#sky and four are probably somewhere safe

[tekikato]

Outfit Swap (kinda)

[livingund3ad]

[for the last time || в последний раз]

warnings: n/a

01. | 02. | 03. | 04. | 05. | » you are here | 07. | ... |

From the eyes of [ Red Hood ]

Roughly 19 hours before the events of  01.

Gotham’s weather during the summer was similar to a person’s unpredictable mood swings. The summer rain remained by the time Jason made it to the station. Just a fine, misting sort of drizzle that clung to his leather jacket and darkened the already grimy concrete beneath his boots. The summer heat pressed down on Gotham, heavy and humid, even as droplets pattered from the partially sullen sky.  

He shoved his hands into his pockets, eyes narrowed as he scanned the platforms. The station was bustling with morning commuters, some dodging puddles, others clutching coffee cups like it was life support. It was loud and alive, but his focus was sharp, hidden underneath the baseball cap he wore, drawn to the specific platform where he’d last seen her.  

****, with her friends—three of them, right? Two girls, one guy. They’d been laughing about something, the sound swallowed by the city noise before he could catch what it was about. Then the other two split off from them, waving off **** and the boy who was still in the train car with her. He’d only glanced their way because one of the girls’ laughter was just too damn loud. Didn’t even plan to stop and check on her. She was out with friends. A guy whom she trusted. She looked fine. Safe.  

Jason clenched his jaw, replaying the memory. Her smile had been easy, relaxed, the kind that he knew long ago, that he was familiar with.  

He made his way to the ticketing booths, then back to the platforms, eyes drifting over the signs and schedules. Tim was better at this sort of thing—tracking patterns, digging through data like a rat on speed. But Jason wasn’t an idiot. He could connect dots when he needed to.  

Seven possible stops.  

Six were probably bullshit.  

He ran them over in his head as he took the stairs down to the terminal’s lower level, his footsteps echoing against the tile.  

Fashion District—A popular shopping district, big with the college crowd. Not really ****’s scene, but maybe her friends had convinced her. Could be.

Next was Amusement Mile. Cheap entertainment, carnival games, and overpriced food. Some event going on the last couple of days, which meant swarms of children and teenagers.

Then, West End Market. Best street food in Gotham, especially at night. If ****’s friends were hungry, this was a safe bet. 

Gotham Chinatown. Spontaneous night out, maybe? It was crowded, full of energy, good food. They could've gone there shortly after the exhibit since the stop by Chinatown is the nearest. Could’ve been a last-minute plan. 

Westriver Station. Small, rundown station on the west side outskirts of Gotham, a 5 minute walk to the Gotham River. She and her friends wouldn’t have gone there at that hour. Nothing much to do, unless they had a picnic there late in the afternoon. Although he thought **** would appreciate the sunset there. Jason crossed it off as it was unlikely.

Robinson park. Quiet and green, but dead at night. It made no sense unless ****’s friends were in the mood for a walk. He crossed it off the list with a bit of contemplation.  

Cherry Hill. Pretty far off, mostly residential. Not much you can do there. Again, not ****’s usual hunt. Scratch.  

Jason scratched off Westriver Station, Robinson Park, and Cherry Hill without a second thought. So that left four.  

Fashion District got a question mark beside it. Jason could imagine her friends pulling her along after the exhibit to browse boutiques, or hit some fancy restaurant in the area. Not her scene, but she wasn’t always the one calling the shots. Could be. His gut told him West End Market was a strong possibility. **** wasn’t exactly social, but her friends might’ve dragged her along for the food. Chinatown was another solid guess. Maybe they’d wanted something different, or were killing time before heading somewhere else. It was also the nearest area they could've gone to after the art exhibit at Paris island.

He glanced down at his phone, eyes hovering over the group chat he'd been forced to unblock. The messages stacked up—Tim and Dick had been busy searching every lead they could think of, with the latter throwing out theories like confetti every 5 minutes. Jason grunted, reluctantly swiping up to unmute the damn chat. He wasn’t interested in their back-and-forth, but information was information.  

He hovered a moment longer before exiting the chat. That’s when he saw ****’s message, a few months old, sitting there like a decor on top of a shelf that accumulated dust and spiderwebs, only to be cleaned once in every five years.

He remembered the messages. Had read each one once before and pretty much ignored them. The old man would’ve given him some lecture about being better, about building bridges or whatever bullshit he liked to spew. But Jason had his own way of doing things. Cutting himself off from the rest of them was part of that.

Except her.

She hadn’t been blocked, not like the rest of them. Neither had Alfred. Maybe because Jason couldn’t bring himself to silence them entirely. Maybe because he never really expected them to reach out anyway.

Jason’s grip tightened around his phone, frustration boiling beneath his skin. He should’ve paid more attention last night. Should’ve trailed her, just in case. Instead, he’d dismissed her as just another Gothamite enjoying a rare night out with friends. Maybe he should've taken that as the warning sign. That no matter how many people you have with you at night in this city, something can still happen. It was his mistake that he thought he could trust this place with a girl like her.

Now they say she was gone. Missing. And he was unfortunate enough to be the last one to see her.  

He looked back at his list. Three crossed off. Four left.

But there was something about Westriver that itched at the back of his mind. Maybe it was the proximity to the river—she could've gone painting the scenery there. But who paints in the middle of the night? It seemed somewhat possible that she dragged along her friends there.

Either way, he didn’t like the thought of **** getting anywhere near the place. He’d heard of the rumours of people disappearing in the area, never to be found.

“Dammit.” Jason swore under his breath and fired off another text before jamming the phone into his pocket.

Insomniac would get the footage. Dick would try to think like ****, or what she knew about her. The gremlin would… probably just bitch about all of it. He didn't even want to think about him.

Jason was going to follow her trail. And he was going to find her. He has to, since he’s got no other choice.

Taglist: @kneelforloki @shycreatorreview @pearlyribbons @homeless-clown @daffy-the-duck @1abi @reeyy0-2 @ryuushou @nisarelle @cssammyyarts @bunniotomia @cxcillia @unrelatedlily @the-holy-pigeon

A/N: Heya everyone!!! Thank you for making this far on the fic. I just want to let you know that while I'm aware some areas in this fic don't exist in cannon, I just made it so that way it's much easier to understand where the general area is located on the overall map(like Gotham River being located at the West of Gotham, hence the moniker Westriver). Also, trains aren't really my thing(I do love making things for myself harder huh) and that's probably bc the transpo system in the country I live in is so shitty I rarely travel thru trains and just bs-ed my way through this chapter. This fic also occurs somewhere along late 2000's - early 2010's so you can expect some references and maybe some inaccuracies. Means that the batfam is a little bit behind in terms of tech(nerfed them a little bit ik please don't be mad). Lastly, incoming content for a long, overdue 100+ followers soon! Love y'all lots lovelies and lads, tysm for the support🤍🎀.

[annaswrites00]

We Probably Shouldn’t - Kimi Antonelli

Kimi Antonelli x Rory Bearman (OC)

(3.4k)

Chapter Six

Chapter Five, Chapter Four, Chapter Three, Chapter Two, Chapter One

Summary - Kimi and Ollie’s sister start something they probably shouldn’t…

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The lights around the paddock had dimmed, trading their earlier harsh brightness for something gentler — amber-toned floodlights casting long shadows across the pavement, distant trucks rumbling like the night was slowly swallowing the last scraps of noise.

Rory walked along the fence line behind the motorhomes, camera slung at her side, fingers flexing idly around the grip. The quiet here was different — not empty, but softened. Distant voices drifted from somewhere near the hospitality units, muffled by canvas and distance. Overhead, the sky was turning that bruised, velvet blue that came just before full dark.

She stopped near the far edge of the lot, toes scuffing the gravel, and looked up.

The Ferris wheel lit up the horizon beyond the circuit — a halo of red and white, slowly spinning in the distance. It looked like something from another world entirely, almost too dreamy to belong to the same place that had been vibrating with engine heat and radio static just hours ago.

Rory raised her camera to her eye. Adjusted her settings. Waited for the wheel to hit just the right angle.

Click.

The shutter broke the hush like a whisper.

She shifted her weight to get another angle — and her grip slipped.

Not badly. Just a clumsy fumble as the strap caught against her jacket sleeve. The camera jerked forward, heavy and off-balance, lens tilting toward the concrete.

It never hit.

A hand closed around the strap in midair — clean, efficient, like it had always known it was needed.

Rory startled, blinking as Kimi straightened up beside her, her camera now safely caught in one palm.

“Your fast,” she said lightly, offering a look.

Their fingers brushed again in the exchange — not dramatic, just brief and solid, like punctuation at the end of a familiar sentence.

“Kind of my job.”

She looked up at him, camera settling against her ribs again. He was backlit by the floodlights strung along the fence — face half in shadow, eyes reflecting gold, mouth set in that steady, unreadable line that never quite gave her enough.

So she raised the camera and took the shot.

Click.

He didn’t flinch this time. Didn’t duck his head or ask what she was doing. Just watched her through the lens like it was nothing.

“You’re getting bold,” he said, not quite teasing.

“Just curious,” she murmured. She checked the screen — not perfect, but something about the blur made it better. He was a little out of focus, all soft edges and warm light, like a memory caught before it had time to harden.

Kimi tilted his head. “Let me see it.”

She hesitated a second — just a beat — before angling the screen toward him.

He looked.

Didn’t say anything right away. Just studied the image for a long moment, something unreadable flickering in the way his brows pulled in ever so slightly.

“That one…” he said, voice quiet now. “You can keep.”

She blinked. “I wasn’t going to delete it.”

“I know,” he said simply. “But you keep them separate. The ones that you like. I saw the folders while you were editing on your laptop."

Rory froze.

It wasn’t accusatory. Wasn’t even a question.

It was just… true.

She did keep them separate. The real ones. Not for Instagram, not for the team folders or Ollie’s manager or the photo dumps she sometimes sent around after a race weekend. The personal ones lived somewhere else. A folder on her desktop with no label, just a string of numbers and letters only she understood.

Kimi was in more of them than she realized.

She wet her lips. “You don’t mind?”

He shook his head, slow and certain. “No.”

She waited. Wondered if that was it. If he’d nod once and walk off like he always did, like he hadn’t just quietly unspooled her heart with a five-word sentence.

But instead, he leaned against the fence beside her, hands tucked in the pockets of his hoodie, gaze flicking out toward the spinning Ferris wheel in the distance.

Rory didn’t move.

They stood like that for a long while — side by side, not touching, not speaking — just breathing the same slow, cool air while the paddock behind them gradually fell asleep.

She didn’t take any more pictures.

She didn’t need to.

That one was enough.

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The sun was barely up when Rory stepped out into the paddock.

Suzuka looked different in the morning light — quieter, stripped back. The chaos hadn’t woken up yet. The air still smelled faintly like rubber and dew, the asphalt cool under her boots, shadows long and blue around the corners of the hospitality units.

Her breath puffed out in small clouds. Spring hadn’t quite made up its mind whether it was staying.

She pulled her hoodie sleeves down over her hands and moved slowly toward the Mercedes motorhome, camera bag slung over her shoulder more from habit than intent. She wasn’t even sure she’d use it this morning. Her thoughts were too tangled.

She hadn’t slept well. Not in a bad way — not restless or anxious — just… full. Like her brain kept replaying tiny loops of last night, that half-second moment when their fingers had touched again, the way Kimi had looked at her photo like it wasn’t just a picture.

He said, “You can keep it.” And he meant it.

That was the part that kept catching in her chest.

She rounded the corner near the motorhome and stopped short.

Kimi was already there.

Sitting on the steps outside the entrance, hoodie zipped halfway up, coffee in one hand, phone in the other. His cap was tugged low over his brow again, but the morning light caught on his profile — all clean lines and calm stillness. Like someone had drawn him into the landscape with purpose.

He looked up as she approached.

Didn’t startle, didn’t straighten. Just took her in with that slow-burn gaze of his, like he had all the time in the world.

“Morning,” he said.

Rory felt something stupid and fluttery lodge behind her ribs.

“Hey,” she murmured, hugging the strap of her camera bag closer.

He nodded toward the steps. “You want to sit?”

She hesitated, then nodded, settling beside him with just enough space to be polite, but not so much it felt like she was pulling away.

The early silence stretched between them — soft, but not awkward. Like white space between verses.

“You always up this early?” she asked, voice still scratchy with sleep.

“Only on days that matter.”

She glanced at him, brows arching. “You’re not nervous, are you?”

Kimi smirked faintly into his coffee cup. “You want the honest answer?”

Rory grinned despite herself. “Obviously.”

He tilted his head. “Not nervous. Just… focused. There’s a difference.”

She nodded, watching the way his thumb tapped lightly against the paper cup — rhythmic, steady.

“Is this your version of pre-race meditation?” she teased.

He shrugged. “Better than being stuck inside with cameras in my face.”

She snorted. “Touché.”

A quiet beat passed.

Then — like it was nothing — Kimi said, “You didn’t post the photo. In your free practice dump."

Her heart lurched.

Rory turned her head slowly toward him. “You checked? You follow my camera account?”

“I do.”

She searched his face, but it gave her nothing. Just the same composed steadiness — except his eyes. His eyes were watching her a little too closely.

“I wasn’t going post it,” she said carefully. “It didn’t feel like something to share. Wanted to keep it for myself.”

Kimi nodded once, eyes dropping to his coffee again. “Good.”

Another beat.

Then, quietly: “I liked it.”

Rory’s throat felt tight.

She looked down at her lap, fidgeted with the zipper on her hoodie. “I don’t take many of people like that. When they’re not expecting it.”

“You should,” he said simply. “You catch things most people miss.”

The words landed like something important, something heavier than just a compliment.

Rory swallowed. “Thanks.”

They fell into silence again, but this time it buzzed with something closer to a charge.

Then Kimi turned his head toward her, that half-smile ghosting over his lips. “You always fumble your camera, or is that just when I’m around?”

She groaned, head tipping back. “God, don’t start.”

He laughed softly — barely a sound, but it warmed the space between them like sunlight.

Rory bumped her shoulder lightly against his. “Don’t get cocky.”

“I’m a racing driver,” he said, amused. “That ship sailed a long time ago.”

They sat like that for another few minutes — shoulder to shoulder, toes brushing the edge of shadow, everything slow and still and strangely intimate for a pre-qualifying morning.

Eventually, a call came from inside the motorhome — muffled but unmistakable. One of the engineers, probably.

Kimi sighed. Drained the last of his coffee and stood, stretching the stiffness from his legs.

He turned back toward her, pausing.

“Wish me luck?” he asked.

Rory stood too, brushing her hands off on her thighs. “You don’t need it.”

He looked at her for a moment — long, unreadable — then nodded once and stepped backward toward the door.

Just before disappearing inside, he added over his shoulder:

“Still wouldn’t mind hearing it.”

And then he was gone.

Rory stood frozen for a moment, heart thudding too hard.

Then, soft and to no one at all, she whispered, “Good luck, Kimi.”

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The air still pulsed with the leftover adrenaline of qualifying — the paddock moving in quick, purposeful strides. But Kimi wasn’t. He stood near the garage barrier, half in shadow, suit peeled down to his waist, the arms knotted loose around his hips. His fireproof top clung to his frame, the fabric thin and sweat-dark at the collar.

He looked overheated and underwhelmed. Like a match that had flared and sputtered too fast.

Rory spotted him from a distance — all sharp lines and unreadable expression — and made her way over before she could talk herself out of it. The closer she got, the more she could see it: the twitch in his jaw, the tension coiled just beneath the surface.

“You okay?” she asked gently.

Kimi didn't look at her right away. Just took a sip of water, throat working, gaze locked somewhere in the middle distance.

“Had more in it,” he muttered. “Lost the rear into Spoon. Pushed too hard on entry.”

She didn’t need the telemetry to hear the frustration in his voice. It wasn’t loud, but it was tight. Controlled. The way you clench your fists in your pockets instead of punching something.

Rory stepped in beside him — not quite shoulder to shoulder, but close. Close enough to feel the heat rolling off his skin. Close enough to know he noticed.

“Still strong,” she offered, voice low.

Kimi finally glanced her way, and something in his gaze lingered a little too long. “Strong isn’t fast.”

“You’ll be fast tomorrow,” she said, and meant it.

He didn’t reply. Not with words. But the corner of his mouth twitched, barely there. Like something inside him softened for a second.

Rory adjusted the strap of her camera, fingers moving out of habit more than purpose. But Kimi’s eyes tracked the motion — slow and deliberate.

“You’re gonna take another one, aren’t you?” he asked.

She paused. “Do you want me to?”

He didn’t answer right away. Just let his eyes sweep over her slow enough that she felt it. Like he was weighing something.

Then: “Yeah. Go ahead.”

So she stepped back, raised her camera, and focused.

He didn’t pose. Didn’t look away either. Just stood there — flushed from the run, hair damp under his cap, chest rising and falling like the engine hadn’t quite cooled yet.

She took the photo.

It clicked between them like a lock sliding into place.

“You’ll keep that one too?” he asked, quieter this time.

Rory hesitated. Then nodded. “Yeah. I will.”

Kimi shifted slightly, just enough that their arms brushed. Not by accident. Not this time.

Her breath caught.

Something shifted between them in the pause that followed. Not loud, but loud enough — the hum of tension threading tight in the silence. Their gazes met again and held.

Rory swallowed. “You make it hard not to.”

He raised a brow. “To what?”

“To leave you out of the ones I save.”

She could not believe she had just admitted that.

His smile wasn’t really a smile — it was more like a crack in the mask. Brief, crooked, and far too effective.

“You could just admit you like looking at me.”

“Don’t push it,” she said, but the words lacked heat. Her voice had gone soft again. Breathier than she meant it to.

He leaned a little closer, just enough that she felt it — the whisper of space collapsing between them. He leaned down close enough to whisper in her ear.

“I’m not pushing,” Kimi murmured. “Just noticing.”

And then, like nothing had happened at all, he took another sip of water and stepped back, turning his face toward the garage as someone called his name.

But before he left, he tipped his head toward her and said — voice lower, laced with something that might’ve been a promise:

“You’ll be around later?”

Rory nodded slowly. “Yeah. I’ll be around.”

He gave a half-smile — one of the rare ones, the kind that hooked itself into the pit of her stomach — and then disappeared back into the crowd.

Rory stood there a little longer, heart thudding against her ribs, her camera warm against her side.

She scrolled back to the photo.

He wasn’t smiling in it. But god, he didn’t have to be.

It was all there anyway.

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Rory found him behind the garage, tucked out of view from the usual chaos. His gear off, changed into a pair of shorts - no shirt - towel around his shoulders, he had a water bottle in one hand, jaw tight, expression locked somewhere between exhausted and pissed off.

She hovered for half a second before stepping closer.

“P6,” she said softly, just to say something.

Kimi didn’t look at her. Just took a drink, slow and deliberate. His neck moved with the swallow, the hollow of his throat flexing. When he finally spoke, his voice was rough. Bare.

“Yeah.”

Rory raised her brows. “You're not happy with that?"

That earned a glance, at least. Sharp and sidelong.

"I just know I can do more." He stated.

She leaned against the rail beside him, a careful distance. Still not quite immune to him.

“Do you always stand around shirtless when you're in a mood, or is this a special occasion?”

He glanced down at himself, then back at her — unbothered. “Hot.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

The heat between them wasn’t just from the sun anymore. It had shifted — slow and crawling. His eyes held to hers for a second too long. She looked away first.

“You’re staring,” he said.

“No, I’m—" She stopped herself. “Okay. Maybe.”

Another beat of silence stretched between them, taut and uncertain.

“You want me to leave?” she asked.

“No.” He didn’t even think about it.

She laughed under her breath — too aware of how her arms had started to fold across her chest, a subconscious brace.

“You’re grumpy.”

He gave a dry huff. “You’re nosy.”

“You like that I am.”

Kimi looked at her again — not the casual kind of look. This one felt heavier, like he was trying to decide something.

“I like that you show up, you come find me,” he said finally. “Even when I don’t ask.”

“I don’t need an invitation,” she said, a little sharper than she meant it.

“No,” he said, “but I’d give you one.”

That stopped her cold for a second. Not the words — the way he said them. Like he wasn’t teasing. Like he meant it.

And just as the silence turned into something almost too much to hold—

“Oi,” came a familiar voice from behind them. “You two hiding back here to talk about tire compounds or what?”

Ollie.

Rory stepped back quickly, as if burned. Kimi didn’t move. He just shifted his body slightly, not away from her — but enough to re-center.

Ollie jogged up, helmet still in hand, oblivious as ever. “Man, I’m starving. You guys coming out or what?”

“Eventually,” Rory said, too fast.

Kimi didn’t answer.

Ollie looked between them, confused for a blink. Then shrugged. “Cool. I’ll grab you something if you’re not out by then.”

“Yeah,” Rory said. “Thanks.”

Ollie clapped Kimi on the back and wandered off, whistling.

Silence slipped back between them, stretched thinner now.

Kimi didn’t look away. “He really doesn’t see it.”

“See what?” she asked quietly.

“That I’m not exactly being subtle.”

Her heart thumped once, too loud in her chest.

“I noticed,” she said.

He stepped closer then — not enough to touch, but enough that it made her pulse jump.

“Good,” he murmured.

And then, just like that, he pulled back — slow, deliberate, letting the moment settle, heavy in the air.

“I’ll see you later,” he said, voice low, eyes still lingering on her mouth like he was already thinking about it. "Back at the hotel?"

She didn’t trust herself to say anything. So she just nodded.

And watched him disappear into the garage without looking back.

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Thanks for reading!!!

ʚ🧸ɞ˚ ʚ🧸ɞ˚

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

Can I ask your thoughts on the boys and their favorite date ideas?

Ask and ye shall receive <3

Masterlist

Time: Forest dates to the MAX. Time grew up in the Kokiri forest, so he's definitely a bit biased in that regard, but decently old-school in terms of ideas. Loves long romantic walks while talking about nothing in particular, specifically when it's either a little later or earlier in the day because he's a secret sucker for watching the sun rise/fall. It keeps him Hylian.

Twilight: The type to randomly pull up in a horse-drawn carriage and offer you his hand like some kind of far-away prince (of our hearts!!!!). Like a good country lad, wolf boy pulls his full weight for any and all occasions, especially anniversaries, birthdays, or other miscellaneous romantic holidays.

Wild: Another forest date enjoyer, except his idea of a romantic getaway is pulling you, blindfolded, through the foliage while chattering about something or other. Astonishingly, the kidnapping vibes only enhance the mood. Definitely prepares a three-course meal that he procures from some random tree while you watch in awe, so prepare to be constantly surprised and concerned on dates with him!

Legend: Orchard dates anyone? Bunny boy has two things he's proud of: you and the orchard he's been maintaining for decades. Loves to make a day out of it too, where y'all pass the time doing various maintenance tasks and occasionally making out against a tree. Will bake an apple pie for you if he finds out you like it, then pretend to have no idea why there's a literal fucking pie cooling on the windowsill while wearing oven mitts and an apron.

Four: Plans dates down to the last minute because he just wants it to be perfect. Loves nature walks because he gets to see the Minish, and if you're close enough, he might even shrink you both to visit one of their villages.

Green: Takes chivalry very seriously, so expect surprise flower gifts and offerings of baked goods at least once a week. May also attempt to serenade you by learning some random instrument, though the rate of mastery varies. It's okay. We still love him.

Blue: Contrary to some of the others, Blue actively thirsts for your participation in his craft. He's not going to make you do any of the smithing, but his heart would definitely explode if you sat down in the "safe" corner of the forge while he was working just to hang out and chat.

Red: Anything and everything. He's got romance locked and loaded like a gun, so prepare to be quite literally whisked into his arms one day to do some innocuous activity that leaves both of you even more in love with each other.

Vio: A serial enjoyer of library dates. Probably has a little notebook stashed somewhere with so many ideas it'll make your head spin.

Warriors: Doesn't do public dates often purely because he's got the what can only be described as the hyrulean paparazzi stalking his every move, which tends to kill the romance a bit. That being said, he's not above putting on some generic clothes and pretending to be a fisherman from Lurelin, if only so the two of you can experience a consensual slice of daring <3

Sky: Like Hyrule, bird boy is a serial believer than anything can be a date if you look at it right, so prepare to be wooed every second of your relationship. Plays his harp near-constantly in your presence, and I'll eat my laptop if his loftwing Crimson isn't practically glued to your side. The type to sleep in on your anniversary, then reveal that he's planned an entire cruise-worthy itinerary with the determination of a Bond villain and charm of Hylia herself.

Wind (platonic): Anything that involves sailing is his jam, but can also be enticed into making (grandma's) stew if he's exposed to puppy eyes for long enough. Will absolutely teach you how to catch the most fish or pickpocket anyone under the sun, so every minute spent with him is well worth it <3

Hyrule: Fairy boy likes to keep things on the down-low on account of the literal cult hunting him down, but that doesn't mean he won't show you a great time. Lives and breathes by the saying that anything can be a date if you look at it right, so expect lots of impromptu romantic moments while running from bloodthirsty bitches or trudging through the market in search of that one item.

Dark Link: Probably doesn't do traditional dates because he's, yanno, public enemy number one, so prepare for a lot of couch snuggles and random gifts appearing around the house like the offerings of an overactive cat. That being said, he's a secret enjoyer of reading dates, so pull up a chair and a book and he'll be over the blood moon.

First: A literal knight in shining armor when it comes to dates. Will randomly show up at your house like the perfect gentleman with a bouquet of flowers, only to take you on a romantic walk or reveal that he's actually interacted with people to secure dinner reservations. Has the best table manners in the entire chain.

[idkhoworwhytell]

Can these boys take a bath?!

Right around 1k words, no warnings, the ‘   ‘ are meant to represent thoughts!

These men take a while to pack up. Something i've noticed from these men so far from what i've observed, they all seem to hail from somewhere similar. ‘I wonder if this is some big family tree it would make a whole lotta sense.’   “Were leaving!” the old man i guess that's what they call him ‘wonder if he gets offended by that i know mine would.’ finally announced that were were leaving, by the looks of it all of these people are well seasoned travelers, prepared for a chunk of walking for hours. Although, the presumed youngest ‘if warriors hasn't spilled my age yet, shouldn't have told him that.but i've checked to make sure i look way older. They aren't getting my real age outta me. Might have to find a way to keep him quiet.’ Wind was wearing something to Peter Pan's shoes, not meant for walking but something to cover your feet till you soon take them off. ‘Maybe I'll look into getting him a pair of boots as a peacemaker.’  As we started to walk I  noticed I was closely followed by the rancher of the group 'what happens when two people have the same upbringing in different worlds?’  I kinda expected him to wear the cowboy boots, not legend. ‘kinda and egotistical name I'd say.’ it seemed that the others kinda just fell in line everyone just walked beside another. I was next to sky and wars, and still, followed  by twilight. ‘Kinda reminds me of a herding dog.’ Of course time was up front, wild, and four at his side, and it seemed  all the others just blended in. walk , walk, and then more walking. Wild and hyrule keep seeming to wander off ,I would if I wasn't surrounded! Can't these people get the hint they smell! Like pulling my scarf up to my nose and holding there wasn't enough hint. There was a river back there they should've used! There's this wonderful thing  called deodorant. Perfume or cologne would do them some good too, no more natural musk, they stink. Clearly they haven't been introduced to it yet.  ‘Ooooo berries. I drift my way around these people only to be grabbed by my scarf and dragged back.  “ I just want a berry!” “For all we could know you could’ve been wandering off to leave. Plus you don’t know if these things are poisonous.” “ For  one they aren't, two this is literally my world-“ I was cut off with  a glare.  it seems he wasn’t very appreciative of my sass  mouthing .  Meh he’ll get over it. I’m getting my berries, this man can grab my scarf all he wants.  It seems a Couple people noticed my failed attempt, I get a couple of harsh stares. I'm starting to get real tired of these people and I’ve just met them. It seems that hyrule seems to read my thoughts and snuck me a berry. Only reason I would eat one is because I know they aren’t poisonous. ‘This is still my time for the goddesses sake!’ But nooo, I’m trapped by stinky men.  (I think I’ve made that point clear, But you need to understand how much they smelled.) ‘oh yea I’ll make sure I thank hyrule later, he kinda reminds me of a fairy, he smells of sugar and magic..’ ‘ was it iron or silver they can’t touch? Best to take off both if I want to be around him just in case till I find out. If my theories right of course, but I’d still rather be safe.’

Step Step  And another step One foot in front of the other.  And another one. ‘I’m starting to get uncomfortable. I don't enjoy being followed so dutifully.’ Ooo yay lunch time, I’ve heard how wild is a good chef. ‘ I wonder if I can share some recipes with him, wonder what kinda twist he can add with it?’  Oops people are talking I should probably listen ‘ooo sparkly’ nevermind their talking about monsters. I just fight them and move on. This dink guy is a lizard? That means he’s weak to cold temperatures right? Actually that plan won’t work Because  by the looks of it most of these people are looking like they're gonna die by a slight breeze. ‘Put some pants on, do yourself a favor!’ I’d kill anything to be in the snow right now, this climate is too much for me.  “We’re going to probably switch soon.” I can’t quite differentiate that voice yet, but by shift they mind portals right? “It’s likely , I think we have what we were sent for” that was warriors, I could tell that semi posh accent in his voice. Oh they’re talking about me. “I want to go back to the ranch!” ‘That reminds me to get him some boots.’ Moving my head a bit, ‘and some socks the blisters must be insane!’  I could see a couple of the others agree with his statement. It seems as if time and twilight have some familial bond, I could feel both of their yearning to visit.  ‘Bet times loving the extra hands to help around.’ I caught myself wanting to visit too, I just met these people and I’m sorta getting attached? The idea of something so familiar to my upbringing, in an unfamiliar place seems odd, but comforting in a sense.  Huh, they weren’t lying, the smell of the food is quite exquisite. It smells like a sloppy Joe sorta, just stew form. (odd way to describe but carry on. There looks like there’s a wood worker in the group, all the bowls seem to be in similar design, some with their own twists. Same story with the sliver ware.   ‘ for being descended from the same soul, everyone seems to be very different from another. ‘ ‘They sorta remind me of a puzzle..’  I think I remember a quote like that when I was younger, ‘strength lies in differences, not similarities.’ Despite being so alike, everyone of these boys have their differences, making them stronger than they would be alone.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

For the prompts:

Eepy time for eepy Time? Time getting pillow piled? Heck, Time getting cuddle piled? Big brother Everyone? Baby brother Time?

Adventuring was such a strange mix of emotions.

When Time had been little, the thought of adventure had consumed him. He'd wanted to go explore the Lost Woods, he'd wanted to fight monsters and find his fairy companion. After his journey and fight against Ganondorf, adventuring was all he had left.

But once he'd settled with Malon... adventuring still had its pull on him, and he enjoyed it. Truly, he did. And it was an honor to fight for others and protect everyone.

But by heaven did he miss just being home.

It usually took about three days for it to really hit him. He was still a victim of the excitement of setting out for somewhere new, after all, and so the first day or so he would be fine with his new journey. But by the third or fourth day, he'd miss the warmth of his bed, the embrace of his wife, the sound of her singing, the laughter from his father-in-law, the purring of the barn cat, the sound of hooves and mooing and neighing. He missed all of it.

He missed the company. He missed his family.

This journey was a little different, he supposed. He'd never had so many traveling companions, and one of them was family. But he was in charge here, and he had to keep them all safe. It didn't quite hold the same comfort to it.

Yawning, Time stretched and tried not to think about it too much. They'd just left Lon Lon Ranch a few days ago, so he knew the ache was hitting him, but he had to focus.

It was hard to focus when he was so tired, though.

Time huffed somewhat irritably. He was certain he wouldn't have felt this drained when he was younger. Then he huffed again. It wasn't like he was that old. Not physically, at least. He just felt old sometimes.

Time yawned again and scowled at himself for the gesture. Stop that.

"Old man, I think you need a nap."

The words were good natured coming from Wild, but Hyrule snickered, elbowing Legend and commenting that Time truly was old. The eldest Link huffed a little, amused and mildly annoyed, but he just waved a dismissive hand. "Probably so. Let's set up camp, though."

He let Warriors delegate tasks to the group, assisting Wind with gathering firewood. When the little sailor tried to carry more wood than his infinitely larger and stronger predecessor, it didn't go unnoticed.

Honestly. Being older didn't make him decrepit, for Farore's sake. The gesture was sweet and endearing, but slightly exasperating. When Hyrule joined them and Wind very helpfully pointed out that their leader was tired and they should carry most of the wood, Time finally just picked up both heroes, wood piles and all, by the back of their tunics, letting them squirm and wiggle as they protested their predicament.

Twilight laughed as the three reentered the camp. The gauntlets Time wore made the boys' weight essentially nothing, but he still felt even more drained nonetheless.

This was definitely just him being homesick. That and the fact that the hadn't slept well the last few nights.

Well. Probably that more than anything. But he did miss home.

Time glanced at Twilight, smiling at him as the rancher corralled the now grumpy Wind and still cackling Hyrule towards the fire pit Four had made. He could hear Malon's laughter in the man's own, and it warmed his heart.

And then he yawned again.

All right, this is just ridiculous.

Giving up, Time waved off Wild's question about dinner, heading for a corner to unpack his sleeping gear and take off his armor. He noticed Sky had already nodded off, having been in the process of unpacking his own things and just slumped over them instead. How that boy was ever comfortable in any of the places he passed out was beyond Time.

Oh, to be young, he supposed. He could curl up anywhere in his youth and wake up fine. Nowadays if he sneezed wrong he'd pop something.

Well. Youth was fleeting, and time was cruel. There was no point lingering on the matter.

Time plopped down next to Sky, unfolding his bed roll. The boy didn't stir, snoring lightly into his own bedroll that was halfway pulled out of his adventure pouch. The elder Link felt a twinge of sympathy for the exhausted teenager, opting to help get the boy's blankets unpacked so he could rest in a more comfortable position. That would imply he had to wake him up, though.

Well, maybe he should just leave him be. Sky's sleeping habits were all over the place, but the boy made do well enough.

Time yawned for what felt like the hundredth time that day, and he carefully removed his armor. Rubbing his face, he pinched the bridge of his nose, just standing there a moment and trying to muster up the energy to unpack everything. Honestly, he was fine just sleeping on the ground at this point.

He heard movement, and he glanced over to see Sky awake, groggily unpacking Time's sleeping items instead of his own.

"Sky," Time called softly, trying not to laugh at the addled teenager. "Wrong bag."

Sky paused, confused a moment, and then laughed, shaking his head. "No, no, I meant to. You look tired. I just... wanted to help a little. I promise I didn't go through your stuff, your mat is beside you bag."

Time stared at him a moment, and Sky halfheartedly backed away a little, misreading the man's naturally stern gaze. The elder hero was about to reply when Warriors walked up behind them, chuckling.

"Sky, you're such a mother hen," the captain commented. "I'm pretty sure the old man can do it himself. But I brought you both some water since you didn't refill your supply."

It was amazing how little escaped the captain's notice. Time gratefully took the water skin provided to him, settling on the ground beside Sky, who relaxed a little at the proximity.

Twilight joined them soon after. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Time answered. Honestly, while Warriors kept tabs of everyone in a more tactical manner, Twilight was far fussier. It reminded him of Malon again, and he felt his heart both ache and soften. "Just a little tired."

Wind skipped over, plopping his own supplies down beside Time. "You're not sick, are you? I feel like you're not usually this sleepy."

Time sighed. All this attention was getting to be too much, but it was endearing nonetheless.

Legend wandered over silently, settling close by and pulling out some mending project he'd been working on. It looked like Four's undershirt - it probably was, as the boy had torn it in the skirmish they'd had yesterday.

"I wonder if we'll see Wolfie," Hyrule noted as he made his way over to the group, still armed. "I kind of miss him. He was good at alerting about danger."

"I still wish I could hug him," Wind grumbled. "He's so soft, but he's so grumpy!"

"He's not grumpy," Twilight huffed, and Time laughed. "He just doesn't like being coddled. He's a wolf, not a puppy."

It was probably the sleepiness, but Time found himself overly sentimental. "There's always a little bit of pup left."

Twilight watched him a moment, annoyance gone, eyes a little wide with gentle surprise. He softened slowly, making his way over to Time and sitting down beside him. Time was distracted, watching his descendant, and he missed that Warriors and Sky finished setting up his sleeping arrangements until the captain started walking back towards the fire. Time turned to thank Sky, at least, and found the young knight already passed out over his partly unpacked roll once more.

How...? Time shook his head, outright laughing quietly at the kid's antics, and elbowed Twilight. "Help that poor boy, will you?"

Twilight laughed too, nudging Sky gently. Wild came next, a bowl of warm stew in hand, quietly but earnestly waiting for Time's approval as he ate it. When Time gave him a warm smile and nodded his head, the cook brightened immensely, heading back to get another bowl.

Dinner was usually spent around the campfire, but this time all the boys meandered to Time's corner. The conversations were quiet, and it took a solid hour to convince Hyrule to finally put his sword down, but eventually Time found himself unable to keep his eyes open. Sky leaned against him, steadily falling asleep, and it was somehow the last little push his body needed to shut down.

Time awoke in the middle of the night, neck aching a little from leaning against the tree as he was, his head plopped over Sky's. He couldn't escape his predicament, though, as he found himself completely surrounded. Wind was using his legs as a pillow alongside Four, Twilight was in wolf form curled up on his left side with Wild snuggled in his fur, Hyrule had settled a step away from the others, curled around his sheathed blade, Legend was at his back, eye mask on and snoring, hand ghosting against Time's tunic.

Warriors sat across from him, eyes alert and sparkling in the firelight. When they locked eyes, the captain gave a little smile and a nod.

Time sighed, smiling in return, heart warm. Perhaps he wasn't quite so homesick anymore.

[bluevaractyl]

Cozy Vibes - stargazing

Something had woken Sky, but he wasn't sure what. The echoes of his dream were fading, chased away by the brisk chill of the night air.

Sky rubbed the grit from the corners of his eyes. He sat up and looked around blearily, counting. He came up one short. Who…? The fireplace crackled. A breeze shivered through his sleep clothes. His gaze finally caught on the cracked door.

Sky tugged on his boots and stepped carefully between his sleeping brothers-in-arms. He pushed open the door, closing it behind him. The stars were bright enough to see by. Without conscious thought, his feet carried him down the familiar path to the skydiving platform.

Sky sat down, legs dangling comfortably over the edge. Breathing in deeply, he leaned back on his palms and waited.

Beside him, Hyrule was quiet. His shoulders moved in a soft sigh. "It’s so pretty here,” he said softly, like a confession. “I’ve never seen so many stars in my entire life.”

Sky’s heart ached a little at that. Centuries from now, these same stars would be dimmed by smoke. Ganon’s monsters had burned and ravaged the forests of Hyrule’s time, leaving the land barren and the waters polluted. While Demise’s forces had wrought similar destruction on the Surface, Skyloft had been safe and untouched high above the cloud barrier. Enough time had passed that the Surface was again green and vibrant, but Hyrule’s world still bore the scars.

Sky asked, “Does your era have any legends about the stars?”

Hyrule shrugged. “Not really. There are a couple of constellations, like the Rabbit and the Boar, but I don’t know of any legends.”

Sky hummed. “We have a few legends in my time. It’s said that the stars are the spirits of everyone who has yet to be born and everyone who has already died. Every time a star dies, a person is born.”

Hyrule stared up at the sea of light and whispered, “That’s a lot of people.”

Sky agreed, “Yes.” He paused, then carefully added, “You know, there’s lots of stars in your era too. Just because you can’t see them doesn’t mean they aren’t still there, watching over you.”

Hyrule’s eyes shone with the reflected glow of a thousand points of light. “…Do you think you’re up there somewhere?” he asked. “In my era?”

“I don’t see why not. Me and Four and Time and Legend, and probably all the others too. They wouldn’t let a little thing like a split in time keep them away.”

Hyrule shivered. Sky shifted closer and lifted his arm in invitation. Tentatively, Hyrule leaned in and let the older hero pull him in against his side, sharing warmth. He slowly relaxed.

Sky arranged his sailcloth to cover them both. The Traveler gradually leaned more and more weight on him. When Sky dared to look down, Hyrule’s eyes were closed, and his breathing was deep and steady in sleep.

Soon Sky would bring him back. Whatever anxieties had brought him outside seemed to have been soothed. For now, Sky held his brother close and watched the stars.

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

Home Pt.9 - END || cbf!Simon "Ghost" Riley

Rating: E Words: 1.8K CW: CANON GHOST BACKSTORY, death, death of a CHILD, house fire, corpses, grief, cemetery, some smut. Tags: you/your pronouns, SOME SMUT, ANGST, HURT NO COMFORT, heartbreak, grief and loss, loss of identity, canon Ghost backstory, UNHAPPY ENDING. a/n: not proofread. THIS IS THE END (it WILL be angst and nothing else... but I'll write a happy ending alternative soon).

[← Previous] || [MY MASTERLIST]

Is it macabre to attend your own funeral? Probably.

Nonetheless, Simon Ghost found himself standing near the back of the cemetery, watching on. 

His family wasn’t particularly well-loved in the neighborhood… but when a tragedy like this happens, especially one involving a boy so young as his nephew Joseph… everyone and their mother comes out to pay respects. It’s the “proper thing to do”, they say, even though it’s only out of pity.

However, he has to admit that seeing Oliver, Archie, Jack and Harry, his old mates, come to pay respects, accompanied by their respective families, pulled at his heartstrings a bit. Especially when Archie tapped Oliver in the back while the latter cried.

He’s been here the entire time watching the people come and go, flowers being thrown down into the holes of the Riley family communal grave, and other arrangements being spread all over and around the headstones. Four holes in total. First, ‘Simon’, then his mum Joanna, then Tommy… Then Beth and Joseph in the same one. 

It was close-casket, the bodies too badly burned to allow anything else. The fake Simon has the cheapest coffin he could get, leaving the best for his mum, Tommy and Beth… And he had forced himself to pick a beautiful little white coffin for Joseph. He didn’t even think they made coffins that small. 

Per his request, they lowered Joseph into the hole first, Beth’s larger coffin covering the little boy’s. Just like she was when Ghost found them. Her lifeless body curled over Joseph’s, cradling him tight to keep him safe below her own chest… It was fruitless.

Ghost allows himself to take a deep breath as, finally, the last few people have walked off. The sun is starting to set and people can only pretend to grieve for so long before the cold wind and the darkness makes them go back home. 

In his skull-printed balaclava, black beanie, and black hoodie, Ghost basically blends into the shadows that are starting to take over the cemetery, standing under a tree as his eyes trace the last people walking away from the open graves.

Just days ago Ghost himself was in one of these… buried alive. That’s the night Simon Riley died, he’d say, though, officially, he died in the house fire that took his entire family… A faulty heater during Christmas Eve, you see?

Lost in thought, Ghost doesn’t realize it until now that someone lingered behind. A woman. She moves slowly, tentatively, in the direction of the graves, carrying a couple of bouquets.

More of the same, he thinks… Though he secretly admires the commitment to stay here as the sky is darkening and the air is cooling down.

She places one of the arrangements near the headstones, somewhere amidst the mess of all the other ones…

She flicks on the torch on her phone, to read the names on them… And very gingerly crouches, right in front of ‘his’ grave. She lowers the second bouquet onto it and tosses it carefully on top of the coffin.

Then, she lays her forearms on her knees, letting her hands hang between her legs as she remains crouched in front of his grave. Only to then watch her fold her hands and bring them up to her mouth, to hide the fact she’s crying. He can tell from the way her shoulders rise and fall and and her whole form shakes.

From this distance, he can’t hear her speak, and with the darkness, he can’t see her face.

But he knows.

He knows it’s you.

He watches you fish something out of your pocket and, slowly, toss it down onto the grave too.

He feels his breath being taken away torturously slowly… It feels like someone has grabbed his lungs and forcefully wrung out the air from them like water off a wet rag. 

He’s suffocating.

-

“Merry Christmas!” You cheerfully squealed as you tossed your arms around his neck from behind, strangling him a bit and, shaking him from side to side.

It was freezing outside and you had rushed out in the early morning so you could exchange gifts.

You were twelve, he was thirteen.

“Bloody hell, Y/N, are you tryin’ to kill me?!” He complained playfully as you let go and fake pouted… Then you both broke into laughter.

He tossed a bag of Cadbury mini-eggs at you, which you caught with a giggle. Then, you carefully handed him a little box with a Terry’s chocolate orange in it.

It was all either of you could afford.

“Merry Christmas, you pain in the arse.” He grumbled at you… As if he didn’t have a massive crush on you.

-

You were thirteen, he was fourteen.

“Merry Christmas, Sleepin’ Beauty.” He said it first, as he watched you sneak out the door carefully at 1:30 A.M. You had agreed to meet at midnight but you took your sweet time because you accidentally overslept.

“Shut up, you tosser.” You scoffed as you stopped in front of him, exchanging your gifts.

Terry’s chocolate orange, Cadbury mini-eggs.

“Go back inside, it’s freezin’.” Simon added as he watched you shiver in your pajamas. Poor thing, he thought, as if he hadn’t been here, in the freezing cold, waiting for you for over an hour.

“I will, I will!” You announced dramatically. “Merry Christmas, Riley.” You added as you reached up and kissed his cheek.

Then you turned and rushed back inside. Leaving him outside... but the chill in his bones was long forgotten.

-

You were fourteen, he was fifteen.

The wall clock at your local pub announced it was midnight.

“Merry Christmas, love.” He told you as he surprised you by dangling the Cadbury mini eggs bag in front of your face.

You leaned up and stole a kiss off his lips, his mouth melting into yours. Your friends around you complained in mock disgust at your PDA.

You pulled away and stuck your tongue out at them, mocking them back, before you turned all your attention to Simon.

You reached into your little shoulder bag and pulled out his chocolate orange, handing it to him. “Merry Christmas.” You told him and smiled sweetly.

-

You were fifteen, he was sixteen.

You were cuddling in the backseat of his dad’s Renault Clio, smoking together.

You had dozed off a couple of times by now, feeling warm and cosy in his arms, as usual.

Simon looked out of the window, enjoying the sight of the empty farm fields, lightly speckled in white snow.

“Darlin’?” Simon called for you and you stirred awake again.

You lifted your head from his chest, ever so slightly, where you had been lulled to sleep by his rhythmic heartbeat. 

“Hm?” You murmured groggily.

“Merry Christmas, lovie.” He whispers as he kisses your forehead.

“Merry Christmas, Riley…” You return as you nuzzle up to his neck, your nose rubbing against his skin.

You’d exchange your gifts before he dropped you off at home…

-

You were sixteen, he was seventeen.

It was tight in that backseat, his body no longer fitting lengthwise across the backseat and yours just barely fitting too.

Simon thrusted into you, holding one of your legs over his shoulder, while the other wrapped around his hip. His knees were bent and his head was pressed flush against the smooth roof of the car.

Your moans were loud and almost pornographic, forcing him to have to kiss you to shut you up. But even then, he kept up a hard and unforgiving pace, his hips slamming into yours feverishly.

It all stemmed from the undeniable hunger you felt for one another after three months apart while he was in Basic Training.

He couldn’t get enough of you, the way you looked up at him with those tear-filled eyes, your face red from the heat, your breaths erratic, your forehead dripping with sweat…

“Been… thinking… about this… for so long…” He grunted through the strain of trying to hold back his orgasm.

“Simon!” You moaned, your voice jumpy and high-pitched as he kept the rhythm that was driving you both to the brink of exhaustion.

“Three… bloody… fuckin’... months… without you…” He groaned. “God…” He grunted. “Keep moanin’ for me, darlin’... Show me who you belong to.” He demanded.

And you did. You made sure to make yourself heard, calling his name and whining, desperately so, as he made you both reach your limits.

As you both winded down, your weak legs wrapped around his hip, his head lying on your sweaty breasts, he looked up at you. “I love you.” Simon told you.

Your eyes softened when you looked down at him, his brown eyes seemingly even more beautiful that night than they ever had been. “I love you too.” You told him softly.

He pushed up and kissed you sweetly and, after glancing at the dash clock out of the corner of his eye, he chuckled against your lips.

“Merry Christmas.” He murmured. You probably replied something of the sort as well, though he kissed you back into silence.

You would exchange your gifts soon after.

-

You were seventeen, he was eighteen.

Simon was at the mess, shoulder-to-shoulder with his fellow Corporals, squeezed tight so they could all fit at the table.

His rifle hung around his back, as he lowered his head like an obedient dog while shoveling mashed potatoes and slices of roast turkey into his mouth.

The CO had barked a hurried “Merry Christmas” to the troops before allowing them to dig in.

They hurried to eat. 

Simon was one of the first to stand up and rush his tray to the tray return trolley, and then slap his helmet on.

Then, he dashed out the door to join his platoon in the frontlines, swinging his rifle forward.

There was no Terry’s Chocolate Orange that time…

There was never going to be another one.

-

By the time Simon Ghost finally catches his breath again, you’re pushing back up onto your feet. He imagines you’re about to walk off and leave… But you don’t.

The sun has fully set by now, bathing the cemetery in darkness… And there you are. Still standing. 

Grieving over him.

His chest hurts, his heart squeezing with the realization that you are not taking his death well… Even after 15 years.

He wishes he could go forward… To tell you he’s not actually dead… that he just needed to pretend.

He wants to ask you how you’ve been, what you’ve been up to, to tell you how grateful he is that you came, how proud he is that you’re alive and healthy, by the looks of it.

He wants to tell you about his regrets, he wants to apologize, he wants to tell you he wanted to marry you, that he's never loved another woman like he's loved you.

But he doesn’t.

He simply continues to watch you from a distance as you hang around for a long, long time. Longer than anyone else. Hell, longer than Oliver did.

He watches your figure seemingly take a deep breath… And then… you start walking off toward the car park

He’s tempted to follow after you, even if just to watch… just for a moment more.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he walks up quietly toward 'his' grave, spotting what you threw into it easily.

He recognizes the shiny foil of a Terry's Chocolate Orange amidst the flowers without any issue.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before turning and walking away.

There was a time when you found a home in each other's arms...

But that's dead and buried now... Just like the chocolate orange will be.

And that's for the best.

[← Previous] || [MY MASTERLIST]

taglist: @iite-cool , @spicyspicyliving

Thank you so much for reading this fic, to the people who've read it here and on AO3! Your support mean the world to me!

[owlsie-hoot]

Angsty kisses prompt

asked by @stark-and-lightman and @lunalove-blr

"kisses to reassure themselves that they are really safe."

“Everyone into the shelter! NOW!” Bosworth’s voice shouted across the dark Darrowby square. “NOW! Hurry up!” The sound of the approaching planes grew louder with each second and as much as Siegfried wanted to escape that horrible noise, he simply couldn’t.

“Go, go! Take the dogs with you!” With growing urgency, he shoved James and Helen out through the front door. Jess and Dash followed obediently. “I’ll join you as soon as Mrs Hall’s back.”

Helen, a wide-awake Jimmy in her arms, turned around and stared incredulously back at him. “Siegfried she’ll be alright. She knows what she’s doing. Come on.”  

“Helen, I also know what I am doing and I am telling you to hurry up.” He remained standing in the doorway of the house, arms defiantly crossed. No one could force him to leave and if they tried, he would simply shut the door in their face. Mrs Hall was still out there on her bike, finishing her assigned route, undoubtedly alarmed by the sound of the planes and the loud siren that had awoken everyone in Darrowby and the surrounding area. In the end it was James who took his wife’s arm and pulled her along the square towards the Drovers. However, her eyes remained fixed on Siegfried for a moment longer, giving him that stare he was so very accustomed to. Both women had mastered it to perfection and yet this time he did not give in, remained stubborn. From the dark doorsteps he watched friends, neighbours and the public stream towards the Drovers where Bosworth had positioned himself in the door, ticking names off a list. The urgency and the danger of the situation was palpable and Siegfried was acutely aware of his reckless, foolish behaviour. But he could not sit inside the shelter knowing that Mrs Hall was still out there somewhere. Before Bosworth could spot him, he closed the door and reached for his coat and hat in the dark. If he remembered her route correctly, she would be on her way back by now. But there were only open fields between there and Darrowby. No farms or houses or anything else to seek shelter in. His mind was made up then.

---

Getting out of the village in the dark and without the assistance of the headlights had been easy enough. He was so familiar with the road that he could probably manoeuvre it blindfolded. At the first crossing however the darkness was almost swallowing every single detail. Carefully and very slowly, Siegfried turned left, up the hill that led him towards the first farms outside the perimeter of Darrowby. A good climb on a bike and a fast and dangerous descend on the way back. Especially in the dark. This was the part of her route he was worried about the most each evening. It did not matter that she had cycled this stretch of road three or even four times a week for the past year without coming to any harm. With the added fear caused by the air raid accidents were more likely to happen.

In the distance he could hear the planes getting louder and louder. But when he looked up and tried to spot them, he found the sky partly covered in clouds, the moon only visible whenever one of them drifted further along. Perhaps this was a good sign. Or maybe it was not. Siegfried noticed how he grew more anxious with every mile he covered until he finally saw the weak light of a lamp approaching him. It moved slowly, close to the drystone wall and when he had finally reached it, he suddenly noticed how loud the planes had become, how deafening the roaring of the engines was. “Mrs Hall!” He was out of the car in one swift motion and by her side with only a few steps.

“What are you doing here? You should be in the shelter?” She stopped walking and he received the same look Helen had given him earlier.

“So should you! I thought I’d try and find you but it seems I’ve come too late.” He pointed up at the sky, where the planes were now almost above their heads. Both of them looked up at a gap in the clouds that revealed the underside of a squadron of German planes moving closer towards Darrowby and the larger town in the area. Then a sudden noise, different to everything he had ever heard, interrupted the monotonous roar. A whistling, loud, sharp and very high pitched, followed by a loud crash. The ground shook underneath their feet and instinctively he threw them both to the ground by the old wall, covered her body with his own. Memories of the last war surfaced. He heard the screaming, the shouting, the artillery fire, could smell the wet earth, the decay and the rot. What was different and quickly tore him out of this horrible memory was the soft body underneath his own, the hand that held his own, the warm breath he could feel on his cheek. So very alive.

For a few minutes they waited, crouched in that position. Hearts beating fast and each sharp intake of breath was followed by shaky exhale. The planes had flown on, their engines sounded much farther afield. Siegfried lifted his head, dared to cast a glance at the sky and around them to ensure they were no longer in imminent danger before he rested his back against the wall. Pulling Mrs Hall with him. She still held his hand, was still so very near that he could feel how her body trembled. “We’re safe”, he whispered and turned to look at her, saw the timid smile and something sparkling on her cheeks in the dim light of her bike lamp.

“Not so self-assured in a real emergency. I warned you about that, didn’t I?” With her free hand she wiped away the tears, bit down on her bottom lip.

“Don’t say that.” With his thumb he caught the next tear that rolled down her cheek, then kissed the spot, let his lips touch the soft skin of her face ever so gently. “But we’re safe now.”

It felt as if they had needed this to reassure themselves that nothing serious had happened. Suddenly he was more alive than he had ever been.

She relaxed under his touch, moved just that tiny bit closer and to Siegfried’s surprise she leaned forward and softly kissed him before resting her forehead against his, whispering, “Yes. Safe.”

[skyward-floored]

The next part to that downfall IAU thing I posted a week or two or whenever it was about Twi's escape! He is... still on the run. Not having a good time.

The fic before this

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

He’d made it outside.

He only half remembered getting there, but Twilight had made it outside.

Twilight wiped his nose, looking up at the sky. The day had started off a little cloudy, but at this point it was grey and bleak, clouds reducing the sun to nothing but a washed-out smear. It had started raining at some point, Twilight forgot when, but it dripped water down his face and soaked his hair and clothes. The whole world seemed grey, and Twilight shivered as he did his best to hurry down the street.

He stumbled on a puddle, nearly falling on his face, and Twilight leaned against a wall for a minute, trying to get himself to focus. He was... having trouble thinking. That last shock had been really bad.

Twilight squeezed his eyes shut, then shook his head and kept going. His ears were constantly swiveling as he walked, listening for threats or any sign of him being followed. Every time he heard a siren he jumped, and he had to duck into an alley more than once when another super or someone official went by. Luckily his hearing gave him plenty of warning, otherwise he probably wouldn’t have made it as far as he had. As it was he’d had way too many close calls, and nearly collapsed more than once.

He had to keep reminding himself what he was doing. He was struggling to remain on task, focusing nearly impossible. Dull throbs of pain buzzed through him, his whole body hurting, chest and head especially. Twilight debated on and off if transforming would be better, but he didn’t get anywhere with the thought.

Four legs would help with balance. A wolf would be much more visible. But they were looking for him either way, he wasn’t sure if it would even matter.

He didn’t know. His head hurt.

Twilight reached a street corner and paused, pressing a hand to his face and rubbing. Where was he even trying to go? He knew distance and safety was the goal. He remembered that. But where? Home?

A pang hit his chest at the thought, and Twilight frowned. That didn’t seem right. Hadn’t he thought it through and decided to go somewhere else? But where would he even go? He wanted to go home, more than just about anything at the moment. But home probably wasn’t safe.

Is anywhere safe?

Twilight breathed in shakily, and pushed himself off the wall he’d slumped against, trying to walk normally through the streets. He’d swiped a shirt and pants from a clothesline and ditched his sleep clothes, but he knew he was still recognizable by the people hunting him. Mask or no mask, they knew who he was.

At least the civilians didn’t. Nobody gave him much of a second glance, even when he did stumble, keeping their heads bowed against the rain. It was only a matter of time before his real face got released though, which meant Twilight needed to hurry.

Hurrying was... very hard, though.

His legs wobbled more the further he went, his vision smearing and thoughts scattering like dust in the wind. That same ache still radiated across his skin, and every step hurt, bruises aching, head pounding. He was nowhere near home, but Twilight was close to collapsing.

He would have to stop and rest. There was no getting around it.

Twilight slightly changed direction, heading in what he hoped was the right direction of the park. There were plenty of places there he could hide. And if he was a wolf, people would be even less inclined to bother him, probably assuming he was an unusually-sized stray dog.

He would just take a quick nap. Rest his aching body then get moving again.

Twilight blinked, green and orange swimming into his vision. The sound of the road and general city bustle was dimmed here, and he exhaled, fallen leaves crunching as he made for the stream that ran through the park. He’d made it.

Maybe he wasn’t quite as far gone as he’d feared.

The plants and trees were thicker by the water, and Twilight slipped into them, falling to his knees as he let his transformation ripple through him. It hurt way more than usual, and Twilight bit back a cry, biting the inside of his already abused mouth. He was collapsed in the mud by the time it finished, and Twilight swallowed, shakily getting to four paws. Now he just needed a good spot.

It didn’t take him long to find a nice thick bush, brambles around and over top it. It was right by the water, beside some trash somebody had left behind, and relief hit him as he studied it. Nobody would go over here unless they had to.

Twilight lost some fur slipping beneath the prickly branches, but it was worth the additional pain. Between the mud and garbage and thick thorny bush, he actually felt pretty safe.

Twilight had barely curled up before he passed out.

(...)

Footsteps.

Twilight woke in a dizzy haze, blinking in confusion at the darkness surrounding him. It had been mid-morning when he’d curled up here, how..?

More footsteps, slower and cautious now, and Twilight froze, only moving his ears. One pair of feet. Stepping lightly. Heading his direction.

Twilight swallowed back a whine and stayed low, breathing in to try and get the scent of whoever it was. Sometimes homeless people hung around down here, but none of them would be stepping with so much care. And the scent he was picking up...

“Twilight?” a voice whispered, and Twilight froze, the voice a familiar one.

...Warriors?

“Don’t come out,” the voice continued, still in a whisper so low Twilight could barely hear it. “If I don’t see you I can tell the truth more easily.”

Twilight felt himself begin to shake, not sure what to think. The rest had barely helped him, and his whole body still ached, head pounding, chest sore. His stomach felt hollow with hunger (when was the last time he’d eaten?), his bones ached with a damp chill, and Warriors... he hadn’t seen his uncle in ages. Could he trust him?

He wanted to. So badly.

He just didn’t know.

“You probably don’t trust me,” Warriors continued, keeping his voice so quiet only Twilight could hear it. “I wouldn’t trust me either. But I’m only here to warn you. Don’t go home. They’re expecting you there.”

Twilight stayed as still as he could with his trembling, rain drumming steadily on the leaves around him and landing on his nose. He didn’t know what to do.

“Nobody knows I’m here,” Warriors whispered with pain in his voice. “Or, well, if they do, they’ll think I just paused to stare at the water.” A bitter laugh went through the air. “Maybe I am. Maybe I’m just convincing myself you’re here somewhere and that my guess was right because I’ve already failed Time once today. I don’t know.”

Twilight heard a shuddery inhale through the rain.

“I brought you food. I’ll leave it here,” Warriors softly continued. “I wish I could do more, but I’m being watched, I’m... I’m so sorry. Don’t give up, Twi.”

Twilight heard something land on the mud and leaves close to where he was hiding, and then the footsteps trailed away, crossing over the bridge at the stream and fading into the distance until Twilight couldn’t hear them.

Twilight waited even longer, shivering with hunger and pain, and then cautiously crept out, fur snagging on thorns. A small bag sat a few feet away, and Twilight crawled towards it, ears still swiveling for any sign that this was a trap.

He gave it a rapid sniff for anything suspicious when he reached it, then snagged it in his teeth, withdrawing to the bush again. The zipper wouldn’t come open with his fangs, so Twilight transformed again, biting back the cry that tried to escape. The moment he could move again he quickly unzipped the bag, then began devouring the protein bars inside. There were only two along with a bottle of water, but it was enough.

Twilight actually felt a bit human again when he finished, and he searched the tiny bag more thoroughly for anything useful... or suspicious. The only thing he found was a flashlight, a few stray bandaids, and a tiny, barely legible note.

Twilight shoved everything in his pocket, then fished the note out and squinted, trying to keep it dry as he read. He may have had reasonable night vision, but it was still really dark out here, and Warriors had written so small it was almost impossible to read. Finally Twilight managed to puzzle it out, though when he did, it actually wasn’t very helpful.

Epona’s been bridled, but her fur is still pink.

Twilight stared, squinted, and read it again, beyond confused. Epona? What on earth could Warriors mean by mentioning Malon’s horse from... oh.

Oh Mom.

Twilight swallowed thickly, his stomach dropping out.

They must have gotten Mom.

Twilight squeezed his eyes shut, crumpling the note and curling back up on the ground. The food had helped, but he still felt exhausted, and the news of Mom was... it was too much right now. He should be using the darkness and terrible weather to his advantage, but the idea of getting up and moving felt suddenly overwhelming.

The second half of the message made it seem like Legend was still out there, at least that’s what Twilight hoped it meant, but...

Mom.

Twilight’s breath shuddered, and he fought against the way his mind tried to go back to when they’d lost Dad, some of the last words he’d ever heard from him ringing in his ears.

Take care of your mother and Legend.

“I’m trying,” he rasped, curling up tighter with his knees to his forehead. “I’m trying.”

He’d already failed on one of those counts.

Twilight’s breath shuddered, rain dripping on his head, his limbs aching and sore. He was exhausted. He was hurt. He had no clue if Legend or his mother or anyone was okay.

What did he have left?

An oddly warm drop of rain fell down his cheek, and Twilight buried his face in his arms.

(...)

When he woke up again it was still dark, but in a different way.

The rain had stopped, though Twilight was still wet and freezing where he lay under the bramble bush. His stomach felt empty again, only in a slightly less desperate way than it had before, and he groaned, grimacing at the taste in his mouth. He’d kill for some toothpaste.

Twilight licked his lips once, then carefully sat up as much as he could, hissing through his teeth at the ache in his body. All of him hurt, from his head to his feet. And the pain only got worse when he remembered what had happened earlier.

Mom...

Twilight breathed out shakily, trying to focus. He felt slightly more clearheaded, but he still felt stuck in a fog of dizziness and pain. Could he risk another few hours here to try and rest a bit longer?

Twilight screwed his eyes shut, then reopened them. No. He had to get moving. This bush wouldn’t be safe forever, especially if Warriors gave up his location. Purposely or not.

A lump settled in his throat. Had Warriors known? Did he try and help Mom? Was he waiting out of sight for Twilight to come out right now?

Too many questions.

Twilight bit back what he knew would end up being a pitiful sound, and took a deep breath. Then he braced himself as he transformed back into a wolf again. It felt terrible, exhaustion weighing him down, his emotions dragging at him, but Twilight pushed through it with a snarl. He had to lie down and catch his breath for several minutes, but once he did, he carefully stood, and nosed his way out of the bush.

He had to figure out where Legend was. That was his mission right now. Keep himself safe, and find his brother.

Easy.

Twilight held back a whine, and started to make his way out of the park, dodging puddles and piles of leaves. He could guess where Legend would hide if needed, but unfortunately they had more than one backup plan, and he didn’t know if Legend had made it home before the order had been issued. And that changed things.

Twilight paused at the park’s exit, and looked down the road, streetlights reflecting off of the pavement in smears of yellowish color. Where should he try first? Would it be better for him to—

A siren blared from somewhere, and Twilight dove for cover, headlights turning a corner and scraping past where he’d been standing mere seconds ago. Another siren joined the first, and when Twilight saw that both cars had slowed down, he bolted, running away from the lights and praying he wouldn’t be seen.

That hope was neatly dashed when headlights shone straight at him, and Twilight broke into a sprint, shouts ringing in his ears.

Bad luck? A set up?

Something whizzed past his ear, and despite Twilight’s exhaustion he began to serpentine as he ran, ducking behind bushes and cars, erratically changing direction.

His tongue lolled as he ran, paws pounding against the pavement. Little jolts of pain went up whenever his paws hit the ground, but Twilight pushed past them, pressing his body to move faster, ears pricked for more shouts, eyes roving for further lights.

He wasn’t going to get caught. Not now. Not ever.

He would make it. For Legend. For Zelda and Champion. For Wind and Four.

For Mom.

Twilight grit his teeth in a snarl and kept running, hearing the squeal of tires behind him and seeing flickers of light cast on nearby buildings.

For everyone.

[crazylittlejester]

What would be everyone's reactions if Warriors fell asleep on them?

for the regular Wars that I write (him falling asleep on the others would be a RARITY, so they’d all initially be a bit shocked):

Wind: He asks to play with Wars’s hair all the time, because he gets bored and Warriors will let him if he’s in the right mood for it, and there have been several times where Wars has just ended up falling asleep because it’s late at night. Wind thinks it’s hilarious and teases him for it in the mornings, but he’s also glad Warriors can fall asleep. He may be the youngest of THIS group, but he is a big brother back home and that’s not gonna stop him from big brothering a man who’s like 15 years older than he is

Four: I think Four wouldn’t know what the fuck to do, he would probably freeze up and look to someone for help, because on one hand he wouldn’t want to wake up Wars, but on the other, he’s worried about Wars waking up and panicking being so close to another person

Wild: He’d probably carefully move out from under Wars and make sure he was comfortable before leaving and going somewhere else, or he’d get all comfy and accept the fact that he gets to cuddle with his brother for the night. He doesn’t care either way, he likes sleeping near another person, it makes him feel less alone

Legend: Panic. He would panic and then he’d be accept his fate and stay absolutely perfectly still so Wars could get some undisturbed sleep

Hyrule: He’d definitely be very confused, and if Wars was falling asleep on HIM I think he’d try to figure out if he was injured at all, and then if he realized Wars was totally fine and just tired, he’d wrap an arm around him or something and let him rest because they ALL know he needs it

Sky: It depends on how it happened. If they were just sitting next to each other and Warriors’s head just kinda slowly came down on his shoulder as he fell asleep, then Sky would just sit there and let Wars get a lil nap in. If they were already laying down or physically close BEFORE Wars fell asleep and if Sky thought Wars would be okay with it, he’d probably pull him close and go to bed too

Twilight: He’d turn into Wolfie and snuggle right up to him. He’s done this multiple times, whether or not Warriors has fallen asleep on him or has just fallen asleep somewhere other than his bed roll in general. If he’s in his wolf form, it’s less likely to startle Wars in the morning, and Wars certainly won’t say no to Wolfie cuddles. They’re seriously healing

Time: He would make sure that Warriors was comfortable, and probably wrap Warriors’s own scarf around his shoulders if he physically could. He’d just be really really happy his brother was getting sleep and that he felt comfortable and safe enough to fall asleep that physically close to him, because that’s a huge sign of trust

[the-au-collector]

Was inspired by reading some LU incorrect quotes about cooking to make this little braindump. So uh yeah have some “how good are the Links at cooking” headcanons:

Wild - resident chef, obviously. Very good cook. Was taught how to at the Dueling Peaks stable and it’s very relaxing for him to cook. He genuinely enjoys cooking and has recipes saved from all over his Hyrule. He will fight the others for cooking duty, both on the road and when they’re somewhere safe. He just loves to cook. Before the Calamity, though, he could not cook. At all. He was absolutely horrible at it. Flora was surprised when she learned he knew how to cook all of a sudden.

Twilight - can only make pumpkin stew. More often than not he’s eating food from Telma’s, stuff that doesn’t need to be cooked, or he hunts and eats as a wolf.

Sky - knows a few recipes. I feel like the Knight Academy would at least teach basic recipes, so he can handle himself on his own. It’s just not especially flavorful compared to Wild’s cooking. Also pumpkin stew. If he can he will make pumpkin stew.

Warriors - also was taught how to cook because he’s a Knight, but is still a danger in the kitchen. He makes some pretty infamous gruel. It’s really bad. Keep him out of the kitchen. He lost his taste buds during the War of Eras

Time - he theoretically can cook it’s just that he makes too much of a mess when doing it. He will drop everything, spill anything, and end up covered in ingredients despite actively trying to be clean. Time makes dinner time look like a bomb went off and it’s so much of a hassle to clean and honestly a bit of a waste, especially only for bad to mediocre meals at best. He can survive when Malon’s not home, but is his food good? No. No it’s not. As a kid he was hopeless. Luckily the puppy dog eyes worked like a charm as a kid. When he got older Talon eventually sat him down and taught him how to cook basic meals. Malon’s taught him a little too, but again. He just makes a mess

Hyrule - cannot cook. Was never taught and can’t teach himself since he was never taught to read. But he does know how to find edible food on the road. He’s a really good forager and that’s how he sustained himself on his journeys

Wind - can cook some things. Granny’s been teaching him how to cook. He knows Granny’s soup recipe but he insists he can never make it right so he never actually makes it. He can cook basic fish dishes but doesn’t have an arsenal of recipes. Usually it was down to whatever he could find for cheap in a store or fish himself during his adventures. I feel like Tetra’s ship has a cook so he doesn’t need to worry about food anymore. If he had the choice, though, he would live off Granny’s soup and nothing else

Four - Can cook. Probably the most reliable cook after Wild. He can make some fancy and genuinely good dishes. He just doesn’t particularly like the stress of cooking. Red’s always worried no one’s going to like it, Green wants to experiment, Vio wants to follow the recipe to a T, and Blue just wants everyone to shut up. I feel like during his journeys he used his age, and then his height, to his advantage to get free food whenever he could. I like to think he would help his grandpa cook whenever he could as a kid and thus actually learned how to cook

Legend - Can cook, but only in a kitchen. He never managed to get the hang of cooking over an open fire. Though while he can cook, I feel like he has a special preference for baking since his uncle would make apple tarts with him when he was little. During his earlier adventures, someone would usually cook for him (except for his first, he’d usually have to steal to get by) since he was still pretty young, but he slowly learned to cook over the course of his adventures. He learned a lot on Koholint specifically, so he knows a lot of seafood dishes though he doesn’t usually make those

[redrose10]

I’ve had this idea for a story in my head for a while and I just need somewhere to put it out there. This is a little teaser of one of the chapters. So far I have four chapters written with plans for several more. The first chapter should be posted in a couple days. I’ve never written a multi chapter fan fiction so I’m excited to do this. Hope someone out there likes it!

Yoongi X Female Reader. CEO/Arranged Marriage AU

Warnings (May get updated as chapters progress): Arranged marriage, cheating/infidelity, hints of smut (Probably won’t get very explicit but we’ll see how it goes), Sexual Assault, Brief mentions of death, Reader grew up an orphan, General Angst, Swearing

Teaser Below

On the last night you decided to treat yourself to a nice dinner out. Yoongi had been gone all day and you knew he wasn’t going to spend the evening with you anyways. The food was incredibly delicious and you had a really nice time with the waiter, Hoseok. He was like a big ray of sunshine and for that one dinner you were able to forget everything that had been happening. The two of you exchanged numbers so you could get together for lunch next time he visited his parents in Korea. As you were walking back to your room you came across two people all over each other in the hallway. The man’s hands were slowly going farther up the shirt of the brunette he was with. Soft moans could be heard between the two of them. Normally you’d be pretty off put that two people would be so open in public but you were happy that someone was getting intimacy. You were craving any sort of touch and these two just made you want it more.

That is until the woman accidentally dropped her purse and bent down to retrieve it revealing the man that she was with. Yoongi looked at you with his classic unreadable expression. The woman standing back up realized you were now present. She was understandably confused as to why you were waiting right there.

“Oh I’m sorry. Is this your room?”, she asked looking back at Yoongi for an explanation.

Deep down you had thought he’d tell the truth. Let her know that you were his wife. That she needed to leave. That this was your honeymoon. That he wouldn’t bring another women into your hotel room while you were there with them. Instead he just sighed,

“Yeah this is my sister Y/N. She’s sharing a room with me unfortunately.”

You felt your heart crack. The woman looked a little shocked pulling away, “Oh I’m so sorry. Maybe we should continue this elsewhere.”

You watched the smirk spread across Yoongi’s face, “Nah she won’t mind. Right Y/N?” In your head you screamed, “Yeah of course I mind. You’re my husband and you expect me to just sit there while you fuck some other woman.” But instead you gently shook your head and watched as Yoongi pulled the woman back into the room with him kissing her as he went.

You stood there and watched the door slam shut. The faint scent of cinnamon and vanilla the only thing remaining in the hall with you. You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t sit in that room with them. So instead you made your way down to the lobby. At this time of night all the restaurants were closing up and you weren’t much for the bar scene so you grabbed a water bottle from a vending machine and walked out to the beach to wait it out. Once you felt you had a safe spot chosen you took a seat down in the sand. As you stared up at the sky you felt the exhaustion taking over your body. Slowly you laid back allowing the warm sand and the sound of the ocean waves to lull you off to sleep. The smell of the salty air a welcoming change to the cinnamon and vanilla that was slowly driving you crazy.

[squidsinashirt]

This might be a little bit specific but I’m hoping you can help!!

I’ve done my padi course and a few dives and am thinking about doing some tech diving stuff so I can wreck dive!! Where do I start! Thank u!!

Woah, that’s a switch up from being threatened by the Chaos Crew or being asking about my brothers’ love lives. Was a bit worried when I read specific there but this is better!

My long answer would be much longer than this answer box permits, and would probably take about three days to write.

Congrats on your PADI and I hope you’re enjoying yourself!

Tech diving, wreck diving etc is way more complicated than the open water stuff. To be honest, I’d say you should give it a good while of getting familiar with ‘normal’ diving before you attempt anything a little more challenging.

Tech diving brings in a whole new host of challenges - learning to use a closed circuit (takes a bit of practice not to try and drown!) first. Gases you are using - are you gonna use Heliox? Tri? If you’re gonna use Trimix, what sats? (Personally I prefer a lower Tri because my eyes get a bit fuzzy, but that’s individual). That’ll depend on your dive and your bottom out time. Are you gonna swap gases for your decomp back up?

Fun fact - you can mix just about any Trimix in Thunderbird Four because she’s the best because I never know what depth we might end up rescuing from. Wish it was always as easy as strapping a rebreather onto people and sending them to the big green birdie in the sky (good tv editing there). No point in rescuing people just to give them the bends!

You need to be confident in calculating your decompression times dependent on what’s gone on, and what you’re dealing with. You need to be happy you’ve put some fail safes in too - don’t want to suddenly be over because you drop your camera! If you’re heading for around 45m, decomp time is roughly equal to bottom time. For each 3m either way, add or subtract 5 minutes. Thats a rough rule of thumb to get your number crunching started.

Make sure you’re diving with somebody approved and experienced. Can’t tell you how many rescues we’ve had of… people who are not. That’s the good PR answer.

So eh… yeah. Short answer is - safe dives, have fun. Dive with a great instructor with lots of local experience, and head for somewhere easy going to start with!

Avoid: inside sinking cargo ships, collapsing coral reefs, Jupiter’s moons and the lost city of Atlantis.

And if your name is Fischler, you didn’t read any of this.

[nightmaricwriter]

WIP Intro

This is a ACOTAR fanfiction story I started today. I couldn't get the thought out of my brain and it was begging to be written. So this is me throwing Hades, from my other WIP, Stars of the Sky, that has yet to be introduced because I am too busy loring it out, into the world of A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J. Maas. No idea where it is going at this time, but @aalinaaaaaa wanted to read the prologue, so I am giving the prologue here.

Due to my nature, I will be incorporating elements from Stars of the Sky into this story, and I have no idea how that will work out. Only that this isn't the first time I've killed the MC in the prologue. I sometimes write like this to explore an oc in a different environment because it amuses me to imagine how much my characters could change the novels I enjoy reading.

So, warnings before you seek the prologue: Death, blood, and injuries. No fighting though. Didn't give that in this... yet.

Hades stares at the sky, watching it darken from a cerulean to an indigo. Her hands rest on her stomach, feeling her lifeblood leaking from her fingers. Her vision is going dark, blurring. She can still see the outline of her killer, feel his blood red eyes glare down at her, feel his hate in the air.

Her eyes close, her breath slowing. It hurts, dying to a stomach wound. She knows she doesn't have the time to treat it, doesn't have enough time to seek treatment from others, either. She can't survive.

Hades feels her life slipping from her. She feels it more intimately than others. With her connection to her Personal God, The God Of Death, Dead, and The Underworld, Hades, she can feel who is close to dying. Right now, she is close to dying.

Her soul is slipping from her, and she can't gather enough strength to hold on. She can feel herself going weightless, her muscles no longer responding to her. She soon stops feeling her body, her consciousness going with her soul.

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Hades opens her eyes, expecting the meadow of Elysium, but she only sees a wooden roof above her. She's… alive? She groans quietly, pushing herself to sit up. The room she's in is small, with two doors leading to other places, she assumes, a table that takes up a good portion of the room, and she's now sitting with her back to a fireplace.

Her stomach hurts, but it doesn't burn. She tugs the hem of her shirt up, scanning where her wound had been. Not even a trace of the wound remains. Had Apollo gotten to her in time? Probably not. He wouldn't have been able to beat Ares.

Hades crosses her legs so she can set her elbows on her knees. She can vaguely feel four living beings in this building, but none in this room. She leans back, resting against the fireplace. She could just leave. She doesn't know where she is, but it shouldn't be too hard to work her way to somewhere she knows.

That would be her plan if she wasn't so exhausted. She lays back down, curling onto her side. Maybe she's safe enough to spend a few days here.

[doublejango]

for @rapid-as-sass-in-nation-team so eighty-four years ago, we wrote a thing! and it was an excellent thing! and although i can't really write on Discord anymore, here is a continuation of the thing! but also no worries if you don't have muse for it anymore, i absolutely understand <3

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This wasn't how any of this was supposed to go.

Striker sighed as he looked out at the horizon. Some things you just knew were trouble from the start, maybe more trouble than they were worth, but knowing didn't stop you from getting involved, from getting in too deep... and he was absolutely in too deep. What should've been a fling--if even that--had turned into something more. Maybe it was just because it had been so long for Striker, so damned long since the last time he let anyone in, let anyone touch his heart, let alone his body, or maybe it was something in the shark's eyes. All those signs, all those damnable little signs, that Chaz had been misused, maybe abused. The way he reacted like a kicked dog even when he hadn't done a damn thing wrong, how eager he was to please, how sweet, how kind...

If someone really needs you, it's damn near impossible not to love 'em, less you got a heart of stone, Striker reminded himself, not for the first time. And that was why he was here, that was why he was doing this--bringing Chaz here, to Wrath. To his home. Because somewhere along the line, somewhere in the whirlwind of--what was it, just two days now? Somewhere in this haze they'd lost themselves in, he had started to care, and he knew that getting away would be good for the shark. Chaz needed the chance to be safe, to just rest where there was nobody to try and hurt him. Maybe then, he might sleep enough, eat enough. Maybe he would start to recover enough that he would start finding some sense of safety, of pride in himself. It shouldn't matter to Striker whether or not Chaz was happy, he really shouldn't--but it did, and it was too late to pretend otherwise.

"Alright," he said, and turned back to look down the rugged, rocky path; they had been hiking on foot for a few hours now, and he had left Chaz down below while he went up to make sure it was safe. "Come on up. It ain't much farther now, then we'll be home." He offered his hand to help Chaz climb up the short but steep section.

From there, the ridge dropped away down to an open desert plain. Nothing but hardpan, sagebrush, and cacti as far as the eye could see--and one small house, casting a long shadow in the burning evening light.

"Fire twisters come hunting out here on occasion," he said, trying to keep his voice level, neutral, "so if the sky ever looks strange to you and you're out alone, get in between rocks to hide, or down into an arroyo. You probably won't see one, but if you do... well, they're always hungry." He twitched his tail, letting it rattle and rasp for a moment, then nodded to Chaz. "Trail gets easier from here; you wanna lead the way? That house is where we'll be stayin'... for as long as you need somewhere to call home."

[song referenced in the tags, that i am using as their tag for this, is here]