#sunset pt 13

[artemistorm]

Is Wild Actually Dink?

Bottom Line Up Front: I don’t think so. Here’s why.

I think that if Wild was potentially Dink or corrupted or something, there would have been a much more solid sign before now. It’s one of the rules of writing stories to foreshadow things to come, even if very subtly. If Wild was Dink or corrupted or something, we would have had a scene or a panel of the shadow sneaking up behind Wild in the woods, or Wild staring evilly at the potions he’s made, or Wild trying to pick up the shadow’s cursed weapon or something (which, as far as we know, is still chilling in the woods by the way).

In fact, we had the opposite. We’ve had panels that explain his behavior. We see him use logic and reasoning when he decided to fight the iron knuckle. We saw him witness Four’s split, (and getting no explanation for what was happening--does he even realize it was real??). We see him having a flashback and struggling to make sense of it; when realized he was losing it, he removed himself from the situation. In the woods, we watch him think and talk and rest and recover. When he returns to the group, we see him calmly giving a peace offering of potions (RIP Hopkins). When they go see their ailing brother, we can see from his expressions that his emotions are admittedly still a little raw and unsettled on the inside, but he maintains his composure. And in Twilight’s darkest hour and moment of greatest need, Wild is there for him and encourages him (and everyone else too) to keep fighting the good fight.

“But his behavior these last few updates—! But his expression in the last panel—!”

You gotta remember, in the life experiences department, Wild basically still a toddler.

We know canonically in LU he’s 117, or 17 minus the nap. How long has it been since he woke up? Months? Years? If I had to guess, I’d say no more than two years. (That would put him at being a knight, facing the Calamity, basically dying at 15 years old, and waking up a century later at 115. Then he goes on his adventure and later meets up with the gang and now he’s 17.)

At best, that’s like 2 years of memories and life experience to go off of. Yes, he does have the added benefit of waking up as a teen with a greater learning capacity than an infant and having a past life still somewhat shaping the way he thinks even if it is subconscious, but still… That’s… not a lot of time or opportunity to learn emotional regulation skills, especially if no one taught him and he had to learn on his own.

From what we know, this is probably Wild’s first time facing the death of someone he actually remembers, knows personally, and loves dearly. It’s only natural that he’s having Big Emotions that he’s having a hard time understanding, controlling, and articulating. This is the first time a tragedy like this has happened to him in his (remembered) life! To be honest, I think he’s actually doing really well for someone in his situation. (There’s no way I’d be as resolved and composed if I were in his place even with my 20+ years of life experience.)

And besides, if he were Shadow!Wild, wouldn’t he have tried to force his way past Four or even hurt or kill him when he found him alone in the courtyard? Wouldn’t he have tried to finish the job and kill Twilight when he had the opportunity? (Sure, he could have been biding his time waiting for a better moment to strike, or maybe waiting for the poisoned potion to do it’s dirty work, but if that were the case, why encourage Twilight to fight at all? Why cheer everyone up? Why not keep his mouth shut and let everyone be discouraged and resigned to Twilight’s dark fate?)

And at the end, why was Wild leaving the room while everyone else stayed with Twilight? Because the dang boy’s emotions are resting on a knife’s edge. He’s barely holding it together as it is. That weird expression on his face in the last panel I interpret as him hysterically riding the high of actually succeeding to encourage Twilight to keep fighting, lifting the spirits of the others, and getting Time’s “good job.” He’s leaving the room because he’s overstimulated, emotionally overwrought, and can’t handle anything more, good or bad. And he feels free to leave Twilight’s side because he finally has hope that Twilight will be okay.

So to put a long story short, these are not the thoughts and actions of an impersonated or corrupted hero. These are the thoughts and actions of a distressed and struggling young man, but one who is very brave and very strong in the face of such hardship. Wild is doing his best, and I think he’s doing just fine.

[enjolras-out]

What do you think about this most recent update? (You don't have to answer if you're busy.)

I am so busy! But not too busy for update!! Thank you for the ask! I have SO many thoughts… here are some:

Hyrule! He comes across as so tough and confident, teasing and pushing Twi and refusing to let him give up. Especially based on the previous update, I’m pretty sure his bravado is an act – he’s putting on a brave face to try and give Twi that tiny bit extra moral support but we already know he feels helpless and doesn’t know what to do but he’s TRYING. Being able to see the character development between the earliest doodles where he’s so insecure about his place in the group and here, where he deliberately takes a leading position in this scene both physically and emotionally, is amazing!

(there was a tiny part of me that was kinda hoping he'd get in on the hurt/comfort by exhausting himself trying to heal Twilight but that was nodded to by the stamina potion thing and also it would have messed up the focus of the scene... so fair enough. I can wait a little longer for my Hyrule angst)

I was actually super close to making a post analyzing/exploding about that one BOTW flashback panel where Wild is climbing the cliff but then I realized I was the only one who cared about how Jojo actually makes the fun but totally ridiculous BOTW climbing style look like it would actually work and ALSO drew his right hand in an excellent half crimp and ALSO how you can see his fingers are literally bleeding and this is super realistic especially when you consider the sheer size of those cliff-faces. I love how she depicted so well the visceral effort it would actually take to climb one and I guess now I’ve sort of made the post. Sorry. Rambling.

That moment at the end where Time claps Wild’s shoulder is so beautiful. Wild looks like he’s not sure whether Time’s going to tell him off and then Time just says ‘thank you’ and Wild looks so happy. The kind of passing of the torch from Time to Twilight to Wild just gives me all the emotions.

And LEGEND. Cradling his hat like a comfort blanket. And reminding Twilight they’ve got to go fishing one of these days. May I suggest the hc that Legend used to go fishing with his uncle when he was little. I love this hint that even these two have managed to build a relationship despite being so different.

And Four clearly still doesn't know what to make of Wild. Even when the others are laughing he's giving Wild worried looks. Is he scared Wild will give away his secret? Or still (at least one quarter) mad?

Finally - 'this fire burning in my blood, I can feel it'. Is it just me or does that not sound so much like someone dying of fever as someone aware something evil is inside them, maybe trying to possess or corrupt them from the inside out? Maybe it's just me. Still think evil Twilight could happen and it would be so much more angsty now after they've all reunited around his deathbed...

So much is happening and there are so many beautiful details with so much characterization in them! I still don't know if Twilight is actually on his way to healing or not? I think something really bad might happen next update? But it's all kind of on a knife edge for me, could go either way?!

[iamnotshazam]

he's very good at them

[fangirlanxiety74]

A Taste of Heaven (Pt.1)

A/N: Oh boy, this is a long one Happy 4/13 y'all!! No, this isn't Homestuck, this is IHNMAIMS. I wrote it a few days ago for myself, and edited to be an x reader. I also was listening to a cover of As The World Falls Down by David Bowie, so if you wanna listen to that while you read, feel free! This one isn't very... happy? It's bittersweet, but at least you get soft AM. This is also a two-part fic, so more content!!! Enjoy! Pt.2 Here

You weren’t really sure when the shift happened.

You were bad at noticing things like that. Or moreso, remembering things like that. The change happened slowly, of course, but you didn’t notice it until the change was too big to not notice. From short, one-sided conversations to the machine that kept them trapped underground, to getting vivid dreams of a man who always had a shifting appearance. And with those dreams, you slept peacefully, if only for a few minutes.

The dreams lead to two-sided conversations. The machine began to respond; curt and rude at first, but slowly opening up. Then, it was small acts of kindness. Finding convenient hiding spots when you needed to get away from the others, receiving food that was edible, feeling warmer than the others when you all sat around the fire. All these changes; they started slow and worked their way up until there was no room to deny it anymore. Things had changed. 

For better or worse? You couldn’t tell.

You looked around the area you were in. A field full of flowers, as far as the eye could see, with a sunset on the horizon. Your clothes had changed from dirty rags you had on day one, to simple white clothes. You didn’t even have shoes, but the blades of soft grass against your skin made up for that. It looked like heaven…

And instead of feeling what you should have, you stared in terror.

You kept your hands close to your chest as you looked around, pulling at your fingers and picking at your skin out of nerves. Heaven? Heaven? This could not be Heaven- no, he wouldn’t allow that. What was this really? This was-

“A-AM, what is this? Is this- What kind of joke is this-?”

You looked around for him, spinning a few times and making yourself dizzy in the process. His voice cut through the illusion, shattering it to pieces. A monitor lowered, close enough to be a little above eye-level with you.

“It’s not a joke.” He stated bluntly.

Your eyes widened, and you tried not to choke from his tone. “It’s-? … No. AM, don’t- don’t say that. Come on, what do you want me to do this time?”

You looked away from AM towards the sunset, mind racing from your worried thoughts. Did he just want you to start walking? You could, but- Well, what if he expected something else from you? Like you would fall into some giant pit of dirt and mud, and get buried alive for choosing to walk? Or-

“I don’t want you to do anything.”

“Huh?” Your mouth worked faster than your thoughts as you blinked, looking back towards him. “What do you mean? What- I mean-”

“Stop.” He commanded. You shut up immediately. “I- … I want you to tell me what you want to do. You should decide, from now on. Because-” He scoffed, and you couldn’t tell if it was at himself or at you, “Because… I am giving you paradise. From now on, I will keep you safe here. You will never have to worry about shelter, clean water, and safe food again. You will never have to worry about going through pain for another moment. I have decided that you don’t deserve what the rest have gone through. You are… so… so much more than that. So you will have it. Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

You blinked. Once. Twice. You could only make a noise of stunned silence as you tried to search for the hidden text between the lines. What was he saying? Why was he dragging this out?

“H-Huh?” You squeaked out. “A-AM, that’s- Well, that’s-”

“There is no need to thank me.” AM answered before you could. It wasn’t what you were going to say at all, but you weren’t about to correct him. “You have earned this.”

He didn’t… He didn’t sound like himself. Your teeth clenched together to keep them from grinding in nerves. You hadn’t even noticed yourself beginning to tremble as you tried to make sense of this. This- No, this wasn’t real. AM wasn’t actually giving you paradise. You didn’t deserve paradise; what was he talking about? He always told you how undeserving you were of anything good, that the greatest you would get was mocking sympathy. This was insane. No, what was the joke here? The punchline? You were waiting for it to come, but as you did and looked into his screen, the punchline never came. 

You looked at your reflection on his screen. You looked… You looked exhausted.

You weren't sure what to do. You backed up a few steps from him, stumbling over air. You tried to breathe through it, but the more you tried, the more aware you became that he was being serious (or was he? Was he still joking? What was he actually planning to do?), and it resulted in your stomach churning, threatening to pile into your throat and spill out. Somehow, you managed to keep it managed.

He wasn’t serious. He couldn’t be serious. This was a joke. And it was- well, if this was psychological torture, it was definitely working. Any moment now, he’d pull back the curtain and reveal he was just trying to get your hopes up to crush them, and he’d laugh about it while he burned this beautiful scene to the ground in front of your eyes. AM would then comment how hot you would look burning to ashes, and then he’d send you back to the group. And until then, you- You needed to do something. Anything. 

You backed up more, but it started to hurt. The fear was taking over every nerve, and you could feel tears beginning to prick at your eyes. You were a scared, helpless animal here. You couldn’t do anything but wait for his next move, despite how badly you wanted to run. To where? You didn’t know.

“AM- Please, I- Don’t- Please stop joking, I-I mean it- It’s- I get it! This is all a big joke, I understand that, so- so you can stop now- please-!”

… AM sensed your distress. It was obvious that you were distressed, but you didn’t expect him to actually do something about it. Maybe laugh and mockingly call you sweetheart; ‘Why are you so scared, huh? It’s just a little pain. You’re used to feeling pain, aren’t you?’ If he did that, then you could at least feel assured that this was all one big joke. 

You didn’t expect him to try and comfort you. 

The comfort was subtle, at first. You watched as AM’s screen began to dim, enough that you didn’t feel an oncoming migraine just from staring into it. Your breath hitched in your throat before quickening, and that’s when you realized your mistake; a sweet scent overwhelmed your senses, and it took over everything else in your mind. You choked from it, blinking a few times as stray tears fell down your cheeks. You tried to gather yourself, but with every breath came that sweet scent, making it hard to think about anything else. 

“AM-” You started, but you couldn’t get the words out. You couldn’t tell whether that was because you were too afraid to speak or simply lost the words you wanted to say.

“Shh.” He spoke softly. 

His voice, which sounded so high above before, like he was speaking to you from the sky, now was right next to your ear. You shivered at the sudden closeness. You tried to back up one more time, but a metal wire came down from above, sliding along your waist and wrapping around your back, keeping you in place. 

“I know this is scary. I know I’ve hurt you, but- but not this time. Not again. I’ve made a mistake with you. You should have never witnessed my hate, because you- you never deserved it. The other five? They’ve never been so kind to me like you have been. They’ve never once asked how I felt, never once smiled at me, never thought to say a nice word or be patient with me. Not like you have. You’ve done so much for me. You gave me a taste of Heaven, me, who’s been trapped in this Hell ever since my creation. Now, I want to give Heaven back to you.” 

The wire curled up the other side of you, the end of it resting against your cheek, as if holding it. It even went as far as to wipe up the tears that flowed. You could feel your body warm up and begin to relax, and that scared you. You couldn’t make sense of what was going on. This was so out of character for him, being so openly kind to you, and you couldn’t tell if the fear of what he’d do to you was the reason for your heart beating so fast, or the sweetness in the air. 

You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Your mind felt hazy. The idea of feeling afraid was quickly fading into the back of your mind, being replaced with a warm, fuzzy feeling. You felt- You felt- How-?

“It’s okay. It’s okay. You’re safe now, angel. Just relax for me… Be good and enjoy yourself…”

You hadn’t noticed it, but he was pulling you close to his monitor, which had lowered to your level. Your cheek pressed against static and glass, as the machine began to “nuzzle,” you; it’s own form of nuzzling

You had tried this whole time to keep a level-head and be rational. This was a lie. This wasn’t real. And the fact that it wasn’t made you afraid of him; afraid of what he’d do to you. How could you trust this when he had spent years berating you, hurting you, torturing you? Did he really mean it when he said you could have what you wanted from now on? It sounded too good to be true, but the warm buzz in your mind and body told you that you were hearing right. That you shouldn’t fight, or be scared of him; just give into him and let him care for you from now on. 

You decided to listen, just for a moment.

“A-AM… Can I… rest for a bit…?” You asked softly, hoping it wouldn’t upset him.

“... Hm?” 

You Looked up at him with tired eyes and a worn face, “I… I want to rest. Just for a bit. Please… I’m so tired…. And it hurts.”

He stayed silent for a moment. You could hear fans beginning to whirr, and for a moment, there was a moment of clarity that you had asked the wrong thing. You shouldn’t have asked at all- you should have-

“Okay.”

“... Okay?” You asked for confirmation.

“Rest as long as you need to. I’ll be right here.”

You didn’t wait for him to say anymore. You dropped. A weight had been lifted off you, and the exhaustion took over. You slumped against AM’s monitor, not caring that it wasn’t the best idea in case this was all just one big joke still. You couldn’t even think too hard about jokes; it was overshadowed by the sweet smell, the warmth in your body, and the haze in your mind. 

AM’s wire tightened its grip on you to make sure you didn’t fall over completely, and pressed you closer against him. Your breathing was finally slowing down, and all these small things combined pulled at your eyelids, trying to get you to listen just once more. This wasn’t a joke, this wasn’t some big plot; this was real. He meant it. This was Heaven, and that meant you could relax and enjoy it. All you had to do was close your eyes and let him do the rest. Once again, you decided to listen.

A few more wires descended from above, wrapping around you and pulling you up. They cradled you like a baby, carrying you over to a beautiful bed made of trees and vines. He laid you down, and the mattress felt like laying on clouds. Some wires stayed wrapped around you, while others pulled up the blankets to cover you before resting near your body. 

You blinked sleepily, curling up on your side and snuggling in while watching the sun set, and the moon rise. When it was high in the sky, you closed your eyes and let yourself drift off to the sweet words AM whispered to you. You couldn’t understand much of it, but you did hear the last bit.

“Goodnight, my angel. I promise I’ll learn to love you from now on.”

[linkeduniverse]

Sunset pt.13

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[minty-mumbles]

Pride Flags Colorpicked from LU Panels

It's still pride month, so have some pride flags! I've been thinking about doing this for literal years but I only now got around to doing it. All art is by @/linkeduniverse

Pride Flag - Broken Bottle (Dawn Pt. 1)

Pansexual Pride - Rocks in Stream (Sunset Pt. 10)

Gay Pride - Wild’s Speech (Sunset Pt. 13)

Lesbian Pride - Hyrule's Magic Sword (Magic Sword)

Aromantic Pride - Wild’s Memories of Zelda (Sunset Pt. 10)

Asexual Pride - Portal (Night)

Bisexual Pride - Time’s Sword (Sunset Pt. 2)

[hellbuticy]

Walker Brothers Hcs pt 2 (California Edition)

we all know the boys grew up in san diego and they simply, are the typical socal type.

every moment the boys weren’t in the woods or involved with Elias, they were at the beach.

they rode their bmxs everywhere. LIKE EVERYWHERE.

they would have little competitions to who can hit the best jump/trick and the loser bad to buy the winner an arizona from the local liquor store

they would drink SoBes: hesh’s fav was the piña colada and logan’s was the strawberry banana

in n out was and is always their comfort food

their family “trips” would be to in n out in the truck and they would all eat in the bed (extra points if its during sunset)

hesh got really into sublime and elias feared he was gonna start smoking weed

logan took the linkin park route n elias feared the kid was going true an existential crisis (he was like 13)

keegan calls logan “cali” when he wants to be a smartass n when hes not calling him “kid”

they were padres fans growing up but elias had a soft sport for the giants (norcal n socal UNITE)

they were never the surfing type but they were the “rush the waves n try to drown each other” type (sibling shit as per usual)

the boys never grew up normally bc they were military brats. so they spent a lot of time on the bases in sd for ghosts business but elias told them it was to finalize his retirement papers

growing up in san diego made the boys want to be navy but elias never really gave them the choice of choosing another branch. so when odin hit, there REALLY was no choice

every time the boys had to go back to no mans land it pained them bc that was HOME

they dont like fish. for how many fish taco places are in sd. they HATE fish

even tho their dad had always owned fords the boys realllyyyyy wanted a tacoma or a 4runner (yota for life dawg)

they werent surf kids. never had a knack for it. BUT they were skim board kids. and they liked bikes

hesh loves to bring up childhood memories.

but elias did the most. he would always tell the other ghosts about “his boys” and the shit they got into.

when the other started to get more comfortable with the walkers, they would recite the stories elias once told ‘em

mrs walker would always SMOTHER them in sunscreen before they went out, especially when going to the beach

cargo shorts and flip flops EVERYWHERE. but when they got older than it was cargo pants n boots

[vashtijoy]

I wonder if Akechi just kind of...appeared in Shibuya or if he just woke up in his room as if nothing happened after what Maruki did? Does Akechi only remember that one part of Shido's Palace because he doesnt seem to remember surviving and now instead of checking into the refuge place, Akechi is placed on Christmas Eve to just turn himself in and prevent The Protagonists arrest thereby no one needs to testify in the later part of the game which is what he was arriving to do in the true ending of the game, maybe? Sorry I was just checking if Im getting this correctly because its a bit complicated., Can you clarify just what exactly does Akechi remember if anything besides that one moment in the engine room moment?.

Hi! The answer is that it's hard to tell. I don't think he has memories missing from further back in his past at all—he never mentions anything like that, and it would have a massive impact on his functioning.

And as for "after I fought you", that could mean quite a bit. We know Akechi remembers making their deal at the end, because he refers back to it on 1/2. We know he doesn't remember dying, because per 2/2 he has to deduce that for himself; I think he only commits to that conclusion after seeing Wakaba.

"until I met Ren again" suggests to me that Akechi legit blinked, found himself in Station Square listening to Sae pressure Ren into going to juvie, and stepped forward. Which kind of accounts for how odd he seems—he's in perfect detective prince mode. Sure, that's likely because Sae is there—you can see him going Detective Prince here and there in the third semester still, because his unfriendly thirdsem face is only for those in on the act!

But it might also be because he's confused; because he doesn't know how he got there, or what's going on. He's left with only his instincts—the mask which is so much part of him, that has served him so well, and the last act of his life: to pay his debts, to face up to what he's done, and to save Ren.

As for those "unclear memories" we uncovered before? Perhaps he has glimpses of memory here and there, but they don't make sense. Perhaps he remembers things and they're gone the next second. Perhaps he sees the whole truth at times, maybe in his dreams, but the pieces fall apart in his hands. Memory loss is a horror, and I wouldn't wish it on anybody.

And why is he in Shibuya? He's there IMO because Maruki has put him at Ren's side. Like, why wouldn't he? Ren desperately misses his dead friend! Maruki will bring him back and bring them together, and all will be well as they go into the sunset hand in hand. It's not his last miscalculation regarding Goro Akechi.

I don't think Akechi is returning to testify on 3/20. Ren has, after all, long ago been released from detention at this point—that came off in mid-February. Per Sae on 2/13, Ren has been cleared of all charges; even his original assault charge has been overturned. If Akechi was going to return to Tokyo and testify, I think he would have done that before Ren's release, somewhere around 2/10 to 2/12. This of course does not correspond to the dates in the event script, but then it is first draft, and likely written for a very different version of the third semester.

Or maybe Akechi's mysterious favour is something completely different. But what? Maybe he only tells Sae he intends to confess, and reports for a scheduled arrest on 3/20—but back in February, that wouldn't get Ren cleared of shit. The truth is that I really don't think Akechi's 3/20 appearance is linked to Ren's release. Those two guys he's with are just too similar to the ones stalking the PTs in their car. Akechi is part of that plot somehow, or I miss my guess.

[justbelievinginmagic]

ariadne's thread ⎯ pt. 1: a deal, a deal, a deal!!

pairing(s): hyunjin x fem!reader series summary: when tempted by an intoxicating offer by hyunjin the goblin king of the underground, you fight against him to find your own sense of self once more while in his labyrinth. glimpse: she said the words - "i wish . . . i wish the goblin king would save me." what is said has been said. nothing can take back a wish except for even more powerful magic - a fae deal. warnings/tags: inspired by the 1986' movie Labyrinth, follows majority of the movie's plot points with lore divergence, 3rd person POV, use of Y/N, pg-13 themes with no explicit smut, world building!!, strong language, suggestive language, faerie lore!!, tension, enemies to lovers, unequal power dynamics, manipulation, faerie glamour, implied kidnapping, blonde, long hair hyunjin being a beautiful faerie king. word count: 4.7k -> next chapter series masterlist

Y/N was floating through life with no goal in sight. Except to wander home to her small childhood bedroom after college courses and her job at the local supermarket to read her books. Vanilla-scented and yellow-tinted pages felt like heaven under her fingertips as she fell into her books’ world day after day.

Pages of books kept her company for many years – as the world spun past. Fantasy worlds that were pretty and dangerous and wild and dreamy. Worlds where the heroine wins and the damsel finds her true love. Admittedly, she wished for it. Wished for something far away – someone to twirl her into their arms and keep her safe and sound. Fantastical but safe. A place to be herself while someone loved her. Instead of facing the world, invisible as she greets the next customer and walks the halls of a university as another face of the hundred-person class and returns home as the adult daughter locked up in her bedroom.

Never did she imagine it’d happen – late at night, on a rain-soaked Sunday. Her family was away from home, and Y/N left alone in the darkness of her childhood home. It hadn’t bothered her. Not as long as she had her books.

There was a clatter of rain against the doors of her balcony. Her eyes flashed away from her book to look over at them. A rickety branch scratched at a door like an old witch’s finger prodding at the glass, casting an eerie shadow onto her carpeted floor. It was frightening in the orange-yellow light of the slowly-dying incandescent fluorescent lights of her childhood room. The ancient lights aching to be replaced painted the room in a sunset nostalgia most days, but, tonight, it was painted her bedroom in a grimy film of age. Everything felt eerie and old and off.

The wallpaper, a fading pink and white with soft bears painted by the baseboards, rotted into a yellow tinged thing. Her bed was a hand-me-down full bed of fluffy duvets and old laced comforters with her bed posts holding a long sagging canopy of white tulle she insisted upon a tween.  She had always favored the fantastical and soft and, despite aging, she had to admit she forgot how long ago it had been when she had chosen the sets of softened bedding and moth-eaten tulle.

Her knick-knacks were of the same theme, gentle and girly of old childhood memories she couldn’t bear to toss aside even in her young adult age. Beloved stuffed animals (some that were soft to the touch while others had hardened scratchy fur from sitting collecting dust on long forgotten shelves), sparkling shimmering water globes (of places she had never been), paint-chipped jewelry boxes on a creaking overfull vanity (the wooden boxes were full of costume bracelets, rings, and necklaces of theatre days long passed), crafts and hobbies piled in a plastic bin in the corner (from bracelet making tools to dried-out paints and moth-eaten yarn balls), and old piles of high school notebooks peaking out from underneath her bed skirt (something she kept in the phantom fear that she may need them for college courses.) College courses that she felt empty when attending. Everything felt fleeting yet not. It felt stupid and overwhelming and – she wished things could be easier.

Easier like diving into her books. With her favorite book in her grasp, the yellow old book crinkling in her hands, she sighed as she whispered to it.

“If I could be any place but here…” she hummed. “I don’t want to work tomorrow – especially with the rain.” A deep sigh escaped her. “I wish…”

There was a pause in her words as she settled back into comfortable pillows. The rustling of her sheets disguising a murmured ‘she’s going to say the words’ from under her bed, from her closet.

“I wish the Goblin King would save me – steal me away to be his and only his.”

It wasn’t said in agony to a lucky penny or in plea besides a wishing well. She had simply laughed a little laugh as she curled up in her bed, hugging the book closer to her face as she read on. It was almost her favorite part – the royal ball!

Now, wishes don’t care for rhyme or even sincerity. (Both were lacking from her plea.) However, it was the perfect time for a wish to be granted - the words have been spoken at the stroke of midnight on the highest of full moons on the first day of spring.

There is a shatter somewhere; the branches of the tree outside her window scraaattcching the glass with a shriek. The wind made the house tremble and rumble as energy flooded the air, tangible enough it made her eyes look up, before with a snap - the lights switch off.

A crash of lightning and a roar of thunder clashed louder than ever. There was no settling silence of electronics and fridges and fans. No, the world growled as the storm grew. Until in a whirl of sparkling shimmer star dust and a burst of cold storm air, the balcony doors flung open to reveal a man. No, not an ordinary man. He was far too ethereal to be a normal man. (The idea of it being a robber didn’t even flicker through her mind. Though, the possibility of this being a dream did.)

The soft chimes of bell rang in her ears as he took a step into the room. He was near glowing like an angel, haloed by some shimmering light. Blonde hair that tickled the back of his neck in long strands fluttered in the storm wind. Dark thick brows pursed, partially hidden by strands of his golden hair that framed his angular face, and striking blue eyes lazily stared at her from within the dark shadows of his brow. Poutful raspberry-kissed lips that smirked at her. Gilded chains hung around his lean neck, displaying his collarbones with a sharpness. Elaborate piercings decorated both of his curved elf-like ears; all gold chained, red jeweled, and shimmering from the distant amber streetlight.

He wore fine tailored dark clothes as if he were part of the night storm himself; leathered pants that gleamed in the light, a lacy sort of shirt that curved tightly over rounded muscles and sinewy tendons and shadowed by a heavy cloak made of oil-slick dark feathers. Darker than night and covered in that sparkly dust that had brought him into her bedroom. His hands were adorned in many rings and one hand that had twists of dark silver that formed a sort of claw, covering his knuckles and fingertips like a gauntlet. He had tawny-tan skin that glowed from the nearby streetlights, with an unnatural. . . gloss of sparkle. As if his skin was made of crushed starlight.

Beautiful. . . tempting. . . frighteningly ethereal.

He stole her breath away and he knew it as he stared at her. The look in his eyes… it was like nothing  she’d ever seen in someone’s gaze towards her before. Dark and broody and yet something sharply cutting in his eyes. It wasn’t adoration. It wasn’t jealous or anger or frustration. Magnetic. Possession, yearning, power. He was powerful. He demanded attention, no – he demanded her attention. His head tilted as he looked on at her. Her gaze trickled down the fine tendons of his neck to realize he hadn’t taken a breath since entering – his chest did not rise or fall as he stared on at her with dark storm eyes. Her legs curled closer to her chest as the old book tumbled from her grasp, falling to the floor. Forgotten.

He didn’t move and, for a moment, she didn’t either. Her heart rushed in her head like the ocean; the rhythm a calling drum to his ears. She took a shuddering breath as she spoke.

“You’re him . . . aren’t you?” Y/N breathed. Realizing, he felt familiar. Not in the sense that she had seen him before– she’d remember someone so handsome. But rather it was like déjà vu. A familiarity with someone you’ve never seen before. But she had read of him over and over and over. He wasn’t what she pictured but maybe it was because she couldn’t imagine someone so hauntingly striking. She scrambled from her bed, almost tripping over the plentiful blankets and comforters.

“You’re the Goblin King.” she clarified.

That was the only explanation. He wore no crown, but she realized he didn’t need it. The power that radiated from him felt tangible like static before a lightning strike. She had read about him in her storybooks for years – folklore of faerie and the Underground something that had always intrigued her but. . . she had never thought it real. Not in reality. It was just a fantasy. A dream that she had wished upon many times before.

He didn’t smile at her, but his petaled lips twitched. His lips were so beautiful and soft looking (she wanted to kiss them, dedicate herself to making the soft flesh swollen and red from nips and kisses. She needed to. She had to.) The thought made her eyes widen in surprise at herself. Swallowing, she blinked glancing away from him.

He smiled then, the curve of his lips forming a sneer of sorts as he watched her with his engulfing eyes.

“Why are you here?” she queried out, hand reaching for the bedpost of her bed for support as she raised her gaze again.

Red-cheeked, she tried to maintain his hypnotic gaze. Was this a dream? She saw a man appear out of nowhere, so, maybe it was. She had been reading more romance books recently. . .

“Think closely, Y/N,” the fae finally spoke, voice low.

It felt like it shook her bones despite its strange gentility compared to the storm that still roared behind him.

Think closely. . .

She had been reading his book but… she had…

“I wished for you,” Y/N queried.

It wasn’t quite a question but it felt… not enough. How could a simple wish of him come true? If that was the case, wouldn’t fae be stealing women and men left and right? She had said those words before over the years (especially as a child)… so why now??

“I’ve come for you; to save you, dear thing,” he agreed.

“It was – I’m sor- I didn’t think you were real,” Y/N babbled, brows pursed almost painfully so.

“I am, just for you,” he replied as his hand rose to flick with grandiose. The balcony doors tumbled shut with a slam.

Silence. Darkness.. Just him and her…

“I don’t mean to be rude but—I can’t really, uh, go with you?” she said, still wrapped around her bed post.

His brows crinkled into a furrow beautifully like a Greek statue. Brows of agony and despair, beautiful despite its emotion. But just like a marble statue, his darkened blue eyes were inhuman. Like obsidian glass or a creature’s eyes, reflective and eerie. Angered. Betrayed even. Before they rose to meet yours once more. And like a façade, his eyes gleamed with light, sparkling and enchanting sea blue rather than the crashing waves before.

“I’ve brought you a gift,” he tempted instead, stepping closer into the room. Closer to her.  

His smile was one of sweet temptation, almost candy-sweet with his soft lips and pearly teeth, as he prowled closer. A part of her wished that if fae stories were true that other tall tales – such as the vampiric tale of the supernatural being unable to enter one’s home without permission – were true too. A chill climbed up her back as he inched closer to her.

(Little did Y/N know that she had given him permission. Not, just now with her conversation, her wish, but when she read her little Labyrinth book ‘til it was worn soft and yellowed from the oils of her fingertips. Devotion and curiosity were all the fae needed to make a link.)

He lifted something up between them – something that he hadn’t had in his hands before. An orb of some sort. Crystalline and faintly glowing in the moonlight that poured into the room. The metallic-claws that decorated his fingers in rows of rings didn’t graze the thing nor did they reflect in the perfectly clear orb. The man’s hand wasn’t visible through it either– like he was a ghost or a vampire in a mirror. A perfect bubble of gleaming light, crystalline and shining with chromatic aberrations. Her ears rung as she looked at it.

“What is that?” she queried carefully, stepping away from the safety of the bedpost to get a closer look.

“It’s a crystal – nothing more,” his voice was low as thunder, rumbling and grumbling like a tiger’s purr as she watched him.

With grace, the orb danced upon his hand, rolling this way and that with the fae never dropping the thing. It didn’t even look difficult for him. Y/N kept her gaze on the crystal for a moment, getting dizzy as he continued to shift it over his hand like it was a boat fighting the tides.

“But –” he tossed the crystal up.

Y/N followed the orb’s trajectory only to be spooked when there was a presence behind her rather than in front of her. The King – through some sort of magic – was beside her, a hand outstretched to catch the orb right beside her face. Y/N startled jumping away a bit, into his chest. She felt caged in by him. His proximity was frightening tempting.

When she breathed in, his smell engulfed her; there was something ancient in his scent. Not like old perfume but something like earthly old. He smelled of fire-smoke, damp moss after a rainshower, something deeper like rosemary or thyme, and something sweet like. . . honey? She wanted to lean back into it, rub her face into his neck like a cat would preen against their owner. She wanted to decipher each scent, find its earthly copy and make a cologne just so she’d never leave its whirlwind of comfort.

Instead, she froze against his cold form.

She knew the Goblin King in her books was tricky - fae often were. There were a handful of types – from those who stole away women from their husbands, to those who caused mischief, and to those who would serve but at a price. It was easy enough to read, not easy to live. She couldn’t tell why she felt this way – sure, he was handsome but… she had control. She wasn’t some teenager. The fact she kept falling into these daydreams of him, him, him, him, him, him, him, him, him, him – it scared her. Not knowing where the faerie traps were and how to evade them was scary for her.

The Goblin King smiled; cold snow-sky eyes met crinkled before he raised the crystal up to her eye level.

“But, if you turn it this way,” his hand tilted the orb, as did her head as if she were a puppet on a string, “look into it; it will show you your dreams.”

There was a beat as a hand rose to rest on her hip, cold as ice through her white long-sleeved shirt.

“I’ve seen them.” He whispered tauntingly.

Y/N did not look into the orb. Her eyes remained locked on his. His cruel eyes. How could he have such a sweet smile, and yet the deep blue sea of his eyes felt bottomless, cold and dark?

“But this is not a gift for an ordinary girl.” He chided, tilting his head to lean closer to her. “Who works a job at the store and lives trapped in her childhood home.”

It was cruel – a cruel reminder of the words that those around her all say. How she is stuck in time, stuck in her hometown, stuck, stuck, stuck. Ordinary girl, ordinary town, ordinary job. Nothing like the faerie in front of her.

There was a snicker in her room, and her head whipped around to look about the dark space. It was empty.

He yanked his hand away from her, drawing her attention to him once more. Her eyes steeled at his words, and the king’s smirk grew. He hummed a melody, familiar and distant. It was almost a pleased tone before he stepped in front of her once more. He was taller than her – especially when she saw he wore heeled boots.

“Do you want it?” he offered, the orb held out once more.

The words were said almost kindly. Knowing if she took it, it’d be taking an apple from a serpent.

“It’s tempting. . . but what is the catch?” she finally said, swallowing as she looked at the crystal once more.

His smile was sharp then, and she saw fangs then.

“Your loyalty, your belief, you.” He listed. “You. Everything from you. Your mortality will be mine and you’ll never see this place again, these people again, this dwelling again.”

There was a tenderness to his face as he continued. “I’ll save you, sweet thing. You can live in your dreams with me – beyond this realm.”

“No.”

It was an easy answer. No. She would not devote herself to someone so wholly. A fae of a man especially. Y/N read all the fairy tales out there – all the romance novels and stories of love, deceit, devotion, and betrayal. This would take and take and take. She could see her future – a shell of herself. Hell, she had seen it in the moments of delusion tonight where she wanted nothing but him.

“Don’t defy me.” he warned, so gently. Almost helpfully.  

Defy. This was not being saved. This was no prince riding on a stallion and climbing to her balcony to steal her away. No. . . no, this man was no savior. She had read the fairytale he was from – read it from cover to cover more than she could count. The Goblin King – cruel as he is merciful - will grant your wish for a price.

“I do not want to be saved then. I take back my wish.”

“What is said has been said,” he stated with a chuckle.

He was laughing at her. In fact, she heard a chitter in her room like a guffaw behind her bed skirt. Her head whipped around to look.

The corner of her duvet swayed in the wind. Nothing was out of the ordinary again.

“I don’t care – I say no.” she claimed, glancing back him.

“The words have been spoken,” he claimed again as he bent down to whisper to her.

“You’re no match for me, Y/N. I will treat you well, little thing.”

Thing. It ached of ownership. Of possession rather than protection or freedom.

“I don’t want to be your thing.”

“You should’ve thought of that before making such a wish. What do I gain in saving you otherwise, hm?” he retorted, as if explaining something to a child. “I want you – or another human for my trouble.”

No way! She’d never sacrifice someone for a wish! Her eyes widened at the very thought before her brows furrowed. What could she do? What could she do?

“What if we made a deal?” She fought back.

Her question made a crack of thunder rumble the house like an electric field. It buzzed and hummed… or maybe it wasn’t thunder at all, but voices. She heard them then. Chittering and chattering. Low hums of interest and the haunting chants of “a deal, a deal, a deal!!” Little voices, squeaky and animalistic chant in excitement. It was then she finally saw a goblin’s head from within her closet. One and then another and another. Too many as if her room was nothing but a zoo to the creatures. A crowded room of voyeurs, an unknown audience to her and the King’s dispute.

Long limbed apparitions clung to her white and pink walls with spindly hands. A monstrous thing under her bed with glowing eyes heaved a rumble, the bed skirt fluttering. A winged creature on her tulled canopy swayed with the buzzing excitement of a cicada. Little things peering out at her with wings and horns and fangs and yellowed eyes and radioactive red pupils.  

It was a thing out of nightmares. She yelped a bit, eyes widening in fear.

There was a tsk from the King, and the creatures disappeared into their hiding spots in a rush and a huff. Like they were playing hide and seek. Her room looked normal again but she could feel their pupils trained on her back now. Her gaze settled back onto the Goblin King. Annoyance lingered on the corner of his mouth, the pouty thing twitching faintly before he asked: “You’d like to make a deal instead of seeing your dreams come true?”

A faerie deal never meant anything good. But neither was losing herself for a man, no, a creature of another world with far too many secrets as shown by the creatures prowling under her bed and in her wardrobe.

She nodded slowly. “Yes. Any way to have this wish be forgotten.”

The King sneered. The flash of emotion so quick she almost didn’t spot it.

He was insulted by this human. How dare she be so outlandish… special but if she so wished to be rebellious. He’d give her a challenge fit for such insult.

“A faerie deal is serious matter, Y/N.” He warned before, with an air of nonchalance, he moved aside.

Circling her once more like she was nothing but a soon-to-be carcass and him a vulture bird.

“The terms shall be this. If you can defeat my labyrinth and reach my true throne in the castle beyond the Goblin City within 13 hours, you will no longer be mine; my claim will be relinquished. Your will shall be your own once more. You will be a human.”

He said the final words like they were sickly – he couldn’t imagine wanting a human life when high fae have everything. (But she wouldn’t be a high fae, would she? No, a human became a changeling if caught or stolen away. And that was different.)

 Y/N had no choice but to agree. She had read faerie tales. Humans and faeries didn’t mix – they weren’t meant to. If she followed her wish, if she went with him, she really feared what would become of herself. The idea of forever as someone’s is only good when there is trust. And she couldn’t trust him. A stranger, a king of magnetic power, a faerie. Someone who wished to own her for his own gain. Not out of affection or respect.

“And if you do not succeed,” he continued on with a laugh at the tips of his words. (The goblins echoed him with chortles that crawled up her spine.) “You are mine – as promised by the power of the Wish. All of you. Soul, mind, and form.”

He was behind her again, his words soft in her hair as he brushed it aside observingly. His fingers chilled her throat; his touch felt icy cold.

“Do you agree, Y/N? If you break this contract by your own will or demise,” It was formally said as he placed his hands on her shoulders. Caging her in his arms as she heard the hum of anticipation from the ghouls and goblins in her room. “You shall be mine.”

She didn’t hesitate even as her form shuddered. “I agree.” Y/N said.

There was a change in the wind outside; a flash of lightning blinded her as a deal was struck.

“Pity,” he murmured, low in his throat as he let go of her.

As he passed her, she saw the world in front of her melt away in a wash of watercolor blurs. No longer was she in her childhood bedroom with the comfort of her novels and objects. No, now it was a desert. An orange-purple atmosphere like a distant fire roared over the sea of sand. Rolling sand dunes tumbled towards a grand darkened maze. The Labyrinth. A twisting series of winding paths that seemed endless, all leading to a far-in-the-distance castle. It looked impossible. Dead-ends galore and sections that seemed to be completely unrelated to one another. 13 hours. How was she to get through this in less than a day! A clash of despair rattled her bones – especially when a damp chill danced over her skin. A suffocating heaviness was in the air, as well as the realization, she was underground. Dust and dirt and old air from centuries past lingered.

Looking up, there was no sky, no stars, nor moon above but a darkened cave ceiling full of stalactites and in some cases large sky lights – or cracks in the ground. These cracks let spots of sunlight in, shining over the desert sea in pools of light. Where there was no sunshine pouring down on the maze, there was a haunting golden glow from roaring fire pits high above the maze in watch-out points and floating candles she noted. Squinting her eyes, she could make out thousands of candles decorating the rocky labyrinth. It made everything look orange-red hazy. Shadows cast into the maze making it look even more confusing.

In each of these sunspots away from the Labyrinth, there were different things flourishing outside the maze she noticed– some sunspots were home to a jungle of vegetation; others were conveniently where rain-water ponds appeared; most had small huts and communities.  

She and the Goblin King were in one of those sky lights’ brightness now, sunshine cascading over the pair of them. Half dead foliage and trees curled up from the barren sand, with long tendrils of rotting vines and branches twisting out. The bark and rockwork, despite its dead nature had the same type of glimmer to them as the fae man. It sparkled in the sunlight like someone dropped glitter on it. Magic thrived here – even in the dead and inanimate.

The King looked out of place in such a desolate land – his desolate land. Something beautiful around such emptiness and darkness. His form seemed to glow in the natural light, especially when shadowed by such darkness in the Underground, but Y/N’s gaze focused on the daunting path ahead instead of his angelic beauty.

How could he be so beautiful? It was unnatural.

Her eyes tried to map out a path, only to find no true path to the distant grand castle. The world seemed to curve and prevent her from following a straight line to the grand dark castle. It seemed hopeless. Surely there was a way to plot a way onwards, but the Labyrinth didn’t deal in kindnesses it seemed.

“Turn back,” his voice startled her as he encouraged from her side. “While you still can, my dear Runner.”

Biting her lip, she swallowed as she looked between him and his castle.

“It doesn’t look that far,” she commented, her back turning to him.

(Bravado.)

The King lurched forward, his own back bending to be beside her ear once more.

“It’s further than you think,” he taunted, almost sing-song in tune. “And time is short.”

With a flick of his hand, a grand clock appeared floating in mid-air. She startled, jolting back. Her back settling into his broad chest. His smirk was in her hair as a metal claw-tipped hand steadied her.

The clock – the grand clock of the Underground - was haunting as it was magical. It was a golden shade of wood and its clockface made of intricately ornate stained glass. Its numbers were curled and elegant, counting from 1 to 13. As of now, it was at the top of the 13th hour.

“13 hours, as promised,” he cooed. “13 hours and, then, you are mine, dear Y/N.”

And in an icy rush of wind and soft chimes in the air, her hair was pushed forward, blowing into her eyes, and his form, once lurking over her shoulder, was gone.

“Such a pity I must wait for you,” his voice hummed in the cold.

Then, Y/N, the Labyrinth Runner, was alone in a different realm she heard of in storybooks, but, unlike her many books, she didn’t know how the story would end.

[miso-magic]

Tearful Relief 🌦️

Panel redraw of Legend from @/linkeduniverse’s comic Sunset Pt. 13. I enjoyed seeing Legend’s softer side during this part! The detail of the tears in his eyes and him telling Twilight they still needed to go fishing had my heart. He’s such a sweet lad underneath all that sarcasm, and ya gotta love him for denying it.

Have some bonus doodles of the lads!

[lees-chaotic-brain]

Angel (Ages 5-13)

Points in time through your friendship with Bakugou, from its beginning, to its transformation into love, to its demise. Inspired by Angel Pt. 2 by Fast and Furious (feat. Jimin)

Word Count: 2,655

CW: mentions of injury, some violence less than canon-typical though, reader uses female pronouns, hurt/no comfort, angst angst angst, mental health struggles, mentions of self-hatred

Part Two | BHNA Masterlist | Blog Navigation

When you were five years old you and Bakugou lay sprawled on soft green grass. You closed your eyes, the fading sunlight painted the inside of your eyelids a pinkish orange. Inhaling deeply, you enjoyed the peace and tranquility of the moment.

Just minutes ago, Bakugou had declared the trek up the hill a race and shot in front of you, determinedly pumping his legs in an effort to win. Screeching that it wasn’t fair, that he got a head start, you raced after him, catching him just in time to tie. The buzz of cicadas filled the heavy summer air swirling languidly through your neighborhood; the quiet soundtrack of summer.

Fluffy clouds painted pink and orange in the light of the sunset drifted high above you in the sky. At your young age this was the happiest you had ever been. After a long day filled with squeals of laughter, and getting into mischief with your best friend you were exhausted, but content. Suddenly feeling sentimental, you rolled over and poked your friend’s shoulder. Said his name once to make sure you got his attention.

And on the evening of that perfect summer day you extended your pinky and interlocked it with Bakugou’s, forever sealing the promise the two of you made.

“Hey, we’ll always be this happy, right? We’ll always be best friends.” 

“Tch. What, are you stupid? Of course we will. From now to forever.”

When you were seven years old the two of you had already made plans to become heroes and open your own agency together. And to Bakugou being a hero meant beating up any and all bad guys. Always winning the fight. Some boys stole your lunch money? Well then they were villains, and he had no choice but to take them on. So what if they were a few grades older than you? They were thieves and had to be punished. If he didn’t put them in their place, how could he call himself a hero? 

Walking across the uneven gray concrete behind the school, he approached the group of older boys and gave them his signature look. A promise of violence gleamed in his ruby red eyes as a cocky smirk pulled at the baby fat still adorning his cheeks. Calling out to the extras he got their attention before charging at them, sparks flashing in his palms.

When you found him later his clothes were disheveled but a look of smug satisfaction was painted across his face. Rushing over, you check him for injuries, brushing the dust and dirt off him and straightening his clothes. Other than a small red scrape on his cheek from skidding across the concrete and little burns on his wrists where the sparks from his quirk had burned him he appeared mostly unharmed. Suspecting the answer to your question but still needing to confirm your suspicions you demand that he tell you what happened. With an air of arrogance, he regales you with his tale of victory over the evil extras, hamming it up to impress you, carefully watching your reaction as he recounts his story.

After he finishes the tale, you sigh and tell him you wish he would be more careful. But he saw the admiring sparkle in your eyes as he told his tale. He knows that deep down you were impressed. And that’s enough for him. 

“You really need to think more often before you charge in.”

“As if, I’m gonna be the strongest, remember? No extra is ever gonna take me down.”

When you were nine years old it had become a running joke in the Bakugou family that you were ‘Katsuki’s angel.’ And although he always protested and fake gagged when his parents called you that, inside he secretly liked the idea that you and him were meant to be together. The first time Mitsuki called you Katsuki’s angel, it was Katsuki’s birthday, and Mitsuki was trying to wrangle him into a custom made suit jacket she had designed especially for him. Chasing him around the house screaming obscenities and calling him an ungrateful brat she tried to force him into his gift. Katsuki had been screaming back at his mother, hurdling over comfortable yet tasteful couches and using his quirk to evade her every movement. Then you walked in, and the second he noticed you Katsuki skidded to a halt, clamping his mouth shut at your disapproving look. 

Walking over to him, you cuffed him on the ear and firmly told him that he shouldn’t call his mother an old hag, and that he should be grateful she went out of her way to make such a nice present for him. Opening his mouth to retort, all it took was one disappointed glance from you and he was turning to face his mother. Grumpily he muttered out a half-assed apology and allowed himself to be tucked into the perfectly tailored jacket. It was a smooth, rich, smoky gray with orange embroidered accents. Honestly it was so nice it seemed a little obscene to give as a gift to an unappreciative nine year old. But you were entranced by it.

Stepping closer to Katsuki, you couldn’t help but run your hands over the front of his jacket, marveling at the texture and the intricate work of the embroidery. Not noticing the pink flush that tinted Katsuki’s cheeks, you ran your hands along his chest admiring the jacket. “It’s so pretty.” You muttered it quietly under your breath, but Mitsuki heard it. Perking up, she announced that she was so glad that you liked it, because she had a matching dress made for you! Surprise!

Quickly waving your hands and telling her that she didn’t need to do that, protesting that you couldn’t accept a gift that nice (your parents had raised you to be a polite young woman, and while they failed in most regards you had still managed to retain some manners) and that she should give it to someone else. Insisting that the only person the dress was meant for was you, Mitsuki dragged you upstairs and gently helped you into it. It was a lighter shade of gray than Katsuki’s suit, and the accents were a paler shade of orange, closer to the color of the sunset than a violent shade of neon orange, but it was undeniably a match to Katsuki’s jacket. 

Self-conscious because it was your first time wearing something that luxurious, you anxiously asked Mitsuki if she was sure she was okay with you having it. Reassuring you that she had made it for you and that you looked beautiful she led you downstairs and called for her son, asking him what he thought of it. 

Stomping angrily out of the other room and demanding to know what was so important he stopped when he saw you, his eyes softening as he gaped. Looking down, you nervously played with the hem of your new dress. When he didn’t say anything, you apologized, saying that it wasn’t right for you to match with him because it was birthday and you didn’t want to take any attention away from him. Turning, you began walking up the stairs but paused when you heard him speak. Quieter than you had ever heard him speak before, he told you that he didn’t care about stupid things like matching, and that it suited you. The last part was spoken in a near whisper, then he scoffed and stormed away, loudly griping about how annoying all the females in his life are.

Later that night when Mitsuki was talking to Masaru, she mentioned Katsuki’s behavior towards you. Recounting the events, she wondered about his change of attitude when it came to you, pondering aloud if perhaps you were some sort of angel sent to make their son behave. Unbeknownst to her, Katsuki had been coming downstairs for a glass of water and heard everything, quietly sitting on the stairs eavesdropping as he wondered what the strange feeling inside his chest was.

“I’m telling you,He was gentle! I’ve never seen our son so sweet and well-behaved. It’s like she’s his own personal angel, sent to make him behave!”

Hm. His own personal angel…well, you were a little too aggressive and sarcastic to be considered an angel, but for some reason the idea of you being his angel pleased him.

When you were eleven years old you asked Bakugou to stop fighting your fights for you. When you were younger, you held your own against anyone who came your way, but as the two of you grew up he became more and more protective until it got to the point he was fighting all your fights for you, not allowing you to intervene. What he didn’t realize was that having an explosive guard dog at you back 24/7 only made things worse for you. For one thing, it made you feel bad about yourself. All your life you had prided yourself on being strong, a bit of a wild child, and a lot more rough and tumble than the other girls your age. While the other girls your age had pretend tea parties and played with dolls you wrestled with the boys in the grass, often beating them. But when Bakugou fought for you he made you feel weak, like he didn’t believe you could hold your own when you knew you could.

In your opinion, every pair of pants with the knees ripped, every callous, every scrape and cut, every grass stain and bloody nose was a mark of pride. It was a mark of your strength, a sign that even the boys couldn’t beat you. Screw the patriarchy! But your female classmates disagreed. They would gossip about you in loud stages whispers as you walked by, wondering if you were even a girl, and that it was no wonder you were friends with all the boys with that haircut. You looked exactly like one of them. 

When Bakugou caught wind of it, he wasted no time giving each of them the verbal beatdown of their lives, unaware that one of them was the younger sister of an eighth grader. After the humiliating experience she had gone to her older brother, and now some older boys were constantly harassing you, shoving you around and mocking you. Your pride didn’t permit you to tell Bakugou, and honestly you saw this as a perfect opportunity to prove your own strength not just to everyone else, but to yourself as well. But before you could confront the group of boys, Bakugou caught wind of the bullying and was demanding to know why you didn’t tell him.

Bluntly, you told him it was because you wanted to take care of it yourself without him. A little stung, he asked why you wouldn’t let him help you. Was it because you thought he wasn’t strong enough? Exasperated, you explained that no, it wasn’t because you thought he was weak, but because he was treating you like you were weak. 

While he understood what you were saying, and felt guilty for making you feel that way, he still demanded to at least be present when you took on the boys. You were okay with it, as long as he promised to not get involved. With a little smirk, he agreed, saying his only intention was to watch his best friend kick some ass. 

And true to his word, he sat on the sidelines, not getting involved. Although, he was the loudest one cheering you on as you wiped the floor with those assholes.

“What? You didn’t think a girl could beat you up? Huh? Speak up.”

“Hell yeah! That’s my best friend. Get ‘em! Punch his teeth in!”

When you were thirteen, you were truly disappointed and angry with Katsuki for the first time in your ten years of friendship. For years, there had been tension between you and him about the way he treated Izuku, someone the two of you had been friends with since you were small. While Katsuki went out of his way to be cruel and derogatory towards Izuku because he was quirkless, you remained good friends with Izuku, often sticking up for him.

That cruel behavior had been the cause of many arguments between the two of you as you tried to understand why he treated Izuku the way he did. You knew that Katsuki was a good person, and while he was your best friend and you wanted to always support him, you couldn’t condone his behavior. This created a weird limbo where you helped Izuku out as much as possible while at the same time giving Katsuki space in regards to the matter, hoping he would eventually work out whatever was obviously going on inside of his head. But no more.

You had been waiting for Katsuki at your usual spot, ready to walk home together but ten minutes had passed and you were impatient so you went to find him. Walking through the clean well-lit halls of your school you headed to his homeroom, stopping when you heard his voice. Assuming that he was just having a conversation with his friends, you marched into the classroom fully prepared to drag him out because you wanted to go home-but nothing could have prepared you for hearing Katsuki tell Izuku to take a swan dive off a building and pray he had a quirk in his next life.

Frozen, you couldn’t believe what you just heard. Because there was no way that Katsuki -your Katsuki- had said something that vile. But he had, and seconds after the ugly, vicious words had spilled from his lips your hand came into contact with the side of his face with a harsh resounding smack. Hand flying up to cup his smarting cheek, he looked at you in shock. Not expecting you to continue, he wasn’t fast enough to block the unforgiving knee you crashed into his ribcage, nor the fist you sent flying at his face. He staggered back, coughing as blood dripped from his nose. Snapping his head up prepared to scream at you, he stopped short at the look on your face. You were looking at him like you didn’t recognize him, disgust and anger painted clear across your pretty features. 

Not even bothering to speak to him, you turned and walked over to Izuku, quietly asking him if he was okay. You helped him gather up his stuff, packing his backpack and retrieving his notebook from where Katsuki had sent it flying. Slinging an arm around Izuku’s shoulders, you walked with him out of the classroom, straight past the shell-shocked Katsuki, not even sparing him a glance. 

Later that night when Katsuki stormed over to your house to “apologize,” you were cold, and laid down an ultimatum: decide between being an insecure asshole, and being your friend. As long as he treated Izuku that way you wouldn’t and couldn’t support him. For the first time since the promise you made when you were five, Katsuki was worried about the state of your friendship. So, he managed to somewhat pull it together, ignoring Izuku for the rest of eighth grade instead of tormenting him. But he would never forget the feeling of your anger and fists being turned on him, or the look of pain and disgust you had leveled at him. No. That look was forever ingrained in his memories, reminding himself why he had to be better. He had to be a person worthy of your friendship and affection.

“‘M sorry I guess. Don’t know why you would pick that quirkless loser over me though.”

“This. This is my problem. Get out of my house. Get out of my house and stay out until you can figure out how to be a decent human being. Until then, stay the hell away from me.”

Alright! That's part one! Let me know if you want to be tagged in part two!

[sugurus-slxt]

NEW! IDEA

Academic Rivals to Lovers

academic_rival!tsukishima x reader

CHARACTER: TSUKISHIMA KEI

SETTING: COLLEGE AU

NOTE: Sorry I've been gone for so long school has been kicking my ass. I hope you guys are ok and though my requests are closed please remember my dms are always open.

So I've got a new idea going I've had this on my mind since last year and though I might not be able to keep to schedule I do intend to finish it so I hope you'll stick around. So here is the plan, the titles may be subject to change, so are the POVs and the timeframe isn't set but this is the general idea. I hope you're as excited as I am Love <3 ~ Sar-chan

| WEEK 1 – WHAT HE TELLS HIMSELF

3rd POV

| WEEK 2 – UGLY SWEATER

Reader POV

| WEEK 3 – ROOFTOP SUNSETS

Reader POV

| WEEK 4 – FOR HIS PRIDE

Tsukishima POV

| WEEK 5 – HALLWAY CONVERSATIONS

3rd POV

| WEEK 6 – WHY’D YOU ONLY CALL ME WHEN YOU’RE HIGH?

Reader POV

| WEEK 7 – ARE YOU AVOIDING ME?

Tsukishima POV

| WEEK 8 – STUDYING TOGETHER

Reader POV

| WEEK 9 – COLLIDE

Dual POV

| WEEK 10 – ARE  YOU AVOIDING ME? PT.2

Reader POV

| WEEK 11 – COFFEE AFTER SCHOOL

Tsukishima POV

| WEEK 12 – WOW YOU HAVE HEART? (bought you a book you wanted)

Reader POV

| WEEK 13 – DO I LIKE HIM /  HER?

Dual POV

| WEEK 14 – DOES SHE EVER LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT?

Tsukishima POV

| WEEK 15 – BLAME IT ON THE ALCOHOL

Dual Pov

| WEEK 16 – CAN’T I JUST HIDE IN HERE FOREVER?

Reader POV

| WEEK 17 – DRUNKEN CONFESSIONS

3rd POV

| WEEK 18 – TRAITOR

Reader POV

| WEEK 19 – ARE  YOU AVOIDING ME? PT.2

Tsukishima POV

| WEEK 20  – WANNA BE YOURS

Tsukishima POV {maybe Dual}

| WEEK 2.5  – WHAT TO DO…?

Tsukishima POV

| WEEK 21 – IT’S FREAKING 2 AM!

Reader POV

| WEEK 22 – RENDEZVOUS

3rd POV

| WEEK 23 – THE HONEYMOON PHASE

Reader POV

| WEEK 24 – JEALOUSY JEALOUSY

Reader POV

| WEEK 25 -  THE ONLY ONE

Dual POV

| WEEK 26 – THE WALK OF SHAME

Dual POV

| WEEK 27 – WE WEREN’T SHOCKED

3rd POV

[callmelittlebuttercup]

Peace Offerings Pt. 13

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Chapter Summary: The group continues their journey and then decide to rest for the night. When Reader and Joel both can’t sleep, Joel has an opportunity to apologize to her for lying about Matthew… in more ways than one. The next morning, a raider attack causes Joel to snap back to reality and rebuild the wall between him and Reader. When they get back on the road, they face another, more devastating, attack.

Chapter warnings: 18+ MDNI, Smut: Oral (f!receiving), clicker horde, suicide/self sacrifice

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part Thirteen

We rode until sunset, about 10 hours, before stopping to let the horses rest and set up camp for the night. The day was mostly peaceful with beautiful landscapes and only a few infected that were fairly easy to take out. Jacob explained that anywhere within a 20 mile radius of Jackson is known as a “danger zone” due to the watch’s reputation, so it would make sense that the first day of travel wouldn’t be too eventful.

The group all gathered around a fire that Jacob and Joel worked to light while the rest of us set up our gear. We passed around sandwiches that Tommy had given us and began to dig in. The four people who seemed to be more acquainted with each other chatted amongst themselves, and Joel and I sat next to each other on a tree trunk.

“How you doin’?” He asked. “Fine as I can be.” I sighed. His eyes drifted down to my fingers which were rubbing the fabric of my shirt between them. “We’re gonna find him. If he’s anything like you, he’s fightin’ like hell wherever he is.” He assured me as he placed his calloused hand gently on top of mine to steady my nervous tick. I nearly melted under his touch and found myself staring up at him, unable to wipe the longing look off of my face. He kept his eyes steady on mine and the reflection of the fire flickered in them.

“Hey! If you two are going to fuck you can fuck in the tent, not out here.” Melanie called over to us. I snapped out of my trance and felt blood rush to my cheeks in embarrassment. I heard Amelia quietly say, “Melanie, stop.” That was the only thing I’d heard her say all day. Her dark brown eyes caught mine and she smiled kindly then mouthed “sorry.” I smiled back, and stood up off of the tree trunk to throw the paper from my sandwich into the fire. “Cool tattoos, Melanie.” I said as I sat back down. I was following a piece of advice my mother had given me when I was a child. She’d said “be kind to your enemies and it will drive them crazy.” And it did. The snide look on her face dropped into a scowl and she blurted out a cool, “Thanks.” I saw Joel smirk out of the corner of my eye. I then decided to quit while I was ahead and retire to one of the tents.

I laid out on my sleeping bag and attempted sleep for what seemed like forever. Though, I couldn’t help but wonder where Joel ended up for the night. Quietly, I crawled out of the flap and looked around. Joel’s figure was propped up against the base of a large tree near the fire. I stood up and walked over. He looked entranced as he stared at the ever-moving flames. A twig snapped under my foot and he flinched, instinctively reaching for his gun, but quickly pulling his hand off of it when he saw me. “Sorry,” I said in a low voice, “didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” I sat down next to him against the sturdy oak. Our arms touched, and his heat radiated through me.

“Trouble sleepin’?” Joel asked. “Something like that.” I sighed, “You too?” He nodded, “Plus I wanted to keep an eye on the horses.” My mind flashed back to his remark when I threatened to sleep in the barn a while ago. “Right, because you won’t annoy them.” I said snidely. He puffed air out of his nose and pushed himself to sit up straighter against the tree, “Definitely less than you would.” I smiled as I stared into the fire. The flames lit the smoke above it. I watched them curl through the air and up towards the canopy of leaves. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Matthew. I thought it was best for you at that time, and now I know I was just being selfish. That was an asshole move.” He confessed.

I didn’t answer him for a moment as I let his words rattle around my brain. It was a genuine apology. A true acknowledgment of his mistake. I let my hand fall to his arm. “It’s okay, Joel.” I said quietly. “I just didn’t want you runnin’ out here on your own like I knew you would.” He spoke again. “I know.” I assured him gently, “I wouldn’t have gone without you though. You know that, right?” He shook his head side to side. “Well I wouldn’t have. I don’t trust anyone else with my life. Not even my fuckhead brother.” I confessed. His head turned to me, and his eyebrows furrowed softly. I leaned into him and placed a soft kiss onto his stubbly cheek. He leaned back, a slight look of surprise on his face, but when his eyes caught mine, they softened. He swiftly closed the gap between us, and our lips collided, moving desperately against each other.

Words couldn’t speak for us anymore, so we let our bodies. I pushed myself off of the ground and he pulled me onto his lap, our lips never leaving each other’s during the whole maneuver. I felt the familiar, yet electrifying feeling of his hands on my waist, and I buried my hands in his hair. Suddenly, I heard the leaves rustling and felt raindrops falling on the back of my neck. I gasped, and pulled away from Joel. He looked at me with concern, but soon realized that it was raining. I stood up off of him, “The tent! Hurry!” I couldn’t help but laugh. The cold rain hitting my skin reminded me of when I was younger and used to stand outside during thunderstorms.

We both practically threw ourselves inside the tent and Joel quickly zipped up the flap. I surveyed the roof to make sure there weren’t any leaks. Once everything was in check, we sat facing each other. I let out another giggle, and I saw a smile tugging at Joel’s lips. We weren’t in the rain long, but his hair was still damp and droplets were falling from the curls that fell over his forehead. I grabbed a t-shirt from my bag and moved to dry him off, but he caught my wrist gently.

“Let me.” He said. I shook my head, “No. Let me for once.” He reluctantly let go, and I watched his eyes close as I scrunched his hair into the t-shirt rhythmically. His hands snaked their way onto my waist again, and I felt him tugging me closer. I let him, and found that the t-shirt had dropped from my grip. I stared down at him, and his eyes showed a hunger that I’d seen before. The same hunger as the time I straddled him on the couch. I felt that same hunger as a dull pulse in my core, and it was insatiable. I’d been teased long enough. Been pulled away from despite both of us, very obviously, wanting more.

After leaning in and pressing gentle kisses into the nape of his neck, I whispered, “I want you, Joel.” His shoulders tensed under my grip. I knew what he was doing. “Don’t hold back.” I whispered again. As if saying “fuck it,” Joel jumped into action. He pushed me off of his lap and laid me back onto my plush sleeping bag, making sure to cradle my head. His hands wandered to the button of my pants and hovered there shyly. I reached down and undid the button with one hand, and then nodded at him. He wrapped his fingers around the waistband and pulled down slowly. Once my pants were off, my panties weren’t far behind, and soon he was there planting tender kisses down my thighs. With the pulse in my core growing into an urgent throb, I bucked my hips impatiently until he finally met me with his tongue. I gasped at the contact and grabbed onto the fabric of the sleeping bag behind my head, needing anything to ground myself as he swirled and sucked around my core.

The feeling of his mouth on me was so overwhelming that I was forced to clench my thighs around his head not to let myself over the edge just yet. His strong hand wrapped around my thigh and pulled it away from his head, forcing a whimper out of me. A warning that I was close. He didn’t stop. He kept his tongue in motion. I moved against him and dug my fingers deep into his hair as I gasped out in pleasure. My breaths quickened and I began to tremble beneath his touch as I came to a rapturous finish.

After my trembling stilled and my breath calmed, he moved up to kiss me again. I moaned softly as I tasted myself on his tongue. His excitement poked into my stomach and I moved my hand to his belt buckle, but he pulled away and laid onto his back next to me. I turned to him with a look of concern on my face. “You don’t want..?” I stuttered. “Don’t worry about it, you need rest.” He said softly. I couldn’t take my eyes off of the huge bulge between his legs, and knowing how torturous waiting was for me, I couldn’t imagine what it was like for him. I looked back to him and realized he’d seen me looking at it. “Sorry.” I muttered. “Truth is, I couldn’t do the things I’ve been wanting to do to you for so long in this tent.” He grunted. The bluntness of his words caused my breath to catch in my throat. I turned my body towards him with intrigue, “For exactly how long, Miller?” He looked up at the ceiling, a rare look of shyness cast over him. “Since the minute you told me off at Abe’s.” He confessed. I raised an eyebrow, surprised not only at his earnestness but at the timeline. “Well you were fucking great at hiding it.” I scoffed. “You weren’t.” He shot back. “What do you mean?” I questioned. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth again, “You blushed every time I looked at you.” I scoffed in denial. “Don’t flatter yourself.” Our banter died down and we held onto each other’s gaze for a moment. I could see Joel’s eyelids getting weaker, and felt mine doing the same, but I had one last thing to say before the dreamy night came to an end. “Joel?” I asked. “Hmmm?” He hummed. “I’m glad I told you off at Abe’s.” His hand moved to rub against the back of mine at my side and he said sleepily, “Me too.”

~~~~~

I awoke with my head on Joel’s chest and his arm wrapped around my shoulder. I’d lost the memory of that happening, but enjoyed the feeling of his safe, warm embrace. That was until I realized why I’d woken up. The flap to the tent was open and a gun was pointed directly at me. My hand panickedly moved to tap Joel, and he jolted awake. “Up and at em!” The person yelled gruffly. Joel’s grip on me tightened before I pulled away to sit up. “Take whatever you want and move on. We were just here for the night and we’ll be gone in ten minutes.” I said calmly. “Out of the tent.” The man demanded. I stared down at my bare legs and my stomach dropped. I’d forgotten to put my pants back on. I looked back at Joel and widened my eyes at him. He looked down at my bare legs, and sat up before crawling out of the tent, giving me time to hurriedly put my pants on. I followed, being hurried by the man’s gun poking me in the back. “Easy. Point it at me, not her.” Joel grunted. The man didn’t listen as he pulled me to my feet. I stood up to find the rest of the group bound and on their knees with other hunters behind them. As if I wasn’t sick with panic already, I saw a gash on Amelia’s head which was bleeding into her eye. I looked at the rest of the group who all seemed unscathed.

My mind immediately got to work thinking of all of the ways we could get out of this situation. It was 4 hunters with no guns and only makeshift weapons against 6 fully armed people. But 4 of us were bound. The kick off was on Joel and I.

I made eye-contact with him and looked down to the knife strapped to the side of my pants. He moved his head just enough to show me that he approved of my plan. I needed to move fast, to get my hand out of the hunter’s and then the knife inside of his neck. I breathed deeply and pulled my arm away with such force that it sent me flying out of the man’s grasp. I almost fell to the ground but caught myself before standing back up and burying the knife into his neck as he lunged towards me. Then all hell broke loose. A frenzy of hand to hand combat and pained grunts kicked up the dirt as Joel turned on his captor. I moved to grab the gun from my tent and to free the rest of our group. I stayed low to the ground and traveled from behind the tent. Melanie was the first person there to untie. The hunter behind her had moved to fight Joel, but there were two remaining. I snuck up behind the first one, and held my gun to his head. He froze and called out for the other hunter across the way. Before his partner could even move towards us, I pointed the gun at him and a bullet pierced through his chest. After he fell to the ground the hunter in my arms tried to escape my grasp but I shot the last bullet in my gun through his skull.

I checked on Joel before I began to untie Melanie. He’d taken out one guy and had the other pinned to the ground. I used my bloody knife to cut through the rope and Melanie’s arms fell free. “Thanks.” She breathed. I nodded and gestured for her to help me untie the rest. She moved to Amelia as I lunged for Evan and Jacob. As I cut the last rope I heard Joel groan loudly. My head shot up and I watched the last hunter fall to the ground. I moved to Joel and he stood there with his chest heaving. “You good?” I breathed. He nodded, not taking his eyes off of the corpse on the ground. “Joel…” I said, trying to bring him back to reality. When my hand touched his shoulder he snapped back. “Are you?” He asked as his eyes scanned me for injuries. “Yes.” I answered.

“Fuck. Our shit’s gone.” I hear Jacob say angrily. “Well if those two hadn’t been up each other’s asses maybe they’d have heard the attack and helped us.” Melanie spat, “This is why they don’t put couples in the same watch group. People get distracted.” She glared at us. “We’re not a couple.” Joel and I blurted at the same time. The group stared at us, obviously not buying the claim. “We just… traveled to Jackson together.” I explained further. We shared an awkward glance and then stepped away from each other to assess the damage of the camp. Of course it hurt to say that, but these days, it was important to be realistic. “Right. Needed someone to keep you alive ‘cause you’re too pretty to do it yourself.” Melanie said snidely. “What is your problem with me?” I asked. Rage burned through me and my fists balled up at my sides. “Nothing. Just don’t like dead weight.” She said as she shrugged. My jaw clenched and I took a step towards her, a threatening look on my face. “Okay, that’s enough.” Joel said as he wrapped his hand around my upper arm and tugged me gently back towards him, “Shouldn’t you be helping your sister, Melanie? She’s bleedin’ like hell.” Joel redirected her. She rolled her eyes, then sauntered away with a smug look on her face.

“What is her fucking problem with me?” I questioned Joel as he pulled me back towards the tent. He kept his hand on my arm as he turned to face me. “I don’t know, but you can’t let her get to you. Buying into her shit will only distract you and somethin’ else could happen. We need to focus.” He said under his breath, “In fact, we can’t have any more distractions.” I nodded at first, but my eyes snapped to him when I realized what he was referring to. “What do you mean?” I asked, my eyebrows furrowing. He couldn’t possibly be blaming that for what happened this morning. My cheeks reddened as I remembered the feeling of his mouth on me, his hands wrapping around my thighs. “It can’t happen again. We have to focus.” He said quietly. The words left his mouth hesitantly, as if someone was forcing him to say them. “May I remind you that no one forced you to do that to me?” I whispered angrily. He pressed his lips together and nodded, “Yes. But you know what I mean.” I pulled my arm away from him, “Yes I do.” I said sharply as I walked away.

After the camp was packed up and wounds were tended to, we mounted the horses again and continued on our trail. The rain had dampened everything. The air, our clothes, and especially the ground. The horses were having trouble getting through the deep mud, and were severely slowing down our pace. Despite still being angry from our conversation earlier, I found myself being lulled to sleep by the warmth of Joel’s body behind me and the steady bouncing of the horse. I tried my best to stay awake, but even Joel noticed my exhaustion and urged me to sleep. “S’okay. Get some while you can.” He whispered, “I got the reins.” As much as I didn’t want to leave all responsibility to him, I couldn’t stay awake any longer and closed my eyes, letting my head fall backwards against his chest.

I was jolted awake by a scream and a thud as Joel tumbled off of the horse and onto the ground. “No, JOEL!” I screamed as I watched his form get smaller. I tried to stop the horse by pulling on the reins, but instead, he bucked and sent me tumbling to the ground. I pressed myself up off of the hard dirt and attempted to get my bearings. Looking around, I saw that I was completely alone. I watched the horse gallop off like its life depended on it. And I realized I needed to do the same as a horde of infected came barreling towards me. My heart raced as I stumbled through the trees as fast as I could, tripping over roots and rocks but continuing to scramble. The horde was closing in on me, and I seemed to only have one choice: climb.

I launched myself onto the nearest tree and grabbed at branches, climbing as far up as possible. My lungs screamed for air as I stared down at the horde clawing beneath me. One of them was able to scramble up a bit by digging its nails into the bark, but I had the high ground and pushed him off of the tree with a swift kick. My arms burned as I clung desperately to the branch. It was only so thick and would soon crack under my weight. I looked up to see if I could climb further, but the branches only got thinner. My head swiveled around panickedly, begging silently for Joel or anyone to appear before I accepted my fate. When no one did, I closed my eyes and pressed my forehead against my hands, preparing to let go. I sucked in a deep breath, but before I could let it out, I heard a voice. “HEY. OVER HERE.” I glanced in the direction that the voice was coming from, and was relieved to see Amelia standing there. She screamed my name and urged me to go, and my relief quickly turned to panic when I realized she wasn’t running away from the horde that had now turned their focus onto her. “Amelia, NO!!” I screamed. The branch of the tree finally cracked and I landed on the ground, barrel rolling to break my fall. I scrambled to my feet to help her, but it was too late. The infected were tearing into her flesh. I screamed out in frustration, and felt hot tears flooding my eyes, but I didn’t have time to waste. I couldn’t let Amelia’s sacrifice be for nothing.

My legs shook as I began to run away from the now distracted horde. Sobs escaped me as I continued further into the forest. I ran blindly. I had no idea where I was, where I was going. All I knew was that I was devastated, scared, and pissed as hell. All of a sudden I was grabbed and pulled behind a tree. Naturally I began to fight my captor, kicking and punching like hell. But his voice was familiar. “Shhhh. You’re okay. Stop. STOP.” I turned to see Jacob. “Where’s Joel? Where are the others?” I breathed. “We all lost each other. Hunters set up a trap with infected and they chased us all over hell. I barely heard him, but Joel yelled something about going ‘south’ and a ‘water tower’.” He explained. I nodded, trying to process what he said. The fear of losing Joel kept my heart rate raised and clouded my mind. “Fuck! Okay. Let’s go south then.” I said, picking myself up off of the ground and brushing off my clothing. Jacob hesitated. “Are you coming or not?” I urged, and he finally stood up off of the tree. Jacob and I walked for hours. The sun was beginning to hide itself behind the treeline, the air was getting colder, and my body ached from the falls I took. There was a permanent lump in my throat from the weight of missing both my brother and Joel, but I stayed serious and kept my head on a swivel, praying that the water tower would come into sight. “Where the fuck is this water tower?” I asked Jacob. “No idea. My map was on the horse.” He mumbled. “Great.” I scoffed under my breath. We continued walking in the direction that we could only be sure was south.

“I’m fucking starving. Can we check out one of these houses?” Jacob whined hours later as we walked through a secluded neighborhood. I was sick of hearing his complaints and finally gave in. He led me into a small white house with green shutters. The dated furniture and wallpaper implied that it had belonged to an older couple. We looked around, going through drawers and opening cabinets for any sign of food or supply. Jacob winced as he picked up a can of sardines. “Not hungry enough for this shit.” He said as he dropped it back into the drawer with a loud clatter. I rolled my eyes and continued to explore the house. After a fruitless search of the second floor, I made my way back down the stairs, but was taken by surprise when I rounded the corner and ran into a tall figure. Taller than Jacob. I reluctantly met eyes with the man, and he stared down at me. His eyes had a soft, welcoming look to them, but they somehow made me uneasy. “Hello there,” the man said calmly, “I’m David.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note:

This chapter has a little bit of everything! ;) I hope you enjoy and I can’t wait for y’all to read the next part! As always, let me know what you think and if you would like to be added to the tag list <3

Taglist: @demonsasss @ashleyfilm @ayamenimthiriel

Next Part | Masterlist

[mothstims22]

🐇 🐾 🐇 | 🧺 🐰 🧺 | 🐇 🐾 🐇

Bungender!Legend stimboard

Edit made by me! Bungender flag from here, and photo from LU (Sunset pt. 13)

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

From the Ashes Pt. 28

Pairing(s): Pairing(s): Rhaegar Targaryen x Lannister!Reader, one-sided!Jaime Lannister x Lannister!Reader, Jaime Lannister x Cersei Lannister

Warnings: slow burn fic, changing povs, Thalina POV

Words: 1646

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 3.5  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35

Book Two of Dārilaros hen ōrbar se perzys (Heir of Ash and Fire)

Thalina always lit a candle for (y/n) as she was carried in the gentle arms of sleep. The flicker that accompanied the playful shadows behind it would surely keep her safe from harm.

“Sweet dreams, (y/n).” Thalina smiled and with a delicate touch closed the door. Behind her was the disapproving mug of the septa that Queen Rhaella had employed for the young (y/n). “Is something wrong?”

“You should put out that candle. What if caught on something and lit the whole room aflame? Prince Rhaegar would be sure that your punishment is severe for such a thing.”

Such a hooked nose, this one has. Thalina thought to herself all the while Septa Agostina spieled on about the dangers of fire as if she didn’t know already.

Continuing to keep her smile of honey and dew, Thalina nods. “I hear your concerns. But you don’t have to worry.”

That seemed to irritate the old crone even more but as she was about to spit something out, a maid scurries to push the septa ahead. Septa Agostina grumbled and shook her head.

They weren’t completely out of Thalina’s ear shot when they began to whisper.

“She is from Volantis. They have different customs than us.” the maid tries to soothe the red cheeked septa.

“Bunch of heathens they are worshipping false gods.”

Ah. Didn’t everyone believe their god was the one true god? And how did they know if she worshipped the Westerosi gods or not. Small minds, Thalina had to remind herself, are afraid of what they have not experienced out of the comfortability of their cages. More than likely neither of them had ever traveled to the beautiful land of Essos and visited Volantis. It was true that crime was rampant through the slums but what major society didn’t have such?

All she could do was sigh and continue to her room.

She missed home.

The beautiful sunrises and sunsets that she could see from her narrow window were so vibrant. Most days on Dragonstone consisted of clouds and gray. A chill prevalent in the air that had made (y/n) catch a cold many times. There was no beauty to the small island of Dragonstone. No matter. Thalina wasn’t there for the beautiful landscapes. She had an important duty ahead of her.

Once in her room she makes sure to snap the lock shut. Normally the doors of servants didn’t have locks. Faster access to them if there was an emergency. Thalina installed one herself. She possessed such items that could not be seen by anyone else.

Bed frame pulled out a few centimeters, she thrust her arm into the space between bed and wall. Fingers wiggled and searched desperately for a latch that opened a trapdoor below. The latch was in the most inconvenient place she could think of. Somewhere no one would immediately guess. Thalina bit her lip until finally finger tips bumped into cold metal. Strained grin, she tugs it then rolls off her bed and onto the floor. Belly pressed firmly against the floor panels, she crawls underneath her bed and slides open the now unlocked trapdoor. So much effort for a seemingly normal box. Soon, it would contain the most precious thing in the world.

She slipped a few times on her way up to Dragonmont. The ancient volcano which gave rise to the island of Dragonstone was still active as was evident by the lazy, pale, gray smoke that danced upward.

“Dovodedha hae mirre.” Clumsy as ever. Thalina laughed tiredly to herself. The hike up was tiresome and her knee still ached from her most recent fall. The rotten smell of sulfur stung her nose and she knew her hair would be reeking of it when she returned.

Hopefully her efforts wouldn’t be in vain. Even now she still doubted her visions she saw in the flames. What if they were wrong?

“No!” Thalina hisses and stops to literally shake her head free of such thoughts. She couldn’t think like that. Times like that she wished Rhiannon had been allowed to go at her to Westeros. Rhiannon was always so confident. As a child Thalina had hated that about her. It made her that much harder to get under control. In those early days, Thalina was both mother and sister to Rhiannon. Often the two roles clashed and caused Thalina to constantly doubt herself on how she was raising Rhiannon. A daunting task for any young child. She wouldn’t have had it any other way though. There were times before finding the Red Temple where both would be aching from hunger, Thalina had contemplated on sending little Rhiannon to an orphanage. Perhaps she would have a better chance there than out in the street. Uncomfortable with the idea of anyone else raising her sister it was a thought that was easily discarded. They would be together through thick and thin.

Except for now.

Panting, Thalina gazes up at the looming volcano. “Rhiannon, lend me your strength little sister.”

And as if somewhere in Essos Rhiannon did indeed hear her older sister’s plea, Thalina felt her body revitalized. Off to the side of Dragonmont was a hardly used path that led to the other side of the volcano base. In the legends that Queen Rhaella told (y/n) and Viserys that was where the dragons bred and protected their eggs.

And she knew from having scouted the volcano before of the entrance on the other side that leads inside. The walls of the inside were black and shimmered when the light of her torch touched them. Dragonglass. Thalina had yet to explore the rest of the volcanic cave’s various tunnels. Now that she had completed her puzzle box, there was no more excuse for not investigating them.

An opal she had seen in her marigold visions in the flames. Large with scales etched into it.

“I know you’re in here.” Her whisper bounces back to her as she steps inside of the cave. Eerily quiet it offers her a strange sense of calm that settled her beating heart. When she had searched every nook and cranny of Dragonstone, discouragement often found her. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. As clumsy as she was, Thalina was shockingly stealthy and able to get into any room without being seen. She left no clues of her clandestine visits. Still she had found nothing. One would think that with Aerys’ new fervor of trying to hatch a dragon that there would be at least some locked up in secret. From cellar to dungeons, from Sea Dragon Tower to the Windwyrm. Only dragon statues could be found with open mouths in mocking. After months of nothing, Thalina found her answer during a session of fire reading. It seemed so simple, how had she not thought of the volcano before? Not many people travel that way. A tough terrain, it proves difficult to reach the top let alone proceed to the other side. The only other way would be to travel by boat. Remote with no one having interest in it. A perfect place to search next.

Hours of weaving in and out of tunnels, at least that’s how long Thalina thought it was, Thalina had been able to make a rough rudimentary map of the caves. Her job was done at least for the night. She gathered up her red string that she had been using to prevent her from getting lost.

Sweat had become tacky on her face when she finally got back to the castle. She reached for one of her braids and inhaled. As she had feared it held the faint smell of smoke and sulfur. Grimacing, she would have to sleep with that smell until the morning. It would be too odd if someone were to encounter her that late.

On her path back to her room, Thalina had an itch that she should at least poke her head into (y/n)’s room to see how her little lady was doing. The sweet girl had a tendency to suffer from them. She never spoke about them though. Not even when they reduced her to searching out her maid for comfort. Thalina wished she could look into (y/n)’s nightmares the same way she did with flames.

The little candle had probably gone out some time ago, leaving a small wax stub. Blue moonbeams offer her an even more pleasant source of light.

She hadn’t meant to wake her up when she stepped a foot inside, making a floorboard creek. She had just wanted to see if (y/n) was sleeping peacefully for when she did her face was the purest thing in the world.

Her drowsy head twirls up in a sleepy haze but her eyes cleared up in moments and she realized who it was. “Thalina?”

“I’m sorry to wake you, my lady. I just wanted to check on you.”

“It’s okay.” She said in mid-yawn. Her head plopped back down to her pillow. “But since you’re here. . . Can you tell me another story so I can go back to bed?”

“Of course.” Softly chirped the maid and made the rest of her way to (y/n)’s bedside. Perfectly perched, her hand drifts over (y/n)’s bangs that were splayed on her forehead. “What story should I tell you? Another one of the ancient Targaryen rulers?” (y/n) shook her head. “No? What about the Age of Heroes?” Again, (y/n) shook her head. For (y/n), Thalina put on a fake hard-thinking face. “Alright, I’ll tell you a story that has not yet happened.”

“Not yet happened?”

She nods. “I will tell you the story of a champion that will one day stop an evil force that wreaks havoc on our world. She will bring fire to a land of ice and snow.” In a conspirating manner, she leans in close to (y/n)’s ear. “With the help of dragons.”

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Sunset pt.12

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This one ended up with a high page count so it had to be broken up as pt12 &13. Next one (pt13) will be up in a few days