sadness.

 Link doesn’t look away from the waters. "It's alright, Colin," he says, his voice quiet and devoid of emotion. "I don't think anyone can help me with this." He takes another drink from the jug.

That just made Colin feel worse. 

Eventually Colin glances up at the sky and notices that it has started to darken. Reluctantly, he accepts that it's time for him to return home.

He takes one last look at Link, who still sits at the edge of the spring, lost in his thoughts, like the weight of the world was seemingly on his shoulders.

Colin sighed heavily, feeling a knot tighten in his stomach as he turned and began to make his way back to the village.

And Link...

...simply took another swing from the jug, the ache in his chest gnawing within him that he knew wouldn't be filled. 

He had lost everything that had become so dear to him... 

He didn’t know if he ever had it to begin with…

And all he wanted to do was simply forget, if it meant an end to the horrible pain.

——

——

It was familiar enough.

The Bublins charging into the spring. 

The force that sent him collapsing into the spring waters beneath him.

Uli’s tears and Rusl’s grave face.

The forceful tug into the Twilight.

The agony of his wolf form wrapping around him…

The cell and cuff that bound him in place…

That laughter…that mischievous grin…

At one time, he had longed to hear and see this all again. Longed for the mischievous smile and arrogant words spoken at him. so much so that it was as if he needed it like air. 

But…

…

…Funny how what he once wanted so badly was now the very last thing he ever wanted to see. 

He didn’t know how to feel about it…

—-

—-

Link gasps, collapsing to his knees, his sword stabbing into the ground in order to keep him upright. 

“Why do you continue to fail?”

Link shakes his head, grimacing. 

“I…I don’t…mean to…I-“ 

“You must confront that which you seek to deny, else it damns you to further loss…now..” The point of a blade was aimed at the hero. 

“Again.” 

“…Yes sir…” 

—-

—-

“You have a renewed burden." 

He chose not to reply to the fortune teller. 

At the urging of Midna, who's curiosity over talk of someone who could see into the future had garnered her interest, he had gone to visit Madame Fanadi. 

Personally he'd have simply gone to the next location needing his attention. 

He didn't want to be here, he already knew what he needed to do. 

"You are lost, blindingly wandering through a world of memories long since past." She continued, "Eyes open, but unseeing as you stumble along your unpaved path." 

 Madame Fanadi's words hang heavy in the air, her piercing gaze never leaving the Hero of Twilight. 

"Bound by chains forged from your own guilt and regret." She says, her voice taking on a somber tone.

Link's eyes are focusing on a point beyond Madame Fanadi. He can feel Midna's gaze on him from within his shadow, but he doesn't acknowledge it. 

"Your burden wishes to trap you," she continues, "It would consume you whole, if you let it."

"…And why shouldn't I let it?" The words left his lips before he registered that he even said it. 

 Madame Fanadi's gaze does not falter, as if she had expected this reaction. "There is hope, even in your darkest memories," she says gently. "You have a chance to break free from your burden and find redemption."

He scoffs. "Redemption?"

He doesn't deserve it. None of them did. 

Damned to relive these days. Damned to question whether he was truly reliving them or simply following a pattern that was laid before him. Worse still to realize that it was possibly all a figment of his mind. 

(If they all truly exist... he hopes they are suffering like he was…)

If his Goddess truly existed or not... 

He hoped she never forgave them. 

None of them were worthy of it.

Twilight's hands curl into fists in his lap, knuckles turning white.

He wasn’t worthy of it.

 "You wish to be consumed by the pain, seeing no point in continuing on," she says. "It's eating away at you, consuming you from the inside. Most curious for a young man like yourself to hold such regret."

Twilight's eyes, still fixed on a point beyond the fortune teller, narrow.

Madame Fanadi continues to watch him, calm, patient. As if for her, the passing of time meant nothing. "You are burdened by memories, young hero," she says softly. "Memories that haunt you, memories that bring you pain. Or rather, it is someone within those memories." 

Twilight tensed, his fists squeezing tighter. 

"You want to look away, to run from these thoughts, but you know that you can't escape them." 

"That's enough..." He tells her, his voice low. 

"Tell me young man, do you believe if you ignore these regrets, that somehow you'll be free of the consequences you suffer?" 

"I won’t hear anymore..." 

"Those who fought beside you, the trust you hold for them in your heart, it is strong and bright despite the darkness swirling within." Madame Fanadi continued, "If they stood before you, would they not be suffering such agony as well?" 

She tapped her chin, an almost sorrowful smile on her face. 

"After all, are you not all guilty of the same regret?"

"Stop it!" Twilight was looking directly into the woman's eyes, his own shining with anger and warning. 

 Madame Fanadi does not flinch under the provoked man's gaze, but rather, she holds it, her smile never wavering. "You are trying to hide away from the truth you created, young hero," she says. "But you can only hide so long before that truth finds you."

"I'm leaving." He stands, uncaring that his seat is knocked over. 

 Madame Fanadi's smile doesn't falter as he stood up, her eyes following him. "Remember, young hero, the truth has a way of finding us all." She says this softly, almost like a whisper. The room feels suddenly colder, it would excuse the trembling of his shoulders, and the candles flicker as if in response to her words.

He storms towards the exit, his footsteps echoing in the stillness of the room.

—

—-

He coughs, a dribble of spit escaping the corner of his mouth as he clutches his stomach. 

“Had this been a true battle, you would have been cut down several strikes ago.” 

“I-I’m so-“ a kick to his side sends him sprawling onto the ground once more.

“Don’t apologize. Improve.” Once more, the blade is pointed at him. 

“Again.” 

Link clenches his teeth, trembling with exertion as he reaches for his sword. 

--

--

"What the hell was that Link?" 

As he storms out of Fanadi's Palace, he hears Midna's voice calling out to him. She sounds concerned and a little frustrated, and Twilight knows that she wants him to explain what just happened.

He stays silent and continues to walk away from the building. 

 Midna, not used to being ignored, pesters him as he makes his way through and out the city. 

Link stops in his tracks when they are a good distance away, looking down at Midna, who had appeared in front of him, with a mixture of annoyance and detachment.

"I didn't like what she was saying," he says, his gaze flickering away from Midna's. 

Midna crosses her arms, her expression skeptical.

 "Are you still worried over those kids?" She asks, sighing as if she figured out his problem already. 

"They are safe in that village, that shaman seems to have a good head on his shoulders." She said. 

 Link's eyes narrow at Midna, shaking his head. 

He wasn't going to bother correcting her assumptions.

What he suffers through happened long after she was gone. 

...in his memories anyway.

"..I won't let things get in the way of what we're doing." He says quietly, looking away from her. 

Midna frowned, eyeing him for a moment before returning to his shadow without another word. 

Though he was not stupid to think that was the end of this conversation. 

 The wind rustles through the trees, carrying the scent of blooming flowers and the sound of chirping birds. The sky is a clear blue, with only a few wispy clouds visible. It's a peaceful scene, but Link's mind is anything but. 

 He closed his eyes, hoping the ambiance of the area would pull him into its peaceful embrace. 

It was a fruitless effort of course, but it was better than suffering the ache in his chest. 

—-

—-

“Again.” 

“I’m TRYING!” He growls, grunting as he tiredly raises his blade to block the strike aimed toward him.

“Success must come after attempting, yet you seem to linger at the ‘attempting’ stage of learning.” A twist of a wrist and the rancher’s sword is knocked from his hand and clatters to the ground several feet away from him. 

“Again.” 

Link can only bite back the snarl that tried to escape him, his hands in tight fists as he steps towards his fallen blade.

 --

 --

Link kept a smile on his face when he arrived in Kakariko Village, keeping the troubles that plagued him from seeping through as Talo greeted him excitedly.

Beth was still with Colin and Malo had his store. 

Humoring Talo's rambling as he walked though the village, he soon waved him off when he approached the inn.

Entering the room,  Link can see that Colin is resting peacefully. Beth is sitting in a chair next to him, her head resting on the armrest as she dozes off. 

The warmth and quietness of the room wrap around the Hero. Beth doesn't stir from her sleep, and Colin looks peaceful, his chest rising and falling rhythmically. The silence almost tricks him into relaxing into it's embrace, but his thoughts keep invading, making it difficult to truly relax. He takes a seat next to Beth, watching Colin closely.

Truthfully he had no interest in being here. 

But he had no interest in speaking to Midna either. 

It was either here or back in town, and the rancher wanted to be as far away from that fortune teller as possible. 

Link carefully lays a spare blanket over Beth, tucking it around her shoulders to keep her warm. He then turns his attention back to Colin, not really looking at him, merely giving his eyes a point to focus on. 

The silence in the inn is only broken by the soft snoring of Beth and the rhythmic breathing of Colin. Link's constant attempts to find solace in the peaceful atmosphere are in vain, as his thoughts keep drifting back to Midna and the unspoken tension between them. 

He can feel her eyes on him, even from within his shadow, and he knows she's waiting for him to address the elephant in the room.

This version of her may not have known him as well as previously, but she had a keen eye when she so chose.  

But he refused to speak to her about it. 

He didn't even want to think about any of it. 

 As Link sits in the quiet inn, it's as if he's viewing the world through a foggy glass, unable to truly connect with it.

He...didn't want to be here. 

He takes a slow deep breath, in through his nose and out through his mouth. 

He doesn't want to do any of this again. (Didn’t want to contemplate if he was doing it all over again.)

All he wants is to wake up back at camp, to hear Wild (his mentee, his cub) humming as he finishes breakfast. To hear the others (pack, trusted) slowly awaken at the smell of fresh food. 

To hear Her voice, rough with sleep, greet them good morning, 

To be able to reach out and cup her cheek, to feel the joy as She sleepily nuzzles against it, trusting that he would never harm her. Seeing Her almost fall back to sleep before he softly calls Her name to keep her awake. 

 Link's thoughts are consumed by longing for a past that seemed to never truly have happened, for the companionship he once considered so important. He closes his eyes, trying to imagine himself back at camp with his friends.  He can almost hear everyone's chatter as they prepare for the day, the smell of Wild's cooking.

He can almost feel the warmth of the morning sun on his face, hear the sound of the birds chirping in the trees. He remembers the way Her sleepy laughter would fill the air as she conversed with the others. He remembers the feeling of camaraderie, of belonging to something bigger than himself.

He remembers his pack and he misses them all so very much. 

 His sword brothers...he longed to stand before them once again. 

To be able to walk up to them...reach out his arms...

( And strangle the utter life out of each one of them for daring to damn him to this horrible curs- ) 

He tenses when he hears Beth mumble something in her sleep, relaxing when she didn't saying anything else. 

He focused on some deep slow breath. He could hear his blood rushing in his ears. 

He wants to lash out in some way, but he knows he can't let himself get carried away by his anger. He takes a few more deep breaths, trying to clear his mind. 

As he opens his eyes, he notices Beth stirring in her sleep again. He watches her for a moment, listening to her soft breathing. He can't help but feel a twinge of envy towards her.

Link's gaze remains fixed on Beth, studying her peaceful expression as she sleeps. He can't help but think about how carefree and untroubled she looks, free from the burdens and responsibilities that weigh on his own shoulders. The envy he feels turns into a pang of sadness, and his heart feels heavy in his chest.

'Was it so wrong to want to stand by her side?' He mouthed silently to himself. 

He doesn't want what he remembers to be a dream. He didn't want to think that the love he gained for such an incredible person to have been all for nothing. 

He just wants to go back to his pack, back to Her. 

(Even if his pack would damn him to suffer this cruelt-) 

He ran both his hands through hair, letting one drop while the other kept a grip on his head. 

He didn't want to do any of this! He didn't want to do this! Again or not! He simply wanted this journey far away from his present. To become a long done memory already.

Was he cursed to relive this path over and over? 

Would a chance at life beyond the hero title be a failed dream? 

He just wanted someone to tell him... 

'..Is there an ending to all this?' He whispered to himself, it felt like it echoed in the silence of the room. 

—

—

"...just kill me..." 

Link's voice is barely above a whisper, his shoulders slumped in defeat. The Shade's sword remains at his neck, the weight of it a reminder of his mortality. The ghostly swordsman studies Link.

"Please…I rather die believing in the illusion my mind showed me, than live long enough to find it was all a lie."

The Shade's gaze lingers on Link for a moment longer, then he slowly withdraws his sword, sheathing it with a soft hiss. "I will not grant you such a release," he says into the silence. 

"The strength of your heart…has disappointed me."

Link stays silent, not meeting the Shade's gaze yet feeling the weight of it.

He feels empty…

He feels defeated.

—

—

When Midna finally manages to confront him, it's as sudden and as ferocious as he always expected her to be.

Link could feel the air escape his lungs as the Twili's versatile orange hair slammed him against the dungeon floor. 

"You're not avoiding this any longer you goat-wrangling mutt!" She hissed, Twili magic crackling around her. "You better tell me what's been going on with you or I'll make you." 

Midna's eyes glow with a fierce determination as she pins Link against the floor. Her hair holding him in place. Link struggles to breathe, caught off guard by Midna's sudden attack. He can feel the heat of her anger and the intensity of her gaze.

"I've tried to give you space," Midna said, hands clenched.

"But you've been avoiding even talking to me, and I won't stand for it any longer. You will tell me what's been going on with you, or I will force it out of you."

The air is thick with tension as Link struggles to break free from Midna's grasp. 

"One hell of a time to corner me like this." He grunts, not bothering to struggle. He knew no amount of struggling to free him from her grasp. 

"I thought you wanted me to keep moving?" He asks, trying to buy some time to gather his thoughts. Midna's sudden aggression, had taken him by surprise, and he's still reeling from his own inner turmoil.

Midna's grip on Link tightens, and her eyes narrow. "I did," she says, her voice low and dangerous. "But you've been doing a rather good job keeping me from asking you anything, and I can't stand it any longer."

"Well maybe just keep out of my personal business and you'll spare yourself the frustration." He glares at her, but Midna's gaze doesn't waver. Instead, her eyes seem to bore into him, searching for the truth. Link feels a shiver run down his spine as he realizes that she won't let go. 

"What is wrong with you?" He growls at her, "I have done everything you wanted since you freed me from that cell. Is asking for some privacy in regards to my own life that difficult for you to accept?" 

"Not when it ends with you lashing out!" She snaps back, her grip on him tightening even more. Link winces as she presses down on him for a moment. 

"You nearly attacked that one drunk guy in castle town!" 

"He wouldn't leave me alone." Was all he said. 

"All he said was That he'd feel sorry for whatever girl decides to fall for a, oh what was it he said? 'Grumpy country bumpkin.'? Something about how that girl would just have her heart broken." 

"Wouldn't be the first time I've been called that." He answered, though the people who called him that were trusted friends. 

"Oh? So you decided to nearly yank his arm from his shoulder socket because he just wouldn't stop talking?" 

He didn't care if that stupid drunk rambled on like he had. 

But to say whoever gave their heart to him would suffer heartbreak... 

(Was he that terrible of choice for a life partner? A husband? A mate? Is that why he hurt-) 

"Nothing he said was worth focusing on." 

"And those knights! You snarled at them when they made a stupid joke! SNARLED!" She exclaimed, throwing her hands up when she saw his stubborn expression. "You looked like the very wolf you can change into. They ran without a second go waste!”

"The knights of Castle town are worthless and cowardly." He growled, a hand coming up to grab part of her hair. "They don’t dare approach me if I was in my beast form, it genuinely makes me wonder how they’d handle an actual war?"

Midna's eyes narrowed even further. "You can't go around attacking people. You're supposed to be a hero aren't you? Not some brute."

"Oh?" He asks, a faux look of curiosity on his face. "Would me being a brute go against your goals?" 

"Now you're going after me?" She scoffs, crossing her arms and legs as she stares down at him. 

"You were always strange since we met, but ever since you spoke to that fortune teller, you've been completely out of line."

"Simply because you're making assumptions about my situation-"

"Because you never talk to me!" 

"Well maybe it's because I don't WANT to talk to you! Have you ever thought of THAT?" He spat at her, struggling for the first time since being pinned to the floor. 

"You-" 

"I've done EVERYTHING you wanted me to do! EVERYTHING. I have not made a SINGLE complaint since you saved me from the cell! Not one! I think I have been a rather good 'servant' don't you think?"

He clenched his hands into tight fists.

"But it seems no matter what I do. I'm NEVER good enough for you. For ANYONE." He shakes his head, his face twisting in pain. 

"Was what I've done so bad that I have to be cursed like this? To be forced to live through it all over again? To question what’s true or fabricated in my mind?!?”

"Link-" 

"I didn't mean to!" He shouts, his voice cracking. 

"I-I...I just.." Wanted to be by Her side…

That's all he wanted. He wanted to be with Her. Hold Her. Kiss Her. 

To be granted the honor of being called Her partner, perhaps even Her everything.

Wanted to never let her out of his sight again. To take her somewhere far away and start a life with just the two of them. 

"What do I have to do to fix this?" He whispers, his head bowed. 

'Link, focus-"

"WHO DO I HAVE TO KILL IN ORDER TO WAKE UO FROM THIS DAMNED NIGHTMARE!!" He roars at her. Midna actually rears back at the unhinged look overtaking his face.

“Hey! Watch it!”

Link's words hang heavy in the air, and Midna watches as he struggles against her grip, his eyes blazing with...something..

"Let go of me," He growls, his voice barely above a whisper. "I mean it Midna. Let. Go."

Midna stays silent, hesitation flickering in her eye. 

Something was wrong. This was not how she expected this to go.

She watches as he struggles against her grip, his eyes blazing with an intensity that makes her want to keep him pinned down until whatever was happening was over.

"Link, focus," Midna tries to interject, but he talks over her.

"Let go of me..." 

"Link, I-" she starts, but he cuts her off. 

"I said let go," he repeats. 

"Damnit, you’re not ok!" She says, refusing to let him go. 

She didn't know WHAT he would do if she did. 

"Let go of me Midna..." 

"What'll happen if I do?" 

"Let me GO.." He brings his head up and lets the back of it hit the floor beneath him. 

Midna watches as Link's head hits the floor, wincing at the sound of impact. 

“Heheh…” He begins to laugh, it was not pleasant to hear, “Do I have to wake myself up? Is that how I'll return? Am I too stubborn to wake up?” 

That look in his eyes. He's not in his right mind. She tightens her hold on him.

"Link. You're not thinking straight. You need to calm down." She says firmly, trying to reason with him. 

He brings his head up, only to hit it against the floor again, harder.

“I need to wake up…they’re waiting for me…” 

The sound of Link's head hitting the floor echoes through the wide space, and Midna can't help but feel a sense of alarm. She tightens her grip on him, trying to keep him still and prevent him from hurting himself any further.

"Link, stop it!" She commands, her voice firm and authoritative.

"I need to wake up..." His voice sounds fragile, trembling as he brings his head up as best as he could and to slam it back down against the floor. “She’s unprotected…we have to protect Her…” 

(He couldn’t lose her again. He simply couldn’t.)

Midna watches in horror as Link continues to bang his head against the floor, each impact causing the sound of his head hitting the hard surface to almost echo in the open space. The scent of blood making it's appearance. 

"I need to wake up.." he repeats, desperate, as if he were on the verge of tears.

His mind overwhelmed by everything he'd be desperately pushing away since he awoke back in Ordon. 

He couldn't take it anymore. He wanted to return to his pack. He wanted to return to (y/n). 

He wanted this all to be a horrible dream. 

Midna, completely out of her depth, lifts Link away from the floor, the back of his head leaving a splatter of blood on the rough surface.

She slams him back down, causing the air to escape his lungs.

"I'm sorry Link," she says, not giving him a chance to register what's happening as she releases him and turns her hair into a fist. "But you need to calm down!" 

Link has just a moment to register what she said as her fist collides with the side of his face. 

…

….

Midna breathes a sigh of relief as Link's body goes slack, her makeshift fist leaving a rather large red mark on his cheek.

..What the hell…

 She knows that she had to do something to stop him from hurting himself, but that didn't help the twinge of guilt after hitting him. She floats down close to him, brushing his bangs out of his eyes after a few moments, checking to make sure that he's still breathing.

The dungeon is dimly lit, with faint light from outside barely illuminating the cold, stone walls. The air is thick with dust and the smell of dampness, and the noticeable sound was the distant drip of water. Link's unconscious form lies sprawled on the cold, wet, hard ground, his breathing slow and steady. Midna hovers over him, her expression a mix of concern and guilt.

"..What made you go crazy like this?" She mutters, unsure what to do. 

What a situation she landed herself in. 

…

Stuck in a damp dungeon with an unconscious frenzied hero. 

...

(Maybe she should have chosen a better spot to talk to him.) 

…

…

“This sucks..” 

—

—

"Again.” 

"What do you WANT?" Link shouts at him, his chest heaving from the exertion.

A single red glowing eye looks at him. "Your resolve has weakened to an absurd degree," he says. "You limit yourself to the boundaries that others have placed on you."

He stares up at him, panting and covered in sweat. " I have done no such thing." He protested. "I am doing everything I can."

The Shade shakes his head. "You are holding yourself back."

"No I'm not!" 

"Still such a child. Denying a truth that is always dogging your footsteps." 

"You aren't even HERE!" He screams, having finally reached his limit with the shade.

The shade said nothing. 

"This is all some fucked up dream! The real you doesn’t even recognize me!! You think I wouldn’t figure this out? That I wouldn’t be able to see through this whole thing?!? What's the point, what’s the fucking purpose of my mind placing the illusion of you before me?!? To mock me?? To constantly remind me of something that possibly didn’t happen?" 

"I may be an illusion...but your guilt isn't." 

"This is ridiculous," He sits up, his teeth bared at the spirit. "I’ve denied nothing!" 

"You are troubled. It clouds your heart." 

"Sorry to disappoint you, but you aren't the first to point that out." 

The Hero's Shade stood a few feet from him, sword held away as he watched Link. 

The Shade's gaze is intense, scrutinizing Link as he rises to a sitting position. The air around him feels heavy, almost suffocating, as if the weight of his troubles is a physical entity. Link can't help but feel a little vulnerable under the Shade's gaze, the numbness that has become all too familiar to him serving as a constant reminder of his burden.

"I won't let it get in the way of learning what you teach me." The rancher replies in a monotone manner. 

“Each time you appear before me, your resolve weakens further." The Shade says, his voice deeper, rougher than the rancher remembered. 

Then again, he spent a considerable amount of time with his more...'livelier’ self...so the young hero supposed things would have changed during the decades after. 

(Though...the Shade should have recognized him...shouldn't he? Yet he didn’t… Did that mean that everything truly was-) 

Link shook away those thoughts.

"Though that does not distract me from your current failure to focus." He steps closer to Link, slowly walking around him. 

"You’re weaker than you should be, yet still so disappointing. I’m surprised you have not been struck down by a Bublin yet due to your carelessness." Link grit his teeth, that was not a question. 

"I am...as strong as you need me to be.." 

"As I need you to be? So…you would allow another to determine your overall strength? You would cease to grow simply because another held your leash and brought you to heel?" 

Link glared up at him, but of course, the Shade was entirely unfazed.

The Hero's Shade continues to circle around Link, his intense gaze never leaving the young hero. The weight of his gaze is almost unbearable, and Link can feel himself reflexively shrinking under the pressure.

When he stands in front of Link once again, he points his sword at him. 

"Raise your sword." Was all he said to him.

The Shade's sword gleams in the light of this realm. Link tightens his grip on his own weapon, meeting his gaze. He lifts his sword as he stands, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on him. 

The Shade begins to circle him once more, this time Link matching his movements. 

"Now, attack." He commands. The young hero takes a deep breath and lunges forward, sword swinging through the air.

The Hero's Shade watches intently as Link attacks, it takes not even a few moves before Link is tossed to the ground.

 "Again," he says, his voice stern. Link obliges, rising up and lunging and swinging his sword once more. 

This time, the Shade raises his own weapon to block, the clash of metal on metal echoing in the air. "Again," he repeats as Link is once more knocked down.

Once more he rises, only to be defeated again. The Shade remains unmoved.

Link's movements become more sloppy with each loss.  Frustration taking over more and more, but the Shade remains relentless, silently commanding him to raise his sword each time. 

Link loathes the sound of his sword constantly clattering to the ground. An indication of his constant failure. 

An indication that he was weak. 

…weak…

…

No…

Nononono..

He couldn't afford to be weak. 

No. Never. 

Not when being weak means losing what matters. 

Not when it means he could lose- he couldn't lose everything else! 

He already lost his pack! Every one of them! He can't- 

He reacted before he really registered the noise, rearing his head back in surprise, dodging the sword swipe. 

"What are you doing?!?”

"You are rejecting the truth and it’s hindering you." The Shade says, his voice echoing ominously. "I wonder, how many will you abandon…as you run away?"

 "I have never abandoned anyone!" He exclaims as he dodges swipe after swipe. 

"Foolish enough to release your sword in front of an opponent. Foolish enough to deny the truths that dig themselves into your very being. Foolish enough to be led on by others like some obedient beast." 

 "What point is there to gain strength when I've lost everything already?!?"

The Hero's Shade does not pause his attacks, but does look at Link with a contemplative expression. "Strength is not just for protecting others," he says. "It is also for protecting yourself. So that you do not continue to lose what matters to you."

 "But I've already lost everything that I wanted to protect!" Link dives under a swing and rolls behind the Spirit, reaching out to grab his sword. 

But before he could get close, he stills, the cold touch of the Shade's sword pressed against his neck. 

"And it is your fault.” 

The declaration was firm, weighted, Link could feel the sharp chill of the blade against his skin. 

The Shade's voice is low and accusatory.

He should argued his point, said something to get his predecessor to stop. 

But the young hero just couldn't take it anymore. 

"It wasn't my fault!!" Link screams, his voice echoing through the training grounds. Tears well up in his eyes as he pushes the blade away with his hand, uncaring of the sharp pain it brought, his body trembling with emotion.

"I didn't mean for any of it to happen!" he repeats, his voice desperate, almost pleading. "I just wanted to keep her safe! I just wanted her to stay with us!" With me.

"You would lay the fault of your sins on your desire to protect? When you would endanger the one you sought to protect?" 

"None of us would ever hurt her." He hisses at spirit, "Not even death would be enough of a punishment suffered for such a crime." 

How many had he willingly killed for daring to threaten her safety? 

Those disgusting creatures that took the forms of man. Daring to gaze upon her beauty and attempt to stake a claim.

A claim. As if she were an item to be bought. 

Not even as he made them choke on their blood, as he wrapped his hands around their bruised necks, did the rage boiling through his veins calm. 

 "You believe that you have done what was necessary to protect her," he says, his voice softer now. "But have you considered the cost? " 

Link's eyes flash with anger and defiance. "Yes," he growls. "A thousand times, yes."

The lives he's taken, the pain he caused upon those unworthy fools- it was all worth it to keep her safe.

The Shade's gaze pierces through Link, as if trying to read his very soul. "You believe that the ends justify the means," he says, his voice filled with a strange tone of somber wisdom. "But have you considered that the means themselves may taint the end?"

Link's heart races, but he stands his ground. "I have done what I had to do," he insists. "I would do it again if it meant keeping her safe."

Keep her away from those who would harm. 

Keep her nice and safe. With them. With him. 

"Even if it meant being the cause of Her tears?" 

"...I.."

Link's mind reels as the Hero's Shade challenges him with his question. The thought of (y/n)'s tears, caused by his own hand, is almost too much to bear.

"I-I never…would never want to hurt her," he stammers, his voice filled with trembling in growing panic and despair.

The Hero's Shade studies Link intently, seeing the pain and fear in the young hero's eyes. "You say you would never wish to harm her," he says . "But sometimes, actions have consequences that cannot be foreseen.”

Link's heart races. 

"You, and those who stood beside you. You all are the reason she was lost." 

Link's shaking his head, The Shade's words cut deep, and Link struggles to maintain his composure. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart. "I don't believe that," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I won't believe that."

"Still you deny the truth.." The Hero's Shade continues, shaking his head, "You grew arrogant, drunk on the delusion that you knew what was best for her. Convinced your strength was enough to fight back the world. But in doing so, you overlooked the consequences of your actions. You caused her pain, and ultimately, you lost her."

Link's heart feels heavy, each word the Shade speaks weighing down on him.

The Hero's Shade's words hang heavy in the air, and Link can't help but feel the weight of their truth. He thinks back to the moments leading up to (y/n)'s disappearance, trying to pinpoint the exact moment where he may have gone wrong. 

His mind races as he replayed the memories, his heart aching with every image of (y/n)'s strained smiles. The exhaustion that settled around her. 

Had he truly been so blind..?

"No..." he whispers, "No..I didn't...I didn't mean to.."

"It is not my place to judge you, that duty goes to the one you harmed," he says, "I only aim to teach. To help you understand the weight of your actions. Perhaps that is the reason that your mind created my image before you.”

Link looks up, meeting the Shade's gaze. He wants to argue, to defend himself, but he can't bring himself to speak.

Link feels a lump form in his throat. He looks away, unable to meet the Shade's penetrating gaze any longer. The Shade's tone had been calm and measured, devoid of any emotion, yet his words are like a dagger to Link's heart.

 "The arrogance and narrow-mindedness of you and yours had blinded you all to the true needs and desires of (y/n). It was not your place to dictate her choices, but to support her regardless of what path she follows."

Link says nothing, tears falling down his cheeks.

“No matter how far you run, you could never escape the truth. Because you refuse to forget.” 

His tears fall to the ground, his eyes clenched shut. 

"...Cub.." He tensed, hearing the nickname only his mentor called him. 

Link slowly looked up, tears still falling. His breath caught in his throat as he looked into a familiar face. 

Once decayed and ghostly, his mentor now stood before him in all his familiar glory. His face immediately brings a wave of memories crashing down on him. Of brotherhood. 

Of trust. 

"...T..ime..?" The Hero of Time stared down at him, looking as alive as in his memories. 

"Rise and grow strong Cub." He said, an aura of calm surrounding him, holding out Twilight's sword. “Rebuild your shattered resolve.”

"Become a Sword worthy of serving our Goddess..." 

Twilight reaches out, taking his sword from his outstretched hand.

As he wraps his trembling hand around the hilt, as he did, he felt a surge of energy pulsing through him.

The last thing he saw before his vision became white, was his mentor watching him calmly.

--

--

.

.

.

The side of his face hurt as his senses returned to him. 

Opening his eyes, he immediately shuts them with a hiss from the brightness hitting them. 

"Hmph, finally awake are we?" 

 As he slowly opens his eyes again, shielding them from the light, he sees Midna, her impish face looking at him with a mix of masked concern, annoyance, and weariness.

"Took you long enough," she huffs, "Here I thought I was gonna have to finish my business all on my lonesome before you chose to wake up."

He finds himself lying on his back, the ground beneath him feeling hard and unfamiliar. His head throbs with a dull pain, and he instinctively reaches up to touch the side of his face, wincing at the tenderness. 

 As he touches his face, his fingers probe a tender area around his temple. It feels swollen and bruised. He sits up slowly, trying to ignore the spinning sensation that threatens to overwhelm him. Midna's face comes into focus as he blinks against the, to him, harsh light.

"What happened?" He ask once his head settled a bit. His voice hoarse.

Midna's impish features twist into a bitter smirk.

 "What happened?” Midna repeats his question, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Well, let's see. You lost conscious, curtesy of me thank you, after your little breakdown earlier." She pauses, letting her words sink in. "I had to drag your sorry butt all the way to this pretty spot." 

He look around, trying to get his bearings. 

 The torchlight flickers off the stone walls, creating an eerie atmosphere. As Link take in his surroundings, Midna's voice breaks the silence.

"Seriously, what was that back there?" Midna asks. "You scared the crap out of me, you know?"

Link turns to face Midna, his expression conflicted. "I'm sorry," he finally says, his voice still hoarse. "I…don't know what came over me." 

"I'll say, you went crazy!" 

 Midna crosses her arms, her smirk faltering slightly as she studies Link. "You really don't remember?" she asks, her tone softer but no less annoyed now. "You were ranting and raving about some girl and waking up... it was so sudden."

Link furrows his brow, trying to recall what happened before he lost consciousness, all he remembred was this sense of everything becoming...too much. 

 Link sighs, rubbing his forehead.

To think he'd breakdown like that. 

He really had been running from it all. 

 "You were mumbling something about 'her' not being real, and 'waking up'." She crossed her arms, "Do those words mean anything to you?"

He tenses, Midna could tell he was trying to come up with something to say. 

“Safe to say, they mean something to you.” She huffs.

 Link stays silent for a few moments, deep in thought. The dim light of the torches illuminates his face, highlighting the conflict and anxiety etched into his features. He then shakes his head, letting out a sigh. 

"...I made a mistake," he admits slowly, his voice still hoarse. "It...hurt someone very precious to me." 

"Oh?" Midna floated closer to him, "What'd you do so bad that it made you like THAT?" 

Link opened his mouth but closed it a moment after, looking away. 

 The room grows quiet once more, save for the crackling of the torches. Link's eyes lower to the ground, reflecting the guilt and regret he feels. Midna, sensing his discomfort, waits patiently for him to continue. After a few moments, Link finally speaks up, still looking away.

"I hurt her," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "We all did..." 

"..'We'?" 

He shakes his head, his mouth in a firm line. 

 Midna's eyes narrow, trying to make sense of Link's words. She cocks her head to the side, studying him carefully. "Alright, so you hurt someone you care about. But who's 'we'?"

Link's grip tightens around his phantom sword, his jaw setting. He doesn't look at Midna, instead focusing on a distant point on the floor. "It's not important right now."

 Link's response only serves to pique Midna's curiosity further. She can tell that he's holding something back, but she doesn't want to push him too hard and risk shutting him down entirely. 

Or worse, go crazy again. 

Instead, she decides to change tactics.

"Fine, keep your secrets," she says with a shrug. 

There was a moment of silence. 

“. . .So did you mean to do it?” 

“…H-Huh?” Midna tsk’d. 

“Did you. mean to. hurt your friend?” Link took a moment to register what she asked. 

“No…no I would never…” he whispered, the Twili could see his already pale skin turn a few shades whiter. 

“Well that response at least means you got part 1 down of mending things right.” She rolled her eyes at his look. 

“Let me tell you something, Link. You're not the only one who's made mistakes."

 Midna's words hang heavy in the air, breaking the tense silence that had settled over the room. Link continues to gaze at the floor, lost in thought. The torchlight flickers across his face, casting deep shadows that seem to reflect the turmoil in his heart.

"I know," he says softly, his voice filled with pain. "But this was different. For me. For us all. The results-She-we…we didn't..."

 Midna sighs,  she can tell that he's not ready to open up about it. After another few moments of silence, Midna breaks the tension again.

"Alright, I get it. You don't want to talk about it right now." She straightened up and put her hand on her hip as she floats closer to him. "But you clearly don't have the means or time to even try to fix whatever it is that's happening with you." 

He looked at her with tired eyes, and she frowned. 

"If it were me, who hurt someone I cared about..." she tapped her chin, "and I had no choice BUT to hold off on making amends...I'd at least take the time and accept that I did something wrong." 

Link sent her a questioning looking and she huffed at him.

"Well how many times have you heard someone apologize but never bothered to understand what they did wrong? Apologizing is great but it means squat if you didn't bother to figure out WHY you're in the dog house...pun intended." 

Midna's words seem to strike a chord with Link, who looks up at her with a slightly more alert expression. She can see the gears turning in his head as he considers her words. After a few moments, he nods slowly, remaining silent as he absorbs what she said. 

"Great, you finally realize a fact about yourself, “ she raises her hands up and shakes them in a Ta-da motion, “Congratulations, you’re a flawed creature.”

He blinks slowly at her, making her sigh again.

“So, if you're not gonna have a meltdown any time soon, let's get this place over with." She says, clapping her hands once and floating over to his sword and shield. 

He remained seated, eyes following her before shortly getting up. 

The rest of the dungeon was rather quiet compared to what he remembered, words only spoken when absolutely necessary. 

. . . He didn't know how to feel about it. 

—

—

The shade did not appear in his dreams anymore. 

A part of him felt relieved…to no longer be stared down by a visage of his mentor… 

Another part of him mourned the only other person who knew everything he hid. 

Even if that person was simply a construct that his mind created…

…(perhaps it was for the best…) 

—

—

He knew he should have at least announce his departure, instead of leaving a vague note on the entrance to his home. 

Link knew he would worry Colin and his family. Knew Rusl would ask around for him, only for frustration to build when no one would know where Link was. 

But he simply couldn’t take it anymore 

Everything was too much and too little. 

There was no journey to distract him anymore, no danger for him to defeat. 

No princess of Twilight to yank his attention away from his thoughts from the moment she spoke. 

What did it say about who he had become? That staring down at the corpse of Ganon, the very person who caused so much damage to the land, made Link feel nothing but disappointment. 

Midna was gone now. He hadn’t realized how much he had depended on her presence to keep him grounded. 

The land was safe once more. The people of Ordon were reunited once again. 

Returning to Ordon, returning to that small world that once had been so big to him. 

All he wanted to do was escape it. 

It had all become too much. All so very much. 

Everyone knew it. No one said anything but the rancher could tell. Could see their gazes, hated it no matter how well-meaning they were. 

Their voices, once so soothing, irked him to the point that he wanted to tear off his own ears just for total silence. 

If not his ears, then their very tongues. 

He probably would have been horrified by his thoughts, had he been who he once was. 

Even now it caused him pain. He didn’t want to look at them and feel anger. 

It pained him. (It scared him.)

It was only when he numbly contemplated harm towards the villagers that he knew he had to leave. 

He had to get out as quickly as he possibly could.  Least he gives in to those overwhelming thoughts. 

(And a part of him feared their reaction, should he breakdown in front of them just as he had done in front of Midna.) 

So he left. Quietly during the early hours, long before the sun had even begin to rise. 

A quick glance through his supplies and a gentle pat to sooth Epona and he was off. 

He knows he’ll make everyone worry. A dull sense of guilt pulsing in his chest. But it was pushed down by the sense of ‘far too much’ within him. 

All he could do was pray that wherever the path led him next, it would bring some sort of relief. 

Perhaps he would return home with a stronger resolve. Perhaps he could find peace. 

Perhaps…he could return with a smile that wasn’t on the verge of tearing itself apart…

. . .

. .

.

(…He could only really hope.)

[midwesternvibes]

Time for more Seperated Leo Human AU! (I really need a name good lord-)

As promised, we now get to look into Leon's lore! He's a funky little guy, and shockingly well adjusted!

Lore drop under the cut!

His full name is Leonardo Tomás Esposito, and he is quite proud of it! He picked it out himself when he was about 10 years old, and he's happy to say that he still loves it to this day! (Fun fact: all of the names have double meanings to them hehe)

But anyways, his Mamà is in fact, NOT Big Mama (but it was a solid guess!), her name is actually Mia Esposito! (+10 Fandom points to anyone who can guess her full first name) She is a full time nurse and used to travel around the several NYC hospitals as an on-call nurse, but once Leon was born she stuck her roots down to one and has been there ever since!

She's actually an incredibly interesting character (with her very own arc!) with a lot of depth and meaning. She grew up with her Puerto Rican mother and Italian father, but after a series of misfortunes and despair, she ended up immigrating to NYC to start a new life for herself. About 10 years later she began raising a baby all on her own as a single immigrant mother in New York City (Sound familiar?). Whenever Leon asks about his father she tells him that she doesn't remember his Papá, only that he had the same almond-shaped brown eyes as her baby boy....

But ultimately she doesn't remember him hahaha maybe Leon should stop asking questions and get back to studying!

(Leon knows that she's hiding something, but ultimately he doesn't care about his father that much, he just assumes that he did something to hurt his Mamá and wants nothing to do with the man at all)

Leon and his Mamá are very close, they're very similar to Percy and Sally Jackson from the PJO series, and they would definitely fight God for each other.

Leon was raised very much with the mentality of "It takes a village" and has many aunts and uncles and relatives in the hospital staff that he considers family. Mia couldn't really afford childcare as Leon grew up, as it often came down to food or rent for the month. The hospital staff saw this and absolutely adored little baby Esposito, so they were more than happy to raise him alongside their own children. Mia owes her life to this staff and considers them her family through and through.

As he grew up, Leon saw all his favorite people as nurses and doctors and considered each and every one of them heros. He decided very early on that he wanted to be a doctor when he grew up, and after a terrible injury when he was 14 it cemented the fact that he wanted to be a pediatric surgeon, to help kids just like him.

But the issue is, Leon and Mia definitely do not have enough to cover medical school for Leon on a single nurse's income, even with all the jobs that Mia and Leon have taken over the years. That's why Leon NEEDS the athletic and valedictorian scholarship, without it he won't be able to achieve his dream. The only thing standing in his way is.....

THE HAMATOS

(Except Michael, he's a gift)

Leon is willing to do ANYTHING to get those scholarships, but his Mamá always reminds him that the Hamatos might need it just as badly as he does, and that's about all that's keeping him from REALLY doing anything to hurt/sabotage them. His Mamá has instilled a really strict moral code into his psyche and he won't actually do anything to them, he just....really wants to give his Mamá a better life, one she deserves.

Although, he is kinda curious as to why the Hamato brothers have the same eyes as him......

First // Previous // Next

Whew! That was pretty much just a really intense ramble, sorry there was no actual structure to that, I just really wanted to talk about my Leon lore! Props to anyone who figures out the significance of all the names, and to clear up any confusion, Mia is Half Puerto Rican, half Italian, and Leon is 1/4 Puerto Rican, 1/4 Italian, and 1/2 Japanese (but shhh he doesn't know that yet) and obviously he's got that amazing vitiligo (shout out to anyone and everyone with vitiligo, y'all are amazing and beautiful)

Thanks for reading my lore dump, see ya next time for..... huh idk yet, vote ig

See ya next time!

[hyunvom]

passing notes in secrecy

synopsis: life's not that easy when you're in love with the prettiest boy who just happens to be an idol, but you'll make it, right?

cw: childhood friends to lovers, smut, idol!hyun

word count: 1,1k

In the soft hush of midnight's embrace, you tiptoed through the corridors of stardust and dreams. Your heart a symphony of secrecy and longing.

You've been with him for five months, even though you've known him your whole life, long before the world knew the crescendo of his name and fame was but a distant dream. Your stories were woven together in the tender threads of childhood's innocence. You used to be just kids, sharing stories and secrets under the benevolent shade of the old oak tree in your neighbourhood's park down the road, where the houses were all painted in a beautiful cinnamon color. You would visit each other every day, some days at his house, some others at yours. His mother would always welcome you with a huge smile painted across her face and freshly bakes cookies, always. You'd lie on the grass, or the beach sand, or the wooden floors of his room.

As your teenage years unfurled like pages in a book, your friendship deepened into something more profound. In the golden haze of sunsets and the soft whispers of wind, you found yourselves drawn together by an invisible string. He wrote a song about you one day, when he was around the age of 15 and you 14. All the unspoken words of his heart spilled into paper. With trembling hands and a courage down from the depths of his affection, he slipped the parchment into your school bag, a secret serenade to the girl who held his heart. You started dating that summer. You remember it as the best summer of your life, and the last one before you lost him.

That following fall, he embarked on a journey of trading the familiar comforts of home for the uncertain allure of a music company's door. He always wanted this, he would always talk about wanting it. And he was truly an artist. He wrote beautifully, his words always so tender and artistic, he would dance like a god, moving like water, and his voice was as beautiful and soft as one could be. You always believed in him and encouraged him to try, and never thought about what follows all this. And he got in. He made it. He made it and you lost him and yet you would not want it any other way, because the love you shared and the bond was not a common one.

He trained for two years, two years of barely seeing each other, he basically lived inside the walls of his company, practicing hard, his dancing, his singing, his rap. You met the people he would debut with once, and they were lovely. You had dinner with all 8 of them that day.

"You guys do know if we actually debut you have to like, broke up right?" the one named Jisung said.

The table fell silent and someone visibly kicked him under the table but you can't remember who it was now. Hyunjin had looked at Jisung angrily yet shocked he brought it up, like they had talked about this before and he could not believe he said it in front of me, and then just continued finishing his food while taking huge gulps of his wine.

"What do you mean? Why?" I had asked.

"It's dangerous that you're still dating now, actually. If the company finds out Hyunjin's definitely getting kicked out for not focusing on his debut. It's strict as hell, you know this" Jisung continued explaining, in a soft sorry tone.

Hyunjin had stood up and went outside. He used to smoke sometime here and there when he was really tired or stressed. You followed him outside the restaurant were he opened a new pack of cigarette and stood right next to him, reaching for his hand.

"You know.. what he's saying is true" he said. Silence on your part as you let him continue.

"If they find out it's going to be so messy, I will get in so much trouble and if something happens to me, everyone's debut gets affected, it's like a fucking domino. And eventually even if we continue this I will not have time to take care of you and be around you and you'll grow tired of me never being there cause I won't be able to and if someone ever finds out after i debut it's yet again over for my career and I put everyone at risk again. I just don't"

You stopped him, silencing the cacophony of stress with a gentle touch. Your fingertips, like whisper promises touched his face softly, and with bravery born of longing leaned in, interrupting his thoughts and anxieties with the melody of your lips pressed tenderly against his.

"It's okay" is all you said.

You broke up 2 months later.

In between the next 3 years, you watched him from afar. You got a boyfriend when you turned 19, a nice boy you met at the library where you'd spend most of your days outside of uni. You spent beautiful moments with him, you gave your v card to that boy that summer, and he was a great destruction from Hyunjin. But that's all he was, and when you realized that you felt like such an awful person. You broke up with him later that year, as Hyunjin continued to never leave your mind. But how could he? His band became a huge success. He was everywhere. On billboards around town, on the radio, all over social media. You could not escape him even if you wanted to. But you didn't mind. Seeing him thrive, even without you, brought you an absurd amount of happiness and peacefulness, knowing that he'd doing well, living his dream.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dressed as an employee with the card he specifically made secretly for you so you can easily sneak in, you slipped into the bustling company. You heart racing, as it always does during this part, pretending to be an employee to pass through doors.

You and Hyunjin found your way to each other a few months ago, when he visited home to see his parents. It was irrational and you weren't thinking, but the second his lips touched yours, as now full grown adults, things could never go back to how they were. He was even prettier now, if that's even possible. His hair was long, black. His lips still beautiful and full and so soft. His body was bigger, and harder than what you remember, probably because of his dancing. He fucked you in his childhood room that night. His hand on your mouth and other times kissing you hard to muffle your moans as his whole family was in the house.

"You have no idea how many times I've dreamed of this" he said as he laid you on his bed, getting you under the covers. He let you undress him and explore his body, taking your time with it. He was so hard under his boxers and leaking already, you palmed him through them and kissed him like this would be the last time you'll get to put your lips on his. You left comments about his size and you felt him both twitch and smirk through the kiss.

"When did you get so handsome?" you asked.

"When did you get this fucking hot" he responded.

He opened you up later that night, kissing you down the softly and eating you out hungrily, with so much skill. You wondered how many girls he's done this to, and you asked without thinking. He doesn't respond but he looks up at you while hes down there. He started inserting fingers, one by one, while continuing to play with your clit between his tongue. When you were finally ready for him he came close to your face and kissed your nose.

"I haven't done this in years. Be gentle" you tell him shyly yet in a playful tone.

"Oh so you've done this before?"

"You haven't ?"

You stare at each other for a moment, then smile.

"Now that we're here, I wish I never did, so I could do it with you" you said. And he simply said "These things don't matter to me" before kissing you again.

He let you ride him, so you could take your time and control the movements that were happening, and it's safe to say he loved being at your mercy. Your hands intertwined, sweaty foreheads, soft whimpers. He sounded beautiful. That one boyfriend you had back in the day was a nice guy, but the few times you had sex felt like a joke right now. He was silent, strict with it, forward. Hyunjin was vocal, touchy, loving, considerate. You felt like you were having sex for the first time, cause you were one way or another. At the end of the day what did virginity even mean.

When your hips got tired, he immediately noticed and started moving you up and down on him. He changed positions a few minutes later, now being on top of you. He fixed your hair that was all over your red face and kissed your hands while entering you, much harder this time. You could feel both your orgasms coming. Out of nowhere, he put his hand on your belly, and dragged yours right there a second later.

"Can you feel me. That's me baby. All of me"

Looking deep into his eyes, shocked, ears and cheeks red, you both came, as he started playing with your clit fast and then pulled out and spilled on your belly. He got up immediately after the events and cleaned you up, dressed you up in your pajamas and then got in the bed. You didn't sleep that night, not until 5am at least. You stayed up and talked. You talked about everything. Your lives, what you've been doing, how this insane life he was living is like. You told him about the boy you met that summer, and he told you he has been with someone from his company for a few months after he realized his heart does not belong there and broke things off. You asked him who the girl was, and when he answered he notice how your face dropped.

"What is it?"

"Oh I know her, shes really pretty and talented, no wonder"

"And yet you're the prettiest girl in the world and the one i cant get this stupid mind of mine to let go, all these years"

You talked about what was going to happen, and both agreed that you wanted this, even if it was risky. It was okay, his dating ban was lifted long ago, and you'd be careful, you could do this.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Sneaking in the company using your card, you finally end up on the third floor, successfully unnoticed. You always meet him here since this floor is always empty. After a couple minutes pass you hear footsteps and hide behind a trashcan, and the second you realize it's him you jump up on him and hug him. You kiss, trying to be silent, and then he takes you to a tiny room he uses to write and record music.

The space is tiny and he has never brought you here before.

"Oh. This place is tiny we barely fit in here. What do you even do here?" you ask.

"It's my little space, I come here to concentrate and write."

You move your head in understanding and then he suddenly pulls you on his knees, as he's sitting down on the one and only chair that fit this room.

"It's also soundproof"

"Oh." you smirk and kiss him, running your hands through his beautiful hair, ruining his ponytail.

Suddenly, after minutes of purely making out, he positions you directly above his knee, and starts harshly pushing up, going right under your skirt and directly hitting your wet spot.

"So warm down there, you're wet for me already baby?" as you hum in response. He keeps saying dirty, yet loving things in your ear as he's fucking you with his knee, and at some point you take control and start moving yourself. Your hands on his chest, on his shoulders, in his hair, on his neck. He fucking loves all of it, you can see it, you can hear it. After reaching a crazy orgasm, you get off of him and immediately unbuckle his belt.

"Oh love you don't have to that's fine, let it be about you only this time"

"God you have no idea how much i want you do you?" you responded and gave him singlehandedly the best head of his life. After he came down from the high of his orgasm he pulled you up and kissed you hard, yet with so much tenderness.

Being with him was definitely a challenge. Everything had to be done in secret. Behind malls and bars and late at night where only the moon and the stars could see your faces. But you wouldn't change it, not for the world, he was your own little world.

[magical-girl-coral]

Canonical evidence of every Fear and Hunger S ending in the Termina

Happy Ending

Cahara's sword in "Happy Ending" is the Sabbath sword you can find at the church. While it was said it was developed by Vatican city in the 1700s, this is also the same city that secretly did human experiences on innocent people to get closer to the old gods so chances are they were lying about this too.

If I had to guess, Cahara used his massive wealth to create weapons against creatures of the night and some of them somehow ended up in the hands of Vatican knights. Maybe one of his family members decided to start their own knighthood against monster and it massively backfired.

The true God of Fear and Hunger

While originally I was on the fence on this one thanks to ending C II, the Kaiser's flesh form was what sold me. That, and the fact that he mentions in his monologue before you fight him how he roamed the earth while out of his mind fits perfectly with Le'grade's derangement after D'arce resurrects him.

The only thing I'm bothered with is how D'arce doesn't have any hints of her existence in Termina. You'd think she'd get at least one name drop if she was the one who brought the Kaiser back from the dead.

The Enlightenment

The ending I'm the happiest is the most canon has got be Enki's just because of the lore drops we get from his skin bibles. It's interesting to note that Enki knew the God of Fear and Hunger was originally a nameless girl and that she was already a demi god thanks to her mother.

It also said that "[The God of Fear and Hunger] was the pure representation of fear and hunger, not spoiled by even a glimmer of hope", which is odd cause the player can and should bring the girl her doll and knife to make her more useful in battle and to make her feel lighter with the situation at hand.

It makes me wonder who brought the girl down to the depths if they made it obvious she was never getting out.

God of Ultra Violence

It's pretty much an open secret now that August is a descendant of Ragnvaldr thanks the cannibalism trait in his soul tree, his friendship with moonless and how the only contestant he truly open ups to is Abella, the only other person from Oldegård. I didn't even notice until I wrote this post that they both even have the exact same hair in their profiles.

It's also nice to know Le'grade is still getting his ass handed to him by a guy who not only got to get the title of a god before him, but also by the clan he build after he escaped the dungeons. Truly a massive L. We love to see it ❤.

[rathologic]

P1 Saburov and Viktor are so terribly underrated and it's such a shame because their characters are immensely interesting and way more developed beyond "evil corrupt politician" and "isolated and rich single father with much children cooler than him", which is how I've seen some people halk about them. You are doing god's work

Oh deeply... I do think there's an effect where an important part of both of their arcs as rulers is that they're rendered obsolete halfway through the game, as soon as the Inquisitor shows up and overtakes their authority. from that point on only their associated healer gets to interact with them at any depth, but both of them are also planning to die (...normal reaction to being rendered obsolete) so it's harder for their dialogue to stick outside what's most vital for quests. also since nobody plays changeling route :-(

I see victor reduced to 'wifeguy' more than 'guy with important kids' more often (and enjoy it, even partake!) but he stands out to me as having the most personal, even self-centered wants in the cast- repairing his relationships with (living) family, the wish to leave and finish his university degree; in fact I'd say victor is someone who's been deprived of the things most important to him for a long time, and is in a position where he could get them back, if he only abandoned the project of leading the Town towards utopia which the kains have devoted themselves to for the past 5 years / forever. and nina's soul is present in and tied to that project, but there is some level on which only victor remembers her as a person instead of a divine instrument- and that lends itself to the ability to grieve and move on. if victor kain walked out of pathologic I think he'd ultimately be happy, and I think he's unique among the rulers for that. but the tragedy of all of the families is that they're embedded in a town and traditions that Will Not Let Them Out

whereas saburov is like. he grew up in this town, his mother would've been a Mistress herself, the town's needs and impositions as a structure are so ingrained to him that he doesn't conceive of any selfhood or duty that Doesn't involve his role as The Saburov, putting himself on the line for everything that might befall the town. and the patterns are also so ingrained to him that he starts to think he can change or at least outsmart them. come to think of it, the whole first half of changeling route is his trying to find someone responsible for the plague, and ultimately when there is no such person he takes that responsibility onto himself but He Tries so hard first... clara's presence disrupts the balance and therefore taking her in might allow him to control the balance (and per recent discussion there's a masculinity in his need for control), except the conjectures he makes don't really apply to something completely new and unknown. and to his credit saburov loves changing his mind when presented with new information and there's a lot of guilt accumulating because of it and ultimately he gives up that control to clara, being one of few characters to genuinely grow over the course of the game. But in a way that's still symbolically equivalent with death 🙂

So they're two self-abnegating people who are the "less important" member of their ruling family and become surpassed by their daughters in the town to come, but from totally perpendicular backgrounds that cross just at this point... it's very fun that they don't get along as administrators when rulerhood is the one thing they kind of share

[spookitordukeit]

Okay it’s 1 am guys. It’s ramble instead of write time 👍

Okay okay, so about that one fic I mentioned I was writing awhile ago?? The one where Blue joins the Bad Guys(TM)?? Yeah??? Good, okay so listen

✨ A n g s t ✨

Dream is understandably Fucked Up after waking up from LITERALLY TURNING INTO STONE FOR HUNDREDS OF YEARS— waking up to a vastly different world, barren and devoid of life. Not even birds to sing in the mornings, or crickets in the nights. So yknow, man’s a little messed up. Especially with the last thing he remembers being in a massive battle with his brother and watching their universe become corrupted. Oh yeah, also Nightmare slaughtering everyone after being overwhelmed by Negativity. All good things, all good things

So he’s justifiably a little feral and traumatized when he wakes up, especially after finding the universe has become hella unbalanced in his absence, Nightmare can’t exactly handle the delicate balance on his own after all…

Ensue a borderline feral Dream, five hundred years old with only six something years of actual life experience, rushing around the multiverse and instilling as much positivity as he can, by any means necessary. He can’t be everywhere at once, so the few worlds he does come across have to become as positive as possible.

Theres so much positivity in just one universe that it burns, but it’s only a single drop in the massive and ever growing depths of ocean of negativity. It means nothing, it’s inconsequential. He has to spread more.

Meanwhile there’s Nightmare, who’s had around five hundred years to settle into his new body and powers. To settle down period. The bloodlust has waned, and he’s now aware of the careful balance that he has to help maintain in the multiverse. He’s no longer a mindless fledgling god, hellbent on revenge. He is still darkness, with a ruthlessness that simmers under the surface; but he’s had time to learn how to rein it in.

Time that his brother did not, and has not had. Nightmare is no longer the brother he once knew, he forsake that title when he went against their mother, the tree of feelings, the balance. There is nothing that can redeem him in Dream’s eyes. He was lost the moment the negativity corrupted him. The world is drawn in many beautiful shades of gray, but Dream can only see in blacks and whites.

Auugh tbc it’s 3 am…